Was it? She didn't know that surely. Cru had not reached for her that much since Midsummer. She remem- bered the last time, not very tender. There was anger disguised in his loving, as in hers after the Taixali village.

It could be Cru or Padrec, she didn't know.

Lei him go. I am Christian now. I will follow Jesu with Padrec. He is stronger than Cru. Those thai will not follow, let them go back to bronze. Let them try to betray me like J udas-Cru.

Oh, Mother, I hurt so inside. Why did he make me send him away?

The fiat dish of earth showed no fires anywhere in any direction, no sound but the soughing wind. She wasn't

176 hungry; the thought of food brought a fresh wave of sickness, but she could use a fire to rest and think by before going back. The wind on the hill was alive with things to tell her, once she heeded them.

Sheep passed this way often, the scent old and fresh alike, so the ridge would be full of dried dung. Dorelei collected a small heap of moss not yet dampened by the night dew, then a stock of chips to burn. When her fire was laid, she took from her saddle pouch the tinderbox Malgon made her, thinking how soon wonders became common. She struck the iron against the flint until one of the red sparks caught in the tein-eigin, then shoved the box into her Fire pile. Tein-eigin was sacred moss used for kindling the holiest fires; she fell a bit reckless using it so, but it wouldn't hurt to have one more magic working for her.

The smoke blotted out the sheep smell with its own, bul one acrid trace lingered. This trail was marked by Wolf often as part of his hunting range. A path so often used by sheep would be easy food for a family working together. Summer was fat for Wolf as fhain; they were always well fed now, though they might chase a sheep for the fun of it, playful as Rot or Bredei. Tallfolk never thought of Wolf as a person who laughed or liked to play.

She heard them, riding before the sun went down, raising their voices before the night's hunt. Dorelei knew the different songs. Sometimes they talked or passed warnings from one group to another, but tonight there was no urgency in the mournful song. Tonight Wolf sang for the love of it.

Dorelei wished she could.

The wind shifted; the urine marking scent was strong and new. Squatting by her fire, Dorelei felt no surprise when her pony neighed and skittered in nervous warning.

"Peace, come here by me." She snuggled her cheek to his forelock. The pony's head jerked up again, wary. Hold- ing the reins, she shifted so Wolf could scent them and come if he felt like it.

Just so, one night, did Jesu climb a high fell where he found Sa-tan, an evil lord of the night who offered Jesu all the kingdoms of the world if Jesu would bow to him.

Doretei found it easy to understand. If gods could bicker, 177.

they could bargain. And in just such a place as this, the Father-God spoke out of the bush to Moses.

Speak to me, then. 1 will listen. What does Father-God say to me?

Beyond her fire, a part of the dark took shape and moved. Light and shadow resolved to gray pelt, two close- set reflections of the fire to amber eyes, muzzle lolling open in a cold smile that seemed to relish the secret joke of the world.

A bitch wolf; like human women, female wolves needed change and play and even a time to tire of her pups and draw off alone. Like Dorelei she could weary of a husband but never left him until death.

That's wise. Mother sends Wolf, not the cuckoo, to remind me of this. Give Cru a time apart, and we wzll mend it.

The two females eyed each other. "Do come to offer me the world to bow down to thee?"

Wolf seemed amused: why do you trouble night with questions?

"Be the bush that burns and speaks taw?"

Will give you law, woman. Taste the air, feel the night beyond your fire. Still. Whole. Would you change that?

"Where whole?" Dorelei challenged. "Hunger and cold and dead children always."

And yet it was yours since before Mabh. I hunted on your Hank when the first gern cried to Mother, and now we both die out of the land. What matter your new magic and mate; to call him Raven means he can fly? Go the way you know.

"Sa-tan, thee offer old gifts for new."

Do I? Will tatlfolk hail you when they believe you spirits of the dead? Will they open gates and welcome you because fhain now carries iron. ! wiTi give you law to trust:

go back.

Wolf lifted her muzzle; there was a new scent on the night air beside Dorelei and the pony. She rose from her haunches and turned her last pity on Dorelei.

Listen for my song. I will sing for you.

Across the fire. Wolfs form became less definite, faded, disappeared. Now Dorelei heard the newcomers and caught the fhain smell. Her people had followed her. Perhaps . . .

"Cru?"

178 There was no answer out of the dark. Dorelei shifted away from the firelight; after a moment she saw the small shapes squatting motionless in the dark. Out of it, silent as Wolf, came Reindeer gern in her old kilt and vest as Dorelei remembered her, the huge pendant ruby catching her fire and throwing it back. The older woman stood waiting. Dorelei would have risen in respect, but some- thing new stayed her. / tamed the iron, not Bruidda. I will not put my hands to her belly. That is past. It u for her la do.

The hard-faced woman gazed at Dorelei with a flicker of displeasure. "Does Salmon forget Bruidda, who blessed thee once?"

"Nae, sister."

"Girl does nae rise for woman, then?"

Dorelei spoke loud enough for the others to hear.

"Did call me child. Be woman now with wealth in me. Now gern speaks to gern. Sil by my fire, sister."

Bruidda sank to her haunches, ropy arms dangling over her knees. "Thee grows proud- Do take Mabh's name where a's own blood would not."

"Was reborn in Jesu magic and named anew by Ra- ven. Sister would nae understand."

Bruidda didn't miss the condescension. "Fhains tell that thee ride with Blackbar now."

"Aye."

"By what magic?"

"Reindeer remembers Naiton of Taixali?"

"A did kill my son."

"Did shame him with a's own iron."

Bruidda allowed a slight, satisfied smile. "Did hear.

Say then, how was a done?"

"By my magic from Mother. By Padrec Raven. Dost think do take Mabh's name in vain?"

Great or not, blessed or not, the girl was young enough to be arrogant. Bruidda saw that as weakness. She was more concerned than other gerns in this matter. The stags rutted early the past autumn, and the fawns were born before Lugh returned to warm the spring- Many of them died on the summer trail north; many did not live that long. That in itself was a breach in the way of things, as if Reindeer had forgotten everything Mother taught. Among the weak and crippled, Bruidda had found a Tawn whose 179.

fine hair was not dappled but black all over, so black that it was surely sent by Lugh as Raven in another form, since no fawn was ever dropped with such coloring. The little thing was born with its forelegs only, the others mere stumps. Clearly it was a sign to Reindeer fhain. Since it was dying, Bruidda gave it quick mercy, cut into the sack of entrails, and read the portent. She did not speak in her own fhain of this but only among her wise sister gerns when she met them traveling. Eventually they agreed on the meaning.

That there were forelegs only pointed to a future cut off from the past. There would be born to Reindeer fhain a gern of Mabh's blood, and to her a husband, both from fhain sisters, as was proper. Though the signs did not point to happiness, they would both be great in the midst of sadness. But this girl was Salmon and her Raven of the tallfolk. The signs hinted of the sea in the great one's name; "bright one from the sea," or Morgana, and her husband somehow of the Bear. Bruidda had heard of false gods and false leaders before this, and she was not used to familiarity from girls less than half her age, no matter their sudden and wondrous fame.

"Lugh sent sign of a great gern to come. Do see thee a child who speaks like one, thy belly not yet marked with bearing of five wealth. Does Raven teach you boasting as well? Speak, girl. How was a done?"