Cathal was first off the boat, and heading over to Evan and Muirrin before I so much as moved. There was a brief interchange, then Cathal was off up the track at a run, with Muirrin following at a more sedate pace.
Felix offered me his hand as I jumped over to the jetty. Ciaran was there to catch me. We looked at each other. My mentor put his hands on my shoulders and bent to bestow a fatherly kiss on my brow.
"You"re safe," he said.
Felix was beside me now.
"Ciaran," I said, "this is Felix. He is a scholar from Armorica. Felix, this is my kinsman and teacher Ciaran, of whom I"ve told you." Even the semblance of calm deserted me; my voice shook.
All along the sh.o.r.e, women were embracing their men, men were hoisting their children onto their shoulders, mothers were greeting sons, and warriors who had stayed at home were slapping the adventurers on the back and talking about jugs of ale and the exchange of stories. The Connacht men were mingling with the rest. The place was awash with relief and delight, save for here, where the three of us stood in our own little world. Ciaran and Felix exchanged a look. What was yet unspoken filled the air with tension.
"Sibeal, you have a new niece." Evan came up, smiling broadly. "And a new nephew."
My jaw dropped. "Twins?"
"They were born on the sixth night after you sailed. Clodagh"s well. I"m not sure I can say the same for Cathal; he looked deeply shocked. You"ll want to come and see them straightaway. I"ll take you."
Twins. No wonder my sister had grown so large. "Are they healthy?"
"They"re healthy indeed. And it won"t surprise you to learn that Clodagh"s the most capable of mothers. There was a certain point in the process when she cursed Cathal for his absence, but all"s well now. And their hut is finished. She wanted to be in her own place. Shall I carry that bag for you?"
"I"ll take it." Felix relieved me of the bag, then melted away into the crowd.
"Who is he?" Ciaran was walking beside me as we followed Evan up the steep path to the settlement.
This was not the obvious question it seemed.
"You"ll have heard the story," I said. "Unless you only just arrived."
"I have been here a few days. It"s earlier than we arranged. I hope that does not inconvenience you, Sibeal. If you wish, I will be happy to remain on Inis Eala until the end of summer. I need to talk to Cathal, and to Johnny."
"Once you"ve done that we may as well go," I said, failing utterly to match his equable tone. Why delay the pain of parting? Whether it happened tomorrow or the next day or at summer"s bitter end, it would hurt no less.
He gave me a sideways look. "Is something troubling you, Sibeal?"
"No."
"We"ll talk soon," Ciaran said quietly. "First you must see your sister." He glanced at me and added, "Clodagh will want to look on smiling faces."
"Here we are," Evan said as we came up to the hut Spider had built for Clodagh and Cathal. It was finished, and Clodagh had already started planting a garden in the walled area behind the house. I could see freshly dug earth and a row of green seedlings. Nearby, linen cloths flapped on a line. Ciaran had left us, disappearing with as much alacrity as Felix.
I took a few deep, measured breaths. I summoned a smile. Evan knocked, then opened the door at Clodagh"s call, "Come in!"
My sister was seated on the edge of a shelf bed, feeding one of the babes. It was suckling busily and pounding its mother"s creamy flesh with a small clenched fist. Cathal stood before the hearth with the other babe in his arms. Father and child regarded each other with dark and shining eyes, taking long, slow measure. And although I had thought myself drained of tears, fresh ones welled in my eyes. The infants were as perfect as rosebuds.
"Clodagh!" I bent to wrap my arms around my sister and the babe she held. "They"re beautiful!" I had expected to love them instantly. I had not antic.i.p.ated this aching longing for my own child. "Are you well?"
"Very well, Sibeal, though I do feel somewhat like a milch cow. I"ve never had so many people bringing me food, and offering to do my washing and my mending, and making me rest during the day. Biddy says I should accept any help I"m offered. I do welcome the food. I always seem to be starving."
"What are the babies" names?" I asked.
"Our daughter will be Firinne, for Cathal"s mother," Clodagh said. "We haven"t chosen our son"s name yet. We"re hoping you"ll conduct a naming ritual for us while you"re here."
