The Tower of Ravens (15 page)

“Surely no‘!” Niall was shocked.

Iven shrugged. “Ye ken those ladies o‘ the court, all they do is clishmaclaver. Some say she’s already with babe and she and Donncan need to be married afore the babe is born, which could be true. Others say the young prionnsa is hot for her, but she turns a cold shoulder on him, and His Highness wants to tie the knot afore she unravels all his treaties by running off with someone else. Who kens?”

Lewen listened with great interest. He knew the young heir to the throne very well, being only four years younger and seeing a great deal of him in the course of his duties as one of the Rìgh’s squires. He knew Bronwen NicCuinn too, as well as anyone could know that cool, haughty young beauty.

“It’s all the talk o‘ the countryside, though, which must relieve the pressure on the MacBrann,” Iven continued. “Now he’s inherited the crown o’ Ravenshaw there’s a good deal o‘ pressure on him to be marrying too and producing an heir. Ravenscraig was awash with eligible young ladies when we left. I fancy that is why Lady Felice is with us. I hear she tried her feminine wiles on him and was mortified when the MacBrann paid her no mind. Which is no’ surprising, all things considered.”

At this last comment Lewen frowned and looked to his father, not liking to hear gossip about the MacBrann being repeated. Although Dughall MacBrann’s lack of interest in women had been sniggered about for years, it was disconcerting hearing a friend of his father’s discuss it so openly.

Niall smiled at him. “Och, my lad, I ken ye think Iven as full o‘ clishmaclaver as the court ladies but indeed, his tongue does no’ always run on wheels. It is his job to gather information for the Rìgh and he kens I’m still interested in court doings, although I live so far away. He can be the very soul o‘ discretion if needs be.”

“Indeed I can,” Iven said solemnly. “All I’m telling ye is what ye could hear in any village inn. I ken far more than I’ve said, I promise ye.”

Lewen smiled but thought he would be sure never to confide any secrets to the fair-haired jongleur. His father must have read his expression for he put his hand on Lewen’s shoulder and said quite seriously, “Och, I mean it, laddie. Iven has worked in secret for the Rìgh since long afore Lachlan won back his throne. He was one o‘ Dide’s men, and faced much danger in the days o’ the Ensorcellor, when rebels and witches faced death by fire if they were caught. A single careless word would’ve been enough to condemn them all.”

Iven’s face had darkened. “Och, they were bad days. Let us hope we never see days like them again.”

“Eà turn her bright face upon us,” Niall said, just as sombrely.

They came silently through the kitchen garden, all busy with their own thoughts. Wood-smoke scented the cool, fresh air. The clouds on the mountains were slowly blowing down over the valley. Ursa ambled along behind Niall, raising her snout to sniff the air. Niall could hear voices from the sitting room, and then the sound of laughter.

Suddenly the nisse Kalea shot out of the sky like a maddened hornet. She tweaked one of Ursa’s soft ears, so the old bear moaned in distress, tugged Niall’s hair, and then grabbed hold of the two ends of Iven’s long, plaited beard. She spun so fast in the air she was nothing but a blur of light. Iven cried out in pain and put up his hand to try and catch her. As suddenly as she had come, she was gone again. Iven’s forked beard was now twisted into a spiral. He picked it up in his hand and looked at it ruefully. “That hurt,” he said.

“That’s nisses for ye,” Niall said. “We get plagued by them a lot. They think o‘ the bairns as some kind o’ pet, especially Lewen. Notice she did no‘ pull his hair?”

“Aye, so she didna,” Iven said in mock resentment. “That hardly seems fair. Doesna she ken I’m a guest and to be treated with deference?”

“What about me? I’m the master o‘ this wee domain and she pulls my hair and tugs on my nose all day long.”

“Aye, but she almost pulled my beard out by the roots. A man’s beard should be sacred!”

“Would a nice cool ale make it feel better?” Niall asked, opening the door into the kitchen. “Or happen a wee dram?”

“The sun is over the midline, make it a dram,” Iven said. “Then take me to see this bonny lass that dares ride a winged horse. What a shame we canna bide a wee so I could have a chance to put her story into song. It’s been a long while since we’ve had a new tale to tell.”

“We plan to send her with ye to Lucescere,” Niall said with a grin. “Ye’ll have plenty o‘ time for song-writing.”

“Will she be bringing her horse?”

“Just try and stop her.”

Iven tossed back his dram of whisky with a deep sigh of satisfaction. “My beard and the Centaur’s, I can hardly wait,” he said contentedly. “I can tell it’s going to be an interesting journey!”

The Apprentice Witches

Kingarth was only a small house and the sitting room was already uncomfortably crowded when the three men joined the others. Usually this room was reserved for Lilanthe, who did her sewing and the household accounts there, and wrote her letters. Beautifully worked tapestries of forests and gardens hung over the stone walls, and soft padded chairs covered in green velvet were drawn close about a low table. A sofa made comfortable with soft cushions and rugs was pushed against one wall, while a tall bookcase was crowded with books, a rare luxury so far from the city. On the mantelpiece was a collection of wooden animals Lewen had carved for his mother over the years. In moments of idleness he liked to sit and whittle, watching the shape that emerged from the wood as if it had been imprisoned inside.

