Roses & Thorns (19 page)

Angelique
wet her lips and eyed Ivan nervously. He backed away toward the fire's hearth.
Her throat felt dry, but she managed to ask, "And where was that,
Marguerite?"

"With
your Liege's caravans of goods, of course. One of those odd, little men always
wore it pinned to a cloak or vest somewhere. Then I felt sure it was
magicked."

"We
rather thought," Ivan leaned against the mantle, examining the brooch with
forced casualness, "this might be the piece which lets you all travel back
and forth from that wicked palace to here."

Angelique
looked to each of them anxiously, waiting.

"Yes,"
Ivan smiled, more sincerely this time, as his voice dropped. "Marguerite
suggested we offer you safe haven from this monster that you so dislike."

"Monster?"
Angelique blinked. "I've never said anything about my Liege being a
monster."

"Oh,
come," Marguerite tisk-tisked the young woman. "It has been nearly a
year and you've avoided marrying the man." The older woman's eyes narrowed
shrewdly. "It's obvious you care nothing for him, which admittedly may not
be all that unusual. As you said yourself, a sorcerer's hand can be a far worse
fate than a mere leather strap."

"We
thought," Ivan added, "you could stay here and we'll do our best to
find you a more suitable husband. What about it now?"

"With
a suitable bride price, I presume?" Angelique questioned bitterly. Behind
her Phillip chortled in malicious delight.

"It
would be unreasonable to expect you to marry a poor man, wouldn't it?"
Ivan prompted. "And the sorcerer's marriage was conditional on your own
agreement. I remember that quite specifically."

"Or
your willingness to return me?" Angelique baited coyly.

"Ha!
She sees right through your scheming plots, brother!" Phillip lifted his
cup high in a toast. He rose and sauntered over, whispering to Angelique in an
overly loud voice, "You're worth next to nothing to them if you return to
your magickian's little palace. But should they sell you again? Well!"

"And
if there was a way to return me and insure that more wealth would be
forthcoming?" She queried to Marguerite in particular. "Would that
not be an even better solution?"

"Go
on," Ivan prodded warily.

"Have
you forgotten Mama?"

The
elder brother grunted.

"I
am well aware that I am the daughter of the house," Angelique continued to
address the matron. "It should have become my responsibility to tend Mama
in her later years. There is compensation due my brother, I think."

"And
you believe your sweet husband-to-be would agree?" Ivan sneered.

"My
Liege would agree. I am denied nothing I ask for."

"But
why this small thing? You know as well as I that it’s an oft-ignored custom,
even in the best of families, like ours."

"Our
valley is isolated," Angelique returned rationally, though she did not
feel calm inside. "The customs of outsiders are not well known. My Liege
would not challenge my request on those grounds alone."

Marguerite
stirred. "Ivan said your father-in-law is a Count. Is that true?"

The
question startled her. Angelique nodded warily. "He was. He is dead
now."

"Is
the valley truly so isolated?"

"Yes."

"Your
gentleman's king must be lax-handed with his taxes that your Liege has so much
wealth. Or is the monarch so far away that his tithes are merely
forgotten?"

"My
Liege answers to no one, Madam. Land and folk need be loyal to only one — our
own guardian."

"Your
sorcerer?"

"My
Liege."

With
a faint shrug Marguerite addressed Ivan. "We had hoped to bind a new
contract with the man, but it seems she's worthless to him. He's too powerful
to waste so much coin on such an expensive whim as this little trollop."

"You
dare —" Angelique began, but Marguerite talked over her words and
continued.

"Custom
or none, the sorcerer would not allow himself to be so abused. And we have
nothing else that might even vaguely amuse him."

"But
we do have Angelique," Phillip grinned. He was enjoying his sister's
shocked and angry flush.

"Here,
yes," Marguerite admitted. "The house and shop are warded against the
man —"

"Expensive
safeguards," Ivan grumbled. "You're certain Florence's trade will be
as rich?"

"Nothing
will ever be as rich as what you have now!" Angelique's temper flared.
Ivan spun, ready to strike.

"She
speaks the truth," Marguerite allowed placidly, her tone halting Ivan.

Brother
and sister were standing very close together. The brooch was inches away from
Angelique’s fingertips. At the same moment, they both realized this. Ivan's
eyes grew wide. Angelique leapt for the brooch as Marguerite’s voice shouted,
"Break it quickly, Ivan. Toss it in the fire!"

"No!"

Ivan
danced out of Angelique's reach, his fingers snapping the brooch in two, and
the hearth flames exploded in a wild whoosh of flame as the pieces were
swallowed. Colors of bright green and blue danced in swirling, twisting vines.
The man laughed in triumph, backing away from the inferno to watch the smoking
tendrils of snakes writhe and lift — and then vanish in yellow flames.

"No!"
Angelique dove toward the hearth, even though she knew it was too late.

Ivan
kicked her to her knees, then kicked her again for good measure.

"Phillip,
help your brother," Marguerite called brusquely.

The
man gulped the last of his wine and stood uncertainly. But even drunk, he and
Ivan could easily subdue Angelique. They dragged her along the flagstone floor
and away from the hearth.

"You
can't do this!"

"I'm
afraid we most certainly can," Marguerite smiled.

Angelique
felt her heart grow cold. The malicious pleasure was too bright in the matron's
eyes.

"It's
a shame he hasn't married you. I admit when we invited you to visit, we had not
expected to find you unwed. As his wife, you might just have been able to
negotiate a contract for your mother's care. But this other venture will do
just as nicely."

"My
Liege will come for me," she shouted.

"Your
sorcerer will find you... eventually," Marguerite soothed, still smiling.
"But only after you've been moved from this house. Until then?" She
ended with a delicate shrug.

