by P. C. Cast
“They do now.” My stomach felt sick. An image of my wedding celebration flashed through my mind, and with it came a mental picture of the woman who was a mirror image of my friend, Michelle. As Muse of the Dance she had been exquisite—beautiful and alluring. I didn’t want to think about what the creatures would do to a temple filled with gorgeous women like her.
“Come on.” I stood up. “Let’s go in there and look at that map.” I gestured to the door that led to the library room. “We have to figure out some way to stop them from getting any more women.”
PART III
CHAPTER 1
Alanna rolled the map down and I stood close enough to see it without actually touching it. Our eyes traced a path from Guardian to Laragon Castle. Laragon was a huge structure situated south of the Trier Mountains. The northerly tip of Loch Selkie jutted up to almost divide the land that stretched the distance between Laragon and the Temple of the Muse. The Temple of the Muse had been built on the western bank of the thick Calman River. Following the river south after it joined with the Geal River brought my eyes back to the elaborate structure marked Epona’s Temple. Ufasach Marsh filled most of the area between the Muse and Epona, as did the large Loch Selkie.
“Can we assume the Fomorians are still at Laragon Castle?” Carolan asked.
“If they follow the same plan they used after the destruction of MacCallan Castle, they will have left Laragon and returned to Guardian Castle.” ClanFintan stepped closer to the map and studied it silently before he continued, “But that is, perhaps, because MacCallan Castle was built in such a distant location. It might not have been convenient to their invasion plans for them to use it as a base from which to operate. I have visited Laragon. It is well located, and though it is not as easily defended as this temple, it could be used as a secondary site from which to launch an invasion.”
That didn’t sound good for our side.
ClanFintan motioned to the western side of the map, where MacCallan Castle stood its lonely watch over the B’an Sea.
“By neutralizing MacCallan Castle, they have wiped out the only concentrated threat from the northwest. Very convenient for them, whether they return to Guardian or remain at Laragon.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So, even if they did not remain at Laragon, it was still an excellent strategy to first destroy MacCallan.”
I could tell by the briefing-like tone of his voice that he was trying to take the emotion out of the situation and look at it with objective eyes.
I stepped a little closer, without touching the map.
“Is this map accurate?”
“Yes, the placement of structures and natural landmarks is accurate. But, of course, things appear much closer on the map than in actuality, and the castles and temples are not to scale.” Carolan smiled. “It is a lovely map, but the weaver took artistic license when it came to the structures.”
Personally, I thought it was beautifully done and couldn’t see what difference dressing up the buildings made. Then I remembered that Gene had always been a stickler for detail. Guess borderline obsessive-compulsive tendencies stay consistent in mirror images.
It made me wonder about my mirror image and my own tendencies. (Note to self: think about being less sarcastic. Later.)
I refocused on the map. After the Geal River looped around beneath Epona’s Temple, and continued to the west, it widened into something that looked as if it could rival the Mississippi. South of the river was forestland, and I noticed a structure labeled Woulff Castle nestled amidst the forest, which eventually gave way to more of the sweeping Centaur Plains.
Following the river west, there was a small area labeled the Blue Tors, and then I encountered a huge structure named McNamara Castle situated in the far southwest corner of the map. Like MacCallan, it was near the coast, but it had the added benefit of being smack in the middle of where the Geal River resplit, with one branch renamed Clare, before it dumped into the sea. So, for all technical purposes, McNamara Castle was isolated by water.
“I guess the Fomorians wouldn’t be interested in that castle.” I gestured toward the water-locked structure. “Or probably that one, either.” I pointed at Woulff Castle.
“The forest men of Woulff Castle are mighty archers,” Carolan said thoughtfully.
ClanFintan nodded his agreement.
“And how about that other castle?” I asked.
ClanFintan snorted. “Old McNamara is almost as cantankerous as the wilderness over which he is Chieftain.”
Carolan looked as if he agreed. “He certainly is a land unto his own.”
