Hero's Song (20 page)

"When his father received word of Neill's death, he went half mad with grief, and in his madness Fogal blamed Cuillean. He withdrew his blessing from the proposed marriage between Emer and Cuillean and forbade her to see him. When Cuillean returned from the war and found himself barred from the maiden he loved, he acted in haste and anger and, with a handful of men, assailed the dun of Emer's father. Under the cover of darkness he stole Emer away, killing several of Fogal's men. Cuillean took Emer off with him to his dun by Siar Muir, the Western Sea. There they were wed.

"Fogal was now left completely alone, his own wife long dead, both sons dead in the Eamh War—the elder killed in the waning months of the fighting—and Emer taken from him by Cuillean, whom he now saw as his most bitter enemy. He gathered an army and waged battle with Cuillean. Fogal was ultimately killed in the fight, and it was Cuillean himself who killed him.

"Emer stayed with Cuillean for a year after that, but the pain of seeing her father killed by the man she loved, on top of the deaths of both her brothers, proved to be more than she could bear. Finally she left Cuillean, taking with her their newborn son." Crann paused.

"You are that son, Collun."

Collun's breath stopped for a moment. He felt as if he must be in a dream. Numbly he watched the wizard's lips move. Collun did not speak, and the wizard continued his tale, his eyes carefully watching the boy.

"Emer hid her true identity and found peace in Inkberrow, a small town some distance from Temair and Cuillean, and from the life she had known. She met the local blacksmith, and he became her friend. When she told him her story, he offered to live with her as husband and be a father to her son. They never were wed, as Emer was already wife to Cuillean, but they let the people of Inkberrow believe they were married. Emer found she was expecting another child, and though Goban knew the baby was also Cuillean's, he felt a special attachment to the girl-child he himself helped into the world.

"At first the union between Emer and Goban was a healing one. The blacksmith helped Emer to forget. But somewhere inside she still loved Cuillean, though she
could not admit it even to herself. Goban sensed it, and it ate away at him. It turned his feelings against Cuillean's son.

"Before leaving Temair, Emer went to her only living relative, her elder brother's widow, Fial, and told her what she intended to do. By threatening to kill herself rather than remain with Cuillean, she forced Fial to tell everyone at court that Emer had been found dead—that she and the baby had both been drowned trying to cross the River Haw. A few bedraggled remains of Emer's belongings were produced as evidence, and the story was believed. Cuillean was heart-stricken and hid in his dun, refusing to see anyone for months.

"There were only two people besides Emer and Goban who knew the truth: Fial and myself. I had been a friend to both Fogal and Cuillean. At first I, too, believed Emer was dead. It was only by accident that I discovered otherwise. It has long been a practice with me to disguise myself as a kesil. One day my travels took me through the town of Inkberrow. Passing your lonely farmhold Aonarach, I caught a glimpse of a woman's face that was familiar to me. Her hair had turned gray, and she looked careworn. I almost did not recognize her. But when our eyes met, I saw the Lady of the Silver Fir. Emer recognized me as well, despite my own appearance. She was terrified I would give away her secret.

"I told her of Cuillean's grief and tried to convince her to return to him, but she would not. She had made an oath to the goddess Eira, she said, and would not break it. She begged me to tell no one that I had seen her, and finally I agreed. And I pledged to say nothing of her children's true parentage, to them or to anyone.
Only if she was to die, and I deemed it important to their safety, was I to be released from the oath. Fial had been made to swear a similar pledge."

"Why? Why didn't she tell us?" asked Collun, his voice barely audible.

"It is difficult to explain. The pain of losing her brothers and then seeing her father killed by the man she loved altered Emer. She came to despise violence and war, and she sought to protect her children from this world—a world that, in her eyes, was embodied by Cuillean, the man she had once loved above all.

"She also told me that in a moment of her deepest pain, she had had a vision of the goddess Eira. Eira, she said, told Emer that any children she had that were begotten by Cuillean would meet the same fate as Emer's father and brothers if Emer did not leave Cuillean forever. That was when she swore to take you away to a place where you would be safe and where she would never tell you of your true identity.

