The Dawn Stag: Book Two of the Dalriada Trilogy (73 page)

‘What does this mean?’ she whispered eventually.

‘It is Agricola’s way to force us into open battle,’ Eremon said slowly. ‘If we do not stand up to him, he is making it clear there will be nothing left and no quarter given, even to the innocent. He will not rest until it is done, and by all reports he has gathered an army more than double the size of anything unleashed on us before.’

Rhiann had begun to tremble. ‘And you now have your own army.’
Because of me. Because of the Sisters. I brought Eremon to this
.

Without an army of his own, Eremon could not possibly have chosen to fight such a force. They would have fled, whether he hated to do so or not. They could have gone into hiding. Yet that would never happen now, because the Sisters sacrificed themselves, and because Rhiann had taken their story into every dun across the land.

Rhiann rubbed her eyes with balled fists, as Eremon took her arm. ‘Rhiann, we will need more than just our own warriors. We must gather every man that can hold a spear, any weapon at all. Even the farmers, the herders, the fishermen must come with us.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘The Roman force is in Venicones lands, directly east,’ Eremon’s voice was bleak. ‘They cannot cross the mountains, so they are heading north, as they did before, yet more slowly because of the destruction they are wreaking. We need to gather our forces at Calgacus’s dun, then come down from the north and meet them.’ His hands moved up Rhiann’s arms, gently pulling her fists from her eyes. A kiss touched her forehead. Our parting has come sooner than I wished for,’ he whispered brokenly.

Rhiann gulped a deep breath and opened her eyes, groping for his hands. ‘No,
cariad
. There is no need for partings.’

‘What do you mean?’ Eremon’s frown descended over his face like a thundercloud.

Rhiann brought his hands to her lips. ‘I am coming with you.’

The cloud in Eremon’s face abruptly cut off all remaining light, and he reared back as if she had slapped him. ‘
No!
You and the child must be safe—’

‘You have just been telling me that nowhere is safe!’

‘Yet I will not invite that danger by flinging you in the path of a Roman army!’

Rhiann cupped Eremon’s cheeks with her hands. His jaw was like iron; his eyes even harder. ‘The safest place for me is with you, Eremon. Caitlin and I are coming with you and Conaire to Calgacus. Aldera and Bran and the druids will lead the women.’ Eremon swore, his teeth grinding as he tried to pull his face away, yet Rhiann summoned every shred of strength to hold him still. ‘I’m not letting you leave me behind.’

‘
You
seek to order me?’ Eremon gripped her hands and tore them from his skin. ‘I will remind you of who leads this warband.’

‘It is not a matter of leading, or authority!’

‘No? What is it, then?’ he cried. ‘Foolishness? Mule-headed female stubbornness?’

‘Eremon.’ Rhiann raised her chin with dignity, curling her palms about her elbows. ‘It is a matter of love,’ she said quietly. ‘We must face what will come, together. Triumph together, or die together. You know in your heart this is right.’

A muscle leaped in Eremon’s neck; his eyes narrowed with anguish. ‘Gods, Rhiann, of course I do not want to be parted from you! But how could I forgive myself if you were harmed?’

‘It will most likely come down to one battle; you told me so yourself. We will wait out of sight. If you are defeated, then there is no safe place for us in Alba anyway.’

‘That is not true!’ Eremon burst out. ‘You could run far into the mountains. Gods, what if you fell into Agricola’s hands?’

‘I’ve already told you, I won’t run!’ Rhiann held his hot, angry gaze with her own, unflinching. ‘No one has the right to tell another how to face their own death. And have you forgotten I am Ban Cré? Have you forgotten my dream, and how we lead the people
together
? Have you forgotten my duty to
them
?’

That hit home; Eremon’s eyes darted wildly around as if seeking some way out. Then to Rhiann’s surprise he gave a loud yelp of frustration and violently kicked the palisade with one muddy boot. From the force of the kick, everything he had heard that day had gone into it. The timbers shivered, and the guards further down the walkway glanced up, startled. Yet Eremon ignored them, turning his back on Rhiann and gripping the stakes again.

She gave him a few moments, until his ragged breathing slowed, and the blood rushed back into the white bones of his hands. Then Rhiann slipped her arms about his waist, curving into him as much as the baby would allow, her thighs against his. She could feel the trembling running through his body. ‘The time for being ruled by our heads is fast receding,
cariad
,’ she whispered. ‘The Goddess is love, and if we cling to love, She will help us to our path.’

