The Shining One (The Swordswoman Book 2)

by Malcolm Archibald

  'Whatever I wish?' Hector repeated Melcorka's words, licking his lips as he gazed lasciviously over her body.

  'Whatever you wish,' Melcorka fought her desperation as Olwen's stick rubbing began to show fruit. She was experienced in such matters now and soon a thin column of smoke drifted from the sticks and a few sparks were showing.

  'And you will promise to return?' Hector moved forward with his hands outstretched, as if he could not wait to place them on Melcorka's body.

  'You have my word,' Melcorka said. She waited until Hector's finger-tips brushed against her and then moved further away, tempting him without allowing contact.

  Olwen blew on her glowing need sticks and applied them to a small pile of wood shavings. Within a minute smoke was coiling around a number of ominous yellow flames. She thrust a torch into the burgeoning fire, glanced at Bradan and smiled. 'I will remember you, Bradan, as you are now, and you will be a long time burning for the glory of Bel.'

  'Do you agree with my proposal, Hector?' Melcorka could not keep the urgency from her voice. The westerly wind blew blue smoke from the fire over Bradan, who closed his eyes and coughed. 'Hector?' Melcorka arched her back slightly and shifted her hips, doing all she could to ignite his lust. She inched closer, allowing him a subtle touch.

  'I agree then,' Hector's gaze did not stray from the region of Melcorka's breasts until he looked up, shifty eyed. 'With one condition.'

  'Name it … quickly!'

  Melcorka watched as Olwen placed her torch into the burning wood-shavings, shielding the yellow-orange flames from the ever-present wind. She saw Bradan glance at the torch and look away.

  'The child stays with me.' Hector said. 'As insurance. If you do not return within three months, then she will take Bradan's place between Bel's fires.'

  Olwen thrust her now-burning torch into the first of the waiting piles of wood, waited until the flames licked up and then casually patted Bradan's thigh as she brushed past to apply the torch to the second.

  'Agreed!' Melcorka said urgently, 'as long as Tuath looks after her.' As Hector hesitated, she slipped down the top of her leine, allowing Hector a long look at what was beneath. 'Is it a bargain?'

  Olwen had stepped clear of the fires and seated herself on a large rock that afforded her a perfect view of Bradan's torment. She lifted her hand in the sign of Bel, with all the other priestesses copying her. As Olwen remained sitting the others began a slow chant and formed a circle around the sacred trees, with numbers of spectators crowding round, pointing and whispering excitedly together. The fire was beginning to increase, without many flames but with a fierce heat that would melt Bradan's skin, blister his eyeballs and boil the blood within his veins. It would not be a quick death.

  'Well, Hector?' Melcorka knew she could not allow Bradan to die. If Hector disagreed she would kill him and free Bradan. After that … after that she would have to persuade Tuath to tell her where Alva was and she knew that would not be an easy task.

  'No;' Hector spoke without urgency. 'I want Tuath to go with you as extra security. I will leave the child with Igraine, Tuath's wife. She will be safe there until you return … or until we sacrifice her to Bel.'

  Bradan was already gasping in the heat. He writhed as a gust of wind sent a flame to lick at his legs, scorching the hairs on his calves. Olwen gave a small smile and rose to see the results, peering through the sun-sign.

  'Agreed,' Melcorka said quickly.

  'Then we have a bargain,' Hector said and reached forward to squeeze Melcorka's left breast.

  As soon as he said the words, Melcorka pushed him aside and dashed forward, dragging Defender from her scabbard. Her first slice freed Bradan's right wrist, her second his left and then she caught him as he staggered.

  'Thank you, Melcorka,' he said, coughing.

  'There is a price,' she hacked away the bonds on his ankles. 'We can discuss that later.'

  'There is always a price,' Bradan said.

  Olwen was standing watching with her mouth open in disappointment. 'Sacrilege!' She screamed. Without hesitation and with utter satisfaction, Melcorka pushed her so she fell backward to sit down hard amidst the fire. She squealed and jumped up, slapping her hands on her ample backside. Melcorka pushed her again, resisted the temptation to hold her there and instead watching as the priestess leaped up, clutching herself and shrieking.

  'That is the best thing I have seen for some days,' Melcorka said, and noticed that Tuath was also having difficulty in repressing his smile while Hector was laughing openly as he watched the antics of the priestess of Bel. 'Perhaps there is still hope on this island.'

