“I understand King Bridei’s terms were quite specific, my lord,” Faolan said. “A written, witnessed agreement, to be conveyed back to White Hill.”
“Who would sign on Bridei’s behalf?” Alpin’s eyes narrowed.
“I think you’ll find the lady knows Latin and can
write.” It gave Faolan considerable pleasure to watch Alpin’s face as he said this. “She’s had an extensive education. For a woman.”
“I see. A scholar, is she? All the same, I expect I’ll be able to teach her a few new tricks.”
“Yes, my lord.” Faolan spoke through gritted teeth.
“You are close to her,” Alpin observed.
“I’ve worked for the lady Ana awhile, my lord. But I am, after all, no more
than a servant.”
“Hmm. Very well, you’re dismissed. I don’t have the inclination to discuss this further now. I’ll consent to the agreement on Drustan’s behalf. He hasn’t the capacity to make such decisions. The value of the lady to me is far above some petty matter of alliances. If Bridei wants us to leave his forces alone, we’ll do so. We’ve enough territorial problems of our own without getting
embroiled in the south as well. Once the druid’s here we’ll conclude the matter and you can be off home, lad. Get that harp in working order and you can keep us entertained while we’re waiting for him to arrive. New song every night, keep you on your toes.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Alpin rose to his feet. He towered over the other men in the chamber. “Stay away from the lady,” he said, and his voice
had a note in it that was new. “No private conferences.
No more than a servant
isn’t good enough for me. She’s mine, and any man who lays a finger on her, or looks at her in a way I don’t like, will find himself dangling on a rope above my front gates with his personal parts stuffed in his mouth. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, my lord.” Faolan was seething.
“Go now.”
Faolan managed to maintain
a servile demeanor as he quit Alpin’s chamber. A whole turning of the moon, he thought as he passed the door to the room where he knew Ana was lodged. It was going to be quite a test. Perhaps it was just as well he was forbidden to see her alone, for his heart might get the better of him, causing him to speak words he would bitterly regret. He might beg her to come home with him; he might do his
best to convince her she must not wed a man who could never make her happy.
Faolan found a place alone, up on the walkway behind the parapet wall, and stood there thinking as the sun passed overhead and the shadows changed in the vast pattern of greens and browns and grays that was Briar Wood. The treaty was almost secured. The mission was all but accomplished. Why, then, was he full of this
ridiculous longing to go back, to be tired and cold and hungry, sitting by a tiny fire in the midnight dark with only Ana for company? The feeling gripped him so powerfully it was a physical hurt.
You can’t have it
, he told himself.
You can’t now, and you never could. Let her go. Do your job. Do the only thing that you can do.
After a while he returned to his quarters, sought out the material
he needed, and set to with knife and wood to fashion tuning pegs.
ANA SPENT THE day in her chamber with only Ludha for company. She had no desire to hear Alpin’s explanations, though he had knocked on her door three times to inquire how she was. His brother. Drustan was Alpin’s brother. How could that be? How could that lovely man with his lambent eyes and gentle manners be kin to an
uncouth chieftain whose tastes ran to crude blood sports and the baiting of women for amusement? Even if Drustan was suffering from a sickness of the mind, how could Alpin keep him chained like a savage dog, shut away from the light? Besides, Drustan did not seem sick. He did not seem mad. Though a little odd in his manner of speech, he had appeared quite rational to her. As she paced the length
of her chamber, torn between confusion and indignation, it came to her that being incarcerated for a long time would inevitably have the effect of turning a man’s mind somewhat strange. Wouldn’t Drustan be hurt, angry, resentful, afraid? She had seen how his eyes lit up when he was out in the woods, free, able to feel the sun on his face and to stretch his body to the full. She had seen the shadow
that fell on him like a dark cloak when he reentered his subterranean enclosure. Perhaps there was not much wrong with him at all. Why wasn’t Alpin trying to help his brother instead of pretending he didn’t exist? Why wasn’t he seeking a cure?
