Accompanied by a select group of warriors, Amergin, Eremon, and Eber followed the Tuatha De's emissary up onto a small hill in the middle of a wooded glade not far from Tailtiu. At its summit, in the middle of a ring of standing-stones, MacGreine and the three queens waited for them. Behind them stood a host of Tuatha warriors, including many the Milesians had not seen during the battle.
"Those are fresh warriors," Eremon said in a low voice. "Perhaps they mean to fall upon us here!"
"I think not," Amergin answered. "Their conduct in the battle has been most honorable. They want terms, I am certain."
Though Eremon was still mistrustful, the Milesian leaders went on up the hill. As they neared the top, Eriu stepped forward to greet them. She was still arrayed for battle, dressed in a short green cloak with a sword at her waist. She looked very tiny to the Milesians, but they knew how efficiently she'd wielded her sword and spear in the battle. The blood - Milesian blood - that stained her cloak was testimony to that.
"A welcome to you, Sons of Mil!" she cried. "A welcome to you who have conquered us. Henceforth this land shall be yours for all time, as I prophesized on our last meeting!" Unbuckling the belt that held her sword, she dropped it to the ground. The other two queens followed suit.
Not forgetting the fate of their brother Don, Eber and Eremon kept silent. "You will then yield the land to us?" Amergin asked. There was a trace of doubt in his voice.
Eriu gave him a friendly smile; her huge green eyes sparkled. "Long has your coming been long foretold," she answered. "This land is yours, by right. And yes, we will yield it to you, without further battle."
"Good words, those," Amergin commented.
"If," Eriu went on, drawing a suspicious look from Eremon, "You will grant us a boon."
Even Amergin scowled a little now. "We have already granted that your names will remain on the land," he reminded her. "What further boon do you wish?"
She took a few steps toward him. "It is a boon to you, in truth, though you may not yet know that," she murmured. "We require that you honor this land." Dramatically, she gestured toward herself and the two other queens. "And we are the land!" she cried. "Our kings, two of whom you have already slain, have been the caretakers. Now you must become the caretakers, and your wives must become the land, as we have been!"
Amergin glanced at his two brothers, then turned back to Eriu and nodded. "It is well," he said finally. "We will honor the land, as you wish. We three will become its caretakers."
"This must be done properly," she warned.
"How shall we do that?" Amergin asked.
"By making a union with each of us, here and now." With this, she slipped her cloak from her shoulders. The Milesians glanced at each other, startled. But Eriu continued to undress until none of her clothing remained. Naked, she looked even smaller; her waist was very slender, her breasts small and high, her arms and legs strongly muscled but perfectly shaped. In spite of the battle, no scratch marred the smoothness of her skin.
Stepping forward, she pulled the Druid to herself. "But your husband - " he protested as she tugged at his cloak and tunic.
"He will witness!" she told him fiercely. Her smile remained in place. "He knows what we are doing, we are surrendering this land to you! I am the land!" Confused, Amergin stopped resisting, let her pull off his clothes.
When she'd gotten him undressed, she pulled him down on top of herself. Her hands were very skilled, and in spite of the audience, Amergin found himself responding readily. He was very gentle with her as she guided him into herself; he was such a huge man alongside her tiny form.
It might have been a ritual, but even so, Eriu didn't seem to lack passion; her hands were all over him, drawing his down to her small, firm breasts. Her tiny nipples were hard against his palms. Very quickly, Amergin began groaning, rising to orgasm. He lifted himself over her a little, pressed his hips hard between her thighs. She in turn folded her legs tightly around his hips. And, oddly, pushed his upper body rather far to one side.
"Now, my husband!" she cried, as Amergin began to stiffen in climax. "Now! His seed flows into me, do it now!"
Before anyone could stop him, MacGreine drew his sword and lifted it over Amergin's back. Eber and Eremon started to lunge at him, but they were much too late, and the Tuatha king drove the blade downward.
But it didn't strike the Druid. Instead, it pierced Eriu's abdomen, just below her waistline.
Her body went rigid, her eyes flew open, and her lips parted slightly. With tears in his eyes, MacGriene leaned his full weight on the crossguards of the sword, driving it right through her slight and quivering body and on into the earth, not stopping until the hilt pressed against her skin, until she was literally nailed to the ground by it. She gasped repeatedly and clutched at Amergin's shoulders with frantic fingers as MacGriene impaled her, but all the while she kept her eyes fixed on her husband's face.
Spent and stunned, Amergin pulled out of her. For a moment, he couldn't do anything except stare at her as she lay trembling on the ground, her blood pumping furiously out around the blade. "Why?" he asked, looking from her to MacGriene.
"Our lives are forfeit," she told him, struggling to maintain a smile and almost succeeding. "For you to rule the land, you had to unite with me - and I with the earth. Now, you can pass the sacred queenship on to one of your own women!"
