Thom flushed a bit at his own rough language, but he continued "The brutes were large, but their very size rendered them somewhat clumsy and slow to act. Before they could run inside for their own weapons, they were on the ground, and we were tying them hand and foot."

Flann spoke again. "We left six guards over twelve trussed men. They were sorely outmanned, for we could ha' left one man instead of six. And yet we did not want to overload the currachs, for we still had to gather the women an' somehow get them to the currachs. Someone-I think it was Black Knife--had the wise idea that the marines should return to our hidden currachs and sail them to this part of the island. From where we stood, it was an easy descent to the sea. An' so we did."

Then it was Silver Weaver's turn to speak. "The tale is ended. The slave traders were taken, and they await the retribution of the Lord himself. The task ahead is clear-to heal and to cherish the women they held." His eyes, once clouded with the pain of what he had seen, seemed to clear somewhat, and I saw the beginnings of a small smile.

"Welcome, ladies. We dedicate ourselves to your health and your happiness. From this time forward, I speak for myself when I say come to me if you need anything. Anything at all. And I will see that you receive it."

Then all my friends-everyone except for me-rose and cheered, echoing his sentiment. I would have stood also, but Gray-Eyes, leaning back against my chest, was too precious for me to disturb. And so I merely sat there, stroking her hair, thinking of Mama.

Chapter 28:.

Tracks of a Bear That night, I lay with Liam on one side of me and Gray-Eyes and Windy on the other. The nearby fire crackled and rose to the clear sky overhead. We had found a large piece of clean linen, and we were using it not for warmth but for hiding our nakedness. I was tracing his mouth with my forefinger, delighting in his smooth skin and soft beard.

I kept my voice very low, for fear of waking the women. "Liam, what is Gaelic for 'gray eyes'?"

"An' that would be 'sile liath,'" he said.

"Soo-lah lee-ah. Very pretty, my love, like a song. I think I will call her Liath."

He caught my finger in his mouth and began to nuzzle and suck it in the way that sent little flames shooting through my stomach and thighs. "Yes," I said, turning into his warm body, "like a song. Like your mouth. Pg dom, oh, kiss me."

Our mouths met as though for the first time. Our kiss was slow and full of wonder. I touched him, I inhaled him, I tasted him as though discovering him all over again. "Do not leave me again Liam," I breathed in his ear, and I heard his soft laughter.

His arm encircling my waist, he gently pulled me as far away as possible from the sleeping women. "Shush, shush, Cat. Do not wake the others. But give me your little fox, your little cat. Come here, I want ye."

We deliberately made love as slowly as we could without reaching a climax too soon, putting off the final rush of pleasure. Liam kissed and sucked my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, stroking them as he kissed, delighting in their new, heavy ripeness. And then his mouth found my stomach, his lips and tongue exploring every inch. As he licked and nuzzled me, suddenly I felt a most odd sensation-like the flutter of a giant b.u.t.terfly-and I almost cried out. It was the child inside, clamoring to find room to grow.

At last Liam rolled me so that his groin was against my b.u.t.tocks, and we made love like young animals. When the tremors had ceased, he turned me back to face him, and we kissed again, long and lovingly. "Liam, the baby kicked," I whispered.

"He kicked? Let me listen. Let me feel it, too." He slid down again and laid his head on my distended belly, tickling it with his downy beard. I lay as still as possible, wondering if she would talk to Liam, too. And then I felt it again-a small but insistent flicker or quiver inside, and Liam lifted his head in wonder. "He speaks!" He lay his head back down, waiting for the next words from his child. And that is where he fell asleep.

The next several days were so filled with our care for the rescued women that they rolled by very quickly. I knew it would take us twice as long to return as it had taken us to travel here, and I was resigned to it. But now that the time had come, and I was busy making gruit and changing linens and feeding and bathing my wards, I found one day sliding into the next without my fretting about it at all. And every day as we traveled, I walked from one queen chair to another, watching the progress of our little group of travelers. Some of them were actually well enough to ride a packhorse, and a few of them rode two to a blanket, sitting and talking together.

