As involved as I was with the dying woman, I could see that Quince and Persimmon had quickly gone around to all the women, each by now lying on a blanket near the fire. Both women availed themselves of the cauldrons of gruit, and I heard them telling my companions how to administer it.

We had a.s.sembled a large store of blankets and linen cloths, and I pulled one over the body of my patient. "There, my darling," I murmured, as though she could hear and understand. "You are no longer exposed to the cruel eyes of men."

Her eyes opened and seemed to look at me. They were large and gray toned, very pretty, but they seemed glazed in either fear or incomprehension. Her face seemed smooth, as though she were very young, but there was no way to judge her true age. It could have been fourteen or forty.

Liam leaned and laid another woman next to the one I tended. "She needs ye, too, Cat." I saw right away that the next woman was not near death. But she was stiff with fear, and her eyes rolled in terror. I thought Liam had not understood that she probably was recoiling from him-from his maleness, as though she could not distinguish him from one of her brutal defilers.

"Shush, shush," I crooned, and I smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

Brindl's urgent voice was in my ear. "Cay, tell me which preparation is for wrapping wounds and how to do it."

"If you will watch these two," I said, "I will do it. Which one?"

She gestured to a woman lying some four or five feet away, covered with a piece of linen cloth, and I hurried to examine her. I peeled back the cloth and saw fresh blood on her thighs, as though a recent wound had opened. I ran to the fire with a length of linen, and I began to soak it in my largest cauldron. Soon the cloth was permeated with the dark brown liquid, and I rushed back to the bleeding woman.

Lifting her left leg, I soaked her exposed groin with the cloth. I tore a thin piece from another strip and bound the dressing loosely, so as not to cause more bleeding. As I worked I could not help cursing and muttering, willing G.o.d's own vengeance on the heads of those who had despoiled and hurt these precious souls.

At last, I paused and looked around at the scene before me. Every one of my friends was kneeling with a fallen woman, and all of them were wound dressing, or giving gruit, or applying healing paste. I counted the victims-yes, there were fifteen of them, as Silver Weaver had reported to us. And of them, only the one Liam had first carried seemed to be on the thin edge of living or dying.

I walked to where Quince and Persimmon stood, conferring with each other. "I think we may begin to prepare supper," Quince told me. "The women may rest or sleep while we eat, and then we can attempt to feed them, as much food as they will accept."

"Yes, the delicate fish that na Cnoic have netted will be fine fare for them-and for us, too." Persimmon took a last look around and then put one arm around her sister, and one around me. "Well done, ladies. Let us prepare supper."

Then the three of us moved in three different directions to make it happen.

Hours later, Liam and I sat side by side near the fire. We had no blanket to draw around ourselves, and so we stretched our hands to the flames, pretending to be warmed. "Darling, try to sleep," I told him. "For tomorrow you must return."

"Yes," he said. "I...bring back men I should leave on the hard rocks."

Again, I was wise enough to say nothing. Liam would have to work it out in his own mind, how his adamantine will had decided the men's fate. He himself had decreed that they were to live, perhaps even to be redeemed by the grace of G.o.d. I knew that Father Patrick's solution would be the right one and that it would finally remove the burden of guilt that Liam now felt.

"Lay back, dear love. I promise you, it will all seem better in the morning. Tell me a bit about your adventure today, and I will lie here next to you."

"T go maith, a chuisle." He lay on his back, and tonight the canopy of stars blazed overhead as if reminding us that heaven was indeed close and comforting.

"The sea, very wild. The landing, close to giant rocks. I think about the great rock where we found me uncle Owen, where the cleansing rivers ran." Liam was thinking back a few months ago when we tracked Owen Sweeney to the site near Claudy, home of giant rocks that seemed to be a lone king surveying the valley below with his protective circle of sentinels.

I remembered stretching out my hand and feeling the tallest rock as though a heart may have been beating below its moss-streaked surface. And I thought about Luke's story today, the jutting rocks that still reared from the sea on the beach of Tory Island, the last king and his surrounding warriors.

"We...so fortunate to have the marines an' the big Saxons. They steer the little boats like...like a child's plaything. They learn how to do it when ye came to eire, long time ago. In little boats wi' red sails, like the sign of me father come back to me..."

His voice trailed off, and I realized that he was asleep, through sheer exhaustion or because of the emotional struggle he had been through today.

I lay next to him, facing the sea, looking skyward for the Great Elk that my armsman had once told me about, and the Lesser Elk, his son, who stalked the northern sky. I lay listening for any sound of discomfort from the women who lay near me and my friends, under the warmth of blankets. I heard only rhythmic breathing, and soon I, too, was asleep, my head cushioned on Liam's chest.

