I've experienced more than my share of ancient magics, though I doubt this will be my last encounter.
The priest frowns slightly at Aoife's harsh tone. "Please believe me when I tell you we want to help you. Should you refuse our help, I'm worried you face a grim future."
Queen Aoife is somewhat comforted by Brother O'Maille's gente tone.
"I wasn't myself," the Queen admits. "Every morning, he would give me a potion, and then I would love him more than the sun and the moon. I would have done anything for him. I was jealous of the affection he showed for his children. I wanted him to love me..."
"You were under a spell," Braedan comforts her. "And now you are free."
Braedan turns to his kinsmen" "I am sorry to have acted alone. I should have spoken to you. But I had to do something. And now, the curse is broken. Isn't that what we came here for?"
Amergin raises an eyebrow. "Indeed? Queen Aoife was enchanted by the dark power of Aibell, the spirit of the O'Brian. King Lir must have concluded some alliance with her, in exchange for this potion. I cannot know why, or at what price, but in any case..."
Amergin sings a prayer, removes his simple torque, and hands it to the queen. She is surprised, but nevertheless accepts the gift with ceremonial tact, answering with her own prayer to her ancestors.
"My torque will hide you from the eyes of the spirits," Amergin explains. Queen Aoife bows, thankful, and puts on the torque.
"Now what?" Braedan asks, holding Queen Aoife's hand.
"I'm not going back," she decides.
Ó Máille turns to Aoife and beckons away from the others. "A moment?" Once sufficiently out of earshot, he speaks in a hushed voice. "I'm not sure how we are to proceed from here. Is the queen not free from her torment? How do we get back? Maybe we should go back to where we arrived, at the druidic shrine."
"You I will deal with after we get back." Aoife told Braedan before she turned and walked off with the Brother.
"I'm more worried about what is going to happen with her. I'd just leave her in Amergin's hands but Braedan is being such a fool I doubt he'll go along with it." Aoife told Ó Máille with a sigh. "but I would think maybe drinking the tea again at the shrine would work... no? Maybe asking Amergin?"
"Let's just see what his reaction to that proposition is." The priest sighs and turns to Braedan and the queen.
"I think it wise for you to stay with Amergin. I think he can keep you safe. We, on the other hand, cannot stay. We have our own conflicts to attend to. What say you?" With his last question Ó Máille nods to the druid.
Brother O'Maille finds Amergin exchanging a few quiet words with Braedan, who seems somewhat comforted. The wise old druid looks at the young heroes, and then simply nods.
"You were here to save Queen Aoife," Amergin ponders. "And now, you vision quest is ending... I will will accompany you to the Druid's Altar, and hope that the spirits will guard us from Aibell until then."
"Perhaps on our way, you can tell me more about this God who answers your prayers?"
Ó Máille's face regains a familiar smile as Amergin speaks. "There's nothing I'd like to do more, friend."
"This means we're going home." Aoife told Padraic, Fintan, and Braedan. "I have to say, I'm looking foreword to it." She sighed
Amergin leads them all back to the Druid's Altar. On the way, the old druid is mindful to spend some time speaking to each of them.
With Brother O'Maille, he discusses God, faith, religion, and the church.
With Aoife, he learns about life in the village, and their people. She confides in him, and he encourages her to persevere against all odds, to fight, to endure, until she is free. Case in point, he regales her with tales of great battles won against all odds.
And so he speaks also to Fintan, Padraic, Braedan, and the Queen.
He pays particular attention to the Queen. She will need to leave everything behind: her life, her name, her very spirit.
"Aibell will not rest until she finds you," Amergin warns, before admitting to himself, "until she finds us all."
The weather is perfect as they reach the Druid's Altar in the strangely familiar woods. Padraic runs out and gathers mushrooms while Aoife gets a fire started with the help of O'Maille. Amergin sits with the Queen, and the brothers take a few steps away to make plans for the future.
Padraic returns, and they infuse the tea. Amergin hands Aoife a few herbs and berries, which she adds to her taste. She also prepares an infusion without the mushrooms for Amergin and the Queen. The funny old man winks.
Fintan and Braedan return arm in arm, never closer. "We're ready," Fintan decides.
