The Swordswoman Collection

Chapter 4

There had always been the ocean. It surrounded her, stretching as far as the hazed horizon in three directions: north, west and south. To the east, on a clear day, she could see a faint blue line that Mother had told her was another place called the Mainland of Alba. Someday, she promised herself, she would go to that other land and see what was there. Someday: but not today. Today was an ordinary day, a day for milking the cow, tending the hens and scouring the shore to see what gifts the sea had brought. She looked again, seeing the rough grassland and patches of heather dotted with the lichen-stained rocks that lay scattered all over Dachaigh, her home island.

High above, the blue abyss of the sky was cool with the promise of coming spring, fresh as the ever-mobile sea, decorated with frisky clouds blown by the ever-present breeze.

Melcorka mounted a grassy knoll and her gaze, as so often before, wandered to the east. Over there, on that side of the island, was the f*******n Cave. It had been a temptation ever since Mother had banned her from even going close, and she had ventured there on three occasions. Each time, her mother had caught her before she got to the entrance.

"Some day," she promised herself, "someday I will see what is inside the cave and find out why it is forbidden." But not today; today, other more urgent matters demanded her attention.

Lifting her skirt, Melcorka ran across the belt of sweet Machar grass that bordered the beach. There was usually some treasure to pick up: a strangely shaped shell or a length of driftwood that was invaluable on this nearly treeless island, or perhaps a strange fruit with a husky skin. As usual, she ran fast, enjoying the sensation of the wind in her hair and the shifting crunch of the shingle beneath her bare feet when she reached the beach. A shower of cool rain washed her face, seabirds swooped and screamed overhead, and the long sea-breakers exploded in a rhythmic frenzy around her. Life was good; life was as it had always been and always would be.

MacharMelcorka stopped and frowned: that mound was new. It was on the high tide mark, with waves breaking silver around the oval lump of dark-green seaweed. It was no seal, no strayed animal of any sort; it was long and dark, with a drag mark where something had hauled itself out of the sea and up to the edge of the shingle. Now it lay there unmoving on her beach. For a second, Melcorka hesitated; she knew, somehow, that whatever this was, it would change her life. Then she stepped forward, slowly, lifted a stone to use as a weapon and approached the mound.

"Hello?" Melcorka heard the nervousness in her voice. She tried again. "Hello?" A gust of wind whipped her words away. She took one step forward and then another. The mound was longer than her, the length of a fully grown man. She bent toward it and dragged away one of the trailing strands of seaweed. There was more underneath, and then more again. Melcorka worked on, uncoiling the seaweed until what lay beneath was visible.

It"s only a man, Melcorka thought, as she stepped back. It"s a n***d man, lying on his face. She had a second look to ascertain if the man was fully n***d, looked again out of interest"s sake and came cautiously closer. "Are you still alive?"

It"s only a manIt"s a n***d man, lying on his faceWhen the man did not answer, Melcorka reached down and shook his shoulder. There was no response, so she tried again with more force. "You crawled from the sea, n***d man, so you were alive when you arrived here."

A sudden thought struck her, and she checked his feet and hands. They were all equipped with fingers and toes. "So you"re not a merman," she told the silent body, "so what are you? Who are you?" She ran her eyes over him. "You"re well-made, whoever you are, and scarred." She noticed the long, healed wound that ran across the side of his ribs. "Mother will know what to do with you."

Lifting her skirt above her knees, Melcorka ran back home across the shingle and Machar, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that her discovery had not risen and run away. She ran through the open door. Her mother, Bearnas, was busy at the table.

Machar"Mother! There"s a man on the beach. He might be dead, but he may be alive. Come and see him." She widened her eyes and lowered her voice. "He"s n***d, Mother. He"s all naked."

Bearnas looked up from the cheese she had been making. "Take me," she said, touching the broken pewter cross that swung on its leather thong around her neck. Although her voice was soft as always, there was no disguising the disquiet in her eyes.

A couple of small crabs scuttled sideways as Bearnas approached the body. She looked down and pursed her lips at his scar. "Help me take him to the house," she said.

"He"s all n***d," Melcorka pointed out. "All of him."

Her mother gave a small smile. "So are you, under your clothes," she reminded her daughter. "The sight of a n***d man will not hurt you. Now, take one of his arms."

"He"s heavy," Melcorka said.

