Fionn- Defence of Ráth Bládhma

by Brian O'Sullivan

  ‘It is a miserable task to set you,’ the bandraoi admitted quietly. ‘But I have pondered on this for days and can think of no other alternative. If they remain here they will die. With Clann Baoiscne, at least, they have some hope of survival.’

  Liath Luachra continued to stare at her, displaying no emotion at the bandraoi’s words. Contrary to most people, when she was surprised or shocked the woman warrior tended to grow increasingly still. It was a disquieting characteristic that Bodhmhall was all too familiar with for she shifted uneasily.

  ‘I would also have you take Bearach and Cónán with you. And the eldest Coill Mór girls. They are the only ones that will be able to make the journey without slowing you down.’

  Liath Luachra took a breath, holding her emotion in check. ‘If I take Bearach and Cónán,’ she said carefully, ‘the ráth loses three defenders, three defenders that cannot be spared.

  ‘Do you honestly believe three fighters will make a difference?’

  ‘It might.’

  ‘You were ever a poor liar, Liath Luachra. Despite Fiacail’s brave words tonight, we both know we can’t hope to survive the fian’s onslaught.’

  ‘You say this and yet, you also tell me you intend to remain.’

  ‘I cannot leave those who depend on me. Fiacail offers sanctuary at Seiscenn Uarbhaoil but the truth is few would survive such a journey. Cairbre and Conchenn are too old for such distances at this time of the year. Cairbre can barely walk in this weather as it is. Aodhán will not leave his parents.’ She sniffed and rubbed her nose. ‘He is a good boy,’ she added softly. She raised her hands and briefly rubbed her eyes.

  ‘The refugees from Coill Mór and Ráth Dearg will also remain. They have nowhere else to go. If they flee out to the Great Wild they will not survive for long without food or shelter. Like me, they would not be welcomed by Clann Baoiscne.’

  ‘Those who stay will die.’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘You will die.’

  The bandraoi was silent. ‘Most likely,’ she said at last.

  ‘And you are happy to send me away when you need me most?’ She snorted. ‘Your argument is flawed. The positions should be reversed.’

  ‘That decision withers any joy I had, Liath Luachra. But it is my decision. You are the only one I can trust to guarantee my nephew’s safety. His survival is essential. He is the future of Clann Baoiscne. He is more important than you or I or any other soul at Ráth Bládhma.’

  ‘Not to me,’ Liath Luachra countered bitterly. ‘Clann Baoiscne holds no importance for me. You are the only thing I care about.’

  ‘But I am Clann Baoiscne. And Clann Baoiscne is me. Liath Luachra, if you truly care for me, for all that I hold dear, for all that I am, then you will do this for me.’

  The warrior woman glared at her. ‘This is shit!’ she protested.

  ‘No, this is fate.’

  ‘Fate can stick its head up the arse of a poxy cow. I will not leave.’

  ‘A rún, if you refuse then you condemn us all. On the night of my nephew’s birth the Gift showed me there was a price to be paid, a blood sacrifice for his survival. Until now I’d always assumed that sacrifice was Muirne’s alone but the price is much greater than that.’

  ‘Such a price is no bargain. Walk away, Bodhmhall. Come climb the wall with me. Let the others face their fate and we will slip away in the darkness. I will protect you and keep you safe until we can find somewhere else to live in peace.’

  The bandraoi shook her head solemnly. ‘Do you truly believe I could live with myself after such an act?’

  ‘This is …’ The woman warrior struggled to speak, revealing the first true signs of anger. ‘This is witless! Bodhmhall, you cannot ask me to do this. I’ll have nothing in my life if you’re not there.’

  ‘Yes, you will. You’ll have Bearach and Cónán to care for. And the Coill Mór girls. They will be your family now. They will need your support. As will my nephew. And Muirne, of course.’

  ‘Muirne!’ The woman warrior spat the name like a curse. ‘Muirne! Muirne Muncháem has truly set the countryside aflame.’

  ‘Even Muirne,’ the bandraoi insisted. She has acted to save her child’s life. Besides, she is just a pawn in the great scheme of things. As are we all. In a year’s time, the sun will still rise in this valley every morning. Every night it will still sink again. This will never change and no-one will ever remember us. No-one will care.’

