CIARAN MAC RORY QUEEN MEDB'S GAME Part III 8 A.D. Eiru ..................................... [GM] Your horse takes you along the road to the Sinann. You pass many people on the way, but no one has seen a pretty young girl wandering on her own. Asking as you go is the only way you're likely to find Caitlyn, at least until you reach the lake, and even then, finding any trail she might have made will take a great deal of luck. If Medb can't find her with her sorcery, it's going to take you all your wiles and more to track down one girl along the long stretch of river between here and the sea, with a large lake to search in between. By the time you reach Lough Ree, you've not picked up any evidence of Caitlyn's passing, which is not surprising. For her to have even gotten out of Cruachain indicates she must have more wiles than Medb gives her credit. But you're feeling stronger every day, with the provisions Medb gave you supplemented by a little hunting. The sun and the wind themselves seem to strengthen you, now that you're no longer trapped in a dark hole. <><><><><> Ciaran travels at a leisurely pace, relaxing in the sun and enjoying the breeze. He continued to travel around the southern end of of Lough Ree. He would pursue the information that Medb had offered him, but in the back of his mind, he felt that she might be leading him somewhere he would rather not be. And finding Caitlyn might prove to be the least of his worries at that point. Ciaran rides for the inhabited shoreline. Perhaps there would be news or something to further his search. If not, he could at least learn the best route to get to the wooded and *haunted* southern tip of the Ree. And he whistled a lively tune that he had occasion to perfect while in his two different cells while in the captivity.... err... hospitality of Queen Medb. <><><><><> [GM] Passing along the shore of the lake, you come upon a solitary hut, in which dwells an old lady, living all by herself. Mindful of the role solitary old ladies play in many tales, you'd be inclined to display utmost courtesy and wariness even if you hadn't had some particularly educational experiences with old ladies in the past.... This one greets you affably enough, and offers you lunch....cheese and bread, and fish she says she caught herself. You do see some nets spread out along the shore, behind her hut. She moves nimbly, for an old lady. After the usual round of small talk, and your usual questions, she replies, "Why yes, I have seen a pretty young girl travelin' by herself! Came up to me door just two nights ago she did, shiverin' cold, poor thing! It was raining, don't you know? I let her stay the night, gave her some food....I offered to let her stay with me long as she liked, but she said she had to be movin' on. Wouldn't tell me why she was in such a frightful hurry, but she was runnin' from someone, sure enough-" The woman's eyes suddenly go wide, and then she glares at you and shuts her mouth. <><><><><> Ciaran is extremely respectful of the elderly woman. The tales themself are all too clear on the importance of things like this. And, yes, his experiences with the three older women he has come to know on a basis far more intimate than he ever wished has only reinforced this attitude further. He listened to her telling of the young woman and the fact that there was some pursuit... or something. The old woman grows quiet and Ciaran registers the suspicion that she shows. "Kind woman," he begins in a soft voice. "You know me not and I have but my word of honor to offer you.... to convince you of my intentions. I seek to help the woman I am looking for. She has few friends, but I am one... maybe the only one... She is in grave danger and has made some dark enemies... If I find her before they do, then mayhap, she might have a chance..." He met her eyes imploringly. He wanted her to see into his and see that he spoke the truth. She was a wise woman. They always were in the tales. A seeress or a druid or maybe even a Sidhe. He wanted her to see the kindness that Caitlyn had offered him in a very dark time. The debt he owed and the feelings he had for her. "If my words are not enough to convince you of my sincerity, then I will not impose upon you any further... You can help me... help her... if you wish.... or not. I will continue to search for her.... but time is running out... of that I am sure." <><><><><> [GM] The old woman shakes her head and mutters unintelligibly to herself. Then she looks back up at you. "Your honor could as like be binding you to seek the lass out for some other purpose as for to save her." She waves a hand in the air. "I can't see into your heart, boy. Whether you mean her ill or no, I canna' tell, so I canna' tell you more. Now you know that she has passed this way." Her eyes glimmer in the light of her small fire. "She came from the same direction you did. You will have to determine for yourself in which direction she left. I will say, if she went south, that is the most dangerous direction, an' I told her so, for the woods to the south are haunted." <><><><><> Ciaran nodded solemly to the old woman. "You have been more gracious and kind than most might have been." He stood slowly and offered her a smile as he stepped backwards from her. He had no intention of pushing her generosity any further. "I thankyou for the time you have spent and the words you have spoken. My path is a narrow and dangerous one and I fear I don't know what my honor has me bound to anymore... but I know what course my heart must follow. I need her and she needs me. Your hospitality has been ever so kind... My name is Ciaran McRory of Emain Macha, and I must go now, but should you call upon me...." He stepped toward the entrance to leave. Once outside he would walk his horse a bit and then begin to seek any evidence of Caitlyn's passage. Especially looking towards the South. The woman made sure to mention that direction to him. The thought of the Sidhe haunted woods did not sound particularly appealing to him. The Fey magics made him extremely uneasy and he feared being led astray by the Tuatha de Danaan, but his options were limited and he needed to speak with the young woman before he decided what path he would follow. Sidhe or no Sidhe, he intended to seek her out. <><><><><> [GM] At the end of the evening, when you camp for the night, you are at the southwestern edge of the lake. Tomorrow, you will have to cross the Sionnain River, to reach the woods on the other side. You sleep restlessly, imagining that you can hear the fey creatures waiting for you, whispering *Ciaran....Ciaran....