Susan Spencer Paul - [Enchanter 01] (22 page)

“Do you have a safe place where we might accomplish all these things?”

“Very safe,” was the reply. “Even Malachi would have difficulty finding us.”

“What about Cadmaran? Would he find it difficult?”

“The earl of Llew?” Steffan said, sobering at once. “Aye, he would. But he’s not anywhere hereabouts, is he? I’ve heard nothing of him for two days, since he crossed the border toward London.”

“Excellent,” said Niclas, and Julia shared his relief. “In that case, lead on, and take us to your safe spot. We accept your offer of hospitality, crude as it may be.”

Steffan laughed. “Crude, you say? You shall see, cousin, and take back the insult. Come, men! Fetch the horses and let us be on our way to show our guests such hospitality as only we can offer.”

An hour later, after following so many winding paths that Julia could never have found her way there again without help, they arrived at a sheltered camp hidden deep in a forest that abutted an abrupt rise of mountainous rock. Fissures in the rock revealed several caves, and in these Steffan and his men had created crude dwellings. It
was to the largest of these, once they had all dismounted, that Steffan escorted Niclas and Julia.

“My humble home,” he said, bowing grandly with one arm sweeping toward the entrance, which was covered by a dirty, tattered curtain of leather that had been nailed into the rock. “Welcome to you both.”

They went in first, followed by Steffan, and were greeted by cold darkness, made even darker the moment the leather flap fell.

“Sit!” Steffan adjured happily, moving about without trouble, dragging what sounded like chairs across the dirt floor. “Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll light a fire and get you something warming to drink. I’ve a very good wine and some excellent whisky—Miss Linley won’t want that, of course, but I’m sure you’ll have a glass or two, Niclas. My men have instructions to roast the rabbits that we came across earlier in the day, and we’ve a goodly supply of bread and cheese. We’ll be quite merry and comfortable in a trice.”

Julia expected Niclas to say something about the darkness, at least to remind his cousin that they, unlike he, required light in order to function, but he stayed silent. She felt him moving beside her, and then there came a soft glow of light between them.

She looked down and saw what it was—a small white rock lying on the palm of his hand, glowing like a candle. He spoke to it in Welsh and its light increased dramatically, gently illuminating the entire cave.

Julia glanced up at Niclas, now visible, and saw that he was looking rather disgruntled.

“That dratted Malachi,” he murmured, more to himself than her. “He is
always
right. Blast him.”

“What’s that?” Steffan said from the middle of the cave, where he was building a small fire in a ring of rocks. “Malachi’s been ordering you about again, has he? That’s his habit with all of us. Very bossy fellow is our Lord Graymar.”

“Aye, that he is,” Niclas agreed, “but in this instance I’m glad of it. He filled my pockets with stones. I think you know which ones I mean. Don’t you keep any lamps or candles in here for the sighted, Steffan?”

“Ah, that’s what it is. You have one of
those
stones with you. I’ve never possessed one. Never needed it. Just as I don’t need lamps or candles. But fire, now,” he said with open affection, “is one of the great loves of my life. Next to water and air.”

He struck a match and set it upon the small pile of wood he’d collected, then added a pinch of powder from a little stone bowl set nearby. The flames sparked and rapidly spread, quickly creating a fine fire that gave additional light to the small space. Steffan Seymour, still kneeling, held his hands over it in a caressing manner, closing his eyes and smiling and murmuring. Within moments he appeared to have forgotten that he had guests.

“He’s speaking to the fire,” Julia stated as calmly as she could, staring at the sight.

“To the spirits in the fire,” Niclas corrected in an equally level manner. “It’s a greeting, merely. It will be over in a moment. If he had something to speak to them about it would take forever, believe me. I don’t know why it is, but they always want to take a long time with Steffan.”

Though she knew it was rude, Julia couldn’t tamp down her rampant curiosity and, still mildly, asked, “Your cousin converses with spirits?”

“Yes,” Niclas replied with a sigh. “I know how it must seem to you, but it’s quite normal to speak to other sorts of beings in my family.”

“As you spoke with the faeries last night. Arionrhod and her brothers.”

He nodded. “But Steffan is a greater wizard, a
dewin
, and possesses a far more powerful gift. He was born a mystic—and a redheaded one, which is very rare. You can see that he scarcely misses possessing the kind of physical sight we enjoy.”

