Читать книгу: «Elphame's Choice», страница 3

Chapter 2

“Cu, remind me why I agreed to let you come with me.” Elphame looked slantways at her brother and tried to increase her gait without being too obvious. He was singing what seemed like verse five hundred of a semi-raunchy military marching song and the never-ending chorus pounded through her right temple in time with her headache, almost making her wish she had not insisted that the two of them travel separate from the rest of their party.

The big buckskin gelding on which Cuchulainn rode automatically picked up his pace to match El’s long strides. Her brother’s infectious laugh rang around them. “I came, sister-mine, to protect you.”

Elphame gave an unlady-like snort. “Oh, please, spare me. Protect me? It’s more likely you needed a break from chasing the temple maidens hither and yon.”

“Hither and yon?” His handsome face broke into a boyish grin. “Did you really say hither and yon?” He shook his head in mock seriousness. “I knew you were spending too much time reading those tomes in mother’s library. And it’s not the maidens I’d be after.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his sister.

Elphame tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile as she gave him a fond look. “Next you’ll be reminding me that you don’t have to chase any woman anywhere.”

“Now that, sister-mine, is the simple truth…” He let the words trail off and grinned at her.

“Hmm, I thought you might be staying at home to welcome the…” Elphame cleared her throat and tossed back her hair, doing a perfect imitation of their mother’s tone of voice as well as her body language. “…lovely and unmarried daughter of the Chieftain of Woulff Castle who will be sojourning at Epona’s Temple on the way to begin her training at the Temple of the Muse.”

Cuchulainn’s mouth tightened, and for an instant Elphame regretted her teasing. Then, with his usual good humor he shrugged his shoulders and gave her a long-suffering grin.

“Her name is Beatrice, sister-mine. Can you image anyone named Beatrice not having a high forehead and regal carriage?” He spoke the words putting a simper in his deep voice, which made Elphame laugh out loud.

“She’s probably a very handsome woman,” El said through giggles.

“No doubt fertile, with ample hips and the ability to bear many children.”

Brother and sister exchanged looks of complete understanding.

“I’ll be glad when Arianrhod and Finegas are old enough for Mama to start matchmaking for them.” El said in a tone that sounded more serious than she had intended.

Cuchulainn sighed heavily. “The twins will be eighteen this summer. In three more years Mother will be in her matchmaking glory.”

El slanted a look at Cu. “Poor kids. It almost makes me wish we hadn’t picked on them so much when we were children.”

“Almost!” Cuchulainn laughed. “At least we’re all in this together—it’s not like Mother singles out one of us.”

Elphame just smiled at him and quickened the pace again, forcing herself temporarily ahead of her brother on the narrowing trail. But it’s not the same for me. Thoughts whirred incessantly through her restless mind. Her siblings were humans—attractive, talented, sought-after humans. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to picture Cuchulainn. His face was as familiar to her as her own—and very like her own. She smiled wryly. Cu was just a year and a half younger, and from the waist up they, too, could be twins. He had her high, well-defined cheekbones, but where hers were delicate and feminine, his were ruggedly masculine. Her chin was (according to their mother) rather defiant, and his was stubborn and proud (according to his eldest sister), complete with an adorable cleft. Instead of his sister’s sable eyes and dark auburn tresses, he had eyes that were a unique color shaded somewhere between blue and green, and thick, sandycolored hair that refused to give up its childish cowlicks. So he kept it slicked back and cropped short, which made their mother cluck and complain over the waste of not letting it grow like a proper warrior’s.

But Cuchulainn, son of Midhir, High Shaman and Centaur Warrior Lord, did not have to be a “proper warrior.” Named after one of Partholon’s ancient heroes, he already looked and acted the part, whether he always behaved properly or not. Tall and well-formed, he excelled at tournaments, was the finest human swordsman in Partholon and had never been bested in archery. Elphame had heard more than one young maiden sigh longingly and say that he must indeed be Cuchulainn reincarnated.

No, Cu had never lacked for female companionship. He had just not yet found his lifemate. Elphame’s shapely lips tilted up. “But not for lack of trying,” she muttered to herself.

That was one way she was very unlike her brother. He was suave and experienced with the opposite sex. She had never been kissed.

