by Julianne Lee
She continued. “Balor always kept one eye shut, for it was so venomous it would kill anyone it looked upon.”
“And Nemed fought that guy?”
“Wouldn’t you have done? Those dreaded, animal-faced Fomors in their glass tower levied a tax upon his people. Two-thirds of the children born to the people of Nemed were to be sacrificed to them, each year on Samhain. Two-thirds. And when the people of Nemed fought, they gained the glass tower of the Fomors, only to be slaughtered in the end and wiped from the face of the earth.”
“Except Nemed himself.”
“Including Nemed.”
“But I’ve seen him walking around.”
“I’m coming to that part of the story. Do ye believe in magic, Alexander?”
“Yes, I do.” That he was living in this century at all was a compelling case for it.
“Then believe that Nemed once lived in the place from which he came, and no longer does. Something has brought him back from that nether-realm of creation.”
“He was dead? A ghost? And now he isn’t?”
She shook her head, frustrated she wasn’t getting through, then thought a moment and said, “Ghost...in a way. But not dead. Many people of the old races have returned to our maker where they are truly what you would call dead, but not all. Nemed and the remnant of his race—”
“Elves.”
Her mouth opened to continue, then closed for her to think a moment. “Another word given by mortals. As good as any, I suppose.” Then she went on with her story. “Nemed and his...elf race fought Balor, and in losing went to a different existence, the nether-realm, waiting for their time to move on. And it made him a very bitter creature.”
“Why?”
“Would you not be bitter if your entire race of people were destroyed by terrible, animal-like gods who wanted to kill your children? Sixteen thousand people returned to their maker in that final battle, leaving him with but a handful, living without life. An unhappy existence for anyone, and he was a king, responsible for the souls of his people.”
“Why does he have a chip on his shoulder about me?”
“Have you asked him?”
“Yes. He’s not forthcoming with information.”
Her eyes went distant as she thought for a moment, then focused on him again. “What were you doing when you first encountered him?”
He thought about the knoll, but then thought further back. To the hooded figure in camp. Then to the red eyes in the burning sky. “I was flying a friend home from my ship.”
“Flying?” This excited her very much. “Humans flying? Truly?”
“Yeah. You know about flying.” She appeared to know about everything else.
“No, I don’t. Tell me about it. Have you wings, then?” She leaned as if to see behind him where his wings might be.
“Well, no. I...it’s a machine. I ride in it and it goes up in the air. At least, I did...I will. In about seven hundred years.”
“Ah.” She sat back and nodded, understanding. “Technology. Of course, you will fly. And that might explain why Nemed is so put out with you.”
“Why, then?”
“Recently, I’m told, a large, fire-breathing bird flew into the midst of a spell Nemed was crafting for the sake of regaining the earth for his handful of people. With all the power he had at his disposal, he’d formed a rift between the worlds for his followers to pass through. He chose a time when thirty strange—and strange-looking—people would not be so easily noticed and feared, and they could live out their days as mortals where life would be easier and longevity more likely than here.”
“I was several thousand feet off the ground.”
“What better place to be certain of not sending them to become part of a structure that will one day be built?”
“What, like a transporter beam putting people inside walls?”
Danu frowned for a moment, puzzled, then her expression cleared as she worked it out and she nodded. “I suppose. He’d thought he could be certain of their safety on the other side.”
“I hope they had parachutes.”
That made her laugh. “I should think if he is capable of sending them through time he would have been able to make certain they did not fall to the earth afterward and die. It would have been part of the spell to give them all a soft landing after traveling the breach.”
“I see.”
“But the large bird—”
“My plane.”
“Aye. You and your friend and your fiery machine flew into the midst of the spell and destroyed his effort. And his people.”
Now Alex was struck silent, stunned. He gazed at Danu for a long moment, then finally found his voice. “Destroyed his people? All of them?”
She nodded.
“I killed thirty innocent people when I flew through that fireball?”
“You sent thirty innocent people to their maker, aye, leaving Nemed on the other side but once more on earth. He walks amongst us once again, alone. You took those people away from him. Even worse, that spell consumed nearly all his power. He’d given his all to send his people to the world, and he has nothing left to speak of as far as power or support. He’s alone and broken.”
Nothing left? After having been blown through the side of a knoll, Alex thought Nemed was pretty powerful. “Nemed hasn’t lost his magic.”
She shook her head. “Nae. He’s lost most, but not all, and that makes him still a formidable creature to face. Be thankful he cannot kill by magic anymore.”
“He can’t kill?”
“With a sword, aye, but not with magic. Were he still able to kill by magic, I’m certain you’d have been sent directly on to the next world by now and we’d not be here speaking of him.”
Alex shuddered. “He claims to have found my soul. He comes to my dreams.”
“As open a book as you are, it’s no surprise he’s found your soul. And you’re certainly not the first human he’s terrorized in this way. You call him ‘elf,’ and some call him ‘Legion.’”
That struck Alex sideways, and he shook his head. “I don’t believe in Satan.” Whatever he might believe in, it was not a guy with a pointy tail and carrying a pitchfork. “I think people are responsible for the evil they cause, not some mustache-twirling villain.”
