The bow that Egil had bought at the Fair had been for me, on Brother Finán’s orders. It was not as fine a weapon as my first bow had been, but it would serve well enough, and in this mist there would be no chance to loose shots at a great distance in any event. I did some little practice with it after the midday meal and then all three of us set off for Laxey.
Brother Finán had also instructed Egil to purchase a horse at the Fair, that we might all ride with no need to share a horse. Egil travelled a little apart from us, that it might not occasion too much gossip, but once we reached Laxey he joined with us for I was not known in that town. Neither was Halfdan known there, and so we travelled on to Hramsá.
There, at last, we found the home of our foe, for Halfdan was well known in Hramsá. We learned that he had come there from England, a dozen years before, and had settled in the town, but that he spent much time away trading and sometimes fighting in the army of King Sweyn. It was rumoured that he had learned sorcery among the Wends, and he had Wendish men in his employ; silent men, who kept themselves to themselves, and who had made no friends among the Manx. Halfdan himself was well enough liked, for he was free with his money, but we met none who claimed close friendship with him. It seemed that he was away; the people of the town told us that his ship had called briefly into the port a few days ago, but had then sailed again on May Day morn, and it had not yet returned.
We followed the directions that the townsfolk gave us and made our way to Halfdan’s house. It stood some little way outside the town, on a hillside, and it was strongly built of stone. Not a fortress, but it would not be an easy place for our small party to storm. “Can we not send to your Order for aid?” I suggested. “If they told Wolf the Quarrelsome that his enemy Brodir walks again, would he not come to wield his axe at our side, to defeat Brodir for a third and final time?”
Brother Finán shook his head. “Now that Brodir is filled with the demonic strength of the dearg-dul he would surely be the victor,” he pointed out. “We would be only granting him what he most desires, for great must be his hatred of the man who ordered him put to the slow death. Indeed, he might well turn Wolf into a dearg-dul also, and we would then have yet another terrible foe.”
“Would their enmity not persist?” Egil asked.
“It would; but a dearg-dul will obey the Sire, the one who drinks his blood and gives him blood in return to cause the change,” Brother Finán informed him. “Wolf would hate Brodir but would do as he commanded, at least until his own power grew.”
“Then that dearg-dul who gave an order to Brodir must be his Sire,” I realised. “His speech was like unto that of Halfdan. He must hail from the Danelaw in England, as does Halfdan, and they are allied out of hatred for Aethelred.”
“No doubt that is the case,” Brother Finán agreed. “If we can slay that dearg-dul it may mean that Halfdan loses his hold over the others, and indeed they may turn on him and destroy him. Yet that in itself poses a danger, for Brodir might at that point realise that he can again become king.” He chewed on his lip as he thought. “Our only course must be to slay them as chance presents itself, regardless of what may transpire later.”
“Is there other aid that your Order could send us, if not Wolf?” I asked him. “A few bowmen, perhaps? Also, I think a coat of mail of my own would not go amiss, and there are none that I know of on Mann that are made to fit a girl; but I have heard of warrior queens of the Irish. Might they have such a garment?”
“Is there none for a youth that might fit you?” asked Brother Finán.
“I can see two reasons why such a coat would not fit Bahey with comfort,” Egil remarked, and I felt myself blushing.
“Enough of such words,” I scolded. “They are not so big that it would be a problem.” I turned my attention back to my Watcher. “I saw none such at the Fair, but I shall watch out for one in the future. Perhaps a leather jerkin sewn with iron rings would serve; it would give me some measure of protection at the least. Yet you have not answered my question. Can your Order send us any further aid?”
“How should they reach us in this mist? No, Bahey, we are cut off, and must manage with what we have. You are the Slayer. That must be enough.”
There was no-one at Halfdan’s house. It stood silent and empty. I could sense no dearg-dul in the vicinity, and we did not linger. We debated staying there to await his return, but knew not how long it might be, and so we decided to return home.
We stayed overnight with the priest at Maughold, and I prayed in the keeil there, for Saint Maughold it was who brought the word of Christ to our island and is the patron saint of Mann. The next day we returned to my home village, and to news dire indeed.
Bahey Bane was dead.
Murdered.