* No, you DO hear something whispering your name....you open your eyes, and push back the cloak wrapped around your body....and see something pale and white and ghostly, drifting between two trees just at the edge of the clearing where you lay down for the night. Your horse is stomping and yanking at its tether, eyes rolling back in its head, snorting in fear. <><><><><> He moved carefully and easily to gather his sword. It had all the makings of Fey magic... a Will-O-Wisp fairy from the underhill come to haunt him and lead him astray. And it knew his name already. Or was he imagining that. He pulled his cloak about him tightly and grabbed up his spear in his off hand. He took a few steps forward. "I'll not be threatened or frightened by Fey magic.... Ghosts and Goblins rambling over the bogs... You know my name and that means you aren't everything you want me to think you are.... now show yourself and let us be about this... whyever it was you came here," he hissed at the ghostly apparition. Another step forward and he readied the spear for a throw. <><><><><> [GM] The ghostly white figure is hazy and indistinct...it looks vaguely like a humanoid shape, and with some imagination, you might even say it is that of a woman...but it is no mortal creature. You cannot see its face. High-pitched tittering is the only response to your challenge. <><><><><> Ciaran hoped that it, whoever or whatever it was, would have made a move, but his own fears kept him from dashing forward to meet it. His pride kept him from admitting he was scared. "Aye... then Dagda damn you. You can stay there and I will stay here, But... I have no intention of gettin' any closer than this, and I sure ain't gonna follow you into the forest." He tried to seat himself and wanted to ignore the thing, but his horse was likely to die of siezure and that wouln't do him any good either. He kept it in view, but pretended he was ignoring him or her.... whatever. But it was of no use. When the Fey had a message to give a mortal, you either got the message or your life became a nightmare of bad luck. Ciaran didn't think he could deal with anymore bad luck. He wasn't mortal either, but that probably didn't matter to the Sidhe. He choked back his fear and stood again. "Alright," he began as he took a step towards the appartion. "I never get to decide what I want to do anyway... might as well get used to it again. I'm coming... but mind you... If have iron," he said half threatening, as he showed the poor quality broadsword. The other half of him was fearful. Legends told that the Sidhe were allergic to Iron. Whether there was any truth in that Legend remained to be seen. He took a few more steps as he approached the Fey ghost. He was sweating, or felt like he was. His insides knotted and he gritted his teeth harder with each weak knned step. <><><><><> [GM] The apparition drifts ahead of you....seems to beckon you onward...but always stays the same distance ahead. It's only a small stand of oak trees, with a fair amount of space separating them from the nearby larger patches of woods....yet somehow, as you wander between the trees, the size and thickness of them seems to have been enlarged, and they seem to go on and on, far deeper than you can possibly reckon with your daytime memory....you are lost in a deep forest, surrounded by twittering noises and faint glimmering lights at the edge of your vision, which vanish when you look directly at them.... And then you've come back out the way you came in, and are standing there with spear in your hand, looking at your quivering horse, and your cloak and sacks, lying under the tree you chose to sleep next to. The Fey ghost has vanished, and the woods to your back are just a small stand of trees again. <><><><><> He sighed audibly and even allowed himself a small chuckle as he walked back to his encampment. He had made it back from... wherever... none the wiser... but certainly no worse of that he could perceive yet. The night was likely still young... then again, it might have been days that passed. There was no way to know. He sat on the uprooted and fallen tree near his sacks and shook his head. He had proven to himself that he had the courage to face the Fey. But, he didn't understand what it was they wanted him to see or hear. maybe, just an exercise in troubling a Milesian. IOt was certainly pointless to try and associate reason to the Tuath. And this was his first encounter with something of this nature. He sipped his water and ate some dry rations. This was not a good place to hunt. The Fey might take offense. He settled down to sleep, and whistled a tune that he had become quite fond of. It was known as the Whistling Rover. Or that was what he called it. <><><><><> [GM] The Fey do not bother you again, and when you set off the next morning, you almost doubt that last night wasn't a dream. The terrain here is old, scenic and fairly pristine, but the trees don't seem so mysterious by daylight, and you see and hear nothing unnatural. Until you get to the point where the Siannon River drains from the lake. You expected a widening of the lake shore and a thickly-wooded embankment, and that perhaps you would have to ride up and down the river a ways, looking for a decent point to cross. Instead, you emerge from the treeline and see before you a river that is impossibly wide....the opposite shore is a distant line on the horizon, and the water flowing between is a small ocean. You don't need to find a ford to cross this, you'd need a ship! Your knowledge of the geography of southern Eiru is based only on hearsay, but nonetheless, this seems impossible. You've never heard of the Siannan being so immense, and this is a virtual inland sea, which you would certainly have heard of. Perhaps you somehow found your way to the east coast, and are actually looking across the sea, towards Prydain? But no, you couldn't possibly have wandered THAT far off- course....could you? And the water is still flowing past like a river, not washing against the shore in waves, like a sea. At the same time, the back of your neck prickles, warning you, if the impossible view before you was not enough, that something supernatural is at work here. And your spine tingles slightly, with a trace of the Quickening touching your senses. <><><><><> Perhaps he had been astray all along. He had followed the Fey creature and thought he was safely away from them. Maybe he was wrong. He stared at the river... or lake with a current... or whatever it was. He was fairly certain it wasn't the Sinann. Ciaran tenses at the sense of impending danger. He learned many, many years ago to take it seriously. He drew the sword in his right hand. The remained on the horse, and loosened the tether that kept the spear tied firmly to his ride. The he sensed the stirring in the Quickening and he knew that this danger was was for him. His eyes scanned the horizon all around him. Out across the river... and into the trees behind him he stared, trying to focus on the Quickening to guide him. <><><><><> [GM] The shivering sensation in your spine fades...and the sense of danger also diminishes, but does not go away. And the Siannan (?) remains in front of you, impossibly wide. <><><><><> Ciaran relaxes slightly, but he still continues to look about him. The range of his Quickening sense was not very far. And the fact that the threat was no longer being sensed did not relieve him of the sensation that things were not well. The other immortal might be just outside his range of sense, pacing him. He rested the sword across his lap, and wheeled the horse. He had no intention of trying to cross. If this was the Sinann at all, he would need to turn southward anyway. He tried to find any evidence of a person's passage, Tracks, disturbed grasses or leaves, broken scrub brush... a damp rock on the bank that didn't fit with the others and thus indicated that it had been stepped upon or anything. He was effectively lost without bearing and figured that he would work to locate some sign of his location... or the passage of Caitlyn. The thought that he was really somewhere far away, or now in the Fey lands of Underhill did a lot to make his confidence and moral waver. He had a low threshold for sorcery and sorcerors... even lower when he was the victim. <><><><><> [GM] The river-sea continues to rush past, with a strangely quiet sound for its immense size. As you wander southwards along the shore, you feel no more prickling at the nape of your neck...yet, something seems clearly amiss. You just can't put your finger on it. It's only when you come across a peasant, wading in the water trying to catch