«This,» she said, «is the skull that belonged to Feradach macConchobar, that I killed in payment for the taking of my dear Maine Morgor. See, I have had the eye-holes gilded.»
Her dress, which had been a bright red in the stronger illumination of the hall, was quite a deep crimson here, and clung closely to a figure that, while full, was unquestionably well shaped. She turned her head and one of the jewels in her coronet threw a red flash of light into Shea’s eyes.
«Would you be having a drop of Spanish wine, now?»
Shea felt a little trickle of perspiration gather on his chest and run down, and wished he were back with Ollgaeth. The druid was verbose and hopelessly vain, but he had furnished the tipoff on the chanting. It was some kind of quantity control for the spells that went with it. «Thanks,» he said.
Maev poured wine into a golden cup for him, more for herself, and sat down on a stool. «Draw close beside me,» she said, «for it is not right that we should be too much overheard. There. Now what is this of planning and disasters?»
Shea said, «In my own country I am something of a magician, or druid as you call it. Through this I have learned that you’re going to get all Cuchulainn’s enemies together, then put a geas on him to make him fight them all at once.»
She looked at him from narrowed eyes. «You know too much, handsome man,» she said, and there was a note of menace in her voice. «And what is this of disasters?»
«Only that you better not. You will succeed against Cuchulainn, but it will end up in a war, in which you and your husband and most of your sons will be killed.»
She sipped, then stood up suddenly and began to pace the floor, moving like a crimson tide. Shea thought etiquette probably required him to get up, too, and he did so.
Not looking at him, Maev said, «And you have been at Muirthemne. Which is to say you have told the Hound of what we hold in store for him. Which is to say that Cathbadh knows of it also. Ha!» She whirled with sudden panther-like grace and faced Shea. «Tell me, handsomeman, is it not true that Cathbadh sent you here to turn us from our purpose? Is not that tale of wars and disasters something he made up and put into your mouth?»
Shea said, «No, it isn’t. Honest. I did talk to Cathbadh, and he’d like to stop this chain reaction, but I came here for something quite different.»
She stamped. «Do not be lying to me. I see it all. Cathbadh can no more protect Cuchulainn against the geas of Ollgaeth than a pig can climb trees, so he would be sending you here with your talk of magic.»
This was getting dangerous. Shea said, «Cathbadh did admit that Ollgaeth was the better druid.»
«I thank him for the sending.» She turned and stepped across the room, opened a big jewel case, from which she took a gold bracelet. «Come hither.»
Shea stepped over to her. She rolled up his sleeve and snapped the bracelet on his arm.
«Thanks,» said Shea, «But I don’t think I ought to accept.»
«And who are you to be saying what you will accept from Queen Maev? It is a thing decided, and I will never come to terms with Cuchulainn, no matter if it costs me my life and all. Come, now.»
She filled the wine cups again, took his hand, guided him to the stools and sat down close beside him. «Since life will be so short we may as well have what we can out of it,» she said, drank off the cup and leaned back against him.
The thought leaped across his mind that if he moved aside and let this imperious and rather beautiful woman slip to the floor, she would probably have his head taken off. He put his arm around her in self-defense. She caught the hand and guided it to her bosom, then reached for the other hand and led it to her belt. «The fastening is there,» she said.
The door opened andMaine mo Epert came in, followed by Belphebe.
«Mother and Queen.» began the young man, and stopped.
To give Maev due credit, she got to her feet with dignity and without apparent embarrassment. «Will you be forever behaving as though you were just hatched from the shell, now?» she demanded.
«But I have a case against this woman. She made a promise to me, she did, and she has a geas on her that makes a man as ill as though bathed in venom.»
«You will be having Ollgaeth take it off, then,» said Maev.
«‘Tis the night of Lugh. Ollgaeth is not to be found.»
«Then you must even bed by yourself, then,» said Maev. She looked at Belphebe and her expression was rather sour.
«I think we had better be going along, too, Harold,» said Belphebe, sweetly.
VII
When they were outside, Belphebe said, «Tell me not. I know. She looked so fine in that red robe that you wished to help her take it off.»
Shea said, «Honest, Belphebe, I.»
«Oh, spare me your plaints. I’m not the first wife to have a husband made of glass and breakable, nor will be the last. What is that you have on your arm?»
«Listen, Belphebe, if you’ll only let me tell you.»
A form stepped out of the shadows into moonlight which revealed it as Ollgaeth. «The hour is met if you would see the Hill of the Sidhe, Mac Shea,» he said.
«Want to come along, kid?» said Shea. «This might be useful for both of us.»
«Not I,» said Belphebe. «I’m for bed — geas and all.» She lifted a hand to stifle an imaginary yawn.
Shea said, «May I.» and stopped. He hated to leave Belphebe alone in her present mood, no matter how really unjustified it was. But it occurred to him that if he wanted to get any cooperation out of the vain druid, he would have to play along and butter him up. And it was distinctly important to learn about the system of magic here.
«All right,» he said. «See you later, dear.»
He turned to follow Ollgaeth through the dark streets. The guards at the gate were awake, a tribute to Maev’s management, but they passed the druid and his companion through readily enough. Ollgaeth, stumbling along the track, said, «The Sidhe, now, they have the four great treasures of Ireland — Dagda’s cauldron that will never let a man go foodless, the stone of Fal that strikes every man it is aimed at, Lugh’s spear and Nuada’s great manslaying sword that is death to all before it but protection to the bearer.»
«Indeed,» said Shea. «At the table you were saying.»
«Will you never let a man finish his tale?» said Ollgaeth. «The way of it is this: The Sidhethemselves may not use the treasures — there is a geas on them that they can be handled only by a man of Milesian blood. Nor will they give them up, for fear the treasures may be used against them. And all who come into their land, they use hardly.»
«I should think.» began Shea.
«I do call to mind there was a man named Goll tried it,» said Ollgaeth. «But the Sidhe cut off both his ears and fed them to the pigs, and he was never the same man after. Ah, it’s a queer race they are, and a good man one must be to sit at table with them»
The Hill of the Sidhe loomed in front of them.
«If you will look there carefully, handsome man,» said Ollgaeth, «to the left of that little tree, you will see a darkish patch in the rocks. Let us move a little closer now.» They climbed the base of the hill. «Now if you will be standing about here, watch the reflection of the moon on the spot there.»
Shea looked, moving his head from side to side, and made out a kind of reflection on the surface of the rock, notso definite and clear as it might be, more like that on a pond, wavering slightly with ripples. Clearly an area of high magical tension.
Ollgaeth said, «It is not to everyone I would be showing this or even telling it, but you will be going back to your America, and it is as well for you to know that because of the spells the Sidhe themselves place on these gates, they may be opened without the use of the ancient tongue. Watch how.»
He raised his arms and began to chant:
