The Giants' Dance by Robert Carter Read Free Book Online

a lord of the Blessed Isle, and a great builder of castles. Once drained, the battlestones are changed from deadly to mildly benign. Once the harm is gone there remains a small residue of kindness that works much as a charm does. I believe the stone will sit well once it is mortared into the ramparts of Cormac’s castle of An Blarna.’
    â€˜What power will it confer, there? Invulnerability?’
    â€˜Ha! Not that. Cormac will have to look to his own security as ever he did. But now he will be able to defend himself with the gift of diplomacy, for it seems that this particular stump gives those who touch it a fine way with words.’
    â€˜Then you yourself must have slept seven nights upon it, I’d say.’
    Gwydion laughed. ‘Did I never tell you that mockery is a very childish skill? I will have you know that many is the night since last we met when I have wished myself upon a bed that was as soft as a castle parapet.’
    â€˜I’m wishing myself abed at this very moment.’ Will stretched again and yawned. ‘As sorry as I am for your poor old spine, it’s time I rested mine. I really should be going home.’
    At this Gwydion looked silently away, and Will knew the wizard had more to say for himself. They sat until theskylarks began singing, until the eastern sky had turned a fragile blue above the pale mists of a summer dawn. Long, low streamers of cloud hovered close by the eastern horizon, as pink as the boiled flesh of a salmon. They turned slowly to fiery gold as the sun rose to burn off night mists that still clung to the land.
    â€˜Did you ever find the Black Book?’ Will asked, meaning the ancient scroll that Gwydion had often spoken about, the one that told of the history of the battlestones.
    The wizard stiffened. ‘I did not, and perhaps I never will. But I have not been idle. I have learned something of what the Black Book might once have contained. There are here and there snippets to be found, lines taken from fragments, copies of copies, translations made from memory long after the Black Book was lost. My gleanings have been meagre; still they have given me some much-needed clues regarding how best to set about the perilous task of draining a battlestone.’
    â€˜Surely you don’t think—’
    â€˜My first attempt was foolhardy. I am aware of that now. But if I had been wiser sooner, then I should not have done as I did. And where would that have left us?’
    Will grunted. ‘All decisions must be made on the basis of imperfect knowledge, I suppose.’
    The wizard’s chin jutted. ‘I will say that now I believe I have almost learned enough to try again.’
    There was a noise then, and Will turned. ‘Look! The Sister. She stirs.’
    They went to attend the Wise Woman as she came out of sleep. First her eyes opened and rolled in her head, then she struggled weakly and spoke like one in a fever. Gwydion lifted her head and made her drink from a small leather bottle. Then he said firmly, ‘Where are you from, Sister?’
    â€˜My home is at Fossewyke, Master,’ she said in the voice of a young girl.
    â€˜That is by Little Slaughter, is it not?’
    Her eyes roamed, but then she said, ‘Yes, Master. It is in the vale of the Eyne Brook.’
    â€˜Well, get you home now without delay. Do not eat or drink again until night falls. By which time you will be wholly yourself again. Do you promise to do as I bid you?’
    â€˜Yes, Master.’
    Will hid the sheathed blade away from her as Gwydion pointed a warning finger in her face. ‘To thine own self be true – now promise me that also.’
    â€˜I promise, Master.’
    â€˜Go now! Prosper under the sky, and do not be tempted to meddle again with crafts that lie beyond your scope.’
    And with that the Sister rose to her feet and skipped away as briskly as a lamb, leaving Will in awe of the power that lay in Gwydion’s