Nara curtsied respectfully to the Clan Chieftain. “We’re so pleased to be here, my Lady.”
Elphame smiled. “I’m pleased to add a Healer and another young Huntress to our ranks.”
Nara frowned up at her young charge. “This is one Huntress who has done enough riding for today.”
“I think we all have,” Brighid said under her breath as she helped Liam slide reluctantly from her back.
“You are absolutely right, Brighid,” Elphame said. She clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of the crowd. “Supper is laid. Let us retire to the castle and our cooks’ excellent fare.”
The children responded with a jubilant shout, and soon they were following Clan MacCallan through the wide open gates of their castle. Elphame stood beside Brighid, watching as the last of the wagons pulled within the castle walls.
“Lochlan told me how many children there were. We’ve been preparing and planning for them. But to see them…all of them…well, it’s much different than talk,” Elphame said.
Brighid snorted. “At least he prepared you.”
Elphame grinned at her friend and then hugged her warmly. “I have missed your honest tongue, Brighid.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
With a sigh of relief Brighid stretched and rolled her neck, feeling the tight knots in her shoulders relax. Stepping carefully so that her hooves made as little noise as possible, she walked from the now empty Main Courtyard, through the open doors of the inner walls. Goddess be praised, she was finally alone! And the children, all seventy of them, including her precocious apprentice, were tucked snugly in the newly restored warriors’ barracks. Dinner had been an exhausting mixture of chaos and control, and Brighid thought she would probably be eternally grateful for the women of Clan MacCallan. They’d spread out amongst the children and hadn’t even seemed to mind the endless chattering and ceaseless questioning. Actually, Brighid mused silently, there had been a lot of laughter and very little openmouthed staring or suspicious looks. Of course that only made sense. Unlike the warriors of Guardian Castle, Clan MacCallan had had more than two complete cycles of the moon to prepare for the arrival of the New Fomorians.
And then there was Lochlan, the Chieftain’s chosen mate. He was a noble example of his people. She had been wrong to mistrust him, Brighid realized that now. Obviously the majority of Clan MacCallan had not been so reticent in accepting him. Brighid shook her head. Through the hybrid children, she had come to accept the goodness within the New Fomorians, and she was able to see Lochlan with new eyes.
But it wasn’t only the New Fomorians she saw differently. A part of her had begun to stir…to beckon. She didn’t want to think about it, much less admit it, but she was no coward. It was her nature to face things head-on. She was changing. Now that she was home, back to the one place in the world she felt most accepted, most secure, the difference within her was undeniable.
It intrigued her almost as much as it worried her.
The outer walls of MacCallan Castle loomed suddenly before her, and she quickly reoriented her thoughts, smiling at the newly constructed sentry walk that ran along the inside of the smooth stone walls. At Elphame’s insistence, the wide staircase and high steps had been built to specifications large enough to accommodate a centaur’s added bulk. Centaur friendly-that definitely described MacCallan Castle. Brighid wondered briefly if visiting a castle such as MacCallan, where centaurs were not only respected because of their hunting skills, but were truly accepted as a part of the Clan, a part of the Chieftain’s family, would change her herd’s isolationist views?
Probably not. The Dhianna Herd kept to itself, ferociously proud that they did not deign to mingle with humans. One visit to MacCallan Castle would not change what had been imprinted within them for…
How long had it been? With a start Brighid realized that the last time the Dhianna Herd had left the Centaur Plains for more than brief trading must have been during the Fomorian War, and that had ended disastrously for the herd. More than half of the centaur warriors who had fought in the great battle at the Temple of the Muse had been butchered. Many others had been horribly wounded and had limped back to the plains vowing never to leave again.
She was the first of her herd to choose to leave the Centaur Plains in more than one hundred years. By the Goddess, it was a daunting thought!
“Well met, Brighid!” The sentry’s voice echoed down from the archer’s post.
Brighid patted the banister of the wide staircase, nodded her head and grunted as if she had been standing there studying the workmanship and not standing there lost in depressing thoughts of the Dhianna Herd. Shaking off the shadows of the past, she climbed up to the archer’s post, and returned the sentry’s formal salute.
“We’re pleased to have you home, Huntress.”
“It’s good to be home.” She smiled a greeting and then covered the short distance to the edge of the wall. “Nice night,” she said, looking out on the dark, silent forest, and up at the cloudless sky that was alight with countless stars.
“It’s been a dry spring. That’s why we’ve been able to complete so much work on the castle.” The sentry chuckled. “Of course Wynne and the rest of the cooks are already complaining that we’re going to be hauling water for her gardens if we don’t get rain soon, but the weather suits me just fine-even under the threat of water hauling.”
Brighid smiled absently. Her attention had been caught by a ring of torches near the forest tree line. The sentry followed her gaze.
“Brenna’s tomb.” His voice sobered.
Brighid grunted and nodded her head, remembering. “The monument has been completed.”
“Yes, just three nights ago the permanent torches were lit for the first time. Now every evening they’re lit. Every dawn they’re extinguished.”
“Three nights ago?” Brighid’s stomach tightened. Three nights ago Brenna had visited her dream. What was it the little spirit said? That she’d been compelled to visit that night? “How far does the walk extend?” she asked the sentry abruptly.
“It’s been completed more than halfway around the castle wall.” He gestured to their right. “Go ahead and see for yourself. There are torches posted throughout.” He grinned. “No need to worry about tumbling off, Huntress.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” she muttered, wished the sentry a good evening, and walked around the sturdy wooden walkway, annoyed that it seemed to be common knowledge that she disliked heights. At the next archer’s turnout, she moved onto the balcony and leaned her forearms against the smooth stone balustrade. From there she had a clear view of Brenna’s tomb. A simple, elegant structure had been erected over it-a domed roof standing on four columns. Into each of the columns had been placed carved sconces from which torches blazed, illuminating the large marble sarcophagus and spreading gentle fingers of light over the shape of Brenna’s effigy.
“I wonder if she likes it,” Elphame asked softly as she stepped from the shadows.
Brighid considered it a reflection of how many times Ciara had materialized soundlessly beside her over the past several days that she didn’t jump out of her skin-or fall from the balcony. She did close her eyes briefly and take a deep breath to still the pounding of her heart.
“El, make some kind of sound, would you?”
She squeezed in beside the Huntress. “Did I scare you?”
The Huntress scooted over so that her friend had more room and gave her a disgruntled look.
Elphame grinned. “Sorry.”
Then they both gazed out at the tomb.
“It looks peaceful, even from here,” Brighid said.
“It’s not quite finished. I’ve begun to look for an artist to paint the ceiling with the Healer’s Knot. And I’d like to expand the blue wildflowers out farther and have them blanket that part of the castle grounds. Cu said they were her favorite flower.”