It grew colder. The moon edged higher. Owls cried; creatures rustled in the bushes.
“There is no point in this,” said Muirne.
“We will wait until they are ready.” Anluan sounded quietly confident. It seemed he had conquered his earlier doubts. “All night, if need be.”
Muirne said no more. In the hush that followed, I could hear Eichri whistling between his teeth.
A little cough from Rioghan. Muirne tensed beside me.
“Here we go,” muttered Magnus.
Cathaír had been told to specify the number: no more than ten representatives from the host, exclusive of those who lived within the house. They manifested one by one beneath the trees, then moved up to take their places around the circle. Gearróg would not come; he had remained on guard outside my chamber, content to let Cathaír speak for him. But there were other warriors here: a tall man with a pike; an old, bearded one bearing a bow and quiver; a man with one leg, hobbling on a crutch, with a fearsome array of knives at his belt. His battered leather helm and breastplate and the great slashing scar across his face marked him as a combat veteran.With Cathaír, that made four; with the monk, five.
“Welcome,” Anluan said quietly. None of them spoke, but they acknowledged the greeting with a nod, a jerk of the head, a fist raised in soldierly respect.
A woman came next, her garb a hooded robe, her gray hair in long plaits. On her brow was tattooed a crescent moon.A wise woman, I guessed, perhaps a priestess of an older faith. She hesitated just beyond the circle of torches. Behind her was a younger woman with glittering ornaments around her neck and her hair artfully dressed, the kind of woman to whom men’s eyes must go instantly, though this one looked somehow faded, as if the brightness that had been hers in life had slowly leached away over the long years on the Tor, leaving a pale copy of her former self. A third stood by them, a personage of middle years clad in the practical homespun garments of a hardworking village wife. None seemed prepared to step into the circle.
“They are afraid, lady.” It was Cathaír who spoke.
Anluan turned to me. “Caitrin, will you bid them welcome?” As if I were the lady of the house. As if I were his wife.
I did not look at Muirne, but her voice was in my mind: You are not one of the women of Whistling Tor. “Come forward into the circle, please,” I called, smiling at the three. “Lord Anluan welcomes you all.”
They moved forward in silence to stand together, a little apart from the warriors.That made eight.
For a while, nothing stirred save the flames of the torches, turned to fiery war banners by the night breeze.
“Are there more?” asked Rioghan eventually, looking at Cathaír.
As if in answer another figure came forth from the trees, one who dwarfed even Magnus. His arms were muscular, his chest formidable. His skin was marked by many scars, not combat injuries, I judged, but burns. He was the kind of man whose features are handsome only to his mother. His physical presence, however, would be sure to prevent anyone from telling him this.
“Donn the smith, my lord.”The giant gave the very slightest of bows, and Anluan returned the courtesy gravely.“Representing the working men of the Tor.”
“I welcome you, Donn.We may have need of your expertise.”
“Likely you will, my lord.” The smith moved into position alongside Eichri and the other monk, and now there were nine.
“Our number is complete, my lord,” said Cathaír.
Rioghan frowned at him. “Only nine?”
As one, the representatives of the host turned their eyes towards a particular place in the circle, a place that seemed deliberately left vacant, the warriors to one side of it, the women, the smith and the clerics to the other.
“We are ten, my lord,” said the gray-haired woman. “We leave this place for one whom we love and respect; one who, like us, died with unease in his heart.We cannot see or hear him, but we sense his presence. He is not of the host. He watches over the Tor.”
My skin prickled. I heard Muirne hiss softly beside me, as if this frightened her where none of the rest of it had the power to do so. Magnus muttered something under his breath.
“Very well.” Anluan allowed his gaze to move around the circle, taking in everyone present.“All are welcome here, the seen and the unseen. Each is part of our community of Whistling Tor. You know why I have summoned you. A peril confronts us. I need your help.”