“Yes, indeed,” she murmured. “It’s marvelous. But surely he sees a little, for he seems to know exactly where everything—and everyone—is. When you introduced us it seemed as if he could see me perfectly well, even though his eyes weren’t turned toward me.”

“And so he could, in his way,” Niclas said, “but I promise you it’s not the kind of sight that you and I were born with. You must take every care with Steffan. He sees a great deal more than mere eyes can offer. Never let him fool you to think otherwise,” he warned. “He’s taken advantage of young ladies before by pretending to be harmless.”

Julia had already had the same thought.

“He’s very charming,” she said, smiling when she saw Niclas frown at the remark. “I think that’s true of your entire family. It’s part of the magic you’re born with.” When he didn’t appear to be mollified by this, she tried to turn his attention back to their original topic. “And this is because he was born with red hair? What an unusual family heritage.”

“It is, I suppose,” he said. “Seymours are generally of blond or brunet shades, and some are raven-haired, but once
or twice in a generation a redheaded child will be born, and these are more powerfully magic than most of their more common relatives. My cousin Ceridwen has red hair.”

That explained part of why the earl of Llew wanted her, Julia thought, but it only made Steffan Seymour a greater mystery. He was clearly powerful, yet he lived in these odd surroundings and spent his days as a highwayman. It was incredible that his family, especially Lord Graymar, would leave him to pursue his life in a cave.

Not that there was anything wrong with the cave, apart from having no actual door. It appeared to be comfortable enough for a lone man. There were four simple wooden chairs—none of which matched—a small table, a rather large side table across which a collection of crude pottery was strewn, bowls, pitchers, cups, and plates. Another table, not too far away, was adorned with a large kettle, some rags, silverware, and several wrapped items that were unidentifiable.

Steffan rose from his adoration of the fire at last. “Now, first things first,” he said, smiling widely. “We must get you both clean. Miss Linley may remove her garments here in my dwelling, and you may go outside, cousin. There’s a stream nearby for washing, and my men will be glad to do the deed while I make you both comfortable here with the fire and some drink. There are blankets aplenty to cover yourselves with until your clothes are dry.”

Julia exchanged wary glances with Niclas, but before either of them could speak, Steffan said, “Not shy, are we? What, with a blind man before you? How foolish. Why, Niclas,
cfender
, how could you—”

“Steffan.” Niclas cut him off. “Miss Linley is not a fool, and I know you would not make the mistake of taking me for one. You’ve one of Malachi’s drying powders here, do you not?”

Steffan frowned, and said, reluctantly, “I might.”

“Give it to me, then,” Niclas said, “and I shall see to the washing and drying of Miss Linley’s garments. She will stay here alone, and you and your men shall abide without the camp, guarding, until I call you back.”

Steffan was scowling now. “Are you suggesting that I should ever—”

“And then,” Niclas went on, “we shall enjoy the kind hospitality you’ve offered.
After
Miss Linley is fully dressed and perfectly comfortable.”

“You’re a cruel man,” Steffan muttered unhappily, “but for Miss Linley’s sake I shall make no argument, lest she think me a scoundrel.”

“I shall not think so, I promise,” Julia assured him. “I know you are a Seymour, sir.”

Niclas said, “That’s assurance of very little,” but Steffan brightened and replied, “Aye, and that I am, miss. A gentleman by birth, regardless of what my cousin may say of me.”

“I speak only the truth,” Niclas told him.

Steffan laughed and moved to the sideboard. “The truth is as fluid as water among our folk. Here is a sip of wine for you, Miss Linley, to warm yourself after we’ve gone. You’ll find blankets on the bed to wrap yourself in. They’re not grand, but they’re free of vermin, I vow. It’s the one thing I ask of all creatures and spirits, to leave my slumber in peace, for it’s terrible to be constantly waked with their play and nonsense.”

They left her after that. Julia undressed and, having wrapped herself demurely in one of Steffan’s blankets, set her things outside the leather flap. She heard Niclas on the other side, picking them up.

“This will only take a few moments,” he said, and then walked away. A long silence followed, broken now and then by the sound of Enoch and the other horses in their fenced area near the caves.