I went to see her as she was laid out, and I was cold and it seemed to me as if I was looking down upon her body from a high place far away, and all the sounds were distant. She was still, and dead, gone forever, and my last words to her had been in anger, and the tears on my cheeks were hot with remorse as well as with grief.
Ealish and Calyvorra had already viewed her, but they returned when they heard that I was back, and we sought comfort in embraces. They assured me that Bahey Bane had forgotten my words as soon as we had parted, and that she had still been my friend, and I prayed that it was the truth. We wept together, but it brought my heart no ease.
Worse was to come. I discovered that she had been slain by a man and a woman who had gone through the village asking after the Bahey who had been at the Fair. She had been with Peddyr, a young man of our acquaintance who had hoped to pay court to her, and the two strangers had walked up to them and stabbed her in the throat with no warning. The man had struck Peddyr a mighty blow and knocked him senseless, and he had not seen what then transpired, but it was no difficult guess that they had then drank her blood and perhaps forced her to drink theirs.
She had been slain by mistake for me, I would lay a wager upon it, and my guilt and grief grew apace.
Hard questions were then asked of Egil, for he too was a stranger who had gone through the town asking for “Bahey” not long before, and I had to reveal that he had been with us in Hramsá and call Brother Finán to bear witness to that effect.
This brought down upon me the wrath of Asmund, for he felt that I was betraying Fynlo, and also the anger of Ealish and Calyvorra for they accused me of lying to them. I would not defend myself, for there was justice in their words, and I only sobbed.
Then did Egil speak up, telling all that I had told him from the start that I was promised to Fynlo and had not permitted him to lay a hand upon me, but that he had resolved not to give up while Fynlo’s fate was undetermined; and he had therefore taken service with my teacher that he might stay in my company. He said that I had given him no encouragement, and had been virtuous in all respects, and should not be blamed for being the unwilling object of his attentions.
There was truth in his words, and it rang clear in his voice, although he was perhaps giving me more credit than I deserved. Ealish and Calyvorra warmed towards me again, and even Asmund could not find it in him to blame me. He warned Egil that he must leave if Fynlo returned, and Egil promised to do so without delay, and that was an end to it for the time.
Bahey Bane was buried that evening. After all the mourners had departed I returned to the graveyard and set two lit rush-lights by her grave. I moved to a tree a few paces away, and sat down against it, and waited. Time passed, perhaps an hour or more, and I sat still as it grew dark save for the flickering glow of the rush-lights. I grew stiff, and cold, but I moved not.
At last they came, two figures walking through the mist, and I felt that sensation in my stomach that I had felt as the dearg-dul had approached me on Tynwald Hill. I stood up, and shook the stiffness from my limbs, and stepped forward.
“Slayer!” the woman hissed. “I knew we had mistaken our victim, for her blood held not the sweetness that we were promised, and she died too easily. Never mind, for we shall now rectify that error.”
“You are right that I shall not die easily,” I told her, and withdrew my sword from under my cloak.
She stepped back in alarm, and her companion drew out a sword of his own. At that moment the earth atop Bahey Bane’s grave began to stir, disturbed by some movement beneath the soil.
I paid it no heed for the time being. I ran forward, sword high, and brought it down upon the male dearg-dul with great force. He brought up his sword and the blades clashed together. My blow was halted; but his sword shattered and the blade fell in shards. The female sought to seize me in the moment when I was still, but I kicked out and hit her in the stomach, and she was knocked from her feet.
My sword slashed across the head of the male, and he cried out in pain, casting aside the useless hilt of his own weapon. He tried to charge in under the sweep of my sword; I caught him with my left hand and tossed him over my hip as Brother Finán had taught me, sending him sprawling, and I chopped down with my blade at the female as she was clambering to her feet. Her head sprang from her shoulders and she was dust.
The male regained his feet, saw the fate of his companion, and turned to run. I was upon him before he could escape and I cut his legs from under him. My sword swept down again as he lay wounded, the edge sheared through his neck, and he was no more.
Bahey Bane by this time had climbed halfway from her grave. Her face was pretty no more, being misshapen with bulges and ridges, and her mouth was filled with sharp fangs in place of teeth. “What has happened to me?” she moaned, and raised her hand to her face. “I am dead, and yet not.” She looked upon me and her eyes gleamed yellow. “Bahey Dhone! It is good to see you.”
I was filled with horror, and did not move as she freed herself from the grave and came towards me. “I hunger,” she said, and laughed.
