A week
later, Meg met Tally by chance, when she was driving the cattle back
to the village, and he was coming home.
"Oh look at that," said Meg. "I stumbled over a
little man."
"Not as painful as last time," said Tally. "And
it's good to be back again. That last court I went to – oh, the
things they did to their servants! I did what I should not have done,
and I composed a nasty ballad about that court, there on the spot."
"Should you not have?"
"The beams of that hall shall rot in the coming years,"
said Tally, "as rain pounds in through the ragged roof. There
will be no fire on the hearth, nor songs to cheer the heart, for none
shall remain in that place. Are the people of that place now free of
an insidious tyrant, or unprotected from the whims of other kings?
Perhaps both. A ballad is not a power to be misused. Talking of which
– "
"I'm sorry," said Meg.
"For what?" Tally's expression looked like he knew
exactly what.
Meg sighed. "For following Deirdre in charging forward on
this whole writing business like a galloping horse, despite your
warnings. I still worry that we're going to get you in trouble no
matter what we do. So…why do you keep coming back?"
"I've been thinking about the matter," said Tally. "I've
been thinking, you know, I specifically asked you to be worth singing
about. That was the bargain. Right? My help, as long as you were
never boring. I realized I get an itch to play for royal courts
whenever it gets boring around you and Deirdre."
"Even with Fia for a daughter?"
"Even Fia has days where nothing different happens."
"And you're objecting to this writing business but not
stopping us because…"
"I have to make it obvious that I'm not involved. Cover your
behind, that is to say."
"You live in our house! You adopted Fia!"
"One can only control these pesky children so much, right?"
Tally winked. "And if I want to play the antagonist, I have to
live near you in order to object at dramatically appropriate moments.
Right?"
Meg grunted. "I'm beginning to wonder if your threat of
taking Fia away was serious."
"Quite," said Tally.
"Did you ask her if she wanted to go?"
"I didn't. She's a child, right? No matter how much she runs
around and plays in the woods, she doesn't know everything she needs.
I worry greatly that if she saw the Lord of the Underworld going
after you or Deirdre, she would run right towards him and get his
attention. And then she would be dragged to the underworld, and…I
would lose the only child I ever had."
"That is a distinct possibility."
"And I almost lost her once already. In the year you were
missing. She got too close to a pond, and Jenny Greenteeth snatched her.
If she knew how to swim she might have escaped, but she'd never
learned, because she only ever runs across the water. So I had to jump in and whack that Jenny with my best lyre. And then I spent a
good part of that year giving Fia swimming lessons instead of
entertaining the courts like I expected."
"Deirdre would be proud of you."
"Oh, I know."
"As for me, I’m not proud that you wouldn’t ask Fia about
her coming along."
"I just told you –"
"At the age of three, you would be correct. But she’s
getting older, and already getting away from all of us. She’s got
her own life to lead, and I know it won’t be here in this village.
It’s too small for her. The whole island might be too small for
her."
"That’s true."
"And I know you like having someone to sing about. So, tell
you what. You want to be her parent? Then follow her and guide her
with your wisdom. Chronicle her, if you can’t do it for me any
longer. If you both must flee, then fly where she flies. Her call,
not yours. If you want to keep chronicling me, then that promise is
my price. Otherwise I would tell you to be gone, without Fia. Is that
a deal?"
"I –"
There was some manner of commotion at the village walls. The gates
were closed. Bleiz and Bébinn and Conall and Deirdre were standing
atop the battlements, javelins and darts in hand. Below them, the tax
man from the week before was standing in a chariot beside Áed, the
Hound.
"Talking of losing children," said Meg. "I think
this is going to be a ruckus."
So they came to the gate, and there Meg could see that while the
tax man looked interested in the situation, Áed looked bored.
She came up behind the two and, looking up to the battlements, she
signed, "is it hard to guess why you have closed the gates to
representatives of the queen?"
"Easy," signed Bleiz. "The Queen harms us in many ways."
"Theft," signed Bébinn. "We can lose none of our grain."
"Kidnapping," signed Conall. "I can lose no more of
my people."
"Domination," signed Deirdre. "Shall we bow to the
one who would take so much from us?"
Meg sighed. "Pay whatever taxes we can afford," she
signed, "and I shall deal with the matter of kidnapping."
Then to the tax man she said aloud, "You will have your taxes as
we can spare them. But it may be that you do not have the young
adults of this village for the queen's armies. We are, after all,
still recovering. Such numbers will take longer to replenish than
calves or lambs."
"Oh sure," said the tax man. "You think keeping
your village together is more important than keeping the kingdom
together."
"Yes?" said Meg. "It's lives in the balance, versus
political borders."
"And yet," said Áed, "you refuse to serve the
queen as you would best. The queen desires twenty of your fighting
fit – "
"That's every young adult in the village!" shouted
Conall.
