Wolfking The Omnibus: Books 1-4

by Sarah Rayne

  ‘T rue.’ Nuadu arranged himself on the ground at their feet and Fenella thought: everything he does is graceful yet I believe it is wholly natural.

  ‘All I have done,’ said Nuadu, ‘is to bring the Six Royal Houses safely out of reach of the Gruagach, and into the Wolfwood and Croi Crua Adhmaid.’

  ‘I didn’t mean — ’

  ‘It is little enough,’ said Nuadu. ‘Croi Crua Adhmaid is not, after all, invincible.’ He glanced behind them into the shadowy depths of the now-dark forest. ‘We shall only remain here for as long as it takes to lay our plans and marshal our forces. And doubtless we are already surrounded by the Robemaker’s creatures.’ He regarded Miach. ‘But what are you going to do, my child?’ he said. ‘Tell us of your plan to beat the Dark Ireland.’ And he leaned back and waited.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘I’m going to wake the Trees.’

  Miach sat back and beamed at Floy and Floy stared and thought: how the devil am I supposed to answer that one? He had drawn breath to make some kind of response, although he was later to wonder what he would have said.

  Nuadu stared at Miach and said, ‘In that case, may all the gods preserve us.’

  ‘It’s a very good idea!’ said Miach, stung.

  ‘It’s a remarkable idea,’ said Nuadu, and turned as Clumhach came beaming over to them.

  ‘Food and wine for our guests,’ he said. ‘Come along everyone, everything is set out for you.’

  ‘We may live like gypsies, but we have retained a veneer of culture, you see,’ observed Nuadu, unfolding from his curled-up position and holding out a rather absent hand to Fenella.

  ‘Some of us have retained more culture than others, of course,’ said Tealtaoich.

  ‘Some of us brought a positive army of servants, with which to do so,’ said Dian Cecht.

  ‘That’s because some of us have loyal servants, my dear,’ said Tealtaoich. ‘I should not have dreamt of leaving my people behind to the mercies of the Gruagach.’

  ‘If you felt like that, you should have put up a better fight against them,’ said Feradach of the Foxes, and Tealtaoich turned a look of utter astonishment on him.

  ‘Do you mean go into battle?’ he said. ‘Oh, I could not contemplate such an extreme measure. I leave that kind of thing to people like Clumhach.’

  ‘I fought,’ said Clumhach, pleased to be able to join in this. ‘I fought very hard indeed. We all did.’

  ‘We lost,’ said Oisin.

  ‘Yes, but it wasn’t for the want of trying. In fact, we were going to call up the Beasts,’ remembered Clumhach. ‘It would have been the first time it had been done for — well, for a very long time, but we were going to try.’

  ‘The ancient art of the Mindsong,’ explained Nuadu to the four travellers. ‘What was once called the Samhailt. Each of us has the power over our own kind. In times of trouble we can call them to our aid.’

  ‘We didn’t have a chance to call them,’ said Oisin. ‘The Mindsong requires complete silence and utter concentration and we were all of us much too busy trying to fight the Gruagach. Because,’ he added, ‘despite what Tealtaoich will try to have you believe, he fought more wildly than any of us.’ He smiled at Tealtaoich in rather a mischievous way.

  ‘Oh, tooth and claw,’ said Tealtaoich, urbanely.

  ‘We all fought,’ said Clumhach. ‘I think it’s very important to remember that we all fought very hard.’

  ‘It’s quite important to remember that we also lost,’ said Tealtaoich, and there was a sudden anger in his voice, so that the four Renascians realised for the first time that these strange creatures, for all their rather brittle jibes, cared very deeply indeed about Tara, the Shining Palace which had been taken from them.

  ‘They care,’ murmured Nuadu, who had seated himself next to Fenella, ‘because they each of them want the Throne.’

  Fenella said, rather sharply, ‘Do you always listen to people’s thoughts like that?’

  ‘If they will be of interest,’ said Nuadu urbanely. He reached for the wine flagon and filled her chalice. ‘Do you not have that power in your world?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How dull and boring.’

  ‘It makes for privacy,’ said Fenella a bit sharply, because they might be these creatures’ guests, but it would not do to allow themselves to be patronised at all. Nuadu smiled gently and appeared not the least bit discomposed. Fenella, rather hesitantly, said, ‘When the- the Gruagach drove the King out, were you there?’

