Shadows in the Stone

by Diane Lynn McGyver

  * * *

  Shaken from brooding thoughts, Bronwyn reeled to see Wilhelm standing over the guard’s body with his sword sullied with blood. Stunned, he felt unsure if the scribe had killed in self-defence or had ruthlessly attacked an innocent man. He noticed Alaura struggling to free herself from the burden of the body and stepped forward to help.

  “Seize her!” ordered Wilhelm, pointing at Catriona. “They plotted to kill us and escape with the child! I’ll take care of this one!” He raised his sword to strike Alaura.

  Bronwyn and Alaura exchanged glances. From the split second connection, he knew Wilhelm to be wrong. He raised his sword and deflected the scribe’s weapon. Reaching down for the young woman’s hand, he jerked her to her feet and into his arm.

  “You’re protecting a traitor!” Wilhelm advanced. “We must kill them both!”

  “Alaura?” The ease of her name rolling off his tongue surprised Bronwyn; it felt as if he had said it a thousand times in the past. He searched her eyes. They appeared kind and gentle, frightened, but not ones of a traitor. Every instinct advocated her innocence.

  Alaura clung to his arm. “I could never hurt you.”

  Bronwyn raised his sword and defended her against Wilhelm’s attack. The scribe had the upper hand being higher on the stairs, but the dwarf drew him down to the level hallway.

  Catriona shrieked. Bronwyn turned to see a large, uniformed human grab her by the neck and throw her against the wall. He recognised the man as the one who had fled her dwelling the night before. The henchman struck the woman several times then snatched the monkey from her arms.

  Bronwyn felt a sharp tug at his waist and looked down in time to see Alaura seize the dagger from his belt. His heart shuddered. Had his instincts failed him?

  Alaura charged at the henchman. As she prepared to plunge the dagger into his back, he swung around and with his massive fist struck her shoulder. She hit the floor but kept her grip on the weapon. She jumped to her feet and charged again. His large size permitted him to kick out and catch her in the knee before she reached him. He punched her face, and she flew backwards into the wall.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Lord Landis’ booming voice echoed off the stone walls.

  “Wilhelm is a traitor!” shouted Bronwyn.

  Lord Landis advanced with sword drawn. “I’ll take care of him. Help the women.” The large human’s sword clashed with Wilhelm’s and drove the scribe up the stairs.

  Catriona withdrew from the battle area and crouched in a far corner to watch and to assess her wounds.

  Bronwyn stepped in as the henchman drew his sword and prepared to strike Alaura. With renewed strength, he attacked the human fighter. For several moments, they exchanged blows; the dwarf matched the fighter’s skill.

  The henchman withdrew a small flask from his pocket and threw it on the floor. It exploded, sending Bronwyn crashing into the wall. The fighter advanced.

  Alaura jumped in front of the guard, danced her fingers in the air and mumbled foreign words. The henchman swung his sword but could not penetrate the invisible protection safeguarding them.

  Surprised by her magic, Bronwyn rubbed his eyes and stared at the empty space the sword couldn’t pierce.

  “Your sword!” Alaura jerked her chin in the direction of his weapon.

  The dwarf shook the dizziness from his head and grabbed his sword.

  In his effort to break through the magic shield, the henchman lost his grip on the marmoset. Isla hit the floor and darted down the hallway. The henchman chased her, with Alaura and Bronwyn in pursuit.

  It took several minutes before the fighter caught up with the racing marmoset. When he did, he grabbed it by the back of the neck. Isla squealed and scratched and bit the human.

  Bronwyn slid to a halt, swinging his sword before the henchman had a chance to make a proper stance. The sword struck his shoulder and the man reeled in pain. Isla dropped to the floor and again ran from her captor.

  When Catriona caught up, she slipped past the sword fight and followed Isla.