I noticed that all of them-except for Gray-Eyes, our Liath-had lost the vacant, numbed look they had arrived with. It was as though they had been imbued with a new spirit, and I rejoiced to see it.

Liath lay on one of the special chairs. At first I was surprised that one of her horses was ridden by Silver Weaver, in tandem with another marine, and both men had soon learned to keep their horse's slow gait exactly the same. I walked along, leading Macha and reaching out one hand to stroke her hair as she rode, lying with her hands folded on her chest like an enchanted princess. Her eyes, as usual, were closed as though she were slumbering.

"Cay, she is better," said Weaver. "This morning, she tried to speak."

"Oh! That is wonderful. What was she trying to say?"

He shook his head, and I saw how the long blond hair fell around his face, almost like a light golden halo. "I know not. Perhaps her name. Give it time."

Now four days into our trip, she had begun to take in food, and her gaunt cheeks had started to fill out just a bit. I saw under the pallor of her skin that she had a flawless complexion, not unlike Weaver's, and that her mouth was large and well shaped. For the first time, I realized that here was a beautiful woman, made unsightly by sickness and mindless cruelty. I could not help thinking of what Owen had said about my mother-that she was "like a lily trodden into the roadside."

As I walked and talked with the freed women, I tried to sound them out about any man they might have seen who had visited the island. One of them, an older woman named Elain, was riding by herself on a slow-moving mare. I thought she might be about fifty years old, judging by the care lines and the streaks of gray in her dark brown hair. I liked the way her hairline started as a kind of peak, or triangle on her high forehead, and the lighter gray streaked backward over her darker hair.

I walked near her horse and called out, "Good morning! How are you feeling?"

"Well enough, miss, and I thank ye."

Her words held just an edge of an unfamiliar accent, similar to Wynn's Welsh, and I asked her about her name.

"Elain? Why, that means 'Fawn' in the language of my father's father. Too far back to know, never much asked."

"Are you also from Rib Chester, Elain?"

"Close by, miss. We call our land c.u.mbria. Full of lakes it is. A lovely spot." Her eyes seemed far away, and I hesitated to ask her about her family. Had she been taken with others, with perhaps her own family and friends? I quickly decided that no-if her family had been captives, she would be with them, not riding alone. Or she would be grieving their loss. I decided to wait until the shock of her recent past had worn off a bit.

"I, um, I am wondering about a stranger, a visitor who may have come to the island," I started, knowing that she had already been asked and loath to bring it up again.

"I have put my thought to it," she told me. "At first I could not remember that at all. But now, here I be, free under the blue skies for a few days, and my brain is coming back. Ie, I do remember such a man."

When I heard the word ie, like "yea," I felt a sudden excitement well up into my throat, and my heart began to thud inside my chest. "Tell me, Elain," I said. "Just give me your impressions."

"He was...large. Like the savages. But he had heavy, droopy jaws, with rolls of skin on his neck. He was dressed like-like any plain man, in a kind of long shirt. Boots, no belt."

"Those are good clues," I told her with an encouraging pat on her arm. "Can you tell me more?"

"He was there in our hut to look over the...the goods. I already knew that I was too old and my companion was too sick. They kept us apart from the others-like they knew they would not be rid of us so easy. I remember the man scowled and spat on the ground. The savage said something to him, and I thought he said, 'Curse us.' But no-it would not have been my own language. Those savages spoke only a guttural tongue I could not understand. So mayhap he said, 'Ursus,' or 'Pursus,' like a name."

"Like the Latin word for 'bear'? Can you remember?"

"Latin I know not," she said, tossing back her hair. "I speak my own tongue."

"You speak like a gifted orator, Elain. Your words may be the ones that bring him to justice."

"And truly?" she replied, smiling at last. "Then ye make me a happy woman."

"Tell me about your companion," I said. "Was she the lady lying on the blanket yonder?"

