The Cursed Towers (38 page)

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Authors: Kate Forsyth

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #General, #Magic, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy - General, #Epic, #Fantasy Fiction, #Fantasy - Epic, #Fiction - Fantasy, #Contemporary, #Fantasy - Series, #Occult, #Witches, #Women warriors, #australian

BOOK: The Cursed Towers
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Panic washed over Lilanthe. She found the great mass of creatures, both animal and faery, had turned to her and were waiting, and she wondered what the Celestines had said to them. Somehow she found the courage to rise and face them. Niall rose too and stood at her shoulder, smiling warmly at her and nodding at the crowd. Many growled or hissed at the sight of him, and that gave Lilanthe the impetus to begin.

She did not know where the words came from but they flowed as freely as water. All that she had seen and learnt since her meeting with Isabeau the previous year was woven through her own sense of alienation and her intense desire to belong. Often she was mocked or shouted down, but always she found the words to woo them.

"No' all humans are evil," she insisted, "just as no' all faeries are. Evil grows within the individual heart, regardless o' kin or kind. They say all cursehags are evil, yet there are many here today and we all ken the evil-hearted are no' welcome in the garden o' the Celestines. Would the Stargazers have welcomed Niall the Bear if they did no' ken he was a good man, with a kindly heart and gentle spirit? Indeed there are many bad men, as there are bad bears and bad tree-changers. Indeed humans have done much harm and have hurt many. Should evil beget evil, though? If we should let blind hatred flower in our hearts, then indeed Maya the Ensorcellor will have done her work, and the whole land will be steeped in blood and bad-wishing."

She reminded them of the golden days when Aedan Whitelock had ruled, and men and faeries had abided by the Pact of Peace, letting each live freely and without interference. "Lachlan the Winged is the direct descendant o' Aedan Whitelock and he has pledged to draw up another Pact o' Peace and return Eileanan to the days when faeries were welcomed in the courts o' the land, and their wisdom listened to and respected."

She told them how the dragons had pledged their support to Meghan of the Beasts, and how the armies of Lachlan the Winged were hunting down the evil Seekers of the Awl and making them pay for their evil deeds. Many in the audience had heard tales of the winged boy and how he had sung the summerbourne with the Celes-tines so that it ran stronger and more purely than it had in years. The forest rustled at her words, and faeries of all types turned to each other and whispered.

"Will ye no' give your support to the young righ?" she asked. "Like ye and me, he has been hunted and reviled, called
uile-bheist
and monster. He has wed one o' the Khan'cohbans and given birth to a wee laddie wi' wings like a bird. He received a tree-shifter and a cluri-caun into his court, and paid us his respects, and bade us teach his people what we could about the faeries o' the forest. He has promised that those o' faery blood can again live without fear and sworn that any who lift their hand against us will be punished severely. But he needs our help if he is to enforce his rule—Eileanan is torn by civil war, and if Lachlan the Winged fails, so do all chances o' ever again living in peace." After she had finished speaking, there was much argument and Lilanthe was disappointed to see there were many who thought she must have been misled or cozened by the human witches. But both Corissa and Carrick stood up and confirmed what she had said, describing their rescue from the Tower of the Mists. They too were only half-faeries, though, and many would not heed what they said. Another corrigan called Sann then described how she had met Meghan of the Beasts and the new righ in the Veiled Forest, and promised they were sincere in their intentions. Sann's words were listened to with respect, for she had been stoned and driven from her home by humans and had as much right to hate them as anyone there. Elala added her shrill cries to the chorus, and then the ancient Celestine they called the Stargazer came forward, so old and frail he seemed a mere bundle of bones and wrinkled skin. He began to hum, deep in his throat, and the Celes-tines grouped behind him added their soft crooning. Where every other speaker had been interrupted and argued with, the Celestines were listened to with great respect. Tears gathered in Lilanthe's eyes and flowed down her cheeks as the Celestines spoke of their years of loss and exile, their struggle to keep their ancient culture alive, to tend the forest and its creatures as they had always done, and to stop their race from disappearing altogether. Many in the audience were as moved as she was. When the Celestines sang of forgiveness and friendship, Lilanthe saw many in the gathering were embracing or clasping hands, their cries and growls and murmurs almost drowning out the Celestines' thrumming melody.

