“What is it?” Griogair asked. “Is she requesting to open trade negotiations?”
Eilidh glanced at Tràth. “Oh yes,” she said. “And more.” She turned to the nurses hovering nearby. “Take Princess Maiya for her morning’s rest, please.” They swept forward and retrieved the child from Munro’s arms and left quickly.
“What does Imena want?” Munro asked, his tone wary.
Eilidh frowned, reading over the papers again. Pausing a moment, she handed them to Griogair. After his eyes scanned the documents, he showed them to Munro. “The script is in the fae tongue,” he said.
Eilidh glanced at Tràth. “You spoke to Imena after dinner?” Her tone was sharp.
“Yes, briefly,” Tràth replied cautiously. “She was intrigued by our little game. Perhaps too much so. I made it clear I would not be pursuing a mating ritual with her and indicated I was leaving the Halls of Mist immediately, regardless of whether she continued talks with Caledonia. I was with her when you called. I may have exited abruptly, but she didn’t give the impression my departure upset her.”
“What does this say?” Munro asked, gesturing to the missive.
“She has invited a Caledonian trade delegation to Zalia to open formal negotiations,” Eilidh said, not taking her eyes off Tràth. “On one condition.”
“What condition?” Dread crawled up Tràth’s neck. Had he done something wrong?
“That you act as my delegate.”
“Me?” Tràth said.
“What did you talk with her about?” Griogair asked his son.
Tràth frowned. The conversation had been of little consequence in his mind, and he couldn’t think how his words might have spurred her to such an action. “I’m as surprised as you are,” he said. He relayed the words that had passed between them with precision. His talent with time gave him a hauntingly clear memory.
Griogair spoke to Eilidh. “Tràth’s health is not stable enough to put such a burden on him.” Despite the use of a euphemism like health to mean mental state, Tràth found his father’s concern touching.
“How did your meditation session go?” Munro asked Tràth. “Were you able to close the connection?”
Tràth shook his head. “No, but I think with practise I could. With Eilidh’s soothing, my mind is more calm and focused. The flows of time aren’t as overwhelming. I’m hopeful.”
“You know what I think about closing the bond,” Munro said. “But I respect your decision. If you think you can handle this, maybe in a few weeks, after you’ve had some more sessions with Eilidh, you’d be up for it.”
“The princess insists he depart in no less than five nights’ time,” Eilidh said.
“So soon?” Tràth’s mind reeled. Why the hurry? What was Imena up to?
“To call this unwise would be an understatement,” Griogair said.
“Agreed,” Munro said. “Is this negotiable?” he asked Eilidh.
She shook her head. “The missive clearly states that all other points are open to discussion, but on these two, the princess stands firm.”
“Why?” Tràth asked.
Eilidh furrowed her brow. “Clearly there is something going on in Zalia of which we are unaware. Or maybe the demand is more personal.”
“What do you mean?” Tràth asked. “I told you every word that passed between us.”
“Yes,” the queen said thoughtfully, “but there is a lot more to a conversation than the words.” She paused, frowning and tapping her fingers together as she thought. None dared interrupt her. “You made no advance toward her? Did nothing she might interpret as intimate or even flirtatious?”
Tràth shrugged. “I do not always understand what a woman will consider flirtatious, but I don’t think so. I smiled at her. I tried to be pleasant but distant. I told her in no uncertain terms I had no interest in becoming her mate. As I said, I offered to host her at my palace. Even that was offered in no more than a cordial manner, as I would have done to anyone of our station I found interesting.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Griogair said, his voice firm. “We must decline the princess’ request.”
Tràth turned to Eilidh. “What if you sent a diplomat, a negotiator, and another astral faerie with me? One strong enough to guide me through the meditations and keep my mind stable?”
Eilidh hesitated. “As to the first two, we would need to be careful. She insisted only you conduct the negotiations. However, we might send some skilled younger members of our diplomatic service as part of your retinue. You would have to be cautious how you regarded them and not allow the princess to believe anyone else spoke for you.” Her eyes lit up. “We could send them as protocol officers.”
“What about his mind?” Griogair said. “Not to be indelicate, but I found him in a drugged stupor only hours ago. A misstep like that would be more disastrous than declining the invitation.”
