Juliet Marillier - Hearts Blood
“It was not clear whether her death was the work of a malign force or an unfortunate accident,” Anluan said. “I won’t speak of it further. If you wonder why it has taken me so long to make my decision, if you were surprised that I could not speak of this to you earlier, this was the most powerful reason. I could step boldly forth, issue a challenge to Stephen de Courcy, use the host as my personal army. If the old pattern were repeated, I could become instrumental in destroying what I hold most dear.Then I would be Nechtan all over again.”
After a little, I said,“But you will do it anyway.You said you had made your decision.”
Anluan rose to his feet. I saw him gathering himself. I saw his gaze sharpen, his back straighten, his mouth become resolute. “The first part of it, at least. I know little of strategy, diplomacy, the conduct of war. My father died before he could teach me how to be a leader. If it were not for Magnus, I would be still more ignorant. But it seems to me that I must hold a council before the Normans come: my own council. I heard how you addressed the host, and I saw how they listened. I learned, that day, that if one speaks to them with respect they will respond as living men and women might. I have delayed this almost too long, thinking I might find a counterspell—that would have changed everything.”
“A council,” I breathed. He really was going to do this.
“The folk of the settlement must also be invited, unthinkable as that seems. If we are all agreed, then I must risk leaving the hill to speak to de Courcy’s emissaries. I cannot think much beyond that. I have not yet mastered the art of being brave in large steps. This still frightens me, Caitrin. I must learn not to let it show. I suppose that is part of being a chieftain.” His mouth twisted. Beneath the new Anluan, the one with bright eyes and determined jaw, the uncertain boy still lingered.
“I have faith, Anluan,” I said quietly. “Faith that this will be for the good. Faith in you.”
He reached out a hand in my direction, not meeting my eye. I got up and slipped my hand in his. “I hope you’re right, Caitrin,” he said. “Because, from this point on, I must set aside all my doubts.A leader cannot be seen to have misgivings. As for this council, I do have Rioghan. Let us go and speak to him.” For a moment, just a moment, he put his arm around my shoulders. “Thank you,” he said, and touched his lips awkwardly to my temple. It was the boy who did that; but it was the man whose body brushed against me, setting my pulse racing and sending the blood to my face. “Without you, I would not have found the courage.”
We met Rioghan in the courtyard; it was not necessary to summon him. He was quick to comprehend the situation. Almost before I had finished explaining my theory to him, he and Anluan were putting plans into place.
“How soon?” Rioghan asked. “We’ve only a few days until this delegation from Lord Stephen comes to the settlement.Would tomorrow suit you, my lord?”
Anluan let the formality pass without comment. “I don’t expect anyone will come up from the settlement,” he said, “no matter how carefully the invitation is worded.We must offer them the opportunity, but we need not allow them a great deal of time.As for the host, they won’t be comfortable with a daytime council.We should meet this evening after supper. Can you have everything ready by then?”
If Rioghan thought that not quite long enough for adequate preparation, his doubt showed only momentarily. “Yes, my lord, if Magnus can be spared to take a message down the hill this morning.You’re right, the folk of the settlement will want to be kept abreast of things.They may be afraid of us, but I’d wager they fear the Normans far more. As for the trappings required, you can leave those to me.”
“Trappings?” I asked, thinking that perhaps I should return to the library to work, leaving this to the men.The change in Anluan was startling; I saw it reflected in his councillor. Perhaps my theory really was correct. Perhaps all it took to turn things around was hope.
“This and that,” Rioghan said. He was almost smiling; his eyes had a glint in them.“I’ll deal with it. Someone needs to tell the host. I won’t have time for that, and neither will Eichri. I’ll be using him as my assistant.”
“Since this is an exercise in trust,” I said,“what about my guard, Cathaír? So far he’s been very willing to help me. I could ask him to let all the folk of the Tor know about this. If you agree, Anluan.”
Anluan frowned. “I know little about this Cathaír. And who would guard your chamber in his absence?”
“I know the young man.” A memory of past sorrow echoed in Rioghan’s tone. “He is trustworthy, my lord. A warrior who could have been a future leader, a fine one, had his life not been cut brutally short.”
Anluan and I looked at him. Neither of us asked for further explanations.