When the Stargazer's song had murmured into silence, the Celestines withdrew into the secret heart of the garden, to grieve in privacy. The faeries and animals all gradually dispersed, many talking and arguing still. Lilanthe felt anxiety grip her, for she had hoped for a strong declaration of support from the crowd. Niall laid his big, rough hand on her shoulder and said gently, "Ye must give them time to think, my lady. Ye spoke so wisely, I have no' a single doubt that they shall follow ye. Come and eat and rest, for it was a long night and an even longer day."

The next morning, however, when Lilanthe and Niall the Bear made ready to leave the serene beauty of the sun-gilded garden, they were bitterly disappointed to find the garden empty. They had hoped some at least would pledge their help and support. They walked down the avenue of moss-oaks with heavy hearts, unable to even smile at the antics of the cluricaun Brun, who danced and cartwheeled all around them, his tail waving joyously. Even Elala the nisse did not come to say farewell, and Lilanthe trudged along unhappily, miserable that she had failed again.

Then suddenly, beyond the borders of the garden, the bright-winged nisse came flashing through the trees, shrieking loudly, hundreds of her kin darting and soaring behind her. She seized Niall's hair and tugged it sharply, then hung off his nose, gibbering away in her shrill language. Lilanthe's face lit up. "She says the forest tread tramps!"

They could hear a rustling and soughing like a storm through pine-branches, then they saw a great army of faeries marching toward them. Through the forest of tree-changers prowled slinky shadow-hounds and sharp-horned satyricorns, while a screech of gravenings circled overhead, their harsh shrieks echoing. Leathery-skinned corrigans grasped clubs of stone, hobgoblins scampering behind, while the horse-eel pranced at their head, swollen to his largest size. It was an army the like of which had never been seen before in Eileanan.

A huge grin split Niall's bearded face and he bowed to Lilanthe and said, "Indeed ye have worked miracles, my lady! Will His Highness no' be pleased to see the magic ye have wrought?"
They seek revenge on those men who have hurt and hunted them,
Cloudshadow explained, stepping out of the shadow of a moss-oak, her child in her arms.
They will march with you against the Seekers
of the Awl who hide out near the fringe of the forest and seek to raise a false banrigh. They will
help you make the forest free again, hunting down all those soldiers who shelter in her shade and
driving them far away. When it is time, they will come and make a pact of peace with your righ
and will watch to make sure he is true to his promises.

"I thank ye," Niall the Bear said, drawing his claymore and holding it high. "And I swear by the blood o'

my own body that Lachlan the Winged shall be true!"

Lachlan and his retinue were at dinner when one of the soldiers who had traveled with Finlay Fear-Naught was admitted to the great hall of Dim Eidean's castle. He was dusty and sweat-stained, his hair disheveled, his leather armor rent and torn. He strode up the side of the great hall and bowed before the thrones.

"Your Highness, sorry I am indeed to be disturbing ye at your meal, but I have news. The forest has marched!"

"Have a seat! Cameron, pour the man some whiskey. What do ye mean, the forest has marched? Have ye lost your wits?"

"No indeed, Your Highness. I saw it with my own eyes. The forest marched on Glenmorven, where we had laid siege to Renshaw the Ruthless and his Red Guards. I have never seen such a sight! They made a sound like the ocean, or like thunder. I have heard tales o' walking trees, Your Highness, but never did I think I would see it happen!"

"Lilanthe has roused the tree-changers," Meghan said softly. "What wonderful news indeed!"

"We would have tried to fight them if we had no' seen Niall the Bear riding at their head, carrying the Mac-Cuinn stag. Seeing him and the tree-faery, Laird Finlay ordered us to lay down our arms and so we did, though I am no' ashamed to admit my legs were trembling wi' fear. Then we were surrounded on all sides with the trees, as if in the midst o' a great forest. Running all through the trees were wolves and bears and strange creatures with horns and claws and gnashing teeth and hair like snakes and tiny winged creatures that stung like bees ..."

"So what happened?" Lachlan cried, his dark face alight. "Meghan, do ye think it means the faeries have thrown their lot in with us?"

The old sorceress nodded and smiled, as the soldier went on to describe the battle. "The Red Guards had the gates shut tight against us, Your Highness, but the trees cracked them open as if they were made o' matchwood and no' the stoutest o' oaks. They all swarmed into the town—there were dogs wi' flaming green eyes, Your Highness, as did tear out the throats o' the guards, and faeries wi' horns that stabbed them and rent them. It was magnificent!"

