by S A Archer
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Bastion of Magic!
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Books by
S.A. Archer and S. Ravynheart
Scattered Magic
Remnants of Magic
Into Magic
Bastion of Magic
Knights of the Red Branch
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~Enjoy a sample chapter of~
Knights of the Red Branch
{This series begins just prior to the Collapse of the Mounds}
No one needed to tell Sin that another Sidhe had entered the room. All the fey recognized the baring of the Sidhe. They weren’t known as the ‘noble elves’ because of their lineage, but because of the grandeur of their magic. Growing up with them, sparring with them, and even befriending them, didn’t make her immune to their effect.
That was probably why she found Finley so compelling. Nothing to do with real feelings, and everything to do with the light of his magic dazzling her.
But the Sidhe who entered the establishment wasn’t bathed in light magic, that was for certain. Anything but, in fact.
His dark hair was short and wet from the rain, but still stylishly swept back in a handsome and casual way. The coppery hue to his skin was reminiscent of the dark elves, and seemed to glow from within with the firelight. When his hooded gaze impacted her, Sin forgot to breathe. His attention flicked from her, to Finley, and then returned to his men.
Those who accompanied him were all wood elves, as tall and athletic as the Sidhe, but with a shade less brilliance in magic and beauty. The wood elves were all either blond, or honey brunette, because wood elves usually aligned with the Seelie, also known as the light court. But the Sidhe they traveled with was clearly Unseelie. His darker features proved that much.
And for all the Sidhe she’d ever known, she’d never before seen one of the Unseelie.
Her hand slid over to cover Finley’s, and gave it a squeeze. The battles that had raged between the courts were epic. Although the courts only bickered politically during this latest uneasy truce, she knew much of the reason that fighting had subsided was that the Seelie and the Unseelie avoided each other. Even knowing Finley was a superb fighter, he’d never faced a mature Sidhe enemy. Besting the other students and holding his own against Scathach didn’t mean he wasn’t in grave danger, should this Unseelie decide to start trouble.
The pressure of his fingers squeezing back conveyed his confidence.
Sin wasn’t so easily reassured.
The Brownie woman didn’t fuss quite so much over the new arrivals. She had to put her shoulder into the door to close out the wind that rippled the clothing and hair of the travelers. Only when the storm was shut out did she run her hands through her ruffled hair and offer them provisions. The men accepted the offer, and then made their way towards the fire.
Sin’s grip tightened as the wood elves and their Sidhe leader swept amused glances over her and Finley, before taking the table next to theirs in an otherwise nearly empty tavern. The fire might have explained their choice, but from the looks of them, she suspected it was only an excuse.
Finley gave her one last squeeze, then slipped from her grip. He didn’t cast down his eyes from them, evaluating them just as openly as they did him. It didn’t matter that he was outnumbered, even if he counted Sin as his backup. The Seelie in him wouldn’t be cowed.
The new comers took up significant space without even speaking much among themselves. The rustle of their clothing and the rumble of the chairs as they pulled them out disturbed the peace of the tavern, making it feel too small to contain them all. The weight of their very presence consumed the air.
Finley’s bow and quiver leaned against the pack at his feet, within reach. Without seeming to move, he shrugged the blanket from his shoulders, letting it drape over the back of the chair and freeing the short swords strapped to his back.
As the wood elves removed their jackets, they revealed the sleek black leather holsters about their shoulders and hips. They hadn’t armed themselves with the traditional weapons of the fey, but with the deadly firearms of the humans.
Sin wanted to curse, but choked it back.
Whatever masculine display that was passing between the wood elves and Finley seemed to conclude with the arrival of their food and pints of whatever it was they were drinking.
Why were a bunch of wood elves running with an Unseelie anyway? Sin leaned over as she sipped broth from her mug, never taking her eyes from any of them.
While the wood elves ate, and Finley pretended interest in the stew he shoved around with the spoon, the Unseelie pulled his chair closer to the fire. He didn’t bother with the food, instead leaning his elbows on his thighs and holding his open hands towards the glowing heat. His voice was deep and melodic. Even speaking softly his words silenced the wood elves. “It’s a shame to waste such a friendly hearth. We should share tales with our fellow fey on such a lovely evening.” He didn’t look at the elves that he addressed, but at her and Finley. “Don’t you agree?”
Given that the evening was less than lovely, and the company anything but friendly, Sin could only imagine what tales this man wanted to tell.
Finley nodded with all appearance of friendliness. “And who is our bard for this tale? Will you entrust us with your name?” A very Seelie way of asking that question.
“I am called Taranus Durant,” the Unseelie answered without hesitation. “I, and my wood elf companions, hale from Kielder Grove.” Taranus tilted his head as he fixed his dark gaze on Finley. “And yourselves?”
