The abbess left and returned to her office. I found Brogan and told him about the gate and what Riona thought she had seen. He sent men right away to secure the gate with locks and chains.
I started out the front gate to go to my grandmother’s house to ask her to help spread the news to all the druids of the region. Eithne was there waiting for me.
“Six,” she said, holding up all the fingers of her right hand and one on her left. “Six nuns. They were my friends, Deirdre.”
“They were my friends too, Eithne. I don’t have time for this now.”
I tried to step around her, but she moved in front of me and shoved me back.
“Eithne,” I said, trying to control my temper. “You don’t want to start with me.”
“Oh, really? I’m so sorry, Deirdre. Are you busy running off to save us? You seem to be doing a miserable job so far. Or maybe you aren’t really trying at all. I find it a remarkable coincidence that it’s the druids who have been killing these nuns—members of the Order just like you. Could it be that you’re protecting one of your own?”
I punched her hard in the jaw. She stumbled but didn’t fall, then blocked my next punch and hit me in the face. This fight had been building for a long time, and it felt good to have an outlet for all the pain I was feeling. I ran at her and threw her on the ground, but she hit me in the stomach with her knee. I was the daughter of a warrior and she a peasant girl, but she didn’t back down an inch.
I was ready to rip her ears off when suddenly I felt someone grabbing the collar of my tunic from behind. It was Kevin, who in an instant had taken Eithne in the same way and was carrying us both to the nearby water trough. He plunged our heads under and held us there, then pulled us up and did it again. I could barely breathe when he tossed us both on the ground and stood between us.
“Enough!” he shouted.
In all the years I had known him, I had never seen Kevin angry before. The expression on his face brought me to my senses as much as the water.
“We have a madman murdering nuns, and now you two have decided to lend him a hand. I don’t care about your stupid childhood rivalries. Stop this, or I swear by holy Jesus himself I will beat some sense into both of you. Do you understand me?”
We mumbled our agreement and got up off the ground. While Eithne went back to the nuns’ quarters to wash up, I wiped the blood from my face and started out of the gate. Across the yard, I could see Sister Anna standing outside her office. She shook her head and went back inside.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Just off the path to Grandmother’s house, beneath a grove of trees, was a clearing with a spring-fed well of clear, cold water. I didn’t want to show up at her door with my face covered in dried blood, so I walked down the side trail to wash myself.
I had come here many times in my life when I was troubled. It was a favorite place of mine, and was sacred to women from ages long forgotten. There was a crumbling stone altar to an unknown goddess next to the spring and a more recent cross dedicated to our founder Brigid. I was pleased to see that someone had been here recently and placed a wreath of bright spring flowers on the altar and another on the cross. The well wasn’t often visited anymore, and it pained me to see it in neglect.
I took off my robe and knelt by the water, splashing it on my face and scrubbing the dried blood from my mouth. I felt so foolish for having a fight with Eithne in the middle of all that was going on. Kevin was right. There was no time for petty conflicts when a murderer was on the loose.
Kneeling there before the altar and cross, I closed my eyes and prayed:
“Holy saint or goddess, whoever you might be, please help me find the man who is killing my friends. I’m running out of time.”
“Time is always the problem, isn’t it?”
I jumped up so fast at the sound of the voice that I slipped and fell back down on the grass. An old woman was standing behind me.
“I’m so sorry, my dear,” she said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was coming to visit the well and saw you here. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. Do you mind if I sit with you for a moment? My old bones could use a rest.”
I remembered my manners at last.
“Of course. Please have a seat.”
She sat down on a flat stone beside me. I could see that she was very old, more ancient than Father Ailbe. Yet for a moment when the reflection of the sun on the water struck her face, she looked young and beautiful. I rubbed my eyes and she was old again. It must have been a trick of the light.
“I’m glad to have some company,” she said. “Not many people come here any more like they did in the old days. Are you on a long journey?”
“No, I’m just on the way to my grandmother’s house down the road. I’m coming from the monastery at Kildare where I am—or at least I was—a nun.”
“Ah, a sister of the holy fire. I remember Brigid well. She always cared for those poor souls who had nowhere else to turn. A woman like that is truly blessed.”
“You knew Brigid? Are you a Christian, grandmother?”
She smiled as she shook her head.
“No, my child. I have great respect for your god, but I’m afraid I can’t follow him. Personally I don’t think he should have let himself be nailed to that tree, though I have to admire his courage.”
She reached into her small satchel and pulled out a ripe red apple.
“Would you like one, my dear? I’ve been gathering them.”
My eyes grew wide.
“How can you have fresh apples? They’re out of season.”
“Well, you just have to know where to look.”
I took the apple and bit into it. I had never tasted anything so sweet in my life.
“If you don’t mind my saying so, my child,” the old woman said, “you look like someone with the cares of the world on her shoulders.”
I normally didn’t share my problems with strangers, but there was something about this woman that drew me out.
“Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so burdened in my life. I’m sure you’ve heard about the murders of the sisters of Brigid at the monastery. They were wonderful women and they were killed in the most horrible ways. The king has put me in charge of finding the murderers. I thought there was just one and I had caught him, but now there’s another. To make matters worse, my tribe is on the brink of war and my life is falling apart. I became a nun after my son died because I thought it might bring me peace. He was only a year old, so beautiful and full of life. I tried to save him, but I couldn’t. I seem to be a failure as a nun and a druid and a mother. I sometimes think the world would be better off if I had never been born.”
I wiped my eyes on my cloak as the old woman sat silently. She stared at the water for a long time before she spoke.
“My child, I wish I could make all the pain go away. If more years of experience than you can imagine are worth anything, then I will tell you that life is indeed worth living. I’m sure you’ve done far more good than you know, touched many people during your years on this earth, and will touch many more in the time ahead of you. I know you have suffered greatly. There can be no greater pain for a woman than to watch a life she brought into the world pass away. No mother or father or husband can reach so deeply into a woman’s soul. I have borne many children myself and lost most of them as time has passed. You never forget them, never love them less. All I can say is that life does go on and there can be happiness, even joy, mixed with the sorrow of memory.”
I was weeping openly now. The old woman moved closer to me and put her arm around me as we sat side by side. She held me until at last the tears began to ease.
“As for the rest, what has happened to the sisters of Brigid is terrible. For someone to think they bring about good by such sacrifices is blasphemy to all that is holy. But in the end, Deirdre, balance will be restored.”
I wiped my eyes again and stared at her.
“How can you know who I am? Are you a druid? Do you have th
e gift of sight? By what name may I call you?”
She laughed gently and shook her head.
“No, my dear, I would make a poor druid and I’m afraid my sight has faded over the years. Sometimes I can’t even remember my own name. Let’s just say that I have lived a long time. I’ve traveled up and down this island for ages and talked with countless people. I’ve even been to other lands from time to time and seen towering mountains, endless deserts, and turquoise seas filled with beautiful creatures, though it’s the people I remember most.
“But wherever I go, I always come back to this spring. I suppose it feels like home. Pilgrims used to come here from all over this island in the days when the Romans ruled across the sea. But this place was sacred long before then. Before there was sowing and harvesting, when giant red deer roamed these forests, the women of this land used to come here on holy days and sing lovely songs to the spirits of the earth, raising their voices to the sky. It’s so sad to think this spring is in ruin now, fallen like so much in the world.”
“How could you know all this?”
She smiled.
“Oh, they’re just stories from a foolish old woman. Pay them no mind, my dear.”
I started to ask her more, but the smell of smoke suddenly drifted over the spring. She looked at me with sadness and great compassion.
“I’m afraid you must be on your way, my child.”
The smell of smoke was growing stronger and I heard the sound of voices shouting in the distance from the direction of my grandmother’s home. I got up in a panic and began to hurry down the path. At the edge of the clearing, I turned back for a moment, but the old woman was gone.
By the time I got to Grandmother’s clearing, her house was engulfed in flames. I called out for her frantically and tried to go inside, but the heat was so great that it drove me back. I kept calling to her and running around the house until finally I saw a figure lying in the grass by the barn.
It was my grandmother. There was blood all over her face and tunic, but she was alive.
“No! Dear God, no! Grandmother, what happened? Who did this?” I asked frantically as I wiped the blood away.
She wasn’t able to speak at first, but at last she whispered a single word.
“Christians.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Her arm is broken and she has a concussion. The bruises on her face will heal, but the stab wound is deep, piercing her spleen. I’m sorry, Deirdre, but I’m not sure she will live.”
I was in the monastery infirmary late that same morning with Father Ailbe, Dari, and Sister Anna. I had carried Grandmother in my arms back to Kildare. Now she was lying unconscious on one of the beds, with bandages on her head and abdomen. She had a splint fixed on her arm, and her left eye was swollen shut.
Even though I had seen such horrors over the last few weeks, nothing had prepared me for this. I couldn’t believe this was really happening. Surely any moment my grandmother would wake up and insist we were all making a fuss over nothing, then she would jump out of bed and hurry back to her hut. But she didn’t move. The woman who had raised me, loved me, and taught me so much about life was dying, attacked by my fellow Christians. None of this made any sense. My head was spinning and I felt like I was about to faint.
“Is there anything more you can do, Abba?”
“Not at the moment, my child. I’ve performed surgery and stopped the internal bleeding, but she has lost a lot of blood. If you hadn’t been there right away to bring her here, she would be dead. The only thing we can do now is wait and pray.”
“I’m so sorry, Deirdre,” Sister Anna said. “I’ve had my differences with your grandmother, but she is a fine woman. Whoever did this is no true Christian.”
“It must have been a gang of thugs from the eastern clans,” I said. “They attacked a druid because of the murders of their kinswomen. My grandmother was an easy target.”
“Is there anything left of her home?” Dari asked.
“No. It’s just a charred ruin now. They even killed her cow.”
