Manannan Trilogy

by Michele McGrath

  Olaf never mentioned his arm now, but his very silence screamed at her. His strength had returned but it was puny compared to the man she remembered. Yet he was well enough for them to leave and Renny had taught Niamh all she knew. The hardest thing would be saying goodbye, for she had become their friend.

  “I will never forget all you’ve taught me,” Niamh said, tears streaming down her face as she hugged her. “I can never repay your kindness to Olaf and me.”

  “Remember and use your skills. That’s all the repayment I need,” Renny said and her eyes were bright too.

  “I have little of value, but I’d like you to keep this token in remembrance of us.” Niamh held out one of her golden flowers.

  “I wouldn’t forget you and I need no token,” Renny protested. “You’ve been a good companion and my friend as well as my pupil.”

  “Yet it would please me if you took this and wore it sometimes to keep our memory bright.”

  “Take it, Renny,” Edan said. “It’s a beautiful piece of work. The craftsman who made this was very skilful. He’s certainly my master. I doubt I could make one half so fine.”

  “Please accept it,” Olaf said. “It’s Niamh’s, but I suggested that she give it to you as neither of us have anything better. You’ve given me back my life. Even such a beautiful trinket is small return for that blessing.”

  Renny nodded and let Niamh fasten the flower in her hair.

  “Why didn’t you give her both flowers?” Olaf asked, as they made their way down the river path to reach their boat. “They’re a match for each other and meant to be worn together.”

  “It was in my mind that I’d need to keep the other.”

  “How so?”

  “The flowers came to me from my mother. They’re the only things I have to prove who I am.”

  “And why would you need to prove yourself to anybody?”

  Niamh dropped her bundles and stood still on the path facing him. “Because I don’t want to go back to the place we’ve made our home. I want to go on.”

  “Go on? Where?”

  “To find the magician, McLir.”

  “Why?”

  “Renny says that he’s the only one who may be able to give you back the use of your arm.”

  Abruptly he turned his face away from her so she could not see his expression.

  “I know that it troubles you greatly. If we can find him, I need the other flower to show him who I am, so he’ll help us.”

  “Why should you need to prove yourself to him?”

  “Because he was the one who gave the flower to my mother and he’ll surely recognise it again. We’ve never spoken of this for months, but little by little, my memory has been returning. Perhaps it was the final shock of seeing you so badly injured that brought it all back to me. I remember in particular that a man called Eber, one of my tribe, told me that McLir is my father.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me your memory’s returned?”

  “I’ll never go back to the rath or see the people I once lived amongst. They’re not important to me. My life is here with you. But, if we find McLir and prove to him I’m his daughter, surely he’ll make you better for my sake?”

  “They say that he’s gone far away. Nobody knows where. He left the island years ago, if the tales are true. He could even be dead.”

  “Edan said he went southeast when he sailed away. They searched for him, but not for long. If he’s the sort of man he’s said to be, once he is no longer closely hunted, he would have started again to cure the sick and, if so, people will talk about him.”

  “What are you suggesting? That we go after him?”

  “Yes. Exactly that.”

  “A fool’s errand. How can we succeed if others have failed?”

  “Wouldn’t it be worth it? What have we got to lose?”

  “Our home?”

  “It’ll still be there when winter comes or we can build another if it isn’t. Do you want to return there and accept that your arm will never work again? Or do you want to try, for a few months at least, to find the man who might be able to help you?”

  “You really mean it, don’t you?” Olaf stepped back, his eyes opening as if he was seeing her for the first time. “You want to go on this foolish errand, to find a man who may be dead or so far away we’ll never find him?”

  “I want you to regain the use of your arm if it’s possible. I want to live as your wife, live in your home, bear your babies if I can and for us to be happy together. Those are the things I want most and I know how hard it is for you. If we can do those things, without finding the magician, say so. We’ll go back to our home and I’ll never speak about it again. Otherwise let’s take the boat and try to find my father.”

  Olaf laughed suddenly, startling Niamh. “You’re challenging me!”

  “I am. Do you accept the challenge?”

  “Until the end of the summer. If we can’t find him by then we’ll go home and I’ll try to be content. Is that agreed?”

  Niamh nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll send a message to Ean to look after the farm and the animals until then. He can store some of our crops for us and give the rest to his parents as payment for his time.”

  21

  So they set sail, not northwards to round the point, but southeast towards Bretyn. They were three days on the voyage before they saw the soft green hills rise before them. The light breeze did not make the boat unwieldy. Olaf was thankful for it, because Niamh was able to hold them on course without his help. He told Niamh that he hoped to reach land before the weather broke, for the last day of the voyage was unusually hot and humid. Their clothes stuck to their bodies and the wind had fallen even more, so they barely had enough to make steerage way. Olaf kept glancing at the clouds and at the pattern of the waves. He became more and more uneasy as the sky darkened behind them.

  “What is it?” Niamh asked anxiously as she watched him fidgeting.

  “A storm’s coming.”

