Nora Roberts's Circle Trilogy

by Nora Roberts

  “It would be best if she went.” Hoyt sent a look of sympathy toward Larkin. “With three, we shouldn’t need to be gone more than a day. The first troops could be sent out at first light, and make their way to the first post.”

  “That leaves three of us here to continue to work and train and prepare.” Moira nodded. “This would be best. Would you think Tynan should lead those first troops, Larkin?”

  “Do you ask as a sop to my wounded pride, or because you want my opinion of it?”

  “Both.”

  She charmed a reluctant laugh out of him. “Then, aye, he’d be the one for it.”

  “We should get started.” Blair glanced around the table. “With the time Larkin can make in the air, we’d be able to set up the first base, maybe the first two, before nightfall.”

  “Take whatever you need,” Moira told them. “I’ll speak to Tynan, and have him lead the first troops out at dawn.”

  “She’ll be expecting you.” Cian spoke for the first time since Moira had entered. “If Lilith hasn’t thought of this move, one of her advisors would have. She’ll have troops posted to intercept and ambush.”

  Blair nodded. “Figured that. It’s why we’re better with three, and coming from the air. They won’t take us by surprise, but we might just take them.”

  “Better chance of that if you come from this direction.” He got up to come around to the map and illustrate. “Circle around, come at the first location from the east or the north. More time, of course, but they’d likely be watching for you from this direction.”

  “Good point,” Blair acknowledged, then gave Larkin a considering frown. “Hoyt and I could put down, out of sight, and send our boy here to get the lay. Maybe as a bird, or some animal they wouldn’t think twice about seeing in the area. Have to take extra provisions,” she added, “the way he burns up the fuel with the changes, but better safe than otherwise.”

  “Keep it small,” Cian warned Larkin. “If you go as a deer or any sort of game, they might shoot you for sport or an extra meal. They’ll be bored by this time, I’d imagine. If the weather there’s as it’s been here today, they’ll likely be inside or under shelter. We don’t care to be drenched any more than humans do.”

  “Okay, we’ll work it out.” Blair got to her feet. “Any magic tricks up your sleeve,” she said to Hoyt, “don’t forget to pack them.”

  “Be careful.” Glenna fussed with Hoyt’s cloak as they stood at the gates.

  “Don’t worry.”

  “Goes with the territory.” She held both hands on his cloak as she looked up into his eyes. “We’ve stuck pretty tight together since this started, you and I. I wish I were going with you.”

  “You’re needed here.” He touched her cross, then his own. “You’ll know where I am, and how I am. Two days, at most. I’ll come back to you.”

  “Make damn sure of it.” She pulled him to her, kissed him hard and long while her heart trembled. “I love you. Be safe.”

  “I love you. Be strong. Now go inside, out of the rain.”

  But she waited while Larkin shimmered into the dragon, then Hoyt and Blair loaded on the packs and weapons. She waited while they vaulted on the dragon’s back, and rose up, flying through the gray curtain of rain.

  “It’s hard,” Moira said from behind her, “to be the one who waits.”

  “Horrible.” She reached back, took a strong grip on Moira’s hand. “So keep me busy. We’ll go in, have our first lesson.” They turned, walked away from the gates. “Do you remember when you first knew you had power?”

  “No. It wasn’t definite, as it was with Larkin. It was more that I sometimes knew things. Where to find something that was lost. Or where someone was hiding if we were playing a game. But it always seemed it could have been as much luck, or just good sense as anything else.”

  “Was your mother gifted?”

  “She was. But softly, if you understand me. A kind of empathy, you could say. A gift for growing things.” Idly she tossed her braid behind her shoulder. “You’ve seen the gardens here, and those were her doing. If she was able to attend a birth or help at a sick bed, she could bring comfort and ease. I thought of what she had, and what I have, as a kind of woman’s magic. Empathy, intuition, healing.”

  They stepped through the archway, moved to the stairs. “But since I began to work with you and Hoyt, I felt more. Like a stirring. It seemed to me it was a kind of echo, or reflection of the stronger power both of you have. Then I took hold of the sword.”

