Medb was waiting in the druid’s glade outside the settlement of Monaghan for Eogan, the settlement’s chieftain. Eogan had agreed to meet her because she promised that he would benefit. Monaghan was a greedy man and would not let the possibility of gain pass him by. He was a known abuser of women, though, so she had warriors hidden close by in case he tried any of the shenanigans for which he had made a name. The queen would never again become the victim of men with no scruples.
She was in Monaghan because Mac Nessa was proving untouchable. He seemed to have an impenetrable wall around him. Conall, who was trained by Dornoll. Fergus, who was trained by Dornoll. And now the new one, Cú Chulainn who was trained by Scathach, Conall, and Fergus.
Coming to Eogan was a desperate measure, but Medb felt she was quickly approaching the end of her chosen road. Nothing had worked. She had failed to get at the fat king at every attempt. That string of failures convinced her that she had to try a more subtle approach. Medb needed to start to chip at the wall around him. Those who represented the wall were the best fighters in the Five Kingdoms, so she could not go at them with warriors. They might even be too good for an assassin’s knife. Strength of arms would surely fail, so, guile had to be her hammer and Eogan her chisel.
Medb remained on her horse with her skirts pulled up so that her legs could sit either side of the mare’s flanks. The sky was clear and the moon bright, so her legs appeared almost translucent, shining in the moonlight.
She had been waiting only a short while when a troop of horsemen rode into the clearing. Eogan was at their head sitting astride the most beautiful horse Medb had ever seen.
“You like her?” Eogan asked. “She is an Arabian. I have a cousin in Gaul who bought her from a Roman.”
“I thought the Gauls were at war with the Romans?”
“Yes, they were. That is why my cousin went there. But no more. When they strangled Vercingetorix, in their big stone city, it was over. The Gaulish tribes have been vassals of Rome ever since. The men in their metal suits now control all the tribes except those of Alba and the Five Kingdoms.”
Medb sat for a few moments, trying to come to terms with the information from Eogan. She was wondering if it was worthwhile to continue fighting when it seemed inevitable that they would all end up as vassals of the Roman conqueror. Gaul was crushed, and Alba had already seen two invasions and would succumb in time. How long then, before Ériu was invaded?
“What do you want, Medb?” Eogan asked with a frown. “I have a busy night ahead and no time for dallying in the forest, regardless of how pretty your legs are.”
The reference to her legs caused Medb to shudder and she quickly adjusted her skirts to cover them. “As my messenger said, Eogan, I have information which you might find of benefit.”
“Yes, yes, what information, Medb?”
“I know where Naoise and Deirdre are.”
“Who in the mounds of the Gods are Naoise and Deirdre,” Eogan scoffed.
“Suffice it to say that Mac Nessa would dearly love to know where they are.”
“Would he, now? So, why are you telling me instead of telling him?”
“I thought everyone in the Five Kingdoms knew that myself and Ulster have not seen eye to eye for many years.”
“Why then are you giving him the information?”
“I am not giving him the information, Eogan. I am giving it to you. What you choose to do with it is your affair.”
“Semantics, woman. What are your reasons?”
“My reasons are my own, but what do you care anyway? You will benefit if you give your king the information.”
“So you say, so you say. I am not sure I trust your judgment in this, though. Mac Nessa is fickle and easily offended. If he is not as pleased with the news as you think he will be, I will suffer.”
“I see your point, Eogan. I am sorry to have troubled you,” saying which, Medb turned her mount to ride out of the glade.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“Back to Crúachain.”
“You did not give me the information.”
“You said you did not want it,” Medb pouted coquettishly. She was manipulating Eogan, but he was too brutish to notice.
“I did not. You are twisting my words. Where are they?”
“Where are who?”
“These fugitives, Naoise and Deirdre.”
“They are on the Isle of Shadows.”
***
“Eogan of Monaghan is here to see you, sire,” a guard said from the door to the feast hall.
“What does he want?”
“He did not say, sire, just that it would be beneficial to Ulster.”
The king waved his consent and Eogan walked to the dais with a stormy face. He hated to be kept waiting at another’s whim, king or no. He also hated being a piece in the games of those who considered themselves his betters. He had better things to do with his time than run around the Five Kingdoms at the whim of others.
