Chapter Fourteen
THE PHANTOMS
Each of her heads was similar in its cadaverous thinness, its sickly whiteness of skin, and its greasy, straggling hair. Finn's first sight of the bizarre creature startled him, but he remembered Caoilte's warning and struggled to suppress any sign of it.
A third figure now moved forward into the light. This one, in contrast to the hag, had no head at all. But a single, large eye peered unbhnkingly at them fi*om the center of its wide, flat chest.
The lipless mouths of the hag's three heads opened and, in three voices screeching in unison, she spoke: "You have accepted the hospitality of our house. We are pleased to have you here, one called Finn. We also give greetings to Caoilte MacRonan and special greetings to our Little Nut."
Cnu Deireoil had liftied the bag before his face when she appeared, as if to hide himself. But now he lowered it, his expression fearful.
"Rise up, you that are in the house!" the three voices squawked. "Make music for our guests!"
And from the shadows to the right of the three, figures rose suddenly. They were clad as warriors, holding shields and swords in their hands. But though they moved like living men, they had no heads.
From the other side of the bed, heads rose into the air. They lifted as if held by unseen hands. Nine heads to match the nine headless warriors. Their bulging eyes rolled wildly and their throatless mouths moved as they all began to wail together.
As they raised their song, the hag's three heads joined their chorus. A wolflike howl rose from the gray man, and a high-pitched humming came from the body of the one-eyed man. All joined in a dreadful, discordant sound that Finn felt like a knife driving through his skull, rattling his teeth, breaking the bones of his head.
He wanted to lift his hands to stop his ears against it, but Caoilte, seeing him start to move, snapped another warning.
"Don't make a move! Don't do anything that could give them insult or it could be our end. Act as if it's the finest song you ever heard!"
So Finn gritted his teeth, clenched his hands tightly together, and smiled as warmly as he could. So did his comrades.
This seemed to work. When the singers realized their awftil noise was having no effect on their guests, their voices died away. The warriors retired. The heads sank down. For a moment a blessed silence fell.
"The entertainment's done," the gray man said then. He lifted a great ax from its pegs upon the wall and grinned broadly at the three, an insane light glowing in his eyes. "Now it's time for eating!"
For a moment Finn wondered if he meant to eat them, but he turned away from the three toward the tethered horses, lifting the ax.
Realizing his intent, Finn started to rise, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.
"You ca—" he began to protest.
The hand of Coailte jerked him roughly back and his sharp hiss cut Finn off
"No! I said do nothing!"
Finn sat helpless, watching in anguish as the man approached their horses. They crowded back in terror, tugging at the reins. The gray man reached them. The ax flashed out. Quick, well-aimed, powerful blows severed each beast's head cleanly. They thudded to the floor amid streams of their pulsing blood.
The ax slashed out swiftly, rhythmically, hacking into the bodies even as they fell. Finn stared in shock at the violent butchering as the gray man, in what seemed only moments, flayed the carcasses, stripping great, ragged chunks of flesh from the bones.
The one-eyed man then brought him a bundle of long wooden spits. On each the gray man speared a chunk of meat and then laid the spits across the hearthstones. The fresh meat hung almost in the searing flames. The smell of blood and scorched flesh filled the room, mingling with the stench of smoke.
The man had just time to finish setting afl the spits when the hag's three heads began to cry out: "Time enough for it to be done! Feed our guests! Feed our guests! Feed our guests!"
The gray man took spits from the fire and handed one to each of the three. Finn gazed down at his in disgust, for the meat upon it was raw, the red blood still dripping from it.
**Take your food away!" he told the gray man, handing back the spit.
"Don't do that, Finn!" Caoilte warned.
"I will!" the young man retorted in heat. "Ill not be made to eat raw meat for any reason. It's gone too far! This hospitality is madness if it means we can be treated so."
The gray man threw down the spit and lifted his ax to grasp it in both hands.
"If you have come into our house and refuse our food," he barked out angrily, "then you will surely go against ourselves, Finn!"