“Finley Connelly and my companion is Sin, of the Shoney.” He replied without blinking, and without adding where they were from.
It didn’t matter, because Taranus already seemed to know that answer. “And you would be from that school on the Isle of Skye.” He seemed satisfied by Finley’s silence, turning his face and hands towards the hearth again. The fire seemed to reflect in his dark eyes and shimmer on his skin. “What tale should I tell to the students from the illustrious Red Branch School?” He seemed to ask his companions, but none of them responded, more focused on listening to him than eating now.
Taranus pushed himself back, propping his feet on the fireplace as if his mind’s eye traveled back to the time of his tale. “Since before the weaving of the Great Veil, even before the Romans swept over the British Isles, a feud had raged between two sisters. Scathach, who was Unseelie, and Aoife, who was Seelie. In all things, they were rivals. Both warriors, with Scath possessing the aspect of battle and Aoife the aspect of prophecy. They would clash on the battlefield for days, with Aoife’s visions always giving her the ability to counter all of Scath’s attacks. So much so that if the battle didn’t end in a stalemate, Aoife would triumph.”
Listening to the start of the story, Sin stopped eating. Scath never spoke of the past with them, especially not her own history. They all knew she’d lived and fought for thousands of years before any of her current students were even born. What struck her most bluntly was the claim that Scath herself was Unseelie, when the school trained only Seelie youth. How much of this dark Sidhe’s tale could be true?
“Young warriors, craving the skill and knowledge of these great women, petitioned to tra
in at their heels. The sisters’ rivalry expanded to their students, as the competition shifted to who could train the best knights. Each built a school for warcraft to train the Sidhe youths of their court. The battles that often raged between the Seelie and Unseelie became rivalry matches between the knights of each order. It was this way for millennia.” Taranus watched the crackling fire before him, not seeming to notice the rapt attention of his audience.
“One young man was destined to break this cycle. The great Champion of the Sidhe, Lugh, fathered an illegitimate son.” Taranus slid a glance towards them, a hint of something dark and amused in his expression. “The Champion was as skilled with battle as he was with politics, and his negotiations with the queen of the wood elves gave her the child. Something her husband wasn’t too pleased with, made more so since she’d never bore him any children of his own.”
Sin refused to look away, even though Taranus now watched her as he continued. “But Lugh couldn’t claim the child. You see, a half-Sidhe is no Sidhe at all. The boy was more gifted than any of his wood elf kin, his own skill in fighting outmatching all others before even his tenth year. The wood elf king feared the boy, whose beauty and power rivaled all others of the grove. So he sent Lugh’s son away, not to Aoife’s school for the Seelie, since Lugh himself was a Seelie, but to Scathach’s Red Branch School for the Unseelie. But, as I said, the school was to train Sidhe youths. And a half-Sidhe, is no Sidhe at all.” Taranus leaned forward, fixing Sin with his attention until she felt she could not breathe. “But there is a way for those who are not Sidhe to join the school, isn’t there?”
“The Bridge of Leaps,” she whispered. That had been how she’d earned entry. “The bridge is actually a lever. If you try to cross it, the far end lifts up and drives you back. If you try to leap across it, landing on the far side, it tips the other way and drops you down the steep ravine. You have to leap out just right, landing perfectly on the balance point, and then make the second leap to the far side, landing against the castle wall.”
A hint of a smile that was too satisfied to be friendly pulled at his lips. “Exactly so. And it was in just this fashion that Cu Chulainn earned his way into the Red Branch School.”
Sin turned towards Finley, seeing the tightness in his jaw. That was a name they knew. Cu Chulainn had been the best warrior Scath ever trained, and had been her favorite. So much so, the mural in the great hall where the students ate their meals depicted Cu Chulainn in battle, with war hounds about him, because that had been his nickname since he was a child. And Finley, who looked so like the mural, was often compared to him.
Taranus watched Finley now, as if seeing the reminiscence of Cu Chulainn in him as she did. “Scathach favored the young man. He was not yet even twenty when Aoife and her knights marched on the school. Fearing that her sister would slay Lugh’s son, Scath slipped him a sleeping draft, but the effects only lasted an hour and he joined the battle against her wishes.”
Only the sounds of the storms and Taranus’s voice could be heard in the tavern, as everyone now listened. It was the sign of a good storyteller, but Sin felt the weight of each word. This wasn’t some random story. Taranus was building towards something.
