“Is this some kind of trick?” Lord Fendrikanin asked.
“Mind your manners!” Baruq snapped. “You are well come, Herre Valender. Welcome, indeed.”
“No,” Ragni said, stepping toward her. “This is no trick.” He pulled off one mitten and gently touched Saeun’s cheek with his fingertips. “You’re real.”
Saeun couldn’t stop herself. His touch felt too good. A small choked whimper escaped her throat and she turned her face into the curve of his hand.
The next instant his arms were around her and he lifted her off the ground, his face buried in her neck. “Oh, Gods!” he groaned. “You’re alive! You’re alive!” He held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t need to—as long as he held her.
Ragni pulled back just enough to kiss her forehead, her eyes, her temple, her lips. His mouth lingered on hers and she drank him in, feeling as though the essence of her life had just been restored.
Saeun slid against him as Ragni put her down. Even bundled against the cold, her body yearned for his. Ragni framed her face with his hands. Wonder and joy glowed in his eyes and he seemed completely unaware of the tears running down his face and into his beard. He kissed her again.
“You’re not angry, then?” she asked when the kiss ended.
Ragni’s eyes widened and his hands fell to her shoulders. “Baldur’s Balls, woman!” he said, giving her a small shake. “I should be! Gods! What possessed you to go out into that storm alone?”
“It wasn’t storming when I left. And I wasn’t alone,” she protested. “I had Gert.”
“An elderly lady’s maid?” Ragni scoffed. “Some chaperon. She let you come out with these …people …alone?”
A flash of anger lifted her chin. “She’s dead. The Dark Elves killed her.” Brave, steadfast Gert. Who didn’t deserve anyone’s disdain.
“Oh, gods. I’m sorry.” Concern narrowed his eyes, and she forgave him. Ragni pulled her close for a moment, then lifted her face with a hand under her chin. “But why didn’t you come to me?”
Saeun swallowed and blinked as tears ran down her face.
Ragni closed his eyes and tilted his head back. The muscles in his jaw jumped once, twice. “Never mind. I’m sorry.” He looked her in the eye again. “I know why you thought you couldn’t ask for my help. But I would have helped you. I wanted to.”
“That’s why I couldn’t,” she whispered.
Ragni pulled her close again. “I know, love.”
“This is all very touching, but it’s frippin’ cold and this blizzard isn’t going to wait on us,” someone said from the vicinity of Saeun’s kneecap.
Saeun looked down at a small, somewhat wrinkled, man-like creature. Then she became aware that everyone was watching her reunion with Ragni with unabashed interest.
“Peace, Baruq,” Valender said. “We’ll wait out the storm here.”
“I thought you didn’t feel the cold,” said an armsman Saeun didn’t recognize.
“Even I have my limits.”
*
Celia sniffed and blinked back tears. Not so long ago she would have been envious of Saeun having someone feel that strongly for her. Now she had that, and more. She could go home again, back to Dahleven’s arms. There was only heartache and separation ahead for Ragni and Saeun.
Suddenly Celia remembered who else was watching. Oh, no! Utta. She’d witnessed the whole emotional reunion in living color. Celia glanced quickly at Ragni’s betrothed, trying to gauge the damage done.
Utta was smiling. Not the reaction Celia expected, even if theirs was an arranged marriage.
Are customs that different here? She’d thought she’d begun to understand the way things worked in Nuvinland, the way people fit together and why. Now she wasn’t so sure. For a second, cold fear grasped her heart. If she didn’t understand Utta’s feelings for Ragni, maybe she didn’t understand the way Dahleven felt about her, either.
No. Dahleven had chosen her. And the Dream-door had shown her clearly what he felt.
Still, she didn’t understand Utta’s reaction.
Celia looked at Ragni. He looked stricken, embarrassed. Then his brows drew together and his expression eased.
“I am the Shaman of the Butterfly Clan of the Tewakwe,” Che’veyo said. “Thank you for hearing our prayers.”
“Lady Saeun’s vision showed us you were in need.” Valender’s smile revealed sharp white teeth.
