Fire Arrow

TWENTY-ONE

Sago's Net

The battle began, not with a fiery headlong rush into a sleeping enemy camp, but with two armies facing each other across a stretch of turf. One was small, weakened by injury and fatigue, but determined and wildly brave, while the other was enormous and subhuman, led by the cunning intelligence of a monster.

There was an eerie silence as the armies approached each other, no battle horns sounded, no gabha brayed. But then the two armies merged, and the noise grew and swelled as the killing began again.

As before, Brie and Ciaran, with Fara loping at the horse's side, cleaved a burning gash through the gabha ranks, but Brie sensed something different in the goat-men who engaged her. They seemed bolder, reckless even, and she realized that the gabha general Cernu had devised a new strategy. She found herself being pushed to one side by thick bands of goat-men. The more she hewed down the more did Cernu send to take their place. Brie was fast becoming isolated from the rest of the Dungalan army.

Vainly she tried to move toward her company, but clusters of gabha kept appearing, continually harrying her and Ciaran. Her anger mounted, but with it came some measure of despair. She saw that the Dungalans were being driven back, closer and closer to the white stone beach.

Then she suddenly caught sight of the Sea Dyak sorcerer; the last time she had looked, Sago, with Monodnock huddled beside him, had been seated by the same heap of stones. Now he was mounted on his pony and was riding into the gap between Brie and her army. There was no sign of Monodnock.

The frail sorcerer made a ridiculous, startling sight as he trotted along on the broad-beamed pony with the fishlike tail, and Brie heard a sound like a laugh coming from one of the gabha near her. Sago was singing, a nonsense song no doubt, and in one hand he held his little fishing net. Cursing Monodnock under her breath, Brie furiously slashed at the gabha hemming her in, trying desperately to break through to get to Sago. But by the time Ciaran had broken free, Sago had changed course. He was heading for the bulk of the gabha army, which was inexorably pushing the Dungalans toward the beach.

"Sago!" Brie shouted.

But he did not hear her, or chose not to hear her, and she watched, horrified, as he approached the nearest of the rear guard of the goat-men.

"Faster," she urged Ciaran.

A gabha had spotted Sago and turned to hew him down with an enormous ax. The Sea Dyak sorcerer lifted his paper-thin hand, the hand holding the net, and called out in a surprisingly loud voice, "Heva! Heva! Heva!" Brie recognized the words as the cry of the huer, the Ardaran fisherman whose house overlooked the bay, letting the other fishermen know of the reddening of the sea that meant pilchards in the bay.

The goat-man with the ax paused, surprised by the loudness of Sago's voice perhaps, and Brie watched in amazement as the small, ungainly fishing net in Sago's hand began to widen and spread. There was no light coming from the sorcerer, as it had with the sumog, but his face, which was transformed by an uncanny expression of pleasure, seemed to glow white, almost moonlike. The net, which gave off a faint white glow of its own, stretched and extended over the rear guard of the gabha army. The goat-men gazed up at it in growing wonder and fear. The Dungalans, especially the fishermen among them, had begun moving back, away from the net, the moment they heard "Heva! Heva! Heva!" The fishing net kept spreading, floating impossibly several feet above gabha heads, until most of the goat-man army was under its shadow.

Then the net drifted down, settling on their heads and shoulders and arms. Where it made contact with the furred hide of the gabha, it adhered, as though imbued with some sticky, deadly sort of glue. The strings of the net did not stick to Dungalan skin or hair, and those caught under it were able to burrow their way out between the bodies of the trapped and struggling goat-men. The gabha were panicking, braying loudly.

Then Brie noticed that the creatures were clutching their necks, as though having trouble breathing. Some had fallen to the ground, their limbs stiff and wracked by small jerking movements; gagging, choking noises came from their throats. And, in that moment, Brie suddenly realized what kind of fish it was that she had seen in Sago's amhantar. It was called puffer fish, and Jacan had once told Brie that the puffer fish was the most poisonous of the fish that inhabited the waters by Ardara; he had seen a fellow fisherman die in a matter of minutes, his breath stopped and his body paralyzed, from careless handling of a puffer fish.

