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Part II: Containing a very brief wedding, a very large man with a goat for his best friend and a woman so happy that her feet come off the ground.

As events like to do, the wedding of Andrew and Colleen came and went with some mishaps and some successes. Colleen’s mother complained about several flower arrangements at the start and Father Daltry showed up with a horrible case of the sniffles, but neither the bride nor the groom noticed. They did not worry about the little details. The young couple was too absorbed with each other. She was a sight to see in her dress and every man who witnessed her that sunny morning wished, for a small silent moment, they were in the groom’s shoes. Andrew, a picture of calm style, stood up front dazed by Colleen’s beauty as she walked towards him. There was nothing else for them but each other. All in all, it was as boring as one would imagine it to be for everyone who was not there to be married.

The reception, on the other hand, held something for all comers. There was food and drink and music and dancing. There was laughing and singing and smiles and shouts of joy. Andrew’s family, Colleen’s family, friends and people randomly invited from the town joined in a mighty celebration of a great love story.

It was well into the festivities when the first strange event of the evening occurred. While Andrew sat watching his new bride turn around the dance floor with her father an old man sat down next to him. A shock of white hair reached out insanely from his scalp and a full beard climbed down to his belly. Andrew found the scent of old books that hovered around the man slightly pleasant and as the elderly man leaned over to speak to him, Andrew found himself feeling the warmth of friendship already growing between them.

“I suppose you’ll be doing a turn or two with your lady,” he said.

Andrew nodded. “I am not much of a dancer, but since this is only to happen the once, I am sure she’ll get me out on that floor sooner or later.”

The elderly man grinned showing a mouth full of gums. His hoarse laugh fit well with his labored breathing. “Right, right.” he replied. “Sure as I am here, she will drag you before the pipes.”

Andrew glanced at Colleen. She was flashing her bright smile at him. “It may be sooner than expected. She has that look in her eyes.”

“Just take care to keep her feet on the ground,” the man told him.

Andrew looked back at the old and wrinkled face not certain he heard correctly. “Her feet?”

Surprisingly strong hands grabbed Andrew by the lapels and pulled him close. “The Queen has taken fancy to your bride, friend. Keep her feet on the ground if you place value in her.”

“Value?” Andrew said pulling himself free. He shot a quick glance to Colleen who seemed oblivious to everything but the whirling music. “Now see here….” When he turned back to face the old fellow Andrew found the chair next to him empty. Looking around the hall showed that the strange man who smelled of books had vanished. Someone tugged at his sleeve and Andrew spun a bit more quickly than he would have liked, but was welcomed by Colleen’s arms wrapping around his neck.

“You going to dance with your wife, sir?” she asked.

He smiled, planted a quick kiss, and led her out to the center of the room.

Although no one in the hall noticed it, the second strange event of the evening had begun. A very large man and a very sturdy goat came walking into the hall as Andrew and Colleen began to dance. Of course, one would think that a man the size of three stepping into the building accompanied by a thick bearded goat at his side would attract attention, but as the odd pair were agents of Queen Ériu and most certainly wearing glamour of hiding, it is understandable.

“They do carry on, don’t they?” the large man named Conall said to his friend.

The goat looked up at him, his left ear twitching. “No more so than we do, I suppose. Plus I enjoy their songs. The players are quite good, do you not think?”

“Are you telling me that Gaghar the Great likes this horrible noise? I find it a bit rough on my delicate ears and their grasp of the old tongue is rather offensive.”

Gaghar laughed making an equally horrid sound. “There has been nothing delicate about you since your mother whelped you at the Great Circle.”

Conall grabbed Gaghar’s horns and twisted his head sideways. “You would bring my mother into this, goat?”

“Oh, do relax, Conall!” Gaghar cheerfully chided. “You are behaving rather strangely tonight.”

“I find this whole business very disturbing.” Conall replied as he carefully scanned the area for food. “It has been a while since we were required to do this.”

The goat reared up on its hind legs and wiggled. “I can not count the times we have done this. How many grooms have we left dancing with a log or even just arms full of air? These people can not fathom wights like us.” Gaghar cocked his head and flicked the tips of his ears. “Ah-ha! Listen to that!! They are singing my song.”

The band belted out a chorus of “Ailliliú, puilliliú, ailliliú tá an puc ar buile!” while the dancers twirled in circles.

Conall groaned. “I can not understand why they had the need to write a song about you? Nothing but a silly old goat getting mad.”

Gaghar did a little four-legged dance for his friend. “Oh, but Conall, I was very mad that day. It was the anger of legends!!”

Slamming his hands together in a thunderous clap, Conall shouted, “I danced on the shield wall the night Naill fell! I tossed stones across the sea onto the Saxon’s soft heads! Where is the Song of Conall?”

“Perhaps, they did not notice your dancing and tossing. You don’t have magnificent horns like mine that draw attention.”

“All you did was run around and rip their lawman’s pants.”

The goat nodded, his little beard bobbing. “Conall, they were very fine looking pants and I believe that they were quite pricey.”

The large man looked up sharply at the dance floor and blinked. Everything stopped, the moment frozen. “It appears that our opportunity is at hand.” He said moving out onto the dance floor towards the paused figures of Andrew and Colleen. She was mouthing something to him that would forever remain unheard.

Gaghar leaned his head down to inspect her feet. “Looks to me as if this joyous woman has left herself free of earthly ties.”

“Good enough for me.” Conall said gruffly as he wrapped his mammoth hands around Colleen’s waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. “These people are just too careless. Have they completely forgotten the rules?” the disdain dripped from his voice.

Looking up at Andrew’s still body the goat asked his friend, “How shall we handle this one?”
The answer to Gaghar’s question came from a third voice; it was one that neither the goat nor Conall expected.

“I suppose you two are going to let me handle him.”

The big man sighed deeply and turned to face the old man that Andrew had chatted with earlier. “Are you going to cause me trouble, scurryvaig?”

The old man place two small logs he had tucked under his arms onto the floor and smiled. “I suppose I could. I’d offer up trouble as you plucked that lovely from her place without invoking the Treaty, as you should have. Sure, but I could let that go, if you leave this clean up to me.”

“Why should we?” Gaghar asked.

“I am offering to take a load of work off your hands, goat. Do you need a reason?”

Gaghar looked at Conall and Conall looked back at Gaghar. They both nodded.

“Done!” they both shouted and vanished into smoke, taking Colleen with them.

The old man shuffled over to Andrew and looked into his motionless eyes. “Well, I did try an warn you. Why your kind never listens to the old is a puzzle, but there is a thing I need doing so…”

The old man went outside for a moment and returned with a wheelbarrow and spent a few moments working Andrew’s body into it. He pushed it outside with a few grunts and groans and then returned to the frozen party.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small leather bag. The contents, a fine black powder, were spread out across the two logs that the old man had brought with him.

“I suppose you bits of wood should do for a few days,” he muttered following up with a soft musical chant that sounded old as stone. It was really a very simple trick and one that the old man knew well. Creating a passable changeling from a piece of stock was as simple for him as walking. He snapped his fingers and the wood was gone, replaced by what seemed to be Andrew and Colleen, smiling and very much in love.

“Good as gold.” He said and let time rush back to the party. The revelers and music began to free themselves from the invisible grasp, moving slowly at first, picking up speed, chasing the point in time they belonged in.

He smiled at a job well done and left the two pieces of wood to enjoy the party and the dancing.