The whole while, Sterling watched Moira closely in the mirror, her eyes following Moira’s hands as she cut away the errant curls. Meanwhile, Drake continued to stand in the corner, though he’d finally turned around and was leaning against the wall.
“There, all better,” Moira sighed once she finished with her task. She’d cut Sterling’s thick hair down so that it didn’t stick out in all directions. Sterling examined herself in the mirror, turning her head from left to right. The expression on her face told Moira she didn’t dislike it, “What do you think Drake?”
“What?” Drake, who had been leaning against the wall suddenly stood at attention and said, “Oh, it’s,” he seemed to search for the right words, “it’s practical.”
Moira looked at Sterling in the mirror and their eyes connected and neither could help but laugh at Drake’s embarrassment. “I think it’s lovely,” Moira said.
Sterling agreed with a slight smile and a nod of her head.
“Now, it has been a trying day and you need your rest.” Moira felt guilty leaving Sterling in the room alone, but she knew Sterling was not yet well enough to wander the Keep. “When it is time, I’ll bring you a tray for dinner.” Moira stepped into the hall, with Drake following behind. He closed the door and turned the key to lock the door. “What are you doing?” Moira asked, both angered and surprised. “She’s not a prisoner.”
“The Arl’s orders,” Drake responded, tucking the key away in his pocket.
24
Justified
Orrven found Brom in the stables. He was tending to Tor, the great beast of a horse that frightened most men away. It was the perfect mount for Brom, the horse matched Brom’s ferocity perfectly. Though with Brom, the horse was more a lap dog than a well-trained war horse. He nuzzled Brom’s shoulder while his master brushed his black hide until is shone.
Orrven cleared his throat to gain Brom’s attention, “A word with you brother.”
Brom led Tor into his stall and closed the door behind him. Tor turned around and nibbled at Brom’s ear until his brother-in-law pushed away the affectionate horse. “How was your hunt?”
“Fortunately, an easy kill,” Brom answered, but realized the graekull wasn’t what was on Orrven’s mind. “What is it you really wanted to discuss?”
“It’s about that girl you found,” Orrven could still feel the pain in his chest where she had kicked him. He was worried what would have happened to Moira if he had not been there.
“Sterling?” Brom’s eyebrow went up. “What about her?’
“She attacked Moira,” Orrven started, but was cut off by Brom’s angry words.
“What do you mean she attacked Moira?” Brom’s voice went icy cold at the mention of his sister being harmed, “Is Moira okay?”
“If I had not been there she could have seriously wounded your sister.” Orrven said, rubbing his chest.
“Tell me what happened,” Brom started toward the main building but stopped when he noticed Moira approaching them. Her look did not bode well for either man.
“Why did you order Drake and Culan to lock Sterling in her room? She is not a prisoner.” Moira asked, her hands on her hips.
“She attacked you, what did you expect me to do?” Orrven responded, his voice icy.
Brom stepped forward pushing Orrven out of the way, “Orrven told me she attacked you. Tell me what happened.”
“Relax, both of you,” Moira waved her hands at them. Turning to Brom, “It was perfectly understandable. I had taken her down to the bath and had to leave her in Gilda’s hands when Lirit came down with a fever. Gilda got a little,” Moira pinched her fingers together, “out of control and cut off all of Sterling’s hair. She then threw her in the wardrobe after tying her hands and feet together and shoved a gag in her mouth.”
“That’s no excuse…” Orrven started to interrupt Moira.
“Husband, you must have seen the scars that marred Sterling’s back. She has been miserably tortured by the Severon, and I,” Moira pressed her hand to her chest, “promised her that she would be well treated here at Pan’Dale. Not an hour later she is being thrown naked into a wardrobe,” Moira took a deep breath, “And you Brom, I know you snuck into her room last night.”
“I do not sneak,” Brom rebutted her claim.
“Regardless, you sat with her through the night. You know full well the condition she is in, and do you know what she told me? She’s twenty-one. Twenty-one.” Moira paused and took a deep breath. “We all thought she was just a child, but she’s twenty-one. Tell me, how would you react in the same situation?”