Brie suddenly heard a powerful braying, and she spun around to see the goat-man general Cernu, astride a swift goat-horse, bearing down on Sago. He had no weapon in his hands, but before Brie could reach them, Cernu had lowered his spiraling horns and plunged them into Sago's thin chest. The sorcerer was knocked off his mount, falling backward onto the ground, the net dislodged from his hand. Cernu jumped off his steed as well and leaned over Sago. For a horrified moment Brie thought the goat-man would lift the featherlight sorcerer up into the air, impaled on his horns.

But he did not. He turned and faced Brie, an evil grin on his grotesque face, blood dripping from his horns.

"Brie!" came a warning shout from Collun, who had circled around toward her. Before she could react, a terrible pain radiated across her back. Brie toppled off Ciaran onto the ground. A goat-man, one of the band she had been fighting earlier, loomed above her swinging his club. With an agonizing upward lunge, Brie struck with the fire arrow and the creature collapsed.

By the time she turned back, Brie saw that Cernu was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a Dungalan. No, not a Dungalan, she realized with a shock, but Collun.

The gabha general towered above the boy. From somewhere the creature had produced one of those lethal clubs, studded with sharp spikes, and he was swinging it ruthlessly at Collun, who danced just out of reach.

But even as Brie moved toward them she saw Collun take a mighty blow to his head. He collapsed, falling to the ground, and lay there, unmoving.

Letting out a shout of pure rage, Brie charged the gabha general. The fire arrow sang in her blistered hand.

Cernu lowered his horns, brandishing his club at the same time. Brie swerved to the side, then rounded back. But he kept her at bay with his horns and his club. Frustrated, she slashed wildly. She could tell Cernu felt the heat from the arrow, but when she gazed up into his bulging, savage eyes she saw no fear.

Suddenly Brie was terrified, conscious of her puny human frailty. A terrible chill fear flooded her and she cowered back. Cernu let out a bray of victory and pushed forward to deliver a deathblow. Brie watched, hypnotized, as the spiraling horns came down at her.

Then something brushed past her legs, and a snarling whirlwind of fur launched itself at the gabha's haunches. For a moment Cernu was knocked off balance, then he let out an impatient grunt and swung his club at Fara, catching her across the neck. The faol tried to rise, but, stunned, fell back again. The gabha general turned back to Brie, but in that moment she darted under the reach of his horns and thrust the fire arrow up into his bearded chin.

Blood poured down her hand and the giant figure stiffened. The club dropped from his hand. As he fell, Cernu opened his mouth to bray, but all that emerged were flames. He hit the ground with a crash, his head afire.

Brie staggered, almost falling to the ground herself. Anxiously she looked around for Fara. The faol had an ugly gash on her neck but was already on her feet and trotting toward Brie. Together they found Collun. He lay where he had fallen, eyes closed, the side of his head a sticky mass of blood.

Brie was sure he was dead. Trembling, her fingers sought his pulse; she just barely could feel a whispering thrum against her fingertips.

Then she saw Sago on the ground several feet away. He lay on his side, curled up, face peaceful. He might have been sleeping, except for the wide stain of crimson across the front of his tunic. Brie crossed to him and crouched down.

Around them the battle continued to rage. The Dungalans who had crawled out from under Sago's net were, now fighting the goat-men who remained. But Brie was unaware of anything save the Sea Dyak sorcerer. His eyes flicked open.

"Hand me my pole," came a faint whisper, light as a puff of air. "Fish are biting." A smile curled his lips. Then his eyes sought Brie's, his thin fingers wrapping around her hand. "Remember the boy Thom. Watch his thumbnails as he grows," he said clearly. Then his eyes closed and he was dead.

"Brie," said Hanna, who stood behind her. "Help me with Collun." And as she and Collun had done for Hanna the day before, Brie and Hanna lifted Collun and carried him to a safe place.

Brie bent anxiously over Collun, her fingers finding his wrist again. "Will he...?" she asked Hanna.

