that the Marfora Siofra captured them. Besides, we belong here."
"You truly believe that there's hope for them?"
"Neron could have found them if Faragher would only have given him enough time," he said as he put his arms around her. "That's what I believe."
Catreeney relaxed in his embrace and smiled. "Then," she said, "so do I."
Fynlo surrendered his keg to her and sped away to return at once with a keg of his own to plant in the sand against hers. He bowed grandly before her, seated himself and kissed her hand. They had always savored the seaside after sunset together. The first purple-rib of the evening began singing as if it had already been doing so for hours. As the last light faded, purple-ribs were calling from the woods all up and down the beach.
Catreeney nestled her head under his chin. A shivering owl called from the timber on the far side of the camp. She thought she heard a muffled pop in the sand behind them and lifted her head just as Dyr came down furiously with his club, completely smashing Fynlo's head. She sprang to her feet with a throat shredding scream only to have Dyr grab her and clap his meaty hand over her mouth. She bit him immediately and screamed again as he yanked away his hand.
"Veyf-nafan nip snaf vi-yaph-ny!" he woofed as he smacked her with his bitten hand, knocking her senseless. "When-will you mudful hollow-heads finally grovel-crawl and big-nod-see Dyrney be your thunder-thumps? Dyrney be everything's thunder-thumps since we crawl-out-of the ground. Arrdsey-phnyr-phey-fne said-so."
Sigurd sat bolt upright at the sound of Catreeny's screams. He gave his head a shake, threw back his covers and quietly slid his claymore out of its sheath. He held his breath, listening intently. He set down his sword for a moment and pulled on his breeches. Not certain that he was hearing his own noise or something outside, he eased his way out of his tent without bothering with his shirt or shoes. Before him stood a troll-brute, looking the other way. With one big step and a furious swing, the troll's head flew from his shoulders with a metallic ping and rolled into the side of a nearby tent.
At once, another troll stepped around the corner to see what the commotion was, just in time for Sigurd to run him through. The troll took an unexpected step back, yanking the sword clean out of his hands. Sigurd desperately grabbed for its dancing hilt in the blackness as the troll tottered and fell dead.
As he struggled to free his sword, he failed to see a third troll, who stepped up unseen and smashed both his kneecaps. The troll reared back with his club to make a killing blow only to drop it as an Elf ran him through from behind. "Sigurd?" shouted the Elf. "Is that my little brother?"
"Jamys?" came a pained grunt from under the fallen troll. "Thank the Fates!"
The tunnel into the foot of Mount Sliabh was darker than most of the children had ever experienced. None of them could make out anything at all except by bumping into each other and by groping along its clammy walls. It was not very big either. Most of the older children could easily touch the ceiling, and to make matters worse, it echoed like a sewer with the sounds of their walking, rather than like some spacious cavern, making them feel very trapped and closed in indeed.They were only children after all, and even though they had bravely tramped all day long, they began at once to complain. Meanwhile, Oisin was having uneasy ruminations about trolls. " They live in caves, after all, " he thought, " and they probably could see perfectly well in here... "
"Hey," said Olloo, who was stumbling along right beside him. "Was that my eyes, or was that a flash of light? Did you see it?"
"Yea. I was hoping it wasn't just me."
"There. What is it?"
"Fire Sprites, if we're lucky. I don't think they'll hurt you. At least the ones I met once wouldn't..."
"That's not very comforting."
"Actually it is," said Oisin. "I'm not sure I would have brought
"You truly believe that there's hope for them?"
"Neron could have found them if Faragher would only have given him enough time," he said as he put his arms around her. "That's what I believe."
Catreeney relaxed in his embrace and smiled. "Then," she said, "so do I."
Fynlo surrendered his keg to her and sped away to return at once with a keg of his own to plant in the sand against hers. He bowed grandly before her, seated himself and kissed her hand. They had always savored the seaside after sunset together. The first purple-rib of the evening began singing as if it had already been doing so for hours. As the last light faded, purple-ribs were calling from the woods all up and down the beach.
Catreeney nestled her head under his chin. A shivering owl called from the timber on the far side of the camp. She thought she heard a muffled pop in the sand behind them and lifted her head just as Dyr came down furiously with his club, completely smashing Fynlo's head. She sprang to her feet with a throat shredding scream only to have Dyr grab her and clap his meaty hand over her mouth. She bit him immediately and screamed again as he yanked away his hand.
"Veyf-nafan nip snaf vi-yaph-ny!" he woofed as he smacked her with his bitten hand, knocking her senseless. "When-will you mudful hollow-heads finally grovel-crawl and big-nod-see Dyrney be your thunder-thumps? Dyrney be everything's thunder-thumps since we crawl-out-of the ground. Arrdsey-phnyr-phey-fne said-so."
Sigurd sat bolt upright at the sound of Catreeny's screams. He gave his head a shake, threw back his covers and quietly slid his claymore out of its sheath. He held his breath, listening intently. He set down his sword for a moment and pulled on his breeches. Not certain that he was hearing his own noise or something outside, he eased his way out of his tent without bothering with his shirt or shoes. Before him stood a troll-brute, looking the other way. With one big step and a furious swing, the troll's head flew from his shoulders with a metallic ping and rolled into the side of a nearby tent.
At once, another troll stepped around the corner to see what the commotion was, just in time for Sigurd to run him through. The troll took an unexpected step back, yanking the sword clean out of his hands. Sigurd desperately grabbed for its dancing hilt in the blackness as the troll tottered and fell dead.
As he struggled to free his sword, he failed to see a third troll, who stepped up unseen and smashed both his kneecaps. The troll reared back with his club to make a killing blow only to drop it as an Elf ran him through from behind. "Sigurd?" shouted the Elf. "Is that my little brother?"
"Jamys?" came a pained grunt from under the fallen troll. "Thank the Fates!"
The tunnel into the foot of Mount Sliabh was darker than most of the children had ever experienced. None of them could make out anything at all except by bumping into each other and by groping along its clammy walls. It was not very big either. Most of the older children could easily touch the ceiling, and to make matters worse, it echoed like a sewer with the sounds of their walking, rather than like some spacious cavern, making them feel very trapped and closed in indeed.They were only children after all, and even though they had bravely tramped all day long, they began at once to complain. Meanwhile, Oisin was having uneasy ruminations about trolls. " They live in caves, after all, " he thought, " and they probably could see perfectly well in here... "
"Hey," said Olloo, who was stumbling along right beside him. "Was that my eyes, or was that a flash of light? Did you see it?"
"Yea. I was hoping it wasn't just me."
"There. What is it?"
"Fire Sprites, if we're lucky. I don't think they'll hurt you. At least the ones I met once wouldn't..."
"That's not very comforting."
"Actually it is," said Oisin. "I'm not sure I would have brought
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