The cursed towers 258
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Isabeau stood by the table, holding a spoon dripping porridge all down her shirt. At her feet was a
broken bowl. Bronwen was bouncing up and down in her chair, throwing her porridge around too, while
Ishbel covered her face with her hands, sobbing.
"It's no use," she cried. "He will never learn to be like a man again! Look at him."
Isabeau ignored her. She said gently but firmly, "Come, dai-dein, I shall no' let ye eat on all fours like an
animal. I know ye are hungry but ye must learn to act like a man again. Watch what I do."
She turned and sat down at the table, just as a globule of porridge from Bronwen's spoon hit her full in
the face. "That's enough, Bronwen!" she snapped. "This is no' a game. Just because my father does no'
remember his manners does no' mean that ye can forget yours!" She wiped her face clean and took a
deep breath, trying to control her temper. "Now watch, dai-dein." Slowly Isabeau ate from her bowl,
exaggerating her movements. Her father neighed and tossed back his head and galloped across the room,
thrusting his face into the oatmeal spilt on the floor.
"It's no use," Ishbel said again, her face wet with tears. "He has been a horse too long. He shall never—"
"Yes, he shall," Isabeau snapped. She got to her feet again and knelt by Khan'gharad's side, whickering
in reassurance as he shied away from her hand. Gently she pulled him up to a standing position. "Try and
remember, dai-dein."
He stood, swaying slightly, his blue eyes so dilated from fear and confusion that the blue was almost
blacked out. She encouraged him to take a step and then another, but then his courage failed and he fell
onto his knees. Ishbel covered her face again, weeping, and Isabeau turned on her in exasperation.
"Mam, why will ye no' come and help me? Come and put your arm under his shoulder and show him
how it is done."
"I just canna bear to see him like this," Ishbel wailed.
"Greeting will do none o' us any good!" Isabeau cried. "He has been a horse for so long he does no'
remember how a man should walk. We must teach him again."
Ishbel dried her face with her napkin and came to Khan'gharad's side, helping him rise to his feet again.
Together they helped him walk across the room, his lip gripped between his teeth, his shoulders hunched.
"Straight, dai-deinV7 Isabeau seized his shoulders and pulled them back. "Remember ye are a Scarred
Warrior and walk proud!"
For the first time it seemed her words penetrated the mists of his mind, for he stood tall, shaking back his
hair and striding out like a man. Isabeau cried, "Good, good!" and Bronwen clapped her hands. Isabeau
guided him to the table and helped him sit, giving him the spoon to hold. It fell from his fingers and she
gave it to him again. This time he managed to grasp it, and she passed him her bowl of porridge, by now
cold and congealed. Holding his fingers in hers, she tried to scoop up a spoonful but he could not manage
it. At last he flung the spoon away from him in frustration and grabbed a handful of food and carried it to
his mouth, cramming it in before Isabeau could stop him.
When she tried again to make him use the spoon, her father sprang up in a rage, knocking over his chair,
stumbling and falling to his knees. There he crouched, grunting, his shoulders rigid with frustration.
Ishbel knelt by his side, stroking his hair and saying, "Never mind, my dearling, never mind."
Isabeau bent and pulled him up again. "Try again, dai-deinV
