by D. E. Morris
“You must be Mairead.”
The younger woman gave a slight bow of her head in greeting. “I am.”
“I am Rhiamon. No doubt you are wondering where Lilia is. Her quick journey up the mountain tired her out and she is resting, so I came to fetch you myself.” The woman's gaze upon her was unsettling even if it was meant to be warm. It was as though she was watching Mairead like she was a mother with her child, a sense of familiarity in her curved lips though they had just met. “I assure you that she is well cared for.” She turned around and said over her shoulder, “Follow me. I will take you to her.”
Mairead inhaled deeply, grasping for courage before she took a step forward.
“Derog,” Rhiamon called before she was too far away, “remember why you are here.”
The two young girls fell into step behind Rhiamon and the older woman continued on without so much as a glance back. Taking advantage of that fact, Mairead subtly extended her hand to the side, slipping the water skin back into Derog's fingers. He didn't move, but he glanced down at what she was giving him before thanking her with a tiny nod. “Obstinate,” he whispered. “That's what my name means.” She couldn't help but snicker as he folded the water skin into the sleeves of his robe. Hurrying, she left him behind to catch up with the other ladies and fell into step behind them.
It was hard not to feel overdressed, taking in the simple, elegant dresses worn by the women leading the way. They were just as Lilia had described them: flowing and free. Without sleeves on their gowns, Mairead could easily see the slashes of crimson that ran up the length of their arms, whether talon or crescent moon. Rhiamon had far more markings than the other two; both of her arms were decorated, the tattoos going so far up her arms that they curved back along her shoulder blades and disappeared under her dress.
“Ger fy mron.”
The girls split apart at the foreign command, their pace remaining the same while Rhiamon's slowed. As they took the lead, the older woman fell back to walk beside Mairead. Once more, she looked at her with that odd familiar smile that made her uncomfortable. “I hope you do not mind, but Lilia told me some of your story before I left her in my village. She said you were interested in me and my people because you were tired of living in isolation.”
Mairead nodded, watching her feet as she walked. This was what she had been trained to do, to mislead people in order to protect Ashlynn. While it wasn't exactly the same thing, it was still acting a part, and she knew she could do it. All it took was pretending to be the person she used to be, the person she was before Elas helped her find the bravery within herself to step out of her room and to take her life back. She had to pretend to be the victim.
“I come from a middle-class family. All my life I was told I was beautiful and that I would bring great honor to my parents by marrying a wealthy man and raising my family's station. It would give my sisters a better chance for a life of more luxury than that to which we were accustomed. When my carriage was attacked and I was left scarred and deformed, I was no longer the prized daughter. Thinking no one would want to marry me, I was sent to be a lady's maid where I have been kept for the past four years.” She took a shuddering breath. “Lilia is my only friend. When the lady of the house is not around, I am mocked until I have no other choice but to lock myself away and weep.”
Rhiamon put a gentle hand on her arm. “Was your life ever threatened?”
“Once or twice. Lilia told the mistress. She was kind to me.”
Removing her hand, Rhiamon bent to try to meet Mairead's eyes. It was only when Mairead realized what the older woman was doing that she finally looked at her and saw the sympathy on her face. “You do not have to feel isolated here, child. Your freedom starts now.” She called for the girls to stop, pausing where she was but never taking her eyes off of Mairead. “Remove your veil.”
Mairead glanced at the girls. Both of them watched with silent curiosity, but little else could be gleaned from their passive expressions. “I...I do not know if I can.”
“You will suffer no judgments here.” Rhiamon nodded her encouragement. “You can do it. Surely you must be warm.”
Careful not to smile at the comment, Mairead nodded as well. It was a hot day and in climbing a mountain trail, even one as easy as this, anyone would be more than warm with a swath of fabric wrapped around their head. She had already revealed herself to Derog. His reaction had been fairly close to what she'd been expecting given all Lilia had told her of these people. Now she would see just how true her assessment of Rhiamon was. Slow, she reached around the back of her head to undo the pins that were keeping the veil fastened. Her hair was revealed first as she pulled the veil forward, then the unmarked side of her face. When the fabric was fully away from her head, she wrapped the veil around her neck like a scarf as Badru suggested. She looked up at Rhiamon with reservation, but the darker woman only gazed back at her with a proud gleam in her eyes.
“How does that feel?”
“Freeing,” she admitted. “Vulnerable, though I suppose you cannot have one without the other.”
“Oh, my dear, that is where you are wrong. I have so much to teach you.” Rhiamon touched the veil with the tips of her fingers. “You should keep this even once your confidence grows. It is an important symbol of a time in your journey that must not be forgotten, but can be left behind.” She draped an arm around Mairead's shoulders and nodded to the girls. The party continued on once more, Rhiamon's fingers playing with some of Mairead's loose curls. “Your hair is so pretty. I have never seen a color quite this pure before, almost like spun gold.”
“Thank you.”
She looked down at Mairead's hands. “I can take your gloves as well, if you would like.”
