Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

Collun's cheeks were burning.

"But why didn't Medb come for Collun in Inkberrow?" asked Talisen.

"She did. Once she found out from Nessa where Collun was, she sent Urlacan. But Nessa must have held out against Medb for a period of time, hence the delay. You had left Inkberrow by the time Urlacan got there. He was doubling back when he found you at the Traveler's Rest."

"Where is Nessa, then?" Collun asked, his voice barely audible.

"She is being held somewhere in Scath, I believe. Not at Medb's fortress, Rathcroghan, according to a source I trust. But that is all I have been able to discover."

"Why would Medb keep her alive?" Collun said the words with difficulty.

"I do not know, but it is my guess that Medb deems a live hostage more valuable than a dead one. Perhaps, also, she has some idea of using Nessa to flush Cuillean out of hiding—that is, if he still lives." The room went still, and no one spoke for several moments.

"What is to be done?" Collun finally said, his voice hollow.

"The better question, son of Cuillean, is what is it that you choose to do?" said Crann. His words were formal and distant.

Collun's head whirled at the sound of his naming. "Son of Cuillean." Was it possible? He hovered between laughter and tears. That he was not the son of the man he had long called father—the silent, grim blacksmith who had shown him little love—was not a surprise. Indeed, he wondered why he had not guessed it before. But to find that he, a cowardly farm boy with dirt under his fingernails, was the son of one of Eirren's greatest heroes ... If it were not so painful, he would call it the best joke he had ever heard.

He realized they were all looking at him. What was his choice? What other choice was there for him? He must finish what he had begun. "I would find my sister," he said simply.

Crann nodded, then fixed his bright gaze on Collun. "If you will have me, I would journey with you, son of Cuillean."

Collun felt a surge of relief. With Crann as companion, perhaps there was a chance of finding Nessa and bringing her back alive.

"And I would go with you, too, Collun," said Brie, her voice quiet but firm.

Collun opened his mouth to object, but Brie's dark eyes looked stubbornly into his.

"I'm coming, too, of course," said Talisen. He strummed his harp with a dramatic flourish.

Crann rose. "It is settled, then. We will leave tomorrow."

"But where do we go?" asked Collun, picking up the dagger from the game board.

"We go to Scath."

The wizard's words sent a shiver of dread through the group. "I have eyes in Scath and hope to know more of your sister's whereabouts by the time we reach its border." The wizard stood. He moved toward Collun.

"You have learned much today, spriosan." He rested his hand gently on Collun's shoulder. The boy could feel warmth emanating from the wizard's long fingers. Then Crann made a gesture of farewell and left the room.

Talisen was plucking the strings of his harp. "To think that all this time I was keeping company with the son of Cuillean! I will have to make a song about it."

Collun stood abruptly. "I want no such song," he said roughly.

"Collun...," began Brie.

"You knew, didn't you?" Collun said, turning toward her.

"The very first time I saw you in the Traveler's Rest, I noticed the resemblance to Cuillean—the color of your hair and eyes. But you said you were the son of a blacksmith, and I sensed no guile in your words. Then I heard you speak your mother's name in Temair."

"Cuillean was a friend of your father, wasn't he?" said Talisen.

"Yes," replied Brie, her voice flat.

"This is astounding, is it not, Collun? A true adventure," Talisen continued, enthusiastically. "To find you are the son of a great hero, hidden away in Inkberrow for all these years. I never did like that old beetle-browed Goban. Son of Cuillean...!"

But Collun only felt blank inside.

"Just think what they'd say back in Inkberrow if they knew you were the son of Cuillean," continued Talisen.

Son of Cuillean, son of Cuillean ... The words echoed in Collun's head. He rose. Brie gave Talisen a warning look, but he went prattling on.

"And all that time Emer was really wed to Cuillean..."

"Quiet!" Collun suddenly shouted, his voice cracking. Then he felt his stomach heave. He fled from the room. Leaning his forehead against the cold stone of the corridor wall, Collun retched until his stomach held nothing more.

SEVENTEEN

Fiain

Collun didn't know how he got there, but he was in the cavern of the horses, sitting by the pool. He cupped his hands and filled them with cool water to splash on his hot face. Then he idly began plucking handfuls of the flower turf. It was not long before the familiar white-and-gray muzzle dropped down by his hand.

The animal must have sensed Collun's turmoil for he was uncommonly patient, allowing the boy, for the first time, to stand beside him and run his hand along his mane. It was soft, not wiry and coarse like manes Collun had touched before. He had an overwhelming urge to bury his face in it, but he did not dare.

And then, again without knowing how it happened, Collun was astride the horse. His hands clutched Fiain's silky mane. They were moving through the Ellyl herd. They came to the end of the cavern, and Fiain took them through a passage to an even larger one. And then they were flying over the ground at a gallop. For a brief moment Collun was terrified, but then he abandoned himself to the dizzying sensation of motion and speed.

His legs were locked fast to the horse's body. He buried his hands and face in the streaming mane. Hot tears coursed down his cheeks. The horse moved with the fluid grace of a nighthawk, and Collun wondered if its hooves were even touching the ground.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the ride was over. Fiain came to an abrupt stop. Collun tumbled off his back onto the spongy turf.

Collun looked up at the horse, who was grazing unconcernedly beside him. He had never seen a creature so magnificent, so lit with fire and strength. He could not believe he had ridden this horse, or that he would ever have the courage to do so again. Fiain raised his head and looked at the boy. Collun felt something nudge into his thoughts.

It wasn't a word or a sentence, but more like a feeling inside him. Yet it wasn't from within him. And it was laughter. Suddenly Collun realized Fiain was laughing at him, as Talisen might, or Brie. Then the horse turned, flicked his tail, and broke into a trot. Wiping the remnants of tears from his cheeks, Collun stood and followed. They had covered a large distance during their wild ride, and Collun was weary by the time they returned to the cavern of the horses.

He saw Ebba making her way toward him. Fiain went directly to the silvery pool and began to drink.

"Then it is true," Ebba said as she reached Collun's side.

"What?" asked Collun.

"That Fiain has chosen you. And now that I know your history, it does not surprise me. Fiain is one of the foals sired by the Gray of Macha. The Gray was the Ellyl horse that Cuillean found and tamed many years ago. Fiain will go with you when you leave."

Collun could not believe it. "But I cannot ride him."

"If I am not mistaken, you just did. Anyway, he will teach you, and I will help, if you like. Here he comes." And Fiain was indeed approaching, his regal head held high. He allowed Collun to mount him, with Ebba's help.

Collun spent the rest of the afternoon learning how to ride an Ellyl horse. Ebba was a patient but unrelenting teacher. There was no saddle, and Collun had to learn to hold himself on the horse with only his legs, as he had done instinctively during that first headlong flight. Nor did Ellyl horses wear bridles; they could be guided only by pressure from the knees.