I was looking around the little house, seeing how brimful it was with Clodagh"s loving presence. No wonder Cathal looked so different, his features transformed with happiness, the anxiety that had tightened his features in those last days of the voyage quite gone. It was not only the miracle of the son he held in his arms and the daughter at her mother"s breast; it was Clodagh"s presence that changed him. The bond between them was strong enough to survive anything. Modest hut this might be, but it was as much a home as the keep of Sevenwaters had been to generations of children. My mind was full of the vision I"d had, Felix and I in our own little house, with its warm lamplight and its windows opening on trees. That was the right home for the child in the owl-embroidered gown, the little girl whose eyes were just like mine. Let it be real, something within me whispered, something treacherous that, like Felix, could not keep silent. Oh, please let it be real. I sat in silence, watching Clodagh and her daughter. I fought the tide that was rising within me.
"You seem different, Sibeal," Clodagh observed as she moved the babe expertly to her shoulder and began patting its back. "This voyage-Cathal has given me the bare bones of it, and it seems you"ve been exceptionally brave and done some amazing things. Ciaran"s already here-did you know?"
"Sibeal?" It was the first time Cathal had spoken since I came in. I saw something on his face that I had never seen there before: a beaming, spontaneous smile. "Would you like to hold him?"
I was used to infants, having helped with my brother since the day he was born. I took the baby boy and cradled him in my arms. Under his blanket he was clad in a little gown of Clodagh"s making, embroidered with berries and leaves. Around his neck was a cord fashioned of fine-spun wool, and threaded on it was a talisman in the shape of a half-moon, made from the same glimmering sh.e.l.l-like substance as the one Felix had been given on the serpent isle.
"What they gave me was a single talisman, pierced with two holes," Cathal said. "When I brought it out to show Clodagh, it had split neatly down the center. If the gray ones are to be believed, our children now walk under the protection of the G.o.ds."
I did not reply. As I felt the warm weight of the child against me, as his solemn gaze met mine, something snapped inside me. A sob burst out; tears poured from my eyes. I sank down onto a bench, hugging the baby against my breast and rocking back and forth. "I can"t do it anymore!" I wept. "It"s too hard, everything"s wrong, I can"t even pray properly, and Felix is going away, and I"ll never have it, I"ll never have what you have, there never will be that cottage in the woods and Felix writing by lamplight and that little girl with her wise eyes, because if I choose that I"ll spend my whole life knowing I gave up my vocation and turned my back on the G.o.ds and disappointed Ciaran and did something utterly selfish! But I love Felix! What he said was right, it was completely right, he and I should be together, we"re like wind and rain, like leaf and flower, like-how can I let him go away and never see him again? I know I should be calm about it, I"m a druid, if I haven"t learned acceptance by now I haven"t learned anything in the nemetons, but I can"t be calm, nothing works anymore, everything"s wrong . . . "
I was dimly aware of an interchange between Clodagh and Cathal, after which he went out, closing the door of the hut behind him. My sister rose and put the baby girl into a basket. A few moments later, Clodagh sat down beside me. Her arms came around me and her son, and she held on, not saying a thing. She waited until the words and the sobs and the tears came to a hiccuping end, then took the infant from me-he had remained remarkably calm throughout-and moved back to the bed to feed him.
"There"s a clean kerchief on the shelf there, Sibeal. Wipe your eyes and blow your nose. Then put the kettle on the fire, please, and brew us a drink. Feeding the twins makes me thirsty. Then we"ll talk some more."
Kettle. Fire. Water. Cups. A dried leaf mixture in a corked jar. Someone came to knock at the door, and Clodagh called out, "We"re busy! Come back later."
While the water heated I went to look at the girl child in her basket. She was sleeping, long-lashed eyes closed, tiny face wreathed in mysterious dreams. She had more hair than her brother did, a downy crop with a distinctly reddish tinge to it. My own daughter had been dark . . . More tears welled. I couldn"t hold them back. What was wrong with me? I couldn"t even face the thought of walking out the door. I couldn"t face anything. "I hope I didn"t upset him," I mumbled. "The baby, I mean."
"Children are more robust than they look. And it clearly hasn"t affected his appet.i.te." After a moment Clodagh added, "You should give yourself a little time. I know it feels bad right now, but you"ve only just got off the boat and you"re tired . . . "
"There, there, Sibeal, everything will be all right in the morning? It"s not all right, Clodagh. It never can be. Whatever I do, whichever choice I make, I"ll spend the rest of my life regretting what I gave up. I wish Felix had never come here! I wish I"d never met him!"
