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188
THE RIDERS OF THE SIDHE
THE SILVER HAND
189
seen him meet with that Fomor officer Streng at the drinking hall."
"Streng?" repeated Angus with a note of interest. "He's at the fortress
now! If there was any question of the truth of what you've said, that
answers it. They must be very worried to be so openly working together
to find you."
"You see now why I had to come back," said Lugh. "It's Bres himself who
is your worst enemy. The Fomor only want you to submit, to remain weak.
Bres is trying to destroy you completely, and soon! He's the one behind
the worst treatment of you. He has to be stopped."
"It's a very brave lad you've been to risk so much for us," the Dagda
said warmly, clapping a massive hand to Lugh's shoulder. But the big,
weathered face sagged with defeat as he glumly added, 'Too bad it'll be
of such little help."
"Father, what do you mean?" protested Angus. "We can tell the others!
Expose Bres and force him out..."
"And will the others take this boy's word? This outsider? With no other
proof? No, Angus, their bonds of loyalty to Bres are stronger. And
think, son, how long will Lugh survive once Bres sees him?"
Lugh broke in. "I know all of that. I wouldn't have risked coming here
just to tell you about Bres. I have more. I know a way that Bres can be
deposed."
"Have you now, lad?" said the Dagda, his eyes lighting with new
curiosity. He leaned toward Lugh. "Tell us."
"I found your own chief physician in the Mountains of Mourne. He can
restore Nuada's real hand!"
"That old bone-binder!" the Dagda said, astonished. "Has he finally
done it?"
"He has," Lugh assured him. "I've seen proof. But no one is willing to
risk fetching Nuada there. That's what I've come to do. And I need your
help. Will you do it?" He eyed the two hopefully.
The Dagda considered. "Diancecht always swore he'd do it. He could if
anyone can. If Nuada can be restored, the first loyalty of all the de
Dananns will go back to him, Then we'll be free to deal with the Fomor
as a united people!"
"But, father, would Nuada be any help to us now?" Angus asked. "He's so
sad. So hopeless."
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"I saw the spark of defiance still in him," said Lugh
determinedly. "I know it is worth the risk. But it is my choice to do
this and my risk, not yours."
The Dagda slammed a hand onto the table top.
"Wrong, lad!" he declared forcefully. "If we can't be rid of Bres and
restore strength to our people, we're finished anyway. I'm not sitting
and waiting for that any longer. I'm with you."
"And I," added Angus. "But we'll have to make a plan to get Nuada away,
and we'll have to slip the leash of our Fomor guardians, and find a
safe place to do that."
"How?" asked Lugh. He went to a window at the front of the liss,
peering out through a crack in the closed shutters. "They're all still
out there." He looked up toward the smoke hole. "Of course, there's the
way 1 came in."
Angus looked at it, and then gave the substantial figure of his father
a critical survey.
"Not meaning o0ense," he said, "but we'd stand a better chance of
stuffing a bull through there."
"Careful, son," the man warned good-humoredly. "But we can leave here
easily enough. The Fomor are in front. We'll just go out the back."
"There's no door in back," Lugh pointed out.
"Then I'll make one!" the Dagda announced. "These walls aren't made of
stone." He lifted his ax and rose. "One stroke ought to do it."
He advanced on the back wall of the liss, the immense weapon coming up.
"Wait!" cautioned Lugh. 'There's another guard at the back."
"Just one?" asked the Dagda. "Well, then, you'll just have to slip out
there and kill him first. Here." He stepped back close beneath the hole
and bent forward. His back became a broad and solid platform. "Up! And
be quick!"
"Come on, Lugh," Angus invited and hopped lightly onto his father's
back, vaulting from there up to the opening and pulling himself
through. Lugh followed, climbing out onto the sloping roof beside
Angus. They slid down to the edge and peered over. The warrior was
still pacing below.
"Pretty, eh?" Angus whispered, for the warrior's face was nearly
featureless, his ears and mouth and nose only tiny slits in a totally
hairless face. "Looks like a turtle. Let's crack his shell for him. But
be sure he gives no cry."
190
THE RIDERS OF THE SIDHE
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THE SILVER HAND
191
Lugh nodded. When the man walked right below them the two dived upon
him. Both struck the Fomor together, driving him to the ground. Lugh
clapped a hand over the lipless -mouth. Angus pulled his short
sword and lifted it over the warrior's back, but paused. t
"I can't do any warrior this way," he said ruefully, "even one of
them." He reversed the weapon and brought the ( heavy hilt down on
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