  'Perhaps so,' Bradan agreed.

  Chapter Nine

  'If we are to pursue these Caterans, we will need a boat,' Melcorka said.

  They sat on three legged stools in the small chamber in the broch where Tuath lived with Igraine. The stone walls were decorated with green boughs and a simple tapestry showing an apple tree. Alva sat on the floor opposite, watching and freely offering her five year old wisdom where she thought it most needed.

  'There are many boats on the island,' Tuath said. 'We can just take one, or if you prefer, Hector will order the owner to give you one.'

  'I want my own boat,' Melcorka said, 'one that I can trust; one built by a master boat-builder.'

  'Finlay MacCodrum is the best builder in the island.' Igraine was stout and cheerful, with the ubiquitous red thread around her finger and a necklace of red beads around her neck. 'He is your man.'

  'That is where we go then,' Melcorka said. 'Alva, you have to stay here with Igraine. She will look after you while we are gone.' Melcorka did not mention the threat that hung over her head. The child had been through enough without adding more to her burden.

  'Can't I come, Melcorka?' Alva asked. 'I will be quiet and I could help.'

  'No little one,' Igraine pulled her close. 'I need you here to help me. I have always wanted a little daughter like you.'

  As he left the chamber, Melcorka took Igraine aside. 'If we fail, Igraine, make it quick and painless.'

  'She does not know,' Tuath said shortly.

  'What don't I know?' Igraine asked. 'What are you keeping from me?'

  'Nothing that should concern you,' Tuath said.

  'What don't I know that should not concern me, Tuath, you great lump?'

  Tuath gave Melcorka a warning look. 'Hector has plans for Alva if we do not destroy the Osprey's nest, Igraine.'

  'What plans … no, don't tell me.' Igraine put protective arms around Alva. 'He will have to deal with me first!'

  'I do not envy him that task,' Melcorka murmured. Although she knew that Hector or Conall were quite capable of killing Igraine if they chose, she felt slightly reassured to know that Alva was in caring hands, at least for the present.

  Tuath gave a slow smile and nodded to her. 'Alva will be safe,' he said. They both knew he was being more hopeful than accurate.

  Finlay MacCodrum lived in a small cottage on a peninsula on the very north west of the island, with the sea breaking frothy green to the north and west and a deep sheltered harbour to the east. He was surrounded by lengths of wood ready for planking, and hides of animals for the hulls of skin curraghs, while a host of children played in and out of the water without concern for anybody or anything.

  'This is a place outside the fear of the island,' Bradan said.

  'Finlay MacCodrum and his good woman are within Hector's peace but outwith the laws of hardship and duty. Nobody comes here except on nautical business and nobody harasses him.' Tuath made the sun-sign. 'That is the way of life with Finlay MacCodrum.'

  'That is a good way,' Melcorka said, watching as five children jumped into the sheltered water, one after the other with hardly a splash. A woman stood by the water, her black hair sleek and her face serene.

  'Welcome to our home,' the woman said quietly, eyeing Melcorka's sword. 'All are welcome here if they come in peace.'

  'Peace to this house and all in it,' Bradan r
eplied, 'and God bless the work.'

  The woman smiled. 'Would that be our god,' she made the sun-sign, 'or your god?' She made the sign of the Cross.

  'Both,' Bradan replied cheerfully. 'And any other god that wishes to bless you is equally welcome.'

  The woman's smile broadened. 'And all are welcome to bless your journey, Bradan the Wanderer. Your name is known, you see.' She proffered an open hand. 'I am Una, although it is my husband, Finlay the boat-builder that you seek.'

  Finlay MacCodrum was a man of middle height and middle age, with steadier eyes than any man Melcorka had yet encountered on this island and a hard as hard as the timber of the boats he built. 'What sort of a vessel were you after?'

  'We want a small one that can hold about half a dozen people and is seaworthy in all conditions.' Bradan said at once.

  'I have that boat ready,' Finlay told him after a short pause. 'She is easy to sail or row and if I build her, she won't sink.'

  'You have our boat ready? How can this be when we have only approached you this very moment?' Melcorka asked. She saw the woman behind Finlay smile at her words and knew that there was something uncanny about this house.