Eilidh shook her head. “I trust Tràth,” she said. “But you’re right. Who could we send to aid him in continuing his meditations? Clearly, I can’t attend myself. I have only trained on my treatment of the bond with Elder Oron. Sadly, I doubt Imena would welcome a member of my conclave as part of this delegation, not that he would agree to our plan.” She sighed. “He believes strongly even a temporary shutting of the bond is unwise.”
“Then we shouldn’t take the risk,” Griogair said. “We will not endanger my son for trade, Eilidh.”
“No,” she said. “Of course you’re right.”
Tràth watched the exchange, thoughts racing in his mind. He’d never considered taking on the role of a delegate for Caledonia. He’d spent so much time telling everyone how unsuitable he was to be a royal that he believed it. Now, he pondered the opportunity, thinking of the chance to not only get away from Douglas and the Halls of Mist but his empty life in Caledonia. Although he’d planned to stay with Eilidh and her mates in Canton Dreich rather than returning immediately to the Gap of Bria, this would be a step forward. He thought of Imena and her offer of friendship. Somehow, he trusted her. “I want to go,” he said.
The other three stared at him.
“Are you sure?” Munro asked.
Tràth nodded. “My life, as has been pointed out more than once lately, is frivolous. This is my opportunity to do something that matters. Surely there’s another astral faerie who can cope with keeping my mind steady and teaching me meditation?”
“Too bad Flùranach’s busy,” Munro said. “She’s so strong. Rory and Flùranach told me they believe they may have found a new druid, so they need to stay nearby.”
Eilidh shook her head. “Although she is adept, she’s no longer loyal to Caledonia. Even if she were available, she’s too young and undisciplined to cope with the time stream. After what happened last time, I’m not sure she’d want to.”
Tràth agreed. Contact with the time stream had aged Flùranach from eight years old to twenty-five in a matter of weeks. Besides that, even at twenty-five, she was far too young to take on a diplomatic mission. He wanted an adult, at least, if not an elder. “There are others, though, surely?” he asked.
Eilidh’s expression brightened. “I think I know who to ask. I’m not sure if she’ll be willing to play the part of an attendant, but she certainly has the ability to cope with the demands.”
“What about this?” Griogair asked Eilidh, tapping a particular section of the document.
“Out of the question,” Eilidh said.
“Don’t you think we should at least put it to Munro? The Druid Hall is his province, and we should not presume to speak for them.”
“What is it?” Munro asked.
“The request is out of the question,” Eilidh repeated firmly, then sighed at Griogair’s expression. “Princess Imena has invited Tràth to bring his bonded druid. She expresses interest and curiosity, saying she would also be willing to negotiate use of the Zalian gates with him.”
Tràth paled, at a loss for words. This changed everything.
“Definitely not,” Mun
ro agreed. “It’s a shame, really. Still, I’m hopeful we can build a relationship over time. This wasn’t one of the demands, I hope.”
“No,” Eilidh said.
“What if she would accept an alternate druid in the retinue?” Griogair asked. “Why not Huck? Demi? Aaron? Even Munro would likely be welcomed. She invited Douglas out of politeness, but also expressed her curiosity and openness. This might be a good opportunity for the Druid Hall. There’s no reason she wouldn’t welcome another.”
“Quinton?” Eilidh raised an eyebrow in his direction.
“Huck and Demi aren’t available. They’ve gone to visit his family. I’m too closely allied with Caledonia to go myself. As Eilidh’s mate, there may be confusion as to whether I spoke for Caledonia or the Druid Hall. Lisle won’t leave Jago while Demi is gone. That only leaves Aaron. I don’t think he would be a good choice either, if I’m honest. Not with all things considered.”
“What things?” Griogair asked.
“He means my personal…situation,” Tràth said.
His father looked at him sharply. “Have you had some disagreement with the Druid Hall of which I’m unaware?”
“No,” he said. “If Aaron wishes to represent the Druid Hall to Zalia, I would be happy to work with him in whatever way necessary.”
