Page 162 of The Daughters of Avalon
For barely an instant the scratch of metal is unbearable to hear, and then I catch the click, and the air itself sighs as the manacles unclasp, releasing my long-imprisoned flesh. Only there, where the alloy resisted myglamour, my skin appears bruised and paper thin, peppered with liver spots. I quickly rub them in relief and the damage is healed before my gaoler can blink. “I hope thevinis better than thevinserved here,” I say, as I slide past my dutiful servant. And now, as I abandon my plush little prison, I reassure him. “Come to me later to claim your prize, my pet.”
“I will,mylady. I will.”
And I leave him to the joys of his trade, as my ravens delight upon the sill and sing to me in chorus.
Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw, caw!
Chapter
Eight
Dressed in leathers, fresh from practice, Rosalynde stood in the bailey, arms crossed, waiting as they lifted the iron portcullis to admit her sister’s cavalcade.
Heavy as it was, it took half a dozen men to lift the heavy, bolted iron, but closing it wasn’t nearly so much of an ordeal. Taking their lessons from Aldergh’s construction, Giles employed pulleys to lift the gate more effectively, but instead of cutting and wasting lengths of rope, a clasp was designed so that the gate would release with the turn of a latch. Little by little, the castle was coming to completion—a bulwark that wouldn’t so easily be vanquished, should Eustace decide to return.
At long last, the gate was open, and Elspeth rode in with an escort of seven well-armed men. She slid down from her mare the instant she spied Rosalynde and came rushing with arms open wide. Tears in her eyes, Rosalynde welcomed her eldest sister, embracing her joyfully.
“Rose,” said Elspeth, returning the embrace, and Rosalynde buried her fingers into the soft velvety folds of her sister’s cloak, grateful for her company.
“Elspeth,” she cried. “What are we to do?”
She held her sister tighter, afraid to let go, and for the longest interval, the two stood embracing, unwilling to part for fear of the void they would suffer—not so acute for Elspeth as it was for Rosalynde, because she and Arwyn had shared a womb. In her absence Rosalynde felt bereft. It was all she could do not to weep inconsolably, and her throat grew too thick to speak as she hugged Elspeth, but thankfully, they had no need to command well-trained men to do their jobs.
Warkworth’s aides moved to assist with the horses. Elspeth’s retainers did the same, giving up their reins and conferring with Rosalynde’s men-at-arms. It was as somber an occasion as any they’d met over the past twenty years, and there were none present who did not understand the loss the sisters had incurred.
Dry though they were at the instant, Elspeth’s eyes were red-rimmed from weeping—as Rosalynde’s must be, as Seren’s must be as well.Poor Seren,Rosalynde thought.
Poor, poor Seren.
At least she and Elspeth had each other. Seren was out there… somewhere, alone in the world. There was simply no way to know if Wilhelm had found her. Every day, Rosalynde feared the worst—that Morwen encountered both her sisters together and even now Seren was being held in London. If that should be the case, Giles would know it soon. And in the meantime, she was sick with worry and anguish.
She didn’t worry so much for Rhiannon as she did for Seren. If there was one thing she knew about Rhiannon, it was that Rhi could fend for herself.
“No word yet?” Elspeth asked, releasing Rose, but reluctantly.
They couldn’t stand in the middle of the open bailey, weeping like babies. They had attendants to see to and men and women who looked to them for direction.
“No word at all,” Rosalynde said, dabbing a finger to the corner of her left eye to stem the stubborn flow of her tears. “Not yet.” And then, realizing her sister had arrived without a wet-nurse and her babes, she peered up in surprise. “Where are the babes?”
Elspeth shook her head somberly. “I daren’t bring them. So much as it pained me to leave them, they are safer at home. We could not be certain Morwen would not set upon us as Mordecai did with you in the woodlot.”
Rosalynde nodded, understanding. A few months ago she and her husband and his half-brother encountered a Shadow Beast in the woodlot south of Whittlewood and Salcey. Although Morwen herself never appeared, if her manservant couldshapeshiftas nodewinethey knew ever could, what more could her mother do? Sadly, Elspeth was right to leave the boys at home. Grown as he might be, it gave her a shiver to think of Giles in her mother’s proximity.
Stubbornly pushing away the thought, she hooked her arm about her sister’s and said, “Come inside. You may tell me everything whilst we dine. The lot of you must be famished.”
“I am not,” said Elspeth, peering back at her escorts, and then her gaze scanned the premises. “I… I have not been hungry since…”
Arwyn.
Rosalynde, too, had felt sick to her belly since theperception. Food was the very last thing on her mind, and despite that, she forced herself to sup when she could, because what good would she be to her people if she wasted away to naught.
“Where is yourdonjon?” Elspeth asked, her tone full of surprise.
Rosalynde smiled gently. “Nodonjonyet. For now, we have a marquee.”
Her sister turned about, examining the immediate surroundings with furrowed brow. Her gaze returned to Rosalynde, inspecting her leathers with a troubled expression. Instinctively, Rosalynde understood her sister’s concern. She and her eldest sister might not be twins, but she knew Elspeth only too well. “Worry not, Ellie. Thedonjonwill be finished soon. In the meantime, we are safe here. Where is Malcom?” she asked, changing the subject.
There was misery in her sister’s voice, but not a trace of bitterness. “Where he e’er is of late—in council with David. For better or worse, he has made his decision. He will nevermore bend the knee to Stephen, nor raise a sword for the glory of England. But, I fear it pains him to turn his back on a man he once loved. Alas, to make matters worse, there are many who oppose his return to David’s council.”
