Vision of Light [The Renegades 1]

by Amanda Hilton

  "What do you plan to do now?” Traver returned the missive.

  "I must go to Templeton Castle."

  "Why would you take such a foolish risk?"

  "Mayhap I'll find something there."

  "She could have been in cahoots with her husband,” Traver suggested.

  "'Tis not possible."

  "She might be collateral, a sacrifice, one person for the greater good of our country."

  "I'll not allow anyone to kill her while I still breathe. After the potion, I'll take her to Templeton with me."

  "'Tis risky to take Lady Aislan back to her own home even if she undergoes metamorphosis."

  "There is nothing else I can do."

  "You can leave her here. I'll protect her until you come back."

  Lucien hesitated even though he knew it was the safest course. If anyone else had the ability to protect Aislan, it would be Traver, a man full of honor. Lucien had misjudged only a few people in his life, and the experience had taught him to be wary. He knew all too well appearances could be deceptive, but he trusted Traver with his own life.

  "Between the two of us, we will protect her.” In walked the younger Calvacade from the back room where Lucien had sneaked in occasionally, therefore he could not doubt Traver's awareness of Jaden's eavesdropping.

  Lucien did not need another helping hand, especially from someone he no longer trusted. He did not like the thought of Aislan in Jaden's care, not because of any fear that Jaden would harm Aislan. Jaden loved women. His appreciation of them was not just for show. True to his word, Jaden would die before he would harm any woman.

  Aislan was a passionate woman, and without Lucien around to occupy her time, she probably could end up with this dog charming his way into her bed. The thought filled Lucien with sudden rage, but he tamped it down immediately. He had no choice except to put aside any feeling of possessiveness. He could not take Aislan with him while he sneaked around Templeton Castle, and as a last resort, might have to dig up Temple's body. Lucien could not bear the thought of taking her back to the scene of the massacre.

  "I heard only the last part of your conversation,” Jaden said. “Forsooth, I did not hear anything else. Old Luc thinks I am an informant for the Fulfillment,” Jaden told his brother before turning back to address Lucien. “I serve the king and the Sorsverein. Now, I have lowered myself to deliver messages for some clandestine organization? They cannot do anything for me I cannot get for myself."

  "You are a fuck,” Lucien said.

  "Fine thing to say to someone who risked his hide to save your ass. Good thing I am on your side.” Pulling an object from his pocket, Jaden handed it to Lucien. “Next time, do not be so careless as to leave evidence behind."

  Keeping his expression blank, Lucien opened the missive to read the message he had written for Madam Isabel. “You are with the Fulfillment,” Lucien said flatly.

  "Under the king's orders,” Jaden clarified. “Because of this stupid move on your part, I could blow my cover. Are you not fortunate I am crafty enough to snatch this request? How would you answer the king if this was brought to light?"

  "How did you find this?"

  "You are a lucky bastard. I was there when they turned in your answer. They thought I could convince you to join if I delivered the message to you. I stole the original request, so you do not have to worry about having left evidence behind with your signature emblazoned on it. Eventually, they will figure out I took it and will go after me. You certainly are one lucky bastard. The things I do for my family, and no one appreciates me.” Jaden sat on one of the plush chairs. “I had a long day delivering messages and must now rest my weary limbs. Know how long you will be off to Templeton while Lady Aislan stays here?"

  "As short as possible."

  "Hmm. Is the beautiful Lady Aislan available to me?"

  "What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lucien gritted through his teeth.

  Jaden held up his hands. “I was just checking. We did agree the best thing to do with wenches we are interested in at the same time is to share them rather than brawl for them."

  "I have no interest in this ludicrous conversation.” Traver moved back to his flasks and vials.

  "Of course not. We are not all pristine like you."

  "You are a fuck,” Traver said.

  "All right,” Jaden conceded, looking not the least bit sincere. “I'll try to behave myself, but if the lady is willing, then she is fair game."

  Lucien knew it was his fault for playing this game in the past, but he would not waste his breath arguing about it now. Jaden would do whatever he wanted when it came to pursuing women.