“For a moment, it seemed Scath’s fears might come true, when Aoife struck Cu Chuliann’s sword and shattered the blade to the hilt. It wasn’t through skill, but through trickery, that Cu Chulainn became the first to ever defeat Aoife. Knowing her love of her horses, he cast a Glamour that made her think that they had been slain. Aoife hadn’t seen the disaster coming, when she’d always foreseen the progress of a battle. It so disturbed and startled her, that she dropped her guard just long enough for Cu Chulainn to subdue her. With a knife to her throat, he forced her to declare an end to the warfare between the schools.”
The dancing shadows from the firelight seemed to leap about them like the shades of the past, sending shivers down Sin’s spine.
“Aoife was fascinated by Cu Chulainn, the man she’d not foreseen. They soon became lovers and it was then that her fate changed. When she became pregnant with his son, the shadows opened from her mind’s eye. No longer did she see just moments ahead in time, but the future itself yawned its great mouth and she was cast down its gullet. She foresaw her lover’s death at the young age of only thirty-seven. And she knew before he died, he would mistake their son for an enemy and slay him. Even forewarning him of this vision didn’t prevent the very event from occurring.”
Sin couldn’t imagine the torment of that knowledge. It choked her, to think of Finley living such a short and tragic life as hero he so resembled.
“But Aoife’s visions did not end there.” Taranus turned from the fire so half his face was shadowed, even though the firelight reflected in both of his eyes. “She foresaw something so horrendous, that she turned from the Seelie Court. She proclaimed that if Manannan Mac Llyr was to ever become king of the Seelie that he would force the unification of the Seelie and Unseelie Courts, which would cause the Mounds, the very realm of the fey, to collapse.” Taranus shook his head. “But the Seelie refused to believe this prophecy. Scath, who blamed Aoife for Cu Chulainn’s death, abandoned the Unseelie when they embraced her sister and her proclamation of doom. Manannan himself lured Scath to his cause, which she took up as her own just to spite her sister.”
Taranus rose slowly to his feet so the shadow of him cast over both Sin and Finley. “Manannan became king of the Seelie Court almost a hundred years ago. And Scath, at his bidding, reopened her school after all these centuries.” He planted his hands on the far side of the table, and glared down at the two of them. “For the future of the fey, and for the preservation of the Mounds, I want to know why.”
###
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Names and their pronunciations
Aoife: pronounced ‘Ee-fa’
Artemis: Pronoucned ‘Art-ah-muss’
Cormac: Pronounced ‘Kore-mack’
Credne: Pronounced ‘Kred-nah’
Crom: Pronounced ‘krom’
The Dagda: Pronounced ‘Dag-da’
Danu: Pronounced ‘Dan-oo’
Dione: Pronounced ‘Dhe-own-E’
Druantia: Pronounced ‘Drew-ant-e-ah’
Freyja: Pronounced ‘Frey-ah’
Heimdall: Pronounced ‘Hime-Doll’
Jhaer: Pronounced ‘Ja-hair’
Jonathan Wyndracer: Pronounced Jonathan ‘wind-racer’
Kie: Pronounced ‘Key’ (nickname for Kieran)
Kieran: Pronounced ‘Kear-an’
Lugh: Pronounced ‘Loo’
Manannan: Pronounced ‘Ma-na-nan’
Rhiannon: Pronounced ‘Re-on-nan’
Taliesin: Pronounced ‘Tail-see-in’
Tamara: Pronounced ‘Ta-mar-ah’
Tiernan: Pronounced ‘Tear-nan’
Glossary
Aesir: Pronounced “A-seer”. These giants are the ruling race of the Nordic realm and were once worshiped as gods by the vikings.
All-Mother: A title given to Danu respectfully acknowledging her connection to all fey connected to the Mounds.
Artifacts: The objects from the first realm of fey that contain the magic blueprints for creating a new fey realm. Also called ‘relics’.
Asgard: The home of the Aesir, the ruling race of the Nordic realm.
Aspect of magic: In addition to the Touch and the common magics (Glamour and teleportation), each Sidhe possesses a single aspect of magic, which dictated how their personal magic will manifest. For example, Lugh’s aspect of magic is ‘the sun’.
Beast: Refers to the splinter personality within Lugh that takes over during the Eclipse. Usually
visualized as a panther.
Beltaine Fires: The Spring festival of fertility celebrated since the Middle Ages.
Bifrost: The portal which connects the Nordic realm to the earth realm.
Bloodhound: Refers to the Sidhe aspect of magic that can sense and manipulate the magic of others.
Brownies: A type of fey known for being secretive and shy, but very helpful domestically.
Champion: A title given to respectfully acknowledging someone’s role as defender and ambassador for the their race with other races.
Changeling: A type of fey that can shape change and that has a reputation for being self-serving and vicious.
Collapse: Refers to the recent destruction of the Mounds.
