The Skull of the World (16 page)

Isabeau lifted the little girl from Iseult's arms and cuddled her close. "This bonny lassie? I dinna believe it. She looks as if butter wouldna melt in her mouth."

Olwynne stared at her with suspicious black eyes, then reached out one fat little hand, seized the owl's talon hanging around Isabeau's neck, and smiled blissfully.

"Och, she's a wicked wee lass but sweet as honey," Iseult laughed, tousling her daughter's bronze-red curls.

"It doesna seem fair that the two boys should have Lachlan's wings but not wee Olwynne," Isabeau said. She glanced at Donncan, who was swooping around his father's head, his wings the same burnished gold as his curls. Owein, as red-headed as his twin, was bouncing up and down on Sukey's hip, his bronze-colored wings spread and testing the air. All three children had the distinctive white lock of the Mac-Cuinns springing from their brow, a sure sign that they had bonded with the Lodestar, the magical sphere that responded only to the hand of a Mac-Cuinn.

"Och, no doubt she'll have Talents o' her own," Meghan said, coming up beside them. She reached out one gnarled finger, hooting softly, and Buba rubbed her ear tufts against it, hooting back. "How can she no' with two such Talented parents?"

They all began to walk down the garden, talking companionably. Behind Lachlan walked his squire, Dillon. Isabeau hardly recognized the sturdy, freckle-faced lad she had known in this tall, powerfully built young man. He was dressed in the blue kilt and jacket of the Righ's own bodyguard, the plaid secured over his shoulder with a silver brooch depicting a charging stag. At his waist he wore a long sword with an intricately coiling hilt.

Behind them came the other witches, dressed now and their hair bound back as usual, with the Celes-tines all streaming behind them. The marks of their footsteps were dark in the dew-laden grass. The white-clad procession left the garden and plunged into the narrow hedge-lined corridors of the maze, the walls of yew high above their heads.

"I see ye are newly scarred," Iseult said softly. "I would ask o' you the story o' your name."

"I will gladly tell it," Isabeau answered in the language of the Khan'cohbans, sweeping her fingers to her brow, then to her heart, and then out to the tall yew hedge.

"Wait until we are alone," Iseult said softly. "There are many listening ears in the palace."

Isabeau nodded, casting her twin a quick glance.

A feast to celebrate the spring equinox had been set up in the great hall but to Isabeau's relief she was not expected to sit down with a horde of strangers. Sukey took her up to the royal suite and fed her bannocks with bellfruit jam and told her amusing tales about the children until Iseult and Lachlan could escape and join her.

When she had eaten Isabeau curled up in a big chair by the fire to rest while Sukey put the twins to bed. Although Iseult had ordered a room to be prepared for her, Isabeau was eager to tell the story of her adventures and planned to wait for the others before seeking her own bed.

It was quiet and peaceful in the royal drawing room, however, and so Isabeau soon slipped into sleep. She was woken some time later by the soft murmur of voices. Her eyelashes fluttered open.

Meghan was sitting in the armchair opposite, her hands resting idle on Gita's brown fur. Iseult had drawn up a chair beside her, while Lachlan was pacing up and down the room in his usual restless way, his kilt swinging.

"It is so hard to ken what we should do first," Lachlan was saying. "We have spent all winter building a fleet o' ships and now I am afraid to send them out in case they end up on the bottom o' the ocean like every other ship that has left safe harbor these past ten years. The Ship Tax has been unpopular indeed and I canna risk all the money we raised going on naught."

He paused to stand before the fire, lifting his kilt to warm his behind. Isabeau hastily shut her eyes.

"And o' course, everyone wants us to do something different," Lachlan continued. "Linley Mac-Seinn wants us to send the ships around to Carraig and win back the Tower o' Sea Singers from the Fair-gean, the merchants want us to wipe out the pirates and keep the trade routes free from sea serpents, and Iain and Elfrida want us to attack Bride. No matter what we do,
someone
is going to be unhappy. I just canna see my way clear, Meghan. Can ye no' advise me?"

The sorceress stroked Gita's fur, her face troubled.

"Happen we should try and find out who it is that is betraying us," Iseult said, her voice very cold. "It be no point making plans if our enemies ken them as well as we do ourselves."

