Dawn Of Ireland: Captive Heart Part 13

I reached out to stroke his soft hair, and I knew my eyes betrayed my sadness. "I think not, Liam. He is lost to us. And I am sorry."

I thought that distance would be the cure for the ache left in my heart by his leaving. Distance, and time. I felt as grieved for his loss as I had when my old friend Andreas lay on the floor as though dead. No gruit, no curative, would ever heal the loss. I sighed. Someone-perhaps Brindl, perhaps my mother-had once told me that the loss of one often heralded the arrival of another. My heart was already full of love for Liam. And soon, I knew, I would somehow make room for one more. I rubbed my abdomen and smiled in spite of my inner sadness.

Can a heart be too full of love? I thought about Liam's words one night as we talked about the meaning of Christian love. "No wonder the heart of Jesus burst." I rose, throwing the stick into the heedless river, forcing thoughts of Murdoch from my mind.

I went back to our blanket, where Liam was sitting, waiting quietly for me, not wanting to interrupt my meditations along the river.

As soon as he and I emerged from the trees near our teach, we immediately saw my sleek palomino pony tethered next to the other horses. That meant two things. First, it meant that Murdoch had come back to his father's brugh in Inishowen, back from his booley, his search for the Isle of Captives. It also meant that Michael and Brigid were back, for they had promised to return my pony when they returned to Derry. We looked at each other with delighted grins and hurried to our door. No one was inside the house.

"A sign," said Liam.

"Yes. NimbleFoot is a signal fire," I said, thinking of his cousin Ryan's instruction in leaving one's sign in the smoke of a fire.

"Let us give them an hour or so to-to be alone," I told my husband. "Then we can take supper to them, the way we did once long ago on the sh.o.r.e of the Lough Neagh."

"I remember," he said, nuzzling my neck. "The day Michael came home with...bride to come."

I smiled inwardly, thinking about Liam's unintended play on the word "come," knowing that Michael and Brigid, like Liam and I, had held themselves for their wedding night.

"An' now," he said, drawing me close. "What about husband to come?"

Liam was getting altogether too practiced in my own language. I was still practicing "Is t mo ghr," I thought as I reached for his flaring signal fire.

Liam and I entered his kinsman's teach to much hugging and kissing. "We have brought supper," I told Brigid, and she and I went to the fire pit to unwrap and rub the salmon.

She eyed my leine, tied loosely around the waist. "You are-proceeding nicely." She smiled.

"Tell me about your journey," I said, noting how her eyes seemed to glow like sapphires and her mouth held a perpetual smile.

"Ah, Cay, the short of it is-my father is well, and Michael's old house is fine, too. The crumbling ruins at Inishowen are cleared away, the new brugh is begun, and Murdoch is back from his baile. What more can I say?"

"You scamp! You can slow down and tell me everything, bit by bit."

"After supper, a chara, I will tell you all about my trip and my father. But first, I need to tell you and Liam both about the booley-what Murdoch has found. That is most important to you, I think."

We rubbed generous amounts of garlic into the salmon and rewrapped it in damp river gra.s.ses. Brigid set it in the crumbling, blackened wood embers and I cut up carrots and onions for the cauldron. It took no time at all before the aroma of slow-cooked salmon pervaded the house, and we all sat at their large table.

Brigid lowered her head. "Father, we thank thee for our humble bread. But more, we thank thee for the chance to break it with our loved ones. We are thankful to be so blessed, held so lovingly in thy bosom, brought back to our home safely. Amen."

I was moved by her simple words. "Amen," I echoed, and I ate and listened to Michael and Brigid talk about the pleasant trip north, so different from the anxious trek almost a year ago to find the wounded hostage Liam.

When we were almost through eating, Brigid began by looking at me very hard, as though to impress me with her words. "Cay, Murdoch left on a quest. I think he found most of what he went to find." She put her small hand on my arm and reached over and touched Liam, too. "I think that much later he will tell you in his own words. For now, I want to tell you about the Isle of Captive Women."

My throat felt constricted and I stopped eating, leaning toward Brigid to hear her even better. "The land we speak of here was established by Michael and Liam's own uncle, Conall Gulban. So you will be entering territory owned by our own clans. The island is no doubt the one called 'King's Tower'-in Gaelic, Tr R-a place so surrounded by sharp, jutting rocks and dangerous ocean currents that no one dares approach it."

