Reign of Ash (12 page)

A
day later, Glenreith loomed against the twilight sky. Blaine and Piran rode on ahead to warn the guards that the large force approaching the walls was not an invasion. A brief stop at Arengarte had made it plain that while Niklas’s family home could be repaired enough to billet his men, it was going to take some work. In the meantime, a winter storm was brewing, and rations were running thin. Pressing on to Glenreith had been the only real option, and Blaine wanted to prepare his aunt and Edward, the seneschal, for the new arrivals.

“So that young bloke, the one with a chip on his shoulder, he’s your brother?” Piran asked as the Glenreith gates neared.

“Yeah,” Blaine said with a sigh. “That’s Carr.”

“Doesn’t seem real pleased to see you,” Piran observed.

Blaine grimaced. “I brought trouble down on their heads. It wasn’t what I intended, but intentions don’t change results.”

Piran shrugged. “The way I see it, you gave him freedom, and freedom can be a real bitch. Ever wonder why some men will put up with a master who beats the shit out of them rather than run away? Because they’re more afraid of making their own decisions than they are of being beaten. When you’re indentured, you can blame your lot on the sorry son of a bitch who’s your master. But a free man, well, he’s only got himself to blame, don’t he?”

“I hurt people badly enough when I got sent away,” Blaine replied. “I didn’t mean to hurt them more by coming back.”

“Your brother will get over it, or he’ll move on. Either way, he’ll have made a decision, and he’ll have to live with it.”

“You may be right,” Blaine conceded.

“You know I’m right.” Piran gave a glance over his shoulder. “Your friend the captain seems to have taken a shine to our Kestel.”

“If I know Kestel, she’s pumping him for information about what he saw on the warfront,” Blaine replied, resisting the urge to follow Piran’s glance.

Piran shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I wager the ladies think he’s a fair-looking bloke. Kestel’s been cooped up with the likes of us, and a bunch of convicts, for several years now. Wouldn’t be surprised if she has a look around now that we’re back in civilization.”

“I wasn’t sure we
were
back in civilization,” Blaine countered, unsure why Piran’s comment made him uneasy. But by then they had reached the gates of Glenreith, and Blaine swung down from his horse.

“I’m back, and we’ve got reinforcements!” Blaine shouted up to the guard at the gate. “Call for Edward and Lady Judith, and let’s get the gates open before someone makes a target of us.”

They waited for what seemed like forever, and the evening wind whipped around them, carrying with it the first flurries of snow. The dying glow of the sunset was replaced by the light of torches, both on the manor’s outer wall and among the soldiers behind Blaine and Piran. Darkness fell, and finally, the heavy doors creaked open to reveal several of Glenreith’s guards. Geir and Edward stood behind the guards in the entranceway.

“We’re relieved to see you home once more, m’lord,” Edward said. “Sir Geir reached us last night, just after full dark. Tell Captain Theilsson that his men are welcome here, though as you know, our provisions are not bountiful.”

“Niklas sent out a hunting party early in the day,” Blaine said, turning to motion for the others to advance, then walking toward the gates with Piran, both of them leading their horses. “They brought down several deer, so those are dressed and ready to be roasted.”

“I take it that your efforts at Mirdalur did not go quite as you had hoped,” Edward said as they walked into the manor’s large courtyard. “That’s unfortunate, but at least you’ve come back safe.”

Blaine glanced at Geir. “Did you tell him the other news?”

Edward chuckled. “Sir Geir did let it slip that Master Carr was among the soldiers returning with Captain Theilsson. Lady Judith is making a few preparations to welcome both of you home, and she’s asked me to bring you and Carr, and of course your friends and Captain Theilsson, along to the dining room as soon as the captain has seen to his men.” He smiled. “She said to be quick about washing up.”

Blaine exchanged a look with Piran. “We’ve been on the road, ridden through sleet, and had a few skirmishes. It’s going to take a bit more than soaping up hands and face. I’m quite sure you wouldn’t want to be in a warm room with us.”

