The House Of Gaian (17 page)

Liam leaned back in his chair and looked at the other five barons, who were once more gathered around his dining room table. He found it a strange twist of events that the Inquisitors’ attempt to kill him after the barons’ council earlier that summer had resulted in this delegation of midland barons arriving at Willowsbrook to find out why he, and Padrick, had left Durham so hastily. Because of that, the fate of Sylvalan would be decided here. “That’s it, then.”

“That’s it,” Donovan agreed, while the other barons nodded. “The midland barons will gather men from their counties and march north and south to block the roads to the midlands, using the Mother’s Hills as a natural barrier. The barons nearest the western bay will send men there to keep the Inquisitors’ army from coming in by sea. We’ll assume Baron Padrick will lead the western barons in defending the west coastline.” He raked a hand through his hair. “And if he truly does have the Fae as allies, he’s got a stronger fighting force than the rest of us put together. If you’ll write a letter to him, telling him our intentions, I’ll send a courier to Breton as soon as I return home. We can’t afford to have our plans fall into the hands of the Black Coats, so I’ll feel easier about handing the letter over to a rider once I’m back in the midlands.”

“I’ll write the letter this evening,” Liam said.

Donovan started tracing circles on the table with his forefinger. “There’s nothing we can do about harbors like Wellingsford unless some of the southern barons side with us.” He shook his head. “There’s not a lot we can do about a good many things. We don’t have enough fighting men. That’s what it comes down to. If it was just the eastern barons, I think we’d win. But if the barons in Arktos and Wolfram send men to swell the eastern army ... I envy Padrick’s ability to ask the Fae for help.”

From the comments Falco had made to him, Liam didn’t think help from the Fae was something they could hope for. And if they asked for help from the House of Gaian ... He could tell by Donovan’s carefully neutral expression the other man was thinking the same thing. If they asked for help, and got it, would the price be more than they would want to pay? One storm created by one witch had made the roads impassable for days, which was why the barons were still staying with him at Willowsbrook. If one witch could do that much, what could a hundred witches do? A thousand? Could fear of a thousand witches change to hatred of a single witch? Would a village kill one witch or a family of witches to avoid having to live near that kind of power? Was that how it started in Arktos and Wolfram? Had the Inquisitors started out as protectors and defenders, only to become the next power to be feared?

He thought of Breanna and Gwenn and Fiona. Temper and laughter. Passion and compassion. And power balanced by a creed they’d been taught from the cradle.

“Liam?”

He smiled ruefully at Donovan. “Sorry. My mind wandered.” He was about to suggest that they adjourn from the dining room to let the servants set the table for the midday meal when Sloane opened the door after a brief knock.

“A messenger, Baron Liam,” Sloane said. “From Old Willowsbrook.”

The announcement was swiftly followed by one of Donovan’s guards, who had a firm grip on a flushed, excited boy.

“There’s men in the woods!” the boy said. “Armed men. On horses. Clay sent me to warn you.”

Liam leaped to his feet. His mother and little sister were still living at the Old Place with Breanna and her kin. And Donovan’s wife, Gwenn, was there as well, visiting.

“How many men?” Donovan demanded.

“Lots!” the boy replied.

That doesn‘t help much
, Liam thought, as he ran to the stables, shouting for the grooms to get the horses saddled. Donovan ran with him, followed by the other barons.

“Liam,” one of the barons said, puffing. “We”—he gestured to the other four barons—“aren’t fighters, but our guards are good men, skilled with weapons. They’ll go with you.”

Before Liam could agree, Donovan said, “Two from each of you would be welcome.” He turned to Liam. “You can’t leave this place completely undefended.”

In case those men weren’t heading for the manor house in the Old Place but were coming to deal with the upstart young baron who had spoiled the eastern barons’ chance to get the votes they needed for the decrees they wanted passed. And he couldn’t leave four barons who now carried the weight of being leaders in the coming fight for Sylvalan’s survival to the mercy of whoever might be out there.

