Страница 86 из 114
It was entirely possible that she had been part of that terrorist group. It was also entirely possible that she was i
The question of how he'd done it was answered shortly enough. Moving at a steady gallop, they covered the remaining miles rapidly, only to discover that their quarry was no longer on the road. He had bolted, abandoning his packhorse, which they found grazing at the verge of the Roman highway, snatching up greedy mouthfuls of grass. A search of the horse's pa
Artorius held one of the glass bottles up, peering curiously at the lumps visible inside. "It looks like chunks of meat and rotten vegetables."
"Don't open any of them!" Stirling warned sharply, seeing all too clearly how Ba
Worse, yet, was the damage Ba
Stirling had to shut his eyes against the vision of all Ireland dying, leaving the island wide open for Saxon invasion. Ba
The question was, which way had Lailoken and his unseen guest bolted? West, to Ireland? To spread the word of alliance and treachery, while quietly leaving mass murder in his wake? Or south, to join his Saxon kinfolk and take to Aelle and Cutha the secret of biological warfare contained in these monstrous little bottles?
In low, terse tones, Stirling told Artorius as much as he could, without compromising Ancelotis' status as his host. Artorius listened in black silence, then spat to one side.
"We'll have to split our forces, meager as they are. Two riders west, toward the coast, two east, in case he's bolted for Dewyr, as Cutha did. The rest of us will ride south, toward Caer-Badonicus. And pray God we catch him before he reaches his paymasters."
Staring utter disaster in the face, whichever way Lailoken had bolted, they mounted their war-horses in silence and set out in grim pursuit.
Dawn's first hint of oyster light had touched the eastern sky when one of the sailors who'd climbed the mast to act as lookout spotted sails dead ahead.
"I see them!" he shouted, pointing. "He's landward of us, rounding the tip of Kintyre!"
Morgana's heart lurched into her throat and Bre
Bre
Riona Damhnait had already taught the sloop's captain the words to shout, as deeper male voices carried farther across water than women's voices ever could. The captain bellowed out the message, which drew startled reactions from the Irish crew. A moment later, they had dropped a sea anchor overboard, slowing their speed enough to match pace with the slower Irish ship. Dallan mac Dalriada appeared at the ship's rail, shouting a question across. Riona answered, shouting as loudly as she could, while the sailors of both craft flung ropes across, snugging the ships together and ru
"Help me across, Medraut," Morgana said, swallowing down nausea that had very little to do with the wild pitching of the deck under their feet. "And help your bride and Riona, as well."
A moment later, all four stood on Dallan mac Dalriada's deck, while Keelin flung herself into her father's arms and sobbed out their awful news. The Irish king washed white with shock, holding his daughter tightly while he flung questions at his Druidess. Riona spoke rapidly, urgently, hands sketching gestures in the cold, wet dawnlight as she relayed the message which had come by way of the young Briton slave. His face clouded over with black rage as he listened. When he snarled some order, sending his men toward the Britons, weapons drawn, Keelin flung herself into Medraut's arms and spoke shrilly, nearly hysterical in her effort to stop whatever her father had just ordered. Given the black looks the crew sent their way, neither Morgana nor Bre
Keelin braced herself at bay, arms thrown wide to protect Morgana and Medraut, like a wild vixen run to earth and snarling at the hounds who snapped at her helpless kits. Even Riona stared in surprise at the violence of the girl's response to Medraut's abrupt danger. What Medraut did next sent Morgana's heart plunging straight into the sea. He unslung his sword and dropped it onto the wet deck, took Keelin gently by the shoulders, and lifted her aside. He then stepped forward and faced the wild-eyed king straight on. Without turning his gaze away from Dallan mac Dalriada's for so much as a half-second, he said to Riona Damhnait, "Please tell my father-in-law that I will gladly die by his hand, if it is his will. But my death will accomplish nothing, not even vengeance, if he attacks Britain and allows the true culprits, the Saxons, to escape unscathed, laughing in their beards at blind Irish rage."