Valley of Silence (8 page)

“Every day from now till Samhain is dangerous ground. I know what you're saying is good, solid sense, but still in my mind and heart I want. I need to let them both settle a bit before I know what should be done about it next. But I do know that I don't want to go into battle stepping back from this only because I'm afraid of what it could be, or what it couldn't.”

After a moment's debate, Glenna sighed. “It may be good solid sense, but I very much doubt I'd take my own advice if I were in your place.”

Reaching over, Moira took Glenna's hand. “It helps, being able to talk to another woman. Just to be able to say what's in my mind and heart to another woman.”

 

I
n another part of Geall, in a house shrouded against
even the weak and watery light, two other females sat and talked.

It was the end of their day, not the beginning, but they shared a quiet meal.

Quiet because the man they were draining was beyond protest or struggle.

“You were right.” Lora leaned back, delicately dabbing blood from her lips with a linen cloth. The man had been chained to the table between them as Lilith wanted her injured companion to sit, to eat, rather than lie in bed and sip from cups. “Getting up, having a civilized kill was what I needed.”

“There, you see.” Pleased, Lilith smiled.

Lora's face was still badly burned. The holy water that bitch of a demon hunter had hurled at her had wreaked terrible damage. But Lora was healing, and the good fresh meal would help her get her strength back.

“I wish you'd eat a little more though.”

“I will. You've been so good to me, Lilith. And I failed you.”

“You didn't. It was a good plan, and nearly worked. It's you who paid such a high price for it. I can't stand to think of the pain you were in.”

“I would have died without you.”

They had been lovers and friends, competitors and adversaries. They had been everything to each other for four centuries. But Lora's injuries, the near end of her, had brought them closer than they'd ever been.

“Until you were hurt, I didn't know how much I loved and needed you. Here now, sweetheart, just a little more.”

Lora obeyed, taking the man's limp arm, sinking her fangs into the wrist.

Before the burns, she'd been pretty, a youthful blonde with a swaggering style. Now her face was raw and red, riddled with half-healed wounds. But the glassy glaze of pain had faded from her blue eyes, and her voice was coming back strong again.

“It was wonderful, Lilith.” She sat back again. “But I just can't drink another drop.”

“Then I'll have it taken away, and we'll sit by the fire for a bit before bed.”

Lilith rang a little gold bell, signaling one of the servants to clear. The leftovers, she knew, would hardly go to waste.

She rose to help Lora across the room where she'd already had pillows and a throw placed on the sofa.

“More comfortable than the caves,” Lilith commented. “But still I'll be glad to be out of this place, and into proper accommodations.”

She settled Lora before she sat, regal in her red gown, her hair piled high and gold as she'd wanted to add a touch of glamour to the evening.

Her beauty hadn't diminished in the two thousand years since her death.

“Do you have pain?” she asked Lora.

“No. I feel almost myself. I'm sorry I behaved so childishly yesterday morning, when that bitch flew over on her ridiculous dragon-man. Seeing her again just brought it all flooding back, all the fear, the agony.”

“We gave her a surprise though, didn't we?” Soothing, Lilith smoothed the throw, tucking it around Lora. “Imagine her shock when her arrows met Midir's shield. You were right to talk me out of killing him.”

“The next time I see her, I won't weep and hide under the covers like a frightened child. The next time I see her, she dies, by my hand. I swear it.”

“Do you still have a yearning to change her, for a playmate?”

“I'd never give that whore such a gift.” Lora's mouth tightened on a snarl. “She'll get only death from me.” Then with a sigh, Lora laid her head on Lilith's shoulder. “She would never have been what you are to me. I thought to have a bit of fun with her. And I thought she'd be entertaining for both of us in bed—all that energy and violence inside her was so appealing. But I could never have loved her as I love you.”

She tilted her head up now so their lips met in a long, soft kiss. “I'm yours, Lilith. Eternally.”

“My sweet girl.” Lilith pressed another kiss to Lora's temple. “Do you know when I first saw you, sitting alone on the dark, damp streets of Paris, weeping, I knew you'd belong to me.”

“I thought I loved a man,” Lora murmured. “And he loved me. But he used me, spurned me, tossed me aside for another. I thought my heart was broken. Then you were there.”

“Do you remember what I said to you?”

“I will never forget. You said, ‘My sweet, sad girl, are you all alone?' I told you my life was over, that I would be dead of grief by morning.”

Lilith laughed, stroked Lora's hair. “So dramatic. How could I resist you?”

