Dragonclaw (4 page)

‘She overcame ye, too, did she no'?' Seychella said, with an ironic inflection in her voice.

‘Did she? Really?' Isabeau asked.

‘We could not withstand so many soldiers,' Meghan responded obliquely. ‘I had to get Ishbel away, and Maya and that servant o' hers thought to try and stop me. I opened the earth at their feet and watched them plunge into the abyss, yet only moments later both were at my heels again. That is no ordinary power.'

‘And she bends others to her will,' Seychella said. ‘That is her real crime. It's more than just compulsion, too, for she does it to crowds o' people at a time.'

‘But why? If she is a witch, why does she want to destroy other witches?'

‘And no' just witches,' Seychella said. ‘She is destroying all the magical creatures as well.'

‘Nobody kens why,' Meghan said. ‘The black-hearted witch seems to ken all our secrets and all our movements, but we ken nothing about her. She says she was born in Carraig but all our questions have no' found out where or when, nor who her parents are. She truly is the Unknown.'

‘And by Eà's green blood, she had something to do with the disappearance o' the three prionnsachan or I'm no witch!' Seychella exclaimed.

Isabeau's eyes rounded. She had been a young girl, around four, when the three young prionnsachan had disappeared one night, apparently stolen from their beds. She and Meghan had been travelling through the highlands when they heard the news, selling herbs, healing sicknesses in return for supplies, and listening to gossip. Once or twice a year they made these journeys to the villages, always dressed in their roughest clothes. The disappearance of the Rìgh's three brothers had caused widespread consternation and anxiety. Many rumours had circulated through the marketplaces and inns, and Meghan, mixing medicines and potions or selling her little wooden boxes of herbs, heard them all. Most seemed to think they had sailed away to distant lands, seeking adventure. It was still common practice for young men and women of high courage to set out on a quest, of which there were many—to look for the fabled gardens of the Celestines where all illnesses could be cured; to find the black winged horse of Ravenshaw, often seen but never tamed; to find the Lost Horn of Elayna or the Ring of Serpetra. ‘But the youngest prionnsa was only twelve years auld,' Meghan had said softly. ‘Surely too young to be thinking o' quests?' The villagers had shifted uneasily, one muttering, ‘Never too young to want adventure, eh?' As the years passed and Isabeau grew older, they occasionally heard rumours of sightings, but the Lost Prionnsachan of Eileanan never returned home.

‘So do ye think she had them murdered? That's awful!' Isabeau exclaimed.

‘Who kens? Maya herself ordered the search, for the Rìgh was beside himself with grief, we heard. But nowhere was there sound nor sight o' the lads. Feeling rose up against Maya then, for there were rumours she'd something to do with their going. They called her a witch herself, and this was, ye ken, only five years after the Day o' Betrayal when an accused witch still faced death by burning. Maya faced them down, though, cutting off all o' her hair as proof she was no' a witch, for even then few witches would let their hair be cut … In the end, she won them all over, as she always did. I fain think she used compulsion on them, though I've never heard o' compulsion being used on more than one or two people at a time, and this was literally thousands!

‘She seems to be a powerful sorceress, Isabeau, and we can only guess at her motives but I personally have seen her order the deaths o' two hundred witches and apprentices. Once the Coven o' Witches was a power in this land, its Towers the centre o' all learning and study, its witches among the finest healers and thinkers. Once witches were respected and feared, now they are hated and reviled. All o' Eileanan carries Maya's yoke across its shoulders—she is no' to be underestimated!'

Meghan's voice rang out into the shadows of the fire-lit cavern and Gitâ gave a little chirrup of distress and laid his paw on her ear. Isabeau stared at her guardian in surprise. For a moment the wood-witch, as thin and gnarled and brittle as a willow twig, had looked as proud and fierce as any of the drawings of old banrìghrean in books. There was a drawn-out moment of silence, fraught with an intensity of emotion that Isabeau did not understand, then the burning light in the sunken black eyes faded and Meghan sat back and took up her knitting once more and was again the frail, hunched-over old woman that Isabeau had known all her life.

Seychella had been cutting herself a piece of cheese and bread, and spreading it with a generous serve of fig jam. She looked up now, swallowing her mouthful and dusting away the crumbs in her lap.

