Read The Ballad of Rosamunde for Free Online Page B

slipped over the land, when
the Beltane fires were lit in the hills, Padraig walked his horse
to the old Norman gate. His heart in his mouth, he mounted and rode
out into the night, slipping the ring onto his finger when he left
the road.

    *

    “ His steed was proud, as black as night
    He donned the ring, was lost to sight.
    The steed ran on, proud and bold,
    His hooves thundered on the road.
    The lover knew he faced his test;
    Without his lady, he’d know no rest.
    Lit by the fires on ev’ry hill,
    The heat of his ardor knew no chill.
    Padraig rode for his lady heart,
    Would the fey queen keep them apart?”

    *

    Padraig reached the stone circle, but found
only silence within it. The wind was still, the ground dark. He
feared he had come too late, that the host had already ridden out -
or that perhaps they had guessed his intent and chosen to forgo
tradition to keep the prize of Rosamunde.
    There was much he would forgo to keep her by
his side.
    Then the wind rustled in the branches of the
hawthorne that grew to one side of the stone circle. His stallion
snorted and tossed his head, then Padraig heard the clarion call of
a distant trumpet.
    The single note was clear, as clear as a
mountain stream, as lovely as a summer morning. The sound melted
his heart, dissolved his inhibitions, filled his veins with
starlight and resolve.
    The earth in the middle of the mound
cracked; it gaped wide. A portal opened in the ground, one wide
enough for four horses to ride abreast. Padraig glimpsed the hall
beneath that he had visited the night before and his grip tightened
on the reins.
    Golden light spilled from the hidden court
into the night’s darkness and the Faerie host rode forth. Music
accompanied them, the tinkle of ten thousand silver bells mounted
on a thousand harnesses. Their steeds pranced with pride, confident
of their splendor and beauty. The Beltane fires on the adjacent
hills burned higher as if in tribute, their flames stretching to
the stars.
    And the fey laughed.
    Padraig stared in awe at their magnificent
display.

    *

    “ Then lo, he saw the Faerie host,
    Their company more beautiful than most.
    He saw the silver and the gold;
    He saw the Faerie knights so bold;
    He saw the maidens garbed so fine;
    He heard the music, saw the wine.

    The will ‘o wisp danced on the hill
    Fey light glimmering and never still
    The stars seemed to have come to earth
    As the Faerie host rode in mirth.
    And so it was he glimpsed his lady,
    On the left of the King of Faerie.”

    *

    There were horses in the company without
riders, or perhaps their riders were too small to be seen. Padraig
would have eased his steed to join the company, but the beast
seemed to know his expectation - it marched alongside, as if it had
done as much a dozen times before.
    The Faerie host flowed over the hills, eased
down to the valley and ascended the next hill. Small Faeries darted
toward the occasional cottage, claiming whatever gifts had been
left for them. They shared the milk and ale with their fellows,
lapped the porridge and cast gold coins in their wake. Each Beltane
fire they passed snapped and crackled in acknowledgement of their
passage, and Finvarra laughed at the sight. His wife, riding on his
right, smiled but there was no joy in her eyes.
    Neither was there joy in the steady gaze of
Rosamunde.
    Padraig eased his horse closer to the
royalty, stroking its neck to encourage it to pass between the
other beasts. The stallion needed little encouragement, and Padraig
considered the possibility that horses felt a natural attraction to
the Faerie King.
    Just as the Beltane flames acknowledged his
presence.
    Padraig did not know how long they rode, nor
how far. He thought solely of getting closer to Rosamunde without
attracting attention, and he made consistent progress in that goal.
They crossed a vale and ascended another hill. When they reached
the top, the shining dark water of Lough Carrib was visible,
gleaming at the foot of the hills. There