Son of the Shadows (60 page)

"I know I have your support and the support of our allies," Sean went on, keeping his tone strong and confident. "We will all grieve for this loss and may find it hard to set our hands to our tasks, whether it be die harvest or the work of the house or the bearing of arms. But my uncle would want us to go on, to keep the defenses strong, to protect the forest and its dwellers as our family was bound to do long ago, and to pursue our quest to regain what the Britons took from us. The campaign will be set back, but not forever. We will rally and recover. We cannot mourn Lord Liam as we would wish; we cannot send him on his way with the ceremony such a leader deserves, for these are difficult times, and the news of this act of treachery is best kept within our own community for now. For this reason we will bear his body home quietly to lie within these walls for a day and a night, and we will bury him under die oaks. In time, there will be due ritual to remember his name and to bid him a fitting farewell. But for now, hold his image in your hearts and minds, and keep your mouths shut. Is this understood?"

"Yes, my lord." Many voices spoke as one, and when they had taken time to express their shock and their grief, and to offer their respect and sorrow to my brother and me, every one of them went immediately back to work. The harvest resumed; women busied themselves with drying and preserving fruit, or airing linen, and Felan rode straight back out with three men clad in dark clothes, and an extra horse.

My brother had started well. Before the folk of the household he had kept his voice steady and his manner a creditable imitation of Liam's own, firmly authoritative. But later, after they had brought our uncle's body back and we had prepared him for burial and laid him to rest in the hall, surrounded by

Page 232

candles, that was a different matter. Downstairs, folk came in to walk past the still form of their fallen lord, to observe his stern features little softened by the sleep of death. His body was scarcely marked.

Whoever had loosed this arrow had been skilled at his work. Liam's wolfhounds would not leave their master; they lay, one at his head and one at his feet, strangely silent as man or woman filed past, ashen faced, to mutter, "Go in peace, my lord," or "Safe journey, Lord Liam."

"Who'd have thought it?" Janis had said, grimly, as she poured ale for the household and scrubbed her cheeks furtively with the back of her hand. "First Sorcha and then him, scarce a season after. It's not right. Something's not right. When's the Big Man coming home?"

Johnny was with the nursemaid, and Sean and I sat together in the private room upstairs, where Niamh had tried to defy the men of the family and had been crushed. Sean was very quiet; and when I looked over at him I saw that at last, after his long day of control, he was weeping.

"I'm sorry," I said inadequately. "He was like a father to you, I know that. You've done well today, Sean.

He would be proud of you."

"You should have told me before. You should have warned me or warned him. You could have prevented this, Liadan." His tone was ragged with grief, and his words hurt me deeply. "Why would you choose not to stop it? Is there some conspiracy here I cannot understand? For someone betrayed him to the Britons. Someone told them where he would be, and when, and that he would be alone."

"Stop it, Sean." My own voice was less than steady. "This is nonsense, and you know it."

"Nonsense, is it? Then tell me this. Who knew of the meeting to which Liam rode save our own allies and the Painted Man? He was given this knowledge for precisely the opposite purpose—to make sure the attention of Northwoods was diverted from the real location and intent of this council. But he was ideally placed to pass the information straight to the Britons. How can I not believe, now, that my faith in your friend has been completely misplaced? This murder surely reveals that he is no more than the trickster his reputation paints, a man who will change his allegiance at any time it suits him. My own ill-judged trust of this man has killed my uncle."

"Why would Bran do such a thing?"

Sean's lip curled. "Perhaps Edwin of Northwoods pays better than I do. The chance to remove my uncle from the picture, and at the same time to disrupt our negotiations with the Ui Neill, would have commanded a good price, I should think."

"Bran would not do that, Sean. His mission was for you. He spoke of you with nothing but respect. This is not his doing, I am sure of it."

"Such a man cannot be trusted." Sean spoke dismissively. "I was a fool to do as I did, and you were even more of a fool to be taken in by his fine words. Now our uncle is dead and the alliance in real danger. Don't you realize this could set our campaign back by years? You bear a portion of the blame for this, Liadan. I cannot believe you chose not to tell me."

