The cursed towers 289
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He brought two fingers sweeping to his brow, then to his heart, then out to the garden. Iseult bent her
head and lifted one hand to cover her eyes, the other hand bent outward in supplication. Such was the
proper way to greet a Scarred Warrior. He grunted and she dropped her hands, though her eyes
remained lowered. Then he reached out and caught her to him, hugging her fiercely. For a moment Iseult
was frozen in surprise, for Khan'-cohbans did not embrace. Then her arms flew round him and she
hugged her father back.
There was a joyful reunion with Ishbel and the Fire-maker, neither of whom Iseult had seen since her
marriage four years earlier, then she went to bow before the dragon-princess and exchange greetings.
Isabeau turned in search of Meghan and her smile faltered as she saw Lachlan standing before her, his
wings erect, his face stern.
"So, the miscreant has returned," he said. Tart words rose to her tongue but she swallowed them,
curtseying respectfully instead, eyes lowered.
"What have ye done with my niece?" he asked.
"I gave her to Maya so she would remove the curse from ye, Your Highness," Isabeau replied equably.
Surprise flitted across his face. Then he laughed. "O' all the things I was expecting ye to say, that was no'
among them! Ye continually astonish me, Isabeau. Ye and your sister, both. Come, who is that man my
wife was just embracing so affectionately?"
Isabeau bit back a grin. "That, Your Highness, is my stallion Lasair, who ye wanted to have shot. He was
really my father Khan'gharad, whom Maya ensorcelled on the Day o' Betrayal. Nineteen years he was a
horse, Your Highness, and indeed he has found life as a man again very difficult."
"I can imagine," Lachlan murmured sympathetically. "I was only a blackbird for close on five years and
yet still I find it hard sometimes. Come, I can see it's quite a story ye have to tell us! Will ye no' all come
up to the meeting hall? We were halfway through signing a most historic piece o' paper when ye so rudely
interrupted us. Ye can tell us your tale and make your excuses later."
Isabeau was torn between a smile and an angry refutation, but she saw the rueful twinkle in Lachlan's
eyes and grinned in response. "Aye, Your Highness. Ye ken your word is my command," she answered
and he laughed.
With her arm linked through Iseult's, Isabeau followed the Righ through the palace and into the meeting
hall. She was greeted so warmly by so many that her cheeks crimsoned. She had dreaded returning to
Lucescere, sure that her welcome would not be warm. But it seemed that no one was willing to let the
good cheer of the day be ruined by old tensions.
Meghan was waiting impatiently in the long conference hall and Isabeau was shocked at how old and
haggard she looked, with her long plait all white and her small frame gaunter than ever. The black eyes
still snapped with vitality, however, and she pulled Isabeau into a fierce embrace.
"What do ye mean by sneaking off into the night like that and no' sending word for three long years?" she
cried. "It's worried to death I've been about ye."
"I'm sorry," Isabeau said contritely. "Indeed it seemed the best thing to do at the time, and where I've
been I've had no way o' sending ye a message."
"Ye were always a foolish, impetuous lass, but I had thought ye had begun to gain some sense," Meghan
snapped. "Why did ye no' trust me to have a care for the wee lassie?"