  'My lady told me you were coming,' Finlay said. 'She said you would need a boat as you described for voyages more perilous than you knew and longer than you expect.'

  'Your lady sees things that may happen?' Melcorka looked at the dark haired Una, trying to work out her age. She could have been twenty or forty, or even a hundred and twenty; looks such as hers were ageless, and priceless.

  'Not so,' Finlay said. 'My lady sees things that will happen. She is of my mother's people.' He held up his hands, fingers spread and Melcorka saw that they were webbed.

  'You are not of this island,' she said. 'That is why Hector MacRae is wary of you.'

  'My mother was a selkie,' Finlay said quietly, 'as is my lady.' His eyes sought and held Melcorka's, as if challenging her to comment or complain.

  'A selkie?' Melcorka asked. 'I've heard the term but I am unsure what it means.'

  Finlay looked slightly relieved. 'My mother and my lady are both of the race of selkies. They were from the long-ago when the King of Lochlann sent his ambassadors to this land of Alba and to Erin. They angered Bel, who did not like the idea of friendship between the nations and he ordered that the ambassadors should all be killed, but Llyr the sea-god had mercy and fought Bel for their lives. Now they are selkies, seals who can take human form, not entirely of the land and not only of the sea.'

  'It is a blessing that Llyr has given the selkie people.' Unsure how Una viewed her position, Melcorka did not address her directly.

  'It is more a curse not to be one thing or another,' Una spoke with the hush of the sea in her voice. 'Yet a blessing to be of both.' Her smile revealed sharp little teeth. 'I am lucky that I found an understanding man.'

  'Then God's peace upon you and yours,' Melcorka gave a little curtsey.

  'And the blessing of Llyr upon you and on your boat,' Una replied. 'May she never sink and may nobody who sails in her ever suffer the fate of drowning.'

  'So you are doubly blessed,' Finlay said solemnly, 'for my boats are blessed through the blood of my mother and now also through the words of Una, my lady and the mother of my children.'

  'There will be payment for the boat,' Tuath said. 'Hector will do that part.'

  'He will do that for us,' Finlay said with a small smile. 'Or he will have no more work from me. Now, let me introduce you to your vessel.'

  At about twenty feet, she was longer than Melcorka had expected, built of seasoned timber imported from the islands to the south. Finlay had hewn the timber into planks and laid them edge-over-edge in clinker fashion before fastening them with wooden nails. She was high prowed and high sterned, yet broad in the beam for stability, flexible to ride the roughest of seas, with a shallow keel for sea-lochs and shallow coastal waters. In the bows, two eyes peered forward so she could see where she was going.

  'The eyes were Catriona's idea,' Finlay nodded to one of his daughters, who grinned her delight at being acknowledged. Bradan ruffled her sleek black hair, as he did with all children, and Catriona nearly purred with glee.

  'She is well made,' Melcorka ran her hand along her hull. 'And the sail will give extra power.' The boat had a central mast of Scots Pine, a central rudder in the stern and two oars each side.

  'She is light enough to be rowed by one man and long enough to be rowed by four, if you sit side by side,' Finlay said.

  'Has she a name?' Melcorka asked.

  'She is Catriona,' Finlay said, 'after my mother and this daughter.'

  'That is a good name to have,' Melcorka smiled to the younger human Catriona, 'and we shall care for Catriona as she will care for us.'

  'We will eat first,' Una said, 'and then you will take her into the calm water to test her out.' She looked directly into Bradan's eyes. 'Tomorrow you will start your voyage into troubled seas.'

  'Will we succeed in our quest, Una of the selkies?' Bradan asked.

  Una stooped and lifted a handful of seawater, which she threw into the air, peering at Bradan and Melcorka through the mist of falling water. 'There is much confusion,' she said, 'and much deception. I see the death of a child who is not young and the discovery of a truth.'

  'Alva?' Melcorka asked as a deep stab of pain hit her.

  'I cannot tell,' Una said. 'I cannot tell at all.'

  'If Alva dies,' Melcorka touched the hilt of Defender, 'then I shall destroy Hector's clan, root and branch and make a devastation of this Ulvust.'

  'Let us hope that she lives, then,' Una said, 'for you are a woman of your word.'

  'You and yours will be safe,' Melcorka promised. She held Una's gaze. 'You will not bring harm to me and mine and I will not bring harm to you and yours.'