fish, that the world blurs, and goes greyish....and your sense of perspective suddenly expands....or the world is shrinking around you. The peasant looks up, startled and a little consternated, at the approach of a mounted warrior, while the Siannan, back to its normal size, continues flowing past. <><><><><> Ciaran watches the river for a time, and then looks to the peasant trying to fish. Then back to the river. It occurred to him to ask the man about the possibility of a shared experience over this, but the man might think him mad. He smiled and moved the horse a short distance up the bank and tied it off to a tree that overhung the bank with plenty of shade. He pulled the feed sack for the animal and hand fed the beast for a few moments before attaching it around the horse's head. He watched the old man while he did this, and enjoyed the scenery, but a thought nagged him constantly and he wouldn't let it go. The answers to the thing he didn't know the questions for, were to be found back the way he came. "I take it you fish here often," he called out to the man. "My name is Ciaran I would be honored if you would sit at my fire this night." <><><><><> [GM] The peasant isn't actually an old man....he doesn't look much older than you appear to be. He clears his throat nervously and says "I fish here occasionally, aye....uh, your offer is very kind, and I hope you'll take no offense, but I have a mother at home I must be getting back to care for..." <><><><><> "Well enough," Ciaran responded. He unpacked his things from the horse and decided that he would set up here for the time being. It looked to be as comfortable a place as any other. And he didn't want to get too far away from the area where he had felt the other immortal and the effects of the astray trip. He ate from some rations and then decided to set up a snare or two to see what he might catch. The river being nearby, one never knew what might stroll down for a drink. He waited for nightfall, and when that finally came, he stood from his restful shady nook and gathered his spear and sword and a bit of rations and a skin of fresh water. He then started back the path that brought him to this spot. He intended to see what was in that area that he was led around. That immortal was there and hiding... and something or someone knew his name and baited him into getting led astray. He would hunt them now. <><><><><> [GM] Your hunt proves singularly unproductive. You sense not even a glimmer of the Quickening, or anything else supernatural, and the woods and the river, while still wild enough to harbor all kinds of strange things, don't give any overt signs of sidhe influence. Whoever or whatever was playing games with you earlier has either left, or is staying completely hidden now. <><><><><> At a small feeder stream Ciaran stopped and looked into the water. He touched the surface to watch the ripples spread out as they were gently being pulled away from him towards the Sinann. There was something he was missing, and by now it was probably to late. The first exposure to this phenomena was the apparition beckoning his name. The trees in a small copse were suddenly full and large and deep. and then he was led through the forest and returned, but things might not have been right up to that point, or they might have been, but he was already enraptured by the spell and when he reached the banks of what he expected to be the Sinann, he found himself within the veil of the sorcery again. What was he being diverted around. There was no evidence that he had found so far to show him that anyone other than he had passed this way. He stood from his small stream, looked at the depressions in the peaty soil and made the return trip to his encampment and the horse. Once he arrived there, he would gather his belongings, pack up the animal and return to the place he had broke the forest to see the Sinann, or whatever the sorcery made it look like. He knew he had turned south while it was that ocean like body of water. He couldn't cross it for obvious reason.... and maybe that was the thing he was missing. He was diverted south and when the spell finally broke, things became normal again. But, he had also thought that when he was returned by the ghost to his horse. None-the-less, he would ford the Sinann and search the far side and see if there was any trace of Caitlyn or the sorceror... if they weren't one and the same. Sometimes he wondered to himself, just who was he caught between. Medb, Scathach, Caitlyn, and the Morrigan.... There were days when he believed that there was really less than four... but he had nothing to prove his own suspicions, and it was, more or less, a fanciful way to occupy his mind while he looked for tracks and signs of passage as he headed north to ford the river. <><><><><> [GM] Now that the Siannan is back to its proper size, it's not so difficult to find a place to ford. On the other side, you find as little evidence of your sorcerous harasser as before. Perhaps the sidhe were simply being mischievious, and picked you as the butt of some unfathomable faerie prank. Or perhaps you offended them in some unknown way. Or perhaps Morrigan or Medb is putting obstacles in your way. Or perhaps there is a sorceror living here, who does not welcome visits by immortals. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. You know nothing about magic, except that you don't like it. Nothing to do but continue on, or turn back. <><><><><> Ciaran forded the river a second time that day and turned southward. He had no real trail to follow in the hopes of tracking Caitlyn, but he was determined to make his time seem useful and committed to the task that Medb had commanded of him. She had ways of knowing things the that he did, and she might even be able to use that magic to track him. Their would be the holy cairns and passage tombs to investigate.... After that... it was an open game of fidchell... But Ciaran knew he was still a pawn in the game. South it would be. <><><><><> [GM] Skirting the deep sidhe-haunted woods, you follow the Siannan, and pass several farms and villages, where you're greeted pleasantly enough. No one has seen a pretty young girl. With the lake a day's ride behind you, you come upon the first of a cluster of passage-tombs....commonly assumed to be the tombs of ancient High Kings, predating the coming of the Milesians. While considered important places, and generally not to be messed with, they are not considered holy, and you have not in the past, and do not now, sense the aura of holy ground around them. Investigating them turns up only dust and weeds, and occasional signs of human intrusion in the not-too-distant past. Which is not particularly surprising; most people will leave them alone, but children will venture into them on dares (as you did yourself as a boy), travelers who aren't particularly reverent (or frightened of haunts) will use them for shelter from the rain, and you had a bold friend back in Ulster who once boasted how he persuaded some of his lovers to meet him at a local tomb for romantic trysts. After that, you ride for several days without encountering another monument. Passage-tombs are common in Connacht, but less so in the south, it seems. You travel the entire distance from Lough Ree to Lough Derg without seing or sensing anything out of the ordinary (aside from a raven flying overhead...and if it's Morrigan, what of it? She can watch you when she pleases anyway.) At the next village you pass through, where you receive two meals and a warm place by the fire for the night, in return for a little help building a new