  ‘Yes, Lady.’

  Fenella said, ‘If the others were going to — call up the Bears and the Panthers and all the rest, could you have called up your — that is — ’

  ‘Could I have summoned the Wolves?’ said Nuadu, sitting back in his chair, and regarding her over the rim of his wine glass. ‘Oh, no, Human Child, Fair Lady, I have not that power.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I am tainted stock,’ said the bastard prince and smiled the smile that was dangerous and sinister and exciting, but which did not seem to care for anything at all. ‘They would not have answered me. And also — ’ He stopped. A tiny frown touched his brow and then he said, as if it was unimportant, ‘Also, the Royal Wolves have long since gone from Ireland in any case.’ He sent her the slanting look. ‘That is what everyone will tell you.’

  ‘But — it is not true?’

  ‘The Wolves of Ireland have not been seen since the days of the High King Erin,’ said Nuadu smoothly.

  ‘But your … the Queen — ’

  ‘My mother the Queen was a very remarkable lady,’ said Nuadu. ‘She travelled to Ireland’s wild and remote parts.’ He looked at Fenella. ‘It is twenty-two years ago,’ he said. ‘Perhaps the Wolves still roamed in the off-shore islands and in the great northern forests then. They do not do so now.’ And then, as if shaking off a tiresome mood, he said, ‘But it is sure that when it is judged time for the Wolfkings to strengthen the line, by lying with the she-wolves, my family will end. The Wolves will no longer be there. And then, according to an old old prophecy, Tara will fall and Ireland will be forever damned.’

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ said Fenella, staring at him, ‘but don’t you care?'

  ‘I care for nothing and no one,’ said Nuadu at once. ‘Why should I? Tara is nothing to me. And Ireland is already in the grip of the Dark Realm. If you go out from here, if you go out into the villages and the towns and the hill farms, you will see that people are already being forced to make sacrifice to the Robemaker.’

  ‘Sacrifice?’ said Fenella, who knew the word, but had never actually said it.

  ‘Their sons,’ said Nuadu in an expressionless voice, ‘sometimes their daughters.’ He regarded her and Fenella frowned, because this was a totally unfamiliar concept.

  ‘They have to give them up for — to work for the Robemaker?’

  ‘Yes, some of them are chained in the Robemaker’s Workshops and forced to work there. But some are simply killed and their souls offered to the Soul Eaters,’ said Nuadu.

  Again the mention of souls and their loss …

  Nuadu said, ‘The idea of sacrifice is unknown to you?’

  ‘Well,’ said Fenella, ‘yes, it is, rather.’

  ‘It is something that Ireland is very used to,’ said Nuadu, his eyes unfathomable. ‘Throughout our history, sacrifices have been demanded and taken. Sometimes they are called by other names, but the end is always the same. The loss of lives, and the stealing of souls.’

  Again the mention of souls and their loss …

  ‘But all creatures have souls,’ said Nuadu, looking back at her.

  ‘I think,’ said Fenella carefully, ‘that perhaps our — perhaps my people lost sight of it a bit. I think we have forgotten about souls. Our ancestors’ world was destroyed, you see, and so much was lost to us. So many beliefs and faiths and teachings.’

  ‘That saddens you.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Fenella. ‘Yes, it does.’ She looked at him. ‘We were ch
eated,’ she said. ‘Out of our history.’

  ‘To lose a thing, or even to forget about it, does not mean that it ceases to exist,’ said Nuadu. ‘Your history existed, nonetheless.’

  ‘Yes.’ Fenella was thinking that this question of souls and losing or keeping them was rather intriguing, but also that it might take some sorting out in her mind. But she only said, ‘What of the Gruagach. You fought them?’

  ‘Only to relieve the tedium of everything. In any case, we lost the battle. Allow me to serve you with some of this wild sorrel, Lady.’

  The food was unfamiliar but delicious, and the wine was strong and fragrant and bore no resemblance at all to any of Snodgrass’s brews.

  ‘But it was very good wine,’ said Snodgrass later.

  ‘I drank four chalice fulls,’ said Snizort.

  ‘I asked them for the recipe,’ said Snodgrass.

  ‘How rude.’

  ‘Not as rude as drinking four chalice fulls.’

  ‘Did they give you the recipe?’

  ‘Well, no.’

  ‘There you are then.’

