The cursed towers 157

"I see," Lachlan said slowly. "Well, thank ye for the news. Ye must have ridden hard indeed to get here
so quickly. Will ye have a wee dram with us to celebrate? In the morn ye can tell one o' the dispatch
riders where Laird Finlay is and send to him to come home. It is dangerous indeed so close to the
marshes and we need him here."
The man nodded and saluted. Lachlan gestured to Dillon to pour him some whiskey. They all drank a
toast to the victory at Glenmorven and the rising of the forest faeries, then the tired, hungry, dusty
dispatch rider went gratefully down to the kitchen to be fed. A buzz of conversation rose as soon as he
had left the room.
"Renshaw gone to Arran?" Gwilym asked. "I do no' believe it! It must be a trick."
"Is it so impossible that he c-c-could have sought sanctuary in the m-m-marshes, taking the babe with
him? We know M-M-Maya and my m-m-m-mother were allies o' a s-s-sort," Iain replied.
"This is laughable!" Meghan cried. "The Grand-Seeker o' the Awl, in cahoots with one o' the most
powerful sorceresses in the land! Surely he would no' seek sanctuary in Arran?"
"Why would he no'?" Elfrida asked. "Is she no' your bitter enemy?"
"Well, yes, there has always been bad bluid between the MacFoghnan and MacCuinn clans, ever since
the days o' the First Crossing. But Renshaw is leader o' the Awl and so sworn to stamp out witchcraft.
He hates and fears sorcery; it does no' make sense that he would go to Arran."
"But if they both see ye as their enemy, will that no' make them allies?" Elfrida said.
Iseult flashed her a look. "Likely enough," she agreed, unable to suppress the note of surprise in her
voice. "There is a Khan'cohban proverb," and she spoke a few harsh syllables in the guttural language of
her homeland. "Your friend, my enemy; your enemy, my friend," she translated.
"Still, they are strange bedfellows," Meghan said. "Though I thought Maya and Margrit bizarre allies as
well. I wonder what game it is the Thistle plays."
"Whatever game it is, I wish those blaygird marsh-faeries o' hers would leave us alone," Lachlan said
wearily. They had been attacked again only a few weeks earlier, right in the great hall of Dun Eidean's
castle. This time there had been more than twenty Mesmerdean and they had lost almost thirty soldiers
and servants in fighting them off. All of them had had trouble sleeping since, starting at shadows and
waking from uneasy dreams with a feeling of suffocation. "Will we never be free o' them and their thirst
for revenge?"
"Or free o' the Thistle and her machinations?" Meghan too looked and sounded weary, her old face
haggard.

"I am sure she would be glad to have Bronwen in her hands," Iseult said. "What a weapon she would
be!"
"Och, I hope the poor wee babe is safe," Latifa said piteously, clasping her fat hands together.
"Margrit would no' harm the babe," Meghan reassured her. "She is too valuable alive. It is Isabeau I fear
for."
"But surely Margrit would have no use for Isabeau?" Matthew the Lean asked.
"Isabeau has great Talent," Meghan replied somberly. "Margrit has already shown she wants bairns with