Storm Maker [The Dawn of Ireland 1] Page 2

  I moved my head almost imperceptibly and watched Liam through my lashes. I had been astonished to find him on board as I woke this morning, for we had not seen each other for several months, ever since the Fair of Tara. I knew he wanted to rekindle our old embers, now almost burned out, for he had seized me and tried to kiss me. But I found myself still provoked at him—and besides, my mind was full of Kevan’s embraces—so I had moved well out of reach of his attentions.

  Just now he was talking to Michael, who faithfully translated his lyrical cadence, but his words were meant for me. How odd, I thought, to find myself reliving my first few days on the soil of Éire through the eyes and voice of…almost a stranger.

  And yet, he was a stranger whose mustache had often tickled my face, whose lips and tongue I had tasted, and savored, more than once. Something stirred in my stomach. I listened closely as he spoke, and his cousin translated.

  “Not one of the strangers could speak our tongue for all their intent to settle on our dear land. I told her with hand signs that I would stay as hostage, while half me men left to bring her people to her. I could see that the brazen lass still did not trust us—but she agreed to let me be surrounded by undrawn weapons while six of me boys walked to Glenderry.

  “That night the redhead’s mate squatted next to me and pointed at me shillelagh. I saw by his bearing and his short sword that he knew a thing or two about weapons, and I drew me blackthorn and handed it to him. He felt the heft and took a few practice swings. I saw that he was fast as fire.

  “Ask not why I did it, lad. Me pride came all bursting to the surface, and I showed the pale man a few moves with the shillelagh. As soon as he repeated me moves I knew I should have kept me weapon in me belt, for he handled the stick like a very clansman, with no practice at all.

  “I stood guard, watching—what? Me boys were snoring, and so I kept watch over their noisy sleep. But now that the skinny girl’s mate had taken me measure, I needed to keep a grim eye on me lads.”

  Was Liam lying? I well remembered standing sentry that night. But I did not remember seeing Liam so dedicated to his lads! How strange to hear the cocky clansman’s side of my own story!

  “I could not believe what happened next. For as I stood guard the next morning, I saw nine more currachs, all with sails of rose and yellow, sail into the little cove. Now instead of thirty, I beheld three hundred. And would ye believe they were singing a ditty I remembered from a boy, all about returning home, as though this was their home, and not our own!

  “In that moment, I thought I had taken their measure, as sure as the pale warrior had taken mine. They had come to Éire in peace, but they were bent on staying here, and—who knows?—perhaps bent on replacing all they met with their own—their own language, their houses, their very people.

  “I sang with them, word for word, but in me own dear tongue, as though I sang to me own lost home.

  “So pack me for home, home

  so pack me for home.

  Sure an’ I’ll be home

  and never to roam

  when me cup runs out of wine, wine

  when me cup runs out of wine-O!”

  “I tell ye, Michael, me eye held a tear in that moment, but the strangers knew it not.”

  For the first time since Liam had begun to speak, I felt a pang of compassion, and some of my old feelings for the half-wild young man returned in spite of my resolve. His dear home was being invaded, all in the name of peace and Patrick, but invaded nonetheless.

  His words were all the more touching to me when I thought about my mission. My pilgrims and I had become what we were running from—interlopers, intruders, the takers of homes.

  I looked at him fully then, and he returned my gaze. His eyes held a fierceness that I had not seen before, and I felt, after almost a year, I had just this moment begun to know him. Our kisses had told each other all about joy and love, but not about the other stuff of life—-the sorrow of loss, the pang of regret, the fear of the unknown.

  Liam’s voice was silent for a while, and Michael settled down on the deck of the longship, whose very construction was his own life’s passion. Then Michael took up his translation again as Liam raised his eyes and voice to speak right at me.

  “So me boys returned with three priests from Glenderry, and the redhead, Caitlín, commenced to speaking with the head priest. Now she would find out that we were there not to harm her, but to put her people under the protection of our clans’ mantle, according to the wishes of King Daire of Ulster.

