FIALL

King Fernmaige of Enna Aignech was meeting with some of his people, taking shelter in the city of Athlethan. As he walked through the city, he was joined by his sister’s friend Fiall and her entourage of Soldiers, he dismissed them. Fiall spoke excitedly of the arrival of the soldiers of Dun Emain and two men who claimed to be Tuatha’s closest friends.

Fernmaige had thought long and hard about Fiall, he admired her. She was kind and caring. He was king and needed a queen to rule with him to share the duties and the decisions that fell on a king to bear.

Fernmaige stopped Fiall and held her hands in his, turning her toward him. She looked slightly astonished and stood looking into his eyes, questioningly.

He marvelled at her composure at his sudden change of demeanour.

“Fiall” he said. “I have liked you for a long time, you are caring and close to our family. I am a king and could command you to marry me, but I instead wish to respect your wishes, so I will ask you, would you marry me and become my wife, and Caer Omaith’s sister? I would be most honoured.”

Fiall stood there for quite some time, her mind racing, still looking into his eyes, trustingly. A king was proposing to her. She did like him! Could she love him? What about her father?

She bowed to Fernmaige “My king, grant me some time to consider your generous proposal.”

“Granted” said Fernmaige. He knew she would be surprised by his sudden question. He was aware she might be unsure. But it made sense, and he would value her contribution as queen to the governing of his beloved people. They loved her too; it made perfect sense.

Fiall ran into Caer Omaith’s chamber and slammed the door behind her and leaned on it, a look of fear and elation on her face. Caer Omaith looked up from her book. “What is it?” sensing her friends’ amazement.

“Your brother just proposed to me,” she said breathlessly.

Caer Omaith whooped with excitement and leaped up clutching her friends’ hands in hers. “What did you say?” she asked nervously and with expectation.

Fiall looked down at the ground sheepishly. “I said I would consider it and have a reply soon.”

Caer Omaith’s face fell. “Don’t you like him? She said, “He is a wonderful brother and would make a fantastic husband. You will fall in love with him I am sure of it.”

“I will think about it,” she said, “but I don’t want to ponder right now. Shall we go and meet the soldiers from Dun Emain?”

Caer Omaith nodded. These soldiers had walked out of legend. No one knew anything about them, yet they had arrived speaking of Tuatha king of Emain future king of Athlethan and his beautiful wife, Laegaire the unknown princess.

They arrived at one of the taverns where some of the soldiers were staying. The noise from inside was loud and laughter and music came spilling out the door. Caer Omaith walked in and within a few seconds all noise, but the music stopped, and men stared at the vision of the princess warrior of Enna Aignech standing at the door. Many would have cringed under the gaze of so many men and women but not Caer Omaith. She paused and looked around smiling. “Drinks are on me” she said, and the tavern erupted into cheering and noise once more. As she walked in closely followed by Fiall, a path was created, and she stood at the bar alongside two men with oddly dark hair, who had not even turned around but continued to sip their drinks. This peaked Caer Omaith’s curiosity, and she coughed politely.

The man turned to look at her and with a half full mouth of Trias ale suddenly spirted it out back into the jug. He stood mouth agape and then hastily bowed before her beauty and obvious royal status. She smiled and Fiall giggled. It had gone quiet again as people watched was unfolding before them with interest. The dark features of this man held some attraction to Caer Omaith. “What is your name soldier?” she asked.

He bowed his head respectfully. “I stand before you princess, your servant and humble slave, Ardan of Esclarmonde and my brother Naoise, he stood to the side revealing his brother in a similar repose and jaw position, although he did not have a mouthful of ale and project an unfortunate stream back into his cup in front of a princess.

Caer Omaith turned to the bartender and asked for a drink of Aetherclaw juice. She was slightly excited to meet these men. But she didn’t realize that Fiall was in fact quite stricken with a bad case of infatuation. Her young heart had been attracted by this man strange demeanour, his dark and handsome looks, and his offer of stories of adventure in the north. She had been quite young when she left her parents in Muinremar and did not remember what her own country was like, so she was hungry to hear him speak.

