Even the sun had left her, yet Rua could not move herself from the spot. She stood on the cliffside, the last dying embers of the pyre throwing a sickly orange glow onto her pale skin. Smoke curled and the winds snapped it apart greedily before finding their entertainment tossing her hair and blowing the ash around the hem of her cloak. Beyond that there was no movement, no cloud to break the yawning sky. Bleak. Soundless. Consuming. It was almost more than she could bear and, their duty done, the people of Armengar had left her to it... a soft blanket from warm hands touched around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Rua. Deeply."
It took her a moment. The textures changed around her and there was warmth again. Lugh was there and not for the sake of duty. She turned around, suddenly afraid he might leave too.
"That's all of them now, Lugh. Now there's just me."
He met her eyes and in his she saw the fire. It was alive.
"You're not alone. You have my word."
She searched his face with an intense scrutiny; then, when satisfied, she nodded.
"You've seen sixteen summers now and not a child to speak of. You were frowned upon for your choices yet you waited for me anyway."
He brushed his hand softly along her cheek. It was still damp.
"And my word to you will remain good, my sweet Rua."
Somewhere from the loneliness that had encased her only moments ago, she found a smile. She took his hand casting one last look at the scorched ground where her mother's pyre had stood.
"I am no longer a child. It's time."
Rua sat on the beach, her knees tucked up under her chin. It was late in the night after Blaithin finally got to sleep. She was excited. They were returning home to Armengar the next morning and Blaithin couldn't wait to tell her twin brother of all her adventures this last month on Holy Isle. Rua was eager to return too - so many times the temptation to step into the transport circle and have Lugh hold her was so intense... but Samuel had warned her against distraction from her studies in this vital time and so she remained. Yet her mind was heavy. While the ritual magics kept her busy, the time away from Armengar gave her... new perspectives. It was as if she was finally seeing things as they really were.
She always imagined that to be the turning point of her life - that night on the cliff when mere weeks after her thirteenth birthday her mother died from the illness that had plagued her half a year. Indeed in Armengar there could be no greater transition than that from child to parent. Their lives depended on it. But all she had really done was to go from one protector to another. Instead of doing as her mother said, she did everything her husband asked. He was sixteen, of course he knew better than her. She had to smile. Except when he was telling her she could disagree with him if she wanted to. Then he was just acting crazy. It was certainly a transition - and no minor one when it involved birthing four children over the next three years - but it wasn't a turning point. Only the names around her changed. Rua didn't. She picked up a handful of sand and pebbles, squinting to see them against the dark. This much was not a new truth. She had already begun to realise it from the moment Cosaint first made her look at herself. It sat in her mind as she left for the Gathering. It made its bid for freedom when Mordred showed it the way. And the idea grew until before she knew it she was agreeing to spend the next month away from her family and her home.
Here it was. Now when she looked back, she noticed something. Like the river leaving the mountains, her path had taken a curve, a long bend around an unseen obstacle until finally it could loop back to its original course. Only now that she was back could she see where the true turning points had been.
Rua waited. She wasn't sure how much time had passed and she hadn't heard a sound in a while but she waited anyway. Surely they'd find her soon? They wouldn't have forgotten about her, would they? She curled up tighter in the hiding place she found in the cupboard and grinned to herself. Or maybe she had really beat them this time and her brothers couldn't find her. The kitchen door opened and shut. They were back.
"Diarmuid, what's wrong? You've had that scowl on your face all day."
Rua frowned. Not her brothers but her parents. Odd for them to be home from training so early. The boys hadn't been back from school that long, had they?
"Nothing, Eibhlin. I told you not to fuss."
A sigh. "It's Rua, isn't it?"
A chair scraped across the floor. "She's such a gentle little girl. Remember when she released all the spiders from Oisin's collection? Because it was cruel to keep them in that little box? I don't want to see that destroyed."
Rua felt a knot of excitement in her stomach. She knew she should have come out of her hiding place to let them know she was there, but she wanted to hear...
Eibhlin's voice was sympathetic but insistent. "She turns five tomorrow. We can't keep her out any longer. Not sending her is what would destroy her, Diarmuid. She's not a little girl any more and there's no more room for gentleness. Not if she's to have a future."
"What future? Fighting and killing year after year wondering if this time will be the last? If she lives long enough having boys chase after her so they can get their duty done with no regard for what she'll have to go through!"