  “Now here is the strange part, Michael. The next day I lay all listening to one of me lads as he sang, and the cheeky lass knelt down next to me, all wanting to know me full name…all wanting to know about the love song I listened to. Hah! I could read her intent loud and clear, and I wondered why she was so brazen under the very eyes of her mate.

  “We spoke a while, using one of the priests as a go-between. Soon enough, she thought she had taken me measure, for I told her that no, I had no wife. And yes, I owned cattle and horses and land. So I knew then that she wanted to change mates, for I had more than her own man. I could read it all in her eyes, Michael, for I am no fool.”

  Now, reliving that moment, I was angry at the oaf all over again for deliberately misunderstanding my innocent questions. But he had not misread the interest in my eyes.

  “At last she would have me understand that the weapons man was just that—her guard. And then I knew a good game was up for the playing. I told her that yes, I accepted her proposal of marriage. I would be her mate. An’ sure I laughed to meself for days afterward when I thought about her response to me. Sure, I could tell she liked me very much indeed, and I enjoyed having the advantage on her.

  “For it took not long to see that the girl was beautiful under all that rough clothing. Her deep green eyes could pull a man under, I tell ye, like a drowning. And her bold mouth, Michael, it set me mind to spinning, what it could do…I thought I might win her after all, if I could but hold me banger steady.”

  I turned my face away from Liam again, regretting that I had relented even a little in my opinion of the rude bumpkin.

  “Sure enough, that very night, she seemed to find where I lay, trying to sleep. She pretended that she wanted to learn a few words like, ‘dia duit,’ hello, but I was intent on teaching her ‘póg dom,’ kiss me. And when I slipped me tongue into her sassy mouth, she did not say, ‘Ní, no, no, Liam.’”

  I had heard enough of his one-sided story. There were few places to retreat on the longship, but I pressed through standing and sitting passengers to the side opposite from Liam and his cousin. I watched the galley of rowers, now straining against a head wind, while I tried to still my own racing heart. What a liar he was!

  And yet if someone had been hidden behind the tree watching us that long-ago night, he would not know that Liam was wrong. It was all a matter of interpretation.

  Chapter 2:

  Unraveling the Past

  I supposed I was in a sense hiding from Liam, keeping to the opposite side of the longship from where he sat with his cousin. Morning was only half over, and I was starting to regret my decision to skip morning meal.

  Michael left his cousin’s side and strode over to where I was sitting, idly watching the cloud formations, thinking about my hunger.

  “Liam tells me ye have settled in Derry, and ye have land also on the northern promontory.”

  “Yes, Michael. Really not so far from your own home on the Lough Neagh.” I was proud of the way I had begun to pronounce the impossible language of Éire. Once, I thought the word endings were to be spoken almost harshly. Then I learned that they were soft, and almost melodious. The name of the lake sounded much like “loo nay.”

  “Ye know so much about me?”

  I had already decided to ask Michael about his trip to Éire, knowing the subject of his brother Fergus MacCool would be a sensitive one.

  “Michael, I learned it from the mouth of your own brother. Will you tell me w
hy you are here?”

  He surprised me by speaking directly, as though he needed to talk about it. “When Liam came to me last week, Caylith, I had not seen any member of me family for five years…”

  “None knew where I had gone, and I wanted it that way. When Liam told me how he came to know my location, you can imagine I was astounded. Was Éire so small that the very currach I built for you had brought him to me, and it brought the long-hidden truth besides?

  “One fine morning, I was putting the final shine on the timbers of the longship. I had decided to call her the Caylith, after a friend who had given me a new kind of purpose. She had room for sixteen rowers, eight a side. And fast? She was more a sleek fish than a boat, I tell ye. I had already stowed the possessions of fifty passengers in the sea chests, and all me rowers were ready to sit astride the chests in a few days’ time. Suddenly, behind me, I heard a voice that made tears spring to me eyes.