Leaning up on her toes to peer over Eremon’s shoulder, Rhiann saw his eyes close, and another oath pass over his lips, silent this time. For a moment the battle in him surged along every nerve in her arms. Then at last quiet fell. Slowly he turned, his arms coming out to hold her, tucking her head under his chin. He smelled of horse sweat and drying mud.

‘Then I will cling to love,’ he muttered into her hair, ‘and perhaps your Goddess will look well on me when at last we meet.’

Rhiann craned back to look up at him, the tears drying across her cheeks. The sun sheened his eyes, so they appeared as clear as sea water. ‘When that time comes,
cariad
, we will take that path together, whatever it may be.’

CHAPTER 64

R
hiann fixed her eyes on the valley between Liath’s pale, twitching ears. The dip was deepened by the shadow of the gatetower above, which fell across half of the mare’s head, and half of Rhiann’s body. One of Rhiann’s arms was in sunshine; the other cold in the shadows. Perhaps it was easier this way, if she only saw what was around her as blocks of light and shadow, and did not allow them to form pictures. Then she wouldn’t really know she was leaving Dunadd until she was far away.

Yet she could sense the silence which had crept over the dun as houses were abandoned. Now that silence lurked by the gate, waiting for its possession to become complete.

Outside, though, everything was a bustle of jingling harness, snorting horses and shouted orders. Beyond the hundreds of milling riders, the plain was covered with the ranks of foot soldiers, and the sounds of their voices and impatient stamping and adjusting of armour and weapons was a faint roar.

And below all that ran something else that Rhiann could hear with her heart, and so less easily ignore: the soft murmur of women and children releasing their men and fathers to war, their hands reaching up to horses, the stumbled words that tried to gather years of love into one farewell, yet could never manage it.

Rhiann shifted uncomfortably in her padded saddle, glad that the sight she could bear least was being conducted in utter silence. For off to her right, Caitlin stood by Conaire’s knee as he bounced Gabran on his horse. The little boy was holding the reins in silence, bewildered, perhaps picking up from his parents that all was not well. Rhiann’s hand crept to the amber necklace at her throat. She was lucky that she was following her love, yet she too was leaving behind those with a claim on her heart.

‘Rhiann.’ Fola was breathless, pushing her way through the people to stand at Liath’s head. Some way behind her, Eithne was lingering with Rori in the shadow of the walls, their heads bent close even though Eithne had to strain to hold back Cù on his rope. ‘I have looked everywhere,’ Fola gasped out, ‘but I cannot find her. She was here to say goodbye to Caitlin …’ She spread her hands helplessly, and Rhiann swallowed hard, a knot of disappointment tightening in her belly. ‘I am sure she will come … perhaps she will try and see you alone.’

Rhiann nodded, knowing that Linnet hated to farewell her in public. She reached out to flick Fola’s braid from her shoulder. ‘I will return, you know. This is not the end.’

‘I know.’ Fola looked up at her, and her dark eyes were now calm. Over the past few days she had remained silent, but no longer seemed angry.

‘You do?’

‘Yes.’ Fola’s mouth lifted wryly, in the old way. ‘I never had the skill with seeing that you do, but three nights of fasting and little sleep gave me something in Declan’s pool, at last.’

‘You fasted for three nights, just to get a glimpse of my fate?’

‘You are not the only one who loves, Rhiann,’ Fola said softly.

‘That is true.’ Rhiann leaned forward to still Fola’s fingers on the bridle, for they were not as calm as the owner’s eyes. ‘But what did you see?’

Fola sighed, folding her arms in the sleeves of her dress. I saw you and I together again, with stars above our heads, and sand beneath our feet. That is all. So much hunger, for so little!’ She grinned. ‘Yet I am content with that, and will hold true while you are gone. I am sorry for being angry.’

‘I am sorry for making you so.’ Rhiann tried to continue, but was distracted by Caitlin’s sudden appearance. Her sister ducked under Liath’s neck, Gabran in her arms, as from somewhere in front of the mass of horses, a horn blew.

‘Here,’ Caitlin said, thrusting the squirming child at Fola, who sagged under his weight, mouth open. To Rhiann’s astonishment Caitlin then ducked away again, the side of her averted cheek bright red.

Fola raised her eyebrows, stroking the soft hair on the crown of Gabran’s head as the boy began to wail, wriggling to get down.