There was a low chuckle. "Is that how it was?"
"Yes!" He paused. "I didn't even know what having a child would mean for me, much less you."
"She'll be strong. The school will teach her that. We'll teach her that. There is no other choice."
"I know." His voice grew hard. "The Calebii saw to that."
Her memories had been coloured. For a long time all Rua remembered of that overheard conversation was her father saying she wasn't strong enough to fight the Calebii. It went with all the other evidence of how her father was always treachery waiting to happen and she never did unconditionally adore him, not really. Only now as she prepared all the things she might say to Lugh to get Blaithin the future she deserved, did the fog lift from her memory and his words returned. She even caught herself wondering earlier if it would please him now to see that there was a choice and she was prepared to do all she could to give to his grandchildren what he had wanted so much to give to her. Her mother was right. There was absolutely no choice for her but to train as a warrior and fight for every moment of her survival. Whatever else she might have been was entirely irrelevant. Even Cosaint who thought he was choosing otherwise, learned to fight for his existence. But she wondered now if her father just didn't want to see her fight or if he perhaps saw something else for her. Could he possibly even have imagined all this? She smiled as she let the sand fall from her hand. Of course not.
There wasn't much to be happy about. The last wave of Calebii had been devastating. The stench of burnt flesh as the dead were commended back to Heramacles, clung to everything. Still. They had to wait to be sure the Calebii really were finished with them for the year. It took a long time for all the bodies to be removed from the citadel and burnt. She hated this time of year more than any other. Usually Oisin and Liam would be there to keep her company while their parents attended to their military duties, but not this year and not ever again. Her mother was stony faced. She said the school had not prepared them well enough and she would now go to teach. Her father... everyone said he would be the next Protector. He was the finest warrior, well respected, and cool headed on the battlefield. Until he saw his sons cut down. His unit did not desert him when his rage brought him clear across the field. No one dared count the losses. At least not out loud. While Lugh had become a lot more tolerant of her being around and even seemed happy about it from time to time, she didn't feel now would be one of those times. He didn't need comforting and certainly not from a child. That was what he told her when she tried to tell him how sorry she was over his father. And so alone she wandered out to the small stone building the strangers had been shown to. They had arrived maybe a week ago speaking the same words but with strange inflections. They spoke of broken circles but no one understood what they meant by that. They were not Calebii and they were not Armengar. They were entirely strange. When she peeked inside the ancient one was sleeping. He seemed to do that a lot. The other two men were looking over a large piece of coloured fabric. They called it a map and asked the Protector and the Lawkeeper to point at it during the Volksraad but neither of them knew what that was supposed to do. So she heard anyway. There was a fourth one - the strangest thing she had ever seen in her life. He had claws and teeth and hair and the older children told stories that terrified her... and still she couldn't stop herself from getting just another look at him.
"You again."
There he was, standing inches from her and looming so tall, mean and ferocious eyes beading down on her. Probably wondering how she tasted. And she had never heard him approach. With a scream, Rua ran away faster than she ever thought she could.
She didn't stop until she reached the inner gate and ran into her father. His stance was solid and it did not crumble to embrace her as she had expected. She looked up at him uncertain. Never had so angry a glare been focused on her before.
"What are you doing outside the walls?"
"It was only the inside walls-"
"I told you to stay inside! You stay where I can see you! I thought that was clear?" His hand grabbed her shoulder hard.
"I just went for a walk."
"You can walk inside. What's so fascinating out here?"
Rua never lied to her father. There was never any need for it. "I wanted to see the wolfman."
Armengar was a city without rest yet it seemed for that split second that everything stopped, everything turned silent. The moment stretched out until it snapped so loud Rua could barely hear her father roar.
"STAY AWAY FROM THEM! YOU HEAR ME?!"
It felt like her arms and legs were made of jelly and Rua could barely raise a hand to the cheek that stung with his fury at the world. It was not real. Not real.
"DO YOU HEAR ME?"
She nodded fast, seeing his hand flinch. His glare stayed with her even when everything else became blurred by tears.
And then he crumbled. His eyes closed and his own legs turned to jelly so that he fell to his knees before her. "Babog, I'm sorry." He hugged her and it surprised her how stiff her arms really could be. He pulled back. "I can't lose you, Rua. We don't know if we can trust those strangers yet. So you stay away from them, okay? No more sneaking out. Will you promise me?"