  “A talisman, or conduit,” Glenna speculated. “Or more simply a key that opened a door to what was already in you.”

  She led the way into the room where she and Hoyt worked. It wasn’t so different from the tower room in Ireland. Bigger, Moira thought, and with an arched doorway that led to one of the castle’s many balconies.

  But the scents were the same, herbs and ash and something that was a mix of floral and metallic. A number of Glenna’s crystals were set around on tables and chests. As much Moira supposed for aesthetics as for magical purposes.

  There were bowls and vials and books.

  And crosses—silver, wood, stone, copper—hung at every opening to the outside.

  “Damp and chilly in here,” Glenna commented. “Why don’t you light the fire?”

  “Oh, of course.” But when Moira started across to the wide stone hearth, Glenna laughed and grabbed her hand.

  “No, not like that. Fire. It’s elemental, one of the basic skills. To practice magic, we utilize the elements, nature. We respect them. Light the fire from here, with me.”

  “I wouldn’t know how to begin.”

  “With yourself. Mind, heart, belly, bone and blood. See the fire, its colors and shapes. Feel the heat of it, smell the smoke and burning turf. Take that from your mind, from inside you, and put it in the hearth.”

  Moira did as she was told, and though she felt something ripple along her skin, the turf remained quiet and cold.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No. It takes time, energy and focus. And it takes faith. You don’t remember taking your first steps, pulling yourself up with your mother’s skirts or on a table, or how many times you fell before you stood. Take your first step, Moira. Hold out your right hand. Imagine the fire lighting inside you, hot, bright. It flows out, up from your belly, through your heart, down your arm to your fingertips. See it, feel it. Send it where you will.”

  It was almost a trance, Glenna’s quiet voice and that building of heat. A stronger ripple now, under her skin, over it. And a weak tongue of flame spurted along a brick of turf.

  “Oh! It was a flash inside my head. But you did most of it.”

  “A little of it,” Glenna corrected. “Just a little push.”

  Moira blew out a long breath. “I feel I’ve run up a mountain.”

  “It’ll get easier.”

  Watching the fire catch hold, Moira nodded. “Teach me.”

  By the end of two hours, Moira felt as though she’d not only climbed a mountain, but had fallen off one—on her head. But she’d learned to call and somewhat control two of the four elements. Glenna had given her a list of simple spells and charms to practice on her own.

  Homework, Glenna had called it, and the scholar in Moira was eager to apply herself to it.

  But there were other matters to be seen to. She changed to more formal attire, fixed the mitre of her office on her head, and went to meet with her uncle regarding finance.

  Wars cost coin.

  “Many had to leave their crops unharvested,” Riddock told her. “Their flocks and herds untended. Some will surely lose their homes.”

  “We’ll help them rebuild. There will be no tax or levy imposed for two years.”

  “Moira—”

  “The treasury will stand it, Uncle. I can’t sit on gold and jewels, no matter what their history, while our people sacrifice. I would melt the royal crown of Geall first. When this is done, I will plant crops. Fifty acres. Another fifty for
grazing. What comes from it will be given back to those who fought, the families of any who perished or were injured serving Geall.”

  He rubbed his own aching head. “And how will you know who has served and who has hidden themselves away?”

  “We’ll believe. You think I’m naive and softhearted. Perhaps I am. Some of that will be needed from a queen when this is done. I can’t be naive and softhearted now, and I must push and prod and ask my people to give and give. I ask a great deal of you. You’re here, while strangers turn your home into a barracks.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s very much, and won’t be the last I ask of you. Oran marches tomorrow.”

  “He’s spoken to me.” There was pride in Riddock’s voice, though his eyes were heavy with sorrow. “My younger son is a man, and must be a man.”

  “Being yours he could be no less. For now, even as troops begin to march, work has to continued here. Weapons must be forged, people must be fed and housed. Trained. Whatever is required you have leave to spend. But…” She smiled now, thinly. “If any merchant or craftsman seeks too heavy a profit, he will have an audience with the queen.”

