tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance

by Christine Pope

  “No,” he said at once. “I have already told you that. It is something he has done every year for the past decade. At first, he was able to perform the spell on young women who lived near the estate — daughters of farmers and cottagers, that sort of thing. There must always be at least three. Four is better, and five the most desired, but harder to come by. He could not use the same girls year after year, for they must be between fifteen and twenty, and as you know, young women grow up and get married, and move away.” Reynar’s fingers tightened on mine, as if he wished to give me more reassurance. “The light you saw dancing around them — that was the energy he was drawing forth and collecting so he might bring it into himself. But your cousins, or any of the girls he had taken it from, would not notice it gone, any more than you might miss the few strands that remain in your hairbrush each morning.”

  That explanation did reassure me somewhat. I had not noted any ill effects of the spell, save that Janessa and my cousins seemed rather tired the morning after one of their outings. And who could blame them, when they had lost several hours of sleep? But if that was the only harm they suffered….

  “Very well,” I said. “It is done, and my cousins and Janessa are safe now. But what should we do?” I asked, hating how hopeless I sounded, but unable to do much of anything about it.

  Reynar bent and kissed me on the forehead, very gently, and then let go of my hands. “I am not sure yet. But we have time — your wedding will not take place until three days from now, and within that span, I am sure an opportunity will arise for me to get you away from here. Now, however, I fear I must go. My spells must be doubly strong when cast here in my master’s stronghold, and I cannot maintain them indefinitely.”

  “No, please — ” For I thought I should go mad to be left here alone, knowing what I knew now.

  “My dear, I must.” He kissed me again, this time on the mouth, the taste of him sweet and warm. I reached up and seized his hands, and attempted to pull him toward me.

  But he was too strong. He remained standing where he was, his face a pale mask, one taut with worry and fear.

  “Do not tempt me, Iselda. You have no idea — ” He broke off his words there, his jaw clenching. “If I am caught, I can do nothing to help you. Do you understand?”

  Of course I did. I released his arms, and slumped once more against the pillows. “I understand, Reynar. I do not wish to jeopardize you in any way. But perhaps — ” I sat up a little straighter as a sudden thought occurred to me. “What if I speak to Lord Mayson? His father cannot hold sway over him at all times. I have seen it, I think — when Lord Elwyn’s control begins to slip, and Mayson appears confused, or not sure precisely what is happening. If I could wait for one of those moments — ”

  “It is far too dangerous,” Reynar cut in. “For when my master has control of his son’s mind, he can see everything he sees, hear everything he hears. He would guess at once that you know far more than you should. Do you understand why you must say nothing?”

  Damn. Even though these latter-day mages were not as powerful as their counterparts of long ago, clearly they were still a force to be reckoned with. Things would have been so much easier if I could have enlisted Mayson’s help during one of his lucid moments.

  But it seemed that was not possible, and so I murmured, “Yes, Reynar. I understand.”

  His mouth twisted, and then he bent and kissed me again, but so swiftly that I did not have time to respond. And as he stood up straight, his appearance shifted to that of a man some ten years older, bigger and broader, with heavy dark hair and a nose that appeared to have been broken several times. He wore the green and gold uniform of one of the household guards, a short sword at his belt. A quick smile, one that showed off crooked white teeth, and then he was hurrying out the door. It shut behind him, and I was alone.

  Alone, and afraid, for I did not share Reynar’s confidence.

  I very much feared we would not be able to devise a plan in the limited time we had left.

  * * *

  Sleep eventually did come to me, although I tossed and turned for nearly an hour after Reynar had departed. Tarly cast a critical eye at me when she appeared with my morning tea but said nothing. Perhaps she thought it normal enough for me to have had a restless night, since it was my first time in this new place.

