She started and looked up, her old, care-worn face wet with tears, her expression hopeless.
"It's my only child,' she managed brokenly to say. "All that I had left in the world to me. We were traveling on foot to my clan's home, for we'd only lost my husband these three days past. But brigands attacked us on the road. They took my son off. Carried him into the woods there. Oh me, if I'm ever to see him again!"
Her grief overtook her again at that. Her face dropped back into her hands and she wailed on.
Finn turned at once to his horse and began to unstrap the shield from its saddle.
"What are you doing?" Caoilte asked.
"rm going to try to save this poor woman's son," he said simply.
"Finn, you can't be just rushing after them," Caoilte said in a reasoning way, trying to head oflF another of the young warrior's rash acts. "You don't know how many of them there are or where they went!"
"And I'm getting a scent of something very evil here, " Cnu Deireoil added. "Remember, lad, that the hand of everyone is against us now. There could be great danger."
Finn fitted his arm through the straps of his shield. He pulled his two spears from their lashings and put them across his shoulder. Then he looked up at his comrades, his face set in determined lines.
"I'm going to help," he stated with finality. "Isn't seeing to others part of what makes a warrior, too, Caoilte?"
Caoilte sighed deeply. He cast a glance of resignation at the Little Nut, then climbed down from his horse and began to unstrap his own shield.
Finn grinned. "I knew you'd come."
"What about me?" Cnu Deireoil asked with some apprehension.
"Don't worry," Finn told him. "You can stay here and help this woman. Give her some food. She looks nearly starved. "
"Ah! A very fine idea!" the harper agreed with renewed cheer. "I'm quite good at comforting, that I am!" He jumped down and moved toward her eagerly.
"Play her a tune," Caoilte said sarcastically as he slipped on his shield. "Maybe that will cheer her."
Finn went to her and laid a comforting hand gently on her bony shoulder. "My woman, if there is a way, we'll bring your son back to you. I give my word to you on that!"
This had some effect on her. She stopped her sobbing and looked up at Finn with hope in her tear-filled eyes. "Oh, it's a fine warrior you are to be helping me. If you could save my son, there's nothing I'll not do to repay you."
"You'll owe nothing to us," he told her. "It's only
what we should be doing. Now, where did these men go that took your son?"
She pointed to a faint path into the woods. Finn nodded and marched off boldly, Caoilte close behind. It was clear from the marks on the soft earth and the foliage that someone had passed quite recently.
"Looks as if a large party has gone through here," Caoilte said.
"I count the tracks of only four," Finn said. "One must be the boy, being dragged along."
"Why would they take him, though?" the dark man wondered. "This gives me a strange feeling I don't like."
They moved along the pathway cautiously, weapons ready, peering around and behind them as they moved. Soon they came upon a small clearing. In its center a thin young boy sat alone and trembling upon a fallen tree trunk.
"Boy!" Finn called to him from the clearing's edge.
The child looked toward them. His face was pale. He didn't move or speak. Finn thought of a trapped baby hare, paralyzed with fear.
He started into the clearing.
"Wait!" Caoilte said. "This is more and more wrong."
"iVe got to get the boy," Finn insisted and went on.
Caoilte took a few steps into the clearing and then stopped. His suspicious gaze swept the surrounding trees. His sword and shield were up.
Finn was nearly to the boy when something odd caught his keen eye. The edge of a rope was visible above the collar of the boy's tunic. And another piece showed behind his elbow, running down behind the log. ^^
"Caoilte, he's tethered there," Finn said, coming to a halt.
"Like a lamb to bring the wolf in," the other replied. "It is a trap!"
Even as he spoke, there came a crashing from the woods behind. Two warriors leapt into the clearing and charged upon him.
He whirled, raising sword and shield in defense. Finn turned, too, ready to help him, but swung back when more crashing sounded from the woods beyond the tethered boy.
A giant warrior Finn remembered well came into view, moving upon him swiftly, like a roaring avalanche. Finn had barely time to drop the two weapons and raise his shield in both hands as the huge champion's war ax descended upon him.