Her fingers curled in automatic reflex. Her heart sped for fear of being found out by this woman so decorated by the death of her kindred. “No, thank you.” Her reply was weak and she prayed it was not pressed. She was going to have to be extra careful to keep her wits about her and to not let anyone see her skin, or she would be in very real danger.
Chapter Twenty-One
Though they'd already been there for several hours, Ashlynn was trying to take care of a few more things before sitting down with Misuzu and Tasarin. She wanted to have a clear head and to be able to focus, but her day had begun much the way it had the day before. With news pouring in of more hunting incidents across the country, she and Jaryn were divided, split between the things that needed their attention. He knew he needed to speak to her about the one thing he'd been putting off dealing with. He'd been doing all he could not to think about it himself, but as he tried to sleep the night before, all he could do was stare up at the ceiling and play everything over until he could take it no more. He had to get up after that, and Ashlynn ended up sleeping alone.
There would be no good time to tell her. All Jaryn knew was that it had to be done and the sooner the better.
He found her in the east wing with Killian and Wessely discussing a tortured drackling that had been found that morning. They were tucked into a small meeting room together and he would have missed them, had there not been guards posted outside.
“Despite the stance taken at the games,” Wessely was saying as Jaryn ducked into the room, stepping around and over the three dogs that still followed her, “it is almost as though these killings are being done in such a way as to intentionally go against the crown. Given the rate at which these deaths are piling up, you are well within your right to take it as a challenge to your call to protect and not to harm.”
“Which would mean sending men into every town and village across Siness,” Ashlynn complained.
Killian grimaced and regarded the room. “We are at the beginning of a war. Forgive my bluntness, but the word has been tossed around fairly casually in comparison for the past few weeks. I think it is time we accept it for what it is. Establishing a military presence will be expensive, yes, and you will have to raise taxes, but Altaine will not have to fund each company
of men on her own if we raise enough support. Are there any lesser kingdoms you know that you can fully trust?”
Jaryn and Ashlynn looked at each other, ticking off names and numbers in their heads. “I could name three right now,” Jaryn told him.
“Then put that trust to the test,” challenged Wessely. “By all means, send someone to each of those kingdoms for an in-person conversation; if they do not yet know how dire the situation is quickly becoming, they must know soon. But Killian is right, this is an area in which you must delegate. The kingdoms where you fear you cannot believe the claims of loyalty, that is where you leave your men and reestablish your stance. Show them how far the reach of Altaine extends and exactly how swift her justice when her laws are broken.”
Ashlynn fixed her father with a thankful stare. “This is why you are my chief adviser.”
“I feel it is also why I should be the one to lead the charge forward. I will take as many men as you wish to spare to those kingdoms in which you feel you should leave them.”
“You do have a way with words,” she agreed. “A caravan will make for a slow tour, however.”
Wessely shook his head. “No caravan, just horses. I used to be quite the rider in my day. My old bones may revolt against me before all is said and done, but it is far better for me to do something proactive than simply sit here and twiddle my thumbs.”
“Stop saying you're old,” Ashlynn grumbled. “You were younger than I am now when you took Kenayde and me in. Saying you're old makes me feel old and I am not old.”
He smirked. “No, darling, you are not.”
“Are you sure that you're feeling well enough for such an arduous journey?” Jaryn asked. “A hard ride might not be what your body needs after what it's just been through.”
“Kenayde has seen to my health. There is nothing to worry about.”
“I have one more thing to report if time allows,” Killian said. He looked from face to face and when no one tried to stop him, he continued. “An informant of mine returned to me with some disturbing information. A group of dracklings was spotted flying around the lower highland mountains in the early morning hours. Once word of this group spread to the nearby towns, a hunting party gathered with the sole purpose of collecting and killing them, as well as seeking out any adult dragons that might be nesting nearby. Among the group were two elves who survived the attack on Mirasean. Apparently, they have been sharing their knowledge of the pipes used against the dragons and the Gaels. They have aided in making their own crude versions to take with them, experimenting with tunes of their own. When the party found the drags, they played notes until they happened upon the right combination that put the animals into a trance.” He clenched his jaw and swallowed. “All of them were slaughtered.”
“When did this happen?” Jaryn asked.
“Yesterday. I only received the information a few hours ago, however, which means there has been ample time for the victory and its details to spread.”
“As well as the fact that there are specific ways to subdue dragons and Gaels.” Ashlynn swore and turned toward the window without really looking beyond the open shutters. “We need to hurry, then. More parties will organize themselves with this kind of knowledge at their disposal.”
Killian nodded. “All I will need is an estimate of how many men you will require and I will have horses made ready.”
Jaryn looked to Wessely, weary. “Can you take care of that?”
“Of course.”
“If I may,” said Cailin, sticking her head into the room before she was waved in by Ashlynn. “Tasarin and Misuzu are still waiting.”
“Well they will have to wait awhile longer,” Jaryn told her, thin impatience in his voice. “Before anything else pops up to demand our attention as it most assuredly will, I will kindly ask all of you to clear out so that I may speak to my wife.” Killian bowed before taking his leave. but Cailin and Wessely exchanged a quiet glance of surprise at the unusual gruffness coming from Jaryn before they, too, turned to go. “And take these bloody dogs with you, please.”
