Page 35 of Rise of the Morrigan

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Cú Chulainn andFerdiad circled one another in the arena. Cú Chulainn's weapon of choice was the spear. It was light. Easily thrown if a long-rage attack was called for. A broadsword, like the one his sparring partner Ferdiad carried, could break a spear with a single strike. But broadswords were heavy, Even under the ríastrad Cú Chulainn found them cumbersome. His agility had always been his advantage.

Coupled with the ríastrad he could dominate Ferdiad. But Cú Chulainn hadn't revealed the ríastrad since he'd arrived in Scotland. If he were here to train, he wanted to train as a man. Become the best warrior he could be apart from the ríastrad. That required, beyond a lot of meditation and recitation of verse to quell the beast within, a certain degree of secrecy. Yes, Ferdiad was probably the closest friend he'd had since he was a child. But not even Ferdiad knew what he was... about the beast that raged inside of him.

Ferdiad was a massive man, nearly two heads taller than Cú Chulainn. His thick coat of hair and beard gave him the semblance of a bear. While he was one of the gentlest people Cú Chulainn had ever met—under normal circumstances he wouldn't so much as swat at a mosquito—when he went to battle he fought with a fury that made him practically unstoppable. And for a man his size he was rather agile. But compared to Cú Chulainn he was slow. Cú Chulainn anticipated his strikes, moving out of the way, swinging around to strike him in the ribs with his raw-hide covered spear.

Scáthach, the warrior-queen of Scots, circled the arena as she observed her two most prized pupils. She was a pretty woman despite the long scar that split her face, starting between her brows, crossing her nose, and down her right cheek. She never spoke of how she'd gotten the scar. Rumors abounded, of course. One of the most common was that she'd done it to herself—scorning her parents' attempt to marry her off to the wealthiest suitor when she'd first come of age. If the rumor was true it had apparently worked. Scáthach had never married. She preferred the intimate company of women—usually more than one at any given time—and given the fact bested most any man she'd ever faced in single-handed combat, no one who valued their life dared criticize Scáthach's choice of lovers.

"You two fight like friends!" Scáthach said, shaking her head.

"We are friends," Ferdiad said.

Scáthach winced. "You are partners. I never said you should become friends."

"What would you have us do?" Cú Chulainn asked, regretting it the moment he did. Scáthach's methods were unorthodox. What she'd come up with to solve what she deemed a problem would undoubtedly be painful.

"As I see it, the two of you have spoiled one another. As you are, you're both worthless. I could make you fight to the death..."

"Scáthach, please," Cú Chulainn said...

"Silence," the warrior-queen interrupted. "I said I could do it. Doing so would kill the friendship that softens you both. At least one of you, then, would emerge the warrior you must become. I have not dismissed the idea. But your matches... it better resembles two lovers dancing a jig than two warriors in a clash of arms."

"We are not lovers!" Ferdiad said, his jaw dropped

Scáthach grinned. "I know you are not. For, if you were, one of you would clearly emerge above the other."

"I don't follow," Cú Chulainn said.

"When two join in a tryst one must assume the superior position..."

"With another man! I've never..." Cú Chulainn protest.

Scáthach smirked. "Would I care if you had? My point is that if you two are to progress in your training we must find a way to put your friendship aside. I could compel you two to become lovers... I admit I'd enjoy that..."

"I'd sooner die!" Ferdiad said, stomping his foot.

"Men... so afraid to admit their attraction to one another... give up your feigned protest, Ferdiad. I can see through it."

"There is no attraction!" Cú Chulainn insisted.

"See how easy it is to get under your skin?" Scáthach asked. "You call yourselves warriors, but you find yourselves wounded by the mere suggestion that you might enjoy a few of the forbidden proclivities that most warriors give in to while at war."

"I've never heard of such a thing," Cú Chulainn said, shaking his head in disgust.

"Because you've never been to war. And those who have never speak of such things. Especially to those who haven't been in combat themselves. War changes men and women alike, in ways you'd never imagine. War heightens every sense a man might possess. It awakens lusts, passions, and thrills that most would never entertain under usual circumstances. But such taboos are only so because of custom. But when you are in war all custom, all tradition, is forgotten. There is you... your fellow soldiers... the enemy... and thethrill.War brings out the truth, our true desires... even if those desires might be what the elders of your tribes might call forbidden."

"I promise you," Ferdiad said. "I have no hidden desire to lie with another man."

Scáthach chuckled. "I was speaking of the willingness to kill another human being, but the fact that you felt the need to defend yourself on that point is revealing."

Ferdiad gripped his blade tightly. Scáthach was getting under his skin—but that was her style. She wanted her warriors angry. She wanted them to train with a rage that they might learn to use their rage to their advantage in battle.

After all, as Scáthach had insisted many times, the thrills of war are unruly. She didn't believe in subduing the rage, mastering it, like Cú Chulainn had learned to do to keep the ríastrad at bay. Rather, she believed in unleashing it at the proper time. Only Cú Chulainn knew that if he allowed her to do what she intended if she discovered what he was, there'd be no going back. She'd insist he use the ríastrad, even in training. If people got killed, so be it. Cú Chulainn respected the warrior queen's skill and learned what she taught—but he wouldn't allow her to tap intothatpart of him.

"Ferdiad," Scáthach said. "You're dismissed for the day. Your turn will come tomorrow."

Ferdiad nodded, kicked at the dirt, gave Cú Chulainn a friendly nod, and shuffled his way out of the arena.

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