"It is early to say," said Hanna, but she did not look hopeful.

"Stay with him," said Brie. Wearily she once more mounted Ciaran. Because of Sago, more than half the gabha army lay dead, and the rest were in disarray without their leader. But the battle was far from over, and Brie and Ciaran went to rejoin the Dungalan army.

As she rode, Brie heard the high pure call of a battle horn. She looked around, afraid. A small army was emerging from the forest, the sun reflecting off its shields and swords, blinding Brie for a moment. Then she saw the Dungalan standard raised high above them. Brie blinked in amazement. As the army came closer she recognized the man leading it—Ralfe, Prince Durwydd's adviser. The new army merged with the battle-weary old, and soon the remaining goat-men were in full retreat. It was not long before the last of the gabha were fleeing into the foothills.

***

By early evening the battle was over and the heartbreaking task of finding and burying the dead had begun. Most had lost close friends or family, and there was little of celebration in those who remained. Of the Dungalans who had journeyed from Ardara, fourteen had survived the battle, among them Lom, Jacan, Ferg and Gwil, Maire and her brother, and the boy Dil. Along with Sago and the fisherman Henle, the boy Marc, brother to Beith, had fallen, as had four fishermen.

Monodnock had disappeared, and Brie sent a small search party to look for him. The Ellyl was found in the forest, apparently hiding in a tree. He came down only because he overheard two of the searchers speaking of the enemy's defeat.

He appeared before Brie disheveled and exhausted, twigs sprouting from his orange hair. At first he could not meet her eyes.

"Most gracious and generous maiden," he said, gazing at her left shoulder, "allow me to offer my most heartfelt laudation and homage to your stunning rout of a most fearsome and multitudinous foe." Monodnock's eyes shifted to Brie's forehead. "It was a vast and irreparable disappointment to me that I could not stand shoulder to shoulder with you as you swept aside the evil tide."

"Monodnock...," Brie began, stone-faced.

"And alas, as it turned out, I could not, uh, I was not able to, uh, obey your mandate, wise as it was, or rather, uh, appeared to be..." The Ellyl suddenly brightened. "However, as Sago did mount his steed, I, uh, had a flash, a vision if you will"—Monodnock warmed to his theme, newly confident—"that this ancient man of power had within him one last burst of magnificence and that to hold him back from his heroic errand would be an incalculably grave error."

"I see. And did this 'vision' also tell you not to accompany Sago on his 'heroic errand,'" Brie asked, "in spite of the fact that I had ordered you not to leave his side?"

Monodnock reddened, but blustered on. "Of course, I intended to do as you directed, and was in the process of attempting to procure a steed of my own, when I suddenly sensed that my presence would almost certainly interfere with the, uh, spheres of power encircling the sorcerer. You can see, then, that I did not dare cause any obstruction between him and his desired goat, uh, goal..." Monodnock trailed off. His hair was a spiky jungle and his lanky form trembled with exhaustion from his lengthy vigil in the treetop.

Brie found herself veering between the urge to laugh out loud and the desire to give Monodnock a severe scolding. However, compassion won out, and she sent the Ellyl, sagging with relief, to find a bite to eat.

The Dungalan survivors gathered the slain gabha into large heaps and, as was the Dungalan custom with the remains of an enemy, set the mounds aflame, although as the smell wafted over their camp, Brie rather wished they hadn't. She had had enough burning goat flesh to last a lifetime.

The frayed remnants of Sago's net lay everywhere. Lom saved the largest intact piece he could find to take back to Ardara. The new arrivals listened in amazement to the tale of the Sea Dyak sorcerer's miraculous net.

Prince Durwydd's adviser Ralfe approached Brie as she helped with the digging of a grave, asking for a private moment of her time. As they walked in the direction of the mountains, Ralfe confided in Brie that just prior to the newly mustered army's departure for the north, he had received a message from Prince Durwydd in Tir a Ceol.