Wessely whistled and clicked his fingers, bringing the dogs to their feet. Though they ended up having to be led by their collars from the room, they did so without too much hassle and Jaryn closed the door behind them as soon as their tails were clear of the threshold.
“I know it seems they're always underfoot,” Ashlynn began, “but hopefully once Lochlainn comes home from Braemar-”
“Ashlynn, please stop talking.”
She froze, lips parted and her brows elevated.
“I don't care about the dogs; I don't care about anything else at the moment. I just need you to listen to me for a minute.”
Her stomach tightened. “Something tells me I should be sitting down.” Yet she didn't pull one of the high-backed chairs from the wall over to the table. She felt if she moved, she might somehow further unsettle her husband. “Yesterday you looked white as a sheet. When I awoke in the middle of the night you weren't in bed beside me, and today you're more haggard than a field mouse in winter. What can I do? Are you not feeling well?”
“I have been feeling quite ill since yesterday,” he croaked.
Finally moving, she pressed a hand to his forehead to check for a fever. “Let me send for someone, then. Let me send for Kenayde.”
Jaryn wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away with a shake of his head. “It isn't that kind of sickness.”
Something in the way he wouldn't meet her eyes made her pull her hand away and take a step back. That very action rounded Jaryn's shoulders and dropped his head even lower. “What is it?” she whispered. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
He drew in a slow, deep breath and tried to pull himself up to his normal height, mostly succeeding, but still unable to maintain eye contact for long. “The other night I came across Vala in a room by herself. I didn't know it was her at first, only that it was a young lady and she was clearly upset. I know I should have kept walking but instead I stepped inside to make sure she was all right.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I should have told you about this right away but then everything with the poison happened and there was no chance...it legitimately slipped my mind.”
“What happened?” Ashlynn asked again, her tone stronger and icier than before.
“She misconstrued my concern for something it wasn't and she kissed me. I shut it down right then and there and made it very clear that I was not in the market for any kind of mistress. She was deeply embarrassed and apologetic and...the entire thing was a big misunderstanding.”
Ashlynn stared at Jaryn for a long moment, her expression unreadable. When she blinked, she pressed her lips together and tilted her head in thought. “There's a moment, as a dragon, right before I let go of a belly full of fire, that I feel like I'm going to explode. As soon as I expel it, I feel my lungs deflating. I imagine you've felt something similar if you've taken a deep breath right before singing a long note.” Her blank expression turned into one of annoyance. “That is how I feel right now. You made me feel like you were about to tell me the worst thing in the world. I felt like my insides were on fire and I was going to explode.” Nervous laughter passed her lips. “Goodness, Jaryn. Of course I'm not thrilled with the situation. Vala has pushed her boundaries far more often than any of my other girls have, but it certainly isn't the end of the world, is it?” Seeing the drawn, haunted look still about him, she gave him a sympathetic smile. “If you've handled it, I promise not to even bring it up to her. If she doesn't get the message, however...”
Jaryn shook his head and swallowed. “No, love, there's more.” He appeared pained as he reached for her, taking both of her hands in his own and looking at them as though he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. “Once everyone was taken care of the night before last, what did you do?”
Her brows came together. “What did I do? I suspect I did what everyone else did and cleaned myself up, then helped out where I could and where I was needed
until most everyone was asleep and taken care of.”
“Did you have a conversation with Elas and me by the fire in the sitting room close to our quarters?”
Narrowing her eyes, she said, “No. I barely had time to sit and rest for five minutes, let alone have a full conversation with anyone.”
“And you slept in Lochlainn's room that night with both boys?”
The knot in her stomach that had unwound itself was quickly reforming. “Yes.”
Jaryn's tongue swept out to wet his lips. “Elas and I saw you that night. You were alone in the sitting room by the fire drinking tea, and we came and sat with you for a while. We talked about what had happened, about how at a loss all of us were. At one point you asked about progress being made on Oceana. After Elas left, you and I discussed...” He shook his head, disgust on his face. “We talked about things I would only talk about with you, like the pages with the runes, and what would happen to you and Lochlainn during and after your purge.”
“Jaryn, what are you talking about?”
“We spent the night together, Ashlynn. We found comfort in one another as husband and wife. I left you in the sitting room to go to our room because you said you wanted to check on your father one more time. You joined me a little while later and you were with me the entire night.”
“What?” She felt like time had stopped and was spinning too quickly around her all at once. Did these incidents happen on two separate nights and both of them were simply so overwhelmed and overtired that they were getting things mixed up? But then, she couldn't recall a time since they'd been home that it had been peaceful enough to sit and enjoy a quiet conversation with Jaryn and her brother-in-law. “I never came to bed,” she whispered, hearing what her husband was telling her without him having to say the words. She lifted her eyes to his face in a mixture of shock and horror, repeating the words a little louder. “Jaryn, I never came to bed that night.”