He set the situation out once more. As I listened I watched his audience, and very soon it became apparent to me that the host had not limited its representation to ten after all.Ten stood within the circle of lights, nine of them visible, one mysteriously not so, but in the moonlight beyond that circle were gathered many more. Anluan was surrounded by troubled souls.
He did not spend long on my theory about the host, and that was wise—this was not the time to remind these folk of the ill deeds in their past. He told them that he planned to visit the settlement at full moon. He outlined what he would say to Lord Stephen’s emissaries. He asked the spectral folk for an undertaking that they would stay within the boundaries of the hill while he was gone, obey the commands of those he left in charge, do no harm until he returned. Each of them would be given a job, a responsibility to carry out during that time, which would not be long, less than a full morning. As for what happened after that, it depended on Lord Stephen’s response. But very likely Anluan would have to ask more of them: a great deal more. His question was, could he trust them? He glanced at me.
“Caitrin has spoken to you before; you know her,” he said. “Indeed, without her influence it is unlikely we would ever have attempted this. She believes you trustworthy. She assures me that you can do what I ask of you. Caitrin, will you add your voice to mine?” He turned, holding out a hand towards me. I stepped down to stand beside him, facing the host, my heart thumping with a confusion of feelings.
“I greet you all with respect and in friendship,” I said, aware of the eyes watching me from out there under the trees, so many eyes.“I am not trying to belittle your difficulties when I tell you that I know how it feels to be afraid; to be so afraid that you cannot force yourself to move so much as your little finger. I think sometimes that happens here. And I think sometimes folk do things they don’t want to do, because on their own they are not strong enough to stand against . . . whatever it is that compels them to evil deeds. But we’re not on our own anymore. We’re all here together, we’re all Lord Anluan’s people, the people of the Tor, and there’s enough strength in us to do the right things and make the right choices. Tonight, all Lord Anluan asks of you is an undertaking to stay on the hill while he visits the settlement on the eve of full moon, and to do no harm while he is beyond the boundary. That doesn’t seem very much to ask, but of course it is—if you achieve it, you’ll have done something it seems the host has never done before. You’ll have taken control of your own destiny. You’ll have taken the first step towards solving all the difficulties that beset Whistling Tor and its chieftain. I know you can do it. That’s all I have to say.” I stepped back, and a clamour of voices broke out all around the circle.
A sharp rapping—Rioghan had got the opportunity to try out his rod. “One at a time!” he ordered, and the hubbub died down. “Step forth in turn and speak. All will be heard.” After a moment he added, “Keep it brief.”
Cathaír took two paces forward, his head high. He laid his arm across his chest, clenched fist against his shoulder. “I will stand strong, my lord,” he said, and his jaw was set firm, though the red of the torches flickered oddly in his eyes. “My fellow warriors stand with me. We are twice fifty in number, some with full weaponry, some partly armed. Although some bear old injuries that may hamper their fighting skills, all can make a contribution.”
“Good, Cathaír,”Anluan said.“I commend you for your industry. Have your men questions for me?”
Rioghan appeared ready to interrupt, but Anluan murmured,“Let him speak, Rioghan,” and the councill
or fell silent.
“The same question is on everyone’s lips, my lord,” said Cathaír. “It concerns payment for services rendered.You know what we want, all of us. We know the lady’s looking for it, looking as hard as anyone can. But she might not find it. She said she’s leaving at the end of summer. It might take longer to find. It might not be here at all. I told them to set that aside, my lord. I told them we should do what needs doing and forget about what we might get out of it. I said it was worth doing just because you believe in us. But those ones out there, they want an answer.They’ve been waiting a long time for all this to end.”
I saw Anluan draw in a long breath, then let it slowly out. He spoke quietly. “I will not give you a false promise. I do not know if we will find the means to release you from your long time of imprisonment on the Tor. We will continue to try our best.”
The wise woman stepped forward, her long hair gleaming silver in the torchlight. “What if your best falls short of what is required, my lord?” she asked.