"But - but why? You greeted us, you gave us a fair prophecy - knowing all the while it would cost your life! Why?"
She nodded. "Not difficult that. It was fated, it had to be. It is proper, druid." She sighed. "I need suffer only these few moments of pain...!"
"But - !"
She put one hand on the hilt of the sword piercing her. "Now, Amergin," she instructed, reaching up to touch his cheek. "You must take out your sword and cut off my husband's head!" The Druid looked around at MacGriene. He was kneeling, his head bowed slightly. Amergin, after a moment of doubt, took out his own sword, stood beside the man, and, with a single precise stroke, decapitated him.
For a moment, the body remained as it was, spouting blood, while the head rolled across the ground. Eriu, tears filling her eyes, watched closely until the corpse finally collapsed.
"Now," she said very calmly, "You must take my head as well!" The Druid turned back, a protest in his eyes. "What does it matter?" she demanded, gesturing at the sword piercing her. "Can you not see that my life has already been taken? You must complete the ritual, you must cut off my head!"
He touched the hilt of the sword as if to pull it out, but she shook her head. "Leave it," she told him. With great effort, biting her lips and shaking, she lifted her head and shoulders off the ground, propped herself up on her elbows.
He hesitated. "Now," she reminded him, forcing a ghost of a smile. "I weaken, I cannot hold my head up for you for long!"
He let his eyes run down her body; her miniature nipples were still erect, her reddish pubic hair still stained with his semen. There was a pool of blood under the small of her back and a thick line of it running across her abdomen, joining that already staining the earth. Her eyes were locked on his; she was waiting, her little body shaking with the effort of holding herself up.
"I cannot," Amergin told her finally. "I have just lain with you. I cannot take your life!"
"Then have one of your champions do it! And quickly, quickly!"
Still watching her, the druid motioned to Suirge; the slim, boyish champion came forward. "Take her head," Amergin ordered, his voice soft. "With respect."
Suirge, who'd watched the whole procedure, nodded. Drawing his sword, he held it level for the stroke. But he too hesitated as he looked at the tiny and beautiful woman before him.
Eriu gave him her smile. "Now, champion," she urged. "Your pause only brings me more pain!"
He swung lightly, gently, drawing the blade so it would cut. Her head, her long red tresses following it, dropped softly into her own lap. Blood erupted from her severed neck; her muscles relaxed, letting her shoulders fall back. As her legs jerked in a death- spasm, the druid and his champion stared down at her head. Her eyes were closed, but there was a look of satisfaction on her face.
Then, as if her body was made of salt, it began to lose form. They watched in disbelief as it dissolved, sank rapidly into the ground. After a few seconds, all that remained was the sword, still thrust deeply into the earth.
Almost as soon as Eriu's body had vanished, the serious-faced Fodla stepped up and pulled the sword from the ground. "It is well," she said, casting it aside. Her voice was low, husky. She glanced at Eremon and, a faint smile on her lips, reached for the brooch that held her cloak. As she undressed, one of the warriors of the Tuatha de Danaan came to stand beside her, a bared sword in his hand. "My champion," she explained. "He will stand in the place of my husband MacCecht, dead on the field of battle." She looked directly at Eber and Eremon. "Which of you wishes to stretch out with me?" she asked directly, tossing her cloak down and pushed back her long black braids.
"This is not seemly," Eremon growled. But he could not take his eyes off her as she stripped away her tunic.
"It must be," she insisted. Her serious expression broke into a sudden and radiant smile. "You have had it in your mind, Son of Mil, that it would be best if we were all killed in any event, that we could lead no rebellions against your rule. It is so, Eremon, it is best. Come to me now, if you would share in the rule of this land!"
Eremon looked doubtful, but only for a moment. "I will," he told her finally, taking off his cloak. "Etan," he asked, turning to another of the chiefs, "Will you champion for me?" Etan, his face expressionless as always, walked up and stood beside him, his hand already resting on the hilt of his sword.
The entire scene was repeated, except that now everyone knew what was about to happen. As his orgasm began, Eremon pulled his body aside; no one lunged at her Tuatha champion as he plunged his sword into Fodla's slim body. Eremon refused to look at her face as he pulled quickly out, stood up, and stepped aside. He glanced at the Tuatha warrior. "Should I now take his head?" he asked.
"No, he is no king, and he was not my husband," Fodla told him, her voice thin and weak. "MacGriene did not wish to live on, with Eriu dead." She was trying to pull herself up on her elbows as Eriu had, but, because her champion had driven his sword higher into her abdomen, she wasn't as successful. After watching her struggle for a moment, Amergin wound her dark braids around his hand, pulled her head up a little by her hair.
