Deanna pulled her white covered hood down and fluffed out her hair. Like Brima, it had the streaks of gray running through it.
“If they are, I’d like my hair braided now.”
“Is that all I’m good for?” Alistair asked, his lips turning up at the corners.
She turned her head to the side. “Hmm, no. But it’s something you’re really good at.” She grabbed her neck-length hair and pulled it over her shoulder. Then, her eyes landed on a strand of Alistair’s hair. It had fallen out from under all the covering.
“Where’s your silver?” she asked.
“It wasn’t the snow?” Olen took a seat beside Alistair, a large bowl in hand. “I thought you had just been covered.”
“Oy, Alistair. Don’t tell me ya dyed ya hair white?” Farren chuckled.
“Maybe it’s popular for men in the middle kingdom,” said Brima. She took a seat next to Alistair and showed her hair. “Gray streaks are very popular here. Deanna and I like to stay up on the latest fashion, isn’t that right?”
The little girl nodded.
“So, why did you dye your hair?” Olen asked again.
Amidst his cousins, he found Maddy and Robin. They both gave a short nod.
He cleared his throat.
“There’s a lot I have to tell you.”
Chapter Twenty
M organna pinched her shoes together and leaned slightly forward on the branch. She stretched her neck as far as it could go before peering at the earth below her. She kept her breaths short and shallow.
The forest was quiet, not even the wind blew. Animals did not scurry, chirp, or howl. The only noise touching her ears was the nearly inaudible sound of her breathing. Aside from that, there was deadly silence and the trees stood like statues in a graveyard.
Snap!
Morganna’s eyes eased right. The tree branches were blocking her full view, but she could still see them. Between the crooked and tangled twigs, six men approached the tree she hid in. They walked slowly and with deliberate steps. Their eyes peered around them and the closer they came into view, Morganna saw they were walking in formation. Their weapons were sheathed, though.
She leaned back with her toes still pinched together. Her back rested against the tree trunk.
Don’t breathe. Stay quiet.
The last two men of the formation were under her tree now. If they looked up and leaned their head at a good angle they’d see her. But they didn’t. They barely glanced at any of the trees as they moved beyond her. After using an agonizing amount of patience, Morganna released a breath.
She knew hiding in the trees would not be an option next time. The faster winter approached, the fewer leaves there were to shield her. She had been lucky.
Morganna tested her limbs, waking them from staying poised for so long. She climbed down the tree and jumped the last few feet. Once she had dusted her clothes off, she moved perpendicular to the direction the men had been walking.
She didn’t run. A rapidly moving image would sooner be spotted with so many eyes in the forest. Morganna was surprised they had continued their pursuit. Since her first day among the wild, she had moved deeper into the woods, past two crests at this point. Yet Arthur’s men still came searching for her every day. Only now they didn’t shout out her name, their voices echoing in the forest to announce their presence.
Now, they were quiet and they were tense. She was their target but they no longer wanted her to know they were searching.
At times, she wanted to return to the castle. She wanted to reveal herself to the men and be escorted into Arthur’s arms who surely was concerned about her. Why else would he continuously send out search parties?
But he never came himself and Morganna was forced to accept the truth.
He wanted her back not as his lover but as his queen. She was the heir to the middle-kingdom throne. They needed a trophy to conquer Cadfen and she was it.
Her stomach knotted. She fell against a tree and covered her face as tears burned behind her eyelids.
How did my life come to this?
Tears streamed from her eyes, but she shook them away. Her hand moved from her face to her abdomen. What once was flat was now slightly rounded. She had finally started to show, though it was only a small bump.
She smoothed her palms across her stomach.
We have no time for tears. There’s too much to do.
Morganna continued her way through the forest. Soon she came to a little dip in the land. On the opposite side of the dip were several broken branches. Behind those branches was her new home.
