Deirdre (Patreon)

Here's a treat for the patrons!

Originally this story was going to be one of the 52 Project, but I didn't finish it in time. It's one of my "altered tales", a fairy tale (or in this case more of a folk tale) where I've changed it significantly in some way. I started with a faithful retelling that I wrote in college, and rewrote it. It starts pretty similar and then diverges more and more as time goes on.

Surely you have heard a similar tale before, almost but not entirely like this one, of the child destined to grow to womanhood and bring grief to all Eire, the woman who was fated to cause the fall of Emain Macha, and set all Ulster to civil war.

The tale begins when Conor, the High King of Ulster, was yet a young man. He was in attendance at a banquet, along with most of everybody who was anybody in Ulster, warriors, poets and sages. Felim mac Daill the tale-teller was the host, offering a feast in celebration of the child in his wife’s belly, who was soon to be born. Felim was a tale-teller of great renown, so much so that he had received the highest honor any storyteller could receive, to be the chief storyteller to the King. He was not, however, a prophet. It was his lot to tell stories after they happened, not before. He had no way of knowing his child's story before she was grown.

He and his wife-- and all Ulster, in fact-- had the first hint of their child's destiny at that banquet. Among the guests was Cathba, an ageless Druid who some claimed had been Conor's father. It was a good feast, with plenty of meat and drink for all, and plenty of laughter and drunken merriment. As the night wore on, more men fell asleep from the food and drink, and were put to bed. Felim's wife, the hostess, started off to bed as well-- she was heavily pregnant, after all, and needed her sleep. But as she began to leave, a shriek was heard.

It was not exactly a human sound. Somewhat muffled, childish and high, full of a terrible grief, the scream echoed through the house, bringing terror to the ears of those who heard it. The warriors who had been sleeping awakened, and the ones who were drunk sobered in seconds. Hands went to swords, and every man was alert for an enemy. But those who'd been near Felim's wife had heard the scream better, and knew where it had come from-- it had emanated from the woman's swollen middle. It was the unborn child who had cried out.

When the warriors were told of this, they sheathed their swords again, but there was a great deal of uneasy muttering-- what sort of child could scream from the womb? And why? Felim himself demanded the truth of his wife. "Why did our child cry out like that? What could have caused such terror and grief?"

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't know. I can't tell. No woman knows what her womb bears." She turned to Cathba, the Druid seer, who was listening to the exchange with interest. "Fair Cathba, is there any way I can persuade you to tell us why our child screamed? Your skill as a sage and a seer is known throughout Erin--surely you can uncover the reason for us..."

Cathba looked at her with his intense seer's eyes. He looked at the swelling of her belly, then glanced at her husband. "Ah, Felim, my storyteller friend," he said softly, "your child will be sung of by bards forever…" Then he turned his attention back to the woman's womb. Few men were there to watch-- most had gone back to bed, since an unborn child's scream, interesting and eerie though it might be, was not quite enough to keep drink-satiated men awake. But there were some, and they listened as Cathba slipped into a half-chant, his eyes unfocused and far away.

"It was a woman who howled in the hollow of your womb; a woman with golden hair, bright as the sun and long as the day, with eyes as blue and as green as the shining shallows of the sea, with skin as white as the snow and teeth like pearls, lips as red as rubies, as red as the blood that shall be spilled for her. It was a woman of unsurpassed loveliness and terrible sadness. Heroes will fight and die for her, kings will court her and come to harm, and queens will burns with jealous envy to see her perfect body, her beautiful face." He stepped forward, the far-seeing glaze gone from his eyes, and placed his hand on the woman's stomach. The baby moved at his touch.

Cathba nodded. "Yes, that's what you were trying to tell us, little Deirdre, wasn't it?" he said softly. "Your eyes have not yet opened to this world, and so you can see what is to come. You cry out at the thought of the death and evil you will bring, but you will bring it all the same." He lifted his hand and stepped back. "Name her Deirdre, this girl-child you will bear. She will bring sorrow."

Felim's wife stared in horror. "You've cursed my child!" she cried out.

"I don't cause fate to happen with my words. What is fated will be. I merely tell you her destiny." He shrugged. "Perhaps it would have been better had I not, but that's what I am-- a prophet. And you did ask." He turned toward the door. "Go to bed, woman. The child will be born in three days' time, while your home is still entertaining the lot of us, and you'll need strength for the birth."

***

In three days, as Cathba had predicted, Felim's wife went into labor. It was a hard labor, but fairly short, and by nightfall the child had come into the world. Though newborns were usually strange little things, ugly and red from the exertion of their passage, this one already had a baby's beauty, Gold fuzz covered her soft infant head, and already, though she had been born only an hour ago, her eyes could follow people about. Cathba took her in his arms and spoke to her, telling her of her destiny.

"Deirdre All-Gifted, with intelligence and courage and later, the gift of far-seeing, your beauty shall be your fame and your death. And not only your death, but the deaths of many brave men as well. The sons of Usna will come to exile and death for you, fatal beauty; Emain Macha, Conor's great palace, will burn; the hero Fergus mac Roy will be exiled from Ulster, and cause death and woe to the High King for you; Conor's son Feena shall die at an Ulsterman hero's hand; and there shall be graves everywhere, and the lamenting of women, and the broken bones of heroes shall strew the fields of Ulster, all for your beauty, fatal woman, lovely Deirdre."

The warriors who had been disturbed by the child's scream three nights ago were all there to listen to Cathba's prophecy, and they looked at each other in shock as they heard it. A murmuring broke out among them, and one shouted, "Kill the child!" Others took up the cry. "Destroy her, and thwart fate. Preserve our beautiful land, our heroes, our homes! Kill Deirdre!"

Felim's tongue was frozen; he who had mesmerized men with a thousand tales could not find a single word to save his daughter from this angry mob. But Conor was accustomed to shouting down crowds of angry men. "No! By all that's holy, no! What kind of foulness is this, to talk of killing a harmless girl-baby?" He glared at them all until they subsided. "Fate can be thwarted. This is what I will do; I'll take her away and have her raised in secret, to be my own wife when she grows of age. None will dare challenge me for her, and her beauty will become nothing dangerous, only a suitable adornment for my court. No man but I will see her to be inflamed to battle. In such fashion I can thwart the destruction that's fated for her."

Cathba, who might have been Conor's father if the stories were to be believed, shook his head quietly, but did not voice his misgivings. All others were silenced by the force of Conor's personality. Though there were many who believed in their hearts that fate could not be thwarted so easily, still they didn't dare speak out against Conor's plan.

Felim's wife wept when she learned the child was to be taken from her, but better that than to bring destruction and sorrow, and after all, Deirdre would grow up to be the wife of the High King. What greater honor was there than that? So she was parted from her daughter, and the child was taken to a beautiful walled fortress, where she was given into the care of a nurse to feed her, and a tutor to teach her, and Lavarcam, a poet and satirist who no one dared keep out, since a satirist's power to curse was known throughout Ireland. She did not quite know if fate could be thwarted or not, but she took it on herself to see that Deirdre could have somehappiness, anyway.

The fortress was a beautiful place, with green fields and shaded woods, and a stream full of bright, leaping fish. It was surrounded by a high wall, and the wall was surrounded by brambles, and no man was permitted to enter through the small gate but Conor. Little Deirdre grew up within the walls, and throughout all of her childhood, was never permitted to leave them; but the grounds were large, and to a little child, they seemed boundless. She never felt confined as a small girl; nor did she feel lonely, never to know other children, because she didn't know any other way. She had never even seen another child her own age, and she couldn't miss what she'd never known.  Nor did she wonder why she saw no men, ever, except for Conor mac Nessa, the High King.

The truth was, she believed she knew the reason why she was confined this way, why the tales that her tutor and Lavarcam told her had children with fathers in them, why the only man she was allowed to see was Conor. Surely she was the High King’s bastard daughter, kept in seclusion so as not to arouse the ire of Conor’s wife. As she grew, her feelings for Conor were warm, but in no means anything but daughterly. She was never told of Felim mac Daill, so who could her father be if not Conor?

As she grew older, Deirdre began to dream, of hair black as a raven, skin white as snow, lips red as blood. Her dream led her to take a spear, high up in a tower of the fortress, and push it through the wood that had been nailed over the tower window, and through the hole she could see the outside world. She saw boys playing outside the boundaries of her tiny world, boys whose youth and beauty made Conor, the man she thought her father, look like a doddering old man-- and one particular boy with the colors she dreamed of, playing with his brothers in the woods. She told no one of what she saw, not even Lavarcam, whose sardonic wit cut the dreams of kings and young girls alike. But she came often to her window, to watch, and she felt strangely lonely when the beautiful black- haired boy was not out there.

***

Time passed, and Deirdre approached her 14th year. She had already come to a woman's blood, having been fed a diet rich in red meat and eggs and other such things so she would become womanly faster, and a woman's beauty was almost on her. So, she was told, soon she would fulfill her woman's destiny and marry Conor.

She was appalled by this. “How can a daughter marry her own father?” she asked, outraged and shocked.

Lavarcam raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think your relationship to the king is?”

“Well, and what else would it be? Why should he shut me up in a fortress, and give me no leave to see anyone outside, nor any men at all but him, if I am not his daughter?”

Lavarcam laughed. “Ah, you’re too smart for your own good, Deirdre,” she said. “It fits the facts, so it’s no wonder you should think such a thing. But no, that’s not the way of it. When you were born, you were promised to Conor, and he kept you here so no other man would carry you off.” She smiled wryly. “You’re destined to be the High Queen. Are you not honored?”

“No! Conor’s likea father to me even if he’s not my father in truth, and I wouldn’t want to marry him even if he wasn’t! He’s old! And his hair is reddish-gold, and his skin is seamed and tan. But I dreamed of a man who had those three colors," and she pointed out the window, to the snow-covered ground. The cook had earlier butchered a calf for her supper, and tossed the entrails there, and a raven pecked at the blood-covered snow. "Hair black as the raven, lips red as the blood, skin white as the snow. Such a man I could love, and no other."

“Well, and that is a problem, then. Because it’s your destiny to marry Conor whether you love him or no.”

Deirdre found the prospect disgusting. “Why? Why should I be promised to a man when I was born, before I have any chance to make a choice for myself?”

“There was a prophecy made at your birth,” Lavarcam said. “Now I don’t know how much stock to put in Cathba the Druid, but the king and all the men of Ulster think him a prophet, so they hold his words highly. And he said that you were destined to bring destruction and pain, for men will fight each other over your beauty, and queens will be jealous of you and try to kill you, and heroes will die, and strongholds will burn. Conor agreed to lock you away and take you as his wife when you reached womanhood, for none would dare challenge the High King of Ulster.”

“Then I curse my beauty,” Deirdre snapped, “for it’s gained me nothing but sorrow. Those are my only choices? Marry a man I don’t love, who I’ve seen all my life as a father, or bring destruction and pain? Where is my happiness in these choices?”

“It isn’t,” Lavarcam said bluntly. “In this world, the happiness of women seems to matter very little to men. If there were a man so beautiful any woman in the world would stab her sister to possess him, would he be locked away? No, because any would assume that he would choose the woman he’d fain love, and should a woman murder his love, oh, she would be locked away as a murderess or meet the blade of a sword, not become his new wife. But let men fight over a woman, and they behave as fighting cocks, ready to tear each other bloody to take to wife the woman they want, and it matters not what she would choose.”

“That is stupid,” Deirdre said, “and it’s evil, and I want no part of a world that says I belong to a man strong enough to have me, rather than a man I chose out of love!”

“It is stupid, and it is evil, but it is the way of it. You can’t change the world just by wishing it so.”

“I shan’t believe that. My destiny should be under mycontrol and none other.”

Lavarcam’s wry smile grew cutting. “You’ve no desire to be High Queen then? Power over all Ulster, and all the ornaments and beautiful gowns you could wish?”

