The battle at Tailtiu was, in effect, over. All three of the kings and two of the queens were dead, but the pursuit of the Tuatha de Danaan went on. Suirge, leading a group of fifty men after a fleeing group of the enemy, pulled up sharply when, after hearing some sounds, he noticed an almost-invisible trail leading into a grove of woods alongside their path. Sending the others on ahead, he went in, determined to check out this possible sanctuary by himself.
He was more than rewarded. The faint path led him to a little creek down in a hollow, a beautiful place where sparkling water leapt and darted over moss-covered rocks between banks studded with wildflowers. Standing in the water, washing the dust of the battle off her skin, was Eriu. Her cloak, tunic, and her only weapon - a small dagger - were lying on the bank. Eriu's beauty had stopped the army in its tracks when they'd first met her; her effect on Suirge now, as she stood naked in the water, was even more profound.
But he did not remain paralyzed long enough for her to become aware of his presence. Quietly slipping down among the reeds, he was between her and her clothes before she knew he was there. When she first heard him she lifted her head suddenly, her preternaturally large eyes widening a little when she saw him.
She was the first to speak. "What is your name, warrior?" she asked with an engaging smile.
"Uhm--uh, Suirge," he answered. "Suirge, son of Caicer." Shaken, he stumbled over his words.
She laughed, her voice a complement to the stream. "Well, you do have me at a disadvantage, Suirge!" she said. "What will you now do with me?"
Shifting his long spear to his left hand, he put his right on the hilt of his sword. "Uh - my lady, you are one of the queens of our enemies. In truth, it is my duty to slay you, to bring your head back to our camp!"
She stepped out of the water and took a few steps toward him. She was so beautiful he could hardly breathe; her small breasts high and firm, her nipples rigidly erect, her waist tiny, her legs smooth and lovely. A veritable cascade of red hair fell down her back, further than her knees. "Well, then," she said, putting a hand on her hip, "should you not be doing your duty, then?"
He stared at her. "You are so eager to die?"
She shrugged. "No. But I am helpless, as you can see. I have no weapons, no warriors with me. If you mean to give me my death, I cannot stop you."
He sighed. "Lady, I cannot," he admitted finally. "I cannot, I cannot slay a defenceless woman - especially one so beautiful as you!" He gestured toward the path. "Go," he told her. "Go, I saw no one here!"
Oddly, she gave him an almost exasperated look. But then she grinned broadly. "Yes, that is good," she muttered, as if to herself. "If I live, I can rally our people - we can make another attack!"
Suirge looked dismayed. "Eriu, you should not say that! You will cause me to doubt my decision!"
She kept smiling. "The choice is yours," she reminded him.
"My lady, I cannot let you walk away knowing you will attack us again!"
"Then, I suppose you must kill me," she advised. "Do your duty as you see it. Kill me. Take my head."
He groaned, looked away, didn't answer. But he laid his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Suirge," she said gently, touching his hand, "it serves neither of us if you wait..."
"It is so," he agreed hesitantly. Slowly, he drew his sword; she knelt before him, brushed her hair away from her neck. His hand was shaking terribly, her lovliness completely unnerved him.
She laughed. "Come, champion!" she cried. "You cannot cut my head off cleanly if you tremble like that! Here, let me help you!"
"Help me? Help me kill you?"
She gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. "Surely. Why not?" Reaching up, she put her palms on the blade of his sword; his hands were relaxed, she probably could have taken it from him if she'd tried.
But she didn't try. Instead, she pressed her finger against the point. "It is very sharp," she said approvingly, showing him a droplet of blood. Then she brought it down toward herself, finally resting the point against her own right breast, just above the delicate nipple, angled downward. "Very sharp," she repeated, pressing it against her skin a little. "It will enter my body very easily." Her eyes came back up, focused on his. "Pierce me, Suirge," she said quietly. Her face was completely peaceful.
"No," he mumbled. "No, perhaps if you turned away... Perhaps I could pierce your back..."
She shook her head. "No. Face to face." She clamped his weapon tightly against her body. "Do it, warrior," she urged.
"Eriu, queen, I do not wish to. You are leaving me no choice! Know that this pains me!"
She laughed again. "I am sure that it will pain me as well!" she cried. Then she looked pensive. "At least it seems that it will," she mused, glancing at the sword's slender blade once more. "I have never before been pierced by a sword. Have you?" she asked, almost conversationally. He nodded. "Does it hurt very much?" she persisted curiously.
