Warrior of the Isles

by Debbie Mazzuca

  Syrena lifted the deer’s head from her lap and gently placed it on a pillow of hay. She came to her feet, but didn’t try to close the gap between them. “I told you, I’m your sister. Don’t you remember me, Lachlan? When you were a little boy, you came to me in my mind.”

  A look of panic darkened his chiseled features. “Go. Leave here, now!”

  “It’s the truth, Lachlan. You are my brother, and I can’t leave you. I’ve come to take you home with me.”

  “I said leave here. I don’t want ye anywhere near me.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard before pushing her away from him. “I want nothin’ to do with ye.”

  Her breath came in painful gasps, his rejection a tight fist closing around her heart. But she couldn’t let it end, not like this. “Please, Lachlan, I understand your shock, but we must talk. We’re family.”

  He shook his head vehemently from side to side. “No’ another word. Get away from here before I can no longer control myself. Yer kind has brought nothin’ but sorrow to my family. If my brother finds out what ye are, he’ll kill ye with his bare hands.”

  The force of his anger caused her to take a step back. His face was a terrifying mask of fury, and well-honed muscles bunched in his big arms. She swallowed past her fear to plead with him, “But you’re part Fae. You’re a part of me. How can you hate me? I never forgot you. I always remembered that scared little boy you once were.” He kept his gaze averted from hers, but she continued, hoping to reach him, to somehow make him understand. “I loved you then, even though I didn’t yet know you were my brother.”

  He covered his ears with his hands. “Stop it. I willna listen to ye. I’m no’ like ye. I’ll never be like ye. I doona want to be.”

  She pressed her hand to her mouth. How could he hate her? She’d never done anything to hurt him. All she wanted was for him to love her.

  He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, burying his face in his knees. Syrena swallowed what little pride she had left and crouched by his side. She laid her hand on his shoulder. She would leave. She never meant to cause him pain. “I’m sorry, Lachlan. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I . . . I thought you’d be as happy to find me as I was to find you.”

  He lifted his tearstained face and wiped away the moisture with the back of his hand. His gaze searched hers. “Please, go.”

  She came slowly to her feet. “I will, but all I ask is that you let me come back and check on my deer. I won’t bother you or your brother. I promise.”

  He glanced from her to the animal asleep in the hay. “And ye give yer word never to mention this again?”

  “I do,” she whispered.

  “Ye may come back to check on yer pet, but that is all.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she pushed open the stable door. “Good-bye, Lachlan.”

  “I do remember ye. I could never forget ye,” he said so quietly she almost didn’t hear him.

  Syrena turned her face to the fading light streaming through the open door so he would not see the hope his simple acknowledgment ignited in her. Afraid if he did, he would find the words to take it away from her, just like her father always had.

  “Princess, princess.” An urgent whisper came from the side of the stable.

  Syrena peeked around the corner and Evangeline grabbed her hand, jerking her to her side. “Evangeline, what in the name of Fae are you doing here? How—”

  “We must hurry, princess. The Queen is searching for you.”

  “But how—”

  “There’s no time.”

  Syrena opened her mouth to protest, but before she had a chance to utter a word, Evangeline had transported them to the ring of standing stones.

  “Come . . . come.” Evangeline dragged her toward the largest of the stones.

  Syrena stubbed her shoeless foot on a rock. “Ouch! Oh, look, Evangeline, you’ve made me lose my slipper.”

  Her handmaiden lifted her eyes to the heavens and shook her head. Murmuring an incantation, she replaced Syrena’s shoe. “Princess, what happened?” Her gaze was fastened on the raised welt on Syrena’s chest.

  “A cat.”

  Her handmaiden shuddered then murmured another incantation.

  Syrena breathed a sigh of relief when she found herself clad in shimmering robes of white shot through with gold threads that concealed her wound. “Thank you.”

  Evangeline tugged on her hand, dragging her into the stone. No sooner had they come through to the other side, than her handmaiden transported them to her quarters.

  Syrena pressed her fingers to her temples, dizzy from the speed of Evangeline’s transportations. “Some warning would have been appreciated,” she remarked dryly.

