The Tower of Ravens (53 page)

“But still he does no‘ want us to clear away the tree,” Iven said, pretending to smile as the gillie once more turned to stare at them.

“No. I wonder why?”

“Ye’d think he’d want to get rid o‘ us fast, once he decided it was too dangerous to kill us.”

“Happen he realises that we have begun to suspect him,” Lewen said. “Certainly they must ken Rhiannon saw something last night. They canna ken how much, surely.”

“We will need to be very careful. If he realises how much we already ken…”

“
Dai! Dai
! Look!” Roden called, and jumped with both feet into such an enormous puddle that brown water flew up everywhere, splattering them from head to toe.

“Roden!” Iven said in exasperation. “Look at ye, ye’re soaked! Your mama will be furious. Come here!”

He bent and brushed off the worst of the mud, then took Roden’s wet hand. Lewen took the boy’s other hand and between them they swung Roden back and forth, moving up the last stretch of road to where Cameron, Rafferty and the gillie waited for them, the gillie’s face hard with suspicion. Roden squealed with excitement.

“We must act as if we ken naught, suspect naught,” Iven said rapidly over Roden’s head. “And we must get a message to the Rìgh, just in case something happens…”

“But how?”

“The Scrying Pool at the Tower o‘ Ravens,” Iven said decisively. “The MacBrann used it during the Bright Wars. If the pool worked then, happen it still works now. Lewen, ye must go and see. We must think o’ some excuse. Take Roden, go tell Nina what we ken. Tell her to do whatever she must to soothe their suspicions. If the laird thinks we ken, we’ll never get out o‘ here alive.”

“Again! Again!” Roden cried, and they swung him high into the air.

“Ye are nothing but trouble,” Iven said to him as they came up beside the others. “Look at ye! Your boots are wet through. Your mother will have my head.”

Roden looked down at his boots in surprise.

“Lewen, will ye take this wicked laddie back to his mam? The last thing we need is Roden coming down with a chill.”

“Sure,” Lewen answered.

Roden was furious. “No! I dinna want to go back. I want to see the tree crash down.”

“No, laddie. It’s too dangerous, and I do no‘ want ye getting underfoot. Go on back to your mam.”

“No! I won’t!”

“Och, aye, ye will, my lad,” Iven said sternly. “Ye’re soaked through and it’s cold. Now do as I say.”

Roden began to cry. “No! I dinna want to! Please,
Dai
, I want to stay, please, please?”

“Nay, laddie. Go on back with Lewen now.”

“Come on, Roden,” Lewen said winningly, but Roden dragged his hand away and sat down obstinately in the middle of the road.

“I’m no‘ going!”

Iven jerked his head at Lewen, who bent and picked Roden up. “Never mind,” he said consolingly. “Let’s go and see what we can find for morning tea. I bet I can rustle up some hot chocolate for ye. That’ll warm ye up again.”

Roden wept noisily, squirming like an eel. Lewen carried him swiftly through the gatehouse towards the castle. As he went he heard Iven say to the gillie, “Bairns! Have ye any yourself?”

By the time they reached the inner ward, Roden had insisted on being put down so he could walk. “I’m no‘ a babe,” he said furiously.

“Then stop acting like one,” Lewen said, and Roden thrust out his bottom lip and stalked ahead with a great air of injury.

Looking white and unhappy, Nina was sitting with Lady Evaline under the apple tree, while Felice and Landon wandered along the lawn. Miss Prunella sat a short distance away, working on some embroidery. Nina rose at the sight of Lewen and her mud-splattered and highly indignant son.

“Roden!” she cried. “What’s wrong?”

“
Dai
willna let me stay and watch the tree crash down,” Roden said with a quivering lip and flung himself in his mother’s arms.

“Iven thinks it’s too dangerous,” Lewen explained, “and he was worried about Roden catching a chill. He was jumping in puddles.”

Nina looked rather puzzled. “Och, Iven doesna normally even notice things like that.”

“He doesna want Roden to catch a fever,” Lewen answered. “It does seem as if Laird Malvern is right when he says the air here is unhealthy.”

Nina glanced up at him, her brows twitching together. “Well, let’s go get ye dry and changed,” she said to her son, then cast a rueful glance down at her own gown. “And me too, now. Look at my skirt! I’ve got mud all over it.”