Danu nodded. “Nevertheless, your soul has been compromised. I assure you what he tells you is true. Has he shown it to you?”
“Shown what?”
“Your soul.”
Alex remembered the dream. The bottomless black that had terrified him so horribly. “No,” he lied. He pressed palms against his chest. “How do I get him out of there?”
“What does he desire?”
“I don’t know. He keeps telling me he wants me to suffer. He keeps...” A flush of embarrassment colored his cheeks as he realized he was about to blurt his deepest shame to a stranger. But he needed her help and forced himself to continue. “He keeps asking me about my wife. It’s like he’s hinting...things. Infidelity.”
“And you’re certain he’s not trying to warn you of—” Alex threw her a sharp glance and she sighed. “No, I suppose not.”
“Listen, if you know this guy, do you think maybe you could talk him into leaving me alone?”
She smiled and waved away the silly thought. “I told you, the creature is bereft and without ties. Those few people were his entire world. Almost literally. He barely knows I exist, and would never listen to me if he heard me.”
“How do I get him to back off?”
“What is it he finds so interesting about your soul?”
“Search me.” A puzzled look crossed her face, and he clarified. “I mean, I don’t know.”
“Perhaps searching you is what you need to do yourself. Are you a good man, Alexander?”
“Yes.” No. The voice echoed in his bones, and it was his own.
She threw her head back and laughed out loud, and anger rose in him. “So certain! I only wish I could be so sure of being g
ood.”
“I do my duty.”
“And that is...”
“I defend my land. And my wife.”
“You keep others away from what is yours.”
“I fight for my country.”
“Your land, as you said.”
“My people. The Scottish people. The MacNeils.”
“You have prospered well by your fighting.”
“That’s not why I do it, though. I do it to protect people.”
“It’s not? If Scotland and the MacNeils are protected and kept safe, do you not prosper then? How do you separate the protecting from the prospering?”
Alex fell silent. Anger roared in his head, and he stared at the ground to keep control over himself. He’d never hit a woman, hut just then he was horribly tempted. While he gazed at the ground, she sighed again and when she spoke her voice was very, very soft.
“Alexander, mo caraid, tell me. Have you ever done anything—anything at all—only because ‘twas the right thing to do? And no other reason?”
Moving only his eyes, he looked over at her. The expression on her face was of sadness. Nearly pity, and he couldn’t stand that. Without another word, he backed out of the faerie ring, stepped onto the track, and resumed his run.
Chapter Twenty
Not long after Alex’s visit with Danu, a messenger from the king came to Eilean Aonarach. Alex and his men were to meet Sir James Douglas in Lochmaben and support his efforts at expanding Robert’s influence in the Lowlands. Both the Bruces were in Ireland, attempting to rid that island of English influence and so protect Scotland on that side. The fight in Scotland was left to Robert’s staunchest supporters.
Alex felt a thrill of pleasure to be called upon, that overrode his dislike of Douglas. More than the prospect of having something interesting to do, this meant the king had faith in him, and since Alex had been well rewarded in the past he anticipated similar compensation. Or better. Perhaps somewhere down the road, if luck went his way and he found opportunities to demonstrate his worth and loyalty to Robert, he might one day even be elevated to the peerage. Ruling class. The prospect was heady.
He gave orders to prepare to leave Eilean Aonarach. Men loaded boats with supplies and new equipment. They checked and repaired armor and weapons, and stepped up training. Alex’s knights were sharp. Not letting them turn lazy during the winter had given them an edge he knew would help them keep up with Douglas’s experienced crew. Sir James had spent the winter harrying the Borderlands. They were, and always had been, the crack troops of the Scottish army, and Alex’s contingent would need to step lively.
During these days Lindsay grew very quiet. In daytime she moved about the castle discreetly, keeping to the shadows and finding things to do away from Alex. Easy enough to accomplish, for women’s concerns hardly ever brought her into his sphere. But he knew she was unhappy. At night she lay beside him, unmoving and silent. He said nothing either, for he didn’t want to start an argument.
Vain hope. When he declined to address her issues, she pressed them on him.
“Why must you go?” She approached him in the anteroom of their chambers, and blocked his exit from the bedchamber. The maid had gone, and they were alone. Alex looked toward the door, but knew the maid wouldn’t return until the argument was finished. He wished she would.
“It’s my job.”
“It is not. It’s not even your duty. You know very well you could send your men and not go yourself.”
He heaved an impatient sigh and wished this stuff weren’t so hard to explain. “I certainly cannot. Maybe if I were an elderly English peer I could stay, but for me to do that right now would be to risk pissing off the king and eventually losing the island if he thought my sympathies might stray. At the very least it would damage my reputation among the vassals.”
“Your reputation as a fighter?” Her tone suggested his reputation wasn’t very important.
“Well, yeah.” His tone suggested she should already know this and having to tell her was a waste of his time. “That’s what I do. It’s how I got here in the first place.”
“Is this what I gave up my independence for? For you to go off and leave me?” Tears glistened in her eyes, and there was so much tension in her she was nearly as still as a mannequin.