She didn't know what else to do and so she nodded again.
"That's my girl." He hugged her again and picked her up. "Let's go home."
She let her head fall on his shoulder as he carried her home. There were so many reasons to cry.
She could understand it. Rua watched the black water lapping the shore and sneaking toward her feet and knew his fears were nothing she did not feel herself when the Tribe first came. Losing Oisin and Liam had exaggerated his ferocity with her, but she forgave him that long ago. Long before the unforgiveable happened. She squeezed her eyes shut and hid her face in her hands. The wind blew about her and a bird called. When she looked back over the waves she was shaking her head.
"Why, Father? They proved themselves our friends. Were you so jealous of Chareos' military experience? Did you notice too often how I listened for tales of Mactire's magics? We were doing okay - why did you ruin it all again?!"
Head back in her hands she listened. The little fishing village behind her was quiet. The wind fell silent. Only the water continued oblivious to the answer she waited for. She knew it was an answer that would never come. She gave up the only chance she had to know it.
"Rua. Rua mo babog, come over."
She froze where she was for a second. She looked around her guiltily, afraid to be seen even hearing his voice. It came from the cell dug low into the ground where but four inches came between the earth and the stone slab over it that took ten men to hoist. The gap was left open for a number of reasons. So the prisoner would not suffocate or starve before his purpose was served, so he could see the freedom he forfeited, and so the children could kick in a shoeful of gravel as they went by. He was lucky if that was all that passed through to him.
"Please Rua. I know it's you out there. I remember making those shoes for you. You wanted red shoes so bad. I know you're angry with me and you're right to be. But I'm going to die soon, Rua. Please let me see you once more. Let me try to explain."
The other children only stopped teasing her because Lugh made an example of one of them. If they saw her talking to him... and she didn't want to talk to a traitor. Chareos was good and he saved lots of them. And Rhyan and Amos. And Mactire was teaching Caoimhe about magics and maybe one day if she worked hard for him and learned to read like he wanted, he'd teach her too. Then she'd show them all how she was loyal to Armengar. Not like him.
"Won't you come talk to your Daddy?"
She thought it over and made up her mind. Slowly Rua walked toward the pit. When she was close enough she stepped out of her red shoes and kicked them both with startling precision into the hole. They hit their target. "I don't have a Daddy anymore."
One brave wave came up and tickled her toe bringing her back. That had been a turning point right enough. She had so much to prove that it changed her utterly. While she was always well behaved and obedient, her desperation to prove herself had made her unquestioning. Every bit the sheep. So afraid to put a foot wrong in case someone would suggest she was no more than her father's daughter. Better she be Lugh's wife. Completely devoted and never straying. They couldn't question her loyalty then...
Was that really what happened? Did she try so hard to prove herself a different person to her father that she lost everything that made her anyone? Perhaps those questions were beyond even a starry night on the Holy Isle. They were the kind of things Cosaint liked to ponder. Ultimately it didn't matter. Her life had not been unhappy. Excepting Calebii attacks (and her resulting barrenness) it had been pretty wonderful actually. And it was choiceless. There were no big choices because there could be only one way of life. There were no little choices because Lugh was there to make them. It was an easy way to get along. With no choices came no responsibilities.
Rua no longer had that luxury. Everything changed, first when the Calebii left, then when Armengar went to the Gathering of 1101 and saw the whole world that existed beyond the citadel walls. Suddenly there were many many paths, huge choices no one could shirk, and responsibilites that insisted it was time to grow up. The year between that Gathering and the last had been long and so very short.
Pebbles crunched and Rua looked up at the man crossing the beach towards her. His complexion was pale and it practically shone in the moonlight. He wore a smile and she soon returned it once they were within easy earshot.
"Tide is coming in. You might not want to sit there much longer."
"Hello Tirahn. I was just thinking that."
His smile widened. "I find that hard to believe. You looked very serious there." He held his hand out to help her up.
Rua accepted and stood. She picked up her sandals and they began to walk. "I'm going home tomorrow."
"I know. Your daughter has been talking about nothing else. I'll tell you this - there's a lot of children in the class that are going to miss her. I know I will. Did you talk to her?"
Rua shook her head. "She's already told me she wants to come back but I want her to go home for a little while and be sure before I tell her it's an option. It won't be the same. I won't be here all the time if she does decide."