Deirdre snorted. “What use do I have for any of that?” She was a girl who loved to run and climb trees and pick flowers; what did she need of power? Or wealth? It was youth and manly strength and freedom from responsibility she ached to have in a lover. Become a king's wife? Become a queen, burdened with all the duties that entailed? No, sooner would she meet that mysterious fate full of sorrow than give in to a life she knew would make her miserable. “I want love, and freedom, and a man who sees me as a partner, not a possession. And not to marry a man who’s been like a father to me!” She turned and ran off.

Lavarcam had never been terribly happy with the notion of dooming such a vital, physically active child to the grand but stultifying life of a queen. She thought on the matter all night, and the next day, as Deirdre sulked at breakfast, she looked at Deirdre measuringly. “Did you say you would only love a man with hair as black as a raven, skin as white as snow and lips red as blood?”

“Indeed I did! What of it?” Deirdre asked, challenging.

"Well, good luck," Lavarcam said mildly. "There's a young man like that who isn't far from here-- Naishe, the oldest son of Usna. He and his brothers have been coming through these woods of late, hunting hares and such."

"He's a brave warrior, isn't he?" Deirdre said, wanting to believe it. "He's the kind of man who could fight Conor for me?"

"Fight Conor? Only a fool would do that," Lavarcam said. "No matter how brave and mighty a warrior is, it'd be folly for him to try to fight the High King of Ulster, with warriors like Fergus and Conall and young Cu Chulainn at his side. But the sons of Usna are all well-renowned heroes in their own right, beloved by many. It'd be folly to fight Conor for you; but to spirit you away, so it never came to fighting-- well, that could happen. On the other hand, all Irelandknows Cathba's prophecy. Not a single warrior would dare to come through the walls to find you, though everyone knows of your surpassing beauty, because they all fear the ruin it's said you'll bring if you don't marry Conor."

"I'm sick and tired of hearing about Cathba's prophecy!" Deirdre cried. "With only a few words, he's cursed my life. If it's fated for me to bring ruin, I'll do it whether I'm Conor's wife or not! Did the words of the prophecy truly say it could be avoided if I married Conor?”

“In truth, no, it did not. Marrying you was Conor’s idea.”

“I know, if I follow what's destined for me-- if I marry him-- I'll be miserable all my days. Perhaps that's how I'm supposed to bring evil, as a miserable queen! No." She turned back toward the window. "I won't be happy until I can see Naishe. And if I'm forced to marry Conor, I'll never be happy again."

What Deirdre didn't tell Lavarcam was that, if Naishe couldn't come to her, for fear of the prophecy, she would have to go to him. She spent the winter waiting, watching at her hidden window, for sight of Naishe. When spring came, she explored her home once more, this time with an eye toward leaving it, and found a way she could climb over the wall, leap beyond the brambles, and be free. In this fashion, she took provisions and hid them away, for the day when Naishe would come.

One day as she was hiding away jerky and hard cheese, she heard beautiful music, and crossed over a rock to see where it came from – but stopped, before she could step in a Sidhe circle by accident, for that was what she saw. There was a circle made of rocks and flowers, and in the circle, a woman played a harp, and the sound of the harp was more beautiful than any she’d ever heard in all her life.

Deirdre knew better than to draw close to what was obviously a Sidhe circle – but the music was so beautiful, she stood, transfixed.  She could see that the woman was not human; too tall, too thin, her cheekbones too wide and her eyes much too big. But the music was too beautiful for her to care.

And then the Sidhe woman began to sing. There were very few words in the song, but they struck Deirdre in the heart.

“Call me not fatality,

The sorrow I brought was brought on me,

Only call it destiny…”

Deirdre could no longer stay silent. “Good neighbor,” she called, “what’s the meaning of the song you’re singing so beautifully?”

“Why, you should know, Deirdre of Sorrows,” the Sidhe woman said, smiling too wide and perhaps with too much gum. “’Tis but the song you sang in the womb, before you were born, the song you sang before you’d once opened your eyes, when you saw instead the future that awaited you.”

“No,” Deirdre whispered. “No, I refuse to believe I can’t change my fate! That won’t be my future, I swear it!” She took a golden brooch from around her neck, one that Conor had gifted her. “Good neighbor, I’ll give you this brooch if you can tell me how to avoid such a fate!”

“Mm. A lovely thing, but what you ask is a thing it’s not given to mortals to know,” the woman said.

“Please!” Deirdre went to her knees. “It’s not given to mortals to know aught of their fate, and yet you sing to me of mine, and the world knows the fate I’m destined for. If none had ever known my future, I’d have been raised by my own mother and father, and I’d have been free to love who I’d wish, and perhaps my fate would have come or perhaps it would not. But I’m trapped here, doomed to marry a man I thought my fatherall my life, because mortals know somewhat of my fate. So please, good neighbor, if there’s aught you can tell me, I’ll give you cream, and berries, and a fine pie my cook has made for me, as well as this brooch.”

Now even the Sidhe can be moved by beauty, and perhaps the fae creature felt sorry for her, for she took the brooch, and then said, “Fate canbe changed. But it almost never is. Mortals hear a bit of their fate, and all they do to squirm and seek another path ends up leading them directly to the jaws of their destiny.”

“Then how can I avoid my fate?”

“Heed my words, mortal girl, and perhaps you will not bring sorrows upon Ulster and on yourself. Or perhaps a different sorrow will come upon you, who can say?” The Sidhe tilted her head. “In this world ruled by mortal men, even the men you most love will betray you, not by loving another but by loving their own manhood, their own pride, too well to take your counsel. You will know a thing that is the right thing to do, and the men you love will insist you should not. You will know a thing that is the wrong thing to do, and the men you love will be sure it’s right, and will not bend, for you’re a woman and they fear that taking your counsel will make their manhoods shrivel away.” She laughed, and then her eyes grew even wider as she gazed into Deirdre’s eyes. “If you wish to avoid your fate, you will stand fast. Even against the man you love more than your own life, should you love his life as well.”

And then she was gone, and her harp as well, but the circle remained.

Deirdre breathed deeply. “But there’s a way,” she whispered.

She went back to the home she’d grown up in, to get the cream and berries and pie to leave out for the Sidhe. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but now she had hope.

***

Finally she saw him one spring day, hunting with his brothers in the forest. Excitement bubbled over in her, and she ran down the stairs from her tower window, eager to meet Naishe-- so eager, in fact, she didn't see Lavarcam until she'd all but knocked her over.

"Is that any way to treat these old bones?" Lavarcam asked, though she wasn't, in fact, all that old. "Where would you be off to in such a hurry?"

"I-- uh--"

"And would it have anything to do with the fact that the sons of Usna are hunting in the woods out beyond the wall?"

Deirdre decided to brazen it out. "It would," she asserted. "I'm going out beyond the wall, to meet with Naishe and ask him to take me away from here. And you can't stop me."

Lavarcam was amused. Oh, child, she thought, of course I could stop you. I could grab you and bodily hold you here until they'd gone, or I could summon Conor to tell him you're marriageable, it's time, instead of lying to him about your womanhood as I have-- I could do that, but you'd hate me forever, and be unhappy all your days. It's not fair to you that all your life's decisions were made by men before you were born. You should have the freedom to find your own path.

So she said, "And why would I want to stop you? I'll make you up a packet of provisions and give them to you if he agrees. But he'll fear the prophecy, child-- he may not agree."

"He will," Deirdre said. "He has to." And she turned and kept running, out to the wall to greet Naishe.

***

Naishe was temporarily apart from his brothers, walking through the woods, ostensibly looking for hares. Actually he was here more to enjoy the peace and beauty of the woods than to hunt seriously. If he'd truly been hunting, he never would have risked warning the hare with human voice. But since he wasn't really, he felt free to call out, when he saw a beautiful girl slip past him through the trees, "Now that is a fine young heifer I see!"

She turned, and he realized his mistake. This girl was far too radiantly lovely to be a farmer's daughter, for bantering with. This had to be Conor's property, fated Deirdre. But wasn't she supposed to be shut away? As he was lost in confusion, not knowing whether to apologize, pretend it hadn't happened, or simply go on staring at her beauty, she grinned, and said, "It certainly should be. The heifers grow big where there aren't any bulls."

Her bantering freed his tongue-- which had only been paralyzed a moment; he was an Ulsterman, after all-- and he returned, "You have the greatest bull in the province for your own. The king of Ulster."

"Ah," she said, "but I'd rather choose a fine young bull like you."

Was she offering herself to him? Of course she was! But what should he do about it? He wanted her-- what man could look at her and not want her? But there was Cathba's prophecy, and the wrath of Conor, to fear. "It's not me you're destined for."

"I'd rather make my own destiny. You heroes can all do as you please and marry whom you wish, after all-- why shouldn't I have that right as well?"

"There's the prophecy," Naishe said.

"I'm so sick and tired of the thrice-cursed prophecy!"

"Growing up with it, perhaps, you can be so casual about it. I can't."

"Does that mean you're rejecting me?"

"I must," he said, though part of him screamed in protest, that the world's loveliest woman wanted him, and he was fool enough, or wise enough, to turn her down. "I must."

She dove at him, knocking him to the ground in a very unladylike fashion, and clapped her hands on his ears. "These ears will ring with shame and mockery unless you take me with you!"

He tried to throw off her hands. "Leave me be!"

"Promise me you'll take me with you!"

"All right!" he shouted. "All right, I'm under oath, take away your curse and I'll take you away!"

His brothers, Ardan and Ainle, had heard his outcry, and ran to him. They saw the girl getting up, and almost attacked her, but Naishe put up his hand. "Don't," he said. "This is my wife, Deirdre."

"Deirdre?" Ainle, the youngest, gasped, and Ardan shook his head. "She's Conor's."

"I'm Naishe's now," Deirdre said.

"Evil will come of this," Ardan said dourly.

"I feared the same, but what's done is done," Naishe said. "I gave her my word." And indeed, it seemed a rather distant thing to fear, the wrath of Conor or some vague prophecy, when he had such a beautiful strong woman with him now. She may have tried to force it on him, but that was not how a geas worked. If he hadn’t consented, if he hadn’t wanted to take her, the geas would have dissolved into the air, the same as any other words. Perhaps it had been the right choice to take her with him after all. "It needn't be such a hardship in any case. We're not without friends, friends who'd be willing to lend us aid in our need, and there's many warriors at our father's home who'd travel with us anywhere. We can leave Ulster and go somewhere else. There isn't a king in Erin who'd deny us a welcome."

So it was decided. Deirdre took the provisions from Lavarcam and bid her farewell, and then they hurried to the home of Usna, where they acquired warriors and women to form a large traveling party. Over the next year, they traveled throughout Erin, receiving the welcome of various kings and queens.  But everywhere they went, either the queen would try to have Deirdre killed or banished out of jealousy of her beauty, or the king would try to have Naishe and his brothers killed, to take Deirdre as his own. And always, they had to watch for Conor’s plots against them.

Conor had gone into a rage when he'd heard that Deirdre was gone, for over the years it had been her beauty he'd thought of more than the prophecy. She was his, destined from the beginning to be his-- or at least, that was how he remembered it-- and for Naishe to take what was his from him was an unforgivable crime. So he tried time and time again to lay traps for and destroy the sons of Usna. Finally, this wandering life, always needing to be under somebody's protection, always having to watch for Conor's ambushes, began to bother them all, and so Deirdre, Naishe, his brothers, and their whole party went to Alba across the sea.

By now, Deirdre had learned caution. No longer was she the careless child who had thrown security away for happiness-- she would still do it again, had she the choice to make over, but she would think about it more carefully now. And now that she had happiness-- for her love with Naishe, and her friendship with Ardan and Ainle, made all the hardships they had to bear seem a tiny thing in comparison-- she was far more careful of losing it than she'd been of losing her life when she'd had no happiness.

