Juliet Marillier - Hearts Blood
“Fire without smoke; smoke without fire. The method is in one of those grimoires. As I said, she was—is—an able practitioner of sorcery.”
Anluan had bunched his good hand into a fist. His eyes were cold as frost. “There is no doubt that Nechtan wronged her,” he said. “But this is indeed a long and bitter vengeance.Where is she now?”
Seeing the fury on his face, no less alarming for the obvious control he was imposing on himself, I was glad I had not mentioned that Aislinn had threatened me with a carving knife. “I don’t know,” I said. “But she’ll be watching. We need to be careful right up until the words of the counterspell have been spoken. She doesn’t like things to deviate from the pattern she has established here. She will fight to keep her curse in place, though I think it has caused her only misery. She tried to make me give her the book by tormenting Gearróg, and then by hurting the little girl. In the end I passed it over and she ripped it up.”
A silence; five pairs of eyes were turned on me in question.
“So she believes we can’t do it,” I said. “She saw me using the obsidian mirror with her book open; she must know, or guess, that I’ve seen the ritual. But from what she said, it’s plain that she doesn’t credit me with the wit to remember the words of Nechtan’s invocation after one hearing and a glance at her book. The counterspell is very simple: the chieftain must speak the Latin invocation backwards. I imagine the other elements of the ritual would need to be the same, the pentagram, the snake circle, the herbs and so on. There is a woman of the host who might be able to assist with that.”
Anluan was still staring at me. “You memorized it? All of it?”
I nodded.“And now you must do the same,” I said.“In private, behind closed and guarded doors. Aislinn won’t want us to do this. If she believes it’s a vain attempt based on little more than guesswork, we might manage to finish it.”
“Are you certain this will work, Caitrin?” Eichri’s voice was unsteady.
“Not certain, no. But I am sure I have the words correct, and I am sure about the form of the ritual.What remains to be tested is Aislinn’s conviction that the counterspell is something so obvious. It seems surprising that Nechtan did not think to try it.”
“He probably didn’t want to,” Magnus put in. “He may never have given up the idea that he could some day turn the host into the mighty army he wanted.And if that was his thinking, he probably never told Conan the words of the original invocation—why would he? Most likely, there was no written record of it apart from these notes of Aislinn’s. Of course, there was the book Nechtan got it from in the first place, but Conan may not have known about that.”
“Besides,” I said,“she did pronounce the curse, a hundred years of sorrow and so on, and perhaps the counterspell wouldn’t have worked until that time was up.”
“Which it is tonight,” observed Olcan from his corner. “All Hallows’ Eve.”
“If Muirne—Aislinn—is as clever as you say,” Eichri said, “she must know that.Why is she fighting against it?”
I could not think how to put it into words: my conviction that Aislinn was trapped in her own spell, that her wish to punish and hurt each chieftain of Whistling Tor in turn went parallel with her love for them. I imagined her dropping the poison into the jug as tears welled in her eyes.
“Aislinn is not part of the host,” Eichri pointed out.“The counterspell might not work on her. She might linger on forever, casting a blight on the Tor and all who dwell here. Don’t look at me like that, Caitrin.”
“She will be gone from here before the sun rises again,” Anluan said, his voice like iron. “As for the threat today, while I am on the Tor Muirne must comply with my will.We must prepare to enact this ritual, and when we need her to come, I will summon her.” He looked at the others, each in turn, his eyes resting last on Eichri and on Rioghan. “You understand that I must do this,” he said.
“Ah, well,” said Eichri with a forlorn attempt at nonchalance,“I’d best claim on that last wager, Councillor. Pay up!”
Rioghan thrust a hand into his robe and drew out a shining silver coin. It danced across the tabletop into his old friend’s hand.
“What was that one for?” I asked, blinking back tears.
“Whether you’d be back before or after Anluan won his battle.”
I stared at them. “You all believed I would come back?”
“You belong here.” Anluan’s fingers tightened around mine. “Sending you away was the worst error of my life, as our friends here have been reminding me regularly ever since the day we found you gone. I did not consider that in losing you, we lost our beating heart.”
“It was right for me to go.And right for me to come back.”
“Did you find that sister of yours?” Magnus asked. “I liked the sound of her.”
“There’s a whole story there, part sad, part happy, part in between. When we have time, I’ll tell it.” I glanced at Anluan. “I should teach you the charm. It’s in Latin, and you have to say it backwards.”
