She would have to try to use the ritual of the Sidhe after all. It was her last hope, and it would take all of her strength and all of her skill…as well as all of her love.
Rioghan tried to gaze at the
luaidhe
stone, which still hung heavy from the iron chain in her hand, but found that it was difficult to see. Her vision was becoming blurred and hazy…and then the stone seemed to darken and glisten as her tears fell upon it, tears shed at last for a man she loved with all her heart but who might now be forever beyond her reach.
Tears of sorrow, wept for his loss by one who loves him.
Composing herself, folding her hands together with the chain of the
luaidhe
stone wrapped around the left one, Rioghan moved to stand in the very center of the stone circle. Donaill remained a few steps away.
Crouching down, she held out her right hand. “
Madra,
”
Rioghan said softly. “
Madra.
”
Several of the dogs padded softly out of the dark forest to stand close beside her, wagging their tails and greeting her but otherwise making no sound. With her hand on the gray shoulders of Scath, Rioghan lifted her head and began, once more, to sing.
But this time there were no words. She sang a pure, clear, primal note, one from deep in her throat, and soon she was joined by her loyal dogs who also raised their heads to the sky and sang the same deep, calling, primal song.
After a short time the dogs fell silent. Rioghan did the same. And all of them kept very still as a new visitor appeared at the edge of the clearing.
Slowly, quietly, the wild wolf made its way into the circle to see these strangers who had called it. It greeted the friendly dogs, who were both curious and accepting of their wild cousin. Then, head low, it walked over to the one whose call had been the most insistent.
Rioghan held very still as the wild creature approached. Gently she held out the chain with the
luaidhe
stone. The wolf turned toward it, breathing in the cold scent of the heavy stone, its own damp breath covering it in warmth and wildness and with life that could be controlled by no one.
With a quick glance at Rioghan, the wolf turned and trotted back into the forests, vanishing almost before the dogs knew it was gone.
Bring a wild creature willingly to your side as you stand within the stone circle, and allow its breath to touch the amulet.
The sky in the east began to lighten. The Sidhe moved closer to the stones of the circle. In just a few moments, the winter solstice sun would rise.
Rioghan sent the dogs back into the forest. They obeyed in silence. She took Donaill by one arm and slowly turned him so that he stood at the very center of the circle and faced the east.
Rioghan, too, turned to face the east, and then knelt down on the cold ground. She began to rake her fingers through the grass and soon had a little stack of dry grasses and pine needles and sticks…and from the white candle she had set down on the earth, she took the piece of holly at its base. It was the same piece of holly that Donaill had given her at the feast, and she laid it down atop the pile of kindling.
Last of all, she took the crystal of seeing out from beneath her black gown and held it out before her just as the winter solstice sun shot the first gleam of light above the horizon.
Blinking against its light, Rioghan held out the crystal and focused the brilliant beam directly onto the piece of holly. In the space of just a few heartbeats the wood and leaves began to show a thin curl of smoke. Then a tiny red glow appeared…and then the smallest hint of a bright yellow flame.
Rioghan sat back. The little stack of tinder she had gathered flared up into light, especially the piece of holly, which always burned with the hottest, brightest, fiercest yellow light.
Quickly she held out the iron chain and let the heavy amulet hang directly within the bright flame. The fire hissed and flared and spat as soon as the dark thing touched it, instantly leaping up as if in anger to attack the cursed stone.
A kind of vile steam began to curl up from the amulet, writhing up into the air in dirty gray-black tendrils. Then, suddenly, the chains on the stone broke and the cursed
luaidhe
stone fell straight into the fire. Rioghan dropped the chain in after it and quickly sat back, shielding her face as the blaze flared up bright as the sun and the filthy smoke from the stone and the chain exploded up into the air.
A flame kindled with the crystal you wear over your heart, for a crystal is like a living piece of the earth. It has beauty, constancy, and longevity—just as a true love has.
After a time, the smoke faded to something like normal, and the fire eased until it burned as pleasantly as any hearthlight. Rioghan watched as the last of the iron chain and cursed stone were consumed by her magical fire—and then she felt a touch at her shoulder.
Rioghan rose to her feet, turning swiftly to see Donaill standing before her and just beginning to smile down at her. As she stood in front of him she looked searchingly into his eyes, and to her joy saw warmth and recognition there. With the pale winter sun shining straight into his face, he drew her into his arms. “Rioghan,” he said. “Rioghan.”
She could say nothing, but simply held him as closely and as tightly as she could, pressing the side of her face hard against his broad chest and listening to the steady, strong, natural beat of his heart.
Quickly she broke away and ducked behind him. She caught hold of his arm and turned him so that now he faced the west, and then threw his heavy red cloak up over his shoulder so that the rays of the new sun shone directly onto the bare skin of his back.
As she watched, the last of the awful black stain faded away, and his skin was once again clean and perfect.
Together they turned to face the east, letting the pale rays of the winter solstice sun wash over them. The Sidhe stepped forward to stand just inside the stone circle. They, too, faced the east, and began to sing an ancient song of welcome for the newly returning sun, taking turns touching their pine sticks to the fire Rioghan had kindled and raising their torches to the dawn.
As the soft voices surrounded them, Donaill turned to Rioghan and pulled her close to him, wrapping his heavy red cloak over her and gently stroking her long black hair. “It is over, dear Rioghan,” he murmured. “And I have come home, thanks to you.”
“It was not I alone,” Rioghan answered, the side of her face close against his broad chest. “You found the strength within you to come to this place at the right time. I could have done nothing for you if you had not had the will to be here.”