The flames of the fire have calmed. They all sit inside the small, almost unbearably hot cave. Cup in hand, they drink the tea.
"You're not drinking your tea?" Amergin is the first to notice, looking at Braedan. Braedan shakes his head.
"I'm not going back. I am staying here with the Queen. Fintan has given me his blessing. It is decided."
They all look to Fintan, who simply nods. And everyone knows that Fintan always is honest, and never changes his mind.
Braedan turns to Padraic, Aoife, and Brother O'Maille: "We came here to save the Queen. Did we? We stopped her from cursing the children of the King of Lir. And so we imagine that now she is not damned, and all's well that ends well? She will need to live alone, outside of anything and anyone who could ever reveal her to Aibell. She is still cursed! I am staying behind because I have to help her. And because I love her."
To that, Amergin takes Braedan's cup, and drinks his tea. "There must be five for the ritual to work." The he smiles, and finishes the cup.
"What?!" Aoife gasped out just as she had finished her tea. "Braedan! You can't do this! You don't belong in this time, you could make matters worse like you did before! And what am I to tell you father and mother?! When he gets back from war and you're gone! When we go walk back home and your mother's asks where you are how am I to answer that will not make me sound like a lunatic?" She asked a she got close to him, handing her empty cup to Amergin as she passed by, though her hands where quickly filled with the front of Braedan's tunic. "She has a charm to protect her from this Aibell, you don't! What can you do about that huh?! Did you even think this through? Because you haven't really been thinking clearly as of late!" Aoife was shaking from anger now as her voice grew in tone.
"I'll take care of mother," Fintan reassures Aoife. "As for father..."
"Say that I died in battle. Mother won't care, and father will be proud," Braedan suggests. "I have no choice," he reiterates. "I have never been more convinced that this is my path, my destiny."
"And so mine seems to be to travel to your time," Amergin states plainly. "It is decided already. It is time for you all to say goodbye to your kinsmen."
"But... I..." Aoife hands, still shaking, dropped from Braedan's tunic. Her face like carved stone as she forced herself to hold back tears though if they where from sadness or anger one couldn't tell. "Try not to be a fool." She told him, voice cracking a bit. "And be safe." then she hugged him tightly before backing up and rejoining the others. She looked to Aoife as she said "Take care of him. For all his wisdom, he can be a fool some times."
Ó Máille's initial reaction is not one of surprise, but of mild annoyance. As the others speak, his attitude lightens. He finally speaks after the druid drinks his tea. "I understand your position. I will value our time together the rest of my days. May you make many more happy memories in your future." The young priest sees Aoife's pain as she says good bye and moves to reach an arm around her shoulder. He speaks once more to Braedan and the Queen. "God bless you."
Padraic also says goodbye, and the brothers embrace. Then, they all move to the cold pool, to refresh themselves and more importantly, to change the subject. Braedan and the queen both blushed when first faced with their nudity, but already they seem more comfortable. So does everyone else.
They return to the cave, and drink more tea. The heat is intense, and soon enough they all have barely the strength to sit up. One by one, they fall into a deep slumber...
Fintan, Aoife, Brother O'Maille, Padraic and old Amergin awaken in the morning, in the cave. The fire has died and when Padraic peeks outside, he confirms that this is the forest that he knows, as it was when they first embarked on this strange, magical, and admittedly troubling spirit quest.
It's good to be home.
They all dress. Amergin dons Braedan's clothes, and then makes a prayer in the old tongue of the Druids. "The spirits are quiet," he remarks, both surprised and somewhat concerned. He offers another prayer, and again nothing happens.
Pained and saddened, he pales and goes quiet. He seems suddenly burdened by the weight of his years. The power that gave him preternatural health and vitality has suddenly faded, leaving behind an ancient and fragile shell.
It is a beautiful day, and they are all happy and eager to get home.
After a short walk North from Burren Forest, Fintan, Aoife, Brother O’Maille, Padraic, and old Amergin arrive in Largay. Even from afar, it is plain to see that something is amiss. The village is deathly quiet. There are no children playing hide and seek between the mud houses, no women running after them, and no warriors in sight.
