The Dark Mirror by Juliet Marillier Read Free Book Online

side. He triednot to see the form of that other man lying not far off with his head on a strange angle. Donal was sitting on the ground; his eyes were closed and his face was the color of last week’s porridge. There was quite a lot of blood on his shoulder and upper arm, and he had Bridei’s small knife held loosely in his right hand.
    “I’m sorry,” Bridei said solemnly, and gave a monumental sniff. “It was theother man I meant to hit, the one who was trying to shoot me.”
    Donal’s eyes flew open. His mouth stretched in a grin and he half rose to hisfeet, then subsided again with a groan. “Blessed All-Flowers be praised! Where were you, you wee—in there? How can that be? Yon crack’s not wide enough to admit a half-grown pup, let alone a great lad like you! I can’t credit it!”
    It was true. The openinglooked hardly big enough for him to fit one shoulder through, let alone the rest of him. No wonder that man had failed to reach him with the sword . . . The thought of that slashing, rending blade made Bridei feel suddenly odd, and he sat down abruptly by Donal’s side.
    “Tell me.” Donal’s voice had changed again; now he really was angry, but Bridei sensed it was not for him. “Tell me what happenedhere, lad. All of it, every detail, everything you saw.”
    “You’re bleeding,” Bridei said. “I know how to tie a bandage, Broichan showed me. I’ll do that now, and then I’ll tell you while we go home. You should have a poultice of wormwood and rue, and drink mead, and go to bed early. That’s what my foster father would say”
    Donal regarded him in silence.
    “I’m sorry I hurt you,” Bridei said oncemore, and felt his lower lip tremble ominously.
    “Oh, aye,” said Donal, his voice oddly constrained again. “I think the usual thing is to rip up a shirt or two. It’ll have to be yours; I can’t get mine off over this shoulder. But make sure you put your jacket back on straight away, it’s cold up here. And get on with it, will you? That mead’s beginning to sound very good.”

I T HAD BEEN A mistake, Donal said. It was Broichan whom the fellow and his companions were trying to harm, not Bridei. Bridei knew this was wrong. He had seen the expression in that man’s narrowed eyes, had watched as his finger tightened on the bowstring. Broichan did have enemies. A man who is everybody’s friend has no need of guards on the perimeters of his property, or doors with bolts. Perhapsthose attackers were the druid’s foes, but the one they wanted to kill was Bridei. Why, he could not tell. His father was a king, certainly, but Gwynedd was a distant place with its own councils, its own wars, far removed from the realms of the Priteni. Besides, his father had sent him away. If he’d been of any special importance, surely his family would have kept him. The attack just didn’tmake sense.
    The man Donal had killed was buried in a corner of the sheep yard. Others, sighted from Broichan’s guardposts, had escaped into the forest despite energetic pursuit by the druid’s men at arms. They remained unaccounted for, their mission and origins a mystery. Donal cursed that the fellow had obliged him to kill or be killed; he’d rather have bruised the other a little, trussed himup and got the truth out of him one way or another. Too late now; the gray-clad man could only tell his story to the worms.
    Bridei was no longer permitted to wander on his own, but must go accompanied by at least two of the guards, and only when there was a realneed for it. The daily rides were curtailed, for Donal was much occupied. Tense exchanges in lowered voices were frequent, and all themen had a guarded, edgy look about them. Mara muttered over the washtub. Ferat cursed as he plucked geese, and Bridei learned new words, which he did not repeat. He spent a lot of time in the stables grooming Pearl and talking to her, for her warm body and sweet, accepting eyes made her a good companion, as horses went. In the