The Sword and the Song (32 page)

“Sir?” Iomhar stood watch with another man opposite Aine’s door. He looked to Eoghan, waiting for orders.

“Make sure she doesn’t leave. No one but me, Riordan, or Caemgen.”

“Aye, sir.” Iomhar nodded as Riordan and the healer exited the room. Riordan and Eoghan moved down the corridor and descended the steps to the first floor.

“What now?” Riordan asked. “It feels like the calm before the storm.”

Eoghan felt that sense of expectancy as well, but Comdiu was being silent on the matter. He took that to mean they had done all they could do. The returning Fíréin had not yet attempted to fight through Niall’s ranks, lacking the numbers for victory, but it was only a matter of time. He found himself going to Liam’s balcony, the one Aine had used, hoping the fresh air would clear his head.

Below, everything looked as it should in the late evening. Calm, orderly. Torches burning.

Yet Eoghan felt the vague sense that something was amiss. As a cool wind stirred up, he shivered.

You didn’t really think you could command the city, did you? Look at you. You don’t even know what to do next.

Fear slammed into him, making him gasp aloud.

“I feel it too,” Riordan murmured. “I just don’t understand how it’s possible.”

“The sidhe?”

“I expect so. But they’ve never encroached on Ard Dhaimhin before.”

“They never had a reason to.” A growing dread took Eoghan, and this time he recognized it as his own feelings, not the sidhe’s influence. There were men on the borders to keep them in . . . why was that, exactly?

A distant scream broke the silence just as a man burst onto the balcony
 
—one of the sentries, Casidhe. “There’s fighting on the south side of the city, sir.”

He snapped to attention. “Who’s on the attack? The kingdom men?”

Casidhe shook his head. “No, sir. It’s Keondric’s army. They’ve somehow breached the wards.”

Aine lay in her chamber,
her stomach knotting, anxiety rising in her chest. Surely she had no reason to feel this way. She couldn’t even be picking up on someone else’s emotions, considering the shield rune that marked her skin.

Or maybe that was the reason for those feelings. Without the voices of countless others in her head, she felt as though she were the last person on earth, her world shrinking to the expanse of one room. Even when she’d blocked out the other voices, she’d still had the impression of the others around her, vague echoes of thoughts and movement. That was all gone.

Yet she had the distinct feeling that something was wrong.

Despite the strict orders that she stay in bed, Aine pushed herself to a sitting position and swung her feet over the side. She tested her sense of balance, pleased to find she was no longer dizzy. The porridge sent up to her had done much to restore her energy, even though she still felt desperately thirsty.

“Stay with me, little one,” she murmured, rubbing her stomach.

Her heart beat a little too fast as she made her way unsteadily to the water-filled basin and took up the rag lying beside it.
Comdiu, protect me
, she murmured, a fervent prayer just before she swiped the cloth across the inked rune.

Voices rushed in, nearly knocking her to her knees before she slammed down the protections on her mind. Even so, it felt like holding a door closed against twenty men trying to batter it down. Her thoughts grew fuzzy around the edges.

Breathe. You can do this. You’re just out of practice because you’ve had the rune for two days.

Gradually, she built her resistance against the voices, imagining herself strengthening her barrier against them like building a wall brick by brick, until she heard the others as a pleasant, distant hum.

And with that distance, she could make out whispers and echoes of what was happening beyond.

They were terrified.

Aine rushed to the window and peered out. It still looked peaceful in the twilight, nothing to indicate trouble. Until she felt them herself.

The sidhe.

Cold rippled across her skin, and her knees turned to water. She managed to make it onto the bed before she collapsed and dropped her head between her knees. Despite all the wards, they were here. And from what she sensed, there were a lot of them.

This wasn’t just a coincidence. This was an attack.

Her heart rose into her throat. Conor. He needed to know what was happening at Ard Dhaimhin. He might be walking into a trap. She reached for his mind out of reflex before realizing he must still be shielded.

She scanned for the other men in his party. Keallach’s mind burned brightest. He was a young, quiet brother who’d helped her with settling some of the refugees during her early days at Ard Dhaimhin. She touched his mind as gently as possible.

Keallach.

There was no mistaking the fright in his thoughts. Even though they’d planned for this contingency, it still must be a shock to one unused to her communications.

It’s Lady Aine. I need to speak with my husband. He needs to mar his rune.

After a long pause, Keallach came back.
Aye, my lady. I will tell him.

Aine let out a deep breath of relief. Thank Comdiu Conor was still alive and the only distress she sensed was from her popping into the young brother’s thoughts unannounced. She focused her attention on the place where she had found Keallach until she recognized the bright flare of Conor’s thoughts.

Joy flooded her at the first sound of his voice.
I’m here, Aine.

They left their horses a full two miles away from Loch Eirich and continued toward the old crannog fortress on foot. The clumpy stands of trees that surrounded the lake were beginning to change to colors of brown and orange and red beneath a now-constant covering of hoarfrost. That posed a challenge for two reasons: one, the sparse foliage left them less cover than they might have had earlier in the year; and two, the fallen leaves underfoot made it nearly impossible to travel silently.

Still, Conor counted on his party’s stealth, even if their care did mean that their progress slowed to a crawl. Their breath puffed out around them, telltale signs of their passage even when they blended in with the sparse foliage around them. It seemed that fall had passed immediately into winter in the northern reaches of Seare, if this misty evening with its rapidly falling temperature were any indication.

And then the forest began to thin, not on the edge of the lake
as all the maps showed but a full quarter mile from the water. The churned brown earth and piles of logs suggested that it had been cleared recently.

