Wolfsbane: 3 (Rebel Angels) (11 page)

A light breeze, and a bright summer day, clear to the horizon. Seth had taken the stone steps two at a time to join Fearna on the battlement, the pair of them staring out at the rider, still
distant but riding ever closer across the machair.

‘He’s blocking, Fearna.’

‘Aye, but I know his handsome face fine. It’s Iolaire MacEarchar.’

Seth slanted his eyes at Jed, five yards away, but Jed could only look away, fix his stare at the man on horseback. He had not felt this panicked terror since he was seventeen and facing his
first Lammyr. Seth must know what had stirred inside him the day they brawled with a detachment of Kate’s at Kinlaggan. A proper, weaponless slugfest on neutral territory, alcohol-fuelled and
cathartic and bloody; and in the midst of it, two rival fighters slumped across each other beneath upturned tables, forgotten, exhausted, and grinning, and finally laughing so hard the fight had
flagged and ended before they even staggered back to their feet.

Seth must know it. He’d been in his head often enough, before Jed banished him.

‘Send out a guard, Fearna.’ Seth’s voice broke into Jed’s thoughts now. ‘Disarm him and bring him in.’

Iolaire’s horse ambled at an easy walk, watched by every man and woman on the parapet. Two of Seth’s fighters rode out of the gate of the dun, and Iolaire stretched his arms out wide
as they drew their horses abreast of him.

Calmly Iolaire reached for the buckle of his sword belt and unfastened it, passing it to the man on his right. He did the same with his dirk, and his hunting knife, then clasped his wrists in
front of him to let the woman on his left bind his hands. Only when the three were riding back abreast, only when every other eye in the dun was on them; only then did Jed let himself steal another
glance at Seth. This time it was Seth who wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Seth reached the courtyard as the guards rode in with the newcomer, and the murmuring crowd drew back to let them pass. Jed was five paces behind Seth, loath to follow, unable to stop
himself.

One of the guards dismounted and went to help Iolaire off his horse, but he shrugged her off and swung his leg over his horse’s neck, stumbling only slightly as he jumped to the ground. He
straightened as Seth approached him.

‘What do you want, Iolaire?’

The young man’s beautiful eyes burned. The pain in them was like a writhing snake, and its coils might as well have been around Jed’s throat.

‘I’m your bondsman, Murlainn,’ said Iolaire flatly, ‘that, or kill me. Up to you.’

Seth wrinkled his nose, then glanced at Sionnach, who raised his eyebrows slightly.

‘Iolaire,’ he said, and stepped close to him. ‘Permit me.’

Iolaire’s lip curled, but he didn’t flinch as Seth gripped his head. Neither of them closed their eyes. They stared at each other silently for long seconds, and no-one in the
courtyard breathed or moved.

Seth took a harsh breath and pulled away, then turned to the man who held Iolaire’s weapons. ‘Give me his dagger.’

The man held it out, eyeing Iolaire apprehensively.

Seth unsheathed the blade with a sound like ripping silk. Lifting Iolaire’s bound hands, he slit the cords and stepped back.

‘Give him back his sword, Fearna,’ he said. ‘Welcome, Iolaire. I’m happy you came to me.’ Then he turned and walked away, and he only glanced once at Jed, hanging
back on the edge of the crowd, weak with sick relief.

Jed shut his eyes, then opened them again. Cowardice wasn’t alien to him, but it didn’t fit well with his self-image. Before he could change his mind again, he
knocked on the door.

‘What is it?’ The voice was empty.

Forcing stillness into his hands, Jed pushed open the door and stepped inside. Iolaire stood in front of the little bunk, his naked sword in one hand and a whetstone in the other. His hard face
softened as he looked at Jed.

‘Hello, Cuilean,’ he said, and sheathed the blade.

Jed turned slowly, studying the room. Not so long ago it had been a weapons store, only converted recently to a place for sentries to rest and grab an hour’s uneasy sleep. It was so
cramped it looked overcrowded by the small hard bed and the rough shelf beside it. And here beneath the gate it was so cold Jed could feel it seeping into his bones already.