Fearing the worst, the heroes approach carefully. The village seems entirely abandoned. Fintan runs into his home. He finds it empty, and anything of any value at all has been taken.
”Over there!” Brother O’Maille shouts, pointing to movement near the church, not far away. He rushes forth, and the others follow. At the church, they find the women of the village silently digging graves, and the frightened children sitting quietly inside.
It is a grim, sad scene.
”Where were you?” Father O’Maille accuses them harshly.
Fintan is at a loss for words.
"I was there. You're father commanded that you stay and protect the village," the usually soft-spoken and affable priest continues, furious.
Fintan falls to his knees. It's all too much. Unable to hold back his tears, the strong man sobs. Then, a familiar rage building up inside his heart, he begins to claw at the ground with his bare hands.
Aoife steps up and places a hand on Fintan's shoulder. "Fintan. Fintan you need to calm down." She said softly as she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. She soon let go and looked to the Father. "What happened?" She asked, though even as she did she looked over to the graves being dug and tried to get come account on who had been killed and who still remained.
Fintan looks up to Aoife with tears in his eyes. "This is my fault," he sobs. And he isn't entirely wrong.
"It was Sean Quinn and about thirty warriors from Boho. They raided the village yesterday, at the end of the day," Father O'Maille explains. "They killed all but one of our men. And they took the Queen hostage."
"Father!" Ó Máille pleads. "I am to blame." Terror and guilt wrack the man's face as he speaks. "The Lord gave me a vision. I thought I did what He instructed, but I - I was wrong?" The young priest stares at his hands as he falls to his knees. What did he do wrong? Was this not God's plan? Was God angry with him? Was God angry with the people of Largay? Was he angry with God?
The tired, aging priest softens: "Your vision was a gift from God, and it was your path to listen to His call. But... His wisdom is unfathomable, my son. Perhaps this all is God's will?"
Brother O'Maille has never seen his father so full of doubt.
"The Queen tried to convince the Quinn boy to let them live, but... He took pleasure in killing them! He tortured them!"
Father O'Maille crosses himself. Then, he realizes that one of them is missing. "Where is Breadan?"
"No Fintan it isn't." Aoife said softly as gently ran her hand up and down his back to calm him.
"Sean Quinn. Right... I'm slicing open his throat." Aoife stated as she moved away from Fintan. "Padraic, do you think you could follow them?" She asked. "Track them down? If we get moving now we maybe able to catch up to the by night fall."
When asked about Braedan Aoife looked down some what shamefully. "The quest... claimed him." She said.
Father O'Maille crosses himself, truly saddened by the news of Braedan's death. He turns to his son: "was he given proper rites to enter the Kingdom of Heaven?
Brother O'Maille hesitates to respond with lies.
Padraic answers Aoife: "I can track them. They left this morning?"
Father O'Maille turns away from his son, and nods.
"Then we may yet catch up to them," Padraic continues. "But they are many, and we are few. We'll have to find a way to split their forces, or distract them. And to be clear: is our goal to kill Sean Quinn, or to save the Queen?"
"Your son did what was needed Father, you should be proud." Aoife stated so that the Brother wouldn't have to lie.
"Honestly, I don't give a s!#* about that... woman." Aoife said with a sigh as she pinched her bridge of her nose between her eyes as she decided not to call the woman something else rather crude. "But she's Fintan's mother and the King's wife. So if she's still alive... I guess we'll bring her back. Though if Sean has as little patients as I believe he does, she's likely caused her own death by now." She answered as she shifted to crossing her arms. "How about this, you get us to them, we wait for cover of night before going in. You go get the Queen and I'll got for Sean Quinn's throat?"
The young priest hesitates long enough for Aoife to interject, only nodding in agreement. After Padraic lays out his plan, Ó Máille addresses his father. "I - Do you you need help here? I think think I need to go with Padraic. This all happened as a result of my actions. I need to do everything in my power to make this right." He hesitates again, breaking eye contact. "As right as it can be."
Father O'Maille looks at his son with a mix of pride and despair. "Go. We'll be fine. There is nothing left here to take. Do what you must, to make this right. Save the Queen."
