Lael
12-10-08, 03:56PM
Chapter Twenty
Dagda listened as the raven elder reported on the state of things outside of the city. Many of the smaller villages near the ice wall had moved further inward to places closer to the city. What was interesting was that Amadan’s army was utterly missing. Not so much as a feather or hair remained in the passes or anywhere along the glacial barrier. If the raven was to be believed, Amadan had withdrawn without a real fight. This surprised Dagda immensely. Never before in the history of the land had The Fool given up without a real fight or some other catastrophic event.
He was also disturbed that Morrigan was missing as well. None had seen her since soon after Lugh returned just after the ice wall was set up. Dagda hoped she was not in trouble. Still, she was well able to fend for herself, as proven time and again through the centuries. She was also more than able to return if she so chose. A buried suspicion though was slowly dawning on Dagda. He left the raven in his tree and returned to the hall.
Pacing down the hall, he took his seat among the Elders. More chairs were placed for the chieftains of the other races. Oberon had used his magic to grow to a suitable size, as had Fergus of the Lurikeen. Also accommodations for the water-bound were made without fuss. Looking around the circle, Dagda let his gaze linger on Brighid. She might have a means of determining the truth of his thoughts. She caught him watching her and smiled. He nodded.
“Amadan has retreated. His army no longer seeks entry to the valley. And his pressure on the seasons has ceased. Something has altered his goals and his attention is elsewhere,” Dagda informed the council. Murmurs and excitement swept the circle of seats at his words.
King Aemon of the Merrow, Lady Sioned of the Sylphs and Queen Deirdre of the Dryads exchanged glances. After the two women inclined their heads to him by way of permission, King Aemon cleared his voice. The rest of the council quieted as they waited to hear his words. The shared looks had not gone unnoticed by the more observant among those seated in the circle. Dagda was especially interested in what that particular trio might have in common cause to speak. Their normal contact was rather limited outside of councils such as this.
“The Queen of the Dryads, the Lady of the Sylphs and myself find ourselves sharing disturbing news concerning our people. A number of our people have been coerced magically into serving one of the Tuatha Dé Danan. Several have died at the hands of others of your folk,” King Aemon reported. His face, while dry, still held a hint of his watery nature. That face was drawn in painful sorrow relating the deaths.
“A number of dryads died by Tuatha Dé Danan hands and some of my Merrow in fighting a peist that was geased to them. This seems related to the missing mortal you spoke of. Or so it seems to us. Where are the other Elders of your clan?” asked the Merrow king somewhat sharply.
“Aye, you are missing at least three, to our way of reckoning. The rest are accounted for elsewhere one way nor another,” piped up Fergus of the Lurikeen.
“Amadan’s departure could perhaps be a ruse?” asked Lady Sioned. Her question was out of sync with the others, but she was often like her element, blown this way and that without warning.
Dagda considered how to answer the various questions. The relationship between the different races was complex, often volatile and could erupt into chaos at a moment’s notice. It was inconceivable to ignore them altogether, but he was momentarily at a loss how to come at it. Answers were owed. The responsibility was his. Grimly, Dagda decided directness was best this time.
“Ecne and Aongas are off seeking the mortal Graham at Loch na Ceathrú. Brighid did a scrying and placed him there. The only one I cannot put a hand to right now is Morrigan. She often goes about her own business without consulting the council. Though, doing so now, of all times, seems foolish. With Amadan laying siege here and always willing to take on the Elders, her absence worries me,” offered Dagda, choosing to address the larger problem first. “Have any seen her since Lugh returned?”
Whispered conferences were held as all compared memory of when last the Queen of Battles was seen. It took only moments for everyone to agree that Morrigan was not seen since the hour after Lugh returned with his news of the barrier. None had seen her leave, nor the manner of that leaving. Dagda wondered if her leaving was what drew Amadan from his goal of entering Cathair Crofhind. Did the Fool pursue her even now?
The door to the hall swung inward and a young man slipped through the barely parted doors quietly. He was ordinary enough, excepting that a small owl sat on his wrist, which was held carefully at chest level. The young man waited at the doors waiting for permission to come forward. Dagda waved him over and the youth came down the hall as quickly as he could without unseating the raptor.