‘Have ye heard the other big news? Apparently the Redcloaks have been sent into the mountains to hunt out
uile-bheistean
again. They say the Faery Decree is no' working fast enough, and that the peasants are just being stubborn.' The scorn in Seychella's voice was very clear. ‘I heard in the highland villages that a force was being sent against the dragons, to wipe them out for good.'

‘Maya's sent a force against the dragons?' Meghan said incredulously, her brow furrowed deeply. ‘She must be very confident … the dragons do no' take trespassing lightly, and will no' hesitate to defend their land … She must have dragonbane,' Meghan mused, more to herself than to the others. ‘There's nothing else that'll fell a dragon, though I wonder where she found it. A very rare plant, and dangerous to distill …'

‘The villagers are all nervous. They say the dragons will come and burn their houses in revenge.'

‘If Maya breaks Aedan's Pact, that's exactly what they'll do.'

‘Well, I heard it was because the dragons had broken the Pact that she sent the Guards against them in the first place.'

‘I do no' believe that for a moment. Where did ye hear that?'

‘In the Whitelock Mountains, on my way through. The dragons have been raiding the herds; I heard men were taken as well. They certainly killed soldiers, for I saw the bodies on my way, and it could be nothing but dragons with those wounds.'

There was an expression of intense interest on Meghan's face. ‘Indeed? So the dragons are violating the Pact. That is interesting. I wonder we have no' seen them.'

‘I thought I saw a dragon the other day,' Isabeau said, excitement filling her. ‘It was just a shadow passing across the moons. I thought I was imagining.'

‘I have no' heard o' dragons raiding herds since Aedan's Pact, four hundred and more years ago.' Meghan looked as if she was making swift calculations, and a small smile had sprung up on her face. ‘Maya will find she has bitten off more than she can chew if she challenges the dragons on their own ground. Fancy sending a group o' Red Guards against Dragonclaw!'

‘There has been talk o' creatures o' all kinds. One thing is interesting—they've been killing wolves, particularly in Rurach. I heard that from a pedlar in Whitelock too. Apparently the wolves have been attacking regiments o' the Red Guards, and they've suffered heavy losses; also, I heard, the wolves have been raiding the herds o' the Banrìgh's supporters, which is interesting.'

‘They're killing wolves?' Meghan said slowly. ‘But … surely no'. She canna believe …'

‘I saw the wolves myself. It was when I was on my way, in one o' those villages near the source o' the Wulfrum. They had six o' them, strung up on poles. They were crowing like a bunch o' farmyard roosters: “Aye, will my lady no' be happy with us! Aye, will we no' be heroes when we get back!” It made me sick to my stomach.'

‘But if someone has been rousing the wolves … it could only be Tabithas! I thought she was dead. I have had no word o' her since she disappeared after the Burning.'

‘No-one has,' Seychella said softly.

The mention of Tabithas the Wolf-Runner made Isabeau sit upright. Tabithas NicRuraich had been Keybearer of the Coven at the time of the Day of Betrayal. Like many of her clan, she had had a wolf as her familiar, a great grey beast that, like his mistress, had been more comfortable in the forests and mountains of Rurach than in the gardens and courtyards of the Tower of Two Moons. Meghan often smiled when telling how the sight of Tabithas' wolf lounging near her foot had caused many a recalcitrant prionnsa to blanch and tremble, when moments before they had been proud and cold as a glacier.

‘That's no' all o' it. The villagers be talking about some strange new horror that seems to work in Maya's favour. It can hardly be seen but it's grey and has wings and its gaze casts a spell on people so they canna shout or run. It steals bairns from their beds, particularly those with Talented bloodlines, and in Blèssem they say anyone who mutters against the Banrìgh is found dead, a smile o' ecstasy on their face.'

‘A Mesmerd? Surely no' …'

‘What is a Mesmerd?' Seychella spat the syllable out like bitter fruit.

‘The Mesmerdean are creatures o' mists and mud. They come from the Murkmyre, and are perhaps the most dangerous o' all the faery, for they do not think or feel as we do. What one sees, all see, and what one hears, all hear, and ye canna lie to them for they do no' listen to your words but only to the intent behind. They never forget, never, and are utterly ruthless. I have never heard o' a Mesmerd out o' Arran before—I wonder if the NicFóghnan is meddling in our affairs again? That clan has always been an enemy o' the MacCuinns …'

‘They sound most blaygird, though no-one I spoke to had actually seen one, only … found the bodies they left behind.'

