The Lyre Dancers

by Mandy Haggith

  Fin volunteered to do some digging. Badger and Kino too. Even Donnag.

  The Wren got slowly to her feet and everyone fell silent. She had a piping, strangely musical voice. ‘We need a ceremony to cleanse us of all this grief and evil and confusion.’ Then she sat down again.

  Everyone was quiet.

  Rian became aware of Ussa, still staring at the stone, transfixed. She had nodded at what Manigan said earlier about its faces changing, but had otherwise been motionless, as if she herself had turned to stone. With a shudder, she prised herself up from her stool like an old woman and after one long look at the stone she shuffled out of the broch door, without a word to anyone.

  Alasdair said. ‘How about a fire on the split rock? There’s not been one since I was a boy.’

  TELLING

  The next morning, breakfast was being taken in dribs and drabs. Rian sat by the fire, doling out porridge as people got up. Fin, who had gone out early with his monkey, burst in and announced that the boat Sgiannach was coming into the bay.

  Manigan, Badger and Kino headed out to see, and before long, there were more voices, including Eadha’s, distinctly saying, ‘Where is she? Can I see her?’

  Rona must have been able to hear him from upstairs, because she began calling out, ‘I’m here. I’m here.’

  Rian got up from the hearth and shut the door at the bottom of the staircase with a bang, then returned to her stool. The Wren, who was sitting close by, raised her eyebrows at Donnag, but said nothing. Fin joined Soyea in a shadowy corner, on a deerskin on the floor.

  Manigan came in first, leading a big, rumbling-voiced seaman who introduced himself as Aonghas, an old friend of Cuilc. A youth shadowed him in. ‘And this is Mac,’ Aonghas said. Behind him was Eadha, looking about with darting eyes, and then an elegant, dark haired woman.

  Rian got up again. She recognised them all from the handfasting, including Ishbel, who had led the ceremony then with grace and style, but who now seemed shifty and on edge.

  Rian showed Aonghas to a bench by the wall, the boy to a mat close by, and nodded to the priestess, indicating a seat near the fire. She studiously ignored Eadha, who remained standing, placing himself between Ishbel and the door, like a guard.

  The staircase door opened a crack, and then a bit more, and then Rona was flying into the room, charging across towards the entrance. Badger caught her as she passed but she wrenched her wrist free of his hand. Then Kino got her by one ankle, and as she toppled, Manigan grabbed her around the waist. She kicked and bit and wriggled, but he got his other hand on the scruff of her neck.

  ‘Get yourself back up there.’ Manigan pushed her towards the stairs.

  ‘Let her stay.’ It was Ishbel’s voice, like two stones hitting together. ‘She needs to hear what I have to say. It affects her most of all.’

  Manigan stopped pushing, but didn’t take his arm from around Rona’s waist, or off the scruff of her neck, so she continued struggling. She was half choked by him with her wriggling, but it was to no avail. He turned her so she could see some of the room, and looked over at Rian with exasperation on his face. Rian rolled her eyes in response and raised her hands. What could they do?

  Rian watched the new arrivals. Eadha’s eyes were pinned on Rona, a look of pleading and encouragement in them. He didn’t look as worried as Rian expected. Rona had stopped straining so hard against her father’s hold. Ishbel’s watchful gaze tracked between the two youngsters.

  Rian offered drinks all round and soon everyone had a cup in their hand. Rian looked to The Wren to make a blessing, but she deferred to Ishbel, who in turn insisted that The Wren should thank the Goddess. After all this politeness everyone was grateful simply to drink.

  Rian sat down next to Ishbel on a low bench. She urged Soyea and Fin to come closer to the fire but they indicated that they were fine where they were, against the wall. Buia was also on the floor in the corner by the cellar, Donnag fiddling with clay beside her.

  Ishbel shuffled along and patted the seat beside her. ‘There is room for Rona on this bench,’ she said. ‘Beside her mother.’

  As Manigan let her go she almost fell forwards. She squeezed in between Rian and Ishbel, seeming awed by everyone watching her. Soyea gave a concerned lift of her eyebrows, as if to ask if she was all right. In response Rona put on a brave smile and raised her chin.

  Once Manigan had sat down beside Badger, Rian said, ‘So, Ishbel, what is it that you have to say?’