Even her youngest siblings, whom she and Cu had nicknamed the Little Scholars, had no trouble finding partners for moon rituals. While Arianrhod and Finegas weren’t as athletic as their older brother and sister, they were certainly growing into intelligent, poised young adults. Looking almost like mirror images of each other, their tall, graceful bodies were completely human—totally normal. And, Elphame admitted to herself, Arianrhod was as pretty as Fin was handsome.

The path that cut through the ancient forest curved to the right and widened. Cuchulainn urged his gelding to his sister’s side.

“She reminds me of Mama,” El said suddenly.

Cu looked around in surprise. “Who?”

El rolled her eyes. She always expected her brother to read her mind, and was annoyed the few times he didn’t. “Arianrhod, who else? That’s why the boys already moon over her. Of course it’s not like she cares or even notices—not unless she’s completely changed during her first term at the Temple of the Muse.”

Her brother’s turquoise eyes crinkled with his smile. “Arianrhod’s head will always be in the clouds.”

“Astronomy and astrology are inexorably linked to the Fates, and as such it is wise to study them carefully.” El mimicked their younger sister.

Cu laughed. “That’s one of our Little Scholars, all right. The irony is that young, besotted men will chase her all the harder because of her indifference. You see the maidens are already starting to follow Fin around, and his beard is still like duck’s down.”

“Well, for whatever reason they certainly like her a lot.”

Cuchulainn looked closely at his sister. “Are you all right?”

“Of course,” she answered automatically without meeting his eyes.

“It will be different here, Fawn,” he said quietly.

“I know.” She glanced quickly over at him, and then just as quickly looked away, afraid that he would see the tears that were beginning to make her eyes too bright.

“No, I mean it.” His serious tone caused her to slow her stride so she could listen more carefully. “You will find what you have always desired at MacCallan Castle. I have had a Feeling.”

Her brother’s words hung in the fragrant spring air. She knew exactly what he meant. It was a part of the code between them. Just as she was her Goddess Incarnate mother’s firstborn daughter, and therefore had been marked by Epona, Cuchulainn was truly the firstborn son of their shaman father. From an early age he had simply known things. When he was a child he had explained it to his sister by saying it was like he could hear words that were hidden in the wind. Sometimes this “wind” told him where lost items could be found. Sometimes it told him when someone was coming to visit the temple. And sometimes it foretold portentous news, like the untimely death of a beloved child or the breaking of a blood-given oath.

The preternatural knowledge had frightened the young Cuchulainn. It wasn’t an enemy he could best with the prowess of his muscles or outwit through his cunning. It was something that made him feel like an aberration; it gave him power he hadn’t asked for and didn’t have any desire to wield.

It was a thing his older sister understood all too well.

So he had come to Elphame whenever he’d had a Feeling about something or someone. And his sister had empathized with his fear. She had not turned from him—instead she had become his closest confidante, even though Elphame’s attitude toward things of the spirit realm was decidedly different than his. She was, after all, a physical manifestation of the magic of the Goddess. She didn’t understand why her brother would reject gifts from the spirit realm, especially when she longed to feel even a whisper of the power her mother wielded so easily, but she supported his desire to do so with a calm, no-nonsense attitude. As he grew older, Cuchulainn had learned to repress his burgeoning psychic abilities and not allow them to overwhelm him.

Now Elphame looked searchingly at her brother. He’d never lied to her before. And his Feeling had never been wrong.

“Do you promise?” she asked a little breathlessly, the sudden flush that suffused her cheeks the only outward sign that betrayed her inner excitement.

“Yes.” He nodded tightly.

Joy surged through Elphame. “I knew restoring MacCallan Castle was the right thing to do!” Then she gave him a sisterly glare, thinking of all the cajoling it had taken to get their mother to agree to let her go. “You couldn’t have shared this knowledge with Mama?”

“If I had told Mother that I knew you would meet your destiny at MacCallan Castle do you think there would have been any force on Partholon that could have kept her from accompanying us there?”

“Excellent point,” Elphame agreed quickly. Then her thoughts navigated through her rush of emotions and she asked, “But why did you wait to tell me?”