“Are you certain you’re up to this?” Eilidh asked Tràth. “Although I’m grateful that you’re willing to try, I’m placing a great deal of trust in you. If you are experiencing even a hint of doubt, tell me now.”
Of course he had doubts. A million things might go wrong, resulting in disaster for the diplomatic relationship between the two kingdoms. He was shocked Eilidh was considering sending him. “I have none,” he said.
“What if she offers you the opportunity to become her mate? Despite her protestations of friendship, I suspect there is more to this. You have caught her eye, and I wonder if this is more about getting close to you than opening a dialogue with Caledonia. You may be under intense pressure and scrutiny.”
“I understand. I agree she was taken aback at my lack of interest, but I honestly think the princess wants both my friendship and to build a relationship with Caledonia.” Tràth shrugged. “I may be naïve, but I looked into her eyes when we spoke, and I believed her.”
“Very well,” Eilidh said. “It may take at least a day to get the astral faerie I have in mind. She lives in Canerecht and was someone I knew from Skye. I will suggest she pose as a secondary personal attendant. The Zalians won’t think anything of you bringing a large company of servants with you.”
Munro spoke up. “I’ll talk to Aaron. I’m sure he’ll be interested. He’d be thrilled to get away from the constant bond-testing he’s routinely subjected to.”
Eilidh handed the missive to Griogair. “Will you handle the final negotiations?” she asked. “The details should be handled by someone other than me. This way, if they baulk at our terms, you can tell them we must confer before making a decision.”
“Of course,” he said with an almost imperceptible bow. He turned to Tràth. “I don’t need to emphasise how much is riding on this, do I?”
“No, Father,” Tràth replied.
“Don’t worry,” Eilidh said to her step-son. “I’ll send good people with you who understand trade and Caledonia’s interests. They will guide you through every stage. It works to our advantage that you have a reputation for being unconventional. Any missteps can be explained away as part of your normal manner.” She smiled.
“Thank you,” Tràth said. “I won’t let you down.”
Griogair nodded. “Then you’d best go direct your servants to prepare.” He held up the missive. “And I will begin negotiating some of the finer points.”
“I’ll go talk to Aaron and arrange for an honour guard of Mistwatchers for him,” Munro said. “I’m certain he’ll be happy to go with you.” The druid’s expression was meaningful, and Tràth nodded.
“Thank you,” he said. Everything seemed to be happening quickly, and the doubts began to compound in his mind.
Chapter 7
On the night of Tràth’s departure, Eilidh and Griogair walked down to the portal to say farewell to him. In the previous days, he’d made significant progress in his meditations, and she had no doubt he’d soon have some control over the bond and its influence. Alyssa, Elder Oron’s granddaughter and an accomplished astral fae in her own right, had agreed to accompany the party. She had been training as a Watcher since she passed her fiftieth year mark. Fortunately, rather than taking insult at being asked to do something so far outside her chosen path, she behaved as though she was undertaking a secret mission for the queen.
Aaron and his retinue had already gone forward, and Tràth’s entourage would meet them on the road to the Zalian capital. The carts passed through first, giving Tràth a moment to say goodbye. “Thank you for everything, Mother,” he said to Eilidh and kissed her cheek. “I feel happier than I have in as long as I can remember.” He looked better too, less distracted and weary. Douglas’ presence clearly still haunted him. The pair had avoided each other so strenuously that Eilidh believed with conviction she was doing the right thing by helping Tràth dampen, if not close, their connection. She’d been heartbroken to hear what Douglas had said to her step-son. The boy had lied, of course. She’d been a witness to the fact that Douglas had wanted the bonding. If he hadn’t, no one could have forced him to say the words. Eilidh had tried to tell Tràth as much, but he kindly rebuffed her attempts to soothe his aching heart.
“Father,” Tràth said, and likewise kissed his father’s cheek.
Soon, only the prince and his honour guard of six Caledonian Watchers remained. There were no further instructions to give, no more words of encouragement necessary. They’d spent the past few days exhausting every eventuality she and her advisors could think of. She smiled at him. “We’ll miss you.”
“And I, you,” he said. He signalled to his Watchers. With a smile, he said, “If not sooner, I’ll see you on the Feast of Yalden Day.” He bowed before departing through the shimmering blue portal.
