[COMPLETED] The Vixen and The Thief

Chapter 29

As she sat, The O Chinnéide came in the door. With him was a stooping grey haired man and another fellow in a long dark tunic with a hood. After helping himself and his guests to dinner, The O Chinneide came to stand by Beibinn.

"An t-Athair Breandán, our priest, and an t-Uaisle Donnacha the filí," he said. Beibhinn stood to greet them.

She realied then that the eyes of the fili were quite opaque and sightless. She offered him her place to sit, but he remained standing.

The O Chinnide asked her once more to recount her story, which she did, wondering for what they had come. It was not for pure curiosity anyway.

Then there was silence.

"So you see," said The O Chinneide at last, "It is within the mountain itself that An Beitheach dwells."

"There are many waays into this mountain?" asked the blind bard, turning his face nonetheless towards her.

Beibhinn nodded. "I believe so." she said, "We entered through a tunnel with a river and Conn and I fled through another. Another time I was taken out briefly through a dry passage above a wee cliff. Within, the place  is as full of passages as a honeycomb."

And this way by which you left - the one with the river - it was a main path, do you think?"

Frowning at the memory of the dark way, and the fear that she might put them wrong, she replied, "I am very sure it was not. My brother I think told me that there were many ways deep down that were little used, and this one was as small as a  souterrain, and outside was overgrown. Although," she addded, "I do not know if now An Beitheach has paid it more attention."

 The thoughtful tone of the men could only indicate one thing, and she would not have them blundering into his hands.

The O Chinneide pulled his beard. "It seems to me, " he said " That in these passages lie our greatest - our only hope  of ousting An Beitheach and his men from their fort.'

There was a  murmur of agreement.

"We will need many men with us though," he continued, "For we will need to ttack more than one place at once. Two, maybe three bands to draw, and one at least to enter the mountain itself. Others to mark the entrances, lest the rats flee.." he added quietly to himself.

"There are many ways for this to go awry," said the fili, " The paths must be marked on entering, so as not to be lost in retreat. How would one find the way to begin with," he added, "If Sliabh na bhFian be as  hollow as the girl here says?"

"True," replied The O Chinneide, but his tone was confident, as one who has already considered and overcome such obstacles. His eyes fell on Beibhinn.

"Beibhinn Ní Bhriain," he said, "I hope to ask you father and family to aid us in this effort. But we are in need of a guide who knows the way. Will you come with us and show us what paths you took?"

Beibhinn looked up sharply. "I do not know much of the ways inside the mountain, " she said, "I would be afraid to set you wrong. I most likely would."

"No more than any of the others who have never been there," replied The O Chinneide. "I would ask you at least to show us the small tunnel by which you escaped. After that you may accompany us as you wish."

Beibhinn felt a sick, dead fear falling over her, seeping through her limbs, pinning her down

Go...back? There? Within reach of his arm? She remembered An Beitheach's face when last she had seen him. So fair, but bent with fury and hate.

His words too...would you ever run from me? She could feel herself shrinking inwards, folding up away from the memory of the fire and dark. I will never let you escape...

The O Chinneide was watching her gravely, his two councellors also.

What hope had they of finding the tunnel on all the heathery stretchs of mountain? It was their only chance. The one chance to break the man's hold.

She opened her mouth to reply but her tongue stuck dry to its roof, the words vanishing.

What of Conn? What of Ruadhán? And the abbott?

She swallowed, searching for  word.

"Well Beibhinn, will you be our guide?"

She lifted her chin and looked the chieftain in the eyes.

"I will." she said stoutly, before the words could flee again.

Author's Note:

Done. And good luck to it, pathetic specimen that it is.