‘I wonder …' Meghan looked as though she was about to say more, but then her eye fell upon Isabeau, noting her shining eyes and eager face, and she stopped herself, picking up her knitting instead.

‘What kind o' witch are ye?' Isabeau asked Seychella, gazing intently at the woman whose untidy hair snaked around the seat of her chair and fell to the floor.

‘What makes ye think I am a witch?' Seychella asked in a voice of deadly calm. Isabeau said nothing. After a moment Seychella laughed. ‘I appear out o' nowhere, I speak o' power and Talent; I ken Tabithas. Silly question.' After another pause, she said quietly, ‘I am a wind witch, Isabeau.'

‘Can ye teach me to fly?' Isabeau asked eagerly. That had always been her secret desire. Once she had broken her ankle, trying to take flight from the bough of a tree after reading of the antics of Ishbel the Winged, a witch who flew as effortlessly as any bird. Meghan set her ankle and bound it with herbs and mud, and fed her bone-strengthening teas, scolding and mocking all the while. Isabeau had only tossed her red head and ignored her, sure she would one day crack the secrets of flight, as Ishbel the Winged had done.

The two witches looked at each other, and Seychella curled her lip. ‘The bairn wants to fly! Only the most powerful learn to fly, my dear, I doubt ye have the capacity.'

Isabeau flushed again, and blurted out, ‘Well, do ye? Can ye fly?' With her red hair falling out of its braids into twists and tangles around her face and her red cheeks, Isabeau looked as though sparks would literally burst from her head.

Meghan had to laugh, murmuring, ‘Ye see why I think she will take to fire!'

The other witch looked quite taken aback, then angry at Isabeau's question. Then she gave a harsh laugh. ‘No, lassie, I canna. At least, no' the way ye mean it. I can jump a twelve-foot fence and I'll never fall out o' a tree, but I canna fly.'

‘I've read about a witch who could fly from one end o' the country to another in a week, and who could do somersaults and backflips in the air.'

‘Ishbel! Well, a Talent like Ishbel's does no' come along too often.' Seychella sighed. ‘I fear we'll no' see a Talent like it again in our lifetime. Damn and blast the Banrìgh! So many witches killed, so much ability lost.'

‘I've also read about witches who folded the fabric o' the universe and sailed across space. Is that true?'

‘Where did ye read that! It's forbidden, ye ken, to talk about the Great Crossing. Ye'd be put to the Question if ye were heard! What sort o' book did ye read that in, lassie?'

Meghan cleared her throat. ‘I've always had a passion for books.'

‘But that's a story she could only be reading about in
The Book o' Shadows
, which was destroyed by the Banrìgh on the Day o' Betrayal!' Seychella was sitting bolt upright, her cheeks crimson. ‘She would be burnt by the Awl if they heard her saying such things—they deny all stories o' the Great Crossing now, ye must ken that?'

‘I wrote down what I could remember, from all the books. So many books were burnt, so much knowledge lost. I was afraid it would never be found again if someone did no' try to remember.'

Isabeau said nothing, thoughtfully choosing another honeycake from the plate on the unsteady table by the fire. She knew as well as Meghan did that although many of the scrolls and books piled on every table and shelf were written in Meghan's spidery handwriting, this particular book was an enormous, ancient affair, bound in red leather, with a tarnished silver key as long as Isabeau's longest finger. Each page was filled with handwriting different to the page that had gone before; many were ornately illustrated with brightly coloured pictures of dragons and winged horses, or the tracks of stars and moons, or the shape of unfamiliar lands. Like many of Meghan's books, the last page was empty, untouched, yet Isabeau knew that if you should write on that page and turn the leaf, there would be another blank page there waiting for your pen.

As Isabeau wondered why Meghan had denied the book's existence, Seychella, apparently accepting Meghan's explanation, went on to talk about how difficult it was to get the right ingredients for spells and medicines when the merchants' ships no longer dared face the sea serpents. ‘I am almost out o' rhinfrew,' the witch said testily, ‘and the Power ken, I have no' much murkwoad left either.'