They threaded through a jumble of shoppers and street-sellers. She held tightly to Aedan’s arm as they followed Tam through a labyrinth of poky alleys and narrow streets, dodging dung heaps and suspicious looking puddles, careful not to bump into laundresses with their baskets of linen, edging around a group of men who almost blocked an alley as they gathered to gamble with dice.
Emerging onto a busier street, she almost bumped into one of Svelrik’s men clad in black and green. For a heart-stopping moment, he seemed to look into her eyes. It was the man who’d almost shot her with his arrow, the man she’d seen in Neul Carraig. She’d never seen eyes as blue as his. Stop it, she told herself, what a ridiculous time to be paying attention to someone’s eyes – and those of your almost-murderer for that matter. He brushed her arm as he walked on, calling another guard to follow him down the street.
She was rooted to the spot until someone shouted ‘cart coming through’. She and Aedan hurried across the road as wheels sliced through the dirt an inch away from them, Aedan knocking the stool of a barber who was shaving a man’s face at the side of the road. The barber nicked the man’s skin and a streak of blood trickled down. Her nerves were so frayed that Kaetha jumped at the thwack of a butcher’s bloodied meat cleaver.
Finally, she thought when they reached a crooked building with a wooden sign which swung, creaking in the wind, inscribed with the name ‘The Star’. Tam led them to a side door down an alleyway and Kaetha made herself and Aedan visible again before knocking.
“Ewan Whyte?” she said to the bald man who opened the door.
“Aye?” he said, squinting at her.
“I think you know our friend, Alistair?”
He peered up and down the alley, then grabbed her arm and drew her inside. “This way, my dear.”
THIRTY NINE
Sanctuary
Ewan Whyte led them down a passageway lined with barrels and, catching a small movement at the corner of her vision, she realised that Tam had followed them in as a mouse.
“Our mutual friend told me that you would be visiting, Kaetha,” he said in a low voice, “and I want you to feel most welcome under my roof. This is your father, I suppose. You’re welcome, too, my good man. I must say you both look remarkably well, considering . . .” he hesitated, “well, considering all that has occurred.” He took them into an empty room, closed a door behind them and lifted a trapdoor in the floor. “If you’d be so kind.” He gestured down the steps. “I’m afraid I must be getting back to my customers but I shall return.” And with that, he was gone.
Kaetha noticed her father’s muscles tense. She understood. She had also had quite enough of descending into dark, underground rooms. Hesitating, she wondered if it might be a trap.
“Come on, then,” said Aedan. As he eased himself down the steps, he did his best to stifle his sounds of pain. Her heart went out to him. She felt like she could so easily collapse in a sobbing heap from not only her physical pain but her emotional and mental exhaustion as well, whenever she thought too much about what had happened to her. She could only imagine how her father must feel after suffering days and days of torture.
She followed him into a room about the same size as her dungeon cell had been, though at least this room benefitted from a shaft of light coming in through a small window just beneath the ceiling.
Gwyn sat across the room, chewing a thumbnail. It still surprised Kaetha to see her dressed in a short tunic and trews, with her long hair loose and her arm tattoos bared. She noticed a long cloak beside her which must have masked her Edonian appearance out in the city. Alistair would not have looked out of place in a seat of honour in the king’s great hall, his appearance forming a marked contrast to that of Gwyn. Yet he was sat beside this unashamedly Edonian woman in a shabby, dusty room, drumming his fingers on a broken table. When they noticed Aedan and herself, they leapt to their feet. Tam scrambled into his human-like form, making Alistair stagger backwards.
“Hell’s teeth!” exclaimed the laird. “Why does he keep doing that?”
“Tam said you’re hurt,” said Gwyn to Kaetha.
“Both of us are,” she replied.
“My lady,” said Aedan, inclining his head. “It’s been a long time.” Kaetha was surprised to see him offer his hand for Gwyn to shake. Her aunt had been instrumental in driving her parents apart and she watched intently to see to see how she would treat this man who had once been a source of shame to her, just like herself.
“No ‘my lady’s please. It’s Gwyn.” She shook his hand, then took his arm and walked him to her seat. “Sit. You look pale.” Kaetha also thought he looked older and, when a fit of coughing came over him, the rattle in his chest did not escape her attention, nor the worried glance Gwyn shared with Alistair. “Here.” Gwyn went to a side table and poured wine. “Drink this. I’ve infused some strengthening herbs in it.”
Gwyn poured one for Kaetha too and she gulped it down, not realising how thirsty she had been.
“Will Mairi and Donnan meet us here?” she asked.
“Aye,” said Gwyn.
“When?”
Gwyn hesitated. “Soon. They should be here soon.” Kaetha didn’t like the uncertain tone which