" – because you, Meg, insist upon your selfish reluctance."
Meg could not bear to meet the eyes of her old enemy.
But then she heard a shrill whistle from the battlements, and she
looked up. There was Deirdre, signing to her, "You are placed in
a terrible position, my dear. You can lose your village or you can
lose your villagers. But I know you. You would give up yourself
before you gave them. And you did wish for adventure again."
"They need me here," signed Meg. "Not there."
"Someday you shall be gone," signed Deirdre. "What
will they do then?"
"Deirdre – can you get down here? I would speak with you
more privately."
So Deirdre descended from the walls, and opened the gate, for as
long as she stood there before it, no warrior could enter. And Meg
stood with her, close enough for comfort, and each of them made their
signs as small as possible, so that few could tell what they said.
"Should I go," signed Meg, "then I might go from
you forever. But I know you. You would follow me to the ends of the
earth. Then the village would lose you, and you would lose your
dream. My adventure would cause the death of your soul. I cannot do
such a thing. I love you too much to do such a thing."
"And I love you too much to force your decision," signed
Deirdre. "But...you can stake it on a wager, again. Tally says you beat the Hound in a contest of strength, and you staked your service to the Queen on such a battle, and won your freedom for the sake of finding me. Do so again, for the sake of keeping me, and all whom you love.
"I will fight for their sakes and yours," signed Meg.
Then she held Deirdre's hands, and they interlaced their fingers, and
pressed their foreheads gently together, and Meg whispered, "If
I lose, if I must go into the queen's service, you must not follow
me. You must follow your dream, even if it means losing me."
Deirdre took her hands back. There were tears in her eyes as she
signed, "Let me never be forced to make that choice."
There was a small whuff of air as Fia appeared at the gate.
"It doesn’t have to be either-or," she signed. "Weren’t
you two going to get married? So you can wear rings on your fingers
and always remember each other even when you’re apart. And if the
Queen says she wants you in her bedchamber you can say ‘no, I am
sworn to my love, before the Gods!’ Or something. You guys are kind
of married already anyway. You just need to have a big feast for it."
Deirdre and Meg both laughed. "Good heavens," signed
Deirdre, "we are getting a little carried away here, aren’t
we?"
"Goodness knows I’d rather be married away," signed
Meg.
"If you win, then," signed Deirdre, a mischievous look
in her eyes.
Meg grinned. "Now there’s an incentive." She turned to
the Hound, and said aloud, "Áed, I will set you this wager. We
will wrestle as we did before, first one to touch a shoulder to the
ground loses – "
"It was first to take a step back loses", said Áed.
"I don't know what's happened to my memory," said Meg.
"First to take a step back loses. If you win, I will serve my
queen as a warrior once more. If I win, you will take from this
village only taxes, not people, and only fair taxes that we can
afford, and I will not serve the queen as a warrior. What say you?"
The tax collector grunted. "This is all getting too dramatic
for my taste. I would be content to take the goods and go."
"And I would not," said Áed, "for I have been set
a challenge, and I can hardly back down. So be it, Meg the Mighty. I
shall fight you for the sake of my queen, whose warriors are ever
hard-pressed in battle. I shall not lose."
Meg spat in her palm, and held it out to Áed. He spat in his
palm, and shook hands with Meg.
All the village turned out to see Mighty Meg fight the Queen's
Hound. They might have gathered in a ring, as they would around any
other wrestling match, but between these two, one whose monstrous
form was often whispered of, and the other who had thrown her
opponent through a wall before, the villagers felt it safer to hang
back.
And so the match began, each fighter striving as much as they
could against each other, each of them barely swaying at all, for
they were, as before, evenly matched. Meg could not force the Hound a
step back, for he was, as he had ever been, the mightiest man in the land. Nor could the Hound force Meg back, for she was, as she had
ever been, the mightiest woman in the world, and she was driven by
her desire to stay by her Deirdre's side.
Yet as they strove against each other, Meg wondered if her desire
was one of a stout heart, or born of cowardice. She could easily save
her people by agreeing to her queen's request. Perhaps she was being
selfish, after all.
And so her will began to falter, and her strength began to wane.
But her feet would not move. She was slowly bent backward, like a
great tree in a wind.
"Tell me," she whispered to Áed. "What is your
name now? Are you Áed, as I knew you? Or are you just the Hound?"
"I am the Hound," said the Hound.
"And did you name yourself?" whispered Meg. "Or did
your queen name you?"
"I am at my queen's command in all things," said the
Hound. "Even in my name."
"It is a pity," whispered Meg. "I thought she was a
good woman, once. But now she plays games of power. Even against
you."
"You will not turn me against my Queen," whispered the Hound.
"You will not break my spirit. I will break yours. And when you
are out on the march, fighting for the Queen, I will visit your
Deirdre, and – "
"That is the line you cannot cross," whispered Meg.
