Soul Magic (22 page)

“We grow closer to the coast.”

“Aye, although we still have a hour or more to ride before we reach the edge of the land.”  Darrick turned his attention to the ribbon of road stretching out like a snake before them.  “There is no sign that any have traveled here recently. Especially a small army.”

“We will have to rest.” 

Geoffrey nodded his agreement.  “I don’t see we have a choice.”

Alanna made a sound of protest.  “Surely we can ride a few more hours.  `Tis barely dusk.”
              Though he hated to disappoint her, Darrick shook his head.  “To push the horses any further would be foolish.  We cannot afford to lose one of them.”

With a reluctant nod, she gave in. 

For the next few moments, Darrick kept busy helping his men set up camp.   When nothing remained to be done, he took first watch.  While he knew his reluctance to speak to Alanna might be cowardly, he was not yet sure he wanted to learn the truth either.

He might have a son.  A boy of nearly five summers whom he’d not ever even seen.

An hour passed, then another.  When the man finally appeared to relieve him, apologizing for having overslept, Darrick waved his words away and left him at his post. 

Stretching out the aches in his leg and back, Darrick headed for Alanna’s tent.  There could be no more delay.  He must know the truth, no matter how badly it might hurt him.  Or her.

Stooping to enter, Darrick paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim interior.  Though Ellette slumbered peacefully, Alanna raised herself on her elbows and watched him.  Awake.  She made a soft gasp of surprise at his entrance. 

“I would speak with you.” 

At his whispered request, she nodded.  Rising gracefully, she pushed past him through the tent flap.  Outside, she turned to face him, arms crossed.

“Well?”

“Not here.”  He glanced at his own tent, a few paces away.  “Will you come with me?”

“I cannot leave the child.”

“Get Sarina to watch her.”

With a mocking smile, Alanna shook her head.  “She sleeps with your Geoffrey.”

“Does she?”  He shrugged, glad his friend had finally come to his senses.  “No matter.  She can still stay with the child for a few minutes while you and I talk.”

As though she’d heard them, Sarina popped her head out of another tent.  Her dark hair was tousled, and she smiled the sated smile of a cream-fed cat. 

“Did you call for me?”

“No.” Alanna said.

“Yes.”  Darrick spoke at the same time.  He took Alanna’s arm, wincing inwardly as she flinched.  “Alanna and I need to speak privately.  The child cannot be left alone.”

Sarina’s gaze narrowed.  “I do not want my cousin hurt.”

“Sarina,” Alanna warned.  “Darrick would never hurt me.”  Once she’d spoken, surprise flickered across her face, then acceptance. 

“Thank you.”  Relieved that at least she recognized this simple truth, he turned to Sarina.  “Alanna speaks true.  Never would I cause her pain.”

“Knowingly.”  A challenge rang in Sarina’s voice. 

“Or otherwise.”  He then softened his tone.  “I wish to speak to her about her son.”

Alanna jumped.  Sarina gave him a look of startled bemusement, then smiled.  “Go.”  Grin widening, she waved her hand.  “Though I have thought to keep you two apart, I want Alanna’s happiness above all else.  I will guard Ellette.”

Alanna compressed her lips but said nothing, though twin spots of color appeared high on her cheeks.  She allowed him to lead her to his tent, picking her way carefully over the rock-strewn ground. 

Once inside, she rounded on him.  “You delay overmuch.  Do you not worry for your mother?  I fear for my son.”

Knowing she attacked out of desperation, Darrick ignored her outburst.  “Caradoc is the reason we must talk.”

Her outraged expression changed to panic.  “What of him?  Have you received word?”

“Relax.”  He fought the urge to kiss her frown away.  “`Tis nothing like that.  Please, sit.”

With her reluctance plain, she lowered herself to a pile of furs.  Carefully keeping a small distance between them, Darrick did the same.

“I am at a loss how to begin--”

She drummed her fingers on her knee.  “You have long had a blunt nature.  I do not believe that has changed.”

“Very well.”  Closing his eyes for a moment, he inhaled her light floral scent.  How she managed to keep this, even in the dead of winter, he could not say. 

When he looked at her again, she glared impatiently.  “Go on.”

Fine. 

“Is Caradoc my son?”

Her mouth dropped open.  Snapping it closed, she shook her head so hard her hair whipped around her.  “I have told you, Caradoc is Morfran’s.”

“Yes, you have.  But how do you know for certain?  Do you not remember the night that we--”

“I have not forgotten.”  In her agitation, her chest rose and fell, drawing his gaze. 

“The night we made love.”  Deliberately, he finished.  How he wished she would let him clasp her hand in his.  He kept his hands in his lap.

“Morfran is Caradoc’s sire.” 

“There was but a few night’s difference.”  Though he knew his words would hurt her, he had to say them. 

She blanched but, to her credit, did not look away.  “Darrick, do not do this to yourself.  Please.  Nothing can be served by this.”

“Nothing can be served?”  He roared the words then, remembering others slept, lowered his voice.  “If he is my son, I have the right to know.”

A single tear made a silver path down her cheek.  Still, her gaze was steady.  “Caradoc was marked as Morfran’s from the moment he was born.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“His hair is the same copper color, Darrick.”  The tears came in earnest now as she silently cried.  “And my powers did not increase one he was born, as they would have if the legend speaks true.”

“Copper color?  You mean Caradoc’s hair is the color of flame?”