“What is this, Cet?” Dagda asked the teen.
“Shinnon saw him fly in and told me to bring him directly to you. My mother says it bears word from Ecne meant for your ears. So, here I be,” explained Cet with a slightly nervous glance at the council seated around him. He bobbed his head to the women and grinned at the men.
“Thank you, lad. Now off with you. Tell your mother I said you both did well by getting this fine feathered fellow to me so quickly,” Dagda said as he dismissed the youth. He patted the boy’s shoulder and nodded toward the door.
“No trouble, none at all,” Cet replied impishly with a grin and fairly ran back to the doors and slipped through them again as silently as he had entered.
Dagda bent and tilted his head to the owl to listen to its soft speech. The assembled counselors waited quietly to see what news came next. His brow drew together in a stormy line as the owl reached the end of its messages. Murmuring, Dagda created a perch up among the rafters for the bird to rest until nightfall. That act of magic told him that part of what Ecne guessed was true. Magic was becoming more difficult to use with each passing day. Soon it would fail and the land with it. All of the creatures that relied on magic to live would die. And only one stood to benefit from such a turn of events. That also confirmed Morrigan’s treachery soundly enough for Dagda. A pain shot through his heart at the insight, but he pushed it down to be dealt with later, in private.
“Morrigan betrays the land and its peoples,” Dagda declared to the waiting council.
Gasps and cries of outrage erupted after a few seconds of eerie dead silence. Al began talking at once, calling out advice and suggestions on what to do about Morrigan. Still others asked for more details. Those of the Tuatha Dé Danan were pale with anger and despair. They kept mostly silent, knowing their king better than the others could. They listened as Dagda told them of Morrigan’s plot and her involvement of Amadan. Surprise was universal as he related Amadan’s change of heart and calling of the Wild Hunt after Morrigan. Shock washed over them when he explained the failing of magic and the mortal’s part in it.
“I have promised that the mortal may return home to his land. I also swore that if he did not leave, he must die. One way or another, the barrier between the worlds must be repaired. So long as he lives on this side of it, we are in danger. Will you help in this crisis? Will you lend your support and people to this end? For we all fall if any holds apart,” Dagda stated as he looked at each in turn.
“I and my people will stand with you,” said Oberon into the silence.
“The Lurikeen can do no less,” growled Fergus after a swift sideways glance at his rival.
“We stand with you,” said Deirdre and Sioned together. Their combined voices brought to mind rippling leaves on a breeze.
“I know not how we might help, but what we can do shall be done,” called Aemon.
Donovan nodded, “It is well that mine can take human form. We will stand with you and represent the Merrow if they are willing to arm us.”
“Aye and done,” shot back Aemon with a fierce approving grin. “Travel time is the issue.”
“Since you all come to the defense of the land and so swiftly, we of the Tuatha Dé Danan will supply the magic to speed your travel. It is owed you all. We own the betrayal. Lír and Lugh will aid the water folk. Áine and Dian Cécht help the Flower folk and Sylphs. Brighid and I will see to the Dryads and Lurikeen,” ordered Dagda. His people nodded their agreement. A debt was owed by their clan due to the abominable act of Morrigan that caused harm to the others.
The sub-kings and queens agreed about the fairness of Dagda and accepted gratefully the help he offered. Their help would be all the more powerful for the conservation of their strength until needed. With magical travel arranged for, they could gather quickly at any place determined by need. Dagda was proving why he was king over all and a good one.
“Brighid, I need you to scry. Find the lads. And then find where Morrigan intends to stop them. We need to reach her before they do,” Dagda said quietly to his daughter.
“Aye, father. It can be done, especially if The Fool stays out of it.”
“Have you sent messengers to the Fir Bolg?” asked Oberon. “They may be willing to help also.”
“No, I sent a messenger when the troubles with Amadan and the seasons began. They told her it was no problem of theirs and we were welcome to keep it ours,” answered Dagda with disgust.
“Ah, shortsighted folk, as always,” nodded Oberon with obvious disappointment.