Julia drank some of Steffan’s wine and looked about the sparse dwelling, better lit now by three of the little white stones that Niclas had laid in various spots before he’d left. She touched one with a fingertip and was surprised to find that it wasn’t the least bit warm.

“Julia?” It was Niclas.

“I’m here.”

“I’ll lay your clothes where you set them. There’s no one here save me to see you retrieve them, and I’ll keep my back turned. Tell me when you’re dressed again and I’ll go down to the stream to wash my own things.”

Everything was wonderfully clean and perfectly dry; of all the magic Julia had encountered thus far on the journey, this was the most amazing. The fine cloth of her dress was neither damaged nor wrinkled. If possible, it looked as well as it had the first time she’d worn it some months before.

“If he weren’t a gentleman,” she murmured, running her hands over the material, “he’d make a wonderful laundress.”

The men shortly returned to the camp and Julia could hear them talking and laughing, Niclas’s voice markedly refined and measured against the jolly coarseness of the rest.

They were a merry party when Julia finally joined them a little while later. Steffan bowed grandly at her approach and introduced his men, all of whom seemed a little shy at having a woman in their midst. Niclas smiled and offered his arm to lead her to the fire they’d started in the center of the camp, and over which several rabbits were presently roasting, filling the air with a wonderful aroma.

A proper chair was brought for her to sit in and Steffan himself poured her a cup of wine.

“We’ve never had a lady visit with us before now, miss,” he said, sitting beside her on one of several wooden stumps arranged about the fire. “It’s a fine treat for us, i’faith.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mister Seymour,” Julia said truthfully. “My life has been rather dull before now. I shall recall my time here, and these past few days, with great fondness, I believe, once I’ve returned to London and resumed that placid life.”

He laughed. “Aye, there’s always something entertaining taking place among the Families. I never cease to be amused.”

“I do,” Niclas said from where he sat on Julia’s other side, a cup of whisky in his hand. He looked handsome and relaxed sitting among his own kind, his clothes newly cleaned and dried, his face freshly shaved and his black hair combed, and yet terribly weary all the same.

“Ah, well, you’ve always had trouble seeing the humor in our singular lives,” Steffan admonished affectionately. “I suppose, then, that we’d best talk about Cadmaran. Tell me everything,
cfender
, and then we’ll make our plan for getting Miss Linley safely to Castle Tylluan.”

Steffan’s men gathered around to listen as Niclas and Julia told what they knew of the earl of Llew and his present determination to wed Ceridwen Seymour. They listened intently, and when the telling came to an end Steffan asked, “Do you think he’s coming after you, then? Surely he would give up the idea of using Miss Linley as a hostage if regaining her would be so great a trouble.”

“One would think so,” Niclas agreed, “but Morcar Cadmaran is both stubborn and determined. Anger will drive him to be foolish and pursue us—I’m quite certain of it. The only thing I don’t know is when he’ll cross the border or what direction he’ll take. I can’t call on Malachi for aid, for he must keep Ceridwen safe. If I can get Miss Linley to Castle Tylluan, however, Kian might be able to keep the earl of Llew at bay.”

“That’s true enough,” Steffan said thoughtfully. “His powers are stronger than yours and mine, but he’s a far cry from being what either Malachi or Cadmaran are. Still, it might be enough. My men and I will come with you, of course, and lend our simple help.”

“That would be most welcome, cousin,” Niclas said. “I can ask no more than that.”

“Can you not?” Steffan said with a laugh. “You needn’t do so, much as you fear it. I shall ask it of myself.”

Niclas reached out a hand to touch his cousin’s knee, a brief but concerned gesture.

“No, Steffan. There’s no need for you to do so.”

“Do what?” Julia asked, looking from one man to the next.

“The reading of the bowl,” Steffan replied, an easy smile on his lips. “Niclas doesn’t want me wearing myself
out, but the effort will be of great help, I vow. I want to do it,
cfender
.”

Niclas looked deeply troubled. “I’ll stay with you, Steffan. Will that be all right?”

“Oh, don’t fuss over me like a nursemaid,” Steffan chided, and Julia thought she heard a hint of nervousness behind his cheerfulness. “Stay if you like, and if it will ease your mind. I’m always glad for a bit of company. My men will remain to guard Miss Linley. She’ll be safe in their care.”