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Age of Druids

Page 22

by India Drummond


  “No, my lady druid. If she knew, she did not impart the knowledge to our people.”

  The pieces were starting to fall together in Munro’s mind. The Cup probably had nothing to do with The Way or finding Huck and Demi. Oh, the old geezer probably could heal Rory’s bond as promised. Munro understood enough about Ewain to acknowledge that he stuck to his word and didn’t lie outright. But he had an agenda the druids knew nothing about.

  “You have my word we will not try to take the Cup by force, nor will we ask you to relinquish it. Please trust we had no ill intentions in our initial contact. We merely want to help our people, who we believe are lost.”

  “Do you speak this vow for your entire company?” she glanced down the row of druids, her eyes falling on Rory at the end.

  “Aye, he does,” Aaron said.

  “You have my word,” Sheng said.

  “Mine too,” Douglas said.

  Lisle nodded. “And mine.”

  They all looked at Rory, who gave a sharp nod, then glanced away. “Aye,” he said softly.

  Grenna visibly relaxed. “Thank you,” she said. “Our people will rejoice to learn we have fulfilled our lady’s charge.”

  “Thank you for returning Rory safely home,” Munro said.

  She waved her hand. “Who are we to punish a druid lord?”

  “Well, be certain the matter will be addressed.”

  “As is your right,” she said with a slight bow. “And now, by your leave, I will return to my people.”

  “Will you not stay and take a meal with us?” Munro said. “Aaron and Sheng told us many fascinating things about Meditar and her people. Sheng is eager to work with you, repairing some of the damaged artefacts you hold, if you would find such aid useful. But in the meantime, I would enjoy the opportunity to learn of Juno and what your people remember of the ancient draoidh.” He rose. The other druids did the same.

  Grenna stood as well. “I would be honoured to host any of your company at any time and share our stories of the sacred lady with you. For tonight, however, I must decline, if it will not offend.” She glanced around. “I have been away less than two hours, and I am already experiencing a deep longing to return to the comfort of the sea.”

  “I understand,” Munro said. Although he was fascinated, he was glad she declined. He had too much to do to play host tonight. It appeared they needed a whole new plan for opening The Way, and unfortunately, the only one who could tell them how was the person he trusted least right now.

  He and Eilidh took their leave of the other druids and walked Grenna back to the Mistgate, trailed by her honour guard.

  After confirming the Mistgate was still pointed toward Meditar, he said, “It’s not my business, but I strongly suggest you destroy that Cup. I fear Ewain will continue to try to acquire it as long as it exists.”

  “There is some evidence my predecessor tried to make the same argument to Our Lady Juno. She believed its healing properties were too great to lose. In truth, I suspect her reluctance was an equal part vanity.” Queen Grenna’s frankness surprised him. “She claimed its creation was her crowning achievement.”

  “So you won’t destroy it?”

  The sea queen tilted her head. “I will urge my conclave to order it done. I find myself sharing your concerns.” She paused for a moment. “If I may ask, when did you acquire this iron crown? Was it a gift from Lord Ewain?”

  Munro frowned. “No,” he said. “I created it myself.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Should your crown someday be lost, I may be able to help you find it. We possess several artefacts with fascinating properties. Do come see me, should that day come.”

  Munro nodded, wondering if she had an artefact capable of detecting iron or perhaps locating artefacts. If she had pieces from Juno’s time, who knew what the other pieces might do? He considered whether or not she might let them study the Cup of Cultus, or if that would be going too far. It might be Lisle could replicate some of its function, but perhaps not duplicate its ability to allow Ewain to merge it with his spirit powers.

  At the Mistgate and with Eilidh by his side, Munro bade Queen Grenna good evening. Once she and her people had gone, he closed the gate.

  “What are you going to do about Rory?” Eilidh asked.

  “I’d like to put my boot up his arse,” Munro said. “But I haven’t got time. I don’t think he’ll try anything that stupid again. They might have killed him. They would’ve been well within their rights to hold him in Meditar.”

  Eilidh nodded. “It’s what I might do to anyone who tried to steal from me.”

  Munro sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do with him. I don’t want to lay down the law, but we can’t have druids going and trying to steal from queens. It’ll set us back to the beginning in our relationships with the kingdoms if they don’t trust us. For now, maybe Douglas and Aaron should talk to him. They looked mad as hell, and they are closer to him. Anything they say, he’ll take better from them than from me.”

  “I suspect you’re right.”

  “I need to visit Ewain again. Do you want me to go with you to speak with Griogair?”

  She hesitated. “My pride says no, but my heart wants you by my side.”

  “I should tell Lisle about Alyssa. She’ll be upset with me. As if she wasn’t annoyed enough already. At least this will put down her stupid ideas about making me king.”

  “Why is she angry with you?”

