It was then he realized that its beat was precisely in time with that of his own heart.
The Elphine Queen blew on the sphere and it seemed to fill with blowing ash. Or maybe flakes of silver. No, snowflakes. The tiny flakes swirled around the heart and it skipped a beat.
Murdoch felt the lurch in his chest. His skin might have been struck with a thousand needles and pins in that moment, and he looked down to see glittering dust swirling around his body.
When he glanced up, the Elphine Queen turned the orb, displaying the other side of the heart to him. That side of it was dark, as black as a midnight sky. Dead.
“You would kill me! I asked for release, but you would kill me instead.”
She shook her head, apparently fascinated with her gruesome charm. “I gave you release, one moon’s course to revisit the realm you once knew.” She impaled him with a glance. “I would have you choose – this world or mine own. I think I know your true desire. I have hold of your heart, after all.”
She turned as if she would leave him, but Murdoch wanted to know the fullness of the truth. “What do you mean? What will happen to me? What have you done?”
The Elphine Queen glanced over her shoulder. “When the moon is new again, your heart will be as black as mine. What happens to you will be the result of your choice.”
She blew him a kiss but Murdoch had heard sufficient. He gave Zephyr his spurs and charged through the cloud of tiny Fae, scattering them as he rode in pursuit of his companions.
He needed to be with men, with flesh and blood.
For every moment that he could.
* * *
Isabella sat at Kinfairlie’s board that night, toying with her meal. How could she get the key to Alexander’s chamber without him knowing of it?
Alexander behaved as though all was well, though she caught concern in his expression once or twice. He had escorted Eleanor to the board that evening, to the pleasure of the company. Eleanor had more color in her cheeks, though Isabella noticed that she leaned on Alexander more than was her habit. She had lost some weight in recent days, as well. Eleanor laughed as the assembly granted her good wishes, and gestured to Isabella.
“It was Isabella’s posset that allowed me to join you again,” she said, pride in her voice. “Soon her skill will surpass mine in such matters. You shall see.”
“I do not think it will be that soon,” Isabella acknowledged. “But I am glad to have been of assistance.”
Eleanor took her seat, smiling graciously at the three sisters. “Truly, I do not know how I would manage without the skills of all of you. Elizabeth, I thank you for doing the spice inventory for me on this day. It sets my mind at rest to know such chores are done, and so thoroughly.”
Elizabeth blushed to have the attention of the assembly fixed upon her.
“You shall make some man a good wife,” Eleanor continued and Elizabeth shot a triumphant glance at Isabella. “And Annelise, I thank you for playing with Roland on this day, yet again.”
“He is a joy, Eleanor,” the eldest of the unwed sisters said. “I think in truth he entertains me, for his antics are most amusing.”
Moira brought the laird’s son into the hall at that moment and all admired the toddler. Roland tugged free of the maid’s grip and bolted across the floor, visiting the hounds at the hearth before he made a dive for his mother’s lap. Alexander snatched him as he ran past and flipped him upside down, prompting the boy to laugh aloud. Eleanor’s hand rounded over her belly protectively and she shared a smile with her husband.
Alexander must not have confided whatever he knew in his wife, Isabella decided. He was very protective of Eleanor, a trait which Isabella much admired. Eleanor had endured too much sorrow in her life before coming to Kinfairlie, and it was honorable of Alexander to wish to protect her from any upset.
It was also another indication of his character. Alexander would not suffer a thief in his holding, if he could name the villain.
If Isabella could solve the riddle, it would be good for all.
“You are quiet on this night, Isabella,” Annelise noted from her left.
“I fear I did not sleep well last night.” Isabella felt a prick of conscience that she lied. “It must have been the wind.”
“Then why did you snore so very much?” Elizabeth demanded in her usual blunt manner.
“Perhaps you are falling ill,” Annelise suggested with gentle concern. It was in her nature to be thoughtful of others, as well as soft-spoken. She indicated Isabella’s full trencher with a fingertip. “That would explain your lack of appetite, as well.”
