Fallowblade by Cecilia Dart-Thornton Read Free Book Online

skewered if we obey orders,’ Grak said to Scroop out of the side of his mouth.
    Scroop blinked two of his eyes and nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he replied in his peculiar, high-pitched voice. ‘Kings’ war boys got wicked weapons. Skewered, all right.’
    ‘Don’t wanna get skewered.’
    ‘Nope.’
    ‘Captin’s takin’ us north, inta Narngalis, inta the ’ome territory of the Narngalishes .’
    ‘Them with reel sharp swords.’
    ‘We ortta disguise ourselves. Ittud be safer.’
    ‘Yeah.’
    They scratched their flea-bitten ears.
    The same stars glittering peacefully above the caverns of the Marauders also glimmered above the city of King’s Winterbourne. Their light silver-plated the basalt battlements of Wyverstone Castle. Within that fortress much urgent discussion was taking place. Royal personages were consulting with advisors, secretaries of state, bailiffs and other well-informed members of the household. Around this inner conclave soared oak-panelled walls, detailed in gilt and hung with crimson damask. Through traceried windows the stars were shining, but it was lamplight that sparkled upon the gold-threaded fabrics and jewellery of the room’s occupants.
    Asr ă thiel was present, clad in a travelling cloak almost as blue as her eyes, and a square-necked gown of brocade. Upon her head she wore a stiffened coif whose front edge was decorated by a band of fine silverwork set with moonstones. The white jewel that had belonged to her mother glistened on a fine chain hanging about her neck. In honour of her parents she had taken to wearing it; a token of her father who wandered afar in mapless marches, and her mother, safe at home but doomed to sleep endlessly, high against the wind-scoured alpine sky in a glass cupola fretted with roses.
    The damsel had just received a semaphore message from her grandfather at High Darioneth, the contents of which she made known to the conclave. Uabhar’s display of military aggression had confirmed Avalloc’s suspicions. Like Asr ă thiel, he and the few remaining weathermasters were now convinced that the King of Slievmordhu had captured their kinsfolk; that he was holding them prisoner, bound and gagged, so that they would be unable to use their powers to interfere in the conflict. The first investigators Avalloc had despatched from Rowan Green had mysteriously failed to return. Since then the Storm Lord had sent a second company of daring and capable men on a mission to infiltrate the palace at Cathair Rua, by use of deception, or disguise, or whatever means were required. They intended, if necessary, to break into Uabhar’s very dungeons. To locate the captives and set them free was their purpose.
    ‘Even if this rescue expedition meets with no success, my kinsmen will surely find a way to escape,’ Asr ă thiel said to King Warwick and his two sons. ‘Surely Uabhar cannot keep their hands and tongues immobile forever. A few words, a slight movement of the fingers will be all that is needed to command the brí, then wind and fire and water will burst lock and key asunder! When we have defeated Ó Maoldúin I will destroy his dungeons. How dare he treat my kinsmen so foully! Let us to the battle front forthwith!’
    ‘We ride south this night for the Eldroth Fields,’ said the king, ‘but you, Asr ă thiel, will not accompany us. I would fain keep you safe from the fighting. You must remain here at the castle. If my troops cannot achieve victory on the field without your aid, we do not deserve to win.’
    ‘What? By your leave, Majesty, I yearn to avenge the wrong done to Rowan Green!’
    ‘Rest assured, I will send for you if needs be.’
    ‘Harm cannot be done to me.’ It cost the damsel dearly to reconfirm the qualities that set her apart from the rest of the human race, especially in front of Prince William, whose sudden recollection of her immortality was manifested only in a flicker of his facial muscles. ‘I beg of you, my liege—’
    Warwick cut short Asr