Emer's Quest (Manannan Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  Emer’s Quest

  Michèle McGrath

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About Michèle McGrath

  In memory of my beloved grandmother,

  Margaret McCreanney McGrath

  Who loved this island of ours.

  Emer’s Quest

  1

  Emer woke screaming.

  “Emer! Emer!” Her mother’s voice dragged her out of the dark pit into which she had fallen.

  “Oh, Modir, it was so awful... ”

  “Tell me.”

  “Niamh wait. The child is terrified. Let her wake up properly and get warm.” Olaf dropped a cloak around her shoulders and stirred up the embers of the fire. After a while, Emer’s shudders ceased. She sat huddled in the cloak, sipping one of her mother’s hot brews and staring into the darkness of the hut.

  “Now tell us what happened,” Niamh ordered.

  Emer instinctively gripped the green stone that she always wore around her neck and squeezed hard.

  “She came suddenly. A woman, I think, but I found it hard to tell. She called herself the Guide of Souls...”

  Niamh gasped but Olaf laid his hand on hers to silence her. “Continue, Emer.”

  The young girl turned to him, a jerky motion which sent drops of the brew hissing into the fire.

  “Fadir, you mustn’t leave tomorrow.”

  “What’s this? I have to go.”

  “If you do, you won’t return.” Suddenly Emer burst into floods of weeping. Niamh put her arms around her only child and held her tightly until the tears ceased.

  “Could it be true what she says?” Olaf asked his wife.

  “I too have seen the Guide of Souls, as you know,” she replied. “Not for a long time now, but what she told me came true. She showed me both the past and the future. Everything happened just as she said. This gift’s a curse, not a blessing and now Emer seems to have inherited it from me. I was about the same age when my own dreams started.” With an angry gesture, Niamh dashed away the girl’s tears. “Emer, this is important.” She smoothed the tumbled golden locks so she could look into her daughter’s face. “Tell us exactly what you saw.”

  The tear drenched green eyes, so like her own, looked up and stared straight through her. In a strange voice neither of her parents had ever heard her use before, Emer said,

  “I fell through coloured light. She was there, the Guide of Souls. She took my hand and her touch made me freeze. She led me through dark caverns until we came to the sea. Everything was grey and the land was covered in snow. Ice floated on the surface of the water. Fadir’s ship was there. The sail was torn and no one rowed. There was a current drawing it towards the shore. Nobody tried to turn the prow away. I saw the boat smash into rocks near the entrance of a huge cavern lined with tall pillars of stone and break up. Bodies tumbled into the waters and, after a few moments, two of them ceased to struggle and drifted away. Fadir was swimming, holding up the head of a young red haired boy and heading for the mouth of the cave. Then he, too, started to tire.” Emer shuddered.

  “Is that all you saw?” Niamh asked but Emer ignored her and turned to her father, gripping his arm so hard that his flesh reddened.

  “Fadir, you fell into the icy water. If you go on this voyage; you’ll never come back to us.”

  “Emer, I have to go. You know the harvest has been poor and there will be another mouth to feed next winter.” Olaf smiled at his wife, who was once again big with child after many barren years. “Besides I must take the remedies we’ve prepared to the Red Lady. She needs them urgently. There are many sick in the north.”

  “But not tomorrow! If you go tomorrow, you will die.” Emer burst into tears again and did not notice the look that passed between her parents. Then Olaf’s arms closed around her, rocking her gently and making soothing noises. Her mother hauled herself awkwardly to her feet and rummaged in one of the baskets piled against the wall. She sprinkled some grains of powder into a cup of hot water and handed it to her daughter.

  “Drink this now,” Niamh said. “All things look different in the light and we can talk again in the morning.”

  Emer thought that she would not be able to sleep, but she had hardly lain down again when she drifted off. Next morning she realised the brew her mother had given her must have made her do so. As her eyes opened, sunlight was streaming through the hut doorway and everything was strangely silent. Emer lay still for a few moments, aware of some menace hanging over her, but unable to remember what it was. Then, in a sudden panic, she leaped from her bed and ran out into the clearing.

  “Modir, where’s Fadir?” she screamed.

  “He’s gone, child.” Niamh stood up slowly and walked towards her, arms outstretched to give her a hug, but Emer backed away.

  “Why didn’t you stop him?”

  “You know what your father’s like when he’s made up his mind about something. I might have been talking to the trees for all the response I got.”

  “Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe I can still catch up with him!” Emer wheeled round and would have run down towards the beach but Niamh stopped her.

  “He’s long gone. He left before first light. Only a sea-creature would be able to reach him now.”

  “Modir — why didn’t he believe me? Oh why didn’t either of you believe me?”

  Niamh grimaced and a spasm of pain ran over her face as she felt the baby twist within her. She staggered over to the log they used as a bench and sat down heavily.

  “Your father isn’t a great believer in things he can’t touch. My fault I expect. I took him to my father and Athair told him that most magic is simply knowledge of plants and soils with a few clever words.”

