The Sword and the Sylph (Elemental Series) (7 page)

Bravely, she called to the element of air to be at her side, placing her one hand on his chest and the other on the shaft of the arrow. Then she took a deep breath and yanked the arrow from his body. She heard his muffled cry of pain and then silence. She looked
to his face and his eyes were closed. She looked back to his chest, but he no longer breathed.

She thought again of Sir Braden and how he’d sworn she’d healed him with her kiss, tho
ugh she couldn’t recall doing anything of the sort – at least not while in her physical form. Then, calling on her mother in her mind, she slowly lowered her mouth to her father’s wound and willed life essence into him as she placed a kiss upon his chest.

Vance ran up to her then, falling on his knees to join her. “My Lady Portia, is he . . . is he dead?” asked the stablemaster.

Portia wasn’t sure, and looked to her father, once again willing the life force back into his body. Perhaps she’d forgotten how to heal with a kiss after all this time. Or mayhap she truly did lose this power the day she’d lost her mother after all.

“I don’t know,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

Then the most wonderful thing happened. Her father gasped, filling his lungs with air and before her very eyes the wound closed and healed itself.

“He lives,” she said with a smile. Then bent down and gave her father a quick hug. He opened his eyes and tried to smile
back at her.

“How did you do that?” asked Vance in awe.

“It does not matter,” she told the man. “Now get on your horse and ride down the mountain and find a healer, quickly.”

“But we have a healer right here in Calila,” the man reminded her.

“Nay, I don’t trust that our healer has the best intentions for my father. Go instead to Manterra. Ask them to send their healer to aid my father at once.”

“Manterra?” asked Vance. “Why there and not another village?”

She remembered Sir Braden had said he was from Manterra, and that he’d also mentioned her fae friend, Rae being married to the duke.

“Just go and ask no questions. Tell the lady of the castle that Po
rtia-Maer has sent you for help in healing her father.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said, getting to his feet. Portia could see the doubt on his face at her orders and was not even sure he’d comply.

“Vance,” she called after him as he walked away. “I trust you’ll carry out my orders. Because if you don’t, I would be forced to tell the countess that your loyalty lies with the enemy instead of with her.”

“What do you mean by that my lady?
My loyalty lies with Calila.”

“You cannot hide your intentions from me,” she answered.

“I mean no harm to anyone at Calila.” He shook his head as he spoke.

“Perhaps not. But I doubt that the countess would believe that once I tell her that you are in love wi
th Lord Solomon’s daughter, Lady Christabel.”

The man’s eyes opened wide at this announcement. He said naught, just turned and ran as fast as he could toward the stables to collect a horse
and carry out his deed.

Chapter 7

Braden rode into Banesmoor Castle, madder than hell that the traitorous sylph had given away his identity and nearly got him killed. He’d thought their kiss meant something. It had to him, yet she had no qualms in telling the stablemaster who he was. Who knew how many others she’d told as well. And she only made matters worse by making him admit he was betrothed to Lord Solomon’s daughter right in front of her father.

’Twas still raining and that irritated him even more. He knew Portia was behind the wind, the rain and the cyclone as well. He could have been killed with her little tricks, and only pitied the poor men and animals he saw swirling around high up in the air. There was no way they’d survived the destructive forces of nature.

He handed off his horse to a squire and made his way quickly into the great hall where many of the wounded men from battle already waited. He saw Lord Solomon across the room motioning for him to join them.

“Sir Braden, I am glad to see you were not harmed in the battle,” said the man.

His daughter was helping to wrap the men’s wounds, just finishing up with Sir Samuel.

“Aye,” said Braden. “Did we lose many men today
, my lord?”

“Sir Samuel?” he asked
, looking to his captain of the guard.

“Nay, not many at all,” stated the man,
“which is surprising. The storm put an end to the battle, and probably saved the lives of many from both sides because of it.”

“The cyclone must have claimed many lives,” said Braden. “No man nor animal could survive a drop from that height.”

“Not so,” came a voice of a knight just entering the great hall. He looked bedraggled and dirty and a dozen men followed him, but none of them were wounded in the least. “We lived through that whirlwind. It was unbelievable as it seemed to just set us down gently. I’ve never seen the likes of it before.”

“Were you able to get inside the castle walls and create a distraction?” asked Lord Solomon to Braden.

“I was able to get inside, but I am sad to say I failed you at creating a big enough distraction to keep their men from noticing our troops.”

“That’s a shame,” answered Lord Solomon.

“I am sorry to say I’ve failed you, my lord.” Braden shook his head. “But my identity was discovered right after I followed the spy inside the castle walls.”

“So y
ou found the spy?” he asked, nodding his head in approval. “So who is it? Tell me so I know which of my men to hang at the crossroads.”

“’Tis not one of your men,” stated Sir Braden. “Matter of fact it is not a man at all, but a woman.”

“A woman?” he asked. “Who?”

Braden suddenly felt like he’d made a mistake by revealing this information to Lord Solomon. As angry as he was with Portia-Maer, she did manage to save the lives of many
men from both sides of the battle with her little trick of the weather.

“She is naught but a commoner from the village,” he lied. “But I think she was being helped as someone else knew of my identity as well.”

“Who?” he asked.

“The stablemaster,” he relayed. “I believe the man’s name was Vance.”

Lady Christabel gasped at this announcement, looking up from her ministrations with fear in her eyes.

