Night of the Fifth Moon Read Free Page B

It is drenched with their blood.’
    In silence, the fosterlings stared between the trees, trying to imagine the green grass strewn with the bodies of dead and wounded. Above their heads, the dark, brooding shape of the Sacred Yew stretched out branches of evil-smelling needles.
    â€˜And that cairn,’ Faelán pointed, ‘is the burial mound for the Tuatha de Danaan who were killed in the battle. It is heaped with one stone for every de Danaan who died.’ Ket gazed at the huge pile of white stones in the middle of the plain. There were hundreds of them. Thousands of them. ‘But that mound is not only stones.’ Faelán’s voice sank to a whisper. ‘There are skulls there, too – the severed heads of those they conquered . . . and slaughtered.’
    â€˜Eeuugh!’ Riona shuddered.
    Faelán paused a moment before he spoke again. ‘That tomb is an entrance to the Underworld, where all dead heroes live in immortality. The Tuatha de Danaan have not really perished. They are still there, deep inside the tomb. We call them the Shadow Ones.’
    Six pairs of eyes widened.
    â€˜And that monument there . . .’ Faelán gestured to a tall pillar stone standing alone on a hillock, ‘marks the place where the hand of Nuada, King of the Tuatha de Danaan, was struck from his arm by an enemy sword!’
    Ket gulped and wrapped a hand around his own wrist.
    â€˜Who won the battle?’ demanded Lorccán.
    Faelán smiled. ‘The Fir Bolg were mighty fighters, but the Tuatha de Danaan had sages who kept a secret lore, and practised magic arts. They were greater far than all other sages.’
    â€˜The druids!’ breathed Ket.
    â€˜The druids,’ Faelán agreed. ‘By the power of their magic arts, the Tuatha De Danaan gained victory in battle.’
    â€˜What happened to King Nuada?’
    â€˜Credne the Smith fashioned him a new hand out of silver, but now Nuada had a blemish and according to the laws of the Tuatha de Danaan he was no longer fit for kingship.’
    From the corner of his eye, Ket saw Nath-í touch the purple birthmark on his cheek.
    â€˜A new sovereign was chosen,’ said Faelán, ‘Eochu the Beautiful, son of Eriu and Elatha. It was the Tuatha de Danaan who named our land Eriu, for the mother of Eochu. They brought us the laws of kingship. And . . .’ he rose to his feet, ‘the secrets of the druids – those secrets I propose to pass on to you.’
    He scanned their upturned faces.
    â€˜To one of you,’ he corrected. ‘One of you will learn the secret of how to foretell from the stars which is the most auspicious day to travel, or harvest, or . . .’ he broke into a smile, ‘become an anruth. To one of you only will I teach the poetic strains of the harp, cures for the sick, the rules of judgement . . .’
    He broke off.
    â€˜Choose your portions and learn them well,’ he said sternly. ‘Your time of trial begins.’

THE TELLING
    â€˜Here they come!’ The two anruth twins, Art and Bronal, bounced excitedly, identical mops of fair hair flopping up and down.
    Goll and Maura, the two older anruth, turned to watch as the fosterlings filed towards them. Ket held up his branch of bells, grinning proudly, but Nath-í stumbled along scarlet with embarrassment, and plonked himself by the side of the fire, his spindly arms and legs sticking out awkwardly like a bundle of twigs.
    â€˜So.’ Faelán the Druid leaned forward. ‘Let us see what you young ones have managed to learn.’
    â€˜All of it!’ cried Lorccán eagerly. ‘I could tell the whole story on my own!’
    â€˜And perchance next time you shall,’ said the druid. ‘But tonight you are only required to say your part. Now, let us hear the tale of the Battle of Moytura. Who will commence?’
    Nath-í shifted nervously.
    â€˜Ring your bells then,’ said Faelán,