Back Dreamer's Pool
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. About Dreamer's Pool
  3. Title page
  4. Contents
  5. Dedication
  6. Character List
  7. 1 Blackthorn
  8. 2 Grim
  9. 3 Oran
  10. 4 Blackthorn
  11. 5 Grim
  12. 6 Oran
  13. 7 Blackthorn
  14. 8 Grim
  15. 9 Oran
  16. 10 Blackthorn
  17. 11 Grim
  18. 12 Oran
  19. 13 Blackthorn
  20. 14 Oran
  21. 15 Blackthorn
  22. 16 Oran
  23. 17 Blackthorn
  24. 18 Grim
  25. 19 Oran
  26. 20 Blackthorn
  27. 21 Grim
  28. 22 Oran
  29. 23 Grim
  30. 24 Blackthorn
  31. 25 Oran
  32. 26 Grim
  33. 27 Blackthorn
  34. 28 Grim
  35. 29 Oran
  36. 30 Blackthorn
  37. 31 Grim
  38. 32 Blackthorn
  39. 33 Oran
  40. 34 Grim
  41. 35 Blackthorn
  42. 36 Grim
  43. 37 Oran
  44. 38 Blackthorn
  45. 39 Oran
  46. 40 Grim
  47. 41 Blackthorn
  48. Acknowledgments
  49. About Juliet Marillier
  50. Also by Juliet Marillier
  51. Copyright page

Close by us sat a group of well-dressed women, and among them I recognised some faces from that day at Dreamer’s Wood, when the maid had drowned. Two of these had been among Lady Flidais’s attendants who had come with her to my cottage: the kindly spoken one with dark hair, who nodded and smiled at me now, and beside her the grey-haired one. And there was the little dog that had bitten its mistress’s hand. Not with Lady Flidais now, but curled up on the knee of a formidable-looking older woman in a fur-trimmed cape. This personage subjected me to a thorough scrutiny; I met her gaze with as much calm as I could summon. I wanted to go home. Not to Fraoch’s, but to the cottage as it had been before the fire. Or, failing that, out into the woods to wander again. In this grand establishment I was like a crow among songbirds, shut in, out of place, dangerous.

There was a long table set crosswise on the dais, with a bench behind it. Donagan motioned to a serving man, who opened a door to one side. No trumpet fanfare, no bowing and scraping. Only a fellow with a loud voice, walking in and calling out, ‘Prince Oran of Dalriada, and Lady Flidais!’

Everyone stood up, so we did too, and Prince Oran and his modest entourage came in to take their places at the table. The official party consisted of the prince, the lady, who was clad in a flowing garment of soft blue with her hair covered by a veil, two men in long robes, and a stocky fellow of middle years, wearing a tunic that matched those of the prince’s guards, deep green with an oak tree embroidered on the breast. Donagan placed himself at the far end of the table. An attendant trailed Lady Flidais: the tall waiting woman from that day at Dreamer’s Wood. She stood behind her mistress. More guards had entered with them, but not as many as I would have expected. If I had things right, Oran was primary heir to the Dalriadan throne. It surprised me that he was prepared to let a crowd of folk like us come so close. I could have picked him off with a well-thrown knife before any of those guards could stop me.