  “There’s no time.” As she uttered the words, Morgana screeched in the outer hall. The door to Syrena’s chambers flew open and her stepmother flounced inside.

  “Oh, there you are, my dear. I’ve been looking all over for you. Your handmaiden has been no help at all,” she said, casting a look of pure malice in Evangeline’s direction.

  The look didn’t surprise Syrena. Morgana had never made an attempt to conceal her hatred of Evangeline. Syrena could not be sure, but thought perhaps her father’s admiration of her handmaiden the cause. The king had been enchanted by Evangeline’s long dark tresses and sultry beauty, and had made no secret of it. But as far as Syrena knew, he had never acted on his attraction. If he had, she was certain Evangeline would have told her.

  “I’m sorry, Morgana, I fell asleep by the lake.”

  “You’re forgiven.” Her stepmother patted her cheek. “You do look a bit peaked. Are you certain you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Although truthfully, she’d never felt worse, her heart battered by Lachlan’s rejection. “What is it you wanted me for?”

  “I’ve formed a new council. We are set to meet within the hour. It is only right you sit at my side, with the Sword of Nuada, of course.”

  Syrena sighed. “Don’t you remember, Morgana, the sword is with Uscias for repair?”

  Her stepmother’s gaze narrowed. “Do you question my authority, Syrena?”

  A chill raced down her spine. What had she gotten herself into? She couldn’t take a stand against her stepmother. The Fae were not behind her, she had no magick, and at the moment, she had no sword.

  “I simply state a fact. You can rest assured, Morgana, when the time comes I will have my sword.”

  “There is no call for impudence, Syrena.”

  Syrena just barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “Perhaps you are right. I’m not feeling my best.”

  Her stepmother clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Then return to your slumber, my dear. I have decided your presence is unnecessary.”

  “Your highness, I’m certain Princess Syrena does not wish to disappoint you. If you give her a few moments, she’ll be ready.”

  Syrena gaped at her handmaiden, and her stepmother glared at her. Fearing, this time, her handmaiden would not escape Morgana’s wrath. Syrena stepped in to fill the breach. “Evangeline is right. I will be with you momentarily.”

  The Queen muttered something under her breath, her crimson robes billowing behind her as she swept from the room.

  “Evangeline, whatever has come over you?” Syrena asked once they were alone.

  Her handmaiden wrung her hands, two bright spots appearing on her high cheekbones. “I know it’s not my place to say, my lady, but you have to take a stand. Let everyone know she does not rule alone. Mark my words, if you don’t, we shall all pay the price.”

  Chapter 5

  Aidan crossed the courtyard in search of Syrena. She’d yet to return to the hall and he imagined he’d find her with her wee pet nursing a fit of pique. He supposed he owed her an apology for his earlier behavior. She’d been none too pleased when he’d unceremoniously sent her on her way. Mayhap he’d been a little rough on her, but his brother had enflamed his temper and she’d only added to it with her obvious admiration of Lac
hlan.

  With a resigned sigh, he entered the stables, the doors squeaking open on their rusted hinges. Slivers of the setting sun penetrated the shadows, and he noted Syrena’s pet, struggling to stand.

  “Nay, ye’re no’ quite ready, girl. Down ye get.” He crouched beside the deer and held her in place until she settled back on a bed of sweet-smelling hay—obviously Syrena’s handiwork, since it would not be Tom’s. If the old man had his way, the doe would be gracing their tables this night.

  Aidan sat back on his heels, scanning the empty stalls. Where is she? A shuffling sound drew his attention. He looked to the opposite end of the stables to see his brother dragging himself to his feet.

  “Lan, I didna see ye there.” He frowned at the expression on his brother’s face. The lad looked like he’d lost his best friend. “What’s wrong with ye? I ken ye were no’ happy with what I had to say, but—” A sense of unease crawled up his spine as he looked from the deer to Lan. “What happened? What did ye do to her? I swear, Lan, if ye—”

  His brother’s gaze jerked from the stable doors, and he held up his hands. “Nay . . . nay, I didna do anythin’ to her. She left is all.”

