The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 47

Fast as lightning, Niall Mac Nechtan rushed into the golden tent of the Yuizhen, almost tearing it off the ropes and pegs. He slowed down and stood still, enjoying the fact that the Yuizhen blanched in the face and grabbed his sword instinctively.

"Your ransom," Niall said with regal air, throwing the bags at the feet of the barbarian leader.

A few armed warriors ran into the tent, letting in the glow of the setting sun and the noise of the camp, alarmed by the silver lightning (which was how Niall's arrival must have looked like).

Fao sheathed his saber and put it back on the stand beside the low bed covered with furs. He waved his hand, dismissing his soldiers, and didn't look at all that gold and silver thrown at his feet, looking only at Niall. Niall met his eyes with a defiant look, pulled up his sleeve and took off the silver-turquoise bracelet. He threw it at the feet of the Yuizhen too. Faolan caught it mid-air, smiled and put it on his swarthy muscular wrist.

"Count it all, maybe it's not enough," Niall said through clenched teeth.

He was terribly angry, mostly at himself. Before, he took a few extra moments to look around the camp, and found that there were far fewer Kirinches than he had initially thought. They still had no ladders, no stone throwers, and no battering rams. If it wasn't for the f&cking white eagle, they never would have even come close to the castle walls!

Oh, how much Niall wished to knew in advance about the third beast! But what would he have done differently? Should he have ordered to burn fires all night and watch the sky? Yeah, so that the enemy archers would have shot down all Niall's warriors from the walls lit by fires. And the Shield of Lightning wouldn't have stopped the eagle, just as it hadn't stopped the white wolf.

Maybe he shouldn't have spent so much magical power on his spectacular arrival. His magic recovered a little during the day, but not nearly enough. He had spent too much of it in battle, and too little time had passed. The Elemental Lords needed at least a day and a night to fully restore their magical power. Did Fao know about it when he demanded of Niall to bring the ransom so fast? If he was planning some trick or betrayal, Niall's power would be far from its peak.

Niall was angry with Fao too, ironically, much more now than during the night battle. They had been equal then, but now Niall had to appear as a suppliant, unarmed, bringing ransom for his castle. He also had to dress up, as Fao demanded, in his cotta of silver silk with hoarfrost patterns, so that the Yuizhen of the Kirinches wouldn't have a reason to say that the Stewart of the North didn't fulfill his end of the bargain.

But the Yuizhen himself didn't even think of smarten up for the Steward of the North's arrival. He was wearing loose silk trousers and what was called a khalat in Mengyu: a loose, wide-sleeved silk robe. The robe was not even tied up with a sash, but opened from top to bottom.

However, Niall was pleased to see that the Yuizhen's bare chest was crisscrossed by a bandage, and there were even quite a few drops of blood soaked through. There was a cut on his neck, also from Niall's sword, a bruise under his eye, and his lower lip was swollen. And he moved a little stiffly — what other bruises and cuts received in battle were hidden under thin silk?

Niall's anger was suddenly tinged with a completely different feeling, and his eyes gleamed with a predatory light. He glanced over his shoulder at the tent entrance — oh, he had alarmed too many barbarians with his grand arrival, they were now alert and nervous, clutching their sword hilts with sweaty palms, and would immediately run in at any noise. But if Niall wouldn't give Fao a chance to scream...

"Wine, Niall Mac Nechtan?" Fao offered courteously, taking a jug and a cup from the low table beside the bed. "Let's drink to my victory!"

"Your victory!" Niall made a face. "Even with the third beast and that sneaky night attack, you couldn't capture my castle! I should have cut off your head, and then no one would have dared to breach the sacred borders of Mag Tuired for another three hundred years!"

"Yes, I'm too a little surprised to have my head on my shoulders still." Fao poured himself some wine, beamed at Niall, and saluted him with his cup. "Come to think of it, you could have killed me back then in Khanbaliq, but for some reason didn't. And in our last fight, there was a moment where you could have easily landed a killing blow."

"Three such moments, even by the most conservative estimates!" Niall retorted indignantly.

Fao chuckled and took a sip of his wine, and Niall felt his cheeks heat up. He basically admitted out loud that he cared about the barbarian leader. However, after everything that happened between them, there was no point in pretending anymore.

"If you don't want to share food and drink with me, then you'll have to swear, Niall Mac Nechtan, that you won't use any spells against me or my warriors, let's say, until dawn. Then you'll be free of that promise. And you'll have to leave on foot, like a mere mortal. I'm even willing to lend you a horse."

"Liath Macha?" Niall asked sarcastically. "The one you ride?"

"Ah, that's what it used to be called. Now I call it by a new name: Raiden."

Niall really wanted to accelerate and strangle Fao. Well, just a little, obviously, not to death, so that the barbarian would become silent and pliant. Bad, bad idea! Niall already knew that having a semi-conscious bed partner was not interesting at all. Not to mention that all Fao's warriors would run into the tent after the noise of the struggle, and then there would be a bloodbath.

Well, let Faolan Three Swords feel safe. Let him celebrate 'his victory', let him break the camp and return to the lands of the Kirinches. Niall would go to Daire Mac Cormac and persuade him to join forces. Actually, Niall's paying the ransom could be passed off as a cunning plan that forced the barbarians to leave — so that they could be caught up with and mowed down (which was much easier to do on the march than in a fortified camp). Let Daire get half of the ransom or even all of it, Niall would demand only the leader of the Kirinches as a reward. On a chain, with a slave collar on, oh yeah.

He smiled and swore by the name of the goddess Danu not to cast any spells on Faolan Three Swords or his warriors until dawn.

"If that's all, let me take my leave, valiant Yuizhen of the Kirinches. I have no time to drink wine with you. Lots to do, you know. We have to repair the drawbridge, haul away burnt logs, and bury the dead. And I should also report to the Keeper of the North that the Kirinches had invaded Mag Tuired, if only because of a personal feud with the Steward of the North."

"Not so fast, Niall Mac Nechtan," Faolan said casually. He put down the cup and half-lay down on the bed, leaning on his elbow. "You still owe me. For what you did in Khanbaliq."