The sofa and chairs were all occupied by the females, so Iven, Niall and Lewen went to crowd by the fire with the other males. As soon as Cameron and Rafferty saw Niall, they eagerly asked him if it was true he had once been one of Lachlan the Winged’s own guard in the years before he had won the throne. Niall was happy to oblige them with tales of some of the Blue Guards’ more romantic escapades from the days when the Ensorcellor ruled the land and Lachlan had been a young rebel, his wings concealed beneath a cloak of illusions so that all had thought him a poor hunchbacked cripple.

Lewen leant his shoulder against the wall and observed the members of the group with great interest. The young ladies were all drinking tea and listening politely to Nina as she brought Lilanthe up to date with the happenings of the royal court. Maisie was drinking in every word with rapt eyes, while Edithe was quick to express her opinion on everything from accounts of witch-taunting in Tirsoilleir to the new tax on glass.

Meanwhile, the young poet Landon was absorbed in watching Rhiannon as she fiddled with a wooden box on the side table. Lewen grinned to himself. He had made the box at school and brought it home as a gift to his mother that Hogmanay. It was a cunningly designed puzzle box which looked as if it was merely a prettily carved cube of wood with no lid or hinge or clasp or lock that could be opened. However, it rattled when shaken, revealing something was hidden inside. Most people gave up in frustration after only a few moments, but it was possible to solve the puzzle if one looked long and hard enough. He wondered if Rhiannon would be one of the few to work it out, and by the determined expression on her face, he wagered that she would.

Meriel, Roden and the arak were busy playing spillikins on the floor, the little hairy creature showing amazing dexterity with fingers and toes and tail. Eventually she did knock over one of the sticks, however, and then the arak shrieked with rage and bounded all round the room, upsetting cups of tea and sending a plate of cakes flying. Hurriedly the children tidied up after her, apologising and trying to contain their giggles. When Edithe said haughtily that she would have thought the stable was the place for such a wild beast, and Lulu tipped her head upside down and made a rude face at her from between her hairy legs, Meriel and Roden lost control and fled the room, bubbling over with laughter. Lulu bounded after them, her long tail seizing one of the broken cakes and tossing it deftly into her mouth.

Edithe rolled her eyes and lifted her cup to her mouth, sipping delicately. “Really, that animal! As if we were all no‘ in enough discomfort already. I must say, I do no’ understand why we all must travel in this way. My father would have preferred me to travel in my own carriage, with outriders and my maid to attend me.”

“Students are no‘ permitted servants at the Theurgia,” Nina said in a tone of long suffering. “Apprentices must learn to manage for themselves. Ye ken the rules, Edithe.”

Edithe sniffed and turned her gaze to Rhiannon, who had lifted the puzzle box to her ear and was shaking it vigorously. Something rattled inside, and she turned it in her hands, searching for a way to open it.

“So ye are to ride to the Tower o‘ Two Moons with us, Rhiannon? What is your Talent?”

Rhiannon shrugged, not looking up from the box in her hands.

“Ye have no Talent as yet? But ye are quite auld. Ye must have sat your first two Tests o‘ Powers. What element were ye strongest in?”

“Dinna ken.”

“Ye do no‘ ken? You mean ye have no’ sat your Tests?”

“Nay.”

“But then, surely… what makes ye think ye can attend the Theurgia if ye have no‘ even undertaken the First Test o’ Powers? I ken, o‘ course, that the Coven are no’ as strict as they once were about whom they allow to attend the Theurgia.” Edithe flicked a contemptuous glance towards Maisie,‘ who coloured unhappily, and Landon, who did not notice. “However, applicants must still have some form o’ cunning, at the very least. I, o‘ course, was demonstrating unusually strong powers at a very young age and passed my First Test o’ Powers with flying colours.”

She said this with a confidential smile to Felice, who smiled and murmured, “O‘ course,” with a laughing glance aside to Maisie.

Rhiannon was not listening. Her nimble fingers had found a loose edging of wood along the bottom of the box which, when pulled out, revealed a secret compartment. Hidden within was a tiny key. Rhiannon emptied it into her hand with a gleeful smile and at once began to look for a keyhole. She found it only a few moments later by swinging aside a carved scroll which had been made mobile by the removal of the piece of edging. She glanced up at Lewen in triumph and inserted the key into the lock. Once it was turned, the lid of the box swung open to reveal another, smaller, puzzle box inside. Lewen had to bite back a grin as her face changed from triumph to chagrin. At once she began to turn the smaller box in her hands, looking for the secret to opening it, but this box had been made differently to the first, and so presented a whole new conundrum.