Crystal Moon (10 page)

the bench. “Quit squabbling like discontented children. You spoil

my appetite.”

In the sudden silence, Dravid arrived with a tray carrying

two plates heaped high with food, a pitcher of ale and two

glasses. With a shy smile for Sianna he served them.

“Thank you. Would you bring a plate for Rul Cathor as

well?” she asked.

The boy nodded and hurried off.

“Dravid is besotted with you. They all jump to do your

bidding.” Kyne sneered and waved his arm toward the others

busy eating their meal. “Have you put a spell on them?”

“No.” Spurred by his uncalled-for sarcasm, her tongue again

slipped its leash. “I just treat them as I would like to be treated.

It’s a lesson you might do well to learn.”

Kyne’s sneer turned to snarl. “I need no lessons from the

spawn of DiSan....”

“Kyne,” Graham warned quietly, his gaze shooting to the

people only a table away. “Sianna, if you and Kyne cannot

control your tongues, I will be forced to abandon my food. Call

a truce, at least through last meal.” His tone lightened. “I am

hungry.”

“It’s well known in the castle, you are always hungry,”

Sianna teased, taking his lead to ease the rising tension. A big

man, Graham had a hearty, non-discriminating appetite. Little

prompted him to forego eating.

At Graham’s heartfelt plea, a grin softened the stiff line of

Kyne’s mouth. He looked at Sianna, then stretched out his left

hand palm up, fingers slightly spread, the traditional male to

female gesture of acceptance. “Truce?”

With what lay between them was a truce possible? How

long could it last?

“Truce,” she repeated and placed her hand over his. Lying

in his strong, calloused palm, her fingers looked pale and fragile,

like her life. Briefly, his fingers closed over hers, sending a

shaft of warmth through her, then opened again. She snatched

her hand away and buried it in her lap. By giving her right hand

into his left, she accepted his dominance, and he offered her his

protection. The irony was not lost on either of them. Only

Graham seemed oblivious to the farce as he dug into his meal.

With Kyne’s gaze resting on her, at first the food tasted like

ashes in Sianna’s mouth, but to rebuild her strength she forced

herself to eat. As her taste buds woke up, his hostility was

forgotten and her anger and confusion evaporated under the

spicy aroma of Betha’s stew and the fragrant smell of fresh

baked bread. She barely restrained herself from gulping the

delicious food. While plentiful, food at the valetudinarian was

plain and bland to accommodate the sensitive palates of the

elderly sisters and their patients. Those with a taste for more

variety usually did without.

“Would you have some more, milady?”

She looked up to find Betha standing at her elbow with a

serving bowl in her hands.

“Yes, please.” Sianna held up her empty plate. The good

Sisters had often teased her about her overly healthy appetite.

They would exclaim and wonder where such a small person

put such large helpings of food.

Betha gave her a smug smile, and three pairs of eyes

focused on Sianna’s flat belly. At this reminder of her situation,

her stomach heaved and appetite fled.

They believed she ate for two. What would happen when

time revealed her lie?

“Sianna! Father!” Zoa’s excited squeal drew Kyne’s

attention from Sianna’s suddenly pale face. He turned to see

the child race across the hall and skid to a stop next to Sianna.

“See my new dress?” She twirled around, sending the her full

skirt flying. “Grenna made it for me. Isn’t it pretty?”

Without taking a breath, Zoa launched, into a long detailed

description of the dressmaking process. While Sianna listened

attentively to the child’s chatter, Kyne frowned. A moment

passed before he realized what puzzled him about Zoa.

Small and thin for her age, Zoa rarely finished a sentence

without coughing, yet throughout her recitation she hadn’t

missed a breath. Her dark eyes sparkled, and her once too-

pale, taut skin glowed with a soft, rosy color. She looked, if not

healthy, at least not ill. Kyne hesitated to hope Althea’s diagnosis

was wrong.

“It’s a lovely dress,” Sianna said. “Grenna is a talented

seamstress, and you’re a fortunate young lady.”