He’s quite beautiful, if you like the feral look. Celia glanced around. None of her companions seemed to notice the Elves’ teeth or their cat-like pupils, and she knew they must be using a glamour. Glamour that her Fey-marked eyes saw through. What she couldn’t see was any harm in their camouflage. Okay. I won’t be the one to spoil the party.
Valender looked Celia in the eye and inclined his head, as if in acknowledgment.
He knows I can see him as he is. He also apparently knew that she wasn’t going to give him away.
Then Valender pulled two pahos from inside his cloak and handed them to Che’veyo. “Your prayers helped us find you quickly. Redbird, and Treskin here, showed us the way.” Che’veyo nodded his thanks to Valender and tucked away the prayer sticks.
Celia’s legs trembled and she looked for a place to sit down.
Fender stepped forward. “You may want to wait out the storm here, but we can’t. There’s no shelter here, and the women are half-frozen already!”
Celia found a rock and plopped down on it. Fender was right. She was half-frozen and bone tired. But even if by some miracle there was shelter not far from here, she didn’t know if she had the strength to get to it.
“That can be remedied,” Valender said. “You men, go out and gather wood, but only deadfall. We will gather the trees.”
Gather the trees?
Rovdir shook his head. “I don’t take orders from you. We don’t know much of anything about you, and what we do know isn’t all that good. I’m not going off into the woods and leaving Lady Utta and the other women here alone with you.”
“You have no reason to believe me,” Saeun said, “but you are safe with Valender and his people. They have treated me with kindness and courtesy. They saved my life.”
“Did they?” Ragni asked.
“Yes. Treskin shot Edelstena, the Dark Elf who attacked me, before she could take me into the ground, and Valender healed me.”
“Healed you!” Ragni’s gaze scoured Saeun. “What happened?”
“I’m all right! It’s all over now. But they did save me, and we can trust them.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Treskin interrupted. “The snow is growing thicker as we speak. Gather the wood and then you can all have a nice long chat.”
Rovdir looked like he was going to balk, but Fender forestalled him. “They have offered us no insult, armsman. Besides, what are our alternatives? Freeze? Fight? Do you think you could win against such as them? Let’s gather that wood.”
Rovdir growled, “Yes, my lord.”
Fender stopped close by Celia before he left and whispered, “Keep your dagger at hand, my lady, until I return.” He glanced at Ragni and wry humor curved his lips. “Would you stay here with the ladies, my lord?” He’d obviously come to the same conclusion that Celia had. There was no way in hell that Ragni would leave Saeun’s side anytime soon.
“Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” Utta said with a small smirk.
“Lady Saeun, will you help us?” Valender asked.
“Me?”
Valender smiled. “You seem to have a rapport with the tree-folk,” he said. “If you would go around the circle and wake them, we will be sheltered sooner.”
“Saeun?” Ragni said.
Saeun shrugged and looked doubtful, but she went to the closest tree and pulled off her mitten. Laying her bare hand upon the bark, she called out, “Hello! I am Saeun Lyndsdatter. Would you wake and help us, please?”
Nothing happened that Celia could see. Saeun looked at Valender, who nodded encour
agement. Saeun moved to the next tree and repeated her request.
Ragni watched, eyebrows lifted. Celia glanced again at Utta. She didn’t look horrified at this unsanctioned new ability of Saeun’s. She looked fascinated.
Curiouser and curiouser. I have got to get to know Utta better.
As Saeun completed the round of the small circle, the four Elves followed her, each touching a tree and murmuring softly. Three moved on after a moment, but one, Rien, remained next to the tree she’d first touched.
“Valender?” Rien looked disgruntled.
Valender left the tree he seemed to be talking to and went to her. “Rien?”
“I can’t do what that mortal did!” she complained in a whisper.
Celia felt her heart quicken. Her lips didn’t move.
“For some it is a gift, for others it takes practice. Listen.” Valender put her hand back on the tree and placed his own over hers as he murmured to the tree too softly for Celia to hear.