  Riddock returned her smile. “Very well. Your mother would be proud of you.”

  “I hope she would. I think of her every day.” She rose, and the gesture brought him to his feet. “I must go to my aunt. She’s so good to stand as chantelain these weeks.”

  “She enjoys it.”

  “I wonder that she could. The kitchens, the laundry, the sewing, the cleaning. It’s beyond my ken with so many to tend. I’d be lost without her.”

  “She’ll be pleased to hear it. But she tells me you come, every day, to speak with her, and to tour those kitchen, the laundry. Just as I’m told you go speak to the smithies, the young ones you have carving stakes. And today you trained with the other women.”

  “I never thought my office would be an idle one.”

  “No, but you need rest, Moira. Your eyes are shadowed.”

  She told herself to ask Glenna to teach her to do a glamour. “There’s time enough to rest when this is done.”

  She spent an hour with her aunt going over household accounts and duties, then another speaking with some of those who performed those duties.

  When she started toward the parlor with the idea of a light meal and a vat of tea, she heard Cian’s laugh.

  It relieved her to know he was keeping Glenna company, but she wondered if she herself had the energy to deal with him after such a long day.

  She caught herself turning away, felt a quick flare of anger. Did she need a headful of wine just to sit comfortably in the same room with him? What sort of coward was she?

  Straightening her spine, she strode in to see Glenna and Cian sitting by the fire with fruit and tea.

  They looked so easy with each other, Moira thought. Did Glenna find it comforting or strange that Cian looked so like his brother? Little differences, of course. That cleft in Cian’s chin his brother lacked. And his face was leaner than Hoyt’s, his hair shorter.

  There was his posture, and his movements. Cian always seemed at his ease, and walked with a near animal fluidity.

  She liked watching him move, Moira admitted. He always put her in mind of something exotic—beautiful in its way, and just as lethal.

  He knew she was there, she was sure. She’d yet to see anything or anyone come up on him with him unaware. But he continued to slouch in the chair where most men would rise when a woman—much less a queen—entered the room.

  It was like his shrug, she thought. A deliberate carelessness. She wished she didn’t find that so appealing as well.

  “Am I interrupting?” she asked as she crossed the room.

  “No.” Glenna shifted to smile at her. “I asked for enough for three, hoping you’d have time. Cian’s just been entertaining me with stories of Hoyt’s exploits as a child.”

  “I’ll leave you ladies to your tea.”

  “Please don’t go.” Before he could rise, Glenna took his arm. “You’ve been working hard to keep me from worrying.”

  “If you knew it, I wasn’t working hard enough.”

  “You gave me a breather, and it’s appreciated. Now, if everything’s gone as planned, they should be at the projected base. I need to look.” Her hand was steady as she poured tea for Moira. “I think it would be better if we all looked.”

  “Can you help them if…” Moira let it trail off.

  “Hoyt’s not the only one with magic up his sleeve. But I’ll be able to see more clearly, and help if necessary if the two of you work with me. I know you’ve had a long one, Moira.”

  “They’re my family as well.”

  With a nod, Glenna rose. “I brought what I thought I’d need.” She retrieved her crystal globe, some smaller crystals, some herbs. These she arranged on the table between them. Then she took off her cross, circled the ball with its chain.

  “So.” She kept her voice light, placed her hands over the ball. “Let’s see what they’re up to.”

  It had rained across Geall, making the trip a small misery. They’d circled wide, coming down nearly a quarter mile east of the farm they intended to use for a base. Its location was prime, nearly equidistant from the land Lilith now occupied and the field of battle.

  Because it was, Cian’s assumption that it would be laid for ambush rang true.

  The two riders dismounted from the dragon’s back, then off-loaded packs and supplies. There was some cover—the low stone wall separating the fields, and the scatter of trees that ran with it.

  Nothing stirred in the rain.

