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Authors: Kate Forsyth

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Fantasy - Epic

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BOOK: The Tower of Ravens
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“This is extraordinary!” Nina cried. “It really is a miniature o‘ one o’ the great towers. How on earth could Ardarchy afford such a well-set-up witch’s tower?”

Ashelma smiled. “I won a grant from the Coven,” she answered. “I studied at the Tower o‘ Two Moons, ye ken, and heard about the grants while I was there. It’s a new initiative o’ the Keybearer, to encourage witches to go out into the countryside and help remote towns and villages and teach them the ways o‘ the Coven. Ardarchy has no’ had its own witch since before the Day o‘ Betrayal so I’ve had a great deal to do since I came here. Certainly the townsfolk are proud o’ their tower and they profited from the building o‘ it, because a condition o’ the grant is that it must be used on local craftsmen and products. Only the glass had to be shipped in, o‘ course, which was enormously difficult and expensive, but worth it, I think.”

“Oh, do ye think I could apply for a grant like that?” Maisie said with shining eyes and clasped hands. “My village is very poor and we have no-one to teach the children or do the rituals, or even help the women in their labour. My mother used to do what she could, but she got sick with the fever and my grandfather kens naught about healing, only about weather magic and blessing the crops, and so she died… oh, if I got a grant, I could go back and build a tower like this for us. It would mean so much to all the villages in the valley.”

“O‘ course ye could, that’s what the grants are for,” Ashelma said. “Most o’ the common folk canna be travelling to the High Towers for help in times o‘ trouble, and so the Keybearer hopes that one day every town or region will have its own tower, and everyone will be taught to read and write, and have access to healers, and celebrate the Sabbats as they should be celebrated. It has made all the difference to Ardarchy. I’ve started a village school, and I sit on the town council, and I bless the crops, and organise the parades and festivals, and often I mediate between the villagers so that the reeve does not have to be called in.”

“And ye’ve started an orphanage and a hospital for injured animals,” Nina said with a smile.

Ashelma smiled back ruefully. “A witch for all seasons, that’s what I am!”

 

Crossing the Stormness

 
 

The storm raged so violently the next day that even Nina had to admit it would be dangerous to ride out. Hail rattled against the windows, and the trees swayed and bent like sword-fighters in a duel.

Iven and the boys braved the storm to come and join them, and arrived windblown, mud-splattered, and eager to get out of the pelting rain. Ashelma welcomed them warmly, helping them find dry clothes to put on, and advising them strongly against riding on.

“Once a storm like this sets in, it’ll take a day or two for it to blow itself out,” she said. “Stay and rest up, and set out again once it’s blown over.”

Nina looked at the streaming windows and thanked her with a sigh.

They were all glad to have a respite from riding, even Lewen, who was used to spending hours of every day in the saddle. They sat in front of the fire, playing cards or dice games, cleaning their boots, or in Landon’s case, writing in his dog-eared, ink-splattered notebook. “Growing among trees o‘ blossom white, her tower shines out with blessed light…” he murmured to himself.

The girls all had a long soak in a hot bath, and helped wash and comb each other’s hair. Their clothes were badly travel-stained, and so they took the opportunity to do their laundry, though Maisie had to show them how to use the boiler and wringer. Nina gave them all some more salve for their chafed thighs and bound up Rhiannon’s wrist for her with fresh bandages.

The storm was fiercer man ever by nightfall, and so Ashelma made up pallets for the boys before the fire. They had a riotous meal with the orphans, who were bursting with energy after a day spent indoors, and went early to bed, hoping for a clear dawn.

Rhiannon had determined to undo her bandage and open her vein again that night, once all the others were asleep, but in the end this was not necessary, for Annis brought her a half-dead mouse one of the cats had caught. She gave the mouse to Rhiannon with a very grave face but said not a word, and Rhiannon was able to slit the mouse’s throat and spill its blood without causing any commotion.

The next day was even wetter and wilder, and once again they delayed their riding out. Like the apprentices, Iven was quite content to lie around and read, or play with the orphans, or strum his guitar, eating and drinking to his heart’s content, while the rain streamed down against the windows. Nina, however, was clearly anxious. She went out several times to check the height of the river, coming back drenched to the skin, shivering with cold and frowning.

The sorceress decided to put their enforced rest to good use, and so the apprentices had to spend the morning in the study and practice of witchcraft. Rhiannon found these lessons fascinating, though it made all the hair on her arms rise to watch the apprentices lift a wooden ball and set it spinning in midair without touching it.

Annis was set to listen to the students stumbling through the seven languages of birds and beasts, a skill Nina apparently thought they were all very weak in. Then she and Lewen spent an hour brushing up their knowledge in mathematics and alchemy, subjects they obviously detested.