enclosure for the village's small herd of cattle, the locals tell you that the nearest monument they know of is a sidhe hill, upland slightly from the river, about half a day south of here. The sidhe hills, now they are a different matter....the superstitious believe them to be passageways to the Otherworld, and even those who claim not to be superstitious rarely have the nerve to enter one of those places at night. They *are* holy sites, where the druids sometimes hold ceremonies, and the locals will occasionally bring offerings to the fey if they are afraid the sidhe are afflicting them with curses for some offense. The more mundane theory about these circular hilltop excavations is that they are court cairns, like the passage-tombs, where long-dead royalty was buried, probably by a different people than those who built the passage-tombs. But in any event, they are inevitably holy ground, and certainly a good hiding place, for the brave. <><><><><> Ciaran considered himself to be a brave person. He could charge into battle, in the face of overwhelming odds and fight against foes who claimed to have sorcerors working for them. He had stared the Morrigan in the eyes and lived to tell about it. Now, it occurred to him that those things might not have been bravery at all, perhaps a good dose of stupidity and arrogance. The very idea of exploring a Sidhe cairn, the hill mounds that led to the fey Otherworld and Underhill, gave him pause. And the thought of encroaching upon the territories of those ancients, the Tuatha De Danaan... Children of Danu, turned his blood cold with fear. The Fey were gifted by the Gods and protected. They had their own form immortality bestowed upon them. And that thought brought to mind a question he had once considered about _his_ immortality. He dismissed it quickly enough, for it was idle speculation on his part. He had to find Caitlyn though. She might have some answers that he desparately needed. He summoned that bravery... or stupidity and set out on the morning to find the described Fey mound. He would tie his horse some distance from it and take his belongings upon his back and walk the rest of the trip to explore this site. Once in sight of the hillock, he slung the sack and tied it off and armed himself with his sword and spear. <><><><><> [GM] The hill seems innocuous enough in what's left of the daylight, but you notice that, curiously, it is ringed at the bottom with a circle of thorn- hedges. That's not a feature you are familiar with, in association with court cairns. Riding all the way around the hill, you see no breach in the chest-high wall of thorns. <><><><><> Ciaran dismounts from the horse. He tethers the animal and takes his sword and spear and waterskin. That is an item he won't leave behind. Too long without. He steels himself and he can feel the pounding of his own heart. Each step brings to mind the stupidity of this. His own tension increases as he walks toward the opening in the hedge. His eyes scan the hedge for anything out of the ordinary. Anything that might tell him that this was a trap of some sort. And he circled the hedge again on foot trying to find a way in that might allow him to avoid the pain of pushing his way through it. <><><><><> [GM] There seems to be no such opening. It's going to be the hard way... <><><><><> Ciaran knew that a thorn hedge could quickly dull a blade of poor quality, and there was the feeling he would need this weapon soon. He thought of moving slowly through the thorns, and remembered childhood lessons of that sort, getting lost and having to move through wallks of thorns to find a path again. The pain that you thought you could avoid was usually worse when you went slowly to pick your way around the thorns. He pulled his cloak about him as tightly as he could, shielded his eyes to allow him a little sight and plenty of protection and rushed the wall of thorns. He started from a distance back to build speed. He used his strength and momentum to try and bull his way through to the other side. With any luck, he might be able to get a moment afterwards to let his healing take over. Unless the thorns were magical, or poisonous, and then he would be in real trouble. But it was too late to worry about that possibility now. <><><><><> [GM] You crash into the thorns, and they seem thicker, thornier and more tenacious than any thorn-bushes you've ever encountered before. They tear at your face and stab you from head to toe, through your cloak and through your leather...yet the remarkable viciousness of the hedge doesn't seem to slow your headlong plunge through it. For a moment the hedge seems to widen, to become an endless forest of thorns through which you will never pass, much the way the Siannan suddenly contracted from its oceanic dimensions, except in reverse...then you're through. Rolling to the ground and grimacing, you examine yourself to see how long it will take for you to heal. There are bright crimson red, almost surreal splotches of blood on your arms and legs, and pooling on your cloak. Then the blood evaporates. Your skin still itches with the memory of being stabbed and torn, yet you find no abrasions, and your clothes are not torn at all. From inside the circle of thorns, they seem hazy, almost insubstantial. <><><><><> The use of Fey Magic made his mood deteriorate as quickly as the blood had evaporated. He gripped the blade tightly and stalked towards the Sidhe Court Cairn. <><><><><> The first major type of megalithic monument to claim our attention here is the court cairn....a rounded forecourt leading to a flat-roofed gallery, standing at one (usually the eastern) end of a trapezoidal, ovoid or coffin-shaped mound. The facade of the forecourt can form more or less than a semicircle, and is made of upright stones which often have smaller, horizontally laid stones filling the gaps between them. The two central stones of this rough semicircle are often more marked than the others, as they stand guard at the entrance to the megalithic gallery behind them. This gallery is usually subdivided into two, three or sometimes four, separate chambers, the division being created by upright jambs in the side-walls placed sufficiently far apart to allow access to the hindmost section. Where traces of the chamber roof have survived, they are large flat stones placed directly on the upright orthostats forming the walls of the chamber, though occasionally small corbel stones have been placed above them for the roof-stone to rest on. About thirty court cairns have one, or sometimes two, subsidiary chambers located in the hind-part of the cairn, with an entrance from the outside which is totally independent of the main megalithic gallery leading off the forecourt.... -"Pre-Christian Ireland", Peter Harbison, (c) 1988 .......... I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to the thread, And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout. When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossoms in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck, till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun. -W. B. Yeats, "The Song of Wandering Aengus" .......... The stones of this cairn stand silent and and untouched by mortal hands, or that is the impression you get, anyway. Almost as soon as you stepped onto the flattened ground that stretches between the stones ringing the forecourt, you sensed the somnulent presence of Holy Ground, warning you of the consequences, never witnessed but probably dire nonetheless, should you draw blood here. Behind you, the ring of thorns is flickering and growing ever more insubstantial in the fading twilight. From here at the top of the hill, you cannot quite see to the ocean, but you know it lies just over the western horizon, where the sun now burns dimly. Braced on either side by a particularly massive pair of stones, the dark entrance to the cairn gapes at you, challenging your courage and arousing all your dread of magic and the sidhe (as well as a more mundane but equally real flashback to weeks you just spent in a dark hole...). It yawns at you, in the still air, daring you to continue onward, and inside. <><><><><> A chill passed through him. He stopped and stood. He stared into the depths of the darkness. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. He stroked his beard relexively as he tried to find courage. "A body doesn't go trapsing around lightly in the burial cairns of the Sidhe," he mumbled to himself. His grip on the sword and spear tightened and loosened. He took a step forward and stopped again. He galnced back to the fading wall of thorns. There was definitely something Fey at work here, and as the thought crossed his mind, his eyes snapped back to the opening that led into darkness.. Then around him to make sure he was still alone. "Ah Cait... why did ye' have to go and pick a Sidhe tomb," he said in the same low voice. He hefted the broadsword so that he could use his wrist to scratch at a nervous itch on his bearded chin. "CAITLYN." He called her name a second time. "IF YOUR IN THERE.... AW' C'MON CAITLYN... IT'S CIARAN... I REALLY DON'T FANCY COMING TO LOOK FOR YE' IN THERE BUT IF'N YOU CALL OUT... I MIGHT FIGURE IT TO BE OKAY... JUST LET ME KNOW IF YER HERE." <><><><><> [GM] There is no answer. <><><><><> Ciaran grimaced and stepped forward and then back. He turned around and took a few paces and shook his head, hoping that Caitlyn would answer, but it didn't come. He turned again and took a deep breath... then another... and then a third. With each one, he thought he might find the courage to enter the dark, but that never came either. He took a step and peered into the dark. Another step and held his sword and spear at the ready. "Okay.... Caitlyn... I'll play this your way... but so help me, you will regret this..." He continued to edge forward until he came to the edge. The sound of his own fot stepping on an uneven and broken piece of stone caused his heart to race, and he jumped back a bit. Two more deep breaths and a step or two to regain the lost ground. He clenched his teeth and stepped into the mouth of the opening. <><><><><> [GM] Standing in the mouth of the passageway, it doesn't seem *quite* so scary...your eyes begin to adjust, and you see plain dirt and stone leading into the darkness. It could be just another ancient earth and rock construction, like the passage-tombs, containing nothing but dust and old bones. But the passage-tombs are usually somewhat open, and never so large or so deep. And they aren't usually surrounded by magical thorn hedges, either. Another step, and the Quickening flickers at the edge of your senses, and then grows stronger. There is definitely an immortal within. <><><><><> >Caitlyn< A small frightened voice came from inside. "No! This is holy ground ... you can't ... please...it's against the rules. Just let me go, Majesty... please... please... please..." The last please was lost in a sob. <><><><><> Ciaran tightened his jaw. He spoke in a hissing voice. "Stop yer whimpering Caitlyn. I've had all I can handle with the games the three of you play with each other... Now... I think I'm owed some explanation." He still couldn't trust to the fact that this immortal was really Caitlyn, and that they would observe holy ground or any other rules. He kept himself at the ready. This place was entirely too dark for comfort. <><><><><> There was the sound of footsteps, light ones, moving away, and the sound of tears, also moving away. "I'm not going back! You can't make me ... you can't..." <><><><><> "CAITLYN.... Enough!" Ciaran held his ground. He had no intention of following her deeper. The possibility of a well devised trap still occupied his mind. *Never trust a woman.* HIs voice was measured and calm, but not very soothing. "If I found you... then she can too... You weren't very imaginative... I didn't even have to track you... I just checked places along the way... and the sorcery around this place made it pretty obvious... This is holy ground... You can talk to me here where I am at... The rules are clear, I can't drag you off holy ground, even if I wanted to... Now... you and I have two choices... we can do this easy, and talk and figure out what is best for us... or I can set up camp outside the mound and hunt and fish for myself and eventually you'll have to come crawling out... Either way is fine with me... You get to decide how much trust we put in each other. But let's be clear... I am not going to coddle you and baby you... or even beg or cajole you into coming out where I am at... You decide!" <><><><><> In the silence that came when the footsteps stopped, he might be able to hear labored breathing and an occasional sob. "How do I know it's you? It could be one of her illusions... and she can make voices sound like whatever she wants." Slowly, very slowly, she began to approach him. "I can't run anymore...if you're going to kill me, go ahead." She came into the light. In her hands, she carried a sword. A warrior would have used it one-handed, but the small girl held the hilt in both of hers. <><><><><> Ciaran looked at her for a moment as she emerged from the depths of the passage carrying th sword. He shook his head, and lowered the point of his own. He kept it ready, just in case. "You don't know if it's me... but ye might as well put it down anyway... Yer on holy ground and I'm not gonna swing at ye' woman... And worse yet, yer likely to hurt yourself if'n you do swing it at me. The d*** thing weighs about as much as you do." <><><><><> The large blue eyes were tired and scared and her body seemed to tremble with exhaustion. "I think she's following me... I thought it was her... I felt it, you know, the quickening, everytime I stopped to rest." She let the sword drop with a clatter, sinking down to her knees beside it. The hem of her skirt was muddied and her feet were bare. "I can't go back ... I can't let her find me." She bent forward, her head in her hands. <><><><><> Ciaran watched her with a forced resolve not to become caught up in her emotional display. Not until he understood more about the whole mess he was involved in. He slipped his rations bag and water skin from his back and swung them out to her. "Eat and drink Caitlyn... then we can talk... I know you are tired... but I have many questions... and you have more answers than I do." Ciaran edged forward enough to be close enough to take her sword from the place she had laid it. "How about I hold that," he said as he pointed at the sword. I keep it safe while you eat... My word that I won't keep it from you... I just want to relax a bit here." <><><><><> The fear on her face was evident as he asked to take her sword. "But ... " And then she nodded. "It doesn't matter. If you're one of her illusions, you'll do what you want, and if you're really Ciaran, you won't hurt me."She pushed it towards him. "Take it ... I don't know how to use it anyway." She sipped once from the waterskin and then again more rapidly. Her swallow was audible as if the taste and wetness were more welcome than the company. She whispered as if the queen might hear. "How did you get free?" <><><><><> "I have no intention of hurting you, and that is the way it will remain, unless