Edward chuckled. “M’lady was merely asking that you move with all haste.”

Blaine smiled. “I do my best not to keep Aunt Judith waiting, but I need to help Niklas get his soldiers situated before I can make myself presentable.”

Nearly a candlemark later, Blaine headed into the manor house. It had taken some maneuvering, but Blaine, Edward, and Niklas had managed to find quarters for all of Niklas’s soldiers and a few casks of ale to go with the venison roasting in the courtyard.

Carr followed a few paces behind Blaine, refusing to speak except in clipped replies even to Niklas. Kestel and the others had already returned to their rooms to clean up.

Lady Judith McFadden Ainsworth stood framed in the doorway. Although she was in her middle years, she was still a handsome woman with a trim build. The hardship of the last years showed in her face, but when she laughed, it was still possible to imagine just how pretty she had been in her youth. With a joyful cry, she embraced Blaine. “Thank the gods you’ve returned safely. Sir Geir gave us only the barest information – I want to hear all that happened.”

By this time, Mari had joined Judith in the hallway. Mari’s dark hair was caught back in a braided bun, making her look older than her twenty-two years, but fitting for a widowed mother of a young son. Although Mari was smiling, there was a sadness that never left her dark eyes. Blaine hugged his sister and bent to receive a kiss on the cheek. Blaine stepped to the side, guiding Judith to move with him. “We brought someone home with us,” he said and caught Carr with a warning glance.
Be as angry as you want with me, but don’t you dare deny Judith her reunion.

“Carr!” Judith and Mari exclaimed at once and rushed to enfold Carr in their embrace. A variety of emotions flickered across Carr’s features. Alarm, uncertainty, and embarrassment warred with each other as he surrendered to Mari’s kisses and Judith’s hugs. Whether Carr had read the intent in Blaine’s glare or reserved his ill will solely for his brother, he did not, to Blaine’s relief, give vent to the anger he had shown before.

Judith was the first to step away, and she turned from Carr to find Niklas, who hung back, allowing the family to reunite. “Niklas,” she said, moving to take his hand and draw him forward. “We’re in your debt for returning Carr to us safely.”

Blaine’s gaze wandered to where Mari stood. She had moved away from Carr, and now she eyed Niklas with a painful look that tore at Blaine’s heart.
She wants to know what really happened to Evaret, but she’s afraid to hear the details
, he thought. Blaine moved closer and put an arm around Mari’s shoulders. She looked up at him appreciatively and leaned into him, as if the finality of Niklas’s return without her husband put an end to all hope.

“As Blaine may have told you, we’re stretched a bit thin these days,” Judith said apologetically. Despite her worn dress and frayed bodice, she was, as ever, the elegant hostess. “But such a wonderful occasion deserves a celebration. My nephews have both returned home safely. For that we thank Charrot, Esthrane, and all the many gods, above and below.”

A candlemark later, the small group gathered around the table in the manor’s large dining hall, where a spread of cheese and dried meats, small cakes and dried fruits, brined vegetables, and a cask of homemade wine awaited them. One of three large fireplaces at the far end of the room blazed, and a large cauldron simmering with stew warmed in the embers.

Blaine had found a change of clothing among the items he had left behind when he went to Velant, although years of hard work in the prison’s mines meant the waistcoat was snug through the shoulders and chest. Still, the dark brown velvet flattered his coloring, as did the burgundy shirt. Judith had somehow procured fresh clothing for the others, and as Blaine looked across the room, he saw that Verran was resplendent in a silk shirt of midnight purple and black trews.

Dawe’s height had obviously posed a challenge for Judith, for while his satin shirt fit across the chest, both his sleeves and the hem of his brocade trews were a bit too short. Piran, stockier in the chest and thicker through the neck than any of the others, wore a black linen shirt and brocade vest Blaine recognized as having belonged to Ian McFadden. From a distance, the wardrobe Judith had assembled looked quite festive, but up close, Blaine saw the telltale signs of heavy wear, mending, and patches that bore witness to Glenreith’s fall from prosperity.