Sister Anna knelt by Grandmother’s bed and prayed, then kissed her on the cheek and stood up.
“The western clans will have already heard about your grandmother,” said Sister Anna. “She is highly respected among them. They won’t let this go unanswered.”
“Saoirse’s Christian clan is just over the plain to the east of the monastery,” I said.
“I imagine it was some of their young men who did this to your grandmother,” the abbess said. “They’re probably preparing for battle now.”
“As we said before, a battle between two clans will quickly lead to full tribal war,” Father Ailbe said.
“Yes,” the abbess replied, “and Kildare sits in the middle of the plain between east and west. If it comes to war, it will happen here. We must prepare ourselves.”
“Are we going to fight for the eastern clans?” Dari asked.
“Of course not,” Sister Anna said. “But we are going to defend ourselves. The king will withdraw his men from here to fight if war comes. We must be ready to hold these walls on our own. Dari, go tell the sisters and brothers to arm themselves. I don’t want us to kill anyone, but I will not let this monastery be destroyed.”
Dari and Sister Anna left. I sat down next to Grandmother’s bed with Father Ailbe and held her hand. She looked so frail. I had lost my father before I was born and my mother when I was a young child. My grandmother had raised me and was the only family I had ever known. The thought of losing her was terrifying.
“Deirdre, there’s nothing more you can do for her,” Father Ailbe said. “I promise I’ll take good care of her and send word if anything changes.”
“How can I leave her, Abba?”
“I know it’s hard, but your grandmother would be the first to say that you have important work to do. Many people are going to die if war comes—and you may be the only one who can stop it.”
I nodded and wiped my eyes.
“I should go to the western clans and try to talk them out of retaliating, if it isn’t already too late. They might listen to me. What do you think is going to happen?”
He sighed deeply.
“My child, I wish I knew. It’s like the story of Pandora’s jar. Once evil has escaped into this world, it’s very difficult to get it back under control. War and hatred feed on fear and anger, and there’s plenty of that on all sides.”
“Who do you think will win?”
“No one wins a war, Deirdre. But if I had to guess, I would say the king and the eastern clans will be victorious in the end. However, the cost to the tribe will be so great that we may all end up losing everything.”
I kissed him and my grandmother, put my harp in its case, and left my sword in the infirmary. I then hurried from the monastery toward the stronghold of Brion, leader of the western clans.
As I climbed the path and came at last over the highest point on the trail, I saw smoke rising in the valley below me and knew that I was too late. I heard the wailing of women in the distance and started to run. In a large field beyond the forest in the valley, I saw a sight I will never forget. There were perhaps two dozen men lying on the ground, most dead but a few still barely moving. There had been a battle here not more than an hour ago. It must have been one of the eastern clans on their way west to attack one of Brion’s outlying farmsteads. But the western men must have gotten word of their plans and been lying in wait for them in the forest.
The dead and dying men were all naked, having been stripped of their weapons, jewelry, and clothing by the victors. A few who must have been the leaders had been decapitated and their heads taken as trophies. Everywhere the ground was stained with blood.
The women who had followed the men on the raid were wives, sisters, and mothers, now mourning the fallen and caring for the wounded. There was no time to feel pity or even think. I quickly ran to help a young man who was still alive. An older woman who must have been his mother was kneeling next to hi
m. He had been stabbed in the chest with a spear and had a large sucking wound. His mouth was full of blood as he struggled to breathe, but there was nothing I could do. Mercifully, just as I turned to grab some rags out of my satchel, he rolled his head to the side and died with his eyes wide open.
I moved to the next man, who was lying on the ground while a young woman, probably his wife, knelt over him. She was trying to stop the bleeding from a sword that had slashed his right arm just above the elbow all the way through the bone. She had done a good job, but the wound required a new tourniquet that I applied by twisting a strip of cloth tightly with a stick. I had seen wounds like this before and told her I would need to amputate if he were going to live, though I knew he might die in any case. She nodded numbly and began to build a small fire next to him as I instructed her. If Father Ailbe had been there, he could have given the man a sedative herb and used his saw to take the arm off quickly, but all I had was my knife.
When the fire was ready, I staked his injured arm to the ground with a rope, placed the blade in the fire to heat, and told the woman to hold him down tightly no matter what happened. Hoping the man would stay unconscious, I began to cut through his flesh. He awoke immediately and began to scream. Fortunately, the sword had done most of the work for me so that all I had to do was slice through what remained of the tissue holding his arm to his body. He screamed even louder when I took a bundle of burning sticks from the fire and held them underneath the severed stump to cauterize the wound. I told his wife to keep the tourniquet tight, then I moved on to the next man. I tried not to think about the fact that these may have been the same men who had attacked my grandmother.
By late afternoon, the survivors had been loaded onto carts and taken back to the east. There were not enough people to see to the dead, so they were left unburied in the field. Unable to bear the stench of the rotting flesh on a summer’s day, I walked about half a mile away and sat beneath a willow tree by a stream. In the distance, I could hear ravens flocking to the feast.
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