Anger and embarrassment constricted his throat. ‘This isn’t what Murlainn intended.’

‘This is fine for me.’

‘I’m going to report this,’ said Jed. ‘Who assigned you this room? They’ll be lucky if he doesn’t have them flogged.’

‘Hey, Cuilean, it’s
fine.’
Iolaire tilted his head and watched him. ‘Thanks for minding. Really. But the man was in a hurry. And I seem to remember killing a
friend of his. Don’t get him in trouble for my sake, because it is
fine.’
He smiled wryly. ‘Besides, I heard Murlainn banned floggings and burned the post.’

‘That’s true.’ Jed looked at the floor, then back up at him. ‘I’m ashamed. You rode a long way. I’ll sleep here; I’ll show you to my room. You can have
it tonight and I’ll have a word with Seth in the morning. Quietly. Honest.’ He smiled.

‘I wouldn’t hear of it, Cuilean. But thanks.’

‘You don’t understand. I’ll sleep here; you sleep in my room. If you don’t agree, I’ll sleep in the courtyard.’ He couldn’t quite meet Iolaire’s
sea-coloured eyes. ‘And bay at the moon all night outside your door.’

Iolaire was silent for such a long time that eventually Jed had to look at him, and then his expression was unreadable. There was gentleness in it, though.

‘You’re kind, Cuilean.’

‘I’m not, believe me.’ Jed gave him a thin smile.

‘All right. I agree, then. On one condition: you don’t sleep here either. You sleep in your own room too.’

Jed swallowed. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll take the floor.’

‘No,’ said Iolaire. He stepped forward, and took Jed’s hand, and kissed him.

Jed drew back, though his fingers stayed laced in the man’s dark hair. ‘Iolaire. Why are you here?’

‘Your captain knows. No-one else. I’ll tell you. But not now.’ Iolaire kissed the corner of his mouth again, but Jed drew back.

‘I’m nobody’s rebound,’ he said softly.

‘Indeed you’re not.’ Iolaire stepped back to pull his jumper over his head, then his t-shirt. He was lean and brown and beautiful. ‘That was my old life, Jed, and it is
behind me. My new life is you. Understand? I didn’t come here first and foremost to be Murlainn’s bondsman. I came to be yours.’

Jed raised his eyes to his, the terror of the minutes on the battlement still lingering. ‘If he’d killed you?’

Iolaire looked away. ‘That would have been fine too. Now, Cuilean.’ He turned to him again and gave him a smile of breathtaking beauty and longing. ‘This room is lacking
warmth. Let’s give it some before we leave it forever.’

As the rippling silver sea-light faded, and the dawn sun painted the rafters gold, and the white wolf stretched and yawned, Iolaire lay and gazed at the roof, while Jed slept,
and did not dream of Lammyr.

‘That horse isn’t even shod.’ I flung another armful of dead wood onto the pile in the courtyard, wondering which of my many newly discovered muscles was
going to hurt tomorrow. I was knackered. And I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near those massive hooves if Rory’s father hadn’t had a firm grip of one of them, howking out a stone
with a knife.

Seth glanced up with his teeth clenched, but I had the annoying notion they were clenched against a smile. ‘Tell you what,’ he said, shaking a lock of black hair out of his eye.
‘You give me any more cheek and I’ll get you to shoe him.’

I curled my lip. ‘It’s your horse.’

‘Yeah. That he is.’

‘You’re that possessive. I reckon you care more about that horse than you do about–’

‘Don’t finish that sentence.’ His eyes glinted silver. ‘It’s not possessiveness. You want to ride him, go ahead, and don’t blame me when you’re
dead.’ He dropped the roan’s hoof and it blew affectionately at his neck. ‘And don’t go thinking you know more about my son than I do.’

He was a snappy swine, but I liked him. I studied his face as I plaited my hair into a single twist. ‘You make Rory nervous, y’know.’

Seth leaned back against the roan’s flank, looking nonplussed. ‘I make him nervous?’

