Hero's Song (19 page)

"But Nessa..."

"I know. But what I am speaking of with the Ellyl king affects you and your sister, Collun."

An Ellyl appeared in the doorway. "A message from Midir, wizard. He says to come immediately. There is news from the north."

"Very well." The wizard turned to go.

"Crann...," began Collun, his voice edged with worry.

"Be patient, spriosan. By evening of the third day from today, I will return. Then we will make plans. In the meantime, gather your strength." And the wizard was gone.

The next morning Ebba took the three of them out of their quarters and guided them through some of the caverns of Tir a Ceol. Fara came with them. The Ellylon they saw looked at them with curiosity but stayed aloof from the human visitors.

Ebba told them they were free to explore as long as they did not disturb the Ellylon and were back in time for the evening meal. Talisen immediately headed toward the nearest cavern from which music emanated. Fara reached up a paw and batted Brie's leg. Then the faol set off. "I think I am meant to follow. Would you like to join us?" Brie asked Collun. The boy shook his head. He stood irresolutely as he watched them disappear into the next cavern. Ebba walked up to him.

"There is a cavern near here that might interest you."
The Ellyl woman led him silently through a series of caverns. "Here," she said, entering one that was much larger than any Collun had yet seen.

In the center lay a long oval pool of silvery water, and ranged around it was a herd of Ellyl horses.

Collun had heard stories of Ellyl horses—that they were unmatchable in power and speed and too wild to be ridden by humans; though it was said that the hero Cuillean rode an Ellyl horse.

Many of the horses were grazing on a soft green-and-white carpet of something that Collun had at first thought to be dappled moss. When he bent to get a closer look, he found it was made up of millions of tiny green-and-white flowers. The delicate flowers grew in the shape of trefoil and smelled sweet, almost like honey.

"It is seamir, their favorite food. It grows very quickly so there is always plenty for them to eat. Now I must return to my work." Ebba left the cavern.

Collun continued to gaze about him in awe. The animals resembled Eirrenian horses but were shorter and leaner and somehow more graceful. Their tails were long, almost brushing the ground, and there was a sheen to their coats like the surface of the silvery pool.

As Collun knelt to touch the carpet of tiny flowers, a pair of flared nostrils suddenly appeared by his hand. Hardly daring to breathe, Collun pulled up a clump of seamir and offered it to the horse. The animal nosed the boy's hand and then, giving Collun the sense a great favor was being done him, delicately cropped the clump from his palm.

It was a beautiful animal, white with blue-gray markings. It had hooves that gleamed like silver, and its eyes
were large and lit with fire from within. Collun offered up another clump of flowers.

When he told her later of his encounter with the white-and-gray horse, Ebba was astonished.

"The horse you describe is called Fiain, or the Wild One, and it is called so because no Ellyl has ever been able to tame him. I myself am considered one of the most skilled with the horses in Tir a Ceol, and Fiain will not let me within a foot of him. Have you a special way with horses, Collun?"

"Indeed not," the boy replied. "I once had an accident with the old farm horse at Aonarach..." He trailed off under Ebba's skeptical look.

"He speaks the truth," said Talisen, entering their quarters. "But Collun, listen to what has happened to me today." Ebba left the room to finish preparations on their meal. "At first the Ellyon hung back from me. They even stopped playing their music," Talisen said. "But I challenged one of them to a riddling contest, and that broke through their reserve. Ellylon love riddles, even more than I. We played games, danced, ate food, and finally they let me listen to their music. First, though, they explained to me about the different types of music in Tir a Ceol.

"There are two kinds," Talisen explained in an animated voice. "One is the ancient music that works what we humans call magic. The Ellylon call it draiocht. Only a select few have the gift for, and are trained in, draoicht. You see, the Ellylon believe that in the same way all things bear a name, so does each thing bear a song. A song unique only to it. There are songs for rocks, for clouds, for men, and for animals. To learn and be able
to sing that song gives power. You remember when Silien kindled the light in his hand in the labyrinth? He used the song of a flame. Even an Ellyl with the gift takes many years of training to learn the songs and to sing them well. Amergin, they told me, was the only non-Ellyl ever to learn draoicht, and he only understood very little.