"I wonder, if it is so feared, how anyone could land there, and live there," I said.

"I think the captors of your mother are experts at handling the currachs, for only a currach could survive the swirling currents, and only in the hands of expert pilots and oarsmen. The local fishermen know of Tr R, or Tory, for that is how Murdoch learned about it. But even they steer clear of the island, so no one knows the lay of the land. Is it desolate or fair? Sheltered and lovely, or bare and deformed?"

It was Liam's turn to lean forward. "A Bhrid, tell us where it is...if ye can."

"I can take you there in words. But I cannot take you around the mountains, and the high cliffs, and over all the rocky strands you will need to cross to get there."

"Is it so far, then?" I asked, and my heart quailed at the prospect.

"Not so far," Michael said. "As the owl flies, perhaps only forty miles from Derry. Or maybe fifty. But the word is remote. It lies off the northern coast of eire, the part all crouched against the high winds off the Sea of eire. Murdoch tells us that the local people say not even flies can live there, for the wind never stops. That part of the coast, and the island, too, are beset by lightning storms unlike any we have experienced."

"A real paradise," I said drily. "No wonder these freebooters chose to hide there. Did Murdoch draw up a chart of some kind, Michael, so you could show us how to get there?"

"Aye, la.s.s, that he did. An' sure I will share it with the both of ye."

Bree and I cleared the trenchers off the table, and soon the four of us were poring over a chart that Murdoch had drawn on a slice of oak timber using a charred stick and then etching it into the wood with his knife.

"Ye see here, Liam and Cay, here is the Bay of Trawbreaga," and he pointed to an X on the chart, "and here be Derry." I saw right away that the distance between the two points was about thirty or forty miles, for we had traveled there less than a year ago. "Now, if we had wings instead of horses an' legs, we could get to Tory like this"-and he pointed to a spot due west of the bay, all overrun with inlets and rivers. In the area we understood to be the Sea of eire, there was marked another large X.

"An' sure without wings, I think ye need to travel this way." Michael showed how, if we began by traveling not north but south along the Foyle, we would find ourselves at the southern end of the Lough Sw.i.l.l.y and then we could travel north from there. "The alternative would be to cross the Sw.i.l.l.y itself," Michael continued. "Or even to travel there from the Bay of Trawbreaga. But do ye want to sustain a long march carrying several currachs? Instead, the logical answer is to curl around the Sw.i.l.l.y and then proceed north. That way ye can take horses an' needed supplies."

"Show me the island, and Lake Sw.i.l.l.y," I told him. I eyed the distance. "Yes, about four days either walking or riding. Is it so hard then, Michael and Bree?"

"Yes, dear," said Bree, "because this area here"-she pointed to the large area between the lake and the ocean itself-"this area of the Cenel Conaill, or Tyrconnell, is very rugged. You will have to skirt those mountains, so the walk may be a day's walk longer than it looks."

Michael added, "An' once ye get to the coast, ye must find a way to get to Tory, nine or ten miles from land. I think ye may buy currachs from the fishermen, if ye can offer them something valuable in return. Murdoch says to look for the pig-backed mountain and find a clear path to the sh.o.r.e when ye see it."

I drew myself up as far as my shoulders would allow and looked Michael in the eye. "Tell me the truth, my friend. Can we do it?"

Michael looked at me, then at Liam, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I say ye can get there easily enough. If ye can find a way to land on the island, and then find a way to take care of the women, then ye can do it."

"B'fheidir," said Liam. "Maybe. Me favorite word. We can try."

We settled back on benches, and I tried to listen with patience to Brigid's tales of her father and Michael's talk of Owen's new brugh. But the visions of our trip were already spinning and tumbling in my mind. I could hardly wait to visit the twins to talk about caring for the rescued women, and I was burning to discuss the details with Brindl and Thom. I thought to myself that "maybe" was not even a consideration. We would do it. We would gather our forces, starting tomorrow, and travel again like pilgrims into the unknown.

Chapter 17:.