“Very well,” Anluan said. “Caitrin, please ask Cathaír if he will help us. Perhaps he will also find you another guard—by all the saints, this requires act after act of blind faith.We can’t have the entire host present at our council. That could quickly turn to chaos.What we need are representatives.”
“A sound idea, my lord.” I could almost see Rioghan making a list in his mind and crossing off items one by one. “Eight or ten would be a good number. They should be aware that they’ll be putting forwards the opinions of the others.There will be a need for some consultation before this evening.The unpalatable fact is that if this comes to war, the host is the only army Whistling Tor has.”
“We’d best get to work,” Anluan said.
“Of course.” Rioghan’s tone was level, controlled.“Just one more question, my lord.Where should we hold this? The great hall? The library?”
“Out of doors.” I had the impression that Anluan had already made these decisions, perhaps some time ago. “The host won’t be comfortable within four walls. We’ll gather in the courtyard. I’ll leave the practical arrangements to you, Rioghan. I doubt if they will be taxing to a man of your experience.”
Cathaír responded to the challenge, listening intently as I explained what was planned, though he could not still the restless movement of his eyes. He strode off into the forest, and very shortly afterwards a strapping, shaven-headed warrior appeared on the gallery outside my bedchamber to announce that he would take on Cathaír’s duties as guard while the younger man addressed the folk out in the woods.
“Not much of a thinker myself,” the warrior said, planting his legs apart and leaning on his spear. “The lad can speak for me, and I’ll do this job for him. Nobody will get past while Gearróg’s on guard, my lady.”
“Thank you, Gearróg. I’m not a lady, I’m a craftswoman. Please call me Caitrin.”
“You’re a lady to us.” The big warrior sounded a little awkward, but his tone was warm. “Young fellow says maybe his lordship’s going to take things in hand at last.That true?”
His eyes held the same desperate hope I had seen in Cathaír’s when first he came to speak with me. It was important not to lie. “Anluan will do his best. This is difficult for him. He can’t easily shake off the shadows of the past.”
“What about us? They’re saying maybe there’s something can be found that will let us go. Let us sleep at last. Something to silence that voice, the one that puts bad things in our heads. I’d give anything to make that happen, my lady.”
“Voice? What voice?”
“We don’t talk about it.” Gearróg’s eyes darted nervously from side to side, as if this entity might appear from nowhere to punish him if he said more. “It turns us wrong way up and inside out. When it’s there we don’t know what we’re doing. You never know when it’ll come.” Then, after a moment,“I don’t suppose it’s true, what they’re saying. Stands to reason. It’s our punishment, being here. If there was a way to stop it, someone would have done it before.”
“There might be a counterspell,” I said cautiously. “I’m looking for it in the old books. If there is one, Anluan can use it to let you all go. But I can’t make any promises about that, only that I’ll try my hardest to find it before the end of summer.”
“End of summer? Why then?”
“I was hired for the summer. I assume that when it’s over I will . . . leave.” Go home did not sound right. Increasingly, I was feeling as if this odd place, the place no person in her right mind wanted to come near, was my real home, and Market Cross an alien place, the stuff of nightmare.
“Leave? You’d leave, just like that?”
The warrior’s tone, shocked, sad, perfectly reflected my own feelings on the matter. “I can’t say. It depends on what Anluan does; on the Normans; on all sorts of things.” No matter what happened, I wanted to stay. Even if there was war; even if something went wrong and chaos descended on Whistling Tor. I wanted to be here with my friends. I wanted to stand by Anluan’s side as he faced this challenge. “I hope I won’t have to go,” I said. “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”
Gearróg grinned, showing a mouthful of broken teeth, and made a gesture as if he were sealing his lips.“Best go and find his lordship, my lady. He’ll be needing you. Oh, and I’ll keep an eye on the wee girl. Cathaír says that’s part of the job up here. She’ll be safe with me.”
I had not even noticed the ghost girl crouched in a corner of the gallery, rocking Róise in her arms.
“I’m good with little ones,” Gearróg said.“Had a brood of my own once, I seem to remember. Gone. Long gone. Can’t quite recall their names.”
“I hope one day you’ll see them again.” I blinked back sudden tears.
His smile was sad now. “Me, go where they’ve gone? That’s not going to happen, my lady. Best I can hope for is the long night of no dreams. Never mind that. Off you go now. I’ll keep things safe for you.”