Ardan gazed enthralled at this white-haired beauty, she reminded him of the white peaks of Esclarmonde, the beauty and grandeur they held, he saw in Fiall’s grace and demeanour. He quickly looked away when she turned toward him. “Hi” she said gaily. He turned back to her, and she smiled sipping her Aetherclaw juice and trying to appear nonchalant. There was so many shouts and cheering going on they didn’t bother talking much. He grinned back and bowed slightly. Not entirely sure who she was. She giggled and leaned over to Caer Omaith.

“Invite them to come back to the palace” Fiall whispered. “I want to talk with them and there are too many eyes and ears here.”

Caer Omaith grinned and nodded at her friend’s suggestion.

“Calm down my dear, you are positively radiant.”

Fiall cringed and screwed up her face at her friend.

“Silence your tongue,” she whispered, glancing quickly at Ardan.

Caer Omaith laughed out loud upon seeing her friend falling in love for the first time.

Caer Omaith turned to the men, who were silent in their respect. Ardan and Naoise. We invite you to join our family back at the palace. We apologise for not inviting you earlier. We would like to receive more news of Tuatha and his friends.

The two brothers nodded and followed them out of the tavern. The soldiers cheered as they left, and they all bowed to her as she passed. She nodded to them touching their hands as she passed, as they showed their respect by holding it as she passed them, as was the custom toward a lady of Athlethan.

They chatted as they walked, Naoise and Ardan feeling more at ease as these two exquisite women escorted them to the palace of Athlethan.

Ardan walked alongside Fiall for a while and they both listened to Naoise tell Caer Omaith of the exploits of Tuatha and his companions, how he had met Laegaire. But they did not reveal who she was, as the news had not yet reached the ears of Tautha’s father, King Aillel. It would be regarded as treason if this news was leaked before he had heard it.

Fiall stumbled as they walked and Ardan reached out his hand, holding her arm till she had regained her balance. Which caused her to stumble again, and he had to reach out with both hands and hold her by the waist to stop her falling further. As he did so she looked up and felt weak and helpless in his gaze.

Once she was on her own two feet again, he asked “What is your name?”

“I am Fiall, daughter of King Furbaide Furbend and Queen Celthair of Muinremar.” She said slightly shaken and slightly elated after feeling his powerful grip around her waist.

Ardan stopped, his jaw hanging once more. This was the girl who had been promised to him by King Furbaide, only if she agreed. He couldn’t believe it. How they had been bought together as if it was destiny. He decided to tell her only half the story. He wanted to get to know her first. He would tell her later.

“We have met your parents” he said, we stayed in your home city for a couple of cycles.”

Fiall’s eyes lit up. “How are they?” she inquired.

“They were well when we left, but that was months ago. They miss you dreadfully” he said.

Fiall smiled with tears in her eyes, as her mind travelled back to her parents faces as she remembered them.

“They were most gracious hosts and we fell in love with your country and its people. I should like to live there when these wars are all over.”

Fiall’s heart leaped, and according to her outgoing nature, she instinctively grabbed Ardan’s hand. He pulled it away and immediately regretting it as her face fell. But being a man of honour and willing to admit this mistake, he picked up her hand and bought it to his lips and kissed it. “My sincere apologies my princess.” He realised then that she loved her homeland too and was excited by his expression of love for the same place. All was forgiven and after that the rest of the walk to the palace he did not let go of her hand and they were both happy. Their body language telling the other all they needed to know. Fiall skipping slightly as she walked, Ardan walking taller than usual.

When they arrived at the palace, they went to where Caer Omaith’s brother, king Fernmaige was in discussions with some councillors, and they all walked in. Fiall still holding Ardan’s hand, not letting go.

When she realised, she had forgotten about Fernmaige and his proposal she quickly let go of Ardan’s hand, but it was too late. Fernmaige saw it and his heart fell but he did not show it.

He looked at Ardan and Naoise as they bowed before him as one does to a king.

“Rise” he said fiercely, “state your business here and who you are.”

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Caer Omaith giggled loudly at her brothers attempt at producing fear in these two warriors. He glanced at her with an annoyed expression.

“Oh Fernmaige” she said, “Fiall has made it obvious to you” Move on and welcome these princes of Esclarmonde. They are Ardan and Naoise, warrior princes of Esclarmonde. They are our allies.

Fernmaige, given a chance to redeem himself from looking foolish and jealous, smiled at the two brothers.

