“Strange isn't it?” Morgan agreed. “Yet, he prevented what could have been an ugly scene between her and Laelan – although I suspect it was more to make Liath look like a fool, than any sort of gallantry on his part. Anyway, you know how the islanders feel about anyone from Ky's homeland. It's surprising they've all kept in control of themselves.”
“Life's never dull, is it Morgan, especially not with people like your two brothers and Bal around, and now your seer,” the brigand lord said.
“No,” he sighed, “Ky'll be please to see you again, Hurral. However, it would be best if you stayed out of sight in Conna's rooms.”
“Won't that inconvenience the lad – or his love?”
“As far as I know, the only bed Liath goes to is her own. As for what remains of tonight – would you accept my hospitality, Lord Ben-al?” Morgan smiled.
“It would be my pleasure,” Hurral replied, inclining his head.
Chapter 19 – One Returns, One Goes
Druin entered the city quietly, like a fish slipping through water.
No one knew exactly where he'd been; even Morgan could only guess, and no one, save the Goddess herself, knew exactly when he'd return. Although he was Head of the Healers, Druin had deep interests in the other orders. At times, he seemed to be an almost magical mixture of all seven of them.
There was often a smile on his lips, but nearly as often, a faraway look in his eyes. It was said he knew every plant, herb, root and tree in Anraun, every property of the soil and water beneath his feet, and of the passage of every star above his head.
The healer attributed this more to the flowing verse of a certain harper, rather than his own skill and knowledge. He was one of the few who did.
So he made his calm way through the city, keeping concealed the feelings of discomfort that had been growing in him since the visit to Thesa. He paused now and then to speak with a friend or acquaintance, stopping once to purchase an item from a well-known silversmith before finally riding into the courtyard of the Great Hall. He handed the reins of his horse to a stable-lad, then raised his eyebrows at the tall, black dressed girl waiting at the top of the three shallow steps to the hall doors.
“So, you found your way to Delgannan after all,” Druin said, voice deep and gentle, as Liath walked down to meet him.
“You knew I would,” she replied, looking into his slate-grey eyes.
“Yes, I suppose I did,” he sighed, and smiled his deep love for the wayward seer.
She smiled back, then suddenly threw her arms around the tall spare man and hugged him tightly. Druin stroked her hair and rested his cheek against her head, a faint frown replacing the smile. He could feel his daughter's disturbed and turbulent emotions, threatening to burst free, and could sense the same profound and growing unease in her that was in himself. Later, he would see what they both could make of it, but before that, he had other things to attend to.
Druin raised his head and looked up at the hall again. Morgan was standing where Liath had been, watching them with a thoughtful expression on his handsome face. He came slowly down the steps, waiting until she moved back from her father, then he stepped forward and embraced the healer.
“I'm glad you're back, Druin–you choose the most awkward times to disappear.”
“You can handle Rainard,” Druin replied with utmost certainty. “And there is always Avane, and the council of advisors.”
“Avane's worth the entire council,” Morgan stated.
Druin tutted. “They may be a little set in their ways, but they're all good men. Having a young seer suddenly appear at court can't have made life easier for them. By the way, is Hurral still here?”
“Yes. But he leaves in less than an hour. He's in Conna's rooms, if you want to talk to him.”
The healer nodded and took a step towards the doors.
“Father!”
He stopped and looked at Liath, knowing what she was going to ask.
“Please...”
“Liath, you know I can't,” he said softly.
“But you, of all...”
“No.”
“Why not!” she snapped angrily.
“Morgan, perhaps you could keep Liath company until I've spoken to Hurral,” the healer suggested, then started off towards the hall.
“Druin!” Liath's voice cracked out like the lash of a whip. Morgan's head jerked around to her. Druin stopped and slowly turned, a look of mild surprise on his face. “I need your help,” she almost pleaded.
“And I will give what help I can, daughter, but I cannot condone what you wish,” he stated in a voice which brooked no argument.