Tirahn gently touched her shoulder. "My sister and the kids love her. They'll take care of her as if she were their own. You don't have to worry about that."
Rua simply smiled back. "She's my firstborn. I'm not likely to stop worrying about her now."
"Understood." He laughed but it tapered into a sigh. "I thought you'd be happier."
"I am!" She turned to him. "I am. I've missed it all terribly. I can't wait to start working on attuning to the circle."
"But..."
She looked at him a moment, then sighed and resumed walking. "Nothing. Really. I've just been thinking about... things. The way things were, the way they're not anymore. I've told you before about what life was like in Armengar. It's just strange to be returning home from thousands of miles away through a magical circle to life as a civilian who can give their children choices. Do you see?"
He considered it as if adding up in his head, then nodded. "If you put it like that. So you're taking stock of life changes then?"
Rua laughed. "Since you put it like that. Yes."
Tirahn clasped his hands behind his back. He was settling in for a long chat. "So what's the big one then?"
"The big one?"
"Yes. When did you realise life would never be the same again?"
Rua frowned. The Calebii. The statue. The Gathering. Her first lessons with Simon. Blaithin and Fiach's rebellion. Her first words with Cosaint and Midir. It wasn't easy to pick just one.
There was smoke everywhere. Rua could hardly see her hand when she held it up in front of her face. Strange lights like she'd never seen before glowed through breaking the blanket of greyness into shades and tones but without making anything clearer. And yet no one around her moved. There was no panic, just awe. And perhaps a little apprehension.
She didn't really understand what was going on. One of the people of the Lions who called himself a 'ritualist' asked first for other ritualists and then said anyone who wanted to watch should go to the circle. Now she knew a little something about circles. That was how the Farseekers came to Armengar - through a transport circle that then broke sending them and trapping them on Amnor. Mactire once told her it was a very odd occurrence indeed for these things to just break. But it happened once... she wasn't so sure she'd like to still be standing where she was if this particular circle broke. What they were trying to do she could barely grasp - someone called Pape? He was to be returned to himself to answer for crimes that may not have been entirely his fault? It was something like that anyway. Fionnuala had volunteered to help and so Rua went with Aine and Fuilldubh to watch.
It caught her right in her gut when the chanting rose and the powers of light and dark, and the elements, and life itself were called down. She could hear Fionnuala calling on Heramacles and beside her Fuilldubh was petitioning Delalaria for her help even though he was outside the circle. So many people watching intently, waiting for this Pape to return. Everyone's breath caught when amidst the smoke and unnatural lights and noise he was there...
Amazing. So much power to do such incredible things. If they could have known this the Calebii would not have stood a chance. It finished and Rua stepped out of the lingering smoke. Far greater concerns inhabited the minds of the Lions present she was sure, but Rua had just one thought on hers. She was going to learn everything she could about this. By the next Gathering she would be one of these 'ritualists' and she would stand inside that circle.
Tirahn rolled his eyes jokingly. "I should have known it would be that. Deciding to be a ritualist."
Rua shook her head. "Actually that's not it. That decision was quickly made from my excitement seeing what I saw and was subject to many conditions - what made me realise things really had changed was that I made a plan for the future. The next Gathering was an entire year away - I never imagined so far ahead before, never mind planning for it."
He whistled low. "I still can't imagine that. The way you lived..."
She smiled. "It wasn't all bad. The Calebii weren't always there."
"Is it hard? Adjusting to them not being there?"
Rua stopped a beat then laughed. "Don't get me started on that. Trust me."
Tirahn laughed with her. "Alright. Maybe next time then." He looked at her sideways. "There will be a next time, won't there?"
"Of course!" They reached a low stone wall overlooking the in coming sea. Rua sat and waited for him to join her. "I've finished the most intensive part of my studies but there's still a lot to learn. I think I'll be back here a lot over the next year. And I'll have to make sure you're teaching my daughter right! Perhaps even my son."
His eyebrow arched at that. "Oh? Blaithin's twin?"
"No, not Ruairi. He's a through and through warrior like his father and there's no better place than Armengar to teach him that. I haven't fully decided yet but Carraig will turn five soon and will need to go to school somewhere. He's so bright - he can talk to anyone about anything. I don't see the training school has much to offer him. But he's that much younger - I don't know if he could handle being away from home like Blaithin."
