The House of Gaian ta-3

by Anne Bishop

  "Yes," Gwenn replied softly. "I think so."

  Her patience worn thin, Ashk dismounted, prepared to insist that they discuss where the army waiting for orders could make camp.

  Then she saw the black-haired woman race around the side of the manor house and come to an abrupt stop, her attention focused on the woods. Joy lit her face, and her resemblance to Rhyann was strong enough for Ashk to guess her identity. When her attention shifted to the newcomers and the joy faded, there was no doubt in Ashk's mind that this was the woman who had shaken the Fae enough to come down from Tir Alainn. There was no doubt that the woman now walking toward them was Selena, the Lady of the Moon . . . and the Huntress.

  Ashk walked forward to meet her, aware of the tension starting to fill the people behind her. They stopped at the same time, close enough that one leap in their other forms would have them at each other's throats.

  "I am Ashk, the Hunter," Ashk said.

  Selena studied Ashk, her eyes searching for something. "Shadow hound."

  "Yes."

  They studied each other, searching, measuring—and finally smiling in approval of what each saw in the other.

  "Are you being bossy again?" a voice asked.

  Ashk clenched her teeth. It had been too much to hope that Rhyann would follow orders—and seeing the temper flash in Selena's eyes made her wish she could change into her other form and give Rhyann a sharp nip.

  "Some people wouldn't have to be bossy if other people did what they were told," Selena snapped.

  Here, here, Ashk thought, turning enough to see Rhyann walking toward them, followed by Breanna and the others.

  "And some people just like being bossy," Rhyann replied with a sweetness designed to spike another woman's temper. "I kept my promise to Father. I came to this side of the hills with an entire army as an escort. Who came with you?"

  Selena made an indescribable sound.

  "There's an army?" Breanna asked.

  "Yes," Rhyann replied. "Fae, human, and Sons and Daughters of the House of Gaian." She gave Selena an annoyingly sweet smile. "Why don't you and the Hunter go discuss whatever you need to discuss, and I'll help—" She looked inquiringly at Breanna.

  "Breanna," Breanna said.

  "I'll help Breanna sort things out here."

  Mother's mercy, Ashk thought, wondering how much longer it would be before Selena simply exploded.

  But the Huntress gave Ashk a look that could sear flesh and snarled, "I'll saddle my horse and meet you at the arch near the stables."

  Watching Selena stride toward the stables and the arch, Ashk grabbed Aiden's arm, pulled him aside, and said in a low voice, "Use your gift, Bard, and smooth things over as best you can here."

  Aiden gave her a weak smile. "I'll ask Lyrra to join us. She and Breanna deal well together."

  "Do what you think best." She saw a dark-haired man come round the corner of the house, check his stride when he noticed the new arrivals, and continue toward them slowly.

  "Do you have any advice about dealing with featherheaded older brothers?" Ashk heard Breanna ask.

  "Of course," Rhyann replied cheerfully. "I'm very good at being a younger sister. I've been practicing all my life."

  Aiden grabbed Ashk's arm, his blue eyes filled with alarm. Ashk just patted his hand and pulled away. "Do what you can, Bard."

  As she hurried back to her horse, she knew with absolute certainty that, no matter what mood the Huntress was in, by leaving Aiden to deal with annoyed barons and younger sisters, she was getting the better side of the bargain.

  Aiden wondered how he was supposed to smooth things over and get a message to Lyrra that he needed her. Then he remembered file letter in his saddlebags—and the hawk.

  Hurrying back to Minstrel, he made a "come here" gesture to the hawk. His stride faltered when he saw the hawk flutter to the ground and change into a man.

  What had Falco been up to here that he felt comfortable enough to change form where outsiders could see him?

  "Merry meet, Aiden," Falco said, smiling but a bit wary, as if he anticipated criticism from someone he considered a friend.

  "Merry meet, Falco," Aiden replied. "I see you've become acquainted with the ladies here."

  Falco stiffened. "You're not the only one who has a heart, Aiden. Breanna's brother has no reason—yet—to believe in a Fae Lord's ability to be loyal to a lover, but I thought you would understand since you and Lyrra—" He stopped. Looked away. "But it is different because you're both Fae."