"We"ll manage," Bearnas told her. "Now, lift!"

Melcorka glanced down at the man as they lifted him, felt the colour rush to her face and quickly looked away. The man"s trailing feet left a drag-mark in the sand and rattled the shingle as they hauled him home. "Who do you think he is, Mother?" she asked, when at last they lurched across the cottage threshold.

"He is a man," Bearnas said, "and a warrior by the look of him." She glanced down at his body. "He is well-muscled, but not muscle-bound like a stone mason or a farmer. He is lean and smooth and supple." When she looked again, Melcorka thought she saw a gleam of interest in her eyes. "That scar is too straight to be an accident. That is a sword s***h, sure as death."

"How do you know that, Mother? Have you seen a sword s***h before?" Melcorka helped her mother place the warrior onto her bed. He lay there, face-up, unconscious, salt-stained and with sand embedded in various parts of his body. "He"s quite handsome, I suppose." Melcorka could not control the direction of her gaze. What she saw was less embarrassing this time, and just as interesting.

"Do you think him handsome, Melcorka?" There was a smile in her mother"s eyes. "Well, just you keep your mind on other things. Have you no chores to do?"

"Yes, Mother." Melcorka did not leave the room.

"Be off with you then," Bearnas said.

"But I want to watch and see who he is…" Melcorka"s protest ended abruptly as her mother swung a well- practised hand. "I"m going, Mother, I"m going!"

It was two days before the castaway awoke. Two days during which Melcorka checked on him every hour and most of the population of the island just chanced to be passing and casually enquired about the n***d man Melcorka had found. For those two days, Melcorka"s household was the talk of Dachaigh. After the man had awakened, Melcorka"s household became the centrepiece of the community.

"We"ve seen nothing like this since the old days," Granny Rowan told Melcorka, as she perched on the three-legged stool beside the fire. "Not since the days when your mother was a young woman, not much older than you are now."

"What happened then?" Melcorka folded her skirt and balanced on the edge of the wooden bench that was already occupied by two men. "Mother never tells me anything about the old days."

"Best wait and ask her then." Granny Rowan nodded her head, so her grey hair bounced. "It"s not my place to tell you anything that your mother doesn"t want to share." She lowered her voice. "I heard you found him first."

"Yes, Granny Rowan," Melcorka agreed in a hushed whisper.

Granny Rowan glanced over to Bearnas. Her wink highlighted the wrinkles that Melcorka thought looked like the rings of a newly cut tree. "What did you think? A n***d man all to yourself… What did you do? Where did you look? What did you see?" Her cackle followed Melcorka as she fled to the other room in the house, where a crowd was gathered around the stranger, all discussing his provenance.

"Definitely a warrior." Oengus waggled his grey beard. "Look at the muscles on him, all toned to perfection." He poked at the man"s stomach with a stubby finger.

"I was looking at them," Aele, his wife said with a smile and a sidelong look at Fino, her friend. They exchanged glances and laughed together at some secret memory.

Adeon, the potter, grinned and sipped at his horn of mead. "Look at me, if you wish," he said and posed to show his sagging physique at its unimpressive best.

"Maybe twenty years ago." Fino laughed again. "Or thirty!"

"More like forty," Aele said, and everybody laughed.

Melcorka was first to hear the groan. "Listen," she said, but adults who are talking do not heed the words of a girl of twenty. The man moaned again. "Listen!" Melcorka spoke louder than before. "He"s waking up!" She took hold of Bearnas" arm. "Mother!"

ListenThe castaway groaned again and jerked upright in the bed. He looked around at the assembled, staring people. "Where am I?" he asked. "Where is this place?" His voice was hoarse.

As every adult began to babble an answer, Bearnas clapped her hands. "Silence!" she commanded. "This is my house, and I alone will speak!"

There was instant silence save for the stranger. He looked directly at Bearnas. "Are you the queen here?"

"No, I am no queen. I am only the woman of the house." Bearnas knelt beside the bed. "My daughter found you on the beach two days past. We do not know who you are or how you came to be here." She gestured to Melcorka. "Bring water for our guest."

"I am Baetan." The man swallowed from the beaker Melcorka held to his lips. Pushing her away, Baetan tried to rise, winced, and bobbed his head in greeting. "Well met, woman of the house. Please bring me the head of this place."

"There is no head of this place. We do not need such things."