“Aye, for we know that you have an uncommon appetite for venison,” Elizabeth declared. “You must be ill to leave such choice morsels as these.” Elizabeth stole three of those most delectable pieces of meat, mischief dancing in her eyes.
On another evening, Isabella would have disputed the matter with her, but on this night, she seized upon the excuse.
“Perhaps you are right,” Isabella said to Annelise. “Perhaps I should retire early. I did wish to finish the embroidery on that hem of Eleanor’s new kirtle.”
“Embroidery instead of dancing?” Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the likelihood of that. “You would need to be nearly dead to be the first of us to leave the hall.”
Isabella ignored her youngest sister, who showed a new talent in being annoying.
“You might remain but dance less than is your habit,” Annelise suggested with a smile.
Truly, it was a great deal of trouble to tell anything other than the truth!
Isabella was saved from having to fabricate a response for Anthony strode to the high table and bowed before Alexander. “My lord, a messenger has arrived to speak with you.”
“So late?” Alexander said with surprise. “Surely the gates are secured?”
“Indeed, they are, my lord, but this man is known to us. He is of the king’s retinue.” Anthony frowned. “And it seems his arrival has been delayed by an incident.”
The sisters exchanged glances at the change in the castellan’s tone.
Alexander frowned and cast down his napkin. “I will hear his message now.”
Anthony turned and beckoned. The hall fell silent as a man strode toward the high table. Strangely, he kept his cloak closed at the front. Isabella could see only his boots beneath the hem as he walked and she could not hear his armor.
Beside her, Elizabeth caught her breath.
“He must be holding it closed from the inside,” Isabella murmured, watching the new arrival keenly.
“Why?” Annelise’s hand landed on Isabella’s arm, her fingers tightening in her uncertainty. “Does he mean to attack Alexander?”
But there was no menace in the man’s pose, and it was the messenger who had come to them before. Isabella shook her head, watching as the arrival bowed low before Alexander, still keeping his cloak closed.
“Do you hide your weapons?” Alexander asked. His tone was light, as if he made a jest, and there was a murmur of agreement from the company.
The man flushed, his gaze darting to the three sisters and Eleanor. “I would not display my nudity before the ladies of your household, my lord.”
Alexander rose to his feet. “I beg your pardon?”
“I have been robbed, my lord, in the forest of Kinfairlie.” The company gasped as one and began to chatter, even though Alexander held up his hand for silence. “I was set upon by bandits, my lord, thieves who seized my horse, my blade and my possessions. They left me with only my cloak and my boots. I walked from the forest, thus my late arrival.”
“Are you injured?” Eleanor demanded.
“I saw their blades, my lady, but was left unscathed. I thank you for your concern.” He cleared his throat. “I believe they were merciful because I gave no fight.”
“Bandits!” Alexander muttered through his teeth. “Did you see their faces? Could you identify them?”
“No, my lord. They had blackened their faces, I beli
eve.”
“How many were there?”
“I am not certain. They came upon me in darkness and were cursed quick about their trade. At least two. Possibly as many as four.” He grimaced. “I apologize, my lord, but I was surprised.”
Alexander swore under his breath. A ripple of concern passed through the hall and those gathered for the meal began to whisper. “And so you might be,” he said. “The road to Kinfairlie is well known to be safe.”
“They gave me a message for you, though, my lord.”
“Indeed? What is it?”
“The one who seemed to be the leader told me to ask whether your memory had been prompted as yet.”
Alexander’s lips tightened and his gaze became determined.
Isabella’s mouth went dry. Murdoch had done this. This was his bold plan. But he would condemn himself for Alexander would not tolerate bandits in his holding. She had to discover the truth.
Yet she had to do it without arousing suspicion.
“He did not surrender his name?” Alexander asked.
“No, my lord. But he had eyes of the most vivid blue that ever I have seen.”
