The Silkie's Call

by Laura Browning

  Riordan cleared his throat. “We have gathered to hear the charges against Ciaran Clifton, second son of Carrick, Lord of the Northwest Atlantic Quadrant. Faeran please read the charges.”

  Faeran unrolled a scroll and held it up before him. “Ciaran Clifton, you are charged with the attack on your brother Cayden with the intent to kill. In addition, you are charged with the kidnap and attempted murder of the human, Annabel Barton. Further, you are charged with the plotting and attempted murder of the Silkie Lord, Carrick Clifton.” Faeran re-rolled the scroll and looked at Ciaran. “What say you to these charges?”

  Ciaran stared defiantly at all of them and mutinously remained silent.

  Riordan stared down the length of the table, his eyes narrowed and his thick brows arched. “If you have nothing to say then let us begin. Cayden tell us about the night at what I believe you call ‘Bell’s Cove’.”

  Cayden related the events as he remembered them, up to the point where he lost consciousness and reverted back to human form. When he finished, it was Dylan who spoke.

  “So, if I understand you correctly, Ciaran’s initial attack occurred while you were in human form and he was in seal form?”

  “That’s correct, my lord.”

  There were several murmurs from around the table, but they quieted when Faeran spoke. “I would like to hear Annabel’s version of this story.”

  She glanced nervously around at the Silkie Lords. Carrick nodded to her encouragingly and Cayden reached over to cover her hand with his. “Cayden saw him first and shoved me back into the boat right before Ciaran slammed into him. Before he could do anything, Ciaran had slammed into him again, and Cayden cut his leg on the boat propeller.”

  “Did you know what they were?” one of the Pacific lords asked.

  She looked over at him with his slightly slanted liquid brown eyes. “No. Right before Cayden transformed he asked me to remember that no matter what I saw, he loved me. I realized almost immediately what he was, what they both were.

  “The fight was terrible. Cayden was already injured and Ciaran was the larger of the two. I yelled at them to stop, but it just kept on and on, the snarls and the sounds of their bodies slamming together. I knew we needed help so I crawled below deck and found the radio. I kept trying radio frequencies trying to reach the Skerry.”

  She looked at Carrick apologetically. “Carrick wouldn’t speak to me. I tried to radio again, just in case he still had it on and gave him our location.”

  “What happened then?” Faeran asked quietly.

  “I searched the cabin and found the flare gun and I crawled back on deck. Ciaran hovered over Cayden…” She stopped and swallowed, her eyes closing briefly as she remembered how frightened she had been.

  “Go on.”

  “Cayden was back in human form. He was so still. I was afraid Ciaran would kill him, if he wasn’t dead already. I pointed the flare gun at Ciaran and told him I would shoot him if he didn’t get away from Cayden.”

  “And did he?” Dylan inquired.

  “Yes. He disappeared into the water.”

  “So that left you in the boat and Cayden on shore?” Dylan sounded confused. “But I thought when Carrick arrived you were both on shore.”

  “I swam to him and pulled up onto the beach.”

  “You entered the water at night knowing Ciaran might be somewhere around?” The question came from Brayden, Lord of the Northeast Atlantic.

  Annabel turned her palms up in appeal. “I had to. Cayden was hurt. I didn’t know how badly. I had to go to him.”

  Carrick interrupted at that point. “When we finally arrived, Annabel was half on top of Cayden, I suppose to shield him, and armed with a spear gun.”

  “Would you have shot Ciaran?” Faeran asked curiously.

  Her hands clenched into fists as she gazed into eyes that reminded her of her own father’s. “Without a second thought.”

  “Tell us when you next saw Ciaran.” Riordan commanded.

  “I was staying at the Clifton’s house along the Connecticut shore. It was late and I hadn’t been able to sleep. I was sitting in my chair when he broke into the house.”

  “Tell them what you were about to do, Poppy,” Ciaran taunted. “Tell them how I knocked the pills from your hands!”

