Holder of Lightning

'"As long as Lamh Shabhala is here. .'" MacEagan commented. The brogue of Inish Thuaidh sat firmly in his tenor voice. "Aye, that's the crux, is it not?"

"Would you have me leave, Tiarna?" Jenna asked him. She sighed. "Then give me a boat and I will sail for Ceile Mhor, perhaps, or-" She stopped as the man laughed.

"You misunderstand, Holder," he said. "If you leave, then the likelihood is that Lamh Shabhala will fall into the hands of the tuatha. If that hap-pens, then Inish Thuaidh will inevitably fall to the Rl Ard. We'd fight and resist, we'd run to the hills and hide, coming out to kill them when they least expect it. We would die to the last rather than submit but eventually we would be conquered, because we couldn't stand against the massed power of the

clochs and the army the RI Ard can raise. But while Lamh Shabhala is here, we might yet prevail." He moved across the room to the window, pushing the stained glass panels open. "Holder, I’d like you to see this."

Jenna rose, going to where the tiarna stood. Looking out, she could see the ramparts of the keep, built into a mountainside overlooking the har-bor. Everything was cloaked in mist from the rain, but Jenna imagined that on a clear day the view would be breathtaking: the blue deep water, the curving strips of white sand, the houses set in the lush green foliage that cloaked the mountainside, the sheer black rock of the cliff on which the keep perched.

"They call this Croc a Scroilm, the Hill of Screaming. When Mael Armagh of Infochla brought his ships of war to Inish Thuaidh, when his cloudmages brought him safely through the storms our mages called up to stop him, it was here his fleet landed, and here that the first battle was fought. Then, there was no keep, only the flat top of the mountain. The pregnant women, the young mothers and their children, the elderly and infirm of Dun Kiil fled here when the Infochla fleet sailed into the harbor and they watched the battle from above. We had no army waiting for them since it was thought he would come first to attack Inishfeirm, where Severii O’Coulghan, the Holder of Lamh Shabhala, waited. Here there were only a few hundred gardai and maybe a thousand pressmen, and only a single cloudmage with her Cloch Mor. It was a slaughter, and quickly over. Those Inishlanders Ri Armagh captured-men and women both, for many of the women fought alongside their men-he brought bound and hobbled to the base of the mountain below these cliffs where those gathered above could see. With a wave of his hand, he had his archers fire into the helpless captives, while those above wailed in sorrow and terror and helpless disbelief. Then, Armagh ordered his soldiers to climb the mountain; when they reached the mourning crowds, his sol-diers raped the women and their daughters and killed the sons and old men, throwing their violated bodies over the side of the mountain to join the bleeding corpses of their slaughtered loved ones. Some, according to the tale, jumped over the cliff on their own rather than submit. They fell, all of them, screaming… "

Jenna’s hand had gone to her throat as MacEagan spoke, imagining the horror of that scene. "We

remember," MacEagan finished. "We will always remember. It was Severii who began the construction of this keep after the Battle of Sliabh Mlchinniuint, where Rl Armagh met his fate. They say it's the tears of those who died here that drip inside the keep when it rains. I don't know if that's true. I do know that the roof's been repaired and rebuilt and redesigned a dozen or more times over the centuries, and still the tears fall. I think they remember, too."

Jenna turned away from the window, MacEagan closing it behind her. She saw that the stained glass depicted the scene he'd just described: a woman, her mouth open in a silent cry, tumbled over black, jagged rocks. "What is it you're asking of me?" she asked the trio.

Banrion Aithne answered. "Some of the tiarna advise us to wait, to prepare our armies for the inevitable. That's the advice my husband listens to, because it means he can sit in comfort and do nothing. But while we sit, the tuatha make their own preparations. We've learned that the Rl Ard has ended the conflict between Tuath Connachta and Tuath Gabair, and that he is actively working to have the tuatha join together. If they all come, fully prepared and allied, we can't stand."

"What does your brother say?" Jenna asked.

Aithne almost laughed. "So you've felt the knives in his glare? Aron will be against anything that involves you, I'm afraid. I'll deal with that when the time comes. But. ." She paused. "We here in this room believe the time must be soon."

The bright shattering of glass tore Jenna's gaze away from Aithne_

Kianna tossed her wineglass into the fireplace.

"The Banrion is right," she said. "We must strike first. Before the Tuatha are ready."