After one such incident, Gráinne tossed Tell’s words back at him. “Handsome and strong though you might be, your clumsiness is typical of your kind.”
Lan laughed.
Tell nodded in concession and chuckled, “Ouch. At least you find me handsome and strong.” He smirked.
Lan yanked on the end of the rope.
As they climbed the mountain path, Gráinne kept looking toward the northern sea until she saw all four of the other men in the small boat rowing back to the ship. Maybe they are going back for reinforcements.
“Most likely,” Lan said.
Tell looked warily at Lan, and Gráinne laughed.
When they arrived at the castle, Gráinne said, “Take him to the study and tie him to a chair.”
While Lan handled his unusual task, Gráinne went into the kitchen to find Caera working as she normally would. “We have a . . . guest. Be wary and watch for anyone approaching. If the castle is breached, get as far from here as you possibly can.” She nodded toward the exterior door.
Although Caera looked alarmed when she saw the sword in Gráinne’s hand, she nodded in response. “Yes ma’am.”
“Will you please bring some food and drink to the study for our guest?”
“Of course, ma’am. Right away.”
Gráinne smiled and turned to leave and then stopped and looked back at the cook. “Gráinne. My name is Gráinne.” She couldn’t leave without addressing the obvious concern on Caera’s face. The two still had not spoken of what Slyxx had done to the cook on the night before his departure, and Gráinne wasn’t going to force that discussion, but at least she could offer some comfort for what she could control. No, for what she had to control. “It is going to be right again soon, Caera. We are going to be right again soon. I promise.”
“I know, ma . . . Gráinne,” Caera replied. “I will bring enough for two.”
Gráinne smiled. “Thank you.” She hesitated before leaving. “Oh, and no knives.”
Lan had tied Tell Bravin to the chair by the time Gráinne arrived in her husband’s study and announced, “The Marquis has dispatched soldiers. I do hope your men stay aboard the ship.” She turned to Lan, who was standing in the same at ease position she’d seen him in when last they’d been in the study, though this time he looked on edge, prepared to attack. She wondered if he could hear Tell’s thoughts, too. “The Marquis wishes to see you.” Please close and bolt the courtyard gates, Lan.
Lan turned and left the room without a word.
“Despite all appearances,” Gráinne began, looking at the ropes clasping Tell’s chest to the chair’s back, “we are not rude to our guests. The cook is preparing food for you.”
“Thank you, Marquessa,” Tell replied. “I take it there is something you wish to discuss?”
Gráinne took a seat in her husband’s chair and placed Tell’s sword on the floor beside her.
The gates to the courtyard creaked as they closed, and the sound of the enormous beam securing the gates groaned as it slid into place.
“Yes. There is,” she said just as her guard returned and positioned himself beside the open door. “You need supplies. We need a ship and crew.”
CHAPTER NINE
Cats and Mice
Lan’s eyes widened. “Marquessa, before you continue, may I see you outside for one moment, please? The Marquis has a message he has asked me to deliver to you . . . in private. It is urgent, I am afraid.”
Gráinne stood still. The Kathan would try to stop her from leaving. That much she knew to be certain. She was less certain she could accomplish her goal without his help. She would have to humor him until she got him out of Tell’s hearing range.
From behind Tell’s back, Lan glared at Gráinne and tilted his head insistently toward the door.
“If you will excuse me,” Gráinne said as she rose and walked out of the study and down the hallway. Lan followed her.
“Keep your voice down,” she said pre-emptively.
Lan whispered in a suppressed scream. “Are you mad, woman? We are not getting on a ship with those men! They are nothing short of warring thugs. They will slit your throat and mine, too, and then toss us overboard and come back and take whatever they wish.”
“I agree they are thugs, but they are greedy thugs and in need of something we have.”
“I will not even ask what that might be, but you and I both know that once they have it, we will be dead!”
“Shhhh!! Then they will not have it until we are safely where we need to be.”
Lan rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. “Will you stop being stubborn? There is no way we are boarding that ship with those men. I forbid it. Master forbids it!”
Gráinne arched an eyebrow. The critical moment had arrived. She would have to call his bluff or give up hope of leaving. She chose her words carefully. “I intend to board that ship. You can come with me or not, but I will strike a bargain with this Tell Bravin, and I will board that ship and go wherever I need to go to get the help I need, and if you intend to stop me, you will have to kill me and them, however many they might be.”
At that moment, Caera appeared at the top of the staircase. Approaching the pair with a tray bearing a platter of food, a jug, and two goblets, she stopped as she and the tray aligned with Lan. “And me.”
Both Lan and Gráinne blinked.
Lan hissed. “What did you say?”
Caera swallowed and straightened her shoulders. “I said . . . Master Lan, you will have to kill me, too.”
Tears welled in Gráinne’s eyes, and words suddenly felt meaningless.
“And if you do that, you will be left to deal with the warriors on your own,” Gráinne added.
Lan snapped his lips shut. He turned and started back toward the study, mumbling, “By thugs or Master matters not. Dead is dead. Stupid women will get all of us killed.”
