Elphame's Choice
Chapter Twenty-Five
The evening meal had been delicious, and even though Elphame was beginning to wonder about the prolonged absence of her brother and the Huntress, she sipped her wine and chatted with Danann. She wasn't his nursemaid. Cuchulainn could take care of himself - as could Brighid.
And then there was Lochlan. When she'd told Brighid to take Cu hunting, she had only been thinking about Brenna and her brother. What if the Huntress had stumbled across more of those "unusual" tracks?
Or worse, what if Cuchulainn had?
She tried to smile and pay polite attention as she nodded at something the old Stonemaster was saying, and then she turned to Brenna, trying once again to coax her into the conversation. The Healer wouldn't be coaxed. She was silent, resolutely staring at her plate, only glancing up fretfully at the sound of someone entering the chamber.
Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to send Cu away. Maybe she should have let him blunder after Brenna. Elphame sighed and was pouring herself more wine when the clatter of hooves announced Brighid's return. The Huntress entered the chamber with an odd, half smile on her lips. She caught Elphame's eye and winked before Cuchulainn rushed into the room.
"Brenna!" he barked. "I need you."
Elphame saw the Healer's body jerk, but when Brenna registered Cuchulainn's expression the shy maiden disappeared. Instantly, she was on her feet moving toward him.
"Where are you wounded?" she asked in the calm, clear voice of an experienced Healer.
Elphame's stomach rolled, Brighid's wink forgotten. Her brother was hurt? She pushed back from the table and hurried after Brenna. The room fell abruptly silent causing the commands the Healer shot at Cu to seem amplified.
"Sit here." She ordered two workers from the nearest bench and pushed Cu's shoulder down so that he was forced to take their place. "I see no blood. Did you fall from your horse?" She shot a glance at Brighid. "What happened to him?"
"Brenna." He captured the hand that was trying to feel his wrist for a racing pulse. "It's not me. It's her."
The warrior opened the front of his tunic and pulled out a small, disheveled bundle of gray fur.
Brenna tried to back a step away from him, but he tightened his grip on her hand and refused to allow her to retreat.
"What game do you play, Cuchulainn?" Her voice was cold and angry.
Elphame peered over her friend's shoulder at the dirty gray fluff. "Is it alive?"
"Just barely," he told his sister. Then he turned back to Brenna. "And I'm not playing any game. I need you to help me save the cub."
"Where is its mother?" Brenna shook her hand free of him, but this time she didn't move away. She stepped closer and began examining the little cub.
"Dead in the forest. As are her four siblings."
"Did you kill her?" Brenna asked sharply.
Brighid snorted a laugh. "Cuchulainn was no threat to any beast today. The warrior missed everything he shot at." She ignored Cuchulainn's scowl. "We found the mother dead. He insisted that I track her trail back to her den."
Elphame moved to her brother's side and tentatively touched the little creature's matted fur. The wolf cub was young; she wasn't much bigger than Cu's hand. Her eyes were closed and matted with filth, as was the rest of her coat. The cub's nose was pale and dry. If she hadn't made a faint whimpering sound El wouldn't have believed she was alive.
"She is very weak and dehydrated - probably gone at least two days without any nourishment at all."
Brenna put her finger in the cub's mouth and it suckled weakly. "It is a good sign that she's still interested in suckling, but she needs milk - lots of it, and often. And she may not live, no matter what you do."
"What I do?" Cu said quickly. "But I thought that you would - "
Brenna's narrowed eyes cut him off.
Elphame laughed at her brother's expression. "Looks like you have a puppy, brother-mine."
"Wolf cub," Cuchulainn grumbled. "She's not a puppy, she's a wolf cub."
"Bring your wolf cub back to the kitchen. Wynne will have cheesecloth. I can show you how to make a milk teat." All business, Brenna headed for the entrance to the kitchen. Cu smuggled the little cub back inside his tunic, and along with the chuckles that washed through the room, he followed her.
"A wolf cub, huh?" Elphame grinned at Brighid.
"In theory it was an excellent idea. Bring a baby creature who needs healing to the Healer he's trying to woo. It would melt most maidens' hearts."
