Holder of Lightning

"I don't want this," Jenna insisted. "I never did."

"Want it or not, it's been given to you. Come, the Banrion's anxious to see you."

The Ri's tent was set near the river, its bright panoply of banners seem-ing to mock the weariness, loss, and pain around it. The gardai stood back as Jenna and MacEagan approached, and she heard a moan emerge from the flap held aside for them.

Inside, in the warm light of candles, was a bed holding the Ri, the Banrion sitting in a chair alongside. Jenna could smell the strong aroma of anduilleaf. She cradled her cold right arm to her waist.

"Any change with him?" MacEagan asked as they entered, and Aithne shook her head in answer.

"None. The healer says that it's a matter of time, that's all." Aithne chuckled, mirthless and short.

"It's strange. I had no respect for the man until now. From what I was told, he fought like a man possessed, scream-ing the caointeoireacht na cogadh and rallying everyone after Kianna fell-'There was a pile of bodies at his feet,' one of his gardai told me, 'so high that the Ri could not even step over them. He wouldn't leave until we had Bantiarna Ciomhsog's body, and even then he stayed at the rear protecting the wounded as we fled.' He was a poor husband and a weak ruler. But he found his strength in the end. I wish I'd seen it." She sighed, reaching over to brush away a strand of white hair curling over the Ri's forehead. Her eyes

found Jenna’s. "I’m glad to see you walking and somewhat recov-ered, Holder. We’ll need you now, more than ever."

Jenna must have shown confusion at that, as Aithne stood and came over to her in a rustle of her cloca. "We lost this battle," she said to Jenna, "but it cost them far more than they anticipated. They thought they would crush us completely with one, swift blow and never have to wage a cam-paign. They thought they had enough Clochs Mor to guarantee the fall of Lamh Shabhala, and enough troops to smash all resistance. They were wrong and they know that now. I suspect the RI Ard isn’t altogether pleased with his son’s generalship."

"Nevan O Liathain planned this?" She could well believe it-the glory of leading the combined forces of the Tuatha would have attracted the man as a guttering candle calls to a moth.

"Aye," Aithne replied, "that’s what we’ve been told, but his victory’s cold. None of our cloch Holders are dead and we’ve recovered another of the Clochs Mor. Eight of their Mages died-before you fell unconscious, you told us that-so seven of their clochs either have new, inexperienced Mages or were lost entirely in the harbor. They lost nine ships to the catapults and Stormbringer, and during the hand-to-hand fighting we de-stroyed at least a third of their forces. Winning the battle cost them so much that they couldn’t follow us, but were forced to wait for reinforce-ments."

Jenna heard little of the end of it. Talking of the battle brought back snatches of memory: Aron’s face, screaming in agony and frustration and anger as she killed him. . "Banrion, your brother… He was with them."

Her lips tightened and lines folded around her eyes. "I know," she said. "You told me that also."

"I’m sorry."

"No, you’re not," she answered. "You had no reason to feel anything but hatred for my brother."

"I’m still sorry for your loss. He was your brother;

I know you cared for him. And if I’d not come here-"Jenna stopped. "If I’d not come here, none of this would have happened. None of it."

The lines deepened in Aithne’s face. Her gaze flicked once toward Mac-Eagan, and she stepped forward, cupping Jenna's face in a hand and lifting her chin. "You came," she answered. "That can't be changed. And my brother made his own choices-you didn't force them on him, nor did you tell the Rl Ard and Tanaise Rig to bring their armies here. You're not responsible for their actions, Jenna, only your own. Do I mourn Aron? Aye, I do. I will miss him, and I'll always remember his strength and his love for our family. But I didn't agree with his last decisions. He knew when he chose to stand with the Rl Ard that his choice might mean my death as Banrion, and still he did so."

She released Jenna's face, going back to the chair by the bed and sitting "Let me tell you one other thing, Jenna, a choice I made. I saw you during the battle. I could feel the clochs set against you, and there was a moment when I could have come to your aid. But I didn't-because Aron was among those fighting you. Instead, I set my eyes elsewhere." Her hands were folded on her lap, her head tilted to one side as she stared at Jenna her gaze unblinking. "I did that knowing that my presence might be the difference between your living or dying, but I told myself that I would let the Mother-Creator decide. So you see, loyalty is a shifting and elusive thing, Holder. But I'm sure you realize that by now. Aron? — aye, I'll mourn him, and I'll remember what was good and try to forget the rest."