So she suggested, being cautious, that they go and seek service with the warrior princess Aife. Aife, a woman, would not be jealous of Naishe and seek to claim Deirdre, as so many male kings and princes had done. But Naishe feared that Aife would be jealous of Deirdre herself. Deirdre didn't think such a woman would be jealous. She was a queen, after all. What did she need with beauty? Naishe pointed out that the queen Maeve had tried to poison her, but Deirdre claimed that that was different-- Maeve's reputation had been built on being the most desirable woman in her land, a reputation Deirdre's presence had disturbed. Aife's reputation rested on her skill as a warrior, not her skill in bed.

That was when Naishe said it was beneath his honor to go and work for a woman. “And that is the last word I’ll say about that,” he said.

Deirdre remembered the words of the Sidhe. “The last word you’ll say? You tell me I am your partner, your love, not your possession… but you reject mysuggestion, for your pride won’t let you follow a woman, not a queen and not your love.” She sneered at him. “Was it a mistake I made, when I thought, this man won’t treat me as a possession or a prize? Is all I am a beautiful trophy?”

“Dammit, woman,” Naishe said in frustration, “there’s a way of these things! It’s given to men to rule over women – that’s just nature. A warrior queen who rules with no man beside her, like Aife, or her sister Scathach, is just unnatural!”

“Oh, and a girl being told her fate before she was even born is natural?” Deirdre snapped. “There’s naught natural in any part of our lives! Now I love you, Naishe mac Usna, more than I love my own life I love you, and whenever we go to a king for refuge, it’s your life that’s threatened, for sooner or later they always come to think that if you should die, I’d be free to marry them – as if I’d ever want such a thing! If you insist you will not go with me to Aife’s court, if you are so sworn never to let a woman rule you, then for the sake of your life will I go alone to Queen Aife, and take refuge with her, that whatever king you choose to serve shall not try to have you killed in order to possess me.”

Naishe looked thunderstruck. “You – you’d leave me? You can’t do that! You’re my wife, you can’t run off to another kingdom without my leave!”

“To save your life? I’d do that and more,” Deirdre said. “When I asked the Sidhe how to challenge my fate, she told me that if you’d not take my counsel, it’ll be our doom.”

“I didn’t know that,” Naishe said, humbled. “But I’ve my pride as a man. How can I go to my brothers and tell them we will go and serve under a queen, because my wife tells me so?”

“Please. Come with me to Aife’s land. If it doesn’t work, I’ll do as you wish, and obey you like a dutiful wife. But I will not see you die for foolish pride.”

As expected, Naishe had difficulty persuading his brothers, but he declared that heartbreaking though it would be, he would part ways with his brothers to take his wife to Aife’s court if they insisted. Of course, after being through so much with their brother, they were loath to do such a thing, and so all of them went to the court of the warrior queen Aife, and swore their swords to her service.

One day while Naishe and his brothers were out training with Aife’s men, Deirdre was summoned to meet with the warrior queen. She sent a message back with the one who’d brought the order, saying she was very shy, and would prefer to wait until Naishe could accompany her. But the queen insisted, so there was nothing for it but to go to her.

Aife did not stand on ceremony. She was not the sort of queen who sat on a throne, listening to petitioners; she wore the garb of a warrior, not a queen (nor even most kings), and walked the grounds of her stronghold. “Walk with me, Deirdre,” she said.

“Your Majesty, I don’t mean to give offense, but ‘tis not always the case that kings and queens mean the best for me when they want to meet me without my husband.”

Aife laughed. “And what do you fear I might do?”

“If you’re jealous of this curse of mine, like Queen Maeve of Connacht, you might want me dead.”

“Do you think that if I wanted you dead, you’d be alive right now?” Aife asked, still laughing. “No harm do I mean to you, Deirdre, nor toward your husband either. He’s sworn his sword to me, and what sort of monster would I be, if I repaid him by harming his wife?”

“The sort of monster I’ve encountered far too often in my travels,” Deirdre admitted. “This face of mine drives men to become monsters, aye, and sometimes women as well. I’d slice my face and scar it to destroy the prize they all want to take, but Naishe has beseeched me not to.”

“So all he cares about is preserving your famous beauty, then?”

“No! Naishe wouldn’t love me the less if I were scarred, but he would feel himself a failure. As my husband, he’s pledged to my protection. If I had to scar my face, he would never forgive himself for not being enough to protect me.”

Aife nodded. “A good man you have, then.”

“I do indeed, good enough that he’s never so much as looked at another woman,” Deirdre said carefully.

“Well, and of course not! Who can see the moon and stars when the sun’s ablaze in front of their eyes? I doubt he can see another woman when you’re there for him to see.”

“He sees you, though, Your Majesty.”

“As a queen and a ruler, not as a woman. Which is as how I’d have it, and no other way. I don’t want your Naishe, Deirdre, except as a sworn warrior to serve me. But worried I am for you, for if I were to go with my men, including Naishe, out a-raiding, I fear for you, left behind here all alone, without men to protect you. A clever man who sought to take you back to Conor, or to take you for himself, might wait for such a time.”

“Naishe’s sworn his sword to many kings and queens, and played none of them false, and when he’s gone a-raiding I’ve always been safe enough before.”

“And yet you had to flee the lands of those kings and queens, as they tried to kill your Naishe, or you. You weren’t truly safe there, were you?”

“What are you saying, Queen Aife?”

“I’m saying that you need to learn to protect yourself. The fates willing, you’ll never need to. I hope you’ve always your Naishe by your side when you need protection. But that might not be the way of it.” Aife stopped, and looked directly into Deirdre’s eyes. “Let me train you in some of the warrior’s art, and some of the arts of the covert as well. You should know how to hide, how to flee, and how to fight if you must.”

“I… could I truly be a warrior?” Deirdre looked at her arms, so slender and pale. “Surely I haven’t the strength.”

“Agreed to be sure, but you needn’t be a warrior, Deirdre. I don’t propose to teach you to be a warrior woman like myself, and take you with us when we go into battle. You’re a young woman but still too old to learn the warrior’s way. But if you learn how to slide a dagger into a man’s heart if he tries to take you by force, that can only be of benefit to you and to your Naishe, don’t you think?”

“Why would you do this?”

Aife looked away. “I’d feel guilty taking your Naishe from your side to go a-raiding with me, if I thought you were helpless without him by your side. He can’t be much of a sworn sword if he can’t come to battle with me, though, and I don’t want to take his manhood by leaving him behind to guard his wife. Better that you have some ability to guard yourself.”

“What you say sounds wise to me, so I’ll accept gladly.”

And so Deirdre studied something of the arts of the blade from Aife, and something of the arts of using her body, as a woman, small and light, to turn the strength of a man against him. She learned how to creep through the woods unseen, and how to climb the side of a building.

Naishe was not sure this was the right thing to be doing. “You’re my wife,” he said. “I should be protecting you. You shouldn’t need to learn any arts of war; you should be able to safely spin thread, and grow a garden, and dress a carcass I bring home for our meal. These aren’t skills you should have to learn.”

“I know, Naishe, I know. It pains me that we live in a world where I need to know such things. I’d fain rather rest in your arms, or work to make a home for you. But I can do those things too; it’s only that, as long as men think they can possess me and take me from you, I must know how to defend myself long enough to flee and hide.”

So the lessons continued, but Deirdre began to feel somewhat uncomfortable. Aife’s gaze on her felt like the gaze of a man, like the gazes of men she’d endured all her adult life. They were on a first-name basis by now – Aife did not demand titles from Deirdre – so one day, Deirdre laughed and said, “Aife, if I didn’t know you were a woman, on seeing those eyes of yours and how they look at me, I’d guess you a man.”

Aife did not laugh. “So there’s a thing you haven’t heard of yet, then.”

Her voice was somber. It troubled Deirdre. “What would that be?” she asked, trying to keep her own tone light.

“Why, it’s that some women have enough manliness in their hearts that they can look upon a woman the way a man would, and feel the same desires,” Aife said. “But a woman would know better than to ever think that another woman could be won as a prize, or could be taken by force, if ever she wished the other woman to love her.” She circled Deirdre slowly. “Men don’t respect women. They don’t listen to us unless we fight to force them to do so. If they truly loved us, without needing to possess us, they would be happy for us if we find love in the arms of another. That is how I feel toward you, Deirdre. I do love you, but to see your sorrow would break my heart, so never would I harm your Naishe or interfere in any way with your marriage bond.”

Deirdre shook her head. “I’ve sworn I will never take a lover while another yet lives,” she said. “I swore it of men, but I didn’t know then that a woman could love me that way. I can never be yours, Aife.”

“I know,” Aife said. “And since I cannot have your love, I would have your friendship, and I would see you and your husband as safe as I can manage. I am no threat to you, Deirdre.”

But was that really the truth? With Naishe’s sword sworn to Aife’s service, she would bring him with her to battle, along with her other men. Easy enough it would be for the leader of a raiding party or a group of warriors in battle to arrange for one man to face a greater risk than others, and possibly meet his end. Could Deirdre be honestly certain Aife would protect Naishe as much as her other men?

All the experience of her life thus far said, no.

She went to Naishe, and told him of what Aife had said, and he agreed with her. It was time to move on.

They parted on good terms with Aife, and she promised that if ever they wanted to return to her service, they were welcome to return. Of course they didn’t tell her why they were leaving; it would be the same as calling her a liar to her face, when she’d made Deirdre promises of Naishe’s safety. They said that they had heard rumors that Conor had learned where they’d gone, and though certain they were that Aife could defeat the men of Ulster, the sons of Usna didn’t want to fight men who’d once been their shieldmates and friends.

After leaving Aife, they sought service with the king of Alba, and through their prowess in battle, ended up winning a district the size of Ulster to rule for themselves, with Naishe, the eldest, as overlord. They were careful to keep Deirdre away from the king's eyes, for fear that he should see her and want her for himself, and so for almost six years they lived like this, high in the Alban King's favor. Deirdre was supposed to stay in their home, which they'd built in such a fashion that no one could see inside. But she loved the world far to much to stay shut in a house with no windows, and so she would often go wandering the grounds. She was not afraid of being attacked-- there were enough warriors here loyal to Naishe and his brothers that a single cry from her would bring a dozen or more even on a day when almost all of them were gone. So when she encountered a strange man as she walked the edge of the cliff near the sea, she didn't fear him. "Who are you, and what is your business on my husband's land?" she asked.

The man bowed. "I come from the High King of Alba, Lady. He has been greatly taken with your exceeding beauty, and wishes to ask--"

"If I would share his couch with him," Deirdre interrupted bluntly, having heard much the same thing countless times before. "The answer is no. No, never."

"He was not suggesting that you betray your husband," the man said quickly. "But isn't Lord Naishe away at battle? Should an accident happen--"

"The answer would stillbe no," Deirdre said. "No, and no forever! I left one High King for Naishe, and endured much hardship and was exiled from my homeland for it, too-- why do you think I would be so eager to run to the arms of another High King? Naishe is the only man for me, now and forever, and if he dies, you may be sure my time in this world won't be long."

When Naishe returned, she told him what the king's agent had said, and what she had replied. He sighed deeply. "My love, it seems so unfair to you, to ask you to stay shut in the house on account of your beauty-- but you see now why I ask? The king won't believe you have a will of your own. He'll try to have me killed, so he can have you."

"Well, then it's a little late already for me to start locking myself in, isn't it?" Deirdre said. "Besides, there isn't an Alban born can best my Naishe. It needn't be any hardship."

But the steward returned as an emissary of the King several times, trying to woo Deirdre with gifts. She threw them back in his face, or she thanked him and said they would make wonderful gifts for her husband, depending on what they were, and she always told Naishe everything that happened. The battles the king sent Naishe to fight in grew bloodier, and often he and his brothers had insufficient backup-- not enough to prove the king was trying to kill them but enough to indicate that it was so in Naishe's eyes at least, exactly as they’d feared would happen when they’d left Aife’s service.

