11: Flight From Tara

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#CC9900" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="047005a0dwnjzk.gif"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U><B>home</B></U></A><B>     | </B><B> </B><B> </B><B>  </B><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Arial" ><B>Cassie's Writing</B></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Surprise Encounter"><U><B>1:  Surprise Encounter</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id26.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Proscribed Venerable Love"><U><B>2:  A Proscribed Venerable Love</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id27.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Stalked by the Vampire"><U><B>3:  Stalked by the Vampire</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Flight to the Auld Country"><U><B>4:  Flight to the Auld Country</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id29.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Ally From Nowhere"><U><B>5:  Ally From Nowhere</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe Peopl"><U><B>6:  Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe People</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id31.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="7: The Middle Kingdom"><U><B>7:  The Middle Kingdom</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: My Lady Healer"><U><B>8:  My Lady Healer</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id33.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Triple Betrayal"><U><B>9:  Triple Betrayal</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id34.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="10: A World Apart"><U><B>10:  A World Apart</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><B>11:  Flight From Tara</B><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id36.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: Imbas Forosna"><U><B>12:  Imbas Forosna</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id37.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="13: Wheel of Fortune"><U><B>13:  Wheel of Fortune</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id38.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="14: Wednesday, the Best Day of All"><U><B>14:  Wednesday, the Best Day of All</B></U></A></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>11:  Flight From Tara</B></div> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div>       Quentin could only run for so long before he found himself being forced to slow down, the bruise on his hip causing him to limp.  I should have let Julia take it away, he thought mournfully.  Worse, now that the sun was up and climbing, he was beginning to feel hungry.  The rough road he'd been travelling on had dwindled to a mere path through a thick wooded area.  When he came out on the other side, he realized he was lost.  There was no path.  He could hear voices though-men crying out encouraging words to someone or something.</div> <div>      This is a farm, he thought to himself, looking at the stones and posts piled up before him.  It made a rough sort of boundary and was crested with blackthorns.  It was definitely not something to try and climb over, he thought to himself.  He walked along the wall, looking for an opening.  As he walked along, he could see the men now-I'm right, this is a farm, he thought.  </div> <div>      Two men were plowing with an iron plowshare pulled by oxen.  One moved away from Quentin; the other was coming toward him.  There were other men in the field as well, chopping at the ground with primitive looking hoes.   Quentin continued to walk along the wall, looking for some kind of opening.  He soon realized that one parcel of land was walled off from another with the same pile of stones topped with thorns.  Sighing, he judged the height to be about three feet of stone, with another three or four inches of thorns.  He could jump it if he tried-not that he really wanted to, but he supposed he had no other choice.</div> <div>      He backed up about twenty feet and then began a limping run at an angle toward the wall.  As he approached it, he jumped as if he were leaping over a hurdle in a race.  He was pleased when he easily cleared the thorns; they looked downright painful.  His bruised hip wasn't even bothering him so much now that he was over the wall.  He walked toward the men, hoping they'd be able to tell him where he was and where he could get something to eat.  As he came closer, one of the men saw him and gave a cry.  Everyone stopped and turned to look at him cautiously.</div> <div>      He smiled, trying to appear friendly.  “Hello!” he called.  “I'm lost.”</div> <div>      “That you are,” said one of the men with a hoe.  “And what has happened to you, then?”</div> <div>      Quentin thought quickly and answered, “I was careless running through the woods back there. I ran into a tree.” He was grateful that no one disputed that blatantly ridiculous story.</div> <div>  “I've never seen you before.  Where are you from?” another man asked.</div> <div>      “I'm from, uh, well, I'm from the west,” Quentin answered lamely.  He realized he didn't know the name of the Fir Bolg settlement.</div> <div>      “Connacht?” one of the men who'd been plowing asked in surprise.</div> <div>      Quentin thought he might as well tell the truth.  “Yes-from that province.”</div> <div>      “And where are you bound, lad?”  The man with the plow asked.  He was the eldest of the men; his hair was long and silvery.  He was probably the one in charge, Quentin decided.</div> <div>      “To Tara, sir,” he answered.  “I'm looking for my-my betrothed.”</div> <div>      The other men exchanged looks.  The man with the silver hair studied Quentin silently for a moment.  “Tara, eh?  To the High King?  Your betrothed must be a very important lady.  What did you say your name was, lad?”</div> <div>      “Quentin.  And yes-my lady is special.  She's a healer.”</div> <div>      The men nodded in a seemingly approving way.  Quentin was relieved.  The man with the silver hair said, “Quentin?  A strange name.  Are you a Fir Bolg?”</div> <div>      “No, sir, I'm not,” Quentin answered.  He didn't really want to say where he was from yet.  “I'm sorry, you have the advantage of me.  I don't know who you are.”</div> <div>      “I am called Eoghan.  You are on our fine.”</div> <div>      Fine?  Quentin thought.  “Your what, sir?  I thought this was a farm?”</div> <div>      “Yes, lad, it is.  A fine is all our farms together,” Eoghan explained.</div> <div>      Oh, thought Quentin, like a commune.  “I see.  Are you far from Tara?”</div> <div>      “Not so very far.  In fact, this tract was granted to us by a laird of Tara,” Eoghan answered.  “I think you might be hungry, appearing as you have on the road and it's still so early.  I see no provisions upon you.  Would you care to have a bite to eat before you go on your way?”</div> <div>      “Thank you, I would,” Quentin answered, relieved.</div> <div>      “Cillian!” Eoghan called.  The man with the hoe stepped forward.  “Take Quentin to the rath.  Perhaps Aoife still has something left in the bruiden.”</div> <div>      “Yes, Father,” the man said obediently.  He turned to Quentin and said politely, “Come with me, won't you?”  Quentin followed Cillian, his anticipation for food and drink making him deaf to what Eoghan said to one of the other men.</div> <div>      “Go to Tara and find the druid, Colm.  Tell him of the stranger here and ask him to tell High King Niall!”</div> <bR> <div>      Julia allowed Daoirdre to palpate her belly even though it made her feel queasy.  Just as she'd felt Quentin's seed and her ova coming together, she'd felt the cells implanting themselves into her uterine wall.  It was unnerving.  She hadn't felt like eating that morning in spite of Daoirdre's encouragement.  “Well?  It's just morning sickness,” Julia said finally, when Daoirdre remained silent.</div> <div>      “You wouldn't feel sick now, it's too soon,” Daoirdre objected mildly, looking Julia in the eye.  “You need to nourish yourself and the children as much as you can.”</div> <div>      Julia felt faint at heart.  She'd suspected that she was carrying more than one child; had felt the physical division of the cells, and she'd definitely felt more than one group of cells attaching themselves to her.  Counting them as they occurred, her mind began to boggle at the numbers she was coming up with.  “Twins?” she asked, hopefully.</div> <div>      Daoirdre looked a little grim.  “Do you not know for sure?”</div> <div>      Julia did a little division in her head.  “Four?”  When Daoirdre nodded silently, Julia felt her head begin to spin.  She put her hand to her forehead.  She didn't realize she'd begun to gasp until she found Daoirdre bending over her, looking terribly concerned.  “It can't be!” she exclaimed, dismayed.</div> <div>      “All things are possible, Lady Julia,” Daoirdre demurred.</div> <div>      Julia protested:  “I should be going through menopause!” When Daoirdre looked puzzled, Julia cast about for a way of explaining.  “The monthly courses-they stopped.  Do you know what I mean?”</div> <div>      “Ah, yes!” Daoirdre exclaimed, understanding now.  “But they haven't stopped long?”</div> <div> “No, but they still stopped.  I didn't think it was possible to-unless things are different here?”</div> <div> “Julia, here in Brugh all women are fertile,” Daoirdre explained, looking embarrassed.</div> <div>      Julia groaned inwardly.  Was it possible to be this fertile, though?  Quadruplets?  “Surely not every woman has multiple births?” Julia exclaimed, her voice rising with disbelief.</div> <div>      Daoirdre shook her head.  “No.  Not like this.  I think it is because you are of the Other World and your body is not used to Brugh.  If you haven't been having your monthly courses, it could be that coming into this world has released many eggs in your body.”</div> <div>      “I can't do this!” Julia muttered, panicking.</div> <div>      “It would not be good for you,” Daoirdre agreed calmly.  “You have never had a child?”</div> <div>      “No.”  Julia's eyes narrowed suspiciously.  She'd meant she couldn't deal with the idea of a multiple pregnancy right now.  But what on earth was Daoirdre talking about?  “What do you mean-what you said, Daoirdre?”</div> <div>      “Four babies will put a tremendous strain on you-you are not of our world,” Daoirdre answered.  She looked worried but smiled reassuringly when she saw fear rising in Julia's eyes.  “Don't worry.  We would not allow anything to happen to you or to any of your children.  Children are Mother Danu's gift to us.  Above all, we value our children.”</div> <div>      “I see,” Julia muttered.  Quadruplets!  At my age!  She was horrified.  She knew the risks of late pregnancy in the modern world of 1970.  It was so primitive here-what was she to do?