Niall Mac Nechtan, Lord of the Tuatha Dé Danann, Steward of the North of the blessed kingdom of Mag Tuired, travels to the lands of the barbaric Kirinches to investigate a mysterious murder that has taken place in his lands. Carried away by the prev...
In fact, the rest of the journey was uneventful. Niall threw another comb behind him after a couple of days of travel. He didn't see the chase, but the Kirinches knew how to send messages with pigeons and even falcons. The storm would delay not only the horsemen, but also the bird flying, for example, to Anzhou with a message describing their appearance and ordering to seize them and put in prison.
He used the mirror when he got tired of the rocky desert, of the road dust and the stale water from saddle bags. He threw it across the road, in a hollow between the hills, where a wonderful lake full of fresh water appeared immediately. The road to Khanbaliq would be lengthened by a couple of days until the lake dried up (if at all).
Niall felt a fleeting touch of envy for the power of Elatha Mac Lir and his magical arsenal. Niall himself knew only how to charge traps that stunned those who touched them. Not bad for hunting, but practically useless in a war.
It was generally a silly thing, envying Elatha, because he was born in Erin and absorbed the magical power of her green hills. It must have been an illusion that his braid only reached his ankles. Elatha didn't want to reveal his true age.
Finn the slave prudently hid himself under a veil before entering Anzhou, and no one in the city even spared their caravan a glance. Only Fergus himself looked warily at the white-haired slave, especially when the latter put Faolan's silver bracelet on his wrist and did not take it off again. Niall was pleased to look at his trophy and remember how he had fūcked the Yuizhen of the Kirinches in his own house, on his own bed. And took a piece of jewelry as a keepsake.
Interestingly, Fergus didn't dare to inquire about the fate of Faolan Three Swords, although he obviously very much wanted to. He probably just didn't want to learn that the Yuizhen was no longer among the living. Niall chuckled to himself and did not enlighten him. In any case, the merchant would be no longer welcome in Khanbaliq, and indeed in the whole North. Niall hoped Elatha would reward Fergus adequately, and return his son, umm, not very exhausted.
This time they crossed the sea border of Mag Tuired in the afternoon, and Niall realized that without his magic he could not even see the Queen's Shield. He could feel, not see: this moment he was beyond the Shield, and the next moment inside it, that's all. That was probably how mortals felt it. Pity, because here, at sea, the Queen's Shield looked spectacular: the crystal curtain flowed over the sea like water, shimmered with rainbows on a sunny day, sparkled and shined. Elatha Mac Lir had shown it to Niall. In the forest of Cruithne Corann the Shield looked like a foggy haze pierced by the rays of sunshine.
Once the ship got inside the Shield, Niall immediately ordered the merchant to steer it towards the shore. Here, at the very northwestern tip of the kingdom, was Mag Sceane Cromlech, which didn't belong to any of the Tuatha Dé lords. Niall had long since decided that he would not waste time traveling back to Ynis Celt.
The merchant wrought his hands and tried to insist that he should return Finn the slave to his master Elatha safe and sound, as his master had ordered.
Niall chuckled, looked into the merchant's eyes and said earnestly, "Fergus, enough. You should've realized already that I'm not a mere slave!" Niall barely restrained himself from saying 'not a mere mortal' — it absolutely wouldn't do if Fergus suspected the truth. "Elatha Mac Lir ordered you to follow my command, and I command you to steer to Mag Sceane. Your master will be pleased that I have successfully completed my mission. Here, give this to him as a token of my gratitude!" Niall handed him silver plates inlaid with sapphires, which he had torn off from Fao's belt.
It wouldn't be too smart to weave them into his braid, they were heavy, and they could melt from his magic. And Elatha loved precious stones, especially blue- and green-colored ones.
The merchant fell to his knees and, almost with tears in his eyes, began begging Finn the slave to return to Ynis Celt nevertheless. But Niall was adamant. He promised to send Elatha a message through the dolmens to confirm that the merchant had done everything that was required of him and could get his son back. Fergus had no choice but to lower the boat from the deck and take Niall ashore.
The Cromlech of Mag Sceane looked exactly like a cromlech that hadn't been used for at least a century. The standing stones were covered with moss, the space between them was overgrown with shrubs. One of the cross-stones collapsed, splitting into two pieces. Fortunately, this did not affect the magical properties of the cromlech.
When Nechtan Mac Ethliu was the Keeper of the North, he must have made sure that all the cromlechs and dolmens of the North were kept in good condition. But it was unlikely that Diarmuid Mac Bres followed his example. And when Daire Mac Cormac was granted the lordship of Ath Luain, he immediately started a dispute with Elatha Mac Lir about the fact that Mag Sceane Cromlech was on the west coast, and therefore under the jurisdiction of the Keeper of the West. The dispute had continued to this day.
When Niall Mac Nechtan pressed his palm to the central dolmen of Mag Sceane, he could not help but think that his journey to the North three months ago also started with a message to Daire Mac Cormac, Keeper of the North, master of Ath Luain Castle.
Niall felt a slight twinge of shame. He had visited Daire occasionally in the past twenty years, but never on his own initiative, always on business, always as the Steward of the North, and always at Daire's call. So Daire probably would be surprised, when he got a request from Niall to receive him in Ath Luain Castle and come meet him at the cromlech, alone.
The escort of the master of Ath Luain was absolutely necessary. Under no circumstances would Niall knock on the gates of Daire's castle in his current mortal form. Exactly here he would be raped a dozen times before being taken to the master of the house. The hunters of Daire's retinue loved such brutal entertainment, and their master only incited them.
Niall thought, joylessly, that he was going to ask Daire for a favor, which he had never done before, and would have to pay the same price as with Elatha Mac Lir. But it wouldn't be as pleasant. Niall hoped Daire would be satisfied with one night, maybe two.
Daire Mac Cormac didn't seem particularly attractive to him, although he certainly wasn't repulsive, with his tall figure, broad shoulders, and disheveled, always half-loose braid. Daire, by the way, also liked to flaunt his muscular torso, like a barbarian from the North, although he didn't go about naked to the waist, more often in a sleeveless jacket unbuttoned on his powerful chest. Niall couldn't help but feel a slight sweet thrill as he looked at Daire's pectorals and washboard abs bulging under the dark skin. But those boorish manners of his, and his complete inability to court a man in any other way than grabbing his ass or flattening him on the wall and sticking his tongue almost down his throat!
His inner voice commented sarcastically, Yeah, right, climbing into your bedroom at night and putting a knife to your throat is much more erotic!
Niall sighed and remembered again Faolan's first kiss: so fierce, so rough, and so amazingly hot.
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The most famous cromlech is Stonehenge. Cromlechs in my story are basically similar, but they have only one standing stone in the center, like a control desk, to use the portal spell and send messages, and portals are opened between any two standing stones crossed by a third in the outer ring, probably in the corresponding direction.
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