Perhaps it might have escalated into some full-scale battle, and they would have had to flee again, but back in Erin Conor was plotting. He wanted Deirdre back, and he wanted the sons of Usna dead. But the three had many friends, and moreover, they weren't stupid-- they wouldn't return, unless they felt fairly certain they'd receive a friendly welcome. He'd heard of their hardship-- now was the perfect time. So he announced he meant to invite them back-- that it was a foul thing that Ulster should be without warriors like the sons of Usna for any woman's sake-- and for that reason he would send a man they trusted, who'd be their safe- conduct, so they needn't fear him, Conor. The three men the sons of Usna were most likely to trust were Conall Cernach, Fergus mac Roy, and young Cu Chulainn. Conor asked each separately, "If the sons of Usna were under your protection, and anyone-- even an Ulsterman-- slew them, what would you do?"

Conall and Cu Chulainn knew the king had no reason to doubt their loyalty, so both said they'd kill any man at all who killed a man under their protection; they didn't feel it necessary to qualify it. Fergus, however, had been born to the position of king of Ulster, and Conor and his mother Niassa had taken it from him by trickery. Fergus was a big-hearted man, and hadn't thought this had been worth killing Ulstermen over-- it had been the choice of the people to leave Conor in place, and Fergus thought it no insult to his honor to bow to their wishes. Because of this, in order to make sure Conor didn't try to have him killed, he had acquired the habit of demonstrating his loyalty to Conor wherever he could; so he said he'd kill anyone but Conor himself, without imagining that Conor had every intention of slaying the sons of Usna. None of the three had truly realized Conor meant to kill the exiles, but it was only Fergus who had bothered to exclude Conor in his speech; and because speech was the only important truth, not thought or intention, Fergus was the logical choice to send.

Fergus headed off to Alba, and found Naishe's home. As he sailed into the port, he called out mightily, so loudly that even in their home, playing checkers, Naishe and Deirdre heard it. Naishe started at the sound. "That sounds like a man of Erin!"

Deirdre had recognized the voice, though whether it was because of her uneasy dreams of late, or due to actual recognition, she couldn't say. But she was afraid. "No, that's an Alban," she said. "I can tell."

The cry came again. "Now I know that's an Irishman," Naishe said, but Deirdre shook her head, trying to convince him. Then the door burst open.

"Brother," Ainle said excitedly, "Fergus mac Roy is here! He's come to ask us to return home!"

"I knew it," Deirdre whispered in a stricken voice. "I knew it."

Naishe turned toward her. "If you knew it, love, why did you say it was an Alban?"

"I dreamed last night," she said. "Three birds flew to us from Emain Macha, Conor's palace, bringing honey in their beaks; but when they had delivered their honey, they drew out sips of our blood. Fergus comes with a message of peace, as sweet as honey, but the message is false, and it will draw your blood."

Naishe frowned. Deirdre occasionally got like this, seeing ominous portents in random things. "That's ridiculous," he said. "Fergus is our good friend. He'd never betray us."

"Not wittingly," Deirdre said darkly.

"At any rate, we can at least go hear him." He got up and headed downstairs with Ainle, Deirdre following a few paces behind.

The reunion between Fergus and the sons of Usna, old friends that they were, was joyful, and Deirdre could see there was no guile in the man. Nor did he look at her with the covetousness she'd come to expect of men, but with nothing except pure admiration for her beauty.

"And what news do you bring us of Erin, and Ulster in particular?" Naishe asked.

Fergus smiled. "Ah, now that is a question. I'm bringing news of the best sort from Ulster-- Conor wants you to come home, to heal up the old feud. I've vowed to keep you under my protection if you'll vow to come with me back to Erin, and accept no hospitality before you accept Conor's own."

"Why should we go there?" Deirdre asked. "Naishe, your holdings here are greater than Conor's there."

"There's a certain King of Alba who might make trouble if we don't go," Naishe said.

"And there's a certain King of Ulster who might make trouble for the same reason if we do," she retorted.

"No harm will come to you from any man, so long as you're under my protection," Fergus said. "Besides, as for size of holdings, isn't it better to have a small plot of land in the place you were born than a kingship elsewhere?"

"That's true," Naishe said. "I have been aching to see Erin again."

Deirdre clutched his hand to her breast. "Don't go," she begged. "Please, let's not go."

"Fair Deirdre, you needn't fear," Fergus said. "My word is my bond. Surely you can tell I'd never let harm come to you, nor your husband, nor his brothers, nor all the men with you, though all of Irelandshould betray us."

"I know that, even if Deirdre doesn't," Naishe said. "We'll go with you, and we'll take no food, nor drink, from the time we reach the shores of Erin until we reach Conor's roof."

They sailed away that night, and in the morning, Deirdre sang a lament as a farewell to Alba, to all the lands there that were dear to her, while the sons of Usna talked with Fergus and his sons about the sort of things men discussed.

A few days later, they reached Borrach's stronghold. Borrach greeted them all, and offered them hospitality, but Naishe told him they were pledged to take no hospitality in Erin until they reached Conor. Borrach then told Fergus, as they were all about to leave, "I've prepared a feast for you, by the way. Will you stay and partake of it?"

Fergus turned white with fury, and he said, "You know perfectly well I have no choice. It's a foul thing you should ask me this now, when you know I have to see these people safely to Emain. Are you going to tear me between two oaths?"

"What is this?" Deidre asked, fearful.

Fergus didn't look at her. "I took an oath when I was young, that I'd never refuse a feast offered me," he said. "If I break my oath, I'll bring a curse down on my own head."

"And you won't if you break your oath to us, that you'd be our safe-conduct?" Naishe asked angrily. "Is a feast worth more than our lives?"

"It won't come to that," Fergus said.

"Won't it?" Borrach said. "I can't bear the idea that you won't accept my hospitality, Fergus. I lay you under geas-- if you don't eat with me, may a curse be on you, and all your descendants."

"If this feast is so important to you, maybe it's a trick by Conor to separate us from our safe-conduct," Naishe said angrily. Borrach didn't look at him, since that was exactly what it was.

"I'll tell you what," Fergus said. "I myself can't break my oath, but my sons, Buinn and Ilann, aren't under any such prohibition. Let them go with you as your safe-conduct until I can rejoin you."

Deirdre knew better. She had thought this entire journey was a bad idea, and she remembered the Sidhe telling her that the only way to fight her fate was to follow the path she knew was right. They could not leave this place without Fergus – but Fergus could not violate his geas, for the sake of his honor, nor could Naishe violate his. He was bound to take no hospitality, to eat and drink nothing, until they reached Emain Macha.

So she fluttered her eyes and pretended to swoon. “Ohh…”

“Deirdre!” Naishe caught her before she fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I wasn’t sure,” she whispered. “If I had known for certain, I would have told you before we set on this journey. But… my courses have been late, this month.”

“You’re pregnant?” Fergus asked, dismayed. “We would have done things very differently if we’d known!”

“I only need some time to rest,” Deirdre said, feigning weakness. “Naishe, you swore not to take hospitality, but you didn’t swear not to tend your pregnant wife until she was strong enough to ride again, did you?”

“No, indeed I swore no such thing,” Naishe said. “Ardan, Ainle, since you did not swear the oath I swore, you should go with Fergus and take refreshment. I’ll remain with Deirdre.”

Borrach looked angry, but he could hardly refuse Ardan and Ainle his hospitality when he’d offered it to Fergus. “If that’s to be the way of it, so be it. Let all of you enjoy my hospitality!”

Naishe and Deirdre remained outside, under the shade of a tree, partaking in nothing of Borrach’s hospitality. “Deirdre,” he whispered. “Tell me true, do you really carry our child?”

Deirdre shook her head. “Sorry I am for the deception,” she murmured, “but this is plainly a trick to separate you from Fergus. Conor dare not kill Fergus, no matter how enraged he is with you; he rules in Fergus’ place, and all the men of Ulster know it. Should he give such an order, even his most loyal men would turn on him. But Fergus’ sons have no such protection. If Conor’s of a mind to kill you and your brothers, Fergus’ sons won’t be enough to stop him.”

“We’ve always defended ourselves,” Naishe growled. “I don’t need Ilann and Buinn; I only need my brothers and my sword and shield.”

“Conor will try to turn all Ulster against you, if he can,” Deirdre said. “This proves the depths of his dishonor.”

Naishe shook his head. “This proves nothing,” he said. “A terrible coincidence, perhaps. I’m still inclined to hear Conor out; if he wants to make peace and let us return to Ulster, why, I’d give up a lot for that.”

“Would you give up your life? Because it may come to that, and if you should die, Conor will take me for himself, like an object to be owned,” Deirdre snapped. “But if you are so certain Conor means you no harm, then at the very least, wait here until Fergus falls asleep from the wine and the feasting, and you and Ardan and Ainle should carry him out here and put him on his horse. He’ll be awake again ere we reach Emain Macha.”

Naishe was plainly angry. “Did you need to make me think you were with child? You gave me hopes and tore them from me within the same handful of moments.”

Deirdre winced. It was a sorrow both of them were too familiar with, for all the babes that had quickened in her womb had died before drawing their first breath. “I needed something you’d not question and mock for womanish cowardice. I mean to keep us both alive and Conor from touching me, and the Sidhe told me I must obey my feelings if I want to free us from the foretold destiny.”

“See it from my side, love,” Naishe said. “Never did I wantto leave Ulster, or all my companions, and gladly I’d follow Conor into battle again if he’ll forgive me, and leave you be. I never wanted any of this.”

“Are you saying you never wanted me?” Deirdre hissed.

“That’d be a lie and I won’t be so forsworn; of course I wanted you. In the beginning, ‘twas only your beauty, and the heady brew of knowing you, the loveliest maiden in all Eire, had chosen me. But as we traveled together, my respect and my love for you grew, so never say I do not love you. But understand – you made the choice that began this, not me. I’d never have taken you from Conor if you hadn’t wanted me to so badly.”

Deirdre realized then that as much as he loved her, Naishe regretted his choice to take her from her seclusion, and from Conor. While all of her happiest memories had been made back in Alba, Naishe was older than she and had lived more life than she had, here in Ulster. She had never known anyone but Lavarcam, Conor, and her nurses, tutors and servants; Naishe had parents here, and childhood friends, and sword-brothers he’d have never chosen to leave behind if Conor had not forced him to.

He would never believe Conor was false until the proof was in front of him, for he wanted to believe it so badly, and when that proof came, it would be too late.

“When Fergus is with us once more, let us go to Cu Chulainn's home in Dun Delgan, and ask him to accompany us as well. He was your friend, and Conor would never dare stand against him.”

“If I did such a thing, it would be the same as spitting on Fergus’ offer to be our surety. You don’t understand a man’s honor, Deirdre. Now that Fergus has sworn this thing, we cannot appear to reject him or consider him unequal to the task.”

“You say this even after he was willing to abandon us to have a feast?”

Naishe scowled. “It isn’t as if I’m happy with him, but he did offer us his sons as surety, and whether you think they’d have been enough for the task or no, surely he thinks them equal to himself in this matter. And he is, indeed, under a geas to never refuse a feast offered to him.”

“What a foolish thing to swear,” Deirdre said. “You men bind yourselves too easily. You swore you wouldn’t take food nor drink nor hospitality until we reached Conor, and now we sit here waiting while Fergus feasts and your brothers watch over him, and you cannot even go inside, nor satisfy your thirst at a stream.”

“And thus says the woman who bound me with a geas to take her or suffer a curse!”

“I was a child then, and you know well a geas only works if accepted. If you hadn’t wanted me, there’d have been no effect. And in any wise, I know better now.” She clasped his hands in hers. “Can’t you remember that we are under a prophecy of doom, and the dark fate that was promised to me lurks behind everything that happens? You cannot afford to be too trusting.”

Naishe sighed. “We’ve fought men sent by Conor to kill us, and some of them were Ulstermen, aye, and some of renown. We’ve been separated from Ulster for more than a decade. Are you sure that the prophecy hasn’t alreadybeen fulfilled?”

Deirdre thought of the Sidhe’s song. Call me not fatality, the sorrow I brought was brought on me. Only call it destiny…“No,” she said softly. “We’ve been happy together. I was prophesied to bring about great sorrow, and the greatest portion of that sorrow to fall on my own head. That hasn’t happened yet.”

