Taminy (58 page)

She
beckoned him to sit with her in the broad window seat. He did with some
timorousness which, in a man of his stature, was amusing. She smiled again,
watching him. When he had made himself comfortable at as respectful a distance
as the seat would allow, she asked, “What news?”

“There’s
been no movement of troops from Creiddylad. The Cyne’s been in seclusion since
the Flight. Rumors tell of his failing health—the Cwen and Airleas have left
him.”

“Yes,
I know. They’re coming here.”

Catahn
grinned. “Of course, you know. Ah, but did you know I sent an escort to meet
them?”

Taminy
laughed. He liked to try to catch her out. It made him feel as if he was
actually her protector. Well, he was that—the Meri had granted him the station
in an aislinn.

“A
Hillwild escort?” she asked. “Her poor driver will be petrified.”

“I
sent along an Osraed for good measure.”

“Wise
of you.”

“Meanwhile,
another group of pilgrims have arrived. They offer their children into your
service.”

“Only
their children? What of themselves?”

“They
say they are too old to be of any use.”

“I
shall have to speak to them about that.”

“It
would please me. They’re Hillwild—all the way from Moidart.”

Something
gray whispered at the fringe of Taminy’s awareness. She frowned. “How large an
escort did you send for Toireasa?”

“Seven
men, including the Osraed. It was Osraed Tynedale’s opinion that I had
over-done it.”

Taminy
shook her head. “They’re two days out still. The escort will meet them-?”

“Tonight,
I should imagine, Lady. Why?”

“They’re
traveling by carriage, stopping at night. A fast company of horsemen could
overtake them.”

Catahn’s
glossy black brows scudded up his broad forehead. “You fear retaliation from
Mertuile? They’ve done nothing.”

“Nothing
overt.”

“The
Cyne may yet come to believe in you, Lady.”

She
contemplated that for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, though perhaps not in this
life. You sent Osraed ... Eadmund.”

He
nodded, awed by her growing abilities.

She
would someday tell him that she knew him inside and out, heart and soul—but not
today. “I’ll touch him. They must hurry back to Halig-liath. Something is
moving at Mertuile.”

Catahn
frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that, Lady. Shall we arm more guards?”

In
answer she merely looked at him, humor tugging the corners of her mouth.

He
actually blushed. “Forgive me. I forget we have other defenses than bow and
sword.” He stood. “Osraed Ealad-hach wishes to see you. He’s outside.”

She
gave him a look of mock reproach. “You made him wait.”

Catahn
grinned. “He deserves to wait.” The Ren strode to the door and ushered the old
Osraed in. “Shall I stay, Lady?” he said, growling a little for Ealad-hach’s
benefit.

The
old man cowered and Taminy felt pity well in her throat. “No, leave us. It’s
all right. You wish to speak with me?” she asked Ealad-hach when they were
alone.

“I
wish to leave Halig-liath,” he said and refused, as always, to look at her
face.

“Are
you being mistreated here?”

“You
know I am not. I simply find my position here untenable. To all intents, the
Osraed Council no longer exists. Indeed, the Osraed Body no longer exists, as a
body. You’ve seen to that.”

“Destroying
the Osraed Institution was not my intention; I meant to renew its spirit.”

“You
have brought chaos to Caraid-land, Lady Taminy.” He made the words a curse.

“Don’t
call me that. ‘Cailin’ or ‘girl’ or even ‘Wicke’ would be more acceptable from
your lips.”

He
inclined his head. “As you wish, Wicke.”

She
flinched. Hatred would always wound her and she must always lay herself open to
it.

He
smiled a little, seeing that. “Pain, Wicke? It amazes me that anything I do
could hurt you.”

“Everything
you do hurts me, Osraed. I wish I could make you see me for what I am. I wish
you could believe.”

“If
you’re what you claim to be, then that should be well within your powers.”

She
smiled ruefully. “Within my powers, yes. Within my nature, no. The Meri did not
force young Ealad-hach into Halig-liath. He came here of his own free will. He
saw the Gwenwyvar in a dream, woke beside Her pool, and knew not how he’d
gotten there in the middle of a summer night. After that he was in love. So
very much in love that every breath he breathed and every word he spoke was of
the Eibhilin worlds. Halig-liath was heaven to him. And now, he wishes to leave
heaven.”