She looked around before moving the branches aside and climbing in to her hovel. Based on the size, Morganna had thought the structure had once belonged to some of Issin’s people who fled once Essen’s army invaded. They could have hid in it for days until they were either captured and sorted or made their way to one of the other kingdoms.
Once she had made her way inside, she crawled as far back as the tunnel could go. There it opened into a large room. She couldn’t stand at her full height. Her neck would have to bend slightly or she’d have to fold her knees some. Still, there was plenty of space for her legs to stretch out.
Morganna reached around for the torch and stones. Once her hand wrapped around the torch, she quickly lit it with the stones and placed it against the wall. It was time to get to work.
She grabbed extra blankets and wrapped them around herself while she gazed at the dirt outline. Last time she snuck back into the castle, Arthur hadn’t been there and snatching materials had been easy. She knew the guards’ rounds and avoided them, walking through the halls with relative ease. That wouldn’t be the case on her next attempt after being gone for so long. She’d also be carrying Robin, much heavier than food and covers.
Morganna reached to her side and grabbed some strips of meat from a pouch. Her eyes roamed over the map.
She should be back from the north in two or three weeks. Then, they will attempt to take back Camelot. I will only have a small window to take her.
She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. The blonde tresses her father had once compared to the sun were now dingy and tangled. Even her fingernails had darkened with mud caked under them.
Morganna flicked dirt from under her thumbnail, then returned her attention.
Robin was hardly ever alone. If it wasn’t Arthur, it was Lancelot peeking at her like the mongrel he was. She had never understood Arthur’s fondness for the boy. She knew he was of bad character after two weeks of him staying at the castle. His eyes always followed the young women around as they went about their daily tasks. Arthur said he never noticed it. Men seemed to be oblivious about things like that.
And then there’s that filthy southerner and the peasant. If he was really attacked by a witch, they’ve apparently lost some of their skill.
A smirk pulled at her lips. She traced the map with her fingers until they landed on the stables--the only place Robin was likely to be alone.
She walks that work horse every morning. I could get close, wait until she came for him and—
The torch flame went out. A cold settled in the hovel.
Morganna again grabbed for the torch and stones but they fumbled in her hands. The cold had pierced her, and her teeth chattered as her hands trembled.
“Damn winter winds,” she cursed.
Her hand clasped the torch’s base, the fire immediately came to life, and the room lit up with another visitor present.
Morganna screamed and stumbled backward from the shadow. The light fell from her hands and she raced to hold it up again. Once she could, Morganna gazed around the room, turning the flame in every direction. The figure was gone but her heart would not quiet.
She took in long, hard breaths. Then, a rotting stench filled the space and a feeling that could best be described as a sharp rock nailed into her skull, spread across Morganna’s face. She groaned and leaned forward, running away from the pain and odor.
The tor
ch fell beside her, casting its glow opposite where she rested. And there she saw the shadow again. Wisps of black fog that held together in a disgusting form and smears of red for a face. The thing was small enough that from a distance one would have thought it a child wearing dark clothing. But Morganna was very close to the creature and its spew of red.
It leaned its head from side to side, each time at a perfect cornered angle. What appeared to be the mouth turned up into a smile.
Morganna’s mind blanked but for one single thought.
My baby.
She lunged for the tunnel. The monster was quicker. It blocked her path, still smiling, still leaning its head side to side.
Morganna backed herself across from the creature. She held up the torch’s flames towards it and gritted her teeth.
“Whatever hell hole you’ve climbed from you will return to,” she spat. Her hands weren’t steady and her dirty hair hung wild around her.
Still, she pushed the torch towards the inky black creature.
The monster paid no attention. Its sight was leveled on Morganna.
When she lunged again, the creature moved to the side and squatted where she had drawn the castle’s outline. It picked up the stick Morganna had used and scratched out her drawing.
“What are you doing,” Morganna screamed. “Leave it alone!” She moved forward, yet the tremors that ran through her body held her back.