  “‘Michael MacCool. Ye spawn of a wolf hound, I have missed ye.’

  “I turned to see me cousin, Liam. An’ we fell into each other’s arms as though we were a man and his maiden. We were both all crying and laughing, too. The last time I had seen him, he was just becoming a man, not old enough to understand why I had left. He told me how he had found me through an unlikely source—the mouth of a young Christian monk.

  “The monk was a friend of Caylith—yes, you, my own friend, Caylith! And the monk with his own eyes had seen and heard me brother, Fergus, making a fool of himself with you.

  “Can ye understand, Caylith, why I ran? Me heart was sick. Nay, it was dying. But Liam came to me, in me lonely exile, a week ago. He told me how me own brother Fergus had almost ravaged me bride-to-be, lovely Brigid, and then lied about it. He told me how Fergus did almost the same again—this time to him and you, too. Fergus claimed that you, Caylith, had slept with him. I tell ye, all these years I had believed Fergus—that me Brigid had willingly lay with him—even though I knew him to be a rogue and a prankster. For I loved him, an’ sure I wanted to believe me own brother. Why would he lie about a matter that brought tears to me soul?

  “I had been a fool, pure and simple. And Liam admitted that he had been a fool, too. For it turned out that his lady Caylith did not make love to Fergus—she actually drew her knife and almost slit his throat for trying to touch her. What a lady! I wished then that me own sweet Brigid had told me the truth. But I had given her no chance. I had run away, crying like a child, and I never came back.

  “Me cousin tells me that Brigid still lives in her father’s teach, on the shore of Lough Neagh, and maybe she still waits for a fool to return. And Liam’s love? It turns out that ye had better things to do than wait around for the lout. Methinks he has some more explaining to do.”

  Michael finished his story. Both of us were silent, Michael with his eyes on the invisible shores of Éire and I thinking about unspoken love.

  “We will see the River Lagan in two days’ time, am I right, Michael?” That was the place the pilgrims and I had first sailed more than a year ago, close to the beautiful lake of Neagh.

  “Aye, Caylith. Me home waits close by there. And the longship will continue north for a day, and then to the River Foyle, your new home.”

  So Liam had tonight and tomorrow to talk with me, through Michael. I wondered whether I was ready to hear his words…and what I was prepared to tell him in return.

  * * * *

  I sat glumly watching the sun almost succumb to the arms of the sea. I missed Kevan. The first time I left him—last year when my currach sail was full of a western wind to Éire—I had thought that a year was too long to be away from him but just about enough time to set up my mission for Patrick and to begin to establish a new home.

  My mission had succeeded. I had been able to convince the good bishop to accept my treasure and my little army of Saxon mercenaries. The high king himself had awarded me and the pilgrims a vast tract of land near the settlement of Derry.

  And yet leaving Kevan this time had been a little harder for me. Would I miss him so much that I would set sail again for Deva? Or would he come to me soon, before he had secured the army post against invasions? That was another unknown that I did not wish to think about. What would he do if the barbarians invaded Deva Victrix?

  I was convinced that he would wait for me, even if he could not travel to Éire. What clawed at my heart was the suspicion that I may not wait for him. Perhaps I could live several lifetimes without knowing my own heart enough to choose only him. What was the use of plighting a troth if I could not fulfill a solemn promise? But why should I be away from this man I loved just on the mere suspicion that my eye may be caught momentarily by another?

  Thinking about it was no help to me, for I kept coming back to his thrilling embraces and his straightforward emotion. “I will come to Éire,” he had said when we parted. “I love you.”

  So why was I crying?

  “Ye had no breakfast, lass. Let me bring ye a small bit to eat.”

  Michael was standing near me, regarding me with compassionate eyes.

  “Thank you, my friend. I know not why, but I have not the strength to get my own supper.”

  “Ye have a sadness in your heart. I feel it from here.”

  I did not answer, and he left. When he returned, it was with a wedge of tarred paper holding a bit of hard tack and fresh fish. He wore a wineskin and carried three metal cups.