  “Will we make shelter in time?”

  “With luck. Let’s pull the sail up higher and perhaps we can reach the bay before it breaks.”

  The wind started to howl and the clouds were rolling in as the boat rounded a headland in a whirl of spray. Niamh drove it up onto a sandy beach. The thunder crashed and lightning flickered over the hills. In seconds they were both drenched to the skin and shaking with cold as they pulled the boat up past the tide line and collapsed beside it. Fortunately the storm did not last long. It rolled north; a watery sun appeared and, for the first time, they looked around them and saw where they had landed.

  The place was small, with high cliffs on three sides and a stream gurgling its way down to the sea. A sandbar almost blocked the mouth of the bay and only the height of the storm waves had saved them from disaster.

  “Fortune has been with us,” Olaf said with a smile as they went about setting the boat to rights.

  “Let’s hope it stays with us,” Niamh replied.

  They remained in the bay that night and the next, lighting a fire to dry their clothes. They gathered plants and berries from the woods inland. Olaf fished and found that the sea was full of mackerel.

  That night, sitting around the fire, Olaf asked, “Have you thought how we will approach the people of this land?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They are dark, small people here and my kin and I have raided their coasts, stolen their goods and taken slaves from among them. I’m tall and both of us are fair. They’ll know me for what I am and be suspicious. They may even attack us without warning, for I can’t lay aside my sword and axe. We must have some means to defend ourselves. It’ll be difficult to find out the information we’re seeking from suspicious people.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that too and have an idea or two, but perhaps they’ll not work.”

  “Tell me.”

  “There’s a berry which, if we crush it, will turn our hair to brown. We used it in the rath to dye clo
th, but I remember a girl who put it on her hair to make the colour deeper.”

  “We’ll still be strangers.”

  “Yes, but not Norsemen and so not necessarily to be feared.”

  “Can you speak their tongue?”

  “Enough for basic things. Their language is not that different from my own or that spoken on the island. Fishermen come here and have little difficulty making themselves understood.”

  “You said an idea or two. What’s your second thought?”

  “People rarely attack those who approach them singing. If I sang and you played on a set of pipes, I think they might welcome us and even give us lodging in return for our news and our music. There are reeds here which we can use to make pipes and I think I remember how they are fashioned and played. I’ll show you.”

  “We’d have to leave the boat behind.”

  “We could hide it and circle round, so that it seems as if we’ve come from the land not the sea.”

  “That may be best anyway, for its shape would betray us.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s worth a try but, before we go into any village, we’ll watch it first and find out who’s living there. If the people seem peaceful, we’ll pretend to be minstrels. If they seem aggressive we’ll go elsewhere.”

  Niamh found enough berries in the wood to make a paste for Olaf but not enough to change the colour of her own hair.

  “Never mind, I can cover my head with a kerchief. No one will think I’m a threat to them, so it matters less.”

  “You don’t want to spoil your beauty, that’s the real reason,” Olaf teased her, as he let her rub the berry paste into his hair. “Even with mousy hair, you would be beautiful to me.”

  Later on, looking into a patch of calm sea to see what had happened, he complained,

  “Nothing’s changed.”

  “Oh yes it has,” Niamh replied. “Your hair is much darker, although you can’t see it. You don’t look like you. You look like a stranger.”

  “Well come and make love to this stranger then.”

  Niamh felt quite sorry to leave the quiet bay.

  Next morning they crept down the coast, leaving the boat at midday and then walking inland for a little way until they saw smoke rising into the sky. They hid and watched the people in the small village. Everything seemed peaceful enough, so they walked into the place, singing and playing music. The people welcomed them and offered shelter and food in return for their stories and songs, just as Niamh had predicted. They were let go with reluctance, but they did not find the information they were seeking.

  This became the pattern of their days as they travelled slowly down the coast of Bretyn. Only a few places they avoided, where Olaf was suspicious of the people who lived there. It was a peaceful, pleasant way of life and they made a few new friends, but it weeks before their search made any progress at all.

  One night, in answer to a question, an old woman told them about her sister, whose eyesight had been miraculously restored by a man they called a sorcerer.

  “A miracle,” she said. “Pure magic. She could not see and then she did.”

  “Does your sister live far away from here?”

  “A day’s sail. She and her man live past the red rock that looks like a bird’s head from the hill.”

  “Is the sorcerer still there?” Niamh asked eagerly.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Would your sister be able to tell us?”

  “She might, but it’s a year or two gone now. Why don’t you go and ask her? Tell her Eira sent you.”

  They went further south and found Eira’s sister.

  “He put clear drops of liquid into my eyes,” Kendra said. “Weeks it took, but I could see in the end and I never thought I would again.”

  “Where is the man now?”

  “Gone. Long gone.”

  Niamh sighed.

  “What do you want with him?”

  “If he cured your eyes, perhaps he can cure my man’s arm.”

  Kendra peered at the arm, which Olaf, as usual had tucked into a fold in his tunic.