The Road to Salvation It was getting harder to awaken an hour before dawn. I felt my body changing almost daily, and none of the changes were welcome. The larger b.r.e.a.s.t.s that I had wanted after I met Liam were afflicted by constant aching and tenderness. My entire body looked more every day like a winter squash-or, as Liam had teased me, like a pear. I had thought once that I would welcome a huge tummy for my mischievous Cuileann to play in, but already I had reached a size that was beginning to alarm me. And my back felt as though a stone were pressing on me.

I wanted to share my pains with Liam, but I held back. I knew that if he found out how uncomfortable I was, he probably would not want me to travel at all, much less allow me to jump from a currach wielding my long knife. And so I held back my small groans of discomfort, and I tried not to cringe away from his playful mouth as he explored my new round body.

That morning after our visit with Michael and Brigid, I tried to slip out of bed without waking Liam. Yet it was not so easy any more to "slip" or to make any stealthy move at all. I was rolling to the far side of the bed when his warm hand clasped my shoulder. "A Chit, maidin maith."

"Good morning, my love. I need to, ah, relieve myself."

I felt a bit guilty, but I was longing to sip a cup of comfort tea, both for my painful b.r.e.a.s.t.s and for my queasy stomach. I turned and kissed him sweetly, trying to keep from awakening his restive bata. It was no use, for as soon as my mouth touched his, I felt it rise against my stomach.

"Come back when ye finish," he said, and I put on my brgas and went outside. The area we used for sanitation purposes was in a copse of trees three hundred feet from the house, and I took my time returning.

Once back inside, I stirred the dying wood and refreshed it, putting a cauldron of water over the flames for tea. I felt him behind me, and when he bent to kiss the back of my neck, I could not help a spasm of pleasure. He spoke into my neck. "Stay there," he said in his husky way, and I stood, my feet apart a little, letting his hardness rub against my b.u.t.t. When he put his hands over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, he did it so gently that I relaxed back into him, letting his warmth ease the pain in my back.

"Oh, Cat, stand right there," he said. Then his mouth was on my b.u.m, and his fingers were stroking my groin at the same time. Yes, Liam certainly knew how to win my approval, and I spread my legs even wider. When he entered me, I cried out from the shock of the penetration, but again he held my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and pulled me toward him. And then he was thrusting and moving and moaning my name so that I could not help but give in to his urgency.

When it was over, I turned to him. "So slow, so gradual, my love. Before the water even came to a boil."

He looked a bit abashed at my dry tone, and I laughed. "We will take our time later, a mo str." I stood on the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek. I knew that if I had stayed in bed, he would have taken more care and more time.

I poured a bit of my own gruit into a cup and poured the hot water over it. "Now, though, I need to visit Brindl. You may see me at the bally trench this morning, for I am sure we will need to talk with Thom right away."

"An' what of the twin ladies?" he asked.

"First Brindl and Thom. Then Quince and Persimmon. Today I shall be busy."

"An' have ye talked to Jericho?"

"Well, yes, a month ago. You are right. He still knows nothing of the trip, and I am certain we will need him. I will talk to him today, or early tomorrow."

We both sat naked at the table eating a hasty porridge. "Cat, how many d'ye think will go on the trip?"

"So far, I think a score, or perhaps twenty-five people. I wish we knew more about what lies in store for us on that island."

"B'fheidir...there is a way to know," he said, his eyes bright.

"Whatever do you mean, Liam?"

"I will tell ye later, Cat, when ye visit the trench today."

Today's bath was a short one, like our lovemaking, for the crisp, cold water made my body ache even more. I longed for the feel of a Roman hot pool, and I made a mental note to speak with Jay Feather and Magpie before I left. A steaming bath would cheer me considerably-the sooner, the better. Michael had told me the baths could be started any time without interrupting the other work. "Tomorrow," I told myself dreamily, and I slipped on a plain, white wool leine with trailing green sleeves and tied it loosely around my ample waist.

Even though I did not ask him, Liam saddled Clona for me. He kissed me, lingering a bit with his tongue inside my mouth, and then he picked me up and put me on her back. "I will make ye a special ladder," he told me. "In time for our trip."

"I love you, dear Liam. Sln for now."

