The cursed towers 288
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married his son to another. Since this had long been a point of contention within the family, its resolution
was greeted with much joy and relief.
Elfrida NicHilde was to sign on behalf of her people, even though she was a banprionnsa in exile and
Tirsoil-leir was still ruled by the Fealde and the council of elders. Both she and Linley MacSeinn had
been promised help in regaining their lands and their thrones as soon as order had been fully restored
elsewhere in Eileanan, and so they were glad to be accorded as much courtesy and respect as those
prionnsachan still sitting their thrones.
Iain MacFoghnan was ratified as the ruler of Arran, even though his mother still lived. After escaping the
invasion of the fenlands she had reportedly fled to the Fair Isles where she was trying to raise support to
wrest back her throne from her son.
Kenneth MacAhern was just signing his name to the pact when they heard screaming from outside.
Immediately the atmosphere in the room changed. Iseult's hands flew to her belt, only to realize with
chagrin that she was not wearing her weapons, and the Blue Guards drew their claymores. Lilanthe was
standing near the windows, half hidden by the brocade curtains.
"A dragon flies down!" she cried in amazement. There were exclamations of horror and astonishment.
Too many remembered the burning of Ardencaple not to feel fear at the sight of a dragon. Then Lilanthe
cried, "Isabeau! Isabeau rides the dragon! And others as well. Isabeau has come!"
Iseult was on her feet with a glad cry. She did not bother going out the door and down the stairs. She ran
lightly down the hall and with a quick bound leapt out the window, dropping the five storeys to the
ground as lightly as a feather falling.
Asrohc was coming down to land in the garden, her golden wings spread wide, careless of smashed stalls
and screaming, running spectators. On her back were crouched Isabeau, Ishbel, Khan'gharad and the
Fire-maker, all wrapped up against the cold.
Iseult's steps faltered. She smiled through her tears and held out her hands as Isabeau jumped down from
the dragon's back and ran to meet her. The twins embraced tightly, Isabeau babbling greetings and
explanations, Iseult not saying a word but hugging her twin so tight Isabeau feared her ribs would crack.
". . . so ye see, once we saw through the scrying pool what ye planned, we all thought we should come
and be part o' it. Indeed, an historic moment, the signing o' a Pact o' Peace by every land and every faery
race . . ."
"All but the Fairgean," Iseult replied rather grimly.
Isabeau's smile died. "I need to explain about Bron-wen and Maya," she said rapidly.
Iseult nodded. "Time enough for that. Let me greet the Firemaker first and our mam. What are they doing
here? And who is the Khan'cohban o' seven scars? I do no' ken him and I should, for indeed a warrior o'
seven scars is rare enough."
Isabeau smiled radiantly. "He is our dai-deinl Indeed, I had forgotten ye did no' ken. He was ensorcelled
. . . Och, I have so much to tell ye!"
Iseult stared past her in astonishment. Striding toward them was a tall man with a strong, arrogant face
scarred with three slashes on either cheek and another that ran down between his brows. His eyes were
a brilliant blue beneath lowering brows, and his thick red hair was tied back with a leather thong. On
either side of his brow were two curling horns.
