Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire) (26 page)

BOOK: Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire)
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Emara and Gwen were huddled together at the back of the cell. Drunk as he was, Jariath had trouble getting the key in the lock, and Brock silently willed him to just give up.

No such luck. Jariath roared in victory as the door swung open, and the women screamed, sharp and piercing.

Jariath grabbed a handful of Gwen’s hair and pulled her to her feet. Shoving her against the bars, he quickly tied her hands with a length of rope and turned her around to face him. She was white, breathless with fear. Emara was crying quietly on the floor.

“What are you going to do with me?” Gwen gasped.

“Let’s see if Aislin comes running when I throw you off the tower,” Jariath slurred to the terrified woman. “No one will care if
you
die.”

“Jariath, no!” Brock shouted, holding his arms up in front of him to keep him from leaving the cell with Gwen. “This is
not
the way to bring Aislin to you, and it will just lose you a hostage.
Think
about this before you do it!”

“Outta my way, worm,” he said, as he shoved Brock aside, pulling Gwen along with him.

“For the love of Zeus, she’s Prince Bryce’s mother! You
need
her if Wyndham’s army shows up here!” Brock ran along beside Jariath, but Jariath wasn’t listening.

Jariath headed for the top of the circular tower at the left corner of the manor house, dragging a struggling Gwen up onto the rampart. He took one more wobbly step up onto the stones of the parapet, roared at the top of his lungs, and forced Gwen up to stand beside him. The wind was blowing hard. Gwen screamed as they both teetered on the edge.

Brock went to his knees on the parapet, staring up at Jariath and holding his breath. Jariath stood looking over Arianrhod, one fist clenched tightly at his side, the other entangled in Gwen’s hair. His head swiveled slowly from side to side as he surveyed the kingdom. He did this for several minutes, and then he gave a roar of anger that chilled Brock’s blood. Gwen screamed as they wobbled again.

Brock could hear that some of the troops had gathered on the ground around the base of the tower. They were laughing and calling insults, evidently unaware that it was their own commander and prince standing on the edge of the tower in the gloom of twilight.

Finally, someone in the crowd below called out: “
Are you mad?”
Someone else called, “Throw the woman down to us. We’ll catch her!” There was much laughter, and Jariath seemed to realize he was making a fool of himself. He turned and pushed Gwen down into Brock’s arms. Jumping down after her, Jariath fell into a drunken heap as he hit the ground. He’d finally passed out from too much wine.

Gwen shook in Brock’s arms. He released her. “Are you hurt?”

Gwen aimed her fury squarely at him. “You and Jariath are insane, that’s what you are! My son will be here soon enough with Wyndham’s army, and then every last one of you will be dead and rotting on the end of a spike!”

It was exactly what Brock had begun to fear, though he couldn’t say it to Gwen. Things didn’t seem to be going according to the plans they had made, and he was already trying to think of a way to sneak back to Morrigan.

Chapter Thirty

“D
O IT AGAIN!” MAEVE’S TINKLING laughter filled the garden. Tristan had knelt down in front of her, and was turning his ears this way and that, much to her delight.

He continued to do it despite the look of mock distress he kept giving Aislin. She dropped her head to conceal her smile.

Turning to her aunt, Maeve said, “Just like Martha!” Martha was Maeve’s cat.

“Just like Martha,” Aislin agreed, laughing.

“I like him! Will you come back to Arianrhod with us when we go home?” Maeve asked Tristan.

Tristan’s bright eyes searched Aislin’s face as he tousled the girl’s hair affectionately. “Your aunt and I have things to do before we can even think about that.”

Maeve ran off to play in the waterfall, and Tristan sat down beside Aislin. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do...when...if...Jariath is defeated?” he asked.

“He’ll be defeated one way or the other, and I’ll have to go back home, of course.”

“I want you to stay here with me.”

Aislin looked at him, stunned. She didn’t want to be harsh with him, but they both had to face reality. “Tristan...” she sighed. “I’m still regent for Bryce. I have to go back to Arianrhod until he’s eighteen. I’m just not free to stay here with you.”