The fatigue in Sianna’s voice bothered Kyne. Why? He

should be pleased to see her brought low. To see the defiance

drained from her, as the life had drained from Aubin.

All day he had watched as she, without being asked or

commanded, went about the castle and brought order from

chaos. In a few hours she had not only cleared away the dirt

and grime of years of neglect, but the whole atmosphere had

changed. People moved about with firmer steps. They hummed

under their breath, and smiles hovered around their lips.

“It’s as if she’s bewitched them.”

Though Graham teased, Kyne could hear a note of awe in

Graham’s whisper. “Other than a good example, I doubt she

casts any spells.” Kyne glared at his friend. Though many of

the common folk still believed in the old tales of witches and

magic, Kyne gave little credence to superstitious nonsense.

Whatever chore Sianna deemed necessary, she pitched in and

did along with the others.

Wheezing, the grandmotherly Grenna caught up with her

charge. “Have a care, Zoa. You’ll lose your breath again, as

I’ve lost mine trying to keep up with the likes of you.” She

rested one palm over her ample bosom and fanned herself with

her other hand. “Quit pestering the Rul. It’s time for little girls

to be abed.”

“But I’m not tired,” Zoa protested. She climbed into

Sianna’s lap, wrapped her arms around her waist, and pouted.

A ragged cough shook her body. At that small sound, Kyne’s

hopes faded.

Sianna’s arm curled protectively around the little girl. Her

hand spread out over Zoa’s back, and she whispered something

into the child’s ear. Around Sianna’s splayed fingers a warm,

pinkish glow enveloped Zoa’s back. Kyne blinked, and the glow

vanished. A mere trick of light?

Zoa nodded and gave Sianna a tight hug.

Grenna turned to Sianna. “Pardon, milady. A bath has been

readied for you in Rul Cathor’s chamber, and I’ve found you

some fresh clothing.”

From the worn, grimy shirt and trousers Sianna wore,

Grenna’s glare shifted to Kyne. Like a chastened child, his

feeling of guilt over Sianna’s treatment increased.

“A bath?”

At her thankful disbelief, his guilt doubled.

“Yes, milady. Later you can visit the bathing chambers, but

after your long trip and tiring day, we, that is Betha and I, thought

you might like the comfort and privacy of your chamber. Don’t

dally now, or the water will grow cold.” Grenna held out her

hand to Zoa. “Come now, poppet. To bed with you.”

After giving Sianna another hug, Zoa bounced from her lap

and skipped away alongside her nanny. Again, Zoa’s easy

breathing and energy amazed Kyne.

“Have you finished your meal?” Graham asked Sianna.

“What?” Her blue eyes wide and wistful, she looked up,

then back down at her empty plate. A blush spread over her

cheeks. “Oh...yes....If you’ll excuse me.” She rose and hurried

after Grenna and Zoa.

Graham’s thick eyebrows lifted. Humor twinkled in his eyes

as he asked, “Where do you think she puts it all?”

Kyne barely heard Graham’s teasing question as he

watched Sianna rush away. In minutes she would strip off the

simple cotton shirt and wool trousers she wore and slide naked

into steaming water. At the imagined image his mouth went

dry. He jumped to his feet. The bench tipped over and clattered

to the floor. Graham’s laughter followed him out of the hall into

the night.

Cool, moist air swirled around him, but didn’t douse the fire

within.

***

Kyne knew he should retire to his chamber, but the thought

of Sianna in his bed, warm and damp from her bath, kept him

standing in the chilly hall. Long after last meal, he stood at the

top of the stairs and gazed down into the now quiet great hall.

He shivered at the memory of the boy’s blade slicing above

Sianna’s head. How close she’d come to death. Why didn’t the

thought of her head separated from her body fill him with

satisfaction, as it should? Even now, her foolish bravery made

him go cold with dread.

Though the big man made no sound, as usual, Kyne sensed

Graham’s approach behind him.