“She has a point,” Brom couldn’t argue with Moira’s reasoning.
“Point or no, I will not let that girl loose in my house.” Orrven refused to relent, “I’ll not let her threaten the safety of my family or those in my care.”
“But-”
“There is no discussion,” Orrven’s voice rose as he stopped Moira’s protest. “What would you do if she were to encounter Gilda again? You would have Gilda’s blood on your hands? What if she attacked Lirit?”
“He has a point,” Brom agreed with Orrven.
Moira glared at her brother, “You are not helping.” She turned back to Orrven, “At least let me hold onto the key and rescind your order that Drake has to be in the room when I’m with Sterling.”
Orrven heaved a heavy sigh, “Drake will keep the key, but I’ll rescind the order.”
Moira knew she should not press her husband. If pushed he may just order Sterling out of the Keep altogether. “Very well, I’ll concede, but know I’m not happy about it.” Moira started to walk away, but stopped and turned back to the two men, “I’ll be taking her into the village to see Bennet in a few days.” She left them before Orrven could protest.
“Well, there you have it.” Orrven said frankly motioning at his wife’s retreating back.
“She’s your wife,” Brom chuckled, “you should be able to handle her.”
“I’ve tried,” Orrven sighed, “but she has best me at every turn.”
Twenty-one? A Devian and a Rin’Ovana… Brom’s heart began to race in his chest. No, she couldn’t be Khort and Sylvie’s. He pushed the idea to the back of his mind. His hopes of ever finding their child had long since been put to rest. But what if, what if she were their child? Brom knew of only one way to confirm, but the consequences were far too severe if she were a Rin’Ovana.
“Vita, have you seen Gilda? I need to have a word with her.” Moira asked as she stepped into the kitchen in search of the maid.
“Yes, milady. Gilda said she was takin’ a tray up to the little miss,” Vita said without turning.
Moira hurried up the stairs to the third level, where the nursery was located, just above the living quarters. On the third level was Lirit’s room along with Raane and Gilda’s rooms. Moira paused outside Lirit’s door and caught her breath, breathing in deeply trying to calm herself. She pushed the door open, and found Gilda sitting with her back to the door. She was in a chair next to Lirit’s bed while she quietly read from a book. Lirit sat wide eyed as she listened to Gilda’s story. Moira remembered listening to Gilda’s stories as a child as she too sat wide eyed. It was quite the contrast to what Sterling had witnessed from this woman.
“Gilda. A word with you.”
Gilda’s shoulders stiffened as she placed a ribbon in the book to hold her place. She tucked the blanket around Lirit and stood, “Yes milady.”
Moira was shocked at Gilda’s appearance. Vita had minimized the damage Sterling had done to the woman. The three gouges that had been carved into her right cheek stood out in contrast from Gilda’s fair skin. Her gray hair framed her face and accentuated the red whelps that crisscrossed her neck.
Sterling must have tried desperately to get away from Gilda’s powerful grasp to cause this amount of damage. Gilda’s hands, clenched into tight fists and hanging by her sides, were also covered in scratches.
Moira stiffened her resolve. She could not
let Gilda’s state affect how she treated her old nurse. “Please explain to me why my guest was bound and gagged and thrown into the wardrobe?”
Gilda’s jaw tightened as her teeth clenched. She looked at Moira with a mix of anger and confusion on her face, and asked, “What did you think would happen when I discovered she was a Devian?” Gilda threw the question at Moira.
The question caught her off guard. She stammered, “I-.”
Gilda interrupted. “Did you forget my son was murdered by a Devian? Murdered in cold blood, he was.” Tears clogged her throat as she threw the last statement at Sterling. “I was justified.”
Moira’s breath caught in her throat. She had indeed forgotten that Gilda’s son had been brutally murdered by a roving Devian some five years ago. Gilda’s family had offered the Devian shelter in hopes he would bring them luck with their harvest, but the opposite happened. Instead, they’d found Baeron’s body twisted and mangled and the Devian standing over him, Baeron’s blood on his hands and clothes.
