“It’s not so easy.” I could not fight Cillian; he was twice my size. I could not fight Ita. I could not fight death.
“No. I don’t suppose it is easy. Not for anyone.”
“Will you do it too?” It felt odd to be talking to him thus, as if we were friends; odd but somehow right.
He hesitated. “I don’t know.” A wayward lock of hair had fallen over his brow; he used his good hand to push it back in an impatient gesture. The blue eyes seemed turned inwards, as if he could see a long list of impossible challenges:
“The bread smells good,” I said.
I saw on Anluan’s face that he recognized a challenge when one was offered. Narrowing his eyes, he took up the knife in his left hand.
I had not thought how infuriating, how humiliating it must be to attempt such a task when one has little strength in the fingers of one hand. He struggled to hold the loaf steady as he cut. A flush of mortification rose to his cheeks. I had to clutch my hands together on my lap, so badly did I want to reach out and help him. When he was done, he picked up my share on the blade of the knife and passed it to me like a trophy of battle. I accepted it without fuss and busied myself spooning on honey.The kitchen was full of a deep quiet.
I slid the pot of honey across the table to my companion. I took a bite of my bread. “Thank you,” I said, and smiled.
Anluan dropped his gaze. “I would fail at the first real challenge, Caitrin. You heard how they ridiculed me out in the courtyard.Without help, I could not have rescued you.What the villagers said about me was accurate. As a man, I am useless.”
“You walked out to face those men on your own, with no weapons. I didn’t see the least fear in your eyes.”
“I was not afraid for my own safety. I did fear for you. Caitrin, what the outside world believes of me is true.Without the host, I have no power at all. I am a cripple, a weakling and a freak.” He did not speak in self-pity but as a flat statement of fact.
“You should take your own advice,” I said, struggling to sound calm and practical. “Practice courage in small steps. You’ve just achieved one. The next might be to do something about your writing.”
“Oh, no,” said Anluan. “Your turn next. But not now. Let’s enjoy our meal in peace.”
Suddenly I was not quite so hungry. If I could think of a list of challenges for Anluan, I could surely imagine a list for myself:
“All right,” I said. “If you can, I can.”
As we were finishing our belated breakfast there was a scratching on the door that led out to the yard. When Anluan went to open it Fianchu barreled into the chamber looking mightily pleased with himself. He came straight to me and stood with tongue lolling while I gave him a congratulatory scratch under the chin. On the step stood Olcan with his axe over his shoulder.
“All done,” he said.“They won’t be troubling you again, Caitrin.” Then, seeing my expression, he added, “Oh, we haven’t killed anyone. A bruise here, a scratch there, that’s the extent of it. I’m sorry you had a fright.”
“Thank you, Olcan,” said Anluan. “I must confess to experiencing a strong desire to kill, not so long ago. If that man ever crosses my path again, I may give a different set of orders.Where is Eichri?”
“Settling that uncanny steed of his, I expect. Caitrin, you’re still looking peaky.You should go up to your bedchamber and have a good rest.”
“I don’t think I could rest.” The prospect of being alone with my thoughts was not at all appealing, but I was in no fit state to work.
“There is something I should show you, Caitrin,”Anluan said, rising to his feet. “Can you manage a walk?”
I had not expected to find myself heading down the track through the forest again.The knowledge that I was walking in Cillian’s footsteps made me cold to the marrow. He and his friends couldn’t be far away. If they saw me out in the open, mightn’t they make another attempt to grab me, despite what had happened earlier? To speak of this was to admit how little courage I had. It was to seem to doubt Anluan’s capacity to protect me.
Hugging my shawl around me, I kept pace with my taller companion. Anluan was attempting to minimize his limp; I could see his effort in every step he took. I tried to concentrate on the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the trees in their raiment of myriad greens. I brought my wayward thoughts under control by considering how to make an ink the precise shade of beech leaves soon after their first unfurling.
“That pathway leads to caves,” said Anluan, pointing along a barely discernible track overgrown with brambles. “Some extend deep underground. The tale goes that Olcan’s kind once dwelt there. If you ask him, he will give you an answer that is neither yes nor no. There are no others like him here now, only those folk you saw before. They will not show themselves to you unless they choose to do so.”
“Or unless you summon them.”
“What happened this morning was unusual.When I saw you captive, it became necessary to call them.” He hesitated. “Do not imagine that I ever relish the exercise of such power.That I do not fully understand the nature of my control over them must be a peril in itself.Yet I must do it, Caitrin. Every day I impose my will on them, as I told you, so that they will not fall under the influence of the evil amongst them.As chieftain of Whistling Tor, I have no choice.”
We walked on. Above us, sunlight filtered down through the branches of willow and elder; a stream gurgled somewhere nearby. The warbling song of a thrush spilled through the air. “I don’t want to trouble you with too many questions,” I said. “But there’s one that seems important. When you spoke of this before, you implied that you cannot step outside the tight boundary of the fortress and its land or the host will escape your control. When your grandfather tried to lead them into battle the result was catastrophic. You spoke once of being trapped. Is that true? Is that the reason you can’t—” I fell silent.