"Ie. So sick, I wondered often why she did not just turn her face to the wall and give up. That would ha' been better than lying in ropes, giving in to-what we all faced. I always tried to help her eat and help her-um, any way I could."

"Did you arrive together?"

"She was lying in the little boat when they threw me almost on top of her. Even then, she could not speak-or she did not want to, for she was sick and terrified, too. I think she came from c.u.mbria, like the rest of us. But maybe from the island. "

"The island?"

"We call it 'Howger,' but we sow our own fields, miss. I never ventured there."

"So she speaks our tongue, or perhaps Welsh," I said almost to myself.

"Young miss, I want to help, but hard to remember. And so tired. Could you ask later?"

I slowed my pace, waiting for Brother Jericho to catch up to me. I felt the excitement that always came with unraveling a mystery, and the next step was to talk with the monk. When he and I were walking and riding at the same speed, I looked up at him as he rode uneasily on the back of Clona. "Brother, how fare you?"

"Very well, Caylith. I see you have fire in your eyes. Speak."

"Oh! Well, I guess I will just say it right out. Do you know of a large man-a very large man-in our church who may call himself 'Ursus'? Or a word similar?"

"Ah, yes, I do. How could that man's name be on your lips? He is one of our most dedicated churchgoers, one who does not wish to show himself, in modesty of his own generosity."

"What kind of generosity, Jericho?"

"He has given of his wealth, in cattle and other livestock. He has given of his hired men, with hours of their work. He has given of himself, in prayer and praise giving. Truly a Christian worthy of the name."

"And if I told you his name was on the lips of one of the captive women? His name and his description?"

He looked at me with something close to alarm in his normally calm eyes. "If what you say is true, Caylith, if she speaks such words of condemnation, then she must swear it in a moot court. For he is an upstanding citizen of our bally, and he cannot stand accused without a fair hearing."

"Jericho, I hope what you say is not due to his wealth. That he has not bought himself a pious witness to his good name."

And for the first time ever, I saw anger in the monk's face, the righteous anger of being accused of simony, or dealing in pardons. "I thought we were friends, young lady," he said stiffly. "I see that you trust me not."

"And neither do you trust me, Jericho," I replied hotly. "For you sound as though I had made up this accusation. It came from the mouth of one of our rescued women. Did she invent such a name? She knows not a word of Latin, and she has no reason to lie. Perhaps you need to listen to her story."

I almost ran forward, pulling Macha's rein impatiently, wanting to shun Brother Jericho's sanctimonious att.i.tude. He had sorely disappointed me, and it would take me awhile, I knew, to cool my simmering anger. I walked for a while, letting the situation whirl about in my brain, trying to come up with ways of testing Elain's words. Brindl was walking about twenty feet in front of me, talking to one of the women on a queen chair, and I hurried to walk abreast of her.

"Um, Brindl, do you have a moment to speak?"

Soon we were walking together, our heads close like the coconspirators of our reckless youth, and Brindl was tremulous with excitement.

"...makes sense, Caylie! This man is not stupid. He would surely try to ingratiate himself with our clergy, using his wealth and influence. We must not blame the monk. He sees what stands before him-a modest man who offers up his wealth to the poor, like the scriptures tell us all to do."

"So how can we be sure, Brin?"

"Do you not see it? Do I have to tell you again, my friend? We have a spy in our midst who can discover the truth right away. All we need to do is send him ahead. By the time we get home, Thom will tell us his name, where he lives, his daily habits-everything we need to know to curse him or condone him."

"You would have Thom leave again? This mission may be more dangerous than the last, Brindl. For this man Ursus has much at stake and much to hide."

"Why do we not ask him?" she asked with a sad little smile. I could see that Brindl, in wanting to keep Thom happy, also had to stifle her own fears for his safety. And it would be this way from now on.

"Yes, and we will include Liam in our making of plans. I am still learning how to share danger with my husband, Brindie. I must not leave him out again-ever."

Later that evening, halfway home, Liam and I sat close to Thom and Brindl as we gathered around our comforting fire. Thom, of course, had been eager to leave right away.

