“Must be more powerful than the others,” the farmer suggested.
“Well, then it’s good he’s got a special guard,” I said, thinking just the opposite. If Matthias was guarded so well, how were we going to get him out?
“See now, you’re looking much happier,” the farmer said, smiling at me.
Was I? Well, now I knew where Matthias was. That was a big relief. And I’d stopped thinking about Scai and Aron, too. I smiled back at the man. “Yes, I am. Now that I know there are enough knights to hold all those witches, I am feeling more relieved.”
“Well, then, our work here is done, wot, wot? If you’ll excuse us,” Sir Dagonet said, standing and backing out of the bench he’d been sitting on. I did the same.
“What a shame to take your granddaughter away just now that she’s feeling better,” the man next to me protested.
Sir Dagonet cleared his throat and cast me a side-glance. “Yes, well, got to get her home to her mother before it gets too late or I’ll never hear the end of it, don’t you know?”
The man laughed and nodded his head, waving us off.
Sir Dagonet and I rode straight back to our campsite.
“You did really well, sir,” I said, as we rode.
“As did you. Very clever, wot? Got everyone talking about the wit—er, Vallen being held.”
“Yes, we did all right... Granddad,” I said, laughing.
Sir Dagonet chuckled.
We were the first ones back, but my brothers joined us soon enough, and we happily recounted all that we had learned.
“Wow, you got a lot more information than we did. All we learned was that the witches are being held at Saerdbury Castle,” Piers said.
“We didn’t get much more,” Peter agreed.
“We nearly got into a fight with a knight who wanted to know why two strangers were so interested in the witches,” James said.
“Oh, no!” I reached out and put my hand on his arm.
“It’s all right. We got out of it before things got out of hand,” he said, giving my hand a pat.
It wasn’t for another hour or so that Scai and Aron returned. By then Sir Dagonet was getting worried and I was furious.
“What took you so long?” I asked standing to greet them, as they rode up.
Scai looked at me, her big blue eyes widening innocently. She jumped off of Aron’s horse. “We were collecting information. How long have you been back?”
“A while,” I said, working hard to keep the growl out of my voice.
“We learned that they’re looking for a blacksmith,” Aron offered, perhaps hoping to calm things by changing the subject.
“We didn’t hear that,” I challenged. “And we spoke to someone whose sister is working at the castle.”
Aron shrugged.
“Did you learn anything useful from her?” Scai asked.
Sir Dagonet and I recounted once again all that we had learned with my brothers throwing in the bits and pieces they had found out as well. But I wanted to know what had taken Scai and Aron so long to find out that one bit of information. Clearly they’d been doing more than just talking to people.
I was working hard to keep my fire under control when Scai yawned dramatically. “Well, I’m going to go to sleep.”
“Yes. Me, too. I’ll go over to the castle first thing in the morning and see if I can’t get that job blacksmithing,” Aron said. He turned to Scai, “Do you think you could take the form of a bird tomorrow and peer into the windows to find out where they’re holding Matthias? It would make it much easier to free him if we knew exactly where he was being held.”
My fire burned hotter.
He wanted Scai to go with him to the castle? Boy, they were just doing everything they could to be together, weren’t they? And what were they going to do when Dylan got back?
I didn’t wait to hear Scai’s answer. I couldn’t without setting something on fire. I spun around on my heel and walked away.
Chapter Seventeen
I watched Scai and Aron ride off the following morning with a bitterness in my heart that shamed me. I shouldn’t feel this way. I should have been happy for my sister. She was beautiful. Talented. Powerful. And she had two men who were madly in love with her while I…
Well, I was talented and powerful, too. And I was loved by my family. I should be happy with that.
And, really, what was Scai going to do with two men? She’d have to eventually pick one of them and break the heart of the other. I didn’t envy her that.
“Everything all right, Bridget?” Thomas asked, coming up next to me.
I looked over at my brother. Could I tell him what was truly bothering me? What I’d seen? He was in love, he’d understand, my mind whispered. True, but what good would it do? No, if I told him he just might think less of Scai and I wouldn’t want that—not when he and my brothers were really getting to know and like her.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just worried about Matthias,” I said. It was the truth, so Thomas wouldn’t be able to say that I was lying to him. I just wasn’t telling him everything. “He doesn’t really know how to deal with someone like Nimuë. She could be doing anything to him and he’d be helpless to stop her.”
Thomas’s brow furrowed as he considered my words.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” I said quickly. I hadn’t wanted to worry Thomas.
“No, it’s all right. You’re right that he is rather helpless and much too innocent to be facing someone like Lady Nimuë. But I’m also thinking how amazing it is that you are not.” He turned and enfolded me into him arms. “You’ve grown up so much, my sweet little sister. You’re thinking of others. You’re brave and strong beyond anything.” He pulled back. “I’m really proud of you.”
I would have been proud of myself, too, if I hadn’t had so many angry thoughts about Scai and Aron recently. I guess I still had a good bit more growing up to do. I gave Thomas a quick squeeze and then pulled away before he even got a hint that I was still upset.