"Brenna is not most maidens."
"Exactly."
"She's taking it!"
Relief flooded Cuchulainn's voice. He was sitting on the chair that rested beside the little desk in the tent that was now his instead of his sister's. Part of his plan had definitely worked. Brenna was alone with him in his tent. Wynne had chased them from the kitchen saying that the only beasts she allowed there were dead and ready for the stewing pot. He'd wadded up a blanket and had the cub propped on his lap, makeshift teat filled with milk all ready to revive the creature. But she had refused to suckle. Whimpering and whining pitifully, the beast had seemed bent on dying.
"Carefully and steadily, she is not a battle to be won," Brenna had instructed him. "She has suffered much. You must make her feel that it is safe enough for her to suckle."
So Cuchulainn had cajoled and coaxed until, finally, the little cub had latched onto the milky cloth. He beamed at Brenna.
"This is good, isn't it! Look at how well she is drinking."
Brenna refused the smile that hovered just beneath the surface of her face. The virile young warrior had never look as appealing as he did at that moment when he was tousled, milky and smelling of wolf dung.
"Do not get your hopes up. She is not out of danger." Cuchulainn frowned and let one free finger rub through the cub's matted scruff, which caused the little creature to growl low in her throat and suckle harder.
"See," Cu's grin was fierce. "She has the heart of a warrior. She did not die with the others. She will not die now."
Brenna's lips tilted up just the slightest bit. "You could be right. Well," she said, all business again, "you have a long night before you. There's enough milk here, as well as fresh cheesecloth. I think you should sleep with her tucked next to your skin. She'll stay warm that way, and she'll awaken you when she needs to feed again." She nodded at Cu, who was watching her with wide, incredulous eyes. "You'll be fine. I'll check on you in the morning."
"Wait - " He would have grabbed her and held her there, but he didn't have a free hand. "You can't just leave."
"Surely you did not think that I would be spending the night with you, did you Cuchulainn?" She would not duck her head and she would not hide, but her voice had grown soft and sounded much younger than her Healer's voice.
"Not with me," he assured her hastily. "With us."
"Are you saying that I should treat this situation as if she is my human patient?" she asked, shifting instantly from maiden to Healer.
Cu nodded, looking relieved.
"Then my opinion as a Healer is that my patient is in the very capable hands of her...um...adopted parent, and does not need me until morning. Good night, Cuchulainn." Holding open the tent flap she hesitated.
"Two last things. First, even though she smells like a nest of wild dog dung, do not bathe her tonight. It would be too much for her small system. You may bathe her tomorrow - if she lives. Second, do not forget that you must take a wet cloth and help her pass her liquids as well as her feces, just as her mother would." With those words she did smile, right before she turned and left the tent.
Cuchulainn closed his mouth.
The cub growled and butted against his hand, searching for more milk in the empty cheesecloth.
"All right, fearsome one. I'll do your bidding." He shifted the cub around in his lap and prepared more milk. "But you saw her smile at us, didn't you? It's a good sign. It won't be much longer and she'll have to admit that she likes us." He kept up a one-sided conversation with the smelly little creature. Vocalizing determination was a positive step. Say it enough and it would be true. At least that was what Cuchulainn fervently hoped.
Elphame was finally alone, and, thanks to Cuchulainn's new acquisition, she was assured of her privacy
- although at first he had been the reason that Brighid had insisted on accompanying her to her chamber and had even stayed during her Chieftain's bath, regaling El with her brother's misadventures that day.
Elphame smiled in remembrance even as she wound the soft blue and green plaid around her body and secured it into place with the MacCallan brooch.
"Thank you, Mama," she whispered as her hand lingered on the fine fabric that had been one of the many gifts that had arrived the day before from Epona's temple. Honestly, she didn't care overmuch about the sumptuous linens and the other frivolities her mother thought necessities, but the gift of her clan's tartan -
that was a jewel beyond price.
Dressed, she approached the arched entrance that led down to her bathing chamber, and to the secret passage beyond.