"But Emer did not know there were events unfolding, with their beginnings in the distant past, that would make it impossible for her children to remain safe and hidden in Inkberrow.

"You see, it is Cuillean who is descended from Lleann. And like his ancestors before him, Cuillean intended to pass the lucky stone on to his firstborn. To you, Collun. Cuillean, of course, knew nothing of the chalcedony's true origin. Nor did Emer. Before she fled his dun, Cuillean had given it to her to fashion into a pendant or arm circlet for you to wear, and she took the Cailceadon Lir with her when she left. So, you see, as far as Cuillean knew the stone was lost in the River Haw
with Emer and their child. It did not matter to him, for in his grief he swore he would never take another wife; therefore, there would be no other child to whom to pass the stone.

"But the cailceadon was not lost in the River Haw. It was in Inkberrow, and Emer did pass it on to Cuillean's son when she thought the time was right. As far as she knew, it was merely a lucky talisman that had been in her son's father's family for generations."

All eyes were on the dagger lying on the game board before them.

"I do not know when, but sometime after the Eamh War, Medb must have discovered the first of the lost shards of the Cailceadon Lir," continued the wizard. "When this stone was whole it bore the power to seal the Cave of Cruachan and defeat its creatures. Is it any wonder then that Medb conceived a desire to possess all three shards? To make whole the original Cailceadon Lir?

"The Eirrenian shard of the stone is too well hidden for her to trace, though I advised the king and queen early on of the danger so that they might augment the cailceadon's security if necessary.

"But, and I do not know how, Medb discovered the other shard was in Cuillean's possession. He used to wear it in an armband of silver, and perhaps the traitor Bricriu saw it. But before Medb could go after Cuillean's stone, Bricriu relayed the news that Cuillean no longer had it. That in fact it lay at the bottom of the River Haw where Emer and Cuillean's firstborn child had drowned. This must have been a blow to Medb. But then, many years later, Nessa came to Temair.

"It surprises me that Emer allowed Nessa to leave Inkberrow, much less journey to Temair. Her vows to protect the two of you were so deeply felt."

"Once Fial made the offer, Nessa would not listen to Emer. She was determined to go," replied Collun.

Crann nodded. "Emer must have hoped enough time had passed that no one would see the resemblance. Indeed there was none between the girl and Cuillean, and little between mother and daughter, except in the eyes. Queen Aine felt an immediate liking for the girl, yet did not know her as the daughter of her old friend. But Bricriu, with his sharp eyes, saw the resemblance. He noted the few slips of the tongue Nessa no doubt made about her family and the village she came from, and he relayed his suspicions to Medb. The two must have guessed that Emer had had another child, and if a second one lived, so might the first. Even if the firstborn son had died, perhaps Emer herself still lived and had given the chalcedony to her daughter.

"The Queen of Ghosts must have ordered Bricriu to find out what he could from the girl and then, depending on what he learned, to abduct her. If she did not have the stone herself, she might know where it was, or, indeed, serve as bait for the true holder of the stone—her elder brother, if he still lived. Medb knew Cuillean, and she knew that any son of his must come to save his sister."

Collun's cheeks were burning.

"But why didn't Medb come for Collun in Inkberrow?" asked Talisen.

"She did. Once she found out from Nessa where Collun was, she sent Urlacan. But Nessa must have
held out against Medb for a period of time, hence the delay. You had left Inkberrow by the time Urlacan got there. He was doubling back when he found you at the Traveler's Rest."

"Where is Nessa, then?" Collun asked, his voice barely audible.

"She is being held somewhere in Scath, I believe. Not at Medb's fortress, Rathcroghan, according to a source I trust. But that is all I have been able to discover."

"Why would Medb keep her alive?" Collun said the words with difficulty.

"I do not know, but it is my guess that Medb deems a live hostage more valuable than a dead one. Perhaps, also, she has some idea of using Nessa to flush Cuillean out of hiding—that is, if he still lives." The room went still, and no one spoke for several moments.

"What is to be done?" Collun finally said, his voice hollow.

"The better question, son of Cuillean, is what is it that
you
choose to do?" said Crann. His words were formal and distant.

