Read Online The White Mare: The Dalraida Trilogy, Book One by Jules Watson - Free Book Online

of the other Epidii guide, a friendlier man than the first. His skin was seamed and burned by the sun, and his face had the characteristic squint of someone who worked on the sea. Perhaps he was a fisherman.
    ‘What island is this?’ Eremon asked.
    The man grinned, pleased to be superior. ‘The Isle of Deer.’
    ‘Ah.’ Eremon shaded his eyes to peer up at the hazels and oaks crowding the island’s glens. ‘I’ve heard of this place even in Erin. Exceptional hunting, I believe.’
    At mention of the hunt, Cù’s ears shot straight up, and he looked at Eremon with a longing that was matched only by that on Conaire’s face.
    ‘Is this true, man?’ Conaire demanded.
    The guide nodded.
    ‘A spot of spearwork with the dog is just the thing to right my belly!’ Conaire crowed, delighted. ‘When can we go?’
    Eremon smiled. ‘Let’s get to Dunadd first.’
    ‘Aye, but I’ll take you soon,’ the fisherman promised, eyeing Conaire’s great arms with ill-concealed envy. ‘There, the boars are so big that even you, young giant, will have trouble pulling them down!’
    ‘You are blessed with riches!’ Conaire exclaimed.
    The man shrugged, his face flushed with pride. ‘We are under the protection of Rhiannon and Manannán both. Rhiannon is the Lady of Horses, rider of the White Mare. She gives us the best mounts in Alba. Manannán fills our nets with fish and brings the traders.’
    ‘We, too, revere our Lord Manannán,’ Aedan put in helpfully.
    The man twisted on his oar bench, sizing him up. ‘Is that so? Though I bet you haven’t seen the Eye of Manannán, as I have, harper! It is close now – perhaps you’ll hear it roar!’
    Aedan’s rosy cheeks paled, and his grey eyes widened. ‘An eye that roars?’ he whispered. ‘What is that?’
    ‘A whirlpool,’ came the devastating reply. ‘It’ll suck you down and spit you out in the Otherworld! You’ll never come back here, to be sure!’
    Aedan paled even more, and Eremon regarded him with frustratedaffection. He would have preferred to leave the youth behind, for this was no journey for the faint-hearted. But Aedan leaped into the boat as they fought to leave Erin, and would not be moved. ‘You are going to glory, lord!’ he declared. ‘And I will be there to sing your praises, and to bring your deeds back to Erin, so you are never forgotten!’
    A hail of Donn’s arrows unfortunately cut this stirring speech short, and in the rush to escape there was no time to argue. Now Aedan was here, though, he must do his part. So Eremon stared at him steadily, seeking to put into his eyes what he could not put into words. ‘Aedan, why don’t you go and liven the men up? It will keep their minds off their bellies.’
    Gratefully, Aedan scrambled to his feet and joined Eremon’s men in the stern. Soon the strains of his harp floated across the bow, the playing fine but not up to its usual standard.
    At the first pull on the oar, Eremon’s new blisters broke, and he had to grit his teeth against the pain. Then, just as the boat began to skim over the waves, he felt a queer, tingling sensation on the back of his neck. He threw a glance over his shoulder to the boat just ahead – and saw a white swan’s prow, and beneath, a figure in a blue cloak. Then they cleared the rocks, and the open sea was slapping the bow in the rising breeze, and a cascade of icy water rushed over his hands.
    Conaire was laughing next to him. ‘You know, I could get used to this!’
    Ever since the unexpected arrival of the gaels , Linnet had been withdrawn. Rhiann spoke with her on the beach, but her aunt’s conversation had been desultory, her mind clearly elsewhere. So once the boats were on their way, Rhiann settled beneath the swan prow and retreated into her own thoughts.
    Staring into the water, she wondered again how Linnet could have been excited , of all things. These foreigners had brought Rhiann only fear – she could still feel the aftershock of the trembling in