The fire-Hickering image of the woman did not move.

His first nervous fear wearing off. Padrec felt his patience thinning. "Bruidda, answer him. We've already seen the 307.

terrors of the dark and worse in daylight. Thee cannot fright us more. I was betrayed by tallfolk as thee." He glanced with pity at Malgon groveling before the gnarled woman. Then the pity turned hard. "Put up thy weapons.

Have seen more death in a day than thee in all thy life."

Malgon was horrified. "Do nae speak so to gern.

Bruidda, do honor thee. Did see the dead and the ravens and thee calling to the Bear. Was thee who found the black fawn. Be a thing that has ended? Tell me."

Bruidda's eyes closed and opened again. "Ending has begun." She moved closer into the light, the two ihain men gliding after her. With great reverence, Malgon made the mourning sign and put his hands to her belly. Padrec did the same. They stood sn respect before her as she sank to the position of rest, speaking with icy vindication.

"Did rade north from Cnoch-nan-ainneal, all fhains together and Dorelei higher than all, even Reindeer. All in the name of thy Jesu and Father-God."

But would the girl be counseled? No, she led them through the lowland glens in pride and daylight. They were seen by Taixali, even Naiton and his murderers who killed Bruidda's son. Would Dorelei even then have the caution of a dull-wiued sheep? Would she think of her people before her pride? Nae, nae, all be changed now, all be in Jesu's hand. Had she worked miracles any less than Padrec? Will give Rainbow-gift to these lallfolk. A will see that our strength be in peace and love, oh, yes. Trust Doretei; she will go among these Taixati thus. And so she did, with many words from the Father-God's book.

"A's strength might be in peace and love." Bruidda spat into the fire. "But nae Naiton's."

The Taixali elder was not awed but vengeful. He nursed grudges against Dorelei for lost presence. He felt on them in daylight, following a night of dark moon, after making magic of his own. Then Prydn saw how wise Dorelei had grown in Jesu. She raged through the survivors, seek- ing a vengeance she called God's on Taixali she called Egypt-fhain. The other gerns knew they followed only madness and left her. They threw away what iron they had and cleansed themselves in the circle and begged Mother's forgiveness. None rode with Dorelei but her own fhain women and their wealth.

308 Bruidda rose off her haunches. "Salmon swims where a must. Should not jump from nver to run on dry ground, nor Reindeer breed in water. Malgon first husband, dost still pray lo Jesu? Dost stili believe?" She waited for the answer. "Speak: dost still believe?"

The answer was slow in coming. "Drust did."

"And where be Drust now?" Bruidda demanded in a flat voice. "Leave this lying fool of a Raven. Find thy wife, an a still lives."

"Where, Gern-y-fhain?"

A bare shrug, that was not Bruidda's concern. "Where dost wind go? Nae fham will give place to Dorelei. Nae rath a can rest in for long. Be spit on now, cast out, and this Raven as well. Leave him, Malgon."

Bruidda and her men did not move back into the dark, it simply closed around them again. "North . . ."

They were alone again.

When Padrec woke next morning, Malgon was squat- ting motionless across the cold ashes of the fire. Padrec had the impression he'd been the object of study tor some time. When they were ready to ride, Malgon unhooked the quiver of army arrows from his saddle and tossed them away. He drew the iron knife and held it out to Padrec.

"Thee'll have need of it, Mal. Braw work of thy own hand."

"Will have nae more iron. A's magic turns bad." And there was something else that Malgon fought to confess.

"In the night, did almost use it on thee."

Padrec's throat went dry. "Jesus."

They looked at each other.

"What stayed my brother's hand?"

Malgon took his time to compose the thought. There was a quiet dignity to it. "Be bonds between us, Padrec.

Have fought together, have shared things beyond fham, beyond what any woman, even Bruidda, could know."

"Bruidda. Visions." Padrec dismissed them with con- tempt. "Ending? Death? Death's been common as salt to us. I'm sick of religions, yours and mine alike. Keep thy good knife."

But Malgon hurled it into the ashes of the Fire. "What are we, Padrec? Where are we? Lost!"

309.

"We're going home. Come here." Padrec engulfed the smaller man in wiry arms. "Going home, Mal. Then we'll think on what to do."

"Could nae do't, Padrec."

"I know."

"Did want to. Was so feared in the night. Feared all summer of death, of being lost and never to see Guenloie again. Feared a would put me on the cross when believing be gone anyway. Feared of Bruidda, and how . . . how comd rid myself of all that fear and thee, once and always.

With one blow." Malgon shuddered in Padrec's arms. "Did almost."

"Look at us: lost beyond finding and not a faith or a god to patch our souls with. But we have women and children somewhere."

"Dead," Malgon whispered, broken.

"Nae. Listen." Padrec shook Malgon hard. "Listen!

Are we dead? Mal, I've a gutful of gods and omens.

Enough."

Padrec stumped away to his horse, threw his saddle over, and began to cinch with angry, decisive movements.

"Gods awake, gods asleep, gods who don't give a deacon's damn. I am me, Mai. I am here between earth and sky. A poor joke of a priest, but a man like you and undeniable.

We have a family, and I'm going home."

Padrec's grin was a defiance. "Pick up your knife and arrows, man. Iron couldn't kill you all summer. Cannae hurl thee now."

Malgon felt barely encouraged, but the artisan in him hated to leave such fine work. And then didn't Padrec wink at him, heaven and hell forgotten, unimportant.

"Will rade with thy brother, Malgon, or stand weep- ing in the cold?"

Malgon retrieved his weapons. "Will be insult to Mother."

"Mother's managed since before the ice," Padrec threw over his shoulder, trotting ahead. "A's a big girl now."

That same day, following River Findhorn to the north- east, they came on the solitary stone covered with symbols.

Most of them were ancient: Rainbow-sign, the marks of Wolf and Hawk fhains, even old Salmon marks. But far

310 down and quite new were the waved lines of Salmon again, shallow-scratched into the crumbling granite surface. ^

"You see, Mai? It's them. We'll find them." ';'

Between this stone and the sea, Maigon remembered only one crannog and that rarely used by Salmon in his lifetime. They wrapped their cloaks tighter against the ^ cutting wind that smelled of salt now, and pushed on. ^ When they reached the low, bare rise that Maigon pointed 'i- out. they called to announce themselves. Their hopes leaped for a moment when they seemed to receive an answer, but it was only their echo, lonely as themselves, wandering over the hills and gray river and back again.

The crannog was empty, the newest signs months old.

"No, look." Padrec crouched at the gern stone.

"Salmon."