The other two began to eat as well, for they'd had little chance for food since leaving Bantry. For some while they concentrated only on consuming, and the only sound fi*om them was chewing and occasional slurps. But with the first, sharp pangs of hunger eased, they took up their conversation once again.
It was Caoilte who began it. Taking a swig of ale to wash down a mouthftil of pork, he fixed his young companion with a searching eye.
"All right now, boy. Now that we've left behind your large friend and his warriors, I think it's time for you to tell us just why men of the Fianna are after you."
There it was, Finn thought. He had been expecting this since their escape. And once more the training of Bodhmall caused him to hesitate, reminding him that he must always protect himself.
"You said once that youd not ask me for more than I wished to say," he told the dark warrior.
"It had nothing to do with me then. Now it does. The little man and I are in this with you now, like it or not. From here on those Fian men will be seeking us along with you, and there are no men Td less want hunting me. So, if we're to become the stag to their hounds, I want to know why."
Finn knew that he was right. These men had earned his trust in the finest way; they had risked themselves to save him for no other reason than that he needed help. They deserved the truth.
"I will tell you then," he said. He looked around to see if anyone was nearby, and then leaned toward them. The two sat forward expectantly as Finn spoke in a hushed tone charged with great drama: "I am the son of Cumhal MacTredhoni."
The great revelation had less effect than he had pictured. To the Little Nut the name appeared to mean nothing at all. Caoilte's reaction was a raising of the eyebrows in mild surprise.
"Cumhal's son?" he said in a skeptical tone. "Try another, boy. There are none of Cumhal's family alive."
"There is one," Finn said. "I was saved. Just after my birth I was taken away to the forests of Slieve Bladhma by two women of my clan. I was kept hidden there until I was old enough to go into the world on my own."
"Hidden away, were you?" said the Little Nut with dsLvming understanding. "Well, its no wonder you know so little of the way of things."
"And it does explain the warriors of the Moma clan wanting to see you dead," Caoilte grudgingly admitted. "Maybe your story's true, lad."
"I don't know anything of that," Cnu Deireoil said. "It happened before—" Here he stopped abruptly.
r
"Before what?*' Caoilte asked, giving him a curious glance.
"Before I . . . began traveHng about Ireland, ** the harper finished in a casual way. "So, could you tell me
ofit?;;
"I don't know how you'd not have heard of it,** Caoilte said. "I was only a small child myself when it happened, but I remember. The MacMoma clan challenged the Baiscne for the leadership of the Fians. Cumhal, their chieftain, died in the fight. The rest of his warriors were killed or scattered, the clans power broken. Aed MacMoma earned the name of Goll in that battle, along with the captaincy of the Fianna."
"Goll MacMorna and the Fianna I do know of,'* said the Little Nut. "But what youVe telling me must have happened years ago. What threat can this one lad be to them now?"
Caoilte shrugged. "I don't know, unless they believe he could still challenge their control."
"That is exactly what I mean to do," said Finn with grim determination.
The two men looked at him in astonishment.
"YouVe going to challenge the MacMorna clan for leadership of the Fianna of Ireland?" Caoilte asked as if he could not believe what he had heard.
"I am," Finn answered. "It's what I'm meant to do; what I was raised to do. All those years in the glens, all I've known was that one day I would go out and regain the place of my father."
"How did you know that?" the harper asked.
"It was Bodhmall, one of the women who raised me, who told me who I was and what I would have to do."^^
"And did she tell you how you were to do it?" the dark warrior wanted to know.
"She was a servant in my father's house," Finn explained. "She knew little of the ways of fighting men or of the Fians or of the world beyond the dwellings of our clan."
"Especially after being cut oflF fi*om it for years," the Little Nut said dryly.
"She taught me all she could," Finn replied hotly in defense of Bodhmall. "She meant to see our clan's pride restored."
"Well, she set no easy task for you," Caoilte told him. "It's clear you've no idea of what you'll be facing."
"I know it will be difficult—" Finn began.
Caoilte broke in: "Difficult? Impossible is what I call it. You listen to me, boy, since you're so ignorant of the realities. To begin, Goll MacMorna will not just stand aside while some pup walks in and claims the captaincy."