  Aidan shot to his feet and strode toward Lan. “What do ye mean, left? She doesna’ even ken who she is. Where the bloody hell do ye think she would go?”

  “I doona ken.” His brother dragged his fingers through his hair then shot him a beseeching look. “Let her go, Aidan, just let her go. She’s no’ what . . . she’s no’ fer ye.”

  “What are ye babblin’ about? She’s injured, Lan, and she’s here under my protection. So help me, if ye—”

  “Nay, I wouldna hurt her. I couldna . . .” His brother’s voice trailed off. Lan rubbed his eyes with the backs of his grimy hands, reminding Aidan of the scared and lonely child his brother had once been.

  He squeezed Lachlan’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. “I ken somethin’ is troublin’ ye, lad, and after I’ve found Syrena, I think ’tis time we have a talk.”

  Lan lifted his gaze to his, shaking his head. “Nay, I doona think ye’d want to hear what I have to say. I’m sorry I disappointed ye, Aidan. I’ll no’ do so again.”

  Aidan didn’t suffer his brother’s rebellious arrogance easily, but at the moment, he’d prefer it to the defeated demeanor he now displayed.

  He threw a companionable arm over Lan’s shoulders. “Come, help me find Syrena, and when we do, we’ll have an ale together and ye can listen to her berate me fer my insufferable behavior.” He thought to garner at least a smile from his brother, but all Lan did was nod and walk stiffly by his side.

  “I doona ken where she’s at, Aidan, but I think she’ll be back on account of the deer,” Lan said, although to Aidan it sounded suspiciously like his brother hoped she wouldn’t be.

  “Aye.” Lachlan was right. She wouldn’t leave her pet.

  From outside the stables, Aidan scanned the empty courtyard and the wooded grounds bordering the keep. He released an exasperated sigh. Where the bloody hell had she gone and why? He rounded the side of the stables, and a shimmer of golden light caught his eye. He bent down and tugged a delicate slipper from the overgrown bush. It was Syrena’s.

  He slapped the shoe against his thigh, searching the woodlands for some sign of her. “Syrena,” he yelled, hoping for a response, frustrated when he received none. Something was wrong. She wouldn’t go traipsin’ about on her own, or would she? She’d been nothing but trouble since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And he was too busy trying to set castle and clan to rights to be spending time chasing after a wayward lass.

  He clenched the ridiculous excuse for a shoe in his hand. It was flimsy and delicate, not meant for the out of doors. Just like her. “I’m goin’ to look fer her. Tell Gavin and Donald to meet me here.”

  “Let her go, Aidan,” Lan said, his voice thick with emotion.

  “I canna do that. She’s under my protection. And I doona understand why ye’d want me to.” He searched his brother’s face, trying to gain some insight into what was going on inside that head of his.

  Lan looked away then shrugged. “She left of her own accord is all I’m sayin’.”

  “Nay, I doona think so. There’s more to it than that.”

  Color leeched from Lachlan’s sun-darkened face. “Why . . . why would ye think that?”

  Aidan narrowed his gaze on him, disturbed by his brother’s reaction until a wave of insight slapped him upside the head. The Lowlanders. Lachlan thought the Lowlanders had taken her in retaliation for the raid. Aidan wanted to shake him. Yell at him about the consequences of his actions, but he couldn’t do it. Not when it was so obvious how badly his brother felt. At the thought of Syrena in the hands of his enemies, anger and fear raged within him, squeezing the air from his lungs. Bloody hell, if they held her for ransom, how was he supposed to meet their demands?

  Syrena shifted from one foot to the other while Evangeline fussed with her hair, and the emerald green gown she’d worn the day before. She wished she could wear another, but she didn’t know how she’d explain the change of clothing to Aidan. Actually, that was the least of her worries. She’d yet to invent an excuse for where she’d been.

  Evangeline tucked a strand of hair behind Syrena’s ear, eyeing her with trepidation. “Are you certain about this, your highness?”

  “I just can’t leave him there, Evangeline. I can’t. I won’t. It’s a horrible place.” She shuddered at the memory of the bitter winds, the dreary landscape, and the hovel her brother lived in. “And truly, I don’t think he is happy there. Besides, I have no choice but to fulfill my quest. You know that as well as I.”