“Or I you. You were so beautiful—like the queen you are. You wore red, as you do tonight, and your hair so bright, all curls. You took me to your house, and fed me bread and wine, and listened to my sad tale and dried my tears.”

“So young and charming you were. So sure this man who had cast you aside was all you could ever want.”

“I don't remember his name now. Or his face.”

“You came so willingly into my arms,” Lilith murmured. “I asked if you would wish to stay young and lovely forever, if you would wish to have power over men like the one who hurt you. You said yes, and yes again. Even when I tasted you, you held tight to me and said again, yes and yes.”

Hints of red stained the whites of Lora's eyes as she remembered that magnificent moment. “I'd never known such a thrill.”

“When you drank from me, I loved you as I had no other.”

“And when I lived again, you brought him to me, so I could have the one who scorned me for my first kill. We shared him, as we've shared so much.”

“When Samhain comes, we will share all there is.”

 

W
hile the vampires slept, Moira stood on the playing
field. She was filthy and drenched. Her hip throbbed from a blow that had slipped past her guard, and her breath was still wheezing out of her lungs from the last bout.

She felt wonderful.

She held out a hand to help Dervil to her feet. “You did very well,” Moira told her. “You nearly had me.”

Wincing, Dervil rubbed her ample rump. “I think not.”

Hands on hips, her head covered with a wide-brimmed and now sodden leather hat, Glenna surveyed both of them. “You stayed on your feet longer this time, and got back on them quicker.” She nodded approval at Dervil. “Improvement. From what I'm told there are several men on the other side of this field that you could take.”

“There are several men on the other side of the field she
has
taken,” Isleen called out, and got a number of bawdy laughs.

“And I know what to do with them when I take them,” Dervil retorted.

“Put some of that energy into your next match,” Glenna suggested, “and you might win it instead of ending up in the mud. Let's finish up with some archery practice, and call this a day.”

Even as the women responded with relief that the session was nearly done, Moira waved a hand. “I haven't yet met Ceara in hand-to-hand. I've been saving what I'm told is the best for last. So I can retire full champion from the field.”

“Cocky. I like it.” Blair spoke as she moved through the rain and the mud. “Weapon details moving along,” she added. “We've kicked production up a notch.” She tipped back her head. “Let me tell you, this rain feels great after a couple hours with an anvil and forge. So, what's the score here?”

“Moira's taken all comers with sword and hand-to-hand. She's challenged Ceara here to a bout before we finish up with bows.”

“Good enough. I can take a group to the targets while you finish up here.”

There was immediate and vocal protest from the women who were eager to watch the last match.

“Blood-thirsty.” Blair nodded approval. “I like that, too. All right, ladies, give them room. Who's your money on?” she murmured to Glenna as the two women squared off.

“Moira's hot, and motivated. She's just plowed through the field today. I'd have to put my money on her.”

“I'll take Ceara. She's tricky, and she's not afraid to take a hit. See,” she added when Ceara went sprawling facedown in the mud, and sprang up again to charge.

She feinted, pivoting at the last minute, then swept up a foot to catch Moira mid-body. The queen shot back from the hit, managed to catch her balance and duck the next blow. She came up hard, flipped Ceara over her shoulder. But when she spun around, Ceara wasn't flat on her back, but had pumped off her own hands, and striking out with her feet, kicked Moira into the mud.

Moira was up quickly, and with a light in her eyes. “Well now, your reputation hasn't been exaggerated, I see.”

“I'm after the prize.” Ceara crouched, circled. “Be warned.”

“Come get it then.”

“Good fight,” Blair commented as fists and feet and bodies flew. “Ceara, keep your elbows up!”

Glenna jabbed Blair with her own. “No coaching from the peanut gallery.” But she was smiling, not just because it was a good, strong fight, but because the rest of the women were shouting and calling out advice.

They'd made themselves a unit.

Moira fell back, scissored out her legs and swept Ceara's from under her. But when she rolled up again to pin her opponent, Ceara thrust up and flipped Moira over her head.

There were several sounds of sympathy as Moira landed with a bone-rattling thud. Before she could shove up again, Ceara was straddling her, an elbow to Moira's throat, and a fist to her heart.

“You're staked.”

“Damn me, I am. Get off me, gods' pity, you're crushing my lungs.”

She sucked in breath as she struggled to push her still vibrating body into a sitting position. Ceara simply dropped down to sit in the mud beside her, and the two of them panted and eyed each other.