‘Here, my beautiful boy.’ Beckoning, Rhiann got Fola to hold Gabran up so she could kiss his sticky cheek, which did little to allay his distress. ‘May the Goddess watch over all of you,’ Rhiann murmured, giving Fola a hurried priestess kiss as Gabran broke into loud, hiccupping sobs. The restless throng of horses were all starting to flow in the same direction, and so Rhiann gave Liath her head at last and moved off.

She was nearly at the bridge over the river when there was a ripple in the ranks, and over her shoulder Rhiann glimpsed Caitlin’s golden head darting through the milling horses to sweep Gabran up and rain kisses down on his screwed-up face. Rhiann considered waiting for her, but soon spotted Conaire leading both their mounts back against the onwards stream of men and horses, and so she let her sister be.

By the time the leading ranks of the warband entered the lower reaches of the valley of ancestors, it streamed out far behind, with 500 cavalry arrayed in front, sides and rear of 2,000 foot warriors. In front of Rhiann rode Eremon, with Rori holding the Boar standard until Conaire caught up again, and next to him Lorn under the White Mare. Behind the foot soldiers the chariots of Lorn’s troop were being transported in the care of his clansmen.

It was as Rhiann passed the cluster of ancient stone uprights that marked the end of the tomb mounds, that she at last saw Linnet. ‘I must go to her,’ Rhiann said to Eremon, kicking Liath up beside him. His eyes shadowed by his boar helmet, Eremon glanced back to the long, wavering lines of men streaming in a haphazard order that bore little resemblance to Roman marches, despite his best efforts. It would take some time for them to clear the valley.

‘Catch up with us when you can,’ he said, briefly touching his fingers to Rhiann’s lips in a private kiss.

Rhiann urged Liath away from the men, splashing across a shallow stream to reach the turf around the stones. The monoliths were set in pairs, leaving an avenue that ran between them, and after Rhiann slid carefully onto a low stump nearby, Linnet drew her around the tallest upright, out of sight.

‘I said my farewells to Caitlin this morning … but had to speak to you alone,’ Linnet gasped out, holding her side as if she had been running. In the shadow of the stone, carved in ancient times with spirals and hollows, Linnet’s face seemed to glow with some Otherworldly light.

‘We have said all but farewell,’ Rhiann answered, her voice faltering.

Linnet laid her hand along her cheek. ‘Many times have I watched you leave, daughter. I even saw that you would be changed by your last journey to Calgacus.’

‘And you were right.’ Rhiann smiled shakily, laying her hand over Linnet’s. ‘Let us pray this journey is as fruitful.’

Yet Linnet’s eyes were looking past her, down the avenue of stones, staring at something beyond. ‘It is not only you who will be changed this time, child – the world will change.’

A chill crept up Rhiann’s arms beneath her sleeves. Have you seen who will triumph?’

‘I have seen … burning and swords. Many will die.’ Linnet’s voice was faint, and then she focused on Rhiann’s face again, as if memorizing her bones. ‘And there are words for you, that came in a dream.’

A sudden gust of wind soughed across the empty grasses, and it was as if Rhiann and Linnet stood in a world of their own. Rhiann barely heard the tramp of feet from the path behind. ‘Tell me,’ she whispered.

Linnet closed her eyes, opening her chest so that her words were carried on the wings of the priestess voice, vibrating with the wind. ‘On the mountain, it is acceptance you must find above all other things. As the journey is made clear, so let your heart fly free of what you wish to see, what you have seen, what you are seeing.’

Rhiann was silent for a moment. ‘I do not understand.’

‘Nor do I. Nevertheless, that is all I can give you, except something from my own heart.’ Suddenly, almost fiercely, Linnet took Rhiann’s face in both hands. ‘That I do not think this is our final parting, child of my heart.’

‘No.’ Rhiann fought back tears. ‘I do not think so, either.’ She glanced over her shoulder to the front ranks of men, who had long since disappeared into the higher reaches of the valley. ‘I must go now.’ Rhiann pulled Linnet to her in an embrace, and remounted.

Yet as she neared the stream, Rhiann wheeled the mare. ‘Aunt, I will call up a vision of that next meeting of ours, in Thisworld and no other, for the time being.’

Linnet smiled. ‘For the time being.’ She rested her palm flat on the sunlit shoulder of the largest stone, as if listening. Her priestess ring gleamed once and then was still.