"Dearest Lord, show us the way, lead us with the clear light that flows from your purest divine heart. Shed that light now, we beseech you, before the path of your child Caylith. Show her a road bathed in the light of truth and understanding. Amen."

I slowed down and watched him move on. "Amen," I said at last to his retreating back. "Dear G.o.d, show me that road." In that moment, I did not even think of asking Father Patrick to speak on my behalf. The Lord alone would have to reveal the road, and I would have to proceed with care.

Chapter 29:.

For the Women Liam, Bunny, and I stood with Flann O'Connell near the lakesh.o.r.e. The wind, always with us, seemed much more subdued now that we were only a score of miles from home. And yet still it lifted Flann's thick red hair and played with the skirt of my reddish-brown deerskin tunic, as though somehow reluctant to bid us farewell.

"Liam, me lad, 'tis hard to leave. We have only just met. But 'tis time to return to Ballyconnell, as I promised me father."

Liam was clasping his cousin's hand and arm, loath to let him go. "Ye come an' see us, Flann? Soon?"

"You must," I told him. "Our new brugh will provide you more than enough room. Our baby will be born only a few months from now. I want you there for the christening. And Father Patrick will want to meet you, I know."

Bunny, I saw, was quailing from receiving any more hearty cheek kisses. Cowering behind Liam, she joined in. "Yes, O cousin. Please come soon. You and I both need to meet our new kinsmen Torin and Michael."

He favored us with his sideways grin. "No more redheads besides Cate and me, I hope."

"Perhaps the child," I told him, and I fondly reached up toward his face, memorizing the weathered lines around his eyes and the ironic expression his mouth wore. "Farewell, and G.o.d speed your return to us."

He took my hand and bowed, giving it a small kiss. I turned and left, walking back to our campfire. I disliked farewells, and this one was harder than most. Flann had proved himself a loving kinsman, a worthy warrior, and a steadfast friend.

We were now a normal two days' ride from Derry-but I had to reckon on four or even five more days, for we must not force the convalescing women to move faster than half our normal speed. I sighed, eager to fly like a swan.

The day was young, the sun only now rising shyly from the waters of the Sw.i.l.l.y, a rose-cheeked maiden fresh from the bath. I squatted at our fire, drinking my daily gruit, eyeing the large cauldron that had begun to steam slightly. Every morning and night without fail, the recovering women drank varying portions of my herbal comfort teas, and-whether or not it was partly due to my healing potions-all of them had begun to show remarkable improvement. Even Liath, the mysterious gray-eyed blonde, was sitting now and eating regularly, and yet she still spoke not one word, even to her old companion Elain, who had begun to visit her several times a day.

Weaver seemed to be always at her side, except when Simmi or I took her to a stream for bathing or took care of her other personal needs. I thought he would have taken over those duties, too, if we had asked. But for the sake of propriety, he refrained from volunteering.

Father Jericho had convinced us that the returning women should be temporarily placed in the school itself. It was large enough to accommodate them, he argued. It already contained several privacy screens. It was centrally located, so that caregivers could easily travel there and back from their own homes.

My only misgiving was that Ursus might possibly get wind of them if they were so close to the church. Would he take fright and run? Would the women's presence there allow him the time to fabricate a plausible explanation for being on Tory Island? Would he plot somehow to harm them before they could be witness against him? My mind roiled with dire predictions, and last night I had shared my thoughts with Liam and Brindl.

"We can...guard over them," Liam said in a dubious tone of voice.

"And the Latin cla.s.ses can be moved to the church for a while," Brindl offered, "until Ursus is caught or found innocent. Let no one be allowed in to see the women without a sign from one of us."

"All too complicated," I had told them. "The ideal would be if Ursus were not even there when we arrive. If only we could let them convalesce in the open, with no fear of more evildoers..."

The problem had certainly not resolved itself by this morning, and I sighed again as I sipped my comfort tea. Liam joined me. I reached out to hold his hand, telling him without words how much I loved him. And then we heard a most improbable voice.

"Liam. Caylith. We are returned."

I almost dropped my tea as I awkwardly clambered to my feet. "Walker! And Black Knife! Why are you back so soon?"

Thom was standing with his arms around Brindl, who was grinning widely. Black Knife squatted near the fire, reaching for the cauldron of gruit. "May I?" he asked. Before I could even answer, he was pouring himself a cup of curative tea.

The story unfolded quickly. Thom and Black Knife had flown like midnight owls, taking less than two days to reach Derry. Once there, after only a few hours of solicitous questioning, they learned that the man Ursus owned a large homestead a few miles east of the river. Setting up a silent, invisible sentry, they took turns watching the door to his central brugh and the road to his front door.