"I mean to be ready," Finn shot back. "It's why I need to learn the best fighting skills I can."
"Being the greatest warrior in all Ireland won't be much help to you against his clan."
"I won't be alone. The others of the Clan na Baiscne will join me once they know Cumhal's son is alive. "
Caoilte gave a short, derisive laugh. "You really don't see, do you? You have no clan. It ceased to exist years ago. If any of its members have survived, no one knows where they are."
"Then I will find them," Finn said stubbornly. "I will gather them and I will restore their power. "
Frustrated by the young man's unshakable faith in his apparently ridiculous dream, Caoilte grew irritated.
"Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "To replace someone you never knew because this Bodhmall told you that you must? There's no logic to that."
"You don't understand, Caoilte," Finn said. "It's the honor of my family and myself that I'm fighting for. Without it, I'm nothing."
"You are alive!" Caoilte retorted. "That's what matters. Honor is an empty word that's done nothing but kill many good men fool enough to think it valuable."
"I didn't ask for your help," Finn told him. "I'm sorry you've become involved in this. But it is something that I have to do, and nothing will turn me from it."
Caoilte sighed in resignation. "Aye, lad. I see that. I knew you were a fool. Still, if you're bound to go
ahead with this madness, then Vm bound to make you the finest warrior that I can."
"You owe nothing more to me, Caoilte," Finn protested.
"Of course I do. I said that I would train you, and that I will do."
Finn smiled. "Why? For your honor?"
"For my code as a warrior," he swiftly corrected. "If the word of Caoilte MacRonan couldn't be trusted, rd have little worth to anyone as a fighter, now would I? So, you'll come with me. I know a place where I think well be safely hidden fi*om your Clan na Morna, at least for a time. And you can gain some fighting experience there as well, if things are as they used to be."
"What about me?" the Little Nut asked with some anxiety. "You'll take me there as well, won't you? I'll go nowhere alone with that great monster seeking me."
"You can come if you wish," Caoilte said carelessly. "Though you'll be of little use to us, we might at least get some pleasure fi-om your music."
"Little use?" he repeated indignantly. "And I suppose I was of little use at Bantry? It was I who saved you there, if you'd care to recall, not your sword."
"I would have gotten us out without your harp,** the warrior told him with great confidence. "I need no help fi-om anyone to see to myself."
"Is that right!" Cnu Deireoil said, getting to his feet, his face red with his anger. "Well, if you don't mind, I'll just leave you to yourself then for a time. I've lost my taste for the food and the company."
With that he grabbed up the bag containing his harp and stalked away.
"I don't think you should be making light of the man," Finn told Caoilte disapprovingly. "He has been a good fiiend."
"I won't have any harper putting on airs of his grandness with me, " the warrior rephed. "Never mind about him now. Just be finishing your own food. We'll have to push on soon. It's three good, hard days of walking to the place I was speaking of "
As they were cleaning up the last scraps of their
meal, the Little Nut returned to them. He was beaming in a smug and triumphant way.
"Well, my fine warrior, there'll be no more walking for us," he announced. "iVe talked with our most hospitable bruighaid"—here he touched the encased harp lightly and gave a wink—"and he's so in love with my playing that he's offered us the use of horses for as long as weVe need of them." He gave Caoilte a supercilious look. "How is that for being of Httle use?"
From Caoilte, the only response this drew was a cold return gaze. But Finn laughed heartily over the httle harper's well-deserved victory.
So when the three were ready to depart, Fearghal took them to his stables and supplied them with stocky, strong-limbed ponies from his extensive herd. He had the smallest he could find given to Gnu Deireoil, but the little man looked absurd perched atop the barrellike back of the animal, his legs sticking out on either side.
Thanking the bruighaid for his generosity, they rode away from the house, taking the road that led to the north and west. None of them took note of the huge blackbird that swooped down from the sky and took up its vigil upon the trio once more.
"We'd best be looking for a place where we can sleep," Finn MacCumhal suggested. They had come a great distance since leaving the bruidhean that afternoon, but soon the night would be coming upon them.