The thick iron boss of the leather shield turned the ax, but the shock of the blow shuddered through Finn's arms and sent him staggering back. The ax lifted and came down again. Once more Finn's reflexes saved his life. He ducked away and the ax swooshed past, burying its head deeply in the ground.
Luachra yanked the weapon free, ripping up a great chunk of sod as the gleaming head lifted and swung toward Finn once more. The brief delay, however, had given the young warrior a chance to draw his sword.
The ax came up. Finn's shield lifted to deflect the blow. It did so, but the heavy weapon dented the iron rim deeply this time, and the downward force drove Finn to his knees.
Still, the wiry young man managed to swing a cut up below Luachra's shield. The agile giant pulled back, saving his belly. The blade only touched it, slipping across the surface, drawing a line of blood across the flesh as it sliced his tunic.
This wound only seemed to infuriate Luachra more. He bellowed loudly, jerking up the ax for another blow.
Finn came off^ his knees, bringing his sword up to parry it. His blade did manage to turn the descending head, but this was the last service it did for Finn. The power of the strike snapped it off above the hilt as if it had been a twig, knocking it from Finn's hand with a force that nearly broke his fingers.
Finn gripped his shield in both hands once again and held it up as the ax once more swept up and down. This time the blade of it struck the leather covering within the iron boss. The sharpened edge slashed through
the many stiffened layers and wedged tightly in the shield. The giant yanked back, hoping to pull it away from Finn. He threw the young warrior sideways. Finn*s ann slipped from the thongs and he rolled away, coming to rest halfway across the clearing, head spinning, breath knocked from him, nearly stunned.
Having just dealt a death blow to his second man, Caoilte now pulled his blade from the falling body and turned to see the giant warrior descending upon the downed Finn. With a shrill battle shout to call Luachra's attention from his intended victim, the Firbolg charged in.
He had had experience with this bearlike man before. He told himself he'd not be beaten this time.
He was wrong. As he feinted for an opening, Luachra merely swang his massive shield out again to slam Caoilte's aside, then swept his ax around in a hard, sideways blow meant to take off the dark warrior's head. Caoilte threw himself desperately forward. The blade of the ax missed him, but the heavy handle didn't, slamming hard against his skull, knocking him from his feet. He crumpled to the ground and lay unmoving.
As Finn saw his friend receive this massive blow, a great anger surged through him, giving him new strength. His sword and shield were gone, but his two spears lay on the ground behind the giant. Before Luachra's attention was turned back to him, he was on his feet and running for the weapons. The giant swung at him, but his great speed carried him safely out of the ax's reach. He reached the spears and snatched them up, setting himself to face the huge warrior as he advanced, a moving mountain behind his enormous shield.
Luachra laughed. It was a low, grunting, savage sound.
"You ve no chance against me with those puny spears," he said gloatingly. "You were a dead man when you left your magic little friend behind. I hoped you would do that. I hoped you would give me the chance to finish you. The chase has gone on long enough, Finn MacCumhal. It will end here."
He came on, seemingly unstoppable. Finn scanned him desperately with his hunter's eye, seeking a vulnerable point. He knew he had no chance of penetrating the fist's thickness of leather shield. It had to be like iron. And it left little uncovered save for the top of the head, the arm with the raised ax, and the immense feet.
It seemed far from sporting to Finn, but there wasn't any choice if he meant to survive. He brought a spear up, cocked his arm, and fired.
His aim, as always, was highly accurate. The spear flew to its target, slamming the broad iron head through Luachra's boot and deep into his foot just above the toes.
The giant roared in pain, drawing up the foot and hopping sideways, then crashing down on one knee. The shield dropped down, exposing the head, the tearing eyes, the wide mouth open to howl.
Finn lifted the other spear, took two leaps forward, and hurled the weapon with all his power. The deadly point flew into the gaping mouth, the force of its momentum driving it on through, to crack out the back of the MacMorna champion's broad skull.
Luachra's head jerked back and he shuddered. His eyes flicked up to Finn's with an astonished look before going blank. He toppled like a great tree severed at the base, slowly falling backward, landing with a thud that seemed to shake the woods.
