Men In Chains

by Virginia Reede

  “They must have been most pleased to learn they were wrong,” she said. Her anger was fading. She was beginning to realize how terrible it must have been for them, Jeryl believing all his crew dead, and these men in a strange place without their leader.

  “Yes,” he said, smiling at the memory. “They thought I had come to rescue them.”

  “Ah.” Delinda did not state the obvious—that Jeryl had been in no position to rescue anyone.

  How pleasant, thought Jeryl, to talk to someone who understands without requiring explanation. He tried to recall someone else in his life with whom he had shared such an easy rapport. He loved his brothers, but they were only concerned with farming and their social positions. He got on well with his seafaring companions, but they were by and large an uneducated lot, and even those from more gentle backgrounds were focused almost exclusively on adventure and profit. With Delinda, he felt comfortable even when circumstances created awkwardness. As if confirming his thoughts, she spoke again.

  “She must have been damaged badly for it to take this long to finish repairs.”

  “Not really,” said Jeryl. “But without the benefit of a real shipyard and expert ship-builders, it took longer.”

  “I see,” she said, nodding. She stopped walking and turned to him. “You could have told me, you know.”

  Jeryl sighed. “Yes, I realize now I probably could have.” He took her hand in his own. “But I did not know you as I do now. And I had my men to think about. I could not risk saying anything that might endanger them.”

  He was asking her forgiveness, she realized. She longed to throw herself against his chest and feel his arms slip around her. To break down and cry and beg him not to go. To tell him about his child growing in her belly.

  But she could not do this to him. In his world, he was an important man from a rich family. In this world, even if her dream of ending slavery came to pass, it would likely be generations before women truly saw men as equals.

  As Delinda’s emotions warred, Jeryl watched her face in the moonlight. He could see deep feelings were simmering just below her serene expression, and he felt his heart wrench. God, how he would miss her! He reached out his hand and caressed her cheek. Slowly, slowly, he pulled her to him and lowered his lips to hers.

  Delinda felt all her control slip away. Her arms went around him and her breath caught. If this was to be their last kiss, she would give herself over to it completely. Tears started down her cheeks but she did not notice them. All she could feel was the heat, the tenderness and the rightness of being in this man’s arms. The sounds of the ocean faded away, replaced by the thundering of her heartbeat.

  Jeryl felt the flames of arousal lick at his groin. He pulled his lips from hers and kissed her hair, her face and her throat. Tasting the wetness of her tears, he groaned. “Delinda,” he breathed. “Oh God, Delinda, how I will miss you.”

  Slowly, they stood apart. Delinda did not bother to wipe the tears from her face, but she managed a smile. “You can keep the horse,” she said. “I doubt you will find another that suits you so well.”

  He shook his head. “A sea voyage would be too hard on her. You had better take her back to the estate with you.”

  Back to the estate. Delinda dreaded the ride back, knowing she would not see him again. She toyed with the idea of suggesting they spend one last night together, but knew if the household were to find them missing in the morning, an uproar would be raised that might result in finding the Sheeling before she had a chance to sail.

  “What will you tell the others?” asked Jeryl.

  “The truth,” she replied simply, and he nodded. “I must go back now, Jeryl. If they find me gone…”

  “I know.” Again, he took her hand. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” asked Delinda.

  “For letting me go. For saving my life.” Again, he cupped the side of her face with his hand. “For being my friend.”

  She reached up and placed her own hand over the one that cradled her cheek. She thought perhaps he would kiss her again, but he did not. They stared at one another for a long moment then he dropped his hand and stepped back. “I’ll get the gray. Where is your horse?”

  “I left him by the passage through the rock. He will not have gone far.” Together they headed back toward the opening of the wall, with Jeryl detouring to bring his horse.

  “Will you be able to manage them both?” he asked. “Let me lead her back through the passage for you.”

  “No, I can lead her,” she said. “My horse will follow me if I call him.” Jeryl nodded and relinquished the reins.

