Silenced, Risha rested her head back and closed her eyes.
Muir’s hand squeezed her shoulder.
Risha jumped, her search for her dagger stilled when Fenn’s voice came reassuringly out of the dark. ‘Don’t know whether to thank the damned clouds or curse them.’
The woman’s shape appeared through the trees.
‘You’re on foot?’ Muir asked.
‘Long story. The docks are swarming with soldiers. I took Lakebird out and moored her beyond Petit Island — easier to explain an evening sail than to get the two of you through the crowd of Westlarn soldiers on the jetties. We need to get back to the boat tonight so we can get away at dawn,’ she added.
Muir fetched the horses without further questions.
‘You’re squelching,’ Risha said.
‘So will you be. There are no natural harbours or beaches along that stretch of the shore.’
Muir handed Mica’s reins to Fenn. ‘Risha can ride behind me.’
‘What did you do with your horse?’ Risha asked.
‘Left her in the care of the neighbour’s lad. Yours will have to take their chances.’
The wedge of moon dipped in and out of scudding clouds, giving barely enough light to show the sheep track they followed. Trusting Muir to find their way, Risha wrapped her arms loosely around his waist, content to feel the warmth of his back beneath her cheek.
‘Here,’ Fenn said at last.
Risha slid down, bracken crackling beneath her boots. The lake lay below, its water dark and treacherous. On the horizon a silhouette, black on black, might have been an island.
‘The water’s cold but not deep. Dinghy’s moored to a branch. I’ll fetch it, but there’s no way to get in without getting your feet wet.’
A moment later there was a slithering rush and a dull splash.
‘Fenn?’
‘Hush.’
Muir slung the horses’ saddles and bridles over his shoulder, leaving Risha to manage the saddlebags.
‘Will they be all right?’ she asked, as Mica snuffled her palm.
‘Someone will find them in the morning and take them in. Probably assume they broke their pickets.’
There was a satisfied sound from below, and Fenn’s sloshing steps. The clouds cleared and Risha caught a glimpse of the woman, thigh-deep in the black water as she towed a dinghy close in along the steep shore.
Muir slapped both horses’ rumps, sending them trotting back toward Leighton.
‘Take care getting down,’ Fenn called in a hoarse whisper.
The advice proved superfluous. The bank went from steep to vertical and Risha hit the water in a slithering splash, gasping at the cold. A following splash and low curse told her Muir’s entry had been no more graceful than her own.
‘Muir?’
Something nudged Risha’s thigh. Just in time she bit back a cry. It was the dinghy. She gripped the side with shaking hands.
‘Put the bags in and climb after. I’ll hold it steady. Keep your weight low.’
It proved less easy than it sounded. Risha earned herself scraped knees and a scathing sound from Fenn. Muir hopped awkwardly on one leg before lunging aboard, the little boat rocking wildly.
‘Try to get your weight balanced,’ Fenn hissed.
When they had arranged themselves, she climbed in neatly, the dip and drip of the oars the only sound as she rowed them away from the shore.
The dark mass of the island loomed on their left. Risha glimpsed its sharp flank and a steep rocky shore. Lakebird’s silhouette stood beyond.
They managed the transfer to the larger vessel without mishap.
‘Go below and dry off while I take us out. No lights yet,’ Fenn said.
Risha missed her footing and stumbled the last two steps. She was shivering. Groping through her saddlebags she found trousers and jerkin. Her hands shook with cold as she stripped off her sodden dress and tried to chafe a little warmth into her damp skin.
Someone clattered down the stairs — Muir. He crashed into something and cursed.
‘Over here.’ She hurriedly pulled on her clothes, feeling shy despite the dark.
‘That bath-house of yours would do nicely about now,’ he said, as he fumbled his way to the table.
She mumbled assent through chattering teeth.
Fenn joined them soon after, squeezing in beside Risha. ‘You’re cold.’ She opened a locker and found blankets. ‘We’ll eat once it’s light.’
Risha peered up through the hatchway. A faint hint of grey was threading the sky behind them, too thin, as yet, to drown the stars. ‘The clouds have cleared.’