‘Yup.’ Coming to the end of my braid, I folded my arms.

Seth was watching me very intently and I thought, as I often had over the last days, that I did not like his eyes. Well, it wasn’t so much dislike as sharp discomfort. Sometimes it chilled
my spine to look at him but sometimes, if I caught him off guard – which was not often and never for long – I could have watched his eyes indefinitely. After all he had beautiful eyes,
grey and crystal-clear and so deep-set that the silver light in them shone out of shadow with fierce intensity. But the open laughter of Rory’s eyes wasn’t there. Seth’s were
haunted eyes, and the ghosts weren’t friendly. They haunted me too: I saw those eyes in my dreams. Maybe I’d murdered Seth in a past life. More likely he’d murdered me.

‘He’s a bit on his own, that’s all,’ said Seth.

I remembered in the nick of time that we were talking about Rory. ‘Yeah? So why can’t you let him lead a normal life?’

‘Don’t get me started.’

‘Aw, you could give him a bit more freedom. Lighten up, you big Nazi.’

It was supposed to be a joke, but his eyes chilled. ‘Thing is, I care where Rory is and what he does. You go where you like and do what you like,’ said Seth viciously, ‘because
nobody gives a damn.’

His venom was so unexpected it was like a punch in the stomach. He’d bitten his lip and sworn at himself before I caught my breath.

‘You mean Rory has a father,’ I spat. ‘Even if it’s a shit-for-morals control freak, at least he’s got one.’

‘Forgive me, Hannah. I…’

‘No.’

‘All right. I’m sorry anyway.’ He folded his knife into its bone handle with a snap. ‘You’re something else, you are.’

‘Yeah. Like I’m not used to insults.’

‘That wasn’t an insult.’ Half-closing his eyes he eased his shoulder blades and pressed them against the horse’s shoulder. Rumbling in its throat, it turned its head to
blow into his hair. ‘Listen, Hannah, Rory’s special. That’s not sentiment from his doting father. He has responsibilities to a lot of people and I have a responsibility to keep
him safe. There are people who would dearly like to get their hands on him.’

Starting with me
, I thought, and Seth laughed aloud.

I gave him a dark glare. ‘Cut that out. I mean it. You stay out of my head.’

‘I’m not in it. You shouldn’t think so loud.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway, Rory didn’t choose this life, but it found him anyway. He has to thole it for the
foreseeable future, and if you want to be his friend, so do you.’

I bristled. ‘Is that a threat?’

‘It is.’ He gave me a gorgeous smile. ‘Absolutely.’

I couldn’t think of an adequate answer. There wasn’t another adult on earth who would dare talk to me like that.

‘Listen,’ he said more gently. ‘Do you want me to deal with your uncle?’

Speechless, I forced my jaw shut. I didn’t have to be a telepath to know exactly what he meant. If he’d been joking, I’d have said it was a tempting offer.

When I’d got my composure back, I shook my head violently. ‘No. Um, no thanks.’

‘I mean, tell me to mind my own business if you like.’

I shook my head again, too dumbfounded to tell him any such thing.

‘Only I know what he is, you know.’

‘Yeah. Uh-huh. Me too.’ I managed a gorgeous smile back. ‘But no thanks.’

‘Let me know if you change your mind.’

‘I can handle him. Really. I appreciate it, honest.’ Then I laughed, couldn’t help it. ‘You’re something else too.’

‘I’ll take that not to be an insult either.’ Grinning, he slewed his gaze over my shoulder. ‘Rory. Your brother awake yet?’

Rory came silently to my side. ‘Nah. Iolaire won’t let me near him. That’s three days in a row he’s been asleep till ten.’

‘Good. You would be too if you had his nights. Now listen.’ Seth gave him a look that could slice bricks. ‘You can go out of the dun, but you take Branndair and Liath with you.
It’s that or an escort of six guards. And I don’t want you near that castle up at the Cailleach’s Loch.’ Seth shook his head. ‘That’s a bad habit you’ve
got, sneaking round that place.’