Liam had already saddled the stallion Fintan, and I could tell by the way he talked to him and stroked him that he was taken with Murdoch's horse, even though he pretended otherwise. I turned Clona toward Brindl's house, and soon we were cantering upriver along a well-worn horse path.

Every so often I saw a bullock cart or ox wagon rumbling along, but most often travelers in Derry were either on foot or on horseback. The morning was still cool, the intensely blue sky almost barren of clouds. As always, I drank in the beauty of our little bally and wondered at its gradual growth. Soon I thought, we could call our settlement a tath, a gathering of three thousand or more residents, almost a small kingdom. Even though we were not members of the same family, still most of us were kindred spirits.

When I rode up to Brindl's house, I was surprised that she was not outdoors practicing some martial drill. I dismounted rather awkwardly and knocked on her door. Brindl answered at once, dressed also in a plain leine, her hair demurely braided back. "Cay! I was hoping I would see you today, or tomorrow at the latest! Come in, come in and drink tea with me."

We hugged each other, and she bade me sit on a high-backed bench. "Before you say anything, Caylith, I have some happy news for you. Thom and I are expecting our first child."

"Oh! Brindie! That is wonderful news! When is your baby due?"

"Um, November, we think. Right about the time of the Samhain, the great winter festival."

"And I have news for you, dear one. I, too, am heavy with child. She will be born about the same time as your own, probably a few weeks before."

"Caylith, I guessed it. But I wanted you to tell me yourself."

I sighed heavily. "I can no longer hide it, dear friend. I am round as a melon."

"Nonsense! You look beautiful."

"And you do, too, darling Brindie. Honestly, I have never seen you look so-serene. So quietly happy. Perhaps this is not the best time for an adventure, what do you think?"

She shook her head fiercely. "There is no better time! Even if it is not well timed for me, Thom needs this trip very badly. It is almost a-a quest for his own manhood, a kind of proving to himself that he is a warrior. We must go."

"I would think a pregnant wife would be proof enough of his manhood! Very well, Brin. But I fear that we may take some teasing from Liam and perhaps a few of our other friends."

Brindl clearly was trying not to rush me. She brought our tea and we sat sipping it a while. At last she said, almost casually, "Tell me, Cay. Do you have news yet about the island?"

"That is why I am here today."

I told her what I knew of the island-how far it was, the difficulty of landing on its sh.o.r.es, the mountainous terrain and the rugged strands that we would encounter on our way there. "The most dangerous part of the trip is not the cras.h.i.+ng currents, nor even the jagged rocks, Brindl. The peril is that we know not our enemies. Who are they? What kind of warrior training do they have? How many are they?"

Brindl sat with her chin in her hands for a while, silent with me.

"And," she said after a while, "we know not how many women we need to rescue. And what condition they are in. Can they even walk? Must they be carried?"

"Oh, Brindie, we are going into the unknown like an army of blind men. Our numbers, our training-none of that matters if we do not know our opponent."

"But, Caylith, there is a sure way to know."

I was a bit irritated. "Liam told me that also. But he refused to tell me. I guess he wants me to reason it out for myself."

"The answer is easy, Cay. Think back to our campaign in Woodcamp, for example. How did we know how many of the duke's men were there? And how they were deployed?"

"We...used small groups of spy squads. Oh, of course! We simply need a spy-a very good spy."

"We need Thom, you mean," Brindl said, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"I would never send Thom on such a perilous mission, Brin. That island could be teeming with armed men the size of the very boulders they live on. And if he is chased on an island-there is no place to run."

"Why do we not ask the spy master himself?" she asked.

And so we did.

It was no later than midmorning when we rode up to the bally trench. Right away, I saw Liam working, fitting smooth river stones into the trench. And Thom was working alongside him. By the time Brin and I dismounted, our husbands were already standing at our horses.

Liam kissed me and took Clona's reins. He led her to a spot some twenty feet away to tether her, and Thom did the same with Brindl's mare. Soon we were sitting on the soft ground under the bashful shade of a young oak, and Brindl was explaining to Thom the kind of advance work she thought they needed. But I noticed that she did not mention his name.

"...need someone who can penetrate the island, unknown to the brutes, and take the lay of the land."

"And of course you thought of-" Thom prompted, his dark eyes intense.