Then, almost as an afterthought, Father O'Maille notices Amergin who is standing by a nearby tree. The impossibly old man seems very frail and tired, and the Father takes pity on him. "I do not know who you are or from where you come, but you are welcome. Come into the church, my friend. Sit and pray. The Holy Spirit will grant you some comfort in this, our darkest hour."
The old Father O'Maille leads the even older Amergin into the church, leaving Brother O'Maille and his companions to prepare to leave Largay once again.
"You sure about this Brother?" Aoife asked as she raised an eyebrow. "This will end in blood. There is no way around that." She informed him as she shifted to cross her arms.
The young priest stares at Aoife for a moment that, to him, feels like an eternity. He quotes scripture. "If our God is with us, then who shall stand against us? For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.". A single tear betrays Ó Máille's immense fear as it runs across the premature lines on his face.
While Padraic hastily prepares for the journey to come, gathering what gear and supplies can be spared, Fintan McGovern, the slave girl Aoife, and Brother Ó'Máille look upon the sad scene with both fury and despair.
And so, blood feuds endure as one man's vengeance feeds another's quest for retribution.
"We would be honoured to have you at our side," Fintan answers.
Just then, some of the women who were tending to the dead scream: "he's alive!"
"You sure that is such a good idea?" Aoife asked as she crosses her arms. "We maybe moving thought the whole night and you're exhausted."
When she heard the scream however, she stopped any more conversation and made her way over to where she heard the scream.
"Få dine blodige hænder af mig!"
The Dane is a mountain of a man, standing well over six feet tall and build like a stone wall. He has thick corded muscles, hair over most of his body, and a partially braided wild mane and beard; 'grizzly bear' comes to mind when looking at him. He has a blue tattoo over his right eye that depicts a large claw scar, however it's partially obscured by gore. Maybe the blood of somebody else, but quite possibly his own judging numerous wounds across his chest and back, and the gaping cut yawning open on his shoulder.
He wades his way through a pile of corpses as he pushes the offered hands aside, swearing in Danish and keeping his limp arm held to his side. As he clears the bodies he reaches back, taking a great bloody greataxe from the pile and dragging it after him. In fact he looks like a walking armory, axes and spears and daggers bristling on his belt and back.
The towering Dane sees the group of living people, looking at them briefly and clenching his injured arm before narrowing his eyes and calling out to them, switching to Irish. "Oi! Whose side did you fight for!?"
"Shouldn't that be a question we're asking you?" Aoife asked as she stepped up. "We where not here for the battle, but we serve King Coffey McGovern." She answered.
A relatively feeble man steps out from behind Aoife as the large man approaches. "My, you're in awful shape. Let me have a look, eh?" His appearance is perplexing, to say the least. His voice carries with it the naivety of youth, yet his face is marked with wrinkles and his expression is one of patience and compassion. His attire marks him as a member of the faith.
Thorun looks down at the small but toned woman with blades at her belt. Fast, most likely. Faster than me, even if I wasn't injured. I hate the fast ones. The giant Dane raises his brows at the name of their liege, then turns to look at the sea of corpses. The warrior seems to crumple all at once, as if the mess he clawed out of has just become a reality to him. "Is it a curse or a blessing that I was not sent to Valhalla today?"
Thorun watches the feeble man approach, not moving as he sees the attire. He grunts and takes a knee, allowing the priest to see all his wounds. He has done this song and dance enough times, with enough priests, in enough battles, that it's almost routine for him. "What is your name, priest?"
He sighs, turning back to the woman. "I am with the McKiernan's, although I am with whoever raises a blade against the Boho or Dermot MacMurrough." He looks over the rest of the group, eyes resting on Kassidy. He takes a deep inhale. "Kassidy! It's good to see you alive boy!" He gives a brief grin before looking back over the rest of those gathered. "So you serve McGovern. What does that mean you will do now?"
"It means I'm going to go slice open Sean Quinn's throat." Aoife stated. "Then his sister's, and anyone else who carries the Quinn name. I'm going to ensure this won't ever happen again. We showed him mercy and he does this. Mercy is now withheld. Also if she's still alive bring the Queen back." She said, shrugging at the last bit as if to say, 'if it's on the way sure why not.'
The young man responds to Thorun as he tends to his wounds. "Ó Máille, friend. Though you may call me Brother if you wish. Many do, as my father is head priest in these parts."