“Is it my imagination, or does the hall seem less chaotic

since Sianna arrived?” Graham asked, his gaze directed at the

makeshift infirmary. “It appears DiSanti’s daughter is truly a

healer.”

“Don’t speak of her identity, even when you think us alone.

Do you wish her dead?”

“Do you?”

Did he? Unwilling or unable to answer, Kyne wasn’t sure

which, he ignored Graham’s question and offered an explanation

for order in the hall. “Perhaps the people are just subdued after

this morning’s episode?”

“Perhaps.” Graham merely restated the obvious. He, along

with Kyne, had watched as she turned the castle upside down

and set it to rights. Kyne’s gaze followed Graham’s to the left.

Already the small infirmary area was organized, the patients

resting comfortably on fresh bedding, pallets lined up, the floors

cleared of bloody rags and mopped clean. Even Althea moved

with more spring than Kyne had ever before seen, and he’d

known the old healer all of his eight and twenty annum.

“The people respond to her gentle touch and soft voice. Is

she truly evil? Can anyone fool so many?”

Graham’s questions struck too close to Kyne’s growing

doubts. “Do you think she carries Aubin’s child?”

Did she indeed carry his brother’s child? The idea left him

angry and confused. Should he rejoice that a part of Aubin

lived on, or rage that Cathor blood mingled with DiSanti venom?

“Perhaps we get ahead of ourselves,” Kyne cautioned. “A

good appetite and fatigue are not proof the woman is breeding.

And if she is, what guarantee do we have the child is indeed

Aubin’s?

“If she is in league with her father in Aubin’s murder, if she

wants the power marriage to Prince Timon will give her, why

did she dally with Aubin? Allow herself to be caught? An

experienced woman would know enough to prevent an

unplanned pregnancy. The methods are simple enough. Does

she fake these simple signs to delay her judgement?”

“Do you seek to convince yourself of her innocence or of

her guilt?” Graham asked.

“Could I be wrong about her?” Kyne kept the more

burdensome questions to himself. Could he spare her? Send

her into exile rather than see her killed? The more time he

spent in her company, the less he wanted to see her dead.

Executing a woman, even one guilty of terrible crimes, was not

something he felt easy with. “Zoa is thoroughly taken with her.

Even Warda is now her devoted slave. I set him as her jailer,

yet he acts more her guardian.”

Kyne felt Graham’s unspoken compassion for his difficult

decision. The burden of being a Rul, though a disposed one, lay

heavy on Kyne’s shoulders. Would that he could pass this choice

to another. No. The woman’s fate belonged to no other.

He shook his head. “How can I waver in this? When she

put pen to paper asking Aubin to meet her, then betrayed him to

her father, she signed her own death warrant. Nothing she does

now can change what went before. I will use her to lure her

father from the safety of his fortress. They will stand trial for

their crimes and die together.” The words tasted bitter. How

much more so would be the act?

The weight of Graham’s hand on his shoulder gave Kyne

little comfort. “I don’t envy you your duty, my friend. But

don’t be too quick to jump to judgement. Things are often not

as they might first seem. If evil can disguise itself as innocence,

perhaps innocence can be hidden by evil.

“Je’al left after sunrise. It will be at least five days before

we can expect DiSanti’s response. What will you do with her if

he refuses the bait and abandons her?”

What would he do? Nothing was clear anymore.

“I wish I knew.”

SIX

Familiar, pungent scents surrounded Sianna as she carefully

inventoried Althea’s dwindling store of herbs and medicines.

Warda, his sensitive nose repelled by the strong odors, lay just

outside the door to the castle’s herb room. Supplies ran

desperately low.

Alt root, used to relieve pain and swelling, was nearly gone,

and only a handful of dried maca leaves for poultices remained.

Other less critical herbs and medicines were depleted. Too old

and kept too busy, Althea no longer scoured the mountainside

and valley for her medicines, but instead made do with what

was at hand. Sianna needed to restock or risk their patients’