Gráinne composed herself and smiled gratefully at Caera, who cleared her throat and proceeded stoically down the hallway with the tray. Gráinne followed.
Upon entering the study, Gráinne unbound Tell’s chest. “That should give you sufficient ability to eat,” she said.
Tell nodded and looked toward the platter of food but didn’t reach for any.
“I assure you it is not poisoned,” Gráinne said, reaching for a slice of meat. She chewed and swallowed it before picking up a chunk of baked pear, which she wallowed in her mouth until she’d sucked the tartness from it. When she’d finished savoring the pear, she filled the two goblets with oak-scented wine and took a long gulp to quench her thirst. “Caera’s cooking skills are second to none.”
The smells from the platter filled the room, and Tell eyed the food. Finally, he gave in to the temptation and reached for the roasted meat sliced and stacked neatly on the platter. He had barely chewed it before he swallowed and reached for more.
“Are your warriors this famished, as well?” Gráinne asked, baiting Tell.
“We have made do with the supplies we have,” Tell replied but continued to eat ravenously. “None this tasty, of course.”
He did not deny they are warriors. “Then why stop here?”
Tell chewed the meat in his mouth and eyed Gráinne. “Where is it you want to go?” he asked before taking another bite.
“Where there are strong men and crafty women who want to resettle land that has . . . ,” she began but hesitated as she searched for the right combination of words, “become available.”
“What does that mean?” Tell laughed.
“It means I have property and need carpenters, craftsmen, and farmers to settle it. There are some buildings in need of . . . repair.”
Tell laughed. “Are you talking about the island to the west? We saw it as we passed. It looks like the place was raided.”
Gráinne couldn’t see any reason to lie. “Mercenaries. Now, we are ready to rebuild.”
***
For what seemed like an eternity, Tell eyed Gráinne and mentally ticked off
what he’d learned or felt reasonably confident he knew. The husband had probably died, along with his soldiers, during the raid. To the west lay a wasteland, but one with potential. The island they were on was bountiful and probably had women they could take back and sell as slaves. The Marquessa was desperate for help. The creature guarding her likely had skills he hadn’t shown. Otherwise, the woman wouldn’t have exhibited such confidence. Either that or she was delusional. Finally, he spoke, “And what is in this for me and mine?”
***
Gráinne took an equal amount of time to answer. “I will give you the supplies you need to get us to a port where we can recruit settlers. And upon our safe return, I will deed you and your men land fit for farming and animals.”
“We are warriors, hunters, and traders, not farmers.”
Tell practically spewed out the last word, clearly laden with an obvious disdain that Gráinne didn’t quite understand, but he finally had used the word she’d expected to hear. So they are, indeed, warriors.
“Then, you will have a place for your homes and families and free range to hunt and fish if that is what you wish.”
“And we control the trade in the port.”
Her father had taught her that silence was the strongest tool of keen negotiation, and Gráinne wielded the tool for several minutes. She busied her mind counting while her gaze remained fixed on Tell, and she waited for his discomfort to break the silence.
“Well?” he questioned impatiently.
Gráinne glanced at Lan. “Pen the agreement.”
She broke her glance and rose from the chair before Lan could express his disapproval. Raising her hand to head height, she examined her slender fingers. Slowly, her hand became thicker and white fur grew out of its pores. From her fingertips, claws began to extrude, lengthening and becoming sharper as they replaced her neatly manicured nails. She turned her gaze back toward Tell, taking slow steps to reposition herself between him and the desk. Taking care not to scratch deeply enough to scar him, she trailed the claw down the side of his face and neck.
***
Tell sat perfectly still the whole while the woman, or whatever she was, raked her nails, or whatever they hell the claws at the end of her fingers were, down his face and neck.
***
Tell’s expression was fixed somewhere between confusion and terror. Good. That is how I like it. From the corner of his left eye, he followed her claws’ downward motion. Just a little farther. When Gráinne placed her paw on his shoulder, she curled the digits so that the tips of the claws pierced Tell’s leather vest.
***
Tell swallowed hard. The Marquessa bent forward, her face directly in front of his.
***
Gráinne stared into Tell’s eyes so he would have no option but to watch what was about to happen. She let her eyelids droop to a close.
***
When the Marquessa opened her eyelids, Tell found himself staring into the eyes of a cat.
A vicious snarl rippled up the woman’s throat, splashing hot air against Tell’s face. No. Something bigger than a cat.
Tell had no saliva to swallow.
***
Gráinne could smell the fear that always oozed from prey. She was certain it was more than that, though. It smelled different than the fear of death. It smelled like fear of the unknown. She’d bet he’d never seen a Shifter. Good. That will work in my favor. Now let me give you something you will not forget. She leaned in close to his ear and flexed her claws deeper into the leather.
Drawing from memory the tone Slyxx used, the one leaving no doubt the boundaries of his violence and cruelty were limitless and his threats not idle ones, she whispered hoarsely, “If you dishonour our agreement, human warrior, I will feed the scraps of your shredded carcass to the wolves and place your handsome head on a pike.” She exhaled slowly, her hot breath splashing against his skin.
Her lungs empty, her chest burned, but she held the pose. What have I just done?
