Challenge of the clans (8 page)

"No, Bodhmall!" protested a stunned Liath. "You can't send him away like this!"

"There's little choice," the gaunt woman snapped. "I have seen the sons of Morna. Demna's journey outside the glens has led them to him. They are searching Slieve Bladhma now."

Liath knew there could be no argument with this. "My poor Finn!" she cried in anguish. Her head dropped forward and she began to sob brokenly.

Finn went quickly to her, kneeling beside her and hugging her close. Then her grief brought home to him the full meaning of what was occurring. He looked up at the sober-faced Bodhmall.

"But what about you?" he asked. "How can I leave you?"

"There is nothing else that you can do," Bodhmall told him firmly. "With you gone, we are just two harmless old women Hving alone. We will be safe."

Finn knew fi-om long experience that when Bodhmall had made her decision, there was no shifting her.

"All right," he agreed reluctantly. "But leaving you will be the hardest thing I have ever done. I've been with you all my life. I don't know what I'll do without you."

"Yes, you do!" she answered fiercely. "Everything I have taught you was to this end. I've forged and hammered you into a sword of iron. Now you must

hone its blade to a killing edge! Now make ready to go, and quickly. There's little time."

Swiftly he changed into the clothes Bodhmall had given him. He belted a sheath about his waist and slipped the old knife into it. Liath and Bodhmall gathered food and filled a leather bag. Finn slung this over his shoulder and took up his two hunting spears.

"I'm ready," he said.

"The hunt is coming fi*om the north," Bodhmall told him. 'Go toward the west. Go as far fi-om here as you can. Hurr\^ now! They must be nearly to the glen!"

He went to the doorway and paused there, looking back a last time at them. In the gesture both women were reminded of his mother making her last good-bye to her son so long before.

"I will miss you," he said in a voice hoarse with emotion.

Liath began to sob again.

"Be quiet, woman!" Bodhmall told her impatiently, then turned a stern face to Finn. "And you, son of Cumhal, just remember—it is your life you'll fight for now. To save it, you must earn your father's place and restore the honor of the Baiscne clan. Now run, before it is too late to escape!"

He hesitated no longer. Lifting the spears across his shoulder, he plunged out into the storm.

He started away fi-om the hut at a trot, heading toward the west. Bodhmall and Liath stood in the doorway, watching until his figure was swallowed by the rain and darkness. They did not know that as soon as he entered the woods edging the glen, he turned and started north, moving through the trees with all the speed he could.

Once more he was going to disobey Bodhmall. He would not run away and leave the two who had raised him, the only people in the world he loved, to face the terrible Moma clan alone. The assurances of Bodhmall were not enough. Surely men as ruthless as the killers of his father would not leave the women unharmed. He had to lead them away fi-om the lonely hut.

Once north of the glen, he slowed down, moving

cautiously through the underbrush, all his forest-trained senses alert for any sign of the warriors coming toward him. Then, in a flicker of lightning, he caught the sheen of light on the wet body of a horse. And, after the rumble of thunder had died, above the roar and rattle of the hard rain through the trees, he heard the sharp clatter of arms.

He stopped, standing motionless against a tree, knowing that in such conditions it was movement that was most visible. His eyes scanned the woods ahead as he w^aited for the next hghtning stroke. When it came, it revealed a line of figures forcing their way toward him through the underbrush.

They were not far away now, and he waited patiently, not stirring, as they closed. Finally a trio of warriors, leading the straggling band, was right before him. He jumped out of the tree's shadow and landed a spear's length fi-om their noses.

The sudden appearance of the figure startled the men. They recoiled, staring at him, forgetting even to move for their weapons. As they hesitated, he charged forward, pushing right into them, shouldering them aside and passing through, heading back the way they had come.

His movement brought the warriors to life. They seized their weapons and wheeled to follow, shouting out the alarm to their fellows: "He's here! It's the boy! Stop him!"

Finn had already darted into the scattered main body of warriors. He dodged around men who stopped in astonishment as this spectral shadow whisked by. More cries of warning were raised. Warriors turned back to pursue and collided with their fellows in the darkness. A tangle ensued, growing as more men, hearing the cries, sought their source.

