The cursed towers 208
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"Who kens?" Meghan replied. She let Iseult help her to her feet and went back inside the keep. The Blue
Guards had been sitting drinking at the long table, Dide entertaining them with his songs and juggling,
Finlay and Lachlan playing a game of chess. With a sinking of her heart Meghan saw the old servant
woman was mopping up wine which had been spilled across the table like a stain of blood. "Who spilled
the wine?" she whispered.
"I did," Lachlan replied with a grin. "That crack o' lightning had me and the lads just about jumping out o'
our skins. Let us hope the men had the forethought to camp under a thorn tree and no' under an oak."
"Why?" Iseult said.
"Do ye no' ken that auld rhyme?" Lachlan said. "No, happen ye wouldna. It says:
" 'Beware o' the oak, it draws the stroke,
Avoid the ash, it courts the flash,
Creep under a thorn, it'll save ye from storm.'"
He saw Meghan still looking at the stain of wine and said, "Whatever is the matter, Meghan?"
"Ye who remember auld rhymes should know," she said harshly. " 'Tis a bad omen indeed to spill your
wine thus."
"Drink up your cup but do no' spill wine, for if ye do, 'tis an ill sign," Duncan quoted.
"Och, ye and your omens!" Lachlan said. "Everything is an omen to ye! What about the bee sting in
Lucescere? Nothing bad has happened to me yet, ye ken."
"No' yet," Meghan said but Lachlan only laughed at her and ordered the old servant woman to pour him
a fresh cup.
The next morning the Blue Guards rose early and prepared themselves for battle, checking their weapons
and armor, and washing themselves carefully. Meghan spoke Ea's blessing over the soldiers' heads and
watched them mount up with a frown etched on her brow.
"I canna help being afraid," she said to Jorge, "even though I ken they must go. Ever since I saw that flash
o' lightning yesterday, my heart has been uneasy. I shall no' stay here with ye and Tomas and the healers
as planned. I shall ride out with Lachlan and Iseult and keep them under my eye."
"Is that wise, my dear?" Jorge said wearily. In the bright morning light he looked frailer than ever, his face
heavily lined, his hand clutching his staff like a bird's claw. He had not slept well, his dreams troubled with
strange visions he could not or would not decipher. "Ye are no warrior, and ye ken ye could be a
distraction to the bairns—they will be worried for ye and trying to protect ye. Will ye no' stay here in the
peace o' this wee castle and wait for news with the rest o' us?"
"Happen they will need my magic," Meghan replied. "I am too far away here. How can I call the beasts
o' the field and forest to their aid if I'm stuck away here in the forest? Nay, I shall ride out with them."
Despite Iseult and Lachlan's protests, she would not be swayed from her decision and at last one of the