'There's no shelter for us hereabouts, " said Gnu Deireoil. "It'll be a night under the stars for us."
"Will it?" said Gaoilte, pointing ahead. "Then what's that?"
Some way ahead, in a rocky hillside half shadowed with the night's rising darkness, they saw a house. The red-yellow fire from within it was shining from the door, throwing a wedge of light out over the valley below it.
The Little Nut frowned in puzzlement. "I never knew of a house in this valley."
"Ah, there are likely many things you've no knowl-
edge of," the dark warrior replied in a superior tone. "It's best for us to go and see it. WeVe nothing to fear."
They moved toward the door. But as they came near to it, the form of a man appeared suddenly, black and huge against the Ught.
"My welcome to you," came the man's voice, a low and harsh sound, like a growl deep in a hound's throat. "It's a long time you were in coming here."
Finn shot a puzzled look at Caoilte. What had the man meant by that? His instinct for danger was aroused, tingling up his spine, lifting the small hairs at his neck.
But Caoilte seemed not to have noticed the remark. "We thank you for your welcome," he said politely.
The man moved aside to let them pass. He was broad and rugged in looks, roughly clothed, with a wild mass of gray hair and beard and a strange, intense light shining in his eyes. As they passed, he rudely jerked the bridles of the horses from their hands and drew the mounts into the room as well. Once all were inside, he slammed shut a thick wooden door behind them and shot home two heavy iron bolts with a final-sounding clank.
"I do not like this," murmured the Little Nut, looking uneasily at the locked door.
The closing of the door seemed to have extinguished the flames of the fire. The light that had attracted them had sunk to a few glowing coals. The room was very dark, everything beyond the small firepit concealed in thick, clinging shadows. To Finn, it was like a heavy covering had been thrown upon them. And the sensation of being smothered was made greater by an atmosphere both hot and nearly stifling.
The man pulled the horses ftirther into the room. They balked and snorted nervously, but he had no trouble hauling them along. He tied them to a roof pole by the fire.
"Caoilte, are you certain we should stay here?" Finn said softly while he was doing this.
"Of course I'm certain," the warrior assured him. "The man's a bit strange, that's true, but we've been
given welcome to this house and weVe accepted it, so weVe safe enough."
The man, overhearing this, stomped toward them, scowling.
"Are you thinking of leaving here?" he demanded angrily.
"We are not!" Caoilte answered with great earnestness. He shot Finn a meaningful look as he added: "No man of any worth at all would refuse another s hospitality. "
TTiis mollified the gray man. A smile of jagged teeth rent the beard. "All right then, sit!" he commanded, pointing to a bed of rough planks. "I'll serve you!
The three moved back and dropped down side by side on the bed. Finn felt the sharp spHnters of the unfinished planks striking up painfully into his flesh. He shifted, but that onlv made it worse.
"I do not like this. I do not like this," Cnu Deireoil was mumbling over and over to himself. He clutched the bag with his precious harp before him on his lap in a protective way.
The man, meanwhile, had gone to the low fire and was stroking it with tremendous energ\\ He shoved stick after stick of wood into the embers, burying all the glow. Soon a heavy smoke began to rise fi-om the pile and mushroom out into the room. Still he threw on more wood. More smoke blossomed outward. A thick white cloud filled the room, making the air acrid with its scent.
Finn felt as if he were being suffocated. He took a breath, drew the smoke into his lungs, and nearly choked.
"It seems"—he coughed out—"a very strange way to treat guests!"
"Quiet, lad!" Caoilte muttered to him in a warning tone. "Whatever happens here, do nothing rude. Accept every hospitality^ that's shown us with good grace!"
"Why?" Finn asked.
The smoldering fire had reached its flash point. The mound of wood ignited in a great burst, throwing a
bright red glare about the room, reveahng suddenly what the shadows had masked before.
"Because if we don't," the warrior said tightly, "then iVe a feeling that we may just be in a bit of trouble."
Across the fire from them they could now see another figure. It was an ancient hag, her bony limbs poking fi-om her ragged gown. And growing from the long and scrawny neck, like hideous blossoms from some grotesque flower, were three heads.