The Sword and the Sylph (Elemental Series) (21 page)

It might have been the stablemaster who killed his father, but it w
as his own dagger that ended the man’s life. He’d told the stablemaster to keep it to protect himself as well as the Lady Christabel. And that is exactly what he did.

He threw the weapon
to the ground and shoved the lock of hair into the pouch at his waist. He couldn’t waste any more precious time thinking about his father. He needed to signal his men that the war was over – something he was looking forward to doing. But the one thing on his mind right now that was more important than anything else was finding Portia. And if anything had happened to her, he’d never forgive himself as long as he lived.

Chapter 23

Braden rode through the gates of Calila, having signaled his men that the war was over. A cheer of praise and relief went up from the crowd that now gathered in the center of the courtyard. His men rushed from the battlements to join him and the villeins slowly wandered out from the shadows and also from inside the castle at hearing that they were now safe.

He looked around him at the devastating results of the senseless battle, shaking his head thinking of the lives lost for naught.

Damn his father for ever coming to Calila in the first place. And damned every one of the Klarens as well for what he’d been through in the last day.

“Lord Braden,” called Juturna rushing
from the armory and across the courtyard to join him. “Is it true, is the battle really over?”

“It is,” he said looking at the wounded men hobbling across the bailey aided by their loved ones and with their frightened children clinging to their sides. Fire still burned in spots from the arrows that had sailed over the castle wall. A dog howled a haunting tone as the darkness of the night settled around them. “Where is Portia, old woman?” he asked the healer.

“I have not seen her since the battle started, my lord.”

“Then use your crystal and scry for me seer. I need to find her anon, and I pray to God she is all right.”

Juturna grabbed at a pouch hanging from her side and brought forth a crystal orb. She rubbed it against her chest and held it up in the moonlight. Then sadly, she shook her head.

“What is it?” asked Braden grabbing her by the arm, feeling his body stiffen in fright. “Is she alive, old woman? God’s eyes, do not tell me that something has happened to her?”

“Take a deep breath and relax, my lord,” Juturna spoke freely. “She is not dead, but close to it.”

“Where is she, Juturna? Tell me already so I can go to her.”

The seer looked into her crystal again, but then shook her head and put it back in her pouch. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“There are too many emotions and distractions around us from the battle. I cannot tell where she is, but I do know the countess had something to do with her disappearance.”

“Then let’s find the countess and she’ll lead us to Portia.”

“That may not be possible, my lord. I saw in my crystal that the countess is dead.”

Frustrated, Braden paced back and forth. He needed to do something to find Portia and if he didn’t do it soon,
she would die.

“We have
to find her,” he said. “There has to be something we can do. We need to start looking anon.”

“Aye, m
y lord. I would gather up the villeins to help us. I would ask them to scour the castle grounds and look for Portia.”

Braden instructed his men to do the same, and those who were not wounded came to his aid. Braden
had never felt so helpless as he did right now.

“If only we could talk to the wind the way Portia does,
” stated the old woman, heading away.

“Wait!” he said, stopping her in her tracks. “I can.”

“What do you mean, my lord?” Juturna looked at him as if he were a shandy fool. “You are not an elemental, so how could you listen to the wind?”

“Portia taught me,” he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “She showed me how, now if I can just remember how to do it.”

He blocked the noise around him from his mind and dismissed the smells of burnt wood and blood. He called to the wind in his mind the way she’d taught him, but nothing seemed to be happening.

“What do you hear, my lord?” asked Juturna.

“Nothing,” he said sadly. “Juturna, I have not the ability to call on the air for aid.” Then he looked up to the moon and let out a roar. “I need your help to save your queen,” he called to the sky. “Help save Portia’s life by telling me where she is right now.”

The wind picked up from the back of the castle, blowing the foul stench of the garderobe over the bailey.

“God’s feet, that smells foul,” he grumbled, feeling more frustrated than ever. The wind whipped his hair around him up into the air and once again he was assaulted by the foul stench of human waste.”

“Let’s start searching the
grounds for Portia,” he told Juturna. “I fear we would have no help from the element that she commands tonight.”

“Where should we start looking first?” asked the old woman.

The breeze blew again, making him want to retch from the awful smell.

“Anywhere that is far away from the garderobes, as the stench is so strong I can hardly breathe.”

Suddenly, his own words made him realize he was getting the answer from the wind he needed after all. He knew Portia needed air to survive and that the countess knew this as well. She would have put Portia somewhere under the ground to try to kill her. At first he thought of the underground cellar, but when the wind whipped through his hair once again and the garderobes’ stench wafted on the breeze he realized the wind was telling him exactly where to find Portia all along.

“This way,” he told Juturna, hurryi
ng across the bailey with her right behind him. “I know exactly where to find her now.”

Braden stopped as soon as he got to the back of the castle, spying the countess lying dead on the ground. There was an arrow stic
king out of her back. He hunkered down to inspect it, realizing what Juturna told him was true indeed. The woman was stone cold dead.

He was getting to his feet when
the breeze blew again and by the light of the moon he saw a vine blow upward revealing that the countess was collapsed over the top of what looked like a metal grate. He hurriedly stood and pulled her dead body aside, seeing a small oubliette that was concealed beneath.

