Chapter 31
C omgall sat in the hall, staring out at the sea of people who’d come to him with one complaint or another. He’d only been back in Dunadd for half a day at most, but already his time with Bethany seemed like a distant dream. He tried to focus on the complaint currently being presented to him - something about a stolen boat - but his attention kept drifting. Would he ever see Bethany again?
The hall doors burst open. Ciaran came striding in, people scattering out of his way as he cut a path straight down the centre of the hall. Everyone turned to look at him. As silence fell, Ciaran slowed his pace a little, but he still moved urgently towards Comgall. He pushed petitioners out of his way, and bounded up the steps to stand beside the throne. Bending down, he leaned close to Comgall’s ear.
“I just saw Bethany here in Dunadd,” he whispered. “And I fear she is in trouble of some kind.”
Alarm shot straight through to Comgall’s heart. He jumped to his feet .
“Where?” he demanded. “Take me there.”
He and Ciaran rushed to the point where Ciaran had last seen Bethany, near the summit of the hillfort. But she was nowhere to be seen.
“Have you seen a dark-haired woman?” Ciaran asked the nearest people. They just shrugged, looking confused.
Then Comgall heard a woman’s voice shout something in a language he did not understand. The sound came from the inauguration site. He burst into the tent, drawing his sword as he ran. His sudden entrance startled a tall man who was holding a knife to Bethany’s throat.
It was Bethany who reacted first. She whirled around and sent the man flying forwards in some kind of martial arts throw. Comgall watched her, utterly astounded. Then he noticed Dubnus - and realised that the priest was holding Matthew. Fury filled him. After all that Dubnus had done to hurt Bethany, how dare he lay hands on her son!
Comgall lunged forwards with an angry roar. Dubnus stumbled backwards, and in that split second Matthew darted away, running for his mother. But the strange man chose that moment to jump at Bethany with his knife. Comgall was too far away to reach her.
She reacted even faster than she had before. In a strange twisting motion, she grabbed Dubnus and spun him around. The knife sliced into his arm and he roared with pain. He slipped on the rough ground. And then he fell - hard. His head cracked against the footprint rock.
The world went utterly mad. The small tent filled with rushing, whirling red spirals and a strange sweet scent, pungent and powerful. Comgall gripped at his suddenly queasy stomach. The other man screamed something unintelligible. Then he stretched out his leg to place his foot in the carved footprint - and vanished. The strange swirling sensation died down in a matter of seconds, and the smell faded. The world seemed back to normal.
Comgall, panting hard, turned to stare at Bethany. She was crouched on the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around Matthew, pulling his head against her chest. Gradually, she straightened up, although Matthew still clung to her legs. She stared directly into Comgall’s eyes.
“Thank you,” she said. “You saved me. And, for the third time, you saved my son.”