  But before she could begin there was another man’s voice, and Alasdair bowed through the doorway. Manigan stood up and offered his seat.

  ‘Alasdair, welcome,’ said Rian. ‘We’ve more guests as you see. Aonghas from Rum and Ishbel from the Winged Isle, and they bring news, apparently, so you may as well join us to hear it.’

  Alasdair sat down and Manigan joined Eadha in the shadows by the door. All eyes once again returned to Ishbel.

  Rian gestured with an open palm. ‘So, Ishbel.’

  With the crowd’s attention on her, her words at first came in no more than a whisper. ‘I’ve little to say,’ she began. ‘But before I say it, I want to ask forgiveness…’

  ‘Speak up,’ said Alasdair. ‘What are you asking?’

  ‘Forgiveness,’ she said, more clearly.

  ‘Ach, we’ll decide if you need that.’ He laughed, and Badger and Kino chuckled too. Rian frowned at them.

  ‘Don’t be frightened,’ The Wren piped up. ‘We all want to hear your story.’

  Ishbel took a breath. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. As some of you have discovered, Rona’s mother-in-law Cuilc was Rian’s mother.’

  She paused, as if to allow this fact to hit home to anyone who had not heard the rumour. But of course everyone had.

  Rian’s heart sank into her belly. She felt utterly sick. Rona’s head slumped forward onto her chest. Ishbel put a hand lightly on her thigh.

  ‘We buried her, Eadha and I, before we set out here. She wore this all of her life.’ She held up a bracelet, a mixture of leather and silver and an orange-coloured stone, then offered it to Rian. ‘I think you should have it.’

  Rian held it between thumb and forefinger as if it might be dangerous. The stone in it was unmistakably amber.

  Ishbel didn’t wait for her to speak. ‘Some of you have, quite rightly, been worrying that Rona here and Eadha are too closely related for bearing children. But I can set your minds at rest.’

  Rian glanced up from the bracelet to Ishbel. Her heart was pounding.

  ‘Rian was not her only secret. Eadha was the other one. I must now make public what I have already confessed to him. Although Cuilc loved him dearly, she was not Eadha’s mother.’

  She paused again, but only for a moment, then pointed her finger at her heart. ‘I am.’

  Rian looked across to Eadha. There was, now she looked, a resemblance between them. Their big-boned faces and sharp chins were similar in shape.

  Rian reached for Rona’s hand as Ishbel continued talking.

  ‘His father was Callum, Cuilc’s husband’s little brother. So Eadha is Luachair’s nephew, so he still has the bloodline to lead the Clan of the Winged Isle. But he’s not your brother, Rian. He’s not even remotely related to you.’

  Rian let the bracelet fall into her lap and clutched Rona’s hand. She turned and saw relief flooding her daughter’s face.

  Ishbel went on. ‘The union of these two youngsters is still perfect, and their child, although not Cuilc’s grandchild, would still be her great grandchild through Rian’s line. So they still unite the two clans.’

  Rona switched her gaze to Eadha. He stepped forward to take her other hand, standing behind her and Ishbel. ‘I’m very pleased not to be your uncle.’

  ‘How do we know this is true?’ Rian said.

  Ishbel nodded. ‘I don’t know how to persuade you other than by telling the truth. I loved Callum, we were crazy for each other. But he drowned three months before I came to term. I was carrying the baby in secre
t, because we weren’t handfasted. I wasn’t what the family expected in the way of a wife – Luachair wanted his little brother to make a good political marriage.

  ‘When Callum drowned, I was mad with grief and Cuilc found out. I agreed to give Eadha to her, for she was desperate for a child and Luachair had been threatening to throw her out for barrenness. She pretended to be in the last stages of pregnancy for those three months and I hid away. Perhaps, after she had you, the guilt of it meant she couldn’t bear another baby. Maybe it was Luachair that was the problem. Anyway, I was so young. I didn’t want the responsibility of a child, or so I thought, and although I’ve loved the boy and tried to do what I could to help him growing up, I’ve kept the secret until now.’

  ‘So there is no incest?’ Manigan said.

  ‘No. The man he thought was his father was actually his uncle, so that line of the family still runs through him. But he has no blood link to Cuilc at all.’