"What is your name, woman of the house?" Baetan sat up higher. His light blue eyes darted from face to face in that crowded room.

"I am Bearnas," Melcorka"s mother said.

"Bearnas. That means bringer of victory. It is not a name for a farmer, or a woman." Baetan slid out of bed, swayed and grabbed hold of the wall for support.

"It is the name I have," Bearnas told him calmly, "and you bring shame to my house by standing n***d in front of my guests."

Melcorka suddenly realised that she was not the only female in the room who stared at Baetan"s body. She felt the colour rush to her face as she looked away.

The man paid no heed to Bearnas" strictures as he straightened up and faced her. "I have heard that name. I know that name." He took a deep breath. "Are you related to the Bearnas? The Bearnas of the Cenel Bearnas?" Baetan"s voice was now strong.

theBearnas glanced at Melcorka before she replied, "I am that woman."

"You are not how I imagined," Baetan said.

"I am how I am and who I am." Bearnas" reply was cryptic.

"Then it is you I have come to see." The man pushed himself away from the wall. "I have a message for you."

"Speak your message," Bearnas said.

"They are back," the man said simply.

The change in the atmosphere was sudden, passing from interest and slight amusement, to tension and, Melcorka thought, fear. "Who is back?" she asked.

"Leave, Melcorka." Bearnas seemed to realise that Melcorka was examining the man"s nakedness with undisguised curiosity. "You are too young yet."

"I am twenty years old," Melcorka reminded her.

"Oh, let the girl look." Granny Rowan laughed. "It will do her no harm to see what a man looks like."

"It is not what she sees," Bearnas said, "it is what she might hear."

Granny Rowan"s cackle followed Melcorka through to the other room. "You will remember the views," she said.

Melcorka stood as close to the door as she could as the adults spoke. She heard the murmur of voices and a sudden hush, followed by her mother"s raised voice. "Melcorka! Move away from the door and pack your things. We are leaving Dachaigh."

It was as quick as that. One minute Melcorka was settled in the home she had known all her life, and the next, her mother had decided they would leave.

"Where are we going?" Melcorka asked. "Why are we going?"

"Don"t ask, don"t argue, just do as I tell you." Bearnas opened the door and touched Melcorka"s shoulder. "All your young life you have wanted to travel, to see what lies beyond the confines of our small island. Well, my dear, now you are going to do just that." Her smile lacked humour as her hazel eyes seemed to drive into Melcorka"s soul. "It is your destiny, Melcorka. It is your birthright."

"What do you mean?" But Bearnas said no more and the day passed in a frenzy of packing and preparing.

"Bearnas!" Granny Rowan gestured to the window. "Your friend is back."

Melcorka heard the harsh call and then saw the sea-eagle land on the stunted, gnarled apple tree that stood outside the house. The bird sat still, with its head swivelling until it stared right inside the cottage window.

"Open the window, Melcorka." Although Bearnas spoke quietly, there was complete authority in her voice.

The sea-eagle hopped inside, perched on the top of the bed, looked around the room and jumped on to Bearnas" outstretched arm.

"Welcome back, Bright- Eyes." Bearnas tickled the bird"s throat.

Melcorka shook her head. "It"s not a welcome back, Mother. We have never seen that eagle before."

"The sea-eagle is my totem bird." Bearnas seemed to be musing, so quiet were her words. "Your bird is the oystercatcher, Melcorka. Watch for the oystercatcher, and follow where she leads. The oystercatcher will guide you to do what is best."

"Mother…" Melcorka started, but Bearnas had left the room, taking the sea-eagle with her.

Granny Rowan watched her go. "There will be a time when you are grateful for the flight of an eagle, Melcorka." Her eyes were opaque. "That time is not today."

Somebody had found clothes for Baetan, so he stood in the far corner of the house wearing a linen leine, the ubiquitous shirt that everybody, male and female, wore. Baetan"s leine strained to reach around his chest, while his loose tartan trousers barely extended past his knees.

leineleine"We need a boat," Baetan said.

"Of course," Bearnas agreed.

"We don"t have a boat," Melcorka started, until Granny Rowan put a hand on her shoulder.

"There are many things you don"t yet know," Granny Rowan said quietly. "It"s best if you hold your tongue and let the world reveal its wonders."

"Where are we going?" Melcorka asked again. "Are we going to Mainland Alba?"