‘Aye, for now.’
‘What’s the news from Leighton?’ Muir asked.
‘Goltoy is pulling his men out of Havre; every man in the tavern had a theory about why.’
‘Any seem likely?’ Muir asked.
‘None more than any other. If we didn’t have Risha’s dream to go on, it wouldn’t make any sense.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘News of the wedding?’
‘Seems it went ahead without disruption.’
Risha wriggled her toes to get the blood flowing. ‘Did no one think it wrong that Lady Havre should be forced to marry into Westlaw?’
‘They might have thought it, but they wouldn’t say it, not with Westlaw’s soldiers lining the streets.’ Fenn stood up. ‘I’ll be glad to get some distance on the town.’
Risha followed her on deck. The stars had conceded the sky, a faint golden wash rising from behind the eastern hills, the strip of cloud above shining watermelon pink.
‘Do you suppose Lyse will be all right?’ Risha asked. She couldn’t find the words to properly say what she meant.
Fenn began to lift the anchor. ‘There are worse things. Here, hold this while I set the sails.’
With a hiss of rope and sigh of canvas the sail loosened and spread, catching a bellyful of wind that sent them scything through the water. Fenn adjusted the lines.
‘She’ll be fine,’ she added. ‘He might not be the man of her choosing, but that wouldn’t put her at odds with plenty of women her age.’
Risha’s guilt was unappeased.
Quarter of an hour later the sun tipped the hills, Fenn steering them towards it, while Risha went below to make breakfast.
The wind rose steadily and they made good time. When Merren’s headland came in sight it was not yet midmorning.
Croft was waiting at the bay. Fenn anchored and took the dinghy ashore to fetch him.
‘Thought you couldn’t be far off,’ he said, as he swung aboard. His face was still misshapen, the bruising garishly coloured. ‘Nolan and Lillet have gone to Caledon for news. Seems like you were right.’ He looked at Risha. ‘Word is that Donnel’s invaded Westlaw.’
They settled around the table in Lakebird’s small cabin to hear the rest of his news.
‘After Minna had another visit from Vormer’s henchmen, Nolan decided the best thing would be to meet up at Churton. Doesn’t seem right to keep putting her at risk.’
Muir grunted agreement.
Croft grinned at Risha’s frown. ‘Told the Cap you wouldn’t like it,’ he said. ‘But it doesn’t make it a bad decision, just because you didn’t make it.’
‘I didn’t say it was a bad decision.’ She folded her arms, then unfolded them.
‘You’ve done your best by both your father and Lyse. You don’t have to win the whole war, lass.’
‘I don’t want there to be a war.’
‘Aye, well, that might be a little out of your hands.’ He scratched his head. ‘Let’s wait and see what the news is from Caledon.’
Churton lay on the broad eastern arm of CaledonWater. Risha stared at the dark fronds of weed that swayed beneath their hull as Fenn navigated the neck.
‘Original settlement was at the head of the arm, until weed clogged the bay. The town lies just behind that point.’
Moments later they saw it, thirty or so houses pleated along the side
of the hill. The town didn’t look particularly prosperous or welcoming, but Risha thought she might forgive it a lot if it offered a comfortable bed.
‘There’s Egret,’ Fenn said, as she steered them within the stone arm of the jetty.
‘And Nolan.’
The man jumped on board as soon as Lakebird came alongside. ‘It’s a relief to see you.’ His eyes roamed Risha’s face. ‘You saw Ciaran?’
‘She’s well, and said the same of Lyse.’ Risha wondered briefly whether it would still be true. Turning from his scrutiny, she went to help Fenn secure the boat.
‘Rumours are thicker in the city than flies on a dead horse,’ Nolan told them, once they were all crowded into Lakebird’s small cabin. ‘Risha’s vision is likely truer than any.’
‘Westlaw’s troops were pulling back across the river at Leighton,’ Fenn said. ‘There was no shortage of theories about why.’
‘It’s hard to judge speculation from fact,’ Nolan said, ‘but it seems likely Donnel landed in Westlaw four days ago.’
‘Lyse’s wedding day,’ Risha murmured.
