Getting up from the cot, Pádraig crossed to the doorway, gestured to the ward outside, and said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I have to finish packing.”
Liam walked past him and out of the forge without saying another word.
The young wizard closed the door and stood there with his back up against it, eyes closed, as an immense sadness enveloped him. And when my anam cara finds out about the deal I’ve brokered, she, too, will never have anything to do with me, he realized. We both have lost her, Liam. But mine is the greater loss, since I have now lost both of you.
Birchday - Fox 2nd
Callainn Shire - Ráth Callainn
The bell atop the keep had just begun to toll seven times, denoting the three-and-a-half hour mark into the evening watch, when Pádraig rode through the main gate on a horse borrowed from the stables at the citadel, hunched down in his gray cloak against the cold wind that blew in off the Sea of the Evening.
Word went out swiftly and the newly-appointed journeyman wizard was met at the fort’s forge by his father, Isla the dwarf, the elves, Brynmor and Cadwgawn, and the journeyman wizard, Labhrás.
As Pádraig handed his packsack to Cadwgawn and dismounted, Finbar, noticing the blue mantle, smiled, and said, “The new color becomes you Revered Sir. Congratulations.” Spotting his son’s bruises, though, he quickly frowned and gestured to Pádraig’s face. “Problems?”
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” the young wizard said, waving off his father’s concern, “after I take care of the horse.”
“Who do we need to go after?” Isla asked, scowling deeply.
Although Finbar ignored the dwarf, Brynmor raised a cautioning hand and said, “Steady, there, Dwarf. I know it has been awhile since you have killed anyone and you are getting a bit irritable, but let us listen to the story first.”
The Captain of the Cruachanian Defense Forces, who was the acting garrison commander, had just joined them. He motioned to one of his soldiers. “Here, Revered Sir. My man will take care of your mount. You’ve had a long ride.”
“Thank you, Captain. You’d best come in with us. The update I have concerns you, as well.” Noticing a soldier wearing a dark-green tabard, with the insignia of a captain on his shoulder, who had come up behind the acting garrison commander, Pádraig beckoned to him. “You, too, Captain. What I have to say will also be of some interest to the Eastern Shires.”
Once inside the forge, with everyone sitting, and the fire stoked, Pádraig outlined the Articles of Capitulation, agreed to by King Ríoghán.
When he had finished, Finbar asked, “And Prince Liam has agreed to marry the Princess Teagan?”
The young wizard pointed to the bruises on his face and replied, “Not exactly, but, for the good of the Confederation, he’ll do as the High King asks. The wedding’ll be held on Mid-Spring Day.”
Brynmor raised an eyebrow. “What about the Lady Máiréad, the prince’s current betrothed? Was not her marriage to the prince scheduled for Mid-Spring Day? Has she also signed on to this?”
“She doesn’t yet know,” Pádraig answered, after a slight hesitation. “Ríoghán has sent his younger sister, Princess Fionnuala, up to Cathair Béarra with a military escort to fetch her, Teagan, Queen Radha, and some other functionaries. They will all be told upon arriving at Ráth Gabhrán.”
“Tuh be a fly on that wall, laddie,” Isla said, with a chortle.
The Captain of the Security Forces of the Eastern Shires spoke up. “This Reconciliation Commission, Revered Sir. How, exactly, is it going to work?”
“Master Odhran is dead. King Cabhan is dead. The Countess Kyna is dead. I assume that you have the other main perpetrators, Earl Eógan and the Revered Murchú, in custody.” When no one replied, Pádraig looked up and surveyed the company. “Well? Don’t you?”
“I’m afraid they both met with tragic accidents, laddie,” Isla said, trading quick glances with Labhrás, before looking, innocently, at the young wizard. “Yuh dinna need tuh be concerned with them.”
Pádraig held up a hand. “I don’t want to know. But it’s probably all for the best. Since we can’t imprison every member of the Security Forces of the Northern Shires nor the wizards who took part in the uprising, those persons who were not principals in the rebellion will need to admit their actions, apologize for them, and swear allegiance to the Confederation.”