"Oh, no!" cried Gnu Deireoil. For at the man's
words, the nine heads rose up again, giving voice to a chilHng battle cry. The warriors' bodies charged forward with the gray man, weapons rising in attack. At the same moment, the fire was extinguished.
"YouVe done it now!" Caoilte shouted. "Get behind the bed!"
In the bhnding darkness, the three dove backward, barely escaping the weapons that swung out at them, wooshing harmlessly past. Caoilte seized the trestle of the bed and jerked it up. The heavy planks slammed into the bodies of the attackers, knocking them back.
"Get behind us, harper!" he ordered as he and Finn drew swords. "Finn, swing all about you! Keep them back!"
Finn began to swing out into the blackness, striking out at the invisible foes. Often his sword clanged against another blade or made a hollow thump as it struck a shield. But he couldn't tell if he was doing any harm.
As his eyes grew more accustomed to the dark, he could faintly discern figures shifting before him as thicker patches of blackness in the the black. These he would strike at, but still without any sign of effect.
He and his companions could not move. The logs of the outer wall were at their backs. So they fought doggedly on, Caoilte constantly urging Finn to keep swinging.
The young man's arm became weary, then wearier. It ached, it throbbed, it grew leaden. Moving the stiffening joints took a greater effort as the time crawled by, and he became certain that his sword's weight was increasing rapidly.
Still he continued to fight, holding back the shadowy horrors. Beside him Caoilte fought with like determination, while the Little Nut huddled on the floor behind.
It was at the point when the weary Finn was wondering if this ordeal would never end that the worst came. In a sudden move, the shadowy forms seemed to draw together and then rush forward in a single mass.
He felt a force, like a wind, come hard against him.
It pushed at him, swirled around him. He felt it tugging, grasping at him, trying to roll upon him like a sea wave, trying to force him down. With a new strength bom of final desperation, he fought back, hacking about him with his sword, the blade raising a sharp wind of its own as he swung it back and forth. Still the forces were closing in, the pressure of them increasing. It occurred to him that this onslaught might be the finish.
It was. But not of him.
As abruptly as the attack had come, it was over. The force faded, and he realized that the shadows about him had vanished. Bewildered by this sudden end to the fight, he peered around him. He realized that the things around him were becoming more distinct. It was becoming lighter.
The air above was beginning to glow with a faint, rosy hue. He looked up toward it, at first fiirther con-fiised by the new phenomenon. Then he understood what he was looking at. It was the sky, growing brighter with the coming dawn.
As the light increased, he could see that the room had vanished, along with the forms of its strange occupants. He and his companions were now on a bare hillside.
With relief he found Caoilte still beside him. Gnu Deireoil crouched behind, both looking about them warily.
"Where did they go?" Finn asked.
**They were phantoms, lad," the warrior told him. *Things that haunt the darkness. The dawn wiped them away. That must be why they made that last fierce attack on us. Look there!"
Finn turned to see what he now pointed at. Their three horses, whole and alive as ever, stood tethered to a nearby bush, grazing peacefully.
"Was it real then," he said, "or some kind of dream ?^
"It was real enough," the Little Nut said, climbing to his feet, "and its power would have destroyed you if your spirit had failed you." He opened his bag to assure himself his harp had gone undamaged. "We were lucky to have made it through the night."
"Well, it's certain that the enchantment was raised against ourselves," Caoilte put in, "for they knew our names."
"It was those of the Sidhe that did it,"* said Cnu Deireoil.
The Sidhe! For Finn this was another name from the tales of the outside world that both Liath and Bodhmall had told him. Their descriptions of the mystical race that had left the upper lands of Ireland to dwell in hidden palaces beneath it had been both fascinating and terrifying.
Caoilte fixed a scrutinizing eye upon the harper. "And how do you know it was the Others in this?"
The question seemed to discomfort Cnu Deireoil. He hesitated, then said vaguely, "I—iVe had my meetings with them before."
"Ah, yes," Caoilte said thoughtfully. *They did show a certain special interest in you."
"TheyVe jealous of my playing," he said, then added quickly, "but it wasn*t myself they wanted. It was our young friend."