She looked at me, her green eyes full of compa.s.sion and understanding. I looked back at her. "I don"t mean that," I said, sniffing. "I love him. I could never be sorry to have met him. I could never be sorry I was part of his great mission. But this is breaking my heart."
"You said, whichever choice I make. Does that mean you would seriously consider giving up your vocation for Felix?"
"How can I? How can I turn my back on the G.o.ds? How can I deny the call I"ve heard since I was a small child?"
"Folk occasionally do, I believe. What about Ciaran himself? He was a novice druid at the time he met Aunt Niamh. And he left, even though they were forbidden to wed."
"This is not the same. Besides, he came back to the nemetons."
"Only years later, after Niamh had died, and after Fainne had grown up and gone away to serve the G.o.ds on the Needle."
"It doesn"t matter how long it was. He managed to put it behind him. Ciaran is strong in faith. I thought I was strong; I never had any doubt until this summer. But I know that if I give Felix up I"ll regret it every single day of my life, Clodagh. No matter how wise I become as a druid; no matter how well I study and pray and meditate. This has shaken my belief. Denying what is between us feels wrong; it feels like denying the turning of the seasons or the growth of a tree or the pattern of waves on the sh.o.r.e. And the love of those things is what makes a good druid. I just don"t understand."
"Congratulations," Clodagh said.
"What do you mean?"
"You"ve grown up, Sibeal."
"Grown up? I"ve just burst into tears and babbled complete nonsense! I"ve completely lost sight of that calm, self-contained person I thought I was! I haven"t grown up-I"ve become a child again!"
"You"re in love. It"s a condition well-known for making folk leap from happy to sad to mixed-up and perplexed at the least excuse. As for growing up, we all love calm, wise, reserved Sibeal; she"s the person I know and value as a dear sister. You"ve just found out, to your surprise, that she"s only half of you. The other half is a woman: a woman who laughs and cries and loves, a woman who makes mistakes and has to work hard to fix them. A woman who doubts herself; a woman who sometimes can"t find answers without help."
I busied myself pouring hot water over the dried leaves, stirring, straining the brew into the cups, placing one where she could reach it easily.
"I have a challenge for you, Sibeal."
I gazed at her, unable to imagine any challenge at which I would not fail miserably at this moment.
"From now until you finish drinking that tea," Clodagh said, "set aside the druid part of yourself, the part that wrestles with philosophical arguments and worries about loyalty to the G.o.ds. Be the woman, the one who"s just found out that love can fill you with joy one moment and sink you in sorrow the next. I"m your sister, and we"re given sisters so we have someone we can talk to at such times. Tell me about Felix. Forget about what might happen, or what you think should happen. Tell me why you love him."
So I did, and I was still telling her long after our tea was finished. I brewed us each a second cup, and Clodagh found some honey cake that had been set away, and I discovered I was ravenously hungry. Some time later, the knock on the door came again, and I opened it to see Biddy standing there with an apologetic smile on her face.
"Sorry to disturb you. I thought you"d be ready for a bath by now, Sibeal. The men are all out of the bathhouse, and I have fresh hot water waiting, and Flidais says she"ll wash your hair for you." She could hardly fail to see that I had been crying; it felt as if my whole face was red and puffy. But she made no comment.
"And after that," Clodagh said firmly, "Sibeal must eat and sleep. A piece of honey cake doesn"t go far. Biddy, will you tell Cathal he can come back now? I a.s.sume he"s had his bath."
Biddy grinned. "Scrubbed clean as a whistle, and sitting in the hall telling anyone who"ll listen that his children are the most perfect ever born. Sibeal, what a tale Gull had to tell me! Svala some kind of sea monster! And Knut . . . " She shook her head. "I"m still trying to take it all in."
I said nothing, but gave Clodagh a kiss and followed Biddy out. As I turned to shut the door, my sister said, "Ciaran is the other part of this, Sibeal. Tomorrow you must talk to him."
*Felix*
Stepping off Liadan onto dry land, I felt strong. The mission was done, and I could report to my brother that I had kept my word. I had been brave.