  ‘Thank goodness.’ Rian buried her face in her hands and gave a huge sigh, then took Rona’s hand again.

  There were more questions, but Rian no longer cared. It was enough to look at Ishbel and Eadha and know that they were mother and son.

  Everyone was talking at once and Rona was beside herself, clambering off the bench into Eadha’s embrace, babbling. ‘I knew it, I knew all along. I want to shout, I want to dance!’

  The Wren stood and somehow the babble of side-chat stopped. She was tiny, and it was not clear what this little old woman did to gather the attention of everyone in the room, but she managed it.

  ‘Alasdair should speak,’ she said.

  Everyone looked to the big man.

  He bowed to The Wren, then stood with his hands on his hips. ‘I’m not sure what the significance of all this is, but if you’ve finished deciding whose mother is whose, I’d like to suggest we go back to the business of Bael.’ Heads nodded, and so he continued. ‘I’ve spoken with Eilidh and the village folk, and I’ve sent word to my brothers and I expect they’ll be here soon. It seems to me – and everyone else seems to be in agreement – that we need a ceremony to move on from all the strife in this house and to settle the area generally. We should do it on the split rock.’ He seemed to be addressing himself primarily to The Wren.

  She nodded. ‘Give the body to the air and the ill-gotten gains to the water.’

  ‘You mean burn him?’ asked Manigan.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘And his hoard?’

  ‘Dump it in the sea,’ said Alasdair.

  ‘Offer it to the ocean as propitiation,’ The Wren corrected him. She pointed to Ishbel. ‘You may not be aware, Alasdair, that Ishbel is the Priestess of Brigid’s Cave.’

  Alasdair gave a bow. ‘I was not. You’re most welcome.’

  The Wren went on. ‘There is no one who understands the spirits of the edges as well as she does – the edge of land and sea, the boundary between life and death. Will you help us with the ceremony?’

  Ishbel nodded. ‘I can guide people along and across the borderlands. But this is your place. You should lead, together with Alasdair, as chief. The spirits will only listen if it is the people of this land who are asking them for help. But I can play the lyre. The spirits of the shore and of the borders to the other worlds will recognise my tunes. I hope we can include Cuilc in the ceremony in some form, as her spirit also needs to be guarded in her passage west. Eadha and I brought some tokens of hers, which I would ask to be built into the pyre. And those two should dance, I suggest.’ She pointed to Eadha and Rona.

  Everyone looked at them as she explained that they had been preparing for months. ‘They have an energy when they dance that will open a channel between the worlds. It will please the spirits.’

  Soyea got to her feet. ‘Perhaps we can also remember Danuta,’ she blurted, then sat down again.

  ‘Yes, please let’s,’ Rian said.

  Alasdair nodded. ‘That’s decided then.’

  Rian turned to Rona and for the first time in what felt like an age, she was able to let a hint of approval come into her stony face.

  More drinks were offered and a hubbub of conversation swelled as everyone took in what they had heard.

  Rian was reeling from what Ishbel had told them. She swayed on her seat and looked at Manigan across the room, focusing her gaze on the fixed point of his eyes. Nothing else in the room could be trusted. The spectre of incest had evaporated, the threat of Bael’s violence was gone, but the horror of it all still hung around her like a fog of midges, threatening to suffocate her, tormenting her. There were hidden dangers, invisible again, and change was everywhere.

  All the other people were stirring, talking, shuffling and preparing to go on with whatever was next. But Rian felt unbalanced.

  Rona beside her was being absorbed into the body of the man who had been, briefly, and would perhaps always be, tainted by a curse: the brother who wasn’t her brother after all. Rian was still awash with confusion at their mothering; the deceit of his, the lack of hers. It was an ambiguity that could take a lifetime to adjust to, and her favourite daughter, until so recently her child, was stained by that confusion.

  Meanwhile, Soyea was unrecognisable; a tall priestess who could stab a man to death.

  Rian had gained and lost a mother and in some way both daughters had separated from her in the process. She was alone but for Manigan.

  All she needed now was for her tormentor, Ussa, to walk into this daze, to swoop once more into her world; for her shadow to fall again across the doorway, and for her to stand with golden talons, preparing to devour her. But she did not. Instead, Manigan made his way through the hubbub, and held her upright, when she no longer had the strength to stand.