  “But you know better!” Emer stared at her mother with blazing eyes. “You’ve had such dreams yourself and they came true! You told us so.”

  “I did,” Niamh said slowly, “but they ceased after you were born and that is fifteen summers gone. Memories dim. Perhaps I don’t need my dreams or the knowledge of the future any longer.”

  “Until now. You need them now!” Emer shouted, in a frenzy of fear.

  Niamh’s eyes grew tearful. “I did try to stop your father, please believe me, but he said that you’d never dreamed before and it was only a nightmare. He’s never known me to have such a dream, only heard me tell of them. He thinks I’m making more of what happened than the reality. He’s scared we won’t have enough food this winter. That’s why he’s been out fishing whenever the weather has been favourable.”

  “But there’s a storm coming! No one goes out to sea in a storm!”

  “What storm?” Niamh’s eyes searched the clear blue sky. The sun shone and the world was peaceful.

  “Can’t you feel it in the air? My skin is prickling all over.”

  “No I can’t. When is it coming?”

  “Soon. Today or tomorrow.”

  “Unless a storm comes in the next few hours, your father will be safe enough. Remember, he’s going first to the Red Lady, to bring her some of the medicines I’ve made for her. He’ll moor the ship in the river’s mouth and that
is well protected.”

  “Modir, I know you believe that and I don’t want to cause you grief, but I saw what I saw. He’ll leave there and be at sea when the storm hits unless I can stop him.”

  Emer turned on her heel and ran towards their two horses which were grazing peacefully under the trees. With a great leap she threw herself up on the smaller one’s back and grasped her headstall.

  “Emer, where are you going?” Niamh screamed.

  “To the Red Lady’s to stop Fadir. I’ll tell Mappy to come and be with you.” Emer kicked her legs into Vif’s sides and rode away, unheeding of the words Niamh shouted after her. They burst through the bushes and cantered down the valley.

  Emer slowed down when she came to Mappy’s hut. The woman was hanging her washing over some bushes to dry.

  “Mappy, can you go to Modir, please?” Emer cried to her.

  The woman looked up startled. “Is the baby coming? Where’re you off to?”

  “After Fadir.” Emer did not stay for more. Let their neighbour think that she was going to fetch her father because the baby was coming. She’d find out the truth soon enough.

  The rest of the day, Emer urged Vif to go as fast as she could, hardly stopping, except to allow her to drink from the streams. She skirted the hills in an arc, always heading towards the north east, taking the mountains for her guide. Vif was fresh when she started off and a powerful horse, but even she began to tire long before Emer reached her destination. Eventually Emer had to slip from her back and stride forward. The faithful Vif followed her but she was breathing hard and Emer knew she dare not ride again lest she kill the animal in her need for haste.

  As she came to the top of a small rise, she became aware of the coldness of the wind, which was becoming stronger with every moment. She glanced up into the sky. Storm clouds tumbled overhead, black and swirling with menace.

  “It’s coming. I’m going to be too late!” she screamed, but the gale carried her words away. Blindly she ran forward, not heeding where she was going, so it was no wonder that she tripped and fell over a bramble. She fell full length on the grass and all the air was knocked out of her lungs. She lay there, trying to catch her breath, when a soft muzzle nudged at her head and Vif blew warm air into her face. She hugged the horse and started to cry with frustration and fear.

  “Oh what am I to do?” she murmured through her tears.

  Then the thunder cracked and Emer was appalled when a bolt of lightening struck a tree on her left with a sizzle. A branch crashed down and Vif reared in fright. With a whinny, the horse took to her heels and galloped away.

  The wind howled and hailstones rattled through the branches, whitening the ground all round her. They fell on her head and shoulders, beating on her unprotected body until she fell on her hands and knees. It seemed forever before the lightening ceased. Several more trees had been hit and torn leaves carpeted the path. Emer curled herself into a small ball, hoping that the lightning would not strike. A long time passed and then the fury finally passed over. The world was so dark that she could no longer see the loom of the mountains. She had no idea which way she was facing when she eventually climbed to her feet. She tried to walk forward, holding her arms in front of her, but almost immediately she walked into a tree. She was stiff and sore and the ground was slippery with the hailstones.

  “I’ll never get there like this,” Emer sobbed, shivering and wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. In her haste, she had never thought to bring a cloak or shoes and her feet had grown numb. She hobbled on, buffeted by the strong wind that held the sting of winter. After a while, she dropped to the ground again and curled herself under the shelter of a bush. If she continued, she would likely die from the cold. All she could do now was try to keep herself warm and wait until morning.

  The night had never seemed so long, for Emer was afraid to let herself sleep. She had heard tales of those who did and never woke again. She rubbed her hands and feet. She moved her arms and legs. She wriggled, shifting her position. She kept her eyes from closing by slapping herself across the face, whenever her eyelids drooped. Eventually she saw a glimmer of light on the horizon. Dawn was coming, bringing her into a grey world full of devastation. Many of the trees at the edges of the wood had fallen, their huge branches lying on the ground. Hail lay in drifts inside all the hollows. The wind still blew, icy and strong, stinging her face.