</div> <div>      Sensing her fear, Daoirdre put a reassuring hand on Julia's arm.  “You will be all right.  The children will be all right.  You must trust me-and you must try to eat or drink something.  Can you sit up if I help you?”</div> <div>      “I'm not sure I'm over the shock yet,” Julia answered.  Daoirdre laughed lightly, her voice sounding like a musical tone.  Julia smiled too and suddenly felt safe.  She couldn't explain why-it was just a feeling of well being that suddenly almost overwhelmed her.  “Help me, please.  I do think I can sit up now.”</div> <div>      As Daoirdre helped Julia sit up, she asked:  “You have not told your man Quentin yet?”</div> <div>      “I really haven't had a chance-it only just happened,” Julia answered.  She blushed-this was really personal information. Daoirdre brought a tray over to Julia.  There was bread and honey, with creamy butter on the side.  There was also a cup of milk.  Julia thought she could manage it. “I didn't expect to feel it-like this,” she said finally.  “Have you had any children, Daoirde?”</div> <div> “Not yet,” Daoirdre answered, ducking her head.  Of course not, Julia thought, you're just a child.  She felt silly asking the young girl questions, but there was no one else around. “Daoirdre, here in Brugh-does pregnancy last nine or ten months?”</div> <div> “If you mean lunar cycles, yes, it is the same here,” Daoirdre answered.  “I think you'd like to talk to one of my sisters-they've had babies.  And you'll need a midwife, and you'll need to talk to another healer about the babies-that there are so many of them.  We need to do something about that.”</div> <div>      “I know that Quentin is coming back for me,” Julia said, interrupting the flow of words.  She wasn't sure what Daoirdre meant by doing something about the babies.  She couldn't mean abort them-this was Ireland, after all.  She looked at Daoirdre carefully.  “Barnabas will come for you, too.”</div> <div>      At that, Daoirdre flushed, looking pleased.  “I am honored that my Lord Dearg-due deems me worthy.”</div> <div>      “We have to be careful, though,” Julia continued.  “Jason McGuire wants to do harm to Barnabas.”</div> <div>      “Yes,” Daoirdre answered softly.  “The Leanhaum-sidhe.”</div> <div>      “What will we do?” Julia asked, her eyes widening with surprise.  Of course I should have known that she would sense it, she thought.  She looks so much like Roxanne.</div> <div>      “When your man comes for you, take me with you,” Daoirdre said softly.</div> <div>      “Quentin?  Is he coming now?  With Barnabas, you mean?  And Willie?”</div> <div>      “He is coming now, and he is alone.  He has run away from my Lord Dearg-due,” Daoirdre answered.  She shook her head.  “I think my Lord is very displeased.”</div> <div>      “How do you know these things?” Julia marveled.</div> <div>      Daoirde answered patiently, “These are things you know too, Lady Julia.  You have only to open your mind and your heart to the Goddess Anu.  Then you will hear the birds speak to you when they sing, and the trees will sigh to you when the wind turns their leaves, and the fish will give you their secrets as well when they leap into the sunlight.  You have already given your secrets to Quentin.  He knows to come here.”</div> <div>      Surprised again, Julia said, “I was merely thinking about him.”</div> <div>      “You have such power-you do not even begin to realize the extent of it,” Daoirdre said gently.  “Your thoughts reached out to Rios, the dryad, and she told Quentin where to find you.”  At Julia's bewildered expression, Daoirdre said reassuringly again, “Do not worry.  I will teach you to focus your power.  You will see what I mean, and then you will know what I know.”</div> <div>      Julia nodded and took a bite of her bread and honey.  She was ready and eager to learn.</div> <bR> <div>      Quentin and Cillian walked across the field together.  Cillian didn't seem disposed to talk, so Quentin asked, “How large is your farm?”</div> <div>      “Our portion is four acres,” Cillian replied.  He looked at Quentin with a puzzled expression.  “But the folk in Connacht follow the sons of a living father, too, do they not?”</div> <div>      Quentin had no idea what Cillian meant.  He was tempted to say, “Look, help me out here, I'm a stranger in a strange land!” with apologies to Robert Heinlein but he didn't want to reveal the fact that he was from Sithein.  He didn't know how Cillian would react to that.  He answered instead:  “I'm afraid I'm a visitor-I'm here to see distant relatives.  I'm ignorant of the ways here.”</div> <div>      Cillian nodded but didn't say anything one way or the other.  After a moment, he said, “Our laird gave a parcel of land to our fine.  Our portion comes to four acres.  My father has brothers-they have four acres each, too.”</div> <div>      “What about you?  Same thing?”</div> <div>      Cillian smiled.  “We don't get our portions while Father is alive.  You really are a visitor from far away, aren't you?  Our grandfather is the head of the fine.  Father has three brothers, and my uncles all have sons.  My brothers and I live with our father; my cousins live with my uncles.  The land is not divided until the death of Father-then our youngest brother will divide the land into portions.”</div> <div>      Quentin didn't think he liked the sound of this.  He was already under the impression that no one died around here-but they had to.  Where would all the people live if babies were born, grew up, and never died?  “So you are dependant on your father right now, is that right?”</div> <div>      “That is the way of sons of a living father,” Cillian replied with a shrug.</div> <div>      Ugh, thought Quentin, looking closely at Cillian.  He thought Cillian seemed to be in his late twenties or thirties.  “Are you married?” he asked.</div> <div>      “I will be next year,” Cillian answered proudly.  “I am building my addition now.”</div> <div>      They'd come to a rough, wooden bridge of sorts.  It crossed a moat and led to a small fortified island.  Quentin could see three round huts within the circular island.  Running around the island was a wattled fence, intricately weaved together to make a formidable fort.  The round huts were small-they were no more than 20 feet wide, Quentin judged, and made from posts and wattle as well.  “What's this?” Quentin asked.</div> <div>      Cillian looked at him, surprised.  “Our rath-our home,” he explained.  He walked on ahead of Quentin, calling, “Mother!  Saibh!” Three children spilled out of one the circular huts, looking at Quentin with frank curiosity.</div> <div>      “What is it then, Cillian?”  A woman about Eoghan's age emerged.  “Ah, a guest, then?”</div> <div>      “Yes, mam, and he's hungry,” Cillian told her.  “I'm to take him to Tara-are there any leavings?”</div> <div>      “Yes-please come in,” the woman smiled at Quentin, standing back to allow him to enter the hut.  </div> <div>      It was dark inside and smelly, too, Quentin thought, his nose wrinkling a little.  There were rushes spread onto the floor and tiny windows cut into the walls to let in some light.  The familiar bruiden pot sat over the dying embers of the hearth fire.  A younger woman knelt before the fire, scraping at the bruiden with a wooden spoon.  Startled, she looked over her shoulder at Quentin.  She was beautiful, with thick dark hair that flowed over her shoulders.  Quentin realized the children, the older woman and Cillian had followed him in.  The children pushed forward, staring.  The young woman stood up, smiling shyly, and even as Quentin smiled back all temptations to flirt with her immediately went right out of his mind: she was very pregnant.  He thought again, if they don't die, how can they all live here?  They'd run out of room.</div> <div>      “Hello,” Quentin said to all of them, realizing suddenly that Cillian hadn't introduced him.  “My name is Quentin.  I'm a visitor here-I was on my way to Tara, and I came across your farm.  I met Eoghan, and he said I might be able to get something to eat.”</div> <div>      “Of course you can,” the older woman exclaimed, giving her son a reproving glance.  “I am called Aoife, Quentin, and this is my good daughter,  Saibh.  These youngsters belong to my other son,  Aodhan and my good daughter, Neasa.  Sit down, sit down, Quentin.”</div> <div>      “Thanks,” he said, sitting down gratefully.  The house was so tiny, he thought.  Where did they all sleep?  He realized the funny smell was from old food and unwashed bodies.  He thought he'd never take bathing for granted again as Saibh placed a bowl before him.  She brought him a cup of milk.</div> <div>      “I'm afraid we've only winter food to offer still,” Aoife said apologetically.  “We've only begun the plowing.”</div> <div>      Quentin realized he was having a breakfast of very salty pork, porridge, and some green stuff.  He didn't care at first; he was really hungry.  He didn't think this green stuff could be spinach, especially now that Aoife mentioned that they'd only begun plowing and tilling the land.  “What is this?” he asked, finally, between bites, holding up a spoonful of the green stringy stuff.</div> <div>      “Sea lettuce,” Saibh answered.</div> <div>      Sea lettuce?  Quentin wondered if that was seaweed, suddenly feeling a little queasy.  After the wonderful and succulent food he'd been enjoying with the Fir Bolg, he realized that not everyone in the Middle Kingdom lived in such luxuriant wealth.  He supposed there must be poor Fir Bolg farmers, too.  He realized Aoife was speaking, and turned his attention to her.  He'd caught the word, Beltane, recognizing it as a Celtic holy day.  It was celebrated around the first of May, which must be a couple of months away if they'd only begun the spring planting.  “After the fire feast,  we'll have the booleying,” she was saying, apparently in answer to a question from one of the children.</div> <div>      “Will you come back?” the child asked Quentin, smiling in an open, friendly manner.</div> <div>      Quentin smiled back, charmed.  “Maybe.”</div> <div>      “Oh, you'd like the booleying,” the child went on.  “We'd let you help drive the cattle up into the mountains.”</div> <div>      “That's not a man's work!” Cillian scolded mildly.  He, too, was smiling.</div> <div>      The child looked a little embarrassed.  “Well, it's only I thought he might enjoy it, being a stranger an all.”</div> <div>      “Thanks for thinking of me,” Quentin said.  He was finished eating and as much as he liked socializing and being in the company of these people, he did want to push on and find Julia.  He turned to Aoife and Saibh.  “Ladies, I thank you.  That was delicious.”  They looked pleased.</div> <div>      “Come on, then,” Cillian said.  “I know you'd like to be on your way.”  He led Quentin to the smallest of the round huts.  “We keep our animals here,” he said over his shoulder.  “A horse,  seven cows, a bull, seven pigs, and seven sheep.”  