  Falco and Breanna? Aiden wisely hid the grin of delight that might be mistaken for mockery. "I take it her brother disapproves?"

  "I can't blame him," Falco said quietly. "Not after—" He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at Aiden. "Do you know where the Black Coats got their Inquisitor's Gift of persuasion? Do you know where they got the power to draw magic from the land and twist it to create those nighthunter creatures?"

  A chill went through Aiden as he shook his head.

  "From us. They're children we abandoned in the human world because they weren't pure Fae. We enjoyed the women, both human and witches, and ignored the children we sired."

  "You don't know that," Aiden protested.

  "Yes, I do. Varden's men caught a Black Coat when Baron Liam's home was attacked a few days ago. We've kept it among ourselves—so far—but we know, Aiden."

  Staggered, Aiden rubbed his hands over his face. "The Inquisitors came from Wolfram."

  "Which only means it wasn't the Sylvalan Clans who had ignored those men when they were young. What about the children here? There are some. You know there are. Mother's mercy, Aiden, the Huntress is one of them. So I don't blame Liam for being reluctant to accept that I'm staying."

  Aiden stumbled as he reached Minstrel. Leaning against the horse, he noticed how his hands shook while he tried to open the saddlebag. "We'll talk more about it later, Falco. Right now, I need you to go into the woods and fetch Lyrra."

  He waited until Falco changed form again and flew off toward the trees before he pulled the letter out of the saddlebag. After he closed the saddlebag's flap, he leaned over and rested his forehead against the leather.

  As soon as she got back from her ride with Selena, he would have to tell Ashk what he'd learned about the Inquisitors. She needed to know about every weapon the enemy could bring to the fight—including their ability to control people through persuasion. But, right now, he had to do his best to smooth things over between men and women, brothers and sisters, gentries' sensibilities and witches' feelings. And he was gambling that the piece of wax-sealed paper would help him do that.

  As he walked back to the others, he noticed they'd split into two groups. Breanna and Gwenn were talking with Rhyann while the barons stood a few feet away, probably making plans for the army. He also noticed that the dark-haired man he assumed was the Baron of Willowsbrook—and Breanna's brother—kept glancing her way, as if to keep an eye on her.

  "Breanna?" Aiden held out the folded paper. "This is for you."

  Looking puzzled, Breanna studied the blob of sealing wax, then looked at him. "What is it? A song?"

  "I don't think so. We met up with a messenger heading east. Since I was coming to Willowsbrook anyway, he entrusted me to deliver this to you in exchange for taking messages back to the west."

  Still puzzled, she turned the paper over—and stared at the writing.

  "Mother's mercy." She broke the wax seal, opened the paper, and started to read. Her eyes filled with tears. Then she laughed. "Jenny. It's from my cousin Jenny. She and Mihail have found safe harbor somewhere in the west. And Tremaine's sons are with them. They got out. They escaped."

  As Gwenn slid a comforting arm around Breanna, Aiden saw her brother break away from the other men.

  "Breanna?" he enquired, his voice sharp with concern, his eyes fixed on Aiden with suspicion.

  Laughing and crying, Breanna shook her head. "They found safe harbor. I have to tell Fiona and Gran. And Mihail's wife. Oh,
she's been desperate for any news of him." She threw her arms around Aiden's neck and choked him with the hug. "Oh, thank you, Aiden. Thank you." Spinning around, she almost knocked Liam over as she ran to the house.

  Gwenn and Rhyann hurried after her.

  Aiden looked at the man who continued to stare back at him. "You're the Baron of Willowsbrook?"

  "I'm Liam."

  Aiden extended his hand in the human way of greeting. "Aiden. The Bard."

  Some of the tension in Liam eased as he slipped his hand into Aiden's. "Breanna has mentioned you."

  "No matter what she's said, I'm not taking the dog."

  Liam grinned as they turned and looked at the small black dog, who was still sound asleep under the tree. They watched Lyrra ride up, slow her horse as she, too, looked at the dog and shook her head, and finally rein in when she reached them.

  "I saw Breanna run into the house," Lyrra said. "What's wrong?"

  Aiden shook his head. "The letter I had for her was good news. The kind women like to cry over."