Finn stepped toward him, watching the felled giant carefully. He made no move. His relaxing hand released the handle of his war ax, letting it slide away. He was dead.
The young warrior's attention now went to his friend. He rushed across the clearing to Caoilte, knelt down, and examined him. He was unconscious, but breathing. There was a swelling bruise on his forehead, but Finn could not tefl what damage had been done. Gently he lifted his friend.
"Caoilte," he said. "Caoilte, wake up!"
The warrior moaned. His eyes opened and he looked up, eyes focusing on Finn. Then, to Finn's relief, he smiled ruefully.
"It's my fault, lad," he said. "I knew I should have gotten a new sword for you!"
He sat up, putting fingertips gingerly to his wound, grimacing at the pain.
"What's happened?" came the shocked voice of Cnu Deireoil.
The two men looked about to see the harper moving slowly into the clearing, looking about him at the carnage.
"We survived," Caoilte said dryly. "But only just. What are you doing here?"
"I ... I was fearing for you," he said with some hesitation, looking embarrassed. "I thought I should just come along and see if you needed saving again."
"A bit late," Caoilte told him.
"But very brave of you," Finn quickly added. "It was very close." He cHmbed to his feet and offered to help Caoilte up.
"I'm all right," the warrior said irritably, getting up by himself. "See to the boy."
Finn crossed the clearing to the tethered youth, who had watched the fight in terror.
"Easy, lad," Finn told him. "You're safe now." He untied the rope and pulled the boy to his feet. "Can you find your way back to your mother fi-om here?"
The boy nodded, still speechless with his fear.
"Then go to her. Run as quickly as you can. We'll be close behind."
He sprinted away at once, up the faint pathway out of the woods.
Caoilte picked up his fallen sword and shield. Finn examined his own ruined weapons, then selected the best replacements fi*om those of the two men Caoilte had killed.
While the Little Nut waited, his gaze wandered about the clearing, but it came abruptly to rest when it reached the body of Luachra. He stared, and then he moved closer, his eyes fixed upon a pouch slung across the giant's shoulder on a strap.
With great reluctance, he moved to the enormous
corpse and, after some tugging, pulled the object free. His peculiar actions drew the attention of his companions.
"What are you about?" Finn asked him.
"iVe got a sacred bag," he annouaced, holding it up.
"A sacred bag?" Finn echoed with curiosity, moving closer. "What's that?"
It was certainly a fascinating-looking thing, he thought. It was made of a fine-grained white skin, too soft to be leather. The surface was thickly covered with intricate decorations of gold and silver thread and brighdy colored beads forming curling interlace designs.
"You see those signs?" Cnu Deireoil asked him, pointing to a grouping of spiral shapes. "Those are meant to protect the contents. It's one of the most wonderfiilly crafted bags I've ever seen."
"They're common to the clans," Caoilte supplied, joining them. "Each has a bag to store its clan charms and treasures."
The little man began to untie the thongs that bound it closed.
"What are you doing?" Finn asked.
"I mean to see what's in it," the harper answered, pulling it open. He upended it, pouring out its contents.
All three were astonished at the result of this action. For the mass of objects that tumbled from the bag were several times greater in bulk than it could possibly accommodate.
"There's magic surely in this," Cnu Deireoil said, peering into the bag and then down at the pile.
The items were peculiar ones indeed. There was a cone-shaped helmet ornamented with precious stones and golden filigree. There were skillfully crafted silver shears, an ironsmith's hook, a belt of curiously shining hide, an embroidered linen shirt, and a slender dagger. Mixed in with these things was a thick scattering of small bone pieces and brightly glinting jewels.
"Now, there's a rich treasure bag," Caoilte said, a covetous light appearing in his eyes as he moved in.
Finn shrugged. "It's of no value to me," he said indifferently. "Shouldn't we leave it with its owner?"
Dark warrior and harper exchanged a look of dismay and then moved upon their young friend together.
"Oh, no!" Cnu Deireoil said. "It's much too valuable to be left behind. There's no way of telling what good may be gotten from it."
"He's right, Finn," Caoilte put in supportively. **And if this is a Moma treasure bag, it's yours by right now. It's your trophy for the defeat of this champion."