She let her fingertips caress the stones that were the body of her home as she moved resolutely down the stairs. Did she know what she was doing? Elphame drew a deep breath. Yes - yes she did.
Show me the door to the passage.
Instantly the familiar tingling tickled her fingers, followed by the warmth created by the golden string that glowed from her hand and around the wall, to end in a glowing sphere in the middle of the hidden door.
She followed the thread as her heartbeat escalated. Taking a torch from its fitting on the wall of the bathing chamber, she pressed the smooth, raised spot. This time the door opened silently, as if it had been breathlessly waiting for her touch.
Elphame lifted the torch, and held it within the entrance as she peered into the dark tunnel. The walls were narrow and covered with a damp film of silvery cobweb. She shivered, thinking of skittering spiders. The ceiling was low and rough; the stale air smelled of damp rot. She pressed her hand against the wall of the tunnel. Through the cold, slick surface Elphame felt the pulse of the castle and the stone warmed under her touch. She breathed a long sigh of relief as she watched the golden string unravel and snake quickly along the wall. She couldn't see the end with her eyes, but she could sense it through the very blood that pulsed within her veins. She knew that somewhere at the end of the ancient tunnel, stone met forest and emptied into the night.
Before her determination could waver, Elphame entered the tunnel. It ran straight and level, and even though it was musty and cool the walls surrounded her with a sense of quiet strength. The echo of her hooves against the stone floor was a familiar, comfortable sound. As she made her way through the tunnel, Elphame's thoughts wandered to the MacCallans who had lived for generations in the castle. How many times had an ancestor trodden this path? How many rendezvous had the tunnel enabled?
Rendezvous...her stomach pitched nervously.
"Epona, let me be doing the right thing." Her voice drifted eerily around her and she considered calling out for The MacCallan - his company would definitely be comforting. "Hrumph." El purposefully copied her brother's favorite expression. She was The MacCallan now; she needed to act like it. Her decisions were her own to make, and her own to act upon.
She broke off her thought as her torch's flickering light danced on the end of the tunnel. There were stone steps leading up to a tangled mass of roots and underbrush. She placed the torch in a holder conveniently located on the edge of the wall, freeing her hands to pull aside the jumble of plants and leaves that clogged the exit - and, with surprisingly little effort, she popped out of the tunnel like a cork coming to the surface.
Elphame picked leaves from her hair while her eyes accustomed themselves to the night's darkness. She
was far enough within the forest that she couldn't detect any sign of lights from the castle, but she could clearly hear the pounding of the surf, so she knew she must be near the cliff's edge. She looked back at the entrance to the tunnel and shook her head in amazement. From the outside it looked like just another craggy hole in the forest where a little lip of land dipped and curved. It blended with the land so well that she'd have to be careful, or she'd have a hard time finding it when she was ready to return.
She looked around trying to see into the night-darkened forest. She should have waited longer, until the moon had climbed high enough to be of more help. Then what? Sure, she would have been able to see better, but how much help would that be if she didn't know where to look?
She had no idea where Lochlan was.
He had come when the boar attacked her. He had come when she was alone yesterday. But how had he known? She squinted her eyes, thinking. She hadn't even known that he existed the first time, but yesterday she had said his name aloud, and he had simply appeared.
"Call for me, my heart. I will never be far from you."
Her memory repeated his words in her mind. She shrugged her shoulders. There was really nothing else for her to do. She couldn't very well search through the entire forest for him. Feeling more than a little foolish, Elphame cleared her throat and tentatively spoke his name.
"Lochlan." It came out as little more than a whisper.
She frowned and chastised herself - as if he could hear that.
"Lochlan!" Elphame called his name. Her skin prickled with the power that suddenly surrounded her. The wind took the echo of the sound and blew it up through the piney boughs of the trees where it hovered, repeating Lochlan...Lochlan...Lochlan.. .over and over until it gently dissipated, like sun-kissed fog.
"Magic." Her lips formed the word, but no sound emerged. It hadn't been her imagination or the bump on her head; Lochlan's name was magic.
Elphame knew he was there before she could see him. She felt him. Like she felt the pulse of the castle through its stone, she could sense his presence through her blood.