“Then I will have shown myself unworthy to be your chieftain. I do not know exactly what is required yet, only that I will put all that I am into defending Whistling Tor and my people, and into doing what is right.”
“Defending’s only part of it,” said the one-legged warrior.“You’ll want an attacking strategy for good measure. You’ll want barriers, traps, diversions. We need to think ahead.”
“You’re straying from the point,” said the tall man with the pike. “There’s three steps in this: challenge, fight, reward. What we’re talking about here is reward.We do the job, we get sent back where we came from. Simple. If his lordship here can’t send us back, we don’t do the job. Even simpler.”
Rioghan cleared his throat.
“If all goes to plan at full moon,” Anluan said, “we will hold another council, a bigger one, with representatives from further afield. Should an armed resistance be required, we must somehow involve the local populace and perhaps the neighboring chieftains as well.There are many challenges: challenges beyond anything we’ve ever dreamed. Caitrin and I will continue to search for the means to help you, I promise that. She believes there must be a way. I . . . I believe in her hope. Be quite clear on this: if we don’t manage to stand up against these invaders, it’s the end for all of us.Without us to help you, you’ll never be free of the curse. Without you to help us, we cannot save Whistling Tor.”
“By all means work on strategies for attack and defense,” Rioghan said to the warriors. “We’ll take all your ideas into consideration, but they can wait for a council of war. What Lord Anluan needs now is your assurance that you will submit to the control of his designated leaders at full moon. He wants an undertaking from the ten of you on behalf of the entire host.”
“You putting yourself forward as war leader here?” asked the ancient bearded fighter, scowling at Rioghan. “After what you did last time you got the chance?”
“Hold your tongue!” Eichri had taken three steps out into the center of the circle; the flickering torches made his eyes glow red, and I was reminded of his fearsome arrival on the day Cillian had nearly stolen me away from Whistling Tor.“Lord Anluan just asked us to work together, dolt, not to stir up suspicion and distrust amongst our own ranks. He needs a simple answer: yes or no.The rest of it can wait.”
The old man grimaced at him, but there was no real malice in it.
“Does anyone else wish to be heard?” Rioghan was fighting for calm; I heard the struggle in his voice.
“I’ll have a word.” Magnus stepped down to stand at one end of the table. He positioned himself so that he was facing neither Anluan nor the host directly. I thought he was trying to establish that he was neither leader nor follower here, but his own man. If anything, he was looking toward the gap in the circle, the place occupied by the invisible tenth. “First, I should tell you all that I’ve been down to the settlement today, and I’ve asked the folk there for their opinions. They’re wary, and that’s no surprise; they’ve had good cause for that over the years.They don’t trust any of the folk of the Tor, human, spectral or otherwise.” A nod towards Olcan and Fianchu with this last. “But they understand that there’s a new danger coming, and that we need to break old habits if we’re to have any chance of standing up to it. It’s vital that we get this next part right. If anything untoward happens while Lord Anluan is off the hill, if the people down there are given any cause for alarm, we’ll have lost all chance of winning their trust. And we need it.” Magnus squared his shoulders, looking out now towards the shadowy folk gathered under the trees, beyond the light from the torches. “I’m a fighter,” he said. “I haven’t used those skills much in recent times, but believe me, I still have them. I’m not a strategist like Rioghan here, but I know how to lead men. I know how to keep them going when the blood and the carnage and the misery seem fit to break the bravest and best. Chances are we’ll be fighting together before long.When we do, we’ll do it properly. You’ve got worthy warriors amongst you, leaders too, no doubt, and we’ll all work together. But not until the right time, and only if Lord Anluan bids us do it. He’s our chieftain. He gives the orders.And Rioghan’s his councillor. Anyone who wants to make comments about his fitness for the position can make them to me when we’re finished here.”
There was a brief, charged silence.
“That’s it.” Magnus turned and inclined his head to Anluan. “Thank you, my lord.” He walked back up to stand beside me.