With more anger in her voice, Gilda exclaimed, “They’re all wild beasts! Every one of them.” Gilda took a deep breath, “They should all be sent back to Fin’Varrar.”
“I apologize for bringing back such terrible memories,” Moira said, “but you saw the condition she was in when she arrived. You saw the lashes on her back and the scars that cover her body. Did you not think that perhaps she’s already been tortured enough?” Moira spread her arms wide, “I want her to trust me, but how can I do that when she is treated so poorly after arriving at our home?”
Gilda surprised her when she grabbed Moira’s shoulders and started to squeeze. “Devians cannot be trusted and you’re a fool for letting that… that thing stay here!”
“Sterling is not a thing, she is a person just like you and I.” Moira’s anger spiked at Gilda’s statement. “Think about how Devians are treated, simply for the fact that their eyes are different than our own.” Moira paused and calmed herself, “Again, I apologize for asking you to care for someone who brings back such bad memories. However, she is a guest in my house and I expect you to treat her as such. Is that clear?”
Gilda’s skin blanched at Moira’s words, causing the scratches to stand out even more. “Yes, milady,” Gilda’s contrite response caused a pang of regret to twist Moira’s heart.
“Thank you, Gilda, and again I’m sorry if my actions have caused you distress.”
Before Moira could dismiss Gilda, the woman grabbed hold of Moira’s hands and with more thought and less anger, she warned, “She is fearsome milady. She fought with a strength I have not witnessed in one so tiny. She should be watched carefully.”
Moira was taken aback by Gilda’s insistence that Sterling was dangerous, “I’ll be careful,” Moira said, patting Gilda on the shoulder. “I’m sure everything will be just fine.”
Gilda regained her composure, “I’ll take my leave then.” Gilda turned to Lirit and said, “We’ll finish your story another time.” She left the room giving Moira a pained smile, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
That had been more difficult than I thought it would be, Moira thought, breathing in a calming breath.
“Momma?”
Moira forced a smile on her lips and turned to her daughter. Lirit sat in the center of her giant bed looking more like a doll than a child. Her brown hair hung in ringlets, framing her round cherubic face. Like her father, she had bright blue eyes that could see through to one’s heart. Because she was an only child Moira tended to dote on Lirit and was thankful she was a sweet girl, unlike the Ar’Bethnot’s daughter. The youngest child, and only daughter, Bethany Ar’Bethnot was a spoiled brat who grated on Moira’s nerves with her constant whining and demands.
She sat down next to Lirit and felt her forehead. Relieved the fever had not returned, she asked, “How do you feel?”
“Better.” Lirit smiled for a moment, then her brow furrowed as if in deep thought, “Are all Devians dangerous?”
Moira forced a smile on her face, “Of course not, why do you ask?”
“Gilda said that I should avoid Devians and that they would hurt me.”
“Well, I suppose that some Devians could be dangerous, but not all of them. Just like some of your papa’s hunting dogs can snarl and snap, but not all of them are mean.”
Lirit thought for a moment, “Can I see her?”
“Well, she’s unwell right now, perhaps when she is better.”
“Okay momma,” Lirit sunk down in her bed.
“Go to sleep now,” Moira kissed Lirit on her forehead, “Good night my sweet.”
Moira heard Lirit whisper, “Good night momma,” as she closed the door. Moira leaned against the door and took a deep breath hoping to calm her nerves.
It had been a long day. Sterling’s bath, Lirit’s fever, Gilda’s reaction to Sterling and her argument with Orrven. Sterling’s arrival had sent the Keep into a tizzy. Sterling claimed to be a Rin’Ovana, but Brom had cautioned Moira to keep the fact to herself. The Rin’Ovana’s had suffered the King’s wrath and it wouldn’t bode well for Sterling if the news reached the wrong ears. I’ll keep it to myself for now, Moira thought, yawning. But first she needed a well-deserved rest.
