Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire)

by S. L. Jesberger

  Tristan heard them talking. He noted some of them were nodding their heads in agreement.

  “Does the human woman know she’s being held here as a hostage?” Duff asked. “Does she know her companion has been sent on his way?”

  Tristan looked helplessly at Colven, then back to Duff. “She does not know.”

  “Really? How interesting.” Duff fixed bright green eyes on Tristan and gave him a sly smile. “I think the woman should be brought before council so she may speak for herself.”

  It was the thing Tristan feared the most. He’d not told Aislin she was now alone here. He didn’t want her to find out this way, but he would have no choice but to bring her here if that was the wish of the council.

  “Yes,” said Keegan. “I would like to hear what she has to say. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is to be alive.”

  There was agreement among the members, and banging the gavel with a sigh of resignation, Colven said, “We’ll take it to a vote. All in favor of bringing the woman before council, raise your hand.” All hands in the room shot up, except two. “Those against.” Colven and Tristan raised their hands.

  Looking very sorry, Colven banged the gavel again, and said, “Motion carried. Tristan, would you please bring the prisoner before council so they may speak with her?”

  Tristan understood Colven’s emphasis on the word ‘prisoner’. He nodded his head, and left the council.

  Tristan stopped by his apartment, grabbed some clean clothes and a brush for her, and then quickly ran down the marble stairs to the prison.

  “There you are,” Aislin said, giving him a warm smile. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

  Tristan threw the clothing and brush at her. “Put this on and pull yourself together. Council has requested that you be presented to them for questioning,” he said shortly.

  The smile on her face slipped away. “What? Why?”

  “Just do as I tell you. Don’t ask so many damned questions.” He wanted to get this over with. “You have five minutes.” He left her alone in the cell.

  Aislin slipped on the white satin tunic, tied the black sash, and ran the brush hastily through her hair.

  When he came back into the cell with the chains in his hand, she started to laugh. “Not this again.”

  “Aislin, it’s important that I present you to the council as a prisoner. You must be appropriately compliant. Trust me on this.”

  “I don’t understand...” She frowned as she presented her wrists to him.

  He finished locking the chains on her wrists, grasped her by the shoulders, and forced her to look at him. “Just answer their questions. Give no more information than you need to. Be polite, respectful, and don’t look anyone directly in the eye. Do you understand me?”

  “What...?”

  “Do you understand me?” Tristan shook her for emphasis.

  “Yes! You’re scaring me.”

  “Your training as a princess should have taught you how to respond to dignitaries from other lands. Now would be a good time for you to review.” Tristan gathered up the length of chain hanging from her wrists, and with a hard backward glance at her, pulled her along behind him.

  Tristan pushed through the door of the council room. He pulled Aislin down the steps and into the center of the council circle. The room filled with a quiet murmur of voices. This was the first time they’d seen her since she’d been brought to Oakenbourne. Tristan knew they would be curious about her.

  He dropped the chains to the floor and reluctantly left Aislin standing alone in the middle of the circle. She lowered her gaze to the floor.

  Tristan took his seat and announced, “I present Princess Aislin of Arianrhod for questioning by the council.”

  Colven clapped his hands for silence. “Does anyone have a question for the princess?”

  Duff leaned forward, looked down the row of council members, and gave Tristan an ugly sneer.

  “Princess Aislin, were you aware that night before last, Tristan provided your courier with a horse, and he was allowed to continue on his way to Wyndham without you? Did you know you’re now considered a hostage here?” Duff said slowly.

  Aislin’s head snapped up, eyes wide, mouth slightly open as she looked up at Tristan. He swallowed hard as she went completely white.

  As an epic storm gathered strength before his very eyes, he heard Roderic’s words echo back to him. Aislin will not take this kind of deception lightly. Roderic obviously knew her very well. Why had he chosen to ignore the man?

  Ashen with fury, she glared at him, her eyes sharp and cold. “You did what? Is this true?”

  Tristan simply held his breath and nodded his head. It was far too late for explanations or apologies now.

  She strode forward, chain dragging along behind her, to stand beneath his seat. “You let him go? You lied to me, Tristan! How dare you! Who do you think you are?”

  Duff laughed scathingly. “Yes, Tristan, who do you think you are? How dare you do such a thing?” Mocking laughter followed his comment.

  Aislin seemed to realize she had overstepped her bounds by shouting at their chieftain. Taking several steps back into the center of the circle, she dropped her eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry...I... I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  Duff waved his hand at Aislin and addressed the council. “On the contrary, this woman clearly has no respect for Tristan or this council, and I wonder why she isn’t executed immediately. She should be dead right now, save for the fact that Tristan is letting his cock do his thinking for him.”

  She looked at Duff with shocked indignation, and then back at Tristan, her pleading look laying waste to his soul.

  I have to get her out of here, Tristan thought. Duff was pushing, trying to frighten her. He was afraid she would simply bolt for the door if they scared her enough. He wouldn’t be able to save her if that happened.

  Colven looked disgusted. “Did you not understand everything that was said before the woman was brought before us?”