“Exactly so. As ever they have been. Just as well they stay put. I could not trust them not to swing a sword, accidentally, at the wrong head in the heat of battle,” Dagda said with a rueful chuckle. “So, are we in accord then? Once we know where to send our people, we will call you to the place of battle through the magic.”
Nods of agreement went the rounds of the chairs. Each of the Elders went to their assigned groups and worked out the details of the summoning for when it would come time. Once everyone knew their plans, they were sent back to their people to prepare as much as they could. Time was short and much would depend on their speedy action. All of the Elders, save Dagda and Brighid, then left the hall to get what rest they could before the coming battle. The two remaining in the hall drew chairs nearer the hearth with its perpetual fire.
“Seek the boys, iníon. Find them and tell me where they are now. Then we will seek the place that old battle harridan plans to bushwhack them. We can then put a spike in her chariot wheel,” murmured Dagda.
Brighid nodded. She tossed her head and whipped her thick braid over her shoulder to get it out of her way. She cupped her hands and murmured. Soon flames danced over her palms, leaping and twisting. The flames eventually formed figures as she and her father watched intently. Three men took shape and then the two horses. The flames moved in simulated movement and it was plain that they were at as close to a gallop as the woods allowed. Dagda grunted in satisfaction as the scene shrank and the woods clouded them. Then they shrank still more. Soon Dagda was able to place where they were. Two days ride from where Lugh said the breach was that the mortal must be returned through.
Dagda patted Brighid’s shoulder and nodded. Brighid released the scene and the flames melded together again. After a moment, the reformed, showing the same scene from high above the fleeing figures. The writhing flames began moving again, showing the direction they were going and moving away from them swiftly. Down it drifted, fast as falcon’s flight until Dagda was able to judge that the focus of the flames was perhaps a day from the barrier at the place needed. Brighid’s forehead was beading with sweat now. Immense effort was being spent to give Dagda the information he sought from his daughter. Sure that everything needed was seen, she began releasing the flames again.
The scene blurred and the flames shrank toward her palms. Before expiring, they suddenly flared. An older man sat on a stallion, cupped within her trembling palms. The Fool was once more hi-jacking the scrying. Dagda frowned and Brighid winced. Amadan’s power stung and Brighid was fighting to shut it down before she received real hurt from it.
“Stay a moment, lass. I would speak with the Ard Ri,” the flame figure said. There was a hissing tonal quality to the words, perhaps because it was the fire supplying the sound.
“I hear you, Fool,” Dagda rasped angrily.
“The Queen of Battles has offended my honor. I seek restitution from her directly. I am no longer interested in anything else. As partial payment of her debt, I grace the mortal with time spent unharried by her as she is busy fleeing me. Though, she has evaded the Hunt with some skill. My creatures will support yours at the appointed hour,” explained Amadan from the palms of Brighid’s hands.
“Truce between us then?” asked Dagda.
“Aye, truce. We will meet again as enemies in the proper season and without catastrophe hanging above our heads like the sword of fate of old. Each within their true time then,” agreed Amadan after a moment. Obvious disappointment came through clearly in the tone of the words.
The flames abruptly died out. Rather than the flames going out by her will, Brighid felt energy twisting. The flames suddenly became ice cold water that splashed down into her cupped hands. Shaking her head, she let the water escape her fingers to the floor. She absently wiped her hands on her knees while Dagda seemed lost in thought. Finally he came back from whatever road his thoughts had taken him down and smiled at his daughter. Offer her his hand, he lifted it to his lips briefly and then helped her to her feet.
“It seems we have united the land once more. Only Morrigan is against us. Things could be worse. The Fool could have insisted on making demands I would have been loath to concede. As it stands now, he is an ally for the moment. Let us go finish preparing, for the morrow brings battle such as the land has not seen in centuries,” stated Dagda with a sad smile.
Brighid nodded without saying anything more. It was all said and only the doing remained. She was pleased that she had found the lads and that they were basically sound. Knowing that Morrigan planned an ambush and where that would happen was slightly off-putting but useful in the end. There was a lot to do before the next day’s battle. None of the Elders would get much sleep this night, not that they needed a tremendous amount. Brighid turned toward the door and placed her hand on Dagda’s arm. Together they left the hall to the darkness of night.
