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Authors: Gillian Philip

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BOOK: Bloodstone
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Eili let her horse pace the clearing, searching the shadows though she must have known she was wasting her time. Lovesick, I decided. Her eyes were brilliant as a deer’s
in the night and she was so tense, she looked as if she would spring away at the crack of a twig.

‘Damn it. He isn’t here.’

I tilted an eyebrow. ‘No shit, Sherlock.’

‘Not the end of the world,’ said Torc cheerfully, though Eili visibly thought it was. ‘We’ll wait.’

‘No.’ Leonora was riding at Torc’s back. ‘We’ll move on. I’d like to be closer to the sea.’

Eili stared at her. ‘We’ll wait for Cù Chaorach and Sionnach.’

Oh, this was going to be good. I perked up.

‘No, no, no, Eili.’ Leonora tickled Faramach’s throat, and the raven crooned fondly. ‘No, we won’t. Cù Chaorach is taking his blessed time as ever, and
I’ve got better things to do than hang around. You’re only his lieutenant, Eili. I’m giving you an order.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘And you haven’t the right to
overrule it.’

The wind had dropped. Nothing moved. Interested, I glanced from one to the other; Torc seemed more fascinated by the leaf litter on the ground.

Recovering, her cheekbones darkening, Eili took a breath to argue, but I thought I should intervene, and reassert my closeness to Conal. ‘He won’t come here now. Fall back to the
next rendezvous.’

‘Oh, brilliant,’ muttered Torc.

‘Good,’ said Leonora. ‘Let’s go. Cù Chaorach can look after himself, Eili.’

‘Huh. In that case we’ll split up. That patrol’s still about. Torc, take Leonora. She can confuse them.’

‘Gladly,’ said Leonora. ‘You only have to ask.’

I loved female politics. Torc’s choice, of course, didn’t come into it. He grinned at me.

Eili growled, but ‘Be careful’ was all she said. Flirtatiously Leonora squeezed Torc’s torso, and they and the horse melted into the trees like ghosts.

‘Seth, take the lead.’ Eili turned to Finn, holding a vicious knife by its sheathed blade. ‘Can you throw this?’

Finn shrugged. ‘I could throw it. But it wouldn’t hit anything.’

‘Oh, what has your mother been playing at? Take it. Anybody follows us, make like you know what to do with it. Okay?’

‘Um...’ Finn slid the blade a little out from its sheath and examined her reflection in it.

‘Be better if we could just take you two back to the watergate,’ Eili grumbled.

‘Not while Laszlo’s between us and it,’ I said.

A tremor went through the boy; I felt it. I half-turned, not quite looking at him. ‘You’re scared, Cuilean?’

‘No.’

‘Liar.’

Eili had chosen her route for the dark denseness of the rhododendrons that had overrun the shallow rock-strewn gully, which was fine so long as we were trying to stay out of sight. But I
didn’t like the tight closeness of them, and the way the straggling branches tangled and clung to fissures in the rock. They’d be impenetrable on horseback, and the confused shapes were
humanoid enough in the dark to make the skin crawl, even with my eyesight.

The roan’s muscles bunched under me, and its head came up, nostrils flaring wide and lips peeling back. At its high snarl, I whipped my sword off my back. Rhododendrons were not the
problem.

A brief thunder of hooves, and Eili’s horse came up alongside mine. Both her swords were naked in her hands; she’d left her reins lying loose. I gave Finn one backward glance to see
she’d already slid her knife out of its sheath. I wasn’t sure what I saw in her pale eyes. Not all fear, anyway.

Ahead shapes were dappled in leaf-patterned starlight: three horses, one rider.

No. Two riders, but one of them was off his horse and on the ground. As he rose awkwardly to his feet I saw him clearly, and he wasn’t alone. His arm was wrapped round the neck of another
man, limp in his grip.

‘Cuthag,’ I murmured.

He stood up straighter, arm still locked round the neck of his victim.

‘That’s no fighter,’ said Eili at last.

Teeth flashed in a grin. ‘A waste of time, is what he was.’ Cuthag hitched his captive a little higher, slid a blood-streaked blade out from beneath the man’s breastbone, and
let him collapse lifeless to the ground. There were deep vicious cuts on the corpse’s neck and his staring face, and on his bound arms. But those cuts hadn’t killed him; it was the
final blade in his breast that had done that. Cuthag’s favourite methods didn’t have much sophistication, and they probably weren’t even efficient, but gods, he enjoyed them.

Something chilled my blood as he smiled up at me.