The
old man stared at her, trembling as if with palsy. “How do you-? Oh, wicked.
Wicked wonder to use that against me now, when I am so weak.”

She
stood and moved to stand before him, eye to eye. “Ealad-hach, who do you think
it was that called to you that night? Whose duan sang you from your room out
onto the hills, out into the woods, down to the Gwenwyvar’s pool?” She pressed
her fingertips to her breast. “It was I, your Beloved, who called to you. Why
do you not recognize me?”

His
trembling increased twofold and his eyes overflowed with tears. He went to his
knees before her, hands beseeching. “Please,” he sobbed. “Please, release me
from this prison.”

His
pain smote her like a blast from a blacksmith’s forge, nearly felling her. Dear
God, how horrible it was to be Ealad-hach, to be so torn and twisted that day
looked like night and night looked like chill hell. She gazed into his soul and
knew what he asked and knew what she must give him for his pain.

Spirit, forgive me for my presumption
.

Dropping
to her knees, she reached out and took the gnarled hands in her own. Wracked
with sobs, he could not resist, but merely gazed at her from teary eyes. “You
are released, Osraed Ealad-hach. And with Our blessing.” She lifted her left
hand to his forehead placing there, a tiny flower of light.

His
eyes widened and the sobs stopped in his throat. Something trembled on his
lips—words that rushed up from his heart of hearts to overwhelm him.

Yes, now you see.

A
quivering hand rose to her cheek and found a tear there. The old man smiled. “Beloved,”
he said and collapsed into her arms.

She
cradled him there for a time, only gradually becoming aware of Catahn’s
presence in the room. She looked up, tears still coursing down her cheeks.

Seeing
them, the Ren came to her side. “My Lady, what has happened?”

She
stroked the old man’s brittle hair. “The Osraed Ealad-hach is dead, Catahn. His
soul is in the arms of the Meri.”

oOo

“What
did the doctor say, lord?”

“What
else could he say? He said my health is failing.”

Daimhin
Feich came across the room and dared to sit on the edge of his Cyne’s couch,
facing the wasted man who lay there. “Then he will have medicines for you. You will
be tended night and day. I’ll handle these problems of state until you’re
recovered and-”

The
Cyne uttered a wheezing laugh. “Daimhin Feich—one man diplomatic corps.
Problems of state. My realm is crumbling, I will die heirless and you sum it up
as
problems of state
. Such an
optimist.”

“You
will not die. Let alone heirless.”

“Well,
I can’t father a child in this condition. Nor have I any desire to, even if any
sane woman would have me. I could adopt an heir, I suppose.”

“You’ll
need no adoption. We’ll get Airleas back. I promise. I’ve raised a force of
men. They ride in two hours.”

“Ride?
Ride where?”

“To
Halig-liath. At flank speed they may be able to catch the Cwen and Riagan
before they make the fortress, if not, we’ll take a larger force and lay siege.
I’ll go myself if I have to, but I will get Airleas back.”

“For
me. You’d do all that for me?”

“Anything.
Anything for you, sire.”

Tears
sprang to Colfre’s eyes. “Dear God, you are a loyal friend. The most loyal
friend a man could find.”

Daimhin
bowed his head deeply. “Thank you, lord. You do me honor.”

“No.
You do me honor by standing so close beside me through all this. Lesser men
would have deserted me. As did my Chancellor, half my Privy Council-”

“Don’t
think of it, sire. Think of getting Airleas back. The Malcuim line will
continue.”

Colfre
nodded. “You must be Regent. Toireasa is not to be trusted.”

Daimhin
flicked his eyes wide open—his mouth as well. “I, sire? Regent?” He ducked his
head again. “You drown me in honor.”

Colfre
was nodding more fiercely now. “Yes, call the Osraed Ladhar. He must witness
and counter-sign. I will make you Regent now. Immediately.”

Daimhin
lifted the Cyne’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “At once, sire.”

He
had to use the seaward cliff passage to leave Mertuile—the same passage Cwen
Goscelin had used in her heroic escape over a century before; the same passage
young Cyne Paeccs, son of Malcuim, had used to flee the Claeg and Feich, who
were attempting to overthrow the Malcuim line. Ironic, that. But he would enjoy
the irony later; now, he had to bring Ladhar to Mertuile.