Eleanor cleared her throat. “But you were destined for Kinfairlie with a message, as well, were you not?”
“Aye, my lady. That I was. And though the rogue relieved me of that scroll, I still do recall the message. I was in attendance when the king dictated its contents.”
“What news?” Alexander asked.
“James, King of Scotland, returns to his domain, my lord, with his new bride. He will be at Durham in March and Melrose by early April. The missive granted you safe passage to come and make your obeisance to him there at Melrose. He would receive your pledge of fealty as well as that of every knight in your household.”
“I shall have no need of a grant of safe passage if I can rid our forest of bandits,” Alexander said with a smile. “On the morrow, we shall ride out and rout this renegade from our forests, to ensure the safe passage of all at Kinfairlie.” The company cheered, but Isabella bit her lip.
She could not think of a way to see Murdoch warned.
Alexander spoke to the messenger. “I thank you for your tidings and apologize for what you have endured in my holding. I beg of you to take refreshment with us. Anthony, please find some garb for this loyal servant of the king.”
The company began to chatter again and the musicians began once more to play their lutes. Isabella watched Alexander as he called for more wine, seeing the worry that darkened his brow. As much as Isabella admired her brother’s administration of justice, she could not bear to think of Murdoch being maimed for his attempt to defend his family’s honor.
She excused herself from the board, feigning illness, determined to make each moment count.
* * *
Elizabeth could not believe her eyes.
The messenger came into Alexander’s hall, and all eyes turned upon him. No one, it appeared, noticed the man on the charcoal stallion who rode directly into the hall behind the man. His horse was large and majestic, and there were silver bells tied into his dark mane. The steed tossed his head as he pranced into the hall, seemingly enjoying the musical sound made by his gesture. His nostrils flared and his eyes glowed with a light that was not natural.
The man who rode that beast could have been a king. There were rings on his fingers and a golden crown upon his head. His beard was as dark as ebony and flowed down his chest like a river; his eyes were darker still. He wore a robe of sapphire blue, trimmed with golden embroidery, the like of which Elizabeth had never seen. His boots were made of gilded leather, supple and gleaming. His cloak was as red as blood and trimmed in white ermine.
His retinue were winged, which told Elizabeth who she saw. He was the royalty of the Fae! No less than fifteen attendants milled around his horse, holding the bridle, holding the stirrup, holding the ends of their regent’s cloaks. Not a one of them would have stood as tall as Elizabeth’s waist. They were dressed in green and gold, their wings fluttering so that they seemed to shimmer in place.
Elizabeth knew it was folly to stare at a Fae of such importance and she dropped her gaze to her trencher, pretending that she could not see him.
Far behind her, she heard a familiar hiss. “Kings and villains, rogues and thanes; all will come to thieve again. They take the spoils not theirs to claim, they steal and snatch, then leave again. Gold and silver, gems and jewels, do these intruders think us fools?”
Darg! Elizabeth had always been the only one who could see the spriggan, but she had not caught a glimpse of this small fairy in years. She spun now to look, but could not discern the spriggan in the darkness.
Darg had haunted Ravensmuir once and then Kinfairlie, but had been absent since Rosamunde and Tynan had been lost in the collapse of the caverns beneath Ravensmuir. Darg had not even appeared in the hall when Rosamunde had visited Kinfairlie and relieved the family’s fears for her survival. During that visit, Rosamunde had confirmed Tynan’s death and revealed her newfound love for her old friend and partner, Padraig. There had been no sign of the spriggan and Elizabeth had feared that Darg had been lost with Tynan.
But Darg was back.
And Darg did not like this fellow Fae.
Elizabeth turned back just as the Fae king dismounted and the messenger shared his tale. The king strode toward the high table, taking his time and smiling slightly as he brushed against the messenger. Half of his retinue walked with him, most tending to his cloak, while the others stayed with the horse. He strode to the far end of the high table and paused to study each person who sat there. He slid his fingertips along the lip of the table, and Elizabeth saw the silvery sparkle of Fae dust left by his touch.
