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The circle flickered for just a second and settled around the three figures appearing inside it. A few words exchanged and Midir and Caillte were heading toward the inner gate - no doubt bound for the hospital or the Wishing Tree. Rua remained inside her circle, drinking in the energy from it as if she'd been long starved of it. It had only been a few days but lately any time away from it at all was an eternity to her. When finally satisfied no one had harmed her precious circle in her absence, she stepped out and stopped to talk to Donnacha and Donagh. Two well beaten paths led away from where she stood. One to the inner gate and her home, the other to her office and her obsession. She bade farewell to the two guards and made her choice.
With a long sigh Lugh turned his attention back to what lay outside the walls he was currently patrolling. There wasn't much to look at on the deserted plateau but he peered across it with such intensity he might have seen the breath of the men at the passes. He didn't notice he had company until a firm hand gripped his shoulder.
"Would have thought you'd be rushing down to make sure our high ritualist really is in one piece. Give her a thorough examination." The tanned dark haired man, only a year or two younger than Lugh, nudged him with a knowing wink and a grin. Lugh tensed at the touch but relaxed again quick enough. His eyes said he wasn't picking up on the humour at all.
"I have my duty here. And I wouldn't want to interrupt her from her work."
"I'm sure she wouldn't mind." A small uncertain laugh.
Lugh turned to look at him, his expression grim. "No? Donnacha must have told her I asked to be rotated off the Circle to the walls. She never even looked up, Daragh." He turned back to his watch.
Daragh stood beside him, hands clasped behind his back, searching for words to say to his friend. All he could find was the truth. "She is spending a lot more time with that Circle since it came back, isn't she?"
There was a bite to Lugh's tone as he answered. "It's all that matters to her. She'll deny it but it's true. Must be so convenient for her having the children out of the way."
Daragh took a step back in his astonishment at the vitriol. "You can't mean that. It's Rua. She'd mother half of Armengar given half the chance!"
The bitterness was gone but was replaced by a weariness as Lugh looked back at him. "Yes, she would have. But that's not my Rua down there anymore. That's 'Rua Ní Dhiarmuid'. Whoever she is."
Daragh was shaking his head, being very careful of the words he chose. "A lot of people have changed. Since the Lions came."
It surprised Lugh a little. He knew he was just venting - he wanted her to come running looking for him like she used to and it bothered him that there were all these things so much more important - and he knew that they were - it just would have been nice if she had looked up just once at the wall. To their part of the wall. But Daragh wasn't wrong.
"I'm so sick of hearing how great these Lions are. So they've done a lot to help, I'm not denying, but-"
"But life was much simpler before they came."
There was an odd look on Daragh's face. Lugh nodded. "Yes. It wasn't at all perfect - we faced death every day. But Rua and I, we faced it all together. There were no secrets then, no letters from strange men that are black one day, white the next. No sneaky little rituals no one can see in the dead of night. She thinks I don't know where she was the night of the banquet last year. She doesn't lie to me, but only because she doesn't tell me anything at all."
"I heard something happened to her after the ritual at Spring parliament. Someone called Mordred?"
"Exactly my point!" Lugh threw his hands to the air in exasperation. "And you know as much about it as I do! That thing took control of her and I know it scared the wits from her but if she's talking about it, it's certainly not to me. I'd ask Cosaint if I thought I could get a straight answer from him - he's even worse than she is!"
Daragh looked like he had to will himself not to back away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset."
Lugh sighed deeply and looked back over the silent plateau. "No. I'm probably overreacting. I just worry about her. How long can she go on like this before I lose her completely?"
*****
Rua and the others had been home only two days but Lugh was feeling every minute of it. It was the dark of night and his shift was over - but the more people there were on lookout the better for Armengar. With idiots like Alvar and Ajax around, the ceasefire could end at any moment. He hated when she was away from him. It was the not knowing what was happening to her he supposed. He counted every second and could not rest until he saw her safe before him again. Except this time it was different. She stood before him and he never felt she was further away.
"Double shift again, Lugh?"
He turned around to see Daragh standing there, hands behind his back. Damn but the man could sure sneak around. He would have made a fine scout if he could shoot straight.