I sat silent as his words fell on me like an evil rain. What Janis had said had been all too true. It wasn't right. None of it was right.

"I want Aisling," Sean said abruptly, his voice cracking as it escaped his efforts at control. "I need Aisling here. But she does not answer my messages, and I cannot ride to fetch her; I cannot leave Sevenwaters until our people recover from this blow. What did your vision show you, Liadan? What was the danger for Aisling?"

But I would not answer him, for he had hurt me too deeply.

"Liadan. Tell me."

"I won't. And I will not defend myself, except to say that you speak out of your grief, and your words wound me, for I, too, feel Liam's loss. I, too, loved him, and relied upon his strength. I should not need to tell you that the Sight does not always show true images of what is to come.

Page 233

If I offered a warning every time, I would create such upheaval we could scarcely live our daily lives, for we'd be always looking over our shoulders. And you are wrong about Bran. He is a trustworthy man and could not have done this. He values his friendship with me, and he would not injure his son by betraying our family to the enemy.

Whoever let slip this secret, it was not the Painted Man."

"Your faith in him defies logic. It is based, perhaps, more on the desires of the body than on anything resembling common sense. You'd have done better to marry Eamonn, who could have provided some stability for you, than ally yourself to an outlaw who clearly has no respect for you or his child."

"I would never have married Eamonn. I expect I will never marry anyone. As for your arguments, you should stop laying blame without evidence and look at your security, for it does appear there is a weak link somewhere. I don't deny the fact that someone has betrayed a secret, and that this has caused our uncle's death. But it was not Bran, I know this, Sean, and you must believe me. You must look elsewhere for your informant."

"Liadan." His voice had gone quiet, as our father's sometimes did.

"What?" I asked wearily.

"Would you do something for me?"

Brighid save us. What did the boy expect, after venting his bitterness on me and turning my heart cold with his ill-chosen words of reproach?

"What is it?"

"I cannot go to Aisling. And when I send messengers to her brother, they are refused admittance.

Eamonn will not speak with them. But he would not refuse you. You could make him listen. Will you go to Sidhe Dubh and talk to him? Will you see Aisling for me, and try to bring her back here?"

My heart quailed. "I don't think—"

"You could make amends thus," said my brother.

"There are no amends to be made," I snapped. "And Eamonn is the last person I want to see right now. I

have no wish to go to Sidhe Dubh ever again, Sean. There is—there is ill feeling between Eamonn and myself. This would be very difficult for me. Besides, I, too, am needed here.

People rely on me. And what about Johnny?"

"Please, Liadan." For a moment he sounded just like Niamh, the way she used to wheedle a favor out of me.

"I don't know. You seem to have lost your confidence in my judgment and your own. Perhaps you should send somebody else. If you believe Bran would turn against you so readily, why would I not do the same?"

"You still have faith in him, then." His tone was flat.

"He would not betray you thus, Sean. To do so would be to fail at his mission. If he has not returned, it must be because—because—" There was a flash of the Sight, and it was dark, it was so dark that at first

I could not tell which way was up and which was down, and whether the walls were out there or close around me, holding me cramped up with my knees under my chin and my arms bent over my head. I

tried to move and the walls were right there, so tight, so small; and it was stifling, and I could not breathe.

I must make no sound, not a single whimper, or when they let me out, they would make me pay.

So the voice screamed out silently inside my head, as my tears fell hot and fierce down my cheeks, and my nose ran, and I could not even sniff for fear they would hear me.

Page 234

Where are you? Why did you let go

?

"Liadan," said Sean softly. "Liadan!" and I came back to myself, shivering. "You're crying," he said.

"I did not ask for the gift of the Sight," I told him shakily. "Believe me, I would give anything to have known I might prevent Liam's death. But that's not the way it works. I might have warned him, and he might have taken a different path and still have died. There's no way of knowing."