  ‘I will care.’

  The bandraoi’s expression softened. ‘A rún, I would do anything in my power to spare you this but it must be done. You know that we’ve had more than our share of good fortune. Three years. Three glorious years that we have lived in peace, free of others who would constrain us or use us as chattels. If I died right now I would die grateful with the knowledge that I had, at least, these last three years with you.’

  Liath Luachra’s face contorted in silent rage as she attempted to assemble any argument, any emotional appeal that might make the bandraoi see sense. Deep in her heart, however, she knew the cause was already lost. Barely articulate at times, she could not hope to rival Bodhmhall’s innate ability with words and reason. Looking at the bandraoi’s determined gaze, it was also clear that Bodhmhall’s mind was intractably set. Nothing Liath Luachra said, nothing Liath Luachra did, would divert her from the path she had fixed herself.

  What hope is there now?

  A wave of bleakness washed over the woman warrior. She felt a sudden, sinister coldness fill her heart, a growing nausea, a choking sensation that tightened about her throat.

  And then it was there, that manic rage from the old days: viscous, cruel, and overpoweringly destructive. Fury washed over her like a powerful fever, blurring her vision with a bloody red haze, filling her head with white noise that sounded like distant screaming.

  The bandraoi must have seen something for Liath Luachra saw her flinch. Bodhmhall stood and made to advance towards her but whatever flickered across the woman warrior’s face made her stop and back away uncertainly.

  Strained with a fury she could not vent, a desire for violence she feared to unleash, Liath Luachra lunged for the doorway. Pausing to snatch her weapons and her cloak from the floor, some instinct prompted her to glance over her shoulder to where the bandraoi stood terrified and wilted, staring at her with wide eyes.

  ‘Liath Luachra,’ she began. ‘I –’

  Without a word, the woman warrior plunged through the doorway.

  ***

  The lis was still relatively busy. Cairbre, Ultán and a few of the Coill Mór warriors, wrapped in cloaks, chatted softly around the fire pit. The moon had disappeared behind the clouds however, so none of them saw the flicker of movement as she crossed to the gateway.

  The barrier at the stone passage had been removed, the combined livestock driven outside, presumably for one last opportunity to feed before the fian’s arrival prevented it. Atop the stone barrier, Tóla was on guard duty. Focussed on trying to spot anyone approaching the ráth, he did not notice her pass silently below and slip outside into the night.

  A hundred paces from the ráth, Liath Luachra stopped and stood panting in the dark pasture, heart pounding, body sweating as though she’d run for days. With the sky obscured by heavy cloud she was completely blind, engulfed by a dense blackness that filled all space about her. She’d never known a night so dark and yet there was something comforting about that darkness, something … restful.

  Gradually, she felt her heartbeat slow, her breathing ease. In the blinding black, there was no tinge of red and the sound of screaming ebbed away. It was, she felt, as though the darkness had suffocated the fury, snuffing its fire to a charred numbness.

  Am I dead? I feel nothing.

  Nothing.

  She tried to make sense of it but no matter how she tried she couldn’t get a grip on any particular emotion. Everything she smelled, everything she heard, everything she remembered, felt as though they were the sensations and memories of s
omeone else. Someone she used to know.

  She remained standing there for a long time for she did not know what to do. In her mind, she had no destination, no goal but to flee Ráth Bládhma. Even this was fruitless and pointless. In the darkened forest she would have no means of finding the path through the trees. If she did by some miracle locate it, she had no means of preventing herself from wandering off it again.

  The simple truth was that she would, in all likelihood, become lost and spend the night curled up beside some shrub, shivering with the cold until dawn came and she could find her bearings again.

  She didn’t know when she’d started it but she suddenly realised she was walking again. In the darkness it was impossible to tell but she hoped that her natural sense of direction was guiding her west to the entrance of Glenn Ceoch.

  After several hundred paces she stopped, startled to hear the distant sound of voices. Dropping to the ground, she paused and listened, her old martial instincts kicking in even if her mind was too numb to act.