Liath spun on her heel and stormed off across the courtyard, braid bouncing against her back, fists clenched at her sides.
“Children,” Druin muttered, and carried on his way into the hall. Morgan watched him go, aware of, and surprised at, the power he’d felt between father and daughter. Then he shrugged, and followed the seer into the gardens. He found her at the end of a tiny secluded grove. When he saw what she was doing, he stopped in mid-stride.
Her hands were held up in front of her – a spider-web of fire was strung between her fingers. In the centre of the web was a growing ball of flame. She stared blankly at him, and shaped the fire into a spear.
“Liath...” he whispered, too surprised to say or do more.
She raised the flaming spear in one hand, aiming it at the man. Then she suddenly whirled round and hurled it high into the clear blue sky. There was a tremendous clap of thunder and the spear flared into a blinding flash of light.
Morgan let his breath out, unaware he'd been holding it, and blinked away the after-image. Then, he walked slowly towards Liath as she stood with her back to him, still looking up.
“Lee?” He halted a step away.
“That was my hate and anger,” she sighed, then straightened her shoulders. “The woman who is destined be your wife is from the far south of Anraun, I think. I can see you together beside a crystal lake; there’s nothing like that north of Thesa. She’s an exotic, golden skinned woman with strange eyes.. I can feel the love you have for each other. You have to find her, otherwise you will never marry.”
Morgan stared at the back of her head, speechless. “How...do you know?” he asked eventually.
“How do you think I know?” she responded bleakly.
“But, Annushi couldn't see, how could you? I thought this dark thing was impenetrable.”
“I see you both before the darkness touches my time-line,” Liath replied tonelessly, not mentioning it also touched the High Lord and the lady.
“You're certain this southern woman is to be my wife?” Morgan asked, bemused by Liath's information, taken aback by the display and admission of anger and hate.
“Yes!”
He turned slowly and began to walk down the path out of the grove. As he went, a soft rain started to fall out of the clear evening sky. Liath tilted her head back, letting the rain dampen her face.
“And this is my sorrow, Morgan. Damn you, man!”
Druin, having spoken to Ben-al, walked along the corridor to his daughter's room, found the door open to him and Liath waiting beside the window.
“I love Morgan,” she said in a soft, sad voice as he closed the door and came to stand at her side. “And I've just told him where he will find his wife.”
“You should never have come here, Liath. Morgan should have known better than to invite you. And I should have known and warned you of the way some people still feel about Akashiians.”
The girl carried on as if she'd never heard. “I love Conna too; he's like a brother, as close to me now as any of the seers – we spend hours talking. He thought I'd fallen for Rainard's son, Laelan, but that's sorted out now,” she looked at her father. “D'you know I killed a man?”
“Yes. I heard. And also that it was done in self-defense. In your place, I would have acted in exactly the same way.”
“Morgan said you would. I asked the Goddess
for forgiveness. I think she understands. Why won't you help me, Father, why won't you give me some potion to stop the dreams, to stop me seeing? The blackness frightens me. I'll die because of it.”
“No you won't, so don't talk like that. But I can't cut one of your senses off, child,” Druin said gently, “any more than I can change your beautiful eyes or the identity of your mother. And you're not the only one who feels this dark presence. Even though I can't see it, I know it's there. There are others, too, who sense it. A way is opening, Liath. A...” he sighed and shook his head. “I can't define the feelings. Anyway, you must return to the Temple soon.”
“I know,” she said as the gentle rain misted over the hall. “I don't feel comfortable here anymore.”
***
Morgan sent a servant to find Liath – or at least to find someone who knew where she was. The seer had hardly been seen since Druin's return, taking meals in her room, or skipping them altogether, even using the back stairs whenever she wanted to leave the hall. While he was grateful in one respect for her avoidance of the islanders, he had the strong suspicion she was avoiding him too. He did know that Conna was with her more than anyone else, except perhaps Balin, and that fewer practical jokes were being played. But he had no idea what the two discussed to all hours of the day and night.