“You're a great bitch in battle,” Moira said at length.

“The same to you, with all respect, my lady. I've bruises on top of my bruises now, and knots on top of those.”

Moira swiped some of the mud from her face with her forearm. “I wasn't fresh.”

“That's true, but I could take you fresh as well.”

“I think you're right. You won the prize, Ceara, and won it fair. I'm proud to have been bested by you.”

She offered her hand, and after shaking it, raised it high. “Here's the champion of the hand-to-hand.”

There were cheers, and in the way of women, hugs. But when Ceara offered a hand to help Moira to her feet, Moira waved her off. “I'm just going to sit here another minute, catch my breath. Go on, get your bow. And with that you nor any will best me.”

“It couldn't be done if we had a thousand years. Your Majesty?”

“Aye? Oh God, I won't sit easy for a week,” she added, rubbing her sore hip.

“I've never been prouder of my queen.”

Moira smiled to herself, then simply sat quiet, taking stock of her aches and pains. Then her gaze was drawn up to the spot where she'd stood with Cian the night before.

And there he was, standing in the gloom and the rain, looking down at her. She could feel the force of him through the distance, the allure he exuded, she thought, as other men never could.

“So what are you looking at?” she said to herself. “Is it amusing to you to see me on my arse in the mud?”

Probably, she decided, and who could blame him? She imagined she made quite the picture.

“We'll have a match of our own, I'm thinking, sooner or later. Then we'll see who bests who.”

She pushed herself to her feet, gritted her teeth against the need to limp. So she could walk away steady, and without a backward glance.

A
fter scraping off an acre of mud
,
Moira joined
the others for a strategy session. She walked in at that tenuous point between discussion and argument.

“I'm not saying you can't handle yourself.” Larkin's tone as he addressed Blair had taken on that last ragged edge of patience. “I'm saying Hoyt and I can manage this.”

“And I'm saying three would get it done faster than two.”

“What would that be?” Moira asked.

The answer came from several sources, with steadily rising voices.

“I can't make much of that out.” She held up a hand for peace as she took her seat at the table. “Am I understanding that we're after sending a party out to set up a base near the battlefield, scouting as they go?”

“With the first troops moving out behind them, in the morning,” Hoyt finished. “We have locations marked where shelter can be found. Here,” he said, tapping the map spread out on the table. “A day's march east. Then another, a day's march from that.”

“But the fact is, with Lilith dug in here.” Blair laid her fist on the map. “She's taken the advantage of primo location and facilities. We can crisscross our bases, establish a kind of jagged front line. But we need to start moving troops, and we need to secure bases for them before we send them out. Not only along the route, but at the best points near the valley.”

“True enough.” Considering, Moira studied the map. She saw how it was meant to work, with daylight jumps from position to position. “Larkin can cover the distance faster than any—we'd agree on that?”

“The way things are. But if we recruited other dragons—”

“Blair, I've said that can't be.”

“Dragons?” Moira held up a hand again to silence Larkin's interruption. “What do you mean?”

“When Larkin shape-shifts he can communicate, at least on a rudimentary level, with what he becomes,” Blair began.

“Aye. And?”

“So if he calls other dragons when he's in that form, why couldn't he convince some of them to follow him—with riders?”

“They're peaceful, gentle creatures,” Larkin interrupted. “They shouldn't be drawn into something like this where they could be harmed.”

“Wait, wait.” Rolling it over in her mind, Moira sat back. “Could it be done? I've seen some take a baby in as a kind of pet from time to time, but I've never heard of anyone riding a full-grown dragon except in stories. If it could be done, it would allow us to travel swiftly, and even by night. And in battle…”

She broke off when she saw Larkin's expression. “I'm sorry, truly. But we can't be sentimental about it. The dragon is a symbol of Geall, and Geall needs its symbols. We ask our people, our women, the young ones, the old ones, to fight and to sacrifice. If such a thing could be done, it should be done.”

“I don't know if it can be.”

Moira knew when Larkin was being mule-headed. “You'll need to try. We love our horses, too, Larkin,” Moira reminded him. “But we'll ride them into this. Now, Hoyt, would you tell me plain, is it best for you and Larkin to go on your own, or for the three of you to do this?”

He looked pained. “Well, you've put me between the wolf and the tiger, haven't you? Larkin's concerned that Blair's not fully recovered from the attack.”

“I'm good to go,” she insisted, then punched Larkin—not so lightly—in the arm. “Want to go one-on-one with me, cowboy, and find out?”