"Better than that. We"re going to see the king," Bearnas told her, "and that is as much as I know myself."

"The king? Do you mean the Lord of the Isles?"

"No!" Bearnas" tone could have cracked granite. "Not the Lord of the Isles. We are going to see the king himself!"

"We will need a boat," Baetan persisted.

"We have a boat." Bearnas ignored Melcorka"s repeated headshake. "Come this way."

Seabirds screamed harsh greetings as Bearnas left the cottage where Melcorka had spent all her life and walked in a straight line, eastward over the rising moorland, toward the mid-morning sun. Melcorka followed, wondering. "Mother…?"

"Don"t ask, Melcorka." Bearnas glanced to her right, where the sea-eagle circled.

A westerly wind whispered through the damp heather, a friendly hand on their back that pressed them onward. "Mother, we are heading toward the f*******n Cave."

"Thank you, Melcorka." Bearnas did not try and hide her sarcasm. Bright-Eyes landed on her shoulder as if it had never perched anywhere else.

A dip in the moor cracked into a gulley that deepened with every step, until they were descending along a narrow cut with walls of rock on both sides. A cave loomed ahead, ten feet high, black and cold. All her life, Melcorka had been warned not to enter this place, but now her mother strode in without looking to left or right.

"Mother…" After wanting desperately to explore the f*******n Cave, now Melcorka hesitated. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.

A cloak of darkness wrapped around her, crisp, fresh and scented with salt. She peered ahead, listened to the confident padding of her mother"s feet and the heavy tread of Baetan. She could identify each just by the sound of their footsteps, although she did not know how, or why.

"Here we are." Even in the dark, Bearnas seemed to know exactly where she was. She stopped beside a niche in the wall and lifted out three rush torches. Striking a spark with two pieces of flint, she allowed the rushes to catch fire. Yellow light pooled around them. "Hold that." She handed one to Baetan. "It"s not far now."

Melcorka heard the surge of water, and then the light from the torch was reflected from their left, and she realised they were walking along a rocky ledge with water gurgling beneath them. The sound of surf grew louder until it echoed around the cave. "Where are we?"

"This cave extends from the side of the hill to a sea exit in the Eastern Cliffs," Bearnas explained. "Now, stand still and don"t get in the way." Bending down, she rolled back what Melcorka had thought was the wall of the cave. "It"s not magic, Melcorka, don"t look so surprised! It"s only a leather screen."

There had been an occasional visit from storm-tossed fishing boats to Dachaigh, but the vessel that Bearnas revealed behind the screen was different to anything Melcorka had seen before. Both the stem and stern rose sharply, while the hull was narrow and made of shaped wooden planks, overlapping in clinker fashion. There were holes for six oars on each side and space amidships to fit a mast. At the bow, rising in an open-mouthed scream, a carved sea-eagle"s head glared forward.

"What do you think, Melcorka?" Bearnas stepped back.

"It"s huge!" Melcorka did not hide her surprise. "But where did it come from?"

"We put it here before you were born," Bearnas said. "I did not want you to know about it until it was time."

"Time for what, Mother?"

"Until it was time for you to leave the island… until it was time for you to meet the king… until it was time for you to become who you really are." Bearnas slapped the hull of the boat. "You like her?"

"Yes, indeed," Melcorka said. "But I know who I am. I am Melcorka, your daughter. Are we really going to meet the king?"

"She"s a beauty, isn"t she?" Bearnas ran her hand along the smooth line of the hull. "We call her Wave Skimmer because that is exactly what she does." When she looked at Melcorka, her eyes were level and calm. "Yes, we are going to meet the king."

Wave Skimmer"Why?" Melcorka asked.

"Baetan gave me some information that we have to pass on," Bearnas said quietly. "After that…" she shrugged, "we"ll see what happens."

"What information did Baetan give you?" Melcorka asked.

"That was for me," Bearnas said. "If the king wishes you to know, he will tell you. Or if our situation alters, then you will know."

"We might be better going to the Lord of the Isles," old Oengus suggested.

"You know full well that we will not approach that man," Bearnas snapped, "and I will not hear his name again." Her voice was as grim as Melcorka had ever heard it.

Multiple gleams of light reflecting on the water warned Melcorka that they were not alone. When she looked back, it seemed that most of the population of the island had followed them into the f*******n Cave. Torchlight highlighted cheekbones and dark eye sockets, weather-tanned foreheads and the determined chins of men and women she had known all her life. Some carried bundles and casks, which they placed on the rocky shelf beside the boat.

