Page 67 of The Crown of Moonlight
The track along the head of the loch leads past the ruins of a church.The traditional large standing stone guards the entrance, but someone has long since scratched out the crescent moon symbol of the Cailleach, the Great Mother, until even the shape of it is all but gone.
A pair of Hallow Keepers, the silent Shadelings who guard the sacred places, emerge from the shadows of the building and incline their heads as we pass.Flora places her hand to her heart, but she doesn’t look back.
Beyond the church, the windows of the rush-thatched cottages in a small hamlet are starting to light, yellow flickering in one window and then another.Chickens peck in the gardens, and a Shadehound uncurls itself from the nearest doorstep and trots to meet Flora as she approaches, its feet making no sound on the hard-packed track.
Flora puts a tentative hand out for the hound to sniff, then pats its head while I weave an illusion to mask myself to resemble an elderly human male.Flora and the Shadehound watch me with identical expressions of mild amusement.
“Do I look harmless enough?”I ask.
“As harmless as a man with a magic sword can ever look.”
I arrange a broad section of the great kilt to hide the crystal pommel.Then Flora knocks at the cottage.A young woman answers with a baby on her hip and three boys—none of them more than five or six—peeking around her skirt.
She looks wary as Flora introduces herself and asks where we might buy some food.“It’s only me and the boys here, my lady—and my father Donal.But you’re welcome to share our meal.”
Flora smiles at the children, and they grin back shyly, then one darts forward and tugs at my plaid for attention before his mother pushes him out of the way.Stubbornly, he pauses a short distance away.“Have you seen my father, sir?He was fighting—”
“Hush, wee man.Mind your manners and go play with your brothers,” the woman says, turning back to Flora.
Flora tries to smile.“Your offer is very kind, but we’ve a fair distance to go yet.I hoped we might buy whatever you or your neighbours can spare.I know that’s not much these days.”
The old man stands up from the table where he’s seated.“Won’t be safe for any Domhnall to travel in Ehrugael.Especially you, Lady of Dunhaelic.There’s Cymbeul militia about, and the Butcher himself.”
“The Butcher?Where?”I ask, somewhat sharply.
The old man is missing an arm at the elbow, and he’s younger than I thought at first.I search my memory, trying to place him.His eyes are a clear blue and sharp.They narrow as he looks me over, then his attention comes to rest on the pommel of my sword.He starts to drop to his knee at the same moment that I realise the boy tugged the drape of my plaid aside.
I catch his good arm to keep him upright.Our eyes meet, and I give him a small shake of my head.“Have you seen the Butcher yourself?”
The old man studies me a beat too long, and I notice Flora watching us both.Her face has lost all expression.
“He rode through on the way to Gleannadail House, Your—” He swallows visibly.“Sir.But more militia and the queen’s red-coated peacocks arrive every day.Too many for Dun Uilleum to hold, so they’re quartering in all the larger houses.Meanwhile, they thieve and rape, pretending to search for…the king and his Riders.The Butcher’s offered £30,000 in reward—enough for a man to buy most of Ehrugael.There’s not a Domhnall here who’d take it, though.You can believe that.”He glances at Flora and gives her a nod.“Don’t matter what side Domhnalls fight for, we’ll not betray anyone.”
“Good man,” Flora says.“And what of Alasdair of Gleannadail?Is there news of him and his family?”
The man’s face turns sour.“Red coats took Gleannadail himself and his son to Dun Uilleum in chains.Put his wife and two girls on a boat.Claimed to be taking them to the Tower in Dunfithic.”
The young woman returns with two bundles of oilcloth in time to hear his words.She pauses and looks at her father, then turns to me with her brows raised.
“This is more than I hoped,” Flora says, taking the bundles from her gently.“We’re truly grateful.”She holds a gold coin out.
“We don’t take charity in this house.”The woman draws back, her chin raised.“My husband will be back soon, and my own back is strong.”
“What’s your name?”Flora asks.
“Mairi, my lady.”
“I’m Flora, please.And I’m paying what the food is worth to us in this moment.You’d do me a kindness to accept it and take your family away from here while you still can.If you can travel as far as Dunhaelic, ask for Faolan and tell him that I sent you.”
Mairi holds out her palm to take the coin, but her father catches her hand to stop her.“We’ll accept no coin for helping either of you,” he says.“But we’ll go to Dunhaelic and find a way to make ourselves useful until you’re home again.”
He shifts his gaze from Flora to me, holding my eyes until I nod.
Flora kisses Mairi on the cheek, then steps back.“I hope you and your boys stay safe, and that your husband and all the Domhnall men will come home soon.”
“Thank you for that, and may the Lord Father save the king,” the old man answers, glancing from Flora back to me.“It’s in my heart to hope that the king knows that every true man in Ehrugael will still stand with him whenever it’s time to fight again.”
Flora drapes the plaid over her head as we return to the horses and put the food away.She’s quiet, her face averted, and no sooner has she swung herself into Eira’s saddle than she kicks the mare into a run and retraces our path back towards the eastern side of the loch.
