"Aaaahhhh!" Angus screamed as he was thrown headfirst into the lake. He came up sputtering, splashing his arms about, searching for something solid, like...
"Rohan!"
Angus' arm wrapped around his best friend's waist, pulling the young warrior up out of the freezing water, whipping him head over heels and back into the pool. Rohan came up laughing, splashing water in Angus' brown eyes.
"Nothing like a nice refreshing swim to perk you right up," said Rohan, climbing out of the lake, pulling his curly hair back and wringing the water out of it. Angus dived back onto dry land as soon as he'd gotten his own black hair wet, shivering as he glared at Rohan.
"I h-h-hate you," he muttered, teeth chattering. Rohan shrugged it off as he pulled on a bluish colored shirt; a gift from Deirdre.
"No you don't," Rohan replied. He wished the weather were warm enough that he could take a good bath, without his pants on; he still swore he smelled too much of horses and leather. He watched Angus shrug into his furry vest; maybe he could convince Deirdre to give his friend a new shirt as well. Maybe something in white...
"Rohan!"
Rohan whipped his head around, studying a bush.
"Aideen?" He said softly, reaching out a hand to pull the fairy out from behind the green. "What are you doing here, done up like a human?"
Aideen glanced down, then at Angus.
"King Conchobar wants you at the castle immediately."
Rohan's eyes grew wide for a moment. "Is there trouble?"
"I don't know. The king has taken to his bed; but Cathbad says he's not sick. I don't know what's wrong."
Rohan nodded.
"Come on, Angus! The king needs us," he said to his friend. "Hurry!"
"What's this, then?" Rohan said, concern written clearly on his face as he studied the grinning druid. "I've never heard of this tradition."
"It only occurs when there is a Protector of Kells. Balin was the last; thanks to you meeting him, and releasing him of Maeve's spell, the title was bestowed on you," Cathbad said. "Now we may once again perform the ritual."
Deirdre studied the old man carefully. "What ritual, Cathbad?"
The druid turned to his favorite chair, motioning the knights to sit upon the benches in his chamber.
"It is said that the Protector of Kells shall sit the throne for one full day; and that the princess, should there be one, must rule at his side during that time."
"Is this required," asked Ivar, glancing at Garrett. "I mean, is it the same as when Conchobar and Fin Varra switched places for a day?"
"No. It is merely a privelege for the Protector."
"Great," said Rohan. "Just what I need. Isn't it enough that I have to be Draganta? Must I be the Protector of Kells as well?"
"It is a great honor, Rohan," Cathbad said sharply. "I haven't raised you to shirk your duties; you will sit the throne of Kells and be crowned king for a day."
Rohan rolled his eyes, and Deirdre smiled.
"Don't worry Rohan," she said softly, laying a hand on his arm, noticing that he wore the shirt she'd given him, and smiling. "I'll be right there by your side the whole time."
Rohan smiled down at the princess, then bowed.
"My queen," he said. She bowed as well.
"My king."
Angus crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head and grinning.
"Great. This is all we need; two turtledoves cooing at each other while Kells is in danger."
Rohan shook a finger at his friend.
"Temra's suffered heavy losses," he said. "I think it's safe to say that until Maeve has her new warriors, she won't be bothering us."
Deirdre looked deep into Rohan's eyes, taking his arm.
"Shall we go for a walk, King Rohan?"
He nodded and smiled, swallowing as he did so.
"Of course; Queen Deirdre."
They left the chamber, arm in arm, while Cathbad and the other knights looked on.
"You know what I think," said Garrett to Angus. The thief shook his head.
"No."
"I think we need girlfriends," Garrett said. Ivar nodded.
"I think you two need to find girlfriends," Angus said, crossing his arms behind his head as he leaned against the wall. "I'll just wait for Bridie to come home."
"Then you won't mind helping us find two women as lovely as the princess," said Ivar, smiling. Angus looked up, then interested.
