There was a great deal to be done.The wounded still lay in what had been the chapel, and needed attention. The folk of the settlement were getting ready to go home, bearing their dead with them.And the materials for the ritual must be prepared. Fianchu had been laid to rest down at the farm, and now both Magnus and a red-eyed Olcan turned their attention to helping with the preparations. Magnus collected the herbs we needed. I remembered the names of only two or three of them, but the wise woman offered her grave advice as to which would aid the transition between worlds. Olcan obtained clean sand from a supply at the farm. Under my directions he marked out the pentagram with its enclosing snakelike circle. The wise woman went to harvest the herb called goldenwood. No matter, she said, that it was not the sixth day of the moon—gathered with the correct form of words, the herb would be equally effective. She was away for some time before walking out of the forest with the small branch across her outstretched hands.
These activities halted for a while when Brión of Whiteshore and Fergal of Silverlake came up the Tor to greet Anluan and to tell him Lord Stephen’s forces had withdrawn from all three territories. The two chieftains drank some of our mead and spoke of the future. If there was a slight unease in their demeanor, it was well concealed, and their manner toward Anluan was both courteous and respectful. Anluan agreed that a council should be called before winter weather made traveling too difficult. Stephen de Courcy would likely be only the first of many upstart foreigners wanting a bite of good Connacht land. Mention was made of Ruaridh Uí Conchubhair, and of how things might be different if one of his sons took his place as high king.The local leaders must stand strong and united until that time came. I listened intently as I smiled and passed around the mead, but my mind was on tonight, the ritual, Aislinn. Where was she? Did she still possess some means to undo our efforts?
The visiting chieftains did not stay long. Each was keen to head home with his fighting men now the job was done. Anluan thanked them for their support and expressed his deep regret for their losses. Brión left us two healers who had accompanied his army, since he knew our household was small and would be stretched in providing the necessary support for those who lay wounded. When our visitors were gone, we bade farewell to the folk of the settlement, who were ready to leave the Tor. Tomorrow, Anluan said, we would go down and attend a ritual for their dead. After time for mourning, he would be wanting to speak with them about the future. I saw that already new leaders were stepping up to take the places of Tomas and Orna. Duald, who had once been so afraid of a wandering scribe, was one of them, and Orna’s friend Sionnach seemed to be speaking up on behalf of the women.There would be a path forwards for all of us. If the counterspell worked; if Aislinn had been right about it. If I had remembered correctly. If nothing else got in the way. Seeing the hope in the eyes of Gearróg and Cathaír and the others, I prayed that I had not made a terrible mistake.
As dusk fell, the host began to gather in the courtyard: men, women and children in little groups or alone, waiting. The buzz of excited talk that had broken out earlier in the day was gone, replaced by a hush of anticipation. Anluan had told me he wanted to talk to the host before the ritual began, and he was doing so now. He wasn’t making the kind of grand speech people expect a victorious chieftain to deliver on his return home. Instead, he was walking among them, a tall figure clad all in black, giving each in turn what time he could, listening to each, telling each how sorry he was that his ancestor’s ill deed had condemned them to a hundred years of misery. I watched their faces from where I stood with Magnus by the circle. I saw no anger there, no sorrow, only respect, acknowledgment and a dawning hope.
“What if Muirne doesn’t make an appearance?” Magnus asked quietly. “It sounds as if it can’t succeed without her.”
I had discussed this point with Anluan at some length: what Aislinn’s part must be, whether she should stand in the center again and what would happen to her if she did. She would not be willing. She’d have to be coerced to take her place, and that felt wrong to me.
“She’ll do it if I bid her,” Anluan had said. “Caitrin, the girl is a murderess several times over. She must be banished with the rest of them. If Nechtan’s spell of summoning required her to stand in the middle of the pentagram, then we must do that again.”