***
Dagda listened as the raven elder reported on the state of things outside of the city. Many of the smaller villages near the ice wall had moved further inward to places closer to the city. What was interesting was that Amadan’s army was utterly missing. Not so much as a feather or hair remained in the passes or anywhere along the glacial barrier. If the raven was to be believed, Amadan had withdrawn without a real fight. This surprised Dagda immensely. Never before in the history of the land had The Fool given up without a real fight or some other catastrophic event.
He was also disturbed that Morrigan was missing as well. None had seen her since soon after Lugh returned just after the ice wall was set up. Dagda hoped she was not in trouble. Still, she was well able to fend for herself, as proven time and again through the centuries. She was also more than able to return if she so chose. A buried suspicion though was slowly dawning on Dagda. He left the raven in his tree and returned to the hall.
Pacing down the hall, he took his seat among the Elders. More chairs were placed for the chieftains of the other races. Oberon had used his magic to grow to a suitable size, as had Fergus of the Lurikeen. Also accommodations for the water-bound were made without fuss. Looking around the circle, Dagda let his gaze linger on Brighid. She might have a means of determining the truth of his thoughts. She caught him watching her and smiled. He nodded.
“Amadan has retreated. His army no longer seeks entry to the valley. And his pressure on the seasons has ceased. Something has altered his goals and his attention is elsewhere,” Dagda informed the council. Murmurs and excitement swept the circle of seats at his words.
King Aemon of the Merrow, Lady Sioned of the Sylphs and Queen Deirdre of the Dryads exchanged glances. After the two women inclined their heads to him by way of permission, King Aemon cleared his voice. The rest of the council quieted as they waited to hear his words. The shared looks had not gone unnoticed by the more observant among those seated in the circle. Dagda was especially interested in what that particular trio might have in common cause to speak. Their normal contact was rather limited outside of councils such as this.
“The Queen of the Dryads, the Lady of the Sylphs and myself find ourselves sharing disturbing news concerning our people. A number of our people have been coerced magically into serving one of the Tuatha Dé Danan. Several have died at the hands of others of your folk,” King Aemon reported. His face, while dry, still held a hint of his watery nature. That face was drawn in painful sorrow relating the deaths.
“A number of dryads died by Tuatha Dé Danan hands and some of my Merrow in fighting a peist that was geased to them. This seems related to the missing mortal you spoke of. Or so it seems to us. Where are the other Elders of your clan?” asked the Merrow king somewhat sharply.
“Aye, you are missing at least three, to our way of reckoning. The rest are accounted for elsewhere one way nor another,” piped up Fergus of the Lurikeen.
“Amadan’s departure could perhaps be a ruse?” asked Lady Sioned. Her question was out of sync with the others, but she was often like her element, blown this way and that without warning.
Dagda considered how to answer the various questions. The relationship between the different races was complex, often volatile and could erupt into chaos at a moment’s notice. It was inconceivable to ignore them altogether, but he was momentarily at a loss how to come at it. Answers were owed. The responsibility was his. Grimly, Dagda decided directness was best this time.
“Ecne and Aongas are off seeking the mortal Graham at Loch na Ceathrú. Brighid did a scrying and placed him there. The only one I cannot put a hand to right now is Morrigan. She often goes about her own business without consulting the council. Though, doing so now, of all times, seems foolish. With Amadan laying siege here and always willing to take on the Elders, her absence worries me,” offered Dagda, choosing to address the larger problem first. “Have any seen her since Lugh returned?”
Whispered conferences were held as all compared memory of when last the Queen of Battles was seen. It took only moments for everyone to agree that Morrigan was not seen since the hour after Lugh returned with his news of the barrier. None had seen her leave, nor the manner of that leaving. Dagda wondered if her leaving was what drew Amadan from his goal of entering Cathair Crofhind. Did the Fool pursue her even now?
The door to the hall swung inward and a young man slipped through the barely parted doors quietly. He was ordinary enough, excepting that a small owl sat on his wrist, which was held carefully at chest level. The young man waited at the doors waiting for permission to come forward. Dagda waved him over and the youth came down the hall as quickly as he could without unseating the raptor.