  'I will not harm yours,' Una said. 'Although I know that others have. Before your quest is done there will be blood on your sword.'

  'Then that is what will happen,' Melcorka said quietly.

  They left as dawn kissed the sea, with tiny ripples breaking silver on the pebbled beach under the boat-builders house and a dozen MacCodrum children standing ankle deep in the water to wish them farewell. Their first voyage was coastwise, with Melcorka pleased with how well Catriona handled and Bradan noticing how the fishing boats all made for home on their approach.

  'They are even scared of a small vessel like us,' he said.

  'That is the reason that Hector wishes us to destroy the Caterans' lair.' Melcorka touched the tiller and Catriona veered immediately to port or starboard. 'Catriona steers better than any boat I have ever known.'

  'We have a fine boat,' Bradan agreed as they sailed around Ulvust to Port-nan-loch where Hector waited for them with suspicion in his face and Conall at his side. Tuath was a step behind him, his axe balanced on his shoulder and Igraine close by. Alva looked up from her concentrated study of the rock-pools to wave to them and then returned to her important search for marine life.

  'I knew you could be trusted to return,' Tuath said as they stepped ashore.

  Igraine and Melcorka exchanged glances. 'I will take care of her,' Igraine said softly. She ran her eye up the length of Melcorka's body, from her long legs, past the swell of her hips to the trim waist and firm breasts and glanced at Tuath. Her question was unspoken but unambiguous.

  'Tuath is safe with me,' Melcorka said softly. 'He is your man, not mine.'

  Igraine nodded. 'Then we both have something precious to look after for the other.' She waited until Tuath stepped away to talk with Hector. 'He is faithful, yet he is still a man; he can be tempted.'

  'I will not be doing any tempting,' Melcorka said. 'And the way he looks at you, I think you have no reason to worry.'

  They clasped hands and watched as Bradan and Tuath loaded supplies and water into Catriona.

  'Hurry! We can catch the tide!' Bradan said. He ruffled Alva's hair, smiling as she pulled away. 'You look after Igraine now, and behave yourself.'


  'You look after Melcorka and you behave yourself!' Alva replied and was promptly rebuked by Igraine for being cheeky.

  'I'll take care of her,' Igraine promised, with a hand on Alva's shoulder.

  'I know you will,' Melcorka said; she saw Conall watching from the corner of a cottage, with a twisted smile on his face and evil in his eyes. 'We'll be back,' she told him, 'and Alva had better be fit and healthy when we are.'

  There were a few moments of confusion while they clattered into Catriona, shifting water kegs to the stern and sacks of meal to the driest parts of the ship before they settled down on the rowing benches.

  'Safe voyage,' Igraine said and only Melcorka noticed the bright dampness of her eyes.

  'I am no seaman,' Tuath grumbled as he took his place at the oars.

  'Then this will be a new experience for you,' Melcorka told him. 'The sea can be kind or it can be cruel; we are lucky in our boat and lucky in our company, for you and I are warriors and we know what we set out to do.'

  'And him?' Tuath jerked a thumb toward Bradan. 'He is only a man with a stick; he is neither warrior nor artisan, druid nor Brehon.'

  'He is Bradan,' Melcorka said, 'my guide and my mentor; and my friend.'

  'He is not worthy of you,' Tuath said. 'If I was not a man with a wife I would kill him and carry you off myself.'

  'You would find him hard to kill,' Melcorka smiled, 'and although I appreciate the compliment, I think you are better suited to the wife you have. I will keep Bradan a little longer.' And maybe longer than a little, she thought.

  Bradan looked at them both. 'You are correct, Tuath. I am no warrior. And you are also correct, Melcorka; I would be hard for Tuath to kill. Not because I am fierce in any way, but because he is a true fighting man and not a coward who would misuse his skill in murdering an unarmed man.'

  'You do not know me, Bradan,' Tuath growled from his bench.

  'I do not,' Bradan agreed. 'But I do know what type of man you are.'

  Tuath looked at him without saying anything, spat into the sea and addressed Melcorka. 'We know that the Caterans are in Inch Iolaire, yet nobody is sure of the best route there or exactly where it is. It is as if Llyr himself, or something worse, has cast a fog over that island to protect it from man. Even the Constable has tried to reduce it, and was baffled by the currents and whirlpools that only the Osprey knows.'