‘Do we know the size of his force?’ Muir asked.
‘I’d be guessing, but it’s probably safe to assume he has the better part of Bruer’s fleet behind him. It’s said they took the city in two days.’
‘They took Westlaw’s capital?’
‘If rumours are to be believed, and that one is persistent.’ He paused. ‘So is the one that says Goltoy’s wife and son were in the city.’
‘Rillon or Osser?’
‘The younger, Rillon. But Osser’s wife and baby as well as Rillon’s sons.’
Croft whistled. ‘That’s some bargaining chip. Should see Lyse and Ciaran out of trouble.’
Risha was less certain. ‘Are you sure he has hostages? Has he made any overtures?’
‘Not that we’ve heard,’ Nolan said. ‘But then our news is a day or more old and there are conflicting accounts. Best we don’t take any of it as certain yet.’
‘There’ll be truth where the accounts coincide,’ Fenn said.
‘Which would leave Donnel in possession of Westlaw’s stronghold in the north while Goltoy is caught up playing games on his southern border. I’d have liked to have seen his face when word reached him.’
The thought of the man’s rage was not an image Risha cared to dwell on. ‘Would that neither Ciaran nor Lyse saw it.’
‘Goltoy has a temper, but your father has him over a barrel,’ Nolan replied. ‘Donnel can set whatever peace terms he likes.’
‘Donnel won’t be offering terms,’ Muir said. ‘Nor will Goltoy expect them.’
‘What do you mean?’ Nolan asked. ‘He’s in the perfect position.’
‘Aye, for several things. And peace is not likely among them.’ Muir’s left hand lay on the table. He pressed it flat, spreading his fingers wide.
‘What are you saying, Muir?’
His answer seemed directed to Risha alone. ‘When Cattra died Donnel made a promise to avenge her. He has waited eighteen years to keep it.’ His mouth tightened as he stared at her, his eyes dark with something she could not understand. ‘I doubt he plans to wait longer.’
Honour
Muir went the next day to find horses. The town yielded only one, and that unlikely to manage any great distance.
‘The innkeeper suggested I try Annat. He says there’s a retired smith who breeds horses not far from the village. Do you know the place?’
Fenn stood. ‘It’s up the shore a way. I could take you — be quicker than riding that old nag.’
Annat proved a scattering of cottages along the waterline with the hills rising steeply behind. Muir eyed it dubiously. There was not even a jetty. Fenn moored them to a buoy and Muir and Croft rowed ashore.
‘Rest,’ Fenn told Risha, when she proposed going with them. ‘You look exhausted.’
Muir returned an hour later. ‘He sold us two and hired two others. Two of his lads are riding them back with Croft.’
‘I’d be happy to ride with them,’ Risha said.
‘Easier to sail.’
‘Muir, I’m not a child needing to be pampered.’
He smiled tightly. ‘No, but a young woman who is hard to protect. There’s no point taking risks unless we have to,’ he added.
‘But it’s all right for Croft to take a risk? Perhaps you should have ridden with him.’
Muir’s nostrils flared as he bit down on whatever answer sprang to his tongue.
Fenn intervened. ‘Risha, can you untie us from the mooring? Easier for you than Muir.’
Which caused Risha to regret her sharp words. She had not considered his ribs.
Fenn steered them out of the small bay and Risha went to sit beside Muir on the foredeck, their backs to the cabin. He glanced at her sidelong.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.’
A smile flickered at the corner of his mouth and was gone. ‘We’re all tired.’
It was true. She sighed. ‘I don’t want to live like this, Muir.’
‘You don’t have to.’
She studied him intently but he said nothing more. In the distance, towards Caledon, the bright sails of a lake trader caught the sun. Close at hand four geese bobbed placidly past. Risha tipped her head back and closed her eyes, the sun soaking into her skin. Even her bones felt tired. Her shoulder touched Muir’s and she leant a little against him, his solid warmth no less soothing than the sun.
They were nearly at Churton when Fenn called them. The sun had skipped through its arc and begun its slow slide to the west. Fenn was shading her face with one hand, the other on the tiller. Risha followed her gaze. The ketch she’d seen earlier had halved the distance that stood between the two vessels.