  “That was before she insulted this council with her outburst!” shouted Fogol.

  Tristan jumped out of his seat and went to her side. Trying to catch her eyes with his, he picked up the chains from the floor. She gave him a brief look, her eyes full of fear and confusion. She was shaking so violently, he could feel the vibration through the chain he held in his fist.

  “She has insulted me, not you. She has every right to be angry with me for withholding this information from her,” Tristan said.

  The voices of council rose in resentment at his words. Colven slammed the gavel down again, and stroking his beard thoughtfully, looked around at council.

  “This council seems to have lost its collective mind, and is adjourned until all of you can behave like adults. Tristan, return the princess to her cell.”

  Tristan pulled Aislin quickly out of the room and walked her at a fast pace down the corridor.

  They got to her cell, and he opened the door, avoiding eye contact with her. He started to remove the chains, when she angrily jerked her wrists out of his hands and stumbled back away from him.

  “How could you do this? What gives you the right to make a decision like that without consulting with me first?” Aislin was coiled and hissing with fury. He was startled to see violence in her eyes.

  “Aislin....”

  “Don’t you Aislin me! Hostage? Whose idea was that?” Her laugh echoed harshly off the walls of the cell. “I begged you to let me see Roderic, and you knew you’d let him go! You stood there, and you lied to me! You lied to me, Tristan! Why did you keep it from me? Why didn’t you let me go with him?”

  “That’s enough.”

  “What are you doing to me? Why did you keep me here?”

  He said nothing. She would be even angrie
r if he told her the truth. She would never guess in a million years how badly he wanted her, would never understand that he wasn’t sure he would be able to breathe if she left Oakenbourne.

  “What if Roderic doesn’t make it to Wyndham? How will we know? What if he doesn’t get the help my people need? And no one will know I’m a prisoner here...no one will think to come looking for me!”

  “That’s enough, Aislin.”

  “What’s left of my family is hidden in that cave, and they’ll die there unless we can return with help, but you just don’t care, do you? None of this means anything to you. Damn you, Tristan! What gives you the right to make decisions about my life?” She was shrieking now, seemingly on the verge of hysteria. He could sense her body was tensed and ready for battle.

  They glared at each other across the room, and then she flew at him, her chained wrists aiming squarely for the side of his head.

  Tristan caught her in mid-leap and forced her roughly against the wall. He heard the breath leave her body in a soft umph as she hit the hard marble. At his breaking point, he quickly secured the chain around her wrists to the wall, leaving her just enough slack to sink to the floor. Enraged, she attempted to kick at him, and he wrapped the rest of the chain around her bare ankles.

  The only damage she could do now was verbal, and a torrent of white-hot fury erupted from her lips. Spitting and swearing, launching her body against the chains that held her, she threatened to do him great bodily harm in endless bloody and creative ways.

  Tristan reacted without thought, snatching the belt from her tunic and forcing it roughly into her mouth.

  Aislin could do little else but glare up at him now, chest heaving, tears sliding down her cheeks. There was molten hatred in her eyes as she twisted her wrists in the chains.

  “I’m sorry it had to be like this. I’ll be back when you calm down.”

  She screamed something at him under the gag, kicking at him one last time. He stalked out and slammed the door behind him.

  Tristan slowly walked back to his rooms and opened the door into blackness, his mind reeling. He’d never seen anyone so thoroughly furious. Not only had he underestimated her anger, he’d arrogantly thought he could deal with whatever reaction she threw at him.

  He hadn’t expected that little bit of a thing to get physical with him. He knew he was going to regret being so rough with her, but she’d pushed him to the boundaries of his temper.

  They had both been raised to rule. They were both headstrong, accustomed to giving orders and having them obeyed without question. Keeping her seemed impossible now. There would be no gentle seduction. She’d been on a mission to save her kingdom, and he’d selfishly stolen that right out from under her.

  She will hate me now. I deserve it.

  Tristan poured a glass of Colven’s wine and threw himself into a chair with a tortured sigh. Staring into the darkness with a heavy heart, he drained it all in one swallow.

  Chapter Twenty

  AISLIN STARED AT THE MOONLIT bars of her cell, exhausted but not sleepy, her mind empty. She had run the emotional gamut of panic at being alone, to fury at being deceived, to gratitude that at least one of them was free, to fear wondering if she would end up being put to death after all.

  She’d nearly turned herself inside out trying to get out of the chains after Tristan left, but all she’d succeeded in doing was hurting herself. The chains had cut into her wrists and ankles like knife blades as she’d thrashed against the white marble. She’d stopped struggling only when she smelled the coppery scent of blood mixed with metal. Her throat was raw from screaming. Her mouth was bone dry beneath the gag.

  She glanced over at the pile of blankets and wished she could go to them. The chains limited her to sitting propped up against the wall. Shivering from pain and cold, she attempted to reach a blanket with her feet, but soon gave up. They were too far away.

