The Swordswoman - Books 1-3

Chapter 2-1

They rose sheer from the sea, a group of small islets surrounded by waves that leapt up the cliffs and splintered into a curtain of spray and spindrift before the constant westerly wind blasted them clear, until the waves gathered strength for the next onslaught, and the next and the one after that.

Wave Skimmer dipped her prow to a rogue wave so that scores of gallons of sea water surged on board, ran the full length of the vessel, soaked every one of the crew, and gushed out through the scuppers.

Wave Skimmer"Mother," Melcorka stretched her neck backwards as far as she could to view the cliffs, "why are we here?"

Bearnas gripped the sea-eagle of the figurehead until her knuckles were white. "We are here so you can find your destiny, Melcorka."

Melcorka heard Oengus" rough laugh stop abruptly. "What do I have to do, Mother?"

"Find your destiny," Bearnas repeated.

"But how do I do that?" Melcorka asked.

"It"s your destiny to find," Bearnas told her, "not mine to give you. You must decide what to do."

A sea sea-swell lifted the ship, so she surged up, closer to the cliffs. The voice came from on high, faint, feminine and familiar; only the words escaped Melcorka although she strained to listen.

"What was that?" Melcorka asked.

Bearnas held her gaze but said nothing.

"Did you hear that?" Melcorka tried again.

Nobody else in Wave Skimmer spoke. They avoided Melcorka"s eyes as the voice came again, ethereal, drifting around her mind without the luxury of words. "I am going onto the island," Melcorka decided.

Wave Skimmer"Steer us closer, Oengus," Bearnas ordered quietly.

The ship eased even closer to the island, until Melcorka saw a tiny ledge a few feet above sea level, ascending the cliff in a steep diagonal. She followed it upward with her eyes until it vanished, and then she plotted a route upwards to the dizzying heights above.

"Stop here, Oengus, please." Melcorka poised on the gunwale, swaying on her bare feet as Wave Skimmer bounced and rolled to the rhythm of the sea. She glanced over her shoulder, but the stranger who had been her mother said nothing. The voice sounded again, tantalising, eerie on that place of splintering waves and roaring wind.

Wave SkimmerIt was a short leap from the boat to the island, and Melcorka landed lightly. She balanced easily and looked up. What had seemed like a definite ledge from the boat was only a minuscule c***k, with barely sufficient space to lodge her toes.

Melcorka looked over her shoulder, but Wave Skimmer had backed away. She was twenty yards offshore now, with Oengus holding the steering oar and all other eyes fixed on her. The seventh wave in the sequence rose, soaking Melcorka to the waist and splattering spray high above her head.

Wave SkimmerThe words came into her head, as clear as if somebody stood at her shoulder on that precarious ledge. "You are on your own, Melcorka: decide."

You are on your own, Melcorka: decide."Decide what?" the wind took hold of Melcorka"s words and flicked them to the scudding clouds above.

She began to climb, searching for finger and toe holds with the unconscious skill she had honed on a hundred expeditions hunting birds" eggs on the cliffs of Dachaigh. Twice she looked back over her shoulder, to see Wave Skimmer further away; the wind was whipping spindrift from the surface of the lunging sea. There was nowhere to go except up.

Wave SkimmerAs she climbed, the cliff seemed to rise before her, so the distance to the top never diminished; only the clouds seemed closer. The voice had gone, and now the only sounds were the howl of the wind and the crash and thunder of the waves against the rock.

The ledge stopped. One step there was a finger-wide ridge on which to balance, and then there was nothing except wind-smoothed granite stretching upward as far as she could see.

"What do I do now?" she asked of nobody and started when the voice came again.

"Follow your destiny."

Follow your destiny."Well," Melcorka heard the tartness in her voice, "my immediate destiny is a long drop into the ocean, it seems."

She looked up again, blinked as water dripped from an overhang and saw a dark smudge in the face of the cliff fifteen feet above her head. "That"s a cave," she said, "but how do I get up there?"

There was no answer; the cliff above was sheer rock except for a sliver of trailing bramble, thorn-laden, that the wind swung this way and that.

"Stay here until my muscles fail, or chance that strand?" Melcorka asked herself. She took a deep breath. "There is no choice."

She looked up, saw the slender, barbed branch, tensed her muscles and lunged. For a moment, she seemed to hang, suspended in the air with that frightening drop sucking at her, and then her right hand clutched around the bramble. Thorns ripped into her palm, drawing blood and making her gasp. She hung on, scrabbled with her feet for purchase and shrieked as the wind blew her back and then slammed her against the face of the rock.

The barbs dug into her hand, painful but bearable. She took another deep breath and began to climb the rock face, inch by inch, trusting that the strand would hold her weight as she slowly ascended the cliff, gasping with effort, sweating with fear.

