The Seventh Daughter

by Frewin Jones

  “The man in the moon took off his gown,

  blew his candle out, took his lantern down,

  put on his very best robes he did,

  to merry-make till dawn, till dawn,

  to merry-make till dawn…”

  They moved to the side of the road as the wagon approached. “Don’t speak unless you have to,” Edric warned Tania. “He’ll be suspicious of the way you talk.” He stepped forward with his arms raised. “Hail!” he called. “Three lost wayfarers seek aid this stormy night!”

  The driver yanked on the reins and the horses came to a halt. “What is this, by the rood! Lost wayfarers? Surely ’tis madness to be abroad on such a night! Nay, do not trouble yourself to answer, climb up into my wagon, there is room and to spare. I carry provisions—you will find cloaks. Wrap yourselves and be at ease. And then you shall tell me how three such draggled wretches as yourselves happen to be upon Cock o’ the Walk Road in such weather.”

  It was a relief to be out of the rain and the wind. The wagon was filled with grain sacks and boxes of fruit and vegetables, as well as tied bundles that included warm woolen cloaks with deep hoods. They swaddled themselves in cloaks and Edric told the friendly driver the story they had concocted. He seemed to accept it without question. Word had already reached Weir of the troubles in the south, and he understood their wish to get away from danger.

  “But whither do you go?” he asked. “In these times, travelers from the south may not always expect a friendly greeting in Weir, not since the King dishonored the Court by banishing our lord Gabriel.”

  A knot of fear tightened in Tania’s stomach. “You know about that?” she burst out. Edric glanced at her in alarm, but the driver answered her without suspicion.

  “Aye, lass,” he said. “’Tis said Lord Gabriel fell foul of the schemes and devices of the Royal Court, through no fault of his own.” He shook his head. “They are a devious breed, the House of Oberon Aurealis.”

  Tania saw Cordelia’s eyes blaze, but Edric managed to snatch hold of her arm and stop her from pouncing on the man’s back. She subsided, glaring at him but saying nothing.

  “We heard a different tale,” Edric said cautiously. “We heard that Gabriel Drake’s punishment was warranted.”

  “I dare say they speak differently of the matter in the south,” he said. “But I would keep such counsel to yourself while you travel through Weir, lest your tongues betray you and you find you have escaped one peril only to fall foul of another.” He flicked the reins. “And be especially prudent with your words when we come to journey’s end this night.”

  “Why?” Tania asked. “Where are we going?”

  “Why, to Caer Liel, lass,” said the man. “And look you now—there it lies!”

  Tania got to her knees and peered over the driver’s shoulder. They had just rounded a hump of rock and there, at the end of a long, steep valley, perched high on the shoulders of a great black mountain, she saw the high bleak walls and leaping red watch-lights of the fortress of the House of Weir—birthplace of the man she dreaded above all others, ancestral home to the family of Gabriel Drake.

  XV

  Tania gripped Edric’s hand, filled with foreboding as the wagon came to the top of the long zigzag path that led to the castle gatehouse. We shouldn’t be here! The towers of Weir reached into the stormy sky like crooked, grasping fingers. Banners cracked in the wind and rain poured in cataracts off the battlements. A cloaked man stepped from a postern gate and spoke briefly with their driver before disappearing into shadow again. The huge wooden doors, studded with black stone, swung slowly open. The driver gave a word of command to the horses and the wagon rumbled forward under the dark echoing gatehouse and into a cobbled courtyard.

  “I bid you farewell,” said the driver. “I must away to the stables, but you will need to present yourself to the captain of the guard. Fear not: He will not turn you away. And you are welcome besides to take the cloaks I loaned you.”

  “That is most kind,” said Edric.

  “Nay, lad, ’tis said that a generous heart is its own reward, and mayhap the spirits of fortune will grant me good grace for my deeds.”

  Tania and Cordelia and Edric climbed down from the wagon and watched as it rolled away between the tall stone towers.

