For the briefest of moments Acair's and Naomha's grim looks were replaced with smiles. With both his and the Chief's hands resting over the couple's Naomha did a hasty handfasting - adding in an extra prayer that the couple not only live to enjoy the partnership, but have many years at together.
When their hands were released Laurelyn kept her fingers entwined around Thomis's, and stepped nearer so she could kiss him. She was of the opinion that the Fates would allow them time for that.
But only briefly - for Naomha was banishing the spell of silence around them - letting them hear the cheering of the men, and Acair led them all back to rejoin a very dour looking Geill Hillrover. As Laurelyn and Thomis stepped back amongst Jacques, Ulric, and the "hound" Rudolpho - she sent, ::We are to keep a tight eye on Geill and what men of his we can - at any sign of treachery lay claim to him. Kill, if needed, but that may take some explaining if things go bad.:: Before she could explain further _or_ point out Geill Hillrover from amongst her father's officers she saw Naomha signaling his bards around him, and heard the soul-tearing words of the incanation that would call the Hillrover dead to mete out Justice.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho lay just outside the little alcove watching what was happening inside it as well as those outside. Laurelyn and Thomis were holding hands. They never had before... They spoke for awhile but he couldn't actually hear anything. Even with his senstive hearing there was silence. Then, all of a sudden, Laurelyn and Thomis were kissing and everyone was cheering. Back amongst their friends, as he was making a mental note to ask them about it later, Laurelyn's voice was in his head.
Rudolpho turned to
look up at her but her lips weren't moving. He tried thinking back
to her to see if she was really talking to him. ::Are you really
talking in my head? If you are just nod.:: Laurelyn gave him
a curt almost imperceptible nod to confirm her ability to speak
telpathically with
him. ::Wow. I didn't know you could do that! I guess it'll
have to wait till later though. As soon as you show me which one
he is, I'll work my way over to Geill and kinda plop down near him.
If I can manage to get something personal of his, I can make it so he can't
move.:: As he waited for Laurelyn to point out which one Geill was,
Naomha and the other bards got together and began chanting. From
what personal experience he had and based on the fact they were chanting
in words that made his fur stand on end, Rudolpho guessed it was some sort
of spell. He had to fight to resist the urge to howl.
[Jacques]
Scratching at the unruly hair that poked out from underneath his hat, Jacques considered that whatever it was the bards were up to, it certainly didn't sound pleasant. Somehow it had a definite undertone to it that sent a shiver running up and down his spine.
He held the knives lightly in each hand, and wondered if the bards were going to be able to prevent any more killing - however they did it, whatever it was they planned.
Then, finally, he nodded to Laurelyn and wondered briefly if somewhere his soul was awash with the blood of all the years past. Wherever it was, he was glad it was no longer near him.
[Thomis]
Back among the warriors, and carefully positioned halfway between Geill and Laurelyn, Thomis finally released the storyteller's hand so that his own would be free for both sword and dagger. The incantation, even to one typically blind to magicks, weighed heavily in the air.
[Ulric]
Amidst former enemies, Ulric stood ready and wary of everyone but his travelling companions. He had no idea which of these men was Geill, and there was no telling the Hillrovers from the MacLenans from the - he shook his head and hefted his hammer impatiently - he would just have to watch his own back as well as those of his allies. The Wind and the Stones were silent, making the bard's chanting resound with a clarity that was beyond mortal means.
It was dreadful - waiting - and Ulric couldn't help but wish that the fighting itself would begin.
[Laurelyn]
As the Bards' words
swelled to a peak the Hillrover warriors began to strike their shields
in a rhythm - sounding like the mountains themselves were beating drums;
the sound wrapping itself around the Dun, as even many of the men on the
walls joined in. Though Laurelyn noted that Geill did not raise his shield
to beat upon it and that _maybe_ he had paled a little. ~It won't be the
dead that bring ye down,~ she silently promised, ~Traitor, that is the
right of the living...~ She had no shield to pound upon - only her sword,
which she gripped in her hand, and her daggers upon her belt. And
she wondered how many other men amongst the warriors were refraining to
join the summoning, whose words and rhythms she could feel sinking into
the very stone of the Dun and make it reverberate beneath her
feet.