"The other kind of Ellyl music," Talisen continued, "is like the music we know in Eirren, except that it is
more
—more beautiful, more wrenching. This kind they call ceol, and it is my belief that ceol is the kind of music the ancient bards of Eirren knew. The kind that can make you weep, laugh, dance, and even sleep. And it is the kind that I am going to learn. One way or another, Collun, I am going to learn this ceol music." The expression on Talisen's face was resolute.

Collun did not see much of Talisen in the next two days. He would return to their quarters only to eat an occasional meal and to sleep, though he seemed to do little of the latter. Every time Collun woke in the night, he could hear harp music coming from Talisen's room.

Ebba was teaching Brie the Ellyl way of carving wood, and Collun watched as she worked on a new bow. Ebba supplied her with a soft, white wood, perfect for carving. And through the curls of wood shavings, a delicate, long-necked bird began to take form. It was a tine-ean, Ebba said, a flame-bird.

Collun felt restless, anxious to resume his search for Nessa. He found himself returning to the cavern of the horses. At each visit he and the white-and-gray horse went through the same ritual. As the horse nibbled the flowers from his hand, Collun couldn't help wondering
what it would be like to ride such a magnificent animal. But he could not imagine the proud horse allowing anyone to climb on his back.

On the afternoon of their fifth day in Tir a Ceol, Talisen came to Collun's room and sat wordlessly in front of him. He closed his eyes and let his fingers play over the strings of his harp. Collun listened with pleasure to the delicate, haunting tune, and when Talisen had finished, he complimented him enthusiastically. "You have learned an Ellyl song!"

"Several," Talisen replied carelessly. "But this was not one." And suddenly there was an uncharacteristic shyness in Talisen's manner.

"But that did not sound like a song I have heard. Something you learned in Temair?"

"No. Collun, I made this song myself." Talisen's face glowed.

Collun's eyes widened. "You mean...?"

"Yes. I have learned how to make songs, and without going to any stuffy school with a name that sounds like a sneeze."

Collun was filled with pride for his friend. "I am pleased for you, Talisen."

"And well you should be." Talisen laughed. And he was the old Talisen again, full of impossible boasts and carefree laughter.

The evening Crann had promised to come, Silien appeared instead. He said the wizard had been delayed and would be there the next morning.

"I came to say good-bye," said the Ellyl. "Much has happened in the past few days. I am bound for Temair, where, on behalf of my father, I will propose a comhairle, a council, with King Gwynn and Queen Aine."

Talisen let out a sound of wonderment. "This is indeed an historic event."

Silien nodded. "I must leave now. Time is precious. But I wish you well on your quest," Silien said, gazing at Collun. Collun thought he read sympathy in the silver eyes.

"I hope to meet you again." The Ellyl shook each of their hands gravely. Then with his familiar half-smile, he turned and left the room.

That night Collun had trouble getting to sleep, and when he did, he dreamed of the pile of bones in the labyrinth. He woke up, shivering uncontrollably.

The next morning after breakfast, Collun began to pace the stone floor. "Where is Crann? What can be keeping him?" he said. To distract him, Brie said she would teach him an Ellyl game called ficheall that Ebba had taught her. It was played with a board, dice, and small figures carved of black spinel. Collun reluctantly sat, and they began to play. Talisen watched, harp in hand, and he made them laugh with a song he improvised about Farmer Whicklow and his enormous appetite for partridge pie.

The door abruptly swung open and Crann entered. Wearily he lowered himself into a chair that was too small for his long body. He took up one of the small
figures from the game board and began absently to roll it between his fingers.

"You look terrible," said Talisen.

"Thank you," replied Crann dryly.

"Have you and the king not paused for rest at all?"

"Midir is proud and strong-willed, and my tongue is not so graceful with words as once it was. Still, he finally sees the darkness that threatens and the need for an alliance with Eirren," said Crann.

"Surely that is good news," remarked Talisen.

"Yes," replied Crann. "But there has been news that is not good, I'm afraid. An Ellyl who lives underneath a lake in upper Scath arrived a day ago to seek counsel from his king." Crann paused. "It is the Firewurme. The Ellyl spotted it off the shores of the Northern Sea. It is worse even than I had feared. Medb has called up the Wurme—or Naid, as the Ellylon call it."