Everyone turned as Kestel entered the dining room. She wore an emerald silk gown with an intricately embroidered bodice, a dress she had borrowed from either Mari or Judith. Though the fabric showed wear around the edges, the gown flattered her. Her full skirt rustled as she moved gracefully across the room. Kestel’s red hair was swept up into a twist, exposing her slim neck and setting off her features. She had added a touch of rouge to her cheeks and kohl to her eyes. Blaine’s gaze signaled his appreciation and Kestel smiled, inclining her head just a bit, as she joined the group near the table.

Verran pulled a pennywhistle out from a pouch beneath his coat and struck up a merry tune. Dawe grabbed and drained a goblet of wine, shoved a handful of dried fruits into his mouth, and sat next to Verran. He began to tap a rhythm to accompany the melody, something he had done many a time back in Edgeland to while away the endless nights.

Judith took Carr’s arm and steered him around the table, loading a plate for him until he protested, and pressed a goblet into his hand. Blaine could not hear their conversation, but it appeared that Carr was resigned to Judith’s gentle questioning. Mari and Niklas had withdrawn to a far corner of the room, where they spoke together in low tones. From Mari’s stance, Blaine guessed that she pressed Niklas for details about Evaret’s death. As her shoulders began to shake and Niklas drew her to him, allowing her to sob against his chest, Blaine knew Mari had the answers she needed but did not want to hear.

Piran, left on his own, filled a trencher and refilled his goblet, finding a spot by the fire to enjoy both the warmth and the music. Kestel caught up with Blaine as he poured himself a glass of wine and took a selection of the cheese and dried meat. “Glad to be home?” she asked as she held out a glass for Blaine to fill.

“Still getting used to the idea,” Blaine replied.

Kestel’s gaze strayed to where Carr and Judith were talking. “Piran told me that Carr wasn’t completely happy to see you.”

Blaine grimaced. “You could say that.” He sighed. “Maybe he’ll come around. He saw a lot of action in the war. That changes a man, and Carr was barely old enough to enlist when he went off with the army.”

“I’m pleased to see that you made the rest of the journey back safely,” Geir said, and Blaine startled at the
talishte
’s silent approach.

“Just be glad none of Niklas’s men got worse than some broken bones and bruised egos,” Blaine replied. “Although he seemed willing to accept a truce.”

Geir shrugged. “The captain appears to be a reasonable man.” He fingered his goblet, which was filled with fresh deer blood. “Between his men and the
talishte
I’ve gathered, we should be better prepared for the next attempt to restore the magic.” He met Blaine’s gaze. “I’m assuming you intend to try again.”

Blaine sipped his wine. “We’ve got the journal we found when we got out of the Mirdalur ruins. Now that we’re safe, I intend to have a good look at it. But I’d welcome Penhallow’s opinion.”

Geir nodded. “What I sense of him and Connor is that the two of them are safe, for now. I also get a strong image of Quillarth Castle, so I’m guessing that, for some reason, Penhallow felt the need to go there before rejoining us.”

“It’s not going to take Pollard too long to figure out where we’ve gone. I’ve no desire to see him try to lay siege again,” Blaine remarked. “Once the winter storms begin, we could just as easily be bottled up by the weather as by Pollard.” He shook his head. “If that journal did belong to Vigus Quintrel, then I’m hoping it gives us something to work on if there really is a chance to restore the magic.”

Geir drained his cup. “I came by to welcome you and your brother home, but I need to see to the
talishte
. Tomorrow night, let’s have a look at that journal and see whether there are any clues to be gleaned.” With a bow, he slipped out of the room.

Blaine looked up to see Judith approaching. Carr drifted to stand alone along one wall, eyeing the gathering as if unsure where he fit. Mari was gone, and Niklas was now talking with Piran.

“Does Mari need someone to look in on her?” Blaine asked, concerned.

Judith sighed. “I will, in a little bit. She needs some time to be alone with her grief. She had resigned herself to Evaret’s death, but having it confirmed reopens the wound.”