***
Tell sat rooted to the chair. He’d never heard a woman speak to him that way, but then, this was no woman. She was something else. His brain didn’t know what that something else was, but his twisted gut told him she meant what she said.
Tell Bravin suddenly understood why the mouse played dead under the cat’s claw.
CHAPTER TEN
Distance
“Put that down and listen to me!” Lan’s exasperation spewed out. “Despite all logic and reasoning, you simply will not hear what you do not want to hear!”
Gráinne frowned at Lan and continued to sift through a trunk of scrolls. She glanced toward Caera, who was folding a gown to place in another chest. “Not that one or any of the frilly ones. Simple gowns and riding clothes.”
Lan rolled his eyes. “This is useless. You are not going to change your mind. If you must do this, at least use your head. Do you think total strangers will talk to a woman dressed in rags?”
Gráinne stopped digging in the trunk and then said, “A careful balance, no? Too rich and regal will draw undue attention from seedy characters. Too plain and poor will not encourage cooperation.”
No other thoughts. “At least you are thinking more strategically.” He waited to see if she would convert strategy to action.
Caera stopped folding the gown. “We do not have much time. I still need to pack cooking supplies and food and. . . .” Her voice trailed off, her brow wrinkling.
Both Gráinne and Lan looked at her.
Gráinne dropped the scroll case into the trunk and approached Caera, taking the half-folded gown from her hands. “You do not have to go if you prefer to stay,” she said.
Caera harrumphed. “They would throw you overboard after the first meal you cooked.”
Despite his previous protests and serious concerns, Lan saw humor in the image of Gráinne’s lanky torso flopping onto a breaking wave. He burst into laughter.
Gráinne feigned a pout. “It is not that bad!”
“I will pack the kitchen goods. You worry about your own clothing,” Caera replied matter of factly. She disappeared down the staircase laughing as she impersonated Gráinne, “It is not that bad!”
Gráinne went back to digging through the scroll cases.
“How long will we be gone?” the Kathan asked.
“One moon, maybe a moon and a half,” she replied as she continued rummaging through the trunk.
Lan left Gráinne’s chambers counting on his fingers and mumbling, “There and back, maybe two moons. No, that is not correct. Two weeks . . . no three.”
The next morning passed in a flurry of activity. Lan and Caera barked at each other as they packed necessities. Thankfully, Lan didn’t have to dart around Gráinne, too. She stayed in her room and packed. The warrior who would probably slit their throats in their sleep behaved himself, eating and sleeping in Lan’s windowless chamber, which the Kathan had declared the safest place to keep him. Aside from the cushions on the floor, the only other thing in the room was clothing. No weapons. Nothing that could be turned into a weapon. They would be safe with him locked in the room while the other three worked.
“I have to go to the cave before we leave,” Gráinne said as she appeared with two lumpy sacks slung over her shoulder.
Her face wears concern . . . or the bags are heavy. What are you hiding, woman? “Why?” asked Lan.
She sighed. “I have to leave something there.”
You are purposefully not thinking. “You cannot go alone, and we cannot take the prisoner with us.”
“Then, you may come with me to the cave if you must, but I cannot leave until I have been there. We can avoid being spotted from the ship and get to the cave and back in a few hours if you can keep up.”
“Hah! I can keep up if you will stop trying to sneak away!”
“I promise not to sneak away.”
She means it. “You saddle the horses while I let Caera know where we will be and what to do if you are wrong and the warriors
kill us before we make it down the mountain.”
They made the trip to the southern cave without incident. Though Lan listened to Gráinne’s thoughts, none of them offered a hint at what was in the sacks. When they arrived at the cave, Gráinne dismounted.
“I have to go in alone,” she said.
“That was not part of our bargain.”
“You are right. Our bargain was that you would come with me to the cave.”
Lan thought back to the conversation. Of course. That was exactly what she said, and she said it that way on purpose. She tricked me! “No. I forbid it.”
“Then we will stand here until the warriors come, and we will die. They will pick us off like highwaymen from the woods.”
Lan’s temper flared. He hated when she forced his hand. That was what his Master did, and Lan resented it from all quarters. He hadn’t asked for this. He glared at Gráinne. “Ask.”
The woman’s face curled up in befuddlement.
“Ask, and I will stay here while you go inside.”
Gráinne untied the sacks and slung them over her shoulder. “Will you kindly remain here and watch out for highwaymen until I return from the cave?”
“Yes.”
Gráinne spun around and headed toward the brambles. She whispered something and made a motion in front of her that Lan couldn’t see, and then she disappeared into the cave. Lan caught the sound of water barely dripping before the brambles closed behind his ward. Enchanted. Interesting.
More quickly than the previous visit, Gráinne emerged from the cave and mounted her horse.
“You were not in there for long,” said Lan, suppressing a grin.
“Work remains.”
“That is all you have to say?” The first thought she’d had of anything not trivial since she’d appeared with the sacks came to Lan as a seething whisper. “And my work does not involve trying to understand the wisdom of a Goddess who has yet to give me a straight answer.”
The Dragon Writers Collection Page 110