Just as he left, Munro came trotting down the narrow bridge from the Druid Hall. He held Princess Maiya, dressed in denim overalls and carrying her wooden rattle. “Dammit,” Munro said, coming around the portal to greet them. “I’ve missed them?”
Griogair nodded. “Hello,” he said, reaching up to touch Maiya’s rosy cheek.
Eilidh was less than pleased. “What in the name of the Mother are you doing out here with Maiya dressed like that?” she hissed.
“What’s wrong?” Munro asked. “She looks cute.”
Maiya shook her rattle and gurgled something that sounded disappointingly like Jago.
“Cute?” Eilidh said, trying not to raise her voice. The immense square was fairly deserted now that both convoys had gotten underway. A few Caledonian Watchers and servants waited on the royal family, and library scholars went about their business.
Munro sighed. “She still makes a mess of her food. It’s more practical to put her in washable clothes,” he said.
Eilidh couldn’t stomach his attitude anymore. “She is a princess. You are a Druid Lord. You should not care if her clothes are washable. This is why you have nurses and servants. There are people whose entire lives are devoted to these things.”
Munro held one of Maiya’s hands in his own, bouncing her in his arms as he pretended to gnaw on her fingers just as Maiya was trying to gnaw on him. The tiny ridges of her single tooth had just begun to break through the skin. The baby giggled. “Fine. I’ll take her back to the Hall. I just thought her brother might like to see her before he left for an extended journey.”
“I’ll call a nurse,” Eilidh said.
“What could I possibly be doing wrong now?” Munro growled. “Don’t you think I can manage to carry her a hundred yards without supervision?”
“Over the mists?” Eilidh asked with exasperation. He was not only inexperienced but careless too.
&n
bsp; “We walk over the mists every bloody day!” Munro shouted.
Maiya squeaked her disapproval at his tone, and Griogair murmured, “Shall we take this back to one Hall or the other? We are not alone.”
“Not with my daughter, you don’t,” Eilidh countered.
Munro kissed Maiya on the side of the face to calm her fussing. “We’re upsetting Maiya,” he said.
“She shouldn’t even be here,” Eilidh said, suddenly no longer able to contain her temper. “She should be in a nursery, learning the fae tongue and preparing to control her magic when it begins to manifest.”
“You gave your word,” Munro said. “We talked about this, and you agreed.”
“Well, I don’t agree any longer. I thought you would respect her nurses. I thought you merely wanted some reassurance she was well cared for. I didn’t know you were going to parade her in horrible clothing in public and teach her to speak English! She’s going to end up like that lethfae boy.”
Munro looked stricken. “Our daughter is lethfae. Don’t you dare say that like it’s a dirty word. Not ever.”
Eilidh had never felt such cold anger through their bond, and she knew she’d gone too far. But how could he expect otherwise? He tried her patience to the extreme, and she’d finally snapped. “You talk to him, Griogair,” she said. “I can’t make him see reason.”
“I think,” Griogair said, “we should go sit and have a conversation. In private. The three of us or the two of you, but perhaps not shouting in the public square, and especially not in front of the princess. I can take her to her nurses, if you two wish to collect your thoughts.”
“Thanks, but I’m going home,” Munro said. “I told Jago he could read to Maiya before her nap.” He turned toward the portal, heading to the bridges beyond.
“Quinton,” Eilidh said. He didn’t stop. She sighed. Then, as Munro passed the portal, it darkened. A strange form coalesced within the light and reached out like a huge, black hand of mist. “Quinton!” Eilidh shouted as the panic rose in her chest.
He spun at the sound of her voice, a flash of worry playing over his expression in that instant, a moment she would later relive over and over. His eyes widened as the hand descended on him and Maiya. The princess struck out with her rattle as the darkness engulfed them both. As the rattle came in contact with the strange mist, the vapour parted. Eilidh ran forward, and as she did, Munro did something remarkable. He threw Maiya with all his might. Making a whip of air, Eilidh cocooned the baby and swept her back toward Griogair, even as Eilidh reached out for Munro.
Caledonia Fae 05 - Elder Druid Page 9