marched off, at once beginning to describe the variety and uses of buildings we passed. I tried leading him to talk of the Druid, in the hope of getting a clue about the block over the camp, but he seemed to know as little about it as I did. I concentrated on memorizing the camp.
We passed a long windowless series of buildings which Emmon pronounced as storehouses.
'Where do all the Druid's supplies come from?' I asked.
Emmon grinned. 'From th' Council's own stores. Th' Council dinna know their own trusted agent is a friend and oath kin to th' Druid.'
Oath kin? That meant someone as close as blood without being related. The Druid had an oath kin on the Council. The Druid was as canny a strategist as ever. With a chill, I realized the rumours about Obernewtyn could have been generated by the Druid's friend.
'Is it true ye've been to Obernewtyn?' Emmon asked suddenly, as if reading my mind.
'True enough,' I said.
He shook his head in wonder. 'That's th' library.' He pointed to another building. It seemed his dislike of spelling did not run to books. The Druid had obviously instilled his followers with his own love of books.
'I hear Erin dinna take to ye much,' Emmon said.
'Who told you that?' I asked sharply.
Emmon smiled. 'I'll take ye to visit a friend of mine.'
Before I could answer he ran off, and I was forced to follow. I found him outside the door to a small cottage. As I reached his side, he knocked firmly on the door.
'Who lives here?' I asked. I heard footsteps inside. 'Erin's twin sister lives here,' he whispered, as the door swung open. I gave him a furious look, but it was too late. The door opened and a delicious odour wafted out.
'Gilaine, it's me. I've brought a visitor,' Emmon announced. He sniffed and sighed. 'Honeyballs.'
I stared at the girl who had answered the door.
There was no question whose sister she was. But they were as much alike as the sun and the moon. Where Erin's hair was spun gold and elaborately dressed, Gilaine wore her long, ashen tresses loose about her shoulders. Erin's eyes were bright blue, but Gilaine's were grey as clouds with the sun behind them. The greatest difference though, lay in their expressions. Erin's face was haughty and querulous, but Gilaine's was gentle, the smile on her mouth only echoing the smile in her eyes. I was immediately drawn to her.
'This is Elspeth. She's one of them gypsy folk,' Emmon said, slipping behind her into the house.
Gilaine smiled. I wondered why she did not speak. As if in answer to my thought, she raised a finger to her lips. At first I thought she was trying to tell me to be quiet, then I realized. She was mute.
'The honeyballs are burnin'!' Emmon wailed. Gilaine smiled, gesturing for me to follow her.
The cottage was tiny, consisting of three sections. A closet with a bed in it, a front hall and a cosy and relatively large kitchen. The honeyballs turned out to be tiny crisp sweets.
Mouth full, I asked Emmon why I had not seen Gilaine at the nightmeal. Emmon managed to look wrathful over bulging cheeks. 'She is nowt asked,' he said.
The old Druid was a perfectionist. He hated anything flawed. Gilaine was mute. Poor Gilaine, I thought. Seeing my look she smiled sadly and shrugged.
We stayed with Gilaine until it was time to go. I was surprised to hear Emmon confess his deception, but Gilaine only shook her head helplessly and ruffled his hair with an expression of mingled concern and exasperation.
Crossing the green to the meeting house, I spotted Jik playing ball with some younger children and asked Emmon if I could talk to him.
'Well, yer nowt supposed to, an' ye know what a stickler I am for rules. But if I was to gan over an wash my hands at th' spring, I'd nowt see what ye were up to. I'm a gullible fellow,' he said with an engaging smirk.
'Do you know where the others are being kept?' I asked Jik as soon as we could speak. There was no time for greetings.
He shook his head. 'I think they're some place outside the
We passed a long windowless series of buildings which Emmon pronounced as storehouses.
'Where do all the Druid's supplies come from?' I asked.
Emmon grinned. 'From th' Council's own stores. Th' Council dinna know their own trusted agent is a friend and oath kin to th' Druid.'
Oath kin? That meant someone as close as blood without being related. The Druid had an oath kin on the Council. The Druid was as canny a strategist as ever. With a chill, I realized the rumours about Obernewtyn could have been generated by the Druid's friend.
'Is it true ye've been to Obernewtyn?' Emmon asked suddenly, as if reading my mind.
'True enough,' I said.
He shook his head in wonder. 'That's th' library.' He pointed to another building. It seemed his dislike of spelling did not run to books. The Druid had obviously instilled his followers with his own love of books.
'I hear Erin dinna take to ye much,' Emmon said.
'Who told you that?' I asked sharply.
Emmon smiled. 'I'll take ye to visit a friend of mine.'
Before I could answer he ran off, and I was forced to follow. I found him outside the door to a small cottage. As I reached his side, he knocked firmly on the door.
'Who lives here?' I asked. I heard footsteps inside. 'Erin's twin sister lives here,' he whispered, as the door swung open. I gave him a furious look, but it was too late. The door opened and a delicious odour wafted out.
'Gilaine, it's me. I've brought a visitor,' Emmon announced. He sniffed and sighed. 'Honeyballs.'
I stared at the girl who had answered the door.
There was no question whose sister she was. But they were as much alike as the sun and the moon. Where Erin's hair was spun gold and elaborately dressed, Gilaine wore her long, ashen tresses loose about her shoulders. Erin's eyes were bright blue, but Gilaine's were grey as clouds with the sun behind them. The greatest difference though, lay in their expressions. Erin's face was haughty and querulous, but Gilaine's was gentle, the smile on her mouth only echoing the smile in her eyes. I was immediately drawn to her.
'This is Elspeth. She's one of them gypsy folk,' Emmon said, slipping behind her into the house.
Gilaine smiled. I wondered why she did not speak. As if in answer to my thought, she raised a finger to her lips. At first I thought she was trying to tell me to be quiet, then I realized. She was mute.
'The honeyballs are burnin'!' Emmon wailed. Gilaine smiled, gesturing for me to follow her.
The cottage was tiny, consisting of three sections. A closet with a bed in it, a front hall and a cosy and relatively large kitchen. The honeyballs turned out to be tiny crisp sweets.
Mouth full, I asked Emmon why I had not seen Gilaine at the nightmeal. Emmon managed to look wrathful over bulging cheeks. 'She is nowt asked,' he said.
The old Druid was a perfectionist. He hated anything flawed. Gilaine was mute. Poor Gilaine, I thought. Seeing my look she smiled sadly and shrugged.
We stayed with Gilaine until it was time to go. I was surprised to hear Emmon confess his deception, but Gilaine only shook her head helplessly and ruffled his hair with an expression of mingled concern and exasperation.
Crossing the green to the meeting house, I spotted Jik playing ball with some younger children and asked Emmon if I could talk to him.
'Well, yer nowt supposed to, an' ye know what a stickler I am for rules. But if I was to gan over an wash my hands at th' spring, I'd nowt see what ye were up to. I'm a gullible fellow,' he said with an engaging smirk.
'Do you know where the others are being kept?' I asked Jik as soon as we could speak. There was no time for greetings.
He shook his head. 'I think they're some place outside the
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