“You’ve lost so many babes ere their birth,” Naishe said, “and wept for each one. Couldn’t that be your sorrow?”

“Nothing you or I have done caused that,” Deirdre said, “nor did my beauty lead to the death of our babes in my womb. There is something else, and I fear it must be your death, for I cannot think of what else would bring me the greatest sorrow imaginable. Naishe, if I must, I’ll leave you behind and run to Alba, because the sorrow of parting from you would be like a lake full of grief, but your death would leave me drowning in the ocean. If I’m no longer with you, then Conor has no need to hate you, and I won’t bring about your death.”

“No. Never.” He embraced her. “You never need leave me to save me, Deirdre. I’m here to protect you. Whatever we do, we’ll do together.”

***

In the dark of the night, long after moonset, Ardan came out to meet with Naishe and Deirdre. “Borrach is snoring in his cups,” he said, “and Ainle offered to help Fergus to a bed. Can you ready the horses, and help us when we have Fergus out here?”

“That I can,” Naishe said. “I’m eager to return to the road; it’s a thirsty oath I’ve sworn, and I admit I regret it now.”

Ardan went back to help Ainle with Fergus, and Naishe and Deirdre got the horses from the stable and made them ready. “What if we went to Rathlin?” Deirdre offered. “It’s off the coast of Eire, and you promised not to take food nor drink nor hospitality from the time you set foot on Eire to the time you reach Conor’s lands. You could eat, and replenish yourself, and then we’d continue on to Emain Macha and you’d not be tormented by hunger or thirst.”

Naishe shook his head. “That’s… excessively careful of the words I used, but in no way satisfies the spirit of what I meant. I can endure.”

Fergus’ sons, Ilann the Fair and Buinn the Ruthless Red, had foregone all but the least taste of the wine, suspecting treachery. Or at the very least, Buinn seemed to have suspected treachery, and Ilann followed his lead. So they, too, were wide awake and capable of helping Ardan and Ainle with their father. When Ardan, Ainle and Fergus’s sons returned with Fergus, they laid him on the back of his horse, and tied him there with leather straps that he mightn’t fall, and then they rode from Borrach’s lands, carefully, that the horses might not be lamed by losing their footing in the dark.

***

It was late, and Deirdre could not keep her eyes open, despite her fear. On Naishe’s horse, with him, she slumbered against the withers of the horse as Naishe rode. But her sleep was fitful and full of fear, and she cried out as she awoke.

“Deirdre! Love, what’s wrong?” Naishe asked.

“I dreamed,” she said hoarsely, but did not want to tell Naishe of her dream – not where the others could hear. She had seen the sons of Usna laid on the ground headless, and Ilann the Fair with them too, but Buinn the Ruthless Red had had a head and had been standing next to Conor. Then she’d seen blood in a cloud over all their heads, and blood staining the fields of Conor's other court, the House of the Red Branch. Buinn was an angry man, quick to take offense, and in no way did she want to risk creating a prophecy that fulfilled itself by claiming he would turn traitor, driving him to anger and, perhaps, to the treachery she’d seen.  She sat up. "We mustn't go to the House of the Red Branch. If Conor truly means us well, we will eat with him in his own court at Emain Macha. But if he means us treachery, he will send us to the House of the Red Branch."

"Love, Conor often puts up guests at the House of the Red Branch. It wouldn't mean anything."

"It would mean our death!"

"You're just distraught from dreaming. Come on. We have a long way to go yet."

When Fergus awakened, he, too, dismissed her fears. “I cannot know that Borrach meant to separate us for Conor’s sake,” he said. “Conor swore to me that he meant no harm to the sons of Usna, and I do not think he would look me in the eye and lie. Particularly since I swore to him that if any man did any of you harm, I would kill that man!”

“Any man?” Deirdre asked. “Including Conor himself?”

Fergus reddened. “Well, no,” he said. “You know, I was king once. I have to be careful with Conor to make sure he does not consider me a threat.”

Naishe asked, “And did he ask of any other men whether they would provide such surety?”

“He asked Conall Cernach and Cu Chulainn as well if they would offer surety, and both declared they, too, would kill any man who would do harm to the sons of Usna.”

“Did they also exclude Conor, as you did?” Deirdre asked.

“Well, no; the king will never be uncertain of their loyalties, so they didn’t need to.”

“And he picked you. The one who’d sworn not to kill him if he proves treacherous.”

Naishe closes his eyes in grief. “I didn’t want to think it. I wanted to rejoin the men of Ulster and serve Conor as my king. But it seems as if he is planning treachery. Borrach’s feast might have been a coincidence, but add that to the fact that he chose the one man who wouldn’t kill him for his treachery should he prove false, and I think perhaps Deirdre is right.”

“It can’t be. He swore to me that he would do you no harm,” Fergus said. “Surely he knows that if he were to break his word to me, I would raise arms against Emain Macha and take back the kingship that Conor took from me. I let Conor become king because he was a good one, and he hasbeen a good one. I cannot believe he would be so dishonorable.” He looked at Deirdre. “My lady, they said when the prophecy was made that you should die, for when you became a woman, your beauty would drive men to madness. I can see why. But Conor is a good man! He could not be so false as to lie to me, nor to break the laws of hospitality by harming his guests.”

“It’s not madness that men are driven to by my beauty, but possessiveness, like dragons after gold,” Deirdre shot back. “I’ve done nothing but to seek to live the life I chose with the man I love. If everyone would just leave me alone, and stop believing they could have me as a prize, why, then my beauty would harm none. But they keep trying to kill my Naishe, and in defense he must then kill them. So much blood and pain and grief, but all of it, allof it, comes from the choices men make.” She clenched her fists. “If I’d done as Conor wished and been his wife, his other wives would have tried to kill me, and other kings would have made war on Conor to try to steal me away. None of my choices can change the violence that men do, or their belief that a woman is a thing who can be stolen away, like a prize cow in a cattle raid.”

“I want to give Conor a chance to prove himself true,” Naishe said. “If he proves himself a liar, I cannot believe the men of Ulster, my comrades in battle of old, would stand by and allow him to kill me or my brothers.” He looked to Ardan and Ainle. “What say you, brothers?”

“I, too, long to live in Ulster again,” Ainle said. “In all our wanderings I’ve supported you, brother, but never have I taken a woman to wife, for the women of my dreams are the women of these hills and valleys, the women of the green lands of Eire. I would like to settle back into my home again, and make a family of my own.”

Ardan said, “Naishe and Ainle, I will follow you to the ends of the Earth if I must. Tell me we must return to Alba? I’ll ride my horse back to the coast till he froths from sweat, and jump on the first boat I see. Tell me we return to Ulster, and perhaps, to treachery from Conor? I’ll follow you, and my sword is yours, always.”

“I don’t want to go,” Deirdre said, her hands twisting. “I’ll never be Conor’s possession. And what if he kills you, Naishe? What if he kills your brothers? What becomes of me then? I’d have no choice but to fall on a dagger, or else Conor will claim me for his, and that I never wish to endure.”

“Love, see reason,” Naishe cajoled. “There’s no real evidence of Conor’s perfidy yet – an inconvenient feast, the choice of which Ulsterman hero to send as our surety, and a dream? Are these really portents to throw away our futures and our chance to return home?”

“If I’m right, it’s your future you’d be throwing away by going to Conor,” Deirdre snapped.

Buinn growled, “Why are we putting such weight on the wishes of a woman? Her fears have given her bad dreams, and we turn tail and run like cowards? I’d fain be a man, and follow the men of this party, not the complaints of a woman.”

“Crude though he is, my brother has a point,” Ilann said, far more kindly in tone than Buinn. “Deirdre, you haven’t eaten any more than Naishe has, and your sleep was restless, and for all we know perhaps you arewith child. Of course there are so many reasons why your dreams would be fearful, but that doesn’t make them truth.”

Deirdre was certain that they were riding into their doom, but if even Naishe would not listen to her, what could she do? She was riding on Naishe’s horse, not even on one of her own, so she didn’t even have the option of leaving – and she would not, not when her Naishe was in danger. Aife had taught her some things, and the Sidhe had given her a warning and a guide, and perhaps that would come to be enough to avoid her fate.

***

When they reached Emain Macha, Deirdre was on high alert for treachery. So when Conor’s servant tried to show them to the House of the Red Branch, where they would not even meet Conor until tomorrow, she reined in her horse. “No. It’s exactly as I feared,” she said. “He sends us to the House of the Red Branch, not to his main court, because he intends to kill my Naishe and claim me for his own.”

Fergus said, “I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding,” but then, to the servant, he said, “This is not what Conor promised me! He told me to bring the sons of Usna straightaway to his court, to enjoy his hospitality and be feasted. Why will he not feast with us tonight? Is it not a joyous occasion to see our old comrades once again, and feast with them?”

The servant bowed. “Fergus mac Roy, Conor sends his true regrets,” he says. “It’s a painful thing, not to be able to welcome the sons of Usna in his own person, or you, his dear old friend, but you know as well as anyone how the duties of a king sometimes can tear a man away from spending his time as he wishes. He says to consider this his roof and his hospitality, so all of you may freely eat and drink as you please, and you will be given the best rooms we have.”

“No.” Deirdre shook her head. “I’ll go no further into this trap. If Conor was an honorable man, he’d have come in person to feast with us and toast the return of the sons of Usna. I’ll hear from his lips that my Naishe and his brothers are safe, and that he will not interfere in my marriage or try to take me from Naishe, and I’ll hear it tonight, before I let my horse take one step further. Else I’ll turn around and ride east now.”

Naishe sighed. “Fain would I partake of Conor’s hospitality, for I’ve sworn no food or drink should pass my lips until I’ve reached his court, but though I grow weak with hunger and thirst, I will ride with my wife. If we have no assurances from Conor’s own lips, we have no way to know for certain his intentions.”

“See reason, woman!” Buinn snapped. “You see portents of doom where there is nothing! This is womanly nonsense and I’d thought the sons of Usna too manly to be taken in.”

“Buinn, Deirdre and the sons of Usna are our guests, who we’ve been charged to protect,” Fergus said. “Hold your tongue when such rudeness comes to your mind.” He turned to the servant. “Send word to Conor that if we do not have his assurance that he will come feast with us, tonight, we must turn down his hospitality. If it must be late in the evening, then so it shall be, but we won’t abide the dishonor of his refusal to even meet with us.”

The servant bowed again. “I’ll send word.” He retreated.

“Now what? We sit upon our horses and do nothing? Perhaps we dress our hair and perfume ourselves like women?” Buinn spat.

Ilann said, “Buinn, be calm. If you like, you can go on ahead of us and be feasted.”

“And how would that look, me abandoning my brother and father to go to a feast on my own while they stand around outside with their horses?”

Ainle said, “If you had a wife like my brother’s Deirdre, you’d take heed of her as well, so why not shut your mouth? Either do as your brother suggested and leave us, or don’t, and leave off your complaining.”

After a time, Deirdre’s old nurse Lavarcam, the satirist, appeared. She was old, and she panted with exhaustion as if she’d been running, her face ruddy with exertion, but her eyes were bright and her tongue was still sharp. “Deirdre! Dearest girl, what are you thinking, coming to Conor’s territory?”

"Lavarcam!" Deirdre said excitedly-- it'd been seven years since she'd seen the older woman. She embraced her old guardian eagerly.

“Why are you here?” Lavarcam demanded again. “Deirdre, child, you've still your beauty. I'd hoped so it would be otherwise... Don’t you know what Conor has planned for you?”

Fergus said, “I have always found Conor to be an honorable man… but if he should dishonor himself by lying to me, and the sons of Usna, I’ll raise all Ulster against him. I was the king myself. I gave it to Conor becausehe was honorable and fair, but if he is not those things any longer, I’ll take it back.”