Deord could have given her answers, should have done, as he had promised when he took back the key. Thus far he had evaded her, muttering something about
Drustan needing him, and no spare time. And now that Alpin was back, Ana had lost her opportunity to question Drustan’s keeper.
“What is it, my lady?” Ludha asked for the tenth time, eyeing her mistress with growing alarm. “Are you unwell? It distresses me to see you like this.”
Ana opened her mouth to say yet again that it was nothing, then hesitated. It was unfair to involve Ludha in such
a matter, but there was nobody else who could help. Faolan was beyond her reach; it was clear to her that Alpin would not sanction any private meetings between his lady and her bard.
“Ludha,” she said, “I suppose you heard what Lord Alpin told us about the prisoner; his brother, Drustan.” To speak the name aloud gave her the strangest feeling, a warmth deep in her breast.
“Yes, my lady.” Ludha
was not meeting her eye; she worked industriously at her embroidery. An exquisite garland of forest green and violet blue now flowered across the hem of the tiny garment Ana had passed on to her maid for completion.
“You already knew of this captive? That Alpin’s own brother was shut away here at Briar Wood?”
“Everyone knows, my lady. We were told not to mention it until Lord Alpin had the chance
to explain it to you himself. So you wouldn’t be upset or frightened. It’s quite safe. That man, Deord, looks after him.”
“It’s not my safety I’m concerned about, Ludha. I’m shocked and distressed that Alpin would treat his own brother thus. That he would shut him away in such a …” Ana fell silent. She would not reveal what she had seen, not even to Ludha. There was a conspiracy of silence here
and the maid had been party to it. Who was to say she might not now go running to Orna, or to Alpin himself, to pass on anything Ana might tell her? “It’s cruel for a man to be a prisoner his whole life. I suppose he is kept in that place where Deord goes, behind Alpin’s sleeping quarters.”
“That’s what they say, my lady.”
“What is he like, this man, Drustan? Alpin said he was … incapable. That
he could talk only nonsense.” And since that had already been demonstrated to be untrue, perhaps the rest of the story was a lie as well.
“I don’t know, my lady. They never let him out. They say he’s crazy. Violent. He has fits, turns, as if a kind of frenzy comes over him. Deord is the only one strong enough to handle him. That’s what they say.”
Ana felt cold. “But you’ve been here—what?—six
years? You mean in all that time Alpin’s brother has never been out of his cell? Not once?”
“No, my lady. Orna says it’s too much of a risk. I couldn’t say, myself. There aren’t many folk here who knew him before.”
“Before what?”
Ludha had fallen silent. She bent, lips pursed, over her handiwork.
“Before what, Ludha?” Perhaps, Ana thought in exasperation, if she simply went on asking, eventually
these folk would tell her what she needed to know. “Speak up!” Too late, when Ludha looked up and was revealed to have tears in her eyes, Ana realized how sharp her tone had become. “I’m sorry, Ludha. I’m not cross with you, just angry that they would treat a man like that when his condition is hardly of his own making. I’m not used to people having so many secrets. Please, just tell me what
you know. I would like to help Drustan if I can. Indeed, if I am to stay here as Alpin’s wife, I believe it is my duty to do so.”
“He did something bad when the fit was on him,” Ludha whispered. “So Alpin had him put away. Most of the folk who lived here in those days are gone. Hardly anyone really knows what happened, and people don’t talk about it. But it was terrible enough that Lord Alpin’s
brother can’t be allowed out, ever. That’s all I know.”
Ana pondered this. “What about earlier?” she mused. “When he was a child, a boy? Who would know about that?”
Ludha shook her head. “Nobody. Only Lord Alpin and his sister, who never comes here. And …”
“And who?”
“There’s an old lady they speak of, who lives all alone out in the forest somewhere. Bela, her name is. She used to be their
nurse when they were children, Lord Alpin and his brother and sister. But nobody really knows where she is, or even if she’s still alive.”
