Kenneth’s ship was in sight now, steadily sailing with the wind behind it, growing larger every moment. At last it was near enough for the tiny figures aboard to be seen. Neil looked at Fiona and noticed that though she sat very straight, she was constantly changing Moon-Metal’s reins from one hand to the other, constantly swallowing, wetting her lips, smoothing back the strands of red-gold curl that the sea wind was whipping into her face. Moon-Metal herself had caught something of her new rider’s nervousness and moved uneasily from foot to foot, occasionally tossing her head and pulling against the bit.
He looked at Mairi and she was sitting still, her gaze far away. She had not even noticed the approaching sail. He remembered that she believed that ‘her people’ had come from the far we
