Page 147 of Cathmoir's Sons

“Can we heal this?” Aehelwen asks.

“No, it’s the Mother’s gift. Like so many of her gifts, it may be uncomfortable to bear at first,” the Holly King says, his jaw feathering.

His knight touches the Holly King’s face with gentle fingers but says nothing further.

“I didn’t expect you to stand with me,” Caileán says to the Holly King. “Thank you.”

The Holly King fastens his robes on with one hand, swaddling his burned arm against his chest. “As I’m sure you’ve divined by now, I’ve parted paths from my former liege. My oaths don’t allow me to kill him, despite what I said. But I will support you in the war you’ve declared. He cannot banish me from Ivywhile, although he can momentarily eject me. When you’re ready to go against him, I will bring you to him.”

Caileán puts her hand on his shoulder. “Rest and heal as much as you can. The Mother’s crafted that blade for a purpose. If it’s not destined for the Oak King’s heart, it might be destined for Emnyre’s.”

The Holly King nods. “He cannot be allowed to take the Oak King’s crown.”

“Will you take it?” Caileán asks.

Aehelwen sighs. “That is my burden to bear. The Mother visited me with true dreams after She brought Aranthann back. We will end our days as oak and holly entwined. Or in ashes. I have Seen both ends.”

“True Sight is a hard gift,” Law says, standing close behind Caileán. “If you need a place to rest and heal, Cait House is open to you.”

The Holly King nods. “Thank you, Prince. I’ll avail myself of your hospitality.”

Caileán turns her head to look over her shoulder at Law. “I want to return to Ty Olewydd. I know I just declared war and you might need to be with your family?—”

“You are my family,” Law says. “Where you go, I go. Scilla is just as much a den as Cait House. My father and mother can come to Scilla if we need to confer.”

Caileán’s eyes sheen. “Thank you, my love.”

“Anything for you, my queen.”

Chapter 42

The Mother’s Breast

CAILEÁN

After turning my pen around in my fingers for what feels like hours, I write:

On a day like this one, many, many years ago, two young Crow Queens disguised themselves as goose wives and drove their geese into the human market town of Whitchurch in Alfred’s Kingdom of Wessex, looking for adventure.

Two small black cats herded the honking geese, keeping the flock in line better than any sheep dog. Villagers who saw the cats made the sign of the evil eye, because these black cats bore the white stars of Faery on their chests. But the goose wives waved off their superstition and continued on their way. They sold their flock at the great goosemarket. With a handful of silverpennies, and their cats draped around their necks like scarves, they mingled with the marketgoers.

The main attraction that day was a poet with a voice like honeyed thunder, commanding the crowd with every word. He told the story of the Battle of Edington, where Alfred the Great defeated the Danes, but when he saw the two Crow Queens on the edge of the crowd, his words changed.

“Alfred stood at Edington’s height,

In his armor, a star gleaming in darkest night,

Much like these maids before me here,

Whose ice-blue gazes Vikings fear.

The Danes came forth with shield and sword,

But Alfred’s wisdom was their lord.

His ravens brought him secret word,

Of Danish weakness seen by bird.

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