After we made landfall, Sibeal went away to Clodagh"s hut, and I did not see her again. Sigurd took me to the bathhouse, and the two of us emerged freshly clad and smelling fit for company. In the dining hall, we ate seethed fish and baked vegetables. It was a feast fit for the G.o.ds. Gull helped me move my things out of the infirmary to make room for Thorgrim, and Sigurd found me a bed in the men"s quarters. I lay down when the sun was setting, and if I dreamed, on waking I remember nothing of it. There is only one thing in my mind. Today holds a new challenge. I must speak to Ciaran.
I find him out of doors, seated on rocks, gazing toward the reef where Freyja foundered; the place where the Ankou rose from the sea and took my brother away. Sibeal"s mentor is a person of striking appearance, his skin pale, his hair a deep red, his eyes the shade of ripe berries. His features are handsome, but there is a reserve in him that makes him seem aloof. Like Cathal, this man bears a touch of the uncanny. Looking at him, I think of a well deeper than sorrow, of moon shadow, of realms beyond the ken of humankind. I am almost afraid to disturb him, but I walk up, greeting him courteously.
"Master Ciaran. I would speak with you."
He rises. His movements are fluid. Sibeal said he was her father"s uncle, but he cannot be so old, surely. He looks forty at most. "Felix." The tone is neither warm nor cool. "Shall we walk?"
I have it all planned out, how I will put my proposal to him, how I will keep calm, for such a man will be unimpressed if I let my feelings get the better of me. He is a person of erudition and subtlety. I am a scholar. In this fight, that may be my best weapon. "I wish to speak with you about the future," I begin as we head along the path. It would be easier to do this seated opposite one another, so I could see his face. But he wants to walk, so we walk.
"Ah."
It seems he is not going to help me.
"Sibeal and I have become very close over the summer." A calm voice; a relaxed demeanor. All it takes is slow breathing and concentration. I try to remember that. "I have been deeply impressed by what she has done, and what she has taught me of the druidic path. I was raised in the Christian faith, but my belief was shattered by the wrongs I saw enacted in the name of the Church. I left home because of that; because I could not remain silent."
"Mm-hm." He walks on steadily.
"This summer, during our strange adventure, I have begun to see a glimmer of light in the spiritual darkness I felt after leaving my home sh.o.r.e. Sibeal"s unswerving faith in her G.o.ds has opened my mind to something real and true. I have observed the deep magic of earth, sky and sea, and I have seen the remarkable abilities of a druid to reach others, to make peace, to find solutions to impossible problems. Master Ciaran, I have been a scholar since I was a boy of twelve. I love ideas. I love reading and writing. I love debate and discovery. There is a hunger in me for more. I cannot return home; my outspokenness earned the wrath of the n.o.bleman in whose household my father is employed, and if I went back I might put my family in danger. I will not remain at the court of Munster, where my brother and I were employed, for that would be full of cruel memories. I was hoping . . . "
I pause as we reach a stile. Ciaran waits for me to cross first. He says nothing at all as I clamber up and over. I stand there as he follows me, all graceful economy of movement.
"I was hoping there might be a place for me among your novices at Sevenwaters." There, I"ve said it. Now I dare not look at his face. I take heart from the fact that he has not broken into derisive laughter. "I am prepared to work hard. To learn. You will have heard the story of our mission by now. I hope that shows you I am a man of principle. I have not been raised in your faith, but I believe there is a lifetime of learning in it, and I love and respect learning. I have some skills that could be useful: languages, scribing ability."
"And singing, I hear," Ciaran says. He could be thinking anything at all, so little does his tone give away.
"I can sing, yes. I can make poems." I wonder who has told him this.
"Let us sit down here awhile." Ciaran seats himself on a convenient rock; I find another. I look into his eyes and am none the wiser.
"Felix," he says, "Sibeal is the most outstanding novice to enter the Sevenwaters nemetons in living memory. She has certain very special gifts, gifts we believe may be unique to her. You"ll have seen some of them at work during your mission. Her gifts make her precious to our kind, not just in the nemetons at Sevenwaters, but everywhere in Erin. But they also make her vulnerable."
The silence draws out as I try to guess what it is he wants from me. "I understand," I say eventually.
