Soul Magic (7 page)

             
“I am not most women.”  She shot him a glare.  With her harsh words, she too had reverted to the woman Geoffrey knew and disliked.  She continued to glare at him as she asked her next question.  “Have you a horse I might use?”

             
Geoffrey glanced from her to Darrick and back again.    “She is unchaperoned,” he said finally, seizing on the excuse with desperation.  “She cannot ride with us,

without some sort of companion.”

              “We can get someone from the village.” Another man piped up.  “Assuming we can find a woman willing.”

             
“And one who could keep up with us.”  One of those chosen to go, Bart glowered at Geoffrey.  “You know well there is no one like that near here.”

             
Ever since Darrick’s father had been killed and Morfran had occupied Thorncliff, most of the farms and cottages in the fields nearby had been abandoned.  Geoffrey knew Darrick meant to find out whether this had been voluntary, or some punishment Morfran had meted out.  All that remained were the elderly or the infirm.

             
“A chaperone?”  Alanna sounded disbelieving.

             
With a stubborn glare, Geoffrey nodded.  “Aye.  Unless you want to be mistaken for another kind of woman.”

             
The insult, though indirect, hung in the air. 

             
Instead of taking offense, Alanna straightened her shoulders and gave a regal nod.  “I will provide my own chaperone,” she said.  “One of my own women from my home travels this way even now.”

Geoffrey shared a skeptical look with his men.  “You do not have time.  We leave this night.  Now.”

She lifted her chin.  “She is already on her way.”

He scratched his head.  “By what means?”

“Magic.”  Alanna did not smile as she said the word.  No doubt she knew none would believe her.  A chill ran down Geoffrey’s spine.

Most of the other men laughed.  But Geoffrey crossed himself, his expression hard. 

Darrick cursed.  “Enough of this.  How long until your woman arrives?”

“How would she know?”  Geoffrey spread his hands.  “She has no way of knowing.”

The other two ignored him.  “Her arrival should be within minutes.”

“Good.”  Darrick raised his voice.  “Alanna’s woman will arrive momentarily.”

“We have no time,” Geoffrey protested. 

Alanna glared at him again.  “As I said, my cousin Sarina should be here any moment.”

Geoffrey wondered if she meant to conjure the woman from the night air.  He’d met Sarina once.  Vaguely, he remembered her cousin as a gangly young woman, all legs and elbows.  Hell of a chaperone.

Some of the men looked dubious, a couple eyed Alanna with suspicion.  Geoffrey tugged at his ear, a nervous habit he’d been, despite numerous attempts, unable to defeat.

They all waited, as though they expected her woman to appear in front of them.  No one spoke.  Darrick and Alanna avoided the other’s gaze, a fact which gladdened Geoffrey’s heart.  Now the woman would be proved a liar.

“Does she ride alone?” Bart finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Listen.”  She gestured at the broken wall. 

They all did as she asked. 

Geoffrey heard nothing, save the steady thump of his heart.  Into this quiet came the clip-clop of hoof beats outside the ruined wall.

“Is anyone there?” a feminine voice called from outside the keep.  “Alanna, where are you?  Where is everyone?”

Darrick sighed.  “Sarina.  Last we saw her she was still a gangly teen.”

A moment later she rode around the corner and Geoffrey saw that little Sarina had grown up.  A cloud of unbound hair the color of raven’s wings floated behind her, kept in place only by a circlet of polished silver.  With her heart-shaped face and delicate bone structure, she bore a remarkable resemblance to Alanna, though her eyes were brilliant blue rather than green.  Both women had the same rare, haunting beauty that stopped men cold.

All of his men, including Geoffrey himself, stared in open-mouthed awe. 

Prancing, Sarina’s mount seem to glide up to them.  A second, rider-less horse, tethered by a single, shimmering rope, trailed behind.  Both snowy white palfreys were so alike they had to be twins.

Such a well-matched pair would cost the earth. “Welcome.”   Still unsmiling, Alanna greeted her cousin with a regal nod.  Then she turned to Darrick. 

“May we go now?” she asked.  Her gaze slid to Geoffrey, who narrowed his eyes.  “I have my chaperone.”

Why did no one ask how the woman had managed to reach them, riding alone and unprotected?  Geoffrey looked to Darrick, who had not yet given her full leave to go with them.  His leader had never been one to give in easily, especially not since they’d gone to fight the holy war.  But to Geoffrey’s dismay and disbelief, Darrick simply nodded once more.  He waved his arm, encompassing them all, even the women.

             
“Let’s go.  We ride for Morfran’s keep, to regain my lady mother and this woman’s son.” 

CHAPTER FOUR

Shortly before dawn, they arrived at Morfran’s keep. After riding straight through the night exhaustion showed both in the weary men’s faces and the labored breathing of their lathered mounts.

Reining to a halt, they stared in silence at the stone monstrosity that was Morfran’s keep.  In all her travels in both Rune and earth, Alanna had never seen such a forbidding place.  Morfran’s keep made even Thorncliff look cozy.  It might have been the starkness of the roughly chiseled rock from which it was constructed, or the neglected and dead fields which surrounded the place. 

She inhaled deeply, wrinkling her nose.  Even the gentle silver light of the moon did not soften the harshness of the place.  Evil radiated from the structure.  Malevolence and foul darkness; the fortress was the embodiment of all that could be corrupted in men.

She shivered.  She’d always had a fertile imagination.  Striving to remain calm, she pushed away thoughts of her little boy’s certain terror at being held captive in such an unclean place.  Catching her breath, her heart thudding hard in her chest, she studied the keep with as dispassionate an eye as she could manage.

Wickedness.  Abuse.  She took a shuddering breath.  The sense of evil emanating from mere rock put her so off-balance she swayed on her horse’s back. 