“That’s it?” the Captain of the Cruachanian Defense Forces said. The incredulous tone of voice betrayed his personal sentiments.
“This marriage between Liam and Teagan is supposed to bury the war-axe, so to speak,” Pádraig told him. “Believe me, it’s the only way to end this rebellion peacefully and, we all hope, permanently.”
“So, no one pays a price?” Brynmor asked in disbelief.
Pádraig sighed. “Not entirely.” He looked over at Labhrás. “What is the first tenet of wizardry?”
The journeyman wizard from Béarra Shire bowed his head and replied, softly, in the language of the ancients, “Seirbhís a Tír agus Rí.”
“Service to Country and King,” Pádraig echoed, in an equally-subdued voice. “Since the violation of that sacred tenet has been deemed as such a serious offense, all journeyman wizards who participated in the rebellion are to surrender their blue mantles and be demoted permanently to apprentice wizards. All apprentice wizards will surrender their red mantles and be demoted to oblate wizards.”
“For how long, laddie?” Isla asked. “Labhrás, here, played a vital role in our overthrow of the insurrection.”
“As did Neasán,” the young wizard replied.
“How long?!” Isla asked again.
Labhrás looked up and put a hand on the dwarf’s arm. “He already told us, Isla. It’s permanent.” He proceeded to remove his blue mantle.
“Nae, ’tis not fair!” Isla persisted.
“Let it go,” Labhrás told her. “The first tenet of wizardry is sacred. They could have made its violation a capital crime.”
One-by-one the members of the company exchanged forearm grasps with the demoted wizard and expressed their dismay.
Finally, Pádraig said, “I want you to know that I spoke out against it, but to no avail. Let’s wait until some time has passed, and I’ll petition the Arch-Wizard for a dispensation for both you and Neasán.” He gripped Labhrás’ forearm. “I will not forget, nor will I let anyone else forget your service to the Confederation.”
After a long silence, Finbar asked, “When will these Reconciliation Commissions be held?”
“The announcement will go out after the formal signing ceremony of the Articles of Capitulation and Liam and Teagan’s handfasting. The acting garrison commanders in the Northern Shires will then begin conducting hearings.”
“And where will you go from here, Paddy,” Cadwgawn asked.
“Tomorrow, I’d like to catch a coracle or currach to cross the bay and check in with the Venerable Taliesin and Coinneach. Then, it’s northward the following day to pick up Killian.”
“I’ll see that you get that ride, Revered Sir,” the Captain of the Security Forces of the Eastern Shires said. His troops had been charged with securing the port facilities on the Callainn Shire side of Saltwater Bay.
“May I ride north with you, Revered Sir,” Labhrás asked. “I have a lot of thinking to do; and, now that Sléibhín’s hut has been”—he glanced over at Isla—“vacated, I thought perhaps I’d move in there, temporarily.”
“Yuh are a true friend tuh the dwarfs, Wizard. Yuh’re welcome tuh stay in the Beanntan Fiacaill-Sàbhaidh as long as yuh want,” Isla told him, using the dwarfish name for the Sawtooth Mountains. “And since it appears that the defense forces have everything well in hand here, me and my lads will return north with yuh.”
“You will probably want some company on the long ride home,” Cadwgawn said. “I think my da can spare me for a time?”
Brynmor gave what passed for an elfin smile, as well as an equally-miniscule nod.
&
nbsp; “And you, Da?” Pádraig asked. “Where are you headed.”
“Ráth Báinigh. Back to work. Before we set out looking for you, I had just finished up at Ráth Ceatharlach. By now, there are probably shoes flying off horses’ hooves all throughout the Western Shires.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Pádraig said. “Now that I’m a journeyman wizard, free to function independently and offer my services for hire, how about if I hire myself out to you, until such time as you’re caught up with the workload.”
Finbar rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he said. “Are you any good at being a farrier? I mean, this isn’t like magic, where you just sit on your backside and wave your hand. This is actual physical labor.”
“I’ll have you know, I had the best teacher in all of the three kingdoms,” his son replied.
“Well, then, I’ll give you a try. When you get back from the Sawtooth Mountains with your mule and have checked in with the Venerable Taliesin, meet me at the Ráth Lorg forge.”
