Uncail Fiach held good to his assurance of leaving as many defenders as possible. Accordingly, only half a dozen rode out from the fort in the direction of the moutain. Béibhinn rode beside Uncail Fiach. Behind came Senen the eldest son of Gearóid, Gearóid's brother Domhnall and An tUaisle Caoimhín, the filí of the family - a man reknowned for his wisdom and powers of persuasion. 

The summer sun slanted down between the full leaved puffs of trees  as they rode to the lowlands, the grasses laden with flowers, jewel bright. Their sweet perfume filled the air, already growing heavy with warmth and the hum of flies.

A fitting day to ride out on a great deed Béibhinn thought. But worry occupied too much of her mind to admit much excitement. The same humour pervaded the others it seemed, for once down on the flatter land they stirred the horses to canter, leaving the clouds of flies far behind; and scarce a word was uttered as they rode through the summer countryside. Skirting the hills, it was not long before they were riding alongside forest, but never entering that domain of wild creatures.

In a valley with a rushing stream they broke in the mid afternoon to eat, but soon were riding on again. Into lands unfamiliar to Béibhinn save previously as a green smudge in the distance. The land ran wilder, with rarely a asight of a fort or a dwelling, and no churches or monasteries at all.

Even anxiety could not entirely keep the thrilllof thrill of newness from her heart, especially as great Sliabh na bhFian rose rose above them, its grey-brown shoulders rising from surrounding mantle of woods.

Yet a heaviness lay in the air. Due to the heat she told herself. But could heat alone make one, surrounded by armed warriors feel uneasy for having neither dagger nor sword herself? She pushed it away, yet the fear returned like the gaze of hidden eyes. All they greater as they began to ride up and along the spurs of the mountain, thoruogh the cattle filled lands of The O' hAermhirgín and Uncail Fiach loosened his sword in its leather scabbard.

Then his lios came in sight before them, its great wooden ramparts raised on a broad plataue of the mountain. Flies rose from the long grass the track wove through and the whiff of smoke came on the afternoon air.

The lios was much greater than any Beibhin had ever entered. Many rings of earthen ramparts enclosing animal pens and lesser dwellings had first to be crossed before they entered the central enclosure with its fine thatched houses standing against the walls.

By this time Uncail Fiach had stated their names and  wishes so often that The O' hAemhighín himself had got word and now he stood in the centre of the courtyard, the fur of his mantle shining in the the late afternoon light.

Béibhinn could not but be surprised at his appearance. Quite what she had expected she was not sure - someone younger perhaps? A man more valiant and warrior like in appearance?

The O'hAermhirghín carried a sword indeed, but it seemed out of place with his thinning hair and amiable face.

"Fiach Ó Bhriain!" he exclaimed heartily as they dismounted, "Cead mile failte roimhe! And what brings you into my part of the land?"

Uncail Fiach returned his politeness curtly, handing his pony to one of the boys who had come over.

With a final pat, Beibhinn surrendered her own also.

"Bad tidings," said Uncail.

The Ó'hAermhirghín's heavy face creased into a slight grimace.

"Not of the gathering I hope. It is my regret that I could not go myself, but I deemed it wisest not to leave my lands. Not with - him - so near."

"It is about that that we come. My nephew and his men were attacked as they themslves were returning. One is greatly wounded and of Ruadhán there is no trace. I believe he may be held by An Beitheach."

The Ó'hAermhirghín listened closely, face expressionless.

"Come into my hall," he said, "We shall discuss this. Away from the eyes, and ears of the mountain." Ast they moved towards the long wooden building behind him, Uncle Fiach seemed to recall Béibhinn's presence. "My niece, Béibhinn Ní Bhriain," he said, presenting her. "Daughter of my brother and Eithne Ní Riain.   She it was who first found the site of the attack and brought us word. She has come to tell you herself what it was that she saw."

"The warmest welcomes of my house before you also" said The Ó'hAermhirghín, "and when your  tales are all told, my - good lady shall see that you are - well looked after."

 They entered The Ó'hAermhirhín's great hall, the place seeming dark as a cave after the sunshine outside. Though a small round beam of light fell from the smoke hole onto the unlit hearth,  touching as it fell the sooty cobwebs that danced from the thatch. A carved chair stood at one end, but all other furniture was but half assembled trestle tables, as though the preparations fo or tidyings up after a great feast were in hand.

They made their way to the wooden chairs at the far end, feet crackling over the dry rushes on the floor. Here the men seated themselves and fell into discussion of what had occurred.

Beibhinn listened mostly, except when called upon to recount her story.

Uncail Fiach and An tUaisle Caoimhín did not have to exert themselves in order to persuade The Ó'hAermhirghín of the necessity of war against An Beitheach. Indeed, their host's willing  agreement and pledge of arms almost seemed, to Beibhinn's eyes at least, to have surprised them. As though they had come prepared to push a great boulder, only to have it roll away at the first touch. 

How long they discussed the finer points of the intended war - numbers of men, intended allies, ponies, paths and weaponry - Béibhinn could not have told. The talk excited her strangely, raising confidence that soon Ruadhán would be back among them. And yet despite her interest, her eyes kept sliding closed. There was a thickness in the air of the hall, a faint musty smell. It seemed to her as if the age of the trees that made the darkened walls had had somehow seeped into the place, filling each breath one drew with the dozy forgetfulness of eternity.

Senen  yawned, trying hard to smother it before the sight of the other men. Then Béibhinn yawned also, even less successful in her efforts of concealment.

"Come now!" exclaimed The Ó'hAermhirghín, "What a shameful host I have been not to offer you meat or drink" They murmured assurances of no blame being held to him.