  "Keep your hands off her,” he warned, which caused Jaden to laugh in amusement. Furious, Lucien turned and walked away without looking back.

  * * * *

  Lucien returned to Lilypad late in the night. Aislan lay sleeping, and even though he wanted nothing more than to lie down next to her, he knew he would not be able to resist touching her. He walked to the door to leave, but then hesitated before returning to the bedside. Now, more than ever, Aislan needed to be able to protect herself if he could not be there to watch over her. He could not disregard her penchant for flight. If something happened and she ran, he wanted her capable of taking care of herself until he could come for her.

  Lucien lit a lantern and placed it on the bedside table. Picking up the blank book, he sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. He looked at Aislan as she slept her usual deep sleep, lying on her back, one arm above her head, the other resting across her stomach. The cover lay low at her hips, and he pulled it over her beautiful breasts, lingering for a moment to smooth her hair near her temple. She had unbraided it, the beautiful golden tresses spreading about, framing her delicate face. In sleep, her relaxed features looked ethereal, but beneath that angelic exterior, she had the heart of a beguiling siren. It had taken very little for her to captivate him.

  Lucien forced his attention to the book, flipping through the pages Aislan had written. Every curve and line, every dot and cross was the exact replica of the original book, down to the size and shape. She ended each line at the precise place as the original text, started a new paragraph in the same place, and ended with the same word on the page before continuing on the next page, even including the page number in the exact position. Every table she drew was the exact size of the original. Not only did she record what she saw, she had associated the pronunciation of the words by syllable.

  Her rare ability had nothing to do with sorcery. She did not have to learn how to direct her energy correctly in order to make use of the ability. Lucien did not know the extent of Aislan's power, but he would do whatever he could to prepare her.

  Picking up the scriber, Lucien flipped to the next blank page in the book and started writing. After several pages, he stopped and studied Aislan. Unable to resist touching her, he reached over and lifted a strand of her pale golden hair.

  What a lovely and amazing woman, his Aislan, and it was not just her beauty that held him enthralled. Despite Lucien's exasperation with her in the beginning, which became less as time progressed, he found Aislan's defying, eccentric personality appealing on many levels. She cared nothing about conforming as she pursued her dreams with dogged determination. She saw something in her visions, and she believed in them even when they seemed irrational, such as her obsession with Narisse. Her outrageous demeanor must have made life impossible for her. Yet, she had survived all these years. Now, she had become more flexible as her mind opened up to new ideas. Inquisitive and intelligent, she needed a little more time to grow, and he wanted to be there by her side to experience life with her. She represented everything he had always wanted in a woman.

  Lucien had chosen to train her because no one else would risk the wrath of the Circle. Doing so prohibited him from continuing a sexual relationship with her. Aislan did not understand the serious nature of a sorcery master and apprentice relationship. Not only the Circle forbade it, but the Church also
outlawed this serious transgression.

  Beyond all doubt, Lucien loved her, and he wanted her. If he could, he would wed Aislan immediately, perhaps possibly saving her from censure, but even that was not possible. The Fulfillment traded reliable information, which made them a formidable force and a serious threat to the Crown. If Temple's impersonator was in place, and Lucien could not prove it, then Aislan would have to deal with one more charge on top of her beautiful head if Lucien wedded her.

  A man might get away with bigamy. A woman would be executed.

  Everything pointed to returning to Templeton Castle. In all his life, Lucien had never dealt with the ghost before, and the prospect of digging up Temple's body made him sick. What else could he expect? He had always suspected that one day, someone he killed would come back to haunt him.

  Wearily, Lucien rubbed his eyes and returned to writing.

  * * * *

  Aislan woke and saw Lucien sitting beside her. Getting up, he placed on the bed one of the books he had been reading. Aislan sat up.

  "Do you ever sleep?"

  "I am fine. I hear the maid. She will take care of you."

  "Lucien, wait!"

  He paused only for one moment, and then he left quickly.

