Day 17 of Midwinter, Sunset

Túr Crochta, The Deep Realm

Annwn

It had been hours since Ethlinn’s cryptic command to “ready myself.” What had she meant? Would Corb or his men plan to kill me in my sleep? I shook my head. They would know that killing me would be a temporary solution, a fool’s errand at best…That is, unless they used the spear. A cold chill ran through me. Was it possible Corb knew the relics were god-killers?

There were no loud footsteps to warn me of the arrival of the Mná na Mara. At the barely audible snick of a key in the lock, I looked up to find only Dubhlinn slipping through the doorway. She quietly closed the door behind her and stood before me, just out of reach. I looked Corb’s mother up and down, wondering if she had come to finish what he wished he could do himself. Though armed, she did not carry the Spear of Destiny.

“Cai Maccán,” she began, as she slowly slid her sword from its sheath. She was human, even smaller than me, but her brown skin sat tight over rippling, sinewy muscles, making it clear she was no stranger to battle. Even so, the sword that she held looked massive in her small hands.

“The Mná na Mara have deliberated for hours over the best course of action for our people.”

“And you volunteered to do Corb’s dirty work,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain for her son.

Fast as lightning, she came forward and slapped me. “The mother in me wants to run this blade across your throat, but you and I both know that would do no good.”

Shocked at the suddenness of her slap, I held myself still, waiting for whatever came next.

“But,” she continued, “a mother has a higher calling.”

I looked closer at her, suddenly noticing the discomfort in her stance and the large blade she carried. It was Orna! How had Dubhlinn gotten hold of Tethra’s blade?

I raised my eyes from the sword to meet her own. She nodded, seeming to know the question I couldn’t seem to force past my lips.

“Corb presented it to Morvra in an attempt to quench the fire in her heart.”

I laughed out loud and shook my head. “Nothing will ever quench that fire. I saw it in her eyes. She will never be parted with that ache in her heart… and neither will I.”

“I know…” Dubhlinn began pacing the small length of the cell. “That is why what I’m about to do is so difficult for me.” She carefully placed the sword against the wall before rummaging through her pockets and withdrawing a crumpled letter.

“This is what eventually convinced us of our course of action.” The letter in her hands had been opened and pored over—by whom, I didn't know. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ nοvelfire.net

“What is it?” I asked the woman, suddenly afraid. Dubhlinn said nothing but held out the letter to me. She was well within my reach now but seemed to have no fear that I might attack her, take the key, and make my escape with Orna.

Looking down at the writing, I knew why. The letter had been written by Tethra. I snatched it from the smaller woman’s hand and began to read.

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Béstin, my beloved,

If you are reading this, I have lost the duel, and your worst fears about Corb were correct. He has killed me and taken the mantle of King.

The truth is, I believed all along that you were right about my brother. But I could not let myself believe that kin would slay kin, for any reason. Despite what I know of his character, and despite my own scars, I know that I do not have it in me to kill Corb. You knew this about me, and that is why you worried.

I suppose being right does not afford any relief in this case, because even writing this is breaking my heart. Thinking of a time when we will not be together brings me pain like I have never felt. Know that I love you, and I will continue to love you, even from the shadows of Uffern.

I wonder what your fate will be when and if you read this letter. In your grief, I fear that you will act rashly and end up imprisoned or killed. But you cannot…you must overcome! Our people need you, and you do not have the luxury of sacrificing yourself for revenge.

There is a truth that I never told you, Béstin. My father believed he knew your true parentage, and he shared that with me before he died. I kept this secret from you because I knew you wanted nothing to do with a political life…and perhaps, because I selfishly wanted to keep you for myself just a little bit longer.

Father believed that the children of the Cold Moon were the offspring of Prince Elatha through his lost daughter, Briomhaith.

If you ever loved me, and I know that you did, there is one last thing I must ask of you before I set you free. It is a heavy burden, but one that I know you can bear, because you must. Take your place as rightful king. Rule our people with the wisdom that I have seen in you… that my father saw in you.

Do this for me, and for our people, because they need you as I needed you. Do this for me because I love you, and because it is the last favor I will ask of you.

Yours forever, Tethra

Tears ran down my face as I finished the letter. My heart began to burn with renewed fire as I pressed the letter to my chest and stared at the woman before me.

Her face proud, Dubhlinn opened her clenched fist to show a key. With her other hand, she angrily dashed away her own tears. “A mother’s higher purpose is to teach her child life lessons. The most important lesson of all is about consequences… My son has gone too far this time. YOU are his consequence.”

She again held out the key to my manacles, but I did not move to take it, my mind still reeling. I felt broken and confused. No part of me could have anticipated what was happening.

“Take it,” Dubhlinn said, more forcefully, before adding in a softer tone, "Comhthíreach.”

“Countryman…” I felt outside of myself, as if I were watching my hand reach out to take the keys. As soon as I did, the proud woman seemed to shrink in on herself. Her shoulders slumped, and the small woman turned and left the cell, leaving the door slightly cracked.

Dubhlinn, mother to Corb, had brought me my freedom and the blade that she must know would kill her son. She had done it with the consent of the Mná na Mara. The purpose of such a group was clearer to me than it had ever been. The Women of the Sea were the balancing force for my people, no matter what it might cost them personally.

I had already known from my trance that Briomhaith, the woman in Hy-Brasil that I had seen on the mossy hills, was my mother. I knew that she was the daughter of Prince Elatha. What I had never truly considered was what this meant…that my parentage made me the rightful heir of Neit through Elatha, his first son. The question was, would I do as Tethra asked, and claim that right and responsibility?

I knew the answer. Tethra had asked it of me… so it would be done. I allowed myself one more brief moment of grief, then squared my shoulders. I quickly unlocked my shackles and stretched my wrists and legs. Even in the soft light of the lichen on the walls, Orna shone like the gem that her name implied.

I wrapped my hand tightly about the grip that Tethra had held so many times. This was the blade that should have killed Corb. Tethra might not have allowed herself to kill her brother, but I would not have the same hesitation. There would be no duel, no rules that would stay my hand. I would use all my strength and power to kill Tethra’s murderer.

I knew what I needed to do, but also that Corb likely now had the spear. He would try to kill me, just as I intended to kill him. In fact, this whole scenario might have been a trap, a set-up for Corb to justify killing me. I realized it didn’t matter. There was nothing else to be done.

I stepped quietly from my cell in Túr Crochta and began to travel the short distance to the throne room where I knew Corb and those loyal to him would be waiting.