  The henchman made several attempts to connect with his sword, but his wound had weakened his swing. Bronwyn gathered his strength and delivered blow after blow, backing his opponent against the stone wall. He focussed on each swing and anticipated the next. Years of practise in his backyard and his training as a guard had prepared him for this battle.

  The fighter lost ground. As the confidence in his enemy’s eyes slipped, the hunger to serve the final blow invigorated Bronwyn. He attacked relentlessly, delivering the lethal strikes that dropped the henchman to his knees.

  Bronwyn paused, his adrenalin waning as he watched his opponent’s eyes roll into his head. The body swaggered a moment before collapsing to the floor. The guard eased the death grip on his sword. It unnerved him to take a life, but he understood the necessity of it…at times.

  Alaura stared in awe, obviously impressed with Bronwyn’s skill. Then a peculiar expression appeared and she shuddered.

  Bronwyn caught her studying him as he regained his breath. Besides her frazzled appearance and cut below her right eye, she seemed fine. Her deep breathing caused her bosom to gently rise and fall, drawing his eyes to the soft hollow between her breasts. A button appeared to have broken off in the scuffle, revealing soft curves of delicate skin. His blood warmed and the tiny hairs on his ears pricked. He swallowed hard, realising his gaze had lingered too long. He quickly looked at the stone wall. “Thank you for casting the spell to protect me.” His voice sounded gentler than he expected. He looked back at her. “You risked your life for mine.”

  “It’s I who must thank you for seeing the truth. I’m not a traitor.” She pulled the top of her shirt closed and fastened a button.

  “I know.” He forced himself to look away though her eyes attempted to hold his gaze. “I knew you couldn’t kill me.” He glanced at the dagger in her hand. “But you almost had me doubting.” He held out his hand for his weapon.

  “Don’t.” Alaura returned the dagger. “I spoke the truth.”

  “It’s not wise to stake your life on blind trust.”

  “But you’re not blind.”

  Bronwyn nodded and sheathed the dagger. Until today, he had never stood within twenty feet of Alaura of Niamh. It surprised him, the details he’d missed at a distance. Looking at her now, he saw the subtle differences: the curve of her cheek bone, the upward angle to the outside of the eye, the sharpness of her ears and the defined shape of her lips.

  He thought back to the first time he’d seen her. He had passed through the bakery to his dwelling upstairs—he still lived at home then. As he entered the backroom, he thought he had seen a person talking with his mum on the far end of the shop. He stepped backwards and craned his neck to learn their identity. For a moment he stared at the woman. She appeared new to Maskil or at least not from this end of town.

  She must have felt his stare because her eyes left his mum and settled on him. Her expression softened and her mouth curved into a gentle smile. A light he’d never seen before shimmered in her eyes. It triggered a sensation in his chest which until then lay dormant.

  From that moment onward, Bronwyn looked for Alaura in the bakery, on the street and at every place he visited. Strange how she possessed the ability to capture and hold his attention.

  Pulling himself from his memories, he noticed Alaura uncomfortable under his stare. With her lips slightly parted and her brow in a quizzical angle, she watched him.

  “I’m sorry for putting you on the spot,” she said. “I thought you had paid attention to Lord Val. He had asked you to verify the fact I knew Catriona. I assumed you could since you had seen us together in the bakery.”

  Bronwyn bit his lip. He could have easily answered the question if she hadn’t distracted him. “You’re not to blame. I should have followed the conversation. I was thinking of someone—something else.”

  “It’s been a trying twenty-four hours for many of us.” Alaura looked down the hallway.
“We should see to Catriona and Isla.” She stepped over the pool of blood, seeping from the body sprawled at their feet.

  Bronwyn followed in silence. Fortunately, he had blindly trusted her. His blood ran cold when he thought of what Wilhelm had ordered him to do. The murder of Alaura of Niamh by his hand would have destroyed him.

  Catriona rushed to Alaura and grasped her shoulders. “Is he dead?”

  Alaura nodded and steadied her teacher. “Where’s Isla?”