“Conor has never stopped stewing about his loss of Deirdre,” Lavarcam said. “He blames Naishe and his brothers. I’ve told him a thousand times, ‘twas Deirdre’s own doing, but he spent so many years believing he’d marry the most beautiful woman in the world, he thinks it’s his due.” She sighed. “If only the years had taken your beauty from you! He’s told me that if your beauty is lost, he’d happily take the sons of Usna back as fellow Ulstermen and comrades, but if you are still beautiful…” Lavarcam shook her head. “Well, perhaps if you hide in your rooms, and I lie to him.”

“No,” Deirdre said. “I’ll speak to him myself. Do you remember, Lavarcam, how you told me that he was the king, and a good man who’d take care of me one day, and how no other man was ever allowed to see me?”

“Of course I do. I tried my best to prepare you for the fate that was decided before you were born…”

“Lavarcam, I thought he was my father. I thought I was a bastard child, and he was hiding me away until I was full grown, and then he’d summon me to his side as a daughter.” Tears pricked her eyes. “You never told me he meant to marry me until I told you of the kind of man I could love. If he comes to us, I will stand before him, and I’ll tell him he was a father to me. Foul indeed it would be for a man to marry his own daughter, but if all he wants is to possess the woman who’s called the most beautiful… he can call me his daughter, if he likes, and I’ll acknowledge him as a father, and all the world will know that Conor the High King of Ulster has for a daughter the most beautiful woman in the world.” She spoke the epithet sarcastically. “Or, he can refuse to come, and we will know him for forsworn, and we will leave.”

“I never knew that,” Naishe said. “I thought you’d known all along that you were intended to be Conor’s wife. I never knew you thought him your father.”

“Even if I’d been told from earliest childhood, I’d never have loved him,” Deirdre said. “My destiny, my only true destiny, was to love you, Naishe mac Usna. But I did love Conor… as a daughter loves a distant father, who comes from time to time and gives her gifts, but surely that’s a kind of love. I never meant to hurt him. And though I’ve grown to hate him for all the times he’s tried to take you from me… I would give up that hate, I would embrace him as a father, if he would only accept that role and understand that he will never be my lover.”

“I’m sure he must,” Fergus said. “Why, if he did that, then Naishe mac Usna would be his son-in-law, and so would Ainle and Ardan! That would heal the rift in Ulster for sure.”

The servant returned. “Conor sent word. He will be here tonight, and feast with you. In the meantime, you are to enjoy his hospitality. Rooms have been prepared for you, and if it’s food or drink you’re wanting after your hard ride, you’ll have them.” He looked at Fergus. “In particular, Fergus mac Roy, you and your sons are invited to the feast.”

“Well, that’s done it,” Fergus said tiredly. “With the geis that binds me, I can’t leave now that I’ve been invited to a feast.”

As the servant guided them to the House of the Red Branch, Deirdre hung back to speak with Lavarcam. “I need to ask for a favor,” she said.

“Anything, dear heart.”

“Send word to Cu Chulainn and Conall Cernach. Tell them that the sons of Usna have returned to Ulster, and Conor is feasting them tonight; tell them they are invited to come see their old comrades once more.”

Lavarcam nodded. “Wise. I’ll do it right away.”

***

In their rooms, they were given light fare, and ale to drink, and servants drew baths for them to wash away the dust of travel. They were all exhausted, but it would be foolish to sleep here in might very well be the enemy's stronghold. Deirdre asked for cool water to drink; even watered down, ale makes people sleepy. She convinced Naishe, Ainle and Ardan to take naps, in turns, one of them on watch alongside Deirdre each time. To pass the time and stay awake, Deirdre played checkers with the brother on watch.

Night fell, and it grew later, with no sign of Conor. Deirdre had not slept in two days; she was desperate for sleep, but far too restless with anxiety to be able to. Lavarcam came again, and sat by her side, and promised to watch over her and let her sleep. When Conor finally did come, the sons of Usna went out to meet him, and to reunite with their friends and comrades, but Lavarcam barred the door from the inside, and Deirdre slept.

She woke in a panic. “Lavarcam! Where is Naishe? Where are Ardan and Ainle?”

“They’ve gone to the feast. We thought it best to let you sleep… and not to rub Conor’s nose in your beauty. Not yet.”

“Have Cu Chulainn and Conall Cernach come yet?”

“They have, and they’re at the feast with your husband and his brothers now.”

Deirdre sighed. Conor would not dare to move against Naishe and his brothers with those two present. “Lavarcam, there’s something I must do, before I confront Conor.”

“What is that?”

“I’ll need your help,” she said. “Years ago, when I left the house to wander in the woods, before I met Naishe, I met a Sidhe, who sang a song to me, and they said it was the song I sang in the womb, when I saw my fate before I was born. The song went like this:

Call me not fatality
The sorrow I brought was brought on me
Only call it destiny…

She told me the only way to evade that fate was to stand my ground, to do as I believed was necessary even should the men in my life say no. But I haven’t followed that. Naishe wanted so much to believe he could come home, I let myself believe Conor might let me go, but he won’t, will he?”

“Dear heart, I don’t think he will,” Lavarcam said sadly.

“And here I am trapped, and my Naishe and his brothers in deadly danger. I need a way to make him understand why I left, why Naishe is the only man for me, and he, Conor, could never be. And if he will not understand, why then I want his men to understand, and feel sympathy for me. If I sang a song in the womb mourning my fate, now I want to sing a song that changes my fate, and lets me live my life as I wish.”

“That’s a tall order for one song,” Lavarcam said.

“You were famous as a poet and satirist,” Deirdre said. “If anyone could do it, it would be you. Will you help me?”

“For you, child of my heart, anything.”

***

The festivities were still going on when Deirdre descended the stairs, and everyone stopped speaking, staring at her.

Conor had seen Deirdre in her beauty as a young girl just come to womanhood. No one else, aside of course from Fergus, his sons, and the sons of Usna, had seen her since she was a newborn baby. Now that she had grown into the full beauty of a woman in her prime, they were dumbstruck.

“Ah, Deirdre,” Conor said. “Cathba never lied. Truly your beauty is one of the wonders of the world.”

Deirdre ignored him. “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting most of you, but my husband Naishe mac Usna has spoken so often and so highly of all of you, I feel as if you are already my friends,” she said.

“We – we’d be honored to call you friend, my lady,” Conall Cernach, uncharacteristically somewhat tongue-tied, said.

“A lucky man, is Naishe,” Conor said, a dark undertone to his voice. “Deirdre’s beauty is so great, any man would understand how it could drive a man to murder, to possess her.”

“And yet, no one can possess me, for I possess myself,” Deirdre said. “I choose to share my life with Naishe; I demanded he take me from the place I grew up in, for I knew the moment I saw him that I would never love another man.”

“Never?” Conor’s face was a stormcloud. “Many a woman has said she would never grow to love the man her parents gave her to in marriage, only to change her mind in time, as love grows. No one can say ‘never’ about love.”

“I can,” Deirdre said. “And what’s more, a woman who falls in love with her father, even an adopted one, would be called a foul creature by anyone, and a man who falls in love with his daughter, no less.”

“True enough, but why would that matter?” Now Conor’s stormy expression was replaced with puzzlement. “Felim mac Daill is three years dead.”

Deirdre had never even known the name of her birth father, and now he was dead and she’d never so much as laid eyes on him. A burst of rage at Conor filled her, for taking her away from her birth parents, but she kept it pushed down. “You’ve plotted for years to try to capture me, to steal me away from my Naishe or to kill him, so you can force me to marry you. Why?”

“Any man would do the same, in the face of your beauty.”

“Not true. Fergus mac Roy and his sons have done me no harm. Neither Aidan nor Ainle ever challenged their brother for my hand. I’ve met Conall Cernacht and Cu Chulainn, and neither of them ever tried to fight my Naishe. Why were you willing to drive the sons of Usna out of Ulster and try repeatedly to kill them, great warriors who used to fight at your side, over me?”

“Because you were promised to me!” Conor snapped. “I had you raised in secrecy so no other man could take you! From the moment you were born, you were intended to be my wife.”

“Had me raised in secrecy, yes,” Deirdre said, and began to sing.

“I was raised in a hidden home

No man but Conor my home did grace

A child doesn't look to a man for a mate

I saw a father in Conor's face

How many fathers with daughters you know

Would seek to take their girls to wife?

How many kings known as rulers fair

Would plunge their lands into so much strife?”

The men of Ulster were mesmerized by her beautiful voice. Even Lavarcam, who’d heard Deirdre sing as a child, could not tear her attention away, and she’d helped to write the song.

“They say that I screamed just before I was birthed

For I saw all for my sake the blood to be shed

But perhaps I screamed for the fate I saw

That a man I saw as father would try to force me to bed

How many fathers with daughters d'you know

Would seek to take their daughters as wives?

How many kings with loyal men

To possess a woman, would end their lives?”

Now several eyes fell on Conor, and there was judgement in them. Her song was swaying their opinions. It was working.

“Is it a crime, to try to live my own life?

To pick my own man, and to him be a wife?

Is it a crime, to say I am human, no thing

Not a cow or a pig to be owned

Not even by a king?

How many good men would hold a babe

Would cradle in arms her soft bald little head

And think to themselves, I cannot wait

Till she's old enough to take to my bed?”

At that, many of the men laughed, but it was the laughter of a jest breaking an uncomfortable tension. Of course, it was unimaginable that a good man would think such a thing of a newborn babe.

“There's a man that I love, and to him I belong,

No other will e'er I take to my bed.

Conor, I'd call father. Or liar, betrayer,

Should he choose his own loyal men's blood to shed,

For a woman who ne'er would willing him wed.”

She could see the fury in Conor’s face… but she could see the men all around him. They were looking to him, not as a leader, but to see if he would do the right thing.

He glared at her. “You’re not my daughter and I never raised you to be. I visited on occasion and brought you presents so you’d think well of me, not so you’d think yourself a princess!”

“What’s more likely? That a king would shut away his bastard daughter so none would know how he shamed his wife, or that he’d shut away a little girl so that he could take her as a bedmate when she was of age? You never told me I was to marry you, as I grew up, nor did anyone else until I spoke to Lavarcam of who I wished to love. I drew my own conclusions.” She walked to him. “I loved you, then. I dreamed of the day you’d take me back to your home. But as your daughter, not your wife. I’ve no designs on your throne, no interest in being a queen, but if you’d like me to honor you as a father, I’d be happy to do that. If you want no connection to me at all, I can also do that. But I will not marry the man I thought of as father, not now, not ever, and in fact…” She looked around the room. “I swear a solemn vow in front of all this company. I will never marry any man but Naishe mac Usna, my true love and my husband now and forever. Should he die before me, I’ll live out my days as a widow and never again touch a man. He is the man I’ve given myself to, and I’ll have nothing of myself to give to any other man if he dies before me. If I should ever end up in another man’s bed, I’ll shrivel and die, and leave nothing but a husk behind.”

“You’re a woman,” Conor said, and all his men watched his talk with Deirdre, and were silent, listening with all their being. “Women don’t have honor, not like men do. You can’t swear such a vow and have it be binding.”

“Women have honor, but men don’t respect it,” Deirdre shot back. “Else how could a man pledge to marry a newborn girl? Men don’t acknowledge that women have the right to make their own choices about their lives.”

“That’s the way of it,” Conor said. “That’s how it’s always been. Women aren’t here to make choices, you’re here to be chosen.”

“And why would I have the power to choose, then, if I was never intended to use it? How could I fall in love if I am a thing, destined only to be owned by a man?” She reached one of the feasting tables. “You think that killing my Naishe and his brothers will gain me for your bed—” and on so saying, she grabbed a table knife –  “but it will gain you nothing but to tear Ulster apart. To no end. Because I’ll die on this blade before I become your wife. Or any other man’s save Naishe mac Usna, the man I’ve sworn myself to.”

Fergus stepped in. “Conor, there’s no need for blood to be shed. You promised me you meant no harm to the sons of Usna, and I respect you too much to think you wish to be forsworn. So let the sons of Usna make recompense to you. All that you spent to raise Deirdre, let them pay that back as a bride price, and be done with it. That would be fair.”

