The Swordswoman by Malcolm Archibald

Author:Malcolm Archibald [Archibald, Malcolm]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creativia
Published: 2016-07-28T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

'Come on,' Bradan took hold of Melcorka's sleeve, 'run, for the sake of your immortal soul, run!'

'I don't understand what happened here,' Melcorka stumbled after Bradan. 'We are in no danger here; Ceridwen was friendly …'

'The People of Peace are never friendly, Melcorka; they deceive and tell you what you want to hear. Run, girl, run!'

The deer no longer grazed on verdant grass and the soothing mist had altered to hard driving rain that stung Melcorka's skin and ran from her hair. Bradan dragged her through wind-stunted trees and onto a slope of rough heather scarred with burn channels and scattered with lichen-stained boulders of a hundred different shapes and sizes.

'Keep going,' Bradan said, 'I don't know the boundaries of Elfhame but I do know that the further away from that creature we are the safer we will be.'

'I think that Ceridwen was my guardian bird,' Melcorka said, 'my oystercatcher.'

'That is what it wants you to think,' Bradan said. 'They are purely evil. Run for the sake of your soul.'

They ran until the air burned in their lungs and their breathing came in harsh gasps. They ran until their legs collapsed beneath them and every stride brought searing agony to the muscles of their thighs and calves. They ran until they could not see the cone of Schiehallion and until they knew they could go no further, and still they ran, with lumbering stride following staggering lunge and then they fell side by side on a bed of sweet heather.

'Not here,' Bradan gasped the words. 'Over there, where those trees overhang the water.'

'Why there?' Melcorka asked.

'Rowan trees,' Bradan could barely speak, 'protection against magic.'

They crawled the final fifty yards, face down on the heather, and when they reached the trees Bradan clung to the nearest trunk as if his life was draining from him.

Melcorka joined him, nearly crying from sheer exhaustion. 'She was friendly,' she protested.

'Take some leaves,' Bradan plucked a dozen from the lower branches of the tree. 'Mix them with water.' He scooped a handful from the burn and crushed the leaves inside. 'Quickly, Melcorka! The Daoine Sidh could come at any time!'

Melcorka did as she was told, wondering. 'I really don't think we are in any danger,' she said.

'Never trust the Daoine Sidh!'

Bradan drank the infused water, looking sideways at Melcorka to ensure she did the same. 'Rowan is a protection,' he said. 'The Daoine Sidh are scared of rowan. I don't know why; it just is.'

The rowans formed a small clump beside an abandoned cottage. They leaned over a burn that chugged peaty-brown water downward to the boggy morass of a wide valley. Rounded bare hills rose above them, with gaunt blue granite mountains beyond that, half hidden in the dimming light of dusk. There was no sound save the chuckle of the water and the hum of insects.

'We could be safe here,' Bradan had regained his composure. He glanced around the base of the trees. 'For years now I have been hoping to find a suitable fallen rowan branch to make into a staff.

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