CHAPTER VII
As the travellers proceeded they were morose and thoughtful, and even Ardan’s high spirits flagged. But as they looked on a native sky, and on the fields and hedgerows of an Irish countryside, something of their disquietude was eased and a lightening of the heart became apparent in each of them.
“Dear girl,” said Naoise, and he placed an arm about her shoulders. “We are in Ireland,” he said.
At the word every misery fled from Ardan’s breast, so that he began to look truculently on his brother Ainnle, and even to give him an occasional shoulder as they marched.
Deirdre leaned to her husband.
“I have had other visions,” she said.
She moved her hand languidly towards Fergus’ two sons, who strode a few paces in advance.
“These are our sureties!” she mocked.
“They represent their father,” Naoise affirmed.
“They represent nothing but themselves,” she answered, “and if their father leaves us for a feast, they will leave us for any other prank.”
“It was his geasa,” said Naoise patiently.
“Whatever it was,” said Deirdre.
“We are utterly alone,” she continued. “We have no backing of any kind, and we will arrive in Emain Macha at the absolute mercy of Conachúr.”
She seized her husband’s arm.
“You also are under geasa not to return unless in the company of Fergus. He may be delayed for a week. Let us camp here and wait until he comes up with us.”
“Dear child,” said Naoise, “how can we insult these good youths?”
But Deirdre was in terrible agitation.
“I dread appearing in the presence of Conachúr if Fergus is not by us.”
“His guarantee is with us,” and Naoiseindicated the two young men. “There it is, four legs of it marching stoutly.”
“At least,” she pleaded, “let us go to Cúchulinn’s fortress in Dun Dealgan and wait there until he or Fergus can come with us—if you will do that, I shall complain no more.”
“Fergus,” he replied, “has bound himself before the king that he would send us on without an hour’s delay.”
“And he bound himself to stay with us, but he has broken his word.”
“We must keep his word for him with the king,” said Naoise.
“Another person’s honour is another person’s business. That compact is broken by him, and your geasa is not kept by keeping his. Let us turn to Dun Dealgan and take Cúchulinn’s protection.”
Naoise indicated the two who were marching in front.
“I shall ask their advice, and if they agree to it we will go to Dun Dealgan.”
He called the two, and put the question to them. But they were scandalized.
“You have no confidence in us,” said Buinne.
“And none in our father’s word,” said Iollann.
“This woe has come on us because of your father’s word, and he has left us in our danger for a feast,” she raged.
“The whole world,” said Buinne, “knows Fergus mac Roy, and the worth of his protection.—You know it,” he said to Naoise, “although your queen does not.”
“You are right,” said Naoise. “We may go on without misgiving, my dove.”
And they went on.
On their journey the next day they reached Slieve Fuad. Deirdre strayed behind, and in the movement and conversation her absence was not noticed for a long time. Naoise retraced his path from the White Cairn of the Watching, and came on her sleeping in a grassy hollow. When he awakened her she stared and clutched him, and cried wildly and bitterly.
“What is it?” he asked in alarm.
“I have had a vision,” she sobbed. “I have had a dreadful vision.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw Iollann with no head on him, andI saw Buinne with his head safe on his shoulders.”
Naoise took her in his arms.
“Be glad,” he laughed, “that one of our friends will escape the doom you have planned for us all.”
But she stared at him in distraction.
“No friend of ours will escape,” she moaned.
“But Buinne kept his head on in your dream!”
“The man who had no head had been fighting for us, and the man who had a head was fighting against us,” she whispered.
Naoise was shocked.
“How you have changed, my one treasure,” he said mournfully.
She threw her arms about him.
“Do not speak unkindly to me,” she begged.
“That lovely mouth spoke always lovely things, and now it speaks nothing but evil.”
She closed his lips with her hand.
“No, no,” she said. “Do not say more. Or say only that you love me. You do love me, my husband?”
“Little tender wife!” he smiled. “After all the dangers we have gone through you are frightened at last.”
“Yes,” she breathed, “I am terribly frightened. I die of fear for us all. When I remember Conachúr.... He looked so at me, Naoise! He——! Come with me to Scotland. We will be safe there. We will be happy again. We will hunt in the Woods of Cuan and Glen da Rua. I shall never complain again in this life if you will come with me to Scotland. Let us go away. You and I, and our darlings, Ainnle and Ardan. He is so young to be killed, our brother Ardan. He is but twenty-one years old, and he is gay and loving and fearless. We will be together again; we four: alone and happy. Listen! we will hunt and feast and defend ourselves and fear nothing. You shall win a kingdom there: in sweet Alba of the heathery uplands; but let us fly from Conachúr. You do not know him. Only I and Lavarcham know that terrible king. He is thoughtful. He is bitter and unforgiving, and his memories are rooted deep like the roots of a deep tree.”
But Naoise put her hands away.
“If you must speak badly of others,” he said coldly, “speak to me of foreigners, and not of my own people!”
“Alas, my husband!” said Deirdre. “Alas and alas for all of us!”
She rose wearily.
“Do not be angry with me. Let that last unhappiness be spared me. I am your wife, Naoise. I would prefer that evil should happen to all the world rather than one small misfortune should come to you. I am not Deirdre any more. I am Misery.”
But he kissed and petted her, putting back the hair from her brow and framing her face in his hands.
“We are here now,” he said, “and no matter what awaits us we must go to meet it. You would not wish me to run away, Deirdreen.”
“We ran away before,” she said, “and we have greater reason to run away now than we had then. The spider is waiting for us in the web.”
“You forget, and you will keep on forgetting it, that we are under the protectionof Fergus, and through him we are under the protection of all Ireland.”
But she looked at him almost angrily.
“Fergus,” she scoffed. “He is a traitor, that Fergus. He is being used by the king to betray us.”
Naoise bit his lip and his eyes became hard and sombre.
“Let us go on,” he said. “We should reach Ard Saileach ere the evening.”