“If others would express an opinion, now is the time,” Anluan said. Nobody responded. “Very well,” he went on. “I will ask for a formal declaration of your support. If you are prepared to provide that, I will speak to you again before full moon with further details of the plan. I believe that the control I exercise over certain elements amongst you will wane when I leave the confines of the hill.That is what has occurred with each chieftain in turn since my great-grandfather’s time. If I go to the settlement for this meeting, I must be confident that you will obey those I leave in charge. Those ten of you who represent the others, I ask you to raise a hand as indication of agreement to this.”
Cathaír’s hand went up straightaway, fist clenched. A moment later, those of each of the warriors standing beside him followed. Donn the smith lifted his brawny arm high.The women and the monk seemed hesitant.
“If you need time to consult those for whom you speak, we will wait now while you do so,” Anluan added. His tone had lost something of its confidence; I knew he was bone weary. “We must have a decision tonight.”
The monk raised his hand. It would have taken a brave man not to do so with Eichri at his side, baring those teeth.
“The will of the host is to support you, my lord,” said the wise woman. “But there is disquiet. Memories stir, memories some had hoped gone forever.”
“Most of it’s vanished into shreds and tatters,” put in the woman clad in homespun.“Most of us can’t recall much about our lives before, nor about the time you mention, my lord, when your antecedents were chieftains here. But some of it won’t go away.The best and the worst, those cling even in the minds of folk such as we are, in-between folk, neither one thing nor the other. Dark deeds, terrible deeds we’d give much to wipe from our memories. Our own deeds. If . . .” She faltered and fell silent, unwilling to give voice to the next part of her thought.
The third woman raised a hand to adjust her glinting neck-piece. “Lord Anluan,” she said,“there can be no certainty in our promise, no matter how strong our will to help you. A darkness hangs over each one of us, from the innocent child to the battle-scarred warrior; a force that tampers with our minds and leads us into evildoing. Without your guidance, we may be unable to resist it.”
Anluan looked down at his hands, clasped on the table before him. “It was my ancestor who began this,” he said.“I am that man’s flesh and blood. I have borne the weight of his ill deed every day of my life, and every night it robs me of sleep. It was the same for my father, and for his fathe
r before him. Under that burden it is all too easy to give in to despair. The history of my family makes that painfully clear.” He drew a shuddering breath and looked up, facing the circle of wan faces and shadowy eyes. “Enough of this. I have learned, this summer, that the most powerful weapon is hope. I understand the nature of your concern. Neither your promise nor mine can be made without reservations. Our bargain should be this: that each of us does the very best he can to be true to his word. I will be content with that.Will you?”
A rustling around the circle, not speech but restless movement, as of a trembling passing through the insubstantial forms of the host. “We will,” said the woman, and she and her companions raised their hands. Out in the darkness, a forest of pale arms arose in unison.
“I thank you,” said Anluan. His voice was a thread, but it was nonetheless the voice of a chieftain. I glanced at Magnus, and he smiled; I knew we felt the same pride.
“What of the tenth amongst you,” Rioghan asked,“the one whose voice we cannot hear? Is this entity in agreement with the rest of the host?”
All eyes turned towards the empty space in the circle. “Yes, my lord,” said the wise woman. “If there is a single certainty tonight, it is that.”
“Very well,” Rioghan said. “Our council is concluded and you are all free to go. Be sure you will be called again, for there are plans to make for full moon, and likely a great deal of work after that. For now, we bid you good night.”
“Again, thank you,” Anluan said. “Trust can be a hard lesson; hope still more difficult.We are all learning.”
When the host had dispersed and the torches were extinguished, we retreated to the warmth of the kitchen fire. Nobody had much to say. Magnus poured ale; I divided one of the loaves he had brought back and served up the cold pie. Anluan looked utterly spent. I had cut him only a small slice: his appetite was poor at the best of times. To my surprise, he worked his way steadily through it.