  “That man, if he is only a man, can cure anything.”

  “Do you have any idea where he went?” Olaf asked expecting little, but she said,

  “He turned his boat into the great river and rode up with the tide. One of the men out fishing watched him go. Where he went afterwards or if the great waters took him, no one said.”

  They thanked her and left.

  “There are tales of this river, where the waves rise so high and rush inland so far,” Olaf said as he steered the boat out to sea again. “It’s a dangerous place to venture into if the tide is wrong.”

  “Do you think the waters took him?” Niamh asked. “Perhaps that’s why we have heard so little news of him.”

  “The man was skilful with a boat. Edan told me he had rarely seen anyone who was so fine a sailor. Your father would be able to ride the current, if anyone does. It’s possible that he had some accident, but it’s also possible that there is some other explanation. Only one way to know. I’ve always wanted to see this river. Let’s find out if anyone who lives on its banks can tell us more.”

  Olaf and Niamh came ashore short of the river’s mouth, near a village that sat on its estuary. They spoke to the people there and in particular, Olaf questioned them about the river and its ways. Unusually they did not stay in the village, but left as night fell and made their way back to the boat.

  “I didn’t like the look of the headman,” Olaf said when Niamh asked him why. “His eyes are sly and he sent one of the lads away with a message. We’ll do better by ourselves tonight and I want to be out of his territory, just in case.”

  So they got into the ship and Olaf headed her out to sea. Then he hove the boat to and lashed the tiller. He lay down and pulled Niamh into his arms.

  “Why are we here?” she asked.

  “We’re waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  “The big wave that comes and rolls up the river. It arrives every month and lasts four or five days. There’s one due just after dawn. We’ll ride it up the river as McLir did and see where it takes us. Maybe it’ll even take us right to where he is now.”

  “That’s too much to hope for.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “So you found out what you needed to, in spite of our hurried departure?”

  “I did. The headman told me more than he realised. The currents run most swiftly in the middle of the stream, as you’d expect. One of the other men said there were rocks near to the southern entrance and other things to avoid. He gave me some idea how he manages his boat as the wave carries him forward.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “A bit, but nothing we can’t manage between us.”

  “You’re looking forward to riding this wave!”

  Olaf laughed. “I am, but go to sleep now. We must be ready for it when it comes.”

  22

  It was exhilarating. Just before dawn, Olaf hoisted the sail and positioned the boat in the river’s mouth. They drifted inshore slowly, for the wind was light and Olaf loosed the ropes so the sail flapped loosely against the mast. Then, suddenly, they heard a sound, a low boom, ringing out behind them. A rim of white water gleamed in the growing light.

  “Hold on!” Olaf yelled, turning the boat so the stern pointed at the rushing water and tightening the ropes. Niamh grasped the gunwales and felt the boat tip as the surging water passed beneath their keel. Then they were on top of the wave and flying forward. Olaf shouted, glee in his voice, as they hurtled towards the river mouth. Niamh clung on tightly, a little afraid, but it was a delicious fear. She had never gone so fast in all her life. The banks with their trees and hillocks flashed by. Olaf hardly turned the tiller at all. Their way was straight and clear. The river seemed to open before them and they sped along, laughing as they went, for the pure thrill of it. The ride finished far too soon. They were a long way up the river wh
en the wind died, blocked by the banks as the stream narrowed.

  “Get a paddle!” Olaf shouted. “We’re losing way!” He lashed the tiller with a loop of rope and grabbed another one for himself. He dug it into the river, one-handed and, for a little while, their efforts kept them going but it did not last. They were not strong enough to match the swiftness of the stream and gradually they slipped backwards into quieter water.

  “Pull to the shore,” Olaf said, gasping. Niamh was very glad when the boat grounded on the mud. She could hardly paddle for panting so much.

  “What a ride! What a wave! I’m glad we’ve ridden it. Truly a tale to tell our children.” Olaf laughed through his gasps as he fought to recover his breath. “Did you enjoy it?”

  “I did, but I wouldn’t want to do it every day. Far too exhausting.”

  Together they pulled the boat higher up the bank. Only then did they stop to look around them. The land was green, with small hills covered with trees. Water lay in the meadows, where the wave had flooded the banks. It spilled back into the river even as they watched. Marsh plants grew in profusion, liking this wet soil. There was not a dwelling or an animal in sight.

  “I wonder if McLir came so far upstream. His boat is much larger than this little skiff, according to Edan’s description. It would have been more awkward to turn in the twists of this river,” Olaf said musingly as they ate their meal.

  “At least the wave is unlikely to have overturned him. If we were able to ride it easily, so could he.”

  “True. If he did come here, he must have come to shore nearer to the river’s mouth, I think. If there are tidings of him at all, we must go back downstream to ask the people we pass.”

  “This place looks deserted.”

  “The people will live on the higher ground. No one would build their dwellings so close to a river that floods as much as this one does. That doesn’t mean that they’re not close by.”