The forbidden land by Kate Forsyth

Author:Kate Forsyth [Forsyth, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, General, Magic, Epic, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy - Epic, Fiction - Fantasy, Historical, Fantasy - Series, Witches, Women warriors, Australian
ISBN: 9780451458285
Publisher: New York : Roc, 2001.
Published: 2001-05-09T23:00:00+00:00

When he was ready, she slowly eased open the door and checked outside. All was quiet, the two sentries snoring away. Finn chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully. The plan had been for her to steal one of the soldier's uniforms and to pretend to be a guard escorting a pastor through the prison. Such a sight was not uncommon in the prison, apparently, since the pastors spoke rites over those close to death, and many in the prison died every day. The prophet's filthy, emaciated state would not occasion much surprise, since many of the Tirsoilleirean pastors starved themselves willfully and refused to wash the filth and lice from their bodies, considering such peculiar behaviour holy. Finn was hesitant to strip the guard, however, in case the one whose sleep was natural should wake.

After a moment she decided to take the risk, however. Indicating the prophet should wait inside the cell, she stripped the drugged guard of his armour as quietly as she could. It was impossible to avoid some clinks and clanks, however, and once or twice the other guard stirred and once half-opened his eyes, only to mutter something incomprehensible and close them again. Finn dragged the half-naked guard within the cell, dressed herself rapidly in his unpleasantly smelling chain-mail armour, then put his helmet on her head and his gauntlets on her hands. It was all very heavy and very smelly, and Finn wrinkled her nose in distaste. At last she was ready and able to lock the cell again, hanging the keys on her belt.

The prophet was very unsteady on his feet and Finn was beside herself with impatience as he shuffled along the corridor. She took his arm and tried to urge him along faster. There was no hurrying him, though, and so she stamped down her anxiety and helped him as best she could.

It was in the wee small hours of the night and all was quiet. Finn managed to avoid most of the guards and those they did pass did not pay them much attention, even though the prophet was so clearly barely able to totter. Once they reached the stairs it was easier for he was able to lean heavily on the balustrade, and she was able to push him from behind.

They were on the top floor when Finn heard again the sound of singing. She stopped in her tracks, once again entranced by the power and beauty of the voice. It sang of running along the sea-strand, the wind in her hair, the birds calling in her ears, finding shells that sang of the ocean. Some sound must have penetrated the old man's maimed ears as well, for he lifted his grime-caked face to hers and said softly, "Be that the sea witch I hear?"

It was the first time he had spoken and Finn gaped at him in surprise. He frowned a little and said, "They may have cut off my ears but I can still hear, lad. I hear sounds, though indistinctly, and I hear with the ears o' the spirit.

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