“That was the name of our stablemaster that you banned from the grounds,” Sir Samuel relayed to the lord of the castle.

“That’s correct,” said Lord Solomon, stroking his chin. “I thought there was something ill-mannered about that man. I caught him on more than one occasion in the corridor near the bedchambers late at night. I have a feeling he was after my daughter. I was going to have him hanged, but Christabel convinced me to just ban him from my lands instead. Now I see I was right all along. Sir Braden, figure out a way to capture this man and bring him back to Banesmoor.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“No spy shall be set free under my rule. Instead, he would be executed like I should have done the first time.”

“Father, nay
!” said Lady Christabel, rushing to his side.

“You would not talk me out of it again, daughter.” Then he looked to Sir Braden. “I am happy with your service, and you may have my daughter’s hand in marriage
after all, Sir Braden.”

“I accept,” he answered, bowing his head.

“Good, then I would have the priest post the wedding banns anon. And in the meantime, I want you at Lady Christabel’s side at all times. She is not safe as long as this spy lives. But under the protection of your sword, I have naught to fear.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Father.” Lady Christabel didn’t wait for his dismissal, but rather hurried away
out of the great hall.

“S
ir Braden, join me and my men for a drink at the fireside. I think you are going to make a fine husband to my daughter after all.”

Braden joined Lord Solomon and his men, knowing his acceptance into Banesmoor was very important. And now he’d been given the prize envied by all.
The Lady Christabel’s hand in marriage as well as gaining the title of lord, wealth and land. So why, he wondered did he feel miserable and more like a traitor than he had before? And why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about the fae girl who’d just betrayed him and almost cost him his life?

Chapter 8

It had been close to two days since Portia sent Vance to collect the healer from Manterra. She’d almost given up hope that he’d ever return, when she heard a knock at the solar door. She’d stayed by her father’s side constantly, only leaving to replenish her strength from time to time out in the fresh air.

“Enter,” she called, her heart dropping to see ’twas only a servant come to bring her a meal.

“Would the earl be requiring a meal as well?” asked the servant boy, placing the tray down on a nearby table.

“Nay, he has yet to regain c
onsciousness,” she said and quickly dismissed him. Before the door could close, the countess entered, two guards right behind her.

“Has he awakened yet?” she asked, coming close to the bed to survey him.

Portia looked down to her father’s sleeping form and shook her head. “Nay, he has not.”

“So your healing kiss did not
work, did it? I think he fared better in the underground chamber. There he was free from bothersome people and secure as well. I would have him removed anon.”

“Nay!” She shot up from the edge of the bed and put out her arms in a protective manner. “You would not touch my father again.”

By the fire in the woman’s eyes, Portia knew she was in over her head. Though she was the earl’s daughter, she still owed respect to her stepmother and the woman’s word held more weight than her own. But thankfully before the countess could utter a word, the door burst open and in walked an old woman with long grey hair followed by the stablemaster. The guards drew their swords and she stopped abruptly and looked at them as if she couldn’t believe they were trying to block her path.

“Who are you?” the countess
demanded to know. “And why do you enter without knocking? I should have you punished for that.”

“I am Juturna, a seer and healer. I have traveled all night to make it here quickly from Manterra. I have come to heal the earl.”

“Manterra? We have our own healer, besides no one called for you, old woman. Now be on your way.”

“I called for her,” said Portia making her way toward the seer. “And guards, put away your weapons, she means no harm, but to heal my father only.”

The guards looked to the countess before they did as directed, and only by her slight nod of her head did they sheathe their swords.

This bothered Portia immensely, as they had always heeded her commands when her mother was alive. But things changed since her father remarried. And Portia did not like what was happening inside the walls of Calila.

“I am Portia-Maer,” she said, directing the woman toward the bed. “I sent the message to the new duchess, Lady Rae at Manterra.”

“Unf
ortunately, the duchess is visiting Thorndale and the duke is in route to see the king, so neither of them were present. But I heard the stablemaster’s story and came anon, my lady. I must also say, I am happy to finally meet you.”

“Enough of this nonsense,” said the countess. “You cannot
stay after all. I would send my own healer in your place.”

“Lady Portia has requested my services and I would not leave before I fulfill her wish,” said Juturna, no fear in her voice though she spoke brashly to a woman who held so much power. “And if you’d like, I could look into my crystal orb and tell you your future, Countess. I can also see into the past, and
would look into yours as soon as I am done applying herbs to your wounded husband.”

“No need,” she said, picking up her sk
irts and heading across the room. “I would not participate in the works of the devil.” She headed out the door and her guards followed.

“Would there
be anything else, my lady?” asked the stablemaster whom she had almost forgotten was still there.

“Nay, Vance, you have done well. Thank you and you may leave now.”

He bowed and left the room quickly, closing the door behind him.

Juturna busied herself opening her bags of herbs and preparing to heal the earl.

“I cannot believe how brashly you spoke to my stepmother,” said Portia. “Nor the way she left so quickly by your offer to look into her future.”

“Twasn’t the future that worried her, my dear, but rather her past that she didn’t want me to discover.”

“What do you mean?” she asked curiously.

“I am not sure, but I can tell that the woman holds a dark secret, having to do with the past. I knew once I mentioned it, she’d leave quickly.”

“Do you think you can heal my father?” She walked forward to survey the herbs and ointments the healer was laying atop the bed.