“No, I’m fine. But in fact I could use a whiskey if there’s any to be had.”
“There is.”
She could see by his face that Blair had come behind them.
“Mounts are being tended,” Blair began. “Supplies and weapons unloaded. Hoyt’s on it. What’s the setup here?”
“We’ve troops bunking in the stables, the barn, the dovecote and the smokehouse as well as in here. There’s a loft that’s roomy enough, and we’re using it as a kind of barracks.”
He poured a whiskey as he spoke, cocked his head at Blair, but she shook hers.
“Sitting room here is serving as the main arsenal,” he continued. “And we’ve weapons stockpiled in all the buildings. The men take shifts, day and night. Training continues daily. There were raids, as you know, but none since Cian and I arrived.”
“Saw to that, didn’t you?” Moira asked before she drank.
“We did, and gave Lilith a good boot in the arse. We lost another man yesterday, one who was wounded in the raid that killed Tynan. He didn’t die easy.”
Moira looked down into her whiskey. “Are there more wounded?”
“Aye, but walking. There’s a kind of parlor open to the kitchen, and we’ve been using that for tending those who need it.”
“Glenna will have a look at that, and arrange it as she sees best. Well.” She downed the rest of the whiskey. “We all know there’s not enough room inside shelters for all the troops. Nearly a thousand here tonight, and half again that many who’ll be here within the next two days.”
“Then we’d better get busy making camp,” Blair said.
There was some pride in it, Moira discovered, at seeing so many of her people—men and women, old and young—working together. Tents began to spread over the field while wood and turf was gathered for cook fires. Wagons of supplies were unloaded and stacked.
“You have your army,” Glenna said from beside her.
“One day I hope crops will be planted here again instead of tents. There are
so many. There never seemed so many before. Can you hold so many within a protective circle?”
Glenna’s face tightened with sheer determination. “Lilith’s pet dog managed to shield their entire base. I hope you’re not suggesting Hoyt and I can’t measure up.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
“Damn big circle to cast,” Glenna admitted. “And the sun’s getting low, we’ll have to get started. We could use you.”
“I was hoping you could.”
With them, Moira walked the field from end to end and, as Glenna had instructed, gathered blades of grass, small stones, bits of earth as she went. They met again in the center.
As word had passed that magic would be done, the troops fell silent. In the hush, Moira heard the first whispers of power.
They called on the guardians, east and west, north and south. On Morrigan, their patron. She took up the chant with them as she’d been given it.
“In this place and in this hour, we call upon the ancient powers to hear our needs and grant our plea to shelter all in this company. Upon this grass, this earth, this stone, protection from harm bestow. Only life at its fullest may cross this ring, and none may enter with harm to bring. Within this circle that was cast no enemy nor his weapon may pass. Night or day, day or night shield earth and air within its light. Now our blood will seal this shield and circle it round this field.”
As Hoyt and Glenna did, Moira cut her palm with an athame, then fisted it around the dirt, the grass, the stones she’d gathered.
It pumped and plunged through her, the heat—hers and theirs—and the wind they raised blew in widening circles, slapping at the tents, singing through the grass until it whipped around and around the edges of the field in a cyclone of light.
With Hoyt and Glenna, she threw down the blood-soaked earth, felt the shudder under her feet as three small flames bloomed and died. When they clasped hands, her body bowed back from the force of what joined them.
“Rise and circle,” she shouted with them, “circle and close and bar this place from all our foes. Blood and fire here mix free, as we will, so mote it be.”
Around the field red flames speared up. When the earth was scorched white in a perfect ring, the flames vanished in a thunderclap.