“What is this, Cet?” Dagda asked the teen.
“Shinnon saw him fly in and told me to bring him directly to you. My mother says it bears word from Ecne meant for your ears. So, here I be,” explained Cet with a slightly nervous glance at the council seated around him. He bobbed his head to the women and grinned at the men.
“Thank you, lad. Now off with you. Tell your mother I said you both did well by getting this fine feathered fellow to me so quickly,” Dagda said as he dismissed the youth. He patted the boy’s shoulder and nodded toward the door.
“No trouble, none at all,” Cet replied impishly with a grin and fairly ran back to the doors and slipped through them again as silently as he had entered.
Dagda bent and tilted his head to the owl to listen to its soft speech. The assembled counselors waited quietly to see what news came next. His brow drew together in a stormy line as the owl reached the end of its messages. Murmuring, Dagda created a perch up among the rafters for the bird to rest until nightfall. That act of magic told him that part of what Ecne guessed was true. Magic was becoming more difficult to use with each passing day. Soon it would fail and the land with it. All of the creatures that relied on magic to live would die. And only one stood to benefit from such a turn of events. That also confirmed Morrigan’s treachery soundly enough for Dagda. A pain shot through his heart at the insight, but he pushed it down to be dealt with later, in private.
“Morrigan betrays the land and its peoples,” Dagda declared to the waiting council.
Gasps and cries of outrage erupted after a few seconds of eerie dead silence. Al began talking at once, calling out advice and suggestions on what to do about Morrigan. Still others asked for more details. Those of the Tuatha Dé Danan were pale with anger and despair. They kept mostly silent, knowing their king better than the others could. They listened as Dagda told them of Morrigan’s plot and her involvement of Amadan. Surprise was universal as he related Amadan’s change of heart and calling of the Wild Hunt after Morrigan. Shock washed over them when he explained the failing of magic and the mortal’s part in it.
“I have promised that the mortal may return home to his land. I also swore that if he did not leave, he must die. One way or another, the barrier between the worlds must be repaired. So long as he lives on this side of it, we are in danger. Will you help in this crisis? Will you lend your support and people to this end? For we all fall if any holds apart,” Dagda stated as he looked at each in turn.
“I and my people will stand with you,” said Oberon into the silence.
“The Lurikeen can do no less,” growled Fergus after a swift sideways glance at his rival.
“We stand with you,” said Deirdre and Sioned together. Their combined voices brought to mind rippling leaves on a breeze.
“I know not how we might help, but what we can do shall be done,” called Aemon.
Donovan nodded, “It is well that mine can take human form. We will stand with you and represent the Merrow if they are willing to arm us.”
“Aye and done,” shot back Aemon with a fierce approving grin. “Travel time is the issue.”
“Since you all come to the defense of the land and so swiftly, we of the Tuatha Dé Danan will supply the magic to speed your travel. It is owed you all. We own the betrayal. Lír and Lugh will aid the water folk. Áine and Dian Cécht help the Flower folk and Sylphs. Brighid and I will see to the Dryads and Lurikeen,” ordered Dagda. His people nodded their agreement. A debt was owed by their clan due to the abominable act of Morrigan that caused harm to the others.
The sub-kings and queens agreed about the fairness of Dagda and accepted gratefully the help he offered. Their help would be all the more powerful for the conservation of their strength until needed. With magical travel arranged for, they could gather quickly at any place determined by need. Dagda was proving why he was king over all and a good one.
“Brighid, I need you to scry. Find the lads. And then find where Morrigan intends to stop them. We need to reach her before they do,” Dagda said quietly to his daughter.
“Aye, father. It can be done, especially if The Fool stays out of it.”
“Have you sent messengers to the Fir Bolg?” asked Oberon. “They may be willing to help also.”
“No, I sent a messenger when the troubles with Amadan and the seasons began. They told her it was no problem of theirs and we were welcome to keep it ours,” answered Dagda with disgust.
“Ah, shortsighted folk, as always,” nodded Oberon with obvious disappointment.