“Welcome,” he said “we look forward to hearing more about your journeys with Tuatha, son of King Aillel. “Come, he should meet you without waiting any longer, he aches to hear of his son.”

He glanced at Fiall as he spoke, and her eyes fell beneath his questioning gaze.

When Caer Omaith left with Naoise and Ardan, Fiall stayed with Fernmaige.

“My offer was heartfelt, my lady,” he said. “Yes, my king, she replied, but my heart was not mutual with yours.”

“This I understand,” he replied. It is done, I wish you happiness with Ardan of Esclarmonde, he seems like an honourable warrior.”

Fiall was shaking after her formal rejection of a proposal as per the custom of Athlethan. She was glad she had remembered the words she had learned many cycles ago, taught to her by Caer Omaith as they discussed who they might marry, as young princesses do.

After King Aillel’s mind was put to rest about Tuatha and that he was married. Ardan retired to a room that was offered to him as a prince although they had been more than happy with the small room in the tavern, they were staying in. But Ardan was even happier that he had met Fiall, and she had fulfilled everything he had imagined about her.

She sat with him on the couch, and they talked long into the night.

“There is one more thing I must be honest with you about,” he finally revealed to Fiall.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Your father chose me to marry you if you will have me.”

She paused and looked at him, her eyes wide, her facial expression changed several times as she took in his words. The shock wore off and turned into anger. Fiall looked at Ardan’s worried face.

“It makes me so angry that my parents do this. I told them not to choose anyone for me, that I would find my own way. Does it mean you are only with me because my father asked you to?” Fiall got up and stormed off, leaving a bewildered Ardan, cursing himself for opening his mouth. He lay back and thought for a moment. He had seen her and not even thought about what her father had asked. His intentions were merely based on his own attraction to her. He had not done anything wrong, he had been honest with her, not hiding her father’s words to him. She just needed time to think and maybe to talk to him.

Ardan waited for an hour, his heart ached to see her again. He resisted the urge to find her. It didn’t take long for Fiall to appear.

Fiall peered around the corner to see if Ardan was still there. He was and a lump appeared in her throat. He looked thoroughly miserable.

She casually walked up to him, her face aflame with embarrassment.

When Ardan saw her, his eyes brightened, and he smiled. She picked up his hand.

“I have always felt my father is stuck in old traditions,” she said, “and although I am angry with him right now, I am afraid I am going to have to make him happy and at least be your girl. Even if it means he gets all gloaty and I told you sosey. He will be quite proud of himself, and it will annoy me,” She tittered nervously as she spoke.

Ardan got off the couch and kneeled in front of her, his face relieved and his eyes not leaving hers.

“I forgot what your father said till the moment I told you,” He said, “I found you to be divine before I knew who you were.”

That was all Fiall needed she leaned down and kissed him.

“Don’t get too excited,” she interposed. Her finger on her lip. “We don’t know each other yet and I am not inclined to rush into these things, if that’s what you are thinking about.”

Ardan put on a dejected face but nodded enthusiastically and kissed her hand that he held once more. She laughed and leaned down her lips pouted, “not my hand silly.”

Ardan got to his feet and complied.

CAER OMAITH

Seeing her friend happy and in love, made Caer Omaith, not jealous, but sad. She now had no-one to share her fears and excitement with as Fiall seemed completely infatuated with Ardan, and she spent all her time with him. Naoise was friendly but he seemed reserved around her and did not expand friendly conversation. He seemed but mildly interested in his brother’s newfound love.

She walked through the palace looking for someone to talk to. She walked through the halls till she got to the base of one of the towers. There was a spiral staircase which circled around the side of the round towers wall.

Feeling curious she began upwards, as she went something was pulling her upwards. When she arrived panting at the top, there was a door, slightly ajar.

“Hello?” she called questioningly.

“Welcome.” Said a deep resonant voice. “Please make your way in.”

Cathabad had been meditating on the latest vision, sent to him from the Riangbra prophecies. It was a strange one about a princess warrior with wheaten hair who would one day rule Enna Aignech, that she would meet a warrior of low rank. As he meditated, he heard a rushing wind come up the stairs, and then the noise of gentle footsteps, hesitantly walking.