“I found her,” he called to Juturna, getting down on his knees and pulling the grate away. Juturna rushed over a
nd fell to the ground beside him, peering into the dark hole.

“My lord, she is near dead,” said the woman, as Braden hurriedly reached down and pulled her body from the small underground confinement.

“Portia, sweetheart, talk to me.” Braden cradled her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. She was cold and very pale. Her eyes were closed and her head fell back as he lifted her up, getting to his feet.

“She is barely breathing,” announced Juturna, holding her hand first under Portia’s nose and then atop her chest. “Get her to the solar at once and I would try to save her with my healing herbs.”

“Nay,” said Braden, we need to keep her in the air so she can recover. And I know the best place for that.” He looked up to the mountain only hoping he was making the right decision. “Follow me, old woman, as we have a mountain to climb and no time to waste doing it either.”

He headed out with Portia in his arms to find a horse, only hoping to hell they weren’t going to break their necks trying to climb the damned mountain in the dark.

* * *

Portia stirred slightly as she felt the breeze on her face. Her eyelids flickered under the light
caress of something and she opened her eyes to see Braden kissing her first on her eyelids, then her forehead and then her cheek.

Juturna stood over her as well, and she realized it was morning and they were at the very top of the mountain.

“What are you doing?” she asked him with a giggle as he proceeded to kiss her atop the nose.

“Portia, sweetheart, you are all right.
” He took her hands in his and helped her to a sitting position. He looked so tired and worn from battle and she knew he hadn’t slept all night. The last thing she’d remembered was being put in the oubliette by the countess and thinking it was there that she was going to die. Thank the heavens that Braden had found her and thought to bring her to the top of her mountain to be healed.

She heard t
he breeze speak to her then, and couldn’t help but start laughing by the message it relayed.

“The breeze tells me you were t
rying to heal me with your kiss, dear husband. Is this true?”

“Weren’t you the one that said the breeze never lies?” he asked her.

“He kept at it all night, as soon as we’d found you in the oubliette.” Juturna supplied the information.

“You are too funny,” she said reaching up and kissing him upon the lips.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he asked and winked. She’d never felt so lucky or seen anything so beautiful in all her life.

“I am
sure it had naught to do with the fact we brought you into the air atop the mountain, now did it?” asked Juturna.

“Every little bit helps,” Braden said with a smile.

“Is the battle over?” she asked, needing to know what happened.

“It is,” said Braden, but supplied no more information.

“Well, who won?” she questioned him.

“Everyone won
in the end,” he answered.

“I don’t understand.”

“If I may explain, my lord?” asked Juturna.

“Aye, by all means,” he said,
obviously too tired to try to relay the information. Still, he could not stop smiling or kissing her either.

“Sir Braden – Lord Braden, I mean
, was able to save many lives by doing the right thing,” announced Juturna. “He talked to Lord Solomon and both sides withdrew.”

“Withdrew?” she asked. “Even the Klarens?”

“Nay,” Braden broke in. “They left after the death of my father when they realized they had no chance of winning.”

“Did you . . . kill him Braden?” She hated to ask, but had to know.

“Yes and no,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling her up next to him. “Now no more time for questions, as there are many wounded that need to be attended to. And as soon as you’re feeling strong enough, I need to ask if you’ll use your kiss to heal some wounds of my men as well as Lord Solomon’s men too.”

“Of course,” she said with a nod. “That’s the least I can do, and ’twill be a good move to insu
re we remain allies with Banesmoor from now on.”

“And then we have the dead to bury,” he told her, a shadow washing across his face as his smile faded
. “Portia, I need to ask you want you want done with the body of your father?”

She thought for a moment before she answered.
“I think I would like to scatter his ashes atop the mountain, the same as you were doing the first day I saw you.”

“Done,” he said
rubbing something between his fingers and sticking it into his pouch.

“What is that, Braden?” she asked, noticing it looked like a lock of hair.

“’Tis what’s left of my mother, ” he told her. “I would like to burn it and scatter it atop the mountain as well if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” she agreed, “but what about the remains of your father?”

“Portia, I don’t want to scatter any more evilness atop your mountain. And though I have a lot to tell you about what I found out this last day, it still does not change the pain and hurtful emotions I’ve harbored for all these years. While my father may have had a spark of good in his black heart after all, he was a coward, being unable to show it.”

“What are you saying,” she asked.

“What I am saying is that I want you to always remind me who I really am.” He pushed his arm forward to show her the etching of the snakes on his arm.

“You mean . . . that you are the son of a Klaren?”

“Nay. I mean that this emblem on my arm would always remind me not to be like my father. I intend to be true to my feelings from this day on, and tell you and someday our children as well, that I love you, every single day.”

“You’ve already told me that many times before,” she told him. “And I love you, too, Braden. You have always been true with your feelings
, don’t ever think that you have not.”

“Nay, that is not true
. I have done what I thought would make others accept and respect me. I agreed to marry a woman I did not want nor love. I also allowed myself to be branded because I was trying to pretend I was someone I was not.

I no longer care a
bout trying to impress anyone. I am who I am, and I would no longer be ashamed for anyone to know I was once a Klaren, though only for a day. I’ve learned so much these past few days, but the thing I’ve learned most is not to let the ones you love slip away.”