Ciara felt no surprise her father had been a member of the Fearghall. He certainly had ascribed to the first Fearghall’s belief that men were more valuable than women.
Yet, she felt compelled to say, “I am sorry.”
“Their pride is not your sin.” The kelle sighed. “No more than my son’s sins are my own. Though I am responsible for calling the conriocht spirit to him.”
“Did you know of the flaws in his character before you used the stone to bless him with the conriocht?”
The kelle shook her head, grief shining in her eyes. “I knew we did not need more protectors, but he was my son. His belief in his supremacy came after he learned to shift into the conriocht.”
“I am sorry,” Ciara said again.
But peace stole over the kelle’s features. “It was a long time ago. What happened when I walked the earth no longer has the power to hurt. Even Fearghall has seen the truth of love and embraced it.”
Ciara couldn’t help wondering how many centuries that had taken. “Where did you hide the Faolchú Chridhe?”
“Somewhere my son and those who took on his name would never have considered looking.” The kelle’s sadness had returned and was palpable. “He was too fond of war, respected the power to kill above all others. He had no respect for the power to heal, though his own mate was a gifted raven who had no need of the sacred stone to heal the most grievous injury.”
“His mate was raven?” Ciara asked in shock.
“Yes, he killed her the same night he took my life.”
“I…” To say she was sorry was simply not enough. Not in the face of such treachery.
“His refusal to believe in the power of love over might led to his downfall and eventually the fall of the Faol.”
“MacAlpin was his descendant.”
“Aye, along with a great many good Chrechte.”
Ciara looked around the cavern, taking notice of the carvings and their significance. The story of a mighty warrior and his protection of the Faol was told in picture along one part of the stone wall. “Fearghall was not all bad.”
“No, he was not.” The kelle smiled softly. “Thank you for understanding that. It is yet more proof of your good heart.”
Ciara did not comment on that. “Where would he and those who came after not think to look?”
“Deep in the earth. He was convinced his wife stole the Faolchú Chridhe and she had an abhorrence for dark, small places. As many of the Éan do to this day. It is not a natural thing for them to go deep in the earth when they crave the sky, particularly not to a place that requires a long journey through a tight, dark tunnel.”
“Was it in the sacred caves of the Donegal or the MacLeod?” Ciara asked, not recalling ever hearing of a cavern that required such a journey to reach.
The kelle’s brows drew together in confusion. “I do not know these names. Are they warriors of your pack?”
“No. They are the names associated with territories.”
“Like hunting grounds? You name them now, rather than warring over the right to them?”
“There is still plenty of fighting.”
The kelle gave a twisted smile. “I suppose there is.” She frowned in thought and then said, “The caves were ones the kelle used only for healing.”
“And Fearghall had no interest in healing.”
“No. He killed my sister priestesses in his fury at the loss of the stone, never to realize they were the only ones who might have led him to it or who could truly draw on its power.”
“Where are these caves?” Ciara asked, a sense of time running short assailing her.
“Do you know the most sacred caves used by the Faol, the Éan and the Paindeal?”
“The Paindeal left the Highlands centuries past.”
The kelle winced. “Because of Fearghall?”
“Yes. You did not know?”
“I know only what I have learned when called into dreams of the Chrechte since my death. It has not happened often and never before have I been able to converse so freely as I am doing with you.”
“Others claim my connection to the stone is very strong.”
“As strong as my own.” The priestess nodded as if to herself and then smiled reassuringly. “It will lead you to itself.”
“I hope so. The seer Boisin says if I do not find it, the Faol will all die from the Black Death.”
“It is coming.” A different kind of grief shone in the kelle’s eyes. “You must learn to connect to the Faolchú Chridhe and save our people.”