David Gemmell – Rigante 4 – Stormrider

‘And by his friends,’ observed Mulgrave.

Gaise placed a log on the fire. ‘You are my only friend, Mulgrave. I do not know what I would do without you. These last six weeks have been ghastly. Now you are back I feel a burden lifted from me.’

Mulgrave’s heart sank. ‘Get some rest, sir,’ he said. ‘You’ll need a clear head for the duel tomorrow.’

CHAPTER FOUR

CHARA RING WATCHED HER HUSBAND AS HE WALKED TOWARDS THE milking sheds. Two-year-old Jaim was perched on his shoulder, while six-year-old Feargol walked alongside Kaelin holding tightly to his hand. Chara leaned against the door frame, a smile on her face. Behind her Maev Ring called out testily: ‘The thaw may be coming, Chara, but it is still too cold to stand daydreaming in an open doorway.’

The younger woman stepped back inside and pushed shut the door, dropping the latch. Maev Ring was sitting at the pine table, carefully writing in a broad-leafed book. She was hunched over, peering closely at the page, a dark green shawl over her shoulders. Her red hair had more than a sprinkling of silver now, and there were harsh lines around her eyes. Yet still she was a strikingly attractive woman, thought Chara. If only she would smile more to soften her features.

‘The boy adores Kaelin,’ said Chara, moving past Maev into the long kitchen.

‘He’s a good lad, from good stock. I was always fond of Finbarr,’ said Maev. Strange, how you talk only of the dead with fondness, thought Chara.

Taking a cloth, she wrapped it round the handle of the black iron kettle, lifting it from the stove and pouring boiling water into an iron pot. To this she added three teaspoonfuls of dried herbs gathered during the summer. The mixture was mainly camomile and mint, but there was also a sprinkling of dried stinging nettle, which Chara knew was good for the rheumatism that made Maev’s fingers ache when she worked at her accounts. Allowing the tisane to brew she carried the pot into the main room and set it on a wooden mat. Then she fetched two cups, and a wax-sealed jar of honey. Maev liked to sweeten all tisanes.

The older woman leaned back from her account books and rubbed at her tired eyes. ‘It seems that this winter has been hanging around for far too long,’ she said. ‘I think I shall go mad if I do not see blue skies and sunshine before long.’

Chara sat down and poured out the tisane. Maev sweetened hers, then sipped it appreciatively. ‘It would also be good to get an uninterrupted night’s sleep,’ she said.

‘Feargol’s nightmares are still bad,’ said Chara. ‘It is not surprising. Heaven knows what the child went through on the night his parents were killed.’

‘Yet he doesn’t dream of the bear,’ said Maev. ‘He keeps talking about men with scaled faces and blood red eyes.’ She shivered. ‘Do you know he’s even got me dreaming of them?’

Chara rose from her chair and moved to the fire, which was burning low. Adding three thick chunks of wood she glanced back at Maev. ‘I have too,’ she said. ‘I wish the Dweller was closer. She would know what to do.’

‘You’ve been listening to Senlic,’ said Maev, with a mocking smile. ‘That old man is as bad as the boy. Demons, he says. There are no demons, Chara. He just has bad dreams. They will pass.’

Chara said nothing. She had known Senlic Carpenter all her life. Everyone knew he was gifted with the Sight. Maev had spent too long in the Varlish town of Eldacre and had lost touch with the old magic. Senlic said the boy was visited by spirits who sought to do him harm. Chara believed it. She moved to the window and looked out at the melting snow. Soon the way through to the high passes of the Rigante would be clear. Then she would take Feargol to the Dweller – the woman Kaelin referred to as the Wyrd.

‘Are you still planning to make the trip south?’ she asked Maev.

‘Yes. I still have business interests in Eldacre. And the Moidart wishes to see me.’

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