Firebrand (23 page)

‘You did well,’ she said.

I muttered something incoherent, too surprised to be gracious.

She examined one of her ragged fingernails, and tore it off with her teeth. ‘Your brother was conscious an hour ago. He wanted to see you. Murlainn.’ The name sounded awkward on her tongue, but she gave me a sudden grin. Then she straightened and stiffened.

I turned to look at the doorway. The girl sidled close against me, and for a moment I had an urge to clasp her hand to reassure her. Fortunately I got my wits together in time to restrain myself. Beside me even Sionnach stood straighter.

Leonora stepped just inside the workshop, her eyes on me. She looked thin and tense from the effort of staying in the world, yet she didn’t look as if she was going to leave it any time soon. In her beautiful face her eyes were haggard, but still hard. Her hair had grown back past her shoulders, and was drawn back in elaborate silver clasps. The raven sat on her shoulder, basalt eyes locked on mine.

‘Murlainn,’ she said.

‘Leonora.’

She stepped sideways, examining me. I didn’t move but my eyes followed her.

‘A little faster on the trigger, Murlainn,’ she said, ‘and you’d be Captain of this dun and the heir of Griogair.’

‘I know that,’ I said. I could feel Sionnach’s cool anger, and the girl at my side pressed her body closer against me, touching my fist with her thin hand. I was grateful to him, but I shook the girl off. I didn’t need her support. She was getting embarrassing.

The raven crooned hoarsely, tilting its head, and Branndair snarled back at it, his hackles up. Leonora half-smiled.

‘Thank you,’ she said coolly, ‘for being slow.’

She turned on her heel and stalked outside, and the raven took off into the sky, soaring and turning till it was a scrap of black on the wind. Raineach released a breath, and a shiver rippled through Sionnach. He shook himself in annoyance.

‘That’s as good as you’ll get from her,’ he muttered.

‘Better than he might have expected,’ said Raineach crisply. ‘Go to your brother.’

The girl followed me, again, but this time I turned on the stone steps that led to Conal’s rooms and told her to stay where she was. I told her it in the same voice I told Branndair, only harsher. Giving me a dry look, Sionnach stayed with her, murmuring reassurance as she watched me go. I wondered, idly, if he wanted her. It would be a strange sort of wanting if he did.

There were guards on Conal’s door, but I didn’t even have to speak to them; they stood aside and one of them jerked his head to tell me to go on. Inside,
Conal lay on his side, his fingers clutching the pillow and his hollow eyes closed, but he opened them as soon as I closed the door. He stared at the wall.

‘Seth,’ he said, still not looking at me.

‘You should sleep,’ I said.

‘I will. I wouldn’t let them give me sleep till I’d seen you.’

‘The gods know why you’re even awake.’

He turned his head at last, shaven and hacked and bruised, and dragged himself up to look at me, propping his weight on one trembling arm. I swallowed.

‘Lie down,’ I said, ‘for gods’ sake.’

‘Get your disobedient arse over here.’

I did. I sat down on the edge of the bed. He gripped my head in one hand and hugged me against him. It was too much of an effort for him, I could feel it, so I put my arms round him and held him fiercely.

‘I wanted to check,’ he muttered. ‘I wanted to make sure. I thought I might have imagined you. I don’t remember coming home.’

‘Aye. Your mind’s going. That’s why.’

‘They told me they’d got you. They said they were going to kill you. But not for a while.’ His arms tightened around me; his stubbly beard scratched my cheek and I could feel his warm tears trickling into my hair. ‘I thought you were worse than dead.’

‘They lied,’ I said.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘Now.’

We held one another in silence. I was remembering. He was trying not to.

‘Catriona,’ he said. ‘Did she make it over? Is she all
right?’

I drew away. I was still angry with him about that. ‘I could have taken you out of there that night, if you’d left her.’

‘Uh-huh. Like you left Ma Sinclair.’

I couldn’t think of a retort, so I made a face.

‘You couldn’t have got me out, Seth. And you know I couldn’t leave Catriona.’

‘She wasn’t even worth the risk,’ I grumbled. ‘She won’t live much longer anyway. Twenty years at most? That’s if she’s lucky.’

‘Their lives are short,’ said Conal. ‘It means a lot to her.’

‘And she means nothing to us.’

He sighed, and rubbed his eyes.

‘Sleep,’ I said. ‘You haven’t got the strength to hit me.’