Meghan sighed and Lachlan began to pace again. "I feel like a wounded sheep with a shriek o' grav-enings circling over me," he said then, his voice moody. "No matter what I do, I am beset by enemies on all sides. We cut off the head o' one faction and it sprouts two more, like a harlequin hydra . . ."

"The harlequin hydra. Symbol o' insurmountable opposition," Meghan said softly. "Cut off one head and another two grow."

Lachlan sat down heavily, his head in his hands.

"Och, we shall just have to overcome the harlequin hydra like your namesake, Lachlan the Navigator," the old sorceress said. "There is no point in falling into despair, lad. Iseult is right. If we discover who the spy in our ranks is, we may have a better chance in overcoming our other obstacles."

Lachlan made an impatient gesture. "Do ye think we have no' tried? Once we exiled Finlay, I thought we had done with spies and betrayers. Yet every time we move against the Bright Soldiers, they're waiting for us. I've lost so many good men in their bloody ambushes! And as if that was no' enough, every ship we send out has been lost because the blaygird pirates knew exactly what route we planned to sail. It's uncanny!"

"I ken all that," Meghan said, just as impatiently.

Lachlan got to his feet. He wandered around the room, fiddling with ornaments on the dresser, twitching aside the curtain and glancing outside, straightening a picture. Suddenly he came and sat back down again, looking directly at Isabeau. The color rose in her cheeks.

"So, we've woken, Beau," he said. "Why do ye no' tell us your news?"

Isabeau busied her hands by pulling at Buba's ear tufts, though the owl grumbled sleepily in protest. "I hardly ken where to start, so much has happened."

"Tell us about the Auld Ways," Lachlan commanded, just as Iseult said, "Tell us your new name!"

"Starting at the beginning is always a good idea," Meghan said.

It was far more difficult telling the story of her name quest this time, because both Lachlan and Meghan interrupted constantly with questions and exclamations. When Isabeau finally reached the part where she changed shape, both leaned forward, exclaiming with amazement. Lachlan was incredulous then excited, while Meghan's whole face glowed with pride and satisfaction.

"That's all there is to tell," she said at last. "I could no' fly down to Lucescere with Asrohc building her nest, so I made
Dai-dein
tell me how to travel the Auld Ways and came home that way."

"How did ye manage that?" Iseult said wryly. "I canna imagine a warrior o' the seven scars being made to do anything by a mere child."

"Child no longer,"
Isabeau
cried, lifting
her hand to trace her initiation scar.

"Still," Iseult said.

Isabeau grinned. "I tricked him into it."

"But ye have no' said much about the Auld Ways, Beau, only that Khan'gharad showed ye the way o' it. Canna ye tell me more?". Meghan asked.

Reluctantly Isabeau shook her head. "I am sworn to secrecy."

Irritation flashed across Meghan's face. "Surely, Beau, ye can tell me more than that. What are they? How do they work? Where do they run?"

With both Lachlan and Meghan's imperious gazes focused intently upon her face, the color rose high in Isabeau's cheeks but she shook her head again. "I'm sorry, but I swore a sacred oath. I canna tell."

"What do ye mean, ye canna tell?" Lachlan exclaimed. "Who is your loyalty to, Isabeau the Red?"

"It is no' my secret to tell," Isabeau protested, her cheeks scarlet. She glanced rather wildly at Meghan. "Why do ye no' ask Cloudshadow if ye are so desperate to ken? She is the one to ask, no' me."

"Cloudshadow will no' tell me either," Meghan snapped. "I have begged her many times to reveal the secret to me but she never will."

"So how can ye ask me to?" Isabeau cried. "It is a mystery o' the Celestines and I have no right to ken it myself. Humans have betrayed Celestines before, ye ken that better than anyone, Meghan. Ye shouldna be asking me!"

"Yet ye say yourself ye tricked your father into revealing the secret to ye," Lachlan said scornfully. "What right have ye to be so mealy-mouthed?"

"Happen it could save us all from much danger and trouble if we could use the faeries' roads," Iseult said persuasively. "Will ye no' help us, Beau?"

"I canna, I promised," Isabeau cried, tears very close to the surface.

"Do ye no' realize that your auld friend Dide may die because ye refuse to tell us!" Lachlan bent over her, his dark face suffused with anger and frustration.

