Hero's Song

ELEVEN

Lord Bricriu

The room suddenly tilted, and Collun had to put a hand on a nearby table to steady himself. He stared blindly at the vellum. He thought of Emer's face as it had been the last time he saw her. He had known then that she was dying. He should not have left Aonarach. Now both Emer and Nessa were lost to him.

Collun focused his eyes to read the rest of the letter.

Fial,

Emer is dead. The boy Collun left here several

weeks ago, bound for Temair. If he should arrive

there, tell him what you will. It is no more a

concern of mine.

Goban

Collun's limbs felt frozen. He rubbed the numb spot on his forehead and wondered why he could not cry.

He suddenly became aware of Quince's voice. "What is wrong?"

"It is bad news," Collun replied, his voice sounding faint and high-pitched in his own ears. He cleared his throat. "My mother, Fial's sister by marriage, is dead." He walked woodenly to the small fire burning in Fial's fireplace. Collun thrust the thick goatskin vellum into the embers and watched, clenching his ice-cold fingers as it smoldered and finally burst into flames. A rancid smell permeated the room. On the bed nearby, Fial moved restlessly, but she remained unconscious.

Quince watched Collun, sympathy in his dark eyes. "May I bring you something?"

Collun shook his head. He turned and slowly walked into the outer room where his friends were gathered. Talisen and Silien were playing a game with dice, and Brie stood by the window gazing out.

Talisen looked up and, alarmed by the sight of Collun's chalk white face, laid down the dice he held. He quickly crossed the room to his friend's side. "What is it? What has happened?"

"She is dead," Collun replied dully.

"Who? Nessa?"

"No, Emer. My mother is dead."

From her spot by the window, Brie swung around to face Collun. "Emer?" she said sharply. Her face was almost as white as Collun's, and she stared at him as if at a ghost.

"Yes," Collun replied without looking at Brie. His lips felt dry.

"Here. Sit." Talisen gently nudged Collun into a chair. "Bring him something. Quickly!" he hissed at Quince, who had followed Collun into the room. The servingman nodded and went out. Talisen sat on the arm of the chair and tried to rub some heat into Collun's hands.

Collun sat still. His mother was dead, and his father's words hung before his eyes: "It is no more a concern of mine." Goban was dismissing Collun from his life as if he were a worn horseshoe. Collun had long known his father had little love for him, but to be swept aside so finally, so unexpectedly, caught him like a blow to the stomach. He had no home now. Nowhere to return to. And still he could not cry.

Quince returned with a flagon of thick amber liquid that burned Collun's throat as it went down. The paroxysm of coughing that followed brought his thoughts into focus. They were due to leave soon for Lord Bricriu's dun, and he still had to finish making the herb possets Quince had requested for Fial. He rose to his feet, feeling strangely calm. "Please do not speak of this to anyone," he said, voice flat, and then left the room.

As he crushed the leaves of the wood avens plant and sifted them into a bowl of broth from the dun's kitchen, Collun could hear voices through the open door.

"Why did you react so to the news of Emer's death?" asked Talisen. "You turned pale as a cloud."

There was no answer for a moment, then Brie spoke. "It must have reminded me of my own mother's death." Her voice was without expression. "Why has Collun never spoken the name of his mother before this?"

"She wished it so," Talisen replied. "I do not know why." There was another pause. "I thought you were only a babe when your mother died," Talisen went on, his voice speculative.

"Losing a mother is hard no matter what your age."

"Yes," responded Talisen. "Perhaps I am the lucky one. As far as I can remember, I never had a mother to lose."

Then Quince entered Fial's room. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the sound of the voices.

"Can I help?"

Collun shook his head. While Quince built up the fire, Collun crossed to Fial's bedside and looked down at his aunt. Her breathing was more regular, but still she did not awaken. He suppressed an urge to reach down and shake her by her thin shoulders. Collun was sure she knew the truth behind all the secrets Emer had kept hidden. He gazed at her half-expectantly, but the sick woman did not stir, and with a sigh, Collun returned to his work.