He gave me one of his old looks, and smiled. I put my hand against his scarred head and pressed it gently back onto the pillow. He was asleep in seconds.

I left my hand against his face, stroking his sunken temple and the beard growth that was longer than his hair. For a second, I shut my eyes and saw the might-have-been.

You could be Captain of this dun
, Leonora had said.
Captain of this dun, and the heir of Griogair
.

Witch.

‘So who’s your shadow?’

I squinted up into the evening sunlight. As Eili sat down beside me we both glanced at Catriona. She was sitting twenty yards away, her arms locked tightly round her knees, watching the life of the dun go on around her.

‘That’s the girl,’ I said shortly. ‘She was with Conal.’

‘She doesn’t say much.’

‘She doesn’t say anything.’

‘Strange,’ said Eili.

‘Not really. They tortured her and then they tried to burn her. What do you want?’ I couldn’t help sounding bitter.

Eili looked at the ground. ‘I’m sorry, Seth. I’m sorry I was horrible to you this morning.’

I hesitated, a little too long. ‘That’s all right.’

‘I know you couldn’t have come, the time might have slipped. We could have gone to him right then, and found he’d been dead for months.’

‘Years,’ I said.

‘Yes. I know that, and I didn’t mean to be so short with you. I was worried about Conal, that’s all.’

‘So was I.’

She flushed a colour that clashed with her hair. ‘Yes. I know. We treated you badly.’

I opened my mouth to say
No, you didn’t
. Instead I said, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘I know what you did for him. Everyone knows.’

‘Including Leonora.’ I gave a short laugh. ‘I wonder what it is, precisely, that she’ll never forgive me for?’

Eili shrugged. ‘Being born.’

There was no answer to that.

‘It’s pretty ironic,’ she added. ‘I mean, her own daughter wasn’t Griogair’s. That never bothered Griogair. Why would it?’

I blinked. ‘Leonora has a daughter?’

‘Reultan. Didn’t you know?’ I couldn’t miss the way her eyes lit up with stars.

‘Anything like her mother?’ I said scornfully.

‘She’s nicer. She’s beautiful. She’s very brave. And she’s a fantastic fighter.’

‘You could say all that about Leonora.’

Eili wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes, but Reultan isn’t a witch.’

‘It runs in the family.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ she said crossly. ‘It’s a choice.’

‘All right. The potential runs in the family.’ I hesitated. ‘Does Leonora scare you?’

‘Of course she does. Doesn’t she scare you too?’

‘No.’ That was a lie. The truth was she terrified me, and that made me angry. ‘Where is this Reultan then? I’ve never met her.’

‘You probably have. She’s in Kate’s court.’

I wondered which of the beautiful cold-eyed hard-faced courtiers she was. ‘That figures.’

‘Stop it, Murlainn. Conal’s very fond of her. He saw a lot of her when he was one of Kate’s captains.’

‘Aye, and where was she when he was exiled?’

Eili took out a dirk and a whetstone, and intently began to sharpen the blade. ‘Do you like it?’ She held the dirk out for my admiration. It was light and slender, the hilt elaborately carved but comfortable in her grip. ‘I’m apprenticed to Raineach. She says I’m good.’

‘It’s beautiful.’ It was. ‘Why didn’t Reultan object when her brother was exiled?’

‘Look, she was away fighting. She’s not like Lilith, she doesn’t just give her precious opinions. She fights too.’

‘How do you know what she was doing?’

Eili sighed. ‘I asked about her. I’d wondered the same.’ She added belligerently, ‘And she’s my friend. I like her.’

All right. I bit my lip to stop myself making any more cattish remarks, but I couldn’t let it go. ‘So what did she think about the exile?’

‘She was very upset. That’s what I heard. But she can’t be disloyal to Kate.’

‘Seems nobody can,’ I muttered.

‘Murlainn…’

‘What did she think of the
reason
for the exile?’

Eili scraped the whetstone too hard along the knife edge, her fingers trembling.

I was growing angry too, so I pushed it. ‘You blame my mother, don’t you? It was Kate who cut him, Eili. Not Lilith.
Kate
.’

‘Lilith would have gutted him!’

‘So would Kate, if she thought she could get away with it!’

‘Seth, don’t you…’

‘She knew she couldn’t do it but she wanted to. She’d have had him gralloched if…’

‘Shut up!’ She snapped her head round to glare at me, and the knife slipped off the whetstone, slicing open the base of her thumb. Blood spurted.