"Can't be too watchful." He nodded over beyond the passes to where the legions were holed up. It was too far away but there were times Lugh could swear he caught the eye of one of them watching them back.
"Certainly not." Daragh sat himself down, drew his sword and pulled out an oiled rag. "You wouldn't be avoiding going home by any chance."
Lugh glared at him but Daragh was thoroughly engrossed in polishing his sword. "Of course not. Why would I?"
"Well... you're used to a full house. It must be very quiet without the children."
"Oh. Right." Lugh folded his arms. "They've been gone almost half a year already. Half a year and except for Ruairí, I've seen them only once."
Daragh looked up at him with some surprise. "You're married to our high ritualist and you've only seen your children once since the circle came back? I thought you'd be visiting at every opportunity you could."
Lugh shrugged. "We're going tomorrow for the twins' birthday." A cross look came over him. "She actually wanted to bring them on a trip around some of the other islands. Can you believe it? No knowing what danger you're walking into and she wants to bring the children. It's bad enough that she goes."
Daragh nodded sagely. "When someone spends a lot of time in a dangerous situation they forget the danger. I suppose it's a way to survive."
"Staying the hell out of it is a better way!"
Daragh gave a slight smile. "I've heard her say the same thing about fighting. Back before Joshrim showed us the folly of losing our edge."
Lugh's eyes widened as he nodded his agreement. "If there's one good thing about all this," a hand swept out towards the barricades, "it's that it has put an end to all this nonsense of us not needing to be fighters anymore."
Daragh let go of a small shrug and turned his attention back to his blade. "You shouldn't blame Rua. She's a mother that doesn't want to see her children die on a battlefield."
"Better that than they die without a chance to defend themselves!" His hands gripped on the battlement edges, knuckles whitening.
"What I'm saying is she'll listen to anyone who suggests it can be otherwise."
The look in Lugh's eyes was steely cold as he fixed his stare on his friend. "Don't."
"Sorry?" Daragh looked up at him, not quite sure what he had said wrong.
"She's not as weak willed as everyone thinks. The only difference now is she finally knows it. She makes her own choices. She's made that abundantly clear."
An eyebrow arched. Daragh put the sword and cloth away and stood up. "Are they her choices, though? Look at the influences around her - you get someone like Cosaint who is quick enough with a fancy word he can make people believe he's telling them what they want to hear. Tells them it's their choice but really he knows just what to say and to who to get them under his influence."
"It has nothing to do with him! She hardly talks to him anymore anyway." The words were out before Lugh could catch them. He knew it was ridiculous. He'd spoken with Cosaint himself a few times and he was quite sure it wasn't anything like that. But he also couldn't deny that Cosaint brought something out in his wife. The pacifist was probably entirely unaware of it himself, but it wasn't just the magics that had changed Rua. Daragh's face had an odd look. It was apologetic but... there was something else there. Or perhaps the long shifts were catching up to him in the form of paranoia.
"I didn't mean to offend. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about from him. It was merely an example of how someone as naïve and trusting as your Rua could be all too easily manipulated. You have to admit the company she's been keeping lately is a little odd. What do you know about this Tarkis person she lets use her circle? And I've heard about Samuel - he's one of those beastkin things like our esteemed High Mage who almost got her killed last year."
"What?" Lugh shook his head, not sure he was hearing right.
"At Winter parliament. You didn't know? He left the battle to go chasing a Red Cap and brought her with him. Maybe he forgot she's not a fighter anymore or maybe he just didn't care. I don't know but they both had to be pulled out of there."
A knot of anger bubbled in Lugh's gut. So that's what had happened. He'd seen the slashes in her cloak, the bruises on her body, the way her eyes could never meet his whenever he tried to ask her about it. Damn her anyway. Why did she always do this? She had to know he wouldn't be angry at her for it. "I'm going to kill him."
Daragh fixed him with a steady gaze. "I think sometimes it's a pity her father didn't finish the job."
Now that was an odd thing to say. What Diarmuid tried to do was wrong and there was never any debate about that. Mactire was an unusual creature with questionable methods but he'd proven time and time again that Armengar was his home too with all that entailed.