  “Silence!” Riordan roared and Annabel saw without any doubt the authority he had so far wielded with such casualness. He turned to Annabel. “Is this true?”

  “It is true.”

  “So he saved your life?”

  “Only because he would not let me take the easy way out, as he called it,” she retorted. “He bound my hands and carried me on board an old ski boat before taking me out to a rock that would disappear below the sea at high tide. That’s where he dumped me with my hands tied behind my back to wait for the water to rise and drown me.”

  She described how the water rose while Ciaran worked on other booby traps.

  “But how did you finally get loose? Did Cayden and Carrick free you?”

  “No. Catriona did.”

  There were several looks of confusion around the table, although Annabel noticed Faeran wasn’t one of them. His expression was serious, but not unkind as he said. “You must explain. We were told that Catriona and your brother were at your house and came up by car.”

  Annabel looked around at all of them. “I heard her thoughts. Is that unusual? I have spoken to Carrick that way, and I think also Cayden, though not as clearly.”

  Brayden, who sat next to her, touched her arm. She turned to look at him questioningly, barely registering the fact that his eyes were also a deep, mesmerizing blue.

  Can you hear me now?

  Yes. Just like I hear Faeran.

  When Brayden’s head suddenly swiveled to Faeran, the Silkie noble smiled ever so slightly.

  “Catriona reminded me of an amusing situation from my childhood, and I simply tried to do again what she helped me to remember.”

  “And what was that?” Brayden prompted.

  “I rotated my shoulders and arms and slipped them over my head until they were in front of me. Then I used my teeth to untie the rope.”

  Riordan smiled at her. “You are a very resourceful and determined young woman, but we will talk more about that tomorrow. Right now you must tell us what you saw of Ciaran.”

  She told them about him slamming into her as she tried to reach the boat and what she saw of Ciaran and Cayden locked in battle. Then she told of looking for Carrick and finding him entangled in fishing net below.

  Annabel’s shoulders slumped a bit as she finished. Cayden put his arm around her and she leaned her head against him. “I’m sorry, my lords. I fear that is all that I can tell you.”

  Cayden stood and looked toward Riordan, Faeran and Dylan. “I beg your indulgence, your graces. Please allow me to take Bell back to her cabin. She is still not completely recovered and needs to rest.”

  Riordan nodded. “We have heard what we need to hear from both of you. Carrick can fill in the gaps and Ciaran if he chooses.”

  When Cayden brought her crutches to her, Annabel looked up at him and whispered, “I’m cramping. You’ll have to carry me.”

  He lifted her effortlessly. “It’s all right, Bell.”

  She lifted her pale face to the Silkie lords. “Thank you for hearing me. I’m sorry…”

  Her voice trailed off and her mouth tightened with the pain of a cramp arcing down her thigh and into her calf. Cayden waited no longer, he spun on his heel and hurried out of the room, directing a crew member standing at the door to find Taylor to help.

  ****

  Carrick watched Cayden and Annabel leave, worry furrowing his brow. He could still not completely resign himself to allowing them to be together, but he also could deny them no longer. It was plain even to him that they belonged together, but it brought him no joy. He could see no happy ending when she was so limited.

  “Lord Carrick, perhaps you would relate more of this tale to us?”

&
nbsp; He stared sadly at his younger son. Ciaran still wore a look of anger and defiance, but Carrick also saw the hurt that lay beneath it. No one would win in this situation, not Ciaran, Cayden, Annabel, and especially not he and Catriona. Any way around it, they would lose a son. And if he could not get the Council to accept Cayden and Annabel, then he and Cat could very well lose both sons.

  “The cove had been booby trapped,” he began and continued to recount what he could remember of the ski boat hitting an object and exploding just as he and Cayden managed to jump clear. Ciaran had then been on him while he was dazed from the blast, dragging him down and tangling him in the net below water. It had made it impossible for him to transform. He spared nothing in explaining how Annabel had come after him, freeing him and nearly sacrificing herself to do so.

