The Pool of Two Moons by Kate Forsyth Read Free Book Online Page A

no' think so!
    Darksome Light And Shining Night
    Dillon the Bold crawled on his stomach towards the ridge, motioning to his lieutenants to keep down, then raised his head to peer over the edge. The path that ran along the fast-paced Muileach River was empty of all life as far as he could see. He waited for a few minutes, listening and watching, then pursed up his lips and whistled, three ascending notes like a bluecap swift. Immediately his second-in-command, Jay the Fiddler, beckoned forward the group of ragged children crouched behind a boulder to the rear. They hurried forward, leading a feeble old man in beggar's robes, whose long, knotted beard was thrust through a belt of rope. He tapped his way across the rough ground with a tall staff, his eyes white and clouded.
    "The path is clear ahead, Master, I think it be safe for us to scoot ahead," Dillon said, caressing the black-patched head of his shaggy puppy.
    "That be good," Jorge the Seer replied, turning his blind head. "Tonight is the spring equinox and I really think we should hold the rites and do a sighting, though it troubles me to open myself so wide here in the wilderness. If any soldiers be near and see us, they'll know we are following the auld ways and then we'll be in trouble indeed."
    "Do no' fear, Master, we shall guard ye and keep ye safe."
    "Thank ye, I know ye shall," the old seer replied with no trace of irony in his voice. After the last few weeks traveling in the company of Dillon the Bold and his gang of beggar children, he knew they would care for him with great efficiency.
    Jorge had first met the children in the slums of Lu-cescere, where they had helped him and his young acolyte Tomas escape the, clutches of the Anti-Witchcraft League. The little boy had the miraculous ability to heal by his touch alone, and had drawn the seekers' attention by curing those incarcerated in the Awl's dungeons. Word of the miracle had spread quickly, and riots against the much-despised Awl had broken out. Led by the sturdy, shock-haired Dillon, who was known then by his nickname Scruffy, the beggar children had led the city soldiers in circles while Jorge and Tomas fled into the mountains. Grateful to Dillon for his help, Jorge had suggested he join their travels but had not expected the beggar boy to accept on behalf of the entire gang.
    Jorge had found himself quite unable to tell the ragged, dirty children to return to the slums of Lucescere, however. He had grown up in those alleyways himself. He knew just how harsh a life it was. No matter how arduous traveling through the countryside might be, or how dangerous, the children would be safer with him than living wild off the streets of Lucescere.
    After a week in the company of the League of the Healing Hand, as they now called themselves, Jorge had to admit that, rather than the children being under his protection, he was under theirs. Dillon the Bold was the leader of the League, of course, and he had deployed . his troops with the ingenuity and expertise of a battle-seasoned general. Although he had lived all his life in the city's slums, several of his gang had been brought up in the country and he had grilled them to find out everything they knew about hunting and tracking in the countryside.
    False trails were laid, their tracks covered, roots and berries gathered, camping spots found, snares set for coneys and birds, and patrols ordered to scour the land ahead and behind. Only the eldest girl, Johanna, an anxious-looking waif with long plaits of mousy brown, had begged to be let off the scouting parties, content to forage for food and cook them messy meals instead.
    Within days the city of Lucescere had been left far behind, the green foothills steepening into sharp cliffs and ravines filled with forest and the tinkling of waterfalls. Sharp pointed mountains rose on either side, while the river snaked through a deep gorge that forced the small band of travelers to stay on the narrow path. The main problem