  Instead, she bustled about, telling me what a lovely welcome she had had from the other servants, and how the kitchen staff had been so helpful in making up my tea that morning. I listened to her chatter, and smiled and nodded at what I hoped were the appropriate intervals. Part of me wished very much that everything was as normal as she made it sound, but I knew better. I did wonder how the prosaic Tarly would react if I told her the lord of this castle was no mere nobleman, but a mage who wielded strange and fearsome powers.

  Knowing my maidservant, I rather thought she would probably laugh outright and then tell me I needed to make sure I got my rest, as lack of sleep was clearly giving me strange notions.

  So I said nothing, and listened with some relief as she informed me that Lord Elwyn and Lord Mayson intended to ride the estate this morning before it got too warm, and so my breakfast would be brought up to me. That reprieve gave me some much-needed breathing space, although I knew I could not avoid father and son forever. I was sure they would expect me to sit down with them this evening. Could I hide my newly acquired knowledge from them? I supposed I would have to, or else all would certainly be lost.

  Tarly left me for a time so she might fetch up my breakfast, and I went to the window and looked out. The morning appeared quite fine from my vantage point up here in the tower; the sun shone down, clear and golden, illuminating the gardens that surrounded the castle, and the fields which lay beyond. Past all of the cultivated land was the dark blur of Daleskeld Forest, which followed the path of the stream and created the northeast border of Lord Elwyn’s lands. Here, the woods were much closer than they had been to my uncle’s property. Perhaps it was somewhere within those dark stands of pine and fir and oak that the place where Reynar dwelt was hidden. He had never said exactly where he lived, only that it most certainly was not here with Lord Elwyn and his son. The forest made sense to me, for Reynar could travel within it and not be easily seen, and I thought it would probably be easy enough to conceal some kind of dwelling there as well.

  I saw a pair of riders moving down a lane which separated two of the fields, and realized those riders must be Lord Elwyn and his son. Did Mayson have any idea of the sway his father exerted over him? Were those brief moments when he was in control of himself the times that felt like a dream?

  A shiver went over me as I recalled what Reynar had told me the night before, that when Mayson was in the grip of one of his father’s spells, then Lord Elwyn could see and hear everything his son saw and heard. Which meant he must have seen his son kissing me.

  Had he felt that as well?

  My stomach lurched, and I hurried back over to the table where Tarly had set down my tea, so I might take a few sips and, I hoped, calm the nausea that had begun to rise in me. As repulsive as the thought might be, I could not let the knowledge that Lord Elwyn might have seen all of my dealings with Mayson upset me too much, for then I ran the risk of not thinking clearly when the time came.

  Tarly returned a few moments later, carrying a tray with fresh bread and butter and raspberry preserves, and a slice of the egg and cheese pie I loved so much. Had Mayson requested that I have such a meal for my first morning here because it was comforting and familiar…or had Lord Elwyn known already?

  I grabbed my teacup and drained it, then filled it again. My maid sent me an inquiring glance.

  “Are you quite well, my lady? You are looking very pale.”

  “I’m fine,” I responded quickly. “I suppose I am only still rather weary.”

  “Well, breakfast should mend that, I suppose. And if you wish, I can have word sent to their lordships that you are tired from the journey, and would prefer to be quiet in y
our chamber today.”

  Oh, bless Tarly! And Aunt Lyselle, for having the forethought to understand that I would need my maid’s steadying presence in a new place. “That would be wonderful, Tarly,” I said. “I do think I would fare better if I were to have some quiet time to myself.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. I know that the seamstress was coming up to see you later this morning, but I can try to put her off — ”

  “No, that’s fine,” I cut in. While Lord Elwyn and his son might not press me too hard about wanting to remain in my room today, I knew if I did anything that made it seem as if I were attempting to postpone the wedding, they might intercede. Better to appear that I was eager to marry Mayson, although now that I knew the real reason behind his ardor, I felt as if I wanted to be sick again. “I am quite well enough to manage the seamstress.”

  “If you wish, my lady,” Tarly replied. Her voice was neutral enough, but I thought I detected a note of relief in her tone. It seemed that was one battle she had no particular wish to fight, either.

