Free Raven Flight by Juliet Marillier Page B

court in the east. Many chieftains; many clans. And that’s just the human folk. Our own kind are everywhere. Enough for an army, certainly. But widespread, and not of one mind. How could you draw them together?” The creature’s gaze took in Regan himself, then moved to Tali, to me, to the rebels seated in their circle. “A handful, that’s all you have.”
    “Shadowfell started with a handful,” Regan said, smiling. “But there are more now. Those of us you see before you make up the heart of the operation; here at Shadowfell our planning is done and our decisions are made. But we have teams elsewhere in Alban, and other loyal folk who shelter us when we cross country, and who bear our messages at great risk to themselves. Of the eight chieftains still remaining in Alban, two have agreed to stand with us when we challenge the king; one of those two, in particular, can provide a substantial fighting force.”
    “So ye’d still be fightin’ the king’s Enforcers,” said Hawkbit. “We dinna doubt your bravery. Your sanity, now that’s another thing.”
    “You should not doubt Regan.” Tali spoke up for the first time. “This is a different kind of war. At the end there will be an armed confrontation, yes, and you are right—the king’s Enforcers are formidable in combat. But don’t discount our ability in battle; we accounted for an entire troop in the autumn, thanks in part to Neryn’s use of her gift.”
    The wee man in the sheepskin coat spoke up. “ ’Twasna your ability won that battle; ’twas the aid o’ a stanie mon, one o’ our folk. Without that, the king’s men would hae made an end o’ ye all.”
    “That’s unfair,” rapped out Tali. “Besides, how can you know that?”
    “Ye hae eyes at court,” the wee man said. “We hae eyes everywhere. We dinna miss much. As for unfair , what’s unfair is this king who’s set all at sixes and sevens, so a bodycanna sae much as draw breath wi’oot Callers rappin’ on the door and stirrin’ us all up.”
    “Enough!” It was Woodrush who spoke, getting to her feet and turning a ferocious glare on the speaker. “ ’Twas the Caller drew us up tae talk wi’ human folk, aye, and that was against our natural inclination. But we’re here now, and I dinna plan tae waste the time bickerin’. The rest o’ ye, if all ye can do is complain, then drink your mead, eat your cake, and hold your tongues.” She motioned toward Regan. “This man’s a guid man. Ye ken he keeps the auld observances; ye’ve seen him performin’ the rituals in his ain way, season by season, faithful tae the traditions o’ Alban. Why else would we hae bothered tae keep his band o’ rebels supplied ower the lang winters in the Folds? Now he needs help, and he’s runnin’ short o’ time. We know change is comin’ and there’s nae stoppin’ it. ’Tis hard for me to say this, for ’tis no’ the way o’ our folk tae join wi’ humankind in their wars and disputes. But this is different. The fate o’ Alban’s at stake and the time for hidin’ awa’ is ower. If there must be change, let’s mak’ sure it’s change for the better.”
    “Short of time,” echoed Pearl-Wort. “How short?”
    “You understand, I am sure, that all our plans must be kept secret,” Regan said. This was something we had discussed endlessly in preparation for the council, for if word got out among the human populace of Alban, the rebellion would be over before it really began. “We’ve taken great pains over the years to keep it so. If Keldec got the slightest indication that an organized rebellion is taking shape,the Enforcers would hunt down every last one of us. As it is, the attacks and skirmishes that occur from time to time as we go out to spread the word are fraught with risk. You know, perhaps, the practices the king’s men use to extract information from captives.” He glanced at Andra.
    “You can tell them,” she said.
    Regan gave her a nod. “Andra and her