As the Bards' summoning and the shield pounding began to quiet they could hear a new sound - that of the McLenan bards, beyond the massive gates, calling the McLenans to a battle fury. The type of fury that would know no fear or pain but would carry a warrior forward by will alone - though his body had been slain. A grim smile came to Laurelyn's face and she sent to her companions, ::Gentlemen - is there anyway to herd Geill and his entourage ahead of us? I would like them to meet the McLenans first - but without us getting slaughtered to boot.::
She almost laughed aloud when she heard Acair ordering Geill and his men to take the front lines. Normally you wouldn't send traitors to the front to meet their own allies, but with the McLenans wrapped in battle fury they wouldn't know one Hillrover from another. To her friends she added, ::I guess we won't have to 'herd' - just make sure that the traitors drink deep of what they have wrought.::
To Rudolpho she sent, ::Rudolpho, please watch out for Acair - you - of all of us - have the best chance of that. And work no spell upon Geill - unless it is of the greatest necessity - for though he is a traitor he is still a warrior, and there is no honor in making him a manniquin to be run through. He still has the right to die in battle.:: Though she knew that no battle was fought fairly even she had to respect what honor there was. And while what she said of Rudolpho's abilities were true - she also hoped to keep him from the front lines. Which was where Geill and his men were headed. For though there was a stout gate and high, manned, walls between the Hillrovers and the McLenans she knew that as driven by a battle spell as they were the McLenans would not stop till they were over the walls. No matter how many men it took.
As the warriors moved to position themselves she noted that Acair had ordered some of the men to man the inside of the Dun - if there came a time when they had to fall back.
[Rudolpho]
Though he still was
not used to hearing Laurelyn in his head, he "listened" to what she had
to say. ::I'll watch him the best I can, and I
promise I won't control
Geill. Do you know if they are going to have mages and archers?::
As he continued to speak with Laurelyn in his mind he move towards where
Acair stood. When he was near he sat by Acair's side and moved when
he did. ::...and will he be surprised if he see's me change around
him?::
[Laurelyn]
::The McLenans will be armed as we - as you heard, they too have Bards to call down spells upon us. And as for the Chief - he knows that you are "skilled" and will not strike at you.::
[Thomis]
Thomis had remained silent, allowing the chant to roll over him and listening to the counterpoint provided by the McLenan bards on the other side of the gates.
[In the Dun - Fhios McLenan and Iogan]
Near the great doors that led into the interior of the Dun - where the rear defense was forming, though in deep side halls, waited Fhios and Iogan; one on either side of the where the Hillrover warriors would hold ready.
Both Fhios and Iogan held an amulet ready - which was not to be used till they received a signal from Feachd that he and his squad were near. Then, and only then, would the words the McLenan High Bard had taught them be spoken - releasing sleep spells upon the Hillrovers' last line of defense. Which would leave the way open for the first squad to help make a push for the main gate.
Nor were the McLenans counting on just one squad - Fhios knew that more of his father's men would be coming in via the underground stream.
[In the courtyard - Ulric]
Ulric was poised, his heart beating calmly and evenly in his chest, ready for the onslaught to begin. Yet as the roar of the MacLenans' fury rose outside the walls, he looked at the warrior beside him, a young clansman... and saw fear. With a grim smile on his face he reached out and gently touched the other man on the shoulder.
"Strength to you, friend," he said, "I'll pour you a drink when this is done."
[Doinrigh]
Doinrigh Hillrover
had only seen three summers of battle, and most of those had been raids.
Not duns filled with curses, kinslayers and ancient bardic spells. He looked
up at the Chief's guest - a foreigner who was willing to fight at their
side, and said, "Aye, we can't lose - not with our ancestors standing beside
us!" There was some believe in his voice, but he also sounded like he wasn't
sure which bardic chant had chilled his blood more.
[Ulric]
Ulric wanted to tell the boy to keep his mind only on himself and staying alive, but if he wanted to think that the spirits of the dead would save the day, then so be it. He wasn't about to take away the boy's hope.
"Just stay around for that drink," he said instead. Nothing else was more important than staying alive - honor be damned - just because you were fighting for your life didn't mean you had to throw it away.
[Bronwyn]
Bronwyn was panting, hard, by the time she and Beud rounded the last corner and saw the long straight stretch of hall to the courtyard where the Hillrover warriors had gathered. Even if she had had the breath to scream the warning, she knew it would not be heard over the chanting and the cheering of the fighters. She stopped a moment, one hand braced against the wall to take several deep breaths, allowing her racing heart to slow by just a few beats. And just as she started to step forward into the intersection of a cross hall, Fiend gave a muffled growl against her ribs.
Someone was here before them.
Bronwyn froze in place, swiveling her head slowly to try to peer into the dark side halls. With one hand -- the one holding the carving knife -- she motioned Beud into silence. Then she stooped, to press her lips tightly against the girl's ear, to make certain her whisper did not carry. "The pup says there be someone in the halls before us. Stay pressed against me so they cannae see you and on the other side, run as fast as ye can to the chief. And take the pup to safety."
As she straightened, Bronwyn passed Fiend to the girl, and waited for the other to fix her smaller frame against Bronwyn's taller form, sheltered in skirts and apron. In the shadowed intersection of the halls, it would seem that only one passed. -And only one need make it to the other side,- Bronwyn thought to herself. All she had to do was cover Beud's presence, and her escape. And buy the girl time to make it to the chief's side.