A clap on my shoulder made me jump. “Ready to go out hunting for more information, Granddaughter?” Sir Dagonet asked with a broad smile on his face. “We did an excellent job of it last night. Surely we can do just as well today. Need to find out where those Vallen are being held and what Lady Nimuë plans to do with them, don’t you know?”
I shoved all of my hurt aside and instead gave the old knight the brightest smile I could muster. I didn’t dare speak to him my thoughts either. He didn’t need to know. No, it was worse—it would upset him to no end to know of the discord happening under his careful watch. Instead, I climbed up behind Sir Dagonet and we set out at an easy canter to the market, with my brothers not far behind.
<><><>
Nimuë could well have worn a path into the carpet in her room with all the pacing she’d done that day.
Things were coming to a head. She could feel it. Her knights had gathered a good number of “witches” and she had succeeded in her plans to draw the children to her. Now she just needed to finish them off and the rest of the pieces would fall into place.
She had taken Scai and Bridget’s brothers in a fit of pique when she’d found out Scai was still alive. That move had proved to be much more successful than she could have anticipated. Only now she had to decide what to do with the one brother Bridget hadn’t managed to free. Even better was the knight, Patric, who had fallen into her lap entirely by accident.
She had been thrilled when he’d come to her the day before to tell her who he was and that he now knew who she was. He had knelt before her and vowed his allegiance in a way all the knights, lords, and even the king, would be doing before long. That knowledge alone sent a rush of satisfaction through her.
She was so close.
But what to do with all of her pawns? They were all lining up neatly in a row, now she just had to figure out how to use them to her advantage in order to win the game.
A knock on the door interrupted he
r thoughts. Patric entered with a flourishing bow.
“You called for me, my lady?”
“I need those children,” she said, barely pausing to acknowledge him.
“Children?” Patric look confused.
She scowled at him. “Bridget, Scai, and Dylan. The Children of Avalon,” she explained testily.
Patric gave a little laugh. “They’re hardly children, madam. But if you would like me to bring them to you…”
It was Nimuë’s turn to stop and laugh. “And you think you need only to go out and fetch them and they will willingly come with you?”
Patric gave a shrug. “It seems to me they want to meet you as readily as you want to meet them.”
Nimuë gave a small nod. “That may be the case, but as you are a little late to this game that we play, I will forgive you your ignorance. We do not simply wish to meet, Sir Patric, this is a fight to the death, and nothing short of cleverness and strength will win this war. What I need is a way to learn what the children are planning so that I may establish my own strategy.”
She turned on her heel and paced away from the young man. “Dylan clearly has a soft spot for you—”
Patric gave a burst of laughter and then stopped it abruptly when she spun toward him. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but Dylan hates me with a passion.”
She cocked her head at him. “Why would you think that when he has obviously allowed you to live for so long?”
“Allowed me?” the knight nearly sputtered. “Why I taught him—”
Nimuë brushed aside his bravado. “You may have taught him sword play when he was a child, but he clearly cares for you, otherwise he would have killed you long ago. He has more raw power in his finger than you have in your entirety. He could end your pitiful life with hardly a thought and have you happy as you breathed your last. He is my grandson.”
Patric’s face turned a deep red, but he wisely kept his mouth clamped shut. She could see how hard he worked at it by the jumping muscles in his jaw.
“No. He clearly likes you, but I’m not certain I could put those feelings to good use,” she said, turning away from him again. A loud tinging sound out in the courtyard caught her attention. She could see a blacksmith hammering away at something through the window. She was about to turn back to Patric when something about that blacksmith caught her attention. His long brown wavy hair looked familiar. She had seen him somewhere before.
He stood up from his work, wiping the sweat from his forehead, but when he stretched out his neck, tilting his head up she realized from where she knew him. It was with the children. He’d been with them both at Holme and when she’d met them on the road. It was he who had worked with Bridget to free her brothers. He even took part in her silly play with the trees.
She crooked her finger to Patric and then pointed it down at the blacksmith. “Who is he?”
Patric walked over to take a look out the window where she was pointing. He shrugged. “A blacksmith?”
Nimuë gave him a glare that made him look out at the man once again. “He was with Dylan. He was part of their group,” Patric said, finally getting it.
“I know that, but…” And then it occurred to her exactly why he was here at the castle. “He’s spying on me!”
“How could he do that from there?” Patric asked, and then he must have made eye contact with the fellow because his mouth dropped open at the same time that the blacksmith ducked back down to his work.
“Matthias!” Nimuë spat, knowing exactly what she would do.
“What?”
“I want Matthias. Get him for me.”
<><><>
Only minutes later, Bridget's brother was standing defiantly before her. She wanted to laugh at his ridiculous stance—his feet apart, his head held high. He looked ready for a fight.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Nimuë purred, trying to put the boy at ease. He didn't move. "I simply have a task I need you to perform for me."
His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion and curiosity.