you decide differently." Ciaran picked up the sword. He leaned it against the wall of the tomb and sat down on the floor with his back against the same wall and watched Caitlyn drink from his waterskin. "I didn't get free... She sent me to get you, bring you back to her... in exchange for my own freedom... or two weeks of it anyway, before she resumes the hunt... But, I know she won't keep the bargain... You represent something to her... I can see it in her eyes... as if she sees you as herself... a long time ago." His voice trailed off. "Questions Caitlyn... I have questions," he said softly with a gentle shake of his head. He galnced down at his feet and then back to her again. <><><><><> >Caitlyn< She shook her head. "You're going to have to kill me. I won't go back to her." <><><><><> "I didn't say anything about taking you back... now did I Caitlyn?" He let the implications settle in on her. When he spoke again, it was slow and deliberate. Care was taken with his words. "I didn't say that wasn't going to take you back either... But know this... I will not drag you from here... Holy Ground... but you know you can't stay here forever, and Gann is likely tracking me because he can't track you... Medb is probably watching me as well, but I think there might be a few things that prevent her from seeing another immortal... like Holy Ground... Right Caitlyn? Or is there something deeper that I should know? You know, I have this terrible feeling in my gut that you are using me as much as they do..." "How about this naggin' feelin'.... That there is only one person.... Caitlyn, Medb, and the Morrigan... all the same immortal... three aspects of our Goddess... I canna' shake the thought from my mind... I had a great deal of time to think it through... and the edge of insanity might just be the place to start from... I could be terribly wrong, or partially right... I don't know... but until you tell me a bit about yourself and about what you know of Medb... I have only my own instincts and fears to go on... Will ye' talk to me, now... answer my questions?" <><><><><> >Caitlyn< She looked like nothing so much as a small child who'd been kicked and beaten for no reason that she could understand. "Aye, Ciaran, I'll answer your questions. I'll tell you everything you want to know and then you can take my head. She said you would if you got the chance. She told me not to trust you, but I'm a fool, an addlepated fool, and I thought that ... thought... well, what I thought doesn't matter." She capped the watersack and placed it on the ground, leaning her head back against the wall. Her eyelids had a bruised look about them, and she was pale with exhaustion and fear. Her whole body seemed to be trembling as she rested there. "Ask your questions, Ciaran ... ask away. I can't run another step anyway." <><><><><> It wasn't working. No matter what he had told himself, his intentions of keeping his resolve strong were not working. He wanted to help her, hold her... and be her friend. The doubts in his mind haunted him and conflicted with his heart, and it left a gnawing ache in his soul. He really shoul take her head and solve his troubles on one front, and then deal with Medb next. And with any luck, it would solve his problems on all fronts. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't and he would likely lose his head because of it. She needed help, and so did he. He sighed audibly. "Caitlyn... I'm not here to take your head... and I would rather not take you back to Medb... but I haven't got many options... I was hoping that talking to you might give me an idea or two... anything that might tell me how to beat her... escape her... anything... and take you along with me... But this is a tough world and these are tough opponents with centuries of experience, and I can't tell who to trust... If I can trust anyone at all... There isn't time to coddle you... or pamper you... We have much to teach each other and very little time to do it in..." He leaned his head back against the wall. "There's some food in the sack... eat.. You need the food, and you helped me, when you didn't have to... I owe you that... but more importantly... I like you Caitlyn... It will probably get me killed, but that is my fault then, and I must deal with that in due time. So... Friends?" <><><><><> >Caitlyn< She looked at him, opening her eyes so that the blue brilliance focussed on his face. "I'm not hungry ... just tired. I ... overdid, I think. I used all my strength to keep you away ...not you. Whoever was following me. " She sighed, a long shuddering sound that shook her slender frame. "I ... suppose we're friends. Her majesty says men and women can't be ... but I know that I feel something for you." Her eyes closed again and her head slid down against the wall. <><><><><> "Then rest Caitlyn... I will watch for us... you should sleep... and it might very well have been me that you were trying to elude... the Fey Ghost in the magic forest that knew my name and the few moments that I felt an immortal close at hand... Rest little one... but after that... we begin." He sat back and layed his sword across his lap and picked up hers to judge the quality of her weapon and compare it to the poor one that Medb had outfitted him with. He kept a watch over her, but still he kept a measured wariness. This was Holy Ground and she couldn't harm him here, if she were staging this for Medb... or worse... if she _was_ Medb. <><><><><> >Caitlyn< Her eyes closed and her breathing calmed, evening to a soft, almost inaudible sound. She was huddled up, her legs tucked close to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if she were hugging herself for comfort. Defenseless, she looked even younger, just barely grown. Occasionally the girl shivered and jerked in her sleep, some dream haunting her, perhaps. <><><><><> [GM] Caitlyn may not know how to USE a sword, but she certainly picked a good one to steal. High-quality iron, harder than most any blade you've seen before, with an exceptionally keen edge. It's the work of a master blacksmith, possibly even imported from a foreign shore. This confirms your suspicion that Medb had to have plenty of weapons in her armory finer than the cheap ones she gave you. Caitlyn is the very picture of innocence, as she lies sleeping across from you, with her back against the stone wall. Beautiful, frail, vulnerable....and Medb's pupil. The Morrigan's warning won't ever let you forget that...yet, it occurs to you, that warning could even have been part of the game *Morrigan* is playing with you. She's certainly just as likely as Medb to try to manipulate you into choosing enemies and allies to suit to *her* unfathomable whims. You also can't help noticing that Caitlyn's skirt is ripped and torn, showing you quite a bit of one shapely white leg. And her blouse is not only torn, but stained with dried blood. Both skirt and blouse are filthy. She must not have changed clothes since fleeing Cruachain, and by the looks of things, it's possible her clothes weren't in such good shape when she fled. <><><><><> He watched her, and smiled to himself. She was a fair maiden indeed, and any man would be proud to be seen with her. He could not help but look at her legs and the softness of her skin. But he was a man of personal honor, and he was her friend. He wouldn't dare make an advance upon her. Ciaran slipped his dirty cloak from his shoulders and leaned over to cover Caitlyn with it. He found her very attractive, but she was young... Maybe not, but she certainly looked and acted young. And he resolved himself to accept her as the