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He slowed his pace a bit, cocked his head at Teagan. “So, how does our Slaine feel about all this then?”
Teagan looked down at the mare, cocked her head in turn. “Oh, it’s a grand adventure to her, to be sure, and she never thought to have another. She’s proud and she’s grateful. She’ll be loyal to the end of her days, and do her very best for you.”
“And I’ll do my best for her. We’ll ride through midday before we stop to rest the horses, and eat the first of the oatcakes Ailish packed for us.”
“Is that what we’ll be doing?” Brannaugh said.
He tossed up his chin. “You’re the eldest, but I have the staff, however puny you might think it is—which it isn’t at all. Roibeard shows the way, and we follow.”
Brannaugh looked up, watched the flight of the hawk. Then down at Kathel who pranced along beside Alastar as if he could walk all day and through the night.
“Your guide, mine, and Teagan’s. Aye, we follow. Ailish gave me some coin, but we won’t be spending it unless we must. We’ll be making our own.”
“And just h
ow are we doing that?”
“By being what we are.” She lifted her hand, palm up, brought a small ball of flame into it. Then vanished it. “Our mother served her gift, tended us, her cabin. We can surely serve our gift, tend ourselves, and find a place to do both.”
“Clare’s a wild place I hear,” Teagan offered.
“And what better place than the wild for such as us?” The pure joy of freedom ripened with every step. “We have our mother’s book, and we’ll study, we’ll learn. We’ll make potions and do healings. A healer is always welcome, she told me.”
“When he comes, it will take more than healing and potions.”
“So it will,” Brannaugh said to her brother. “So we learn. We were safe five years at the farm. If our guides lead us to Clare, as it seems they will, we may have the next five there. Time enough to learn, to plan. When we go home again, we’ll be stronger than he can know.”
They rode through midday and into the rain. Soft and steady it fell from a sky of bruises and broodings. They rested the horses, watered them, shared oatcakes, with some for Kathel.
Through the rain came the wind as they continued their journey, past a little farm and cabin with smoke puffing out of the chimney, sending out the scent of burning peat. Inside they might be welcome, be given tea and a place by the fire. Inside the warm and dry.
But Kathel continued to prance, Roibeard to circle, and Alastar never slowed.
And even the gloomy light began to die as the day tipped toward night.
“Slaine grows weary,” Teagan murmured. “She won’t ask to stop, but she tires. Her bones ache. Can’t we rest her a bit, find a dry place and—”
“There!” Eamon pointed ahead. Near the muddy track stood what might have been an old place of worship. Sacked now, burned down to the scorched stone by men who couldn’t stop destroying what those they vanquished had built.
Roibeard circled over it, calling, calling, and Kathel bounded ahead.
“We’ll stop there for the night. Make a fire, rest the animals and ourselves.”
Brannaugh nodded at her brother. “The walls stand—or most of them. It should keep the wind out, and we can do the rest. It’s nearly end of day. We owe Mordan and Mabon who came from her our thanks.”
One wall had fallen in, they discovered, but the others stood. Even some steps, which Eamon immediately tested, circled up to what had been a second level. Whatever timber had been used had burned to ashes and blown to the winds. But it was shelter of a sort and, Brannaugh felt, the right place.
This would be the place of their first night, the equinox, when the light and the dark balanced.
“I’ll tend the horses.” Teagan took the reins of both. “The horses are mine, after all. I’ll see to them, if you make us a place, a dry spot I’m hoping, and a good fire.”
“That I’ll do. We’ll give our thanks, then have some tea and some of the dried venison before we—”
She broke off as Roibeard swooped down, perched on a narrow stone ledge.
And dropped a fat hare on the ground at Eamon’s feet.
“Well now, that’s a feast in the making. I’ll clean it, Teagan tends the horses, and Brannaugh the fire.”