  “She’s in here, but it’s too dark to see.”

  Bronwyn walked past the women. “Alaura, go along the wall. I’ll search this side.” Compared to other rooms in the castle, this one seemed cavernous. He’d not entered this room before but knew it to be the quarters of Lilja, the missing sacred dragon.

  Expansive tapestries depicting scenes around Maskil draped the walls. The large doors leading to the outside balcony where Lilja entered, and a tall window, remained locked from the inside. The single torch by the door illuminated only a small space. Once Bronwyn’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw only one place to hide: behind a large stone orb in the far corner.

  As he approached, he looked from one side to the other, hoping to catch a glimpse of the monkey. He stopped when he saw a hairy foot. Kneeling, he whispered in Hauflin, “Isla, the danger has passed.” When the foot didn’t move, he edged closer until he saw a pair of big brown eyes staring back at him. He stopped near enough to touch but made no motion to do so. Instead, he lay on his stomach and watched her crouch in the shadows. “You’re safe. No one will harm you.” The henchman’s blood soiled Bronwyn’s blade because of her. Take a life to save a life. He killed for only one reason.

  He found it hard to imagine this monkey as a child. The transformation appeared perfect. Still, he sensed she understood every spoken word as if an intelligent being. He slid his arm towards her. As he did, he hummed a melody he often hummed to his sister’s child.

  Isla mimicked him.

  Bronwyn rested his hand beside her foot. She touched one of his fingers, and he relaxed as the monkey explored the palm of his hand. She circled a large callus then traced a deep skin line to his thumb.

  “Come to me.” Bronwyn spoke soft and low. “You can trust me.”

  Isla stopped humming and stared at him. He made no quick moves, no attempts to grab her. She inched forward until she rested in his palm. He pushed himself to his knees before cradling her in his arms.

  Turning, Bronwyn saw Alaura and Catriona staring at him. He flushed, embarrassed at his display of tenderness designed to wheedle the child from the shadows.

  Catriona squinted past Bronwyn to the object in the shadows. “What’s this?” She stepped forward. The object measured almost her height.

  “It looks like an egg,” said Alaura.

  “I think it’s a stone orb,” said Bronwyn.

  “Whose room is this?” Catriona reached out to touch the orb but hesitated.

  Bronwyn wondered if she had fallen under a spell. “This is Lilja’s room.”

  “The sacred dragon’s room? Her orb?” Catriona spoke in a hushed voice, placing her open palm on the stone.

  Bronwyn remembered seeing a similar orb on the tapestry in the Private Audience room. This orb didn’t have a yellow glow or butterfly wings, but otherwise appeared to be the same.

  “It’s cracked.” Catriona sounded disappointed.

  Alaura stepped forward to better see the cleft. She guided her finger along the jagged edge running from the top of the orb to about the mid-way point. It spread wide enough to accommodate her slender finger and just as deep.

  Bronwyn placed a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him. “Only authorized guards are permitted to enter this room,” he said. “We must leave.”

  “Don’t you wonder what this might be?” she asked.

  “I do, but my orders are clear.”

  “What is this?” Catriona moved to where Isla had hidden. The others joined her, and she pointed to markings on the orb. “It’s too dark for me to read but perhaps you can?” She looked at Bronwyn.

  He and Alaura examined the three symbols scrolled across the mid-section of the orb. They exhibited the same symbols as on the tapestry.

  “What do you make of it?” he asked her.

  “Don’t be silly,” said Catriona. “She can see no better than I.”

  Bronwyn raised questioning brows at Alaura. In cant, a voice inaudible to humans, he asked, “Can you read it?”

  “I think I can see enough,” said Alaura in her normal voice. “It’s not written in a language I’m familiar with. It might be Dragon.”

  Bronwyn leant forward to see if more etchings appeared in the stone. At the same time, Alaura laid her hand on the orb. The three symbols glowed with a soft green light.