Collun's head whirled at the sound of his naming. "Son of Cuillean." Was it possible? He hovered between laughter and tears. That he was not the son of the man he had long called father—the silent, grim blacksmith who had shown him little love—was not a surprise. Indeed, he wondered why he had not guessed it before. But to find that he, a cowardly farm boy with dirt under his fingernails, was the son of one of Eirren's greatest heroes ... If it were not so painful, he would call it the best joke he had ever heard.

He realized they were all looking at him. What was his choice? What other choice was there for him? He
must finish what he had begun. "I would find my sister," he said simply.

Crann nodded, then fixed his bright gaze on Collun. "If you will have me, I would journey with you, son of Cuillean."

Collun felt a surge of relief. With Crann as companion, perhaps there was a chance of finding Nessa and bringing her back alive.

"And I would go with you, too, Collun," said Brie, her voice quiet but firm.

Collun opened his mouth to object, but Brie's dark eyes looked stubbornly into his.

"I'm coming, too, of course," said Talisen. He strummed his harp with a dramatic flourish.

Crann rose. "It is settled, then. We will leave tomorrow."

"But where do we go?" asked Collun, picking up the dagger from the game board.

"We go to Scath."

The wizard's words sent a shiver of dread through the group. "I have eyes in Scath and hope to know more of your sister's whereabouts by the time we reach its border." The wizard stood. He moved toward Collun.

"You have learned much today, spriosan." He rested his hand gently on Collun's shoulder. The boy could feel warmth emanating from the wizard's long fingers. Then Crann made a gesture of farewell and left the room.

Talisen was plucking the strings of his harp. "To think that all this time I was keeping company with the son of Cuillean! I will have to make a song about it."

Collun stood abruptly. "I want no such song," he said roughly.

"Collun...," began Brie.

"You knew, didn't you?" Collun said, turning toward her.

"The very first time I saw you in the Traveler's Rest, I noticed the resemblance to Cuillean—the color of your hair and eyes. But you said you were the son of a blacksmith, and I sensed no guile in your words. Then I heard you speak your mother's name in Temair."

"Cuillean was a friend of your father, wasn't he?" said Talisen.

"Yes," replied Brie, her voice flat.

"This is astounding, is it not, Collun? A true adventure," Talisen continued, enthusiastically. "To find you are the son of a great hero, hidden away in Inkberrow for all these years. I never did like that old beetle-browed Goban. Son of Cuillean...!"

But Collun only felt blank inside.

"Just think what they'd say back in Inkberrow if they knew you were the son of Cuillean," continued Talisen.

Son of Cuillean, son of Cuillean ... The words echoed in Collun's head. He rose. Brie gave Talisen a warning look, but he went prattling on.

"And all that time Emer was really wed to Cuillean..."

"Quiet!" Collun suddenly shouted, his voice cracking. Then he felt his stomach heave. He fled from the room. Leaning his forehead against the cold stone of the corridor wall, Collun retched until his stomach held nothing more.

Collun didn't know how he got there, but he was in the cavern of the horses, sitting by the pool. He cupped his hands and filled them with cool water to splash on his hot face. Then he idly began plucking handfuls of the flower turf. It was not long before the familiar white-and-gray muzzle dropped down by his hand.

The animal must have sensed Collun's turmoil for he was uncommonly patient, allowing the boy, for the first time, to stand beside him and run his hand along his mane. It was soft, not wiry and coarse like manes Collun had touched before. He had an overwhelming urge to bury his face in it, but he did not dare.

And then, again without knowing how it happened, Collun was astride the horse. His hands clutched Fiain's silky mane. They were moving through the Ellyl herd. They came to the end of the cavern, and Fiain took them through a passage to an even larger one. And then they were flying over the ground at a gallop. For a brief moment Collun was terrified, but then he abandoned himself to the dizzying sensation of motion and speed.

His legs were locked fast to the horse's body. He buried his hands and face in the streaming mane. Hot tears coursed down his cheeks. The horse moved with the fluid grace of a nighthawk, and Collun wondered if its hooves were even touching the ground.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the ride was over. Fiain came to an abrupt stop. Collun tumbled off his back onto the spongy turf.