“Fair?” Conor laughed. “What price could compare to Deirdre and her beauty?”

Conall Cernacht spoke then. “What does it matter? You swore not to harm the sons of Usna, in front of me, and Fergus mac Roy, and Cu Chulainn the hound of Ulster. You can have Ulster united, the sons of Usna returned as warriors for Ulster, and payment for what you've spent, and be known once again as a good and fair king. Or you can tear Ulster apart for a woman.”

Cu Chulainn spoke, with his high, boyish voice. “I'll stand by the sons of Usna. If any man should do them harm, that man is my enemy.”

And then Fergus spoke again. “If you are a king forsworn, it'll bring nothing but ill luck to Ulster. If you do thus, I will fight you to take back my throne, for the sake of the land. You were a good and fair king, better than me, when you were young, and I gave you my throne and served you willingly. No woman is worth ending a legacy like that.”

Conor growled, “I’ve already sworn I would not harm the sons of Usna, and I’m bound by that geis. To that I’ll add, any Ulsterman who harms Naishe mac Usna shall be cast out. I promised him and his brothers I’d take them back as my sworn men, and I’ll keep to that promise.”

Naishe came to stand beside Deirdre, his arm around her, looking directly into Conor’s eyes. “For long years, that’s been what I most wanted. To be able to return to Ulster, to fight by my countrymen’s side, and feast with them and drink with them and lose my coin to them at cards—” At that, several men laughed. “—while still having my wife by my side. That’s what I was told you were offering, and if you mean it truly, I accept, and once again swear to fight for you, my king.”

“My brother speaks for me as well,” Ainle said.

“And me,” said Arden.

Conor smiled, but Deirdre could see that it was forced. “Well then, let it be so, and Ulster be united once again.”

***

Over the next few days, the brothers returned to the house of their father Usna, fallen into disrepair these long years with no sons to care for the house or the land.

“Our home, Deirdre,” Naishe said. “We could settle here. Have children. Ardan and Ainle could take wives of their own, if they’re not forced to run about the world to stand at my side.” The men were working to rebuild parts of the house that had weakened or broken from neglect, while Deirdre tried to scrub away a decade or more’s dust away from the floor.

“I rode out to the edge of our lands, and went all around,” Ainle said. “Overgrown it is, but after so long fallow, it should be fine and fruitful next season. It’ll take a month or two to mow it all down, and longer to pull or cut down inconvenient trees, but we could have a farm by next spring, ready to sow.”

“A farm it is you want, then?” Ardan teased. “It’s not enough to be a fighting man with a king you can gladly serve again?”

“I’ve done far more than enough fighting,” Ainle said. “My body may still be a young man’s, but my heart’s an old man’s now, and I’m weary. I’ll come if I’m called, but I want to have a farm to call ours.”

“We can hire men to work the fields if we’re called to battle during sowing season,” Naishe said. “We can have whatever we want, now. We’re safe.”

Deirdre didn’t feel it. Conor hadn’t acknowledged her as a daughter, the thing that would have made her truly safe from him. He had no respect for a woman’s vows or a woman’s honor; all that stood between him and taking her as if she were a possession was Naishe’s life, and Conor’s geis to keep him from taking that. If he’d called her daughter in front of all Ulster, then never would he dare to try to bed her; for a man to do such a foul thing, his own line would be cursed, and if it was the king, the whole land would be shamed and meet misfortune for generations. But he’d repudiated her claim to be his daughter. And Deirdre felt sure that meant he was still plotting to get her into his bed, over Naishe’s dead body.

She carried a knife with her, hidden away under her sleeve, in a clever sheath Aife had given her; tug on the cord that went to a ring on her middle finger, and the knife would slide forward into her hand. Naishe was troubled when he saw. “My love. Can’t you finally believe we’re safe? Let your guard down and be soft. We’re home!”

“Better to have it and never need it, then to need it and not have it,” Deirdre said. “Besides, it’s also good for this.” She plucked a fresh apple off the table and sliced it, twice, giving him the larger of the two with the lesser of the skin.

Naishe laughed, as she had hoped he would. “I suppose it is at that. Just be careful. Perhaps your dire fate is to stab yourself in the wrist while trying to cut an apple, and dying that way.”

Deirdre laughed as well. “I’ll take care.”

A season passed, and another, and another. Conor spoke to her with the respect due one of his loyal men’s wives, no more and no less, when he spoke to her at all.  Ardan and Ainle began to court women of Eire, their own lives no longer held fast to the need to protect their brother. Ainle went to battle when he was called, of course, but the rest of the time, he set about turning the lands of Usna into farms and orchards again. Ardan fished in the lake on the property, and brought back fine big salmon and delicious trout. And Naishe began talk of buying cattle, for to own cattle was one of the greatest wealths in Eire. For now, there were goats and chickens, helping Ainle to clear the land.

Deirdre slowly relaxed. Was it possible? Could they truly be safe, at last? And as her fear lessened, a child began to grow in her belly, to her and Naishe’s delight.

“A daughter, as beautiful as you! Or a son, to be a great warrior like his father!” Naishe said happily, dreaming aloud of the babe unborn.

“Why not a son as beautiful as I am, or a daughter to be a great warrior like her father?” Deirdre said lightly.

“For sure, why not?” Naishe laughed. “We should tell everyone! Have a feast, to celebrate!”

“No. It’s ill luck to celebrate a babe before quickening. My courses haven’t come in two months and I smell of pregnancy, but I’ve lost babes before at this stage. Tell no one until quickening, then if the babe is lost before then, only we need grieve it.”

“Well. All right. This is women’s business, so it should be as you say.”

“We can feast after the quickening,” Deirdre said. “When the babe begins to move inside me, then it’s less likely to be lost, and we can celebrate.”

***

That never happened.

The new moon had not quite even turned to full yet when Arden and Ainle returned to the home after battle, their faces streaked with blood and tears, and Naishe not with them.

Deirdre ran to them when she saw them approach. “Where’s Naishe? What happened?”

The two of them looked at each other. Finally Ainle said, his voice catching, “They – they brought his body to Emain Macha, to be buried with the rest of our dead.”

“What?” This isn’t happening, Deirdre thought, desperate to have not heard those words, to have them mean anything but what they did mean. “What do you mean? Why is he at Emain Macha?”

“He’s dead, Deirdre,” Ardan said, tears running down his face. “He – he fought bravely, but he fell—”

“NO!” she screamed, her hands forming into fists without her awareness. “He can’t be dead. It isn’t true! This – this is a cruel prank, that’s all—”

Ainle said sharply, “Deirdre, after all we’ve been through together, do you think we would joke about such a thing? Do you think we would say something so cruel to you if it wasn’t true? More than life itself I’d love to tell you, it’s a mistake, it wasn’t him, he’ll be coming along to see you shortly – but I saw him fall. I was near to him, but we were separated in the fight. I couldn’t reach him in time.”

“Was it Conor?” she hissed. “Did Conor slay my Naishe, after all?”

Ardan said, “No. Conor was toward the back, giving the orders, not in the front of the battle as we were. If it had been him, Ainle and I would have slain him where he stood.”

“The man who killed our brother slipped away in the heat of the battle,” Ainle said. “I didn’t get a good look at him, but if ever I learn his name, Ardan and I will not stop until our swords have spilled his life’s blood on the ground.”

“Naishe couldn’t have fallen in battle,” Deirdre whispered brokenly. “He was – so many battles he fought, so many men he slew, and always he returned to me…”

“The man who slew him came at him from behind, like a coward,” Ainle said. “If he had come around to Naishe’s front, he’d have had a true battle, to be sure, and likely his own blood spilled before the fight was done. But he slipped in, flung a spear through our brother’s back, and disappeared back into the fray before I could clearly see his face.”

“Then how do we know it wasn’t Conor?” Deirdre’s voice was bitter and shrill with her rage and grief.

“Because at that time, I could see Conor, at the back,” Ardan said. “So it couldn’t have been him.”

“Conor had his body taken to Emain Macha, to be given a hero’s funeral, alongside the rest of our comrades who died this day,” Ainle said. “Truly, Deirdre. I was suspicious too, to be sure, but Conor has done nothing today but behave as the good and fair king he was to us before we met you. He had nothing to do with Naishe’s fall. I’d swear to it.”

“When is this funeral?” Deirdre asked, her voice breaking.

“Why, today, of course. War dead are buried swiftly, that the rot will not take them before they’re safe in the ground.”

“Then I’ll go to Emain Macha, now.”

“Do you want to change clothes?” Ardan asked delicately. Deirdre had been cleaning. Her skirts were muddy at the bottom, her hair tangled with leaves and spiderwebs, stains from soap and filth both all over her clothing.

“No,” Deirdre said. “What does what I look like matter to me, if Naishe is dead? What does anything matter? I’ll go and mourn him and see him put in the ground, and then I will shrivel up and die as I swore.”

“You can’t do that!” Ardan said.

Ainle said, “Deirdre, Naishe told us of the babe. He said not to say anything to you, that you’d told him not to tell, but we swore to keep it secret until you were willing to announce it.”

“You can’t die if you’re carrying Naishe’s son in your belly,” Ardan pleaded. “He’d want you to carry on, to raise that babe to be a man.”

“And if it’s a daughter?” Deirdre challenged them.

“Then the same. Naishe would have loved a daughter equally well.”

“We’ll protect you, Deirdre,” Ainle said, “as we did when we stood at our brother’s side.  But you must live, for the sake of Naishe’s babe.”

“Fair enough,” she said, dully. She didn’t want to raise a fatherless child, not even with the help of the father’s brothers.  She didn’t want to do anything but throw herself into the grave on top of Naishe. But it was true; Naishe would want the babe to live and grow strong. For his sake, she’d find the strength to go on.

***

When Deirdre saw Naishe laid out, with the dire wound in his chest and his skin so pale and gray, she screamed. She threw herself on his body, tore at her clothes and hair, wept so hard she could barely breathe, and had to be bodily carried away by the brothers.

But such grief is exhausting. Once she was done weeping, she felt empty. The grief was not gone, but it had transmuted to a kind of despair, a low dark cloud over all that she did, and it took from her all her energy.

In Eire, a funeral was as much about celebrating the lives of the dead as it was about mourning them, so a feast was well underway and the ale was flowing freely by the time they reached the feasting hall. Many men wanted to tell Deirdre how sorry they were, how lucky a man Naishe had been in life, how brave a warrior, how noble in death. Many a woman tried to press food upon her, or drink, but she’d take nothing, not even water.

She sat at a table, alone in the midst of a crowd of revelers celebrating Naishe’s life, drinking and toasting to him and to the other men that fell today, and stared into nothing.

As night fell, Conor came to her, and spoke gently. “Deirdre. My girl. You should take something. A bite of this stewed goat, maybe, or pollock fresh from the coast.”

“No. I’ll eat and drink nothing today, the day my Naishe’s life ended.”

“At least an apple? A sip of ale? Water? No one would think ill of you for a sip of water.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” Deirdre said. “I want nothing but my Naishe back, and since I can’t have that, I’ll have nothing.”

“Well, then, at least you should rest, poor girl. This has been a terrible day for all Ulster, to lose a man as great as Naishe mac Usna, but your grief is the greatest of us all. Let me show you to a room where you can sleep.”

She looked for Ainle and Ardan, but they were surrounded by their fellow Ulstermen, drinking to Naishe and telling stories of his life. Conor’s eyes weren’t lustful; they were sorrowful, tired, concerned. He may never have acknowledged her as a daughter, but he was speaking to her now as if she were. “All right,” she said, for her weariness was bone deep. Perhaps she could sleep, and dream of nothing. Or perhaps see Naishe’s spirit in her dreams, and speak with him one last time.

Conor led her upstairs, to a well-made room with a large bed, piled with pillows and blankets, and held the door open for her. As soon as she went inside, heading for the bed, he followed her, and shut the door behind him.