  He handed me the tarred paper and settled down next to me. As I ate, he filled two of the cups from his wineskin. “Do ye feel like talking, lass?”

  “Michael, I have just left the man I love. I know not when we will see each other again—if ever. If the invasions come, he may not survive. And even if he joins me, I know not whether I can promise myself to him.”

  “Because—?” Michael prompted, his eyes probing my own.

  “Because of your cursed cousin.” I sighed almost in relief. I had said it, and I breathed a bit easier for being honest with myself.

  “Caylith,” he said, “your dilemma is old as life itself. It would be odd indeed if only two hearts were playing on such a rough hurling field. Do ye really love Liam, as ye are hinting?”

  “I have not seen him for several months. When we parted, it was in confusion and misunderstanding. I think perhaps if all that could be resolved, I could make a better decision.”

  “Then it is up to me to help resolve it for ye,” he said. “That is why I am helping him tell ye his story.”

  “But he is being hateful, Michael. His statements are half lies—”

  “From your point of view.” He smiled. “And never forget, he is an O’Neill. An’ if he could not tease, he could not breathe.”

  “All right. I will agree to listen.”

  Michael did not respond except by pouring the third cup with wine. I had finished eating, and again I settled back in the near dusk, waiting for Liam. I saw his athlete’s body from a distance, even in the gathering dark. When he sat down with us, he sat next to me. And when he talked, it was to me and not his cousin.

  He continued as if there had not been a several-hour break in his monologue.

  “Aye, she liked me kiss very much, for she gave back what I was giving before she ran away. An’ the very next day, she asked if I had slept well. What a sass! I felt like spanking her on the spot. But of course I was just getting started meself.

  “I told her I would pledge meself to her, any price she asked. And she asked the price of fifty horses. Little did she know, I would have given twice that, and all me land besides, just for another kiss.”

  I was grateful for the darkness, for I knew my face was burning hot. I did not remember it that way at all. I vividly recalled that the price of fifty horses was offered as an apology, not a troth. Of course, Brother Mark may have mistranslated somewhat…

  “She told me to deliver the horses in a week’s time. And then she went away for awhile to think about me. And soon she was back, asking even more. She must have seen how ea
sy I was, for now she had increased the trade to fifty-two horses, no geldings. Of course, I was ready to give the lass the very moon and all the sea besides. But I told her it may cost a very small amount to secure the bargain—just a wee kiss.

  “Aye, she gave the kiss, but I could see she was all a-grudging it, for she responded with a stiff back and stiffer lip. But still I held the game advantage, for she thought I had been beaten. I waited until she was asleep under the great oak tree, and I gave her me best and sweetest love song.

  “Not a lass has been able to resist me love song, and this sassy wench was no different. Almost before I could finish, her sweet tongue was in me mouth, all poking and carrying on until I could not breathe—”

  “Liar!” I could not let him get away with it.

  Liam was so close to me now that, even in the dark, I saw the moonlight reflected back in his laughing eyes, and I saw the insolent smile playing around his mouth. He leaned into me, and I suddenly remembered all over again the sweet honey of his tongue and moving lips. I knew even before he started that I would answer his insistence, for we had been apart too long.

  I knew not when Michael left, but I was past caring. I knew only that Liam’s mouth had been created to join with my own, to probe and discover until we were breathless with the intensity of it.

  “A chuisle,” he murmured at last. A-koosh-la. It was as though a song had just been written for my ears alone.

  And then I left him as I had the night he sang me his love song, running into the night, not looking back.

  The ship was rolling and pitching. I could see the galley of rowers in the moonlight, straining against the wind and the relentless waves. I was trying to find a small harbor, a niche where I could curl up and sleep, but suddenly I lost my balance and fell—hard—on the slick deck.

  Then Liam’s arms were around me, lifting me up and to the safety of the curving planks of the ship’s side. He set me gently against the smooth timbers and knelt next to me, his eyes asking a thousand questions.