"No!"
Angelique hissed, rage flaring her
new powers to life. Her voice rose as she cried, "You hide from sight, but
my Liege knows where I am. The moon is new and the power bright!
The Door
will open!"

A
crack of thunder shook the hearth behind Ivan. He and Phillip both jumped away
from Angelique for a moment, looking to Marguerite for reassurance. Smoke
billowed and there was a sound like a banshee's wail that split the air like
lightning. Marguerite merely looked annoyed. "Enough!" she bellowed.
As smoke cleared, she nodded at Ivan. He grabbed Angelique’s arms again.
"It was nothing. The spell in the brooch is properly broken. The thunder
marked it, as she knew it would. Now, Phillip, you brought the key. Use
it."

Culdun
came racing along the corridor even as his Liege was striding near.

"The
gateway! I was at the valley's gate waiting!" The Old One abruptly
reversed his direction as the grim figure marched by. "My Liege! The gate
opened. She tried. For a brief moment, it did open!"

"I
know." The voice was stony. The woman flung out her hand and the terrace
doors swept open as if blown by a mighty wind. "Something is wrong,
Culdun. And it is time to see what."

"No!"

Angelique's
fists beat the wood, pummeling uselessly as the laughter beyond the door faded.
When Angelique understood there would not be a reprieve, she sobbed, sliding to
the floor. It couldn't end this way! It must not! When her tears were done, she
steeled her nerves and began to look for a solution.

The
window was shuttered. An old mirror lay nearby. Slowly, her eyes adjusted. She
was in the very small room beneath the turret's eves. It was flanked by
Marguerite's room and the private stairwell. Thick plaster walls and strong
timbers would muffle her cries. In here, neither the servants nor her mother
would ever hear her.

It
was ironic that she now found herself in the same room she had used as a child
to hide from Aloysius. She'd never known there was a key. And now there were
wards as well. Without the brooch, she was not certain Drew could even send
someone to search for her. But would she? Which assumption would she follow —
that Angelique was in trouble and needed her aid or that Angelique had
abandoned her? Angelique hoped it would be the former, but feared the latter.

Her
fingers fluttered uselessly about her clothing. What could she do? The talisman
had been broken. Drew might even think she'd broken it herself! No. She could
not bear the thought of that. As her fingers pulled her hair away from her
collar, they brushed something else. The locket! She had almost forgotten it
completely. Encircling it with her fingers, she closed her eyes and called to
Drew as loudly as she could, with her voice and with her heart, all the while
hoping the magick would be able to penetrate through the wards and across the
distance and reach her beloved.

The
image of Aloysius house shimmered and dissolved in the fountain pool. Drew
cursed, turning to Culdun with barely controlled rage, and spat, "She
calls! From beyond my boundaries she calls in need and I stand here
shackled!"

"My
Liege, what about the brooch? Is not the brooch yours?"

"She
no longer has it! And it will take a year to make another!" Drew paced,
looking like a caged animal.

"But,
my Liege, the brooch
belongs
to you."

A
harsh breath hissed through Drew's teeth. Her eyes stared off into night.
Slowly, as if feeling the way around the edges of a room in the dark, Drew took
a step forward and then another.

"My
talisman," she breathed, halting
again. "All beneath my protection —"

"—
belong to you," Culdun finished, adding, "And treasures stolen are
retrievable. If you seek the brooch, will you not find her near?"

"Before
she left us, what did Angelique say?!"

"That
she loved you. That she would return."

"And
that
she was mine!
In open court of this magicked land —you witnessed it
yourself."

Understanding
lit Culdun’s face. "Yes, my Liege, she did!"

"Then
let those wretched wards blind my distant sight. With stallion and sword I'll
fetch her myself."

Thunder
shook the windowpanes though there was no storm near. Lightning clashed and
black clouds rolled in to eclipse the starry sky. A stallion's shriek turned
Phillip's head to the window. He dropped his cup as the lightning cracked again
and he saw the white steed pawing the air. Opening his mouth to speak, he found
he had no words to describe the black-garbed rider whose cape flowed behind
like a river of blood. Lightning flashed a third time and illuminated a naked
blade. Phillip stumbled back from the window.

"Have
you the charms about you?" Marguerite asked blandly, not pausing in the
careful counting of her stitches.

Ivan
chuckled nastily and lifted his stein of ale from the mantelpiece.

The
crash that splintered the door made even Marguerite look up. Wind gusted into
the room, overturning chairs. Marguerite's tapestry frame lifted and she cried
out once as it struck her in the head, then she collapsed to the floor,
motionless. Ivan started toward her. Phillip fled toward the shadows near the
staircase.

Drew
extended one black-gloved hand, fingers spread, and Ivan was thrown backward.
He cowered.

The
wind died. The fire crackled wickedly. Silence descended.

Drew
advanced, pinning Ivan against the wall with the tip of her broadsword inches
from his chest. Ivan lifted his hands in supplication. "I have come for
what is mine." Her voice left no room for argument.

Ivan
forced a smile, lowering his hands to wipe palms cautiously along his thighs.
"My Liege, what am I to say? Angelique feared you too much to confront
you. She begged sanctuary from us."

Drew
did not respond. Ivan licked his lips. There was a long tense silence.
Suddenly, he leapt to the side and away, hands scrabbling for the sword hanging
over the fire. Drew whirled and, seeing his objective, uncoiled like a snake.
Before he could reach it, Drew had sent the sword spinning out of reach.

She
brought the broadsword down on the table he’d tried to put between them,
splitting it neatly in two.

Phillip
screamed.

Ivan
was now pinned between Drew and the hearth. She raised the broadsword again and
leveled it at his chest. "If you try anything so foolish again, I will gut
you like the pig you are. Now, where is she?"