“That’s not something one does to protect an old rune stone,” Ailill observed near Conor’s ear as they surveyed the land before them.

“No, I don’t think so either.” He remained crouched in the evergreen underbrush, watching for the motions of guards on the crannog or sentries on the perimeter of the shore. After several minutes, everything remained as still and quiet as death. Clearly, the druid’s men had been here, and they’d increased the defensibility of the island, never mind the fact that it never had lent itself to an easy siege. So why go to the trouble if they weren’t going to station men there?

“We’ll check the perimeter and wait until dark before making our move,” Conor whispered. “Just because it looks deserted doesn’t mean it is.”

They backed away from the forest’s edge and split to circle the lake in opposite directions. Conor kept his eyes peeled for any indication of human presence: tracks in the forest, animal sounds, metal glinting in the light that seeped through the overcast sky. It wasn’t until he noticed that he and his group were shivering that he realized he should have been watching out for signs of inhuman presence as well.

“Steady, men,” he whispered. “This cold isn’t entirely natural.”

Sure enough, as dark fell, the mist thickened. Was that evidence of the sidhe gathering? Why now?

When they met up with the other half of the party, Ailill confirmed his thinking. “The dread is strong here. Even I feel it, and I like nothing better than besieging an unbreachable fortress in the freezing cold.”

Conor grinned at the man’s wry tone. The sidhe were indeed
here, but it didn’t appear that any soldiers were. As he gathered the men in a circle to discuss their options, Keallach leapt backward away from the group.

Hands immediately went to weapons, eyes scanning their surroundings.

“Sorry, sorry,” Keallach muttered. “You might tell your wife not to scare the daylights from me if she wants to talk to you.”

Conor looked quizzically at the young man, who just tapped his forehead with two fingers. “Lady Aine just took five years off my life.”

The group grinned at him, but Conor’s stomach lurched. He’d shut her out for weeks. If it hadn’t been for his men’s nearly abandoning him two days ago, he wouldn’t even have known she’d figured out how to use the sword. Every one of them had heard her call, but this was the first time she’d ever used them to contact him. That meant something dire. He smeared the ink from the rune and opened his mind.
I’m here, Aine. What’s wrong?

Thank Comdiu, Conor. Where are you?

We just arrived at Dún Eavan. Why?

Ard Dhaimhin is under siege. Or it’s about to be. We were attacked from within, and Niall has moved ensorcelled men around the perimeter of the forests. The sidhe are here.

He followed her thinking immediately.
You think it’s somehow related to our attack on Dún Eavan?

I don’t know, Conor, but it seems terribly coincidental that it’s happening now. Why attack us at the very moment you’ve arrived there?

She was right, it was coincidental, and the druid rarely did things out of anything but deliberate planning.
Aine, when you were here at Dún Eavan, do you remember any large stone? Something that could be a rune stone?

I don’t remember seeing anything like that. But I wasn’t looking for it either.

That’s what I was afraid of. The sidhe are here as well.

A long pause.
The sidhe have always been present at Dún Eavan.

But they generally avoid the runes.

Aye. Unless there’s a greater source of power there.

It was exactly what he had been thinking, except they had seen no sign of humans. So why would the sidhe congregate in a place that had a rune stone but no humans on which to feed?

Unless, like at Ard Bealach, they were guarding something.

I need to go, Aine.

Please, Conor, don’t block me out.

I’m going to be entering a fortress that is thick with spirits. I need to replace the rune.

And how are you going to cross?

He’d been wondering about that himself. The only way to reach the crannog stealthily was to swim, which would almost immediately mar the ink. He would have to rely on the power of the rune charm, despite the fact it had only limited power against the sidhe. It might prevent them from seizing him completely but wouldn’t stop them from communicating with him. As he well knew, the sidhe could be convincing.

Let me stay with you, Conor. Together we can be sure you are able to resist their lies.

He looked out onto the crannog, only then becoming aware of the men staring at him. He glanced down at his shaking hands. Whether it was the sidhe’s influence or his own fear, he hoped they would dismiss it as cold instead of cowardice.

Aine, is someone with you?

Iomhar. He’ll make sure I don’t get pulled in too deep.

Conor realized then that if the rune charm failed, if the sidhe attacked him, he didn’t want to face it alone.

Please, Conor. All you’ve ever done is protect me. Let me help protect you for once.

That made his decision for him.
Aye. But not yet. I’ll let you know when we’re going to enter. We need to stay free of their influence for as long as we can.

I love you, Conor.

Those four words warmed him against the unnatural chill better than any other reassurance could.
I love you, too, Aine. Always.

“Sir, you can’t go down there.”

Eoghan ignored Gradaigh as he checked his sword and shouldered his spear. The reports coming in from sentries and céad leaders were nearly unbelievable: thousands of men pouring across Ard Dhaimhin’s borders, far more men than they’d thought Niall had at his disposal. If the Fíréin were breaking rank like untrained novices, Eoghan had to see this threat for himself.

“Where’s Riordan?” he asked.

“Here.” The man appeared at the door, his sword on his back and a bow in hand. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I must. I have to see for myself, rally our men. Just keep any archers within range from picking us off on the stairs.”

“Aye, sir.”

Comdiu protect us.
He strode toward the hall’s main entrance and drew his sword. Shouts, screams, all the sounds of battle met him as he stepped onto the balcony and looked down through the arrow slits. Men fought in clusters below, mere hundreds scattered across the expanse of Ard Dhaimhin. Where was this army? Eoghan exchanged a confused look with Riordan and started down the steps.