“Brighid save me.We’d best start straightaway.” Anluan rose to his feet. “Or almost straightaway; I must wash and change, at least. Olcan, will you need help . . . ?”
“I’ll help him,” Magnus said. “You’ve more than enough to do. Brave fight.You showed your colors as a leader, in my opinion.”
Anluan inclined his head in acknowledgment, his cheeks flushing red. Magnus’s words had been akin to a father’s recognition that his son had proved himself a man.
“We’ll be needing to receive Brión and Fergal up here some time later,” Rioghan said. “Word is that they’ll report in person once the Normans are driven beyond the borders. Since you’ll be busy, Magnus, I’ll make some arrangements for that; look out the best mead and so on.”
“Thank you,” Anluan said. “Caitrin, I’ll send Cathaír across for you as soon as I’m fit for company. I want you to keep Gearróg with you at all times. Call him in now; stay in sight of him.”
Then he went away to his quarters, and Eichri headed off to look for the mead and some other supplies suitable for visiting chieftains. After speaking quietly to Olcan, Magnus called in two burly men of the host to help lift Fianchu. I gave the hound a little kiss on the nose, and Rioghan grasped Olcan by the arm, saying,“A grievous loss, old friend. I wish you strength.” Then they bore the dog away for burial.
Rioghan and I were alone in the kitchen save for Gearróg standing guard just inside the back door. It felt necessary to do something, to keep my hands busy, so I found a cloth and wiped down the table, thinking that if Orna had not volunteered to come with me last night she might still be here stirring a pot or ordering her assistants about. I hoped their losses would not sit too heavily on the folk of the settlement. It would be important to maintain the extraordinary trust it seemed had developed during the time of the Norman threat. Anluan would be very busy indeed, and so, I supposed, would I.
“Caitrin.” Rioghan had seated himself at the table again, long hands clasped before him. He sounded unusually tentative.
“Mm?”
“Do you truly believe this will work? This counterspell?”
“I hope so,” I said. “As I said, there’s no certainty to any of it. But I believe we must try.”
The silence drew out. I turned to look at him, surprising a strange expression on his pallid face. He looked as if he had found a long-sought treasure, and at the same time as if he were about to lose what he loved best in the world.
“You’ve helped Anluan achieve something truly remarkable today,” I said. “In the eyes of the outside world, his winning that battle must seem the stuff of an impossible dream.”
For a long time Rioghan did not speak.Then he said,“I’ll miss him. I’ll miss you. I’ll even miss that disreputable excuse for a monk. I used to think that if the counterspell was ever found I’d fight it with all my strength. But . . .I think perhaps I’m ready to go.Today was a stunning success. My plan worked perfectly. But I don’t feel jubilant. I don’t feel vindicated. I just feel tired.”
“If it works, you might see him again,” I said softly.“Your lord, Breacán. For certain, you will not go back to that in-between place. Not after this.”
“You think not?” His smile was doubtful.
I sat down opposite him, reached across and took his hands in mine. “I’ve seen what a good person you are, Rioghan. Loyal, brave, kind . . . You’ve been strong in your support for Anluan. I truly believe your past error will not haunt you beyond this point.”After a moment I added,“This place won’t be the same without you.”
“Ah, well.” He shook his head as if to rid it of doubts.“All I can say is, thank God you’re here, Caitrin, to keep our boy company. As for the rest of us, we’re probably best forgotten.”
“Don’t ever think that,” I said with a lump in my throat. “If nobody else sets your stories down in writing, I surely will.You’re part of the history of the Tor. Now stop this or I’ll be crying too hard to act like a lady when these visitors get here. And I want to make a good impression.”
Anluan and I spent the next hour or two shut up in his quarters together. Doubtless the folk from the settlement had their own ideas about what we were doing.We did not emerge until Anluan had memorized the form and words of the ritual, though he did not practice saying the counterspell aloud. He would do that only tonight, when all was ready. We talked at length about what must be done and came to one conclusion. We could make every aspect of the ritual as close as possible to last time, but there was no knowing whether the result would be as we wished. All the same, we must try.
There was a great deal to be done.The wounded still lay in what had been the chapel, and needed attention. The folk of the settlement were getting ready to go home, bearing their dead with them.And the materials for the ritual must be prepared. Fianchu had been laid to rest down at the farm, and now both Magnus and a red-eyed Olcan turned their attention to helping with the preparations. Magnus collected the herbs we needed. I remembered the names of only two or three of them, but the wise woman offered her grave advice as to which would aid the transition between worlds. Olcan obtained clean sand from a supply at the farm. Under my directions he marked out the pentagram with its enclosing snakelike circle. The wise woman went to harvest the herb called goldenwood. No matter, she said, that it was not the sixth day of the moon—gathered with the correct form of words, the herb would be equally effective. She was away for some time before walking out of the forest with the small branch across her outstretched hands.