Still, working with a known criminal against guests in his hall, was not a thing even the High Lord could do openly and with impunity. Not and entertain those visitors at the same time without arousing their suspicions. Conna's birthday was almost upon them, he had a wife to claim, the land to rule – Morgan felt as though he was spread very thinly at the moment.
Half an hour later he stood at the window of his bedroom, looking down into the courtyard, still waiting. Rainard and Laelan were standing over at the far side talking to the captain of the Yrloch flag-ship. All three men seemed agitated, although Rainard appeared to conceal his concern better than the other two. Morgan had a good idea what they were discussing – the sudden devastating attacks by a certain outlaw on small bands of travelers heading towards the capital. He turned away and sat on the edge of the table. Rainard would never attempt to take Delgannan now that Hurral and his 'brigands' had almost halved the island lord's men. And Morgan's own fleet was waiting out of sight to surround Rainard's much smaller one.
Reaching down, he opened a drawer beneath the table-top and pulled out a rolled map. Spreading it out, he studied the chart, forefinger following an imaginary route down through Anraun to the southern coast. From there, it was a long way over-sea to the next land-mass, to where Hurral's forefathers had originated, where distant relatives of his still lived.
Letting the map roll up again, he strode out of his bedroom to the door of his apartment, and shouted out for Conna. A servant heard and hurried down into the hall to tell the young lord his brother wished to see him.
“Where the hell's Liath?” Morgan demanded as soon as Conna set foot inside the room. His tone of voice struck anger in the younger lord.
“Why do you ask – haven't you got enough from her already!” he countered accusingly.
“Listen to me, young man, I didn't ask her to do that, she suddenly told me, out of the blue. I've never asked her anything about my personal future, only Rainard's plans!”
“Well you seem to be making good use of all the things she's told you. Do you realize that if it hadn't have been for her – you might have actually had to do something more strenuous than laying some woman for a change!” Conna snapped.
“Just what exactly do you mean by that!”
“You know what I mean! She's staying here, a place she doesn't really want to be, 'seeing things which frighten her, being in physical danger – and all without a word of thanks! Do you realize how unhappy she is! Not even Druin will help her!”
“So you've spent these last few days and nights comforting her!” Morgan said, smiling coldly.
Conna stepped forward, eyes hot and narrow, “It's not like that. And even if it were, it'd be none of your concern!”
“Is this a private war, or can anybody join in?” Ky asked, shutting the door behind him. “I could hear your voices all the way down the corridor.”
“I don't suppose you've seen Liath, have you?” Morgan sighed as Conna spun on his heel away from them and strode over to the window.
“No, thank the Structure. Is that what you were arguing about?”
“I was asking Conna if he knew where she was – I need a little more information about the lady I'm supposed to marry.”
“You're using her,” Conna flung over his shoulder.
“She is supposed to be a seer – all I would like her to do is be available to carry out her job!” Morgan snapped back.
“Have either of you asked Druin if he knows?” Ky enquired, helping himself to an apple from a small table by the fireplace and polishing it on the sleeve of his green shirt.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door and a servant came in bowing his head. “A message from the healer, my lord,” the man said.
Morgan nodded for him to continue.
“The healer says if you wish to see his daughter, you are to go down to his workrooms.”
Ky grinned and took another bite of apple. Morgan nodded his head and dismissed the servant. “This won't take long. And when I get back, Conna, I want to talk to you!”
Druin met him in the small ante-chamber to his two work-rooms. “Arguing with Conna again?”
Morgan dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “Liath's here... I wish to talk to her.”
“Of course, that's why I sent the message. But before you go through, just exactly why did you invite my daughter to your hall?”
“You don't know?” the young lord asked, surprised at the odd question.