The look on his face made her want to cry, but she couldn’t back out on the regency. It was a binding contract between her and her people. She had sworn to provide for and protect Arianrhod until Bryce was eighteen, and she took that responsibility seriously.

He picked up her left hand and began to play with her fingers, gently stroking and caressing them. Finally kissing them. She closed her eyes and wobbled a little. Even his touch in such an innocuous part of her body did strange things to her resolve. How would she ever find the strength to tell him no?

“Will you...?” Tristan started to ask, his voice husky with pain, his tongue gliding wetly over the crease where her thumb met her hand.

“Shhh.” Aislin quickly put her fingers up to his lips. “Please...don’t. We’ll talk about it later.”

In truth, the time they’d spent in the grotto yesterday had filled her with a longing ache that was only growing stronger. This impossible, mythical being had her head and heart all tangled up in what she knew were permanent knots. She couldn’t bring herself to think past the here-and-now. It seemed as though a future without him was looming painfully.

Colven appeared at the bottom of the steps to the garden, and motioned for Tristan to come to him. Colven was very animated, waving his arms in the air as he talked to Tristan. Both of them finally turned their eyes to Aislin. She watched them with furrowed brow.

Tristan walked back to her and sat down. “One of my spies has just now returned from Arianrhod,” he said casually.

She arched her eyebrows in surprise. “How long have you had spies in Arianrhod?”

He ignored her question. “Apparently Jariath was going to throw your brother’s wife off the tower of the manor house yesterday. He didn’t do it, but he told Colven it was close.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, before she dropped her head into her hands with a groan.

What was Jariath thinking? Why would he
do
something like that? Was this a ploy to get her attention? If it was, it was working. Aislin glanced back at Maeve splashing happily in the water. How would she ever tell her that a lunatic had killed her mother?

“We have to go. We have to go
today
.” A fine thread of hysteria wove its way into her voice.

“Aislin...”

“I know enough about the pike. I’m comfortable with it. We can’t wait another day! He’s going to do something terrible if I don’t get them out of there.”

Tristan nodded his head. “I told Colven to ready the horses and have some provisions packed for us within the hour. I knew you’d want to leave immediately.”

Just like that. No argument. He didn’t say ‘
I’m keeping you here in chains forever
and don’t argue with me, Aislin’
. He knew what her response would be, and he’d gone ahead and made the arrangements. She blinked at him.

“I have to tell Devin we’re leaving. He’ll have to look after Maeve while I’m gone. I’ve asked Colven to make sure they get home if something happens to me.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

Tristan said nothing, but he took her hands in his. “Go and talk to Devin, and then meet me back here alone.”

Devin was still napping on the chaise when Aislin entered. She closed the door gently, and stood looking at him, a slight smile on her face.

Her gentle giant. He had the physique of an ox, but there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. How many times had she stood on his shoulders to prune trees, his big hands wrapped securely around her ankles? How many times had she cried herself silly with him handing her one handkerchief after another, rubbing her back and clucking at her like a mother hen? How many times had he stayed behind to patiently fix something after she’d stormed away, fists clenched in frustration?

Over the years, Devin had laced her dresses, tucked her in when she collapsed from exhaustion, looked after her when she was sick, and walked the halls with a crying baby Maeve when no one else could soothe her.

Aislin took a deep breath as she watched the big man sleep. He’d been her rock through some pretty tough times.

She leaned over and gently touched his shoulder. “Devin, I need to talk to you. Tristan and I are leaving for Arianrhod later on today,” she whispered.

He blinked sleepy eyes and sat up. “That was quick.”

“Apparently Jariath was going to throw Gwen off the top tower of the manor house yesterday. He’s probably extremely frustrated that he hasn’t been able to find me, and I have to do something before he kills one of them.”

“Imagine that. Jariath terrorizing a woman. How are you going to get into Arianrhod to get them?”

“I don’t know yet. Tristan said he has a plan. I’m supposed to meet him back at his garden in an hour. I hope he has something. I have no ideas at all.” Aislin sat down beside Devin.

“Anything from Rod? Do we know if he made it to Wyndham?”