Again he stared. "Ah--no, no. Yes. My lady, I--"
She laughed again. "Well, I shall know soon!" she declared. "Come, Suirge," she continued gently. "I will not flinch. Long has it been foretold that your people would rule this island; you cannot rule it as long as I live!"
Chewing his lip, Suirge shifted his hand on the hilt of the sword, held the upper end of the blade with his left, down near the head, worked his fingers against the smooth metal. Finally, tentatively, he pushed down with it a little. She remained quite still, watching his face, holding the blade firmly in place with her hands. He pushed a little harder.
"Ahhhh..." she moaned, her eyes dropping closed as the blade broke through her golden skin and began sinking into her soft flesh. Blood welled up around it, flowing down over her breast and dripping onto the ground. Eriu didn't move, and even in her pain she kept her hands on the blade, kept guiding it into herself. Suirge stared; it was not until her ethereal eyes came open again that he realized he was no longer pressing on the blade. "Do not stay your hand, warrior," she grated, forcing the words out. "Do not stay your hand now!"
Taking a deep breath, he tightened his hand on the hilt and pushed it down hard. Eriu groaned again as the metal cut more deeply into her chest, but she still didn't move, and she still guided his blade. Moving his eyes from her face to her breast, he watched the sword slowly vanish into her, watched the ever-increasing flow of her blood. Her mouth was open, her eyes blinking rapidly; blood appeared on her lips, started trailing down across her chin.
By now the narrowed part of the blade was completely hidden in her breast, and her body was offering it little resistance; it slipped softly and gently on in. Her blood began to spurt out, falling hot on his arms, and more was draining from her mouth. Still she did not move, still she did not take her hands away from the blade, and still he pressed it deeper.
The sword sank a little further in, but at last it seemed to encounter some resistance. Suirge hesitated, but her wide eyes urged him on, and he jammed the blade on down. There was an audible ripping sound; she gasped and let go of the blade at last, her bloody hands moving down to her side, under her ribs.
Very slowly, she lowered her eyes and looked down at the sword piercing her, at the blood forcing its way out around the metal. Her chest was heaving, causing it to bounce. "You have slain me indeed, Suirge," she said, her voice weak and thin. "Draw out your sword now, warrior, and let my blood flow into the soil." She looked up at him; already her eyelids looked heavy, and her face was growing pale.
He reached down and touched her cheek. "Eriu, would that this had not been needful..."
She gave him a somewhat strained smile. "But it was. Warrior, I grow cold, and your face fades before my eyes. Take your sword from me; perchance I can remain kneeling long enough for you to take my head!"
He hesitated. "My lady, perhaps it would be best to wait until you--"
She sighed. "Pull it free, warrior," she begged. "It feels cold and heavy within me..."
Sighing in turn, he put one hand on her shoulder and started pulling it back. Her breast seemed to be trying to come with it, and she restrained it with her own hand. Her body shook violently, her fingers digging into her breast as he tugged it free. When it finally came loose her blood began to spurt out; for an instant she sat motionless, not breathing, just watching it. Then she collapsed forward against him. Tenderly, he put his arm around her shoulders, supported her trembling body. Blood streamed down between them, so hot it was almost burning his skin. She laid her hands on his shoulders, clutched at him in her pain.
Finally, blood gurgling from her lips, she raised her eyes, looked at him. "My head," she mumbled, her voice almost inaudible. "I can remain up for a few moments--can you take my head now?"
"I can," he told her, pulling himself to his feet. Again Eriu took the blade in her hand, laying it on her shoulder this time. Tipping her head to one side, she brushed her long hair out of the way again.
"Now, Suirge," she begged, gazing at him through half-closed eyes. "And remember, your people will rule this land for ever--pay it the respect it is due, call it by my name, by Banba's, by Fodla's!" She sighed. "Kill me now, warrior. Kill me now or you will have to cut my head from my corpse!"
He nodded, and swung his sword almost gently, pulling it rapidly toward himself as he did. He saw the keen edge slice cleanly into her neck, saw the jets of blood shoot out. Remaining perfectly still, she kept her eyes fixed on his, until her head toppled softly onto the ground in front of her, her hair following it down. A volcano of blood shot upwards from her severed neck; her body fell heavily onto its side, her legs extended stiffly, toes quivering. Suirge waited until it was still before he picked up her head and left the little glade, leaving her headless body lying by the stream that now ran red with her blood.