Blade of Fortriu (47 page)

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Authors: Juliet Marillier

BOOK: Blade of Fortriu
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“My lord—” Her voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat, sipped her mead, and tried again. “My lord, I can hardly settle to enjoying
a meal when I’ve just been told my maid has endured a beating. And—” She hesitated, knowing it was ill-considered, then plunged ahead, suddenly unable to hold back the words. “I’m uncomfortable about the rules you maintain in the house: the subjects that one cannot discuss, the restrictions on going outside the walls. If I’m to be mistress here, I must have workable arrangements with the serving
people. I’d have welcomed the opportunity to speak to Faolan once or twice, as he is the only person I have here from home. Alpin, I … I think it’s odd that your brother’s crime is so shrouded in secrecy. That suggests to me an … irregularity.”
“Go on,” Alpin said. His voice had gone quiet.
“It would be dreadfully unjust if Drustan had been locked up all these years for a crime he didn’t commit.”
His brows rose. “What alternative theory do you propose?”
“I have no theory.”
“Are you accusing me of lying? Is that what this amounts to?”
“No, my lord,” Ana said, flinching before the cold strength that had entered his eyes. “As you were not present when Lady Erisa died, your own account must rely on others’. I’m sure you believe it is true, as do the other folk I have spoken to.”
“What
other folk? This is forbidden territory for my household. Who’s been talking?”
Ana swallowed. “I asked Orna. She did not tell the tale, just said your version was the one folk considered accurate. There is nobody else here to ask. Your old servants all seem to have gone away.”
“You find that odd, do you?” Now Alpin, too, had abandoned his supper.
“Unusual, certainly.”
“I want as few reminders
of that dark day around me as possible.”
“But you keep him here.”
“Him?”
“Your brother. You keep him here at Briar Wood.”
Alpin’s stare was intense. It seemed to Ana that he was trying to read her thoughts; that he would wrench her secrets out of her if he must.
“I wonder,” he said quietly, “how this idea got into your head; the idea that there might be another story. The notion that the
madman might not be guilty of his crime. Do you feel so little for me that you spend all your energy on going over my personal tragedy, raking up the halfforgotten anguish of my past? Has it somehow escaped your attention that we are to be married tomorrow?”
“Indeed not, my lord.” His behavior was scaring her, and she could hear the wobble in her own voice. “That is my reason for raising these
matters now. There should be trust between husband and wife. Trust and honesty. I’m concerned for the future—”
“Rubbish!” Alpin thumped a fist on the table; he was no longer quiet and controlled. “You’re not concerned about anything of the kind. It’s Drustan who fills your thoughts and consumes your energy. Why would you entertain this obsession with his guilt or innocence unless someone had
given you another story to believe? Most women would shun him; most brides would be glad he was shut away where he can do no more harm. Not you. Explain yourself!”
She took an unsteady breath. “I have no idea what you mean, my lord.”
“You’re lying.” Alpin rose to his feet, striding around the table to her side where he stood over her, hands on hips, legs apart, glaring down. “He’s put this
into your head, the crazy man, the wild man—he’s spun a web of falsehoods and you’ve been caught in it fair and square. I can just see it, you with your ladylike manners and your gentle ways, you’d have a soft spot for every stray dog or injured creature or miscreant with a tale of injustice. He always had a beguiling way with him; he’d twist words to mean whatever he wanted them to. Me, I’m a plain
thinker and a plain talker. No wonder you shrink away when I try to touch you.”
Ana made to protest; the look on his face held her mute and still.
“No wonder you think I’m not good enough for a lady of royal blood. It’s all him, isn’t it? That wretch has poisoned your mind and turned you against me. He’s wheedled his way into your affections; he’s out to ruin my chance of a future yet again.
Tell me! Tell me!” Alpin seized her by the arms and dragged her to her feet. His grip was painfully strong.
“That’s not true,” Ana whispered. “Let me go, you’re hurting me.”