"Mother – should we not see Donald of the Isles before we see the king?" Melcorka tried again.

"You should do what I tell you." Bearnas emphasised her words with a stinging slap to Melcorka"s rump.

Oengus shook his head and touched Melcorka on the shoulder. "Best keep your tongue still, little girl," he said.

"But why?"

"There is history there," Oengus said quietly, "old history."

"But Mother…" Melcorka began.

"Enough!" When Bearnas lifted a single finger, Melcorka clamped her mouth shut.

"Let"s get her launched," Oengus said, and within minutes everybody had crowded round. "Come on, Melcorka. You too!"

There were log rollers stacked between the boat and the wall of the cave, but even with them, Wave Skimmer was heavier that Melcorka had expected. It took them an hour to manoeuvre her onto the water, where she took on her true appearance, long and low and sleek. Something surged within Melcorka, so she wanted desperately to board that boat and sail her to… she did not know where, exactly. She only knew that something deep within her was calling.

Wave SkimmerDespite his grey beard and the pink scalp that shone through his thinning hair, Oengus leapt on board like a teenager, tied a cable to her stern post and attached it to a stone bollard on the shelf. "All secure, Bearnas."

Bright-Eyes fluttered to the figurehead and perched on top, a flesh and blood eagle on top of a carved wooden one and Melcorka was unsure which looked the fiercer. Bearnas stepped on Wave Skimmer and balanced in the bow. "Are we all here?" Although she did not raise her voice, her words penetrated even to the back of the cave.

Wave Skimmer"We are all here." The reply came in a unified chorus from everybody except Baetan and Melcorka.

"Who are we?" Bearnas nearly sang the words.

"We are the Cenel Bearnas." The words echoed around the cave.

Bearnas cupped a hand to her right ear. "Who are we?"

The reply came, louder than before. "We are the Cenel Bearnas!"

"Who are we?" Bearnas shouted the question this time and the reply came in a full-throated roar that made Melcorka wonder that these people who she had known all her life could make so much noise. She looked around at her friends and neighbours, the smiling farmers and grumpy potter, the peat-cutters and dreamers, the sennachie and the ditch-digger. She knew them all, yet here, they were unfamiliar. Who were they?

Who are we"We are the Cenel Bearnas!" The words echoed around the cave and re-echoed again.

"Then let us BE the Cenel Bearnas!" Bearnas shouted, and the islanders gave a triple cheer that raised the hairs on the back of Melcorka"s neck. She joined in with the rest, raising her fist in the air and stamping her feet on the deck, even though she had no idea what or why she was cheering.

BEThe noise faded to a whisper that slid away, leaving only the surge and suck of the waves and the slightly ragged breathing of the islanders.

"The Cenel Bearnas." Melcorka repeated the words. "That means the people of Bearnas, but you are not the head of the island, Mother."

"You have much to learn, Melcorka," Granny Rowan said. "It would be best if you kept your tongue under control, watched, listened and did as your mother tells you."

"I see you brought supplies. How much?" Bearnas asked.

"Enough for a five-day trip," Oengus answered at once.

"That should see us to where we have to go," Bearnas said quietly. "It is time to become ourselves again."

The islanders spread out inside the boat, each sitting on one of the wooden thwarts that ran from starboard to larboard, with Bearnas retaining her place in the bow and Oengus sitting at the long steering oar in the stern.

There was silence, as if everybody was waiting for a signal. Bearnas gave it.

"Dress," she said.

The islanders opened chests that sat beneath the wooden thwarts, and each extracted a package. They changed slowly and with care, so it took them a full fifteen minutes to affect a transformation from quiet-living islanders who tended cattle and grew barley, to a boatload of warriors in chain mail. Melcorka stared at these people she had grown up with yet did not know at all.

Standing in the stern, Oengus looked formidable with an iron helmet close to his head and a shirt of chain mail taut over his belly. Granny Rowan was amidships, holding her oar with as much aplomb as she had ever tended bees in her apiary. Lachlan, who spent his life cutting and stacking peat, was near the bow, smiling as his rough hands ran the length of his oar. Yet their presence faded to nothing when compared to her mother, Bearnas, who wore a chain shirt that descended to her calves, and a helmet decorated with two golden wings.