"Our prince, in so many words, stated that he was abdicating the throne; that he had chosen to make a life for himself in Tir a Ceol and would not be returning." Brie could see that Ralfe was in the grip of some powerful emotions, and she realized that the strongest was a deep shame for the actions of his prince. "I took it upon myself to delay imparting this distressing news to anyone until this moment. It was an egregious act of deceit; still, I have no regrets," he said stoutly. "Furthermore, I now consider myself under arrest for high treason, and do place myself in your custody."

Brie gaped at the grizzled man. "That's nonsense," she said bluntly. "You acted in the best interests of your army and your country."

"Notwithstanding, I did not have the authority to mount an army..."

Brie waved his words aside. "Tell me, Ralfe, is it not unusual for Ellylon to allow a human to live with them?"

"Prince Durwydd has royal blood, and the Dungalan royal family is known to have some amount of draoicht within them. Perhaps this is why."

"I see."

Between them, Brie and Ralfe agreed that now would perhaps not be the best time to tell the Dungalans of their prince's decision.

"What will happen?" Brie asked. "Who will rule in Durwydd's absence?"

"There is a young cousin, a boy who lives in the village Pennog. He is young yet to rule," said Ralfe.

"But he will not lack for loyal and farsighted advisers, of that I am certain," Brie replied with a smile.

***

Throughout the day, as Brie helped dig graves, kindle pyres, and—when she got the chance—care for a still unconscious Collun, she often found herself casting uneasy glances at Sedd Wydyr, which stood glittering against the blue sky. She knew, as they all knew, that although the gabha had been defeated, Balor still lived. Even if he did not show himself, he lived.

Lorn suggested that Balor must have fled once he saw the battle was lost. Brie said nothing, but she knew that was not true. On the other hand, she could feel no trace of Balor, even when she held the fire arrow and boldly sought him with her mind. All she got was a bad case of blurred vision for her efforts.

"He must have returned to Scath, taking the man Bricriu with him," Hanna suggested, sitting with Brie while she waited for her eyesight to return to normal. Collun lay nearby, his condition unchanged, and Fara was seated beside Brie, trying to dislodge the bandage Hanna had fashioned for the gash on her neck.

Brie shook her head, dissatisfied. "We will have to search Sedd Wydyr," she said.

Leaving Aelwyn to watch over Collun, Brie led the search of the crystal fortress. Using makeshift ladders to scale the outer wall, several Dungalans opened the gate from the inside for the rest of the search party. The inside of the castle was as opulent and shining as the outside, yet it was cold, devoid of any humanity. They searched the entire structure, every room, every twisting corridor, even out through the underground tunnel that exited through the door in the side of the bluff, but they found no trace of life. They did find another tunnel, a long one that led them to an entrance hidden deep in the foothills, and most were satisfied that Balor must have escaped through this route.

But Brie was not. She alone had felt Balor's power and could not conceive of him fleeing in such a way.

They buried Sago where he had fallen on the battle plain. First, as Hanna and Brie had done for Yldir, they crafted a small boat-shaped casket. They laid the fallen sorcerer in the boat, along with his empty amhantar, a makeshift fishing pole Brie had made, a small piece of the fishing net, and a skin bag of wine. The small piece of wood from the boat Gor-gwynt they placed in his open palm. Someone had gone out on the white stone beach, in spite of the white moths, and found a large smooth rock to use as a memory stone for Sago. As Hanna etched words onto the stone, Brie noticed a number of seabirds clustered overhead, some just hanging there, others gliding in tight circles. When they lowered the boat-casket into the earth, a fisherman from Ardara brought out a small pipe and played a short melody that Brie recognized as one of Sago's favorite nonsense songs, about a whitebelly and a plover. The seabirds above had grown in number, a large hovering cloud of whites and blacks and browns.

As the music ended, the seabirds cried out and then, almost as a solid mass, they flew away.

As the birds disappeared over the sea, Brie heard someone say with a sigh, "With Yldir and Sago gone, I'm thinking that's the last of the Sea Dyak sorcerers."

"Actually, no," Brie found herself saying, "I don't think so."

Several faces turned to her, questioning.