  Finally, he explained how he had gone to Cayden’s aid, overpowering Ciaran and forcing him to change. At last he finished. For a moment he was silent and then he looked up and around the council.

  “I cannot condone what Ciaran has done. I can’t even begin to understand it. Yet, he is my son. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t look at all of you now and humbly beg you to at least spare his life? It would break his mother’s heart, and mine too, to have this day end with his death. I must refuse to make a decision on this, but I beg you to spare him.”

  Riordan’s dark eyes were sad. “It brings us no joy either. We are all kin, and we must fight to preserve our kind. When any one of us leaves the fold or puts himself beyond redemption, it must be a tragedy for all of us. Remove Ciaran to his cabin until we have discussed this.”

  “I would go with my son.”

  Riordan nodded. “Return in one hour. We will pass judgment.”

  ****

  Cayden and Taylor both massaged her, and Taylor had already slipped her painkillers, but Annabel’s cries could still be heard throughout the ship as they fought to ease the cramps knotting the muscles in her legs. Catriona stroked her hair and tried to soothe her. From the doorway, Carrick watched in horror.

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Her body has been through too much and she’s had no time to recover,” Cayden snapped. “My God, father, it’s been only two days since Ciaran’s attack, since she nearly died saving you! It would tax even the strongest of us. She cannot appear before the Council tomorrow. She cannot!”

  “She must! If you are to have any chance to make your petition, she must!”

  Cayden saw the agony in Annabel’s face. “I’ll live as a human.”

  “No!” Carrick and Catriona spoke simultaneously, but it was his mother who continued. “Please Cayden. Before this day is over, I will lose one son. I cannot bear to lose you both. Don’t ask it of me.”

  “I. Will. Be. Ready.” Annabel got out between clenched teeth. Her eyes held a glazed look that told them the painkillers had kicked in. Her screams subsided to whimpers, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes and rolling along her temples and into her sweat dampened hair. She swallowed and looked at Catriona’s pale face. “Momma,” she slurred through the haze of the drugs.

  Catriona frowned as she stroked her hand across her forehead and wiped the tears from her face. When she looked up at her husband, she saw her own pain reflected in the lean planes of his face. This was as hard or harder on him.

  “She’ll sleep now,” Taylor said. “The longer she does the better. It will help her recover.”

  Carrick’s nostrils flared. “It’s time to go back.”

  ****

  Ciaran stood before the Council of Silkie Lords, flanked by his guards. Behind him stood Carrick, Catriona and Cayden. Riordan stood up, his gray hair flowing and his dark eyes sad. He spoke formally in the old language.

  “Ciaran Clifton, we have listened to the words of your father and brother and to the words of the human, Annabel. We have heard the pleas of your father, and felt those of your mother. You, however, have refused to tell us anything with which we could either condemn or condone. I give you one last chance.”

  Ciaran looked around at all of them. “I have nothing to say in my defense. I will accept whatever is your judgment.”

  Faeran and Dylan stood, coming around to where Ciaran stood while Riordan finished his pronouncement. “We have heard your parents and will not put you to death, but we hereby sentence you to live as a human until such time you can prove you have developed compassion, understanding and some love for others to balance out the warrior instincts you have in abundance. Remove his sealskin.”

  Short of a death sentence, taking a pelt was the most severe form of punishment.

  Faeran bent, murmuring softly as he moved his hand gracefully around Ciaran’s ankle. The leather bracelet fell into his hand. He stood once more and gave it to Catriona whose beautiful green eyes filled with unshed tears. She cradled the pelt as if it were Ciaran that she held.

  “You must keep it safe for him in the hope that he will earn it back and be able to take his rightful place among us once more.” Faeran’s deep blue eyes were somber.

  “You will come with his grace and me now, Ciaran,” Dylan told him quietly. Ciaran nodded. For just a moment, his dark brown eyes turned to his mother and father. It was the first sign he had shown that he felt anything at all. There was a flash of vulnerability and then it was gone, a bitter brightness taking its place.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Where are you taking him?” Catriona asked quietly.

