“In Glamurhaven, the role of Rahntadrine has taken on more authority than in the other sectors, due to the Eye of the Goddess and the prestige and power granted to its creator. Although I do not believe she will openly send her soldiers to enforce the tradition, we cannot take the chance she will not pass a new law or otherwise use her power to thwart us. Therefore, we must make sure she is not in a position to do so.”
Again, the room fell silent. Delinda saw that Lora had again looked up, and found herself briefly meeting a stare of remarkable intensity. She took a deep breath and continued.
“As many of you know, my mother was Morenna, the last Rahntadrine of a long, unbroken line of women who passed the title from mother to daughter. Bloduewedd took that title away from my mother, using deceptive and dishonest means. She has held it for twenty years, and I now say…” She raised her voice to her most commanding and forceful tone, as Jeryl had instructed, simultaneously summoning the Rahnta, weaving it into a glamour that surrounded her and made her seem even taller and more compelling. “I now declare that she has held that title falsely!” Gasps filled the room, but Delinda continued without pause as her audience sat almost hypnotized by the combination of her power and that of the words she was saying.
“It is time the false Rahntadrine be exposed and stripped of the title she obtained through treachery and deception! It is time for the true Rahntadrine to step forth and take the power she has been unfairly and illegally denied! I, Delinda, daughter of Morenna, am the rightful Rahntadrine of Glamurhaven!”
“For our children!” shouted Letta, who had been coached for this moment. “Delinda for our children!”
“For our sons!” thundered Jeryl, and exactly as planned, the cry was taken up by the men and women assembled in the hall.
“Delinda will save Glamurhaven! Delinda for our sons!” The excited people shouted and hugged one another, tears running down many faces. Many spoke at once and some fell and bowed before Delinda, who raised them to their feet, letting the power of the rahnta continue to flow through the room. Even Duwall seemed to be caught up in the excitement.
Only Lora failed to join the revelers and slipped quietly from the hall unnoticed.
* * * * *
Delinda could not sleep. Virtually no one had returned to work after the meeting, which had lasted several hours after Delinda’s announcement. Jeryl had taken over the discussion of strategy, starting with spreading the word about Letta’s pregnancy. Both of the twins felt sure they would be able to make similar announcements within a few days if their courses, already late, did not start. Several other women were also hopeful and just waiting for time to confirm their optimism.
The more confident among the men were to accompany Delinda to town on all future trips, and be seen conducting estate business on her behalf. This business must clearly consist of more than just running errands.
A large midsummer event was planned, when Delinda would invite her neighbors to the estate for a feast and an evening of merrymaking. They would be able to see for themselves how productive a farm run without the benefit of the dark rahnta could be. Jeryl had let it be known if any of the men felt like giving a guest a personal demonstration of his newfound virility, it would not be discouraged.
The possibility of inviting a few of Bloduewedd’s Reliants to this event was considered, with the decision tabled while Delinda examined whether it would be possible to prevent the dark rahnta from being called within the estate’s borders.
As the afternoon had turned into evening and evening into night, Delinda had been pleased at the enthusiasm of her employees, but frustrated that she was unable to speak to Jeryl privately. Watching him tease the twins about the identities of the fathers of their probable offspring, she had come to the conclusion she had made a mistake in not telling him about the child of his own loins. She had meant to ask him to wait with her until everyone had gone, but he had left in search of Duwall while she was deep in conversation with Korin about the midsummer feast.
Sighing, she got out of bed and put her clothes back on. She decided she would go to his room and tell him she had something that could not wait until morning. Tomorrow was likely to be just as hectic as today, and if she waited she might find herself in the same situation. Leaving her room, she quickly traveled the route to the opposite wing of the house and the hall where Jeryl and a number of the other men still slept. Finding his door, she knocked. There was no answer, but she did not wish to knock any louder for fear of disturbing those in nearby rooms. She opened the door and slipped quietly inside.
It was empty. The bed was rumpled but not unmade. Puzzled, she walked to the balcony and looked out across the starlit fields. To her surprise, she saw his familiar outline heading away from the house. She smiled to herself. She was not the only one unable to sleep. Turning, she left the room and went swiftly down the stairs and out the front door.
Coming around the house, she could no longer see him. He had been heading in the general direction of the stables, so she decided to look there first. When she arrived at the front door to the stable, which was slightly ajar, she could see he was about to place a saddle on the gentle gray he usually rode. Again she smiled, remembering what a terrible horseman he was. The gray was a perfect mount for him—big enough to handle his weight but placid enough for a toddler. She remembered the first night he had been at the estate, when he had ridden away on this very horse, only to surprise her by appearing in the bathhouse not long after dawn.
I wonder where he goes, thought Delinda. Instead of making herself known to him, she backed into the shadows behind the door. For some reason, she did not think he would give her an honest answer if she asked him.
As he finished fastening and tightening all the buckles and straps and made to mount the horse, she decided it was time to find out where his late-night travels took him. The moment he cleared the back door, she grabbed her own saddle.