“Agreed,” he said, swinging into his gelding’s saddle. He wished Oakdancer was there, then decided the stallion was better at the Old Place. The horse could carry two riders. If it came to that, he could toss Breanna and his little sister Brooke onto Oakdancer’s back and tell the horse to run to the Mother’s Hills

—and the stallion would run until it killed him if that’s what it took. “Send someone to Squire Thurston’s estate. He’ll rouse the villagers and the farms.”

He put his heels into the gelding, sending the animal bolting out of the stableyard and up the lane that would lead to the stone bridge. A few moments later, Donovan caught up to him, the guards strung out behind them as each man finished saddling his mount and followed.

They slowed when they reached the bridge. Pointless to damage a horse going over the stones carelessly

—and he remembered the other reason why it was prudent to approach slowly when he saw a small flash of movement near the bank.

“There are men in the woods,” he said, raising his voice. “I beg of you, if they come this way, give what warning you can.”

“Liam,” Donovan said sharply. “What are you playing ...” His words died as six water sprites rose from their hiding places.

“These are yours?” one of the water sprites asked, looking at Liam.

“Yes,” he answered.

“If they throw a copper in the water each time they cross into the Old Place, they will come to no harm,”

the water sprite said.

“Why a copper?” Liam shifted in the saddle. They were wasting time!

The sprite smiled in a way that chilled him. “Because then we will know they are yours, and we will let them pass.”

Donovan stood up in the stirrups, shoved a hand in his pocket, and came up with a few coins. “I don’t have enough coppers for all of us. Will you accept a silver coin this time?”

“We will.”

Donovan tossed the coin in the water, then he and Liam crossed the bridge. As their horses stepped onto the land that was the Old Place, the water sprite shouted, “We saw you kissing Gwenn. We like the way you kiss her. So does she.”

Liam heard several splashes as the water sprites dove into the brook.

“Mother’s tits,” Donovan muttered.

At another time, Liam would have cheerfully teased Donovan about taking care when he indulged in a romantic walk with his wife. But he didn’t feel like teasing as they galloped toward Breanna’s house.

When they reached the arch, he turned left, galloping across the lawn, swearing under his breath.

Donovan was swearing, too, with good reason. Standing in front of the men armed with whatever weapons had easily come to hand were Breanna, Gwenn, and Fiona.

He reined in hard enough to set the gelding back on its haunches and was out of the saddle and pushing through the men to reach his impossibly stubborn sister, who was standing right out in the open with her hair piled up on her head and an arrow nocked in her bow. Fiona also had a bow, and Gwenn was holding a fireplace poker. All three of them were wearing nothing above their skirts except camisoles which covered skin but didn’t exactly hide anything.

After giving the woods a quick scan and detecting no movement, he allowed himself a moment to consider what Breanna wasn’t wearing.

“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked at the same moment Donovan asked, “Gwenn, why are you out here holding a poker?”

“Because it’s hot,” Breanna snapped.

“Because I still can’t hit a target with an arrow,” Gwenn said testily.

We could be fighting for our lives in another minute, and I’m embroiled in a farce
, Liam thought, keeping his eyes focused on the woods. He noticed the guards, after a swift, appreciative glance, were also keeping their eyes on the woods as they moved to stand in front of the women.

One of the guards glanced back at Donovan. “The ladies should go into the house. It will be safer there.”

A hawk’s scream distracted the women before any of them gave the man her opinion. A few moments later, Falco joined them.

“Breanna—” He stopped, stared at her, then asked, “Why are you dressed like that?”

“I will shoot the next man who asks me that,” Breanna said. “Looks like we’ve got company.”

“We do,” Falco said hurriedly as the riders approached on their silent horses. “Breanna, don’t get mad at me for what I say.” He winced. “At least... don’t hurt me.”

The riders came out of the trees, spreading out in a double line. Twenty grim men armed with bows or crossbows. They stared at the armed men facing them. Then their faces changed, freed of the glamour that gave them a human mask.