It looked at Morganna and began writing in the dirt. After a few minutes, the monster stepped back. It pointed to the patch of earth between them.
Morganna gnashed her teeth together and gripped the torch in her hand. She sidled along the wall, then leaned forward, glancing between the monster in front of her and the dirt beneath her.
I WANT TO HELP.
The message was little more than chicken scratch, but it came through clear enough. Morganna looked at the shadow.
“What are you?”
The shadow jerked. It turned its head to one side but its eyes looked at the ground. Then, again, it put the stick into the earth.
A WITCH. I DON’T WANT TO LIE.
A new fear erupted inside Morganna. It felt like her heart had dropped into her stomach but still beat within her, sending shots of childhood nightmares pulsing through her. Her hearing became hollow and her gaze slid to the tunnel.
A scratching sound.
DON’T. The message read.
Morganna waited.
I WANT TO HELP.
“Help?” The word broke her like a hoarse cough. She shook her head. “Help with what?”
MURDER.
She narrowed her eyes. The thing had been spying on her.
YOU CALL HER ROBIN. YOU WANT TO KILL HER. BUT YOU CAN’T.
“And how the hell would you know what I can and cannot do?”
It pointed at Morganna’s stomach. She instinctively placed her hand over the area.
“You will not have my child’s soul.”
IF I HELP—
“I said no!”
The torch went out only to relight a moment later. The monster’s mouth had shaped into a long oval that slowly shrunk, releasing a shrill creaking noise. Morganna covered her ears but did not move her eyes away. She stared the monster straight into its spew of red.
The noise came to a halt. Morganna stepped towards the beast.
“Never,” she hissed.
It tapped the stick on the ground.
I CAN HELP YOU BECOME STRONG. WE KILL EVERYONE YOU WANT.
She raised a brow. “And what would you be getting in return?”
FREEDOM. NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE. BUT I WANT FREEDOM.
“From who?”
FATHER.
Morganna blinked. “Your father? Do witches even have fathers?”
It nodded.
HE FED ME UNTIL I WAS BORN AGAIN. HE WILL FEED ME NOW. HE IS MY FATHER.
Cadfen.
Morganna tapped her fingers against her waist. If the creature wanted her dead, she would have been, and the baby inside her empty of life. But it hadn’t attacked. It had only watched and offered.
WINTER WILL BE HERE SOON. YOU WON’T SURVIVE. BABY WILL DIE. I WILL HELP YOU LIVE.
Morganna’s fingers steadied on her hip. “And how could I help you escape? How can I help you find your freedom?”
WE SHARE BODY. BUT SOUL IS YOURS. I ONLY WANT ONE THING.
“Which is?”
TO TAKE BODY FOR MY OWN ONCE A MONTH. AND TO EAT ALL I WANT WHEN I COME OF AGE. NO PUNISHMENT LIKE FATHER DOES.
So Cadfen keeps the witches in line. The peasant boy was right.
Morganna reached for her dragon charm, then, cursed herself for doing so. Her neck had been bare of it for over a week now and she still had the need to clasp it. Before, she and Arthur had worked together to rebuild Issin’s castle and start their new life. They were each other’s consultants and until Robin’s return, she had trusted his judgement.
What would Arthur advise in this situation?
She smiled.
He’d hate it.
“I will keep my soul?” she asked.
It bobbed its head.
SOUL YOURS. BODY OURS. WE TORTURE, THEN KILL ANYONE YOU WANT.
Morganna had stopped trembling. Her teeth had stopped chattering and the nausea in her stomach had subsided.
She eyed the witch.
“How will you help me survive the winter? I need proof.”
The inky figure nodded.
Another creaking noise escape from it, before the monster’s chest split open. The smell of rot and decay returned. Morganna’s head began to swim and she covered her nose, though it had little effect.
The figure leaned forward, so its chest was directly above the earth.
A sound that reminded Morganna of a man who had had too much ale filled the room just as a rabbit’s carcass fell from the shadow’s chest.