"But you shall have plenty tonight,"  he said, "I shall see that you are bountifully supplied, if you are but willing to wait but a short while longer,"

As he spoke, a tall woman entered the hall clad in a pale grey gown belted wih soft gold. Her fair hair, so pale as to be almost grey, also was fastened and banded with gold.

"Ailbhe a stór, " The Ó'hAermhirghín rose to his feet, "These are Fiach Ó'Bhriain, An tUaisle Caoimhín and the kinsmen of The Ó'Bhriain. 

"Fáilte," said the beauty with a gentle smile. She swished across the floor, coming to stand near Béibhinn.

"Béibhinn, the eldest daughter of my brother, " saint Uncail Fiach.

Ailbhe inclined her head to her in greeting.

Beibhinn gazed up at the young lady before her. Or was she young? She seemed so. And yet when one gazed on her face it seemed futile to assign an age to her. She was above such things.

"They are to be included for dinner?' Ailbhe asked The Ó'hAermhirghín

He nodded. "Do," They have travelled all day," He hesitated, a flicker passed over his face, "they have come about - An Beitheach,"

Ailbhe's grey eeyes opened wide, "I shall leave you to your discussions so," she said, moving as though to leave.

"Our discussions are at an end  for the night said Uncail Fiach, "If you do not mind, I wish to see to our ponies" 

"If that will not cause you to miss your dinner," laughed The Ó'hAermhirghín.

The men, except for An tUaisle Caoimhín the fílí, walked out.

He, Beibhinn noticed was quietly studying Ailbhe. Not, she was relieved to note, as he might have been expected to look upon such an Aisling, but rather as he might have studied a verse of poetry which he could not get quite right.

Untroubled, Ailbhe came over to Beibhinn's shoulder.

"Will you not come with me ?" She asked, "You are travel stained and I have many a dress  that would suit you,"

"Go raibh míle maith agat," replied Béibhinn, "but if you do not mind, I too would like to see that my pony is settled." With a polite smile she slid away from Ailbhe and left the hall for the cool evening.

Outside, as she crossed the fort's courtyard to the outer animal enclosures, she wondered what had caused her to refuse such a kind offer. No reason. Rather, the words seemed to have said themselves.

Then Béibhnn, seeing her uncle ahead bounded after him.

The sky itself wore the shadows of twilight yet the grass still glowed green, as though lit by its own light. Uncle Fiach leaned over the wooden fence of the enclosure, speaking with his animals.

"Oíche mhait, ' said Béibhinn, quite unnecessarily.

"Beibhinn." he replied. They were silent for some time, offering the ponies grass over the fence.

Overhead a single star climbed above the mountain's shadow.

"That went well?" said Beibhinn eventually.

"It did."

"You are not content?"

Uncle Fiach dropped his voice " The O'hAermhirghín I may have asked because of his familiarity with the mountain and the position of his lands, but he speaks out of both sides of his mouth."

Béibhinn nodded.

"Watch him," said Uncle Fiach, "and watch that woman also."

"I am not sure An tUaisle Caoimhín likes her," said Béibhinn quietly, adding " An tUaisle Caoimhín reminds me of the ponies,"

Uncle looked up.

"He, well - he seems sensitive to - many things. Sometimes I think he reads more than codexes and manuscripts. Úaireanta  I almost feel he can read souls."

"Uncle smiled, "He's a wise man," he said.

"That's it."

They remained in the twilight some time longer, listening to the rooks milling in their nests in the trees about the mountain. The ponies were well content grazing the good turf and eventually the moment could be delayed no longer. Uncail Fiach and Bebhinn returned to The Ó'hAermhirghín's hall.

Long trestles had been set up along both sides of the hall and a great fire burned in the middle. Most were already occupied by The Ó'hAermhirghín's people. He himself brought Uncail Fiach, Béibhinn, An tUaisle Caoimhín and the others up to the head of the hall to sit with him; Uncle Fiach at his side, Béibhnn beside Ailbhe.

The Ó'hAermhighín's dogs wandered in and out between the the tables, their great grey backs bumping against Beibhinn's legs, their noses ever sniffling for scraps which she willingly dropped to htem.

Ailbhe, her pale, gold-banded hair seeming to glow in the hot, firelit dusk spoke pleasantly with Béibhinn, leaving he men to their own discussions, which became progressively more racous as the evening progressed.

It seemed to Beibhinn strange to be having a feast in such circumstances. The fire heated the hall terribly and the noise of the men sounded painful in her tired ears. More and more she longed for an end to the evening.

But once most of the eating had ended, The Ó' hAermhirghín called forward the fílí of his house, an ancient man who leisurely recounted the fame of the family. Beyond the chinks in the thatch the summer night drew in darker and stars winked throught the smoke hole. Silver brothers to the sparks.

Ever more so, a mood of boistrous unrest flowed abut the hall, affecting even, Beibhinn noticed in alarm Senen.

Fool! She thought. At least Uncail and the others had more sense.

Suddenly Ailbhe rose to her feet, swishing across the hall like a silver spectre and returning with a small carved harp.

Béibhinn reached down wearily to scratch the head of one of the hounds and watched Ailbhe seat herself, running long white fingers over the strings. Then Béibhin stiffened, silence like a damp blanket falling over the hall, for the music that rose from the harp was exquisite beyond words.

Béibhinn forgot the dog and leaned forwards, the better to absorb every note. Ailbhe played the harp for some long moments, time itself seeming to fade. Then, once certain that she held the ears of every every man in the hall, Ailbhe began softly to sing.

Author's note:

When you're combing through the names of all your friends, friends' brothers and the calandar of Irish saints to try to come up with names for all the characters.... XD

Fear not, the character list thins down substantially very soon. (Just as well, I'm SICK of typing Fádás!!!)

Please vote and comment if you'r enjoying this...or not, as the case may be. I'm happy to get constructive criticism too!