  “Goodbye, Delinda,” he said, smiling. “I wish my grandmother could meet you. You would shock her to her toes, but she would like you very much.”

  “I’m sure I would like her too,” said Delinda. She smiled wanly. “Goodbye, Jeryl.” She turned and started into the cleft in the rock, followed by the quietly plodding gray.

  “You’re going to make one hell of a Rahntadrine,” he called after her. He saw only a movement of shadow as she turned her head toward him, then she was gone.

  “Goodbye, Delinda,” he said again quietly to himself. “I will never forget you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Letta, Ostyn, wake up.” The persistent voice seemed to be part of Letta’s dream, and she struggled against it to no avail. “Get up and open the door or we’re coming in anyway.” Letta dragged herself out of a pleasant sleep to find Ostyn already sitting up and blinking.

  “What time is it?” she asked groggily.

  “At least three hours to daylight, I think,” said Ostyn, reaching for his trousers. The pounding on the door resumed and he raised his voice. “We’re awake! Give us a moment.”

  Despite his request, the door opened and Duwall stepped in. He looked wide awake and agitated. Behind him, looking even more ravaged by tears than she had earlier, stood Lora. “I’m sorry to wake you at this hour,” said Duwall. “But Delinda is not in her room and we have an emergency on our hands.”

  “Did you check Jeryl’s room?” asked Letta, realizing a moment too late she might have spoken out of turn in her half-asleep state. Ostyn looked at her quizzically, but Duwall did not seem surprised.

  “Yes, he is not there either,” said Duwall. “Nor are they in the bath, the kitchen, the library or the stables. Two horses are gone.”

  “They must have gone for a ride,” said Letta, lighting a lamp. “Can we not go down to the kitchen so we do not wake the entire house?” Duwall seemed impatient but agreed and the four of them trooped down the stairs. Lora remained silent, but took a seat at the table while Letta lit a fire under the kettle. “Now, what is so important it cannot wait until daylight?”

  “You tell them, Kitten,” said Duwall gently. Lora looked at him and something passed between them.

  She looks terrified, thought Letta. “Lora, what is it?”

  “My name is not Lora,” she said. “It is Beteria.”

  “Beteria?” asked Letta, mystified. The name was somehow familiar, but she could not remember where she had heard it before. “Why did you tell us it was Lora?”

  “Because I was afraid you might recognize the name. I think Jeryl heard my mother call me by name at least once, although he never saw my face.”

  “Your mother?” asked Ostyn.

  “Bloduewedd,” said Beteria.

  The name was greeted by a shocked silence.

  After a long pause, Letta spoke. “You are Bloduewedd’s daughter, and you did not want Delinda to know because you did not think she would hire you.”

  “Yes,” said Beteria, glancing at Duwall, who nodded encouragingly. “But that is not all there was to it.” The kettle started to sing but everyone ignored it as they waited for her to go on. She took a deep breath and continued. “I was sent here by my mother to spy on Delinda, and on all of you.”

  The sound of the kettle became more urgent but no one moved. Finally it reached a scream, and Letta seemed to come out
of a trance. She stood and busied herself with making tea. No one spoke as she measured the leaves, poured the water, filled four mugs and returned to the table.

  “So,” continued Letta after seating herself. “You have been spying on us and reporting back to Bloduewedd?”

  “To Grenda,” corrected Beteria. “Who then took the news to my mother.” Ostyn and Letta exchanged looks, and she hurried on. “But I stopped—weeks ago. I did not show up to meet Grenda like I was supposed to. I thought…I thought…” Beteria broke down and began to sob, her head resting against her arms on the table. Duwall put his hand on her arm, but did not interrupt.

  “What’s going on here?” Korin stood in the doorway in her robe. Seeing the sobbing Beteria, she came and stood behind her. “What is wrong, child?”

  “You had better sit down, Korin,” said Duwall. “It is a long story, but you have only missed the beginning.”

  While Letta got another cup of tea and Beteria tried to compose herself, Duwall related what had already been revealed.

