Read Fallowblade for Free Online

her weathermaster kindred who had journeyed to Cathair Rua on what she considered to be a perilous mission.
    Foreseeably, the urisk Crowthistle was nowhere to be found during the time that Giles or King Warwick’s post rider occupied the parlour. The incoming envoy swept his hat from his head and saluted the weathermage on bended knee as she stood, tall and elegant, beside the divan, anxiously awaiting his news.
    ‘Most esteemed Storm Lady,’ said the messenger, ‘King Warwick has charged me to proffer you his most cordial greetings. He begs to inform you, my lady, that grave tidings have lately reached King’s Winterbourne.’
    ‘Tell on.’
    ‘My lady, the countries of Slievmordhu and Ashqalêth have mobilised in war against Narngalis.’
    Asr ă thiel said nothing, but her left hand gripped the back of the divan as if she required support to remain on her feet.
    ‘The armies of King Uabhar and King Chohrab are on the march,’ the post rider continued. ‘At their current rate of progress they will reach the borders of our country in ten days, maybe as few as eight. The defenders of Narngalis are being called to arms. Battle will be joined anon.’
    ‘Has Grïmnørsland been informed?’
    ‘Indeed, my lady. Semaphores confirm that King Thorgild has been notified and is preparing to come to our assistance.’
    The damsel quizzed the envoy further as to what else he knew. When she was satisfied that he could tell her no more she dismissed him, bidding Giles attend to his needs. For a while she remained in taut silence. The only sounds in the parlour were the crackle of flames, the soft swoosh as a burned-through log shifted, the mutter and moan of a rising breeze against the leaded windowpanes.
    The Councillors of Ellenhall and their companions had long been absent from Rowan Green, ostensibly enjoying King Uabhar’s hospitality in Cathair Rua. Only a single message had they sent home. In it, they stated that all was well. In sudden hindsight, Asr ă thiel wondered whether the communication had been concocted by Uabhar, to mislead Avalloc and herself. The weathermasters had failed to return, and now Slievmordhu marched to war. All was now terribly clear. With his military offensive in mind, the king had undoubtedly taken the weather-masters hostage to prevent their opposition. Ruthless intriguer that he was, he had betrayed his own guests. In all likelihood they were at this very moment chained in his dungeons. It must have been their attempts to save themselves that had caused the atmospheric disturbances that had so unsettled her.
    Asr ă thiel could barely contain her anger when the treachery of Uabhar was borne out by the tidings of war. Her initial impulse was to fly Lightfast to Cathair Rua so that she might rescue her kinfolk. Even as she commenced to plan the excursion, however, she recalled to her chagrin that it was possible for sky-balloons to be shot down. The envelope’s fabric could not resist metal barbs; besides, Uabhar’s archers could launch flaming arrows at it and at the wicker basket, so that Lightfast would catch fire and fall from the sky like a meteor. Even though Asr ă thiel could not be harmed, if she were captured and thrown into prison she, like the others, would be unable to aid Narngalis against the invaders. With her impetuous scheme of action in tatters, she could only bluster and fume.
    As she pictured her beloved kindred and friends chained to the walls of some dank cellar, the damsel’s rage redoubled. Yet she mastered her temper swiftly; this was no time for tantrums, there was work to be done. To ensure their freedom, Uabhar must be quelled.
    She had no doubt the urisk still lurked nearby. ‘Urisk,’ she said then into the shadows—for unaccountably she could never bring herself to address him by the odd name he had once revealed to her—‘you have heard the news; ’tis grim indeed! I can scarcely believe it! I must hasten, forthwith, to King Warwick’s aid. It may be