‘Eili!’ Swearing, I grabbed her hand, pressing my fingers against the cut. ‘I’m sorry, I…’

‘I’m all right. I’m all right!’ She wrenched her hand from my grasp. ‘Don’t make a fuss.’

She scrabbled backwards and turned away from me but I saw her quite distinctly. I saw her touch the gash with tentative fingertips, then grasp the ugly lips of the wound and squeeze them hard together. When she’d done it she turned back, her palm clasped over the wound. Her hands were wet with blood but it had stopped flowing. I reached for her hand and yanked it away, taking her so much by surprise that she didn’t resist.

‘Eili,’ I said.

‘What? Get away! I told you, don’t fuss.’

‘Who’s fussing?’ I was as angry as she was. ‘No need to fuss, is there? You’re not going to bleed to death when you’re a healer. A
true-born
healer.’

Her pale skin reddened again. ‘Don’t tell anyone, Seth. I swear, if you do…’

‘Why wouldn’t I tell anyone?’ My eyes widened. ‘You’re not saying nobody knows?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. Keep your mouth shut.’

‘But Sionnach must know…’

‘
Sionnach
knows how to keep his mouth shut.’

‘Sionnach has trouble doing anything else,’ I snapped. ‘What’s your problem?’

‘Just don’t tell!’ She jumped to her feet and stormed off towards the stables. I wasn’t letting her get away with it, so I followed. For once the maddening full-mortal girl stayed where she was, though she watched from her quiet corner.

In the coolness of the stable I grabbed Eili’s shoulder, and she flung me off, but not before I’d seen the tears in her eyes. I backed off as she slumped down onto a haybale, ducking her head.

‘Eili,’ I said more gently. ‘What are you ashamed of? You’ll be the toast of every detachment. It’s a wonderful talent.’

‘No, it isn’t.’

‘When did you find out?’

‘Too late,’ she said.

And I realised that of course she was thinking about Sionnach. I sat down beside her, risking an arm around her, and my heart floated when she leaned miserably into the hollow of my shoulder.

‘There’s nothing you could have done,’ I said.

‘How do you know? Maybe there was. Maybe it was there all the time and I wasn’t paying attention. Maybe my head was too full of swords and horses and…’ She clamped her lips tightly together.

And Conal, I thought, but I wasn’t angry enough now to let her hear it. ‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. ‘It comes when it comes. Grian didn’t know till he was ninety years old, I heard him say so, and he’s the best healer in the dun.’

‘Not any more,’ she said.

I didn’t know what to say to that kind of certainty. ‘Well. That healer of Kate’s couldn’t do much for Sionnach.’

‘I’m better than him,’ she said, and despite her misery there was an undercurrent of pride in her voice. ‘I’m a hundred times better. It’s so strong in me, Seth. If it had happened today I could have healed Sionnach and he’d barely have a scar.’

I doubted that, but I didn’t say so. ‘It didn’t happen today. It happened two years ago.’

‘I could have helped my brother,’ she insisted stubbornly. ‘If I’d known.’

‘Eili. He’s not that bothered, you know.’

‘I am.’ To my horror she started to weep.

I didn’t know what to do. I stroked her hair, first lightly and then more strongly, and she pressed her face to my chest, mortified by her own tears. I felt her body convulse as she fought to get a hold of herself and master her rage. At last she calmed and stilled, and she sighed and pulled away a little. She managed to glance up at me. ‘Thanks, Seth. Don’t tell anyone.’

About the healing, I wondered? Or about the crying?

‘About either,’ she said.

Her face was tilted towards me, her eyes still misty from unfamiliar tears, so I kissed her.

I couldn’t not kiss her. I sensed her shock, but that I could understand. When she drew back I twisted my fingers into her chopped hair and held her, desperately keeping her close and kissing her again. My hand
brushed her breast, though I swear that was accidental. Then she jerked back and cuffed my cheekbone, knocking me away.

It was a light blow, the kind you might give an annoying puppy, but it hurt me more than many a blow since. I can still feel it, sometimes. My fingers were still caught in her hair and though I tried to free them, she wrenched away with such ferocity it tore free at the roots. There were red strands still tangled in my fingers when she shoved me away, and staggered to her feet.

She didn’t run, and I couldn’t stand. She stood there in disbelief, and I just sat and stared back at her like the fool I was.

‘I thought…’ I stammered. ‘I thought you…that I…’

‘How could you?’ She shook her head, calm and steely. ‘How could you think anything of the sort?’