Morganna heaved and turned away from the sight in front of her.
Dear God.
The sound filled the room again but before another rabbit’s body could fall at her feet she turned and faced the creature.
“That’s, uh…that’s quite enough.”
It nodded.
I CAN CATCH LOTS OF RABBITS. EASY TO KILL.
“I see that.”
WILL YOU LET ME HELP YOU? I NEED YOU TO AGREE OR HE WILL KNOW.
Morganna’s eyes darted from the dead rabbit to the cavity from which it had fallen. They landed on the eyes of the monster.
I could kill her easily with the aid of a witch. Perhaps in ways I didn’t think possible. I could make her suffer.
Her heart raced at the thought.
And my soul would still be mine. I won’t be like Cadfen. He is damned but I could keep my soul and rid myself of Robin once and for all. Maybe then Arthur…
Morganna started to reach for the charm but forced her arm by her side. She pushed back her shoulders and exhaled slowly.
“You will not enter my body until after my child is born. Is that clear?”
It nodded.
NOT UNTIL BABY IS BORN. YES.
“And you will not harm my child, understand?”
I WILL NOT HARM THE BOY. NO.
Morganna gaped. “How do you know it’s a boy?”
WITCH’S EYES SEE WHAT HUMANS CANNOT.
“I have one more question. Since we’ll be working together I need to know what to call you. What is your name?”
WE HAVE NO NAMES.
“Your father never named you?”
It shook its head.
“Hmm, then I think I have a name for you. How about Lilith? It’s an old name.”
The figure cocked its head to the side. It picked up the stick and dug into the earth.
LILITH IS A GOOD NAME.
Chapter Twenty One
“C ome on, dear. We’ve got a few more stops I want to make before we get to the Amian.”
Una grabbed Alistair’s arm and pulled him beside her. Her eyes moved around the neighborhood road
s that were full of its northern inhabitants. Most of the buildings made from piled stones were family homes, often only one or two rooms. The larger stone buildings with nicely patched roofs were town centers like the lord’s home or the messenger’s office. And all around, there was snow.
The storm had snowed them in for three days and his aunt, like any other homemaker, had to restock her cupboards. The way Farren, Olen, and Brima ate, he couldn’t blame her. The only one who seemed not to always have her eye on the kitchen was Deanna.
Maddy had become quite a fan of Una’s cooking the last few days. She was right along with Brima and the others asking for seconds and thirds.
Alistair smiled at the memory. He had wanted her to like his family and she seemed to be getting along with them.
They hadn’t had much time alone since they arrived. Still, sometimes he’d catch her looking at him and a blush would creep on her cheeks. Of course, it could all have been his imagination. The small smiles, the stolen glances…yes, his imagination.
“Did you hear me, Merlin?”
“Pardon?” Alistair blinked at his aunt.
She puffed out her cheeks and shook her head. “I said do you think we should buy some whale blubber for the fried biscuits.”
“When has whale blubber ever been a problem.” He grinned.
“You sound like your cousins, now, don’t ya?”
“I guess they’re rubbing off on me.”
“If that’s the case, maybe you’ll start using your given name like they do, hmm?” She eyed him, tapping her boot in the snow. “Your parents gave you a fine first name, but you insist on using your middle one. Baffles me what you children do nowadays.”
Alistair sighed. “Aunt Una, Merlin makes me sound like an old librarian who spends his days surrounded by dusty books. My middle name sounds better.”
She scoffed. “You don’t even respond to Merlin anymore. It’s a shame, a good name like yours going to waste. Now, come on. Inlen’s home is right up here.”
“He moved?”
She nodded. “Sold his home to a family that had moved down from the capital. Used that and savings to build himself a new place.”
A few houses down, Una approached another stone building in the shape of a large dome. From the roof, smoke billowed into the sky. Blue tapestries with whale designs hung on the outside.
The Woman In the Tree Page 23