  Dragon turned to man, and Larkin scooped both hands through his dripping hair. “Filthy day all in all. You saw the goal right enough?”

  “Two-story cottage,” Blair answered. “Three outbuildings, two paddocks. Sheep. No smoke or sign of life, no horses. If they’re there, they’d have guards posted, a couple in each building, most likely. Taking shifts while the others sleep. They’d need food, so they may have prisoners. Or if they’re traveling light, they’d have what they need in canteens—water bags.”

  “I could risk a look,” Hoyt said. “If she sent along any with power though, they could sense it, and us.”

  “Simpler if I take a run at it.” Larkin paused to crunch into an apple. The long trip had hunger gnawing at his belly. “They wouldn’t put up the shield, as they have around their main base. Not if they’re hoping to snatch some of us if and when we come along.”

  “Go in small,” Blair reminded him. “Cian had a good point about that.”

  “Aye, well.” He stuffed some bread in his mouth. “A mouse is small enough and worked before. It’ll take longer than it would as wolf or deer.” He slipped off his cross. “You’ll need to keep this for me.”

  “I hate this part.” Blair took the cross. “I hate you going in without a weapon or shield.”

  “Have a little faith.” He cupped her chin, kissed her. Then stepping back changed into a small field mouse.

  “Can’t believe I just kissed that,” Blair muttered, then closed her hand tight over his cross as the mouse streaked across the grass. “Now we wait.”

  “Best if we take precautions. I’ll cast a circle.”

  Larkin was nearly to the first outbuilding when he spotted the wolf. It was large and black, crouched in a thicket of berries. It paid no mind to him while its red eyes scanned the field and the road to the west. Still, he gave it a wide berth before squirming under the doorway.

  It was a rough stable, and there were two horses in the stalls. And two vampires seated on the floor having a game of dice. The mouse cocked its head in some surprise. Larkin hadn’t considered vampires would game. The wolf, he deduced, was their outlook. A signal from it, and they’d come to action. But for now, they were too involved in the dice to notice a small mouse.

  There were swords, and two full quivers with bows. Inspired, he dashed over to where the bows rested against a stall. And busily gnawed at th
e strings.

  One vampire was cursing his fellow’s luck when Larkin scrambled out again.

  He found similar setups in each building, with the main body of the troop in the cottage. Though he smelled blood, he saw no human. In the cottage, four vampires slept in the loft while five others kept watch.

  He did what could be done by a mouse to sabotage, then hurried away again.

  He found Hoyt and Blair where he’d left them, sitting now on a damp blanket in a circle that simmered low. “Fifteen by my count,” he told them. “And a wolf. We’d need to get past that one for any chance at taking the others by surprise.”

  “Have to be quiet then.” Blair picked up a bow. “And from downwind. Hoyt, if Larkin can give me the exact position, is there a way you can help me see it?”

  “I can give you the exact position,” Larkin said before Hoyt spoke, “because we’ll be going together now. You won the round to come, but you won’t go into that nest of demons alone.”

  “She won’t, no. Of the three of us, you’ve the best hand with a bow, so you’ll take the shot,” Hoyt told Blair. “But we’ll be covering your flank while you’re at it. I’ll do what I can to help you get a clear shot.”

  “No point in arguing that one moves faster and quieter than three? Didn’t think so,” Blair said when she met stony silence. “Let’s move out then.”

  They had to circle widely to keep out of sight, and prevent their scent from carrying. But when they came up behind the wolf, Blair shook her head. “I don’t think I can get the heart from here. Moira, maybe, but I’m not that good. Gonna take more than one shot.”

  She thought it over, saw how it could best be done.

  “You take the first one,” she whispered to Larkin. “Get as close as you can. If it rears or rolls, shifts around, I can take it. One, two,” she added, using her fingers. “Has to be fast, has to be quiet.”

  He nodded, pulled an arrow from the quiver, notched it in his bow. It was a long shot for him, and the angle poor. But he took aim, breathed out, breathed in. And let the arrow fly.