“Exactly so. As ever they have been. Just as well they stay put. I could not trust them not to swing a sword, accidentally, at the wrong head in the heat of battle,” Dagda said with a rueful chuckle. “So, are we in accord then? Once we know where to send our people, we will call you to the place of battle through the magic.”
Nods of agreement went the rounds of the chairs. Each of the Elders went to their assigned groups and worked out the details of the summoning for when it would come time. Once everyone knew their plans, they were sent back to their people to prepare as much as they could. Time was short and much would depend on their speedy action. All of the Elders, save Dagda and Brighid, then left the hall to get what rest they could before the coming battle. The two remaining in the hall drew chairs nearer the hearth with its perpetual fire.
“Seek the boys, iníon. Find them and tell me where they are now. Then we will seek the place that old battle harridan plans to bushwhack them. We can then put a spike in her chariot wheel,” murmured Dagda.
Brighid nodded. She tossed her head and whipped her thick braid over her shoulder to get it out of her way. She cupped her hands and murmured. Soon flames danced over her palms, leaping and twisting. The flames eventually formed figures as she and her father watched intently. Three men took shape and then the two horses. The flames moved in simulated movement and it was plain that they were at as close to a gallop as the woods allowed. Dagda grunted in satisfaction as the scene shrank and the woods clouded them. Then they shrank still more. Soon Dagda was able to place where they were. Two days ride from where Lugh said the breach was that the mortal must be returned through.
Dagda patted Brighid’s shoulder and nodded. Brighid released the scene and the flames melded together again. After a moment, the reformed, showing the same scene from high above the fleeing figures. The writhing flames began moving again, showing the direction they were going and moving away from them swiftly. Down it drifted, fast as falcon’s flight until Dagda was able to judge that the focus of the flames was perhaps a day from the barrier at the place needed. Brighid’s forehead was beading with sweat now. Immense effort was being spent to give Dagda the information he sought from his daughter. Sure that everything needed was seen, she began releasing the flames again.
The scene blurred and the flames shrank toward her palms. Before expiring, they suddenly flared. An older man sat on a stallion, cupped within her trembling palms. The Fool was once more hi-jacking the scrying. Dagda frowned and Brighid winced. Amadan’s power stung and Brighid was fighting to shut it down before she received real hurt from it.
“Stay a moment, lass. I would speak with the Ard Ri,” the flame figure said. There was a hissing tonal quality to the words, perhaps because it was the fire supplying the sound.
“I hear you, Fool,” Dagda rasped angrily.
“The Queen of Battles has offended my honor. I seek restitution from her directly. I am no longer interested in anything else. As partial payment of her debt, I grace the mortal with time spent unharried by her as she is busy fleeing me. Though, she has evaded the Hunt with some skill. My creatures will support yours at the appointed hour,” explained Amadan from the palms of Brighid’s hands.
“Truce between us then?” asked Dagda.
“Aye, truce. We will meet again as enemies in the proper season and without catastrophe hanging above our heads like the sword of fate of old. Each within their true time then,” agreed Amadan after a moment. Obvious disappointment came through clearly in the tone of the words.
The flames abruptly died out. Rather than the flames going out by her will, Brighid felt energy twisting. The flames suddenly became ice cold water that splashed down into her cupped hands. Shaking her head, she let the water escape her fingers to the floor. She absently wiped her hands on her knees while Dagda seemed lost in thought. Finally he came back from whatever road his thoughts had taken him down and smiled at his daughter. Offer her his hand, he lifted it to his lips briefly and then helped her to her feet.
“It seems we have united the land once more. Only Morrigan is against us. Things could be worse. The Fool could have insisted on making demands I would have been loath to concede. As it stands now, he is an ally for the moment. Let us go finish preparing, for the morrow brings battle such as the land has not seen in centuries,” stated Dagda with a sad smile.
Brighid nodded without saying anything more. It was all said and only the doing remained. She was pleased that she had found the lads and that they were basically sound. Knowing that Morrigan planned an ambush and where that would happen was slightly off-putting but useful in the end. There was a lot to do before the next day’s battle. None of the Elders would get much sleep this night, not that they needed a tremendous amount. Brighid turned toward the door and placed her hand on Dagda’s arm. Together they left the hall to the darkness of night.
***