The grip tightened, and she could not suppress a cry of pain. “It is true,” Alpin growled, his bearded face close to hers, anger flushing his skin to a mottled purple-red. “I know it’s true. I know about your little sewing
afternoons, your private sojourns up in the courtyard with that maid of yours, and the conversations you’ve been having. A flaw in the construction of his prison, apparently; how could I have overlooked it?”
Ana had not believed she could be any more frightened, but she looked past Alpin as he said this and saw a tiny bird fly in to land on the windowsill, a brave small presence in gold and brown.
She turned her gaze away quickly. “Sit down, my lord, please,” she said, remembering Orna’s advice.
“Don’t presume to give me orders in my own home.” He gave her a shake; her head reeled. “Certain information came my way and I sent a boy up there today to verify it. He heard you. You’re a cheat and a liar, and you’re certainly not the pure princess you make yourself out to be! How dare you play
the part of lady, putting me through hell with your pretense of modesty, when every day you’ve been murmuring love-talk to my brother? Answer me, by all the gods, or I’ll have it out of you another way!”
“Please let me go. You’re scaring me.”
“Tell me, curse you!” He shook her again; her teeth seemed to jar in her head, and she could barely find her voice.
“I did speak to him, yes. Not what
you say. Just idle talk. I felt sorry for him. It is a long time of solitude. Since he speaks like a rational man, I thought … I believed … Is this why you’ve punished Ludha? Did she tell you … did you make her … ?”
“Agh!” With an explosive sound of disgust, Alpin threw her back down to her seat. “That cur, that godforsaken excuse for a man! I should have made an end of him seven years ago; I
should have had the courage. The ties of kinship are no more than fetters when such atrocities are committed. If he’d not been of my blood he’d have been disposed of within a day, his head displayed over my gate, his corpse left for crows to feast on. How could you listen to him? How could you be so stupid?”
Ana rose to her feet. She tried to summon the queenly dignity that had proved so helpful
in the past when she was distressed or afraid. Head high, back straight, brows lifted. The cold terror did not relinquish its grip on her heart. “I don’t intend to remain here being shouted at and manhandled,” she said with as much dignity as she could summon. “Before I retire tonight I wish to see my maid, to ensure she has not been mistreated. And I want to see Faolan.” Her voice shook on his
name. “I wish to see my bard without you present; I am happy for another to be in attendance, perhaps the druid.”
“Not so fast.” He came to stand before her again. Ana calculated the number of steps to the door, and wondered whether there would be any point in running to her chamber and locking herself in. “You’re in no position to begin making demands,” Alpin went on. “What my informant heard
up there wasn’t just passing the time of day. He described it as a great deal more than that. What he told me made me unhappy, Ana. Very unhappy, and more than a little angry.”
“You no longer wish to go ahead with this marriage?” The question trembled between the recognition of strategic failure and a wild, impossible hope.
“What, and ruin King Bridei’s treaty? Hardly. Besides, what a waste
of all that sewing. Shame your maid won’t be here to see you in the confection she fashioned for you. But I’ll see it. I’ll see you smile in it, and make your promises in it, and I’ll watch the look on your face as I strip it off you and take what you don’t want to give me, because the man you save your sweet words for, the man you’re lusting after, the man you’re panting for is that benighted lunatic
Drustan!”
“How dare you!” The bitter injustice of it filled her heart, and for a moment fury took the place of caution. “Your brother is a hundred times the man you are!”
His fist came across like a thunderbolt, cracking into her jaw, and she fell across the table, her head and neck a red hot ball of pain. As she staggered back to her feet, the wren flew across to her shoulder, its small, twittering
voice blending strangely with the harsh sound of Alpin’s labored breathing.
“I said to you once,” Ana gasped, “that if you raised a hand to me I would not marry you, treaty or no treaty. Fetch the druid, and send for Faolan. I’ll have no more of this.” The bird had made no attempt to conceal itself. She willed it to fly away.