Magic?  Couldn’t be.  Perhaps the sense of
wrongness
came from the air of utter decay which permeated the immediate area surrounding this bleak and dark keep.  Twisted trees raised blackened, skeletal limbs skyward, a portrait of haunting supplication.  Around them, the earth bled, ash-filled sores a testament to suffering.  The untended fields had been burnt to mere stubble.   As though someone, trying without success to cleanse this blight from the earth, had used fire and wind and rain as their weapons.

Again she thought of magic.  Only magic, the kind of sorcery the Fae had been capable in decades past, could have caused such destruction.

Taking care to hide her apprehension, Alanna glanced at the others.  Darrick studied the fortress, his lips pressed together, his strong brow knitted in a frown.  Noticing her interest, Geoffrey glared at her before riding to Darrick’s side. 

“No guards are posted at the gates.”

“Aye.”  Darrick continued to frown.  “Something has gone greatly amiss.”

Sarina maneuvered her horse closer to Alanna.  She spoke low, so as not to be overheard.  “Foulness travels the air of this place.”

“Aye.  Though I cannot determine the source.  Lend me your hand.”

Without hesitation Sarina did as requested.  Then, grasping her cousin’s fingers, Alanna used their combined strength to try and magically probe within the stone walls.  Still feeble, she was unable to penetrate them.

“The place looks abandoned,” Bart mused, scratching his beard.  “Empty.”

Sarina and Alanna exchanged a glance. 

“Caradoc?”  Sarina asked.

Shaking her head wildly, Alanna felt panic rise like bile in her throat.  “Bart is right.  No one is here.”  She swallowed, gripping her hands together to keep them from trembling.  “My son is not here.  Nor your mother.”

“Find her.”  Darrick demanded.  “And her tormentor.”

“I sense no one.”  Alanna shook her head, concentrating on keeping her voice level.  “The keep is abandoned.”

Even Sarina fell uncharacteristically silent, though her grip on Alanna’s hand tightened.

The horses pawed the earth and shifted on their tired legs.  Everyone stared at the imposing walls of Morfran’s dark keep.

Caradoc
.  She pictured him crying, his beloved, small, freckled face contorted in terror.

No.  She would not have it.

“I’m going in.”  Using her heels, Alanna urged her horse forward. The normally cooperative mare shied sideways, trying to unseat her.  Only Sarina with her unwavering hold of Alanna’s hand kept her on her mount.

“Sarina!”  Alanna jerked away.  “Let me go.”

“Nay, cousin.  Don’t be foolish.  Your horse knows what you won’t admit.  Do you not sense the magic that wards this place?”  Though agitated, Sarina continued to speak in a low voice, meant for Alanna’s ears alone.  She pointed, and her normally graceful hand shook.              “Look.  Open your eyes and really see.”

With an effort, Alanna subdued the urge to rush blindly forward.  She took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled.  With her eyes half-closed she took another look at Morfran’s keep.  This time, she
saw
the dark energy that surrounded the stone fortress, wrapping it like a shadowy shroud.  A dark ward, a spell.  This explained why her magical search had been unable to penetrate the rough stone.

Mayhap the keep wasn’t abandoned at all.

“`Tis a shield,” Sarina mused.  “Some sort of enchanted protection, though against what I cannot say.”

“Made by one of our own kind.”  Condemnation made Alanna’s voice flat.  “Gorsedd.”

“But how?  No one has enough magic to do this.” 

Grimly, Alanna assessed the dark, pulsating mass.  “I know not.  Even Wynne’s magic deserts her of late, and she is the most powerful of us all.”

Their whispering was garnering black looks from Geoffrey and curious stares from the other men.  Only Darrick seemed oblivious, continuing his intent study of the keep.

“That one annoys me.”  Sarina flashed Geoffrey a smile that made him look away.  “He does not trust us.”

“He never has.”  Alanna had no time for the man nor his games.  “That ward – Gorsedd could not have done it alone.  It would take two or more to generate such magical power.”

With a shrug, Sarina concurred.  “Mayhap there are more who ally with Gorsedd.  Once, his line was considered for the throne.”

Her heart in her throat, Alanna wanted to weep.  She cared naught for any of that.  While she wanted Rowena safe, her arms ached for Caradoc.  She wanted her son.

“So Gorsedd does not work alone.”  Her anger threatened to boil over.  “Who else?  And why?”

Since Sarina had no answers, she only lifted her brow.

At that moment, Alanna wished more than anything for power.  Never in her life, even as heir to the throne of Rune, had she been one to crave power and all its attendant gratification.  But now, with her little boy missing and a great darkness shadowing the place he’d been taken, she wanted enough power to bring Caradoc to her, then level the place with a wave of her hand.

Geoffrey shot them another dark look before leaning close to Darrick and speaking in a low murmur.  After a moment, Darrick tore his gaze away from Morfran’s keep and nodded.

“Let’s go.”  Geoffrey barked the order, motioning the rest of the men forward.  They went forward eagerly.  None of the men seemed to sense the wards.   Would they repel humans, or were they just meant for Fae?

The sky continued to lighten.  Where earlier, black had become gray, now the pale pink tinge that heralded the rising sun lit the horizon.  Though the breeze still carried a sharp chill, the color of the rose sky promised a warmer than usual day.

The first man crossed the bridge.  Dismounting, he yanked on the gate.  It swung open with a loud creak.  The others, clustered behind him, gave a low cheer.

Too easy.  

“Listen,” Sarina hissed. “What do you hear?” 

Alanna tilted her head.  “Nothing.”   Ominous, the utter absence of sound foretold danger. No dogs barked, no birds sang.  Except for the occasional jangle of one of their own horses’ harnesses, the air was unnaturally still.