"None can prevail against that which Jesu has blessed,"

Padrec said. "Come, Dorelei. Let the rest of fhain remain safe in the circle."

Padrec led her to the water and stepped into it. The brook bottom slanted deeply from the bank, immersing him to the waist in four strides. "Come."

Shuddering as much from cold as fear, Dorelei waded into the water to reach his outstretched hand.

"Thee's the bravest woman I've ever seen. Any man would love thee."

"D-do nae hear them c-coming as I do?" She qua- vered through chattering teeth. "Do nae feel them about us, the ones without names?"

"Nae, they cannot harm you. Dorelei, daughter of Gawse, of the people of Mabh, do you accept Christ as your savior? Do you trust His magic to vanquisn the iron?"

She tried to keep from shivering uncontrollably in the freezing water. "A-aye, Padrec."

"Christ said thee shall be reborn in Him. Newborn, will need a new name."

147.

Dorelei's eyes were glazed with cold and fear; she felt the spirits pressing against the wail of magic, leaning over it, looking for one small weak point to batter through.

"Quickly, Padrec. What name?"

His red hair and beard were wet-plastered against his head, but Padrec's eyes were kind and sure- "Be only one to fit thy courage, Dorelei. Come."

One arm about her waist, Padrec raised his voice to the people on the bank. "Salmon fhain, thee has a gern to sing of. The magic of Christ is only strength added to her own. Let all see."

Holding her small shoulders supported by his hand, Padrec bent Dorelei under the water, immersing her for an instant, then lifted her gasping from the waves. "In the name of God and His only begotten Son, I christen thee Dorelei Mabh. Amen."

He gave Dorelei no time to think about it but led her out of the water to her waiting people, catching up the discarded cloak and wrapping her in it. "Now let Gern-y- fhain take up the iron."

Shivering, miserable, she thought; / believe in him. Let iron do what it will. Cannot turn back now.

Dorelei bent to the iron and lifted it.

Nothing-no pain, no magic coursing its evil into her flesh as when Naiton laid it on her. She opened her hand.

Only cold metal smeared with wet rust.

"See - . see," she said giddily, thrusting it out to her folk. "Nae, see! Be dead!"

"Iron is beaten," Padrec said in a low, strong voice. "Iron can only be the servant of fhain now. Thy gern has accepted Christ, and her fhain is in His hand. Yah! Dorelei Mabh!"

"Yah!"

"Padrec, take me to the water," Drust beseeched. "Let me accept Christ as well."

"That can come later, my David." Padrec gripped his shoulder. "As Jesu crossed into death and returned from it for all men who believe, so Dorelei Mabh gives this gift to fhain. Pass the iron among you. Feel the truth of it."

Dorelei held the iron out to Cru, knowing what he fought and conquered in taking it.

"See! Feel!" Padrec shouted against the wind. "Has not fhain beaten it?"

148 The iron passed more quickly to Neniane, who peered at it in her unmarked hand. "Be just . . . cold. Here, Artcois, fee!."

From Artcois to Bredei and through the ranks of fhain. Guenloie spat on il before passing it to Malgon. His artist's curiosity turned il this way and that to see how it was made before passing it to Drust, who held it high overhead, exultant.

"Yah! Lugh Sun! See! Do love thee but will nae be ruled."

"Nae more!"

"Iron!" Drust sang out. "Iron!"

"Iron be servant now."

Padrec stood aside as they began to circle the iron where Drust hurled it into the mud. Iron . . . iron . . . the defiant chant grew in power against the rain lashing about them harmlessly now, turning to snow even as tnby whirled and leaped in the jubilant dance of their victory.

The dark came early this time of year; the blanketing whiteness of the fresh snow gave an eerie quality to dusk.

The world lost its eye for color. There was nothing but white and black and shades between. The stockade gates had been barred this hour as the houses within. The Taixali village was so silent, that Leogh, the blacksmith to Naiton, standing on the parapet, was glad to see smoke rising from roomoles as a sign of life.

Rain changed to snow some hours before, and then the wind suddenly dropped to nothing. The falling snow only floated down from a leaden sky as if Lugh had opened all the feather pillows that ever were and wafted the innards to earth. Leaning over the palings, Leogh couldn't see a bowshot beyond them. Gray-white heath blurred into dark sky in profound silence.

Nothing moved on the heath. Nothing. He was sure of that. He tried to remember that later.

Leogh stamped his feet, blinking a snowflake from the corner of one eye. When he looked to the east again, the gasp of surprise exploded from his throat.

The riders were there, an unmoving line of them.

One, two, three, four-eight of them behind a ninth, sitting their shaggy ponies in absolute stillness. Leogh fin-

149.

gered the bone charm at his throat and thanked his gods the gate was barred The figure in front of the line snaked a bare arm from beneath the muffling cloak and pointed at him. The motion of thai arm was like a missile hurled, like Fale itself choosing out Leogh for death. He telt it as if the arm had struck him.

"NAITON!".

Leogh had good hunter's eyes; he would have seen something of their coming, some movement betore they halted, but they were just there where nothing was but white a moment before.

Again the woman called. "NAITON!"

For ail his summoned courage, Leogh began to shake.

The elder should never have insulted the Faerie queen with the iron, Leogh said as much that night at the fire.

You don't trust Faerie; you don't back down from them, but you don't bait them, either. Iron-magic was strong, but if their next crops were blighted or newborn bairn deformed, one needn't look far for the cause. The Faerie girl had the unsettling look of a weird about her. Did she not stop that fool boy in his tracks when he tried to badger her with his arrow? With a mere look, like an invisible arm holding him back. Leogh remembered that as she pointed at him again. He narrowed his eyes; there was something in her hand.

"NAITON!".

Somewhere in the village, a door opened and then another. Leogh gripped his charm so hard he telt it cut- ring into his fingers. Three times the Faerie woman called;

three times could be the beginning of magic. Nine could be fatal, if so she meant. Leogh hurried down the log steps, pounding across the enclosure toward the long- house. She called for Naiton, not himself, and Leogh was very glad of that.

Sitting her pony in the white dusk, Dorelei felt her own power sheathed in the magic of the Jesu-water. Its icy memory yet tingled over her skin beneath her clothes. For a moment at the brook she'd quailed at touching the iron;

then her courage took hold and she grasped it, broke its power for all time. Changed now, changed forever, re- born, renamed, for doing that which the first Mabh never