Heart's Blood

Magnus smiled. “Never had any trouble yet, and I’ve been doing it since Anluan was knee-high. Must be something about the way I look. And if you’re with me, you’ll be all right. Think about it. I expect you wouldn’t mind a chat with some womenfolk. Muirne’s hardly the most sociable of girls.”

“Magnus.”

“Mm?”

“Why won’t anyone tell me what they are, these things in the woods? Every time I ask for explanations, I get a vague reply about beings or creatures, and how they’re of various kinds, and then someone changes the subject. But in the documents they’re described as a fearsome army, a force nobody can control, something that was so powerful and destructive that everyone in the neighborhood must have known about it.”

He looked at me, gray eyes steady. “There’s two ways you might find out the answer to that, Caitrin. It might be somewhere in those documents you’re working on. Or he might decide he’s ready to tell you.”

“Oh.” I considered this as he ate his way steadily through his porridge. “Could you answer a question?”

“Depends what it is.”

“Is Anluan the only person here who knows what they are?”

“No, lass.We all do.”

“So he’s ordered you not to talk about it, not to tell me.”

“I need to explain something to you, Caitrin.You might be tempted to think Anluan is somewhat less than a grown man. He hasn’t had much to do with the world outside, and it makes him . . . odd, sharp, not quite in tune with folk like yourself, folk from beyond the hill. He’s got his reasons, strong ones, for being the way he is. I’ve tried to help him. I haven’t always done a good job of it. He can seem a bit like a child sometimes, quick to anger, all too ready to see a chance remark as a slight. But don’t make the mistake of thinking anyone else is in charge here.Anluan’s the leader of this household. He makes the rules and the rest of us abide by them.”

After a little I said,“I see.Very well, I’ll come with you tomorrow. Shall I tell him or will you?”

Magnus grinned. “I will. But I’ll wait until suppertime. Now I’d best be gone.” He rose to his feet, and I thought it was perhaps not so surprising that whatever lurked in the woods had left him alone, for even in his old working clothes he was every inch a warrior.

A familiar mist wreathed the trees and clung to the bushes as Magnus and I made our way down to the settlement. It was early; I had been astonished to see Anluan standing in the archway, a somber cloaked figure, watching us as we went.

“We’ll be back before midday,” Magnus had called, but Anluan had said nothing at all. I imagined he disapproved of my going; he had not come to last night’s evening meal, but I knew Magnus had told him the plan.

I walked close to my companion, fearing whispering voices and creeping hands, or worse. After a while Magnus said, “They don’t tend to come out when it’s me, as I told you. Scarcely a peep out of them. Besides, you’re one of Anluan’s folk now; that protects you.”

“That’s very . . . inscrutable,” I said, lengthening my stride to keep up.

“I wouldn’t be taking you if it wasn’t safe.”

The simple logic in this was reassuring. I relaxed somewhat.“You never married, Magnus?” I asked him.

“Never met the right woman. Not a lot of them to choose from in these parts.”This was spoken with good humor, but it seemed to me a terrible waste. He would have made some woman a fine husband, and not just because he was so handy around the house.

“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it.

“Not your fault, is it? I made my choice and I’ll live with it. He needed me. Still does, I believe.”

“You’re all very loyal to him.”

“He’s a fine lad. If you stayed long enough, you’d come to know that.”

“Magnus?”

“Mm?”

“Was Anluan born with his disability, the weak arm and leg and the crooked shoulders?”

Magnus walked on as if I had not spoken, and I wondered if this was another of those questions that would never be answered. Then he said, “He was born as straight as any other child. He fell ill.This was after both Emer and Irial were gone.A palsy.We nearly lost him.Tried to get help, but nobody would come.”

Nobody comes here. I tried to imagine how that would have been: the boy lying between life and death, and only the ill-assorted inhabitants of the fortress to tend to him.“But surely—” I began, then stopped myself. If I had learned anything by now, it was that this place ran by its own rules, and perhaps always had.

“He’s got kin,” Magnus said. “But things are complicated. Maybe one day he’ll trust you enough to tell you. He was very sick. We got him through it. It was a grim time. He regained the power of speech, though that was a slow process. He was left with his weakness. It’s a hard thing for a boy of thirteen to come to terms with, that he’ll never be an able-bodied man. Still weighs heavily on him, as no doubt you’ve seen. I did my best.”

“I know, Magnus.” After a moment I asked, “What kin?”

“At the time of Anluan’s illness, Emer’s brother was chieftain of Whiteshore—that’s our neighboring territory to the northeast. If you went up the north tower you’d have seen it. The fellow had never approved of Emer’s marriage to Irial. He’d cut off all contact between the two territories. We sent a lad from the settlement with a message, when Anluan was hanging between life and death.They wouldn’t let him through the gates.” He glanced at me, his strong features set. “Ask the folk down the hill why these things happen, and they’ll tell you Whistling Tor is cursed. It’s near enough to the truth. Fear kept folk away then, and it keeps them away now. Emer’s brother is gone; his son, Brion, is chieftain of Whiteshore now. A better man than his father, from what I’ve heard. But that gap’s never been bridged. Fear keeps Anluan a prisoner.”

“And you with him,” I said softly.