He
did it in record time, though the cliff path was slippery with rheum, though
the boat, hidden in its tiny cove, was so long unused, the mooring line had to
be cut, though he was a poor oarsman. He resented the fact that, on the return
trip, the Abbod could not be imposed upon to row a lick.

They
were in the halls of Mertuile when he’d regained his breath enough to speak
steadily. “I will now tell you why you’ve been brought here.”

Ladhar
shot him an acerbic glance. “You told me Colfre was dying.”

“I
exaggerated. I needed you to come unquestioningly. He wishes appoint a Regent
to Airleas.”

“Airleas
is gone.”

“Yes,
but I’ve mounted a campaign to get him back.”

“Ah,
is that what that was all about? I was informed something was going on out at
Selbyr’s estate. It was a conscription.”

“It
was loyal volunteers rallying to the aid of their Cyne and country.”

“Yes,
well ...So, Colfre will appoint Regent to his Taminist brat. He is a Taminist,
you know. Toireasa sent over two formal self-worded testaments in which they
both denounced the ‘old order’ and embraced the ‘New Covenant.’”

“Poor
child.”

“Yes,
poor child. So he’s to be dragged back to Creiddylad and made to recant his
heathen ways, eh? Think it’ll take?”

“I
don’t know. It’s doubtful, I suppose.”

“So,
who’s to be Regent?”

“I
am.”

They
were outside the Cyne’s salon now. Ladhar stopped and lowered his voice. “You?
Rumor has it you were courting the Dark Sister.”

“I
was attempting to inveigle my way into her good graces, hoping, for Colfre’s
sake, it would make her more tractable.”

“Ah.
Failed miserably, didn’t you?”

Daimhin
bit back his sudden anger. “Yes, miserably. I am not a Taminist, if that’s what
you’re thinking. Frankly, I’d like to see the wretched creature tied to a log
and put out to Sea.”
But not before-time.

“Tied
to a tree and burned,” Ladhar said. “Burning leaves nothing to chance.” The old
Abbod cocked his head to one side. “Airleas would be a poor Cyne. Surely, he
might be persuaded to give up his dark faith, but there’s no guarantee he won’t
go back to it the moment the Circlet is on his head.”

“No
guarantee at all.”

“And
if Airleas won’t recant, and Colfre dies, then we’ve no Cyne at all. Colfre
should do more than appoint a Regent. He should appoint a Cyneric.”

Daimhin
frowned. “A Cyneric? Is that wise? Doesn’t that rather make both the Cyneric
and Airleas targets for foul play?”

“Not
if the Cyneric is someone we can all trust.” Ladhar tapped lightly on the Cyne’s
door and, receiving permission, preceded Daimhin into the room.

Ten
minutes later, Daimhin Feich was Regent to Airleas—to be Cyneric if Airleas
were to die or abdicate. A testament was signed by all three attending parties
and lackeys were sent to post the public bans.

Not,
Daimhin thought wryly, that anyone would care. Word had spread far and wide
that he was the man who had taken a crossbow and aimed it at Caraid-land’s new
Beloved. He would not be a popular figure, but he would at least be a powerful
one.

oOo

“Daimhin,
is that you?” Colfre turned from his writing and squinted into the darkness
beyond the glow of the lightbowl mounted on his desk.

“Yes,
sire.” Feich stepped into the half-light, raising his hand. Bits of fire
gleamed off the metal goblet in his hand. “I saw you were up late and brought
you some hot cider.” He smiled. “It’s so good to see you feeling better,
friend.”

Colfre
smiled in return. The very sight of Daimhin Feich filled him with gratitude.
Loyalty. There was no price you could put on that. The man should have been his
brother, so much alike were they. He held out his hand for the cup.

“Thank
you, Daimhin. I
am
feeling better.
You’ve handled this ‘problem of state’ very well.” He took a sip of the cider,
then set the cup on his desk. “Mm. Very good. I notice the rabble is gone. Did
we wear them out?”

“Some.
I had them barred from the Cyne’s Market. There will be no one but merchants
there in the morning.”

“Where
did you get the men to accomplish that? I thought you sent them all after my faithless
wife.”

“Feich
is a populous House, my lord. And one which commands great ... respect.”

Colfre
laughed. “Yes. Yes, it does. Especially from its enemies.”

Feich
bowed deeply. “It does me good to hear you laugh, sire. Even if my family’s
legendary treachery is the cause.”