By midday they were ready to depart. The queen generously provided them with horses from the royal stables.

Collun had decided he would not speak to the queen about Emer now. But if he should ever return to Temair he would go to her at once and tell her everything. Now that his mother was dead, Collun could not believe she meant him to continue this silence. But first he must find Nessa—and Crann, too. His mother had told him to go to Crann when she died.

As they set out, Collun introduced Brie, still in her boy's raiment, to Prince Gwynedd and Lord Bricriu.

Bricriu looked closely at Brie. "Your face is familiar to me, Breo-Saight."

"I do not believe we have met before, m'lord," she replied.

"No, but. ." His gaze dropped to the bow that Brie wore slung over her shoulder. A look of recognition came across Bricriu's face. "I know that bow! Unless I am much mistaken, I knew your father. Was he not Conall, the great champion of Eirren?"

Gwynedd, who rode nearby, peered at Brie. "Yes! I see the resemblance myself. But," he added in a puzzled tone, "Conall did not have a son."

Brie kept her lips tightly closed and motioned with her reins as if to move away from them. Collun saw that her cheeks were flushed.

Bricriu moved his horse up, blocking Brie's. "If you are not Conall's son, then how did you come by his bow? There cannot be two bows bearing the design of a Sun Bear." Bricriu's voice turned soft. "Unless you were one of his murderers?"

Brie drew up her reins and twisted in her saddle, facing Bricriu. Her eyes were blazing and her hand flew to the dagger she wore at her waist.

"No. I thought not," Bricriu responded with a conciliatory smile. "Indeed, I can see your father in your eyes, especially when the battle light comes upon them. You are Conall's daughter, are you not?"

Brie's mouth opened slightly, then she quickly clamped it shut.

Talisen laughed from behind. "Your disguise wears thinner and thinner every day, Brie."

Prince Gwynedd urged his horse up next to Brie's. "You are Conall's daughter? Well met, Breo-Saight!" he said warmly. "I was a great admirer of your father. He was almost an uncle to me. How is it that he never brought you to Temair?"

"He did, several times, when I was very young. After that I chose not to accompany him. I grew up wearing breeches and running wild," she explained. "I would not have fit in at court."

Gwynedd gave an engaging laugh. "I know. For myself, I would much rather be off hunting or journeying than wasting time on dancing and feasting and acting polite all day. But tell me, Brie—may I call you Brie?" She nodded. "Are the arrows you carry of your own design? And what kind of feather do you favor?"

As the prince and Brie launched into a lively discussion of bow and arrow construction and design, Collun felt the stirrings of an emotion he could not name. Something about the self-assured prince and the sound of his voice affected Collun the same way as the noise of iron scraping iron. He felt ill-humored and awkward on top of the large horse. Grimly he reminded himself that it was an honor to be accompanied by the prince of Eirren.

The companions journeyed well into the night to reach Bricriu's dun, and they were hungry and tired when they arrived. They were provided with rooms and baths, after which Bricriu bade them join him for a late meal before retiring.

Just as they were sitting down to dinner, a servingman bent to whisper in Bricriu's ear. A troubled expression came across the nobleman's face.

"Prince Gwynedd, I'm afraid a message has just arrived for you from Temair. It appears that the queen wishes you to return immediately. No reason was given, only the message that it is urgent."

"A messenger just arrived?"

"Yes. And both the poor man and his horse are dead with exhaustion. I hope there has not been bad news from the border."

"I shall leave at once." The prince rose to his feet.

"Of course, if you wish it. But do you not think you ought to wait until the morning? You are weary from the long ride..."

"No. If my mother thinks it urgent, then I must go. Collun," Gwynedd said, turning to him, "I am sorry to leave, but I hope we will meet again. Good luck to you." And he gave Collun's hand a last crushing grip. Then he bade the others farewell. Collun thought the prince's smile lingered longest on Brie.