“We don’t. But I believe in my heart that he made it. That man can do anything.”

“What about Maeve?”

“Please look after her, Devin. I know she can be a handful, but there is no one I trust more than you. I’ve asked Colven to make sure the two of you get back home if something happens to me, and he gave me his word.”

“Don’t say that. Arianrhod cannot survive without you.” Devin’s face grew dark, and Aislin reached for his hand.

“I know I haven’t been the easiest person to work with at times. You’ve always done everything I’ve asked you to do and more. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. You made me feel safe again, Dev. The last couple of years would’ve been impossible without you by my side.”

Devin looked away, but not before she saw the tears in his eyes. “Take care of yourself.”

“And you do the same. We’ll be meeting up in Arianrhod in a few days. I have no doubt.” Aislin gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I’m holding you to that,” he said, sniffling.

Riding a horse for a day or two would require appropriate clothing, and Aislin ransacked the room until she found some. She changed into the dark hooded tunic and tights Tristan often wore.

Aislin returned to the garden and found Tristan shooting arrows into a target. He did a double take when he saw her.

“You look like a beautiful elf,” he said. She smiled at him.

“I have a gift for you.” He pulled the bag of pikes down out of the tree, withdrew one and handed it to her. “I had it specially made for you.” It was pure white and had a bright silver metal point on the end, sharp as a knife blade. As she spun it around, she saw that it was a little shorter than the longer pikes she’d practiced with. It fit her perfectly.

“Very nice. Thank you.”

“I also have something I want to show you—something that will get us into Arianrhod unseen.”

“Unseen? We have to walk through an open field to get to the storm drain. You’d better have something that makes us completely invisible.”

His smile grew wider. “I do. Watch.” Tristan rubbed his palms together until his hands began to glow with a faint blue light. Aislin watched transfixed—she couldn’t see where the light was coming from—but the more he rubbed, the brighter the glow became.

He pulled his palms apart and began to work his hands as though he were kneading a large unseen ball of clay. After awhile, a thin fabric began to drop from his hands onto the ground. It had a bluish silver shimmer to it, just like the light. She dropped to one knee and reached for it with two fingers. It was so light she couldn’t feel it. Not quite solid, it flowed over her fingers like a liquid. She looked up at him in disbelief. “What is this?”

“It’s called gossamer.” Tristan picked up the pile of silver fluff from the floor, and draped it around his shoulders. Aislin gasped and took a step back. Tristan’s body had disappeared from the shoulders down, and his head looked as though it were floating in the air!

“How did you do that?”

“Magik, my love!”

“It’s perfect!”

“Well, it’s not
quite
perfect—not where you’re concerned anyway. No human will be able to see you when you’re covered with gossamer, but a Sylvan could. Gossamer was invaluable in keeping us hidden from humans all those years ago. It will be just what we need to sneak through the field and into the drain pipe.”

“How will I know where you are then, if I’m not able to see you?”

“As long as I can see you, we’ll be fine. If it really concerns you, I’ll whisper to you once in awhile so you’ll know where I am. But you’ll have to be extremely quiet—the gossamer doesn’t block sound.”

Tristan removed the fabric from around his shoulders and dropped it over Aislin’s head. She felt it conform instantly to her body. She was still able to see her hands in front of her, but they had a bit of a sparkle. “How do I know if I’m invisible?”

Tristan took her by the hand and had her bend over the pool by the waterfall. She had no reflection in the water at all.

“This is astonishing!” She shook her head and laughed, as she pulled the gossamer off. “You’re a genius!”

“Gossamer is very light, and doesn’t take up much space. You can store it in the breast pocket of your tunic and take it out when you need it. You keep that one. I’ll make another for myself.” He began to move his hands this way and that until they were glowing blue, and the gossamer flowed from his hands to the ground.

She watched, mouth agape. She hadn’t liked some of his Magik, but this one was
amazing
.

Colven and Maeve appeared at the bottom of the marble steps. “The horses are packed and ready when you are,” Colven said.

Aislin pulled Maeve into her arms, and gave her a big hug. “I have to leave for a little while, but Devin will be here with you. Be good for him, won’t you?”

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