Cuchulainn’s forehead furrowed in thought and he answered her slowly. “The Feeling is indistinct.” Then, seeing his sister’s face fall in disappointment he hurried on to try and explain. “No, it doesn’t make it any less certain. I know you’ll meet your destiny at MacCallan Castle. I know that destiny is tied up in your lifemate, but when I try to focus on details about the man I get only fog and confusion.” He shook his head and smiled sheepishly at Elphame. “Maybe that’s because you’re my sister and knowing details about your love life is actually pretty disturbing.”

“I know exactly what you mean. When the maidens wax poetic about your various body parts—” she shuddered and made a face “—I cover my ears and run screaming in the opposite direction.”

“Hrumph.” He huffed at her succinctly, chuckling in spite of himself, glad his sister had stopped asking specific questions about the Feeling.

He had struggled with what to say to El about his vision. He knew it caused his beloved sister pain to believe that she would never find a mate, and he knew that he had to tell her about his Feeling. It was clear to him that she would meet her lifemate and her destiny at MacCallan Castle, but he also knew there was more to it than simply falling in love. A part of his premonition had been vague and ominous. It had been nothing like the typical “love” visions he had received in the past, which were usually glimpses of a friend in a young woman’s arms, followed by a Feeling that the two people belonged together.

He had experienced a vision of his sister in a man’s arms, but he had been unable to see the man. Maybe that was because the first thing he had been able to see clearly was the look of tender happiness that radiated from his sister’s usually serious face, and that particular vision had been so surprising that his concentration had been irreparably fractured. Maybe not. And, yes, there had been a definite Feeling that the two were meant to be together. When he tried to refocus the scene and study the man, the vision had been bathed in a blinding scarlet light, as if the scene had been dipped in blood. Then, just as quickly, it had been covered in darkness, like the lovers had been wrapped in a velvet curtain, and the man had faded away, leaving his sister alone.

How very like the realm of spirits, to leave him with unanswered questions and a sense of unease. He had always loathed the elusive, slippery nature of the power. It wasn’t like the sure weight of a sword, or the clear aim of an arrow.

Cuchulainn swallowed past a suddenly dry throat, glad Elphame had, once again, pulled ahead of him. She read his expressions too easily. He didn’t want her to see that his latest vision had reached into his soul and truly frightened him with its strange, red-tinged whisperings. He flexed his right hand. He could feel the phantom weight of his claymore as in his mind he gripped it and held it at the ready.

Yes. Lifemate or not, Cuchulainn was prepared to protect his sister from all who might cause her harm.

Chapter 3

“I do not understand why we couldn’t have stayed in Loth Tor with the rest of the workers,” Cuchulainn complained as he fed another dry log into their campfire.

“I thought warriors were supposed to be so thick-skinned that they could sleep on beds of thistles without wincing,” Elphame quipped and tossed him the wineskin. “Have a drink. Remember, Mama packed the wine,” she added meaningfully.

“Warriors like soft beds just as much as anyone else,” he grumbled, but took the wineskin and drank deeply. “Mother’s love of wine has been a blessing this trip. But it doesn’t make up for the absence of a down-filled bed.” Or a lusty young widow in that bed, he thought.

“Cu, you’re just mad because that plump blonde was obviously offering you more than another helping of her excellent stew.”

“Being a young widow is a lonely burden to bear.”

“Not while you’re around.” She laughed. “Oh, come on. Don’t pout. I want to watch the sun as it rises over my castle, and I don’t want to do it with a group of centaurs and men staring at me while they invent demons lurking in every shadow.”

Cuchulainn grunted in response, took another long drink of wine and tossed the skin back to his sister. He poked the fire and quit complaining. He was used to Elphame’s solitary ways, and he understood the reasons behind them. She had spent her life being revered because she had been touched by the Goddess; she was a being that had never before been created. It wasn’t that she was ever treated cruelly—actually it was just the opposite. She awed people, especially people who were not accustomed to the sight of her. Most of the workers who had accompanied them were from the area around Epona’s Temple, so they merely treated her with careful respect and kept their distance. But during the five days of travel from Epona’s Temple to MacCallan Castle, Cuchulainn had noticed how the people would stop whatever they were doing and rush to the road, bowing so low as “the young goddess, Elphame” passed that they practically buried their heads in the grassy meadows surrounding the main road. And as they drew nearer their destination, new people and centaurs had begun joining their party, eager for the opportunities that would surround the reestablishment of MacCallan Castle. Their reaction to his sister was always the same—more awe and staring. Cuchulainn knew that was why Elphame had insisted that the two of them leave the road and follow the smaller, rougher path that ran through the forest. To El, fewer people equated to less chance of being worshipped, and that was a good thing.