"I want you to find your sisters and discover what they are planning, then come back here and tell me." The magic she infused into her words was light, but she was ready to back it up with something stronger if necessary.
Matthias's eyes widened in shock. "I won’t spy on my sister for you!"
"Oh, but you will," she countered. She put even more magic into her words and began to repeat her request.
Then the silly boy did something so unexpected she nearly burst out laughing—he covered his ears and started to sing.
Nimuë stopped. “What are you doing?” she shouted above his singing.
But he just sang louder.
Nimuë looked to Patric. He shrugged, walked over to Matthias and clapped his hand over the boy’s mouth.
Imbuing her words with even more magic, Nimuë repeated her command to Matthias. “Do you understand?” she finished.
He nodded, or attempted to do so. Patric let him go.
“Very well. Now, that blacksmith friend of your sister’s is outside in the courtyard; go and use him to find your way to her,” Nimuë told him.
Matthias moved slowly at first, as if he were fighting the suggestion she’d put into his mind, but by the time he left the room he was practically running.
“Go and follow him,” she told Patric. “Make sure he does as he’s been told, but don’t let anyone see you. If he dares to stray, kill him.”
A smile flickered on and off of the knight’s face before he bowed himself out of the room.
Chapter Eighteen
Nimuë watched from the window as Matthias snuck over to the blacksmith. He looked around furtively, as if he were being followed—not knowing that he actually was—and then said something, startling the man. Oh, how she wished she could hear them, but she didn’t have time just now to spy on her spy; she had more important work to do. She had to take care of her own traitorous sister.
<><><>
“So what now?” I asked Sir Dagonet, as we made our way back to our camp.
The old knight sighed heavily. “I guess we wait for Scai and Aron to return from the castle. Perhaps they have learned something.”
That didn’t sound very exciting—or easy. I didn’t do waiting very well. I hated sitting around doing nothing.
“You would think that relaxing for a bit would sound nice,” I said, feeling almost itchy at the thought of sitting and doing nothing. “Especially after all the travelling and what not that we’ve done for the past month, but honestly, I don’t know that I can just sit and wait.”
Sir Dagonet chuckled in front of me. “I’m looking forward to sitting for a spell, don’t you know?”
“You must be very tired,” I offered. “This can’t be easy for you.”
“Oh, not so tired. I have been waiting nearly two hundred years for you all to come along. So waiting a couple of hours for Scai to return doesn’t sound so terrible, wot, wot?”
I could only laugh at his reasoning. But when we arrived back at the camp Scai was already there chatting with our brothers.
“Did you learn anything?” I asked, as I dismounted.
She stood up from the tree she’d been sitting against. “I found Matthias. He’s well.”
“Wot? Wot? Think we can get to him?” Sir Dagonet asked, hesitating before he let his horse loose to graze, in case we would need to leave again.
“No. There was someone standing guard outside his room, just as the woman you spoke to yesterday said.” Scai gave the horse a pat.
“Patric?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t go out into the hallway to see who it was, but I could hear him doing something just outside of the door.”
“Then how are we going to get him out?” I asked, looking around for ideas from anyone.
“Aron is going to try to see if he can’t do something,” Scai answered with a shrug.
“Do something?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t think we want to know
what he might do,” James offered.
“I wouldn’t mind helping him do something, if only I could get in…” Piers started.
“You’re beginning to sound just like Matthias! You can’t just walk onto the castle grounds,” Peter scoffed.
“I know that!” Piers began to defend himself.
“All right, that’s enough. I know it’s hard just sitting here, but we’ve got to be…” Thomas’s words were cut off by the sound of galloping hooves. We all stood in anticipation.
Aron rode into the camp, but he wasn’t the only one on his horse.
“Matthias!” I yelped.
Immediately, everyone converged on my youngest brother before either he or Aron had a chance to dismount from the horse.
“What happened?”
“How’d you get him free?”
“How are you?”
“What did she do to you?”
The questions flew at him faster than he could answer. Matthias just laughed and dismounted. Once on the ground, he hugged us all—even Thomas.
Without even stopping to think, I threw my arms around Aron’s neck. “Thank you! Thank you for bringing my brother back.”
He held me, pulling me tighter to him for too brief of a moment before, dare I hope, reluctantly letting me go. “I wish I could say that I had anything to do with his escape, but I didn’t,” Aron admitted.
“What happened, then?” Sir Dagonet asked.
“I was working in the courtyard, keeping an eye on his room,” Aron began, “which, by the way is only two windows down from Nimuë’s.”
“Did you see her?” Piers asked, sounding horrified.
“Yes. I don’t know if she saw me, though Patric did.”
“Patric is there, too?” Peter asked.
“Well, we knew he was there. He was supposed to be guarding Matthias,” I answered, dismissing Peter and eager to get back to Matthias’s story. “So what happened? How did you escape?”
“Patric came in to check in on me and I jumped him. Knocked him right out with the basin,” Matthias said, looking very proud of himself.
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