Willowday - Fox 3rd
Iorras Shire
True to his word, the Captain of the Security Forces of the Eastern Shires had a currach waiting for Pádraig that morning. The currach had become trapped in the bay when the watergate had been closed.
Both Finbar and Brynmor had accompanied the young wizard to the docks, and after assessing the stability of the boat, decided to take their horses across with them, thus eliminating at least one full day of travel. They would overnight at the Fort Lorg forge. The following morning, they would head to Báinigh Shire before separating, with Brynmor going home to the Tangled Woods and Finbar to the forge at Fort Báinigh.
* * *
The smile on Pádraig’s face faded rapidly when he entered the watchtower. A bed had been made up on the ground floor. In it, the Venerable Taliesin lie there asleep, his skin drawn, as white as the sheet that had been pulled up to his chest. His eyes were sunken, as were his cheeks. Even though it seemed impossible to the young wizard, his master appeared to have lost at least a stone of weight since he had seen him last.
Coinneach gently shook Taliesin by the shoulder. “My brother,” he said, softly. “It’s Pádraig. He’s come to see you.”
Snorting himself awake, the old wizard managed a smile at the sight of his protégé. And in those sunken orbs, a small spark ignited. With the first two fingers of his right hand, he motioned Pádraig over to him. “Come, Revered Sir,” he said, hoarsely. “Come and sit. Regale two old men with tales of your adventures.”
“Old men, indeed,” Coinneach chastised him in jest. “Speak for yourself.”
Although the two master wizards had already heard from Arch-Wizard Faolan, by scry, about the terms of the Articles of Capitulation, prepared by the High King and agreed to by King Ríoghán, Pádraig filled them in with the other details of his trip.
Taliesin smiled. “Friends among the elves, friends among the Daoine Dofheicthe, and, now, friends among the dwarfs. In addition to brokering the peace deal. You have done well, Pádraig. But I couldn’t help but notice that you tread lightly when it came to talking about Máiréad, except for the fact that she was very instrumental in effecting your escape. Although it is pleasing that the two of you have finally managed to put away any hard feelings that remained because of your selection to the Academy, I’m afraid that truce may be short-lived. How do you think she will react when she finds out that she is no longer betrothed to the prince; and, that you are the one who proposed the marriage of Liam to the Princess Teagan?”
“That’s why I’m heading up to the Sawtooth Mountains to pick up Killian, then joining my da at Ráth Lorg. I don’t want to be anywhere near the Central Federal Region when she finds out.”
“Don’t make light of the situation. Eógan is dead. Kyna is dead. Her mentor, Odhran, is dead. And, now, she’ll believe that you betrayed her,” the old man said. “She will hate you for the rest of her life, Pádraig. You know that, don’t you?”
“But if I had the blood of countless soldiers from both sides on my hands because I failed to propose a solution that I believed would prevent a war, I would hate myself for the rest of my life, Venerable Sir,” Pádraig replied.
Taliesin, overcome with weariness, looked up at Coinneach and winked at him. He then patted the young wizard’s hand and slipped off, back into a fitful sleep.
* * *
“It’s been three days,” Pádraig complained in a subdued voice.
The Venerable Coinneach simply nodded his head of snow-white hair.
The two men stood outside the watchtower on the Iorras Shire side of harbor entrance, their cloaks pulled tightly around them.
The young wizard raised his arms in a gesture of futility. “Shouldn’t he be out here, sitting on the ground so that the elements of the earth can recharge his essence more quickly?”
“We spend two sessions daily,” Coinneach assured him. “A half hour, morning and afternoon.”
“It’s obviously not enough. He looks like he’s two feet from his own funeral pyre.”
“You saw him, Pádraig. Right now, he needs his rest.”
Thinking of the Venerable Taliesin, the frail old man he had just left, lying in his bed, emaciated, Pádraig’s eyes teared up. “He…he’s going to make it, though, is…isn’t he?”
Again, Coinneach remained silent.
“Well, isn’t he?” the young wizard demanded. This time the tears trickled down his cheeks. He turned away from the master wizard and wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his cloak.