The same tension filled him, and he also was quite still as he asked, “You’re sorry you married me?”
“I wish there were some way to be with you more. I never see you in the daytime, and now I won’t even see you at night.”
Realization dawned. “You want to come with me.”
“If you must go. I miss sharing the days with you. Take me with you on the campaign.”
“I won’t put you in that sort of danger.”
‘Alex—”
“No.” His ears and cheeks warmed with anger. “The whole time you were my squire, I white-knuckled every day in fear for your safety. It was a nightmare. Now that you’re safe, I want you to stay that way. I’m not going to let you within reach of the murdering Eng...of those who would hurt you in unthinkable ways.”
“Alex—”
“You remember how frightened you were to be an unattached woman? Do you remember why you bound your breasts and picked up a mace to fight like a man? Well, now that I know what you knew then, I’m exactly as afraid as you were. I couldn’t live with what might happen to you out there. So forget it. There’s no way I’m taking you with me.”
Lindsay turned and fled the room. Alex went after her and shouted from the door, “Lindsay!”
They both froze. Lindsay at the bottom of the stairs turned to glance around the room, her face gone pale. But nobody seemed to have heard. She frowned at him, then continued up the stairs.
But as Alex began to withdraw into the anteroom again, he saw a shadow move in the far corner of the meeting room. Sir Orrin stepped from the corner behind the hearth and watched her ascend, then immediately followed her. Alex hurried after with rising apprehension.
From the top of the stairs Orrin shouted to all who happened to be in the Great Hall, “Oh, ho! So the knight banneret has found a way to slip his member to his squire after all!” Alex broke to a run and arrived at the top of the stairs just as Orrin yanked hard on Lindsay’s dress to rip away the fabric and reveal her breasts.
She screamed, and staggered backward. No bra, of course, so she was laid bare for all to see. Orrin’s face betrayed a shock equal to hers. He’d obviously expected to find a man’s chest and a false bosom.
“Orrin!” Alex bellowed. Rage blinded him and the room became a swarm of reddish shapes. Voices faded into the distance under the roar of blood slamming through him. He drew his dagger and strode toward the knight. Without the slightest hesitation, he plunged it into Orrin’s gut.
The knight doubled over with a loud, outraged cry. Alex wrenched the dagger out sideways, to make certain Orrin would die. Eventually. Then he gave a shove with his boot and the offender toppled, wailing his pain and surprise.
“I thought...” Tears came to his eyes as he realized his foolishness and his approaching end. “You called her Lindsay.”
Alex’s chest heaved and he struggled to focus on the dying knight. “A mistake, Orrin. But only a slip of the tongue, and a far less serious error than yours.” He looked around the room at faces gone white with shock. “Someone take this corpse to the barracks, where I won’t have to listen to him anymore.” He raised his dagger to gesture with its point at the onlookers. “And the next man to lay hand on my wife will suffer the same. I swear it.”
Then he turned to Lindsay, who held her dress to her chest, gaping in shock at the man in agony on the floor. “Get downstairs.”
She went without argument. He followed her, and her maid came behind. By the time they reached the bedchamber, she was weeping, sobbing uncontrollably. “How could you do it?”
The maid hurried to provide another outfit for Lindsay, and began undressing her.
Alex went to the wash bowl to clean hi
s hand and dagger of Orrin’s blood. “He had it coming. He’s had it coming for a long time.”
“You killed him. You know he’s going to die of that wound.”
He shrugged. “He might not. You never know.”
The maid lifted a fresh shift over her head, then Lindsay said, “I do know. There was bile, I could smell it. He might not die till next week, but you know he won’t survive the wound.”
“I said, he deserved it. He’s been begging for it for months. I had to do something; that was just going too far. The men wouldn’t respect me if I let Orrin live after pulling a stunt like that.”
“It’s all about your pride, isn’t it?” She waved off the maid offering a fresh dress, and stood there in her torn shift.
He turned to peer at her. “My pride? How about keeping this household together? Keeping the island in one piece? How about making sure I don’t appear weak enough that someone might decide I’m an easy target for military attack, or even assassination? You just don’t get it, do you?”
“I get that you’ve become something you never were before.”
“You never knew me before.”
“I knew you weren’t like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like...a tyrant. Alex, you just killed a man in cold blood. Necessary or not, before we came here you never would have shrugged it off like this.”
“Like I said, he deserved it.”
“You could have sent him away. Should have, long ago.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I think you’ve decided this little fiefdom is more like a kingdom and you’re the sovereign. You’ve decided you own everything and everyone in it, and so it never occurred to you to send Orrin away. You simply tried to control him, and when he overstepped you put him down like an animal. As if he were a possession to keep or destroy at your whim.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“It’s what I see, Alex. I’ve seen it coming for a long time, and it’s killing me to watch. You’ve become someone I no longer know.”
“If you think that, then you’ve never really known me.”
Eyes wide with grief, she fell silent. They stared at each other, and Alex wished there were something more to say. Something that would make it all go away. She didn’t know him, and had never known him. And she apparently didn’t like what she now saw. Nor did she love.