“Makes an excellent brew of whiskey, though.” ClanFintan sounded appreciative.
“Well, that’s certainly in his favor,” I added.
Alanna looked surprised. “Rhiannon could not tolerate the taste of whiskey. She said it was a common drink.”
“I adore a good single malt.” Ha! All of us looked pleased that my tastes didn’t always run parallel to Rhiannon’s. And I felt my psyche relax a little.
“I take it we don’t have to worry about Fomorians targeting either of those castles.”
They shook their heads.
“Would they send us some warriors?”
Carolan and ClanFintan exchanged glances.
“Woulff can probably be counted on for aid,” ClanFintan said, and Carolan seemed to agree.
“McNamara?” I asked.
ClanFintan shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps, if we made it worth the old Chieftain’s while.”
“How about letting him know he would be helping to save lives?” I realized I sounded disgruntled.
“We can send him word.” ClanFintan didn’t sound very sure of the outcome of the request.
I had a sudden inspiration. “Hey, with that word, be sure to make it clear that the Fomorians are stealing human women, and that they’ve already had a taste of West Coast girls. And they like them. A lot.”
“That would anger him.” ClanFintan smiled.
“Good,” I said. “Just don’t mention the little detail about their aversion to water. And it wouldn’t hurt to emphasize the woman-stealing-raping-and-impregnating point to Woulff, too.”
The four of us smiled at each other in full agreement.
Before we could turn our attention back to the map, two sharp raps sounded on the door to my outer chamber.
“I will see to it,” Alanna said. She kissed Carolan softly on the lips before leaving the room. His eyes followed her hungrily.
Watching them I suddenly felt like I was being a little too voyeuristic, so I turned my attention back to the map.
“I realize I know next to nothing about any of this war stuff, but it seems to me that we need to try and box them in someplace.”
“Guardian Castle could hold off a siege indefinitely. It was built to be self-sufficient and to withstand attack.” ClanFintan studied the map as he spoke.
“I’d like to know how the hell they broke through the castle to begin with,” I mumbled to myself. “Okay, from this map Laragon Castle is very close to the northern end of Loch Selkie. Right?”
“Yes,” Carolan answered.
“How far are the mountains from the castle? They look like they are close.” I felt an idea forming.
“Very near. The southern part of the range ends at the edge of the castle’s grounds.” Carolan’s voice sounded wistful. “It is a beautiful castle, built in a valley filled with green clover and wildflowers. Laragon is where we get our dyes and perfumes. All along the base of the mountains stretch field after field filled with flowers and berries.”
I tried not to get distracted by the lovely image he was painting, and the thought of what it might look like now.
“But Laragon can only be approached from either the east or west. That is, if you’re unable to approach it from over the Loch.”
“Yes.” ClanFintan’s voice sounded as if he had captured the essence of my incompletely formed idea. He stepped up to the map, touching it with sweeping gestures
as he spoke.
“If we could be certain that the main force of the Fomorians was at Laragon Castle, we could surround them from here.” He brought his hand in a trail from Epona’s Temple up past the Muse to the east side of Laragon. “And here.” This time his hand traced a path around the Loch’s left edge to approach Laragon from the west. “And, finally, here.” ClanFintan drew his fingers from the south bank of the Loch, almost directly north of Epona’s Temple, up the middle of the huge lake, to enter Laragon grounds from the south. “Our combined forces could easily surround and entrap them at Laragon. There would be no escape. The castle is well built and conveniently situated, but they could not last through a protracted siege or combined invasion—not like Guardian Castle could.”
“It would work—” Carolan rubbed his chin thoughtfully “—but only if the majority of the Fomorian force was at Laragon. If enough of them remained at Guardian Castle, they could flank us, divide our warriors and destroy us in pieces.”