  Crawling on all fours, she moved through the damp, frosty grass in the direction from which the voices seemed to come. All of a sudden, the clouds cleared again and there, illuminated by the moonlight, less then fifteen paces away, she spotted Fiacail in the company of Ber Rua and Aodhán. All three were standing with their backs towards her, observing – and presumably guarding – the nearby herd of cattle. Frozen, she crouched lower in the grass, waiting for them to move so that she could continue on her way.

  ‘Should we not bring them in soon?’ she heard Aodhán ask the two older men.

  The lanky Coill Mór man shook his head. ‘Your lis won’t be long stinking of cow shit with our combined herds. Besides, they won’t have access to food once they’re back inside the ráth. Best to let them eat their fill. They might be a long time inside.’

  ‘I wouldn’t think so,’ murmured Fiacail, so softly Liath Luachra could barely hear him. ‘The fate of the ráth will be decided within a single day. Probably in a single battle.’

  Belatedly realising that the others were staring at him, he turned to face them, smoothening out this unintended gravity with an expansive grin. ‘But there’s little enough danger for another day at least. No point in us all losing a decent night’s sleep.’

  He jerked his head towards the ráth, which Liath Luachra could now make out as a dim outline against the meagre light of the internal lis fire. ‘I’ll remain on watch. I suggest you two take another beast back for the slaughter tomorrow morning. It’ll strengthen the people’s resolve and the smell of fresh meat alone will drive those fian warriors mad with hunger.’

  ‘A man needs a belly of meat to fight,’ agreed Aodhán, nodding gravely.

  In the darkness, Liath Luachra rolled her eyes. One day a blooded warrior and already the óglach was spouting shite like every other thick brained fighter she’d ever known.

  The clouds continued to clear so she crouched even lower in the grass as she watched Aodhán and Ber Run pass by, driving one of the cows ahead of them as they proceeded back to the settlement. When they were gone, her eyes returned to the Seiscenn Uarbhaoil man who continued to obstruct her route out of the valley. For a moment, she considered circling around him then realised that she’d have to make a significant detour to avoid disturbing the cattle. If the clouds closed in again, she would probably lose her way again and could end up blundering back into him.

  To the dim, grey Gods with this!

  Rising to her feet, she started walking directly towards the big warrior.

  It took Fiacail a moment to hear the sound of her footsteps but, when he did, he swung about quickly, bringing a sharp-tipped spear to bear, level with her stomach. Recognising her, despite the gloom, he allowed the spear point to drop but he continued to stare at her. ‘It must truly be the end of the world,’ he said. ‘If the Grey One weeps.’

  Startled, Liath Luachra raised one hand to her face and found her eyes were damp, her cheeks streaked with tears. She stared in bewilderment at the wetness on her fingertips.

  ‘I take it Bodhmhall’s determined to stay, then,’ continued Fiacail.

  She stared voicelessly back at him.

  He nodded to himself. ‘Ah, yes. I thought as much.’

  Somehow, the Seiscenn Uarbhaoil man’s presence managed to rouse her when nothing else could. She could feel his voice poke the angers in her gut, stirring them to life again. ‘Shit on your head, Fiacail,’ she said in a dead voice. ‘I will raise a drink in toast to your death.’

  ‘Then drink deep, Grey One,’ the big man said, unmoved by the insult. ‘It should not be too long in coming.’

  She brushed past him then. Intent on the distant shadow of the treeline she made three or four paces before a sudden thought caused her to spin about, the movement whipping the hem of her cloak with a muffled snap. ‘Why do you stay?’

  ‘What?’ The big man blinked, blindsided by the question.

  ‘Why do you stay to die at Ráth Bládhma? You have the option of sanctuary, of returning to Seiscenn Uarbhaoil.’

  He peered at her for a moment, as though trying to work out where she was coming from with such a line of questioning. ‘Because there is nothing else.’

  Liath Luachra stared at him blankly. He returned her gaze with a soft chuckle.

  ‘I do not expect you to understand, Grey One but the truth is I have no wish to return to Seiscenn Uarbhaoil. As an outsider, I was obliged to join in union with the daughter of the previous chieftain to cement my authority. That old fool was happy enough with the bargain. He had no sons to retain the land.’

  He laughed sourly.

