Moonlight (15 page)

The guards jostled Aowyn before him.

Rab’s face matched the shirt beneath his armor. It was pockmarked on one side where the potion had seared his skin. Aowyn wished she could send Maeb to him for healing as penance for her mistake.

Rab’s thick fingers wove together. “State your name.”

Aowyn opened her mouth to speak, but dared not utter a word.

“Your name, girl,” Rab demanded.

Aowyn put her hands to her throat and shook her head.

Rab pointed to her with his dagger. The guards circled Aowyn and pried open her mouth. “She has her tongue, sir.”

Aowyn glared at the guards, incredulous that they would treat her no better than a cow.

“And yet she will not speak.”

Aowyn tried to show Rab again by touching her throat. A few nights in prison were not worth losing another brother over.

“Very well.” Rab sat back in his chair. He scribbled something on a scroll. “
Girl of inconsequential descent.
”

Aowyn’s aching hands closed into fists. She raised her chin.
I am a queen!

Rab glanced up. “You stand here accused of the attempted murder of Vicomte Rab Blacksteed’s life via poisoning. How do you plead?”

Murder
? No. No! This is a mistake!

Rab leaned forward, his dark stare boring through Aowyn. “How do you plead?”

Aowyn choked on her breath and shook her head.
I’m innocent. I never meant to hurt anyone!

Rab leaned his head to one side. “Look,
Girl
. You are young and pretty,” he licked his lips deviously, “and I may be…
persuaded
… to show mercy if you confess.”

Aowyn shook her head indignantly. Rab’s mercy was not the kind a queen deserved!

Rab frowned. “Pity.” He scribbled something else on the parchment and glanced up at Aowyn. “Tell me, where did you get that vial?”

Aowyn pointed to the back of her hand to suggest the runic sign she had seen on the old woman.

Rab’s expression grew darker. “I see. You do know that consorting with witches is punishable by death, do you not?”

Aowyn’s legs felt weak. The room began spinning.

Rab wrote another line on the parchment and then spoke clearly. “Girl of Inconsequence, you are to be burned at the stake, after the wedding of my son, for witchcraft and consorting with a witch.” He waved his hand. “Take her away.”

Aowyn screamed.

Aowyn fixated on the bars of her cell. A short distance away, the rumble of knights clashing on destriers shook the ground to the raucous cheers of the crowd. The sound of lances splintering on shields and armor echoed the breaking of Aowyn’s heart. The cell stank of standing water. Droplets slid down the corners of the walls. A greedy, old rat scampered by. He reared and sniffed the air. Aowyn gave him a wayward look.
I have nothing to give.

The rat squeaked and scuttled under the door to the cell. Aowyn moved closer to the window. Feet shuffled by, setting up tables and banners. Past the bastion, Aowyn saw colorful tents surrounding the stands and the list. A knight in onyx armor and a red plume zipped past on a hulking, high-bred black steed. He unseated his rival with ease. Aowyn thought it must be Rab Blacksteed, no doubt named for the reasons obvious.

Aowyn sighed. The sun reached its zenith. A few more hours and she would be marched to her end. She struggled to come to terms with it. She would finally have rest from her earthly cares. She would be with her mother. Aowyn hoped Sylas would keep to his promise when the one-thousandth moon ro… Aowyn paused. One-thousand moons. It was tonight. She only had to keep to the bargain a few more hours. Her family would be saved.

Salvation came with a price.

Could Aowyn keep her end of the deal? Could she take the secret to her grave?

She wished there was another way.

Aowyn scanned the crush of people hurrying about. She gripped the bars of the window to brace herself as she stood on tiptoe. Rays of sunshine beat down on a face Aowyn could not have been happier to see.
Maeb!

The nursemaid shaded her eyes and scanned tensely. She wrung her hands. Aowyn bit her lip.
Oh, gods. Maeb, please see me!

Maeb swayed as she searched. She turned her back toward the cell window.

Aowyn choked back a cry.
No! Turn back!

Maeb glanced over her shoulder. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Aowyn!”

Aowyn reached through the cell window.
Here. I’m here, Maeb!

Maeb took a few steps toward her.

Aowyn’s heart leapt.

Maeb squinted and leaned from foot to foot and wrung her hands again. Her skin pinked in the sun. Her voice shook. “Aowyn.”

Aowyn smacked the stones outside in an effort to get Maeb’s attention.
Maeb. Over here! Gods, why can she not see me?

“Aowyn!” Maeb called again. She was starting to get strange looks.

Aowyn turned sideways so that her arm stretched further outside.
I’m right here, Maeb.

Aowyn’s fingers wriggled frantically. She waved her arm and tried to make what noise she could. She dare not cry out for her brothers’ sakes, and she did not want to attract the attention of the guards. She slid her arm away for a moment to see Maeb walking through the bastion with her shoulders slumped.

No!
Aowyn kicked the stones of her cell. She grabbed the empty chamber pail and hurled it at the door.
No!

Aowyn slid down against the wall and buried her face in her hands to weep.

***

Xander stood outside facing the priest and the doors of the church with Lady Glenna to his left. He wore all black with a velvet cape trimmed in bear fur. The last of the sunlight shone on Glenna’s hair, crowned with orange blossoms. Jewels of beryl and amethyst adorned her blue gown trimmed with gold. Xander couldn’t help but think how much lovelier Aowyn would appear in the same attire. He linked hands with Glenna who offered him a fond smile. They readied themselves to enter the chapel for the nuptial mass, as vows were taken outside of the churches in the Twelve Kingdoms.