  She was broken inside. The wonderful day she and Tristan had shared the day before was like something from a dream. She was angry with herself for opening up to him, trusting him. Liking him. She’d felt the first flutterings of...something in the garden, surrounded by a little bit of paradise.

  She snorted derisively. What a shock to find out that he was just like Jariath. Physically brutal, bullying, and controlling. He was just a little smoother about it.

  She’d looked into Tristan’s eyes as he gathered the chains from the floor of council, mentally begging him for some rational explanation for his betrayal. She’d gotten the sense that he was playing with her, that this was some kind of game to him. He was simply amusing himself with the human, and her desperation to save her kingdom meant nothing to him.

  She wanted to dive head-first into pity, but after having nothing but time to reflect on it, she was thankful Roderic had been sent on his way. If anyone could make it, he could. She had complete faith in him. Roderic understood how important their task was. She would have given him permission to go even if she’d been given a choice, so she couldn’t fault him for that. But now she felt abandoned, lost...stuck.

  How had Roderic reacted when Tristan told him she was being kept there as a hostage? Had he argued for her release too? Did he make it clear to Tristan how important Arianrhod was to her? Roderic had gone, so there couldn’t have been too much of an argument about her. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. There was simply no arguing with the elf.

  She took several deep breaths to calm herself. No one but Roderic knew she was here, and if some misfortune befell him, no one would think to look for her. Her family would just assume both of them had disappeared on the way to Wyndham, and that would be that. She would spend the rest of her life at the mercy of a human-hating elf.

  And even if Roderic did make it, there was no guarantee anyone would come looking for her. They’d arrived in Oakenbourne in the middle of the night, and she’d been unconscious. She had no idea where they were. How would her uncle’s army find them? Would Tristan give her back if Arianrhod was retaken from Jariath?

  Will he ever let me go?

  Tristan had been so kind to her that day in his private garden. It had all been a cruel charade. She’d asked to see Roderic, and he’d known then that he was already gone. He’d known the whole time and refused to tell her. Instead, she had to find out from the Sylvan council, and that hadn’t gone very well at all. He was the worst kind of liar, and she didn’t know if she could forgive him for putting her in that position. If only he’d been honest with her... but he seemed to have many secrets.

  She leaned her head against the wall, thought of Maeve, and felt the tears well up again. I love that little girl so much. She would grow up to be a beautiful, strong woman, and Aislin was sick with regret that she wouldn’t be there to see it.

  Nothing made sense, and thinking was just too painful. She focused on the bars of her cell and willed the comforting gray swirls to fill her mind. Exhausted and emotionally spent, she was finally able to drop off to sleep.

  Tristan, unable to calm his thoughts, lay in his bed staring into the darkness. He was filled with remorse at how easily Duff had been able to bait Aislin into an outburst of anger—an outburst he could have avoided if he’d been honest with her and given her a choice. They thought the worst of her now—just another ill-tempered, ugly human deserving of death. He wondered how he was ever going to make things right.

  The entire council was furious with him, and he didn’t blame them one bit. Humans were the enemy. It had been that way for over a hundred years. He’d fought long and hard to have the senior elders view him with respect, to gain their trust, to show them the well-being of the Sylvan was all that mattered to him. And now he wanted to keep a human dangling at the end of a chain for nothing more than his own amusement. Given the circumstances, it must appear to council as though he’d lost his mind.

  She’d been warming to him. He
smiled in the dark as he remembered how wonderful she smelled, how she’d relaxed against him when he wrapped his arms around her in the garden. But that was all in the past. He’d seen the light go out of her eyes as he’d given into his own anger and frustration. He’d been quite rough with her, and she wouldn’t be so quick to drop her guard again where he was concerned.

  He sighed, a long troubled sigh. That face, that smile, those eyes. He wanted to hold her, make love to her, keep her with him forever. She was the first thing on his mind in the morning and the last thing at night, and while it felt so good, it was wrong in so many ways. His people would never accept her here, even if he were the chieftain.

  He knew what he had to do, and it felt like a knife in his heart. He had to take her to Wyndham and give her back to her people.

  Chapter Twenty One

  WRAPPING A ROUGH WOOL BLANKET around the two of them, Gwen cradled the unconscious Emara in her arms. Gwen hoped she wasn’t badly injured. She’d really taken a hard blow from Jariath. After what seemed like an eternity, Emara stirred.

  “What happened?” Emara asked weakly.

  “Jariath found the cave. We’re back in the dungeon in Arianrhod.”

  Emara groaned. “What about Maeve? Devin?”

  “They weren’t back from their walk yet, and I saw no sign of them as we were loaded in the boat. If Devin saw the boat, he would have known something was wrong. Thank the gods they weren’t with us.”

  Emara pushed herself up slowly to a sitting position and felt the lump on the back of her head. “Now what do we do?”

  “I don’t know. We can only hope someone gets to Wyndham, and soon. I don’t think Jariath will kill us, but he can surely make us miserable.” Gwen looked around the dungeon. It was cold, damp and filthy. Straw littered the floor of their cell, and there were precious few blankets. If Emara thought the cave was bad, she would complain without end about this.