Once during the night I rose and went to Gray-Eyes. I put my hand on her shrunken chest and felt her heart, now beating with a strong, even rhythm. I pulled the blanket close around her and returned to my husband, my own heartbeat.

Chapter 27:.

The Taking of Tory Our stalwart rescuers who had returned with the women had left six men behind on the rugged island, and none of them small in stature-Flann, Roe, Archer, and three Glaed Keepers. They were charged with standing guard over their twelve prisoners until the rest of the party returned with the currachs.

The land rats who had been forced to stay on the sh.o.r.e-including myself-were burning to learn the details of yesterday's rescue and the taking of prisoners. Those who had returned early this morning would be almost at the island by now, I thought-Liam and Thom, the remaining nine marines, and three Glaed Keepers. I was satisfied to know that Klaus and Konrad, my twin mountains, had been chosen to bring back prisoners, so that they, too, could savor a taste of adventure.

When they returned later this afternoon, we could be sure that one or more of them would have a merry tale for us around the fire tonight. We all needed that tale, for it would be the climax of our adventure, the resolution we all ached to enjoy.

Those of us who remained today were tenderly caring for the wounded women. Many of the former captives were sitting by now, slowly eating or being washed or combed by a gentle hand. I was sitting cross-legged next to Gray-Eyes, who was still lying on her back. I was waiting for her to raise her head again to ask for another sip of healing potion.

She had not once tried to speak, and I had not pressed her. I was gratified by her smallest sign of progress-a raising of her brows, a quirk of her mouth, a slight lifting of her head-that told me her strength was returning.

The other woman that Liam had laid next to her yesterday, the one who had quailed from his strong arms, was already sitting, taming her own matted hair with my comb. She had told me that she and several of the others were all from the same small village, all seized the same day by men covered in blue markings.

"What is your name?" I asked her.

"I am called Windy by my family," she said shyly. "Although my given name is Windollin." I guessed her age at sixteen or seventeen.

"And is this your kinswoman?" I wanted to find out what I could about Gray-Eyes.

"No. She had already been taken when we were thrown into the little boat. She never did speak to any of us. I think she was already sick."

"What others are in your family?"

"No one here, thank G.o.d. They did not even consider my brothers or my parents. They-they pushed them to the ground, they began to kick them in the stomach-oh!" and she began to cry, her slender shoulders heaving as she covered her face.

"Shush, shush, child. You do not have to answer. Do not think about it. You are safe now."

I watched her for awhile as she tried to pull the comb through the tangles of her brown hair. Not wanting to upset her more, still I felt compelled to solve some of the mysteries surrounding these women.

"What is the name of your village?"

She recovered quickly from her tears as though willing herself to push the memory back into some dark recess of her mind. "We called it Rib Chester, part of a walled town on the river-the River Ribble. Close to the sea."

I thought I remembered the name from somewhere-perhaps Luke or the teacher James had once told me-it was part of the great Roman system of castra, or forts that extended throughout northern Britannia as protection from the Picts and other barbarian tribes. The location made sense, for the slave seekers would not want to venture more than few days' currach sailing from their own base. That meant their own home was probably Alba-Pictland, from her description of their blue-marked bodies.

"And how long have you been...imprisoned?"

She lowered her eyes, and again I saw the pain flit across her face. "It could be two months, or even three. We were taken at the first spring festival."

"Do you remember any-um, any other man apart from the pirates who may have come to your island? Perhaps to gaze upon the women?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "Once. But I do not remember much about him. He was a man."

I patted her arm rea.s.suringly. "That is all right, Windy. Just get better."

I saw Gray-Eyes trying to lift her head, and again I put the cup next to her lips with one hand, raising her head with the other. This time she drank two or three swallows, more than she had taken before. She opened her eyes and gazed at me, and I smiled down at her, feeling strangely triumphant.

When Brindl knelt next to me and my two wards, I told her in an undertone about my line of questioning with Windy. "I am keen to know, Brindie, if we may trace this vile man who keeps the slavers plying their trade-the one who rewards them with valuable coins for their victims. Will you ask your own wards, and spread the word to our friends to do the same? They do not have to answer our questions directly. I simply want to know who remembers what."

"I think I see your reasoning, Cay. Heaven knows I have seen your mind work often enough. I like what you are saying."

Making sure the two women were faring well, I rose and sought the small river that ran parallel to the high embankment where I liked to sit watching the sh.o.r.e. I did not expect Liam and the others back for several hours, so now I concentrated on washing myself in the little stream as best I could without removing my clothing. I sat afterward brushing my hair, even though in this place the wind tried to twist it into a wild dance. Persimmon walked to where I stood. "May I join you, Caylith?"