  “I see,” said Korin, frowning. “This is, of course, a serious matter and you must tell Delinda immediately.”

  “We tried,” said Duwall. “But she and Jeryl have gone off somewhere together.”

  “But you do not even know the bad part yet,” said Beteria, causing all faces to turn back to hers. “Three days ago, I heard Jeryl and Delinda talking in the library. They were talking about her becoming Rahntadrine and destroying the Eye of the Goddess.” This last fact had not been spoken of at the meeting the day before, but Korin and Letta nodded without surprise. “I got scared because I knew Mother would never let that happen.”

  “I do not think,” said Korin, “that she is going to have much to say about the matter.”

  “No, you’re wrong,” said Beteria. “She will never give up the Eye or the title, not as long as she lives. She will do anything to keep both, and those disgusting Reliants will help her.”

  “By the time she finds out what Delinda’s intentions are, it will be too late,” said Letta, but Beteria shook her head.

  “She already knows.” said Beteria. “I told Grenda three nights ago. By now she will have raised an army, between her soldiers and the Reliants.”

  “I thought you said you had stopped meeting Grenda,” said Ostyn in disbelief.

  “I had,” said Beteria. “But Duwall and I had a fight and I ran into the forest to be alone, and she was there, and she started taunting me as she always does…” Again, she dissolved into sobs.

  Korin stood. “We must find Delinda immediately. And we must wake everyone up and start preparing. Bloduewedd could already be on her way here.” Her mind whirled with all that must be done. “We especially need Jeryl. He knows about battles and tactics and things like that. Jeryl will know what we must do about this.”

  “Do about what?” said Delinda, startling everyone as she stepped through the scullery door.

  “Thank the Goddess you are here!” said Letta. “Bloduewedd is coming, or we think so, and she may have her soldiers, and we need Jeryl to tell us how to prepare for an attack.”

  “What?” asked Delinda, confused and alarmed. She had cried all the way back from the cove, and felt lightheaded and exhausted. “Why would Bloduewedd attack us? She could not know of our plans.”

  “She can and does,” said Duwall grimly, and Korin explained what had happened. Beteria slumped in her chair, waiting in apparent terror for Delinda’s anger, but other than one hard stare, Delinda ignored her.

  “I am sorry she knows of my plans to destroy the Eye of the Goddess,” she said thoughtfully. “I had hoped to keep that a secret until some of the Reliants had come around. Now she will have them on her side as well.”

  “The Reliants would never give up the dark rahnta in any case,” said Beteria, despite her obvious fear of Delinda’s wrath. “There is something addictive about it. Once they start using it they cannot stop, even if they want to. It is how Mother controls them.” She dropped her head again and spoke quietly. “I thought it might be important for you to know that.”

  “It might,” said Delinda, but other than this small acknowledgement, she continued to ignore the young girl. “In any case, I think you are correct that we must expect her to show up, no doubt with a group of armed women, with the intention of arresting me for treason.”

  “They will not arrest you,” said Beteria. The young woman seemed determined to give Delinda as much information as she could, despite her own precarious position. “She would never be satisfied with that. You might prevail. She intends to incite the Reliants to kill you, I am sure of it.”

  “Why should I trust you?” asked Delinda, looking directly at Beteria. “Your sole purpose in coming here was to gather information to give your mother an excuse to harm me.”

  “You do not have to trust me, and I would not deserve it if you did,” said Beteria evenly. “But I know my mother better than anyone, and I know Grenda as well. Each one is as bloodthirsty as the other, in her own way.”

  After a moment, Delinda replied, “Go on.”

  Beteria nodded. “Grenda and her soldiers are all women who wanted to receive the dark rahnta, but had no aptitude. They needed another way to get power, so Bloduewedd made them into an army. Because they do not have the ability to use rahnta, they are susceptible to it. Mother uses it on them constantly, grooming them to love violence and cruelty, thinking it will make them a more effective tool and because it pleases her to see them make men suffer.”

