"It was a monster," the soldier said. He was on one knee, in front of Dermott whose brows were drawn down over cold eyes. "It came upon us on the road. And there were giants who tore up trees as if they were weeds and laid about us."
"A monster. And giants." Dermott bristled. "Have you been at the pot still, man?"
"No, my Lord." The soldier was visibly shaking. He kept an eye on Dermott's sword hand. It hovered dangerously close to the hilt. "It is all true. Even arrows were useless against them. One of the men thought it might be a fir-bolg from the sea."
"There's been no Fir Bolg in a hundred generations," Dermott roared.
"But there are giants yet," Fainn said, leaning in towards the high seat. "In the lonely places by the sea."
"Well, we'll soon put an end to them," Dermott said. "We can't have giants thwarting out will, can we."
"Indeed not, my lord. But giants are not the concern of the moment."
Dermott shot him a look, then turned to the soldier.
"Did you see anyone else."
"Not me, lord, but a trooper was sure he glimpsed some others. Two or three. And they were small. Like children."
"Children! Did one of them have red hair?"
"That I can't say."
"It's them," Fainn interjected. "We lost them in the mist and they must have drifted. There is no escape for them now."
"We will scour the whole of Eirinn for them," Dermott growled. "North to south. East to west. Leave not a stone or a leaf unturned."
He turned to Fainn. "And what of this monster creature?"
"A fell runner maybe," Fainn surmised. "I thought they had all died out."
"Well, it's a scrapper. We find it and if we can't make a soldier of it, then we'll burn the damn thing. And those children too. Use all your wiles, spellbinder, all your powers. Drive them to me. I will have my harp back."
"Indeed you will," Fainn said.
* * *
It was good to be back in the saddle again, although after four days of riding, Kerry was beginning to complain.
"My bum is numb," he told Jack. "And getting number. It's a bummer."
Jack laughed. You could always count on Kerry to lower the tone and cajole a smile.
"Better than walking," Connor said. "I really like horses. You can go for miles and you can see for miles as well from up here. I think everybody should have a horse."
They had stopped for the night by the edge of a wood and Fennel got to work preparing food from her big knapsack. She carried enough to feed a small army, which, Jack thought, was exactly what they were.
"Dermott knows we are coming," Hedda said as they ate. "Fainn thinks his storms and hail are driving us to him."
"The other riders must have reported back," Jack said.
"And I have seen the outriders," Hedda said. "They keep their distance, but they also keep watch."
"I haven't seen a thing," said Kerry. "You must have eyes like a hawk."
"I thought I saw movement in the distance, but I couldn't be sure," Corriwen said. "But if they are just watching, then Dermott knows the direction we are taking. He will plan an ambush."
Hedda smiled. "That he will. He will draw all his forces in and surround us. If he can."
"Shouldn't we go a different route?" Connor wanted to know. "I mean if he knows where we are."
"We go in the direction Jack Flint tells us. And the harp tells him."
That was true enough. Every night when they stopped, Jack would take the harp out and stroke the strings gently. The faint noise was nowhere near as loud as a well-strung harp could play, but the aftermath, as the sound faded, whispered words in his head, telling him to keep going south to Tara Hill. So they went south.
And Dermott's men kept their distance, but shadowed them all the way, as the weather closed in and fierce winds blew down from the north, urging the small band along.
It was close to dawn when Jack saw Hedda move, silent as a cat, as silent as she had been when she had sat beside a tree, motionless, hardly breathing and always on guard. She touched Fennel lightly and the giantess came awake instantly. By the light of the fire, Jack saw them steal out of the camp. He rolled out of his blanket and followed them.
They were only a few yards ahead. Fennel's great bulk was almost invisible and she walked as silently as she could, but Jack could still feel the earth vibrate with every footfall.
Then he heard a sound, not far off. It was a sort of growl, the noise a badger might make as it dug for worms. It snuffled, then whistled, like a weasel and for an instant Jack felt a shiver of anticipation as remembered the snakes writhing snakes that had appeared from nowhere as they set out to search for Corriwen.
Hedda stopped. Her shadow merged with the trunk of a tree and she vanished into it. Fennel parted the branches of an ash-tree and bent over it to look down. She reached out slowly. Jack saw the fingers grip something.