  RONA

  PREPARE TO DANCE

  We’ll dance tonight. What could be more exciting?

  Eadha, Ishbel and I walk up to the rock where the ceremony will be held. Ishbel is in front, with Eadha and I holding hands behind. We have to cross the beach to get there.

  I’ve not been practicing so I’m nervous. ‘I dread to think what condition I am in,’ I say.

  Ishbel stops. ‘It’ll be fine. Remember no one here knows the detail of the steps. No one will notice if you improvise a little. Only the spirits will see and if your soul is pure and the energy is strong, they will bless you for the personal touch you bring to it.’

  ‘But what if I’m not strong enough?’

  ‘You are strong enough. Anyway, this place will give you all the strength you need.’

  We stand, watching the waves roll in across the smooth blond sand, paler than Eadha’s hair. They foam, then slide back out again.

  ‘Perhaps our separation was destined to bring us together just for this.’ He squeezes my hand. I think of what the Wren said about trusting destiny, and squeeze back.

  ‘The Great Mother has done stranger things,’ Ishbel remarks.

  Hearing her invoke The Mother makes me remember she and Eadha are now mother and son. I can’t see any change in how they are together. Of course, it is not news to her. I suppose she has always been motherly towards him, if a rather strict parent. She is a magnificent person to have as my mother-in-law.

  I am determined to make tonight’s dance as good as it can be, but I’m conscious of having only this dress, and nothing to change into. How can we possibly do justice to it in these rags? ‘It’s a shame we’ve no costumes,’ I say. It can never be the same without the dancing clothes.

  ‘I brought the gear,’ Eadha says.

  I look at him and he’s grinning.

  ‘How did you know we would dance?’

  ‘I didn’t know. I just hoped. I thought we might at least get to practise.’ He looks a bit sheepish. ‘They’re all I have of yours.’

  I love how proud he is when he realises I am delighted. I feel as though I may actually jump for joy.

  A wave foams up the beach and he pulls us back. We stagger about, giggling. He hates the sea and I torture him by making sure we walk a
s close to the margin of the waves as I can drag him, so we have to run back when the big waves come. We’re shouting and screaming with laughter. Ishbel has marched on ahead of us, over the stream, up the bank on the far side of the beach.

  ‘Come on,’ Eadha says. ‘We don’t want to annoy her.’

  He’s right, of course. We run to catch her up and we’re breathless with the steep climb.

  ‘Get used to panting,’ she says as we reach her. She doesn’t look at all put out by our playfulness.

  Soon we’re pacing out the space we’ll use for the dance, working out where we’ll stand, how we’ll bring people in and how big a ring we can make. If everyone wants to join at once, it’ll be chaos.

  This is the most incredible place, a rocky promontory with sheer cliffs down to the sea below. Beyond it there’s a gap, then another chunk of rock that looks as if it has been sliced off into the sea. It is all made of huge slabs that lie at an angle, so we’ll be dancing on a slope. I’m a bit daunted; the dance is hard enough without adding uphill to some of it. We practice the moves that will be challenging. At least it’s grassy, but we’ll have to be careful nobody stumbles over the edge.

  On the way back to the broch we pass a bunch of men hauling wood, presumably for the fire. Father is among them, and Fin, the ghost, who gives me a shy grin. When he smiles he’s not so spooky, but I can’t see what Soyea sees in him. He’s as gangly as a daddy longlegs.

  Eadha only forgot one arm strap of my costume, but now I have the bracelet with the silver-clasped orange-coloured gemstone. It used to be Cuilc’s, then Ishbel gave it to Mother, who has given it to me. She says it is amber. Soyea declares it has magic in it that is right for the night. She is one of the Sisterhood now, so she should know. I am just pleased to wear it for its beauty.

  Soyea dresses in her priestess robe with a white band around her hair, and for the first time ever I can honestly say she looks beautiful.

  There is a debate about how to get The Wren to the ceremony. She is so frail. But she is adamant she doesn’t want to slow the procession. Soyea says she will help her, will carry her there on her back if necessary! The other women pay heed to what she says. I’m proud to be her sister. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that before. Eventually the decision is made that all the women will go first and all the men will come in procession with the body later. Eadha is asked to play a drum for the men, so I must leave him behind. It is almost painful to let go of his hand.