  He shrugged, walking slowly back to the Hall with her. “Joy told us Jago claimed Maiya was able to find Demi. Lisle went to confirm what she could, using the flute. She learned that Maiya and Jago are bonded.”

  Eilidh sighed. “I suspected as much. She wanted Maiya to travel with you to the human realm?”

  “She expected me to say no, which I did, but Demi is her granddaughter, so she had to ask. I told her it’s too dangerous. Now that I know Ewain once had the power to control the dead and the old stories about him were likely true, I’m doubly convinced I made the right choice. I’m not letting him anywhere near our daughter. Lisle understands. We’ll find a way to get Demi and Huck back. Somehow.”

  Eilidh frowned. “If I could go myself, I would. If only Maiya were older, trained. She will be a formidable faerie someday. But she’s so small. I cannot allow such a risk to her.”

  Munro took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I agree completely. Maiya stays where she is.”

  ∞

  Lisle left the great hall shortly after Munro and Eilidh escorted Queen Grenna away. Aaron and Douglas were shouting at Rory, and she had a blistering headache and didn’t want to listen. For the first time since Demi disappeared, she felt truly disheartened. Somehow, over all these months, she’d managed to work, pressing ahead, getting from day to day on faith and determination. Now all she wanted to do was go to bed and stay there.

  As Munro often reminded them, there was a long list of artefacts the kingdoms had requested. Among them were healing stones. She’d never crafted such a stone to be activated by a faerie, but perhaps if she worked with Jago, she might manage some success. As a lethfae, he could help her distinguish the flows. She wouldn’t want him brought here, but perhaps she should take a sabbatical to Caledonia. No doubt Queen Eilidh would make accommodation. Working would be a better use of Lisle’s time than lying around in bed, indulging her depression, and a change of scenery might soothe her stress and worry. The corridors of the Druid Hall seemed full of disappointment and sadness.

  By the time she arrived at her suite, she’d decided to write to Eilidh and request leave to stay in Caledonia for a time. Lisle had the option, of course, of asking Munro, but she didn’t want to discuss the situation with him. Yes, she was running away. She acknowledged that. But surely no one would blame her for needing to.

  She passed through the offset arches leading into her private rooms but stopped in her tracks when she saw Leocort perched on one of a pair of couches in her living area. He stood when she entered, his face dis
torted with worry, looking as tired as she felt. “Lisle,” he said.

  Although she had believed she was too numb to feel anything for him, she blushed as she remembered her horrifying outburst the previous day. Part of her desire to get away from the Hall was to escape confronting the present look on his face.

  “Forgive me for intruding without an invitation, but I must speak with you.”

  Realising the conversation wouldn’t be avoided, she sighed. “Whatever you do, don’t apologise,” she said, sitting on a soft chair adjacent to him. “I don’t think I could bear it.” She gestured for him to take his seat. “I’m the one who has been acting like a fool. I’m over eighty years old. In human culture we call that old enough to know better.”

  Leocort sat, looking conflicted. His expression told her he’d come to do just that: apologise. While he wrestled with what to say next, she said, “I am leaving for Caledonia. I hope to stay there a while, enjoy being closer to Jago.”

  Leocort frowned. “But won’t that interfere with his education?”

  She raised an eyebrow, surprised he’d suggest such a thing. Faeries, of course, rarely saw their children before they were ten years old, instead leaving their formative upbringing to nurses and teachers, the so-called professionals. But special accommodation was made for the lethfae children, whose human families hadn’t been raised in the same manner. “You think I would be a negative influence on his learning?”

  “Of course,” he said. “All parents and grandparents are. We are but amateurs. Jago is in the care of the best magic workers and scholars in Caledonia. If you aren’t pleased with his progress, any kingdom would be thrilled at the opportunity to educate a druid child.”

  She waved her hand. “He’d never be separated from Maiya.”

  “Then ask Queen Eilidh to allow you to invite more accomplished scholars to come work with him in Caledonia. I don’t doubt she would agree.”

  Lisle watched Leocort closely. He seemed as relieved by the change of subject as she was, but she didn’t fancy him telling her she was planning to ruin her grandson’s childhood. Besides, she’d never been one to dodge a difficult truth. “I need to get away from the Halls of Mist,” she said. “Too many bad memories.” She sighed. “If I’m honest, I don’t believe Demi is ever coming home. Jago tells me she’s alive, and that’s enough. Maybe when he and Maiya are older, they can lead me to his mother, but for now…” Her voice trailed off. She hadn’t really given up on Demi, but she was out of ideas for how to find them. Ewain had duped them about the Cup of Cultus and The Way.

  “I hope I’m not one of those bad memories,” he said, hurt showing in his eyes. “You’re needed here. Please don’t go. If my presence pains you, then I will request to be assigned to Lord Druid Douglas’ honour guard in Zalia.”

