Flint, Kenneth S

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Prophecy, and it will be ended. Manannan will not be able to use you
any longer. We will all be free of it."
"And what about the de Dananns?"
"We will make a peace with them. They will have Eire without our
interference and we will have the seas without their challenging us.
You can become the peacemaker. You are a leader of them. You have their
trust. You could insure peace."
"Wait!" Bres protested. "What about me? You promised Eire to me!"
"Silence, Bres," Balor warned sharply. "You must know that you could
never return to Eire again."
But the former High-King's outburst had drawn Lugh's attention to him.
Now he stared intently at the man, an understanding of what was
happening here coming suddenly clear to him. And with that
understanding, any doubts that Balor had managed to create were swept
away.
"I see," he told the giant. "You want to make another Bres of me. You
want me to keep the de Dananns docile and no threat to you. You still
fear the Prophecy!"
"No!" Balor rumbled. "We fear nothing. We wish only to avoid needless
destruction. We want peace!"
"You talk about peace to me while you've used every kind of treachery
and cruelty you could. You've killed my parents, destroyed my home,
tortured my friends. You would have slaughtered the de Dananns if you'd
had the chance. And now you want me to believe that you meant no harm?
You showed me your Tower, hoping to convince me of your
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MASTER OF THE SIDHE
BALOR'S STORY
163
humanity. You meant to have me feel that there is no good or evil in
this, that I can't make the choice between you. Well you failed. This
Tower is filled with beings of iron and ice, not people. And it's not
my mission as Champion I'll deny, it's the Fomor blood in me." He held
out his arm, fist clenched, veins sharply defined beneath the light
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skin of his tensed forearm. "If I could drain it from my veins, I
would!" He drew himself up, striking a defiant pose, staring into the
glare of that crimson eye. "You're the evil here, and I'll do nothing
to help you. So, if you mean to end my part in the Prophecy, you'd best
destroy me now!"
He expected that he had invited a scorching blast from the eye with his
bold speech. He was surprised and relieved to discover that he was
wrong. For a long time Balor's shuttered gaze rested warmly upon him
while the giant sat silent and motionless, as if in contemplation. When
he finally spoke again, his tones were a flat, low clattering instead
of a thunder of rage.
"It's clear that I need to waste no more time on you," he said. "If you
wish to be a de Danann, then you may join them." The eye moved to the
officer waiting beside Lugh. "Salmhor, see that he is taken to the
cells."
With that, the enormous throne began to roll, turning to cross the
floor and disappear into the hallway leading to Balor's lift. He left
the young warrior and the others staring after him, all taken somewhat
at a loss by his speedy acceptance of Lugh's rejection.
Salmhor recovered first, moving in to grip Lugh's elbow and tug him
away.
"Come along then. You heard the Commander's order. And no difficulties
from you, or it will go hard for you and the others."
Lugh had no choice but to allow the officer to lead him back across the
room and out the doors. Their two guards fell in behind again, weapons
at the ready as they started out toward the atrium.
Bres followed, catching them as they reached the gallery.
"So, boy, you had me dethroned, cast out of Eire as a
halfbreed. And now you know you are no different," he said
scornfully.
"I am different," Lugh said. "I could never act as you have toward the
de Dananns."
"It's the Fomor blood, boy," Bres told him. "It's too strong. You may
fight it, but it will take you too."
"And destroy me, Bres? As it did your own son?"
"What?" said Bres, taken sharply aback. "What do you mean?
"His own mother revealed the truth," Lugh told him bluntly. "He's dead.
Your hatred took his life just as it lost you Eire."
The man was left stricken, staring after Lugh as the voung warrior and
his escort marched on to the lift. As they entered and Lugh turned to
face Bres, he spoke again.
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"I am sorry. But what I've learned has only proven to me that the Fomor
blood doesn't have to control. You've let it happen, Bres. You could
still choose to fight it. Think, man: what has it gained for you?"
Salmhor activated the lift and the silver door slid down, cutting off
Lugh's view of Bres's anguished face.
The beach was now swarming with workers busy upon the scores of ships.
But it was now de Danann and Firbolg craftsmen who worked upon them.
The Fomor were all shut away under heavy guard.
As Nuada moved along the line of larger vessels he noted the progress
with satisfaction. Since dawn they had accomplished much. Now, as the
sun began its final plunge into the western sea, huge bonfires were
being set along the beach so the work might continue on into the night.
In the glow of a sunset that paved a gold-flecked highway of light
across the waves, he watched the men adding a wicker defensive bulwark
to the sides of a wooden barque. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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