[COMPLETED] The Vixen and The Thief

Chapter 32

Beibhinn dragged her eyes open.

Silence.

Slowly she untangled her fingers from her hair.

Nothing but the ringing in her ears and the pale light, so strong that she squinted against it. Ailbe stood over her, looking down at her, her mouth still open. And Beibhinn understood somehow that she was within the sound, where all was still, as at the heart of a storm. Slowly Ailbhe crouched, right before her, looking straight into her eyes. Beibhinn saw that Ailbe's own eyes were filmed, like those of an old, old woman's. The Bean Sídhe reached her hand for her.

She's going to take me! Thought Beibhinn, scrambling back, or at least she tried to, but hardly moved an inch over the stone floor.

Ailbhe's finger's closed around her throat, so cold they burned. Beibhinn gasped, feeling the cold seeping outwards

Ailbhe leaned in closer, and her grip tightened, nails digging into the blood vessels, sealing off their flow.

"Now Beibhinn Uí Bhrian, " she whispered, and paused. Beibhinn felt the ice spreading through her arms, down into her chest. She was sinking into sleep. A sleep from whence, this time, there would be no return.

"Know this Beibhinn," said Ailbhe, Beibhinn barely heard her, "I now owe you no debt.".

Then she dropped her. Releasing her grip and letting her fall back onto the cave floor. Then rising to her feet as an uprush of cold wind, Ailbhe reached out her arms, hands swirling, a beckoning motion, but not, Beibhinn felt, for her.

Then Ailbhe was no longer there.

****

 It was yellow light now that touched her eyes as they opened again. The warmth of living flames.

The torch which had fallen to the floor still burned and it alone moved, for all else was still

Ruadhán and An Beitheach lay on the floor. Beibhinn's eyes rested on them without feeling, seeing the red staining spreading over the stones

Conn lay crookedly against the wall, his eyes closed. She watched him. He was moving, she noted after a moment.Or at least, his hands were, twisting behind his back as though he were trying to wrest them from the ropes.

He looked up suddenly. His eyes wild with fear.

"Ruadhán!" he exclaimed, his arms moving as though he would point. "Look to him!"

Awoken , Beibhinn tried to stand, but fell forwards, scrambling like an infant to where brother and foe lay, Ruadhán beneath, An Beitheach over him.

She caught An Beitheach by the shoulder, rolling his great weight sideways. The knife fell from between them into the folds of Ruadhán's cloak. An Beitheach drew a harsh gasp, his eyes flicking but not seeing her.

"Ruadh. Ruadh!" she pulled a strand of her hair, holding it above his mouth. It moved slightly.

He breathed.

Far far away she heard the sounds of people.

"Conn! She shouted, "Go find the others."

"Give - the knife," snapped Conn.

Beibinn shoved it to him, hardly looking.

Her hands moved, seeking wounds, a source for all this blood. Ruadhán moaned, and drew a deeper breath. He did not seem to have taken anything grave, but then -

Her eyes turned to An Beitheach lying on the cold stone, his eyes unblinking, his breaths ragged. And the blood that covered his tunic was new, fresh, ever welling from the rent in the fabric over his side.

Conn stumbled past and ducked outside. Beibhinn lunged for the knife he'd left behind, seizing it and rending it through her own cloak, tearing off jagged strips. Rolling them and wedging them against the deep wound. Blood, bright and warm welled around her strained fingers, soaking every scrap that she held to the puncture, again and again and again..

Ruadhán moved slightly. An Beitheach was still.

With a stab of horror, Beibhinn realised that in many, many moments she had not seen him breath

A Dhia! She looked down. His open eyes were very still.

"Breathe!" She tapped his face. But he did not respond.

"Oh my God," said Beibhinn urgently, " I am sorry...Say it!" she ordered the man before her, "I am sorry for my wrongs...Please! Think it! Just think it. Have mercy on me a Dhia...Think on it..."

She leaned down to his ear, whispering, begging whatever spark might linger to make amends while there was still a chance.

"Have mercy on me a Dhia."

The coming shouts were louder now, recognisable as snatches of war cries.

"O'Bhriain... Ó...Abú... Céide...éíde.."

"Oh my God," whispered Beibhinn again, "Have mercy..."

And near, so near she heard Conn's voice, louder and stronger than she ever would have thought, "O' Bhriain abú!" he shouted.

And his kin answered

"O'Bhriain abú!"

Beibhinn sat back on her heels, dragging her hands over her eyes, heedless of their loathsome, sticky touch.

Ruadhán opened his eyes slowly, and as they cleared they were warm for her.

Beibhinn took a scrap of cloak from the ground and laid it over the once-lovely face of An Beitheach.

Then slowly, for the last time in that mountain, she raised her hand and made the sign of the cross.

Author's note:

Well? Thoughts?

It's certainly not quality writing (look at all the commas!) but it's the second last chapter, so I'm rolling on regardless.

Abú:  Nope, not the monkey in Aladdin, but rather the equivalent of 'Up' in a cheer. In other words, "Up Dublin!" shouted at a match would be "Baile Átha Cliath abú!"