  The suggestion surprised her, but as she considered his words, it shouldn’t have. One of the things she admired about Leocort was his loyalty and self-sacrificing nature. “You are head of the Mistwatchers, responsible for recruitment and training. You couldn’t do that job from Zalia.”

  “No,” he said, “but it’s a job any number of faeries could undertake. I will suggest my second in command. She is competent and experienced.” His tone told her the matter was settled.

  Lisle shook her head. She almost found his altruistic gesture annoying. “I don’t want you to do that,” she said. “If Demi does return, she wouldn’t forgive me if I’d sent you away. She loves you, you know.”

  A look of confusion passed over Leocort’s face. “You do not suspect we were lovers, do you?”

  The thought had occurred to Lisle, but she had dismissed the notion. Demi’s heart was still too damaged by her relationship with Ulrich, Jago’s father, for her to fall in love with anyone. Still, Lisle didn’t want to let Leocort off the hook. “I know you care deeply for her.”

  “She’s a child,” he said. “I care for her as I might a daughter or granddaughter. All this time, you’ve believed me to be in love with her?” His brows knitted in a look betraying his incredulity. “Lisle, I am a Mistwatcher.”

  She tilted her head. “What does your job have to do with anything?”

  “Watchers are servants to the kingdom or family they protect.”

  “You’re saying you wouldn’t tell Demi you love her because you’re afraid she sees you as a servant? You should know her better. Have we ever treated you as anything but a friend?” The argument was beyond ridiculous. Here she was, telling the man she loved he was free to pursue her granddaughter.

  “No,” he said quickly, tossing his arms up in exasperation. He paused as though searching for the right words. “I swore to myself I’d never speak of my feelings. I tried so hard to avoid a situation where anyone might even suspect.” He met her eyes. “I am not in love with Demi. You are the one I love, and I have for a long time. It grew within me slowly and before I realised or could stop it. My guard was down, and I shouldn’t have let it happen at all.”

  Lisle blinked, opened her mouth, closed it, and blinked again. “You…” Her heart beat a little faster, her head swam, and the strange roaring in her ears made her doubt she’d heard him correctly. “But you can’t…”

  “I know. If you hadn’t said what you did last night, I never would have admitted this to you. All this time, I hid my feelings, knowing you wouldn’t return affection for a mere soldier. But when I realised you thought I rejected you, that you somehow loved me and believed I was mocking you... At least I can make you understand why I must go.”

  “You love me?” she asked, still not quite believing her ears. “You’re not saying this because you think you must?”

  “I would never lie to you, Lisle,” he said, but his expression was as miserable as before.

  Lisle sat back, unable to think straight. “No. I don’t see why you have to leave.”

  “I am your servant, the servant of every druid in this Hall.”

  “Aaron is living with a woman who was a slave a few months ago.”

  “Yes, but she is his bonded partner.”

  Her mind went back to what she’d seen in Alyssa when they travelled to Caledonia together. “So you would feel differently if we could bond?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished it were possible, how much I’ve hated it every time a faerie came to meet you and the others, dreading the moment you would find the one who would be your bond-mate. Someday, you will join with him and come to love him. I will be forced to watch as you share your life. It pains me to confess such weakness, Lisle, but I need you to understand why I must leave now, before that happens. It has proven difficult enough seeing you every day, knowing I could never have you, but someday, to see you with another, understanding that you once loved me… I am not strong enough.”

  “What if there was a way to forge a bond between us?” Her heart raced. She’d not let herself think about the possibility, but she realised she had to take this opportunity. If she didn’t say something now, the chance might not come again.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Do you trust me?” she asked.

  “With my life,” he told her.

  “Here,” she said, holding her hand out to him. He clasped her fingers and a thrill washed over her at his touch. All this time, and she couldn’t recall if he’d ever touched her on purpose before. Maybe once or twice, he’d brushed her hand by accident or sat close to her when they played with Jago, their legs briefly coming into contact, but he’d always moved away quickly. She’d believed he found her old and unattractive. She’d tried to avoid pushing herself close to him like a desperate schoolgirl, only now realising he escaped those moments for the same reason.

  With her other hand, she took the flute from around her neck and pressed it to her lips. Blowing slightly, she instantly became entranced with Leocort’s powerful flows. She’d never appreciated the raw strength in his magic before, but what looked as tendrils with some appeared as thick, ropy roots in
him. “I will try to be gentle. If I hurt you, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

  “What are you planning to do?” he asked.

  “I want to show you something. I won’t do anything more without your permission.”

  She delved in between the heavy strands of his magical flows, amazed at the complexity of them. As gently as possible, she wove her way to his centre. “Does this hurt?” she asked.

  “No, I am aware of your presence, but the sensation is not unpleasant.” He closed his eyes. “To the contrary,” he added softly.

  She found the bud of his bond. With the gentlest touch she could manage, she caressed the unopened flower. “Do you feel that?”

  His breathing quickened. “Lisle.” He whispered her name like a prayer.

 

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