  It was certainly a fine way for her to wake up.

  At the first opportunity, Aislan planned to have a talk with Lucien about his inconstant demeanor, which began to cause her great stress. She needed a little stability in her instable world. He could indulge in threesomes, bondage, and all manners of unmentionable sex, and yet he decided to practice abstinence when it came to training and having sex with her at the same time.

  Aislan understood the stigma attached to teacher and student being involved sexually, but the circumstances were different for Lucien and her. They were already lovers before he trained her, and no one had to know anything. She would not be foolish enough to declare to the world that he taught her sorcery and how to read, write, and—well, everything else.

  Unless ... Aislan's instincts told her there had to be something more going on for him to be this tormented. The only way for her to find out would be to get him to stay put long enough to have a discussion with her.

  A maid came in and prepared a partial bath for her where she sat in warm, shallow water getting her hair washed and her body sponged. Afterwards, Aislan got dressed with the maid's help. Lord Traver had been quite generous. Her new clothes were of the highest quality. The white silk dress had a slightly billowing skirt. The waist-length vest had fine embroidery of intricate designs along the lapels. Over this, several strips of colorful, gossamer scarves draped over her left shoulder to float in front and behind her to her knees. The wide belt about her waist gave her dress shape as well as kept the scarves in place. A large, gold brooch studded with tiny gems, some looking like diamonds, anchored the scarves in place. Even the brown boots slipped on her feet were made of the finest leather, soft, supple, and endurable. The maid left Aislan's hair flowing freely about her back, a few strands braided and interweaved with thin ribbons.

  Soon after, another maid brought breakfast before they both left. Aislan ate her meal quickly, and once finished, she went out in search of Lucien, making her way to Lord Traver's laboratory. She found Lucien sitting at a round table outside under the morning sun having a late breakfast with the two Calvacade men, along with the icy duchess and another older woman Aislan had not met.

  Aislan tried to back out of the scene, but they had already seen her. The three men got to their feet.

  Lucien had changed. Dressed to travel, wearing everything in brown, his tunic fell above his knees, a new baldric of brown leather holding his weapons in place. His long, black hair was tied back with a cuff. She marveled again how devastatingly virile and attractive he was. She stood there, her heart constricting just from the sight of him. She adored him and did not know what to do about how she felt.

  "I—my apologies. I did not mean to intrude,” she murmured.

  "Come, milady.” Lucien beckoned with a hand.

  Aislan looked at the older women, apparently the two mothers, and could not budge for the life of her. He went to her, took her hand, and pulled her into the midst of awkwardness.

  "Mother. Auntie. ‘Tis Lady Aislan. Aislan, you have met my mother, the dowager Duchess of Bonneville. ‘Tis Countess Calvacade."

  Aislan had not realized she was surrounded by high nobility. She curtsied appropriately. “Your Grace. Countess."

  The duchess looked at her coldly and only responded with a nod of acknowledgement. The countess got to her feet and offered her hand, which Aislan bent to kiss lightly.

  "My dear child, how utterly lovely you are. Welcome to Calvacade, my dear.” At least she was friendly, and Aislan responded to her warmness by smiling in pleasure. The countess shared her son's dark hair, but she had light blue eyes. “Lucien, I wish you would stay longer so I would have a chance to get to know this beautiful young lady."

  The duchess looked exasperated. Aislan could feel her hostility brimming beneath the forcibly polite façade.

  "Good morn, milady,” Traver interjected quickly, no doubt also sensing a storm brewing.

  "Good morn, Lord Traver.” Aislan curtsied. “Good morn, Lord Jaden."

  "Lord Jaden nothing.” Jaden patted his chair. “Please, my seat is yours."

  Lucien placed a hand on her back and directed her into his own seat while he remained standing behind her.

  "I apologize for intruding.” Aislan tried to get back on her feet as she addressed Lucien. “I already had my breakfast. You are still having yours, milord."

  The duchess looked at Aislan coldly, not at all warming up.

