him back from the body of the Morrigu. He groaned and sat down upon the earth. Then he looked across at the still figure of Connavar, crouched over the Old Woman. Bane rolled to his knees and rose unsteadily. Staggering to the king he dragged him back and laid him on the grass,
'What happened?' Bane asked Vorna.
'Her spirit flowed into you. I thought it would kill you.'
Bane rubbed his hands over his eyes. 'I saw things, Vorna. I watched Connavar fight the bear. I saw… him, in the cave, speak to you about my mother.'
'He loved her very dearly,' she said softly. 'They were to be wed…'
'I know. She… betrayed him.'
'Do not think of it as betrayal,' she said. 'Arian was a fey and troubled woman. She needed someone to lean on, to keep the darkness at bay. Everyone thought Conn would die. This terrified Arian. So she wed Casta. But all this is in the past now. Let it go.'
The king grunted and sat up. 'We will need to make a stretcher,' he said. 'I could not go through that again.'
'What did you see?' Vorna asked.
'We must cut poles,' said Connavar, 'and thread them through Bane's cloak. It is the strongest cloth we have. I believe it will take her weight.'
He pushed himself to his feet. Vorna moved to stand before him. 'What did you see, Conn?'
'Too much,' he told her. Drawing his sword he walked away into the trees, returning with two stout lengths of wood. Taking his dagger he chopped twigs and leaves from the lengths. Then he spread Bane's sheepskin cloak upon the earth and cut a series of slits along both sides before sliding the poles through them.
'We've still got to lift her onto it,' said Bane.
'Aye,' agreed Connavar. 'Let's do it quickly.'
Laying the stretcher alongside the Seidh they took up their positions and heaved her onto it. This time there was no flickering light. Bane and Connavar gathered up the stretcher and followed Vorna towards the south-east. It was heavy going and both men were sweating profusely as they climbed down the last hill. Before them, in a large clearing, was a circle of standing stones, shining golden in the dawn light. 'I can't… see any beasts,' grunted Bane, his muscles aching.
'Not yet,' said Vorna.
Slowly they approached the circle. Once more a mist swelled beneath their feet, swirling over the stones, rising higher and higher, blocking the sunlight. Then the mist thickened, growing blacker and darker, forming a dome of night over the stones. At the centre of the circle, beside a long flat altar, a glowing form appeared. Bane and Connavar carried the Morrigu to the edge of the circle and gently laid her down. A low growl came from the creature by the altar. Bane drew his sword, and let out a long, low breath. As Vorna had described, the creature was almost eight feet tall, its body covered with silver scales. Its long arms ended in wickedly curved talons. Bane looked into the beast's face. It had a long snout, almost like a wolf, yet with teeth like dagger blades.
'I'll take it from the left, you from the right,' said Bane, turning towards the king. 'What are you doing?'
Connavar had unbuckled his sword belt, and was now removing his breastplate and chain mail, his wrist guards and his greaves. 'Are you going to fight it naked?' asked Bane.
'I am not going to fight it at all,' said Connavar.
'Then what is your plan?'
Connavar knelt beside the stretcher and pushed his arms under the Morrigu. With one enormous heave he staggered to his feet, his knees almost buckling under the weight. He took one faltering step, then another, and crossed the circle past the tallest stone. The beast lumbered towards him. Bane ran into the circle, ducked under a sweeping talon and lashed his sword against the creature's belly. The sword bounced clear. Something struck Bane in the chest with terrible force, lifting him from his feet and hurling him from the circle. He landed heavily, but rolled to his knees in time to see Connavar staggering towards the altar. The scaled beast loomed above him, sending out an ear-piercing roar. The king ignored it and reached the altar, laying the Morrigu and her crow upon it.
As her body touched the stone the dome of darkness disappeared. Sunlight touched the scaled beast, and it began to shrink and fade. Bane climbed to his feet and, Vorna beside him, walked into the circle. The Morrigu's body began to tremble violently. A flame burst from her chest, setting fire to the cloth of her dress. Fire sprang from her fingers, the flesh falling away, dry and stiff, like shards of clay. The veil caught fire, peeling back from her face as flames roared up from her eyes. Brighter and brighter she burned, and the three onlookers stepped further back from the altar, shielding their eyes.
The fires died down swiftly, but the terrible brightness remained. 'Turn away,' came the now powerful voice of the Morrigu, 'for you must not see the Gateway open.' They obeyed her. Then her voice came again. 'I have always loved this world, which the Seidh named Tir na Nogh. I have cherished the belief that it will one day feed the soul of the universe from which it sprang. You spoke, Connavar, of spending twenty years seeking to protect the Rigante way of life. I have spent ten thousand years on ten thousand worlds seeking to protect life itself. Life is spirit. One cannot exist without the other. Deep in their hearts the Keltoi understand this. The people of Stone, save for the few Cultists among them, do not. I have seen the fall of worlds, and the conquests and desolation caused by the armies of lust and greed. Here Stone is the great enemy. On other worlds it is Rome, or Cagaris, or Shefnii, or Pakalin. The names change, the result of the evil remains the same: the death of spirit, the death of worlds.' Her voice faded for a moment, then she spoke to the king. 'Twenty years ago you asked a gift of me, and I told you there would be a price. That price is a simple one: when your brother calls upon you, do as he bids. No matter what else is pending, no matter the time or the greatness of events. You understand? Do as he bids.'
'Which brother?' asked Connavar.
'You will know. Do you accept this price?'
'I said that I would,' said Connavar. 'I will keep this promise – as I should have kept another promise all those years ago.'
'That is good,' said the Morrigu. 'And now to Bane. Will you offer me a gift?'
'What can I offer you, lady?'
'In eight days, on the night of the hunter's moon, you will return to this circle?'
'What then?'
'Whatever you choose. And now… farewell.'
The light faded. Vorna turned, and saw that the altar had disappeared.
'A simple thank you would have been pleasant,' said Bane.
Connavar pulled on his mailshirt and breastplate, and buckled on his sword belt. Bane approached him. 'How did you know the beast would not attack you?' he asked.
'I too would like the answer to that,' said Vorna.
Connavar knelt and put on his bronze greaves. 'The Morrigu took a great risk with us,' he said. 'She could have made it to the Gateway a week ago, as her energy was fading. Instead she stayed where she was, in the hope that we would come for her. I read it in her mind. She tried to close her thoughts to me, but by then she was too weak.' He straightened. 'I always thought of her as a malicious creature, but the depths of her love for this land and its people are beyond belief.'
'Yes, yes,' said Bane impatiently. 'She was a sweet and loving woman. But the beast…?'
'The creature no human could overcome? It was a lesson, Bane. A good man tried to teach it to me many years ago. You cannot overcome hatred with more hatred. Sometimes you have to surrender in order to win. There are only three possibilities when faced with an enemy: run from him, fight him, or make him your friend. The creature in the circle was created to respond. Attack it – and it will come back at you with twice your strength. I ignored it. And it, true to its nature, ignored me.'
'You sound sad, my dear,' said Vorna, moving to his side.
'Oh that it were only sadness,' said Connavar. Then he walked away from them.
Two days later, at the head of ten thousand Iron Wolves and three thousand Horse Archers, Wik among them, Connavar rode south. The main body of his footsoldiers – just over twenty-five thousand men – had already begun the march under the generalship of Govannan. Hundreds of baggage wagons followed the army, which stretched over nine miles of country. The folk of Three Streams watched them go.
Bane emerged from the Roundhouse as the king passed. Connavar saw him, and raised a hand in farewell.