  "And men never shed tears? Ha!" Lyrra shoved the reins into the closest pair of hands—which happened to be Liam's—and ran to the house.

  "I'll take those," Aiden said, holding out a hand for the reins. "You've other business to attend to."

  Nodding, Liam returned to the other barons.

  Well, Aiden thought as he led Lyrra's horse toward the watering trough in the stableyard, with Minstrel and the barons' horses following, it isn't exactly what Ashk intended when she 'd asked me to smooth things over, but it will keep everyone occupied for a while.

  They ran. There was no need for human speech. A yip, a soft growl, a wag of a tail was all either needed as commentary about the sounds and smells their heightened senses picked up.

  It felt strange to roam the land with another shadow hound, especially another strong bitch. Selena fought against the instinct to surrender more to the animal nature and push a confrontation that would decide dominance. Perhaps because she knew, deep down, that Ashk had lived in this form in ways that she had not, and that experience would win in a fight.

  So she trotted beside the Hunter, pleased with how easily they moved together.

  Then she picked up a strange scent and moved off on her own to investigate. A bad smell. Bitter. Foul. The trail seemed to lead to the dead tree among the stand of trees up ahead.

  She started forward, then yipped in pain and surprise when Ashk nipped her flank. She rounded on Ashk, her teeth bared, her hackles raised. But Ashk's attention was focused on the trees, and the snarl rising from her throat spoke of deadly anger.

  Ashk backed away, her attention never leaving the stand of trees.

  Selena paused a moment to sniff the scent again. When she was in human form, the smell would be much weaker, but she would recognize it again.

  Ashk trotted away, stopping every few yards to look back and study the trees. Selena followed, puzzled by the Hunter's behavior. When the trees were a field away, Ashk settled into a ground-eating trot that a shadow hound could sustain for hours.

  Finally they reached the top of a rise beyond the village of Willowsbrook. Flat land stretched before them—grass and wild-flowers. Beyond the field, more woodland took over. The road cut through the woodland and the field, curving leisurely around the rise they stood on as it continued on its way to the village and the surrounding farms and estates.

  Almost in the center of the field was a tumbled pile of huge stones, as if a giant child had taken blocks of stone to play with, built them up, then knocked them down. There would be a warren of hiding places among those stones. An enemy entrenched there wouldn't be attacked or driven out easily.

  She didn't like those stones. She didn't know why, but they made her hackles rise.

  Ashk shifted back to human form. Reluctantly, Selena did the same.

  "This is the place," Ashk said quietly as she studied the land. "This is where we'll stand and fight. The Black Coats will take cover among the trees to hide the strength of their army, but they won't hide as well as they hope to. The woods will watch them. Birds will give warning. We'll know when they arrive. We can hold this high ground, use it to cover our own movements. The village is behind us, and if we defend the road here, we can keep it protected. The wounded will be sent to the Old Place. It's closer to the Mother's Hills, and that will give our people a better chance of getting the wounded to safety if we're forced back and have to choose another battleground."

  Selena looked out at the grass and wildflowers. Looked away from the tumble of stones. "That's what you see here? A battleground?"

  Ashk nodded. "It's a good place to fight. As good as any I've seen today."

  A shiver went through Selena. Not because there would be a fight, but because Ashk sounded so calm about it. Feeling unsettled, she asked, "What was that smell back there? The foul one?"

  "Nighthunters. I'll have to talk to the witches, maybe even the baron, to find out how many we have to cleanse from the woods here." Ashk continued to study the land. She paused for a long moment as her eyes focused on the stones, then went on. "We have to hunt them down. And I'll have to find out if any of the Clans brought Fae who are Death's Servants. We can bury the bodies of the dead, but their spirits will still be a feast that will draw the nighthunters, no matter what we do to stop them."

  Selena swallowed the sick feeling rising from the pit of her stomach. "Feast?"

  Ashk looked at her. "Some of us will die here, Huntress. Many of us will die here. It's not just flesh and blood that nighthunters devour. They feast on the ghosts, the spirits of the dead. So the spirits of our dead need to be taken to the Shadowed Veil as quickly as possible. To keep them safe. To let them go on to the Summerland."