Before Liam—or Falco—could stop her, Breanna pushed past the guards in front of her and drew back her bow. Falco pushed through to stand behind her, and Liam followed him, forcing the guards to step back.

“You’re trespassing,” Breanna said coldly. “I told your Lightbringer he wasn’t welcome here. I’m telling you the same thing.”

Nerves. Fear. That’s what Liam saw in these men.

One of the Fae urged his horse forward a step. “Falco?”

“Varden,” Falco replied.

“We would speak with you.”

“He has nothing to say to you,” Breanna snapped. Wind suddenly gusted around her.

Falco placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Breanna, love, it will do no harm to let Lord Varden speak.

”

She lowered the bow, easing back the tension on the bowstring before giving Falco a look that would make a man break out in a cold sweat.

Liam watched the Fae. Falco’s familiarity with a witch didn’t reassure them. If anything, it made them more nervous and fearful. But why?

“Can he fly?” Breanna asked.

“No, Varden is a wolf in his other form,” Falco replied.

“Then he won’t like getting tossed up to the treetops if he’s mean to you, will he?”

“I wouldn’t like getting tossed up to the treetops, and I
can
fly,” Falco muttered.

“May we speak?” Varden asked.

“I’d like to hear what he has to say,” Liam said quietly.

Varden gave him an assessing look before dismounting and taking a few steps toward them. “We’ve come to help.”

“Why?” Liam asked. “You’ve never shown any concern for the people I rule or the Mother’s Daughters who live here. You shunned Lord Falco because he did want to help. Why have you come now? Won’t your Lightbringer be displeased?”

“Things have changed.” Varden gave Breanna a nervous glance. “And it hardly matters if Lucian’s displeased since he’s afraid—” He stopped, hesitated, then focused on Falco. “Perhaps you’ve heard there’s a new Lady of the Moon, a new Huntress.”

Falco shook his head. “I’ve heard nothing about the Clans since I left Tir Alainn. So, Dianna was challenged and lost.”

Varden nodded. “The new Huntress is not only a Lady of the Moon, she is a Daughter of the House of Gaian. From the Mother’s Hills. She has said that if the Fae do not help the humans defend Sylvalan, she will close the shining roads in a way that will not destroy Tir Alainn but also will not allow us to come down to the human world. Forever.”

Breanna’s arm went limp. The bow and arrow dropped to the ground.

“Mother’s mercy!” Gwenn pushed her way through the men. She and Breanna stared at each other, then turned to stare at the Fae. “So
you’re
what got Selena so riled up.”

Varden flinched. “Not our Clan.” His eyes flicked toward them, then away. “You know the Huntress?”

“Not well,” Gwenn said. “But well enough to know Selena will do what she says she’ll do.”

“Since you don’t want to be a part of the world, why is this so important to you?” Liam asked.

Falco made a disparaging sound. “Because the game that fills the tables in Tir Alainn comes from the human world. Because we keep few animals except our horses and the shadow hounds. Some chickens for eggs, a few cows for milk. But not enough, if that’s all there was. Perhaps enough to survive, but not live easily ... or well. So it comes down to the Fae once again looking out for themselves.”

“To someone else’s benefit as well,“ Varden said angrily.

“Have you—any of you—seen what the Inquisitors do to witches?” Liam asked softly.

Varden hesitated, then shook his head.

“I have. Some nights, what I saw in those Old Places comes back in dreams that are almost more than I can stand. So I don’t care why you’re here, Fae Lord. I’ll take the help. I’ll take whatever skills your people have that will help us stop the pain and the slaughter and drive the Inquisitors out of our land.

Saving our world is the only way you’ll save your own.”

Varden said nothing. Then, “There’s a rumor that the Hunter has reappeared and is heading east... with the Gatherer. If that rumor is true, I tell you this, gentry Lord. I would rather face these Black Coats than the Hunter.” He hesitated before adding, “With your permission—and yours, Lady—we will ride out now to become more familiar with the land.”