Drawing another deep breath, and clutching the carving knife with a whiteknuckled hand, Bronwyn stepped into the intersection and started for the other side, keeping step with Beud's smaller feet.
[Daron]
As Thomis, Laurelyn and the others left for the courtyard, the artist wanted to protest that she was fully able to engage in battle. If only she could rid her tongue of the fur that seemed to cling to it. Daron silently vowed that, if it be her destiny to meet her end in these chill stone walls, she would have a large honorguard to accompany her...
[Keir]
"And you guard the Mistress well, Master Parch," he had murmured quietly to the Oathbound's back, knowing full well he would do nothing short of exchanging his life for her's.
A sniff of the wine revealed little except its poor quality which wrinkled the healer's nose none the less. What hint of poison Rudolpho had detected escaped him, no doubt a compound he was unfamiliar with. The Mistress said the symptoms came on fairly quickly and they certainly didn't match those Daron was displaying. Still, it could be a simple question of dosage.
"Exactly what are you feeling, Daron, anything from the time you first tried the wine?" As he waited he applied a drop to his palm and rubbed it in. It was a risk but he had to narrow down the possibilities. He hoped to have an answer before he had to sample it
[Daron]
As Daron met Keir's gaze, she tried to clear thoughts clouded by either the wine or--Maker help her!--poison. "The wine burned my throat when I drank it," she said slowly, digging the words out of her mental fog. "I'm not a wine drinker, so I thought nothing of it...and it helped ease the 'pain' in my hands." She drew a slightly trembling hand across her sweaty forehead. "Not that long ago, I felt a pain...like I had been kicked by a mule...in my stomach...if it's not something I ate disagreeing with me..." She swallowed the lump suddenly rising in her throat. "...Master Keir, am I going to die...?"
[Fionn]
"Mayhap," Fionn answered. He had finished checking Rue, and Maeve also, and quickly gathered their few belongings. Settling the infant into the carrier to nestle against his chest, he draped a cloak around Maeve's shoulders. "Laurelyn Hillrover is right," he added. The other woman's illness worried him, one so fair deserved better than this pain, but greater pain at McLenan hands -- or Hillrover traitors' -- threatened. "We must go," he insisted urgently.
Part of him wanted to go, immediately, and leave the other two to find their own way to the battlements -- his only debt was to Maeve and her daughter. But he could not simply leave them to stumble their way, unknowing into the midst of fighting.
[Keir]
The healer scowled at Fionn though he felt the same pressure to go where the Mistress had instructed. "In due time sir, in due time." Daron's description of her symptoms seemed to indicate a caustic poison, which he could test for. Unfortunately the only test that didn't take a great deal of time was to taste it himself and as Fionn had reminded him, time was short. Placing another drop on his palm, he was about to let it touch his tongue when he realized that whether it was or wasn't caustic it would not prove if Daron had imbibed it. It would determine which treatment to take, though, so he went ahead.
Even that small amount was bitter and burning, it was possible she had been poisoned and, for safety sake, he'd have to assume she had. "You'll be fine Daron." He hoped the false confidence in his voice would cover the doubt in his heart from her empathic senses. "An upset stomach most likely, from too much rich food after prolonged dependence on trail rations is all."
"Give me but a moment Fionn and we'll ALL be ready to go." He hurried to his pack, grabbing his waterskin, cup, and a packet of white powder. Regurgitives and purgatives were out, the caustic poison might burn its way through her throat or intestines. A neutralizer was called for and the powder slowly turned the water milky as he stirred it in. "Here," he ordered the suffering elf as he offered her the cup, "This will settle your stomach, if you don't go worrying yourself to death." He put on his best scowling smile, hoping she wouldn't balk at the sour medicine. "Drink it all down and we can be on our way."
[Daron]
Daron took the cup from Keir. Her brave smile masking her fears, she took a sip and nearly spit it out. As she forced herself to drink all of the chalky medicine, her face reflected her definite dislike of the taste. The pains in the artist's stomach lessened almost immediately. Now only the burning sensation in her hands--signalling her need to express her Talent--remained. But, Daron thought to herself, she could deal with that after the battle. If she survived...
Daron pushed those thoughts, and others for Fionn's and Rudolpho's safety, firmly to the back of her mind. She drew herself to her full height. "Lead the way," she declared.
[Fionn]
Without waiting for any further agreement -- or Luatha forbid, protest -- Fionn took Maeve's arm and directed her left down the hall. It wasn't an immediate path to the battlements, but it would place the greatest distance between themselves and the McLenans seeking to break through the gates.