He drew himself up, his hand resting on his sword hilt. No man there dared challenge Goll or the Fian power. All moved back from Finn, sheathing their blades.
"Good," Goll declared. "Now, let us hear him out."
Surprised by this support from such a source, Finn put his own sword away, his comrades following his lead.
"I thank you," he said. "For I am no outlaw. The men I killed I killed fairly, and only to save myself. My true name is not Finn. I am Demna, son of Cumhal MacTredhom."
This announcement created an even greater uproar within the hall.
"He lies!" shouted Tadg. "He cannot be. None of the family of MacTredhorn has survived."
"You know that it is true," Finn replied, "as does Goll MacMoma and the high king himselfl"
Conn blanched at this accusation. Could the boy know the truth? Could this son of Cumhal who had appeared like some spirit from the dead expose him here, reveal his treachery to the assembled power of all Ireland? He cast a look of dismay at the high druid who had failed him.
"The high king knows nothing of you," Tadg was responding. "You have no proof of your identity."
"I am his proof," came the soft but clear, firm voice of a woman.
All eyes went to one of the compartments where sat an assemblage of noble famihes. A woman had arisen there. She now shrugged back the hood of her cloak, revealing her head to the company. Her hair was a shining flood of light about her slender shoulders.
"I know that this warrior is the son of Cumhal MacTredhom, for I bore him, and I was MacTredhorn's wife!"
Chapter Thirty
THE SON OF CCIMHAL
"Muirne!" said Tadg. The shock was Hke a blow to him this time. He dropped back heavily into his seat.
"There are many here who must remember me," she said, looking around the room. Then she directed a chill look at the high druid. "And Tm certain that my own father will not deny me."
"I thought that you were dead," he managed to get out in a choked voice.
"I remained hidden so that my son might be safe. This man, who is my husband now, protected me."
Mogh Nuadat rose beside her, slipping an arm about her shoulders.
"This is an outrage!" spluttered the king of Mun-ster province. "The man is infamous! He constantly challenges my leadership and even defies your own authority, my high king. His coming here is unbelievable impudence!"
"I know that as well as you," the dismayed Conn growled back in finstration. "But the peace protects him too."
"I thank you for your graciousness. High King," the cocky Httle chieftain said, smiling mockingly. "I am most happy to be here."
While this exchange was going on, an astonished Finn bent down to speak to his companions.
"How is it my mother came to be here?"
"That's my doing," Caoilte admitted. "I did return to Corca Dhuibhne as I said I would. I told your
mother what you planned to do, and she was determined to come/*
"Why didn't you tell me?" Finn demanded.
"I thought you might not approve," his friend answered simply.
Finn straightened and looked toward his mother across the crowd. She met his eyes, and he felt the warmth of their contact filling him. Then her attention turned back to the men upon the dais.
"There was no longer a reason for my hiding," she told them. "My son is here, and I have come to support him in his claim. After his birth, I had him hidden in the glens of Slieve Bladhma. And should any doubt the truth of that, I have brought others to testify. They are servants of my husband's house. The ones who raised my son."
She gestured to one side. Two other figures rose at the table, and Finn felt yet another thrill of surprise as he recognized Bodhmall and Liath.
Bodhmall drew herself up proudly, sending her hard, fearless gaze toward the high king. Liath eyed them timidly, then turned to Finn with a great smile of joy.
The presence of these three fired the young warrior's spirit with a new assurance. He faced the men on the dais boldly.
"Do you still question my identity?" he demanded.
The high Idng was much discomfited. This audacious lad had put him in a difficult spot, and he was acutely aware of the hundreds of expectant gazes upon him. They were watching for some fatal error, he was sure. They were waiting, like wolves around a cattle herd, for him to show some sign of frailty.
"We have no doubts of your being Cumhal's son,'* he answered carefully.
"Then I claim my father's place as chieftain of the Clan na Baiscne, " Finn announced.
Now it was Goll MacMoma who moved forward to reply.
"Wait now, young warrior. We may accept that you are MacCumhal, but that does not mean you can
claim a chieftain's place. You must have a clan to lead, and there can be none of your own left."