  “Remember what he said,” Edric cautioned. “Don’t speak more than you have to, and don’t say anything that would give away where we’ve come from.”

  “I shall speak no falsehoods, Master Chanticleer,” said Cordelia. “If asked, I shall announce myself as a princess of the Realm.”

  Tania put her hand on her sister’s arm. “Cordie,” she begged, “just this once, forget who you are, please.”

  Cordelia made a disgusted noise in her throat. “I will not lie.”

  “Then try not to say anything, my lady,” Edric said.

  A door opened and a cheerful red light led them into a simple guardroom.

  “I am Nathaniel Ambrose, captain of the Lord Aldritch’s guard,” said a tall dark-eyed man in a black uniform. He slammed the door behind them on the tempestuous night. “State your names and your business in Caer Liel, and if you be good and honest folk, such hospitality as we have shall be offered to you.” He gestured to a stone fireplace where rosy flames danced. “Warm yourselves,” he said. “Food and drink shall be brought while you tell your tale.”

  A soldier brought them bread and cheese and a pitcher of water and they sat on stools around the fire while Edric told the captain their concocted story. The captain listened expressionlessly as Edric explained how their wagon had broken a wheel on the stones and how their horses had bolted in the storm. At first, Tania was afraid they would be recognized, but even when they were told to take off their cloaks so that they could dry themselves properly, the captain showed no sign of knowing who they were. With their drenched hair and their simple peasant clothes, she guessed that she and Cordelia would hardly be taken for princesses, and it was a long, long time since Edric had last been here as a servant to Gabriel Drake.

  “Where are you bound?” the captain asked.

  “We have distant cousins in the village of Lud,” Edric replied. “I hoped we would find shelter there.”

  The captain nodded. “Very well. You shall have bed and board for the night. I will make inquiries as to whether any horses may be made available to you on the morrow to continue your journey. Else, you will need to wait upon some journeyman heading north who will be prepared to take you as passengers.” He called out and a soldier appeared at the door. “Quarter these folk in the upper rooms of the gatehouse.” He turned back to them. “They are but simple cells, to tell the truth, but they are proof against wind and rain and will suffice for your needs.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Tania said quietly. “It is very kind of you to help us in this way.”

  He gave a brief bow. “Nay, lass, it is but simple courtesy. I would not leave a dog out on such a night. Get you away to your rooms and sleep well. No foe has ever breached these walls, and even were the Dark Sorcerer himself to bend his will upon us, I trow these old stones would hold him at bay.”

  The soldier took them by candlelight up a narrow turret-stair to small bare stone chambers that held single beds and little else. Tania said good night to Cordelia and Edric as they were ushered into rooms along the corridor. For a moment she feared that they were being separated for some sinister reason, but then she thought of the warmth and kindness shown to them by the wagon driver and the captain. There was no reason to mistrust everyone in Weir just because of Gabriel Drake; after all, Edric came from here. She thought it must be strange and sad for him to have to return in disguise and afraid for his safety to the place that had been his childhood home.

  Alone in her own room, Tania shed her outer clothes and slid between the blankets of the small bed. It was unexpectedly comfortable and she was soon feeling warm and drowsy. She glanced at the tall, narrow window that cut through the thick stone walls. The rain was snaking down th
e glass and she couldn’t see anything but black night out there, but she could still hear the storm raging away in the mountains. She blew out the candle and curled up under the blankets.

  The last image that went through her mind before sleep took her was of Gabriel Drake’s silvery eyes in the darkness moving restlessly as though seeking her out. And then the eyes became still, staring straight at her, and he let out a mocking laugh.

  Tania was standing at the window. Threads of rain still spun down the glass, and she had to lean far over the thick stone sill to see down to the path that zigzagged up the mountainside. A troop of soldiers holding red torches lined the upper reaches of the path; between them, a solitary horseman rode up the sloping roadway, wrapped against the storm in a heavy black cloak, his head lost in a cavernous hood. The horseman came to a halt where the path leveled out in front of the gatehouse.