"I can cross any line I like," whispered the Hound, "for
I can slay anyone I wish."
"I said it is a line you cannot cross," whispered Meg.
"I know Deirdre. I knew her. If you honestly think she would
acquiesce to dallying with you while I remain alive, you are a fool.
If you think you can take her, you are suicidal. I remember when she
– " But Meg fell silent, for she realized that she did, in
fact, remember a time long ago, when a man of far lesser stature than
the Hound had tried to have his way with Deirdre. She remembered what
had happened to the man. She did not wish to remember. But there it
was.
And then Meg realized that she remembered the finer tricks of how
to wrestle, for Deirdre had taught them to her, over many years.
"I shall come to her after you die," whispered the
Hound. "She will embrace me when you are out of the way."
Suddenly Meg swayed upright, like a tree released from a mighty
wind. "Fool. You know so little of her."
"And you remember so little," said the Hound, as he was
slowly bent backwards. "Would you like me to tell you what
sounds she makes when – "
"There's the line I will not let you cross," said Meg.
And then she released the Hound's hands, grabbed him about the waist,
and tossed him skyward, sailing high into the air over the village
and beyond. The force of this throw propelled her backward, and she
fell onto the grass.
But her feet stayed planted.
So all the village cheered, and swarmed around Meg, and lifted her
upon their shoulders. They carried her to the gate, and put her down
in front of Deirdre, so that the two could walk, hand in hand, back
into the village. As for the Hound, none cared where he had fallen;
as for the tax collector, few people remembered he was there. They
only had eyes for their beloved Meg and Deirdre. As for those two,
they would not return to their home without embracing everyone whom
they thought they might lose, which was everyone. So it was that Meg
and Deirdre had arms for everyone, in turn –
And with that done, there was one more thing yet to do. And that
was for Deirdre to take Meg’s right hand and raise it to her
shoulder level, and then draw it over her heart, in the old, old sign
that this was her beloved intended. Which raised a mighty cheer from
all – as well as a few words from a little man at the front of the
crowd, who was holding a small harp. "Ha," said Tally. "I
wondered what took you so long."
…
The wedding of Deirdre and Meg was the most joyous occasion the
village had put on in a long time, and the largest and loudest, for
many came from the villages around to congratulate the woman who had
twice faced the will of the Queen and won. There was food in great
abundance, and singing and dancing, which was Deirdre's delight, and
she dominated the latter, matched only in skill by Meg and only in
exuberance by Fia. There were many from the villages around who thought, indeed, that the woman of golden hair and golden eyes and snow-white skin must have been some manner of fairy, so wildly did she dance, so strange did she look -- they shook Meg's hand and congratulated her for landing a rare prize indeed. Meg had to agree, though not in the way they were thinking.
And there was the ceremony, conducted by Tally. When all were
gathered, and the cheers finally died down, Meg and Deirdre each
pledged their life and love to each other – in sign language, which the residents of the villages understood, and the guests did not. There
was a murmur through the crowd as people translated for their
neighbors.
And then there was the kiss, which, for all that the two of them
had been eager to reach this moment, was gentle and slow, a perfect
First Kiss for Meg –
And then she realized that it wasn’t the first. The first had
been on the battlefield, years and years ago, and that one had been
fierce, desperate and wild, heedless of everything around – until
someone had to shake their shoulders to get them to open their eyes
and look around at the two sides of the battle that had frozen in
shock, utterly dumbfounded to see the two tossing aside all of their
loyalties to their respective sides, especially in such a way.
Nor indeed was it the first one that had been so gentle and so
slow – that one had come late in the evening, after the two had
finally managed to shake off their furious pursuers by hiding in a
sea cave. The stars had seemed especially bright that night.
It was hardly the most dangerous kiss Meg had ever experienced.
That one was in the battle with the Water Giant, when the two had
kissed specifically to taunt the big lug into coming closer into the
tidal trap. He had almost managed to grab Deirdre before the trap
drew him back into the great whirlpool – a terrifying moment, the
first moment that Meg had thought of what it would mean to lose
Deirdre, and how she could hardly picture a life without her.
Shortly after that battle had been the most desperate kiss, the most
possessive.
And there had been many kisses since then. But this one was the
best of all, because it meant there would be many more to come.
Meg’s eyes flew open. She pulled back, leaving Deirdre to look
confused and a little hurt. That is until Meg signed, "I think I
have a very good idea of how to restore the rest of my memories."
Deirdre grinned. She turned to the crowd, and signed, "My
beloved comes back to herself, as she comes back to me. Thus I swear
before the Gods that I am hers, as she is mine."
Everyone in the crowd cheered, loud enough to shake the leaves in
the trees, and even the very earth seemed to tremble as Meg and
Deirdre kissed once more.