When she appeared, because he knew the footsteps to be those of a woman, he was genuinely surprised. It was a girl with wheaten hair tall and regal in posture. She smiled at him, and he was instantly impressed.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I am Caer Omaith, daughter of King Magach” she relied.

Cathabad started and stood up. He took her hand and kissed it. “Princess” he said, “what bring you to Cathabad, keeper of the Chronicle prophetica?”

“I am a little lonely,” she said sadly, “Fiall has found a new friend who looks a little too exciting for her to want to be with me much longer!”

Cathabad wanted to tell her not to worry, that the vision had revealed to him that she would find someone soon, but he was forbidden. But he was allowed to give a little of his own encouragement.

“Don’t worry, he said, “Something always turns up.”

They spoke for a long time. She seemed overly excited to hear about Tuatha and stories of his childhood. He had heard about Tuatha’s marriage, he knew from prophecy that it was Amerghin’s daughter, and he feared for him, not knowing what she was like, only hoping she was more like her mother and less like her father. But very few had been told as it would lead to speculation that Tuatha was sympathetic toward Amerghin before he could make a case himself before the people of Athlethan.

He could see the longing in Caer Omaith to meet Tuatha. She knew the prophecy that Tuatha would marry a princess, she hoped it to be her.

“Do not put your hope in one person,” said Cathabad wisely. “Meet other men and warriors, make friends, and do not wait. Destiny is written and cannot be changed.” He added cryptically.

Caer Omaith was a warrior, but her mind was relaxed and she desired company and love. She left Cathabad her mind whirring with possibilities. The last thing that Cathabad said kept coming back and she tried to push it away, but it didn’t, and it was a good thing. As she wandered aimlessly, her emotions going up and down with her thoughts, laughing, then slowing to a walk when her thoughts grew deeper. During one of her more excited thoughts, she bounded on light feet, rounded a corner, and hammered straight into the hard armour of a tall warrior. She bounced off the armour hard and fell, dazed. But strong hands caught her by the waist before her head hit the ground. She could feel herself being carried even through the shock of the hard hit to her forehead and felt as the strong arms of her unknown saviour lowered her gently onto a couch.

When the pain had subsided and she opened her eyes to see where she was, the first thing her eyes focussed on was the concerned features of a soldier wearing the formal leather armour of a Rochad horseman. His eyes were piercing and seemed to look deep into her soul, and she shivered.

She smiled and tried to sit up. Firm hands from the healer sitting close to her prevented her and her head throbbed.

The man came closer, “Please do not try to stand yet, my princess” he said, looking into her eyes then averting his gaze away suddenly.

“You can look at me sir,” she said, laughing slightly. “You are a captain are you not?” referring to his status on his armour and therefore his right to talk to the princess of Muirthemne without protocol.

“I am” he replied, “I am Captain Rus Cuscraid, son of Nial Cuscraid of the Rochad….”

“Horsemen, yes I know” said Caer Omaith. “You are general Findtain’s nephew. We went to school together in Enna Aignech, although you never talked to me,” she said looking at him questioningly as if expecting a reason for it right there and then.

He smiled, “I guess as a young boy, a princess in your class was a bit overwhelming. I did fall in love with you back then,” he said unashamedly. “You had all the boys falling over themselves to gain your attentions.”

“I remember.” She giggled “you were all so funny, lucky you all gave up or I might have had to leave.”

She sat up and Rus leaned forward looking concerned.

“I feel okay now,” she said. “I’ll go slow for a while.”

They spoke for a long time, after all the concerned people had visited. They reminisced on their childhood and talked of the war and battle strategies.

“I should like to see you again tomorrow” said Caer Omaith. It was arranged and Caer Omaith had a friend. She fell asleep feeling a lot happier and Tuatha was forgotten.

The next morning when Fiall arrived, she was excited to tell her of her meeting with Rus.

“The whole palace knows about your forceful introduction to the most eligible bachelor in the southern kingdoms,” Fiall teased.

“Oh, I’m not interested in him for that” smirked Caer Omaith. “We are just friends.” Fiall looked at her from the corner of her eye and pulled her head back with a knowing look. “I’m not…” Caer Omaith yelled, jumping up and pushing her friend back on the couch, wrestling her, and holding her down.