“So, the trick seems to be to make sure a lot of them need to be at Laragon.” I thought aloud. Suddenly, the idea that had been half-formed in my mind crystallized, like it had been whispered into my subconscious by…well…a goddess. Reluctantly, I spoke the idea aloud.
“I…um…” I cleared my throat, which felt rather thick. “I think I may have a way of getting them interested in being at Laragon.”
ClanFintan and Carolan looked at me respectfully, as if I really might know what the hell I was doing.
“It seems that the main focus of their invasion is to collect women.” I paused, waiting for them to “yep” me. They nodded in agreement. “Do you think they know that the Temple of the Muse is filled with beautiful women?”
“Probably not,” Carolan answered. “It was not until this century that the Muse built a combined temple and school. In ancient times the nine Goddess Incarnates traveled throughout Partholon, instructing young women at each of the major castles.”
It was weird to hear Carolan talk like these were modern times. But, then again, civilization doesn’t necessarily depend on things like dishwashers and computers. After all, they did have wine, toilet paper and jewelry. That’s modern enough for me.
“What do you think the Fomorians would do if they got the idea that there was a temple just to the east of Laragon filled with gorgeous, fertile, nubile women?”
“They would attack that temple.” Carolan’s voice sounded certain.
“And what would they do if they thought the temple was guarded by a troop of centaurs?” I smiled at my virile husband.
“They would come in force to attack the temple.” ClanFintan’s eyes widened as he answered.
“And it would be logical to assume that their force of warriors would use Laragon as headquarters instead of the more distant Guardian Castle.” Carolan’s voice was warm with appreciation. “It is an excellent plan—except how are we going to plant the idea within the Fomorian camp?”
That was the part that made me uneasy, but, once again, I felt a slight subconscious prod. This Beloved of the Goddess stuff might drive me to drink. How unfortunate.
“I think I can do that,” I said slowly. The centaur and the man looked at me like I was Santa Claus.
“How?” they said almost together.
“It’s something that happens during the…dream things.” I sighed again. “The first time it happened was when I saw my dad, I mean, Rhiannon’s dad, that awful night. I knew the creatures were attacking the castle, and I had to warn him. Her dad heard me, kind of. Anyway, he knew what I was saying, and he looked like he could almost see me, or sense me, or something. It happened again the night I traveled to Guardian Castle, twice.” My voice must have reflected the fear I felt in the remembrance, because ClanFintan moved to my side so that I could lean against him. With his arm around me I felt better—not great, but better, and able to continue. “A young girl sensed me. And then there was that…thing. The leader.” I searched my memory for the name, and it came easily to me—like it had been whispered into my mind. “Nuada. He more than sensed me, he knew I was there. And he said he had known I was at MacCallan Castle, too. If I had tried, I know I could have spoken to him. And I know he would have heard me—or at least understood what I was trying to say to him.” A shudder went through my body and I leaned more heavily into ClanFintan’s warmth. “That’s how they’ll know. I’ll tell them.”
“I do not want you to be in danger.” ClanFintan’s deep voice rumbled over my head.
“Didn’t you guys say Epona is a warrior goddess?” I asked, looking at Carolan.
“She is—” Carolan’s gaze met mine “—and Epona makes certain those who belong to her are protected.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but I interrupted him.
“I’m counting on that.” I sounded much calmer than I felt. The sensation of subconscious prodding was back, and I spoke the thoughts that came to my mind. “But we need to hurry. How soon can the combined forces be ready, and how long will it take for them to reach Laragon?”
ClanFintan studied the map before he answered.
“Within five days the majority of the forces can be gathered. With hard marching, we can be in position to attack Laragon in two more.”
“Seven days.” A week had never seemed so short—or so long. “Then I need to start tonight,” I mumbled, more to myself than to my husband.
“Start tonight? What do you mean?” ClanFintan sounded worried.
Carolan saved me the trouble of explaining. “She cannot persuade the leader…”
“Nuada,” I supplied.