Deirdre spun around at the sound of the door closing. Conor loomed between her and the door. “Now you’ll be my wife, Deirdre, as you were always meant to be,” he said, his face dark.

“You did kill my Naishe!” Deirdre accused.

Conor chuckled. “Of course I didn’t. I was under a geis, was I not? I could not kill Naishe, nor could any Ulsterman, or I’d be bound to cast them out. If I broke my oath it’d be ill luck for all Ulster.” He came toward her. “This will be our marriage night. Swear to me now that if I take you downstairs and ask to be sworn as your husband, you’ll say yes.”

“I’ll say no such thing. I’ll not marry another man with my Naishe dead, and certainly not with his body barely cold!”

“Then it’ll go ill for you,” Conor warned, backing her up against the bed.

“How? My husband is dead, my heart is broken. How does it go more ill than that?”

“I’ll take you as a concubine, not a wife,” Conor said. “Your children won’t inherit my title, and you’ll have no rights as a wife would.”

“I won’t allow that, either. I swore I’d be with no other man after Naishe if he should die,” she said, her heart hammering.

“I’m not giving you a choice.” Conor shoved her down onto the bed, his weight bearing her down. “I’ll have you tonight, here and now. I didn’t have you widowed to delay taking possession.”

“You – you just swore you didn’t kill him!” Deirdre’s voice was shrill with panic and rage.

“I didn’t,” Conor said, grinning. “My old enemy Owen mac Durthacht, king of Fernmag, struck the blow. I promised him friendship between us and all debts cleared away if he would slay the oldest son of Usna.” His head hovered over hers. “Ainle and Ardan can live, if you give yourself to me. Else I’ll take you now, willing or no, and then have them slain after I’m done.”

“You promised not to harm them!” Deirdre said desperately.

“I did, but when I swore I would cast out any Ulsterman, I mentioned only Naishe himself. An Ulsterman can kill Ainle and Ardan at my order, and throw their bodies into the grave to join their brother. If you don’t want that, you’d best be sweet to me.” He leered at her, then brought his head down and kissed her, mashing his lips against hers, his drunken breath all she could breathe.

The knife Naishe had thought she’d never need slipped into her hand, and Deirdre drove it through the side of Conor’s neck.

Conor merely grunted, and collapsed on her. Deirdre pushed his weight off her, with effort, to find that blood had pooled everywhere, covering the bed and her clothing, dripping onto the floor.

I killed him. I killed Conor. I killed the king.

He’d been a fear looming over her so long, and now he was dead. But it no longer mattered, because Naishe was also dead. She was free, but free to do nothing, for the love she’d have enjoyed her freedom with was gone.

Also if she was found like this, she’d probably hang, or be put to the sword.

This room had been set aside for female guests. Deirdre rummaged in the wardrobe to find a hooded cloak, a dull brown color like a wren. She put it on and slipped out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her, and went in search of Lavarcam.

As usual, Lavarcam was to be found in the kitchen, entertaining the cooks and wenches with a lewdly funny tale. Deirdre had snuck out to the kitchen many a night when she was supposed to be asleep. Lavarcam didn’t cook; she used to say that a satirist didn’t need to cook, for any household in Eire would be happy to feed her, to hear her tales and make sure they stayed on her good side, so as not to fall subject to one of them.

From the door near the back corner, she called, quietly. “Lavarcam!”

Deirdre had the sort of voice that, even when she wasn’t loud, people heard her. Lavarcam turned, and went to her. “Deirdre?”

“I need to speak to you,” she said, meaning, privately. Lavarcam recognized her tone and followed her out of the kitchen, into a large cedar pantry full of barrels of grain.

“What is it, child?”

Deirdre let her robe fall open, let the knife still covered with Conor’s blood show.  “I killed Conor,” she whispered. “He… he let me think he would be sympathetic, that he cared, and then he tried to have his way with me.”

Lavarcam’s eyes were wide. “On the very night of your husband’s funeral! What incredible disrespect. But child… the law does not protect a widow. There are laws that say a virgin’s allowed to kill to protect her honor, and a wife to keep her vow to her husband, but nothing says a widow has the same right.”

“Bring me Ainle and Ardan,” Deirdre said. “We need to flee. Aife in Alba to the west promised me sanctuary if ever I should need it.” She swallowed. “There’s more. He had Naishe killed. He couldn’t do it himself, nor order an Ulsterman to do it, so he made peace with an old enemy just so that man could kill Naishe in the heat of battle.”

“Did he tell you that enemy’s name?”

“Owen mac Durthacht. King of Fernmag.”

Lavarcam whistled. “An enemy indeed. He and Conor have been raiding each other’s cattle and poking at each other’s territories for decades. To make friends with that man, just to strike down a man who’d pledged loyalty to him… that’s a foul thing to do. I’ll go and get the brothers. Come with me first, though.”

Lavarcam brought Deirdre to another room to wait. “There are clean gowns in the wardrobe here that might fit you, well enough to travel in any case, and the servants have brought up a basin of water for whatever guest might sleep here. It’s not warm, but it’ll do the job. Wash the blood off.”

Deirdre washed and changed into a clean gown, and then Ainle and Ardan were there, with Lavarcam. “Is it true?” Ardan asked, fiercely. “Conor had Naishe killed?”

“And you killed him for that?” Ainle was disbelieving, not in the way of a man who suspects lies but in the way of a man seeing something impossible before his eyes.

“Not only for that. He wanted me to bend to his will and agree to marry him. He said, if I didn’t, he’d take me by force and then have the two of you killed.” She shuddered. “I’d have done it to avenge Naishe, I’d have done it to protect myself, but as it happened, I did it also to protect the two of you.”

“And what was the name of the man who killed our brother, then?” Ainle asked. His voice was harsh, but Deirdre knew the harshness was not for her.

“Owen mac Durthacht. King of Fernmag.”

“We’ll kill him,” Ainle said.

“Brother,” Ardan said, “we will, but first, we need to flee. No one will believe a woman killed Conor; they’ll think we did it to protect her honor, but he’s the king we swore to and the penalty for harming him would be death.”

“True enough,” Ainle said. “So to flee it is, then.”

“Where shall we go?” Ardan asked.

Deirdre spoke. “To Aife. She promised me sanctuary if ever I should need it, and Conor’s men can’t reach us there. With Aife, you might find allies who’ll help you to kill Owen mac Durthacht. No matter how fierce a warrior, it’s no easy thing to kill a king.”

“Unless you’re a woman, and you carry a knife, and he tries to have his way with you?” Ardan said, lightly, as if he were trying to make a joke to lighten the tension, but it was not lightened.

“I’ll have the kitchen make you up a pack of victuals for the journey, right quick,” Lavarcam said. “Get your horses, and the kitchen maid will bring the pack out to you. Then ride as swift as you can.”

“What about you, Lavarcam?” Deirdre said. “Will they suspect you of helping us?”

“After the next song I sing, they won’t care anymore,” Lavarcam said darkly.

***

And so it came to pass that the remaining sons of Usna fled to Alba and took service with Aife the warrior queen, again, and gladly she gave them sanctuary. They found their allies, and before the year was out, Owen mac Durthacht was dead, struck down by a spear in the back just as he had killed Naishe mac Usna.

In Ulster, as soon as Conor was found dead, a hue and cry was set for the sons of Usna, until Lavarcam revealed that she knew something of the why of the events. In front of all the Ulstermen, she sang her newest song, where she told all of Conor’s plot and the why of Naishe’s death, and then mocked him for being so besotted with a woman, he couldn’t leave her alone even on the day of her husband’s death. Words were spoken about the good and fair king who’d arranged the death of one of his sworn men by turning to an enemy, about the warrior king who was killed by a woman he wanted to bed.

This enraged Fergus mac Roy, who less than a year ago had brought the sons of Usna home to Ulster on Conor’s promise not to harm them. He declared that Conor had dishonored his own line, and Conor’s son Feena should not take the throne; his blood was tainted by Conor’s deeds. Fergus demanded his kingship back. Though he’d sold it to Conor’s mother on behalf of her son for a year when Conor was young, though Ulster had been offended by this and impressed by youthful Conor’s wisdom enough to say that Conor should stay king and Fergus remain demoted in rank… many of the men who remembered that also remembered that Conor had sworn he would not harm the sons of Usna, and the weasel words of a man saying he would not do harm, but hiring another to do the deed, and they thought Fergus had proven himself more true than Conor. Others remained loyal to Conor’s line and young Feena – including Fergus’s own son Buinn, who was promised land and rank if he should fight his father. Buinn being the younger, and Ilann already having a baby son of his own, Buinn would likely never become king even if his father did, so the bribe was potent.

Ulster was torn apart in bloody civil war, as Cathba had predicted, so many years ago. Brother took arms against brother, and good men on both sides died.

Deirdre cared nothing for this. Though Ardan and Ainle brought her news of home every chance they had to hear some, none of it mattered to her. She had no loyalty to Ulster. Fergus might be defending his own honor, or trying to avenge Naishe, but most likely, she thought, he saw the opportunity to take back his kingship, and he was taking it.

Her belly swelled, and in the fullness of time, she bore Naishe’s son, who she named Felim mac Naishe, after her own father that she’d never been allowed to know. Ardan and Ainle took wives in Alba, and raised their own sons and daughters, who looked to their cousin as if he was an older brother to them all.

One day she was gathering mushrooms, and saw a fairy circle. She sat beside it for a time, and soon enough there was a Sidhe in the circle. It might have been the same woman, though it was almost impossible to tell for certain.

“Good neighbor,” Deirdre said. “I’ve brought cakes, and good fresh milk in a jug, and cooked fish wrapped in leaves and roasted, and a necklace of gold and pearls.” So many men had wanted to give Deirdre gifts, over the years. They meant nothing to her. She carried some on her person at all times, though, just in case she met the Sidhe again and could cajole more advice from her… and the opportunity was upon her now. “Tell me, if you will. I stood fast when I could, I argued with my man and tried to lead him away from danger, but still I failed. Should I have done more? Why did my fate find me anyway?”

“Give me the things you’ve promised, and I will tell you,” the Sidhe said, and when she was done eating the fish and the cakes, and drinking the milk, and the necklace was around her neck, she said, “It didn’t.”

“What didn’t? Didn’t what?”

“Your fate didn’t find you,” the Sidhe said. “Had you not argued when you did, and begged, and stood fast when you could, then your fate would have been far darker. All the sons of Usna would have been dead, and you, Conor’s prize, till at last you would have taken your own life. You would not have Naishe’s son. This is what you earned, by fighting.”

“But Naishe died, and all of Ulster is still torn in two. Everything that Cathba predicted has come to be. Except Fergus mac Roy is still fighting, so far as I know, and is not exiled from Ulster.”

“He will be,” the Sidhe said. “Even though Conor’s son is dead, there are many who suspect Fergus of ill motives, and wish to elect an entirely new king. All that Cathba predicted, will come, for that was the fate of Ulster. You changed your fate. And you were able to change that of Naishe’s brothers. That was all you ever had the power to do.” She laughed, and sang.

“Call me not fatality
The sorrow I brought was brought on me
Only call it destiny…”

“So I could never have won happiness with Naishe until we were old and gray.”

“That lot rarely falls to the wife of a warrior, anyway. Those that live by the blade usually die by the blade.” The Sidhe smiled, too wide and with far too much gum showing. “But you have won yourself less sorrow, Deirdre wife of Naishe mac Usna. Be pleased!”

A burden she’d been carrying since Naishe’s death lightened, ever so slightly. Her grief for losing him was still unbearable… but now she knew she hadn’t failed. Naishe’s fate hadn’t been within her power to change.

“I am pleased by your wisdom, good neighbor,” Deirdre said, for it is dangerous to thank the Fae, and got up.

“Bring some cream out, from time to time, and some slices of pie, or puddings. It will go well for you if you do.”

“As well as can be with my heart lying in a grave in Eire,” Deirdre said, “but for the sake of my son and my brothers-in-law, I will.”

She tied the empty jug back onto her apron string, and when she looked back, the Sidhe was gone.