“He guards what’s best kept where
it is, out of sight and away from questions.” Orna’s tone was almost angry. “I’m sorry, my lady, but sometimes it’s better not to ask. Now, I was meaning to say to you, there’s a roll of good fine wool we found set away, in a very pleasing shade of celandine blue. It would look well on you. I thought we might ask Sorala here to make up a tunic and a skirt or two, and Ludha can do the finishing touches.
What do you say?”
If they thought she would be so easily distracted, they thought wrong. “It sounds ideal,” Ana said. “Thank you; you’ve all been most generous. I’d like to see Deord before supper today, Orna. Could you arrange for him to come to Alpin’s chamber? Ludha, I’ll need you there, as well.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Orna said. “Deord keeps his own timetable and makes his own rules. Sometimes
he can’t come.”
“All the same.”
AT THE APPOINTED time she waited, but Deord did not appear. Questioned later, Orna said that yes, indeed, she had asked him, but that he was unavailable today.
“Tomorrow, then,” Ana said, finding herself quite put out by the consistent lack of answers.
“If he can, my lady.”
“This seems odd,” Ana said, looking the housekeeper straight in the eye. “Don’t
the guards here answer to their master? Isn’t it reasonable that, as Alpin’s intended wife, I expect the folk of Briar Wood to attend me on request? I’m giving him a full day’s notice.”
“My lady,” said Orna, “believe me, we’re all glad you’ve come here. We’ve been hoping Lord Alpin would wed again and start to put his life back to rights; it was a dreadful blow to him, what happened to the lady
Erisa. You mustn’t feel ill at ease or unwelcome among us. But we’ve our own ways here, and they may not always be what you’ve been used to at King Bridei’s court. Believe me, this is just a wee door and a few dusty old sheds, and anything you need to know about it, or about Deord, is for my lord to answer. And he will, I’m sure.”
“Very well, Orna. Thank you. I know you’re trying to help.”
“Yes, my lady.”
IT WAS NOT yet dark. The days were lengthening, and the high crowns of the elms, studded with rooks’ nests, stood out against the cool pallor of the evening sky. Ana stood at her window combing her hair and watching the forest birds fly in to roost. Perhaps it didn’t really matter: the little door, the jealously guarded keys, Deord and his supper tray set for two. It was
like something in a tale, the small mystery, the detail out of place that worries at the mind, making it hard to let go. She would appear foolish indeed if she insisted on going through that door and found beyond it exactly what Orna had said was there, dusty storage rooms, neglected outhouses. And Alpin would be back in a few days. In the tales, young women who allowed curiosity to get the better
of them generally came to quick and unpleasant ends. She was being silly. She should concentrate on the sorts of information Faolan might want to take back to Bridei, observations about men and armaments and positions, and not concern herself with what this household plainly wanted kept secret.
There was a whirr of wings and there on the sill before her, not two handspans away, was a hoodie,
surely the same that had aided them at Breaking Ford and shadowed their journey through the forest. It seemed to be on the hunt for nesting materials, for a wisp of something soft and bright dangled from its sharp beak.
“So you’re back,” Ana said softly. “You’re late building a nest; those rooks have had theirs ready a long while, by the looks of it. Now what do you want, I wonder? What is it
you’re trying to tell me, you and your friends?”
The bird took a hop and a jump and came into her chamber, alighting on the storage chest near the window. Its neat dark cape gave it a demure appearance; its eyes were piercingly bright, and seemed to Ana to have a question in them. “I’ve got no answers for you, even if I knew what you wanted,” she said. “All I have are questions of my own.”
The bird dipped its head and laid its burden on the chest by its feet, then looked at her again.
“What is it you have there?” Ana bent to look more closely; the bright-eyed scrutiny did not waver. She picked up the small item and held it in the fading light from the window. Strands of hair; such hair as she had not seen on any head here at Briar Wood, for it was of an unusual tawny shade, wavy
and strong, and took on a fiery glint in the light. The threads were long and curled around her fingers. “Whose is this?” Ana asked, knowing there would be no answer, not until she went out to find one.
The hoodie was looking at her, head tilted; it was waiting. It came to Ana that there was only one response to this strange challenge. She plucked three hairs from her own head, pale gold and
twice the length of those others, and held them out on the palm of her hand. Lightning-quick, the hoodie snatched the strands from her hand and took wing, flying off out the window. Ana’s palm stung; the bird had a businesslike beak.
That night her dreams were full of dark corridors and lurking presences around corners, of steps that went down to nowhere and bolts that could not be unfastened.
She woke at dawn with her mouth parched and her heart racing. She resolved to spend the day in domestic tasks and not to meddle further.
Much to her surprise, when she returned to her chamber after a morning spent talking to the many craftsmen who plied their various trades in the household—Orna introduced her to each—and an afternoon being fitted for her new clothes, the man Deord was waiting
for her in the hallway outside Alpin’s apartments. Ana had already dismissed Ludha, and was unattended.
“You wished to see me.” Deord’s tone was level; he was the calmest-looking man Ana had ever seen. At the same time he seemed dangerous. His build was as powerful as a fighting boar’s, his body muscular and hard under the loose robe.
“Yes, I did.” Now that he was here, she was not at all sure
where to start. Without Ludha present, she could hardly interview a man alone in Alpin’s chamber. She would have to question him here in the hallway. “I wished to meet everyone who lives here at Briar Wood. You know, I suppose, that there is a possibility I may wed Lord Alpin. Your name is Deord?”
He inclined his bald head a little, not speaking.
“I hear you are a special guard.”
“A custodian,
yes, my lady.” His eyes were pale and serene; his air of self-possession had something in common with Faolan’s usual manner. It made Ana feel awkward and uncouth.
