The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 38

The owner of Sliabh Mis Castle, unexpectedly returning late at night, woke up the guards at the gate, and all the servants and cooks. Once again, Niall thought how inconvenient it was that the cromlechs were situated at some distance from the castle and from human dwellings as well (something about the magic of portals, ley lines and energy wells).

It was possible to put a single dolmen for messages inside the castle, but very few lords wanted to. Why, you would have to immediately respond to any nonsense that the owner of a neighboring castle wanted to send you, like: "Come see my new pair of horses." Or from a superior lord: "I command you to come immediately!" Usually even the most urgent message was given no less than a couple of days to answer, and few things could not have waited a couple of days. Anyway, then the addressee would go through the cromlech and get on the other end of Mag Tuired in the blink of an eye.

Also, it was impossible to lock up a cromlech, like a castle gate. It was only possible to bring down all the standing stones and do something else in addition, Niall didn't remember exactly. So, theoretically, any of the lords of the Tuatha Dé could appear out of any cromlech at any time (although it was considered impolite doing so without an invitation), and better outside the castle gate than inside.

Niall relished in the hot bath, washing off the scent of Daire Mac Cormac, which was like pine resin and freshly sawn wood. He was afraid that he would feel the marks of his fingers on his skin for a long time to come, would remember the rough caresses that left bruises. But Daire regularly healed his bruises, and if something remained, then after washing in a magic cauldron it disappeared without a trace. The magical transformation in the Cauldron of Coirann seemed to scorch his skin, sweep over him with lightning charges, renewing his entire being. Now it felt as if that was really Finn the slave who spent three weeks in Daire's bedroom, and not Niall.

Although, some of the memories of Finn the slave Niall really cherished: for example, the limp body of the Yuizhen of the Kirinches in his arms. He wanted to feel it one more time, ten more times, only Fao's eyes should be open, and he should be conscious and resisting, at least for about ten minutes. And then he would moan and give up...

Niall noisily exhaled and covered his groin with a washcloth. He was waited on by old Matha, who had a strict sense of decency and a habit of respectfully, but tediously reprimanding the lord for any frivolity. He had no special right to do so — well, except for the thirty years that he had spent as the steward of Sliabh Mis Castle and head of all the servants. Niall was amused by his grumbling, and Matha was a superb steward, too.

After Daire was granted ownership of Ath Luain Castle and vacated Sliabh Mis, about a hundred years ago, the latter was not officially held by any of the lords of the Tuatha Dé, and the title of Steward of the North was vacant. Unofficially, Queen Morrigan made no secret of the fact that this was the future legacy of Niall Mac Nechtan, if he showed himself worthy of his father's memory. Matha, apparently, wasn't that old when he was appointed the next steward of Sliabh Mis by the previous one. He single-handedly had ruled the whole castle for about ten years before Niall Mac Nechtan came. For a mortal, this was probably the pinnacle of power in the realm of Mag Tuired.

Niall was a little surprised that he had thought about it now, for the first time in all the years that Matha had served him. He should've probably ask Matha at some point how things were going before Niall's first visit. If Niall would be able to get a word in, of course, because all evening Matha grumpily recounted to the lord everything that had happened in the castle during his absence of almost four months, including the leaky and hastily repaired stable roof, which would have to be re-covered when the spring rains ended.

In the realm of Mag Tuired there was no winter or autumn, only two alternating seasons — a rainy and a sunny one. At the beginning of the rainy season, the fields were sown, and the season was called spring by tradition. At the end of the sunny season the fields were harvested, and it was called, easy to guess, summer. Each season was about two months long, and there were six of them in a year, so that the farmers of Mag Tuired had three crops a year. No one here starved or hunted for food (not mentioning that the game in the forest belonged to the lord). In Daire's lands, for example, only the fennids were allowed to hunt.