  We are very nearly at home here, thought Fenella, listening to them, noticing how Floy had fallen into an absorbed discussion with Eogan and Feradach about the battle against the Gruagach, and how Snizort was making notes — ‘I asked if they would mind,’ he explained earnestly afterwards. ‘I wouldn’t have done it without asking, of course. But do you know, they were rather flattered.

  ‘They had what they called ollam at the Court; I think that means Chroniclers, but, of course, the ollam didn’t come with them into the Wolfwood. Oisin said they would be very glad to have some proper accounts of what was happening. He said all this was Ireland’s history in the making and it ought to be written down. Very sensible,’ said Snizort, happily arranging his papers and pens and the ink-pot. ‘I shall make a very careful record of it all for them.’

  Snodgrass was discussing the precise ingredients of the hare stew with Clumhach and offering to cook them all his own blackberry pudding for tomorrow night’s supper.

  ‘I thought it would be only polite,’ he said. ‘And my word, the forest’s full of them! Blackberry pudding with apple.’

  We are very nearly at home out here in this dark ancient forest, with these strange half-Human creatures …

  Fenella found the thought surprising, but somehow not so surprising as it might have been. Oughtn’t they to be wary and suspicious and out of place? And oughtn’t they to be finding it difficult and awkward to talk with these creatures? But it isn’t in the least difficult. It isn’t difficult or awkward and none of it seems strange. Because we passed through so many remarkable experiences before we arrived here? Perhaps. Although I think it is more than that, she thought, curled into her chair at the table, enjoying the fragrant wine and the way the firelight made a pool of safety and warmth. I think it is simply that we were always meant to be here.

  ‘Perhaps you were, Lady,’ said Nuadu softly at her side.

  ‘Is that possible?’ Fenella would not turn her head to look at him, because that way he might see even more deeply into her thoughts. But she was strongly aware of him watching her and she knew, without looking at him, that his eyes would hold the disturbing glint and his face would be shadowed and secretive in the firelight. But, ‘Is it possible?’ she said again, her eyes on the others.

  ‘Time is not always reliable,’ said Nuadu. ‘It is occasionally flawed or damaged and sometimes things — people — whole worlds perhaps — are misplaced.’ He waited, and Fenella at once understood that he meant Time as a great glowing tapestry. ‘People are not always born into the place and into the age they were intended for,’ said Nuadu, very softly. ‘Perhaps that is why you are here now, Fenella.’ He smiled the wolfsmile, and his voice lingered over the syllables of her name, so that Fenella stared at him and felt a sudden dark stirring, a strong, sensual pull … How would it be to be held against him, to feel the cool silver arm imprisoning her so that she could not pull away … ? I think I had better not wonder about that, she thought firmly, and turned to talk to Oisin and Snizort.

  Towards the end of the meal, which Fenella supposed they ought to call supper, there was a whisper of sound from deep within the forest behind them and the sensation of dozens of wings beating on the air and the feeling of dozens of eyes peering from the darkness. Perhaps it would be as well not to look too closely. There was no knowing what strange and sinister beings might lie in wait out there in the dusk, and there was no telling what might happen to them if they inadvertently looked on one.

  Floy, sitting with Feradach and Eogan, felt, in the same minute, the stirring and the soft awareness but, unlike Fenella, looked behind him at once to the clustering trees, and caught — or thought he caught — a smudge of blue-green, wisps and curls of something that was not quite smoke and not quite water. There was a shimmer of iridescent wings, the sense of long, narrow eyes watching, of round, hard, seal-like heads.

  From across the table, Tealtaoich said in a matter-of-fact voice, ‘Are you glimpsing the sidh, Floy?’ and Floy turned round in his chair, and stared at Tealtaoich, who smiled the catsmile, and said in a purring voice, ‘Do remember, my dear, that to look on the sidh properly, to see them in their chill and unearthly reality, is probable death and certain madness.

  ‘Dear me, how poetic that sounds,’ he said with lazy mischief. His eyes flickered over Floy for an instant and something that was neither lazy nor mischievous gleamed there. ‘Do not,’ said Tealtaoich suddenly and rather seriously, ‘even listen to their music for longer than absolutely necessary.’

  ‘What are the sidh? asked Floy, his eyes still on the drifting blue and green shapes within the Wolfwood.

