Ailis

The Realms

Fifthday, 3rd week of the 7th month, Godless Age 597

Sunset

Starchaser Village, Mistvale Highlands

Ailis watched her daughter storm out of the guard post. Her plans were coming together, but she hated having to deceive good people to get things done, and she loathed having to mislead her daughter. She tried her best to tell at least the literal truth to Brighid, but she knew she had twisted the truth into loops and coils that spelled out something completely different.

Ailis hadn't known the condition of Ceallach Macht, but she'd suspected. Evil could very rarely be beaten by ignoring it, and in a place as steeped in power and mystery as the lost city, there was little doubt in her mind that it had only changed tactics. She was always opposed to letting the city fester and rot, but when the troubles first started, her position on the Council was too new and fragile to force the issue. She had been carefully, slowly maneuvering ever since to guide the Council into re-examining the issue and reversing its previous judgment. It had been her own stories of the ancient wonders of the city to a young Brighid that planted the seed of her daughter's determination to cleanse it, and she had carefully nurtured and pruned the sapling which had grown from the seed over the years.

The other Council members were a hidebound lot, rarely choosing to buck tradition. She was fond enough of it herself, but some of her fellow Councillors tended to forget that tradition was not law and that the distinction was meaningful. She was no longer the junior member of the Council—Anwn had stepped into the role left by old Rhiain's death a few years ago and proven to be a thorn in Ailis's side. The girl was extremely talented in her fields and held the respect, if not the love, of all the tribe's hunters and border patrol guards. Still, she was so uncomfortable dealing with the problems of people that she let the past dictate her every action. Fionn was hardly any better. The old soldier wasn't tied quite as tightly to tradition's apron strings, but he had seen so many friends die in battle that it would take a miracle to convince him that attacking Ceallach Macht was strategically sound. Eilwen, too, was a traditionalist, and she hated anything more violent than a wooden spoon across the back of the hand. Sometimes Ailis was able to play on that to lead the old broodmare into doing the right thing, as she had with Aidan, but just like Fionn, she would never agree to send their people into the lost city on her own. As for Gerwyn, the trader was much less stuck in the past than the other Councillors, but he was still risk-averse. He could be led to water, but she could never make him drink from this particular pool. No, she couldn't approach this problem head-on. She had to manipulate events to start a fire that even Eilwen would have to admit would burn them all to ashes if left to burn on its own.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Ailis knew that manipulating her daughter in the way she had made her a monster of a parent, and it rent her heart asunder. If left unchecked, however, the corruption at the core of Ceallach Macht would eventually escape the wards and emerge much stronger than it had been when it was first contained. She had been grooming her daughter to lead the crusade for a decade now, and the arrival of the poor, lost, innocent human had been precisely the catalyst she'd needed to finally set her plans in motion. She couldn't send her daughter to investigate the city directly; it wouldn't have enough of an impact. The others would only view Brighid as a young firebrand aching for adventure, and even if convinced of the severity of the trouble, would have just voted to relocate their tribe somewhere farther away. Even Brighid herself wouldn't be as fervently against leaving Ceallach Macht to fester without some other factor in play. She needed her daughter to do it for someone else's sake rather than her own.

She also knew that sacrificing Aidan's life for her peoples' welfare made her a monster of a person. She had not expected him to be so noble as to convince Brighid to abandon him for her people, but that result was even better for her plans. Brighid had clearly grown quite friendly with the human over their short time together, which Ailis had counted on. She expected Brighid to accompany him into the city, watch him be gruesomely killed, then escape. She expected Brighid to return, battered and haunted to warn the Council, and gather warriors to her to cleanse Ceallach Macht in the name of her fallen friend. A possible rescue, however, or retrieval of the body of one so unquestionably honorable, would be much more compelling. She grieved for Aidan, but she knew in her heart that she had acted in the best interest of the tribe. She was a Druid, and all Druids knew that sometimes you have to cull one infant from a litter so that the others would live to grow strong. Besides, she recognized a mark of the Divine on the young man. He had been touched by a Power of Benevolence, and there was always a chance that he might just surprise them in the end.

Ailis stepped out of the guard post and walked quickly and with purpose towards the Council Hall. The sacrifices were made; now, it was time to give Brighid the warriors she would need for her crusade.