Discovering Rhiannon could not read or write, Ashelma undertook to teach her, and soon Rhiannon’s eyes and head and wrist were aching, the witch being a hard taskmistress. If it had not been for Edithe’s raised eyebrow, and Cameron’s snigger, half-hidden behind his hand, she would have rebelled but, having set her will to prove them wrong, Rhiannon learnt surprisingly fast. By the end of the day she could recognise her own name and Lewen’s, as well as a few key words like bread, horse, witch and school. This gave her immense satisfaction, only equalled by her triumph over Cameron in the wrestling ring after lunch.

A morning spent in study had made all the apprentices very cross and quarrelsome, and so Iven had decided they needed some exercise. He pushed the table in the dining room to one side and asked the apprentices to demonstrate
ahdayeh
to Rhiannon. Although primarily used by the Coven as a form of meditation through movement,
ahdayeh
was also a system of hand-to-hand combat, and Iven set the students to pitting their skills against each other. After watching a few rounds, Rhiannon was eager indeed to test her own fighting skills. It took her only a few seconds to thrown Cameron flat on his back.

He was furious and sprang up at once, challenging her again. Three times she threw him down, until he was white-faced and dangerous with rage. Iven separated them then, and challenged her himself, and Rhiannon took great enjoyment in laying him flat on the carpet as well. After that the competition began in earnest. Rhiannon found the only one she could not throw down with ease was Lewen, something which gave her a degree of secret pleasure. They struggled together for close on half an hour, hot and panting, half-angry, half-laughing, before Iven at last stopped them and declared his intention to teach them all how to dance instead.

It took Rhiannon only a minute to decide dancing was not for her, primarily because she was taller than most of the boys and had absolutely no sense of rhythm, having never heard music before she met the jongleurs. She had no desire to sit and watch Felice flirting and laughing with Lewen as he spun her round the room, and so as soon as the music stopped and everyone changed partners, she stepped forward and laid her hand on his sleeve, asking him in a low voice if he minded if she had a look at his longbow.

Rhiannon had been fascinated by Lewen’s bow from the moment she had seen him strapping it to his pommel. It was the tallest bow she had ever seen, almost a foot longer than hers. The arrows he whittled for himself were also longer than usual, and she had longed for a chance to try her hand at them. Her determination was only piqued by Lewen’s surprised laugh and shake of his head.

“Ye willna be able to draw my bow,” Lewen said. “Few can, ye ken. Ye need to be very strong.”

“Me strong,” Rhiannon said indignantly.

“No‘ that strong,” he answered.

“Lewen’s a famous longbowman, like his father,” Iven said, lifting his fingers from the strings of his guitar so he could join the conversation. “It wouldna be a fair contest, Rhiannon.”

“Iven!” Edithe protested, as she and Cameron came to a halt nearby. “Play on! We want to dance.”

Rhiannon lifted her chin. “Me shoot ogres afore, bet Lewen hasna!”

“Well, no, I haven’t,” Lewen admitted, “but it still wouldna be a fair contest.”

“Oh, ungallant,” Rafferty jeered, taking his hand from Felice’s waist so he could join the conversation. “I’d put my money on Rhiannon any day.”

“Rafferty!” Felice cried. “Do ye no‘ want to dance with me? Iven, please, will ye no’ play on?”

Iven did not hear her, turning to Rafferty and demanding whether he had ever seen Lewen shoot. “For I swear his arrows can fly round corners. Ye’d lose your money.”

“I’m a fair shot too,” Cameron said belligerently, eager to overcome his humiliation in the wrestling ring. “I bet I can out-shoot any lass, no matter how much o‘ a tomboy she is.”

“Let’s set up a target,” Rafferty said eagerly. “I wouldna mind trying my hand at Lewen’s bow too. It’s mighty tall.”

“Iven!” Felice wailed.

“I’ll play for you, lassies,” Nina said, looking over from the couch by the fire, where she was busy writing in a leather-bound book. “Ye’ll never drag Iven away from a shooting contest.”

“But we need the boys to dance with,” Edithe said waspishly, glaring at Rhiannon.

“If ye can persuade them to keep on dancing with ye, I’ll be happy to play for ye,” Nina said. “But, indeed, Edithe, I doubt they’ll pay ye any heed.”

Nina proved to have the truth of it. The boys hardly heard the girls’ entreaties, being busy looking for something to make a target out of, and entreating Lewen to go and get his bow so they could all try their strength and skill. Lewen agreed with good humour, and he and Rhiannon went to get their bows and arrows out of the stables, where they were stored with the rest of their luggage. Iven, Cameron and Rafferty busied themselves rigging up a board at the far end of the room, drawing rough concentric circles on it with chalk. Edithe went to sit down next to Nina with a sour expression on her face, but Felice joined the others, asking questions with great animation and much laughter. Even shy Maisie grew interested, and found the courage to ask Lewen, when he returned with his bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, why his arrows were so much longer than usual and why he fletched them with green.

BOOK: The Tower of Ravens
12.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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