“What do you want, Monaghan?” Kathvar asked as the chieftain arrived at the dais.
“I am here to talk to the king, not his lackey,” Eogan spat.
“How dare you talk—”
“Enough, Kathvar,” the king interrupted. “I will hear what he has to say.”
“Thank you, sire. It has come to my attention that you would pay heavily for information on the whereabouts of Naoise and Deirdre.”
“That is perhaps an exaggeration. Who told you I would pay heavily for the information?”
Eogan held his chin in contemplation. He knew if he told Mac Nessa where he came by the information, it would not be believed. However, he also knew that if he did not answer the king, then the interview would go no further. He was still not sure whether the information he had would provide the benefits that Medb had said.
He decided on a compromise, “It was something I overheard in a hostel, sire.”
“And you also heard of the location, no doubt?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Where is it then, man?”
“What is it worth, sire?”
“Do not try my patience, Eogan. If I think the information is worthy, you can expect compensation. If I do not find it worthy, you might find yourself as a plaything for my hounds.”
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“My information, sire,” Eogan said with a look not unlike a thundercloud, “is that they are on the Isle of Shadows, under the protection of Scathach.”
Eogan did not appreciate being threatened, even by the king of Ulster. He understood his predicament though. He was in the feast hall of a man who was protected by the best warriors the Five Kingdoms had to offer, including Fergus who was not five paces from him. Eogan was a big man, strong and brutish, but he did not have the training of Ulster’s champions. He did not doubt what the outcome would be were he to provoke the wrath of their king.
“Thank you, Eogan. Remain in Emain Macha and I will discuss your information with my advisors before deciding on your compensation.”
Eogan nodded and left the feast hall, happy to be walking from Mac Nessa’s presence.
***
“Sire,” Fergus said from where he was standing guard at the side of the dais.
“Fergus, I did not see you there. What can I do for you?”
“Naoise and I grew up together, sire. I know he wronged you, and I know you would be in your rights to punish him, but do you not think the people would respect you more if you showed clemency?”
“Is it normal, Fergus, for guards to listen to the politics of their betters?” the king asked, ignoring the plea.
“No, sire.”
“You would do well to remember that.”
“Yes, sire.”
“However, I have heard you, and I will take your plea under advisement. The court is adjourned for the day. Kathvar, come with me to my roundhouse.”
***
When Kathvar entered the roundhouse Mac Nessa was sitting with his feet up with a cup of imported wine and a flagon to hand. He had a look of glee on a face that was suffused with color, as though he had been drinking heavily.
“Well?” he asked.
“You cannot do anything while they are under the protection of the Shadowy One. She takes her charges very seriously.”
“How will she know it was me, were I to exact my revenge?”
“Who else would it be, sire? She is not as gullible as most warriors. She would know it to be you, and she would not tolerate it.”
“What could she do?”
“A knife in the dark would not be beyond the bounds of possibility, sire.”
“What then, do you propose, druid?”
“You could forget it, sire,” Kathvar said, knowing that it was not in the king’s character to allow slights to go unpunished, imagined or otherwise.
“Is that what I pay you for, Kathvar, to advise me to allow my subjects to trample all over my authority?”
“You do not pay me, sire. I act as your advisor at the behest of the Elder Council.”
“But you eat my meat and drink my mead, so advise me accordingly.”
“It was many years ago, sire. They have been driven from their home and are skulking on an Island that is so wet it is forever shrouded in mist. Do you not consider that punishment?”
“No, Kathvar, I do not consider that punishment. There must be some way that I can get my revenge and not upset the witch.”
“I can think of nothing, sire, but I will sleep on it.”
“That is all I ask.”
***
Conall found Fergus sitting at a bench at the back of the common room nursing a flagon of mead and a sorry look.
“What is wrong, my friend?” he asked, while pouring himself a cup of mead.
“Eogan of Monaghan has given Mac Nessa the location of Naoise and Deirdre.”
“And why does that upset you?”
“I grew up with Naoise. We were very close. I do not want to think of him being murdered because of a silly mistake.”
“He disobeyed his king. There are consequences to that sort of mistake, Fergus.”
“I know, Conall, but it does not make it any easier. Anyway, the king has said he will consider my request, so maybe it will be all right.”
“What request?”