They laughed together and prepared for the day. Caer Omaith’s heart pounded at the thought of seeing Rus again, but she dismissed it as the excitement of having a friend, not realising her true feelings.

A few days later she was finding solace in the gardens of the palace. She could see a few groups of people enjoying the warmth of the sun. Couples could be seen walking hand in hand and her mind wandered back to the man she had met. A group of soldiers was walking toward her and as she got closer one of them waved and left the group, walking toward her. It was Captain Rus.

“My lady” he said and bowed. He rose and took her hand, kissing it gently. She could feel his rough callouses and the prickliness of his stubble on his face. She blushed and giggled slightly.

He looked at her surprised.

“What’s funny?” he enquired.

“Nothing,” she said, “I like it, that’s all, walk with me, if you have time.”

“I do” he said and waved off his friends.

Captain Rus, nephew of General Findtain of the Rochad horsemen had spent all his life preparing to protect his city from attack. He had never thought about girls or love. His love was his horse and his weapons. He liked spending time with his friends he had grown up with, who also shared his passions of what he did.

But from the moment Caer Omaith had collided with him in the hallway, horses and weapons were second only in thought. He could not get rid of the vision of her in his arms, her softness and vulnerability for a moment, then her strength and fearlessness of him. This was strange to him because his size and fierce expression as he practiced for battle meant that any woman, he did meet were afraid of him. His friends who were women were sparring partners and drinking partners and that was all. When he saw her in the sunshine walking toward him, a vision of beauty that no one else could see, he had never felt as weak and shaky as he did now. If a battle was to erupt at that moment, he would be overwhelmed and destroyed. Such are the first throes of infatuation.

After his initial confusion about the reason why she had giggled at him, he felt embarrassed then an overwhelming feeling of affection and excitement for this girl.

For a time, they walked in silence. No awkwardness or discomfort. They both felt peace and comfort in each other’s company.

After a few moments of walking, Rus couldn’t bear it any longer. The desire to tell her how he felt became overwhelming. He felt calm on the outside but there was turmoil inside which could only be calmed by a confession to her, either by word or action.

He stopped suddenly under the shade of a tree and gently grabbed her hand, stopping her from taking another step. She turned to him, surprised. He pulled her toward him, and she fell against him looking up into his eyes. The surprise went away to be replaced by pleasure and a small smile. They closed their eyes at the last moment as if to look at each other as long as possible and then they kissed.

Caer Omaith felt Rus holding her gently yet firmly against the tree as he kissed her, she felt contented and happy.

RUAD AND MORANN

Back in Enna Aignech, Morann cried out in pain as she laboured to give birth. Ruad had paced for hours, fuming, and then crying, delirious with excitement and then worry, for his wife and their child. But it was Morann who had suffered the most. She was alone with Dagemar who comforted her and helped her through the contractions of birth. Finally, the baby was born without a cry, after checking her was breathing normally, Dagemar and placed the newborn against Morann’s breasts.

“It’s a boy”, she whispered. Morann’s wrapped her arms around the baby. “He is to be called Dare,” she said.

Ruad raced in upon hearing the news, he stopped and stared. Nothing had ever looked so beautiful to Ruad as seeing his wife holding their son. “Dare,” he said breathlessly, then poetically he added, “The hope of my family and my heir.” Morann looked up at Ruad, enjoying seeing the soft side of Ruad. Hope welled up in her chest as she saw the possibility of a future of peace with Ruad and their family.

This time of love and friendship across all the different groups functioned as respite from the bitterness of war, it was a relief for many, and they dreamed of the time when this would continue long after the war was over. But there were many who feared that the dark Lord was determined and would win the power he craved and there would never be security and peace when a tyrant rules. The pursuit of happiness was not any closer for those who bring war and hatred upon others. There was only one group that were truly happy despite their hardships and struggles against those who wanted them dead for the sake of power and gain.

And so, time moved on, the three cycles of respite were ending. The black smoke tinged with Triune gas was seen in the distance over Mount Sennol. Earthquakes were frequently felt as far north as Muinremar. Scouts reported movements of troops and camps halfway between Enna Aignech and Rochad. Messengers were sent out to Muinremar, Esclarmonde and Dun Emain.