Guests surrounded them, waiting to go into the chapel. A small commotion arose as a short, round woman squabbled anxiously among them. Xander glanced over his shoulder. What was Maeb doing here?

The priest raised his hand over the couple’s heads. “If there are any among you who know why this man and this woman should not be joined together, speak now or forever hold your – ”

“
Adulterer!
” Maeb yelled in the tongue of her king.

Xander turned.

Maeb pushed her way through. “Adulterer. Adulterer!”

The priest leveled a puzzled glare at Xander. “I do not understand her. Is there something you would like to confess that would prohibit you from marrying Lady Glenna?”

Xander cringed, glad that Rab was tied up at the lists and not here to see this.

Maeb crashed into him, then backed away and pointed an accusing finger, panting all the while. “Adulterer.”

Xander took Maeb by the wrist and pulled her close, speaking in her own tongue. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

Maeb, breathless, answered back without hesitation. “Aowyn is here, and she
loves
you!”

Xander’s eyes instantly began scanning the guests, desperately searching for his lady love.

Maeb pulled a lock of his hair to bring his ear closer to her again. “I’ve lost track of her. I fear something terrible has happened.”

Xander winced. He grasped Maeb’s hand and put it from him. “Glenna.” Xander took both of her hands in his. “I know our marriage is important to the kingdom, and we have a friendship, you and I.”

Glenna blinked at him expectantly. “Yes.”

Xander sighed. “I do not love you. I cannot marry you.”

The crowd gasped.

Glenna was quiet a long moment. A bright smile lit her face. “Well that’s a relief!”

Xander’s eyes widened.

Glenna began laughing as though a burden had been lifted from her.

Xander’s head tipped back as he chuckled. A wildness filled him. “This is madness! Why are we here?”

Glenna rolled her eyes. “Something about a contract and outdated laws.”

“We are grown, Glenna…” Xander implied.

Glenna smiled softly. “Yes. Yes, we are. Let us make our own destinies.”

Xander swept her into his arms and kissed her cheek.

Maeb tugged at Xander’s sleeve, pulling him away through a sea of very confused onlookers.

***

A tear slipped down Aowyn’s cheek as the moon ascended. The door to her cell opened, and she rose calmly. She glanced back at the moon and felt as though her mother abided with her.
“My love is like the moon—shining and eternal. And as long as it rises in the sky, you shall never be alone.”

Aowyn faced the guards and raised her chin. She took a deep breath.
I am not alone.

She approached the guards and followed them until they arrived outside.

An executioner fell in behind them.

They walked out into the bailey and strode under the bastion. Aowyn marched down a beaten path near the outer wall. When they turned the corner, she stopped cold. A stake had been erected in a clearing, and an alternating stack of straw and timber climbed around it. The moon shone down on it. Aowyn’s heart paused.

I am not alone,
she repeated to herself.

The guards coerced her into moving again. They approached an opening in the stack. The executioner climbed onto it and pulled Aowyn up beside him.

Aowyn’s heart galloped.
I am not alone.

Although the executioner was a giant to Aowyn, he handled her with more care than the guards had. Aowyn leaned her head back to the stake and gasped for breath as the executioner bound her to the pole. Her eyes fixed on the moon.
Mother!

The executioner hopped down from the pile and layered more straw around Aowyn’s ankles and feet.

Aowyn flexed her arms and closed her fists against the ropes binding her wrists behind her to the stake. She closed her eyes, bathed in moonlight, waiting for the fire to be lit. Her toes curled preemptively. Straw rustled beneath her.

Nothing happened.

Aowyn opened her eyes to see the executioner a short distance off. Lord Rab advanced from the lists carrying a torch. A crush of people formed behind him.

Aowyn whimpered.

She looked at the moon again.
One-thousand! Sylas, where are you?

Aowyn struggled against the stake. She shut her eyes as angry tears slid out.
I summon thee, Sylas Mortas!
She yelled in her head,
I SUMMON THEE, SYLAS MORTAS!

Aowyn’s eyes opened as the crickets’ chirping slowed to an echo and became blurred and airy. It sounded like faeries’ song.

The guards moved to meet their Lord Master, but it was as if they moved through sludge. Their steps blurred. Voices dropped.

A tall form in a black cloak approached Aowyn’s future pyre. He slid back his hood to reveal a shock of orange hair and sallow green skin. “You call and I answer.”

Aowyn’s eyes pleaded with him.

Sylas wagged a spindly finger. “Magic comes with a price, dearie. You said you were willing to pay it.”

Aowyn leaned her head back against the stake. A tear slipped down her ruddy cheek.

“I cannot simply magic it all away,” Sylas reminded.

Aowyn nodded slowly in understanding. It was more than she had bargained for.

Sylas pressed his fingers together to form a point. “It is the simple things that are the most difficult.”

He backed away and drew his hood over his head as a crush of bodies swarmed around him and time rushed forward.

More guards arrived on the scene to help contain the frenzy that would surely come.

Lord Rab stood before the unlit pyre, torch in hand. “I give you one last chance. Confess your crime.”

Aowyn raised her chin and locked her eyes on the moon.
I am the Queen of the Summer Isle, and I am innocent.

Lord Rab shook his head and angled the torch toward the first pile of straw. “Such a waste.”

The pyre jumped to life.

“No!” screamed a voice.

Aowyn’s eyes darted away from mother moon to the voice.

Xander fought against his father. He reached toward the pyre. “Wynnie!”

The fire climbed the stack.

Xander turned to his father. “Please, she’s done nothing! I swear it! I know her.” Xander ventured to reach the pyre again, but the guards held him back. “Aowyn!”