Sean nodded gravely. "I'm sorry. It is hard not to blame you. I do wonder, sometimes, if your alliance with the Painted Man has warped your judgment."

I sighed. "You are anxious about Aisling, and with good cause. I feel the same about Bran. It seems to be hard for you to understand, that I could love as you do."

"You could, perhaps, have chosen more wisely. That man can never be Part of Sevenwaters. He is—feral."

"I know that, but my choice is made. Now you have sent him into great danger, for your own reasons, and you have accused him of treachery and me of weakness. And you ask me a favor."

There was a pause.

"You know what you saw. Was your vision of Aisling such that you believe her to be in immediate danger?"

I nodded reluctantly.

Sean was very pale. "I can't go there, Liadan. My people need me. Please do this, for me and for her.

Eamonn will not refuse you; he could not refuse you anything. I'll provide a strong escort for you; you could leave in the morning. Take Johnny with you, and your nursemaid, if you like."

"I'll think about it," I told him, my heart going cold at the prospect of the fortress walls of Sidhe Dubh closing about me again and colder at the thought of asking Eamonn for anything at all. "It won't be tomorrow. I can't get Johnny ready in time."

"It needs to be soon."

"I know."

As I rose to retire to my bedchamber, he used the voice of the mind.

I'm sorry, Liadan. Liam was right. I'm not ready for this. But I must do it. I must shut this inside and be strong for them all. You are my sister, and I will always be here for you, whatever choices you make

.

I know that

. I turned back, but he was not looking at me. He sat bent forward, and his head was in his hands.

You will be a strong and wise leader, Sean. Tour children, and Aisling's, will fill these halls with laughter again

.

With those words, I was committed to do as he asked. But I feared to make this journey. I had thought I

was afraid of little; but I recognized that I was afraid of Eamonn, and of his strange home in the marshes, and of the half-seen visions of evil things taking place within its stone walls. I would far rather have stayed at home with Johnny, helping the women in the kitchens, taking linctus to the ailing cottagers, secure in the heart of the forest. The Fair Folk had warned me. Conor had warned me. It was dangerous to leave.

It was not Sean's anxiety that finally persuaded me but something far more terrifying. The moon was starting to wane, and tonight its light was veiled by heavy clouds. A strong southeasterly wind sent the sound of bending branches and rustling leaves into my quiet chamber as I
Page 235

prepared for bed. It was very late. The nursemaid had gone to her own rest and left Johnny with me, tucked up fast asleep under his multicolored blanket.

When he woke to feed, I would take him into my own bed, for his small, warm presence was a welcome barrier against the evil thoughts that now threatened to overwhelm me. Fiacha was perched on the back of a chair, and whether he slept or woke there was no telling. I must be strong, I told myself, as I held a taper in the embers of the fire and went to light my special candle. Very strong, for others depended on that strength to keep them safe.

The candle flickered and went out. I put my hand around the wick to shield it from the draft, and held the taper close again. The wick flared briefly and died. A feeling like the touch of a cold hand went down the back of my neck. Very deliberately, I lifted the candle in its holder and moved away from the window to place it on the oaken chest by the bed. Strange shadows from the lighted taper danced across the walls.

Here there was no draft. But the patterned candle would not light. I checked the wick and tried again, and again, as a terrible fear began to take hold of me. The wick was clear; the taper burned steadily right beside it. But as soon as I moved my hand away, the candle flame guttered and died. I told myself I was being foolish, simply willing it to happen in my panic. I took a deep breath and tried again. I sat there a long time, trying and trying to make it burn, until my hands were shaking and my vision blurred with my efforts. It was dark outside; thick clouds still blanketed the moon. And I could not will the small candle to life. Tonight, this light would not shine out in the darkness.

I sat shivering on my bed with a blanket around my shoulders, but I did not sleep, not at all that night.

Johnny woke twice, and I held him and fed him and welcomed his company. But tonight, now, I wanted the Sight and it would not come. I could not even hear that child, screaming in the dark.