  The captain of the guard appeared from under the walls. “Greetings, my lord,” he said. “Welcome home.”

  “It is good to be home, even on such a night as this,” said the rider, and Tania felt a shiver of fear at the sound of that familiar voice.

  The rider raised his arms and pushed his hood back, and Tania found herself staring down at the handsome face of Gabriel Drake.

  Tania awoke with a start. The first thing she saw was a long narrow window set into a bare stone wall. For a few moments she couldn’t work out where she was.

  “Castle Weir!” she whispered as memory flooded back. It was hardly surprising that being in this place had given her bad dreams. She reminded herself that everything was all right; they hadn’t been recognized by Drake’s people and Gabriel was far, far away in the south. In the morning they would be allowed to continue their journey.

  The room was silent and still, and there was no longer the sound of rain and wind. Tania lifted her head, peering at the window. It was still dark outside, but there was an odd reddish glow on the uppermost stones of the frame. She slipped out of bed and padded across the bare wooden floor. The wall was so thick that she had to lean far forward to grasp the latch and push the window open into the night. Her feet were almost clear of the floor as she stretched to look down. Below her the gray stone walls of the gatehouse plummeted sheer to the winding mountain pathway.

  She gave a start of alarm as she saw the source of the red light. Two rows of soldiers lined the roadway—and a lone horseman was riding slowly between them up to the gate. Tania stopped breathing, her fingers freezing into the cold stonework as she stared down at the torch-lit scene. The rider was wrapped in a black cloak, but this time there was no hood.

  “No…” she whispered. “Please…no….”

  The captain of the guard stepped out of shadows.

  “Captain Ambrose.” Gabriel’s velvet voice drifted up to her through the cold air. “Wake my father. I would speak with him in the Obsidian Hall.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Gabriel spurred his horse on and vanished under the walls, the torchbearers breaking off and following him in. There was a deep booming clang as the gate was closed. Tania slid shivering to the floor. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Gabriel should arrive at the castle on the very same night as they had. Somehow, he must know she was here. She remembered the words that haunted her: You will never be free of me! Did you not know? We are bonded for all time!

  She stared at the door to her chamber, expecting at any moment for the sable-clad soldiers of Weir to burst in and to drag her away to where Gabriel was waiting with spider patience and infinite malice. But there was no sound of booted feet on the stairs. No fist hammered on the wooden panels.

  She inched herself to her feet, her courage returning. She ran to the bed and quickly pulled on her clothes. She opened the door onto the bare stone, torch-lit landing. She glanced at the closed doors of Cordelia and Edric’s rooms. Should she wake them? No, not yet. Not until she had a clearer idea of why Gabriel Drake was here. One person creeping around the castle at dead of night was less likely to be seen than three.

  She tiptoed down the spiral stairs. She could hear the soldiers talking in the guardroom beyond the door. Their words were muffled but she was sure she heard the phrase “back from the dead.”

  They were talking about Gabriel. Banishment to Ynis Maw was usually a one-way trip—they must have been astounded to see him come riding up to the gate like that.

  There was another door, facing the one that led to the guardroom. Tania opened it cautiously. It led to a long corridor with windows on one side that overlooked the courtyard. The mounted heads of unicorns ran the length of the other wall. Trying not to look at the unpleasant trophies, Tania slipped silently along the corridor and out through another door. Gabriel had said he wanted to meet his father in the Obsidian Hall. But where was that? Caer Liel was immense; it was crazy to think she’d be able to find one particular hall. But some inner voice was driving her on. She crossed a wide tiled entrance lobby. There were tall black doors in one wall. Stone staircases led upward to a balcony.

  Climb the stairs—you will find him.

  How?

  The bond that links you will take you to him.

  Tania climbed the stairs. The same sense that had made her dream of his arrival was leading her now. A thick black curtain covered an archway directly in front of her. She knew she would find Gabriel if she went through that archway.