"Thank you, druid," she told him, fixing her dark eyes on his light ones. "But if you could lift my head a bit higher, I believe your champion would have a clearer stroke!"
He followed her instructions, pulling her on up; she gasped in agony when the angle began to put pressure on the sword impaling her. Amergin, his own distress obvious, stopped.
"No," she moaned. "No, druid, do not stop! Lift my head!"
Almost frantically, he jerked on the briads, yanking her on up. She groaned as the sword's edge tore her abdomen open. Etan did not make her wait long; as Suirge had done before, he swung lightly, pulling the blade toward him. Fodla's neck was very slender, very fragile; it offered almost no resistance to his sword. Amergin stepped back to avoid the shower of blood as her twitching corpse collapsed, then respectfully laid her head in her lap. They waited then, watching until her body had dissolved.
Last was Banba; standing beside them, she looked up at Amergin sadly. "My husband is already dead," she told him. "And my champion as well, in the fighting. I must ask that you take their place." As she spoke, she started removing her clothes.
"What about him? Why can't he do it?" Amergin asked, gesturing toward the man who'd pierced Fodla, but then realizing that he'd disappeared, that he'd faded silently back into the ranks of the Tuatha who stood observing the ceremony.
"He cannot. He was Fodla's champion, not mine."
"My Lady," Amergin pleaded, "this need not be! The kings and two of the queens have already perished; surely that is enough death!"
"No," she insisted, standing naked before him, a tiny figure, her dark hair undone and flowing down her back, her dark eyes flashing. "It must be! If you do not kill me, then I shall take my own life. And a third of this land shall never be yours!"
"It is best, Amergin," Eber put in. "Best that none of the rulers live."
Banba turned her attention to him, flashed her infectious smile at him. "Are you ready, then, Eber Finn," she asked, "to accept the friendship of my upper thighs?"
Helplessly, Amergin watched her lie down, watched her spread herself with her little hands, watched Eber enter her. If anything, her behavior was even more passionate than the others; she strained her breasts up against Eber's hands. Her nipples, as tiny as Eriu's, pushed out even more rigidly. In seconds she was moaning, writhing under the body of the Milesian, pressing her thighs against his hips, pushing herself up against him.
Not trusting himself to miss Eber's vigorously-moving body, Amergin brought the sword down alongside him long before it was time, letting the point rest lightly against Banba's skin, locating it well below her waistline so that she'd be able to sit up after she'd been pierced. Seeing what he was doing doing, the Tuatha queen rewarded him with a an almost irresistably charming smile.
Watching closely, he waited until the proper moment, until Eber was grimacing in orgasm. Twice he tensed his muscles to push on the sword, but he kept staring at the sharp point resting against her soft and unprotected belly, and he could not.
"Ah, now, Druid!" she begged. "Now, you must drive it through me, make me one with the earth, with the Mother! It must be now, his fluid flows into me, mine must flow to the Mother...!"
Hesitating no longer, Amergin plunged the weapon down. He saw the hard metal tear into her delicate body, heard her grunt in pain, saw her bright blood well up and out. Her eyes urged him on; as he'd seen the others do, he gripped the crosspieces and pushed hard. Her dark eyes held his; he could hear her flesh tearing as the blade passed through her and buried itself in the ground. He didn't stop until the guards were pressing hard against her stomach, until his hands were reddened with her blood.
Then, as Eber pulled out, Amergin stepped away. Wincing and trembling violently, Banba pulled herself up to a sitting position. Eber motioned to his friend Caicer; he looked pained, but even so, he came forward, drawing his sword from its sheath as he came.
Banba looked up at Amergin for a long moment. "Well done, druid," she told him. "I thank you." Then she turned her eyes to Caicer, smiled weakly at him as he stood before her.
Reluctantly, the Milesian lifted his sword. Tossing her head, Banba exposed the left side of her neck and raised her chin proudly, and Caicer held the sword just a couple of inches from her smooth, slim neck. She watched him calmly, looking remarkably relaxed considering the sword piercing her.
"I shall not make you wait, lady," Caicer said quietly, moving his sword in a slow swing, drawing it toward himself quickly, gently. It was more like a caress than a blow. They all saw it slice smoothly through her neck, saw her blood spurting out over it, saw her head tip forward and roll softly from her shoulders, down between her breasts, finally coming to rest against the handle of the sword piercing her. Her eyes remained open and her lips formed a tiny smile as a fountain of blood shot upward from her neck; her body sank back to the ground rather slowly, though her legs were quivering and jerking violently and her hands were opening and closing rapidly. But finally, her corpse, like the others, rapidly dissolved.
"A strange people," Eremon observed, looking at the sword that that remained buried in the ground.
"Yes," Amergin agreed. "A strange people with strange magics. I wonder about this - I wonder if our war with them was entirely what it seemed!"