Page 157 of The Daughters of Avalon
“Aye,” she said. “I will go.” And the tension in the warrior’s shoulders seemed to ease before her eyes. However, before he could rest too easily, she added, “I’ll not leave without Jack.”
His head cocked backward. “Jack?”
“Captain Airard’s son.”
Wilhelm frowned.
She would have him return to the city?
Now?
Even as they’d fled, the King’s Guard had come rushing into the vicinity. By now, every last soul in the city was bound to be watching that ship burn to its bowels. It was the last place he should take Seren. He didn’t even have to think about it; he shook his head. “’Tis unwise to return, m’lady.”
“And will you endeavor to stop me?”
As he sometimes felt with Giles, Wilhelm felt cowed by the marked intelligence in her gaze. And nevertheless, despite that he’d never learned to read like his brother, he could read people well enough, and he knew her question was a trick. If he answered nay, she would test him, and then he would be forced to stop her for her own good. If he said aye, her ire would no doubt return—and so might the storm.
By God, he’d suffered enough witchery these past few months to know he didn’t wish to challenge another Pendragon. That witch storm alone was alarming. He scratched his head, again, for it seemed there was no proper answer. And still he tried, answering her question with a question of his own. “Wouldst you truly have me betray an oath to your sister?”
“Rosalynde?” she asked, and when he nodded, she narrowed her gaze. “How much has she told you?”
“About what?”
She thrust her hands against her hips, eyes red-rimmed—hardly as serene as he remembered her from their first encounter in London, and yet… even in her anger and grief she was far lovelier than he remembered. Wilhelm held her bright silver gaze. “Everything,” he confessed. And then he repeated, lest she mistake him. “Everything.”
She lifted her chin, clearly doubting him. “And?”
“And what?”
She lifted her hands, turning up her palms. “For example?”
“Aye, well…” He peered into the treetops. “I know enough to know that sudden change in weather was no act of God.”
Clearly it was the wrong thing to say, because once again, she sought refuge in anger. “NotyourGod, perhaps,” she said.
“M’lady,” he argued, trying desperately to reason with her. “The King’s Guards are still seeking you. Wouldst you have me leave you to walk straight into their arms? Wouldst you not be better off with my brother and your sister?”
No doubt his question annoyed her; he could tell by her vexed expression. She peered down at the ground, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes, and he felt a swell of pity for her. Then and there, he resigned himself to rise above whatever stones she might throw his way. Whatever Seren needed to get through this, he would allow it—except for that boy. He was firm in that decision, until she began to cry. “I… I c-can’t leave him,” she said despondently. “He has no one. Please, Wilhelm, please!”
Chapter
Six
It was all Seren could do not to collapse into a puddle and weep over his boots.Arwyn, she thought, tears scalding her eyes.Oh, Arwyn!
“He’s old enough to find his own way,” her dubious champion contended, arms akimbo. “If the truth be known, he’s like to have more friends than you and certainly more than me.” He spoke matter-of-factly, not cruelly, and nevertheless, it gave Seren a fit of rancor.
But, of course, it would be true; he was a sour-faced lout and Jack’s father had friends in high places—namely, her sister Matilda—but Jack was still just a boy, and his father was dead. The lack of sympathy in this man’s tone was no less than infuriating. Along with her sweet sister, that boy’s father had perished aboard the Whitshed, and this behemoth expected her to sit idly by and allow a young man to fend for himself in the face of this tragedy? “You expect me to do nothing?”
“I expect you to live to see another day. That isnotnothing.”
Seren lifted her chin, curling her fingers into fists, only daring him to deny her. Perhaps there was naught she could do for Arwyn, but Jack was alive, and he needed help.
“I’llnotleave this city without that boy,” she said stubbornly. “And if you’ll not return to help him, I will.”
She narrowed her eyes in warning, tipping her chin skyward to remind him of thewitchwindshe’d conjured. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know how to use it, she would summon it if need be, along with the wrath of the Goddess herself. “If, in truth, you knowwhoI am, you knowwhatI am capable of, and I will do my worst if you stand in my way.”
For the most part it was a bluff. How could he—or anyone else—know what she was capable of if Seren didn’t even know herself? And yet if Morwen’s sorcery was any indication, she had a very good sense there was quite a lot she and her sisters had yet to learn. And, regardless, Wilhelm already knew what her mother could do; let him wonder if she could do the same.