“I thought these woods were dangerous. Full of eldritch presences, not to speak of combative neighbors. Why doesn’t this old retainer live within the safety of the fortress walls?”
“I don’t know, my lady. Old folk can be quite pigheaded. My grandfather got
very difficult at the end. He was always bringing chickens into the house. It drove my mother crazy. Maybe this old lady is just tired of being among folk.”
Ana reached a decision. “Ludha?”
“Yes, my lady?”
“I need to know if I can trust you. I must be sure you won’t speak to Orna behind my back, or to Lord Alpin, or to anyone else I tell you not to. You’re working for me now. Maidservant and
friend. What do you say?”
“My lady—” Ludha stopped short, staring past her mistress to the narrow window opening. A fluttering of wings, and as Ana turned the crossbill flew over to alight on her shoulder. It carried a small blue flower in its beak.
“Oh,” Ludha said softly, making a sign of protection with her fingers. Her rosy cheeks had turned pale. “They say—that is—”
“That the birds come
from Drustan?” Ana queried.
Ludha nodded, round-eyed, as the crossbill preened its feathers and settled, making itself at home.
“This is not the first such visit to my chamber. Do these creatures go freely in the household?”
“No, my lady. People speak of them. Of him and his birds. I’ve never seen one before. There are lots of cats here, and they’re all good hunters.”
“Now, Ludha, answer my
other question. I need to know if you can hold your tongue. If the answer’s yes, I want you to help me. I know you’re a good girl, a kind girl, and I hope you will agree, for I have nobody else.”
Ludha put her embroidery down. “Yes,” she said. “What must I do?”
“Nothing dangerous. First, I want you to let Orna know I have a headache and I’ll be keeping to my chamber for the rest of the day.
You’ll fetch me a tray for supper. I particularly don’t want to see Lord Alpin.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And then, while the household is at supper, I need you to keep watch for me.”
“Keep watch? Where?”
“Outside Lord Alpin’s chamber. It’s all right, Ludha, don’t look so shocked. All I’m going to do is ask a couple of questions I should have had answers to long ago.”
DEORD HAD NOT got his
job as special guard without good reason. As he opened the little inner door and stepped out into Alpin’s bedchamber, supper tray in hand, Ana moved from the shadows to stand in front of him and found herself spun around with both arms pinioned behind her in a bone-breaking grip. The tray clattered to the ground, spilling its contents. Deord had moved so fast she was his captive before she had
time to draw a single breath. A moment later his hold slackened and he released her. Ana rubbed her wrists, wincing. The bird had flown through toward Drustan’s quarters the moment the door. was opened.
“That was foolish.” Deord’s voice was calm. “I’m obliged to react to any possible threat immediately. There wasn’t time to identify you. You should not be here.”
“In the bedchamber of my future
husband? Are you obliged to react to that, as well?”
Deord regarded her steadily. “I perform a duty as a custodian,” he said. “A protector. By now Alpin will have given you the explanation you sought. I must go. My duties are by the book, precise and timely.”
“It was you I wanted answers from.”
“Drustan was distressed that evening; unwell. I told you. I could not be absent long.”
“Perhaps
it is his captivity that distresses him. I believe such long periods in the semidark would render the sanest man unwell.”
He said nothing, but bent to gather up the fallen objects, platter, bowls, spoons.
“Please,” Ana said. “Alpin hasn’t told me anything yet, only that Drustan is his brother and has some malady that renders him unable to live a normal life. I want you to tell me why. Why is
he locked up? Is he really dangerous? What was it that happened to begin all this?” She scooped up the two cups and set them on the tray. “Please, Deord. I want to help Drustan. I can’t believe his illness is incurable; he seems so courteous, so … so good.”
“He’s a comely man,” Deord commented without any particular emphasis.
Ana’s cheeks flamed. “That has nothing to do with it!” she snapped.
“Now answer my questions.”