"A great borrowing," Guenloie agreed. They all ap- proved heartily; somewhere in the notion shimmered a pride. "A braw rade such as Artcois, Bredei, and Cruaddan did make for horses," Guenloie continued. "Come like

336 shadow, go like wind. But how fast could wind fly with such a heavy load. or how far? Would take many horses and the silent speed of Tod-Lowery to get il across Wall in secret. Were many men on the Wall."

True, it would ask much even of Prydn stealth. If the hoard came even from a series of borrowings, the loads would be considerable. Padrec estimated their worth in millions in Roman gold, no stretch of imagination when he'd seen a million's worth or near it jangling from more than one gem's neck. Across the Wall with all this, then through the thieving Venicones and dishonorable Taixali after them? Difficult. Perhaps impossible. Dorelei realized that all this truth, dazzling as it was with tallfolk numbers and history, still left them where they were before.

"Where, Padrec? What circle out of hun-dreds?"

"Well, Gern-y-fhain." Guenloie's laughter tinkled in the stone chamber as she gathered the cups and platters for washing. "Thee dost nae make hard work harder."

"Cousin has new thought?"

"How many tens of seasons have raded with Gawse and thee?" Guenloie sighed. "And who was't must always help load fhain treasure? Did always need three ponies for the whole of it, and a did need much rest on rade."

Guenloie looked from one to the other of them to see if her point was followed; it was not. "Well, then: with a great rading into Briton-land and out again, and the po- nies alt lathered under treasure-weight, look thee, how far would wise Prydn go afore sharing some and harrowing the rest?"

Padrec nodded carefully. "Dost make sense."

"Would carry it through Venicones or Taixati, whose blood I curse in my own veins?"

"Wait." A spark from Guenloie's idea caught Fire in Padrec's imagination. "Be only certain places to cross, and diose only in the dark."

"On moonless nights or in storm," Dorelei prompted.

"And those crossings . . -" Padrec tried to picture the army maps of the Wall and the crossing places he knew.

Camboglanna, Brocolitia, near Cilurnum. The notion made excellent logistic sense. My God, the perfect place, not a day from the Wall.

"Cnoch-nan-ainneal!"

337.

"The Hill of the Fires." Dorelei glowed with vindication.

"Thee's right, right, nghl" Padrec swept Guenloie up into his arms in a thrill of excitement, flustering her.

"Nae, Padrec, stop."

"Why did thee nae tell thee was genius, cousin?"

"Oh . . ." There was no vanity in her self-effacing blush. "Did nae ever ask me." A furtive glance at her fhain sisters. "Tatlfoik blood be always last in fhain."

"Cousin, thee's been long clean of that," Dorelei said.

"But was habit, Gern-y-fhain. Gawse did call me slow and stupid, and thee and Neniane. So." Guenloie shrugged ingenuously. "Did think't myself."

Malgon toyed with the new notion, liking it. "Why not Cnoch-nan-ainneal?"

"Why not?" Dorelei sealed it. "Hast been ours since first davs and closest to Wall. Mabh herself put her rath on the hill."

The simple truth of it awed Padrec. They might have walked over the Prydn hoard many times. No longer a mere puzzle to divert them at supper. So the song-map was heard by Briganies trading across the Wail and taken home as doggerelfor lulling children like himself to sleep, already half forgotten by Prydn with their own foreshort- ened sense of the past.

Until now.

The Hill of the Fires. It could be.

Dorelei crossed her legs on the stone, back straight, arms resting on her knees in the formal position for gem-speaking.

"Salmon fhain will rade early this season to Cnoch- nan-ainneal. Will trade with Atecotti for what be needed even an be naught but fish and vetch. Will take our flocks.

Those that die on rade will be eaten, the fleeces saved.

Will be on the hill before other fhains even think to move."

She paused, distilling the cold remainder of her thought.

"For other fhains, a's cast us out. An a try to take rath from us, will be a's misfortune. If Salmon be no longer of a*s blood, then they none of ours. Will find this treasure for Salmon alone. Will walk again in Mother's breast, but alone."

338 Padrec bowed his head toward her. "Yah, Gem-y-fhain."

The others agreed sibilantly. Yah.

"Be a thing lo end or begin, be there'l will happen. So speaks thy gern."

End or beginning, her people, even for a little while, would have a new faith and purpose. Beyond that hill there was nothing for them but Tir-Nan-Og.

Mother, it is I, Dorelei Mabh. There is no circle here for you to find me in, no moonstones to please your eye.

We lose many things in this new world, but we learn as well. The other gerns cast me out, so we are no longer bound by Prydn law to share or be a part. They are not as wise as I once thought. Truly, I think Bruidda is only a Eired old woman and a frightened one. The world is more than I knew; I am not on the edge of Bruidda's world, but in the center of my own. Mabh had the sight to see and the courage to change, and though she angered you, she was your first great gern, like Mo-ses. Watch over our rade.

Lugh Sun, let Rainbow point us to the hoard, and as well to Tir-Nan-Og, which you promised in the first days.

Be much needed now. Show us the mole on our back that we cannot see, for we can wait no longer. Let ending be beginning. There is no place else for us now. I promise when we come to the first circle on rade, I will leave my last gold tore for you to remember with. Send us Rainbow at Bel-lein.

jesu, Son of Father-God-I leave farewells to the last.

We are very sorry to leave You, but we must return to what we know, to Mother and Lugh. Will be hard for You to understand, but we must go where the magic lives, even beyond world-edge. I will be promised no longer, but will have Tir-Nan-Og for my folk. You, who are a god of the small soul, will understand. Mo-ses only listened to the bush that burned. I must go into it, take the god by the hand, and demand miracles, not for later but now. You will know how low hope can burn in gerns who are only human women.

Even when You spoke in riddles, You were a gentle and generous god, Jesu. You gave us iron-magic. You gave me Padrec, who is my joy, and though he is gone 339.

from You, have eye to his care now and then. I do not think he can live without his gods any more than I without mine.

You were a braw god, Jesu, but . . . You and Your priests have very strange notions about men and women, like Padrec when he came to us, but marriage cured him.

It would have been better if You married. You would have known a little more about women. But You helped me find not only the name of Mabh, but Dorelei as well.

You helped me say my own name aloud in the world. I will not forget. Father-God, bless you. We go.

VII.

Where the Magic Lives

It was still March and the wind sharp when they led their ponies up Cnoch-nan-

M their ponies up Cnoch-nan- ainneal and entered the stone circle. With Crulegh in her arms, Dorelei turned slowly in a full circuit about the center.

"Was here I offered my first stones to Mother as gern, Cru. Here we found Padrec." And here we could end.

"Here we begin again," she announced firmly to her peo- ple. "Be much to do."