person she wanted him to see, until it was proven differently. He needed to start trusting someone if he was to have some hope of escaping Medb and Morrigan. He really had no ideas or plans now. He had found Caitlyn, but he didn't know what would be next. He sat there in the shadowy light that spilled from the outside and looked at her sleeping form. Perhaps it was time to leave Eiru to Medb and Morrigan and let them settle this with another pawn. That might just be the smartest thing for him. And maybe for Caitlyn as well. She was bright and pretty, and had some talents... maybe she could help him learn something... and maybe he could teach her to swing a sword. He looked down at the weapon she had brought with her. It was a fine one. A true master's work... like the blade his Father had given him... the one he lost to Medb. Bas Cuartu. One day he would have his family's weapon back. One day when he was stronger and wiser... He and Caitlyn would return to Eiru... and they would... They would what? By the Gods, he was already making plans and the lass was barely asleep. She might have ideas all her own... and they might not include him. And they might be better ideas than his. <><><><><> Her eyes fluttered open when he covered her with his cloak, but she didn't seem to be seeing him. Perhaps she was already dreaming. "Hold me, Da... it's so cold and I am afraid." <><><><><> Her stirring brought his attention fully around to her. She seemed to be dreaming. He raked a hand trough his thick black hair and watched her a bit more, but made no move to comfort her or intrude upon her sleep. He was not her father, nor would he pretend otherwise. She made the decision to run from Medb, and she would have to learn to live with that choice. She had not chosen to be immortal, but that too was something she would have to learn to live with and accept. He pulled the cloak up a bit closer to her neck and cover her shoulders to guard her better against the cool breeze that came from the outside, wandering through the darkened passage. He would still sit and wait until she was rested though. <><><><><> >Caitlyn< She didn't sleep long, an hour, perhaps two, when she woke startled awake, her blue eyes wide and frightened. Then she saw Ciaran. In the moment of new awakening, she looked at him and took a deep breath. "You won't hurt me, will you, Ciaran? Please?" Her slender hands pulled the cloak around her tighter, as if it could stop his blade if he chose to use it. Her chin was almost quivering with fear, but she didn't run, just sat huddled there, looking at him. <><><><><> "That question can be answered many ways," said Ciaran quietly as he cleaned the fine sword that Caitlyn had stolen. He didn't look towards her as he did so. "We are on Holy Ground right now... I can't hurt you... And I will not take your head on any ground... unless you betray me and force me too... but you need to learn how to use a weapon to defend yourself... and that means you will feel pain... but you are immortal and it will heal... That is how the training goes... I will never hurt you to punish you... and I will never hurt you for some twisted amusement... but you will learn to survive... You will be a student... but you will also be a teacher." He leaned across to pick up the near empty waterskin. He weighed it in his hands and shook his head. He passed it to her. "Drink some... we will need to get moving soon... I don't like hiding" He waited until she had sipped the water before speaking again. "Gann and his men are not very good trackers. How does Medb know where to send her men to follow me... And Why can't she seem to follow you?" <><><><><> >Caitlyn< She smiled a little, a little-girl-wearing-grown-up-clothes sort of smile and accepted the waterskin. Her expression changed to puzzlement. "I don't know... I thought she was following me. I thought that she had found me ... but it was you." She smiled at him again. "And you won't make me go back to her. I don't want to do what she wants. She ... " Caitlyn leaned toward Ciaran, smelling of a soft perfume, sweat and blood. "I think you might be right that she wanted to kill you." <><><><><> Ciaran was certainly moved to react when Caitlyn leaned in closely. He slipped the sword right up to her neck, from his lap where he had been cleaning it. There was no warning, just reaction. "Listen very carefully," he said in a low hissing voice as he spoke through his teeth. "Don't.... ever... play games with me Caitlyn.... I don't like the way Medb and Morrigan treat me, and I will not tolerate it from you.... keep your manipulations to yourself... do it again... and your head comes free of your shoulders." He let the edge touch her neck. So she could feel the chill from the iron against her skin. "I am not your toy... You have played at answering my questions in the past... half answers... the start of something and then you change the subject, as if my curiosity will get the better of me... it hasn't... it only makes me angry... If there is something you wish to say, then say it... but don't play at word games with me... I have a very limited patience for them from any immortal... especially the female kind." "I am not moved by your tears or your plaintiff looks and half whispered tidbits of your life with Medb... For all I know, you are a spoiled brat, and the Queen was conducting the training as I would... and you just can't handle it... And if that is the case... you will die... I have no patience for the doe eyes and the tears." "I intend to fulfill my oaths... as I see fit to honor them... that means you will be going back to Medb... and I will be taking her head... as for when this happens... I don't know yet... I thought you needed help, and I came to offer it... But you choose to treat me this way, and that means my trust in you has diminished severely... My base instincts and my training have not been proven wrong... Never Trust a Woman." <><><><><> >Caitlyn< The fear was real. No matter what else he thought of her, the fear on her face was real. "Just go away, go away, go away..." She couldn't stop the tears, but it was obvious that she was trying to. "No one is going to do this to me again. No one is going to play at killin me and use it to scare me into doing things I don't want to do. You kill me, Ciaran, you take my head, or you leave me alone ... but don't do this." His blade was against the dried blood of her blouse. "I tried to talk to you ... you wanted me to talk ... and when I start, you attack me ... even though you said you wouldn't. You're as bad as she is ... and I should have done what she wanted!" She would have gotten up, pulled away, but she really had nowhere to go. She had only leaned forward to speak to him when he attacked her, unprovoked. "I don't want to be what the two of you are ... I don't want it!!" <><><><><> "YOU HAVE NO CHOICE AND NEITHER DO I!" Then his voice suddenly lowered as he pulled the blade away. There is a tired look in his eyes. The life of an immortal is not one he has found particualrly enjoyable. He was once a man who was much brighter and free of spirit. That much is apparent, but immortality has darkened him somehow. And it is something he knows and isn't proud of. He casts his eyes downward "Besides.... this is Holy Ground. And I told you I would never hurt you to punish you for some failure... I told you I wouldn't take your head, unless you forced me to do it... and you haven't done that yet.... I don't break promises... And I don't like the insinuation that I am playing a game with you... You are an immortal now, and whether that is a good thing or a bad