Finn was soon through the main body of men. He glanced back to see if any were close behind, then looked ahead just as a massive form loomed up almost on top of him.

A warrior was pushing his mount forward at a risky pace toward the milUng company. Finn had no time to

dive from its path. Instead he raised his hands and gave a piercing hoot.

To the horse it was as if some monstrous being had erupted from the ground before it. It reared back in terror. The unprepared rider was thrown off, thudding to the soggy earth.

The horse plunged wildly. Finn ducked its flying hooves and then dodged around it. But the rider recovered with a speed that surprised the young man, leaping up directly in his path.

A long, ragged bolt of lightning crackled across the sky. For an instant its light sharply illuminated the scene. Finn found himself looking into a face whose left eye was covered by a great patch. Goll MacMoma stared back in surprise at the blond-haired youth as he realized who he faced.

The light flickered out as both men began to move. Goll's hand dove for his sword, but Finn was quicker. He swung his two spears around in a hard, sideways swipe that caught the Fian chieftain in the side of his neck. The force of the blow knocked him from his feet. He crashed to the earth again.

Other warriors, finally untangled from the mass, were coming toward them now. Finn left the downed man and sprinted away again. But he made no attempt to outdistance or lose his pursuers, either of which he could quite easily have done. Instead he now played the fox to their hunt, teasing them with brief glimpses of him to keep them following.

He led them far to the north, keeping them moving at a punishing pace. Finally, when he felt sure that the cottage was a safe distance behind, he left them, slipping easily away and turning toward the west. The warriors of MacMorna struggled on for some way before they realized that their quarry was no longer before them. They stumbled to a halt in the dripping woods, a bedraggled, angry, and exhausted company.

Book Two

A RGHTING MAN OF IRELAND

Chapter Eight

THE LITTLE NOT

Finn saw nothing more of the warriors of the Morna elan as he moved through the glens and woods of Slieve Bladhma. By dawn he was emerging safely from the last trees into the open countryside to the west.

The rain had ended, leaving the dawn sky striped with long banners of clouds. Before him the wide meadows of Ireland unfolded like spring leaves, bright and sparkling. He paused there to gaze out thoughtfully.

It was his friture lying before him, he realized. He had not had time to consider it before, and he faced it now with a mixture of feelings. There was regret, certainly, over leaving Bodhmall and Liath and the glens of his childhood. Yet there'd been no choice in this. It was time for him to do what all his life he had been told he must do, and he was fiercely determined not to fail Bodhmall or his clan.

Without delaying further, he set out, striding boldly from the sheltering vastness of Slieve Bladhma into the strange lands. He did not look back.

At first he was a bit unsettled by the vast spaces. In the glens, he had always known a sense of being securely enclosed. Here, with nothing around but the smooth flow of hills, he felt exposed, like a hare out of cover. But this sensation faded quickly and he realized that, for all the unknowns and dangers that might lie ahead, he felt exuberant, reveling in his new sense of freedom. Very soon he was svdnging energetically along,

humming a light air Liath had tau^t him as he took in the new scene.

In a short while he came upon a faint dirt track. It ran to the west, so he began to follow it, staying on the grassy verge to avoid its rain-filled ruts. Bodhmall had told him to go west far fi-om Sheve Bladhma, and this was his first concern.

After half a day of traveling, any concern that the sons of Moma mi^t be tracking him had gone. There had been no sign of anyone following on the road. In fact, there had been no sign of human life at all. This brought to mind a new concern for him. He must start to OOTisider bow he was to fulfill his quest for vengeance.

There was a fair amount of uncertainty in him about that. The first step in his quest, of course, was to learn a >\^arrior's skills. Before he could hof>e to join the Fianna or even survive in the violent w^orld Bodhmall had described to him he must know how to fight well. He had to find a place where he could acquire the proper training secure fi-om discovery by the Moma clan.

This task might be a diflBcult one. Bodhmall's own adMce in this area was sketchy at best, esp>ecially after sixteen years of isolation in the glens. And his own lack of experience with the world and its people would be against him. Still, he had been raised to be optimistic in outlook. Courage, strength, and wts could solve any problem, Bodhmall had always said.