“Her ribs still pain her by end of day, and the shoulder that was hurt is weak yet.”

“I'll show you weak.”

“Now, now, children.” Glenna managed to sound light and sarcastic. “I'm going to stick my neck into this. Blair's fit for duty. Sorry, honey,” she said to Larkin, “but we really can't keep her on the disabled list.”

“It would be best if she went.” Hoyt sent a look of sympathy toward Larkin. “With three, we shouldn't need to be gone more than a day. The first troops could be sent out at first light, and make their way to the first post.”

“That leaves three of us here to continue to work and train and prepare.” Moira nodded. “This would be best. Would you think Tynan should lead those first troops, Larkin?”

“Do you ask as a sop to my wounded pride, or because you want my opinion of it?”

“Both.”

She charmed a reluctant laugh out of him. “Then, aye, he'd be the one for it.”

“We should get started.” Blair glanced around the table. “With the time Larkin can make in the air, we'd be able to set up the first base, maybe the first two, before nightfall.”

“Take whatever you need,” Moira told them. “I'll speak to Tynan, and have him lead the first troops out at dawn.”

“She'll be expecting you.” Cian spoke for the first time since Moira had entered. “If Lilith hasn't thought of this move, one of her advisors would have. She'll have troops posted to intercept and ambush.”

Blair nodded. “Figured that. It's why we're better with three, and coming from the air. They won't take us by surprise, but we might just take them.”

“Better chance of that if you come from this direction.” He got up to come around to the map and illustrate. “Circle around, come at the first location from the east or the north. More time, of course, but they'd likely be watching for you from this direction.”

“Good point,” Blair acknowledged, then gave Larkin a considering frown. “Hoyt and I could put down, out of sight, and send our boy here to get the lay. Maybe as a bird, or some animal they wouldn't think twice about seeing in the area. Have to take extra provisions,” she added, “the way he burns up the fuel with the changes, but better safe than otherwise.”

“Keep it small,” Cian warned Larkin. “If you go as a deer or any sort of game, they might shoot you for sport or an extra meal. They'll be bored by this time, I'd imagine. If the weather there's as it's been here today, they'll likely be inside or under shelter. We don't care to be drenched any more than humans do.”

“Okay, we'll work it out.” Blair got to her feet. “Any magic tricks up your sleeve,” she said to Hoyt, “don't forget to pack them.”

 

“B
e careful.” Glenna fussed with Hoyt's cloak as
they stood at the gates.

“Don't worry.”

“Goes with the territory.” She held both hands on his cloak as she looked up into his eyes. “We've stuck pretty tight together since this started, you and I. I wish I were going with you.”

“You're needed here.” He touched her cross, then his own. “You'll know where I am, and how I am. Two days, at most. I'll come back to you.”

“Make damn sure of it.” She pulled him to her, kissed him hard and long while her heart trembled. “I love you. Be safe.”

“I love you. Be strong. Now go inside, out of the rain.”

But she waited while Larkin shimmered into the dragon, then Hoyt and Blair loaded on the packs and weapons. She waited while they vaulted on the dragon's back, and rose up, flying through the gray curtain of rain.

“It's hard,” Moira said from behind her, “to be the one who waits.”

“Horrible.” She reached back, took a strong grip on Moira's hand. “So keep me busy. We'll go in, have our first lesson.” They turned, walked away from the gates. “Do you remember when you first knew you had power?”

“No. It wasn't definite, as it was with Larkin. It was more that I sometimes knew things. Where to find something that was lost. Or where someone was hiding if we were playing a game. But it always seemed it could have been as much luck, or just good sense as anything else.”

“Was your mother gifted?”

“She was. But softly, if you understand me. A kind of empathy, you could say. A gift for growing things.” Idly she tossed her braid behind her shoulder. “You've seen the gardens here, and those were her doing. If she was able to attend a birth or help at a sick bed, she could bring comfort and ease. I thought of what she had, and what I have, as a kind of woman's magic. Empathy, intuition, healing.”

They stepped through the archway, moved to the stairs. “But since I began to work with you and Hoyt, I felt more. Like a stirring. It seemed to me it was a kind of echo, or reflection of the stronger power both of you have. Then I took hold of the sword.”

“A talisman, or conduit,” Glenna speculated. “Or more simply a key that opened a door to what was already in you.”

She led the way into the room where she and Hoyt worked. It wasn't so different from the tower room in Ireland. Bigger, Moira thought, and with an arched doorway that led to one of the castle's many balconies.