“I asked the king to consider clemency.”
“Fergus, are you mad? You are not supposed to be listening to the business of the court when you are guarding the king, never mind interceding.”
“I know, I know. I could not help myself.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he would consider my request.”
“And I suppose you believe him?”
“He could have just thrown me out of the feast hall or punished me for failing in my duty. He did not have to say he would consider my request.”
“Have you not learned anything, Fergus? Mac Nessa does not do anything without first considering his options. You will probably find yourself on the receiving end of punishment as soon as he has considered his possibilities and discussed them with that idiotic druid.”
“You can call Kathvar many things, Conall, but idiotic is not one of them.”
“Is your memory so short that you do not remember the part he had to play in the death of Eterscel?”
“We do not know, not really, what part either Mac Nessa or his druid had to play in the death of Eterscel. We have only guesswork and supposition.”
“Do not tell me, Fergus, that you are starting to believe the lies of The Deceiver. You have always been unflinching in your support. To think you are weakening now would be too much to bear.”
“If my wanting to help a friend is too much for you to bear, Conall, then perhaps you should share a flagon with someone else.”
“That is the first sensible thing you have said, Fergus,” Conall said as he stood, swiped the bottle, and stormed from the common room.
***
The following day the king commanded the presence of Fergus in the feast hall. Fergus was nervous as he approached the dais. He did not know what to expect, punishment or clemency? Mac Nessa was not known for his punishments being lenient. He seemed to have only one. Death.
Fergus looked sidelong at Conall, who was on guard. His captain refused to look him in the eye, which hurt. He knew Conall could bear a grudge, but he had hoped the heated discussion of the previous night would already have been forgotten. Conall continued to stare straight ahead, dashing his hopes.
“You sent for me, sire,” he said as he reached the dais.
“Ah, Fergus,” the king said, looking down at him as though he were a naughty child in need of chastisement. “I have been giving a good deal of thought to what you said to me after yesterday’s court session.”
“Yes, sire.”
“Kathvar and I discussed it deep into the night. The point that Kathvar makes and that I admit, I somewhat agree with, is that a lot of time has passed since Naoise disobeyed me.”
“It is a long time, sire.”
“After much argument, I have decided to honor your request and pardon Naoise and Deirdre, but only if they apologize for their actions.”
Fergus was suspicious. It seemed that Mac Nessa had given in too easily. It was not like him to accept an apology as a payment for wrongdoing. It did not ring true for the warrior. However, the king’s next words allayed his suspicions.
“I stand here now, in front of the gathered chieftains and make this proclamation, Naoise and Deirdre are free to return to Emain Macha. I will hold no grudge and will bring them no harm. If I lie, let the Tuatha Dé Danann strike me where I stand.”
Fergus looked over his shoulder. He was surprised to see that during his petition, the feast hall had filled with the chieftains of Ulster. He had not expected so many of the kingdom’s ruling class to be present. It was as though the king had ordered them here to hear his proclamation. Fergus held back a surge of elation. To make such a public proclamation was as binding as it could be. To stand on the dais and make such a statement knowing it to be a lie, would not be conscionable to the collective minds of Ulster’s rulers. Conall had been wrong. Mac Nessa was not as unforgiving as his captain believed. He wanted to celebrate but dare not for fear of offending a man who was both his captain and his friend.
“Do you have nothing to say, Fergus?”
“Thank you, sire. I really do not know what to say.”
“Someone needs to go to Skye to tell Naoise and Deirdre they can return home.”
“Of course, sire.”
“I want you to go, Fergus,” the king said. Fergus nodded and looked over his shoulder at Conall.
“It is only right, lord, as Naoise is my friend.”
“That is exactly as I surmised. It is good that we are talking the same language, Fergus.”
“Yes, sire.”
“You will leave for Lúr Cinn Trá immediately and sail on the first available tide.”
“I will, sire.”
Conall turned and strode from the feast hall in obvious disgust. Fergus did not want to offend his oldest ally, but he could not think of any other way. He had to try and help Naoise and Deirdre.
“With your leave, sire,” Fergus said before running out of the feast hall after Conall. In his haste to catch his friend, Fergus missed the look of mischief on the face of the king. Had he seen it, he might have thought twice about sailing for Skye on the first available tide.