Druin said nothing, but stood before the dark haired man, waiting for an answer.
“Of course you know,” Morgan stated heavily, “she could wrap any man she wanted around her little finger. And the High Lord, for all his experience, is no different from any other man. Then she told me what I should have realized for myself, that it's my duty to find a wife and provide heirs for my people. Not to have an affair with a half-Akashiian seer,” he said bitterly. “But that still doesn't alter the way I feel about her, Druin. Even though she ignores it and seems to prefer Conna and Balin. Why did you ask when it must be so obvious?”
“It's not so obvious; you're very good at hiding your feelings, at times, anyway. But I do know that her being here has set in motion a chain of events which could alter the whole future of the land, and everyone in it.”
“She is the seer. Why don't you ask her what the results of this will be?” Morgan suggested, taking a step towards the healer, meaning to pass.
Druin placed the palm of his hand against Morgan's chest, stopping him. “I have. She refuses to look for me. For reasons of her own, she won't even look more than two days ahead, and that only seems to be for your benefit.” He lifted his hand away, but pointed a finger at Morgan. “I feel it though. And your land does.”
Then he sidestepped the young lord and strode out of the room. Puzzled, Morgan turned on his heel and stared out through the open door. Druin had already vanished along the corridor. Shaking his head, he walked over to the door of Druin's treatment room. The other room was usually kept locked; it was where the healer kept his most dangerous medicines and drugs, carried out tests and experiments. When he entered, the seer looked up from where she was sitting at the work bench, holding an old scroll flat on the marble top.
“Hello, Morgan,” she said quietly, letting the worn parchment roll up again.
“Liath,” he smiled, pulling out a high stool from beneath the workbench. “We have to...”
“Tomorrow will be the time for you to place Rainard's men under guard and confront him with your knowledge of his plot,” she stated, cutting off his words. “If your captain, Garrant, takes 15 men for each of Rainard's ships and has them boarded simultaneously, t
hey will be taken by surprise and no-one harmed. Hurral's outlaws and those warriors he took from here have stopped all but three of the island bands.” She paused and unrolled a different scroll. “You will find them here, here and here,” she pointed to the three places on the map, “by noon the day after tomorrow.”
“And how do you suggest I deal with the lord himself?”
“That's entirely up to you,” she replied, letting the map roll up, and avoiding his eyes, strode swiftly out of the room, ignoring the call he sent after her. By the time Morgan strode to the door, she had vanished. Kicking the door shut, he turned and slumped back down at the workbench, restraining himself from ripping the scrolls to shreds.
***
“Well, Rainard, what can I do for you?” Morgan asked, as he settled into the big carved chair of office, resting his elbows on the padded arms and steepling his fingers.
The islander glared at him. “It has come to my attention, Lord Morgan, that certain of my subjects have been set upon and murdered while travelling through your lands!” he declared, placing one foot on the bottom step of the dais.
“Really!” Morgan replied, looking shocked. “And have you any idea who is committing these terrible acts?”
“An outlaw,” he gestured angrily. “A brigand by the name of Ben-al.”
“Ahh, that would account for it,” Morgan murmured, watching the Yrloch lord through his fingers.
“You know of this murderer?”
“Yes. It is his dislike for plotters and would-be usurpers which leads him to attack and kill your men, my friend.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Rainard asked carefully.
Morgan studied his fingernails for a moment, then looked down at the other man. “Did you really think I was unaware of your plans, islander?” he enquired. “Or of your men heading towards Delgannan? Why your fleet has docked in ones and twos, disguised as merchant ships? The reasons for your daughter's ploys? Or why your son tried to have a priestess-seer killed in my city? Do you take me for as much a fool as yourself?” he smiled calmly.
“I don't know what you're talking about!” Rainard exclaimed. “True, most of my fleet has come to Delgannan, but they are here to bring trade, and to escort me and my family to Thesa, where we shall be involved in more trading.”
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