"As you would know better than any, son of Moma," Finn shot back. "But you are wrong." He turned to those in the crowd behind him. "Men of Baiscne, make yourselves known."
The warriors with Finn pressed forward, joining him, forming around his table as other warriors moved back to give them room. And, as they did, yet other fighting men moved from the crowd in all parts of the room. Other warriors of the clan, come from their scattered hiding places about Ireland, were now declaring themselves courageously. There were many more than Finn had expected. When all had assembled, he was surrounded by over a hundred men.
"Here is your clan, MacMorna," he said with pride. "Its men have chosen to join me, and I demand my right to lead them."
Goll felt some dismay at the size of a clan he had thought forever broken. But he showed no outward sign of it. The face he turned to Conn was stony.
"He has a fair claim, my high king," he admitted flatly. "He may ask to be confirmed as chieftain. But, if he wishes to take his father's place as a Fian leader, he must first prove himself worthy to be accepted as a Fian warrior." He looked searchingly at Finn. "Are you prepared to undergo the trial for membership?"
"I am," Finn answered without hesitation.
"Very well," Goll said. "Then tomorrow, at first light, they will begin."
"You took a great risk coming here. Mother," Finn told Muirne in a gently scolding tone.
He and his companions were now in the pavilion of Mogh Nuadat. Following the feast of the first Samhain night, the chieftain had asked them to join him in his own encampment below the fortress hill. He had provided Finn's clansmen with comfortable accommodations amongst his warriors.
Nuadat had certainly denied himself no comforts in
his traveling. The felt-covered structure of interlaced sticks was secure against the fall winds, warmed by a central fire, outfitted with comfortable pallets of luxurious furs on which the guests now lounged.
"When I heard fi-om Caoilte what you were planning, I knew that I had to come," Finn's mother replied. "1 knew that you would have to prove your identity. That's why I stopped at Sheve Bladhma and fetched Bodhmall and Liath as well."
"We were so happy to come," Liath told him. "When you left us, I feared I would never see you again."
"I was as certain that we would," the gaunt woman said with her customary assurance.
Finn turned to Mogh Nuadat. "And why didn't you keep her from coming here? I thought you were determined to keep her safe."
The chieftain grinned. "You know I can deny your mother nothing. And in this, she was right. But it wasn't unprotected she came here. There was little risk."
"I'd say that's true enough, " Caoilte said. "He has nearly his whole company here."
"And they'll be at your service, if it's needed," Nuadat told Finn.
"I thank you, but it will not be. If the time comes when I must challenge MacMorna, it will be only my clansmen against his, as is proper."
"Ah, I'd give a shield arm for another chance at them," Crimall said wistfully, his hand gripping his sword hilt. "It seemed impossible to me that they defeated us before. "
"Well, there'll be no challenging at all until I've passed these tests. Will they be difficult. Uncle?"
"That I'm certain of, though I don't know exactly what they'll be. It's for the Fianna captain to decide. All I can say is that they'll test your abilities as a warrior. But that'll be no trouble for you, lad. Your skills are greater than those of any Fian man I've known. "
"So long as the tests are fair," Cnu Deireoil said.
"What do you mean?" asked Finn. "Do you think Goll MacMorna would try something to make me fail?"
"Goll's always been known as an honest man, even with his enemies," said Crimall. "I don't think he would be playing tricks with the other Fianna chieftains about."
"I think that it's my father the Little Nut is thinking of," said Muime. "He's the greatest danger here. It was a great sorrow to me to learn that he was involved in this. It's made me reahze that it might have been him behind the death of Cumhal as well. He was against my giving myself to a mortal. "
"Every day you become a source of greater wonder to me. Wife," Mogh Nuadat said, smiling at her. "I knew it was a special woman I had married, but not one of the Others!"
"It's not as marvelous beings you should be thinking of us," she said. "We're only people as yourself, endowed vdth some magic by Queen Danu and Man-annan MacLir long ago. And those powers were lost to me when I chose to be an inhabitant of your world. I'm a mortal now, and that is enough. " She put a fair, fine-boned hand upon the chieftain's dark, broad one and he beamed with pleasure.
