The scout, p.2
The Scout, page 2
“It would be harder for the two of you to go yourselves, but perhaps it would be wise to seek the aid of some of the elders in the north.” The remark came from the rider on my other side, my close friend and warrior of Blaidd, Emer.
She had ridden with Domhnall and me down to Gefell, not only as protection for the two of us, but with the hopes of further convincing Tesni as well. Emer was a distant cousin to Tesni, but the family tie hadn’t gone as far as we’d hoped.
“They haven’t seen the same destruction here that they have in the north,” Emer continued. “Not even during the Purge. Not to mention that it makes them feel safer, having most of the warriors remaining at Clogwyn and in the south. They’re protected, insulated.”
I nodded, knowing she was right. During the Purge, the last time Fianna had wreaked havoc across the land, much of the southern part of the clan had been spared, especially in comparison to the north. The fires themselves had never reached Castle Clogwyn, something Father had long boasted about. Clogwyn and the villages closest to it had always been the safest places in the clan.
“I still think it wise to exhaust our closer options first,” Domhnall said.
“We’ll discuss it with Laoise this evening,” I replied.
I still wasn’t sure if I had complete trust in Laoise, having known her for most of my life and seeing how crafty and cunning she could be, but at the same time, if someone were to outsmart Father, it would be her. I’d gleaned that much over the last few weeks of secretive meetings and discussions, ones we had gone out of our way to keep hidden. Despite my misgivings regarding Laoise, I needed her, just like I needed Domhnall. The two of them wielded considerable influence at Clogwyn with their places on the advisory council. Far more influence than I did, despite being the Ri’s daughter.
We rode the rest of the way in silence and before long, the imposing granite walls of Castle Clogwyn came into view. We were let through the castle gate without question and as soon as our horses trotted into the courtyard, we brought them to a halt and dismounted. A few warriors milled about, along with the occasional servant, but from the calm inside the castle, one would not know that a Dark Spirit was ravaging our land. It disturbed me. Father’s lack of urgency was an insult to those who had already lost their homes and their lives.
I rubbed Ceol’s neck as I pulled the reins over his head, noting that the warmth of the day on the ride back had caused my stallion to break into a slight sweat. The days were slowly growing warmer and soon, spring would fade on the island, making way for summer. Emer led the way to the stables, Domhnall and I falling in behind her, but we didn’t make it far before I heard someone shouting my name. I stopped and allowed a castle runner to race toward me. He was young, like many of the messengers, barely sixteen from the looks of it, and by the time he reached me, he was slightly out of breath.
“Cian has need of you in the infirmary,” the runner said.
My stomach clenched at the news, but I nodded. “I’ll be on my way at once.”
The runner dashed off and I tried to ignore the heaviness that was growing in the pit of my stomach. My cousin, Cian, was the castle healer and if he needed me in the infirmary, I doubted it was for anything good. He’d been working long hours over the last week with the return of a handful of warriors from the north. They’d all been sent back to the castle because of the extent of their injuries, many of them tainted with the poison of the Dark Spirits from Fianna’s deadly shadow creatures. Father had done everything in his power to downplay the severity of the injuries, but Cian had requested my help more than once the last few days and I’d seen the truth for myself.
“Here,” Domhnall said, holding out a hand. “I’ll have a stablehand see to Ceol.”
“Thank you,” I told him, passing him the stallion’s reins.
Once I had handed off my horse, I took off, drawing a few looks from warriors and servants as I rushed by them. Once I’d scaled the steps of the castle, I hurried through the front doors, into the large entryway. With my sole focus on getting to the infirmary, I didn’t even pause to admire the beautiful wolf carvings that had been etched into the stone walls or the massive wrought iron chandelier above me. Instead, I hurried down the long, winding hallways to the castle’s east wing.
