Page 2 of The Daughters of Avalon
One
LLANTHONY PRIORY, WALES, JULY 1148
Elspeth reread her mother’s letter, her breath catching painfully.
So, it seemed, for abetting a usurper, the prize should be an Earldom and King Henry’s favorite daughter…Elspeth.
“Married,” her sisters said in unison.
Elspeth nodded affirmation. “Married.” To the new lord of Blackwood.In her boundless greed, their mother had betrayed their grandmother, and in the process, forsook their rights to Blackwood. And for his prowess in battle, that legendary fortress now belonged to an assassin. The estate would return to their family by virtue of marriage, but though the marriage would grant Elspeth the title of lady, it was still her mother d’Lucy was bound to.
Sacred cauldron! It wasn’t enough that Morwen forsook them all these years past. Offered the chance to profit from her daughters, she meant to take it—and make no mistake, while she’d called it a wedding, Elspeth knew very well that she would be naught more than a prisoner changing hands from one gaoler to another.
How sorely she missed the ivy-tangled courtyard and the view of the sea from Blackwood’s tower window, but as much as she relished the notion of returning to the home she’d shared with her grandmamau, she could never bear the thought of lying beneath a vassal of the Usurper. The thought made her feel wretched and filthy.
“Lady of Blackwood,” said Arwyn with a note of wonder. “What I wouldn’t give to see our ancestral home, if only but once.”
Rhiannon’s amber eyes glinted by the firelight as she turned to address the eldest twin. “And would you put our sister at the mercy of an assassin only to appease your curiosity?”
“Of course not,” said Arwyn, defensively. “I was but saying?—”
“I know what you were saying,” Rhiannon snapped. “Elspeth needs no more reason to accept this unholy alliance. I, too, would love to see Blackwood, but I will never step foot there if it means forsaking my flesh and blood.”
“Sisters, please! Let us not fight,” Seren pleaded. “We all knew this time would come. We must steel our hearts and minds.”
At twenty, Seren was the peacemaker. She was the middle child, possessed of their father’s rufous coloring, but with skin so pale and smooth it made the moon and stars weep with joy.
At Nineteen, Rosalynde was the youngest of the living twins, only minutes younger than Arwyn.
Rhiannon was the second eldest, only two years younger than Elspeth. Her amber eyes narrowed. “The granddaughter of a witch is still a witch,evenif she has no knowledge of the Craft. Have you forgotten what they do to witches, Seren? Would you truly wish Elspeth in the hands of a man such as that?”
As always, Rose defended Arwyn and Seren. “There’s no reason for anyone to believe we are aught but good little servants of the realm. For all anyone knows, thesinsof Avalon havepassed away with our Grandmamau. Why would anyone accuse Elspeth?”
“Sins of Avalon?” Rhiannon asked, incensed. “Do not speak such rubbish to me again! And do you truly believe they do not suspect Morwen?”
“That is my point, precisely,” argued Seren. “Mother seems to have weathered suspicion well enough.” Elspeth understood that she was only trying to make the inevitable more palatable. “Elspeth,” she entreated, “For all we know, d’Lucy could be a gentle man. But you might never know it lest you give him a chance.”
“He’s an assassin, Seren!” Rhiannon exploded. “How gentle a man could he possibly be? You needn’t suffer this fate,” Rhiannon pleaded with Elspeth. “You can still leave.Tonight.We have the means and know the words.”
Understanding intuitively what Rhiannon was saying, the sisters all exchanged nervous glances, then peered at the door.
Tonight, as always, the guards had been called to vespers, but as soon as prayers were over, they would return, and in this day and age, when so many feared the Old Ways, the Craft must remain a closely guarded secret. Even the act of referring to sorcery put them all at risk.
Elspeth shook her head, refusing to consider it.
It wasn’t the first time Rhiannon had proposed such a plan. Last time, she’d tried to get them all to leave together, but words or nay, it wasn’t likely all five sisters together would ever succeed in slipping past the guards. And even should they manage to escape, with no one left to delay them, it wouldn’t be long before their presence was missed, and they wouldn’t get very far. Therefore, Rose had steadfastly refused, deathly afraid of what the chaplain would do to them if they were caught.
However, far more of a deterrent to Elspeth, was this: The “words” Rhiannon spoke of were rites ofmagik,never to beuttered lightly. While she would like to believe they could evoke them without consequence, it simply wasn’t true. Here, in the dominion of men, there was no leave to change the will of gods without altering the warp and woof of life. There could be no denying the Law of Three—which was to say, that anymagik, good or bad, once unleashed into the world must return to the summoner threefold. And nevertheless, she deliberated, flicking a thumbnail across the frayed edge of the parchment, wishing things could be different.
If only Matilda could win herself the throne…
“Why should we care who wears father’s crown? It willneverbe Matilda.” Rhiannon said, clearly intruding on Elspeth’s thoughts. “You are too beguiled by our father and hispolitiks. Say what you will about Morwen. At least she knows who she is.”
“Iknow who we are,” countered Elspeth.
Rhiannon lifted her chin. “Iknow who we are as well, Elspeth. We are Daughters of Avalon, and if we but join together, we can do what no other woman can do—including Matilda, for all oursister’sbold, brave words. In truth, she has never given any of us a passing thought—not even you, despite that you seem to enjoy defending her.”
Elspeth overlooked Rhiannon’s bitter tone, realizing that her sister had just cause to feel aggrieved. “She’s had her hands full trying to unseat a usurper,” Elspeth reminded. “What wouldst you have an Empress do? Come have tea in our little hovel?”
