The Exile by Steven Savile Read Free Book Online Page B

one day they would be crowned kings in their own rights.
    Alone, left as they had been going with the constant prodding and goading, one would almost certainly have killed the other before the season was out. They couldn't have allowed that to happen, but they couldn't simply sit the boys down and tell them that. Boys tended to have thick skulls and needed the learning beaten into it. So they had cooked up the idea of letting them stew, see if they couldn't work out themselves what they stood to lose, and why they stood to lose it.
    "Every once in a while you are quite wise, my old friend. Far better this than banishing such young men. Judging by the silent language of their bodies I would say that just this once you were quite right."
    "Aye, sire. It looks like they've put childhood behind them and realised that they are men now."
    "Much as we did, eh?"
    "Much as we did," Gorian agreed, "although I still haven't forgiven you for bedding Ailis."
    "Ah, who needs forgiveness," Grudnew chuckled, "when you can make a woman squeal like a stuck pig?"
    "And then there was Maeve and Una. And Cait. And-"
    "Yes, yes, you've made your point. But you know what I believe? Men should never let a woman-"
    "Multiple women-" Gorian interrupted.
    "-come between them," Grudnew finished as if he hadn't heard him.
    "Come on you old dog, let's go join the celebration shall we? There's good ale to be drunk. Rioch's tapped a fresh keg and he's even brought out the honey wine."
    They moved over to where Tall Iesin was picking gently over his long-necked bouzouki. It was a beautiful instrument, made from a single hollowed out piece of rosewood. His fingers moved lithely up and down the fretted board, picking out the chords of the "Ballad of Tam Lin". Fionn sat at his feet, keeping rhythm on his bodhran. The music was rich and sweet but it was nothing compared to Iesin's voice.
    The crowd was rapt by the twists and turns of the tale. Children gathered around Iesin, their faces turned up to look at him as he sang, their hushed expectancy quite beautiful to see.
    Gorian and his king found a spot a little removed from the children and settled down to listen to the balladeer as he carried them to the land of the Sidhe where Tam was a mortal man, who, after falling from his horse, was rescued and captured by the Queen of the Fairies. The horror of the ballad unfolded slowly, until Tall Iesin held them in the palm of his hand, playing them as expertly as he played his bouzouki. His voice dropped to a hush as he told them that every seven years the fairies paid a tithe to Hell of one of their people, and Tam was fated to become that tithe on that night: on this night, because it was one and the same.
     
    "And pleasant is the fairy land,
    But, an eerie tale to tell,
    Ay at the end of seven years,
    We pay a tiend to hell,
    I am sae fair and fu o flesh,
    I'm feard it be yself.
     
    "But the night is Halloween, lady,
    The morn is Hallowday,
    Then win me, win me, an' ye will,
    For weel I wat ye may.
     
    "Just at the mirk and midnight hour
    The fairy folk will ride,
    And they that wad their true love win,
    At Miles Cross they maun bide."
     
    Roth Bellyshaker came pushing through the listeners, bearing three flagons of ale. He stumbled but like an expert drunk didn't spill so much as a drop. Belching, he settled down beside Gorian and Grudnew, face flushed with more than just pride. The man had already drunk his fill, and without doubt would drink it twice more again before the night was done. Loosing another belch, he offered them a flagon each.
    "To the lads," Bellyshaker said by way of a toast, and downed a frothy mouthful of ale.
    "To the lads," Grudnew echoed. The king drank deeply, wiping the creamy foam from his mouth.
    "Aye, to Cullen and Sláine," Gorian said, tipping his own flagon back and draining it. He smacked his lips appreciatively. "Good stuff this. Rioch knows his brew, that's the honest truth."
    "It is, indeed," Bellyshaker grinned, "an' I