"What o' Renshaw?" Lachlan demanded. "Was he taken?" The soldier shook his head. "Nay, I be sorry, Your Highness. Once it was clear Glenmorven would fall, he and a company o' his men hacked their way through with axes and flaming torches. The tree-faeries would no' face the flame, and so he won clear. Most o' his supporters were killed or taken prisoner, though. We have them under our charge, awaiting your instructions. Lilanthe o' the Forest said the army o' tree-faeries would now sweep through all o' Aslinn and make sure there were no camps o' Bright Soldiers hidden within."

"It would be a wonderful thing if we could plug that hole," Duncan Ironfist said with satisfaction. "All summer long they've been falling on our backs like ravening wolves, and we havena been able to throw them off. If they canna cross the Great Divide and come in through Aslinn, that means we have only to guard against Arran and the sea."

"Renshaw fled south, Your Highness, and we fear he has sought sanctuary in Arran." They all exclaimed in surprise. Lachlan. said, "Are ye sure?" and Meghan asked urgently, "What o' my apprentice Isabeau the Red, any news o' her or the babe?"

"Laird Finlay chased the ruthless one all the way to the borders o' Arran, but turned aside at the edge o'

the marsh. Renshaw had the babe with him, there's no doubt o' that, for Laird Finlay saw her wi' his own eyes. He saw no sign o' the lady Isabeau though, but that does no' mean she was no' with them, for Laird Finlay said Renshaw had gathered together over two hundred supporters and Isabeau the Red could easily be among such a large party without being seen."

"I see," Lachlan said slowly. "Well, thank ye for the news. Ye must have ridden hard indeed to get here so quickly. Will ye have a wee dram with us to celebrate? In the morn ye can tell one o' the dispatch riders where Laird Finlay is and send to him to come home. It is dangerous indeed so close to the marshes and we need him here."

The man nodded and saluted. Lachlan gestured to Dillon to pour him some whiskey. They all drank a toast to the victory at Glenmorven and the rising of the forest faeries, then the tired, hungry, dusty dispatch rider went gratefully down to the kitchen to be fed. A buzz of conversation rose as soon as he had left the room.

"Renshaw gone to Arran?" Gwilym asked. "I do no' believe it! It must be a trick."

"Is it so impossible that he c-c-could have sought sanctuary in the m-m-marshes, taking the babe with him? We know M-M-Maya and my m-m-m-mother were allies o' a s-s-sort," Iain replied.

"This is laughable!" Meghan cried. "The Grand-Seeker o' the Awl, in cahoots with one o' the most powerful sorceresses in the land! Surely he would no' seek sanctuary in Arran?"

"Why would he no'?" Elfrida asked. "Is she no' your bitter enemy?"

"Well, yes, there has always been bad bluid between the MacFoghnan and MacCuinn clans, ever since the days o' the First Crossing. But Renshaw is leader o' the Awl and so sworn to stamp out witchcraft. He hates and fears sorcery; it does no' make sense that he would go to Arran."

"But if they both see ye as their enemy, will that no' make them allies?" Elfrida said. Iseult flashed her a look. "Likely enough," she agreed, unable to suppress the note of surprise in her voice. "There is a Khan'cohban proverb," and she spoke a few harsh syllables in the guttural language of her homeland. "Your friend, my enemy; your enemy, my friend," she translated.

"Still, they are strange bedfellows," Meghan said. "Though I thought Maya and Margrit bizarre allies as well. I wonder what game it is the Thistle plays."

"Whatever game it is, I wish those blaygird marsh-faeries o' hers would leave us alone," Lachlan said wearily. They had been attacked again only a few weeks earlier, right in the great hall of Dun Eidean's castle. This time there had been more than twenty Mesmerdean and they had lost almost thirty soldiers and servants in fighting them off. All of them had had trouble sleeping since, starting at shadows and waking from uneasy dreams with a feeling of suffocation. "Will we never be free o' them and their thirst for revenge?"

"Or free o' the Thistle and her machinations?" Meghan too looked and sounded weary, her old face haggard.

"I am sure she would be glad to have Bronwen in her hands," Iseult said. "What a weapon she would be!"

"Och, I hope the poor wee babe is safe," Latifa said piteously, clasping her fat hands together.

"Margrit would no' harm the babe," Meghan reassured her. "She is too valuable alive. It is Isabeau I fear for."

"But surely Margrit would have no use for Isabeau?" Matthew the Lean asked.

"Isabeau has great Talent," Meghan replied somberly. "Margrit has already shown she wants bairns with Talent—why else did she steal away all those children and keep them imprisoned in the Tower o' Mists?

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