They learned that Ursus employed a score of men to tend his livestock and his fields, and those men were quartered in four large, rectangular, clay-and-wattle structures some distance from the main dwelling. The marines had taken the time to meet and talk with the hired hands, who openly talked about the large man who employed them. He paid them in living quarters and meals, and he allowed each man to own two milk cows. They described him as a brooding, quiet man, jolly only when talking to strangers.

The most important information was news they had only just learned, and it had brought them back swiftly to find us. Ursus was planning a trip north on Friday, three days from now. He had ordered an empty ox cart delivered to his brugh, to arrive sometime the day before. This was a regular habit, they had found. Each time that Ursus ordered up the cart, he left the following day and was gone for about a week. And each time he returned, he came back on horseback only, without a cart. He traveled always north and always alone, driving the ox cart, his gray gelding tethered to the back of the cart.

We knew beyond a doubt that Ursus was leaving to buy and sell captive women-to throw them into his ox cart, just as he had done with Mama and her four companions, and to sell them to a prearranged buyer. We had to confront him once and for all, no later than Friday morning, before he left for the area I had reckoned was Inishowen, for Mama's story led straight to that area. We had two days to travel and only a brief time to take Ursus into custody before he pointed the ox cart north to the promontory.

Before I could say a word, Liam stood. "We leave now. Cat, leave Macha behind. Ye must ride wi' me. Thom, Black Knife, find fresh horses. Brindl, ye best ride wi' Thom."

That quickly, Liam put himself in charge of the new expedition. After a few words to Simmi, to Weaver, and a few others, we were riding swiftly back to our familiar bally, to put an end to our quest for justice.

We arrived in Derry early Thursday morning. Brindl and I realized that the Tris would gather that very morning on the camn field at her teach. A wicked plan began to form in my mind, and I talked with my companions as we rode for their small house.

By the time we got there, our plan was agreed on. If the other women would agree to it, the Terrible Tris would ride again! The first-and last-time we had gathered on a real adventure, we had gone to Claudy to track down Owen Sweeney. He had been taken by the high king's former druids Loch and Lucet, and five small women were able to subdue them rather quickly, frightening the superst.i.tious cowards into thinking that we were vengeful G.o.ddesses and banshees come to destroy them.

Now as we rode up, I saw Brigid, Swallow, and tiny Magpie all standing together on the camn field. They ran to us as we dismounted. Before Liam could lift me off the back of Fintan, Magpie was looking up at me with a devilish expression. "SoothTeller. You are here to lead us to Big Bear."

When Liam set me gently on the ground, I hugged her little body close to me. "Hush, you scamp! Do not give away the secret just yet. Wait until we are all inside the house."

Later, when the five of us women along with Liam, Thom, and Black Knife were gathered inside the teach, I outlined a plan. When I finished, we all stood, each of us clasping the hands of the other in a mutual promise. For the women of Tory!

That night Liam and I lay in our welcome bed for the first time in weeks. I was feeling a bit guilty about leaving the women behind at Lake Sw.i.l.l.y. He lay propped on one elbow, and he was stroking my face and neck, consoling me.

"What we do is...for them, Cat. Just as good. B'fheidir...even better."

"Liam, tomorrow must be perfect. We must trap the bear."

"An' we will, a mo ghr." He pulled my chin toward his face gently, not forcing me to respond, and I willingly opened my mouth to his.

"Liam, Liam, love me," I moaned, glad for our privacy, pushing my b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest. We were naked, glad to shed our travel clothes. I tried to pull one of the animal skins across my chest, and he laughed softly.

"Ye cover your...top, but not bottom," he teased me, putting his hand between my legs and rubbing me with my own milkiness. I arched my back, silently signaling for more, and his fingers began to stroke in his practiced way. He pushed the soft pelt aside with his nose and began to suck my nipples.

I rocked and moved-forward and back, up and down-delighting in the simultaneous sucking and rubbing. "More, more," I breathed.

"Tell me, Cat." His husky voice was demanding the words that would fire him to a peak of desire.

"Suck me, take me," I cried. "Oh, put it in me." I was moaning loudly, and I knew he loved that. Soon he was leaning over me, pushing his groin inside me, even with the great obstacle of my stomach trying to get in the way.

"Anois, anois, a Chit," he moaned, and the blurred, throaty edges of his words fired me in a deep, mysterious way I would never understand.

"Oh! Now!" I cried out, and together we ebbed and flowed in heady pleasure, both of us climaxing loudly together. And then we lay embracing so closely that we seemed one large, trembling body.

