S Farrell - Holder of Lightning

A Mac Ard once held Lamh Shabhala. . Jenna barely heard the rest of the song: how Rowan foolishly allowed himself to be drawn north out of Falcarragh to a supposed parley with the Inishlanders, where he was ambushed and murdered by assassins in the employ of the Inish cloud-mage Garad Mhullien; and how Lamh Shabhala was taken from Rowan's body and brought to Inish Thuaidh. She barely reacted when Coelin fin-ished the song to the applause of the table, or when the Ri handed Coelin a small sack of coins and told him to return again four nights hence to entertain his guests at the Solstice Feast.

She sat clutching at the stone on its chain around her neck. She couldn't look at Mac Ard, and she fled the table as soon as she could make an excuse.

Chapter 18: Secrets

"WHY didn't you tell us that your ancestors once held the cloch, Padraic? I don't understand…"

Maeve's voice trembled, and Jenna could tell that her mam was on the verge of tears. Mac Ard, standing near the fireplace of their chambers, made as if to move toward her, but she lifted her head and he stopped with a shrug.

"Maeve, would you have trusted me if I had?" he answered. "Or would you have thought that I'd come only to take it from Jenna?" He glanced at Jenna, seated next to her mam and still clutching the stone.

"I don't know what I would have thought," Maeve answered. "Because you never gave us the chance to know. Why would you have come at all, if you didn't want the stone?"

"I did want it," Mac Ard answered. "I won’t deny that. Had I found the cloch on that damned hilltop, aye, I would have kept it for myself. I wanted to be the Holder of Lamh Shabhala. I thought. ." He took a breath and let it out in a nasal snort. "When I saw the mage-lights-here, so close to me-I thought that it was a sign that it was my destiny to bring the cloch back to my family. But Jenna already had it, though I didn’t know it. And when I did. ." He raised his hands, let them fall. "If you remember, I did hold it once, after Jenna killed the riders, and I gave it back. Maeve, have I done anything, anything, to make you feel threatened, or to cause you to feel that I’m a threat to your daughter?"

Jenna watched her mam shake her head slowly.

"Have I made any attempt to take the stone from Jenna, even though I had the opportunity, even though I once actually held it in my hands, before she knew how to use it?"

"No," Maeve admitted. She touched Jenna’s bandaged arm. "Though sometimes I wish you had."

"Then forgive me for not telling you all of the history I knew, but believe me when I say it was because I was afraid that you wouldn’t trust me, and because I was afraid that you would think that I lied when I told you I loved you."

"Padraic," Maeve began, but the tiarna interrupted.

"No, let me tell you all now, so there aren’t any more secrets. There isn’t much to tell." He pulled a chair close to the two of them and took Maeve’s hands. His attention was on her; he glanced quickly at Jenna and looked away again before returning his gaze to her mam. "All this took place five centuries ago, so I-don’t know what’s true and what’s been changed in all the telling and retellings over the years. That’s too much time, and details change every time the story gets told. So I’m simply going to give you the bare, dry genealogy without any embellishment: Sinna Hannroia-a Riocha from a small fiefdom-once held Lamh Shabhala, and she fell in love with the Ri of another small fiefdom named Teador Mac Ard, my several times great-da, and married him. The two of them had a daughter named Bryth and a son named Slevin. Sinna passed Lamh Shabhala to Bryth before her death, and as you know from Coelin’s song tonight, Bryth later

married Anrai Beirne-a purely political alliance, from what our family history tells us-and eventually became the mother of Rowan Beirne, who lost the cloch to the Inishlanders. In any case, I'm not of Bryth's direct line, which is dead now: Bryth had only Rowan, and Rowan left no children that anyone knows about. The Mac Ards of today, like myself, trace our lineage back to Bryth's younger brother Slevin. So, aye, once someone of my blood and my name was the Holder of Lamh Shabhala, but it was long, long centuries ago in the Before. I have hand upon hand of cousins with the Mac Ard name who can say the same. There are many tiarna, as well as people of more common blood, who can say the same because there have been numerous Holders over the years. If you're going to be afraid of all of those who share the same surnames, you're going to be fearful of half the Riocha. You can't blame me for history, nor hold me accountable for it." He kissed the back of her hands, lifting them to his lips.

"That's the extent of it, Maeve. Don't be afraid of my name. Don't be afraid of me."

He smiled at her, and Jenna watched her mam smile in return. Then Mac Ard leaned forward and kissed Maeve. "I need to see the Ri," he said. "The Ri rarely does anything without a reason, and I wonder why he ailed for that song tonight. I think he and I should have a conversation. If you'll pardon me…"

"Go on, Padraic," Maeve told him. She continued to hold his hands as he stood. "And thank you. I do understand."

He kissed her hands again. "I'll see you later, then. Jenna, I hope you also understand," he added, and left the room. As he did so, Maeve placed her hands over her abdomen, pressing gently. Jenna's eyes narrowed, and she must have made a sound, for Maeve glanced back over her shoulder and Jenna saw that she noticed where her daughter's gaze lay. Maeve looked down at her hands herself, then back to Jenna, shifting in her chair so she faced her daughter.

"Aye," she told Jenna.

"You're certain?"

"I've not bled for two moons, and I've been ill the last several mornings. But it's far too early to feel the quickening and know for certain." Jenna saw a slow satisfaction move over her mam's face. "But it

"Have you told the tiarna?"

"No. Not yet. I’ll wait until I can feel the life. Then I’ll tell him." She paused. "You’re supposed to ask if I’m happy," she said.

She went to her mam and hugged her fiercely.

"Are you happy?" she whispered, burying her head in her mam’s scented hair.

"Aye," Meave answered. "I’m happy. I want you to be happy, too."

For a time, the two held each other, saying nothing. Finally, Jenna pulled away with a kiss to Maeve’s forehead. "Will Padraic give the child his name, and you also, do you think?"

For a moment, Jenna saw uncertainty in her mam’s eyes. "I don’t know, Jenna. I don’t know how the Riocha do things. I don’t know all that Padraic can do and what he can’t. It doesn’t matter, though, as long he doesn’t change the way he feels toward me."

"But it does, Mam," Jenna replied earnestly. "Everyone will know it’s Padraic’s child, and if he won’t acknowledge it, they’ll laugh at you, Mam. They’ll give you their meaningless smiles and then snicker at you behind their hands. You know they will. It won’t be Mac Ard who’ll have to bear all that; it’ll be you." Jenna knelt in front of Maeve, her hands in Maeve’s lap.

She knew she shouldn’t say it even as she spoke the words. "Mam, if this isn’t what you want, well, Aoife knows an herbalist in Low Town. He’ll have potions, like Aldwoman Pearce… "

"Jenna!" Maeve said loudly, and Jenna stopped. "I don’t need your herb-alist," her mam continued, more softly. "I don’t want the herbalist."

"I know, Mam, but if after you tell him, what if he!!

"Jenna-"

. . what if he isn’t as he seems? What if he’s angry, or if he abandons you, or you find that the love he says he feels is just another Riocha word? She couldn’t finish it. She didn’t want to finish it. She didn’t want to believe it herself.