Neither did his.
“What are they doing?” Utta asked in a soft voice.
“I don’t know,” Ragni said.
They can’t hear them. Five months ago, the Elves in the Cavern had spoken to her without words. But they’d intended for her to hear them, then. Apparently the effects of “seeing” through the Elves’ glamour were greater than she’d thought.
“They command the tree spirits,” Tiva’ti said.
Celia glanced sharply at her. Did she hear them too, or did she just have a different understanding of the Elves? And how could she find out without tipping her hand?
“Command them? To do what?”
Tiva’ti just shook her head.
Rien nodded. “I think I see now,” she said. Then they both stepped onward to other trees.
When the Elves had traversed nearly the full circle Utta asked, “Are the trees moving?”
Ragni looked around and nodded. The trees were moving closer together, weaving their branches together overhead, shaking loose bits of accumulated snow down upon them.
A grue of nervous excitement run down Celia’s back.
“Saeun, should we be worried?” Ragni asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. The trees have always been kind and helpful to me.”
“Trees? Helpful?” Ragni sputtered.
Saeun turned a nervous look at him, then swallowed and squared her shoulders. “Yes, the trees. I’ve met some interesting folk since I fled Quartzholm. People who have been good to me, even though I’m mortal and they are Fey. People who respect what I can do.”
Ragni opened and then shut his mouth.
Utta stepped forward and took Saeun’s hands. “Thank Baldur you did! We were in a difficult situation when you and your friends arrived. Thank you for your help.”
Ragni looked from Utta to Saeun and back again.
“I’m Lady Utta, by the way. Lord Ragni’s betrothed.”
Celia watched Saeun’s expression freeze with shock.
“No!” Utta shook Saeun’s hands a little. “I am glad Ragni has your love, and I am glad to know you.”
Celia watched Ragni read first one, then the other. The poor bastard looked dumbfounded and bewildered. He was outnumbered. She suppressed a smile. He’s had it so easy with women for so long. He’s not going to know what hit him.
*
Ragni sat on his blankets next to Utta, a little apart from where most of the others slept. Though the Elves had volunteered to stand guard, Rovdir and Fender were taking shifts, too. Neither of them could trust their security entirely to the Fey. The snow still fell, but they were snug in the shelter of the gathered trees. Trees which now stood shoulder to shoulder and had arched their branches and woven them into a nearly solid canopy. And Saeun had been the one who awakened them. The fact of it still astonished him. But now was not the time to think of that. Utta sat next to him, and she deserved his full attention.
“I meant you no disrespect,” he said. “By my behavior. With Saeun, I mean.”
Utta smiled. “I understand. And I’m sure you know that I’m not upset.”
“I do.” Ragni shook his head as he took Utta’s hand. “I’m amazed and grateful for your generosity to Saeun.” Though no one stood guard close by, Ragni kept his voice low.
“Amazed? Did you expect me to condemn her for using magic to save us from the storm?”
She meant it. She didn’t fault Saeun at all. He was surprised to find himself feeling defensive.
“No. Well, that too, perhaps. A lot of people would. But I guess that I expected you to feel some jealousy, even if ours is an arranged union.”
“Did you really think me that petty?”
Baldur’s Balls. He wasn’t usually this inept with women. “No! Of course not!” Seeing Saeun again must have addled his mind.
Utta searched his face as though she wished she had the Talent for Empathy. He could see her only dimly in the firelight but he felt her emotions clearly enough. She hadn’t been upset when he began his apology, but she was starting to be. I’m mucking this up.
“I hope not,” she said. “In Freya’s name! How selfish do you think me? I expect you to take an elskerinne. Dear Lady, I pray you do!”
She was telling the truth. The unvarnished truth. It wasn’t her fault that it stung.
“I will do my duty by you, and give you as many sons as you require, but you’re a good man, Ragni. You should have someone who lies in your arms out of pleasure and desire.”
“Well I hope you will find some pleasure in our bed!”
Utta laughed. “Don’t look so injured. I’m sure your Talent and your vast experience will allow me to enjoy the making of our babies, even if you are a man.”