Bearnas looked over the boat. "Weapons," she said, and her crew delved into the chests or groped on the bottom of the boat. They emerged with a variety of swords and spears, which they laid beside them on the rowing benches.

Melcorka could only stare as her mother lifted a silver-handled sword.

"Are you ready, Cenel Bearnas?"

"We are ready," the crew responded at once.

"Mother?" Melcorka felt the tremor in her voice.

"Cast off!" Bearnas" voice was like a farm gate grinding over gravel. When she met Melcorka"s eyes, there was humour mingled with the steel, force with the compassion, but authority above all. "Push off!"

The rowers closer to the shelf pushed themselves into the water, so Wave Skimmer eased sideways.

Wave Skimmer"Row!"

The rowers took a single short stroke, then another and Wave Skimmer eased toward the semicircle of light that marked the outside world.

Wave Skimmer"In oars!"

The rowers withdrew the slim, bladeless oars and Wave Skimmer burst out of the cave and hit the swell of the Western Ocean. The sea eagle figurehead rose, so it pointed to the sky, and then plunged down until Melcorka felt her stomach slide, and then it rose again. Bright-Eyes balanced on top, gave one harsh call and began to preen its feathers. A seagull swooped close, had a look at the sea-eagle and decided not to investigate further.

Wave Skimmer"Raise the mast!" Bearnas ordered and, with no apparent effort, the crew positioned a thirty-foot tall length of straight pine upright in the centre of the boat. Oengus gave gruff orders, and stays were fastened to keep it secure, a cross-spar was hoisted and secured near the top and a great red canvas sail hoisted and dropped, to swell in the breeze.

"Out oars," Bearnas ordered, "in time now, just like the old days."

Granny Rowan began a chant that was quickly taken up by the others, so they rowed in unison, hauling at the oars with small gasps of effort, with Oengus proud at the steering oar and Bearnas standing in the bow, looking forward.

Wind blowing, seas rising

Wind blowing, seas risingAnd a man shouting wildly

And a man shouting wildlyMy land is rich hiuraibh ho ro

My land is rich hiuraibh ho roMelcorka swallowed hard and watched as Wave Skimmer rose higher and higher. She looked behind her as her home diminished with distance.

Wave Skimmer"That is your past, Melcorka," Oengus said softly. "Say goodbye. Your future is coming."

Melcorka was not sure how she felt. There was sadness there, and uncertainty at the suddenness of it all, but mingled with the doubt was a surge of excitement and wonder at all the new things she knew she would see.

Sea spume and surging weather

Sea spume and surging weatherAnd an elemental storm wearying them

And an elemental storm wearying themMy land is rich hiuraibh ho ro

My land is rich hiuraibh ho roShe looked at the crew of Wave Skimmer. She had known these people all her life; now, they sat hauling on the long oars as the ship rose and fell, dashing aside the waves from its sharp prow. The youngest was middle-aged, the oldest in her dotage, yet here they were, pulling lustily at the oars and singing as if all the fires of youth burned in their collective belly.

Wave SkimmerRushing wind lashing

Rushing wind lashingAnd the white-headed waves grating

And the white-headed waves gratingMy land is rich hiuraibh ho ro

My land is rich hiuraibh ho roThe chants continued, verse after verse, with Granny Rowan starting the opening words and the crew joining in as they leaned forward and hauled back. A shaft of sunlight probed from the east, reflecting from the waves in a myriad diamonds of light and highlighting the faces of the rowers.

Never would their courage shrink

Never would their courage shrinkThe stout-hearted crew

The stout-hearted crewMy land is rich hiuraibh ho ro

My land is rich hiuraibh ho roSuddenly, they did not look like farmers and peat-cutters. The sun cast shadows from high cheekbones and strong jaws so, for the first time, Melcorka saw the hidden strength of these people. She saw the deep eyes and set mouths and wondered how these men and women would have looked twenty or thirty years or so back, when they were in their prime.

At last, they saw the land

At last, they saw the landAnd they found a safe haven

And they found a safe havenMy land is rich hiuraibh ho ro

My land is rich hiuraibh ho ro"Over there." Bearnas" voice broke into Melcorka"s train of thought. "That"s where you are heading, Melcorka." She leaned closer to her daughter. "There, you will find your destiny."