just precisely right. Tonight I’m merely going to tell you the different parts and what they mean. Oh, and I want to give you a lesson on hardening your aura.’
‘My what?’
‘It’s like an egg of invisible light that surrounds every living person. It’s the effect of the etheric plane interpenetrating the physical. When you throw a stone into a pond, the ripples spread. And what are the ripples? A pattern in the same water as fills the pond. Think of the aura as being somewhat like that.’
Lilli stared at the floor and tried to think.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said at last.
‘It’s not an easy thing to understand.’ Brour sounded amused. ‘But spend some time thinking on it, and see what comes to your mind. But the point is, once you learn to control yours, your mother won’t be able to pry into your mind again.’
‘Splendid!’ Lilli looked up and found him smiling. ‘There’s nothing I’d like more!’
‘No doubt. Let’s begin.’
‘Braemys rode in this afternoon,’ Burcan said. ‘He’s brought the news I’ve been waiting for.’
‘Indeed?’ Merodda said. ‘Good or ill?’
‘Good. The northern lords have agreed to strip their fort guards. We’ll have a full army when we march.’
Merodda allowed herself a brief smile, which he returned. Late in the evening, they were sitting alone in her chamber by the light of a smoky fire. Outside, rain hammered against the walls, and every now and then the south wind lifted the leather hides hung at the windows.
‘Have there been any omens?’ Burcan said.
‘I’ve not had Lilli scry this past few days. I was waiting to hear your news. You need to have some knowledge of how things are before you can interpret an omen, you see.’
‘Very well, then. Huh, I’ll have to remind Brae to have a word with her. About their betrothal, I mean.’
‘If he’s not too busy for a courtly gesture, of course.’
Her sarcasm earned her a sour smile. Burcan hesitated, studying her face. She knew what he wanted to know, what they all wanted to know, Bevva and that beastly little herald, too, and her women servants – they’d all suspected for years, after all, who her lover might be. She could see it in their narrowed eyes, hear it in the hesitations of their speech. In the hearth a log burned through and dropped in a gush of flame and a scatter of coals on stone.
‘Rhodi?’ His voice hesitated, stumbled. ‘Do you really think this marriage is an, um, er, well, allowable thing?’
She smiled into the fire. On the hearthstone the coals were winking out, one at a time. She heard him move uneasily in his chair, then sigh.
‘I’d best get on my way,’ Burcan said. ‘Daeryc and the other gwerbretion are waiting for me.’
‘So late?’
‘I promised I’d tell them when we’ll march as soon as I’d spoken to the King. He was asleep when I stopped in there, but I spoke, anyway.’ He smiled briefly. ‘I didn’t say I’d wait for his answer.’
‘And when will you march?’
‘As soon as the full northern contingents ride in. They’re on their way.’
In the morning, when Lilli came down to the great hall, she found Braemys waiting for her near the foot of the staircase. He was a tall lad, as all the Boarsmen were, blond and blue-eyed and with the clan’s squarish face as well. Since last they’d met, his upper lip had sprouted a line of hair that could be called a moustache for courtesy’s sake if naught else. When he saw her, he strode over and bowed. She curtsied in return.
‘My lady,’ Braemys said. ‘Does this betrothal please you?’
‘It does. What about you, my lord?’
‘Well enough.’ He turned to look away – when she followed his glance, Lilli could see Uncle Burcan standing near the doorway. ‘I’d best get myself to the council of war.’
He turned and strode off to join his father. Lilli watched them as they made their way through the crowded hall and out. Ah well, she reminded herself, he’s ever so much better than Nantyn.
Over the next few days Lilli had scant time to worry about her betrothed. He was much involved with the councils of war, while she and Brour had their practising to do. Once as well, late of a rainy night, her mother called her to scry in the black ink. With Brour holding the long candle as usual, Lilli stared into the silver bowl, where shadows danced, black on a deeper black. She could hear the wind howling around the broch, and as the spell took her over, the sound transmuted into voices, screaming and crying out.
‘Tears and rage.’ It was the only thing Lilli could say about the wailing. ‘I hear tears and terror.’
She could feel her mother’s hand squeezing the back of her neck.
‘Try to listen,’ Merodda hissed. ‘What are they saying?’
‘No words. Weeping and fear.’
In the blackness images were beginning to form of headless riders on black horses, huge, towering over entire cities as they galloped through a stormy night. The wailing faded away, and Lilli heard her own voice start describing the omens. Swords that burned with blue fire formed a huge wall in front of Dun Deverry. An army all dressed in red threw itself against the wall but fell back, tattered and dying, only to regroup on a far hill.
‘They’re riding again,’ Lilli said. ‘I see them riding – wait. It’s going away, it’s all going away.’
In the basin the flaming swords winked out like sparks on a hearth stone. The images turned pale and watery, then faded in turn. For a moment, blackness – then lantern-light revealed a pleasant chamber with bright-coloured tapestries on the walls. In the middle of the chamber stood an elderly man with a shock of untidy white hair. He was leaning over a table and staring into a basin of water. All at once he looked up – looked right at her with ice-blue eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul.
‘Well, here’s a surprise!’ He sounded amused, and his voice was oddly resonant for someone who looked so old. ‘Who are you, lass? You’ll hurt yourself spying on me like this, if you’re not careful.’
Lilli started to answer but found she couldn’t speak. All at once the vision broke. The image separated into pie-slice fragments like the design on a shattered plate – then disappeared. A white-faced Brour was shaking her by the shoulder.
‘Are you back? Are you back?’
‘I am, Brour. What’s so wrong?’
‘I’d rather like to know that myself,’ Merodda said. ‘Why did you stop her?’
‘Because that old man is dangerous. He’s the Usurper’s personal advisor and a sorcerer of the greatest power.’
‘I saw into Cerrmor?’ Lilli said.
‘You did.’ Brour paused to wipe his sweaty face on his sleeve. ‘Or Nevyn tricked you into revealing yourself.’
‘Who?’ Merodda broke in. ‘No one? Don’t talk in riddles.’
‘I’m not. That’s his name, nevyn, Nevyn, some miserable jest of his father’s, it was, naming his son no one.’
Merodda was studying her scribe with her mouth caught in a sour twist. With a long sigh Brour composed himself.
‘I studied under the man,’ Brour said. ‘I know him quite well.’
‘He wasn’t trying to trick me,’ Lilli said. ‘He was as surprised as I was.’
‘Ah.’ Brour considered this for a long moment. ‘Still, you’d best not scry again