These activities halted for a while when Brión of Whiteshore and Fergal of Silverlake came up the Tor to greet Anluan and to tell him Lord Stephen’s forces had withdrawn from all three territories. The two chieftains drank some of our mead and spoke of the future. If there was a slight unease in their demeanor, it was well concealed, and their manner toward Anluan was both courteous and respectful. Anluan agreed that a council should be called before winter weather made traveling too difficult. Stephen de Courcy would likely be only the first of many upstart foreigners wanting a bite of good Connacht land. Mention was made of Ruaridh Uí Conchubhair, and of how things might be different if one of his sons took his place as high king.The local leaders must stand strong and united until that time came. I listened intently as I smiled and passed around the mead, but my mind was on tonight, the ritual, Aislinn. Where was she? Did she still possess some means to undo our efforts?
The visiting chieftains did not stay long. Each was keen to head home with his fighting men now the job was done. Anluan thanked them for their support and expressed his deep regret for their losses. Brión left us two healers who had accompanied his army, since he knew our household was small and would be stretched in providing the necessary support for those who lay wounded. When our visitors were gone, we bade farewell to the folk of the settlement, who were ready to leave the Tor. Tomorrow, Anluan said, we would go down and attend a ritual for their dead. After time for mourning, he would be wanting to speak with them about the future. I saw that already new leaders were stepping up to take the places of Tomas and Orna. Duald, who had once been so afraid of a wandering scribe, was one of them, and Orna’s friend Sionnach seemed to be speaking up on behalf of the women.There would be a path forwards for all of us. If the counterspell worked; if Aislinn had been right about it. If I had remembered correctly. If nothing else got in the way. Seeing the hope in the eyes of Gearróg and Cathaír and the others, I prayed that I had not made a terrible mistake.
As dusk fell, the host began to gather in the courtyard: men, women and children in little groups or alone, waiting. The buzz of excited talk that had broken out earlier in the day was gone, replaced by a hush of anticipation. Anluan had told me he wanted to talk to the host before the ritual began, and he was doing so now. He wasn’t making the kind of grand speech people expect a victorious chieftain to deliver on his return home. Instead, he was walking among them, a tall figure clad all in black, giving each in turn what time he could, listening to each, telling each how sorry he was that his ancestor’s ill deed had condemned them to a hundred years of misery. I watched their faces from where I stood with Magnus by the circle. I saw no anger there, no sorrow, only respect, acknowledgment and a dawning hope. Tonight, this very night we will be at rest.
“This must work,” I muttered. “It has to.”
“What if Muirne doesn’t make an appearance?” Magnus asked quietly. “It sounds as if it can’t succeed without her.”
I had discussed this point with Anluan at some length: what Aislinn’s part must be, whether she should stand in the center again and what would happen to her if she did. She would not be willing. She’d have to be coerced to take her place, and that felt wrong to me.
“She’ll do it if I bid her,” Anluan had said. “Caitrin, the girl is a murderess several times over. She must be banished with the rest of them. If Nechtan’s spell of summoning required her to stand in the middle of the pentagram, then we must do that again.”
“I suppose she will come if Anluan calls her,” I said now. “She has always obeyed him.” But still, in the depths of my mind, I wondered if this was right. Anluan had not seen that last vision in the obsidian mirror. He had not felt Aislinn’s utter terror as she realized Nechtan would not save her, that he didn’t want to save her, that her life was the price of his success. Yes, she had performed evil acts; she was a killer.Yet I knew that if it were up to me to make her step into the center tonight, I would not be able to do it.
I made my own farewells as dusk darkened to night.The cool light of the moon shone down into the courtyard, illuminating the wan faces of the host. The wise woman: I thanked her for her calm assistance and she bowed her head in grave acknowledgment.Why this self-possessed, serene creature had found herself amongst Nechtan’s host, I could not understand. The monks, who now emerged from the chapel to join the others: I thanked them for their skill with the wounded. “And for your singing,” I added. “When I heard that, it seemed to me that God was present even here, in this place folk call accursed. I remembered that when we go astray, he leads us home.”