The number was exact, so Quentin supposed this must be the sons of a living father rule again.  “Can you ride double?”</div> <div>      He never had, but he supposed so.  “Sure,” he answered.  Cillian threw a blanket over the back of the fine looking mare and hopped onto her back.  He reached down.  Quentin grabbed his arm and climbed onto the mare behind Cillian.  He put his hands lightly on the man's shoulders, feeling just a little foolish.  Well, the family couldn't help it-they only had one horse.  “What happens if the whole family needs to go somewhere?” he asked.</div> <div>      “We share with the other folk in the fine-or we walk,” Cillian replied, kicking the mare's sides lightly to get her to trot.  “It's not far, Quentin,  we'll be there soon.”</div> <div>      Good, Quentin thought, relieved.  “How big is this Tara?”  He wondered if it would be easy to find Julia.  Cillian quickly dispelled that hope.  Quentin knew that Tara was the traditional home of the High King, but the pictures he'd seen of it in travel books showed an abandoned hill.  He knew about the Stone of Destiny, that giant phallic symbol which supposedly screamed in recognition of the High King to be coronated.  Apparently the calamity that had befallen Tara in Sithein hadn't happened here in Brugh.  Quentin made a face, thinking.  “Have you ever been inside the High King's quarters?” he asked.  He suspected that was where Jason would have taken Julia and Daoirdre.</div> <div>      “Upon my honor, no!” Cillian sounded positively shocked.  </div> <div>      What a stupid question, Quentin thought dourly.  Of course he wouldn't-he's a peasant.  I'm just going to have to figure it out for myself.  Julia, where are you? He thought.  I'll be there soon-why don't you give me a sign?  It was a half-kidding, self-deprecatory thought so he was very much surprised when an image came back to him-she was a room within the druid Colm's home-she wasn't with the High King after all!  Bet he'd be easier to find, Quentin thought to himself.  Druids were the celebrities of the early Celtic world.  He brightened considerably.</div> <bR> <div>      Julia and Daoirdre could hear the excited whispering of the servant telling the High Priest, Colm, that there was a visitor from a neighboring farm who'd come with news of a travelling stranger.  Looking at each other, the women realized that the stranger must be Quentin and crept nearer the entrance of their chamber to listen.  They could hear the man excitedly describing the stranger: tall, dark hair, one bright blue eye, the other one bruised and swollen shut; he looked like a Milesian and didn't seem to know much of the Good Folks' ways.  “My father worries that this might have some evil portent for the High King,” the man finished rapidly.  “He obviously has been in a battle with someone.  He claims to have run into a tree!  Fancy that!”</div> <div>      “You have done well to give me this news, Aodhan.  Give your father my felicitations,” Colm answered softly. Julia strained to hear him and then realized she didn't need to.  She closed her eyes and concentrated, as Daoirdre had taught her to do that morning.  She heard Quentin's question in her mind and automatically telegraphed an image to her lover of the place she was staying.  She knew Quentin would hear her somehow.</div> <div>      Now Colm was preparing for some kind of ceremony.  It was called imbas forosna, and Julia realized that it meant “the knowledge that enlightens”-it was  ritual to foretell the future.  Concentrating, Julia saw servants bringing raw dog flesh to the Druid.  Her stomach churned with revulsion as she “saw” the Druid pick up a piece of the meat and put it into his mouth to chew.  She covered her mouth, fearing she would be sick.</div> <div>      “It's all right,” Daoirdre whispered to her reassuringly.</div> <div>      Julia shuddered.  “Why is he doing that?” she whispered back, fighting off waves of nausea.</div> <div>      “He won't swallow it,” Daoirdre said, as if that was supposed to make Julia feel better.  “He will chew it until it is pliable, and then he will place it upon the flagstones.  He will press the palms of his hands together and pray for a vision.  When he sleeps tonight, he will press his palms to his face-to bring on a vision in his dreams.”</div> <div>      “What sort of vision is he looking for?” Julia asked.</div> <div>      Daoirdre leaned forward to whisper into Julia's ear, apparently afraid she would be overheard:  “He knows your Quentin is coming for you-he wants to see if that is for good or for evil.”</div> <div>      Julia drew back, staring at Daoirdre with wide eyes.  She  was frightened. Since Jason brought her here, it was obvious that Colm would be looking for signs of evil. What if Quentin was caught?   </div> <div> Someone else had come into the dwelling-Jason McGuire!  One of the servants whispered to the visitor, explaining that Colm was performing the imbas forosna.  Julia sensed the pookah-now in human form-crossing the outer chambers.  “Ladies, are ye decent?  Would you welcome a visitor right now?” he called to them, very pleasantly.  His voice had a slight wheedling tone that Julia found distasteful.  Daoirdre nodded slightly.</div> <div>      “Come in,” Julia called back.  The two women backed into the room and sat before the fire.</div> <div>      “Well, then, how are you, my lovely ladies?  Comfortable?”  Jason asked, his voice sounding pleasant.  He could be quite charming, all right, Julia thought.  She realized that he was actually a very attractive man.</div> <div>      “As comfortable as can be, considering we're you're guests under duress,” Julia answered, just a bit tartly.</div> <div>      Jason laughed, a trifle unpleasantly.  “Well, we do what we must, don't we, my dear?  Besides, you most certainly are not a guest under duress here.  You're a cousin of the High King, my dear, Niall ui Neill.”</div> <div>      “Why haven't I met him, then?”  Julia asked putting some disdain into her voice.  She wasn't sure she believed Jason in the first place, but she didn't mind goading him.</div> <div>      “Oh, you will,” Jason assured her.</div> <div>      “I don't know that I can take the word of a pookah,” Julia disagreed.</div> <div>      Jason looked annoyed.  “Now, then, just how do you know that, then?  What do you know of pookahs?”</div> <div>      “Well, that they're mischievous animals,” Julia returned.  “It's not so different from what you were at Collinwood, is it?”</div> <div>      Jason burst out laughing.  Julia couldn't be sure whether he was enjoying the exchanges or not.  “I've a story for you,” he said.  Julia sighed.  “Oh, don't worry, my dear, you must be patient.  We've some time before Colm finishes his divination rites.”  His eyes gleamed at Julia.  “It will be good to see your Quentin again, my lady-we have a lot to talk about.”</div> <div>      “I'm sure you have nothing to talk about,” Julia answered spitefully.  “You're going to try and hurt him, aren't you?”</div> <div>      Jason put on an affronted expression.  “You wound me to my very core!  You really don't know about pookahs, do you?  Pookahs are friendly beings.  They're often helpful-if they're treated well and with kindness.   Let me tell you about my cousin Phadrig.  He was on his way through a field during the booleying-ah, you don't know what that is?  It's the time of the year the cattle are moved to the highlands to graze the summer grass.  Anyway, he was on his way through this field and a poor miller's son calls out to him, `Oh, pookah, pookah, if you'll let me see you, I'll give you this nice gift.'  It was a nice big, warm coat that would keep Phadrig warm, so he decided to show himself as a powerful young bull.</div> <div>      Well, Phadrig says that coat was so nice and thick and warm, so he says to the young man, `Come to the family mill when the full moon rises, Ruairi,  and I'll bring you good luck.'  And so the young man did.  The family mill was all full of sacks of corn, waiting for the milling to begin.  It's hard, backbreaking work, this mill, and grinding the corn was a job Ruairi and his father would have to do.  He waited and waited and finally, he fell asleep.  When he woke up, all the corn had been ground into fine meal.  Well!  The boy knew he hadn't done it, nor had his brothers, nor his father neither.  He came back the next night, and he was determined not to fall asleep and wait.  There was a grain bin inside that mill, and the young man climbed inside to wait and watch.</div> <div>      Around midnight, in comes six little fellows.  Each of them carried a sack of corn on his back.  Last to come in was an old man in rags of clothing-but wearin a fine warm coat!  `Turn the mill!' says he, and the six little men turned and turned until all the corn was ground up again.  Amazing!  What a gift!  So little Ruairi ran in the morning to tell his father what was happening at the mill.  That night, they both climbed into the empty bin and watched the very same thing happen again.</div> <div>      Ruairi didn't tell his father about his kindness to the pookah, though.  He was content to see his father and his family living comfortable like, with plenty of corn to last all through the lean winter months-even long beyond the harvest season.  People living around them wondered, of course, how this could be.  Ruairi's father had plenty to share, though, and so none of them thought to question their good fortune-they were afraid they'd curse themselves and bring an end to it.  And Ruairi's father had plenty of corn meal to spare-plenty to share and plenty to sell.  He grew richer and richer.</div> <div>      Well, Ruairi went out often to watch the faeries at work and as the cold season come on, he began to feel sorry for the six of them and for the old, tattered one especially, who had nothin but the warm coat to keep off the chill.  So he brought them some finery clothes his mother had made for him and his brothers and laid them out for the men before he climbed into his bin to watch them work.</div> <div>      They were so pleased with the finery!  Thing is…they felt they were quite the gentry, much too good to be grinding corn.  Off they all went to see the world.  There was no corn ground that night, nor the next, nor the next after that.  Ruairi never saw them again but you know?  His father had already accumulated so much wealth that he was able to send Ruairi off to school and he became quite the scholar.  Ruairi didn't have to come back and work the land atall.</div> <div>      When he married, his lady was so beautiful that everyone around said she must be a daughter to the king of the faeries.  At the wedding, they all stood up to drink the bride's health. Funny thing happened then.  Ruairi saw a golden cup of wine.  No one knew from whence it came-except for Ruairi.  He knew it was his old friend, the pookah, and so he drank the wine.  After that, his life was happy and prosperous and do you know, he kept that golden cup as a treasure to the family.  