"Scouting for beautiful girls? I can do that," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Oh-ho-ho, yeah."
"Do you think I'll make a good king, Deirdre?" Rohan asked as they walked through the woods, holding hands as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He bent down to pick a daisy, slipping it behind the princess' ear.
"Yes, Rohan," she replied, smiling. "I do. You have the makings of a king; and the bloodlines." She sighed. "I still can't believe Maeve is your mother."
"Neither can I. But what's done is done. You can't change the past."
Deirdre shook her head. "No, I suppose not."
Rohan turned then, standing in front of Deirdre.
"Princess, I...I think you know how I feel for you. I mean, I haven't exactly done the best job of hiding it from you. But...this gives us an opportunity to talk frankly, about the future. My future as Draganta and yours as the Queen of Kells."
"Rohan; stop there," Deirdre said quickly. "I feel as you do; but now really isn't the time to be getting romantic. We should just...leave things as they are. At least until we know if Bridie's mission succeeded. Then...who knows. Maybe someday..."
"Yeah," Rohan said, moving his face down toward hers as she slowly lifted her own toward his, "someday..."
"Hey! Rohan," Angus' voice was carried to them on a sudden breeze. "Come to the castle, quick!"
Rohan and Deirdre stood side by side. He leaned his face toward her ear to whisper;
"And he interrupted us for this?"
Deirdre smiled wryly as the wreaths of heather were set upon their heads, crowning them king and queen for the day. Conchobar smiled at his daughter from his seat toward the back of the throne-room, and she grinned sheepishly back at him, raising her eyebrows.
"King Rohan, Queen Deirdre," said Commander Uaan, kneeling before Conchobar's throne and the makeshift one that had recently been brought in, "word from the border has it that Torq has returned."
Rohan's mouth dropped open a bit.
"What? Has he brought an army back with him?"
"No, my king. Just himself. He's missing his helmet, and his sword."
Garrett gazed at Rohan.
"The men he was sent to find must have turned the tables on him. What we saw in the temple; it must have happened recently."
Rohan nodded. "Send word to Torq, under a banner of truce, that the King of Kells wishes to speak with him."
Uaan nodded and stood, leaving the room. Rohan turned to Deirdre, raising a finger in his customary gesture of explanation.
"Torq won't know about this tradition," he said softly. "We can use that to our advantage. Your majesty," he said to Conchobar, who had come close to the throne with the knights and Cathbad; "if you will hide yourself away when Torq comes, and let him believe that I am ruler of Kells, alongside Deirdre, he might take word to Maeve that we are weak. I'll have our soldiers hide as well; it will make our number look sorely depleted. When she attempts her final assault on the castle, we can easily defeat her. Then we can kill two birds with one stone."
Conchobar nodded, pleased with the skills Rohan was already showing as a leader.
"Good thinking," he said. "I will go immediately to Commander Uaan; together we can choose those soldiers who are younger and inexperienced to guard the castle; the rest of us will go into hiding until you send for us...my king," he added, bowing low to Rohan, who blushed but smiled nonetheless. Conchobar returned the smile and hurried to find the commander.
Rohan then turned his attention to the knights; his friends.
"As for you, mystic knights; keep your heads low. The last thing we need is for Torq and the Temran dogs to see you before they get to the castle."
Garrett nodded, slapping Angus on the back.
"Right," he said. "We'll stay in your hut, Rohan, and come up behind them once they're within the gates."
Rohan nodded and sat back in his throne, resting easier now that he had matters well in hand.
Deirdre waitied for all the knights and guards to leave but the two who were required, then reached over and took Rohan's hand again. Rohan looked down at their entwined fingers; feeling the butterflies leap into his throat. He really wished he'd had time to kiss her before...now that would have to wait.
The rocking of the wagon on the hard-packed roads kept Bridie awake most of the night. Caesar snored like a wild boar; she could have goten away if he weren't sleeping on the rope. She spent most of the night gazing up at the stars; the same stars that Angus looked at every night before he went to sleep.
