Celtic Nights

Battlelines


The danaan navy had unexpectedly fallen back to their home ports in Cymri, which sent his high command into fits of paranoia. Malwas was less unsettled by the sudden change of tactics. Years of harrying fomori ships had taken a toll on the danaan fleet and the Regent was an accomplished sailor. Perhaps his ability to count had finally won over his grudge.

The priest had kept his peace during the fiery meeting with his generals. Their dissension was part inborn, for their people were mistrustful of everyone, and part surprise. They had grown accustomed to the predations of the danaan fleet. Now they had to change their strategy to make the most of a precious opportunity and they were uncertain how best to do so.

Malwas was not uncertain. He knew always what he wanted though the means of getting it were sometimes clouded. The priest made his way to the temple of Akria, bowing in obeisance to the altar before heading to the infirmary. He heard his daughter’s voice raised in anger, a common occurrence, and smiled to himself. Amazingly, she sounded like her mother.

Lann stood with her wings fanned out and her hands on her hips, eyes blazing as she harangued her victim. An acolyte stood respectfully but stubbornly in front of the door to prevent her departure. Vicious though she was, she would not shove the young priest out of the way. The blessing of Akria brought with it certain obligations not least a respect for Her clergy.

“You screech like a vexed fishwife.” Malwas observed, nodding dismissal to the acolyte. He was pleased to see her out of bed. Revival had sapped her, which was why he had ordered her confined to the infirmary. Lann turned her burning gaze to him then quenched her fire when he raised an eyebrow. Her dusky skin was still wan and she was breathing heavily after her rage.

“I want to leave.” She hissed, not meeting his eyes. Her demonic blood had ensured she matured quickly but Lann was just past her fifth decade. Fomori or danaan, an elf of fifty years was not an adult. Patience was not her strength. Malwas gestured to her bed in unmistakable command. His daughter was defiant enough to perch on the edge rather than tuck herself back in.

“You will return to your post at my order, no sooner.” He would give a few days to recoup before sending her back to Erin. Any longer and she would start tearing up the furniture in frustration, and the rebels she had been hunting would hear of her absence. Malwas ran his hand affectionately through her hair along the black streak she had inherited from the druid.

“You are not removing me from my command?” Lann looked up suspiciously. The fires banked behind her blue eyes made them look the colour of plum wine. Beyond that hue and the Marnad stripe, she took after him in colouring. She favoured her fomori side in temperament too, which was why Malwas scowled at her question. He was not going to let her lapse pass without punishment.

“You have not been demoted but you will move your base further south to harry the danaan remnant. I have ordered the Marnad clan hold sealed until we can discover how the intruders entered.” He said this quite flatly and weathered Lann’s reaction without flinching. Her pillow was not as robust. Downy feathers burst into the air as his daughter’s claws tore it apart.

“You cannot ban me from my home!” Lann leapt to her feet, wings unfurling to make herself look larger as she growled. She would have drawn her sword had she been armed. Malwas had indulged his favourite child but he did not take impertinence from anyone. The priest spoke out a spell then backhanded her with his full strength. The blow, bolstered by magic, knocked her to the floor.

“Your obsession with your mother’s family is a weakness.” He wrapped a handkerchief around his hand where her teeth had scored his flesh. Lann picked herself up stiffly, her posture again respectful. “You will remain here until the end of the week then rejoin your soldiers in the hills. I have already given instructions for them to withdraw from the Marnad lands. You will do as I say or I will return you to Akria.”

He did not wait for a reply for he meant his threat and gloating was a weakness he knew he suffered. Malwas muttered a minor healing spell to mend the damage to his hand then cast the blood stained cloth into a hearth fire. He regretted now allowing his daughter to keep possession of the clan hold after she had captured the Marnad chieftain and routed their diminished forces.

The connection she felt with her danaan heritage was unexpected. Malwas had reared her since she was six months old without any interference from her mother. Lann had not met another Marnad until she had faced her kin on the battlefield, shortly before the clan’s withdrawal from the war. He had used his daughter’s interest in her clan to manipulate her. Now it seemed he needed to curb that interest.