"I'm sure Mactire meant no harm to her. He pushed her hard sometimes - but only because he saw her potential for magic. He'd never deliberately try hurt her."
Daragh paused a moment, nodding, taking it in. Then he looked at Lugh and spoke in a whisper. "Are you so sure?" When Lugh's eyebrows rose in surprise he continued. "I daresay you're right about Mactire but what about those you do not know? Consider this. Samuel asks a young inexperienced ritualist who knows no better to be his second and mysteriously cannot make it to the moot on Jackal's land and leaves her in charge? They keep slaves there, you know. Haven't you heard of the cataclysms that are coming? The Pure who would kill a ritualist on sight, those who would happily disrupt her rituals just because she is a Lion? And of course there's Felix still lurking around, playing his little tricks on the Lions now."
Lugh could feel the blood drain from his face. Suddenly he wasn't so sure. What did he know of Samuel bar that she planned to spend as much of the next few weeks with him as she could? "She'll be surrounded by her friends."
Daragh sighed. "You're right of course. All those Lions around, they won't let anything happen to her. She's one of the few ritualists left that will still go into the circle. They need her too much."
A shiver went down Lugh's spine. He pulled his cloak around him.
*****
The weeks went by so fast. Lugh sat alone at the breakfast table attempting to take some measure of them, trying to work out where it was all going wrong. Was it the Heartland Games and the way they avoided talking about her going? Or was it when she returned claiming them to be uneventful because she just didn't have the time to walk with him anymore? Perhaps it went back to Spring Parliament and the first fight they ever had - and never spoke about again. Perhaps much further back than that.
The twins birthday had been disastrous. It had started so well. Rua was excited to see them again and holding her hand as they passed through the transport circle had been heart stopping. For a while it was like it always was when she held him and told him not to worry. It was like all their problems were simply imagined and with a love as strong as theirs, how could anything come between them? They would spend the day as a family, and for that day nothing else would matter. Then he would take her home and they would spend the night as husband and wife and it would be as though all those many many nights they spent alone had only existed in a bad dream. How could such a simple plan have turned so awry?
It started with Ruairí. With the ceasefire on he wanted to come home and Lugh didn't see any reason for him not to. But Rua wouldn't hear a word of it. She was like a child, covering her ears - she wouldn't even listen! And Ruairí was so like Diarmuid when he dug his heels in. Even Lugh noticed it so Rua must have by now. It was a stupid thing to say - that she was taking out her anger at her father on their son. Stupider even to say it in front of the children. Ruairí never let go of it. Bláithín tried to calm her brother down only to be turned on. The things he said to her... if Rua hadn't been closer and done it first, he would have hit the boy for being so cruel. It would have been better that way. It only fuelled Ruairí's rage at his mother and it left her haunted several days after. And Bláithín - he had been surprised and very proud to see how she had blossomed on Holy Isle. She took care of all the other children, never let anyone feel too homesick or lonely, kept the peace when they got a little too rough with the Holy Isle children. Amáraiga and Carraig looked to her during the whole dreadful episode so it was no wonder that when she started crying they could take no more either.
Eventually he calmed Ruairí down and got him to stay with the others a little while longer. It hadn't been easy and if Rua ever found out how he did it... She consoled the others as only a mother could. She told them not to worry about a thing and they, like he, were compelled to believe her. When they got home that night he tried to apologise to her. She turned away. Sat writing in her book all night. The next day she left for Sammerix and he hadn't seen her since. So it was something of a surprise when the front door opened and she walked in.
Lugh immediately stood, his heart pounding as it always did when she returned - only the reasons had become different now, hadn't they?
"Rua - I wasn't expecting you home-"
"I said I'd be back." She took off her cloak and hung it up. "I have work here too. Rituals to practice."
He sank back down into the chair. He really shouldn't have been surprised. "Is that all?"
Rua frowned and he could see the storm clouds gather, but she look at him and something inside her broke. She came to the table and sat, looking no less deflated. "It's not. There's so many things to fight out there, Lugh. Why do we have to fight in here too? I hate it."
