The Forbidden Land Read Online Free Page A

to ride out, no matter how defiant her daughter grew.
    The more tense and anxious the atmosphere in the castle, the more difficult Finn found it to contain her restless energy. All the squires had gone to attend the MacRuraich and his officers so there was no-one with whom to practise swordplay. She had ridden her horse Cinders round the outer bailey so many times she knew every crack in the wall and every tuft of grass. Most of the potboys and stable lads had been conscripted into the army so there was no-one to play football with, and the castle guards were all too busy to spend time telling her stories or teaching her to wrestle. She practised shooting with her little crossbow until she could hit the bullseye more often than not, then amused herself by exploring the secret passages and spying on the servants through the peepholes cleverly concealed in the carved panelling. This proved to be such a fascinating pastime that Finn lost track of time, only realising how late it was with a little squeak of dismay when she saw a procession of lackeys carrying heavily loaded trays up the back stairs to the dining hall. Nothing was more likely to anger her mother than Finn being late for her dinner again.
    Finn scrambled up the secret stairway, through the dark labyrinthine passageways and out the hidden doorway closest to the dining hall. It had been hours since she had eaten and she was very hungry indeed.
    The secret doorway was concealed within the huge fireplace that took up most of one wall of the landing. Given the warmth of the day, the fire had luckily not yet been lit so that Finn was able to scramble out without too much trouble.
    Unfortunately, she was just crawling out of the fireplace, the elven cat at her heels, when her cousin Brangaine came demurely down the stairs, dressed in leaf-green silk which brought out the colour of her eyes, her long blonde hair shining in the candlelight. She looked Finn up and down, then said sweetly, ‘Has my lady sent all the chimneysweeps out to fight the sea demons, that ye must be sweeping up the cinders yourself, Fionnghal?’
    The daughter of Gwyneth’s younger sister, Brangaine had been brought to Castle Rurach after being named laird of the MacSian clan. Although Gwyneth said Brangaine needed to be taught her duties and responsibilities as banprionnsa of Siantan, Finn knew her mother hoped some of Brangaine’s poise and civility would rub off on her. Nineteen years old, Brangaine had been brought up in seclusion at her family’s country estate by three maiden aunts who had instilled in her every rule of courtly deportment. Brangaine knew what fork to use when eating quail, when to say ‘Your Honour’, the exact degree of curtsy required for every rank of society, and how to be civil to the servants without being too familiar. Brangaine never spilled food down her clothes, or tore her skirt playing chase-and-hide with the servant lads, or was caught stealing honey cakes from the kitchen. Her hair was always smooth and shiny, her boots were always well polished, and she always had a clean handkerchief. The very sight of her was enough to put Finn’s teeth on edge.
    At first Brangaine had been polite to her cousin but Finn had been uncomfortable in her newfound place in life and had been quick to take offence at what she saw as Brangaine’s smirk of superiority. Brangaine’s comments and suggestions had gradually become edged with mockery, though always delivered with such sweetness of demeanour that only Finn had heard the derision beneath.
    At her cousin’s words, Finn glanced down at herself in some dismay, only then realising how very dirty she was. Her skirt was covered in dust and ashes, and the hem was dangling where she had caught it on her heel. Her knees were black and her brown curls all in a tangle. She eyed Brangaine with dislike, saying loftily, ‘No’ at all. I just dropped something and had some trouble finding it.’
    Brangaine smiled her superior smile.