The infirmary was on the far end of the east wing and I was more familiar with it than I would have liked to have been, having spent many long hours helping Cian tend to the wounded during the Purge. I let myself into the entry chamber, the smaller room where patients were first looked at by one of Cian’s assistants and then separated out in order of need. The entry chamber at least didn’t look particularly busy today; only a few servants were seated in the chairs along the wall, most of them looking as if they only had minor ailments. Still, I knew what lay inside the main chamber, despite Father’s demands that the wounded warriors be hidden away.
As I closed the door behind me, I caught the attention of the assistant who was going from one patient to the next, talking quietly to them and making notes on a piece of parchment. I recognized her and though I didn’t know her well, I at least knew her name, Aerona. She was considerably older than me, in her mid-fifties, and her mouth turned down as she looked over at me. Like most in the castle, she didn’t much care for me, especially after the events of the Purge, when I had aided shifters in fleeing Blaidd.
“Cian sent for me?” I said, walking over to her.
“He did,” Aerona replied, her tone flat. “I’ll let someone know you’re here.”
She motioned for me to take a seat and I did so, trying to ignore the stares of the others in the room. Father had labeled me a traitor when he had learned of my actions aiding shifters after the Purge, and there were many inside Clogwyn who still held to such beliefs, even years later. My current relationship with Bran, not to mention how vocal I had been in expressing my displeasure over how Father was handling the situation with Fianna, hadn’t helped matters. There were many who saw me as a troublemaker and my affections for a shifter an act of betrayal to our people.
They wrongly believed my father’s lies that unlike the rest of the gifted, shapeshifters were weak and easily turned by the Dark Spirits. I was determined to change a great many things the day I became Ri of Blaidd, and making the clan a safe place for shifters was one of them.
The door to the main chamber of the infirmary opened and I couldn’t hold back my quiet sigh of relief as Aerona returned with a healer trailing behind her. The healer, Mair, was twenty, the same age as me, and though she had come to Clogwyn a few months ago, I’d taken an immediate liking to her. Not only was she knowledgeable and skilled in the healing arts, she hadn’t treated me with the same distrust that many others in the castle held.
I got to my feet as Mair strode over to me, Aerona wandering off to resume speaking to the patients waiting to see healers. A closer look at Mair revealed blood staining the sleeves of her shirt and her expression was weary.
“Cian is waiting for you in one of the private rooms,” Mair said, motioning for me to follow her.
I did so, coming to walk side by side with her as we stepped into the main chamber. The dried blood splattering her clothes only made the knot in my belly grow. I hoped one of the warriors hidden away in the private rooms hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.
“Bran arrived a short while ago,” she said as we walked, “and Cian is going to need help seeing to his dislocation. I would do it myself, but I have a broken leg I have to set. And… I’m afraid no one else was willing to assist him.”
My stomach clenched at the news of Bran and at the same time, an anger rushed through me with Mair’s last statement. I hated the fear and vitriol that had been directed at Bran since he had come to Clogwyn. He had done nothing to deserve the ire of those around him.
Mair led me to one of the private rooms located along the far wall of the main chamber, usually reserved for the most severe of cases or people in the castle with high standing. Mair went to leave when we reached the door, but I placed a hand on her arm to stop her.
“Thank you,” I told her, holding her gaze. “For being willing to help him.”
“No one deserves to suffer,” she said.
As she turned and left, I could feel a lump settle in the back of my throat. If only more people felt that way. If only my own father did. Shaking my head, I tried to clear my thoughts as I pushed open the door and stepped into the small room. Cian would need me to be focused. Even with his healing gift, fixing a dislocation wasn’t the easiest of tasks.
Bran was seated on the small bed at the center of the room, hanging his head while Cian inspected his shoulder. I couldn’t help but wince when I caught sight of the awkward angle of his arm. Both men looked over at me when they heard me enter, relief passing over their features.
“Spirits, Bran,” I said as I came over to the bed. “What happened?”
There were streaks of dirt on his clothes and while it looked like Cian had cleaned up his face, he had the beginnings of a bruise along his jaw and a bit of dried blood at the corner of his mouth.