  So I ate my breakfast, forcing down every bite, since my appetite had quite deserted me. As I ate, Tarly laid out my clothes for the day, and when I was done, she helped me out of my nightgown and into the dress she had selected for me, the green silk that I did not much care for, but was certainly fine enough for my role as Lord Mayson’s affianced bride.

  After that she took the breakfast dishes away, and I was left to my own devices for a time. I had brought several of my books with me, and I had thought to read to pass some of the time, but I could not seem to concentrate, my thoughts jumping this way and that. In the end, I laid down the book and again took up my post by the window. No sign of either father or son, unfortunately; I wondered what they were doing in that moment. Did Lord Elwyn have to keep Mayson close by, in order to maintain control?

  No, that didn’t sound right, for clearly Mayson had been under that dark spell’s sway even when his father was miles away from my uncle’s estate. I had a notion, however, that the spell had to be refreshed from time to time, which would explain why Lord Elwyn had unexpectedly come to dinner that one night not so long ago.

  Which again led to the central conundrum of the whole affair. Why on earth had Lord Elwyn determined that I should be the one to become his son’s wife? I could not flatter myself that there was anything particularly outstanding about my person. A pretty face, perhaps, but there were many more of those to be had, and plenty among the nobility as well. Possibly fewer who were not already betrothed, but….

  My musings were interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Tarly’s voice. “My lady? The seamstress is here, and her assistant.”

  “Come in,” I said, and turned away from the window. I would find no answers in the view outside, and I knew I must pretend to be engaged in the activities of the next hour or so, unless someone might begin to guess that I had no wish to be Lord Mayson’s wife.

  The seamstress was a tall, commanding woman of late middle age, with grey-streaked dark hair and an expression that did not invite commentary. Her assistant was perhaps a few years younger, but quiet and cowed. She curtseyed to me and seemed to do little of her own volition after that, for her mistress made sure she was continuously occupied.

  “Darhynne, bring me that golden trim. No, the one with the pearls. The pink pearls,” added in tones that seemed to imply the other woman was a fool for not knowing immediately which pearl-encrusted trim the seamstress had demanded.

  I said nothing, but stood in place as my wedding gown was dropped over my head and pulled this way and that to ensure the best fit. Strangely, the dress was already made, and only needed to be altered, and the trim traded for the one Mistress Allynde, the seamstress, had determined would suit my coloring better. The gown itself was of a soft ivory silk, shot with pink and blue, rather like the inside of a seashell.

  My curiosity overcame me, and I found myself emboldened enough to inquire, “Whence came this gown? For it seems as if it was made for someone else.”

  “That it was,” Mistress Allynde returned as she fussed with the hem. “For Lord Mayson’s betrothed. But she has no need of it now, poor girl.”

  “But…wouldn’t the gown have been with that other girl’s family?” I could see no reason why it would be here at Bellender Rise, as it was the responsibility of the bride’s family to supply her wedding dress.

  “So it was, but Lord Elwyn had it sent for,” the seamstress replied. From the set of her mouth, I could tell she had little wish to answer any more of my questions.

  It seemed very strange to me that a family mourning the loss of their daughter would be eager to hand over the gown she should have been married in, especially to have that gown worn by their daughter’s replacement. But then I thought, Yes, it is odd…but Lord Elwyn has the ability to make others do as he bids them. I have no doubt that poor girl’s family sent it over without even thinking twice about it, for his lordship would have cast a spell to make them think that nothing about the situation was extraordinary at all.

  After that, I fell silent, and let the two women work on the dress. During that time, I could feel Tarly’s eyes upon me, could tell that she also thought something was very strange about the situation, although of course she would not comment with the seamstresses there. I prayed she would leave the subject alone even after they left, for I did not dare tell her the truth that lay behind my sudden engagement to Lord Mayson. I would not put her in such peril.