  ‘But she, of course, is a pig. She has voice like a hoarse magpie and she wails at me incessantly. It is my intent to dissolve that union by not returning.’

  ‘And yet you offered to bring Bodhmhall to Seiscenn Uarbhaoil.’

  ‘I did. It was my intention to try and save her life. If Bodhmhall had agreed to come I would somehow have made the situation work.’ He shrugged. ‘But she knows her own mind, that woman. From your tears, I see her stubbornness has confounded you as well.’

  Liath Luachra’s face remained expressionless. By rights, she should have felt slighted by the comparison but now she found that she lacked any ability to care. ‘That’s no reason to stay. You could go to Dún Baoiscne. Clann Baoiscne would have you.’

  ‘Of course they would. But they would only ever want me for my fighting arm. All I will ever be to Clann Baoiscne is Fiacail the Cock who is good in a fight. My ambitions grow beyond such limitations.’ He laughed sourly. ‘Do you know, I came here to Ráth Bládhma with aspirations of convincing Bodhmhall to return to Dún Baoiscne with me. With her help, I intended to make the role of tánaiste of Clann Baoiscne my own. And eventually lead Clann Baoiscne as rí.’

  He grunted.

  ‘Of course our Cailleach Dubh opened my eyes to that particular delusion. Bodhmhall knows me as I truly am. I probably could have been rí but I’d never have been a good one. I am too easily swayed by every ripe pair of buttocks that walk before me.’ He laughed but it was a self-mocking laugh, cold and loaded with bitterness. ‘I was only good when I was with Bodhmhall. There is not a day goes by that I regret not remaining with her.’

  Liath Luachra stared, too dulled to respond with any true feeling. ‘So you would prefer to throw your life away,’ she said at last. ‘Here at Glenn Ceoch.’

  ‘If you give your life for a purpose you are not throwing it away.

  ‘And remaining here has a purpose? What could it possibly offer you?’

  ‘A battle. It may be a battle against ridiculous odds, it may be a battle to the death but oh, Liath Luachra. What a battle it will be!’

  She regarded him with utter weariness. ‘You will die.’

  ‘Of course I will. But we all die at one point or another. In the end it is only the manner in which your name is remembered that counts. In the years to come, when people speak my name around the campfires they will remember me as F
iacail, Battler of Ráth Bládhma. Not Fiacail the Cock.’ He paused for a moment and scratched his chin in thought. ‘Maybe I will have a saga of my own.’

  ‘And what of Ultán? And Tóla?’

  Fiacail gave a tired shake of his head. ‘Hah! This is their decision as much as it is mine. Ultán has never been the same since the passing of his wife. Now he himself is sickening from a growth in the stomach. He always knew this would be his last trip. He wishes to die with a sword in his hand.’

  ‘And Tóla?’

  ‘Tóla has no family, no loved one to return to.’ Fiacail shrugged. ‘The truth is no one likes Tóla. Seiscenn Uarbhaoil would express little regret if he did not return.’

  Liath Luachra wrapped her cloak around herself and prepared to move on. ‘You are a fool, Fiacail.’

  ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not.’ He appeared completely unperturbed by her disdain. ‘In any case, you should clean that face of yours, Grey One. It will dishearten people to see the great Liath Luachra with tear streaks.’ He grinned. ‘No doubt it will also detract from that reputation of ruthlessness.’

  ‘They won’t see me.’ She shrugged. ‘Besides, who’s going to know? They’ll all be dead soon.’

  She started to walk away.

  ‘Liath Luachra.’

  She turned to look back, surprised to find the Seiscenn Uarbhaoil man observing her with an uncharacteristically soft expression. ‘If it is any consolation, you will find other ... other women that you can love. Other women you can feel attracted to. Those who - ’

  ‘You misunderstand, Fiacail,’ she said, brusquely interrupting him.

  ‘What do I misunderstand?’

  ‘I feel no attraction to other women,’ she said sadly. ‘I have only ever loved Bodhmhall. But now, like you, she is already dead.’

  Chapter Nine

  It was fear as much as the cold that caused Bodhmhall to tremble. Although she knew this to be true, it did not prevent her from pulling the fur cloak tight about her shoulders, drawing the heavy folds closer.

  It did not stop the shivering.