Lady Evaline had been gazing at Roden with a look of longing and now she reached out a frail, blue-veined hand to ruffle his curls. “Och, he’s such a bonny lad.”

Roden gave her a look of disgust. “I’m no‘ bonny, that’s for girls!” he retorted. “I’m doughty!”

“Indeed ye are,” Nina said with an apologetic smile at Lady Evaline. The old woman smiled back wistfully, her gaze returning to Roden’s face.

“A big doughty lad like ye must be hungry,” she said. “Would ye like to come and have tea with me when ye’re changed? My cook makes some very nice honey cakes.”

“Lewen said I could have hot chocolate,” Roden said winningly.

“O‘ course, the very thing to drive out the chill. Miss Prunella, could ye ask the kitchen to heat up some chocolate milk for Rory?”

“My name’s Roden,” he said crossly, the scowl returning.

“O‘ course. I’m sorry. I get muddled sometimes. For Roden.”

“O‘ course, my lady,” Miss Prunella said, folding up her embroidery and rising. She looked as if she had been sucking on a lemon, her face was so sour.

“I’ll come up with ye,” Lewen said to Nina. “As ye can see, I got rather wet too.” He cast a rueful hand down his mud-splattered clothes.

Felice and Landon had both drawn near and waylaid Lewen a few moments with questions about the fallen tree and what the others were doing. He escaped them as quickly as he could and hurried after Nina, who was climbing up the stairs hand-in-hand with her son, who was still very cross at being made to come back inside the castle. Thankfully there was no sign of the ubiquitous Irving, who was normally so careful to make sure they were escorted anywhere in the castle. He was able to tell Nina about the deliberately felled tree, and what conclusions he and Iven had drawn. She agreed that he must try to escape the castle and find the Scrying Pool at the Tower of Ravens.

“I tried to send my sunbird with a message but one o‘ the ravens killed her,” she told him unhappily. Lewen exclaimed, and she pressed her hands to her eyes.

“Aye, I ken. I loved my wee bird, I canna believe it happened. I should no‘ have tried to send her.” She let out her breath in a great sigh and blotted away another tear. “Anyway, what canna be changed must be endured. We must focus now on getting all o’ us out o‘ this blaygird castle alive. Lewen, I think Iven is right. We must get a message to the Rìgh and the Scrying Pool is the only way. Though how we are to do so without arousing any more suspicion, I do no’ ken,” she said. “They must no‘ guess what ye are about.”

“I’ll think o‘ something,” Lewen said. “How is Rhiannon doing?”

“She’s sleeping still. The fever does seem to have eased. Landon says Dedrie came to look in on her but went away again once she saw him sitting there. Edithe is there now. I thought poor Landon needed a break.”

But when Lewen opened the door into Rhiannon’s dim, fire-lit room, it was not Edithe he found leaning over her bed, but Irving. The seneschal swung round abruptly at the sound of the door and Lewen saw with horror that he held a pillow in his hands.

“What are ye doing?” he cried sharply.

“Just adjusting the young lady’s pillows,” Irving answered suavely, turning back to the bed.

“Get away from me!” Rhiannon cried, her voice rough and breathless. “Lewen, Lewen, he try… he put pillow on me… I couldna breathe… Lewen!”

Lewen came swiftly to the bed. Rhiannon gazed up at him, her eyes so dilated with terror they seemed black. Her cheeks were red and had faint creases pressed into them. Her breath came harshly.

“Get away from her,” Lewen hissed.

Irving looked surprised and stepped away from the bed. “I assure ye, the young lady is mistaken. She has been most feverish and I merely sought to make her more comfortable.”

“He try kill me,” Rhiannon gasped.

“Where’s Lady Edithe?” Lewen demanded, sitting beside Rhiannon and pulling her into his arms, stroking the damp tangled hair away from her face.

“The young lady was rather bored when I came to bring her some morning tea and I suggested she go down to the library to find herself a book to read. My laird has a very extensive library.”

Lewen was so furious he could not speak for a moment. Irving moved away, fluffing up the pillow and placing it on a chair nearby, looking as suave as ever.

Just then, Nina came in. “What on earth is the matter?”