The road was just passing by the tail of a tiny wood. The sky had cleared by now, and the sun through the rain-w^ashed air gave a warm, hard light. The trees swayed gend> in a fight breeze, waving him into their cool shade. He decided to accept their invitation, eat a Int (rfhis food, and think his problem over more careftiDy.

Beyond the outer fringe of trees, he came upon a small brook gurgling musi(^ly along its rocky channel. He dropped his spears, knelt down, and drank of the dean, chill waters fix>m his cupped hands.

And then he froze, letting the water trickle through his fingers unheeded as he listened, all senses alert, body tensed to move.

A high, sweet musical sound was drifting, Hke the dust in the slanting beams of sunlight, in the air. It was not the brook or the birds or the leaves' faint rustling. It was a different sound, pleasant, but like none Finn had ever heard before. And he knew that anything unknown might be dangerous as well.

His hand crept to the spears. Once he had gripped them, he rose quickly, searching the foliage about him with his eyes. There was nothing close by.

He began to trace the sound, following it along the stream's bank, deeper into the wood. It was a melody, he decided, a definite tune with a repeated refi-ain, like the songs that Liath had taught him.

He came into a small clearing, stooping slightly to pass beneath a thick branch. It thrust out, like a giant's sinewy arm, fi-om an enormous oak whose upper branches formed a canopy over the open space. Just beyond the tree he stopped to peer quizzically about. Suddenly he had lost the sound.

He stood motionless, not breathing, listening carefully. But it had stopped. He looked about him, trying to place its possible source. Then he jumped as a voice spoke fi-om right above him.

"Hello there, lad!"

Finn wheeled about, raising a spear to strike. His gaze lifted to the branch he had just passed. Stretched out comfortably upon it, head propped upon a bag, legs crossed, lay a man.

From beneath a red cap pulled low upon his forehead, a pair of green eyes gfinted merrily at Finn. He held a long, slender tube of wood in both hands, one end resting against the tip of a pointed chin. His manner was relaxed, showing no alarm at Finn's threatening posture.

"Where did you spring fi-om?'' Finn demanded. He was certain the man had not been on that limb when he passed beneath it.

"A father and mother, same as yourself, I would suppose," the man replied in a carefree tone, his small mouth stretching in a remarkably wide grin.

Though the smile and the voice were friendly, Finn remained on his guard. "Who are you?" he asked.

"It's Gnu Deireoil they call me—the Little Nut," he said, adding with a laugh, "though where I came to have such a name, I surely don*t know."

With that statement he swung his legs about and dropped down from the tree in front of Finn. The young man realized that this Gnu was indeed little. His head came up only to the level of Finn's chest. In figure he was like a boy of ten, and with a boy's agility as well.

Finn lowered his spear. The pleasant aura of the man had convinced him that there was nothing to fear. He found himself smiling in return.

"That's much better," Gnu Deireoil told him. "Now tell me, who are you?"

"I'm Finn," he replied, reminding himself again that he must not reveal his identity to anyone.

"Finn, is it?" the little man said. He ran a scrutinizing eye over the lad, taking in his dress, his spears, and the bulging bag at his hip. "And doing a bit of traveling, I'd guess. Where are you bound?"

Though Finn felt he could trust the little man, he hesitated. The last time he had trusted, he had been betrayed. He had to be cautious.

"I'm heading to the west" was all he said.

"Ah, the west?" Gnu responded brightly. "That's the very way I was going myself! Would you be willing for me to keep company with you, lad? It's wild and lonely country we're heading into."

Finn's impulse was to say that he wanted no company. But the little man seemed harmless, amiable, and anxious for companionship. And, to be honest with himself, he was in need of comrades, too, right now.

"All right," he agreed. "But I was just going to rest for a bit and have some food. You wouldn't mind waiting?"

"Go right ahead, lad," he said. "You that are still growing need your nourishment. "

Finn sat down against the trunk of the oak and opened his bag. Gnu dropped down nearby and sat, cross-legged, watching him as he pulled bread, dried