“Nothing could stop me from being where you are. Not the lure of brightest treasure, not the cruelty of darkest magic. From this day I wish only to be where you are, and I can only hope that you might wish to be where I am.”
“I
do
wish it,” Rioghan whispered.
“Then…” He stepped back so he could see her, and raised her face so that he could look into her eyes. “Lady Rioghan,” he said, as the rising sun grew ever brighter, “will you do me the honor of being my wife, my only wife, my only love, for all the rest of your days?”
She looked up at him, into his shining blue eyes. She wanted to say,
I will! Oh, I will!
but found that the words were not quite there.
He saw the hesitation in her face. “You still fear betrayal,” Donaill said quietly.
She looked away, and nodded slowly. “I do. And yet…” Rioghan looked into his eyes once again. “No man could have broken a spell such as that one without the truest desire to do so. I believe you will and truly mean what you promise. And I can think of nothing more important in any marriage.”
“Well, I can say, dear Rioghan, that if ever there was a lady whose actions matched her words, it was you. And I can also say that I have learned a thing: no other woman should be allowed close to me, no matter how innocent her purpose may seem, for that is your place and yours alone.”
He smiled, and then bent down to give her the softest of kisses. “None can ever say with certainty that they will never betray another—but I believe with all my heart that if ever a man and woman could remain true to each other, you and I could remain so, Lady Rioghan of Sion.”
She smiled back at him, still looking straight into his eyes, and then nodded her head. “I will marry you, Lord Donaill of Cahir Cullen. Oh, I will.”
Together they embraced in the cool light of the winter solstice sun, as the chants of the Sidhe rose up all around them and the fire burned down until nothing was left but cool white ash, shining in the winter sun.
That evening beneath the blue-black sky, Rioghan and Donaill climbed up the mound of Sion. They found the Sidhe already gathered at the top, standing beside the stack of cut logs and deadwood that now covered the bare ashen spot at the center. Five of the Sidhe stood to one side, and each one held a blazing torch.
The five approached them, and Rioghan greeted them with tears in her eyes, suddenly feeling as though she might never see them again. Donaill turned to her and reached for her hand, and then he spoke to all the gathered Sidhe.
“This is the last night your lady will spend at Sion. At dawn tomorrow she will go with me to Cahir Cullen, there to become my cherished wife.”
The Sidhe all turned to each other upon hearing this, murmuring softly among themselves. “Yet you have this promise from both of us,” Rioghan said. “Sion remains yours, as it has always been; but Donaill and I together will serve you as its protectors and guardians and help you in any way we can. Indeed, if this place is safe for you now, it is because Donaill has seen to it that Men will not return. Sion is once again a haven and a home and a place of power for the Sidhe, as it was intended to be.
“You know that I have always served you, and this place, in whatever ways I could. And you have seen, of late, that Donaill too has done as he promised me, and more than once driven off
those who would steal from Sion and do it harm.
“Both of us will see that Sion, and her people, are protected from any who might do such harm ever again. I, Rioghan, swear this to you now, by the sacred light of the winter solstice flame.”
“And I, Donaill, swear this to you also, by the sacred light of the winter solstice flame.”
The Sidhe lowered their torches and began to speak.
“We thank you for all you have done for us, Lady Rioghan.”
“And we thank you as well, Lord Donaill.”
“You will both be greatly missed here at Sion.”
Donaill tried to smile, but could only shake his head. “I wish I could have prevented the theft and destruction that happened here. I was not…I could
not—”
“Do not trouble yourself, Donaill.”
“Sion needs no gold to be of value to us.” Rioghan took Donaill’s hand and smiled up at him. “It is time.”
The five Sidhe stepped back and bowed to Rioghan and Donaill. Then, carrying their torches, they moved to surround the stack of wood. The crowd fell silent as they began to speak.
“This is the night that follows the winter solstice.”
“From this time on, the nights grow shorter.”
“From this time on, the light of the sun returns to us.”
“We light this fire that all may mark this night.”
“We light this fire with the flames of the sun itself.”
The five Sidhe stepped forward and extended their torches until the flames touched the stack of wood. In a few moments the fire crept through the wood, spreading and growing and taking hold in larger and larger spots, until at last the flames leaped up to the dark sky and the entire stack was engulfed in bright yellow fire.
All of the Sidhe stepped back from the great mountain of flame, making a circle around the edges of the hilltop and sending their own chants up to the sky along with the roaring and the crackling of the fire. Two of those who had lit the bonfire walked to Rioghan and Donaill and handed each of them a burning torch.
“Take this, the light of the sun and of Sion, and keep it with you always.”
“We will see that it burns forever in the hearth of Sion, and we will be the keepers of the light.”
“We will care for this place, now and always, and welcome you here whenever you return.”
Rioghan embraced them both, and then together she and Donaill started on the path down the side of the mound. The sounds of the fire and the chant floated after them.
The cave of Sion sat dark and quiet. Only the faintest glow remained deep in the bottom of the stone-lined hearth. She and Donaill placed their torches down in the hearth, where the pine sticks could burn through and provide comforting heat and light on this long winter night. It was as if a little of the returning sun had been brought inside their very home.
Rioghan walked through the place where she had lived alone for so long, still saddened by the sight of its bare stripped walls. Yet in the places where all the beautiful gold and bronze and crystal had once rested, Rioghan found small stone lamps and white beeswax candles, new and clean and ready for lighting.
Very soon all of the candles were lit and casting their soft and wavering light throughout the cave and over the fur-covered sleeping ledge. The pine torches in the hearth snapped and burned pleasantly. Rioghan stood beside the ledge and turned to Donaill, waiting for him there in the shimmering light.