The Well of Shades Read Online Free PDF Page A

they spin and weave, women sing of Mary, Mother of God. The Lord’sflame flickers; the coming of this man we call Colmcille will fan it to a great blaze.
    We have not yet sailed. Gabhran promised a sanctuary, but it is no longer his to give. Bridei told me once that I am everywhere. Not possible, of course; but the skills God has granted me have certainly led to extensive travel. I was there when Bridei became king of Fortriu. Iwas present when Gabhran cededthe kingship of Dalriada and Bridei pronounced sentence of banishment, a sentence commuted to a period of incarceration in recognition of the Dalriadan king’s poor health. On that field of war, with the Gaelic dead lying in their blood, I spoke of Colm and of his mission. I spoke of the place called Ioua, Yew Tree Isle, and of the making of a promise. Bridei heard me and understood. I believe hismessenger will seek us out.
    We wait, meanwhile; winter is coming, but in spring God will send us a fair wind and a fortunate tide. Colm will not give up the promise of a haven in that realm, even though the one who gave it no longer has the power to grant us our island. We will sail for the Priteni shores regardless of that; if need be, Colm will petition Bridei to grant us the land. In doingso he will be swimming against a mighty current, for the taking of Dalriada has shown Bridei of Fortriu to be a leader of immense power, and I know he is devout in his adherence to the old faith of his people. I believe the meeting of these two men will be extraordinary.
    S UIBNE, MONK OF D ERRY

    A T W HITE H ILL , it was raining. The days had grown short, dusk settling earlyover the high walls and orderly stone buildings of King Bridei’s hilltop fortress. The gardens were drenched. Water gurgled busily into drains and, below the walls, the stream coursed brimful down the pine-clad slopes of the hill.
    Derelei had spent the afternoon with Broichan, making boats from twigs and leaves and sailing them on the pond. Observing from a distance, Tuala had noted the capacityof each of them, infant and druid, to maintain a dry area around himself no matter how heavy the downpour. She’d seen also how the small craft moved, pursuing-oneanother, making a steady course without need of wind or oar, in a game of maneuvering that owed far more to the art of magic than to luck or physical skill. She hoped Broichan would remember how young her son was and that, for all hisexceptional talents, Derelei tired easily. As for the druid himself, his health was much improved since his sojourn among the healers of Banmerren, but Tuala knew he was not infallible. He, too, needed to husband his strength.
    Derelei was indoors now, eating his supper in company with his nursemaid. Today his small vocabulary had been augmented by a new word,
boat.
    It was time, Tuala had decided,to broach a particularly delicate subject with the king’s druid. She had avoided it up till now, lacking the courage to confront the man she had feared since childhood, when he had bent all his considerable will on ensuring she and his foster son did not form too strong a bond. As a child of the Good Folk, Tuala was an unlikely wife for a king of Fortriu. If Broichan had had his way, Brideiwould have wed a far more suitable girl, someone like Ana of the Light Isles, for instance. Tuala and Bridei, between them, had won that battle and in time Broichan had become almost a friend to her. He had saved Derelei’s life when fever nearly took him. Tuala had helped Broichan battle his own long illness. She had agreed to let him tutor her gifted son. Now, with a second child expected and Brideiaway seeing to a matter at Abertornie, it was time to confront Broichan with an event in his past. She did not expect him to welcome it.
    For a long time Tuala had struggled with the mystery of her identity in silence. She might never have acted on what little she had discovered if she had not observed her son’s talent developing in all its confident