Caoilte looked toward Finn. "He's right, lad. It was you they were welcoming. Are those of the Sidhe really after you?"
Finn shrugged. "I don't know, Caoilte. That is the truth."
"Oh, that's fine, that is!" the warrior said irritably. "First the Fianna after you, and now the Others! It's a grand lot of enemies you have, lad. Are there any more that we should know about?"
"I'm sorry, Caoilte," Finn told him earnestly. "I told you before that you didn't have to help. I don't know why these Others' would be after me. I don't know who else might be."
Caoilte saw his distress and his own anger faded. "All right then," he said, sighing. "We've one more thing to be looking out for from here on. But," he added more sternly, "you be a bit less rash next time! If you had held your temper, we might have beaten them without a fight. Once they had welcomed us, they were bound not to harm us until we gave them insult.
That sword's not the answer to everything, you know. YouVe got to use your wits as well!"
"You're a fine one to be talking about using your wits," the Little Nut fired at him. "And you walking into that house without the least care when anyone with the wits of a nursing lamb would have seen there was something wrong."
"I knew there might be a danger!" Caoilte blustered in return. "I meant for the boy here to have a bit of experience with such things."
"How? By getting him killed?" cried Cnu Deireoil.
"If you'd listened to me, we would never have gone
• »» m.
"Listened to you?" said Caoilte, laughing derisively. "And what help were you, cowering behind us like a fiightened pup."
The harper drew his small fi*ame up stiffly in indignation.
"Fm afi*aid of no mortal man of Ireland, MacRonan, including you," he replied fiercely. "And there's no shame in respecting the great powers of the Sidhe folk.';
"Peace, friends," Finn said, holding up his hands between them. "You're neither of you fools nor cowards. We've survived, and that's all that matters now. Next time I'll be less rash and have proper respect. So, please leave off this quarreling, and let's be going on. We've still got our place of safety to find."
Grudgingly, the two antagonists agreed. With a last exchange of hostile looks, they and Finn mounted their horses and set out again. The animals seemed well rested and ftiU of energy. The men were somewhat less eager afi:er the long night's ordeal. But the Little Nut drew out his whistle and began a merry air. The music refi-eshed them like a chill bath, and soon they were riding with more vigor toward the west.
'This surely is a much wilder land," young Finn remarked.
The countryside had, in fact, been slowly growing
harsher for some time. The rolHng meadowlands had given way to starker landscapes of rugged hills and fields of rock, and sharp, bonelike spurs of stone now often thrust jaggedly from the soft flesh of the green hills.
The pathway had grown narrower and less traveled, its surface often nearly vanishing across wind-scoured, barren plains.
Finn found the changed scenery as beautiful in its way as the wild glens of Slieve Bladhma or the wide, lush vales they had just left. But here there was a sense that the land was challenging him, like a wild beast, proud of its savage freedom, not ready to meekly serve man. And this sense made the country all the more intriguing to him.
"It's a very hard land for those who hve in it," said Caoilte in a musing way. "You know, much as I was in a rush to leave it as a boy, iVe never found another place in all my traveling that had as much hold on me. I always come back."
"IVe never come here, myself," said the Little Nut. "It's not the best of places for the likes of me to make my living. And it's too cold." He shivered and wrapped his cloak tighter about him against the sharp breeze that whistled across the rocky fields.
Caoilte laughed. "Well, you'll never grow soft or rich living here, that's true enough. But it will be harder for our young friend's hunters to find him, or us.
On the morning of their third day of riding, they crossed a wide plateau and descended into a broad valley. Here they entered a forest of tall, slender pines. Caoilte led them through the confusing maze of trees whose high branches formed a lacy green canopy above. The wide hooves of their horses were nearly soundless as they plopped into the soft cushion of needles covering the forest floor.
Soon they came out onto the shores of a small lake. Before them was what seemed to Finn a most marvelous place. An entire ring fort seemed to float upon the water's surface. The circling stockade of logs rose Hke a
ship's sides from the water, holding the waves back from the buildings within.