“You’re a whore, even if it’s only in your mind,” Alpin said, his
tone rough. “You were heard, and your defense of my brother proves it. You’re in no position to dictate what should or should not unfold.”
“You forget, I am the one who must sign the treaty on Bridei’s behalf.” Her whole body was shaking. “I want to see Faolan. I will not—”
“Stop right there.” Alpin’s eyes were on the bird. Ana took a step back. “For you, there is no
cannot,
no
will not
. You’ve
broken the rules. You’ve talked to my brother; you’ve allowed him to insinuate his way into your heart, and if he were not safely behind locked doors, no doubt he’d be in your bed as well, making up for all those years when women only featured in his crazy dreams.”
“I won’t listen to this. If Faolan knew you had hurt me, he would—”
“Shut your mouth!” His fist came up again, and she fell silent;
her courage did not stretch quite as far as that. Trying to run would be futile, since it was plain he could outpace her. And it was his guard who stood beyond the door. Did these people all know what Alpin was? Perhaps, in the world of the Caitt, such behavior was quite normal. “Faolan, you will find, is unlikely to be of much assistance to you tonight,” Alpin said. “As for you, my dear, there’s
no backing out of the treaty, or of the marriage, at this late stage. Wanton as you are, liar and dissembler, you do bear a certain bloodline, and you will bear sons for me. I don’t care if that’s to your taste or not. Maybe you can think of Drustan while I’m having you; that should help the juices flow. And you’ll sign. Your bard will be leaving the day after tomorrow to take the news back to
Bridei. It’s all arranged.”
“I won’t do it.” Ana spoke through clenched teeth.
Fly away. Now. Fly back to him.
“Yes you will,” said Alpin, and with a snatch as rapid and expert as that of a cat pinning its prey, he reached out and took the wren from her shoulder. In his big fist its body was invisible; Ana could see only the delicate beak, the bright, terrified eyes.
“
Please
—” A strangled whisper
broke from her.
“You will do it. You will do precisely as I tell you, and you won’t run to your tame Gael or to anyone else with tales of woe. You’ll stay away from my brother from now on. No songs, no whispers, no visits from his wretched creatures.” He glanced at the trapped bird; Ana saw its head move frantically as it sought escape, but the hand held it fast. “You’ll sign the treaty, you’ll
go through the handfasting without any show of reluctance, and you’ll open your legs for me when, where, and how
I
choose.”
“No—”
“Yes,” Alpin said. “Because if you fail to do any of those things, I’ll squeeze the life out of Drustan as quickly and surely as
this.”
He fixed her with his gaze, cold and calm now, and tightened his fist.
The wren died without a sound. It was Drustan’s cry that
echoed through every corner of Briar Wood at that moment, the wrenching scream a man utters when a piece of his living heart is torn from his body.
Alpin tossed the little corpse into the fire and wiped his hand on his tunic; a fragment of wispy feather floated gauzily in the air. Ana was without words. Somewhere inside her a child repeated, in a sobbing whisper,
Let this be a dream, let me wake
up now.
“Sit down,” Alpin said.
She sat. After that chilling cry of anguish, there was only silence outside.
“Change of plan, I think. We might sign the treaty now; all parties should be available. I’ve lost my appetite for this cozy supper. And you can see your bard. I think it appropriate that he witness the signing, since he’s to bear the document back to King Bridei. A chance to say your
final farewells. The druid can be present, just as you requested. But I will also be there. I don’t trust you, Ana, and after this I probably never will.”
“You are an evil man,” she said. “Cruel and barbaric. Why do you hate Drustan so?”
“You ask that only because you refuse to recognize the truth. Drustan killed what I loved best. Of course I hate him. He was flawed from the start; he should
have been drowned at birth. He was never like the rest of us. He shouldn’t have come back here.”
“If he had not,” Ana’s voice was quivering with shock and rage, and with the chill knowledge of defeat, “you would not have gained control of his waterways at Dreaming Glen. And he would never have been locked up.”

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