rope to his chest. “I’ve got to go! Mórganthu’s waitin’.”
“Then go, but come back, and we’ll talk some more.”
Garth stood up, shaking.
“Garth.”
“Yes?”
“Beltayne is tonight, and I must warn you of what Mórganthu might do. Fifty of our number just left at his orders, and I don’t know on what mischievous errand. We have to be careful. Stick with me, and I’ll keep you safe and look after you. A few of us will be waiting at the big pine beyond the ridge. Do you know the place?”
Garth nodded, then walked off through the woods with the heavy rope draped over his shoulder. With each step closer to Mórganthu and the stone circle, he envisioned the arch druid’s hand tightening the rope around his neck. He was nigh to blubbering when he finally arrived.
“Stop! Stop your crying!” Mórganthu yelled.
Garth closed his eyes, but a few more choked moans escaped his lips.
Moments later he felt the sting of the arch druid’s hand across his cheek. “Such a slug, you cannot even bring rope without crying! And here I have a special job for you.”
Garth swallowed. Wherever he looked, Trothek’s ghastly face floated before him.
“Garth! Look at my personage. Did you not grow up learning to handle a boat?”
“Y-yes.”
“And are you not familiar with the marsh?”
“A little … sure.”
“Which parts, would you say?”
“Well … close to the village, anyhow.” As he thought of the marsh and his few but wonderful times fishing there, the image of Trothek faded.
“Are you familiar with Inis Avallow? The island with the tower?”
CHAPTER 30
THE PLOTS OF MEN
Natalenya’s proposal bothered Merlin. “Are you sure you’re willing to get Allun’s mule alone?” Yes, he had asked her for the second time, but he had to be sure.
“If you’re wondering whether I can handle it, I’ve hitched up my father’s horses many times, and I drive them myself whenever my mother and I go out alone.”
Dybris finished putting on one of Merlin’s old tunics to replace his monk’s robe. “But this is a dangerous night to be out alone. We’ve all planned for Merlin to go with you, and he’s more than willing.”
“I insist,” Natalenya said. “Merlin is needed more at the circle of stones than in the dusty old mill hitching up a mule.”
What Merlin found the most agonizing was wondering whether she was still mad at him after he had fumbled her hints at marriage. What a fool he’d been. What he wouldn’t give to tell her how he really felt.
“Fine,” Dybris said as he opened the door and stepped through. “We’d better go, then.”
Owain joined him outside, but Merlin hesitated.
“Here … will you wear my torc?”
“Why?” she said, her voice softening. “It’s a gift to you from —”
“The druidow will recognize me with it on.” Truly, though, he just wanted her to keep thinking of him. “And let me lend you this … It’s a small knife my father made for Ganieda.”
“You think I’ll need it? I can run pretty fast, you know.”
“Just in case.”
Before taking the blade from him, she pressed both of her hands around his. “You’ll be careful?”
“Yes. And you?”
She nodded, and Merlin saw the motion by the light of the lamp. And her hands felt good — small but strong. The only hand he could properly compare them to was his younger sister’s, since he couldn’t remember his mother’s and had never held Mônda’s. And yet Natalenya’s hands weren’t like his sister’s. Ganieda’s were thin, almost frail, always wiggling and cold, but Natalenya’s hands firmly and purposefully held his, and the warmth spread up his arm until he began to sweat.
“You’ll leave after you eat? Tas set out a mug of blueberry-leaf tea for you, as well as some oatcakes.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, the tea is a bit tart, and the oatcakes are dry. You can have some smoked meat —”
She laughed, finally taking the blade. “I’ll be fine.”
Outside Dybris coughed, and Merlin paused awkwardly on the threshhold, then he turned, closing the door behind him. As he joined his father and the monk, he heard her drop the bar in place to secure the door.
Merlin was glad she was going to rest and eat, for she hadn’t had a meal since morning and had grown more weary the longer they discussed their plan. But though her hands had trembled, she’d never wavered in her intent, and Merlin respected her mettle. Whatever her father was, Natalenya was of quality, something Merlin was beginning to understand.
As the men began their journey, Merlin put a hand on his father’s