She sighed, wishing she could find a way to convince Caesar to spare her life; but she wouldn't beg. The bets thing would be to go along with it. At least she'd gotten her messages to Torq before they'd dragged him away. She hoped Angus would understand what she was doing, how it was for the good of Kells.
Morning dawned too early, and Caesar with it. Roughly he yanked her up with him, making her walk while he drove the chariot.
After awhile, a cave loomed up ahead of them. Caesar pointed to it proudly, his face breaking into an out-and-out grin.
"Hades' Temple," he said, stopping the horses before two great golden statues; statues of a very handsome man in a short tunic, with a shaved head. "Now you'll see how worthy you are to be a gift to the gods!"
He pulled her with him to the closed doors, shoving them open with one hand. He led her to the altar; a gold altar, it's sides still stained by the blood of previous sacrifices. Bridie shuddered, hoping the end came quickly.
Caesar dropped to his knees before the altar, forcing Bridie to kneel with him. He lifted hi arms high above his head, closing his eyes.
"Oh Great Hades; God of the underworld, protector of the dead; I offer this woman to you! A gift from the house of Caesar, to honor you and ask for one thing in exchange for this life!"
The temple filled with smoke; the doors slamming shut of their own accord. The space behind the altar began glowing with an evil looking red light, and in a flash like lightning, similar to the one which had brought Bridie to Rome, there stood the image of the statues made flesh.
Bridie's eyebrows rose as one; this was one good-looking god.
Hades looked her up and down, taking her chin in his hands and turning her head this way and that, getting a really good look. He nodded, releasing her.
"I accept your offering," he said in a deep voice; to deep to be coming out of his throat. It was more of a rumble deep in his chest. "What do you ask in return?"
Caesar touched his head to the floor in front of Hades.
"Only to be the greatest warrior in all of Rome. A simple request from such a great god," he replied. Hades looked to be considering this, then he nodded once, taking Bridie by the arm and lifting her up.
"Done," he said, waving his hand. Caesar stood, no longer afraid of Hades, only a little in awe. "Now go. Leave my temple, boy, and never return."
Caesar nodded and left Bridie alone with Hades. She turned to look into his eyes.
"What now?"
"Now," said Hades with a grin, "you come with me. To the underworld." ***
"And that's the way of it, King Rohan," Torq said. He reached into his pouch, pulling out the letters Bridie had scratched out on pieces of leather from Torq's cloak. He handed them to Rohan, who glanced at each one quickly before glancing back at Torq, who continued. "Bridie wrote those the last night I saw her. She made me swear to give them to you when I returned; and I would never break a promise to her."
Rohan felt something tug at his heart. "Does she know of our mother, Torq? I know you were there; saw you in the vision I had."
Torq closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes, I told her. She knows. Or knew."
Rohan felt tears clinging to his eyelashes. He nodded once, sharply.
"Leave now, Torq. We've no need of you."
"If you don't mind; I'd almost forgotten. Bridie sent her sword and staff with me; she said it was better that they be returned to Kells than to fall into the wrong hands; I assume she meant Caesar. They are safe; hidden behind the stones near the dallben at tir na nOg."
Rohan nodded again, and Torq bowed low, leaving as quickly as his tired legs would allow.
"Deirdre, send Ivar to retrieve the sword and staff; I must inform Angus."
Sadly Deirdre nodded, squeezing Rohan's hand as they parted company.
Aideen hovered for a moment, then flew away, shaking her head.
"Poor Bridie," she said. "I'll tell Fin Varra; he'll be so upset! I don't know what will happen now that the Sorceress of Kells is no more."
Deep within the caves of Kells, a dragon called Pyre let out a cry of grief and rage; a kindred spirit would soon be lost to the empty, soulless wanderings of Death; and his master would be incomplete once again.