It took Delinda a fraction of the time to saddle and mount her horse, but she was still afraid he would get too far ahead of her to pick up his trail in the dark. The night was bright, with the better part of a waxing moon in the cloudless, starry sky. When she brought her own mount out the door, he was just disappearing into the woods’ edge. She followed at a pace to match his own, not wanting the sound of the horse’s hooves, as quiet as they were on the springy grass, to catch his attention.
She feared she would not be able to follow him in the wood, but the trail was wide and she doubted he had the horsemanship to leave it and attempt a passage through the underbrush. After a short trip through the trees, the trail ended on a clearing leading to the open sand. Once she reached the hard-packed sand above the waves, the tracks of the gray’s passing were easy to see in the moonlight. She followed them to where a stream forced an inland turn.
After following the stream’s banks for a considerable time, Delinda began to fear Jeryl had turned aside on some path she had missed in the dark. Just as she was about to admit defeat and turn for home, she saw hoof prints in the sandy bank that led to a shallow ford. She could not make out whether the prints resumed on the opposite bank, but decided it would do no harm to look. She was pleased when she found tracks, easily seen in the moonlight that reflected on the stream, leading up the opposite bank and back toward the ocean.
The trail on this side of the stream was easier to follow, and Delinda soon found herself on the beach again, following the distinct tracks in the sand. As cliffs rose on her right, she began to feel a nagging doubt about the notion of following Jeryl. She had thought perhaps he just took a short ride to clear his head and enjoy the stars. As the tracks led farther and farther from the estate, she realized this trip was too long to take for the sake of enjoyment alone. Where could he possibly be leading her?
Delinda looked ahead to see the shore was about to come to an abrupt halt at a sheer cliff that stuck far out into the sea. She started watching for a place where the horse’s tracks would turn and head away from the water, but
became increasingly more mystified when they continued straight toward the wall. Finally, she had to pull up her horse when they could go no further. The tracks of Jeryl’s horse went directly to the edge of the wall, where they seemed to vanish into the very stone.
Chapter Fourteen
The beauty of the starry night was wasted on Jeryl, who was happy to let his horse navigate the now-familiar route. The Sheeling, by now nearly seaworthy, had remained undiscovered in the hidden cove for almost three months. His mind was not on the ship, or even his crew, who had grown optimistic in the last several weeks as the repairs had progressed. His thoughts tonight were all for Delinda.
How magnificent she had been this afternoon! The speech had been carefully planned, of course, with not a small amount of it crafted by Jeryl himself, but he had been unprepared for the difference an audience had made in her delivery. No queen had ever been more regal, no general more inspiring. It had been Korin’s suggestion that Delinda call the rahnta at the crucial moment, and Jeryl had agreed, although he had not really understood she would surround herself with that clear, charged light.
She had seemed like a goddess—too beautiful and terrible for a mortal man to touch. At the same time, there had been something sensual about the way the rahnta spread out from her into the room, and he’d been sharply reminded he had indeed touched her—touched her in a way no other man in the room had. He had become so aroused he’d almost missed his cue when it was his turn to take up the shout.
“Ah, Delinda,” he said aloud, causing the mare to prick up her ears. “If only we were of the same world. What a match we would make!” Even as he said this, he again reminded himself that Delinda would be as lost in his land as he was here.
Although he wasn’t really all that lost anymore, he admitted. Getting the estate running had turned out to be, well, fun. The enthusiasm of his students and their insatiable appetites to learn had made him look forward to each day’s lessons. Ostyn and Duwall were as good friends as any man had ever had, Letta’s kitchen delivered meals any aristocrat in his father’s circle would approve of, and Delinda…
Jeryl fervently hoped Delinda would become Rahntadrine. When she had first told him of her plan, he had thought her a wide-eyed idealist. After seeing how she managed the estate and her many employees, her natural knack for picking out the best people for extra responsibilities and her ability to instill confidence in others, he knew she was born to be a leader. He hated that he would not be around to help her carry out her plans, but he knew that she would manage on her own. She was as capable a person as he had ever met.
When Jeryl arrived at the hidden cleft in the rock without encountering Cristof or Wilfer, he decided he must be early and dismounted to lead his horse into the cove. Now accustomed to the narrow passage, the gray followed him without protest, and soon Jeryl found himself approaching the campsite in the shelter of the cliff face.
The men jumped up at his approach and Wilfer ran toward him, capering like a schoolboy. “She’s ready, Captain! We had her floating from high tide last night to sunrise this morning, and she’s as tight as a drum!” His face shone, and he looked as if he might cry. “We’re going home, Captain! Home!”
“Is this true?” asked Jeryl, turning to Cristof.
“Yes,” said the young officer, smiling. “I’m sorry we were not outside to greet you, sir, but we were figuring the tides for the next few days and deciding when it would be best to leave. As soon as we get out of the cove, we will be visible from the shores above and below the cove, but that really doesn’t matter, as you have told us the people here would not have anything big and fast enough to chase us.”
“So the only thing you are waiting for,” said Jeryl, “is me.”
“That’s right, Captain,” said Cristof. “We still have enough beans and biscuits for the return trip, and we’ve replenished the dried fish and meat over the last weeks. We even found some root vegetables and berries growing wild, and the freshwater casks are all full.”