"What will your husband think of this?"
Rua stood up and faced out to the sea. After a moment Tirahn called to her.
"Rua?"
"Sorry." She turned around. "I don't know, Tirahn. I thought he would be dead set against me coming here for so long but he wasn't. I thought for sure he wouldn't want Blaithin coming but it wasn't a problem."
There was another long moment of silence until Tirahn said, "Isn't that good?"
"I'm not sure." She folded her arms and sat back down. "I used to know what to expect from him. If there was one thing I could alway rely on it was that he would do anything to keep me close to him."
Tirahn looked at her blankly for a moment, then his lip twisted, then unable to hold it anymore, a laugh erupted over his face. Such a glare he got but still he could not stop himself.
"Tirahn! It's not funny!"
When finally it dissipated, he replied. "I'm sorry Rua. Sometimes I listen to you talk about all the battles you've been through, your life and your family, and I forget just how young you still are."
Her frown only deepened. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't you see? It's the ultimate growing pain. It's not so much fun if you're allowed do it."
She blinked in disbelief. "I'm not doing this for fun, Tirahn! I'm doing it because it's important to Armengar. I'm doing it because I'm good at it - far better than I ever was at fighting. Better than I am as apprentice lawkeeper. We need this."
Tirahn studied her a moment, momentarily lost in the passion that lit her eyes. Bringing himself back to reality, he smiled at her. "And you love it."
She smiled back. "Yes." She sat back beside him and the smile fell from her face. "Thing is I'm afraid."
It was his turn to not quite believe what he was hearing. "Of the rituals? Why ever? I admit I know very little about it but what I hear is you're learning incredibly fast."
Rua was shaking her head. "No, not the rituals." A wry grin. "I'm perhaps not as afraid of those as I should be. No I'm afraid to go home."
Even more stunned, he figured it best to just let her continue.
"All last year every time someone did something stupid or said something ill considered, I reminded myself they hadn't seen the outside world yet. After the Gathering their eyes will have opened and they'll be more reasonable. Well it's after the Gathering now. No more excuses."
"It takes time to change. You know that, otherwise you wouldn't be so scared of what you're going to find."
With a heavy hearted sigh she nodded. "I know that too well. It's not just that. The last month here has been so great - I've seen and learned so much. I've been part of something completely different. What if I can't fit back in to where I was? What if I don't want to?"
He chuckled softly. "I can't imagine you not wanting to be your children's mother again."
"That's not something I have to fit back into, Tirahn. More than anything else that's who I am. And being over here hasn't stopped me being their mother and thinking about them all the time. It's all the other stuff. Being a civilian in a city of soldiers. Watching it fall apart as no one really knows what to do with themselves now."
"It mightn't be as bad as all that."
She looked at him with long eyes. "You're going to tell me to wait and see before I start fretting over it, aren't you?"
A raised eyebrow. "I don't think I need to."
Rua smiled. "You can't just tell me it's all going to be alright?"
Tirahn rubbed his chin as if considering it deeply, then stood and faced her. "Now be of good cheer. Tomorrow you see your husband, your children, your friends, and your home again. They'll welcome you back with open arms and you'll soon see there's no cause for worry or fear. If there are problems, I suspect there are those of you intent on working them out." He smiled. "Then you can come back to continue your lessons and I'll welcome you with open arms."
Rua looked at him, then shook her head with a laugh. She jumped from the wall and hugged him. After a moment she stepped away. "Thank you. It's nice to know I have a friend here too."
Tirahn grinned right back at her before they began the return walk along the beach. "One day you might even call here home too."
Blaithin was still sound asleep when Rua returned. She kissed her head lightly and tucked the blankets back up under her chin. Never taking her eyes off her, she began to prepare herself for bed. She never could have imagined it before - not in her craziest dreams - that one day she'd be thousands of miles from a Calebii free Armengar in friendly lands learning magics not even Mactire knew anything about. It felt like a dream sometimes. It all changed so fast. She changed so fast. Somewhere along the way she learned that answering to herself was just as important - if not more so - than answering to everyone else. She learned to make her own choices and so far that had turned out better than she ever dared dream. She learned to be who she wanted to be and she was going to do everything in her power to make sure her children could do all that too. It wasn't all going to be easy. But then her father once told her freedom seldom was.