He moved past Alexander and Eleanor quickly, almost dismissively. He paused before Annelise, surveying her so intently that Elizabeth feared for her older sister. Had he come to seize a mortal bride?
To Elizabeth’s relief, he shook his head and moved on.
He watched Isabella with an intensity that made terror coil in Elizabeth’s gut. His eyes were so dark that they appeared to have no pupils. He could have been a man with a thousand dark secrets, every one of them dangerous for a mortal to know. That he stared so long at Isabella could be no good thing, but without revealing that she could see him, Elizabeth did not know what to do.
He nodded abruptly, some decision made. What did his nod mean? Elizabeth’s heart pounded when he took a step closer to her. She swallowed and made to look at her trencher again, knowing that this otherworldly king would survey her next.
And he would realize that she could see him.
She felt him pause before her. There was silence and stillness of such intensity that Elizabeth knew he looked upon her. Finally she could stand it no longer, and flicked a glance toward the messenger, knowing she would see this Fae king when she did as much.
He had turned away, much to her relief, his gaze fixed upon the ceiling. Elizabeth looked upward and saw the glittering ribbons that rose from her and her sisters. In fact, there was a tangle of ribbons against the ceiling of the hall, rising from all the people in the hall in a glorious riot of colors. Elizabeth had learned that her ability to see these ribbons was a gift, for they indicated the bonds of true love. She had seen the ribbons of her siblings entwined with the spouses they had eventually taken. The king smiled and she knew he saw them as well.
He reached behind himself to one of his attendants, who offered a dark snake to him. Elizabeth realized that it had once been a ribbon, but now it was musty and rotten. It trailed back out the doorway, past the portal and into the night. He gave it a tug and it did not break, so it yet had an inner strength – and more than might have been assumed by appearances. Indeed, when he shook it, some of the dust fell from it, and Elizabeth could see that it had once been a rich purple.
One of his attendants took flight and seized the copper ribbon that unfurled above Isabella, presenting it to the king. He knotted them together securely, testing the st
rength of the bond, then cast them skyward together.
To what man had the king bound Isabella?
He turned and met her gaze so abruptly that Elizabeth had no chance to pretend she could not see him. Her heart stopped cold and she was snared in the shadowed depths of his gaze. His eyes seemed to draw her ever closer, pulling her into a void in which nothing mattered but the Fae king and his desires. She felt her resistance to him fade and die, felt herself start to rise to follow him.
He held up a finger and she knew he wanted her to stay.
She sat back, enthralled by him.
The king smiled at her, as if amused by her reaction. He reached up and seized her ribbon, a banner of brilliant crimson that glimmered in the light from the candles. He seemed to admire it, then turned a twinkling glance upon her as he broke it without remorse. He flung one end aside, giving the end that extended to her a little tug.
His words echoed in her thoughts, his voice so rich and melodious that she could have listened to him forever. One day, beauteous Elizabeth, you will come to me. His smile broadened. I already grow impatient. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, a yearning burgeoning within Elizabeth with just that glance.
The Fae king pivoted abruptly and returned to his steed, his cloak flaring behind him and the beast stamping in its impatience to be gone. Elizabeth could not look away from him, so greedy was she to learn all his mysteries. Who was he? Where did he go? How would she go to him – and when – without knowing who he was or where he might be found?
After he departed, she felt as if she had awakened from a long sleep. The messenger was being escorted away by Anthony and Isabella rose from the board. Elizabeth considered the ribbons overhead and knew she had to tell Isabella what she had seen.
* * *
Chapter Four
Murdoch could not sleep. The forest was alive with Fae and he did not trust them a whit. The gnarled trunks of the trees around him shifted to become faces with gaping mouths, laughing at him. He heard the scamper of small feet under the dried leaves that covered the forest floor and he knew these were not small creatures of the woods. It was Fae, dancing, laughing, dueling with pine needles, swinging from cobwebs.
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