Page 195 of The Daughters of Avalon
“Aye, m’lady,” she says. “But dinna fash yourself. I’ve spoilt them good and well.”
She’s a Scotswoman, I presume, perhaps long gone from her motherland. Her accent is soft, only with but a hint of English.
“Spoilt?” I ask.
The Scotswoman laughs softly. “Aye,” she says. “Well, ye ken how they be. I canna hold one without rousing the other, so, then, I’ve had Ellyn help me when she can.”
“Sweet, sweet Ellyn,” I say, and I wonder what in the name of the cauldron this woman is prattling about—babies?Could it be, babies? Why didn’t I know?
“I thought for certes I would have them all to myself for at least another fortnight yet,” she says. “But I should ha’e ken.” She waggled a finger, smiling still. “I should ha’e ken.”
Yes, of course, itmustbe babies, and `tis no surprise my eldest bore her husband twins. They are a curse to my blood. I myself suffered more than one, and judging by the manner in which I have been treated, I should have murdered them all before they took their first breaths. I laugh softly, reaching out to grab the lady’s arm for support as I dismount.
At once, a groomsman moves forward to take my horse to the stables. “Saddle a fresh one for me, please,” I command. And then I turn to Cora to say, “I should see them at once.”
I know this is what my daughter would wish, and I would give this wench no reason to see through myglamour. Fortunately, mine is more powerful than most. But this woman is entirely too familiar, threading her arm through mine, and I am outraged by how far my eldest has fallen—consorting with her servants. The woman prattles on and on and on, leading me inside, telling me about kitchens and rushes and servants and suppers. I conceal a yawn, following along. And when she turns to tilt me a questioning glance, I say, “I am so sorry, Cora. I am but weary.”
“Ah, well, dinna fash yourself, Mistress. Only tell me how I may serve ye.”
“Well, there is something I must retrieve, and then I must return to Warkworth. If you will do me any favors it is only to keep this news from my husband.”
I brace myself for questions. As familiar as this woman appears, I fear she will ask me what is so crucial that I would return and leave with such haste. But she does not, and I am relieved. “Very well,” she says. “But I must say, my lord Malcom will hear of this, no doubt. Ye should take another retinue when ye go, or I vow he’ll return in a rage.”
“Nay,” I say, firmly. “We need all the men we can keep. Aldergh’s garrison is too lean as it is.”
“M’lady,” she protests. “I?—”
“I will travel more swiftly alone.”
“But—”
“But naught,” I say. “I am here in one piece, can’t you see. You mustn’t worry for me, Cora. I have my ways, as you know.” I wink then, when she looks at me, and her smile returns.
“Ah, yay, m’lady. Very well. Only please, will ye sup before ye go?”
“Perhaps,” I tell her. “But I have vittles in my pack, and I prefer not to travel by night.”
“Very well,” she says with a sigh, and the pout in her voice reminds me of my long-dead mother—Morgan, whose incessant needling ever drove me to distraction.
At least, she harried me until she learned who I am—not her daughter.
Morgan, do you see me now?
Are you turning in your grave?
But nay,I think, with a slow grin.There is naught of you left but ashes, all scattered to the winds.
“Cora,” I say. “I hope you do not mind, but I prefer to see to the babes on my own. Also, if you please, apprise the cook to provide me a treat for the saddle.”
“Oh,” she says, sounding dismayed. “Yay, of course. I’ll see to it at once, m’lady.” And she leaves me standing at the foot of Aldergh’s stairwell, relieved that she is gone.
I do not know this castle, nor its occupants, but I should take care in that lady’s presence. It is not the way ofmagikto know everything, for I must know a question before theaetherprovides an answer. But I do not need Cora to guide me; given time alone, I will sniff out my reliquary. It calls to me, even now.
Babies, I think, as I climb.
Twins.
My, oh my.