"Do you? I think not. After less than a full summer"s acquaintance you believe you know Sibeal. Yes, you have seen a little of her ability; you have caught a glimpse of her fine qualities. But your understanding is a drop in the ocean; a blade of gra.s.s in a meadow. Sibeal is my kinswoman, my protege, my student. She is closer to me than a daughter. I have taught and guided her since she was twelve years old. She will make a druid of exceptional power and goodness. Within the nemetons she can develop her talents to their full capacity. And she can be protected."
"Protected? From what?" I am unable to keep my voice calm now; my outrage trembles in it. I draw breath deeply, once, twice, three times, as she might.
"From herself, perhaps."
In my head, I count to ten. "Sibeal is like n.o.body I have ever met before," I say. "Rare, precious and wonderful. The brightest star in the sky; the fairest flower in the field; the subtlest and most beguiling of tales. The loveliest note of the harp. I do know her. Her vocation may be as strong as iron, but she"s deeply unhappy. If you are so close to her, why can"t you see that?"
"Answer me one question, Felix."
I wait.
"You request a place in the nemetons at Sevenwaters. Are you telling me you have a spiritual vocation?"
Breathe, Felix. Be calm. "That depends on how you define a vocation, Master Ciaran. I have not been visited by Otherworld presences, as Sibeal was in her childhood. I have not heard the voices of G.o.ds or spirits whispering in my ear. It is as I described it before-the sense that a light reached me in a place I thought would be forever dark. The merest candle in a catacomb of doubt, but a light nonetheless. I saw it in Sibeal"s gift with the runes, in her ability to reach Svala, the sea woman, in the wisdom of her tales and the kindness of her advice. I saw it in Gull"s friendship, a friendship that came with no conditions. I saw it in my brother"s raw courage. Now I see it every day in the power of the waves, the flight of the sea birds, the wild dance of clouds across the sky. I hear it in the cry of a newborn babe. I see it in the tranquil face of an old man, waiting for death." My grandfather"s parchment skin; his soft, beguiling voice, telling me tales. His eyes closing for the last time, with as little fuss as if he were taking an afternoon nap. When the Ankou came for him, he came gently.
Ciaran regards me for a while. He seems to be giving my words serious consideration. I allow a fragile hope into my heart.
"You"ll have business to attend to, I imagine," he says. "I"ve heard a good deal of your story from Johnny and Gareth. The king of Munster will need your report, at the very least. You will not quit such employment without some negotiation."
I wait for the next part: But after that, if you haven"t changed your mind, you can come to Sevenwaters for a trial.
"Come back to me in ten years" time," Ciaran says. "In those ten years, go off and live your life. Your parents have lost one son. You will only punish them if you allow your principles to keep you from home. Would you leave it to a stranger to tell your mother that her firstborn is dead? Make peace with your family. Ply your trade as scribe, translator, poet, lover of ideas. If your mind is unchanged in ten years, come to Sevenwaters and speak with me again."
He might as well have hit me. I am breathless with fury, and a bitter sorrow fills my heart. I quell the urge to shout at him. "Ten years," I say, and despite my best effort, my voice is shaking. "That is a long time."
"You are young. Sibeal is even younger. The two of you, together, in the austere, celibate setting of the Sevenwaters nemetons . . . I think not."
"I-"
"Felix. You are transparent. Your feelings for her are written on every part of you. I saw it the moment the two of you stepped off the boat. Your plan is nothing but a rod for your back, and perhaps for hers as well. Go home to Armorica. Before ten years have pa.s.sed you will have found a wife, fathered a child or two and made your parents happy."
I spring to my feet, too angry now to guard my words. I meet the druid"s impa.s.sive gaze full on. I square my shoulders. "You diminish what I feel, and what she feels, when you speak thus," I tell him. "What is between us is as deep as the earth, as wide as the sky, as boundless as the great ocean. To deny it is to deny the turning of the seasons, the ebb and flow of the tide, the journeys of sun and moon. I have always respected Sibeal"s vocation. I have not tried to divert her from it against her will; all I have done is confront her with the need to be honest in her choices. I know how unhappy she is. She grieves for the parting to come. What I suggested to you is not what my heart most desires. I make no secret of that. I want her to choose me as her husband and the father of her child. I know the little girl she has seen in visions is our daughter, hers and mine."