The White Mare: The Dalraida Trilogy, Book One by Jules Watson Read Free Book Online Page B

mothers! But then Rhiann’s eyes fell on the men who followed: all hard-bitten warriors in their prime, with sinewed arms that spoke of constant swordplay, seamed with faded scars. Likewise, their armour and weaponry shone with careful burnishing, though their tunics and trousers showed the wear of the storm.
    Traders. Indeed.
    As the Epidii closed in behind the foreigners, Rhiann felt a soft touch on her hand. ‘Come,’ said Linnet, ‘walking will help your body to let go of the fear.’
    Until it comes again , Rhiann thought, but accepted the arm around her shoulders. After a few steps, she glanced up, bracing herself for the pityin Linnet’s eyes. Perversely, though she yearned for help from her aunt, she hated to be pitied.
    But Linnet’s face was white, with bright spots of rose on each cheek, and her eyes had deepened to a stormy grey. She was not looking at Rhiann at all. She was staring out to sea, past the last traces of smoke from the burning, her eyes glazed.
    And then Rhiann’s senses caught the smallest quiver of something else in her aunt; something entirely unexpected.
    Excitement.
    Eremon and his men were left alone in the funeral hut, with only one guard to watch over them. It was clear that guest laws were as sacred in Alba as in Erin. Strangers must eat before discussing their business: it was a rule that every tribe from Gaul to Erin held to.
    Cold meat in a cold dawn was not ideal, though better than stale bread. The others eagerly attacked the woven willow platter of deer flesh, but under the piercing black eyes of the warrior at the door, Eremon had little appetite.
    The wild blue tattoos curling up the man’s cheeks and around his eyes made him look as fierce as a charging boar. The effect was heightened by the long moustache that drooped over his mouth, and his hair, limed into stiff peaks. Eremon rubbed the stubble on his own chin, which was kept shaven among his people. Those blue markings must inspire fear in battle, but he’d rather keep his own face.
    Conaire had no such qualms about eating beneath those fierce eyes. He ripped off huge mouthfuls and chewed noisily, and Rori, Finan and the others followed his lead. Eremon leaned in to pick some pieces for Cù, who was laying under his feet. The hound gulped the meat from his fingers, coating them in drool.
    Eremon wiped his hand on his trousers and scanned the room.
    Despite his estimation that the Alban jewellery was not as ornate as his, nor their swords as fine, the walls of this hut were painted with beautifully-wrought symbols, and similar forms were sculpted into the roof-posts and beams. Some were animals: he could see the horse, the boar, and the stag, so real that their muscles flowed as if moving. Other symbols were unknown shapes; lines and curves that were also beautiful, yet meaningless to him. The same symbols were painted on a high table by the hearth, scattered with pots of fragrant oils, and dried petals of meadowsweet. There, the bier for the dead person had clearly laid.
    The guard moved, and the sunlight from the doorway glinted on his spear. Eremon frowned and shifted, conscious of his own sword’s weight by his side. He’d been furious about giving up their weapons, even though there was little choice. Many spears had been trained on them, and from the size of the warriors they were well within range. Ifonly he’d seen more clearly through that smoke, perhaps they could have landed somewhere else …
    So much for simple fisherfolk.
    He gnawed at his lip. It seemed he’d just brought his men from one danger straight to another. It was not the landing he’d imagined at all. And yet, the gods had brought him here, for the boat was driven helplessly before that storm. Were They plotting his glory, or his downfall?
    It is a test , he reminded himself. The gods demand proof of your bravery. Show yourself worthy, and you’ll be home next leaf-fall .
    The meat was almost gone when, from outside, he heard a burst of