A loud high yell shredded the dark. Jack heard a thrashing sound, branches shaking, twigs snapping. The yell soared even higher, became an angry yammering.
Fennel turned and brought her big hand down. Something was squirming and squawking in her grasp. Hedda stepped out from the shadows, her jagged spear ready to impale whatever it was.
"Now would you take your hands off me you clumsy great freak!" The thing in Fennel's hand squirmed and kicked, to no avail.
"Can't a fellow enjoy a quiet nap without being waylaid and hoisted forty feet?"
Hedda jammed the lance up against it and the voice cut off.
"You were following us," she said.
"No I never was," it protested, still kicking and wriggling. "I was having forty winks and minding my own business. And anyway, I'm waiting for friends of mine."
Jack stepped up to where Hedda and Fennel stood. He looked up.
Gilligan Rune the Cluricaun floated above his head, suspended in mid-air. Fennel's fingers gripped the collar of his jacket. The little fellow was doing his best to get free, but having no success whatsoever.
"Rune!" Jack cried. "What are you doing here?"
"I told them, I was waiting for you." He kicked at Fennel's wrist.
"Now would you put me down or suffer the consequences," he squawked. "You're not too big to be taught a lesson."
"He is a friend of ours," Jack said. Fennel shrugged and opened her fingers. Rune dropped twelve feet, bounced like a rubber ball and was on his feet, fists up in front of his face, a featherweight ready for a scrap.
"Come on then. Take me in a fair fight."
Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "These are friends of mine too."
"Some friends. Spoiling a fellow's beauty sleep without so much as a how'd-ye-do!"
He turned as Hedda stepped out of the shadow and he saw her face for the first time.
"Och, it's yourself, Lady Scatha," Rune cried. "Now why didn't you just show yourself and save all this fuss and bother."
"Master Rune," Hedda said. "It's been many a year."
"Too many," Rune said. He stuck a diminutive hand out and shook hers vigorously, beaming from ear to ear. His shrewish rage evaporated instantly.
"You're far from your misty isle, but just the lady I've been looking for." He turned to Fennel. "Miss McNally too. I didn't recognise you in the dark. Still turning a keen blade I hope?"
"Hello Rune," Fennel said, laughing. "We heard you snoring like a horse. You'd make a truly bad guardsman."
"Well, you woke me up, for sure. Now do the decent thing and give me something hot to warm my bones. You wouldn't by chance have a jar of poteen, would you? Or maybe a keg of porter?"
Rune ate and drank a prodigious amount for such a small fellow. He wiped his mouth on a sleeve and then brushed his whiskers clean.
"Now that makes a Cluricaun feel ten feet tall, Fennel," he said. "You always could put heart back in a man." He nodded across at Finn. "I see you too have met. I had always planned to introduce you, but Lady Hedda's island is the devil of a place to find."
"And Jack here, armed to the teeth." He winked. "I hope you found the boots to your liking, you and Kerry."
"They got us out of a few scrapes," Kerry said. "I'm going in for the Olympics when I get back."
"Well, whatever they are, I wish you good speed."
"Speed? I'm like Billy Whizz, man. Fastest boy on two legs."
Rune quaffed another giant jug of ale, sighed gratefully, belched politely, and turned to Hedda.
"I was hoping you'd join this little shebang," he said. "I've been waiting here three days for you. There's platoons and brigades marching all over Eirinn. You can hardly get moving on the roads."
"We met one of them," Hedda said. "They lent us their horses."
"Kind of them," Rune said, with a twinkle on his eye. "I hope you let a few of them leave on foot."
"So it's well met by what should be moonlight, except I haven't seen moonlight or sunshine for so long I'm beginning to think I dreamt it up long ago. I take it you have a direction?"
"We're going to Tara Hill," Corriwen said. "Wherever that is."
"Sure, haven't you got that clever book of yours?"
"We've got the harp," Connor said. "Kerry re-strung it. It sings to Jack."
"Ah, that fair music's been gone so long. It's song will be weak for lack of practice. But here we are, on the road. So we might as well travel together and see what transpires."
"That might be a long hard road for a little fellow like yourself," Fennel said, kindly. "And at the end of it, Dermott waits."
"Dermott's a buffoon. He's never seen what a Cluricaun can do when he's roused."
"I can't wait," Kerry murmured and Connor and Jack fell about laughing again.