‘Listen,’ he said softly, and beckoned with his bloodied hands; ‘listen to my story.’ He sat down on a moss-covered rock and waited as the people of An Rinn crept cautiously closer. Elenya moved behind him, the better to translate, and dragged Akisi with her. ‘Once there was a land where the summers were not scorching and the winters not harsh. In that land there was a king, who was a good man and loved by his people. No one went hungry, and everyone had a home.
‘Then there was a calamity. There came men from the far south and formed a mighty army. But there was worse. They commanded a dragon, who used to fly about over the good king’s land, burning the houses, destroying the crops and eating the cattle. The people were terrified, and they petitioned the king to save them.
‘But the king was old and tired, and his sons were not yet ready to fight, let alone fight a dragon. He sent word out to all his friends, but while sympathy and good wishes were returned, no help came. The king despaired, and his peaceful kingdom was doomed to lie in ruins.’
A little girl squeezed her way to the front and, thinking that this was a normal storytelling, sat at Va’s feet. She looked up at him, waiting for him to continue.
‘I . . .’
‘Go on,’ hissed Elenya.
‘Then, just as the king’s hall itself was attacked by the dragon, a magician came striding in. He bowed low to the king and introduced himself. He had heard that there was trouble: he would send the dragon back to its fiery home, and perhaps then he would chase the southmen all the way to their ice-caves. The king was frightened, but he had only to listen to the thunderous wing-beats of the dragon above his roof to be convinced. He gave his permission, and he waited inside with his sons while the magician went out to do battle.
‘Everything went silent. Eventually the magician came back in, his cloak smouldering, to tell the king that it was as he had wished. The dragon had gone. The southmen were driven away. In return, he wanted nothing but to live and work and study in the king’s land.
‘But the southmen were furious. They looked for their own magician, and they came back with seven. The lakes boiled, the trees burned, the very air caught fire. The good king’s magician was not strong enough to defeat the seven, so he sent for his three brothers. They left the king’s hall, and everything went silent.
‘Eventually they came back in to tell the king that it was as he had wished. The seven southern magicians had been defeated, and the southmen driven back to their ice-caves. They wanted nothing in return but to live and work and study in the king’s land.
‘But the southmen were incandescent with rage. They summoned a demon from the lowest pit of Hell, and seventy appeared. They sent them swarming over the country, destroying everything that was good about the land. The rocks that made the mountains cracked, the sea rose up, the wind blew so hard that every building save the king’s hall was knocked flat. The good king’s magician and the magician’s three brothers were not strong enough to defeat the seventy, so they called on thirty angels. They left the king’s hall, and everything went silent.
‘At last they came back in to tell the king that it was as he had wished. The seventy demons had been consigned back to Hell, and the southmen buried alive in ice. But there was no longer a kingdom to protect. The beautiful country where the summers were warm and the winters mild was no more. And the old king wept, for he knew that he should have fought the dragon himself.’
Va stopped, and so did Elenya. They waited.
‘I won’t let you go, Rory macShiel; not on the strength of a story.’
‘Let go, woman. The monk might be mad but he tells it truly. We have to fight our own dragons. Leave me be, Eithne.’
macShiel finally broke through, pulling his wife behind him. ‘I’ve no wish to see my land, or anyone’s, put to ruin. I’ll take you wherever you want to go,’ he said.
‘Not so fast, macShiel. My boat isn’t as fancy as yours, but it’ll do the job just the same.’ macFinn squared up to the other man, tucking his thumbs into the waistband of his breeches.
‘Who put you in charge, Mici Finn?’ shouted a voice. ‘I’ll take them, and I won’t get lost.’
‘Who said that? Was that you, macDooley?’
Seizing the opportunity, Va took macShiel’s arm and pulled him close. ‘Where’s the boat?’
‘Down in the harbour. We’ll leave these hot-heads arguing over their precious honour and get on with the job, yes?’
Va barely understood, but a glance at Elenya confirmed what he’d hoped.
‘We need to run,’ she said. ‘Look.’
On the crest of the hill, two silhouettes of horse and rider.
Akisi thought to delay them by breaking away, his mouth half formed into a shout. macShiel spun round and struck his jaw with one of his work-hardened fists. The Kenyan went down, and Va scooped him up.
‘Go.’ Elenya took the book from him, and Va threw the length of Akisi’s body around his shoulders.
The tide was out, and macShiel’s boat was beached with three others.
‘Get him in, then yourselves.’ macShiel shouldered the bow like a bull and heaved it into the water, his feet gouging holes in the shingle. He kept pushing until he was up to his waist.
Va waded in after him and tumbled the groaning Akisi into the bottom of the boat. He grabbed hold of the side and pulled himself in afterwards. He put his hand down. The book was jammed into it, then Elenya’s hand.
He stiffened, then shut his eyes and hauled her in.
macShiel turned the boat out to sea with a mighty heave and scrambled aboard.
‘Get the sail up,’ he ordered. ‘Pull that rope there.’
‘What?’
‘For God’s sake, man, this one.’ He waved it in Va’s face.
The horsemen were in the town and heading for the harbour. Va started to pull on the rope, hand over hand. Wet canvas crawled up the mast, fluttered in the wind, then snapped taut as macShiel loosened the jib line. Then he jammed a piece of wood shaped like a fish’s fin through the floor of the boat, and all the aimless rocking and splashing suddenly transformed into a surge of movement.
They were fast enough to leave a white wake behind them, which the greedy waves soon obscured.
CHAPTER 26
THE LITTLE BOAT made steady progress all through the day, heading westwards towards the rising sun. When that climbed higher in the northern sky, macShiel made certain that it was on his right shoulder. Crouched in the stern, tiller in one hand, jib line in the other, he eyed the thin line of dark land in front of them.
‘Aeire’s behind us. We have to go north around that, then follow the coast.’
‘Whose land is it?’ asked Elenya.
‘We call the land Sasana, and it’s a wild, lawless place. Best avoided.’
Akisi, jaw still aching where macShiel had hit him, said: ‘They are more barbarous than either of you. They spend their time in filth and fighting.’
Elenya stared him down. ‘No one asked you.’
He fell silent and looked away, rubbing his chin with a wet hand. Salt water was supposed to be good for bruises.
macShiel swung the tiller, and the boat turned to the north-west.
The hull bucked as the wind gusted round to a different quarter. The sail canvas wriggled like a worm, and macShiel slackened the jib rope. Elenya pulled hard on its opposite number and the jib came swinging around. The three of them in the stern ducked. The sail snapped taut again, and Elenya passed the end of the rope to macShiel, who tied off the one he was holding before accepting the new one.