To this day, the descendants of Ruairi have it in their possession.”</div> <div> Julia saw that Daoirdre's eyes were shining bright; she was thoroughly enthralled with the tale and sat with a smile on her face as Jason brought it to a close.  Julia, however, felt she knew better.  “Very charming,” she said dryly.  “It sounds remarkably like the tale of the elves and the shoemaker.”</div> <div>      “What?” Jason burst out, truly offended.  His eyes flared red, and Julia drew back, alarmed.  His eyes quickly changed back to sky-blue and he quickly covered his irritation.  “You know, my Lady,” he began mildly, “that many cultures have similar tales.  You know there is more than one version of the Flood?”</div> <div>      “That's true,” Julia agreed, deciding it would be more prudent to mollify Jason.</div> <div>      “It's just that it is our version is correct is all,” Jason said with finality, getting to his feet.  “All the others are copies of our stories, don't you know?”</div> <div>      “Indeed?  I believe you're right,” Julia agreed.  “After all, this is a very ancient culture.”  She smiled appeasingly, and Jason gave her an approving nod. He stood up. “Are you leaving?”</div> <div>      “For the while, yes, I've other matters to attend to.  The High King would like to go for a hunt this day, and it'll be my privilege to carry him.  I'll come back for a nice visit later.”  Jason winked, bowed slightly to both women and left.</div> <div> “He will tell High King Niall about your Quentin,” Daoirdre said softly, looking at Julia.  She reached out and took Julia's arm.  “My dear sister, you trust me, don't you?”</div> <div> Julia was surprised and taken aback.  “Why, yes-I would think that it would be you who would question me about that.”</div> <div> “Your Quentin will be here soon, but you must stop him and give him a message-he won't hear me.”</div> <div> Julia's eyes widened.  “You mean that Jason and the King know that he is coming?”</div> <div> “Yes.  Listen, I will whisper into your ear.  Repeat me words in your mind and send your thoughts out.”</div> <div> “All right,” Julia agreed.  She remembered how she'd communicated with Quentin before and thought it would be easy to do the very same thing; she just hadn't realized he'd heard her.  She repeated Daoirdre's words exactly as she heard them whispered into her ear without understanding way:  “Get off the horse, my love, and run into the woods.  You must get a raven and kill it.  Split the heart with your short-sword.  Make three cuts and place a black bean in each cut.  Plant it, and when the beans sprout, put one in your mouth as say: `By virtue of Satan's heart, and by strength of my great art, I desire to be invisible, and so it will be as long as the bean is kept in the mouth.'  Do it, Quentin, before you come to us-Jason will be watching for you!  And be careful, my love!”</div> <div> Julia stopped and turned to Daoirdre.  Quentin-invisible?  Where would he find a raven and three black beans?  She wanted to ask her young friend but felt suddenly overwhelmed with dizziness.  She realized  she was fainting as Daoirdre moved forward to catch her.</div> <bR> <div> Quentin heard.  Before he had a chance to give in to the rational, reasoning portion of his brain which was demanding “What the hell?” he'd already let go of Cillian shoulders and slid off the mare while she was in mid-stride.  He tumbled and rolled painfully through the underbrush before coming to an abrupt stop against an old stump.  He groaned and once again wished the portrait worked here.  He came to his knees slowly, shaking his head to clear it, and heard Cillian calling:  “Quentin!”  He looked up and met the eyes of his farmer-guide, who looked bewildered and dismayed.  Quentin jumped to his feet and ran deeper into the forest, leaving the shouting farmer behind.  He ran until he could no longer hear Cillian's shouts behind him and until he came to a clearing.</div> <div> Man, I am in deep shit now, he thought to himself.  I have no idea where I am, there's woods and thick underbrush everywhere, I don't have a compass and I wasn't paying any attention when we talked about navigating by the stars in school, he thought morosely.  He didn't even want to think yet about what he'd heard Julia telling him.  He sat down under a tree to think.</div> <div> A raven, for God's sake!  Quentin knew more about ravens than he did about finding his way out of forests.  In his travels around the world, looking for a cure to the werewolf curse that he could depend on (other than the portrait), he'd learned a lot of  folklore. Tales of ravens existed in almost every country he'd visited.  They were supposed to bring news-either good or evil.  In Scandinavia, a voluptuous blonde “white” witch told Quentin that the ravens were scouts for the Norse god Odin.  They flew all over the world asking questions of the living and dead and then brought back their news to Odin.  That made the god more powerful, because he knew and understood what was going on in the world.</div> <div> Quentin had also spent time with an Indian wise woman back in the United States.  She didn't know much helpful information about werewolves, but she knew plenty about lovemaking-and ravens.  They were a part of her tribe's creation story.  “In the beginning,” she'd told him, “there was nothing except for darkness, water,  and the Raven.  The Raven flew through the darkness with a bag, which hung around his neck.  After a while, he became weary and took a rock from the bag to lighten his load.  That made the land.”  The story went on in the same vein.  The raven would fly for a while, become tired, and take something else from this bag:  trees, plants, flowers, animals, other birds and, of course, man at the very end.</div> <div> Some cultures thought ravens served the devil.  Julia had said he was to kill a raven and take its heart out.  If the raven really did belong to the devil, that was just asking for trouble, Quentin thought.  There would be all kinds of evil consequences to shooting a raven-except he didn't have a gun.  How am I going to kill this thing, anyway?  Not only that, where am I going to find a raven-never mind the three black beans?   As if in answer, he heard a deep, throaty caw from above.  No way, he thought, looking up.</div> <div> There was a nest in the tree, and sitting in the nest was a large bird, at least 24 inches long.  Its feathers had a bluish-purple tinge to them.  What was really amazing was this bird was looking down at Quentin, and he gave a violent start.  He thought he must be imagining things-the brown irises of the bird's eyes seemed to be focused on his blue ones.  No way! He thought again.  He stood up, looking up into the tree, wondering how he was supposed to get that thing.  Maybe a rock?</div> <div> He knew he couldn't throw a rock that high into a tree with any accuracy.  He glanced down at his waist and the belt cinched there.  He took his short sword out of its' sheath; it was pliable leather.  What about a sling shot? He thought.  I can try.  He hunted around on the ground until he came up with several medium size stones.  He took the belt off.  He put one of the stones into the center of the soft sheath, swung the belt around his head and let the stone fly.  It fell right at his feet; it didn't work.  The belt was too long, too stiff, and too awkward.</div> <div> I'll try something else, he thought, determined.  He took the sheath off the belt and thought he'd try to fashion a slingshot using his bootlaces and the sheath.  As he worked at it, the bird cawed again several times.  He got up to practice and was satisfied that his new makeshift slingshot worked a lot better.  He practiced throwing stones at different targets he picked out in the clearing before looking up again.  There were two big black birds in the next now.  Great, he thought.  I wonder which one's the female?  Maybe it was the one sitting in the nest-maybe she knew what I'm up to and called for her mate.  Maybe I'm nuts, too.</div> <div> He had to get to Julia.  Resolutely, he gathered more stones and stood under the tree again, looking up and judging.  Coming to a decision, he moved off several paces from the tree, took aim, and let the first rock fly.  It hit the tree trunk near the nest.  The birds blinked and cawed, but neither flew off.  Quentin made an adjustment and let another rock fly.  He wasn't too surprised when one of the birds dropped to the ground, falling like the stone he'd just thrown.  This was a very weird place, where all kinds of strange things happened all the time.</div> <div> He ran to the bird's body and stood looking at it for a few moments, hoping that killing ravens in Brugh wasn't bad luck.  Grimacing with distaste, he picked the bird up gently and carried it to a fallen trunk.  Above him, he heard the other raven cawing and shuddered.  He wondered if the other bird realized what had happened.  Quentin thought about what he was to do next.  He put the bird down on its back so that he could retrieve his short-sword.  As he did so, the bird's head turned to the side, its beak opened, and three black beans spilled out.  Quentin laughed.  It figured.</div> <div> All right, he thought.  This was the worst part.  He took the short sword in his hand, took a deep breath, and went to work, trying to fight down his feelings of nausea as he cut the bird's body open and removed its heart.  When he was finished placing a black bean in each of the three cuts, he used his short sword to cut into the earth.  It was soft and fertile so he didn't have to hack at it, thank goodness, and ended up scooping out the rest of the dirt with his hands.  He placed the raven's heart in the hole and covered it up with the earth.  He sat back on his haunches, wiping his hands off on the breeches.  He took the short-sword and wiped the blade on the earth.  He'd look for a stream later and wash it.</div> <div> I wonder how long this is going to take, he wondered.  He stood up, found his belt and put the sheath back on it.  He hadn't damaged it at all by using it as part of the slingshot.  He laced his soft leather boots again with the laces.  When he was done, he stretched out under the tree, feeling sleepy.  As he drifted off, he hoped the other raven wouldn't come down to peck his eyes out.</div> <div> A soft rustling noise woke him.  Startled, he moved to a sitting position, looking around.  He was nearly eye to eye with a rabbit, which sat staring at him, frozen in terror.  Only the bunny's nose twitched.  “Lucky for you I'm not hungry,” Quentin said to the bunny.  He could've sworn the bunny thanked the Almighty before turning and hopping off into the brush.  Quentin hardly noticed, though-his attention was entirely taken up by the sprout, which had grown up out of the ground.  It was at least 12 inches tall and growing.  Wondering whether it would grow like the beanstalk in the old fairytale, he reached out and pulled one of the bean sprouts loose from the plant.  </div> <div> I'm supposed to put this thing in my mouth now, Quentin thought with distaste, remembering where it had come from.  Maybe I don't need to yet.  Julia!  He called out.  I have the sprout.  How do I find you now?  He waited for her to answer.  If this thing was to make him invisible, he wouldn't need it until he got to Tara.  When Julia's answer came back to him, he pulled more of the sprouts off the plant (it was always best to have extras, Julia warned) and unerringly made his way back out through the woods and to the path.  He started off again for Tara.</div> <bR> <div> “How long will Jason be gone, do you suppose?” Julia wondered.</div> <div> “All afternoon and into the early evening,” Daoirdre replied.  “That's how long he is usually away.”</div> <div> Plenty of time, Julia hoped, and was gratified to see Daoirdre nod in confirmation.  “Have you seen the Leanhaum-sidhe?” she asked curiously.</div> <div> “No,” Daoirdre answered, looking away.  “I am not out of these chambers much-only to bathe or go for a short walk with Sorcha.”</div> <div> “Hmm,” Julia murmured, thinking.  This might pose a problem-or not, depending on how many of the sprouts Quentin brought with him.  She was glad she'd advised him to bring extra-hopefully he'd brought enough for all of them to get out without being seen.  She had more appetite for lunch, which Sorcha brought for them.</div> <div> “Would you like to go for a walk, my ladies?” Sorcha asked politely.</div> <div> “Perhaps later,” Daoirdre answered.  “I'm feeling a little tired right now.”</div> <div> “Me, too,” Julia agreed.  “I could use a nap.”  Sorcha smiled pleasantly and left.  The two women looked at each other.  As if they'd both been thinking the same thing, they began to make up the bed, rolling up the furskin rugs and pushing them under the covers to look like sleeping bodies.</div> <div> “Julia,” Quentin said softly into her ear.  As she jumped, she felt his arms going around him.  He was completely invisible.</div> <div> “Oh, my God, Quentin!” she exclaimed, trembling.  Suddenly, he was before her, grinning, displaying the bean shoot which he'd held in his cheek.  “Oh, it worked!”  She was completely awed.</div> <div> “Yes, of course,” Daoirdre said, a trifle impatiently.  She said reprovingly to Quentin, “You shouldn't have frightened Lady Julia so!”</div> <div> “Why?” Quentin chuckled softly.  “She's not made of porcelain.”  He whistled.  “Hey, that's some stone out there, huh?  Did it give you the same ideas it gave me?”  </div> <div> Julia laughed, too.  “It's the stone of kings, you know.”</div> <div> “It recognizes the true king,” Daoirdre explained, with an innocent air about her.  She obviously didn't know what Quentin and Julia were referring to.</div> <div> “I did think of you, Quentin,” Julia said softly, and Quentin gave her a meaningful look.</div> <div> Blushing as she suddenly realized what they were talking about, Daoirdre asked:  “What happened to you?”</div> <div> “Oh, this?” Quentin reached up to touch his eye, brushing his lip.  “Julia didn't get a chance before to heal this.  We became a little preoccupied.”  He smiled at Julia teasingly.</div> <div> “It must be annoying,” Daoirdre observed.  “Let me heal you.”</div> <div> “Oh, that's all right-Julia's a great healer,” Quentin protested.</div> <div> Daoirdre was shaking her head.  “She should try not to exert her energy just now.”  Julia gave her a warning look, and she stopped, confused.  “I forgot-you don't know.”  At that, Julia threw a warning look toward her, and she flushed.</div> <div> Quentin caught the look, and his brows rushed together.  “Know what?”  He looked back and forth between the two women.  “What's going on?”  He looked at Julia.  “Julia?  Is something wrong?”  The connection he was making was between the stone and the High King and Julia, and he didn't like what he was thinking.</div> <div> Wrong?  How could she answer that!  “Wrong?” she repeated, feeling foolish.  </div> <div> Quentin put his hand on her elbow and looked at Daoirdre.  “What don't I know?  Is it about Jason? Or the High King?”</div> <div> “It's not my right to tell,” Daoirdre said softly.  “It's not so serious.  Sit down.  Let me heal your eye and then I'll retire-and you tell him, Julia.  Then we have to leave quickly.”  </div> <div> Quentin looked at Julia, obviously unhappy.  “Why don't you tell me about it while she's doing whatever she's doing?” he demanded.</div> <div> “I don't think that's a good idea,” Julia responded irritably.  She felt annoyed with them both-with Daoirdre for letting it slip and with Quentin for trying to force her to tell him now.  It was her special secret.  She'd wanted to tell him in her own way and in her own time.</div> <div> Daoirdre realized what she was feeling and came to the rescue.  “I need you to concentrate, Quentin, and you cannot listen when you are concentrating on something else.  Please sit down.”  Grumbling, Quentin sat.  She placed her hand on his eye.  “Concentrate on the trapped blood, Quentin.  Imagine it breaking free and moving throughout your body.  Imagine that you can feel the swelling going away.”  She took her hand away.  “Open your eyes, Quentin.”  He obeyed and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Daoirdre had covered the swelling on his lower lip.  Once again she told him to concentrate.  Quentin sighed.</div> <div> Julia was grateful for the few minutes of time this was buying for her, thinking rapidly.  Daoirdre was finished now.  Backing away, she looked at Julia and then ducked into the other room. Thanks a lot, Julia thought, as Quentin turned his eyes back to her.  “Well, handsome,” she began, smiling, “you look as good as new.”</div> <div> “Never mind that!”  Quentin looked worried and upset.  “Julia?  Are you all right?  Did Jason do something to you?  Did he hurt you?”</div> <div> “Er, no, he didn't,” Julia answered.  She took his hand.  “Dearheart, I think you better sit down.”  They sat down in the chairs before the hearth.  She tried to think how to tell him; this was not the way she'd wanted to give him the news and it was obvious her difficulty was causing him to become even more agitated.  “Quentin, please!  I'm all right-as all right as any mother-to-be might be, I expect.”  For a moment, she wasn't sure that he'd heard her, and then she knew he had.  He sat without moving, staring at her, and then his eyes nearly popped right out of his head.  She took his other hand quickly.  “Are you all right?”  Even in the dim light, she could see his face had drained of all color.</div> <div> Quentin opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out at first.  Finally he croaked, “You're asking if I'm all right? Julia, do you mean you're pr-pr-are you having a baby?”</div> <div> Julia nodded, wondering how he felt about it.  She wasn't even sure how she felt about it.  She met his eyes and suddenly realized that he was thinking the same thing-he was confused,  and he was worried about her having a baby.  She smiled to reassure him.  “I'm fine.”  She couldn't tell him that there was more than one yet.  At his look of relief, she began to laugh.  He looked surprised and then started to laugh, too.  “I just realized that we're thinking the same thing,” she said finally, as he squeezed her hands.</div> <div> “You mean, how did this happen?”  he asked, and then laughed.  “Well, that's dumb, isn't it?  We know how.  I didn't think about doing anything to prevent it.”</div> <div> “I didn't either,” Julia answered.  “I didn't think it could happen.”  Now he was looking at her intently.  She knew he was wondering what she thought of being pregnant.  She smiled a little and shrugged.  “I'm getting used to the idea-I think.  What do you think about it?”</div> <div> He shook his head, unable to speak, and Julia felt momentarily alarmed.  She thought:  why would he want to be tied down with a child?  He's been carefree all these years.  And I look so much older than he does-he's never wanted to settle down before.  Julia realized that he was too overwhelmed to say anything; his eyes had filled up with tears.  “Julia, what about the curse?” he asked.  “My God!  What if it's a boy?  How far along are you?”</div> <div> That thought hadn't even occurred to her, and she got up out of the chair to put her arms around his neck to reassure him.  He pulled her onto his lap and she could feel the tension in his body.  “No-this happened after you were cured, dearheart,” she whispered to him.  “You don't have to worry about that.”  She felt his body go limp a little and his breath expelled sharply.  </div> <div> She thought she heard him say, “Thank God!”  Then he was looking into her eyes, his still filled with emotion.  “Well, how do you feel about it?  Are you glad?”</div> <div> She suddenly realized that he was as unsure of her as she was of him.  He was wondering how she felt about having his child, wondering if she wanted it, wondering if she wanted to mother it and be tied down to it and to him.  “I'm stunned,” she answered truthfully.  “But, yes, dearheart, I'm glad.  I'm very glad.  Are you?”</div> <div> In answer, he hugged her very tightly, almost squeezing all the breath out of her. “Yes, I'm glad, but Julia-how do you know?  Especially if it was after I was cured.  It hasn't been that long.  I mean,  I guess I should have thought to ask you before if I should use anything.  I just thought, well, I don't know what I thought.”</div> <div> “That I was too old?”</div> <div> “No!” he protested immediately.  “I just thought you would use something, you know.  I just always assumed you would-I mean, especially being a doctor.”  He stopped, realizing he sounded foolish.</div> <div> “Oh!”  Now she understood.  How typically male, she thought.  “Well, to be honest, dearheart, I didn't really need to.  I didn't think I'd need to here, either.  But then, at Urisk's cave, well, I could feel it-here.”  She took Quentin's hand and pressed it to the place she'd felt all those little arrows.</div> <div> Quentin gulped.  “Urisk's cave?  It's only been a few days, Julia.  Are you sure?”</div> <div> “I'm sure.  Here-this is where the baby is now.”  Julia stumbled over the word as she moved Quentin's hand again. She still couldn't bring herself to tell him there was more than one.  She wondered what he would say then. “It was the oddest sensation-I felt the baby burrow into my uterine wall.  Oh, like a little mole burrowing, I guess.”</div> <div> He looked amazed.  It really was mind-boggling, that she could be so positive so soon.  If she was anyone else but Julia, he might scoff at her.  A baby!  My baby, he thought.  Moved, he kissed her passionately-the mother of his child.  He had another chance-it didn't have to all end with his lost twin children!</div> <div> Children-he thought suddenly of the Fir Bolg children when he'd been gathering the things he need to escape Brugh with Julia.  With a jolt, he thought of the danger they were still in.  