"Why? Where is it that ye're sending him? Ye said before a dangerous journey—what dangerous journey?" Isabeau had to fight not to shrink back in her chair, intimidated by the great bulk of a man bending over her, his burly neck and chest, his great black wings, all his strength and regal power.

To her surprise and relief he stepped back, dropping his gaze. Then he said sullenly, "How am I to ken ye can be trusted, Isabeau?"

Cut to the quick, Isabeau could only stare at him. He went on inexorably. "Why should I tell ye our most secret plans when ye will no' tell us what ye ken? Ye were the one to befriend the Ensorcellor and offer her shelter. How do we ken she has no' cast her charm over ye and compels ye to do her bidding?"

Iseult protested but Lachlan would not be stopped. He said loudly, with a cruel edge to his voice, "We ken the spy must be someone close to us, for they are privy to all our most secret plans. Who is to say it is no' ye, Isabeau?"

Meghan cried, "That's enough, Lachlan!" and Iseult leaped to her feet, her face white with anger. Isabeau said with a tremble in her voice, "But I have no' been here."

"Nay, ye have no', have ye?" Lachlan replied coolly. "While we have been here fighting impossible odds ye have been off, safe in the mountains, riding dragons and playing with owls. We ask o' ye just one wee thing to tell us something that ye ken could help us enormously, and ye refuse to help."

"But I swore an oath," Isabeau said helplessly, tears rising in her eyes. Gita soared over to comfort her, chittering in distress, while Buba hooted softly and rubbed her head against Isabeau's hand.

Iseult knelt next to her and took her hand, saying over her shoulder, "Lachlan, how can ye say such things? Ye ken Isabeau is loyal and true."

"Nay, I do no'," Lachlan answered, his angry color beginning to fade. "I thought Finlay loyal and true, I thought all my men were. Now I can believe treachery o' anyone. I meant what I said about Maya. Isabeau sheltered her for close on a year. We ken the cursehag has the strongest and most subtle compulsion o' will o' any witch we've ever kent. How can ye be sure Isabeau was no' ensorcelled by her?"

To Isabeau's dismay no one said anything. She knew they were thinking of Latifa and Lachlan's brother Jaspar, both of whom had succumbed to Maya's charm despite their own strength. Isabeau pushed away Iseult's hand and got to her feet, her vision so obscured by tears that she could hardly see straight. "I only sheltered Maya so I could break the curse she'd cast on ye," Isabeau said, knowing as she said this that it was not the entire truth. "I do no' ken where she has gone or what she is doing now. I have had no communication with her since she left the secret valley. And even if I had, I would never do anything to betray ye or the Coven." Her voice broke.

"Oh, Beau," Meghan said gently. "Lachlan . . ."

"I ken, I ken," he answered in exasperation. He put out his hand and grasped her arm, keeping her still. "I'm sorry, Isabeau. Do no' be so much upset. I was simply trying to make ye see, make ye all see ..."

The touch of his hand on her arm undid her. Worn out by the exertions of the night, Isabeau was unable to control the shuddering sobs that rose up and choked her. "Ye . . . think I ... I would never . . . How could ye ... ?" She could not get the words out.

Lachlan pulled her close. Isabeau could not resist the temptation to rest her head against his shoulder, muffling her sobs against his shirt. Under her cheek his muscles shifted, the soft silk of his midnight-black feathers brushing against her. "I'm sorry," he said awkwardly, lowering his head to try and see her face. "I did no' mean to hurt ye. Please stop greeting. Canna ye see I was just trying to prove a point?"

Isabeau rubbed her face with one hand. "I would never . . ."

"I ken, I ken." He patted her back. "I'm sorry. I shouldna have said anything. I was angry. It was just that ye ken something that could make such a difference to us and ye will no' tell. I shouldna have lost my temper, though. I'm sorry."

Isabeau looked up at him, her hand resting on his chest, then suddenly she pushed herself away. She wiped her face with her fingers, turning away so they could not see her face. "I'm sorry too," she said, trying to swallow her tears.

Lachlan had turned away also, staring moodily into the fire. "I did no' mean to sound as if I thought ye were the spy, Isabeau," he said curtly. "I ken it canna be ye anyway. Ye do no' ken any o' our secret plans."