Almost asleep, I ran our plans through my mind again as I lay embracing Liam. "We leave at dawn," I murmured after a while, reminding him of tomorrow.

"Dawn," he mumbled, and then he was fast asleep.

Long before the sun rose on Friday morning, we were already on the road to the sprawling holdings of the man Ursus. We ate chunks of pan bread as we rode, not taking the extra time to sit at our table and eat a proper morning meal. We met our coconspirators near the long path that led to his brugh. We left our horses tethered inside a stand of rowan trees, and together the eight of us blended into the shadows of predawn.

As our marine scouts had reported, a large farm cart stood near his door, ready to be hitched to an ox. One by one, Liam, Thom, and Black Knife jumped into the back of the cart. Luckily, there was a large piece of tarred cloth in the cart, and we pulled it over them. Then the wait began.

We stood near the large oak door of Ursus the pious citizen, politely waiting for him to emerge. Brindl and I were both dressed in a simple leine, our batas resting in our belt behind us, out of sight. Brigid, Swallow, and Magpie, all clad in their distinctive tris, had positioned their weapons in the same manner-hidden behind their backs. They stood as we did, with hands demurely clasped in front, heads slightly lowered as if in prayer.

I had already heard the subtle call of birds signaling the dawn, and I began my slow breathing. We had planned that all of us would do the same, so that when the moment of confrontation arrived, we would be centered and calm. Somewhere in my mind's eye I saw the sun light the treetops around Ursus's large holdings. And then the unexpected happened.

The oaken door began to swing outward, and at the same moment I heard a gabble of voices behind us. I turned my head quickly and saw what we had not planned for. Half a dozen hired men were approaching, one leading a horse and another a stubborn ox. And in that very second, a large, imposing figure stepped from the door of the brugh.

Thinking quickly, I half turned so that my hidden weapon was not visible either to the large man or to his lackeys. And I saw that my companions, reacting with the quickness born of their recent training, had done the same. Surely our postures looked suspicious! But I was counting on the element of surprise to mask our unusual appearance.

"Well! What have we here?"

The voice was large like the man, booming and jovial. The approaching men had stopped, unsure of whether to continue their a.s.signed task or to challenge us. We needed above all to seem normal until the men were distracted with hitching the ox and tethering the horse. And so I spoke, mustering my sweetest voice.

"Ah-good morning, kind sir. We are come from the church to beg a boon of thee."

Brindl fell in behind my lead without hesitation. "Brother Galen has told us to seek you out this morning. We apologize for our early visit."

Ursus stood looking at each of us with a puzzle in his eyes. I almost quailed to look at him, and I could well imagine why Windy, and even my mother, had been reluctant to talk about him. He was big as a Saxon mercenary without the long hair and mustache. Instead, he was shaved close, revealing a large, meaty chin and thin, colorless lips. His dark brown hair, somewhat frizzed, fell just to his ears, framing his face as I imagined the great s.h.a.ggy mane of a bear would surround its blunt muzzle.

His brows, bushy as his hair, rose until they seemed to meet his hairline. "Yes, early it is, my little beauties. Should you not be home in bed?"

Ignoring the lascivious undertone, I ventured again, "We are come to ask for a donation to our church's Union of Women-a worthy cause indeed. Would you be interested in giving food or other goods?"

By now I clearly saw that the hired men had turned to their tasks, and I walked closer to Ursus. Each of my companions did the same, slowly and almost imperceptibly, drawing within a bata's reach of his body.

"Why do you not visit me next week? Let us say a week from now? I will be returned from my trip, and I will have the time to give you my, ah, full attention."

"But the Union of Women seek justice," said Brigid evenly. "They will not be placated by delay."

Little Magpie raised her freckle-dusted face up to him. "They cry for retribution."

Beautiful Swallow looked at him with her wide, luminous eyes and smiled as she said, "Now is the time."

With those words, each of us drew our batas and advanced on Ursus. The men hidden in the cart were positioned there to help us in case of a misstep. But now we had to rely on them instead to subdue six stunned hired hands as we tried to take down the quarry ourselves.

I saw it happen as though in a dream, as in a deep-breathing vision that showed every detail in harsh clarity.

As soon as Swallow said the word now, all five of us had our batas placed on a strategic point of his body. My own was pressing into his neck, and Brigid had her weapon jammed up against his cheekbone. Swallow pushed her gleaming shillelagh into his chest, while Brindl and Magpie were just tall enough to rest their weapons lightly on his groin.

"Down," I told him, as though talking to a rowdy dog. And he sat.

His legs splayed out in front of him, he was blubbering and crying at the top of his voice like an overgrown child wailing to his mother, "Help! Help me, d.a.m.n all of you for worthless sheep! Help!"

