[COMPLETED] The Vixen and The Thief

Chapter 6

Beibhnn caught her breath sharply, searching the shadows for the grey clad figure, but she was not to be seen. And with her was gone her last link, strange as it was, with home. Her last protection. Suddenly Beibhinn felt more vulnerable than ever in all her life. Alone on the mountain, surrounded by the fianna who spoke not. There was nobody who knew her whereabouts. No-one to know if she vanished.

The other ponies pressed about her own, blocking any hope of flight. But she would have to try, should they turn on her, to yank Fanlóg free and rush him down the mountain. A hope too slim to try without gravest reason and commotion.

They rode up further up the mountain, beyond the tree line onto heathery moors, disturbing snipe that slept amid the wiry grass. Their outraged shrieks the same as those on her own hills. And as they rode Beibhinn's tangled wishes were of home, though the pain in her wrists banished any hope that this was but an evil dream.

The moon fell behind the mountain's shoulders leaving the world to a darkness yet thicker. In the blackness came the sound of rushing water and they began to descend. Right down slithering and slipping until the horses walked through water dancing invisible about their feet. Beibhinn lifted her head for one more view of the stars and saw the deep blue of night sky replaced by blackness like the swift sweep of a curtain. A hollow echo responded to each pony's tread and as a hardness brushed her head Beibhinn ducked low, suddenly understanding: they were riding into the mountain itself, deep into the very rocks of its heart.

An Beitheach's lair! She realised abruptly, a sudden shiver of horror coursing down her back.

Small wonder that we have never found it, if he dwells within the mountain.

But what use could it be to An Beitheach to bring her there, if it were that he already held Ruadhán? To hold them both together as hostages?

Strangely, the thought cheered her. With Ruadhán she would not be alone. And let An Beitheach try to hold two children of an clann Ó Bhriain. He would find himself to have captured two birds too strong for his net. 

Yes, the grand schemes crowded her mind, brightening it all the time, 

We will escape, both of us, and  An Beitheach will curse his own pride.

The roof of the tunnel came down lower as they ascended until even the ponies ducked their heads. Beibhin felt the rough roof banging her back, bent almost to Fanlóg's chest though she was. The air above the stream was filled with damp, chill with the freezing weight of rocks above it.

We are riding into a tomb. Ruadhán is dead.

Why would he not be? He is too dangerous to keep alive, even as a war slave. And I am to replace him. That is what it is. A new hostage to hold against Athair.

Beibhinn's hands tightened on the reins, a fearful hatred settling on her heart, too strong to admit even fear for herself.

Very well, let An Beiheach plan. He will find in me the ruination of his schemes. For, proud master of the mountain, I am neither unable nor unwilling to fight. And I have behind me forces greater than your mean power could ever comprehend.

Athair would be proud of such a resolution, she thought. For him, I will abide with it no matter what shall come.

In the darkness of the tunnel, Beibhinn smiled. A hard, grim, resolute sort of smile.

****

Yellow light showed suddenly in the tunnel, flickering on the rocks ahead, and for a moment Beibhinn thought that they were coming out into morning. The welling relief was short lived, for it was but a torch fastened to a bracket on the tunnel wall. Another moment and they had passed its sputtering glow, moving once more into darkness.