Brother and sister had camped under the stars and hadn’t stopped in any of the sleepy little villages that dotted the land between vineyards and pastures, until they had come to Loth Tor, the village that nestled at the base of the plateau on which MacCallan Castle stood. That night they had rejoined their party and all of them had dined at the Mare’s Inn, the town’s only tavern, where it seemed the entire populace had paraded through, each reverently bowing to Elphame. Some asked if they could please touch the young goddess, some just stared openmouthed. Cuchulainn had watched his sister nod politely to each one of them, acquiescing graciously to their desire to worship her. Only he seemed to notice the unnatural tension in her shoulders and the rigid way she held herself. To Cu it looked as though if she moved too quickly she might shatter.

When the meal was over she had said she felt the need to sleep under the stars and to be alone with her brother and Epona. He knew she added the Goddess’s name so that the town wouldn’t follow her and continue to stare. Wordlessly he had saddled his tired gelding and kicked it into a gallop, scrambling to keep up with Elphame as she retreated from the village.

“It will get better after you’ve been here for a while, you know,” he said quietly.

She sighed heavily. “You’d think I would get used to it.” She took another sip of the excellent wine before tossing it back to her brother. “I don’t, though.” She raised her brows at him and added, “Hard to believe my destiny is around here.”

“Stranger things have happened,” he said lightly, not wanting to talk about his vision or her potential mate.

“Such as?” she asked.

“Such as the fact that we have the same parents, but I’m human and you’re part-horse,” he replied promptly.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m part-centaur, not part-horse.” But she didn’t argue further.

“Get some sleep,” he told her. “You’ll need all your energy tomorrow. I’ll stay awake and watch over the fire.” And over you, he added silently to himself. His sister’s tension may have lessened with their departure from the town, but his own warrior instincts had him feeling wary and restless.

Why couldn’t he get a clear picture of his sister’s future? Why had his vision been so dark and indistinct? And why had it seemed to be drenched in blood?

Elphame curled up on her side, looking snug and comfortable in her bedroll. “You can’t fool me, Cuchulainn.” Her eyes were closed and her voice was a whisper, but the gentle night breeze brought her words clearly to him. “This is more of that I-must-protect-my-sister warrior stuff.”

“Now that definitely sounds like something Mother would say,” he told her, and then added under his breath, “It’s about time you noticed.”

His sister’s lips were lifted in a soft smile as she fell deeply asleep.

Elphame dreamed that her lover came to her within a dark mist, which wrapped itself around her as if the night had grown wings, and though she trembled at his touch she wasn’t afraid. Willingly, she offered herself to the mist, and it bent to her and drank of her love as they flew into the velvet blackness of the midnight sky and made their bed together amidst the stars.

“I knew it would be amazing.” Elphame sighed happily. “Oh, Cu, look at my castle!”

They were standing at the edge of the pine forest that ringed the land side of the plateau on which the MacCallan Castle had been built. The tart, clean smell of pine mixed with the salty scent of ocean and seemed to wash everything in brilliance, making the green of the forest lush and layered, the blue and white of the ocean crystalline and elegant as it crashed against the rocks far below. The castle loomed before them, looking imposing in its rocky perch on the edge of the magnificent coastal cliff.

Elphame stared at her new home, letting her eyes drink in the wonder of that first sight. Surrounded by row after row of redbud and dogwood trees in full bloom, as well as overgrown scrub and clumps of blackberry bushes gone wild, the castle looked like it should have been housing a fairy creature who had been sleeping for centuries and was just waiting for the kiss of her true love to awaken her.

A little like me. Elphame surprised herself with the blatantly romantic thought. But the sight before her, coupled with her brother’s premonition, had her feeling uncharacteristically romantic. And, she realized with a start, it was a feeling she thought she might enjoy.