“Unless there’s some reason you need to go back to get something,” put in Wilfer, “you can stay tonight and we could leave on the late-morning tide tomorrow. It will give us the best chance of clearing the shoals.” Utterances of assent came from the other men, who all looked at Jeryl eagerly.
“Tomorrow morning,” said Jeryl, dazed. After all these weeks, it was time to leave. He looked around at his crewmen’s faces, and realized they were worried because his enthusiasm did not seem to match their own. He forced a smile and tried to make his voice hearty. “Well, lads, do you think we could find some fodder for my horse? I’ve become fond of her and I’m thinking of bringing her back with me.” Everyone laughed, knowing their captain’s distrust of horses, and the tension was broken. Jeryl continued to smile, but he felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach—hard.
* * * * *
Delinda dismounted in order to examine the tracks more closely. Once on the ground, she saw Jeryl had also gotten off his horse here—the prints of his large boots were clearly visible. Looking up at the rock face, she realized what she had thought was a solid wall was actually a fold in the rock that hid a path, easily wide enough for a man and horse. Taking her own mount’s reins, she entered the path.
After a few twists and turns, she emerged onto a beach. She made a sharp intake of breath as she saw the outlines of the Sheeling, clear in the moonlight. She had never seen a ship so large, but had visualized it based on a description he gave to a group of students one night in the great hall. It was beautiful, and she immediately knew why he loved it so.
So this is where he has been coming. What does it mean? She dropped her horse’s reins, knowing he would not venture back into the rock crevice of his own accord, and started toward the ship. As she approached, the sound of men’s voices caused her to change her path and she soon rounded an outcropping of rock to see a fire, in front of which were silhouetted a group of more than a dozen men. She stopped in alarm, but realized they had not seen her. Slowly, she moved so she was shadowed by the rock face but not outlined by the moonlight or its reflection on the water. As she crept closer, she began to make out words.
A young-sounding voice said clearly, “Unless there’s some reason you need to go back to get something, you can stay tonight and we could leave on the late-morning tide tomorrow. It will give us the best chance of clearing the shoals.”
They mean to leave. They mean to leave tomorrow. She held her breath, waiting for Jeryl’s response, although she knew what it must be.
She did not have long to wait. “Well, lads, do you think we could find some fodder for my horse? I’ve become fond of her and I’m thinking of bringing her back with me.” The jovial tone pierced Delinda’s heart, and she put both hands over her mouth to prevent herself from crying out.
He is leaving with them. He is leaving me. I will never see him again. He will never know his child. She forced down a sob, afraid to make a noise. She eased down to a crouch with her back against the rock face, unsure of what to do.
He was not even going to say goodbye. The thought brought pain, but something else as well. A slow stirring of anger was beginning to rise in her belly. How dare he leave without having the decency to tell her! During the last few weeks he had participated in her planning, agreeing to her suggestions for the role he could play in her campaign to win the hearts and minds of the villagers and farmers. He had been stringing her along, letting her believe he was excited about the future and willing to help her achieve her goals.
Delinda looked around, realizing she was crouched in the dark. I am Morenna’s daughter, she though fiercely. I have no need to hide from these men. She brought herself back to an upright position, lifted her chin and strode forward until she knew her face was visible in the light of the fire.
“I do not recall giving you a horse,” she said, clearly but not loudly. She was pleased to note her voice did not shake. “Perhaps it slipped my mind. I have been rather busy of late.”
At
the sound of her voice the men froze, their eyes wide. Jeryl slowly turned to face her.
“Delinda. I did not know you had followed me.”
“That is obvious,” she replied. She noted several of the men were reaching for weapons. “You may tell your men I am alone and no threat to them.”
Jeryl turned his head but did not take his eyes from her. “Boys, this is Delinda, the lady I have told you about. She will not harm anyone.” Delinda noted their hands had stopped in their quest to grasp the hilts of swords and knives, but their postures remained alert. She returned her gaze to Jeryl and their eyes seemed to bore into one another’s. Jeryl cast his away first.
“Cristof, the lady and I need to take a short walk. Go ahead and make your preparations—I will not be long.” He turned to Delinda. “Will you join me?” She inclined her head in assent and he gestured to indicate they would walk toward the water.
They walked in silence for a few moments. Delinda tried to hang on to her anger, which felt vastly preferable to the tears that lurked just behind her façade of indignation. She had no intention of making this easy for him, but when he did not speak, she decided she trusted her voice enough to speak lightly.
“Your ship is beautiful. I have forgotten the name.”
“The Sheeling. It means a lithe young girl in one of the ancient tongues of my land.”
“Sheeling.” Delinda tried out the word. “I felt bad for you when you told me she was destroyed, you know. Have you known all along she was not?”
“No,” said Jeryl. “I found out later.”
“That very night,” she replied.
“Yes.” He did not ask her how she knew.
“I am happy your men were not killed,” she went on, as they approached the place where the ship sat in shallow water. She seemed to be aground, but lines ran to trees. Delinda assumed the high tide would lift her free of the sand.
“Not all of them,” said Jeryl. “Six were lost. The men thought I was dead as well.”
Men In Chains Page 25