But the scents were the same, herbs and ash and something that was a mix of floral and metallic. A number of Glenna's crystals were set around on tables and chests. As much Moira supposed for aesthetics as for magical purposes.

There were bowls and vials and books.

And crosses—silver, wood, stone, copper—hung at every opening to the outside.

“Damp and chilly in here,” Glenna commented. “Why don't you light the fire?”

“Oh, of course.” But when Moira started across to the wide stone hearth, Glenna laughed and grabbed her hand.

“No, not like that. Fire. It's elemental, one of the basic skills. To practice magic, we utilize the elements, nature. We respect them. Light the fire from here, with me.”

“I wouldn't know how to begin.”

“With yourself. Mind, heart, belly, bone and blood. See the fire, its colors and shapes. Feel the heat of it, smell the smoke and burning turf. Take that from your mind, from inside you, and put it in the hearth.”

Moira did as she was told, and though she felt something ripple along her skin, the turf remained quiet and cold.

“I'm sorry.”

“No. It takes time, energy and focus. And it takes faith. You don't remember taking your first steps, pulling yourself up with your mother's skirts or on a table, or how many times you fell before you stood. Take your first step, Moira. Hold out your right hand. Imagine the fire lighting inside you, hot, bright. It flows out, up from your belly, through your heart, down your arm to your fingertips. See it, feel it. Send it where you will.”

It was almost a trance, Glenna's quiet voice and that building of heat. A stronger ripple now, under her skin, over it. And a weak tongue of flame spurted along a brick of turf.

“Oh! It was a flash inside my head. But you did most of it.”

“A little of it,” Glenna corrected. “Just a little push.”

Moira blew out a long breath. “I feel I've run up a mountain.”

“It'll get easier.”

Watching the fire catch hold, Moira nodded. “Teach me.”

 

B
y the end of two hours, Moira felt as though she'd
not only climbed a mountain, but had fallen off one—on her head. But she'd learned to call and somewhat control two of the four elements. Glenna had given her a list of simple spells and charms to practice on her own.

Homework, Glenna had called it, and the scholar in Moira was eager to apply herself to it.

But there were other matters to be seen to. She changed to more formal attire, fixed the mitre of her office on her head, and went to meet with her uncle regarding finance.

Wars cost coin.

“Many had to leave their crops unharvested,” Riddock told her. “Their flocks and herds untended. Some will surely lose their homes.”

“We'll help them rebuild. There will be no tax or levy imposed for two years.”

“Moira—”

“The treasury will stand it, Uncle. I can't sit on gold and jewels, no matter what their history, while our people sacrifice. I would melt the royal crown of Geall first. When this is done, I will plant crops. Fifty acres. Another fifty for grazing. What comes from it will be given back to those who fought, the families of any who perished or were injured serving Geall.”

He rubbed his own aching head. “And how will you know who has served and who has hidden themselves away?”

“We'll believe. You think I'm naive and softhearted. Perhaps I am. Some of that will be needed from a queen when this is done. I can't be naive and softhearted now, and I must push and prod and ask my people to give and give. I ask a great deal of you. You're here, while strangers turn your home into a barracks.”

“It's nothing.”

“It's very much, and won't be the last I ask of you. Oran marches tomorrow.”

“He's spoken to me.” There was pride in Riddock's voice, though his eyes were heavy with sorrow. “My younger son is a man, and must be a man.”

“Being yours he could be no less. For now, even as troops begin to march, work has to continued here. Weapons must be forged, people must be fed and housed. Trained. Whatever is required you have leave to spend. But…” She smiled now, thinly. “If any merchant or craftsman seeks too heavy a profit, he will have an audience with the queen.”

Riddock returned her smile. “Very well. Your mother would be proud of you.”

“I hope she would. I think of her every day.” She rose, and the gesture brought him to his feet. “I must go to my aunt. She's so good to stand as chantelain these weeks.”

“She enjoys it.”

“I wonder that she could. The kitchens, the laundry, the sewing, the cleaning. It's beyond my ken with so many to tend. I'd be lost without her.”

“She'll be pleased to hear it. But she tells me you come, every day, to speak with her, and to tour those kitchen, the laundry. Just as I'm told you go speak to the smithies, the young ones you have carving stakes. And today you trained with the other women.”

“I never thought my office would be an idle one.”

“No, but you need rest, Moira. Your eyes are shadowed.”