They had to get out-now! He said urgently,  “Julia, we need to get out of here.  I brought lots of shoots-plenty for you and me and Daoirdre, too.”</div> <div> Julia sighed with relief.  At that point Daoirdre discreetly slipped back into the room carrying three sacks. She gave Julia a very brief reproachful look.  Julia realized that the girl thought Julia should have told Quentin about all the babies, but she just didn't understand.  She was just barely out of childhood herself!  No, Julia corrected herself, looking closely at Daoirdre.  She'd been with Barnabas-she was no child.  She sighed again, and Quentin looked at her curiously.  “It's all right.  We need to talk some more but you're right-we've got to get out of here.  Jason's taken King Niall hunting, and I don't know when they'll return.”</div> <div> “Well, let's go then.”  Quentin pulled out a shoot and opened Julia's hand, placing it into her palm.  “Daoirdre.”  He walked over to her, motioning awkwardly with his hand.  “Look, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry.  I didn't mean for you to be taken away like this.”</div> <div> Daoirdre smiled kindly.  “It's all right, Quentin.  All is forgiven.  I've even brought some provisions for you.”  She took the shoot from Quentin's hand and slipped it into her mouth.  She disappeared.</div> <div> “My God!” Julia exclaimed.  “It happens that fast!”</div> <div> “Watch!” Quentin grinned at her teasingly.  “Now you see me…” He spread his hands, tossed his shoot from one hand to the other and then up into the air.  He moved under it and caught it in his mouth and disappeared.  “Now you don't!  Now you, Julia!”</div> <div> Julia wondered if she would be able to see them with the shoot in her mouth and tentatively placed in on her tongue.  She pressed it against her cheek and realized she could see Daoirdre and Quentin again, both of them suppressing their laughter so that she wouldn't be able to hear them and guess where they were.  Well, she thought, getting up, now I can see them too.  She was mightily impressed.</div> <div> Daoirdre put her finger to her lips to indicate that they should not speak.  She handed each of them a pack and began to tiptoe out of the chambers.  Quentin took Julia's hand and followed, hoping no dogs were about.  Well, even if a dog did bark at them what would the people do?  They'd just think the dog was barking at a leaf-or at nothing.  Once they were out of the dwelling and on their way to the rath entrance, Daoirdre whispered, “It would be safer if we stayed this way until dark.”</div> <div> “Is this something else that you just knew about?”  Julia asked.</div> <div> “No, it was Colm who told me.  I hoped he was telling the truth,” Daoirdre confided.  </div> <div> “Why would Colm tell you how to make Quentin invisible?  When did he do that?”</div> <div> “He told me because he is a good man, and he felt that what Jason McGuire planned to do was unjust.  He has been trying to use his influence with the High King, but Jason persistently interferes,” Daoirdre explained.  “He told me how to become invisible not to help Quentin so much as to help me.  He still has to have a divination dream about Quentin-tonight.  That is why he performed the ritual of imbras forosna.  It is to delay any action by Jason.  I wish I could have told you, Julia, but Jason arrived too soon-and then Quentin.”</div> <div> “What's that?  This imbras forosna you're talking about?” Quentin asked.  They were safely through the gate at Forradh.  He noticed that Julia looked a little green suddenly and grabbed her arm.  “Julia!  You're not going to throw up are you?”</div> <div> “Only if you make us tell you what that is,” Julia replied weakly.  “Trust me-you don't want to know.”</div> <div> “Okay,” Quentin agreed immediately.  He looked at Daoirdre.  “Well, I'm lost.  Where do we go?”</div> <div> “East,” Daoirdre replied.</div> <div> “East?  Not west?”  Quentin sounded confused.  “I thought Connacht was the other way.”  Then looking at Daoirdre more closely, he laughed.  “You're a lot smarter than I give you credit for!  That's exactly where we'd be expected to go, of course!”</div> <div> Daoirdre smiled.  “Barnabas will find me no matter where I go.  And going east is safer.”</div> <div> Quentin's countenance darkened a little.  “Oh, good,” he said ironically, without enthusiasm.</div> <div> “He will forgive you,” Daoirdre assured him.</div> <div> Quentin didn't look pleased.  He looked embarrassed and angry.  “Oh, I don't care about that,” he answered roughly.  “What about this Leanhaum-sidhe?  Will she be able to tell where he is?  Can she follow him?”</div> <div> “They have no connection.”</div> <div> Quentin nodded.  “Well, let's go then.”  At least he could be reassured about that.  He had no reason to doubt Daoirdre-she was a natural healer and she did have a bond to Barnabas.  She was probably right about Barnabas forgiving him, too, although he crankily wondered why he was always the one to be forgiven.  He thought Barnabas had committed some pretty despicable acts himself and might be in need of some forgiveness, too.  He put his arm around Julia and thought he could afford to be generous to Barnabas.  He set aside his resentment.  </div> <div> Daoirdre turned back to him and gave him a glowing smile, which disconcerted him a little.  She turned and walked on.  “She has that effect on me, too,” Julia whispered, and Quentin's jaw dropped.  Were both of them mind readers now?  “It just takes some practice,” Julia said teasingly.  “Come on.”  She tugged on his hand.  Still shaking his head, he followed her, squeezing her hand.  After they'd been walking some way, Quentin asked, “Where are we going, exactly?”</div> <div> “Just east,” Daoirdre answered.  “It doesn't really matter.  I just want to bypass the House of Dagda.  Jason might think to look for us there.”</div> <div> “Why?”</div> <div> “In Sithein, the House of Dagda is called Newgrange,” Daoirdre explained patiently.</div> <div> Quentin looked at Julia, feeling exasperated.  “Do you get the feeling we're travelling in a great big circle?”</div> <div> “We're not any closer to Connacht,” Julia agreed wearily.  She was beginning to feel hungry and thirsty.</div> <div> Daoirdre noticed.  “This is true, but unfortunately, we cannot go that way now.  We must wait for Barnabas and the succubus.”</div> <div> “The what?” Julia asked, startled.</div> <div> “What succubus?” Quentin asked at the same time.  He gave Julia a look that said:  I don't know anything about this, honest!</div> <div> “Oh-you did not know!  The succubus is she who is called Maeve,”  Daoirdre explained.</div> <div> Julia was horrified.  She'd known that Barnabas intended to fetch Maeve and knew that the poor woman was a vampire; she had no idea that she was now a succubus.  Apparently, neither had Quentin.  He looked very pale again.  “No wonder,” he mumbled.  Julia looked at him closely and realized that she didn't need to ask-Daoirdre's tutoring was beginning to pay off.  Quentin had almost fallen under Maeve's spell-Barnabas had stopped it.  “I am grateful to him for that,” she said aloud.  She felt dizzy all of a sudden.</div> <div> “Julia?”  Quentin sounded alarmed, picking her up in his arms.</div> <div> “She needs something to eat and drink; we should rest,” Daoirdre said in a decisive way.  She led Quentin off the path and into the woods.  “There is water nearby,” she said to him.  “I will start a fire pit if you will try to bring us a fish and some water.”  She rummaged in her pack and pulled out a large flask.  “There is one each in your packs,” she said to Quentin.  “There is also a sack for the fish.”</div> <div> Helpfully, Quentin retrieved the other flasks and the sack.  When he turned back, Daoirdre had taken out another smaller flask, filled with liquid.  Removing the stopper, she passed it to Julia. Watching, Quentin asked:  “Can I get a drink?  I'm thirsty, too.”</div> <div> “You can't drink this,” Daoirdre answered.  “It is a special liqueur for Lady Julia-and the babies.”</div> <div> “Oh, I see.”  Quentin nodded.  Julia stiffened as Quentin turned to go.  “Which way is the water?” he asked and then stopped still.  He turned back, his eyes huge.  “The what?”</div> <div> Daoirdre covered her mouth with her hands.  “I am sorry,” she was saying to Julia.</div> <div> Quentin squatted down beside Julia.  “The babies?  Julia, what is this?  You didn't tell me they were twins.”  He sounded more worried than angry.  “Isn't that dangerous for you?”</div> <div> “Well,” Julia took a deep breath and then said: “They're not twins, Quentin.”</div> <div> “Three?” Julia shook her head now, and Quentin sat down on the ground, deeply shocked.  “Four?  Julia-not more than four?”</div> <div> “I don't think so.”</div> <div> “Oh, my God!” Quentin exclaimed.  “Four!  Julia!”</div> <div> “Quentin, please-you can't get upset about it now.”</div> <div> “But, Julia!  Twins nearly killed Jenny-how can you carry four?”  Quentin was beginning to panic.  “We've got to get out of here!”</div> <div> “There is a way, don't worry,” Daoirdre soothed him.  “Please-Lady Julia needs you to be strong now.  You mustn't be upset.”</div> <div> Quentin looked at Julia wildly.  She looked pale and exhausted, and he felt very frightened.  He hadn't been around for the births of his twins, but once he found out about their existence Beth had told him that Jenny had nearly died bearing them-and she was young.  Julia wasn't young, and this wasn't 1970 America-this was some primitive Alice-in-wonderland place.  Daoirdre's words did get through to him, and he thought he mustn't allow his panicky feelings to affect Julia.  He smiled weakly at her.  “Why didn't you tell me?” he asked finally.  “Did you think I'd run out on you?”</div> <div> “Well, it did cross my mind once or twice,” Julia answered wryly.  “To be honest though, dearheart, it was because I still wasn't sure I believed it myself.  This all has a dreamlike quality to it, you know?”</div> <div> “I think I do,” he agreed.  He looked back at Daoirdre, who had a passive, reassuring expression on her face that clearly said don't worry, it's all under control.  That's what you think, sister, he thought to himself.  Maybe it would be a great idea to go fishing-it would preoccupy him and give him time to absorb this new shock. He still was struggling with mixed feelings about being the father of one child-four?  “Where is this water?” he asked again, valiantly covering his feelings of dismay.</div> <div> “The River Boyne,” Daoirdre said.  </div> <div> “The River Boyne?” Quentin repeated.  He hadn't realized they were so close-it was so much more rural and wooded here.</div> <div> “Named for the goddess of fertility,” Julia put in with a smile.  “How ironic.”</div> <div> Quentin gave her a wide-eyed look. “Maybe you ought not to drink from it!”</div> <div> Julia laughed.  “It's a little late for that now.”</div> <div> “We are close to the house of Dagda,” Daoirdre said impatiently.  “Do you not know the story?  