I wondered if Finn or the boy knew at that point how close they were to death. I willed the girl not to drop the knife: she’d be dead in a heartbeat if she did. But eyeing her, I realised
there wasn’t a chance of it. It fitted her hand, which wasn’t trembling any more. She looked like she might even have known how to use it, in another life. Another world.

‘Bad timing on your part, Eili.’ The killer sighed. ‘I was only asking him if he’d seen you around. You could have saved the poor man a lot of pain.’

I barked a laugh. ‘Still a fighter’s fighter, aren’t you, Cuthag? Why’d you tie his wrists? Scared he might scratch your pretty face?’

‘He was a bit of a wriggler.’ Cuthag grinned.

‘He was a farmer.’ Rage brimmed in Eili’s voice.

‘He was a very stubborn farmer. I knew he must have seen you.’

‘Well, there we are. What are we going to do now?’ I glanced from Cuthag to the man behind him on horseback, who was pointing a sword at us. ‘Where’s the rest of your
gang? Where’s your captain? Hey!’ My grin broadened. ‘Did they leave you two to dig the latrines?’

The rider growled, and Cuthag’s smile tightened. ‘They’re just killing Eili’s brother. They’ll be along in a minute.’

Eili tipped back her head and gave a hoot of genuine laughter. ‘In your dreams, you dirty big waste of a blade.’

Cuthag still wore a grin, but it had lost some of its glee and taken on an edge of anger. ‘Watch your mouth, bitch.’

‘And you,’ I put in, ‘bitch. So why aren’t you with them? Oh, yeah, that’s right. Sionnach doesn’t let you tie his hands first.’

Eili shot me a cross look, but her mouth twitched. Cuthag’s mouth tightened, his grin gone.

‘Well,’ said Eili. ‘I can’t see Laszlo making it back any time soon. Shall we just agree to differ? I won’t let on, you know. I won’t tell him you failed to
catch us.’

Cuthag smirked. ‘You won’t have to.’

Eili jerked her head in Finn’s direction. ‘This one’s handy with a throwing blade.’

Finn was managing to smile, her blade catching the starlight prettily.

Cuthag laughed. ‘That child? It doesn’t even have a name!’

Branndair snarled, and thoughtfully I put my finger to my jaw. ‘I gave you the hiding of your life when we were ten. I didn’t have a name then.’

Cuthag curled his lip, and jerked his head at Jed. ‘That boy, now – he has a name. And he’ll be dead by midnight.’

I was on the point of answering when the boy did it himself. ‘Says which wanker?’

If I hadn’t been focused on Cuthag and his pal, I’d have smiled. I knew that feeling: the anger chasing out the fear. And more fear chasing it straight back in.

‘Relax, everybody.’ Eili drew the blade of one of her swords slowly along the other, so that they sang a high note. ‘One, two, three blades. I think you’re outnumbered,
Cuthag. That’s never suited you, so let us pass.’

The note of Branndair’s growl changed abruptly, and I tensed. The shadow to our left might have been no more than rhododendron foliage, so lightly did it move. I sensed the excellent block
only at that moment: oh, clever. Flipping my sword, I thrust it backwards.

The blade made a soft scraping sound as it plunged into flesh. I brought it forward again, a steel glint streaked with darkness.

There was a stuttering suck of breath; I let myself glance to the side. The woman regarded me with bitter loathing. But the sword in her hand hung useless; she couldn’t lift it, not now.
As she fell to her knees and then toppled face forward to the ground, her head banged against Jed’s foot. He made a strangled sound of horror, but loud enough for only me to hear.

‘Okay.’ I wiped the bloody blade on the roan’s shoulder, making it whicker with hunger, then pointed it at Cuthag. ‘Now you’re outnumbered.’

Cuthag exchanged glances with his colleague on the horse.

‘We don’t want to fight,’ said Eili. ‘We can all go home tonight if you stand to the side.’

Cuthag gave the farmer’s corpse a spiteful kick and backed towards the rocky side of the gully. ‘You’d better ride hard, you upstarts.’

‘Not a problem. And you can wait here for Cù Chaorach. He’s going to love your way with innocent farmers.’

‘Aye,’ growled the man on the horse. ‘We learned it from him. Isn’t that right, Murlainn? From your sainted brother.’

I recognised him, now, too: one of the late unlamented Fearchar’s men, from our days as Kate’s henchmen. He met my eyes, challenging, and I could say nothing. I was aware of
Finn’s tension, her still uncomprehending silence, and most of all, of the blade in her grip, steady now and very threatening.

Eili’s breath hissed through her teeth. ‘Get out of the way. I said I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t say I wouldn’t. Back. Further.’

‘Run then, little deer. Run and see if we catch you.’