25
Guilt
Five Days Later
Dan’Idou, 14th Turcia
A heavy curtain of fog hung low over the valley giving the familiar terrain an otherworldly feel. Sterling stood on her small hillock surrounded by the dense fog. It was a place she was well accustomed to, this desolate valley with no other life but her own. The air was crisp, and the moisture carried by the fog caused the air to seep into Sterling’s bones, her body trembling from the deep chill.
The feeling of isolation was overwhelming and made it hard to breathe. Every labored breath from her chilled lungs sounded like a rushing river in the absolute silence of the fog. With each exhale her breath hung in the air for a moment before disappearing.
The dense fog reflected the moons rays allowing Sterling to see her immediate surroundings. From her hillock she could see the charred tree that stood watch over the valley. She dared not leave this small patch of land or else she could wander forever in this impassible fog.
A soft thud in the distance brought Sterling’s head up and her heart racing. She stood listening intently, but the fog muffled the noise. She held her breath and listened for anything in the fog. Just as she was about to exhale she heard it again. A soft thud in the damp earth, then another, this one closer. Each step seemed to come from a different direction. Sterling turned in a circle trying to pinpoint the location of whoever was lurking in the fog.
The hammering of her heart made it difficult to hear the slow, measured steps. With the fog surrounding her she could not tell from which direction they came. Sterling stood listening intently, but the sound of her rapid heartbeat was too loud.
“Who’s there?” She yelled out. Her words fell flat as the fog absorbed them.
Sterling felt vulnerable standing with nothing at her back. Another soft thud sounded but it was closer this time, not muffled by the fog as before. She wanted to flee, but not knowing who or what was in the mist she stayed, her feet planted to the earth. The thuds started coming quicker now as if whoever was approaching had increased their pace. Sterling turned when she thought the sound came from behind her, but as soon as she turned the sound came from another direction.
“Show yourself!”
Sterling turned again when a louder thud, clearer than any of the others sounded just behind her. The fog swayed and swirled as if something had disturbed it. She kept her eyes trained on the mist looking for any other hint of movement. Just then a shadow darkened the moonlit fog. Sterling’s heart stopped at the size of the shadow as it grew darker against the light of the fog. A smell like nothing she’d ever experienced before wafted from the thick mist followed by a deep growl that seemed to come from the depths of the earth. Sterling backed away from the shadow afraid of what would step thr
ough the mist. She was surprised, her eyes widening, when the sound of a child laughing emerged from the fog.
She knew that laugh. She’d heard it so many times the sound had been etched into her brain. Tears gathered as a child sized shadow emerged from the fog. “Brigit,” Sterling whispered aloud to herself. A smile spread across her lips at the familiar sight.
Brigit stood just inside the clearing where the fog thinned. Her sweet round face was smiling back at Sterling, her eyes echoing Sterling’s own joy. The little girl wore a white gown with a red bodice. Sterling’s smile faded as she realized the red in the dress was stained with the blood.
“Oh Brigit.”
Sterling wanted to run to the little girl and take her into her arms. She wanted to apologize for everything. The words were on the tip of her tongue when Brigit, still smiling, limped toward Sterling. She stooped so she could be at eye level with the little girl, and looked into Brigit’s eyes and what she saw caused Sterling’s smile to fade. There was something off about Brigit’s eyes. There was what she could only call a shining malevolence.
“Why did you leave us?” Brigit asked. The question caught Sterling off guard. A sharp pain echoed in her chest.
“I’m sorry,” Sterling whispered, hoping to see the light return to Brigit’s blue eyes, “I’m so sorry.”
“They burned them.” Brigit’s brow furrowed as she took a step forward. “Did you hear their screams as they burned?”
Sterling hadn’t heard the screams. She’d been trapped in the cellar while the Severon had set the chapel ablaze.
“It is your fault,” Brigit accused. Sterling’s eyes widened as Brigit’s voice bounced off the walls of the dense fog. “It’s your fault,” the little girl repeated the words again.
“I know –” Sterling tried to speak.
“It’s your fault,” Brigit interrupted again. The small girl’s once childish voice had vanished to be replaced by one with a dark malevolent undertone.
The Elemental Union: Book One Devian Page 18