Anluan explained the plan to the rest of his household, with my help and Rioghan’s. Magnus’s broad features were transformed first with surprise, then with relief that at long last his chieftain had made the decision to act. Olcan listened intently. Muirne came in late. She did not speak until the discussion was finished, and then she said quietly, “This is insanity.You must know what will happen. Are you all fools, that you give credence to Caitrin’s misguided theories? The chieftain of Whistling Tor does not leave the hill. He cannot.”
“You’d best not be present for the council if you’re fixed in that opinion,” Rioghan told her.“Anluan will make a strong statement of his intention. As his household, we must be seen to stand behind him. If you can’t do that, it’s best if those present don’t hear from you.”
She turned her chilliest look on him. “You think to exclude me?” she asked. “You, the man whose wise advice sent his leader and all his fellow warriors straight to a bloody slaughter? Are you so carried away with this ridiculous plan that you have forgotten your beloved Breacán?”
Rioghan flinched visibly. Eichri got to his feet, putting a skeletal arm around his friend.“That was a low blow,” the monk said.“Let us not argue amongst ourselves, or we’ll never be ready in time.We’re not going to war tonight, only to a council.”
Anluan was seated at the head of the table. Now he got to his feet, his eyes on Muirne, who was in her usual place opposite him. “If you belong to my household, if you are loyal to me, then you are part of the plan.We do it all together. And we support one another. There are precious few of us.We must work as one.”
In answer, Muirne rose to her feet and left the room. It was the first time I had seen her treat Anluan with anything other than fawning adoration, and I found the change unsettling. The men, however, seemed to think little of it. Magnus was quizzing Anluan about exactly what he should be saying to Tomas and the other villagers during the brief visit that was all he had time for. Eichri was making an effort to divert Rioghan’s mind from the unthinkable words Muirne had hurled at him by offering a crew of monks to set things up for the council. I tried not to consider the possibility that Muirne was right, and that we were heading straight into disaster.
Anluan had said the council should take place after supper. With Magnus gone down the hill,there would be no supper unless someone else attempted to cook. Anluan and Rioghan paced together outside, working out exactly what should be said to this evening’s gathering. Olcan had gone down to the farm to tend to the animals. I put together a simple repast, vegetables and herbs in a kind of pie with a crust made from stale bread.
Eichri came into the kitchen in search of a cloth to drape over the bare wood of the council table.“Rioghan tells me this calls for a certain degree of ceremony. I wouldn’t know. It’s been a long time since there was a council held at Whistling Tor. More years than any of us can remember.”
“Not as long as that, surely.” I lifted the lid of the pie dish to examine my creation. It smelled surprisingly good. “There was the council where Irial met Emer.Twenty-seven years, thirty; a long while ago, but well within your memory and those of all who were part of Irial’s household. Eichri, don’t go yet, I need to ask you something.”
The monk hesitated on the threshold, his expression suddenly wary.
“Do you believe it’s true, the theory we spoke of earlier?” I wanted to ask him whether he could remember the time of blood, Nechtan’s time, and the terrible things the host had done. I wanted to know if he had felt a change in himself with the coming of each new chieftain. But how could I ask something so outrageously personal?
“Maybe.” It was clear this was not the question he had expected.
“Eichri, there’s an older warrior, Gearróg, guarding my bedchamber today. He spoke of a voice. A voice that whispers in the ears of the host all the time, speaking evil, tormenting them. Can you tell me what this voice is? Is it the same force Anluan fears so much, the dark entity that exists within the host?”
Eichri’s face closed up before my eyes.“I know nothing of that,” he said.
“Really?” It was obvious that he was lying to me.
“This fellow you mention should keep his mouth shut.”
“More secrets,” I said.
“Not secrets. Just things best left unsaid. I must go.” Eichri forced a smile. “That smells good.You’ll be taking over Magnus’s job next.”
“Nobody could ever do that,” I said as my companion went out. Magnus was the real heart of Whistling Tor. He held everything together.What if there was a battle and he was killed? No, I would not think of such things. I seized an onion, stripped off the skin and began to chop with more force than was really necessary.
“Smells tasty.” Olcan was at the door, Fianchu behind him.“I won’t come in, I’m all over dirt. Brought some greens for supper.” He held out a bunch of glossy dark leaves. “Everything all right? I thought you’d be holding Anluan’s hand, advising him about tonight, not in here slaving over the fire.”
“Olcan, may I ask you something?”