"Black Knife and I will depart with the dawn," he told us, his arm around Brindl. "This is a mission for two men-one to watch while the other sleeps. We need to keep this man Ursus always in sight." He turned to Brindl. "We can be in Derry within two days. I expect you home in four days' time. I will be there, or I will find a way to leave word for you inside our teach."

I saw that Brindl said little, and I thought I knew why. She did not want to give away her hidden dread, her notion that each mission could be the last. Now she only nodded, slowly eating supper, while our companions' voices hummed and laughed around us.

Liam had listened to the revelations about the "ox-cart man," as I still thought of him. Mama had described him as being large as a very ox, but I had not pressed her for a better description, and now I wish I had. But I was certain that Mama's ox-man and Elain's Ursus were one and the same.

Tonight Liam did not repudiate me, even by a look, for running headlong again into danger. Now he simply put his hand out to Thom and said quietly, "I wish ye all good fortune, lad. 'Tis not an easy task, to track one who may be...bear, or worse."

Only then did I sense the fear that crouched somewhere deep inside him, his fear for me and his child.

"Thank you, Liam. But I know there is little to worry about." I did not know whether he said it to quiet Brindl's fears or his own. "When you all wake in the morning, I shall be gone. I wish you a safe trip, too. Brindl will get word to you as soon as possible."

He rose, and Brindl stood as he did. They walked together into the shadows.

The next morning, after an early start, I was leading Macha again near Liath's queen chair. "Weaver," I said, gazing up at his tall, slender form as he rode, being careful not to fall out of step with his companion Black Knife.

"Good morning, my friend," he said. His eyes briefly swept me and then back to the terrain ahead.

"I have named our lady 'Liath,' for her eyes," I told him as I smoothed her flaxen hair back from her face.

"Truly, Cay?" Now he was looking down at her with flashing eyes, and I suddenly knew that he was smitten with this beautiful, wounded woman.

"She is from a land called c.u.mbria and possibly an island called 'Howger,' close to the Sea of eire. If I ask Archer to talk with you, do you think you might puzzle it out together? He comes from that part of Britannia."

"Absolutely! Will you ask him to ride near us?"

"I will," I promised. I decided that Weaver, the trained spy, could unravel the mystery of Liath. If anyone could discover her ident.i.ty, it would be Silver Weaver.

I fell back, walking Macha carefully. Her own belly had begun to swell a little with NimbleFoot's seed, and I realized that I had one more delicate female to add to my list. I needed to make sure she ate well and rested more, and I resolved not to ride her at all. If I became tired, I would ask Liam to put me astride a packhorse.

"Blessings of the Sabbath, my friend." It was the voice of Brother Jericho behind me, and I turned to him gratefully.

He was walking, leading Clona by her reins, and I saw a certain halting slowness in his walk and a sadness in his wide, brown eyes. "Oh, Brother Jericho, thank you. I had forgotten today was the Sabbath, of course. I find myself in need of your blessing, for my heart is full of remorse."

"Why, Caylith?"

"For my harsh words to you, Jericho. I was wrong. It was not fair of me to speak those words to you. You are a warm and loving man who would never do-what I said. I am very sorry."

"I think we both spoke out of love, dear Caylith. I am not blind and deaf to your feelings about these defiled women. I know you want justice for them and for your mother. And it will come. The Lord will shower justice upon the wicked as well as the good. Will you please believe that?"

"Do you mind if Iah, if I hurry that justice along a bit, O Brother?"

I had never been able to hide anything from Jericho, who knew me by now better than most. I saw the fire return to his placid eyes. "What mischief are you planning?"

"No mischief, Jericho," I said truthfully. "I merely want to know for certain whether one of our good citizens may be wolf in disguise."

"Or a bear?" he asked with a small smile.

"I promise you-I will not accuse him publicly without steel-jawed proof."

"And I trust you, Caylith. I will ask no more questions. Let me speak a small blessing and move on." He put one hand lightly on my wind-tangled hair.