At last, she slipped over the lip of the cave entrance, lay there for a moment until she controlled her breathing and then rose, yelping as she cracked her head on the rock above, and looked around. The cave stretched ahead as far as the light penetrated, its ceiling an inch below head height and gradually lowering.

Melcorka glanced behind her. Wave Skimmer lay a mile offshore, half hidden in a welter of spray. They"ve left me alone here, she said to herself. Suddenly lonely, she stooped, took a deep breath and stepped on, slowly, until her eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom and she could see where she was going.

Wave SkimmerThey"ve left me alone here,The voice sounded again, echoing around the stone cave. Melcorka heard her name called, heard it again and walked on. "Who is that?" Her words bounced around the cave.

The ceiling was even lower now, forcing her to walk round-shouldered, and the walls were green-streaked with constant streams of damp. Within five minutes, she was crouching, and then she dropped to her hands and knees, still moving forward, hoping for guidance from that mysterious voice.

She had heard the sound from the second she entered the cave, but had paid it no heed. Now, it increased from a background murmur to a full-blooded roar. Melcorka eased around a dog-leg bend and came to a sudden halt. The waterfall descended suddenly before her, a liquid barrier that poured through the roof and thundered down through a hole in the cave floor. There was no way around; she had to either return, or try and penetrate the fall.

So this is my destiny. Melcorka sat cross-legged before the surging water, trying to stare through to see what lay on the other side. To sit here and watch the water. She leaned against the rock wall. Somehow, I don"t think this is the end.

So this is my destinyTo sit here and watch the waterSomehow, I don"t think this is the endShe took a deep breath.

There is a light source here, something behind the water, or I could not see anything. That means the waterfall has an exit; there is something on the other side, she observed. She stood up. I can try, or I can wait for a miracle. Better to try and fail, than to fail through fear of the unknown.

There is a light source here, something behind the water, or I could not see anything. That means the waterfall has an exit; there is something on the other sideI can try, or I can wait for a miracle. Better to try and fail, than to fail through fear of the unknown.The piping call was new, sharp and distinct. Melcorka saw the brief blur of black and white as the bird flitted past her and straight into the water.

"That"s an oystercatcher," Melcorka said aloud, "the black and white bird of the shore!" She remembered her mother telling her to follow where the oystercatcher led.

"Oh well, here goes my destiny." Melcorka leaned into the waterfall and bent forward, hoping to find something onto which she could hold. As she stretched, her feet slipped and she fell forward, clutched uselessly at the water for a hand-hold and yelled as she toppled. But only for a few yards, for then she landed on unyielding rock. The waterfall was behind her, and the cave extended massively in front, broadening into an airy cavern.

Controlling the nerves that made her hands shake and legs tremble, Melcorka took a deep breath and walked on, stumbling on the uneven ground until she reached the furthest end, where the cavern opened up to the outside world.

I have crossed the island, she realised, and I am looking over the other side.

I have crossed the islandand I am looking over the other sideA single column of rock split the entrance, rising from the cave floor to the roof. On either side was a bridge of rock, extending to twin sea-stacks that stood above the dizzying drop to the ocean below.

The voice returned. "Destiny, Melcorka. You must choose your future."

"Destiny, Melcorka. You must choose your future."It was impossible to see the top of both sea-stacks simultaneously. Melcorka had to step from side to side to view first one and then the other. She could see an object at the furthest end of each stack, shaded by mist that seemed to cling to the cliff.

"I can"t see clearly," she said. "What have I to choose?"

The mist dissipated, shredding even as Melcorka looked, so that one minute the stacks were shrouded and the next they were clear. On the flat summit of the left stack sat a harp, golden-strung on a silken cushion, with a flagon of wine and a basket of ripe apples at the side. Wind teased the strings of the harp, so it tantalised her with a soft melody, enticing her to step forward and taste the fruit. Melcorka smiled and reached out, to see the rock-bridge widen to become a highway, beautifully paved in golden blocks, and with a handrail of polished oak.

She looked at the right-hand rock stack. This one was narrower, with no basket of fruit on top; no silk cushion, only a rusted sword thrust into a block of granite, while the bridge was as narrow as the length of her foot, rough-hewn and running with damp.

"So there is my choice. A harp playing some of the most delightful music I have ever heard, or a battered old sword."

Melcorka looked again. She had no experience of swords, but that one was very much the worse for wear, with a rusted blade and a hilt in need of repair.

"My destiny awaits." Melcorka adopted a semi-mocking tone. She looked again at the stack on which stood the harp. She saw a man there, n***d as a new-born baby, handsome as sin and built like a god, with smooth-flowing muscles and a smile that would melt a heart of flint. He beckoned to her, waving her into the paradise of music and luxury over which he presided, and Melcorka gasped in sudden salacity. The god-man sat on the silk cushions and strummed the golden strings of the harp so that music wrapped around Melcorka like liquid passion, enveloping her in thoughts and feelings so strange, yet so delightful that she opened her mouth and eyes wide in astonishment.