Lord Bricriu called for food and drink. They were in a small room with a fire crackling in the large stone fireplace, seated on rust-colored cushions around a low round table. Lanterns of red glass gave the room a dim orange glow. The food was savory and elegantly prepared, and it was served by a throng of attentive servingmen who all wore rust-colored hooded cloaks and white gloves.

Though he was clearly concerned about the abrupt departure of the prince, Lord Bricriu was a charming host. He, Talisen, and Silien did most of the talking. Collun was still numb from the news he had received in Temair, and Brie was characteristically silent.

After some worried speculation about the queen's urgent message for Gwynedd, the conversation gradually shifted to the heated exchange of the night before about Cuillean.

"I regret my part in it," Bricriu said. "I should not have repeated the rumor I heard. My own feeling is that, though a body has not been found, Cuillean must be dead. He would not stay away so long, not with our country on the verge of war.

"And I also fear that he met his end in much the same manner as his friend, Conall," Bricriu added grimly, with a sympathetic look in Brie's direction.

Brie did not respond, but Collun saw the muscles in her face tighten.

"It was a heinous crime and a tragic loss for all of Eirren," the nobleman continued, his eyes still on Brie.

"What were the circumstances, if you do not mind my asking?" Talisen asked Brie.

She did not reply, and Bricriu answered for her. "There were no witnesses, as far as I know, but those who discovered Conall's body say it was surrounded with the footprints of at least twenty or more men on horseback. But perhaps"—Bricriu looked over at Brie—"it is too painful for you to speak of your father's death?"

Brie shook her head. "The wound has healed," she said woodenly.

"He was outnumbered, then, by twenty to one?" said Talisen in revulsion.

"Twenty or more," replied Bricriu. "From the markings on the ground and all the blood that was spilled, Conall plainly hewed down a goodly number of his attackers. They took their dead with them, of course. But Conall died as he lived"—Bricriu gazed again at Brie as he spoke—"a courageous and honorable champion of Eirren."

Brie bowed her head but did not respond to his words. Bricriu then called for dessert, and as the servingmen cleared their plates Collun tried to catch Brie's eye. Her mouth was set in a tight line, and a small muscle near her left eye jumped spasmodically. She would not meet Collun's gaze, though he knew she was aware of him.

Ever since they had left Temair, Collun and Brie had spoken little. At first he thought it was because the prince was monopolizing her attention, but several times he had gotten the distinct impression she was avoiding him. Once, he had even turned toward her to ask a question and caught her staring at him with an expression that looked very much like hatred. It was gone a second later, and he thought he must have imagined it. Surely if she truly felt that way, she would not stay with them. But still he could not shake the memory of that look.

He looked down at the plate in front of him and saw they had been served an array of sweetmeats as well as a pie of pumpkin and currants, which Talisen was already devouring. With the dessert came cups of steaming mead. The mead had a nutty, slightly bitter taste.

Bricriu rose to his feet and raised his cup. "A toast before we retire. To the quest we begin tomorrow and to our success in bringing back the maiden Nessa, safe and well. Drink up." As they all dutifully drank the nutty mead, Collun noticed Bricriu's eyes fastened on him. They held an expression he could not fathom.

Collun suddenly felt uneasy. The orange light in the room was giving him a headache, and his mouth felt dry. He'd become very tired, his head heavy and his limbs sore from riding the queen's horse. He tried to protest when a servingman refilled his cup, but he could not seem to move his tongue. In a daze he watched the gloved hand pouring mead, noticing almost idly that the wrist protruding from the glove had gray skin. With great effort he raised his eyes to look up into the hooded face. A pair of slitted yellow eyes gazed steadily back at him. Collun's body stiffened, and he groped in his fogged memory for the name of the creature with yellow eyes.

He started to rise to his feet, thinking to warn his host. The last thing he remembered was Bricriu's bright gaze on him with that same indefinable expression.