“I notice your place of work seems to be through the little door in Lord Alpin’s private chamber. Is that correct?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Ana cleared her throat. “Orna tells me that’s a storage area. Old outhouses. I’m wondering if there
may be some birds in those outhouses?”
A flicker of expression passed across the well-governed features. “That’s possible, my lady.”
“Yours?”
Deord smiled. “No, my lady.”
“Deord,” Ana said, “I’m finding it very difficult to get straight answers to my questions about that door and where it leads to. Are you able to give me those answers?”
He regarded her levelly. “When I cannot tell the truth,”
he said, “I remain silent. There are outhouses. Also living quarters, my own included. And my place of work. Alpin hired me to maintain the security between that part of his house and this, and I’ve done that work well throughout the seven years I’ve been at Briar Wood. That’s all I can tell you. If you want more, you must ask your husband.”
Ana flinched at his tone. “That’s what Orna said. And
he’s not my husband.”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet, and perhaps not at all. The arrangement is conditional.” Why was she telling him this, justifying herself to a serving man? “Very well, Deord, since you make it clear that is the extent of what you’re prepared to tell me, you may go. I expect you have a supper tray to deal with.”
“Yes, my lady.” He turned and was gone.
“COME INSIDE,” DEORD
said. “You must eat something. There’s barley broth here and good cheese. Come on, Drustan. What’s keeping you out there?” He had laid the simple meal out on their small table. The living quarters were made up of two chambers, this with its hearth, its bench, its storage chest, and another behind it with two shelf beds. It was basic in nature; there were no hangings and only a single lamp. Rushes
blanketed the earthen floor. A small alcove in the inner wall housed a privy dug deep into the ground, with a bucket of ash and a scoop set on a stone. Deord maintained everything in a state of scrupulous cleanliness. This was part of his personal discipline, hard-learned and never forgotten.
“Drustan!” he called again. “The soup’s going cold.”
His charge appeared in the doorway, moving soundlessly,
the hoodie on one shoulder and the crossbill on the other. The wren perched on his head, almost hidden in the exuberant bright hair. Drustan’s eyes alerted his keeper; they were full of suppressed excitement.
“What?” Deord said, scrutinizing him.
“Nothing,” said Drustan, thrusting a hand into his pocket and moving to sit at the table. “Deord?”
“Yes?”
“I need to go out. Tonight, tomorrow. It’s
like a flood in me welling up, a fire catching and spreading. It’s like a shout trying to break free. When can we go out again?”
Deord regarded him calmly. “You’ve been building up to it, that’s been plain to see,” he said. “Not tonight. I’m wary of excursions in the dark and the moon is waning. It’s too easy to lose sight of each other in the woods; you know what can happen if we don’t abide
by our agreed rules. Tomorrow, maybe, if the weather holds fair.”
“Have you seen her?” Drustan asked. He held a piece of cheese between his fingers, but did not eat. The hoodie edged down his arm.
“I don’t fetch good food only to see those creatures gobble it up,” Deord said mildly. “Eat, Drustan. You must maintain your strength.”
“For what?” The mobile mouth was suddenly solemn; the brightness
in the strange eyes faded.
“For the future. Someday, something will change. This is not forever.”
“Alpin will not change. I will not change. How can I ever be other than a prisoner?”
Deord chewed on a crust of oaten bread. “Life is change,” he said. “Yes, I’ve seen her and the fellow who came with her. They’re trouble, the pair of them, her with her golden hair and her questions, and him—”
“And him what?” The hoodie had snatched the cheese and retreated to Drustan’s shoulder to eat it.
“He is of a kind I had not expected to see here at Briar Wood,” Deord said.
“What kind? A sorcerer? A priest?”
“No,” Deord said. “He is the same kind as I am.”
Drustan regarded him in silence. After a little, he began to eat his soup.
“What it can mean, I don’t know,” said Deord. “Alpin’s taken
him away on a raiding party.”
“You saw her,” Drustan said. “Is she better now? Happy? You said questions. What questions?”
Deord’s expression was quizzical. “Come now, Drustan,” he said. “Aren’t you in a better position than I to answer that, with your spies there? They’ve been especially busy on their errands these last couple of days.”
“Tell me,” said Drustan. “What questions?”
“She called
me in for a brief interrogation. It was reasonable enough, since she’s to be your brother’s wife and mistress of Briar Wood. Asked me about doors and keys and who lived in this part of the fortress. He hasn’t told her yet, obviously, and nor did I. Oh, and she threw in a casual inquiry about birds.”
Drustan smiled. It lit up his features and set a dazzling brightness in his eyes.
“Drustan,”
Deord said quietly, “I must warn you. Don’t get involved in this; don’t get tangled up in the situation, Alpin and this woman, the marriage, the treaty they’re after, that fellow who quite clearly isn’t the bard they call him. For you, this is perilous ground. Your brother did do as you bade him. He did go out and rescue the girl. Be glad of that, and stay out of it from now on. Think of her, if that
will help. She’s young and full of hopes, and she knows nothing of what happened here in the past. She’s your brother’s best chance of a decent future. Don’t endanger that with your meddling.”
“What is her name?” Drustan asked softly.
“Ana. She’s from the Light Isles, by way of Bridei’s court. Impeccable pedigree, royal blood, and, I’m forced to admit, not only beautiful and apparently virtuous
but perceptive, as well. Her only fault seems to be excess curiosity. Once Alpin tells her the truth, that should cease to be a problem. Let’s hope he does so swiftly.”
“Ana …” Drustan’s fingers, inside his pocket, toyed with the little thing the hoodie had brought him the night before.
“So,” Deord said, “let us hope for good weather tomorrow. Now eat the rest of that supper or you won’t have
the strength to walk over to your bed, let alone out into the woods.”