Díoltas - Revenge

The torchlight fell golden on the warped walls, and at the levels of her knees fell into emptiness. Then she knew she was at the entrance to his cave.

She lowered the torch,  flames leaping to lick at her wrist.

"Ruadh," she called softly. No sound came but the hiss of her own voice  against the walls. "Ruadh." she called again, more sharply.

 A Dhia, A Mhuire, A Dhia, A Mhuire...her thoughts scrabbled, as a frantic fear shivered up and down her throat.

She shoved it down, barely, before the trembling got a hold of her, and dropped to her hands and knees.

 A Mhuire Máthir... She thrust the torch ahead of her in to the hole and followed it.

Her breath caught in a stab. Two bodies lay on the stone floor, slouched against the wall. The one nearest with a face like bone and hair like matted blood.

Beibhinn sprang to him, clawing at his arm and shaking it.

 She watched and shook it again, like a child with a hated doll. And the still lines of the eyelids twitched slightly.

"Ruadh!" she called at him, right in his ear, "Ruadh!" And the eyes opened slowly, unfocussed, bewildered. Beibhinn sank to her knees, shaky breaths filling her trembling frame.

Oh God. Oh thank you. Oh..

"Beibhinn?" said Ruadh, in a faint hoarse voice.

"I am here," she said, catching his arm savagely, holding him back from the abyss, "And father too. We are here."

With sudden energy, Ruadhan pulled himself to sitting. Beibhinn saw that he was no longer chained, but bound by coarse súgán rope. Then as her eyes passed over him they lit on the form just behind him.

The skin of its forehead had been torn away and hung down like a patch off an old coat, black rivulets of dry blood streaking his hair and the swollen, purpled tissue of his face. But the bright eyes that looked from under the mess were Conn's.

Beibhinn screamed.

"They - got you so." he said slowly.

Beibhinn shook her head, wide eyed. And her hand crept out to touch his arm and feel that it was soft and solid.

"No," and slowly she began to explain, uninterrupted save by the occasional cough. 

And when she ended she asked how he had come to be here, but he moved his head a fraction, as though a wanted to shake it but could not. "Later," he whispered.

And then they heard the sounds.

The faintest taps. Hardly more than the dripping of water on stone, but the men's eyes widened like children and their breath came short.

Beibhinn reached for the knife in her belt, and pulling it, dropped it upon the stone floor from fingers grown numb. They sound it made rang through the stone and bounced.

And the taps grew louder.

Ruadhan gasped something. Beibhinn seized the dagger, beginning to saw at the ropes that held his hands, the fibres crackling and snapping but so slowly, fighting the blade of the knife which she knew to be sharp.

The cave grew colder and her hands slipped, drawing blood. It was not the warm light of the torch now, with its flickering shadows, but a pale light, like sun on ice that chilled and laid bare.

And behind her a voice said "Vixen?"

Again the knife fell and rattled on the floor.

Beibhinn sprang to her feet, drawing in front of her brothers.  At the entry stood the pale lady , her garments grey and trailing, her hair banded with cold gold. And before her, a black shape...

He crossed to her in an instant, seizing her arms like his fingers would go to the bone and crush even that. His mouth curled back, baring white teeth.

"Traitor." said An Beitheach

Beibhinn tried to struggle, tried to scream, but the numbness had crept into every joint and frozen them.

Ailbhe remained motionless at the entry, guarding it, blocking the entrance to the tomb.

"You wanted no soft, sweet words," said An Beitheach, "So this time I shall not offer them." He pushed her back, between the two boys,  pinning her to the wall. 

"But the word I have for you now," he said, his voice running with venom, "Is díoltas."

He looked own at Conn and Ruadhán, their eyes black hollows in skulls.

"Your brothers to watch and your father to find."  he smiled and leaned in close to her,  "How very -"

Beibhinn spat in his face.

With a snort, An Bheiteach drew back, his grip loosening. Then staggering, he fell. His hands on her sleeves dragged her and she fell across Conn, who lay grasping An Beitheach's knees. Wrenching her arms free she stumbled back.

 Ruadh threw himself across the floor onto An Beiteach before he could rise. They rolled sideways, metal grinding on stone.

And then a scream like a blade turning stabbed through the air, high and ragged, like a woman's and yet with something - Beibhinn crouched, throwing her hands over her ears as Ailbe's voice stabbed through her head.

 Louder, louder covering all sound of the two men as they fought on the ground.

 It pulsed and gasped like a keener's cry, higher, sharper, wilder, and the stones shivered with it. Beibhinn writhed, scrabbling at her hair. 

Right to the bone it pierced and through it, rending the the links between soul and body. Snuffing the sparks of life one by -