Without the horses we might have had it, for all our arrogant bluff. But the dapple grey and the blue roan paced carefully between the two men, snaking their heads and baring teeth; the
men’s horses shied and snorted and backed, afraid. This time Eili rode ahead, watching Cuthag with loathing; so I could see how he looked at Finn.

His pallid glittering eyes stayed on her, all hate and contempt and something else more frightening. I saw her suppress a shudder; Cuthag saw it too, because that little smile of his was back. I
studied his face as I rode. When we were five yards, ten yards past, he went on eyeing her; I turned to see. His malice was cold, a tangible thing.

Eili sheathed her swords in an easy double arc and carried Finn away at a swift gallop. I turned the roan a little, so that it danced sideways for a few paces, and I could still keep my eyes on
Cuthag and his pal. Nodding at me, he dropped his block, and I heard his hissing threat.

~ I can wait.

Mila’s boy was at my back, I reminded myself, so I clenched my teeth and resisted the temptation to ride back at him.

Besides, he was already pulling himself nimbly onto his horse, and the hoofbeats drummed, and even my pride could be hedged about with prudence. Eili yanked Finn forward to sit in front of her,
reminding me to do the same for the boy. He yelled, but he was too shocked to fight me.

Something bright flew past us as we burst out of the rhododendron tunnel: a thrown blade that shuddered into a stunted tree. Eili swerved and dodged. The next missile thwicked into the ground a
few yards ahead; Cuthag’s pal had a bow, then. I swore.

Branndair was a black streak, taking his own route. Trusting his instincts, I let him. Eili’s grey swerved, racing for the next belt of trees, and as we followed it I felt the breath of
another arrow on my cheek. As we hit the first trees, side by side and almost touching, I heard Eili grunt and she lurched forward. Then we were into the copse, faces slapped and slashed by
branches.

On the far side we broke out into boggy land before plunging into a river. That gave the horses a new lease of energy, and they wheeled and headed upstream, flying through the water as birds
would cut through the air. After that there was no catching us, and the pursuit fell away.

Eili didn’t halt, though, and I rode hard in her wake. She turned the grey towards the far bank of the river, letting it leap clear in a fan of spray, but it was a long time before she let
it ease back to a canter, then a brisk walk. Jed tugged my t-shirt.

‘She’s hurt,’ he whispered.

‘She’s fine.’ I was still seething. ‘Sonofa
bitch
, I knew Cuthag was going to do that.’

‘No, she’s been hit.’ He whacked my shoulder blade in frustration. Eili was reaching back to tug something from her upper arm, then fling it away. A bloody-tipped arrow.

‘She’s not okay! Stop!’

Finn was white. ‘Eili—’

‘He said I’m okay,’ she snapped. ‘Stop fussing.’

Jed shut up. Now that the danger was gone he’d be far more terrified than he was at the time. His imagination was playing out all the possibilities of what might have been, I knew that.
Kept him quiet. He didn’t throw up, though, or start whining about going home.

Eili was gripping her wounded arm, her face contorted with pain. ‘Good acting back there, both of you.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jed shakily. ‘You two and all.’

‘Heh. You noticed.’ She lowered Finn from the horse, then jumped lightly to the ground.

‘How’s the arm?’ I asked, as Branndair materialized at my side. I rubbed his neck fur fondly.

Eili peeled back the edge of the clean rip in her sleeve. There was a mess of blood, but no hole now. ‘I told you, it’s fine. Leave it. Which way, Seth? This has really screwed us
up.’

‘Can we go back?’ Finn suggested.

Eili guffawed. ‘Aye, good idea. Not. Sionnach and Cù Chaorach will find us, don’t worry.’

‘And Leonie?’

‘She’ll be fine.’ Eili tutted. ‘Don’t be such a worryguts.’

‘Ha,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should have kept the old bat with us. She’d have sorted the tosser of the millennium, proper and permanently.’

Finn snapped, ‘Leonie’s not as old and decrepit as she looks, is she?’

‘You’re not still moaning about that?’ Eili shrugged. ‘She puts on an amazing glamour. Old pro that she is. You should be proud of her.’

‘She’s a con artist and a liar.’

Eili was nonplussed. ‘Well. What she did was for your own...’

‘Now, I’m not sure whose good it was for.’ Finn’s eyes burned. Not with tears, I decided, or not exclusively. If she let rip with the force of her anger, Eili and I were
going to know about it. ‘But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t mine.’

‘Don’t be too hard on her,’ said Eili after a pause. ‘Your grandmother isn’t decrepit, but she’s at
least
as old as she looks. And she wouldn’t
dare defy Stella. None of us would.’

BOOK: Bloodstone
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