‘Trouble?’ Muir asked.
‘Not of the most obvious kind.’
The arm of the lake opened to their left and Fenn tacked around the point, tension evident in her face as she negotiated the shallows. The boat following mirrored their course.
As they berthed Risha jumped to the jetty and looked back toward the ketch. She squinted against the sun. ‘Fenn, it’s Olli!’ Relief bubbled within her.
The boatwoman tossed her a line. ‘It is. I’d know Curlew anywhere. What worries me is why.’
They had tied up and were waiting when Olli brought Curlew alongside. Fenn caught the line he threw, looping it neatly around a bollard.
‘Trouble?’ she asked.
‘News that’ll mean trouble. Ah, there’s my Lillet.’
The young woman called a greeting as she ran flushcheeked down the jetty. Olli embraced her.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘In good time,’ Olli said, eyes assessing the town. By the boatshed at the head of the jetty two men had paused to watch. ‘They’ll be wondering what’s going on with all this coming and going,’ Olli said.
‘They will,’ Fenn agreed. ‘Where’s Nolan?’ she asked Lillet.
‘Coming. We’d gone for a walk — I saw Curlew from the hill.’ Lillet tucked her arm through her father’s.
‘Perhaps we’d better give their tongues a direction to wag in.’
Nolan had reached the jetty. With a nod to the two townsmen he began walking towards them.
‘Here he is,’ Olli boomed. ‘The man who plans to win my daughter away from me.’
Nolan’s stride faltered. The men he’d passed had given up all pretence of disinterest.
Olli met him midway along the jetty and stood nose to nose. ‘Best I hear what you have to say before this goes any further.’
Nolan’s eyes darted between them. Lillet had gone beet-red beneath her tan. Olli clapped an arm around
Nolan’s shoulders. ‘You needn’t look so worried, lad! Is there anywhere a man can get a drink in this town?’
He continued his voluble charade for the innkeeper’s benefit, despite Lillet’s efforts to quiet him. That Olli was enjoying himself was apparent, just as that Nolan was not.
Th
eir meal done, Lillet proposed a walk, pushing her father ahead of her.
‘I might stay with the boats,’ Risha said.
‘I’m with you on that,’ Fenn agreed.
Nolan looked entirely discomforted. Fenn cast him a thin smile. When they reached Lakebird, he hesitated. ‘Risha, might I have a word?’
Fenn spoke without looking back. ‘Cabin’s free. I’ll be busy awhile on deck.’
He ushered Risha below, waving her to a bench and sitting opposite. He cleared his throat. ‘I’m not sure how Olli gained the impression I was courting Lillet. I wanted to assure you there’s been no impropriety.’
‘I wouldn’t have assumed any — though a very little might not hurt.’ She smiled at his startled expression. ‘Olli’s intention was to give the locals something to distract them from speculation.’
‘Ah.’ He looked relieved. ‘I see.’ He sat forward, his hands in loose fists on his knees. ‘Because I would not … that is …’
‘You could do worse,’ Risha said. ‘Lillet is a capable young woman, and kind with it.’
‘I—’
‘Minna seemed to think it time that you settled.’
His mouth opened and closed.
‘You must have noticed how fond of you Lillet has grown.’
There was a pause before he answered. ‘These things are not always obvious to the object of affection.’ A muscle jumped in his cheek as he stood. ‘Thank you for clarifying matters.’
Fenn came below soon after he left. ‘Everything all right?’
‘I think I might have upset Nolan.’
Fenn’s eyebrows rose. ‘Him as well?’
Risha frowned.
‘What did you say?’
‘I told him Lillet was fond of him.’
‘Ah.’
‘He might have thought it none of my business.’
‘I doubt it was that, but it’s probably better said. Lillet certainly doesn’t make any secret of it. Perhaps he needed a nudge.’ She bent to stow a rope in a locker.
‘Has Olli said yet why he’s here?’
‘Not yet. But he wouldn’t have sailed half the length of CaledonWater if he didn’t think it important.’
Donnel's Promise Page 24