“I got a little too well acquainted with Seachnall’s fists,” Bran replied. He tried for a smile, but it was half-hearted and I could hear the bitterness in his voice.
“By accident?” I asked, raising my brows and trying to calm my own rising anger.
Bran shrugged his good shoulder, not meeting my gaze. I glanced over at Cian, his pressed-together lips and disapproving expression telling me everything I needed to know. Drystan needed to get better control of his warriors. There had been far too many training accidents lately that had ended in Bran getting injured.
“I’ve tended to his jaw and his ankle, but healing his shoulder will go more smoothly, and hopefully less painfully, with an extra set of hands,” Cian said.
He walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a bottle of spirits that I knew was mixed with a few herbs that would give a sedative effect. He filled an empty mug.
“You’re going to want this,” he said, walking back over to Bran and handing him the mug.
Bran raised his brows as he took it with his good hand. “That bad, huh?”
“Better than if I had to force it back in with nothing but brute strength, but it’s still going to hurt,” Cian replied.
Bran let out a quiet sigh before throwing the drink back in three large gulps. Cian refilled the mug once more, getting Bran to down a bit more before instructing him to lie back on the bed. He then motioned me to join him next to Bran’s awkwardly hanging arm.
“The spirits should knock him out enough,” Cian said quietly. “What I’m going to need you to do is guide and support the arm as I push the bone back into place. It will go quickly, but the smoother it is, the less pain for him.”
I nodded, the two of us waiting for the spirits to lull Bran into a state of semiconsciousness. At Cian’s instructions, I placed my hands under Bran’s arm, supporting the limb while Cian gently placed his hands on Bran’s shoulder. It was an odd sight, watching as Bran’s arm moved back into place simply under Cian’s touch. As Bran’s shoulder joint popped back into place, he let out a sigh of relief.
“Done,” Cian said, releasing his hold on Bran before taking a step back. “Move it for me, just to be sure.”
I too stepped back and Bran carefully rotated his arm, the pained expression leaving his face as he did so.
“Good as new,” Bran said, his words slightly slurred.
“Good,” Cian replied. “I still recommend you take the rest of the day to rest. You’ll be back in the training yard tomorrow.”
“Drystan wants me back tonight.” Bran swayed slightly as he half sat up.
Cian frowned and steadied him. “I’ll have a talk with Drystan.”
“Okay,” Bran said, rolling his shoulders. “Feels better but hurts like the blazes.”
“Imagine if you hadn’t had something to take the edge off,” I told him wryly.
“I’m going to have you stay here for a bit, probably an hour or so, to let those spirits wear off,” Cian said. “Mair and I will be in to check on you.”
Bran nodded, getting comfortable on the bed once more. Cian walked back over to the table, cleaning up his work space, and I came around in front of Bran.
“I have to help with the wolves this afternoon,” I said, taking one of his hands in mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. “But I’ll come check on you as soon as I’m done.”
“‘Kay,” he replied. “Love you.”
“I love you,” I murmured, brushing my lips across his forehead.
Though part of me was loathe to leave him, I knew he was in good hands with Cian and Mair. With Bran laid out on the bed, I helped Cian finish cleaning up before the two of us departed the room.
“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Cian said as I closed the door behind us. “And I’ll send word to Drystan that he won’t be going back to the training yard tonight, on my orders.”
“Thank you,” I replied, unable to hide a disgusted scoff as I shook my head. “If Drystan is so keen to use Bran as a weapon, it’s beyond me why he continually allows him to get injured.”
“Drystan has a tendency to let his personal feelings get the better of him. Much like Uncle Cadfael.” Cian grimaced.
Which is why this clan is in the state it’s in, I thought, a bitter taste filling my mouth as I thought of the roles Drystan and Father had played in the last few dark and deadly years. Cian bid me farewell, heading off to tend to other patients, and I saw myself out of the infirmary. Helping to care for my family’s wolf pack this afternoon would at least offer me some distraction from worrying about Bran and my failure in Gefell.