  "Mother's mercy," Selena whispered.

  "We'd better get back," Ashk said, turning away from the field. "We need to put the time we have left to good use."

  Selena followed Ashk down the rise. Changing back into shadow hounds, they loped to the field where they had left the horses.

  Many of us will die here.

  She'd known that. Of course she had. But it had remained unspoken when she and Breanna, Fiona, Nuala, and Elinore had discussed the best places to house the wounded and how to divide the people with healing skills among those places. None of them had mentioned Death's Servants or the Shadowed Veil.

  And that is the difference between us, she thought as she and Ashk rode back to the Old Place. As the Huntress, she would be justice . . . and vengeance . . . when it was needed. But the Hunter always saw the things that lived within Life's shadows and wouldn't ignore or deny them. As the Hunter, Ashk would be Death's ally . . . and Death's weapon.

  Aiden resisted the urge to shift position again, but after his hands had curled hard enough to hurt on the top stones of the pasture wall, he tucked them under his arms. His fingertips were sore from the few minutes he'd taken to work with his harp before Ashk and Selena returned, and he was still very aware of how much he might have lost if it hadn't been for the power of Rhyann's gifts.

  But it wasn't Ashk's silence that made him edgy as they leaned against one of Baron Liam's pasture walls. It was learning that there were nighthunters out there, somewhere, that made him yearn for solid walls and thick doors and shutters. He was grateful Liam had found room for them at his house. Several of the gentry had offered accommodations to the midland barons and the Fae leaders, but knowing there were some of those creatures out there wasn't going to let anyone rest easy—not when there were so many men living out on the land. At least a warning had been sent to the farms nearest the place where Ashk had caught the nighthunters' scent, and all the camps would post guards to keep watch.

  Aiden found no comfort in the fact that he and Ashk were in the open, or that despite the distance the Fae and humans were giving them for privacy, they were hardly alone. Or unarmed.

  Ashk had her bow and a full quiver, and even in the waning light, he doubted she would miss anything within range of her arrow
s.

  Still, he shifted again, unable to remain calm when every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig made his heart jump.

  As if telling the Hunter what he'd learned about the Inquisitors wasn't enough to make his heart bounce inside his chest.

  "Well," Ashk finally said, "that explains, in some part, why the Black Coats hate witches and the Fae as much as they do."

  "In some part? I think it explains it well enough," Aiden replied.

  Ashk looked at the land. "No. Only in part, Aiden. When the Fae who had lived in the pieces of Tir Alainn anchored to the Old Places in Wolfram ignored the children they had sired in the human world, it would have created some hardship for those human families—and ill feelings in others. The Fae didn't understand, or chose to ignore, the consequences of indulging their whims. It changed them, distanced them from the world. But some of the humans must have changed, too, and some of the witches as well. Maybe they were too far away from their roots to remember who they were. Maybe they saw what others had and envied it to the point where they could no longer see what they had. Maybe they tried to grasp too hard to gain the thing they desired, and by doing so, pushed it further away. The world is always changing, Bard, and we change with it—even those of us who are firmly rooted in who and what we are. So maybe everything changed in Wolfram, or nothing changed, or the wrong things changed, and a hole full of wanting was created in people's hearts—and that wanting opened the way for a man like the Master Inquisitor to come into power. We'll never know what happened in Wolfram. All we can do is take care of what is here."

  "We have enough reason to regret what we haven't done here," Aiden said with a trace of bitterness.

  Ashk turned her head and looked into his eyes. "Do you?"

  Aiden hesitated, then shook his head. "My friends used to tease me, saying that I was too in love with music to taste the other pleasures to be had in the human world." He smiled self-consciously. "That wasn't quite true. There were some moonlit walks with pretty maids and sweet kisses. But that was all. When I left a village, the only thing I left with a maid was a song and a memory." His smile faded. "I'm grateful for that now, grateful I'm not one of the men who has to wonder if he'll meet a son on that battlefield. Even more grateful I don't have to wonder if a daughter I sired has died under the Black Coats' hands. When this is over, I imagine there will be some Fae men who will travel to a village or an Old Place they haven't thought of in years. Just to see. Just to know."