Was this what she had been missing all those years? she mused silently. This breathless, waiting excitement? Like someone was just about to turn a key within her and unlock something magical?

The sun was beginning to climb above the trees. As Elphame watched, the dreamy pink and cream of the early morning sky morphed into the more mature gold and blue of a clear spring day. All at once she was filled with an incredible sense of hope, as if the dawn of that day was a promise of a new beginning for her, as well. A blessing that she had heard her mother offer to Epona many times drifted through her mind and suddenly she heard herself repeating it aloud—though her words were little more than a tentative whisper.

“Great Goddess Epona, my Goddess,

I stand here at a newborn day,

a day filled with Your magic.

I stand at a threshold, before Your veil of mysteries,

and I ask for Your blessing.

May I work for Your glory

and the glory of my spirit, also.”

Cuchulainn was silent during his sister’s prayer—partially out of respect for Epona, and partially out of surprise. Until then he had never heard his sister evoke Epona’s blessing. Truthfully, Elphame had seemed to prefer to avoid all mention of the Goddess who had so obviously touched her. Until that morning. Then, although Cuchulainn could barely hear the words of her prayer, he could feel the distinct tingle of magic in the air—as he had many times when his mother performed Epona’s rituals.

If she had looked at her brother, El would have seen the shock that widened his eyes, but she did not even glance at him. She was mesmerized by the beauty of the morning and the burgeoning feeling within her that she was just beginning to recognize as a sense of belonging. Suddenly the sun broke free of the tall pines and its rays washed the castle’s walls in golden light, causing them to catch fire.

“Do you see it, Cu? It’s like the walls are glowing.”

“What’s left of them, you mean.” Still surprised by the new power radiating from his sister, his voice sounded gruffer than he had intended. He cleared his throat, squinting to get a better look at the crumbling edifice. To him the castle looked like a ragged old beast crouched precariously on the edge of the seaside cliff. “El, don’t get your hopes up. Even from here I can see that the place is in ruins. We have a lot of work to do.”

She punched his arm affectionately. “Stop being Mama. Come on, let’s hurry.” She leaped ahead, and Cuchulainn kneed his big gelding, scrambling to catch up with the lithe form of his sister.

They plowed determinedly through the sticky underbrush until they found the road that led to the castle’s front entrance. It was easier going there, but Cuchulainn still muttered under his breath at the rough weeds and smattering of trees that choked the once wide, clear pathway.

“Oh, stop grumbling and look at these amazing trees!” Elphame chided her brother as she slowed down and spun in a circle, trying to look everywhere at once. “I had no idea it would be so beautiful.” Even more than a century of neglect could not diminish the breathtaking sight of so many redbuds and wild cherries heavy with blooms. “It’s like walking through a forest of pink clouds.”

“Clouds don’t usually have thickets of brambles in them.” He pointed at the thorny plants that clustered amidst the scrub that proliferated between the trees.

“They’re not brambles, Cu, they’re blackberries. A little trimming and they’ll be fine. Just think of the wonderful cobbler and pies we can have this summer.”

“After you get a kitchen built, you mean,” he muttered.

She flashed him a quick smile. “I’ll get it built.”

Cuchulainn thought that the determination in her voice was probably stronger than the walls of the castle to which she already seemed so firmly attached.

“And you know I’ve always liked the forest.” She twirled again, head thrown back, dark auburn hair flying around her like a cloak. “The pines are wonderful, but I think these flowering trees are even more incredible.”

He shook his head at her and spoke with a warrior’s knowledge. “Surely you are not planning on letting this stand? For all your study of history, your memory doesn’t seem very exact. One of the major mistakes of MacCallan Castle was that they allowed their defenses to weaken.” The sweep of his arm took in the profusion of blooming trees. “MacCallan let this grow to his walls. The Fomorian army had no trouble staying undetected until they had breached the castle walls and begun slaughtering its inhabitants.”

