"Kate Forsyth - Eileanan 01 - The Witches Of Eileanan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forsyth Kate)

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The Witches of Eileanan
KATE FORSYTH
A ROC BOOK



THE FIRST STRAND IS DRAWN




ISABEAU THE FOUNDLING



Isabeau swung her pack over her shoulder and strode down the track, her eyes roaming over the
ground as she searched for the first unfurling of leaf and flower through the muddy snow. It was only
a few days till Candlemas and the beginning of spring, and since it was the first fine day in months,
Isabeau had spent all day digging and cutting, filling her herb bag with roots, leaves and early
flowers.

Although the sun on her neck was warm, snow still glittered on the jagged peaks above her and
lay piled in the shadows below the massive trees. It had been a bitter winter and Isabeau was glad
to be out in the meadows again, breathing deeply of the sweet air and calling the creatures of the
valley to her. Animals of all kinds were stirring as the sap flowed again in the stem, and they
gamboled about her feet or twittered to her from the bushes, tempting her to lay down her spade
and knife and play with them. She smiled and spoke to them in their own language, but did not stop,
knowing she was tired and the light already fading. She must be home before nightfall. Although the
hidden valley was almost impossible to find by chance, these mountains were dangerous, the valley's
teeming life temptation to hungry hunters, whether human, beast or fairy.

The path led down through the trunks of ancient, towering trees. Through the entwined branches
came glimpses of the rocky finger of Dragonclaw, rearing above the lesser mountains around it, its
narrow tip dusted with snow. Isabeau paused at the crest of the hill, stretching her aching back and
enjoying the spectacular view. The loch below her stretched toward the eastern rim of the valley
bowl, coiled over the edge and fell hundreds of feet to the valleys below. Above the far distant hills,
the two moons were rising. Magnysson bronze in the sunset sky, Gladrielle lavender. There was a
faint tang of smoke to the air and Isabeau stepped forward eagerly, realizing her guardian must have
returned while she was out in the meadows. Meghan had been away for several weeks now, and
Isabeau had begun to wonder whether she would return in time for her sixteenth birthday, only two
days away.

Reaching the base of one of the massive trees that stood around the loch, Isabeau tucked her
spade more securely into her belt and began to climb swiftly and easily. Soon she was forty feet off
the ground and reaching out for the gossamer ropes that hung between the branches, almost invisible