I saw that Liam and the others had already felled the hired men, who had no heart for a fight. And so I turned back to the blubber baby on the ground in front of us.

"Speak, you vile pig. Do you not know that slave trading is a high crime?"

"What-what mean you?" he cried. "I am innocent! I will have you stoned and imprisoned! Do you not know who I am?"

"Yes," said Brindl evenly. "We know exactly who you are. You are the one who has made sure that innocent women are taken, and defiled, and sold to anyone with enough cows or coins to make you a good profit."

"That is preposterous! You cannot possibly prove it!"

"I think we can," said Brigid. "And by the way, I lack two years' training to wear the laurel of a brehon. Now I am a mere apprentice of my father, the renowned judge Cian O'Kelley. Perhaps you have heard of him? Or of the most celebrated ollamh in all this land-Dubthach Mac Lugair? My Uncle Dub?"

She paused, as if for effect. "I am ready to stand in any moot court anywhere, or before Leary himself, to show proof of your crime. Or perhaps I will ask my father-or even my uncle-to do it for me."

Ursus sat there, clearly stunned, looking from one of us to the next. I could barely stand to gaze on him, so repulsed by him that I actually felt my stomach rising into my throat. But I managed to address him in an even tone of voice. "You have victimized women, probably for years. And now you are become the victim of women. The Lord provides."

Chapter 30:.

A New Family "Any day now," Persimmon told me, patting my hand. "Perhaps any hour. Rest quietly, Caylith." She left, closing the door softly behind her.

The room I lay in was called in Gaelic a griann, a sunroom. Michael had told me that usually the roof of a sunroom was covered in decorative bird feathers and was located often in a lady's garden, a kind of summer house. I had imagined my own chamber-on the very roof of the house-to be a completely private place for Liam and me to be alone in our oversized bed. How ironic, I thought, that Liam had lately been supplanted by Persimmon, Brigid, and Mama, each one fussing over me as I lay close to childbirth.

I lay back on pelt-stuffed pillows, looking into the gla.s.s skylight above me. I was bathed in a soft, aqua-toned light that filled the entire chamber. Just outside, I knew, were the comforting arms of a huge, ancient oak that sprawled around our new brugh, not quite hanging over the clever shingled roof but affording dappled shade to our living quarters.

Liam and I had been in our new holdings from the first week we had returned from Tory Island. He had lovingly built a large, handsome fire pit from carefully selected river stones, each one streaked or whorled with green or pale gold to match our gla.s.s windows and the oak-and-cedar floors. Our bedchamber, this s.p.a.cious room, had its own ever-burning brazier to afford warmth and light at night.

The baths, too, were finished. The Feather clan seemed to have put an army to working on the underground steam vents and the three small pools, fed and freshened from the river, that shone in the light from the large gla.s.s window on the east wall of the baths.

The day I saw it completed, I had stood in mute wonder at the loving craftsmanship. One entire wall was a mosaic of a tangle-haired young woman, not quite a mermaid, who rode the back of a leaping dolphin. Her red locks streamed at all angles from her face, and her green eyes were emeralds that sparkled in the reflected light. So beautiful and impish was she that I thought then-and even now-that it was Magpie's depiction of herself and not a fanciful rendering of Caitln O'Neill.

I remembered how, back in January, I had quailed to hear Brigid speak to Mama about Roman baths. Back then, I stubbornly wanted the baths to be mine alone. I cursed myself now for my selfishness. What was I thinking? How could I deny my mother the rare pleasure that Roman baths would bring? To her, they were the ultimate sign of cultivation and civil order. There was only one thing she longed for more than baths-and that was a grandchild, an extension of our family's proud Roman heritage. Now I could give her both.

A few days after we returned, I had asked Liam to bring Mama for a visit. I found that I could not ride by myself without canting and rolling like a pear on a barrel, as Liam had wryly described. And it had become almost impossible to mount and dismount even my diminutive mountain pony.

When Mama knocked, I welcomed her with a simple, long embrace, pressing my head into her chest. Unlike her usual dry response, she smoothed my hair over and over again, the same way she had done the night she was released from Sweeney's shieling. We stood together for a long moment, neither of us speaking.

At last I broke away, looking at her calm face. She seemed less restive than usual, and I admired her smooth, beautiful face and the way the light from the windows caught her high cheekbones and resolute jaw. She was dressed in a long silken toga, pale blue, drawn together with a fringed belt.

She eyed my drab, beltless tunic, no more than a shift to pull over my swollen belly.

"Darling, you look marvelous. How do you feel?"