Prince of Hazel and Oak. John Lenahan
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witch that trashed my police station!’
‘What did he say?’ Nieve asked.
‘Oh, he said good morning, it’s nice to see you again,’ I lied.
Nieve gave me a sceptical look.
‘This is my dream and I don’t want her in it!’ he shouted, pointing his finger inches from her face.
‘Careful, Brendan,’ I warned.
‘What is he saying?’ Nieve asked again, but then said, ‘Oh, this is ridiculous. Tell him to place his head on the table.’
It took a lot of convincing, but I finally got Brendan to place the side of his face flat down on the table. Nieve took a small piece of gold out of her satchel and rubbed it between her hands while incanting.
Brendan looked up with a wild panicky expression in his uppermost eye. ‘Is this going to hurt?’
‘He wants to know if this is going to hurt,’ I translated.
‘Yes, I suspect it will,’ Nieve said calmly.
‘No,’ I told Brendan, ‘you’ll be fine.’
Nieve opened her palms and dripped the molten gold into Brendan’s ear. He shot up, grabbed his ear, overturning the bench he was sitting on, and danced around the room howling in pain. I was glad no one other than me spoke English. The curse words coming out of his mouth would have made a prison inmate blush. He picked up a silver tray, sending half a dozen wine glasses crashing to the floor, and tried to use it as a mirror to view his ear. At his insistence I inspected the lughole and assured him that it looked OK – which it did – and finally got him sitting down again.
‘What the hell did she do to me?’
‘Now stick out your tongue,’ Nieve demanded.
‘No way, lady! I’m not letting you near me ever again.’
I looked at Nieve and she smiled at me. ‘Brendan,’ I said in Gaelic, ‘can you understand me?’
‘Of course I can understand you. You keep that crazy woman away from me.’
‘Brendan, I’m talking to you in ancient Gaelic. Are you sure you can understand me?’
‘Huh?’
‘It seems that Nieve has given you a two-second lesson in the common tongue. You just learned a new language.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Impossible things happen here every day.’
‘Now, Brendan,’ Nieve said, ‘stick out your tongue and I will complete the process, then we will no longer need to speak through Conor. Personally I don’t trust him as a reliable interpreter.’
Brendan clenched his mouth shut and shook his head no, like a baby that won’t eat his dinner. It took even more of an effort to convince him the second time. I tried everything, including agreeing with him that it didn’t matter ’cause it was all really a dream. It wasn’t until I threatened to never feed him again that he gave in.
‘Come on,’ I said, ‘stop being such a baby.’
‘It hurt, damn it. You do it.’
I rolled my eyes at him but to be honest it wasn’t something I wanted to experience.
‘Ask her if it will hurt as much as the last time – ask her exactly that.’
I translated and Nieve said, ‘No.’
Brendan watched with crossed eyes as the molten gold hit his tongue. He not only flipped over the chair but the table as well. He hopped around the dining hall screaming bloody murder and this time everyone in the room heard exactly what he was saying. Most of them left in order to get some distance between them and the madman.
‘God almighty!’ Brendan screamed from behind his hand in perfect Gaelic. ‘You said it wouldn’t hurt as much!’
‘No,’ Nieve replied in her usual calm manner. ‘You asked if it would hurt as much as the last time and I said, no. I knew it would hurt more.’
Nieve gave me a rueful smile; I was starting to realise she had a wickedly subversive sense of humour.
‘Now that I can converse with you,’ Nieve said, ‘I realise I do not want to. If you will excuse me.’
Nieve left. I asked a servant to bring Brendan a glass of Gerard’s finest wine. It was a bit early but I figured he would appreciate it. He did. After one sip he downed the glass in one.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
‘To be honest, Conor, I’m not sure. This dream is way too real for my liking.’
‘I keep telling you – it’s not a dream.’
‘All right then, as much as I don’t relish meeting another member of your family, how about that introduction to your father you promised me.’
‘I don’t think I ever promised you that.’
‘As good as – well?’
‘OK,’ I said, ‘come with me.’
Chapter Five
Fand
The closer we got to Dad’s room the more worried Frick and Frack looked. They obviously thought Brendan was a nutcase and that letting him loose in the west wing was a bad idea. They were shocked when I told them that Brendan could enter Dad’s room without them.
The first thing we noticed was that the curtains in The Lord’s Chamber were closed but the room was bright with the light of about thirty candles.
‘You must have a hell of a candle bill,’ Brendan quipped.
‘These are Leprechaun candles. They last for years.’
‘Of course they do, silly me.’
As we entered the room we saw a woman sitting cross-legged on a stool at the foot of the bed. Her head was covered with an intricate gold-flecked veil that played weird tricks with the candlelight. Her arms were outstretched at her sides and she was chanting in Ogham. I couldn’t see her face but I knew from the voice who it was. She stopped chanting when we entered the room.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
‘I am a difficult woman to disturb, Prince Conor,’ Fand said without moving, ‘it is I who will be disturbing you. Shall I leave?’
‘No, please go on; Dad can use all the help he can get.’
Fand continued her chanting in a voice so low we could hardly hear. I motioned for Brendan to come closer to the bed and I pulled the sheet back from Dad’s chest revealing his right arm and his attached runehand.
‘What did you do to him?’ Brendan said in an accusing tone.
‘Oh give it up, Brendan, I didn’t do anything to him,’ I said, trying to whisper. I explained about Dad’s hand being reattached during the Choosing ceremony in the Chamber of Runes and how Mom and Fand sealed him in this amber shell to stop his hand from killing him.
‘So he’s in some kind of magical suspended animation?’
‘That’s about right,’ I said as quietly as I could, hoping Brendan would follow suit.
He didn’t; he started to chuckle and then laugh out loud. ‘Oh boy!’ he said with no intention of being remotely quiet. ‘I’m going to quit the police force when I wake up. I think I’m going to write science fiction movies.’
‘Brendan, could you keep your voice down.’
‘Why? I’m proud of myself.