Free The White Horse Trick by Kate Thompson Page B

fruit. In one corner was a television that still worked. It was more than fifteen years since there had been any broadcasts for it to receive, but there was a DVD player and discs stacked in twin piles that almost reached the ceiling. All the electrics, including the lights, ran from a small generator outside, powered by stockpiled diesel. It was in no danger of running out of fuel just yet, even though other things – more important things – were.
    ‘Hello, Donal,’ Aidan said. ‘Make yourself at home.’
    One of Aidan’s guards moved hastily to slip a folded blanket on to the seat that Donal chose. It wouldn’t do for his wet and dirty trousers to defile one of his brother’s cushions.
    ‘What’s this about, Aidan?’ said Donal.
    ‘Where have you been?’ said Aidan. ‘I sent for you an hour ago.’
    ‘I’ve been up the hill, that’s all,’ said Donal.
    ‘Still going up the hill every day?’ said Aidan. ‘That’s loyalty for you.’
    Donal said nothing. An enamelled stove was kept lit in there day and night, and the place was so warm and dry that his clothes were already beginning to steam.
    ‘Have a drink?’ Aidan continued. It was a gesture of apparent generosity. Donal knew how fond his brother was of the poitín that his men made for him in the distillerybehind the castle. He also knew how short his supplies of it were, and the response Aidan required to his offer.
    ‘Bit early in the day for me,’ he said.
    ‘Pity,’ said Aidan. ‘But you won’t mind if I do, will you?’
    ‘Go ahead,’ said Donal.
    Aidan did, pouring a generous slosh of the clear liquor into a crystal sherry glass. ‘So,’ he said, ‘I just wanted an update on our supply situation. Anything come through from the other side yet?’
    ‘Not yet,’ said Donal. ‘We’re organizing another party to go through today. This time we’ll send four men over with them.’
    Aidan shook his head, and Donal saw his expression harden. It was a sign of approaching danger, and all too familiar to Donal. He had been exposed to these tantrums since Aidan was a toddler.
    ‘But it isn’t working, is it?’ he said.
    ‘Give it time,’ said Donal, hoping he sounded calmer than he felt.
    ‘How much time?’ said Aidan. ‘The first lot were sent through a month ago. What’s happened to them?’
    ‘You know how it is,’ said Donal. ‘I don’t have to explain to you about the way time works over there—’
    Aidan’s temper erupted. ‘No. You don’t have to explain it to me. I’ve been stuffed with the family stories of Tír na n’Óg since I was a toddler. And I’ve been brushing up on it as well.’ He gestured towards a stack of bookson the coffee table, and Donal saw that they were collections of Irish fairy stories. ‘Doing a bit of research. And I’m still not sure I believe a single word of it.’
    ‘You know it’s true,’ said Donal. ‘You know as well as I do.’
    ‘Well, where are the results, then? Where’s the proof ? Where are my raiding parties?’
    ‘You just need to be patient,’ said Donal. ‘It could be a good while before—’
    ‘A good while?’ said Aidan. ‘What is that supposed to mean, a good while? I don’t know why I ever let you talk me into this ridiculous scheme. As far as I can tell, it might be ten years before those idiots come back with any loot. Or it might be fifty! We’ll all be dead before we see anything coming out of that grimy hole!’
    ‘Calm down, Aidan,’ said Donal. The goons, sitting on guard in each of the four corners of the room, stirred in readiness for trouble. No one else in the world would be allowed to address the commander-in-chief in such a way. ‘You know that people don’t always think straight when they get into Tír na n’Óg. They might have forgotten what they went over for. But I told the last three lads to round up the other parties and bring them back, and I’ll tell the next lot—’
    Aidan shook his head. He emptied his glass and