“Nuada—” he nodded his thanks and continued his explanation to ClanFintan “—with only one manifestation. She must appear to him more than once, as a taunting vision with which he will become obsessed, until he is compelled to follow her.”
“Is Epona talking to you, too?” I smiled at him.
“It seems she must be,” he replied.
“I still do not like it.” My husband didn’t sound happy.
“Epona will look after her spirit. You will protect her body.” Carolan reached up and put his hand reassuringly on the centaur’s shoulder.
“And I don’t particularly like it, either,” I said. “But this world doesn’t have telephones, or a media that can plaster the facts on the nightly news—so it seems I’m stuck doing things the old-fashioned way. Myself.”
To their credit, they didn’t comment on my otherworldly vocabulary.
“I will be with you every moment.” ClanFintan hugged me tightly.
“As will I,” Carolan seconded him.
“I will, too.” Alanna stepped back into the room. “But what are telephones and the nightly news?”
CHAPTER 2
I laughed and pulled a face at Alanna. “Telephones and the nightly news are very effective demonic forces. Be happy we don’t have them here.”
“I will,” she replied with such seriousness she made me laugh all over again.
Carolan took her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm. “What was the interruption, love?”
Worry creased her forehead, and as she answered she looked back and forth between Carolan and me.
“An illness has broken out in the temple.” She spoke slowly. “Several of your maidens complained last week about not feeling well after returning from a retreat.” Alanna looked apologetically at me. “I did not think much of it. The maidens usually made excuses to stay away from Rhiannon.” I nodded my head in understanding, and she continued, “Then I was so busy, first with the new Rhiannon—” we grinned at each other “—then with the people who poured into the temple, that I gave the maidens’ complaints no credence and admonished them to serve the Goddess with more diligent spirits.”
“I remember you mentioning to me that the girls were playacting, and I said I thought they just needed a break from their babysitting load,” I chimed in.
“Yes, well, it seems we both were mistaken.” The lines over her forehead had become even mo
re pronounced. She turned to her husband. “Many of the maidens are very ill, as are several of the children and old women. They need your attention.” She turned back to me, “And your prayers.”
“Of course, love.” Carolan kissed her on the cheek, and let his thumb brush her worried forehead in a light caress. I could see her relax at his touch.
“I’d better come, too, and see what the heck’s wrong with them.” Alanna looked surprised, but pleased, at my pronouncement.
“You do not wish to attend the meeting with the warriors and explain our plan?” ClanFintan inquired. I loved the way he looked at me—all serious, like he really expected me to want to speak to a room filled with smelly old warriors about stuff I really didn’t understand. Actually, I’d almost rather solve math problems. Almost.
“No, honey.” I tried to look sorry. “You go ahead and explain it to them. I’d better be sure my maidens are okay.”
“If you feel you must, I am certain the warriors will understand.”
Sometimes he reminded me of Worf (as in the Klingon from Star Trek The Next Generation, for you civilians).
“When you finish with your maidens, please be sure to join us. You will be good for the warriors’ morale.”
Now, that I did like. Just like Marilyn Monroe.
“Not a problem.” I tugged on his arm and he bent down for my kiss. “Knock ’em dead, big boy,” I purred. He looked confused, but he returned my kiss, nodded at Carolan and Alanna, and trotted his cute butt from the room.
Attempting my best bad imitation of Madeline Kahn as Lilly VonSchtupp in Blazing Saddles, I sighed dreamily and said, “What a nice guy.”
Carolan ignored me completely. Alanna rolled her eyes and said, “Are you coming?” over her shoulder as they turned and left the room.
I guess I needed to get some new material.
I hurried after them, but they were waiting at the door so that I could exit before them and maintain the façade of bitchy goddess-in-charge. Not that I minded. Just outside the door a guard waited for us. He was holding an enormous bag made of worn leather, which he handed to Carolan. Carolan thanked him and the guard bowed, turned on his heel and stepped back into his position of door ornament.