"Lochlan." She repeated his name, delighted again at the magic it created as it flew on the wind and wrapped around her.
"I am here, my heart."
And then there was Lochlan. When she'd told Brighid to take Cu hunting, she had only been thinking about Brenna and her brother. What if the Huntress had stumbled across more of those "unusual" tracks?
Or worse, what if Cuchulainn had?
She tried to smile and pay polite attention as she nodded at something the old Stonemaster was saying, and then she turned to Brenna, trying once again to coax her into the conversation. The Healer wouldn't be coaxed. She was silent, resolutely staring at her plate, only glancing up fretfully at the sound of someone entering the chamber.
Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to send Cu away. Maybe she should have let him blunder after Brenna. Elphame sighed and was pouring herself more wine when the clatter of hooves announced Brighid's return. The Huntress entered the chamber with an odd, half smile on her lips. She caught Elphame's eye and winked before Cuchulainn rushed into the room.
"Brenna!" he barked. "I need you."
Elphame saw the Healer's body jerk, but when Brenna registered Cuchulainn's expression the shy maiden disappeared. Instantly, she was on her feet moving toward him.
"Where are you wounded?" she asked in the calm, clear voice of an experienced Healer.
Elphame's stomach rolled, Brighid's wink forgotten. Her brother was hurt? She pushed back from the table and hurried after Brenna. The room fell abruptly silent causing the commands the Healer shot at Cu to seem amplified.
"Sit here." She ordered two workers from the nearest bench and pushed Cu's shoulder down so that he was forced to take their place. "I see no blood. Did you fall from your horse?" She shot a glance at Brighid. "What happened to him?"
"Brenna." He captured the hand that was trying to feel his wrist for a racing pulse. "It's not me. It's her."
The warrior opened the front of his tunic and pulled out a small, disheveled bundle of gray fur.
Brenna tried to back a step away from him, but he tightened his grip on her hand and refused to allow her to retreat.
"What game do you play, Cuchulainn?" Her voice was cold and angry.
Elphame peered over her friend's shoulder at the dirty gray fluff. "Is it alive?"
"Just barely," he told his sister. Then he turned back to Brenna. "And I'm not playing any game. I need you to help me save the cub."
"Where is its mother?" Brenna shook her hand free of him, but this time she didn't move away. She stepped closer and began examining the little cub.
"Dead in the forest. As are her four siblings."
"Did you kill her?" Brenna asked sharply.
Brighid snorted a laugh. "Cuchulainn was no threat to any beast today. The warrior missed everything he shot at." She ignored Cuchulainn's scowl. "We found the mother dead. He insisted that I track her trail back to her den."
Elphame moved to her brother's side and tentatively touched the little creature's matted fur. The wolf cub was young; she wasn't much bigger than Cu's hand. Her eyes were closed and matted with filth, as was the rest of her coat. The cub's nose was pale and dry. If she hadn't made a faint whimpering sound El wouldn't have believed she was alive.
"She is very weak and dehydrated - probably gone at least two days without any nourishment at all."
Brenna put her finger in the cub's mouth and it suckled weakly. "It is a good sign that she's still interested in suckling, but she needs milk - lots of it, and often. And she may not live, no matter what you do."
"What I do?" Cu said quickly. "But I thought that you would - "
Brenna's narrowed eyes cut him off.
Elphame laughed at her brother's expression. "Looks like you have a puppy, brother-mine."
"Wolf cub," Cuchulainn grumbled. "She's not a puppy, she's a wolf cub."
"Bring your wolf cub back to the kitchen. Wynne will have cheesecloth. I can show you how to make a milk teat." All business, Brenna headed for the entrance to the kitchen. Cu smuggled the little cub back inside his tunic, and along with the chuckles that washed through the room, he followed her.
"A wolf cub, huh?" Elphame grinned at Brighid.
"In theory it was an excellent idea. Bring a baby creature who needs healing to the Healer he's trying to woo. It would melt most maidens' hearts."
"Brenna is not most maidens."
"Exactly."
"She's taking it!"
