Naamah's Blessing

learning with Bao, showing him what greens, roots, mushrooms, and berries were edible, and which were to be left alone.
    With every league that passed, my
diadh-anam
burned brighter inside me, beckoning me homeward, ever homeward.
    I did not count the days, but as we drew nearer to the hollow hill, all my senses were keen and alert.
    The forests through which we passed were not so deep and dense as the jungles of Terra Nova, but they were wild and untamed nonetheless. Leading our pack-horses with care, Bao and I picked our way along a burbling stream that flowed cold and clear over smooth, speckled rocks. Beech trees clustered thick, the slanting sunlight filtering gold through their green leaves. Maiden’s-hair ferns grew alongthe banks, and there were deadfalls angling across the stream, thick green moss growing on their bark.
    It was in the hush of mid-day that I sensed the presence of others. This deep in the wilderness, it was unlikely to be ordinary travellers. There was a hint of wood-smoke in the air, and when I strained my ears, I could make out the faint sound of piping notes carried on the breeze.
    My throat tightened inexplicably. “Bao?” I whispered.
    He drew rein, wiping his brow with one forearm. “Aye?”
    I swallowed. “I think they’re here.”
    Bao unslung his waterskin and took a long drink, then recorked it. “Well, then. Let’s go meet them, shall we?”
    Here
was a clearing in a copse of hazel trees, where there was a campfire burning and several figures arrayed around it. One was my uncle Mabon, lounging idly and playing a tune on a silver pipe. One was Oengus, squatting on his haunches and poking at the fire with a long stick.
    The last…
    I loosed a joyous shout.
    The last was my mother,
my mother
, her dark eyes shining, her face familiar and beloved as she rose to her feet.
    I fairly flung myself out of the saddle, taking several swift steps across the clearing, and then she was there, slender and stalwart, her arms encircling me in a hard embrace. “Ah, Moirin mine!” Her voice was husky in my ear, her hands rising to cup my face. “Let me have a look at you.”
    Blinking back tears, I drew back so my mother could look at me.
    “It’s as I thought.” There were tears in her eyes, too, but she was smiling. “You’ve grown into a rare beauty, my heart.”
    “The child was ever a rare beauty, Fainche,” Oengus said mildly, rising. “No one ever denied it.”
    My mother laughed. “Oh, hush, you!”
    Oengus grinned and embraced me. “Welcome home, child.”
    I turned to find Mabon assisting Bao with tethering the mountand pack-horse I had precipitously abandoned. My uncle jerked his chin toward us with a laugh. “Go and meet your wife’s mother, lad!”
    For all his insolence, Bao was Ch’in, and respect for family was ingrained in him. He greeted my mother with a deep bow when I introduced them. “It is an honor, Lady Fainche,” he said in careful Alban.
    My mother looked him up and down, her face unreadable, long enough that Bao flushed slightly under her regard. “So you would face the stone doorway and seek out the Maghuin Dhonn Herself for my daughter’s sake?”
    Bao raised his brows. “Do you speak against it?”
    “No.” She laid one hand on his chest. “There’s pride in you, aye, and stubbornness, too. That much I can see. I pray it will be enough.”
    My skin prickled. “Do you doubt it?”
    My mother turned toward me, her expression grave. “Ah, Moirin mine! You’ve done a thing no one has ever done before, sharing your
diadh-anam
with the lad and calling him into life out of death. We hope, aye.” She shook her head. “But no one can say what the Great Bear Herself will make of it, not even Old Nemed, who remembers more than most of us have forgotten.”
    I glanced around. “Is she here?”
    “No.” There was a troubled furrow between my mother’s brows. “Nemed will meet us at the hollow hill on the morrow.”
    “But tomorrow is tomorrow,” my uncle Mabon said easily, coming over to offer me a warm embrace. “Today and tonight are for celebrating.” He nodded toward the campfire. “There’s a brace of coneys skinned and ready for roasting, carrots and tubers gathered and waiting for the embers, and a stolen cask of
uisghe
begging to be breached. So let’s make merry, shall we?”
    Oengus gave a decisive nod. “Indeed.”
    It was a strange and wonderful thing, that reunion there in the Alban forest. We ate food cooked beneath