I smiled up at her, happy to see her. "Of course. Sit here by me, and tell me how you think the women are faring."

She obligingly sat and studied the little stream. "On one hand, I am happy, Cay. They are not quite as weak as I had feared. Most of them. I make an exception with the woman you are caring for. She seems to be on the edge."

"It is possible that she was sick even when she was captured. And yet she has gotten better in a very short time," I told her. "I think by tomorrow she may even be ready to eat solid food. But she still cannot sit up on her own."

"...And on the other hand," she said, as though to pick up her earlier thought, "I am concerned for the mental strength of several of them. I think the healing process may not be as rapid as we may hope, even though their bodies may seem to heal quickly."

"We must show them that they are safe and that they are loved," I told her. I realized as I said it that my fists were clenched, and my voice had become blurred with emotion. "Ah, I am sorry, Simmi. I do not mean to sound-"

"To sound as though you care too much? Cay, that is why we love you so much. Never stop caring. We are all fortunate to have you."

I hurried to change the subject.

"I have caught a whiff of something very foul, Persimmon. And that is the stench of the man who attends our own church, who pays for slaves. I think some of the women may have seen him, just like my mother did."

I told her what I had said to Brindl, and she readily agreed. "If there is a way to find and trap that man, I want to be part of it. I myself will talk to every woman."

Once again, as I had yesterday, I held my hand out to her. We clasped hands as though making a solemn pact. "What do you think, Simmi, about, ah, hiding the prisoners when they are brought back? I mean far from the eyes of our women."

"I agree. When we meet the men at the currachs, let us have a holding place already selected and a fire pit started. For they will have to be fed somehow, even though I am inclined to let them feel the same pangs suffered by their captives."

"They will never feel the same, my friend," I told her. "Unless we can find a race of giant women who may hold their noses in disgust while they ravage their ugly b.u.t.ts with a-a battering ram, and starve them besides."

She laughed at my image of fair retribution. "The Lord will provide, Cay. The Lord will provide. And not with Amazons."

When our companions returned late that day, kicking and pushing their bound prisoners ahead of them through the rocks, a group of us had already prepared a kind of holding area for them, far from our fire haven, yet still close enough to the stream that our comrades could drink and bathe. The area was strewn with large boulders and enough smaller rocks that the slave traders could be tied securely without a tree in sight. The fire pit we had built, like the large one, was sheltered from the incessant wind.

As soon as I greeted Liam, I saw that his former vigor and good humor had largely returned. It was as though his handling of the bound man in front of him had been a kind of release of his pent-up anger and guilt. "I will join ye at the fire haven, love," he had told me. "As soon as our prisoners are well tended."

The man he pushed ahead of him could have been one of my own Saxons, if I were to judge merely by size and fairness of skin. The style of hair and beard, too, was similar to that favored by the Glaed Keepers-long beard and drooping mustaches that blended into the chin hair.

But the resemblance ended there. This man wore a menacing scowl, and I could see rotted teeth as he opened his mouth, spitting curses at Liam from beard hair that was snarled and matted. His skin was somewhat scabby and not at all clean. I had guessed correctly when I told Persimmon that anyone approaching these brutes needed to hold their nose in disgust.

I wondered again at the lack of tattoos or other markings on the skin of any of these men. The girl Windy, and even my own mother, had mentioned "blue skin." That was a mystery I would soon unravel, I thought, as I watched the returning heroes goad and push their prisoners far from the sight of their previous victims.

Leaving a four-Saxon guard, the returning men and the rest of the travelers sat around a giant fire that evening. Even the captive women gathered to share supper with us, and I saw a sign here and there of a smile, a returning touch.

I sat close to Liam, unable to keep from touching his face, his chest, his legs, as though to rea.s.sure myself that he was still whole, still the same confident, strong warrior who had left yesterday.

As if to rea.s.sure me, he touched me in return-my stomach, a light brush of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s-and I saw that his mouth held that small ironic twist that told me he was secretly amused. "Conas t t, a mo haisce?"

"We are fine," I told him, patting little Cuileann. "And we have missed you." I raised my face and he bent to me, tenderly kissing my lips.

"I want...your fullness," he murmured. I did not know what he meant, but I smiled. I would promise this man anything he asked for.

"Me friends!" I heard a loud, booming voice. "Who will tell the story? Who will speak of the taking of Tory?" It was Flann, crying out the time-honored exhortation for a story.

"Let it be you, Flann," I called. "Abair sceal!"

He looked around at his companions. "Very well, As long as those whose eyes saw where I could not, they will stand and tell what their own eyes saw."

"T go maith," said Thom somberly, and everyone laughed at his terse Gaelic.