  “Of course, my lady.” Her dark head bent, she chewed on her lower lip, smoothing the fabric at Syrena’s waist.

  She stilled Evangeline’s hand. “Is there something you’re keeping from me? I know you’re worried about some of the changes Morgana is making. And I admit banishing Lord Bana and Lord Erwn may not have been the smartest move on her part, but they attempted to turn the men against her when all she has tried to do is improve the lot of the women.”

  For the most part Syrena had been pleased with the council meeting. Her motion to have the servants’ children cared for while their mothers worked had been readily accepted. The laws she wished to change were being taken into consideration, although she imagined part of her success was due to the fact the council was now made up entirely of women. But like Evangeline, she was somewhat concerned how the Fae men would fare under Morgana’s rule.

  “It was not Queen Morgana’s actions I referred to, my lady, but since you bring it up, I must tell you I . . .” Evangeline dipped her head. “I beg your pardon, your highness, it’s not my place.”

  She reached for Evangeline’s hand. “You must always feel free to speak your mind with me. Truly, you are the only one I trust. I think of you as my friend.”

  Evangeline smiled. “Thank you, my lady, but my real concern lies in your return to the Mortal realm. I don’t wish to upset you, but I’m anxious for your safety. I worry what your brother will do to you.”

  Syrena tugged at her sleeve, trying to banish her brother’s words from her head. “He did agree that I could come and check on my deer, and honestly, I can’t believe he doesn’t harbor some feelings for me. Maybe if he gets to know me, he’ll come to lo . . . like me.” She averted her gaze from her handmaiden’s knowing look.

  Evangeline took her hands within hers. “I’m certain you’re right, but what of his brother?”

  Her cheeks heated. Surely she hadn’t said anything to make Evangeline question her feelings for Aidan. Of course she hadn’t, she reassured herself. Why would she? The man was an ogre, and most likely the cause of her brother’s unhappiness. It was of no consequence that his gentle touch made her knees weak and her heart flutter, or that the warmth of his powerful arms made her feel safe and protected, something no Fae man had ever made her feel before. She cleared her throat. “He doesn’t matter. He is of no
consequence.”

  Evangeline arched an elegantly shaped brow. “No? Did Lachlan not say his brother would kill you with his bare hands if he found out who you were?”

  Syrena shuddered. She had tried to banish the words her brother yelled, pretend he hadn’t said them. But now, hearing Evangeline repeat them, she admitted to herself that it bothered her more than it should. Aidan had held her in his arms, quietened her fears, and to know he would wish to harm her if he learned that she was Fae was difficult to hear. Waving off her handmaiden’s question as though it were inconsequential, Syrena said, “We both know he can’t kill me, at least not with his bare hands.”

  “No, but he could hurt you.”

  “Yes . . . yes, he could.” In some ways, simply knowing he would hate her if he knew the truth about her had already accomplished that. She pushed the thought aside and hardened her resolve. “But it’s a risk I’m willing to take in hopes I can win over my brother. Trust me, Evangeline, I’ll be careful. I might not be brave, as you well know, but I am not stupid either.”

  “You are brave, princess, you just don’t choose to see it.”

  Syrena snorted. “You sound like Uscias, and speaking of him, if my stepmother questions you about my whereabouts, tell her I’m staying at his cottage. And that he’s teaching me all I need to know about my sword. Hopefully that will appease her.”

  “If I can’t dissuade you from remaining in the Mortal realm, then the least I can do is circumvent the Queen from discovering what it is you are up to.”

  She nibbled her finger. The last thing she wanted to dwell upon was what her stepmother would do if she discovered what she was up to. She couldn’t help but think Morgana was striking back at the men for all she had suffered at her father’s hand. So how would she react when Syrena returned with her brother, a man her father expected to rule the Enchanted Isles? She pushed the thought to the far recesses of her mind. She had enough to contend with without worrying about that.

  “Actually, there is something else you can do for me, Evangeline. I’ve been thinking if I were to bring a gift to my brother, I might stand a better chance of winning him over.”