  Faeran’s jaw was tight and for a moment it looked like he would ignore her question. Finally, he replied, “He will be set adrift in a boat with three days of food and water. After that he is on his own.”

  She nodded, and then stepped hastily forward to hug him tightly. “Be safe, my son,” she whispered brokenly.

  He squeezed her tightly and then turned and left with Faeran and Dylan.

  Chapter 21

  It was dark when she awakened, and Annabel wasn’t quite sure what it was that roused her. Perhaps it was the dream, a wonderful dream in which she swam and played in the water as fluidly as any of the seals that surrounded her. They accepted her as one of their own and allowed her to play and sleep in the sun with them. She had no physical limitations, but then she realized that she not only swam with them, she was one of them.

  She stared at the ceiling. It was an old dream; one she first had as a child. Then it had been a fantasy, now it was a taunt. To be able to move with no limitations? Wishful thinking.

  Is it? Or does your subconscious not already know?

  She froze, and then slowly reached over to switch on the lamp next to the bed.

  No. I am not in your room, but I do wish to speak with you. May I?

  It’s the middle of the night.

  Yes, but the time is now right.

  She sighed. Very well, your grace.

  The cabin door opened quietly and Faeran, Duke of the Atlantic stepped inside. His overpowering presence at once made the cabin seem small. With a casual glance at his surroundings, he spotted the chair next to the bed and lowered his large frame into it. He no longer wore traditional Silkie garb, now dressed in khakis and a tee shirt that loudly proclaimed “I got shucked at Stan’s Clam Bar.”

  Annabel hid a small smile.

  Faeran looked down suspiciously. “Is it the shirt? Carrick was very willing to let me borrow it. Perhaps too willing I now think.”

  She giggled. Carrick had to have done it on purpose. Faeran smiled and leaned back comfortably. “Ah, if it makes you laugh, then it is well worth the expense to my ego.”

  It was an interesting thing to say, as if he cared what she thought or how she felt.

  I do.

  Annabel glared. “Stop it, your grace! I don’t understand all of your Silkie ways, but it seems pretty rude to me to keep barging right into my own personal thoughts.”

  He inclined his dark head. “My apologies. My brother Brayden and I wished to speak to you before tomorrow. There are things you must know.”

  S
he remembered Brayden. He’d sat next to her earlier in the day. She vaguely recalled that the two men looked similar, but she had been so nervous at the time that was all she could recall. She lifted still slightly sleep muddled eyes to Faeran. “Is he here, too?”

  Faeran nodded. “Waiting outside.”

  Annabel sat up. “Could you hand me my robe, please?”

  Faeran looked confused.

  “You’re sitting on it.”

  He leaned forward, pulled the thin silk wrap from behind his back and handed it to her. “Do you need any help?”

  She scowled at him. “Hand me my crutches, then go outside and get Lord Brayden while I get out of bed.”

  He inclined his head with a faint quirk of his wide, mobile mouth at her imperious tone. He stood up with a bow. “I’ll take that as a no. As you wish, my lady.”

  She looked up at him, startled. “Why do you say that?”

  He merely smiled and let himself out of the cabin.

  She watched him go with a frown. He spoke in rhymes and riddles she didn’t understand, and she particularly didn’t understand why the two men wanted to speak to her in the middle of the night. As nervous as they made her, she wasn’t frightened, didn’t believe she had any reason to be scared. Belting the robe around her waist, Annabel used her crutches to get to her wheelchair. Once she had settled herself in it, she wheeled over to the cabin door and opened it.

  Faeran and Brayden stood just outside, talking quietly. Their heads turned at the same time toward her and she saw then how much they looked alike.

  “Where do you wish to speak, my lords?” she asked quietly.

  The two men looked at each other, and then Faeran spoke. “We would prefer your cabin for now.”

  He opened the door and Annabel wheeled herself back in. With a deft turn of the wheel, she spun her chair to face them. “Don’t you think it’s enough that I will be called before your Council again? Do you also have to drag me from my sleep?”