Elphame opened her mouth to retort that they weren’t at war; there hadn’t been a Fomorian in Partholon for a hundred and twenty-five years. No one would try to breach her walls. But Partholon hadn’t been at war before, either. Not until MacCallan Castle had been taken by surprise. Yes, the Fomorians had been defeated, and what was left of their demonic race had been driven from Partholon through the Trier Mountains and into the Wasteland beyond. If she traveled northeast to the mountains she knew she would find that Guardian Castle still stood grim sentinel, eternally protecting the passageway to Partholon.

But one hundred and twenty-five years was a long time, and except for clan skirmishes and occasional raids from the barbaric, seagoing Milesians, Partholon had known a long era of peace and prosperity, and there was no logical reason why that wouldn’t continue.

Elphame studied her brother, ready to remind him of the facts she had just ticked off in her head. He seemed tense; his usually clear brow was set in lines and she could see his jaw clench and unclench as he waited for her to speak.

“The Milesians, are they what is worrying you?” she asked slowly.

He shrugged. “I cannot tell. But your castle does overlook the sea. You would be proving yourself a wise and prudent leader if you made certain that MacCallan was defensible.” As he spoke he didn’t look at her, instead he scanned the forest around them as if he expected a barbaric horde to leap from the flowering trees and slit their throats.

Elphame felt a small shiver of unease. Something had obviously shaken her brother’s normally calm center. He may not have experienced a true Feeling, complete with visions and a clear warning, but something was bothering him. Even though he consistently avoided the spirit realm and hated to tap into his psychic powers, he respected them—as did Elphame.

She nodded. “You’re right, thank you for reminding me. Most of this must be cut and cleared.” Her voice was sober and thoughtful. “I will, of course, need your advice on how the defenses of the castle should be rebuilt.” She gave the trees one quick look of longing. “Do you think we could keep any of this, though?”

“A grove or two far enough away from the castle walls shouldn’t hurt anything.” He relaxed a little and smiled at her, surprised she had given in so easily. “And your blackberries can remain. They hold more thorns than protection for an enemy.”

“Good, then we will have blackberry cobbler after all!” She smiled back at him, relieved that he sounded more like his playful self. Cu was probably just being ultracareful and overprotective of her, as usual.

The road curved gently to the left. When it straightened they found themselves standing less than fifty feet from the front entrance of the castle. The massive iron doors that legend still remembered as having never been barred to guests were gone. They had rusted and disintegrated. Elphame could see fragments of their remains lying amidst a tangle of weeds and vines. Only the jagged frame of the great entryway remained, giving the break in the thick walls the look of a mouth that was missing its front teeth.

The walls themselves were surprisingly intact, or at least what could be seen of them from their frontal view looked fairly sturdy and solid. Some balustrades were crumbling, and there were no archer’s ramps. The parts of the roofing that had been made of wood were gone, but the skeleton of the castle remained standing, strong and proud.

“It looks better than I thought it would.” Cuchulainn broke the stillness of the waiting air.

“It’s perfect.” Elphame’s voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement.

“El, it is in better shape than I expected it to be, but it’s still a ruin!” He was exasperated with her blind optimism. Not only was it a ridiculous attitude in the face of the rundown edifice in front of them, but it was totally unlike the sister he knew. Before he could say more she put out her hand, lightly touching his arm.

“Don’t you Feel it?” Her voice was hushed.

Cuchulainn started in surprise. Although his sister had been physically touched by the Goddess, she had never exhibited any special link to Epona or the magical realm of spirits. Actually, except for her unique body, Elphame had no powers that attached her to the spirit realm at all. Her brother watched her closely.

“What do you mean, El?”

Her eyes never left the castle, but her hand still rested on his arm and he could feel the tremor that passed through her body. His horse stood suddenly very still. The gentle breeze had quieted; even the birds were preternaturally silent.

“It’s calling me.” His sister’s voice sounded very young. “Not with words, but I can Feel it.” She tore her eyes from the castle to look searchingly at her brother. “It’s like the first time Mama had to perform a moon ritual at another Temple. Remember?” She rushed on before he could answer. “She had never really been away from us before, not for that long, and she was gone five nights. When she finally came home we called her name and rushed to meet her before she could even get to the Temple stairs. She hugged us and kissed us and laughed through her tears. Do you remember?” she asked again.

Cu nodded his head and smiled. “I remember.”