Collun felt a chill. Silien had spoken of a Firewurme when he was telling them about the wizard Cruachan, and Collun remembered stories told to him as a child about a monstrous white Wurme that had laid waste to Eirren in the days of Amergin.

"The Firewurme," Crann continued, "was Cruachan's most powerful, most deadly creation. It destroyed countless Eirrenians and Ellylon alike. It was the Wurme that ultimately turned on Cruachan and killed him when he could no longer control it.

"I had hoped Medb would not dare awaken the Firewurme, but she has grown more reckless and arrogant than I had believed possible. If she chooses to let the Firewurme loose, then there is little hope any of us will survive its coming.

"As Silien no doubt told you, Midir has agreed to a comhairle with the king and queen of Eirren. I doubt not the Eirrenians will be eager for such an alliance."

Silence filled the room. Crann gazed fixedly at the small spinel figurine in his hand, then looked up at Collun. "But I did not come to speak of this alone. Collun, the time has come to tell you all."

"Do you wish us to leave?" asked Brie, half rising.

"That is up to Collun," replied the wizard.

"Stay," Collun said. "Is it because Emer is dead that you can now speak?"

The wizard nodded. "I am released from the oath I gave to her." He paused. "Give me your dagger," Crann said abruptly.

With a bewildered expression Collun reached for the dagger at his waist and passed it to Crann. The wizard laid it on the table amidst the spinel figures and the dice. The stone in the handle glowed faintly, as it had the last time Crann held it.

"As I told you in the Forest of Eld, I believe this stone to be one of the three shards of the Cailceadon Lir. The fact that it killed Moccus's sow and injured the creature Nemian confirms my belief." Crann paused. "As I also said, it is my guess that this is the shard that Amergin lost on one of his sea voyages. Collun, did your mother ever tell you where she got the lucky stone?"

Collun shook his head. "I have been trying to puzzle it out. What happened to the shard after Amergin lost it? To a woman, you said?"

"Yes. And she, in turn, sold it to an adventurer and explorer who called himself Lleann. Like Lir before him, Lleann recognized this stone would bring luck to him
and to his family. So he, too, began a tradition of passing it on to his firstborn child, and each succeeding generation did the same."

"Then Emer is a descendant of Lleann?" Collun asked.

The wizard shook his head, and Collun saw a look pass between him and Brie.

"Then Goban...?" Collun asked in confusion.

"Collun," Crann interrupted. "What do you know of the hero Cuillean?"

Puzzled, Collun answered slowly. "Only what I have learned from Talisen's songs. And then I heard more in Temair. Why?"

"Tell me what you do know."

"Let's see ... That as a youth he showed great courage and prowess. That he was a hero in the Eamh War..." Collun trailed off.

"That he loved a lady and lost her shortly after they were wed," spoke up Talisen. "Remember the song 'Lady of the Silver Fir,' Collun? It has always been one of my favorites."

"Yes, I remember. He mourned her death for many years. And then, most recently, it is said that he disappeared, a year ago or so, and may be dead."

"That is all?"

Collun nodded slowly. "My mother did not like songs of the Eamh War or of Cuillean. She lost a brother in the fighting, and the pain ran deep."

"Once," agreed Talisen, "Emer heard me singing a song of the war and of one of Cuillean's most spectacular battles, and she bade me never to sing it or any others like it on the farmhold Aonarach."

The old wizard was quiet for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "Before he went off to fight for Eirren in the Eamh War, Cuillean did indeed love a maiden. He pledged himself to this maiden, and she to him, and when he returned from battle, they were to be wed. In the songs about them she is called Eilm, or the Lady of the Silver Fir. But her true name was Emer."

Collun felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He stared at the wizard's moon white beard.

"Emer was the daughter of a powerful lord, Fogal. She had two brothers, one older and one younger. The younger, Neill, was his father's favorite, the apple of his eye. Neill worshiped his sister's betrothed, the hero Cuillean. He wished to be exactly like his idol. Though he was young—barely older than yourself, Collun—he ran off to join the army in its northward march to fight Medb. Neill was brave, but he was also impulsive and unschooled in the ways of war. Despite Cuillean's efforts to watch over the stripling—indeed, putting his own life in danger more than once—Neill was one of the first to die in the Eamh War.