unfairly maligned. But Adom was still uneasy.
‘If only there were some sort of test…’ he murmured, biting his lip anxiously.
Then he noticed something that had in fact been niggling for his attention for some time. It was music – pipes, and people singing – and it was coming from the settlement further up the hill.
‘That’s it!’ he exclaimed, jumping up. ‘The people are gathering for the Holy Father to bless them and heal their sick. And since everyone knows a demon cannot bear a blessing, that’s what we’re going to do.’
‘What?’
‘Come on!’
As they came to the edge of the clearing, however, Adom paused. He looked out at the settlement, less sure now.
If they were demons, should he be leading them straight into a group of unsuspecting folk?
Hurple seemed to guess his thoughts.
‘We’re hardly going to do anything hellish in full view, at midday, surrounded by a gaggle of holy men, now are we?’ he said reasonably. ‘To be properly eldritch we’dhave to wait till after sundown and, oh, I don’t know, pick you off one at a time, probably.’ All the time he was speaking, the smells from the cooking fires were drifting tantalizingly past his nose. That rabbit in the warren seemed a long time ago now…
‘Come on – I’m starving!’ said Eo. ‘Is there time to eat before we get desecrated?’
‘Blessed !’ said Hurple and Adom in chorus.
Eo shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ he said. ‘Is there?’
And suddenly Adom was hungry too.
‘Come on, then,’ he said with a shrug, and led the way.
The people were still gathering. The ones bringing sick and injured with them came last of all, having to travel slowly and with care. The Bard’s people and the monks moved about among the crowd, greeting and making welcoming gestures towards the cooking fires. A piper was playing a tune that Adom knew from home, at least he was until Brother Drostlin fussed over and made him stop.
Too vulgar for such a holy occasion , Adom mimicked the monk sourly in his mind.
Eo’s sky-coloured eyes were wide with curiosity. He was taking in the scene with great concentration and enthusiasm.
‘Maybe we could get your lot to convert the Kelpies,’ he suggested suddenly.
‘Don’t be daft. You don’t convert demons – you kill them!’ Adom scoffed. Then he stopped, uncomfortable at the thought that it might be a demon he was speaking to. The idea of Eo and the talking ferret having to be killed was becoming more and more… unthinkable.
Suddenly he straightened up. ‘There he is!’ he said in a low voice. ‘Columba!’
Eo and Hurple looked about expectantly.
‘Where? Which one is he?’
There !’ Adom pointed, amazed that they had to be told. The Holy Father was a head taller at least than the men around him, but even without his height he stood out in any crowd. Adom wondered why they couldn’t see it. ‘Over there!’
There was a short, appalled silence. Then, ‘But…’ said Eo, ‘he’s old! ’
‘There’s irony for you,’ murmured Hurple. ‘She was so close , our Gladrag, not more than, what, ten years too late.’
‘What are you talking about? What’s a Gladrag?’ said Adom.
‘Hibernation Gladrag is the Head of the G – that’s Eo’s people, remember? She will have had first turn to throw the Traveller, and she evidently tried to fling us to the time of the great Columba, who, as we all know – ’ and he looked down his snout meaningfully at Eo – ‘is one of history’s most renowned Kelpie-killers. Only problem is, she flung us just a bit too far. We’ve missed Columba the Warrior of God and instead we just have Columba the Old Man.’
Adom was shocked right down to his sandals. Were they really turning their noses up at a saint?! Did that mean they were demons, after all?
‘What are we supposed to do now ?!’ said Eo. ‘If the old man can’t help…’
‘Well, he can’t fight , that’s obvious, but maybe he can give us some advice…’
‘Look, I
‘If only there were some sort of test…’ he murmured, biting his lip anxiously.
Then he noticed something that had in fact been niggling for his attention for some time. It was music – pipes, and people singing – and it was coming from the settlement further up the hill.
‘That’s it!’ he exclaimed, jumping up. ‘The people are gathering for the Holy Father to bless them and heal their sick. And since everyone knows a demon cannot bear a blessing, that’s what we’re going to do.’
‘What?’
‘Come on!’
As they came to the edge of the clearing, however, Adom paused. He looked out at the settlement, less sure now.
If they were demons, should he be leading them straight into a group of unsuspecting folk?
Hurple seemed to guess his thoughts.
‘We’re hardly going to do anything hellish in full view, at midday, surrounded by a gaggle of holy men, now are we?’ he said reasonably. ‘To be properly eldritch we’dhave to wait till after sundown and, oh, I don’t know, pick you off one at a time, probably.’ All the time he was speaking, the smells from the cooking fires were drifting tantalizingly past his nose. That rabbit in the warren seemed a long time ago now…
‘Come on – I’m starving!’ said Eo. ‘Is there time to eat before we get desecrated?’
‘Blessed !’ said Hurple and Adom in chorus.
Eo shrugged. ‘Whatever,’ he said. ‘Is there?’
And suddenly Adom was hungry too.
‘Come on, then,’ he said with a shrug, and led the way.
The people were still gathering. The ones bringing sick and injured with them came last of all, having to travel slowly and with care. The Bard’s people and the monks moved about among the crowd, greeting and making welcoming gestures towards the cooking fires. A piper was playing a tune that Adom knew from home, at least he was until Brother Drostlin fussed over and made him stop.
Too vulgar for such a holy occasion , Adom mimicked the monk sourly in his mind.
Eo’s sky-coloured eyes were wide with curiosity. He was taking in the scene with great concentration and enthusiasm.
‘Maybe we could get your lot to convert the Kelpies,’ he suggested suddenly.
‘Don’t be daft. You don’t convert demons – you kill them!’ Adom scoffed. Then he stopped, uncomfortable at the thought that it might be a demon he was speaking to. The idea of Eo and the talking ferret having to be killed was becoming more and more… unthinkable.
Suddenly he straightened up. ‘There he is!’ he said in a low voice. ‘Columba!’
Eo and Hurple looked about expectantly.
‘Where? Which one is he?’
There !’ Adom pointed, amazed that they had to be told. The Holy Father was a head taller at least than the men around him, but even without his height he stood out in any crowd. Adom wondered why they couldn’t see it. ‘Over there!’
There was a short, appalled silence. Then, ‘But…’ said Eo, ‘he’s old! ’
‘There’s irony for you,’ murmured Hurple. ‘She was so close , our Gladrag, not more than, what, ten years too late.’
‘What are you talking about? What’s a Gladrag?’ said Adom.
‘Hibernation Gladrag is the Head of the G – that’s Eo’s people, remember? She will have had first turn to throw the Traveller, and she evidently tried to fling us to the time of the great Columba, who, as we all know – ’ and he looked down his snout meaningfully at Eo – ‘is one of history’s most renowned Kelpie-killers. Only problem is, she flung us just a bit too far. We’ve missed Columba the Warrior of God and instead we just have Columba the Old Man.’
Adom was shocked right down to his sandals. Were they really turning their noses up at a saint?! Did that mean they were demons, after all?
‘What are we supposed to do now ?!’ said Eo. ‘If the old man can’t help…’
‘Well, he can’t fight , that’s obvious, but maybe he can give us some advice…’
‘Look, I
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