"We landed with much churning of waves and grinding of paddles against the rocks," Flann began, and a hush settled down on the men and women a.s.sembled before the fire. I saw that the captive women, too, were straining forward, eager to hear every word-everyone except Gray-Eyes, who was not yet able to sit by herself. As if reading my mind, I saw Liam silently get up and go to her. He brought her to me, cradled in his arms, and I sat with her propped against my chest so that she could see and hear what Flann said.

I stroked her hair as Flann spoke, hoping that his words would not alarm her. His eyes reached out and read mine, and I thought I saw him give me a rea.s.suring nod before he took up his narrative again.

"I am shamed to say that in all me long life, I ha' never felt the joy of currach riding. But now I may say-let the fishermen take it, an' welcome to it! The marines and Saxons landed their crafts as though they were no more than a child's toy, an' we moored them in a nearby gully, lashed down wi' rocks.

"We followed the lead of Danger Walker, of Silver Weaver an' Black Knife, walking on our bellies, stopping often to raise our heads an' smell the air. We smelled only bird plops an' the sweetness of wet gra.s.s. No sentry was in sight, an' we made our way to the edge of the far cliff on the other side of the little island.

"The birds rose all around us, all a-flapping and crying, an' I looked over the edge of the cliff. I lay smelling the rocks and seeing the little huts spread below and figures of men walking here an' there.

"The lead marines signaled to those who would go in search of the enemy's currachs. Twelve men an' women slid away, part of the rocks an' the cliff face. They would meet the rest of us, thirteen strong, at the bottom, on the opposite side from us, an' together we would form a great two-clawed weapon to seize the slave traders."

He stopped and looked around. "Let us hear from those who were in that second wing of attack."

Akantha stood, eager to extend the story. "I will begin. My colleagues and I melted into the rock, and indeed we did become part of the cliff face. The rising sun shone directly on us, making us even harder to see. Below, the half-naked freebooters were walking about as though with no purpose. Perhaps they were finishing their morning meal or indeed taking a p.i.s.s. Who knows? But we could see that they were mindless of danger-unless they had left a more-alert group to guard their currachs.

"When at last we reached the bottom of the cliff, we were perhaps fifty or sixty feet from their dwellings. We slipped from behind one rock to the next, gradually working our way toward the sound of the ocean. I remember looking back at the opposite cliff face, seeking our comrades, seeing nothing but birds landing and rising again, the natural rhythm of a rainless, windy morning."

She raised her eyes to the sky, as if seeing herself back on Tory at that moment. "Thankfully, the d.a.m.ned birds were squawking at regular intervals, going about their business of meal hunting and p.o.o.ping. Our own activities meant nothing to them, and we spread out, looking for hidden currachs." She sought out one of her colleagues from the crowd and motioned to him. "Falc, tell us what happened next."

Falcon rose slowly to his feet, and then he began to pace in a small circle before the fire. "I happened to be the one who first sighted the little craft, and that is why I tell this part of the tale. I signaled my comrades, and we approached cautiously.

"No guard had been posted, and so we squatted around looking at them-four well-built vessels, their sails furled, moored like ours in a ravine not far from the edge of the water. The paddles were tied to the inside, and it took us only minutes to untie them and carry them thirty or so feet away. We heaped rocks over them so that none but we would easily find them.

"When we made our way back to our spot behind the rocks, looking at the cl.u.s.ter of little buildings, I raised my hand until I saw each of my friends nod their heads. And then I called out as we had planned. Truly a lovesick corn crake, his voice blending with the cries of herring gulls and buntings."

"Aye, we heard ye loud an' clear, lad," said Flann, grinning. "An' speaking for meself, that sound was enough to set me heart to rattling in me chest. We all looked to our marine leaders, and as soon as we saw them draw their weapons, me own long knife was in me hand, an' I crouched, ready for the rush forward. Danger Walker, pick up the story, if ye please."

Thom rose then, his shyness forgotten as he recalled yesterday's events. "We had already decided-as soon as Falcon's signal sounded, we would rush forward, all of us at once, and disarm the enemy as best we could without dealing a mortal blow. We would have dealt with them in a few minutes if we had been allowed to skewer their vile throats, but we were resolved to be gentle as their very mothers.

"With that tenderness in mind, we each found a man to attack, and we ran, silent as the wind, each of us locked into a target.

"My quarry was not twice my size, but he seemed that large. I saw his eyes widen in disbelief as I ran up to him, and I could almost read their expression, This little man will be an easy kill. He raised one fist to deal me a blow, but my spatha was already at his throat. 'Kneel, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d, or you are a dead man.' I had forgotten that he would not understand a word of what I said. But yes, he understood me well enough."