“Aye.  As is Morfran’s.  Not yours.  Now tell me again you still think Caradoc could be your son.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Oddly enough, her words made him want to laugh.  “That is all?  The color of the boy’s hair is all the confirmation you required?”

“That and the legend.”

“No one truly knows what the puzzle means.  You have no proof, not really.”

“What more do I need?”  Wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, her lips trembled.  “You have always had dark hair, Darrick.  I am blond.  A child of ours would have one or the other.  But not red.”

“Is his hair still the same?”  Though he asked softly, Darrick watched her like a hawk.  Now that he understood her reasoning, he could not fault her for her error.

“No,” she admitted.  “It has begun to darken.  Brown has begun to taint the copper.”

“So it was with me.”  Though he smiled, he felt as though his heart might crack open.  “I was born with fiery hair, much the same as your son.  Not until I had five summers did the color begin to turn.”

“I knew you then.”  With suspicion she peered at him.  “And I would remember if you had red hair.”

“Would you?”  His smile widened.  “I think you were more intent on that pet fawn of yours.”

When she continued only to silently watch him, he let his smile fade. 

“He could be my son.”

“Darrick--”

“Why else would Gorsedd want him?  Certainly not because he’s Morfran’s.  How else can you explain the power Gorsedd has been able to harness?  Or the very real danger Caradoc might be in if he uses his power too early?”

“Danger?”  Leaping to her feet, she faced him, her eyes blazing.  “What news have you?”

Damn. He hadn’t meant to tell her this way, if at all.

“Goddess’s bones, Darrick.  If something else threatens my son, you’d damn well better tell me.  Now.”

He held up his hand.  “Since he has been taken, you have known of the threat to him.”

“Aye, but you speak like something else has entered the battle.  If that is the case, you’d better tell me.”

“No new threat – at least that I know of.  Wynne came to me.  She spoke of Caradoc’s power, Gorsedd’s abuse of it, and the real and immediate danger to your soon.”

“Wynne knew this and did not tell me?”  Her wounded look of betrayal made him want to take her in his arms.  Then, despite her aversion to his touch, he did.  He was not surprised when she pushed him away. 

“How does she know my son has power?  And how can she be certain that Gorsedd has begun to abuse it?”

“Wynne said she had only learned of it.”

“How?”

“I do not know.”

“But she came to you, rather than me.”  Eyes full of a dark, terrible anger, she strode to the entrance, rounding on him.  “I’ve must go.”

“Wait--”

“I need to be alone.  If what you say is true, then  time runs more quickly than I thought.”  Her expression grim, she shook her head.  “I’ve got to think.  I must find a way to help my son.”

In three steps he crossed the room to her, half expecting her to run.  She stood her ground.  When he touched her arm, she met his gaze without flinching, her expression unreadable.

“Alanna, he’s my son too.”

Her mouth worked, her face contorting.  “You can’t know that.”

“But I do.”  He drew her close.  “And you do too, even if you can’t yet admit it.  Come, I have the fruit you wanted so badly.  Share it with me.”

“Fruit?”  She sounded offended.  “You wish to eat fruit now?  How can that help?”

“How can it hurt?”  He made himself turn away, as though he cared little whether she stayed or went.  “We can do nothing until we’ve rested.  You said you need to think.  Take nourishment while you do so.  It may help.”

Plucking the bag of fruit he’d purchased earlier from the ground, he untied the string and opened the cloth.  He selected an apple, marveling at the large size of the fruit, along with its ruby red color.  Though he never ate raw fruit, he knew the Fae did not cook it as humans did.

Taking a bite, he chewed slowly, letting the sweet flavor fill his mouth. 

“Have some.”  He held the apple out to her.  “It’s good.”

She bit her lip and looked away.

He ate some more, watching her while chewed. 

“Darrick.”  Meeting his gaze, she gave him a sad, weary smile.  “I must go now.  Truly do I need a moment alone.  Then I must talk to Sarina and try to summon Wynne.”

Chest tight, he inclined his head.  “We will speak more of this on the morrow.”

“Mayhap.”

This time, when she marched off, he did not follow.  Instead, he lay down on his furs, apple forgotten, and tried to picture the face of the boy who might be his son.

A short while later he came awake with a start.  Had he been dreaming, or had he heard the sound of hoof-beats?

Pushing himself up, he rubbed his eyes as the world swayed and wavered.  Not enough sleep.  He made his way outside, scanning the small camp for any signs of danger.

He saw none.  A quick glance at the horses showed all were accounted for, save two.  Alanna and her cousin’s white palfreys were missing.

“Geoffrey.” 

The other man appeared instantly at Darrick’s summons.

“Where are the women?”

A quick glance around and Geoffrey too understood the situation.  He cursed.

“What in the name of--”

“Who knows?  We must find them.  They can’t have been gone long.  Come.”

Because it would take too long to fetch saddles, Darrick and Geoffrey rode their warhorses bareback, carefully searching for any trail the women might have left.  The ground was hard and grassy, with stones and packed dirt.  They’d left no tracks, yet some instinct told Darrick which way to go.

Across one particularly rocky field, a huge pile of stones appeared to have been haphazardly placed.  They headed there.  The closer they drew, the more it became clear that this place was some sort of makeshift temple. 

Darrick motioned to Geoffrey and they dismounted, leading the horses to approach on foot. 

They heard voices.  Three.  Alanna, Sarina, and Wynne.  Surprised, Darrick moved closer.

Inside, Alanna and Sarina spoke to thin air.