Читаем The Celtic Riddle полностью

"And the man looks all over the countryside for his wee boy, the real one, but he can't find him for many, many years. But then he does, when the boy's almost growed. But then the man's wife, who's brooded all these years over her lost boy, she won't recognize her son, says he's not him. But the man, he knows it's his son, who's been lost, and just before he dies, is reconciled with him. So 'tis a strange story, but a true one, and a happy ending of sorts."

Denny stopped talking, and then rocking. The tale, such as it was, was over. What a peculiar story, I thought, and would have made a point of forgetting if it had not been for what was said next.

"Denny has lots of stories like that one," Malachy said. "But that one, 'twas one of Eamon Byrne's favorites. Brought a tear to his eye every time, didn't it, Kev?"

"Aye, a tear to his eye every time. Very close to his heart, 'twas."

I was about to probe this further when I heard my name yahooed from the top of the hill leading down to the pier. Michael Davis came running toward me. "They told me at the Inn they thought you'd come down here," he puffed. "It's gone!"

"What's gone?"

"Breeta's clue!" he exclaimed. "Someone's got into the safe and stolen Breeta's clue."

<p>Chapter Five. A HAWK ABOVE THE CLIFF</p>

AS wondrous as the Dagda's cauldron might be, 'twas only one of four great gifts from the gods, one for each of the cities from which the children of the goddess Danu sprang, and each with a tale to be told.

The cauldron, the one that was never empty, was from Murias. From Falias came Lia Fail, the stone that roared and sang when the true king of Ireland stood on it. Brought, some have said, from the East by the goddess Tea to Tara, the stone, for that is what it is, the stone of destiny, is to rest wherever the high king of Scotic reigns. Many the man thought he would be king at Tara, but only a few heard the roar of Lia Fail.

It should never have left Ireland. Never have left. But Fergus, son of Ere, begged his brother, Murtagh mac Ere, to send it to him in lona so that Fergus might be crowned king there. Filled with a care for his brother, Murtagh sent it across the sea. Then Kenneth took it to Scone.

And what happened then to it, this gift from thegods? The bloody English took it! The things the English done to us! The evil Edward carried off the stone of destiny and put it beneath the English throne. Edward thought he took the power with it, but have the English ever heard it roar, I ask you? Have they ever heard it roar?

There's some would say the stone that rests at Tara now, right close to its center, is Lia Fail. But that one too is silent, and should it be Lia Fail, then the magic's left us.

And then there's them that say the English have set their royal arses over a plain old chunk of stone. And Lia Fail is hidden, waiting for a better time, waiting to be found.

"I'm afraid you may think us ungracious," Margaret Byrne said, as she poured tea into delicate ivory cups with a practiced hand, having peremptorily dismissed a rather nervous Deirdre, who'd clattered around with the teacups in an irritating way. "The circumstances…" she said, dropping her eyes delicately. "I hope you understand."

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