Boann, the goddess for whom the river is named, joined with the god Dagda.  They caused the sun to stand still for nine months so that the baby was conceived and born on the same day.”</div> <div> “Oh, right,” Quentin remembered.  “Boann was married to someone else, that's why they had to do hide the baby's birth.”  He tried to remember where he heard the story.  He'd heard so many lately. “All right-where is the river from here?”</div> <div> “You'll hear it.  Walk through the woods.  Listen with your ears.”  She turned her back on him dismissively and bent down to minister to Julia.</div> <div> Listen to my ears? Quentin felt foolish.  He'd just gotten earth-shaking news.  His ears were ringing with everything but the sound of running water.  Still, he began to pick his way through the trees.  River Boyne, eh?  Something familiar about the River Boyne, he thought, more to distract himself than because he really cared about Irish mythology.  This had nothing to do with mythology, though, he realized.  It had to do with more “recent” history-the Battle of the Boyne, where William of Orange and  his Protestant forces defeated the Catholic supporters of James II.</div> <div> That was the sort of the start of “The Troubles”, Quentin thought.  The Orangemen proudly paraded all through Northern Ireland every July 12th to celebrate the victory.  It all stemmed from here, he thought.  Even at Tara, he remembered, Daniel O'Connell gathered a million people for a Home Rule rally-another futile attempt to break from British rule. The haphazard rivalry that went on in Brugh was pretty tame compared with the violence tearing apart Northern Ireland.  So, Quentin thought,  this place may be beautiful and rich here but the same thing didn't happen in Sithein.  Beautiful it might still be, but not so rich nor so peaceful.</div> <div> He did find the river easily and filled the flasks with the cool water.  He remembered what Julia had taught him about catching fish and removed his soft shoes and breeches.  There was no one around to see him fishing in the long tunic-he hoped.  Fertility goddess, he mused.  How the hell are we going to take care of quadruplets?  He wondered.  Julia was a doctor-would she want to give that up?  Should she?  He could write anywhere, he knew that, but-four babies?  What if they all started yelling at once?  </div> <div> He groaned and felt a sudden, sharp pain as a fish finned his palm.  Luckily, it wasn't a deep cut; Daoirdre could heal him.  Funny-he was taking her for granted now.  What if her healing powers were diminished because of her pregnancy-carrying four babies had to take a lot of energy.  He held his hand under the cool water, waiting for the bleeding to stop.  He saw he'd already caught several fish without even realizing it.  He'd been too busy worrying.</div> <div> He was drawn back by the smell of the cook fire.  Daoirdre had made a pit similar to the one Urisk had when he and Julia had stayed at the cave.  Apparently, she and Julia had been foraging and had found wild onions and some other type of root vegetables.  He joined them silently, sat down, and took the knife Daoirdre offered to clean the fish.</div> <div> “I'm starving!” Julia exclaimed, looking at the fish and at Quentin with appreciation.</div> <div> “Gee, I guess so-you're eating for five now?”  Quentin looked up at her and saw her expression of pleasure change to one of uncertainty.  He felt exasperated.  “You know, Julia, we really need to quit this.  I was just kidding!”</div> <div> “What happened to you?”  Julia knelt down beside him and took his injured hand.  She pressed her hand over his, and he felt the stinging fade away.  He looked down at his hand and then at her, worried.  Julia sighed.  “I'm all right-whatever it was that Daoirdre gave me to drink restored a lot of my energy.  Feel better now?”</div> <div> He looked at his hand again.  Not a mark on it.  “Just as good as the portrait, my love, thank you!” he exclaimed and kissed her.  She closed her eyes, the lashes dark on her pale cheeks as he sat back.  His heart filled with tenderness toward her and the babies.  They're mine, he thought fiercely.  Julia opened her eyes and smiled at him.  “Here, want to add this to the fire?” he said, smiling back, and handing Julia two of the fish he'd cleaned.  Within a few minutes, he'd cleaned the others, thinking that his brothers and sister would get a good laugh if they could just see him.  The spoiled, elegant Quentin Collins gutting and cleaning fish-the very idea!</div> <div> “What are you laughing at?”  Julia asked, after she'd added the rest of the fish to the fire.  Roxanne covered the pit to allow everything to cook through.  Quentin was sitting cross-legged on the ground and Julia sat down next to him, leaning against him.</div> <div> “I was just thinking that I've never smelled of fish before,” Quentin laughed, pushing his hands under Julia's nose.  She gagged suddenly, and Quentin pulled his fingers away.  He began to apologize when he realized Julia was just kidding and had begun to laugh.  “It's not funny!” he snapped petulantly.  “I thought I'd brought on morning sickness or something!”</div> <div> “Oh, I'm sorry, I can't help it,” Julia giggled.  “I won't feel morning sick for a few weeks.”</div> <div> “Good-I'm glad you warned me,” Quentin retorted crossly, but then his features softened and he put his arm around her.  She didn't look so different, but he thought the sunlight in her hair made her look radiantly beautiful-as if she had a soft red halo around her head.  Daoirdre sat down nearby and they waited in companionable silence for the meal to finish cooking.</div> <div> After they'd eaten, they were tempted to sit and relax a while longer; however, at the sudden baying of hounds, Daoirdre abruptly got to her feet.  “We have to go!” she cried urgently.  They'd taken the bean sprouts out of their mouths so they could eat, and now Daoirdre motioned that they should place them in their cheeks again.</div> <div> “Are they Jason's?” Julia asked fearfully.</div> <div> “They are the Hounds of the Hill,” Daoirdre answered, a panicky look on her face.  “I suppose they might answer to Jason McGuire-they are of the underworld.”</div> <div> “And now they're hunting us?” Quentin asked.  He didn't need Daoirdre to nod in the affirmative.  “Let's get out of here!”  A light breeze had been blowing through the trees.  It picked up suddenly, and the sky turned dark and thunderous.  “Great!” he muttered, taking Julia's elbow.</div> <div> “We need to find shelter, but we must get past Dagda's Home!” Daoirdre exclaimed.  “We'll try to make for Bru na Boinne that is not so far from Drogheda, and near the great water.”</div> <div> As the walked quickly through the woods, the rain began to fall in heavy sheets making seeing difficult.  Walking had become difficult, too, and at some point, Quentin realized he'd lost his bean sprout.  He could see the two women dimly and thought that if he could still see them, they must have lost or swallowed their sprouts, too.  It was almost as dark as night, and Quentin wished mightily for a lantern or a flashlight.  He was very surprised when a light appeared on the path ahead.  Was it possible that wishes were answered here?   “Are we close to Bru na Boinne.  Is it a town?  Would there be people about?”</div> <div> “Quite possibly,” Daoirdre answered hopefully.  “Let's see.”</div> <div> There's something wrong about this, Julia thought, and she had a feeling that Daoirdre sensed it too.  The howling of the hounds was louder, which meant they were nearer.  Which posed the greater danger-the dogs or that light?  Julia suspected that Daoirdre felt that the light posed the lesser danger and that was why she was willing to follow it, even though it felt “wrong.”</div> <div> Sure enough, they came to a sudden dead end.  The side of a mountain appeared suddenly before them; its wall was sheer and smooth as glass.  The trees were thick on either side of them; Julia sensed, though, that through the trees was more mountain walls.  “Where are we?” she asked, confused.</div> <div> “Will `o-the wisp,” Daoirdre whispered, sounding frightened.  “I was wrong to follow-it was the wrong choice.”</div> <div> The sound of the baying hounds was all around them now.  Whirling around, Quentin could make out great beasts approaching in the dark.  He could see huge white bodies creeping toward them.  The sheeting rain stopped suddenly.  “Get behind me,” Quentin said to the two women, wondering how he was going to protect them.  There were flares of light approaching, too-men on horseback!  The flares highlighted the hounds, and the two women gasped with fright.  Quentin was frightened, too, unsure he could believe what he was seeing.  The hounds had sharp, pointed teeth and blood red floppy ears.  Their bodies were snowy white, right down to their noses, which they pointed upward into the sky to bay their triumph at tracking down their prey.</div> <div> “Good fellows!” a voice rang out in the darkness.  “Back, now!  Back!”</div> <div> One of the horses pulled up, depositing a man with a long dark cloak onto the ground.  The horse changed shape, and Jason strode forward.  He was a giant, at least ten feet tall, with glowing red eyes like two hot coals from a fire.  “Well, my young friend!” he exclaimed.  He grabbed Quentin's throat and raised him high into the air, slamming him against the smooth wall of the mountain.</div> <div> “No!” Julia cried out as she was forced to one side and Daoirdre to the other.</div> <div> “Explain yourself!” Jason roared angrily into Quentin's face.   He didn't seem to know or care that by grasping his prisoner by the throat, he was rendering him incapable of speech.  “Ah, bucko, this is the worst day of your life for you have not only betrayed me several times over, you have inconvenienced me mightily with His Majesty, and for that, you are going to pay a high price!”</div> <div> Quentin struggled, not only fighting for air, but to get away from the terrifying appearance of the enraged pookah.  His hot, fetid breath was in Quentin's face and when he parted his lips in a terrifying smile, his teeth shone white and razor sharp, like a shark's.  Quentin couldn't make a sound, though. Julia was making plenty of noise for them both, begging McGuire to let him go.</div> <div> “Stop, McGuire!” a commanding voice roared imperiously.</div> <div> Shocked at the presumptuousness of the newcomer, Jason snarled and looked over his shoulder.  There were other people coming into the area, joining the tall man in the long cloak.  The intruder, however, stood alone, his own cloak long and flowing to the ground.  “I said, stop, McGuire!”</div> <div> “Ha!” McGuire snorted, sounding delighted.  He let go of Quentin abruptly and turned toward the intruder.  Quentin landed heavily on the ground and slumped down, clutching his throat.  Julia immediately was at his side, her arms going around him protectively.</div> <div> Daoirdre, however, stood up straight.  “My Lord!” she gasped in an exultant voice, and both Quentin and Julia automatically turned toward her.  Her eyes were alive with fiery passion, and her face was radiantly beautiful.  “Barnabas!” she exclaimed joyfully.</div> <div>      “Well, what an unexpected pleasure,” Jason smiled coldly.  He moved swiftly, taking hold of Daoirdre and holding her fast.</div> <div>      “Let her go, McGuire, your quarrel is with me-not with this child or my friends!”  Although Barnabas'  voice was low and calm,  his tone was filled with threat.</div> <div>      “You must return with me to Tara,” Jason answered, keeping his hold on Daoirdre, who didn't try to pull away or protest.  She seemed entranced by Barnabas, looking only at his eyes.  She seemed to be taking courage and strength each time he gazed at her.</div> <div>      For the first time, the other cloaked stepped into the light cast by the flares.  Julia's hand went to her mouth in her characteristic gesture of shock-not only was the man wearing a cloak of fine royal purple, the torchlight threw highlights on his very red hair.  Although it was dark and she couldn't see well, Julia knew that the man was freckled and had green eyes-he was a near mirror image of herself!  “Why must we return to Tara?” the man demanded now in an imperious tone.  “We are all here now, are we not?”</div> <div>      McGuire's eyes darted about nervously, flaring red for a moment.  “Ah!  We must consult with Colm, Your Highness-the imbas forosna! We must go back-so that Colm might have the vision.  He'll be able to explain what all this portends!”</div> <div>      “Ah, yes,” the man answered softly.</div> <div>      “High King Niall?” Barnabas had turned toward the man and bowed deeply, a sign of respect.  “May I present myself?  I am the Lord Dearg-Due.”</div> <div>      “I had so understood,”  the king replied with great dignity.  “I am honored.”</div> <div>      “I am here to alleviate the conflict between our peoples,” Barnabas went on smoothly.  “This McGuire is a trickster-a pookah.  He seeks to mislead you.”</div> <div>      The king glanced in Jason's direction.  “He has served me well thus far.”</div> <div>      “I assure you that his only motive in serving you has been to strike back at me.”</div> <div>      “Would you return with us then-to Tara?  Would you put faith and honor behind your words?”</div> <div>      “Indeed I would be willing,” Barnabas agreed with an air of complacency.  “As a show of good faith, I have brought a gift-a peace offering for you.”  He turned toward McGuire.  “And even for you, McGuire.”</div> <div>      “Peace offering indeed!” McGuire scoffed.</div> <div>      “You doubt me now, but you won't for long.”   Barnabas smiled.  It seemed to be a pleasant, friendly smile.  However, both Julia and Quentin, who were watching silently, recognized that Barnabas was about to tighten an invisible noose about Jason's neck.</div> <div>      “Very well,” McGuire agreed.  “Let us go!”  When Barnabas stepped forward, reaching for Daoirdre, McGuire snarled:  “I think not, Mr. Collins!  Lord Dearg-due, you will, of course, allow me the honor of escorting the lovely Princess Daoirdre back to Tara!”</div> <div>      “But of course,” Barnabas answered, very politely.  “However, you don't mind if I attend to my kin?  You were rather mishandling him badly I think.”</div> <div>      McGuire laughed and moved out of the way, taking Daoirdre with him. Barnabas strode over to Julia and Quentin, kneeling down.  Julia moved aside a little, and Barnabas grasped Quentin's shoulders very firmly.  Barnabas brought his face very close to Quentin's.  “You realize, of course, that this is your fault?  If you hadn't run off, we would not be in this mess and I would have settled McGuire already.”  His voice was barely audible and tight with fury.</div> <div>      “I'm sorry, Barnabas, but I had to find Julia,” Quentin apologized.  He realized that it didn't matter-his cousin was still furious.  He added, “You still care for Julia, don't you?”</div> <div>      “You know that I do,” Barnabas growled.  He seemed to be angrier.</div> <div>      “Well, you can't do anything to the father of her children.  Barnabas, you're hurting me.”</div> <div>      Barnabas let go abruptly, looking at Julia, his eyes widening with concern.  “Children, Julia?  I knew there was one child-children?”  Julia nodded speechlessly, her eyes wide with apprehension.  “Well!” Barnabas exclaimed, sitting back on his heels.  He let go of Quentin, looking at Julia with great concern.  As if putting on a facial mask, Julia and Quentin watched him mask his concern.  He turned back to Quentin with a cold smile and patted his cheek, not too gently.  “You're right-I would not harm the father of Julia's children.”</div> <div>      Barnabas stood up.  He reached down and took Julia's hands in his, drawing her to her feet.  Julia looked back at him, his brown eyes softening as he looked into her eyes.  There would be no going back now, ever, Julia thought, but he would always be her protector.  Quentin's jaw tightened resentfully as he watched Barnabas gaze at Julia as if she was a lost lover.  Still holding one of her hands, Barnabas let go of the other and reached down to help Quentin get up.  Turning to the High King, he said in a strong voice, “Your Majesty, may I present your kinswoman?”</div> <div>      King Niall had been consulting with Jason, obviously in a dispute with him.  He broke away, approaching them, looking stunned. “Your pardon?  My kinswoman?” Jason might have told Julia, but it was obvious he hadn't informed the king yet.  Jason looked furious.     </div> <div> “A member of the ui Neill clan-see for yourself!” </div> <div>      The king took a torch from one of his body servants and held it out toward Julia, who gazed steadily into his eyes.  He could be my brother-if I had one, she thought, amazed.  The king realized it, too.  “She is a lost daughter of the ui Neills!”  The king exclaimed.  “It is clear for anyone to see!  My dear, you are my honored guest.  You must return to my home.”</div> <div>      “Thank you, your Highness,” Julia answered, feeling overwhelmed.  </div> <div>      “She is with child,” Barnabas continued.  “She should ride, and not walk with the rest of us.”</div> <div>      “Without a doubt, Lord Dearg-due. Aodh!” the king barked.  “Bring my other steed!”  One of the men moved off, obediently.</div> <div>      Jason had transformed into a prancing purple stallion again.  He was to carry the king-and Daoirdre.  Aodh brought a second stallion for Julia, sitting astride the fine animal.  He reached a hand down for her.</div> <div>      Julia drew back.  “Quentin!”</div> <div>      King Niall had mounted Jason's back; Daoirdre clung to his waist.  “Have no worry, my cousin,” he assured her.  “Your man will accompany Lord Dearg-due back to Tara.  He will follow safely.”  Still Julia hesitated.  “My lady?  What is it?  Tell me your concern and I will have it taken care of.”</div> <div>      “I don't want Quentin harmed in anyway-by anyone,” Julia stated, looking at Barnabas.  She didn't think Barnabas would hurt his cousin behind her back-but she never could be sure.</div> <div>      “I will personally see that he arrives safely, Lady Julia,” Barnabas assured her gallantly and somewhat ironically.</div> <div>      Julia nodded.  She turned to Quentin-she didn't want to leave him.  She moved into his arms, and he bent his head to kiss her.  “I'll be all right,” he assured her, grinning.  Still, he whispered into her ear:  “Thanks, my love.  I'm sure I will be all right-now.”  Julia kissed him quickly again and then turned back to Aodh.  This time, she reached up for him, and he pulled her up easily and placed her behind him.  Julia put her arms around his waist loosely.  </div> <div>      There were other men on horses there now, bearing torches.  Another man stood by, on foot, holding the hounds on long leads.  “We go!” King Niall cried, and all those who were on mounts began to move off.</div> <div>      That left a few men with torches, the man with the hounds, Barnabas, and Quentin.  Quentin looked at his cousin uneasily.  Barnabas looked back at him steadily, seeming to enjoy his cousin's discomfort.  Finally, Barnabas said:  “Don't worry.  I promised Julia I would see you safely to Tara, and I will-but remember, that is only because Julia asked it.  Now, come along.”</div> <div>      Relieved, Quentin elected to ignore Barnabas' domineering tone.  “Where is Willie?”</div> <div>      Barnabas turned on him, furious, his eyes gleaming as hotly red as Jason's had. “Hush!”</div> <div>      Quentin drew back.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.  He thought he'd better not underestimate or antagonize Barnabas again.</div> <div>      Barnabas moved closer to his cousin, throwing his arm over his shoulder and drawing him close.  “Listen carefully,” he said very softly.  “Willie is following us with Maeve.  He is not far away.”</div> <div>      “Daoirdre said she's a succubus?” Quentin whispered back.</div> <div>      Barnabas smiled grimly.  “An appropriate gift, wouldn't you say, for my old friend?”</div> <div>      “But how are you going to get them together?”</div> <div>      “Oh, cousin, surely you must have more faith in me than to ask that!  Now, come along, and you will see!”</div> <div>      Quentin grinned.  This was going to be very interesting indeed.  Now that he was no longer a target of Barnabas' wrath, he could enjoy himself.  He found himself eagerly anticipating what Barnabas would do once they got back to Tara.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Surprise Encounter"><U>1:  Surprise Encounter</U></A>     <A HREF="id26.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Proscribed Venerable Love"><U>2:  A Proscribed Venerable Love</U></A>   <A HREF="id27.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Stalked by the Vampire"><U>3:  Stalked by the Vampire</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Flight to the Auld Country"><U>4:  Flight to the Auld Country</U></A>   <A HREF="id29.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Ally From Nowhere"><U>5:  Ally From Nowhere</U></A>   <A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe Peopl"><U>6:  Tales of Pookahs and the Sidhe People</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id31.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="7: The Middle Kingdom"><U>7:  The Middle Kingdom</U></A>   <A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: My Lady Healer"><U>8:  My Lady Healer</U></A>   <A HREF="id33.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Triple Betrayal"><U>9:  Triple Betrayal</U></A>   <A HREF="id34.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="10: A World Apart"><U>10:  A World Apart</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id36.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: Imbas Forosna"><U>12:  Imbas Forosna</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>