Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

"I hope it will not come to that," said Crann.

"What happened to Bricriu?" asked Talisen.

"When I returned to Temair and discovered the message was a hoax, we thought at first there had been some sort of mistake," related Gwynedd. "Bricriu has long been a friend to my mother and father. But when I went back to Bricriu's dun with a party of soldiers, we found it deserted. A search of the dun revealed evidence of Bricriu's collusion with Medb."

"So he has escaped?" said Talisen.

"No doubt he is in Scath by now," said Gwynedd.

"Come," interrupted Crann, "we must not delay further."

When they began moving forward, Collun noticed that Gwynedd gravitated naturally to a spot beside Brie. She greeted him warmly. Collun forced himself to look away.

That night over the fire Gwynedd reported that the last news they had received from the border was ill.

"Rumors of an invasion are rife, and it has been several weeks since any messengers have been able to get through," said the prince. "Even before Silien arrived in Temair, my mother was preparing for war. The proposed alliance between Tir a Ceol and Eirren gives everyone new hope."

Crann nodded gravely. Then he turned to Brie. "Are you fresh enough to scout for us? We should not relax our vigilance."

Brie nodded quickly and began to move toward her horse.

Gwynedd jumped up. "She should not go alone."

"No," interrupted Crann. "Brie is an accomplished tracker and trail finder. And one is less easily spotted than two."

"Crann is right," said Brie, swinging herself onto her horse.

Collun watched as Brie rode out of sight, her hand upraised in farewell. He resented Prince Gwynedd's protective gesture—despite the fact he had had the same impulse.

Collun woke well before dawn. He scanned the campsite quickly. Brie had not returned.

Crann was keeping watch and sat by the fire, brewing a pan of chicory. He held out a steaming cupful as Collun sat beside him. Sipping the nutty hot liquid, he looked sideways at Crann. The wizard's face was drawn and troubled.

"Is something wrong?" asked Collun anxiously.

Crann turned toward him and smiled. "Do not worry, spriosan. I'm certain Brie is fine. She will be back with us soon."

Collun relaxed. "What is spriosan?" he asked.

"Ah, it is the old word for twig or little branch. I hope you do not mind it." Collun shook his head. Then Crann said, "You asked if something is wrong. The answer is yes. I have been thinking of the Firewurme. Collun, what do you know of it?"

"Only what you have told me."

"Perhaps it is time I told you more," the wizard said. "I hope you will never see it, but it is well for all Eirrenians to be prepared." He drew a breath.

"In form, the Firewurme is much like the earthworms you find in your garden, only it is the size of a dun. Its body is supple and wrinkled, and it gleams pale white. It has no teeth, nor does it breathe fire. But in the Firewurme's white skin there is death, for it secretes an oozing, colorless guam, or sram in the old language, and this guam burns without flame. It is said to strip flesh from bone in a matter of minutes."

Collun shivered at the wizard's words.

"It has a long black tongue," continued Crann, "which is also coated with the deadly sram, and the tongue moves with lightning speed. The Firewurme cannot be harmed through its skin. It is many layers deep and, like its earthworm cousin's, can regenerate itself. It is rumored that its only vulnerable point is the eye, but the creature's eyelids are as hard as stone.

"According to the Ellyl who came to Tir a Ceol from Scath, it appears the monster lies quietly and shows no sign of leaving the island in northern Scath where it now dwells. But if Medb plans to place the Wurme at the head of her army..." Crann sighed deeply. "Yes, I am troubled by the Firewurme. And frightened, spriosan. All the comhairles and armies of the land will amount to naught if the Firewurme comes to Eirren."

Collun refilled his cup, willing his hand not to shake.

Crann shifted his position on the log they shared. "I am frightening you."

"No," began Collun, his cheeks reddening.

Crann gave a brisk shake to his head. "It is well to be afraid. You should never be ashamed when evil frightens you, spriosan. It is what will make you strong."

"I don't understand."

"You will. At any rate, Medb knows what the Wurme did to her ancestor Cruachan. I cannot believe she would risk such a fate herself. It is my guess that she will use it as a threat, a show of force, and nothing more." But Collun thought the wizard did not sound convinced by his own words.

Crann was gazing into his cup of chicory. Then he set it down and reached into his cloak. He pulled out the leather map.

"Here, I want you to have this, spriosan."

Collun looked at the wizard, uncomprehending.

"I have little need of it," said Crann, "and if for any reason we should become separated..." Collun opened his mouth to protest, but Crann spoke quickly. "I do not foresee that happening, but humor me just the same."

Collun took the map.

Dawn was breaking by then, and the others awoke. After a hurried meal, they set out again. It was late in the afternoon when Brie rejoined them. She looked pale and exhausted.

"Morgs," Brie said. "Four of them. They are about a half day's lag behind us."

"No Scathians?" asked the wizard.

"Just morgs, and they are traveling at a leisurely pace."

Crann looked thoughtful. "Either they wait for reinforcements, or they have orders merely to follow us." He paused. "Morgs shun daylight. Unless these four are unusual, they will rest during the day and travel by night. I suggest we do the same so there can be no surprise attacks."

And that became the pattern of their northward journey—sleeping during the day and riding all night. Collun found he could not easily adjust to this.

He did, however, grow increasingly comfortable riding Fiain. They began to develop the wordless communication Ebba had spoken of, until at times Collun felt he understood Fiain's thoughts. And it was clear the Ellyl horse knew his, for only rarely did he need to guide Fiain with pressure from his knees.

Most often he and Fiain rode alongside Crann, while Gwynedd and Brie rode together at the front. Talisen brought up the rear, singing snatches of the songs he was composing.

Close to dawn on the fourth day of the journey, they crossed a stream that Crann identified as Trout Beck. They made camp not far from the stream, and the dawn meal consisted of fresh trout flavored with peppergrass. As they ate, Crann asked Talisen if he knew any songs of the Cailleach Beara, the Old Woman of Beara.

"I know one, but it is no favorite of mine," Talisen replied. "It is all about old age and loneliness. Although I do like the bit about the well," he added with a smile.

"Who is the Old Woman of Beara?" asked Collun.

"An old friend," said Crann, and his face held a softness Collun had not seen there before. "She was once well-known in Eirren. And at one time she lived near Trout Beck. Beara planted that apple orchard." The wizard gestured toward the beginning of a grove that stretched out of sight.

"You knew the Hag?" asked Talisen in some disbelief.

Crann smiled. "She was not called so when I knew her."

"Does she still live?"

The wizard nodded. "Though I lost track of her many, many years ago. In truth, she cannot die."

"She is immortal?"

"Not exactly, but she found a way of renewing herself. I never learned how. But there is a very old spell that enables a person to take his life out of his body and put it into a separate vessel. As long as that vessel remains safe, the person will live. I have long wondered if Beara found that spell. Her magic was powerful enough. Come, Talisen, let us hear your song of Beara. I am in the mood for memories."