At Aoife's words, Ó Máille sighs quietly before speaking. "I don't want anymore killing, but - I, well, vengeance is the Lord's, but perhaps we are the instrument He wishes to use." He sheepishly returns to work after speaking his piece.
Thorun nods to the priest. "Aye. Brother it is. And to me it looks like you doing the opposite of killing. Gods work and all that."
Thorun looks to the woman, then to Kassidy. "Well than I'd join you, if you'd have me. I got similar debts to settle with those bastards." He grunts, offering his good hand. "Thorun Madsen." He says, expelling any last doubts that he is anything but a full-blooded Dane.
Aoife took Thorun's hand as she returned his greeting. "Aoife FitzStephen." She told him, bringing up her mother's Welsh name.
"Aoife..." Thorun's hand goes limp, the big paw of flesh hanging loose as he gazes right into the woman's eyes for a brief flash. But just as quickly he grips her hand back with great strength and a nod. "Aoife it is. Aoife and Brother O'Mailley. And the rest of you lot?"
"Yeah I know, name doesn't really fit. Guess it was just my mother's wish it would." Aoife said with a shrug. "Oh, this is Padraic Ó Cinnéide, and Fintan McGovern, the King's eldest."
"We'll need all the help we can get," Fintan states plainly. The powerful warrior is a man of few words, and truth be told somewhat dim, but his heart is true and his is well-loved by his people.
"We should get going quickly if we want to catch up to the warriors of Boho," Padraic intervenes. The Ocaire is fearless, and eager to avenge the death of his kinsmen.
Just then, Amergin and Father O'Maille arrive, having heard the ruckus around Thorun rising from the dead. The elder moves slowly, and his eyesight is not what it was, but he remains good counsel.
"If you go now with the intent to catch up to them before they arrive in Boho, you will be exhausted when battles is met," Amergin warns. "Do you have a plan? You are outnumbered, and they will likely be expecting you. What do you know of Sean Quinn? And what about the King of Boho?"
"Sean Quinn is vicious and able, but none too bright," Fintan reminds them all, oblivious to the irony of his calling the kettle black.
"But his sister is as clever as her father was," Father O'Maille warns.
"I wish my brother was here," Fintan complains sadly. "He would know what to do."
Thorun nods to Padraic, and raises an eyebrow at Fintan. "Aye, that he is. Padraic and Fintant than." He looks over at his shoulder. "So where is our heading?"
"Boho. It is at most a half day North East," Padraic explains."If we move with haste, we might catch up to them before they get there. But we might not, and as Amergin says, we'll be fatigued and outnumbered..."
"They've no reason to expect us." Aoife pointed out. "At Sean won't. He's believed he's killed all the men here who can lift a blade and as Fintan said, he's none to bright. Likely thinks we're with the army and won't return till they do." Aoife stated as she crosses her arms. "No, the element of surprise is still on our side... If we can't catch them on the road than maybe we can catch them at Boho. Though... Sean had a wounded leg and I doubt it has fully healed, that might slow them down."
Thorun looks over at his shoulder with a grunt. "With haste, the man says. How's it look?"
"We got enough horses? Might be a hard fight when we catch up to them, but it'll be a harder fight if we don't." He nods to Aoife. "Surprise is worth a lot. We can sneak up on them." The walking mountain says.
Ó Máille looks to his compatriots, old and new alike, with an air of uncertainty. "Fintan is right, Braedan would have a plan already organized by this point. I'm afraid tactical strategy is beyond my capabilities."
He turns back to Thorun, resting his hands on the man's wounds and closing his eyes and he begins to pray softly.
As the cuts across the large man's body seal themselves, Ó Máille offers a knowing smile. "The Lord needs your strength, friend."
Thorun rolls his shoulder with a nod. "Happy to lend my strength in return for that." After a moment Thorun takes a look at his shoulder, eyes going wide. "Af Odins skæg...you are touched by the gods, Brother." He stretches his shoulder with a grin. "Aye, I'm in the right place."
He looks around at the group and frowns. "Only have the one horse? We could use a lot more. I wonder if any of the McKiernan's horses survived the battle."