“Forgive me,” I said, filled with sadness, and I swung my sword again. I brushed the dust from my cloak, put away my sword, and walked from the graveyard with tears running down my face.
The anger that consumed me then was great; and had I happened upon Halfdan I would have slain him where he stood even had it been in front of the assembled ranks of the Thing and all of the people of Mann. I abandoned all efforts to give my family explanations for my comings and goings that would put their minds at rest, and I went abroad at all hours to scour every sheading of the island for my foes; sometimes in company with Brother Finán and Egil, but often alone.
In all my searching I found but one dearg-dul, and it was already maimed, for I had fought it at Tynwald Hill and cut the hand from its arm. I slew it with one blow, and gained but little satisfaction from the deed. That was two days after my vigil at the grave of Bahey Bane.
Two days after that I walked alone from my home, and on the path I came upon a young man walking, and I looked upon him and I saw that he was Fynlo. I felt my stomach tie itself in knots, and great joy and surprise filled me, and I ran to him.
“Fynlo!” I cried. “You have come back to me.”
“Did I not promise that I would return?” he laughed, and took me in his arms.
“And great is my joy that you are here,” I told him, my smile so wide that I feared that it might split my face. “Were you held captive by the Irish?”
“I was,” he confirmed, and he nuzzled his face into my hair. “I was ransomed by a benefactor and brought back to my homeland, and to you, in exchange for but one service.” His lips touched my neck in a kiss. “This!” he snarled, and his teeth bit deep into my throat, and they were sharp as knives.
Fool that I was! I had felt the twist in my stomach, and had thought it to be due to my surprise and the joy in my heart, and had offered myself up to death. Yet would death not be welcome? What was there now to live for? The pain had lasted only for a moment and now his bite seemed to promise me bliss. My arms were placed to throw him from me, but I held back.
Then the memory of Bahey Bane came into my mind. Her pretty face so changed, and her cry of ‘I hunger’, and her family and her friends weeping over her corpse. I thought then of my own family, and the grief they would feel; and of Brother Finán, who was like a second father unto me; and of Egil, true and brave. My resolve returned.
My leg swept behind Fynlo’s, and I pushed with my arms, and turned with my hips, and his grip was broken and his teeth came free of my throat. He stumbled away and fell on his backside. I staggered back likewise, and a wave of weakness swept over me, and I raised my hand to my neck and felt the wetness of blood.
His face was that of a demon. He sat on the ground for a moment and laughed. “Truly, Bahey Dhone, your blood is even sweeter than your kisses! It is like a fire in my veins, filling me with strength such as I have never known.” He leaped lightly to his feet. “I must have the rest. I shall drain you almost dry, and then I shall give you my blood, and we will be together for all time.”
I drew my sword, but he was on me again before I could withdraw it fully, and he knocked it from my grasp and it flew away across the fields. “Now, Bahey, would you slay your love?” He reached out to me again, but I caught his arms and held him off. Yet it took all my strength to do so, for I was weakened by loss of blood and by grief, and he had grown in power by virtue of the blood that he had taken from me. “It is useless to struggle. You shall be mine.”
“Your face frightens me, Fynlo,” I pleaded, and he relented, and his human face returned, and his smile broke my heart. “I would not die still a maid, Fynlo. Make me a woman before you make me into a dearg-dul like yourself,” I begged him.
His smile grew broader still. “Indeed I shall, for my loins are stirring mightily. We shall lie together, and I will give you great pleasure as I drink your sweet blood.”
“I shall remove my clothes, for I have been told that I am beautiful, yet no man has ever seen my naked breasts,” I said.
He swallowed, even though he had no blood remaining in his mouth, and his eyes rolled, and he released my arms and stepped back. “Yes, show me your body,” he said, his voice hoarse.
I unfastened the clasp from my cloak, the clasp that he had given me before he went off to the war, and I slipped the cloak from my shoulders, and smiled at him.
Smiling still, I tossed the cloak over his head and covered his eyes. From the back of my skirts I withdrew a stake of wood, and I thrust forward with it as he was blinded by the cloak, and I drove the stake deep into his chest and pierced his heart.
And it felt as if I were piercing my own; and I fell to my knees and sobbed as the dust settled on the grass that was damp with the mist.