  She pushed through the curtain and came out onto a high gallery above a long, lofty-ceilinged room of black stone. Torches lined the walls, throwing out thousand shards of light. Tania kept to the shadows, peering over the balustrade. The walls of the room were lined with tablets of highly polished black stone set at varying angles so that reflections and the reflections of reflections bounced back and forth until it seemed that there were a hundred fractured halls and a hundred thousand torches stretching off on all sides.

  Two men were in the hall. One sat on a bulky throne of black stone; the other was down on one knee in front of him. The seated man was wrapped in a thick cloak of black fur. He had a stern and austere face with thin, smoke gray hair and cavernous eyes. The duke Aldritch, Tania assumed. The other man was Gabriel Drake. Their voices drifted up to her.

  “My joy at your return from Maw is tempered, my son, by the means by which it was accomplished.” The Duke of Weir’s voice was low and dark and powerful. “We do not ally ourselves with Lyonesse,” he went on. “That were wickedness enough to shake the very foundations of Liel and send the tombs of our ancestors tumbling.”

  “But they are not my allies,” Gabriel replied, his voice velvet soft and persuasive. “Listen to me, my lord. Oberon is a prisoner of the Sorcerer King and the House of Aurealis is broken forever. The Sorcerer sits on the throne of Faerie and all others have fled. A mighty armada sails from Lyonesse and will make landfall within days. Then will the armies of the Sorcerer King sweep across Faerie, destroying all in their path.” Gabriel lifted his head and looked into his father’s eyes. “They will obliterate all those who remain loyal to Oberon. I do not ask that Weir make alliances with Lyonesse, but I must return south with your promise that Weir will not wage war against the Sorcerer.” His hand touched the duke’s knee. “I wish only to save our House, Father. The Sorcerer King will conquer Faerie, have no doubt of that.”

  “You bring dark and treacherous tidings, my son,” said the duke. “And I am not convinced. Always we have stood shoulder to shoulder with Aurealis and the other great Houses of Faerie in the long wars against Lyonesse. Yet you say I should bow to the Sorcerer King and do nothing to hinder his armies?”

  “Do not oppose him openly now, Father,” Gabriel warned. “A time will come when we will find ways to defeat him. But to act against him now is to die.” He stood. “His enemies flee before him, and the hunt is up for the members of the Royal Family who are in hiding. Even as we speak, Caer Kymry is under attack and will soon fall.”

  Tania gave a grim smile—Gabriel was a bit out of date with that information, at least.

 
“Princess Rathina has abandoned her family and sits with the Sorcerer in the Great Hall of the palace,” Gabriel continued. “Titania and the other princesses are on the run and will soon be captured. I have been allowed to come here to urge you not to fight against Lyonesse. The Sorcerer has pledged that if you offer no threat, then Weir shall remain free.”

  The duke frowned. “Princess Rathina has turned traitor, say you?”

  “Truly, she has.”

  “Then the Power of Seven can never be invoked,” said the Duke. He nodded, his face deep in thought. “If this threat to the enemies of Faerie has been lost, you may take back to the Sorcerer King my solemn word that Weir will not take arms against him.”

  Tania had no idea what the duke meant by the Power of Seven, but it seemed clear that the news of Rathina’s treachery had helped him to make up his mind.

  “You say that Titania has returned to Faerie,” the duke said, leaning forward and looking piercingly at his son. “Yet you are certain that she can do nothing to hold back the Sorcerer’s might. Are you so sure of her powerlessness?”

  “She is in hiding in Esgarth,” Gabriel replied. “It is only a matter of time before she is found. Some of her daughters fled the forest but they will be hunted down and killed ere long.”

  “Is the Princess Tania among them?”

  Tania felt a shiver down her spine.

  “Indeed,” said Gabriel, and now his voice faltered a little. “It is strange. I almost feel that I sense her presence. I have felt it since I neared Caer Liel. But she cannot be close by; they would remain in the south to be near their mother, and of all places surely she would avoid Weir.” He narrowed his eyes. “Have any travelers come here in the past few days?”

  “I know not,” said the duke. “Captain Ambrose would have that knowledge. Shall I summon him?”