  Seeing that her audience was paying close attention, she continued. “They love to hurt people, but have few opportunities for real damage other than the occasional punishment or execution of a slave. If a real fight starts, they will be impossible to stop. If they have an excuse to do so, they will slaughter everything in their path.”

  “Where is Jeryl?” asked Korin suddenly. “He is the only one among us who has any experience or training with fighting.”

  “He is not here,” said Delinda shortly. “I will explain later, but we will have to do this without him.”

  “But where has he gone?” asked Letta. “I am sure he would want us to tell him what is going on.”

  “I said I will explain later,” said Delinda sharply, and Letta subsided. “Now we have work to do. Wake everyone and assemble them in the great hall. And hurry!”

  As Duwall, Beteria, Korin and Ostyn rushed to wake others, Letta paused in the doorway. “Will you not tell me?” she asked gently. “Does it have something to do with the baby?”

  Delinda sighed and surrendered to the genuine caring in Letta’s voice. “No, I did not tell him,” she said. “He has gone back to his own land, or will have by midday tomorrow.” Letta’s eyes widened, and she continued. “His ship was not lost as he had thought, and it has been hidden in a cove a little south of where the Kodun River meets the ocean. His crew has been making repairs and they are ready to sail on the late-morning tide.”

  “By cove, do you mean Hidden Harbor?” asked Letta.

  “You know the place?” asked Delinda. “No one has come upon them in all the time they have been there.”

  “I played there as a child,” she said. “Hidden Harbor was my mother’s name for it. But I do not think many people know about it, and it is not close enough to anything to be visited often. We used to camp there sometimes but I have not thought about it for years.”

  “Well, that is where the ship has been.” Delinda stared into an empty cup. “I could not prevent him from going, Letta. This is not his home, and it never will be.”

  “If he knew about the baby he might feel differently.”

  “He might, and it would not be fair of me to use that to keep him here,” said Delinda. “So in the end, I could not tell him.” She wanted to put her head down on her arms and cry for a week, but she was not to have that luxury. She stood, pushing back her chair. “Come, Letta, they will be starting to assemble. We must decide what to do—together.”

  * * * * *
>
  The group that faced Delinda was very different from the excited assembly that had met only the night before. Puzzlement and apprehension showed on their faces, and the light from the hastily kindled fire in the enormous fireplace added to the eerie quality of the predawn hour. This time there was no plan and no prepared remarks. Delinda ached for Jeryl’s comforting presence, but knew she would have to learn to do without it—for the rest of her life. Which, she reflected, might not be too long if she did not handle this matter correctly. When the doors closed behind the last men coming in from the annex, she began.

  “Last night, I told you that it was my intention to replace Bloduewedd as Rahntadrine of Glamurhaven. I had hoped to wait a while before I shared that particular ambition with Bloduewedd herself.” She paused, and was rewarded with a few chuckles. “But it turns out that is not to be. I have learned that Bloduewedd is aware of my purpose, and has known about it for at least two days.”

  A babble of voices burst forth in surprise, and Delinda raised her hand until silence resumed. “In addition, she has learned of a part of my plan I had not yet shared with all of you. She now knows I intend to destroy the Eye of the Goddess, which will in turn extinguish the dark rahnta. By now, she will have informed the Reliants I plan to take away their source of power.” The noise resumed, and this time Delinda let it go on for a few moments. She wanted as many of them as possible to grasp the implication of this information on their own. Finally, the volume diminished.

  “I think it is safe to assume the Reliants will not be happy about my plan,” she said. “And Bloduewedd will not find it too difficult to convince them I must be arrested for treason.” Outraged shouts met this statement but Delinda raised her voice and went on.

  “If that was the only risk, I would gladly accept it,” she said, to a rumble of protest. “But I have been reliably informed that imprisonment will not be her true aim. I have come to believe Bloduewedd will likely converge upon the estate with her soldiers and Reliants, with the stated purpose of arresting me and anyone party to my treasonous plans. That could include any or all of you.”