  Emer started to crawl forwards, because she could no longer walk. She clambered over the fallen trunks and branches with difficulty, each one seeming like a small mountain to her. It took her hours to get out of the wood and into the meadows. The light was fading again now and Emer realised that evening was coming. The late autumn day was ending. Another night in the open with no shelter would certainly kill her, but there was little she could do to prevent it. The struggle became too much for her. Her movements grew slower and slower and eventually ceased.

  The next thing she felt was a severe jolting, which hurt her so much she cried out. The movement stopped abruptly.

  “So you’re awake are you?” a gruff voice said. Emer forced her eyelids apart and stared into a bearded face with bright blue eyes. “What are you doing out in a storm — trying to kill yourself?” Emer tried to answer him but she could not. The struggle to speak was too much and she fell down into darkness again.

  When Emer opened her eyes, she was lying on straw beside a sizzling fire. The place smelled dank and unpleasant but she was warm again, even her feet. She lay still, luxuriating in the heat. Somehow she had never expected to be hot ever again. Then a hand slipped beneath her head, raising her, and something was stuffed behind her back. An old woman stood in front of her, holding out a cup.

  “Can you hold this to drink?” she asked.

  “I’ll try.” Emer took the cup and sipped carefully, her nose wrinkling at the bitter taste. It was steaming and she could feel it spreading warmth all through her body.

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re at the foot of Sniaull Mountain, not far from the Awin Vooar.”

  “Then I’m nearly there! Please I must go!” Emer shot upright but the old woman pushed her back.

  “You can’t go anywhere in the state you’re in. You’re as weak as a kitten.” She stood back. “Try and see if you can walk. I’ll wager you won’t be able to.”

  Emer put her feet on the ground and struggled to rise. The old woman was right; her legs would not hold her. She dropped back and burst into tears.

  “I’m too late!”

  “Too late for what?” It was the bearded man who had spoken to her before. She stared at him. He was real then, not a dream.

  “To stop my father setting sail into the storm.”

  The old man frowned. “If he’s done that, he’s a fool”

  “No. He would have gone out before the storm came up.”

  “Well if he did, he’ll be lucky to survive. It’s years since we had a storm as bad as this one. The wind’s got up again. There was a lull just after dawn. That’s when I found you. I saw the horse and thought her rider wouldn’t be far away. Throw you, did she?”

  “No, but that’s not important. Is she safe?”

  “She’s fine except for some cuts and feeling very cold. I’ve rubbed her down and fed her so she’s better than she was.”

  “Can she carry me?”

  “For a way but not far. Where do you want to go?”

  “To the Red Lady’s. Do you know her?”

  “Everybody round here knows her. She cured Falga, my old woman, last winter with one of her potions. Come morning, I’ll bring you to her if you want.”

  “If Vif can travel, I’d rather leave now.”

  “Well I wouldn’t. The night’s so black an owl couldn’t find its way, let alone a man. Nothing to be done tonight, take my word for it.” And with that, Emer had to be content.

  2

  When morning came, the world was white not black. Snow whipped past the door of the hut, driven by the fury of the wind. I
t was impossible to see anything at all, not even the trees around the clearing. This time Emer did not argue when Comgan, the old man who had rescued her, said,

  “You’ll have to bide your time, lass. Neither of us would survive in this blizzard, nor would your horse. Help me get her in here, or you’ll lose her in this cold.”

  So Emer wrapped herself up and went out into the storm. Comgan walked in front, giving her some protection behind his back. Her feet sank into the snow and in no time both of them became plastered with clinging whiteness. Vif was in the pen Comgan used for his animals. The horse stood shivering by the shelter of a lean-to which was being torn apart by the wind. Between them they managed to drag Vif inside the old man’s hut and tie her to one of the poles supporting the roof. Then Comgan rubbed her down again and told Emer to throw some old coverings over her back.

  “She’ll have to stay in here with us until this storm lets up. At least we’ve wood for a fire to keep us alive and to melt snow to drink, since we can’t get to the river.”

  “But I’m an extra mouth to feed and what about your other animals?”

  “That’s one of them there in the pot. I’ve a few sheep and a couple of calves in a cave up the mountain. I’ve left them some fodder so they should survive but, if they don’t, we’ll eat them. One thing about snow, it preserves dead bodies. I’ll take you to the Red Lady and then go and see what’s happened to them. Nothing more I can do for now. We’ve enough here to manage until the weather turns. Don’t fret.”

  That day passed and the next. It was fully three days before the wind dropped and they looked out on a world of whiteness. Everything was very still and the sky had an icy blueness, although it was weeks before the festival of Sauin, when winter truly begins. Using a stick, Comgran made his way outside, testing the ground at every step.

  “It’s deep in parts but not everywhere,” he said when he returned to the hut.

  “Can we make it to the Red Lady’s do you think?” Emer asked.