"Is that true for you as well, Cnu Deireoil?" Finn asked the harper.
He nodded. "It is. Unless we eat of the food MacLir provides and renew ourselves within the magical boundaries that guard the Sidhes, we're no different than you are. It's only my little skill with the music that I managed to bring away to protect me and find me some comfort as I roam."
"But my father still gains his sustenance fi*om the de Danaans," Muirne said, "and he is a druid as well. That makes him very powerful. "
"But would he dare to try anything with all of us watching, any more than Goll would?" asked Coailte.
"With the magical forces available to him," she answered grimly, "there may be many things that he could do unknown."
"I don't know if I want you doing anything more against this son of Cumhal," the high king told Tadg.
It was late in the night that they were meeting in Conn's private quarters, having waited for the rest of the fortress's population to retire so they might safely discuss their problem.
"What do you mean?" said the druid, not understanding the king's sudden reluctance to act.
"It may be that he knows of my involvement in his father's death. If he is angered, he may expose me. "
So that was it, thought Tadg. Conn was more frightened of the Fianna turning upon him for his treachery than he was of Cumhal's son. Such thinking he knew he must alter at once.
"He cannot do anything to you if he is not ahve," Tadg pointed out in his soft, reasoning way.
"That's hardly a comfort, Tadg," the high king stormed. "So far, none of your schemes to destroy him has succeeded. If you try and fail again, he may decide to use his knowledge against me. "
"I cannot believe he has such knowledge," Tadg argued. "And if he does, it only makes it more vital to you that he be destroyed. Think of it, my king. Once he became captain of the Fianna, he would control you. He would be a greater threat than Cumhal. Nothing could stop him from using the Fianna to his own ends."
Conn knew that the high druid was right. He could envision himself living in fear, acquiescing to this upstart MacCumhal's every whim.
"All right, Tadg," he conceded. "But with all the highest authorities in Ireland looking on, how can we act now?"
Tadg smiled. "It is the Fianna leaders who are testing him. It is they who will destroy him. As before, the Morna clan will take the blame."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, my king, that our young warrior will find his trials a bit more difficult than he could ever imagine."
As the dawn sun lifted above the top of the fortress's stockade, its Ught fell upon a scene of great activity. In the center of the yard, two men were digging a small pit under the watchful eyes of GoU MacMorna and his brother Conan. About them a crowd was gathering. The high-ranking ollamhs and druids were coming from their quarters within the dun. The province kings and their retinues were coming to the fortress from the smaller duns maintained as residences for them on the hill nearby. And from their encampments below, the Fian chieftains and their warriors were moving up toward the gates.
All were eager for the coming show. As they gathered within the yard, the air of excitement rose. Like water rising slowly to the boil, the sound increased, from murmuring to a louder burbling of talk. It surged suddenly higher when a new ingredient was added; Finn and his company. They moved in through the gateway and crossed the yard to GoU.
"I am ready," the young warrior announced.
"Good," the Fian captain rephed. "So are we." He turned to the two diggers, who had now reached waist depth. "That's enough."
Conan moved closer to him to speak in confidence.
"They could go deeper," he suggested.
His brother gave him an exasperated glance. "You'd have it up to his chin, I suppose?" he asked scathingly.
"Just trying to help," Conan muttered, stepping back.
As the two diggers chmbed from their pit, GoU turned back toward Finn.
"Son of Cumhal," he announced, "this will be a test of your speed and your dexterity. You will be buried to the waist in this hole. Nine of the best spearmen of the Fianna will cast their weapons at you from the distance of nine furrows. They can throw at you whenever they wish. Their aim is to strike you!"
He paused for a moment at this point, allowing it to register upon the young warrior. Perhaps Finn's realization that the test was a matter of life and death would change his mind.
But the peril made no impression upon Finn. He merely waited politely for the captain to go on.
"There is something else," Goll said. "All you may use to defend yourself is your shield and a staff of hazel wood. Do you understand?"