Dragonfire by Anne Forbes Read Free Book Online

clear blue eyes, “like an eagle, but its feathers were …” her nose wrinkled in disgust, “… they were horrible … like dirty, smelly rags …”
    Her voice tailed off as she realized that silence had fallen throughout the great hall.
    The MacArthur sat stiffly upright, a sudden, stern look on his face that frightened her. It was Hamish who eventually broke the silence.
    â€œAmgarad!” he said aloud, in an awed whisper. “It must be. I can’t quite believe it but …” he looked round wildly, “she’s describing Amgarad!” He looked at the MacArthur and threw out his hands in disbelief. “After all this time! Master, how is it possible?”
    The MacArthur raised his hand to quieten the spate of words.
    â€œFirst of all let us listen to what the Ranger has to say, Hamish,” he said, turning to the Ranger, his face serious andstrained. “Tell me the story of this attack, Ranger, and miss nothing out, for it’s important that we hear every detail.”
    The Ranger retold the story of how he had followed the children and they, in turn, told their tale of the mist and the attack by Amgarad at the well.
    â€œWas it only the bird you saw?” pressed the MacArthur. “You didn’t see anyone else?”
    As Neil shook his head the MacArthur sat back among the pile of cushions that heaped his chair and looked at Hamish thoughtfully.
    â€œHow very interesting that Amgarad should be here. I wonder how … and why?”
    â€œAnd Lord Rothlan?” queried Hamish, walking agitatedly up and down in front of him. “If one is here, then the other must be here, too.”
    â€œOne would think so,” frowned the MacArthur, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “and yet, perhaps not.”
    Sir James coughed. “Who is this Lord Rothlan? May we know?”
    The MacArthur regarded him sombrely. “Alasdair Rothlan was, at one time, one of the most powerful and popular faery lords of the Highlands but he fell out of favour years ago when Prince Charles Edward Stuart came from France to claim the throne.”
    â€œThe Jacobite Rebellion of 1745!” Neil interrupted.
    â€œAs you say,” agreed the MacArthur. “The Jacobite Rebellion. Ach, it was ill-fated from the start and the Prince was badly advised but, as faeries, we naturally supported the Scottish House of Stuart. One of the Lords of the North, Kalman Meriden, was Bonnie Prince Charlie’s strongest supporter, but Rothlan had no respect for the Prince and it was mainly because of him that the rebellion failed. Kalman was furious with Rothlan for betraying the faery cause and summoned the Council to judge him. Rothlan was exiled for the part he played and since then his lands have been ringed by magic. It is here,in the hill that we hold the set of fabulous firestones whose spell keeps the ring of power round Jarishan.”
    â€œJarishan?” queried Sir James.
    â€œRothlan’s great estate. It was once a place of great beauty but what it will be like now, I cannot tell. The sun never shines there and his famous eagles, his messengers of the skies … well, they were changed to travesties of their former majesty. That I didn’t agree to, as they had done their master’s bidding and the fault wasn’t theirs, but Prince Kalman and the Lords of the North were adamant and I was outvoted. So the eagles became monstrous things, doomed to suffer with their master. As for Alasdair Rothlan; well, he was cut off completely from then on. I’ve never seen him since.”
    â€œBut surely,” Neil said doubtfully, “he must be hundreds of years old by now? And you …?” he broke off in embarrassment.
    The MacArthur smiled. “By your time, I suppose, we are really quite ancient,” he admitted. “But we’re faeries, you see. We don’t age in the same way you do. Our time is different from yours. Alasdair