Heart of Stars Read Online Free PDF Page B

on but a nightgown?’ she admonished him.
    ‘They were going to kill us,’ he whispered.
    ‘Well, I’ve got ye now, ye’re safe, no-one’s going to kill ye.’
    ‘What about Owein … Olwynne?’
    ‘I’ll get ye to safety too, and then I’ll go back and getthem,’ she promised. He sighed and laid back against her, and soon his breathing steadied. She glanced down at him and found he was asleep.
    Rhiannon flew on into the icy darkness. She had nothing to guide her but her own internal compass. The Banrìgh had sent soldiers to pursue the lord of Fettercairn, and Rhiannon guessed they were somewhere on the road behind. She bent over Blackthorn’s neck and strained her eyes to see through the blackness, following the thin line of white that she hoped was the snow-covered road.
    After an hour or so, she saw the red eye of a campfire gleaming through the ranks of dark trees. Rhiannon was not taking any chances and so she brought the mare down on an outcrop of stone some way above. It was too difficult to dismount with the sleeping child in her arms, so she merely sat there quietly and surveyed the scene, while Blackthorn drooped her head down, her flanks heaving with exhaustion.
    The camp below her was a neat and orderly one. The horses wore heavy blankets and each had a nosebag of warm mash. They were tied to a single line that could be released in a moment if need be. A fire pit had been dug and surrounded by stones to protect the fire from the snow. A small pot hung above it, and a man was stirring it with a long ladle. More men sat on a fallen log that had been drawn up close to the flames. Some were eating from small bowls; others were taking off their boots and setting them to dry near the fire, stuffing them with spare socks first to keep their shape.
    Guards had been set. Rhiannon would not have seen them if she had not waited and watched for so long, for they sat very still, despite the bitter cold, and their cloaks were grey as the night. Still Rhiannon did not approach. She dared not take any chances.
    It was not until one of the men sitting about the fire reached out and pulled a viola case out from a bundle of blankets, opening it and checking the instrument inside as tenderly as if it were a child, that Rhiannon was sure that she had found, if not exactly friends, at least allies. She knew Jay the Fiddler carried his viola with him everywhere he went. Rhiannon gave a little sigh and pulled Roden closer. Carefully she slipped down from the mare’s back and, leaving Blackthorn in the safety of the darkness, began to make her way down the slope towards the camp.
    ‘Halt! Who goes there?’ came the cry.
    ‘It is I, Rhiannon o’ the Dubhslain, upon the Banrìgh’s business,’ Rhiannon answered. To her surprise her voice was no more than a croak.
    The guard came towards her with his sword drawn.
    ‘Careful,’ she said. ‘I have the laddie here.’
    ‘The laddie?’ the guard said incredulously, and seized her arm, drawing her roughly towards the fire so he could see more clearly. She shook him off.
    ‘Sssh! He’s asleep. Do no’ wake him.’
    He could see the white shape of the boy in her arms. ‘No’ the Viscount o’ Laverock!’ he cried.
    ‘Aye,’ said Rhiannon irritably. She was very tired and cold, and her legs did not seem to be working properly.
    At once the guard’s manner changed. He put his arm about her and supported her towards the fire, calling for help. More men came running. Rhiannon was drawn in to the warmth of the flames, and then a tall woman with a long, untidy plait was kneeling before her in the snow, tenderly taking Roden from her. Rhiannon let him be taken.
    ‘Look at him, the poor wee lad, he’s blue with cold,’ the woman said, and seized a warm blanket to wrap him in. Another blanket was wrapped around Rhiannon, andthen a cup of hot soup was thrust into her hands. Numbly she sipped, watching as the woman rubbed Roden’s bare hands and feet, and called for hot