I hoped that when Domhnall and I met with Laoise later tonight, she would have a better idea of what to do next. Enlisting the aid of the village elders and getting them to push back against Father’s lack of action had seemed like a worthwhile idea, but it would do us no good if none of them were willing to speak out.
And we don’t have time to wait for them to get bold enough to do so, I thought, my chest tight as I strode down the hallway, heading for the south tower. Each day that passed, Fianna’s fires destroyed more land and the Dark Spirit became even further entrenched in Blaidd. What our people needed was urgency and Spirits be damned, I would get my father to understand that if it was the last thing I did.
Chapter 3
An Unquenchable Flame
Seren
“You did make beautiful children,” I told the handsome male wolf, Taranau, as I brushed his sleek grey coat.
He flicked his ears back when he heard my voice, but otherwise, his gaze remained on the group of pups wrestling and yipping at one another a few feet away while their dam, Gylfym, napped in a sunbeam. The litter had been the most recent born this spring, the latest in the Ris of Blaidd’s long line of cherished wolves. My family had raised wolves as both companions and hunting animals for generations. Most of the pack lived in the west tower that had been transformed into a large den centuries ago, though they were allowed to roam the castle at times, and some people, like myself, had cherished pack members we tended to keep close to us.
Seventeen wolves filled the den this afternoon and I’d spent the last few hours helping see to their needs with Nia, the Nead Maithair, or den mother. Nia had been in the well-respected position for as long as I could remember, and she took her care of the wolves seriously. Though I couldn’t fault her on her care of the pack, she had never much cared for me when I was a child and her opinion of me hadn’t improved over the years.
She cast wary glances at me as I continued to brush Taranau, as if she expected me to do something underhanded to the wolf at any moment. Her distrust had made for a trying afternoon and I continually had to remind myself I was doing this for the wolves, not Nia. Brushing Taranau was my last task for the day and once I was finished, I called my two wolves, Awyr and Cryfder, over to me before gathering my things. Nia watched me with continued skepticism.
“I’m heading out,” I said when I walked over to her, Awyr and Cryfder at my heels. “Taranau has been taken care of and there’s fresh water in the basins. I was wondering if I could take one of the pups with me to give them a bit more interaction.”
“And where exactly would you be taking them?” Nia asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Not out of the castle,” I replied. “Just to visit a friend.”
“Make sure the pup is back before dinner.” She let out a huff before grumbling under her breath, “Asking me things as I if can deny the Ri’s daughter.”
I forced myself to ignore the cutting remark and instead walked over to some of the older pups who were playing with a few deer antlers. It wasn’t difficult to choose which pup to bring with me. Eofn was a troublemaker, just like my Cryfder, but the little pup was one of Bran’s favorites.
I scooped him up, and we left the den behind. I cradled the pup in my arms as we walked down the hallway toward the warrior’s quarters, noticing that he was looking more and more grey as he lost his puppy coat. Cryfder watched the young pup with interest as we walked, no doubt wishing to play with him.
“Easy, little one,” I told Eofn as he wiggled in my arms. “Believe me: You don’t want me dropping you on this stone floor.”
I readjusted the pup, taking a firmer hold of him. The hallways were largely empty, but I passed the occasional servant, though they paid me little heed, going about their business for the day. When I reached Bran’s room, I knocked and was pleased to see him looking a bit less haggard when he answered.
“I brought a few friends,” I said. “I thought you might enjoy their company.”
He grinned as he took in Eofn, Awyr, and Cryfder and ushered us in. I set Eofn down on the floor as Bran closed the door. Cryfder immediately swooped over to engage with the young pup, the two of them pawing at one another, while Awyr hung back and watched. Not only was she older than the other two wolves, she had always been more reserved and aloof by nature.