And Brie told them what Sago had said to her about the boy Thom who lived in the town of Mira, and about his thumbnails.

"I know the lad," said a fisherman from Mira in wonderment, "and a fine young fisherman he's already showing himself to be. Father's that proud of him. Wait until he hears of this..."

Because many of the Dungalans were uneasy near the moth-infested white beach, not to mention the looming, empty fortress of Sedd Wydyr, Lom suggested they move camp to their old site on the other side of the forest.

And so they finished their burying and burning and wearily traveled back through the trees, glad to see the last of Sedd Wydyr and its bloodstained battlefield.

The newly arrived Dungalan army had brought with them fresh provisions, and that night Hanna oversaw the cooking of an impressive feast. There was also a new supply of good Dungalan mead, and as the evening wore on the somber mood of the Dungalans began to lighten.

They were just finishing a delicious medlar comfit when a Dungalan who had ridden with the original army rose to his feet, his cup of mead upraised. Brie couldn't remember his name, but she knew he was a fisherman from the small town of Clibden with a boat he called Bream. The flames from the cooking fires lit his face and he called out, loud, "To Bren-huan!" And there came a great yelling and clapping.

Brie blushed. For a mortified moment she was afraid they were going to ask for a speech, but then Hanna stood and added her own toast to that of the fisherman from Clibden. She compared Brie's bravery to that of Queen Fionna and said that when Brie had led them to battle she had looked like a Dungalan war goddess, her braids flying behind her like bolts of golden lightning. When Hanna finished, there were more cheers and cups being refilled. After that came many rounds of toasts to all the many acts of bravery and comradeship during battle. Monodnock tipsily even offered a toast to himself, taking credit for dispatching Sago on his miraculous errand. It was late by the time the assembled companions began drifting off to their bedrolls.

Brie, Hanna, and Silien remained sitting by their campfire, Collun lying an arm's length from them. He was still unconscious, though Hanna said the wound to the side of his head looked better. But she could not say more.

"The truth, Hanna," said Brie, her face intent. "Is Collun going to recover?"

"I wish I had an answer, Biri. But even if his body heals, head wounds are difficult. It may be that his wits will be affected."

Brie's stomach tightened.

"He may be as a child, Biri," Hanna said gently.

Like a kesil, Brie thought, thinking of the handful of wandering wild forest men in Eirren. She stared at Collun's bandaged head. "Can we do nothing? Silien?"

The Ellyl shook his head. "The healing waters of Tir a Ceol cannot help hurts of the mind. I am sorry."

"Biri," Hanna said, her voice brisk, "your hand needs more of that mallow salve." Brie looked down at her blistered, oozing palm, the one that had wielded the fire arrow. The strip of cloth with which Collun had bound her hand had come loose.

Hanna had Collun's wallet of herbs and, with Brie's help, soon had made a small amount of the salve, which she applied to Brie's hand. The salve stung and soothed at the same time. But Brie noticed that Hanna's eyelids were drooping and that Silien had already dozed off.

"Get some sleep, Hanna," Brie said. "I'll watch Collun."

"Only if you promise to wake me in a few hours," Hanna murmured.

Brie brewed a pan of cyffroi, then reached for her bow with its broken string. She restrung it with a string she had borrowed from one of the Dungalan archers. Her quiver was empty except for the fire arrow; when her hand was better she would make new arrows. Idly, she took out the fire arrow. It hummed lightly against her unburnt hand. Then she looked at the story band at the very bottom of the shaft.

Brie caught her breath. The story band slowly unraveled itself, revealing the story of the Dungalan battle against the gabha. Hypnotized, Brie watched the events unfold in moving, vivid pictures. When she came to the part where Sago was run through by the gabha general's horns, tears welled in her eyes. And when Collun fell, his head crushed, the tears spilled over, wetting her cheeks. Then came the grave digging, the smoke from the pyres and the uneasy waiting by Collun's unconscious body.

"Where is Balor?" Brie whispered through her tears, clutching the arrow.

The white stone beach flashed in front of Brie's eyes, luminous in the moonlight, pulsing faintly.