The cursed towers 269
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happy."
"If they canna talk, how can Iain ken what they intend?"
"They will tell him," Gwilym replied, clearly still exasperated. "Just because they do no' speak our
language does no' mean they canna communicate. If they wish to woo a female or warn another male
away from their territory, they rub their wings and claws together, and that is how they communicate with
us too, though contemptuously. They think humans very crude and unsophisticated."
Suddenly the humming began to rise again, and the Mesmerdean moved, some rearing back with their
claws extended, others lowering their heads and dropping their wings. Some of the buzzing was so shrill
the Graycloaks had to cover their ears.
"No' good," Gwilym said. "Some refuse to give up their vendetta."
Iain continued to stand still, facing them, and the humming quavered, grew in intensity. Long minutes
passed, and then the Mesmerdean melted back into the mist. The prionnsa came back to them slowly, his
face thoughtful and rather grim. He sat down and called to one of the soldiers to bring him some food.
"So what happened?" Iseult demanded impatiently. "Why have they gone?"
"We have an amnesty o' sorts," Iain replied. "I simply sat and thought about my m-m-mother and how
tricky and t-t-treacherous she can be. This impressed upon them forcibly. Then I thought about who was
truly the p-p-power in the land, able to decide on b-b-borders and territory. Ye ken my m-m-mother has
been promising them for ages that once she had the reins o' p-p-power in her hands she would make
sure the m-m-marshlands spread out across the land again. I made it clear that only the M-M-MacCuinn
had the power to do that. I said that we have already spoken with the NicThanach and that she agreed to
give up the 1-1-land the MacTha-nach clan reclaimed for farmlands and allow the s-s-swamps to spread
once m-m-more."
"I hope ye made them realize how many concessions we had to make to the NicThanach before she
would agree," Iseult said with an expressive snort. "Who would have guessed such a milksop could
bargain so shrewdly?"
Meghan smiled. "The MacThanachs are always shrewd when it comes to protecting their own interests.
They are a practical clan indeed."
"Still, we are p-p-paying highly for land that has never been very fruitful," Iain said. "The s-s-soil was
always sour and is even m-m-more so now that the bulwark has been b-b-broken down and the tide
runs as it wills. The NicThanach w-w-would have had a hard time making it fertile enough for crops
anyway. This way, she gets rich t-t-trade concessions with Arran as well as Rionnagan and Clachan."
"No' to mention rich dowries for her five sisters," Meghan said with a little laugh. "Indeed, she is a canny
bargainer, that lassie. I have hopes she will make a fine NicThanach."
"So what did the Mesmerdean say? Did they agree to give us their assistance in return for no' rebuilding
the bulwark and letting the water seep back? It is a significant concession."
Iain shook his head wearily. "They are interested but n-n-no' convinced. After all, my m-m-mother has
promised them the s-s-same result and they at least k-k-ken and respect her. Ye are strangers in their
1-1-land and they resent that. The only f-f-factor in our favor is that they are angry with my m-m-mother
for waking them early. M-M-Mesmerdean dislike the cold and all this ice ye've been conjuring
m-m-makes them very irritable."
