Emerald Magic_ Great Tales of Irish Fantasy - Andrew M. Greeley [129]
“Spoken like a poet!” Máel Dúin clapped a hand upon his shoulder, and I saw that there was much affection between them.As for the other men, they eyed the distant maidens and made approving sounds, nudging one another and trying in vain to comb their tangled beards with their fingers. “Lead on, girl.”
I led them to the dún and saw from the corner of my eye that my sisters were going on ahead to draw water from the well of the dún and heat it within the walls. Also, I saw the Lady emerge and a glimpse of her fair skin, rosy from the bath, then two maidens slipping the robe over her. And I saw that Máel Dúin looked, too, and a strange smile touched his lips.
Inside the dún, Máel Dúin’s men marveled at the strong stone walls and the arching doorways, and I could see it had been many days since they had dwelled out of the elements.
“Come,” I said to them. “You will want to bathe before the Lady receives you.”
They went without complaining, and some of them exclaimed at the sight of so many steaming tubs. Máel Dúin said nothing. Only Diurán spoke, touching my wrist with two fingers. “So we do not bathe where the Lady bathes?”
“No.” I whispered the word. “That place is sacred.”
He nodded and let me go. The pulse in my wrist throbbed.
We made ready for them while they bathed. There were things that had been brought by the isle folk and left for us; brown bread, cheese, and apples, strong ale and a slaughtered pig ready for the spit. I do not know how they knew to do such things, save that the Lady had told them, for she went forth among them every day to hear their concerns and make such judgments as were needed. Such was her duty, and such were her mysteries.
There were great splashes and shouts of laughter from behind the closed door where Máel Dúin’s men bathed; we maidens glanced at one another and nodded and smiled, as if to say, yes, that is how men behave, though we knew little of such things.
Then the Lady came among us in raiment fit for a Queen. Her robes were of the purest blue, adorned on the hems and the edges of the sleeves with gold embroidery three handspans deep. Her hair, that was a deep auburn in hue, hung down her back in a gleaming mass of autumn splendor. Two lengths of it had been braided and bound with gold cord, and these were woven into a coronet about her head. Around her throat was a great collar of gold set with blue gems, and gold sandals peeked beneath the hem of her robe.
We all paused in awe to see her in such finery, with such a brightness upon her. Eithne, who was boldest among us, spoke first. “Will you take Máel Dúin as your consort, then, Lady?”
“I will.” She smiled, and in my heart I sighed with gladness that it was not Diurán she had chosen. “This night, we shall celebrate it.My daughters, follow your own desires and make such choices as you will; or none at all as it please you.”
There was much excited whispering, then, as we laid out the bowls of warm water, soft linen towels and the shears. It did not seem there was anyone among us unwilling to make a choice. I did not take part in it, afraid that if I voiced my desires, some other might voice the same.
“Cébha.” The Lady touched my wrist, exactly as Diurán had done. I lifted my head to gaze at her lovely face. There was a shadow of sorrow in it; or of knowing. “Do not give away your heart too fast, little bird. Those who see the most may be the most dangerous to love.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I had no words.
“Ah, Danu!” She smiled once more, although the shadow had not passed, and patted my cheek. “You are young, and the heart will do as it will. Come and help me welcome our guests.”
She stood straight and tall among us as the doors to the great hall were opened, and lamplight played over her hair to make