"So do I." He reached across the table and she gave him her hand. He squeezed it, wishing he would never have to let go. "We can't go on like this."
"What do we do?"
"Talk to me, Rua. I never know what's going on with you anymore. Tell me about your rituals - and I know that look on your face. You think it's better for me not to know. Well I worry anyway, Rua, so you might as well tell me."
Her eyes met his and peered right through them. "I'm not angry at my father anymore. He made one mistake because he was still hurting over my brothers. But he was a good father and he was a good man. And if I'm protective of the children it's because if anything happened to them and I lost control like my father did, my mistakes could be a lot more dangerous."
Lugh sat back stunned.
"I've been in that despair before and felt I had no power. But now... and what if Mordred found me like that? There's no knowing what could happen."
Her face was so serious like he'd never seen before and she was genuinely afraid of the things she said. He got up and knelt before her, peering back into her. "Then stop it. If this power you have is scaring you so much, then get rid of it."
She blinked twice in surprise, then looked away. "I can't just do that Lugh."
He took hold of her chin and turned her face back to him. "Why not?"
"Because this isn't something I can just get rid of!"
"You were quite happy without it two years ago. You 'just got rid' of most of your fighting skills when you stopped training. So stop it."
"It's not that simple."
"I think it is."
Rua pushed her chair back and stood up. "You don't understand." She went to the stove and began to heat some weak broth.
Lugh sighed, exasperated again. "How can I understand when you don't talk to me? Why is it you can never tell me what's troubling you?"
"I just did!" She closed her eyes . "Please Lugh, I don't want to fight."
"Why not?"
She turned around looking very puzzled by his question. "What?"
"You never did tell me. Why is it you won't fight anymore? Your sword has not moved from that corner in over a year. Why is that, Rua?"
Keeping her eyes on the sword where he pointed, she answered quietly. "The mace is a better weapon for me now."
"Why?"
"It's easier to use."
"You never needed easy weapons before."
"Things have changed."
"But you won't change them again? Even though it scares you. Even though you just admitted how dangerous to us all you could be?"
And there it was. That hurt in her eyes. "Armengar needs more than warriors."
He sat back at the table with a deep rooted sigh. "But why does it have to be you?"
They continued talking around in circles for another hour before Rua left to practice her ritual. They agreed that neither of them wanted to fight anymore, but the uneasy hug she gave him before she left spoke volumes of all the things they weren't talking about because of the fight they might start. And what did that leave them with? She told him about her ritual and he had to admit, it had its merits. That she was confidant it would be straightforward and Mordred-free was most certainly one of them. When he climbed the wall to start his watch, Daragh was already there watching Rua's practice beside the circle.
"Hi Lugh."
"Everything okay?"
"Nothing moving out there at all." He nodded down into the practice circle. "Shouldn't she be doing something about Joshrim instead of playing with cups and hammers?"
Lugh watched her laugh with the others as they ran through a pretend combat. It looked ridiculous but he found the slightest tug of a smile pulling at his lip. "She needs to do something simple and uncomplicated first I think. And that's absolutely fine by me."
Daragh chewed on his lip. "I would have thought when she wanted a warrior to represent Corthar she'd ask you."
"I won't be going to the Moot." It was a curt answer. Too much so. Daragh raised an eyebrow at him but Lugh just shook his head. It had been another near fight when Rua asked him to go with her and see for himself all the things she now fought for. He found himself wondering if he had agreed, would she have asked him to be her warrior? He couldn't hear the words from so high up but somehow the sincerity of his tone carried as Cosaint held the hammer out to her like a prized possession. She spoke her words too and a look passed between them.
"Still, it's an odd choice." Daragh continued. "Setanta was never fooled by him and his type and Cosaint knew it. Makes you wonder why he'd agree."
"Rua seemed to think he'd do it for Corthar."
"Looks like she was right."
Lugh didn't answer. His thoughts had suddenly turned elsewhere. "You seem to know a lot about what goes on around here - and with the Lions."
"I do my best to keep informed", Daragh preened.
"I want to know everything that happened at the games and everything that happens at the moot. Everything."
Daragh smiled. "I'll do my best."
Index