Relief flooded Cuchulainn's voice. He was sitting on the chair that rested beside the little desk in the tent that was now his instead of his sister's. Part of his plan had definitely worked. Brenna was alone with him in his tent. Wynne had chased them from the kitchen saying that the only beasts she allowed there were dead and ready for the stewing pot. He'd wadded up a blanket and had the cub propped on his lap, makeshift teat filled with milk all ready to revive the creature. But she had refused to suckle. Whimpering and whining pitifully, the beast had seemed bent on dying.
"Carefully and steadily, she is not a battle to be won," Brenna had instructed him. "She has suffered much. You must make her feel that it is safe enough for her to suckle."
So Cuchulainn had cajoled and coaxed until, finally, the little cub had latched onto the milky cloth. He beamed at Brenna.
"This is good, isn't it! Look at how well she is drinking."
Brenna refused the smile that hovered just beneath the surface of her face. The virile young warrior had never look as appealing as he did at that moment when he was tousled, milky and smelling of wolf dung.
"Do not get your hopes up. She is not out of danger." Cuchulainn frowned and let one free finger rub through the cub's matted scruff, which caused the little creature to growl low in her throat and suckle harder.
"See," Cu's grin was fierce. "She has the heart of a warrior. She did not die with the others. She will not die now."
Brenna's lips tilted up just the slightest bit. "You could be right. Well," she said, all business again, "you have a long night before you. There's enough milk here, as well as fresh cheesecloth. I think you should sleep with her tucked next to your skin. She'll stay warm that way, and she'll awaken you when she needs to feed again." She nodded at Cu, who was watching her with wide, incredulous eyes. "You'll be fine. I'll check on you in the morning."
"Wait - " He would have grabbed her and held her there, but he didn't have a free hand. "You can't just leave."
"Surely you did not think that I would be spending the night with you, did you Cuchulainn?" She would not duck her head and she would not hide, but her voice had grown soft and sounded much younger than her Healer's voice.
"Not with me," he assured her hastily. "With us."
"Are you saying that I should treat this situation as if she is my human patient?" she asked, shifting instantly from maiden to Healer.
Cu nodded, looking relieved.
"Then my opinion as a Healer is that my patient is in the very capable hands of her...um...adopted parent, and does not need me until morning. Good night, Cuchulainn." Holding open the tent flap she hesitated.
"Two last things. First, even though she smells like a nest of wild dog dung, do not bathe her tonight. It would be too much for her small system. You may bathe her tomorrow - if she lives. Second, do not forget that you must take a wet cloth and help her pass her liquids as well as her feces, just as her mother would." With those words she did smile, right before she turned and left the tent.
Cuchulainn closed his mouth.
The cub growled and butted against his hand, searching for more milk in the empty cheesecloth.
"All right, fearsome one. I'll do your bidding." He shifted the cub around in his lap and prepared more milk. "But you saw her smile at us, didn't you? It's a good sign. It won't be much longer and she'll have to admit that she likes us." He kept up a one-sided conversation with the smelly little creature. Vocalizing determination was a positive step. Say it enough and it would be true. At least that was what Cuchulainn fervently hoped.
Elphame was finally alone, and, thanks to Cuchulainn's new acquisition, she was assured of her privacy
- although at first he had been the reason that Brighid had insisted on accompanying her to her chamber and had even stayed during her Chieftain's bath, regaling El with her brother's misadventures that day.
Elphame smiled in remembrance even as she wound the soft blue and green plaid around her body and secured it into place with the MacCallan brooch.
"Thank you, Mama," she whispered as her hand lingered on the fine fabric that had been one of the many gifts that had arrived the day before from Epona's temple. Honestly, she didn't care overmuch about the sumptuous linens and the other frivolities her mother thought necessities, but the gift of her clan's tartan -
that was a jewel beyond price.
Dressed, she approached the arched entrance that led down to her bathing chamber, and to the secret passage beyond.
She let her fingertips caress the stones that were the body of her home as she moved resolutely down the stairs. Did she know what she was doing? Elphame drew a deep breath. Yes - yes she did.
Show me the door to the passage.
