plague
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Clothes lay scattered about Mirza’s room. Eoin, exhausted as he was, woke to a low sun. He lay spread out on the prince’s bench, rugs having been moved to leave him bare to the cold tile.
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Fearchar and Seonaid stared up in awe at the massive arched gate at the bottom of the mountain passage. It soared to heights Eoin’s memories had not clearly conveyed. They sat in a covered cart waiting as the line of merchants and travellers entered and exited through the pass. The guard in his uniform and…
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Snow and ice dripped from thatch eaves, creating slick, muddy tracks in the melt. Rodney’s birlinn docked on the second day of frost break. Thin sheets of ice dances around the hull, squeaking a thin tune over the thunk of wood and slap of rope. Gulls cried in a clear morning, greeting a pale pink…
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Eoin peeled his eyes open and yawned. Hands splayed across his chest. The tingling of the void nagged at the back of his head. He blinked, bringing Seonaid’s face into focus. She had tucked up under his left arm, happily wrapping her thigh over one of his. He blinked again, trying to clear the cobwebs…
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I’m so sorry, Fearchar, Seonaid. I’m out of practice. I – I – “Wha’ di’ye mean White Horse a’ the Fyskar clan? Ye’re man, nae beast. Tradition died out centuries ago. None a’ the clans claim the land tha’ way. A disgustin’ myth told in dark corners.” Fearchar cut off the apology.
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Seonaid and Fearchar’s heads spun into the inky blackness. “Ye bloody well could’a died, ye eejit!” Fearchar screamed at his employer. Eoin snorted. “You think that was a one-time occurrence.” He smiled sardonically.
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The house lay dark save for the banked fire. Eoin eased himself in through the door to be greeted by Seonaid and Fearchar cuddled on the floor in front of the hearth. They looked up at him and smiled as he entered. Eoin ducked a nod of hello.
Chapel Orahamm 