The Dark Mirror Read Online Free PDF

wondered if Broichan had forgotten that his foster son was still some time short of his sixth birthday. He was inclined to think not. The druid had simply assessed him to discover how quickly he could absorb information, what was his capacity for endurance, what was his inclination to obey, then instituted a program of learning that would ensureBridei squeezed in as much as he possibly could. The days were full. He rode out with Donal. He spent time learning to fight with two knives or with one, or with his fists. He practiced rolling on and off his pony’s back swiftly and easily, as he had seen the warrior doing. In the afternoons Broichan drilled him on druidic lore, starting with the sun, moon, and stars, their patterns and meanings,the alignment of the kin stones and the older markers that were dotted all across Fortriu, down into Circinn, which had its own king, and northward into the wild and mysterious land of the Caitt. They delved deeper into the study of deities and spirits, ritual and ceremony. As Broichan had said, so far they had barely scratched the surface. Bridei fell asleep at night with the lore tangling andtwisting through his head and his body aching with weariness. He ate like a horse and grew apace.
    Some time before Midwinter, Broichan went away to attend a king’s council. The territories of the Priteni were divided into four parts: Fortriu, where Pitnochie was located, the southern realm of Circinn, and the more distant territories of the Caitt and the Light Isles. When Bridei asked where hisfather’s kingdom of Gwynedd fit into this, Broichan smiled.
    “Gwynedd is another land, Bridei,” he said. “Your father’s people are not of the Priteni. Cannot you remember how long it took you to ride here?”
    Already, the memory was fading. Bridei said nothing.
    “There will be representatives of two kings at the council,” Broichan told him. “Our lands are divided; it was a black day when Drust,son of Girom, became a Christian, and his realm of Circinn split from Fortriu. Here in the north we are blessed with a king loyal to the ancient gods. Drust, son of Wdrost, known as Drust the Bull, holds power over all the territories of the Great Glen. When they call me king’s druid, it is Drust the Bull they mean. He is a good man.”
    Bridei wished that Broichan would not go. His foster fatherdid not smilemuch; he did not joke and play games as the old men had done. But Broichan knew so many interesting things, and was always ready to share them. He listened properly when Bridei wanted to explain something, not like Mara, who was always too busy, or Ferat, who often didn’t seem to hear. Broichan always had time for Bridei, and although the druid rarely offered words of praise, Brideihad learned to recognize a certain expression in his foster father’s dark eyes, the look that showed he was pleased. He wished Broichan would stay at home.
    The day came. Sibel was saddled and ready in the yard; four men at arms were to ride with the druid as an escort. Donal would stay at Pitnochie.
    “I will work very hard, my lord,” Bridei said as Broichan stood waiting to mount his horse.
    “Did I express any doubts as to that?” Broichan was almost smiling. “You will do well, son, I know it. Don’t neglect the more intellectual pursuits in your desire to develop your skills in combat. Now I must go. Farewell, Bridei.”
    “Safe journey, my lord,” Donal said from where he held Sibel’s bridle. “I’ll watch over the boy”
    “Farewell,” whispered Bridei, suddenly feeling quite odd. He wouldnot cry; he had promised his father. He watched in silence as Broichan, surrounded by his guards, rode away under the leafless oaks and down the track to the lake’s edge. They had a long journey northeast to Caer Pridne, great fortress of Drust the Bull.
    “Right,” said Donal cheerfully. “How about swords today? I’ve a little one somewhere that you might just about be able to lift up, at a pinch.What do