  ‘They are the most purely magical creatures in all Ireland,’ said Tealtaoich. ‘They are believed to have served the first sorcerers of all and to have accepted the guardianship of every Wolfprince and princess ever born in Ireland. But although they nearly always serve the Wolfkings in times of war, they are greedy and merciless for the souls and the seed of Men. They live beneath the ocean in the water caves and they will try to lure you to the cold silver Court of their own King, the Elven Aillen mac Midha.’ Tealtaoich regarded Floy with faintly malicious amusement. ‘To try to follow the sidh’s music, or to try to see the sidh fully and clearly, is certain death,’ said Tealtaoich. ‘Remember that, Floy.’

  ‘I shall not forget,’ said Floy, but he glanced back to the shimmer of turquoise beyond the trees.

  Dian Cecht, who had been eating the food with regal disdain, said, ‘It may not be the sidh that Floy is seeing,’ and turned on Floy her sombre dark eyes.

  ‘No?’

  ‘Perhaps Miach has already summoned the Tree Spirits,’ said Dian Cecht.

  ‘I devoutly hope he has not? said Tealtaoich with a shudder. ‘I cannot imagine anything nastier than seeing the entire Wolfwood wake and surge in upon us.’

  ‘Tealtaoich would tell you that the Tree Spirits are dangerous,’ said Dian Cecht, composedly to Floy, and Tealtaoich at once said, ‘I most certainly should'

  ‘But of course, Miach will know how to control them,’ said Dian Cecht.

  ‘After he has summoned them, that is.’

  ‘Naturally.’ Dian Cecht regarded Tealtaoich with surprise. ‘Miach is perfectly capable of calling up a few dryads and hamadryads. They will be extremely helpful to us in the battle.’

  ‘Battle?’ said Floy suspiciously. ‘What battle?’

  ‘Nuadu Airgetlam is going to rally us all to mount an attack on Tara,’ said Dian Cecht, as if this had all been discussed and agreed, and as if Floy ought to know all about it.

  ‘In fact,’ said Oisin, ‘the battle plan is almost ready. Isn’t it, Nuadu? All that remains is for us to summon our creatures.’

  But Nuadu only said, as if his mind was somewhere else, ‘I have been thinking that there are other ways of fighting the Gruagach than riding full pelt down the hillsides.’

  ‘Really? What had yo
u in mind?’ asked Oisin, leaning forward eagerly.

  ‘Oh, perhaps the sending in of a little decoy,’ murmured Nuadu, ‘something to distract the giants.’ And as Oisin looked at him rather sharply, ‘I believe the giants are very partial to Humans,’ said Nuadu thoughtfully, and smiled the wolfsmile.

  Oisin started to say something, but was interrupted by Dian Cecht who was still talking about the Tree Ritual. ‘Miach thought it would be useful, you see. He has half completed the Ritual already.’

  ‘I don’t trust the Trees,’ said Tealtaoich and, farther down the table, Clumhach looked up and said ‘Trees? What Trees? Is somebody going to call up the Trees? My word, there’s a weighty undertaking. My word, I don’t like the sound of that.’

  ‘You see?’ said Tealtaoich softly.

  ‘Trees?’ said somebody a bit farther along — Floy thought it was Feradach. ‘Did I hear somebody say something about the Tree Awakening Ritual? Dear me, it must be centuries since anybody tried that? Does it still work?’

  ‘Rituals don’t lose their efficacy just because they haven’t been used for a few centuries,’ said Miach, rather huffily, and Feradach said well of course not.

  ‘I suppose we know what we’re doing, do we?’ put in Eogan.

  ‘Yes … does Nuadu Airgetlam know we’re going to summon the Trees?’ said Clumhach, and looked to Nuadu as he said this, and Floy received the strong impression that for all Nuadu’s brusque manner, and for all his gentle malice, these people still regarded him as their leader. Because he possessed the ancient wolfblood they seemed to set so much store by? Yes, perhaps.

  ‘My children,’ said Nuadu Airgetlam fondly, ‘I know all about little Miach’s games and I know all about the Tree Awakening Ritual. I derive immense enjoyment from it. Miach is welcome to call up the Trees,’ he said.

  Somebody else said they would be safer with the sidh than the Trees, and somebody else said that you could no more trust a dryad than you could trust one of the Gruagach, which was saying quite a lot.

  ‘But they’ll be on our side,’ put in Miach. ‘Nuadu, tell them that the Trees will be on our side.’