  The countess clicked her tongue. “Dear Helena, must you intimidate the poor child to death? I know you are possessive of your son. I myself feel no woman is good enough for my two boys, but we have to let them go and let them choose their women."

  The duchess’ face flushed, but not in embarrassment. Aislan could see the tight control she held on her temper. “Your Grace, I must beg your forgiveness.” Aislan made her amends. “My manners to you were unforgivable."

  "Lady Aislan, ‘twas my fault,” Jaden interjected, and then turned to the duchess. “Auntie, you should scold me. I plied Lady Aislan with wine, and I should have known better. Please forgive me."

  "Ah, Lady Aislan, how fortunate you are.” The duchess smiled thinly, her voice smooth and polite. “You seem to have acquired an admirer who defended you both quickly and nobly."

  Aislan did not know how to answer. She reacted as she normally did to hostile authority—she felt her own temper rising. The duchess maintained her civility with some apparent effort also. Her face pulled into some semblance of politeness, but her eyes, the same silver color as Lucien's, were icy with dislike.

  Lucien helped Aislan to her feet. “I must apologize for having to take my leave now. Please forgive me, Mother. Auntie. We will not see each other again, so I bid you all farewell. Come, milady.” He dragged Aislan away without further ado.

  "Lucien!” The duchess got to her feet, but he kept going.

  Once out on the path, Aislan had to ask, “What is wrong with your mother?"

  "Do not talk about my mother.” Lucien put her in her place.

  "I apologized to the best of my ability. What must I do to have her forgive me?"

  "Nothing. Just leave it be. We shan't see her again."

  "I said I was sorry."

  "'Tis not you, Aislan."

  Aislan calmed down. “You are no longer angry at me?"

  "I was not angry at you about my mother. ‘Tis not your fault she is who she is."

  His answer implied a bad standing with his mother. Considering her own avaricious family, Aislan wondered how unfortunate both she and Lucien could not rely on their immediate family. Then again, Lucien seemed to be on good terms with the countess and Lord Traver, so at least he had someone he could turn to.

  "I am sorry I interrupted your breakfast,” she
lamented.

  "I was finished.” They reached Lilypad and went inside.

  "You are dressed to travel,” she noted.

  "In a manner of speaking. We cannot stay at Lilypad any longer."

  Aislan perked up at the thought of leaving. “Where shall we go?"

  "Unfortunately,” Lord Traver walked in through the door left open, startling Aislan, “not where ‘twill be a pleasant environment, milady,” he smiled at her regretfully, “but ‘tis necessary."

  Lucien picked up Aislan's bag and stuffed her books and scribers in it. “Come along."

  Lord Traver led the way back out the garden and through a different path. Aislan watched his steps. Hedges moved about. He parted one of the hedges and they squeezed through, then several more until they reached a tunnel. Aislan looked at Lucien questioningly, but he only shrugged. Lord Traver lit a torch. Eventually, they came to a door.

  "'Tis Calvan,” Lord Traver said.

  Chapter 21

  Calvan

  "We live here for a sennight?” Aislan asked, trying not to be dejected. Calvan turned out to be a cold and damp underground chamber. “Will you leave me here by myself while you spend your time in the sunlight?"

  "Aislan, ‘tis the only place we are safe until the time comes for the metamorphosis,” Lucien said patiently.

  "What will happen after that?"

  "Have patience and wait it out. Once you have taken the potion, you will be able to move more freely."

  She looked about the dismal environment. A table and two stools, a bed looking like a slab of rock that would barely fit the two of them, a tiny bedside nightstand, and a hearth with a cauldron for cooking.

  "We leave here in a sennight,” she mumbled, assuring herself. She looked at Lucien and realized her selfishness. He did the best he could for her, considering their fugitive status. “Forgive me,” she said softly, resolving to stop thinking only about herself. The world involved many players, and she would learn to fit in. “Thank you for seeing to my safety."

  His face relaxed. Seeing that she could alleviate his stress considerably by being more accommodating and gracious, Aislan resolved to adapt to everything and never complain again.