“What?”
Fear shafted through her as a look of horror swept over her face. “I thought you …You said…”
Understanding flashed through him. Gods, he was slow tonight. Had been slow for days. She prefers women. She hadn’t been looking at him the other day when she’d felt that flare of desire. She’d been looking at Tiva’ti.
Ragni ran his hand over his face. Could his assumption have been any more arrogant? No, he wouldn’t castigate himself for that. It was only natural that he think, that he expect his betrothed would desire him.
He’d heard of such women, of course. They usually did their duty by their husbands, just as Utta had promised, and took their pleasure elsewhere. At least I needn’t worry that Utta will bring home another man’s get in her belly.
Ragni took a deep breath and blew out a cloud of mist, trying to settle his emotions enough to read her. She was the daughter of a Jarl, after all, and still his betrothed. What he said now could affect alliances—and their comfort with each other—for the next twenty years or more. He didn’t want to bungle this.
Her jaw was clenched, her emotions a roil of anxiety and stubborn pride. She seemed grimly determined to bear whatever pain and punishment he meted out.
“Um, I’m sorry I misunderstood before.”
Ragni felt her surprise, then she looked at him cautiously.
“Do you want this marriage?” Ragni asked. “We could break the betrothal.” It would be a mess, but they could do it. Better that than a lifetime of anger and bitterness.
“And damage the friendship between Dalrik and Quartzholm?”
He felt her surge of suspicion.
“Do you want out?” she asked.
“No.” He truly didn’t. Utta was kind and brave and honorable. She would make a fine wife, even if she didn’t desire him.
“Good.” The wave of her relief broke over him. “A woman of my rank must make an alliance.”
“Not all women marry.” How many old spinsters are like Utta?
“I want children, Ragni.”
Children. She wants me for something, anyway. Ragni looked into the fire smiling ruefully. At least her fear had diminished.
“I count myself fortunate that you were chosen for me.” Utta reached for his hands. �
�You’re young, and well-favored, and your Empathy gives me hope that you won’t use me harshly because of …how I feel.”
Ragni looked at her, shocked. “I would never—”
“It’s not unheard of.”
A horrible thought occurred to him. “Have you been with a man? Is that why you…? Did he hurt you?”
“Yes, I’ve been with a man, and no, he didn’t hurt me. It was good enough.”
Ragni relaxed. She hadn’t been abused. Still …He must not have been much of a lover. “I hope I can do better than ‘good enough.’”
She smiled, and he felt her amusement.
Why is that so funny?
A cry of distress cut the snow-muffled night. Ragni jerked around. Celia thrashed, and groaned again as if her heart were being wrenched from her chest.
Ragni jumped to her side, Utta right behind him. Whatever she’d dreamed must be bad. Very bad. “Celia!”
“What is it?” Tiva’ti, who shared Celia’s blankets, sat up.
Fender appeared at Ragni’s side, helping Celia to sit, wrapping another blanket around her. “What is it my lady?”
Celia’s voice was choked. “Murder! Dahleven …the Dark Elves…” She took a deep shuddering breath. “Quartzholm is under siege!”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“MY LORD!” An armsman rapped on Dahleven’s door. His wake-up call.
Dahl awoke, hands clenched in the sheets.
Celia had nearly been killed in that cave. Out there. Far away. Where he couldn’t protect her.
He made himself relax his hands. She was alive. She’d looked tired, even in her idealized dream-self, but she was alive.
He’d only allowed himself an hour’s sleep, just long enough to find out if Celia was all right, and to let her know about the siege. He’d slept in his clothes so there was nothing to do but don his boots and sword.
The armsman hurried to keep up with him as he made his way toward the battlements. “The villagers are all billeted, as you ordered, my lord.”
“Good.” They’d moved as many of the villagers within Quartzholm as they could, as soon as they’d realized their danger. It hadn’t been soon enough. Dahleven swallowed bile at the memory. Only half the townsfolk had made it inside the walls.
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