Instantly the familiar tingling tickled her fingers, followed by the warmth created by the golden string that glowed from her hand and around the wall, to end in a glowing sphere in the middle of the hidden door.
She followed the thread as her heartbeat escalated. Taking a torch from its fitting on the wall of the bathing chamber, she pressed the smooth, raised spot. This time the door opened silently, as if it had been breathlessly waiting for her touch.
Elphame lifted the torch, and held it within the entrance as she peered into the dark tunnel. The walls were narrow and covered with a damp film of silvery cobweb. She shivered, thinking of skittering spiders. The ceiling was low and rough; the stale air smelled of damp rot. She pressed her hand against the wall of the tunnel. Through the cold, slick surface Elphame felt the pulse of the castle and the stone warmed under her touch. She breathed a long sigh of relief as she watched the golden string unravel and snake quickly along the wall. She couldn't see the end with her eyes, but she could sense it through the very blood that pulsed within her veins. She knew that somewhere at the end of the ancient tunnel, stone met forest and emptied into the night.
Before her determination could waver, Elphame entered the tunnel. It ran straight and level, and even though it was musty and cool the walls surrounded her with a sense of quiet strength. The echo of her hooves against the stone floor was a familiar, comfortable sound. As she made her way through the tunnel, Elphame's thoughts wandered to the MacCallans who had lived for generations in the castle. How many times had an ancestor trodden this path? How many rendezvous had the tunnel enabled?
Rendezvous...her stomach pitched nervously.
"Epona, let me be doing the right thing." Her voice drifted eerily around her and she considered calling out for The MacCallan - his company would definitely be comforting. "Hrumph." El purposefully copied her brother's favorite expression. She was The MacCallan now; she needed to act like it. Her decisions were her own to make, and her own to act upon.
She broke off her thought as her torch's flickering light danced on the end of the tunnel. There were stone steps leading up to a tangled mass of roots and underbrush. She placed the torch in a holder conveniently located on the edge of the wall, freeing her hands to pull aside the jumble of plants and leaves that clogged the exit - and, with surprisingly little effort, she popped out of the tunnel like a cork coming to the surface.
Elphame picked leaves from her hair while her eyes accustomed themselves to the night's darkness. She
was far enough within the forest that she couldn't detect any sign of lights from the castle, but she could clearly hear the pounding of the surf, so she knew she must be near the cliff's edge. She looked back at the entrance to the tunnel and shook her head in amazement. From the outside it looked like just another craggy hole in the forest where a little lip of land dipped and curved. It blended with the land so well that she'd have to be careful, or she'd have a hard time finding it when she was ready to return.
She looked around trying to see into the night-darkened forest. She should have waited longer, until the moon had climbed high enough to be of more help. Then what? Sure, she would have been able to see better, but how much help would that be if she didn't know where to look?
She had no idea where Lochlan was.
He had come when the boar attacked her. He had come when she was alone yesterday. But how had he known? She squinted her eyes, thinking. She hadn't even known that he existed the first time, but yesterday she had said his name aloud, and he had simply appeared.
"Call for me, my heart. I will never be far from you."
Her memory repeated his words in her mind. She shrugged her shoulders. There was really nothing else for her to do. She couldn't very well search through the entire forest for him. Feeling more than a little foolish, Elphame cleared her throat and tentatively spoke his name.
"Lochlan." It came out as little more than a whisper.
She frowned and chastised herself - as if he could hear that.
"Lochlan!" Elphame called his name. Her skin prickled with the power that suddenly surrounded her. The wind took the echo of the sound and blew it up through the piney boughs of the trees where it hovered, repeating Lochlan...Lochlan...Lochlan.. .over and over until it gently dissipated, like sun-kissed fog.
"Magic." Her lips formed the word, but no sound emerged. It hadn't been her imagination or the bump on her head; Lochlan's name was magic.
Elphame knew he was there before she could see him. She felt him. Like she felt the pulse of the castle through its stone, she could sense his presence through her blood.
"Lochlan." She repeated his name, delighted again at the magic it created as it flew on the wind and wrapped around her.
"I am here, my heart."