  Catriona pulled her apprentice’s hand away, but the symbols continued to glow.

  “It’s not me,” said Alaura. “It’s Isla.”

  The three stared at the child who remained mesmerized by the illuminated symbols.

  Bronwyn heard a noise in the hallway and removed the monkey’s hand from the orb. The glow disappeared. “Not a word. Follow me.” He crept towards the door with Isla tucked into the crook of his right arm. With his left hand, he withdrew his sword from the scabbard.

  “Bronwyn!” Farlan spotted the dwarf as he entered the hallway. “Is everyone okay?”

  Lord Val and two castle guards followed close behind. They stopped at the body sprawled across the floor.

  “We’re fine, Private.” Bronwyn walked clear of Lilja’s room. Alaura and Catriona followed.

  “Was he the only intruder?” asked Lord Val.

  “I believe so, My Lord,” said Bronwyn. “He wanted the child. It appears he and Wilhelm worked together.”

  The lord rubbed his temple, squinting as if absorbing a sharp head pain. “It is in these days of strife we require loyalty, yet we seem to find only traitors.”

  Bronwyn sheathed his sword and covered Isla’s eyes as he passed the corpse.

  “Guards, search the body to see if anything useful can be discovered,” ordered Lord Val. “Corporal, is this Keiron Ruckle’s issue?”

  “It is.”

  “Let me hold her.”

  When he reached for Isla she darted up Bronwyn’s sleeve and curled around his neck. She clung to him with all her strength.

  “Ouch!” Bronwyn clenched his teeth as her sharp claws pierced his vest and entered his flesh. “She’s terrified.” He stepped away to see if Isla would ease her grip. To his relief, she withdrew her claws.

  Lord Val studied the marmoset intensely with wide eyes. Bronwyn thought he’d reach up and snatch it from his shoulder. Then as if a cloud sailed across the sun, Lord Val’s expression relaxed.

  “Are we to return to the Private Audience Room, My Lord?” asked Bronwyn.

  “We will reconvene at first light. The castle is being searched for further intruders.” He licked his dry lips. “Return Miss Wheatcroft and her nearest next-of-kin to their temporary quarters. Post a guard inside the room and two to secure the door. Every precaution must be taken for their safety. I’ll leave the duty to you, Corporal.”

  “Am I not permitted to leave?” asked Alaura.

  Lord Val looked down at her. “You, Miss Alaura, are a witness to this evening’s events. You’ll remain and give your account at the inquest.”

  Bronwyn spoke up. “Given the circumstances and the time of day, you’d be safer if you stayed.” He knew if she refused, she’d be held in the dungeon ‘til morning.

  They exchanged glances, and after a moment’s consideration, she spoke. “I will stay.”

  “The sword!” One of the guards shouted in disgust.

  The men searching the body stepped away from it. The blood surrounding the weapon foamed and hissed. Small eruptions sent puffs of warm fousty gas into the air. The odour spewing from the blood smelt of pus from a festering sore.

  Alaura stepped closer. “The sword possesse
s wicked magic.” She glanced at Bronwyn as if to re-evaluate his skill.

  Bronwyn had witnessed a similar blood reaction before, but what had caused it eluded him. During the incident, a dagger used by a henchman to kill a guard had foamed and hissed with the same stench when it had fallen into the killer’s pool of blood.

  “Corporal, remove the women from here,” said Lord Val. “Assist him, Private. The rest of you, take care of this mess.” He waved his hand in disgust over the bloody scene.

  “Private.” Bronwyn gestured for Farlan to lead the way. He motioned for Catriona and Alaura to follow as he carried Isla. Looking back, he watched the lord step past the body and into the threshold of Lilja’s room. He looked in the direction of the orb and raised one hand as if pushing a door open. Before turning a corner, Bronwyn swore he saw a flash of light emanate from the lord’s palm and disappear into the shadows.