thing... it matters not. This is not a game... There are people out there who hurt people because they like it. Medb enjoys the power that she has, because I think it makes up for some terrible past she suffered in humiliation. The Morrigan is insane, for all I know. Understand this Caitlyn, I have feelings and I don't like to be toyed with. I have a very low threshold for the manipulations... Morrigan and Medb have made certain of that. You might not have meant any of that in the way I felt it... and if that is the case, I am truly sorry... But I am not going to lose my head, should you be working for Medb right now." He leaned back against the wall and gnashed his teeth and flexed his hands over the hilt of the blade that rested across his lap again. His breathing was deliberate and measured, like he was trying to calm himself. When he spoke again, his voice was even quieter and softer in tone. "Now.... we can come to an agreement to work together and quit the games... and maybe, just maybe... we might get out of this mess with our heads. I like you Caitlyn... I really do... You helped me when you didn't have to, and that means much to me... I want to help you... because I felt you were a person like me... caught in the middle... but it is very hard to get past the fear of betrayal... I know nothing about you and everytime you seem ready to tell me something.... you stop short... and wall off whatever it is you were going to say... We both have a lot of unlearning to do, if we are going to work together and be friends.... I am willing to try... What else can I say Caitlyn?" <><><><><> She looked at him as he yelled at her ... and burst into tears. Whether she heard his other words is anyone's guess. She can't stop crying, sobbing as if her heart would break. <><><><><> Ciaran pushed the blade, Caitlyn's sword, from his lap and he stood. It lay where it fell and he picked up his waterskin and slung it over his shoulder followed by his pack. He then picked up his sword and spear. He said nothing. He didn't look back at her. He left the passage tomb and walked for his horse. He would leave this place and her. Perhaps Prydain might be more to his liking... if not, he might find the eastern empire that Scathach mentioned a better place to live. <><><><><> >Caitlyn< The sobbing girl stared at him as he picked up his belongings and started to walk away. Without thinking, she bent down and scooped up a handful of mud and slung it at him back. The mud hit dead center on his back and she ran after him, unarmed. "You ignorant son of a pig farmer!!" She grabbed his arm and kicked at his shin. "What do you think you are doing? You're going to leave me, go back and tell Medb you failed? Or are you going to betray me? I don't much care, you know, which one of you manages to take my head ... but I really thought you were different. Her majesty said I couldn't trust you, but I believed you were different, that you wouldn't hurt me, that you would like me for me... but you act like some stick doll that little girls play with. Maybe the only time you have any feelings is when you're starving to death." The words came tumbling out, half-sobbed, filled with anger and something more, some complicated emotion that only added to the intensity. "To think I told the Queen I was in love with you!" She kicked at him again. <><><><><> The mud hit Ciaran solidly in the center of the back. He stopped and hung his head for a moment. When he heard her running at him, he turned to face her. There was no anger in his expression. It just seemed to be a fact of life that he and this young woman would not be able to understand one another. He accepted the insults and didn't shake her grip loose. What his father was, and what that made him didn't really seem all that important to him anymore. He made his only defensive gestures to keep her from kicking him in vital areas and to try to avoid the worst of her kick's effects. She needed to say these things. he needed to give her a chance to vent all her pent up emotions. He stared at her and tried to keep his eyes locked on hers, even though it seemed she wasn't strictly paying attention to his face. He then deftly slipped his arms around hers and pulled her to him and kissed her on the mouth. He knew this action could make things worse for them, but he wanted to do it. He had wanted to do it for a long time now. <><><><><> >Caitlyn< She was stiff in his arms, rigid with anger and surprise. For a moment, she did nothing, just let him kiss her, his mouth against hers. Her heart was pounding wildly against his chest and she lifted her arms, hugging him around the waist in a gesture that was both companionable and seductive. A soft sound came from her throat as she began to return his kiss. <><><><><> And he kissed her. And he refused to release the moment for fear that the next would never be as good as this one. His arms held her tightly and the two weapons he owned were crossed behind her back. He dropped them both to clatter behind her, but his attention never wavered. His eyes were closed but he didn't need to see her. <><><><><> >Caitlyn< She whispered against his mouth, "You *do* care... I knew it, I knew it..." But words were not easy for her now as Caitlyn stood trembling in his arms. She kissed him, her kisses at once innocent and sensual. When his weapons clattered, she jumped, but she moved even closer to him, as if moving into his arms for protection. <><><><><> "Of course I do," he whispered. His fingers gripped as he snugged his arms tighter around her back. He didn't want to stop now. He didn't want it to end. But it had to end soon. They had to be moving and quickly at that. He could only suspect that Medb would be out to find him and her shortly. He pulled back slightly from her and met her eyes. The taste of her mouth and face lingering in his memory as he smiled softly. "We need to leave here Caitlyn... we need to find a safer place... where none of them can find us... Where we can decide our future... and live by our rules... We need to leave Eiru." <><><><><> >Caitlyn< "Leave? But this is home!" Caitlyn's slenderness was pressed tightly against him and her head was back so that she could look into Ciaran's face. "Can't we stay here? It's holy ground, you said so yourself... and we'll be safe and you can hold me..." Her voice was wistful. <><><><><> He whispered his reply. "Nay Cait... we canna' stay on holy ground forever.... I have a home that I built in Wicklow... on the peak of Blackstairs.... on holy ground... and that place would be better than this...But they can still come... and Medb sends mortals to do her fighting... they have no rules... Gann won't stop until he is dead... and Medb will find another one... This place is not meant to be a home... it is a place of ancient worship and maybe even someone's grave... I don't know for sure... Maybe the Morrigan will know... but we would never be safe here....." He held her close to him. "If we were together and learned to defend ourselves together... then we would be seen as a threat... because that isn't the way immortals do things... Now I don't really care what others think... and I'm willing to take some risks... but we are facing some powerful people here in Eiru... I want to be with you... but I want to live a life that isn't hiding... and if that means that we have to leave Eiru for a time... then so be it... We will return one day... and make this place our home... one day we will be strong enough to get rid of that witch and we can live in peace here... but that day is not now... Both of us have much to learn to stay alive..."