  As luck would have it, almost as soon as they had departed, another servant appeared, saying that his lordship wished to speak to me. So much for allowing me to stay quietly in my room. As I knew I could not demur, I nodded and said, “Will you take me to him?”

  “Yes, my lady,” the maidservant responded. She looked to be only a year or so older than I, with impish hazel eyes and a cloud of curly brown hair. Surely she could have no idea as to what a villain the lord of the castle truly was.

  But as I did not dare tell her the truth, I merely thanked her, and allowed her to lead me from my room and down to the ground floor. She did not take me to the study where I had met with Lord Elwyn the night before, nor to any of the other rooms on that level. Instead, we traversed the long corridor, and at length came to a pair of double doors that opened out onto a loggia with grey flagstones on the ground. What caught my breath, though, were the evenly spaced pillars that held up the roof, and how they were all covered with flowering vines I did not recognize, with pale yellow and pink blooms that lent an intoxicating fragrance to the air. The space was cool, shaded as it was from the sun, and a welcome respite from the warm weather we’d been having.

  Lord Mayson stood by one of those pillars, looking down into the gardens below. As soon as he heard us arrive, however, he turned and smiled at me.

  “Ah, Iselda,” he said, and held out his hands.

  All I could do was cross the space between us, and let him take my fingers in his. Immediately afterward, I heard the soft thump of the maid closing the door behind her. I wished I could pull my hand from Mayson’s now that we no longer had an audience, but I knew I had to be cautious.

  “Mayson,” I replied. Wishing to speak of something neutral, I added, “This is a very lovely spot.”

  “I am glad you like it. I had thought you might prefer someplace cooler and more comfortable. Would you like to sit?”

  For the first time I noticed that a carved stone bench stood only a few feet off to his left. Since I knew I could not refuse, I nodded and took my seat there, feeling the cold stone even through the layers of my skirts and petticoats. Or perhaps that chill had come from within.

  I cast an oblique glance at Mayson through my eyelashes as he settled himself next to me on the bench. His expression was open and friendly, and seemed no different from the man I had first met at my uncle’s home. But how was I to know who the real Mayson Bellender even was? Perhaps I had never seen anything of him, only a puppet controlled by his father.

  “Are you settl
ing in well?” he asked.

  “Yes, very much so. The view from my room is quite lovely.”

  “And you enjoyed your breakfast?”

  “Yes. It was kind of you to have my favorites sent up.”

  For just the briefest second, I saw that same flicker of confusion in his dark eyes, the one I had noticed several times previously. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it, but now I realized those odd flashes of befuddlement must have been caused by his waking slightly from his father’s spell.

  If he was having one of those moments now….

  I hesitated. If I said the wrong thing now, then I would let Mayson — and by extension, Lord Elwyn — know that I had guessed something very strange was occurring here. But if the spell had begun to slip, and if I could somehow let Mayson see what had been done to him, then perhaps I could convince him to let me go. After all, Reynar had admitted that Mayson did not wish to marry at all. If he woke up to himself, he would have no reason to do anything else. He did not love me.

  I would be free.

  “Oh, yes,” he said then, speaking quickly as if to cover his hesitation, “I did want you to feel at home your first morning here. I know how much you enjoy a nicely grilled ham steak.”

  There it was. He could not remember what I liked, because most of the time we had spent together, he had been controlled by his father. “Actually, it was egg and cheese pie,” I pointed out.

  His expression fell, and he frowned, fine features twisting as he attempted to reconcile what he thought he knew with what he’d actually experienced. “I — ”

  “It’s all right,” I said, my tone gentle. I would have to be very cautious here, for I did not know for certain why the spell would be slipping now. Perhaps Lord Elwyn had wished to relax his hold on his son now that he thought our marriage to be a certainty. If that was the case, then I could not bear to let this moment pass without attempting to reach out to the true Mayson Bellender. “Do you — do you feel confused like this often?”