“I honestly don’t know,” Coinneach said, finally. “I think the situation is entirely in An Fearglas’ hands right now.
Both wizards bowed their heads slightly and touched their foreheads, chests, then their mouths with the first two fingers of their right hands, as they mentally recited the ritual act of submission.
Pádraig turned back to the master wizard. With desperation in his voice, he said, “But he can’t die, Venerable Sir. He just can’t!”
Putting an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, Coinneach said, “We all must die, Pádraig. At some point. I do not know if this is my brother Taliesin’s time or not; but, although we may hope and pray that it is not, do not hold out any false hopes.”
Pádraig took another look at the watchtower, then, once again, faced Coinneach. “I’ll be back as soon as I pick up Killian from the Sawtooth Mountains.”
“We won’t be here. Tomorrow, I’m taking him to his island home. Come see him there when you return. Hopefully, he’ll have recovered somewhat by then.”
“He’s not fit to travel.”
The elderly wizard pointed at his own black mantle. “I’ll make him so. And we’ll take things slowly. Déaglán is providing one of his finest ceremonial carriages, as well as a military escort. The ride on those coaches is fit for a king. Now, go, Pádraig. Leave him to me. We’ll see you in Tulach Shire.”
Oakday - Fox 8th
Central Federal Region - Dúnfort Cruachan
Princess Fionnuala and her escort had left Fort Gabhrán on the morning of Fox Third, arriving at Fortress Béarra on the evening of Fox Fourth, after an overnight stay at Fort Cairbrigh.
Per King Ríoghán’s orders, the captain of the escort had dutifully released all the imprisoned members of the Cruachanian Defense Forces and turned over temporary control of Fort Cairbrigh to their captain. At Fortress Béarra, already under control of the defense forces, the captain-in-charge released the incarcerated members of the Security Forces of the Northern Shires, after assurances from Field Marshal Gormán that his troops would be on their best behavior, while awaiting news of the terms of the Articles of Capitulation.
Ríoghán had been very careful in what he had told Fionnuala about the contents of the articles, giving her only the bare minimum of information she needed to perform her task—fetching Queen Radha, Princess Teagan, Máiréad, their lady’s maids, Chancellor Ultan, and Field Marshal Gormán.
* * *
; Readying the party for travel took a full day in itself, and they rode out of Fortress Béarra on the morning of Fox Sixth, again overnighting at Fort Cairbrigh, and arriving at Fort Gabhrán late in the evening of Fox Seventh.
* * *
On the following morning, Oakday, Fox Eighth, Ríoghán provided Máiréad and her lady’s maid with a coach and a military escort to the Dúnfort Road, where a Confederation escort took over and accompanied the carriage to the citadel.
Only after Máiréad had left Fort Gabhrán did Ríoghán share the remaining details of the Articles of Capitulation with the others, including the agreement that his sister, Princess Teagan, would marry Prince Liam.
Teagan and her mother, Radha, were thrilled when they heard the news. Fionnuala, not so much so.
“So you’ve offered up your sister like some prized animal to be sacrificed at the altar of politics?” she spat out at him, when she had gotten her brother alone.
“In short, yes, Fee,” he snapped back at her. “That’s exactly what I did. And the countless soldiers, whose lives were saved by it, probably think it’s a good idea. Do you want to go announce to them that it’s not right, and that they should, instead, fight and die for a lost cause?”
Fionnuala inspected the floor of the keep at Fort Gabhrán.
“I didn’t think so,” Ríoghán said. “There is something called ‘the greater good’…or, depending on your viewpoint, the ‘lesser evil.’ Just be thankful that I didn’t offer you up to Liam instead of your sister.”
“He would not be happy with me as his wife,” she muttered, still not looking at her brother.
Ríoghán tousled his sister’s hair. “That’s for sure. Now go, Fee, help your ma and Teagan plan this wedding.”
* * *
Máiréad descended from the coach, using the helping hand of the footman as an assist. There, in the ward, she looked around, glad to be back at the citadel, but wondering why her betrothed, Prince Liam, had not shown up to greet her.
The Embers are Fanned in Cruachan Page 39