“He try kill me,” Rhiannon said, her breath still coming short. “He put pillow on me, held me down so I couldna breathe.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Irving said, his colour altering just a little. “The young lady is delirious.”

“Oh no, has her fever got worse?” Nina asked in concern, coming across the room quickly. “She was quite incoherent this morning, but I had hoped… och, ye poor man! Ye must no‘ mind her.”

“No, he try kill me!” Rhiannon protested.

“Oh, dear, she really is quite crazy with this fever! What are we to do? She hit poor Dedrie, did ye hear? And Lewen too.”

Rhiannon shrank away from Lewen. “That’s right,” she said in a horrified voice. “I had forgotten… I thought it but a dream. Ye poison me too.”

“No, no,” Lewen said in distress, trying to draw her back into his arms. “We were trying to help.”

“Ye all try kill me!” Rhiannon stared from one face to another with huge, terrified eyes.

Nina shook her head sorrowfully. “Dedrie said the fever can take one like this sometimes, but it’s very distressing, isn’t it? Look at her, the poor deluded lass!”

Rhiannon clutched the sheet to her. “Why ye want kill me? Why?”

“Nay, nay,
leannan
. Ye’re safe, I promise ye,” Lewen soothed her, torn between his desire to comfort her and his dismay at having forgotten they were meant to be damping down the suspicions of any of the lord’s minions.

Rhiannon did not believe him. She sat very still, her breath coming fast, her eyes darting from one face to another. Lewen could see a pulse leaping in her throat.

“I am so very sorry,” Nina was saying to Irving, drawing him away from the bed. “I do feel dreadful. First Dedrie hit in the face, and accused so wildly, and now ye. I hate to think what the laird must think o‘ us. I do hope ye will forgive us. Rhiannon is… well, she’s difficult, there’s no gainsaying that. The best thing for her now is peace and quiet.”

Nina’s voice faded as she escorted Irving from the room. Lewen tried to draw Rhiannon back into his arms. She resisted violently.

“
Leannan
, no, do no‘ be afraid,” he said in distress. “Indeed, I ken what ye must think but it’s no’ like that. Ye must ken I would never hurt ye.”

“Ye made me sick,” she accused. “Ye poison me!”

“ ‘Twas no’ poison,” he protested. “We… we were trying to make ye better.”

She made a disgusted noise. “Go away,” she said, pushing him with her hot, damp palms.

“Rhiannon, indeed ye are sick. Please, lie back, let me sponge your face. I ken… he’s a bad man, that Irving, I ken that. It’s just we need to pretend for now… until we can get away from here…”

She listened to him, and after a while let him lay her back down, and smooth back her hair, and dab her face with the cool cloth. After a while her eyes closed and she fell asleep again. He sat watching her, feeling such a hot painful feeling round his heart it was as if the organ was actually bruised.

Nina came quietly back into the room. “Is she sleeping? Poor lass! I could strangle Edithe. What was she thinking, leaving Rhiannon alone like that?”

“Nina, he had a pillow over her face, I’d swear it!”

“I do no‘ doubt it,” Nina said. “We canna leave her alone. Maisie says she will come and sit with her a while now, she’s feeling much better after a sleep, well enough to sit up for a while anyway. I’m going to go and find Edithe and rip shreds off her!”

“I’ll sit with Rhiannon,” Lewen said.

“Ye canna,” Nina replied. “Ye must find some way to slip out and get to the Tower o‘ Ravens. Noon and midnight is the best time to use the Scrying Pool, or dawn and sunset, and I do no’ want ye there at night. I’m beginning to believe all those tales about malevolent ghosts that haunt the tower! So it’d be best if ye went now, and got there afore noon.”

Lewen nodded and got reluctantly to his feet, casting one last look at Rhiannon’s flushed and sleeping face. She looked soft and vulnerable. He marvelled how this had the power to hurt him. He would have liked to have lain down with her, and curved his body to hers, pressing his mouth to the arch of her neck. He did not want to wake her, though. He did not want to watch her flinch away.

The door opened and Edithe came in, absorbed in a thin, vellum-bound book she held in her hand.

“Where have ye been?” Nina at once exclaimed furiously.

Edithe looked up in surprise and chagrin. “I was only gone a minute!”

“A minute is more than enough,” Nina snapped. “And it was much longer than that. We’ve been here for close on ten.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I got chatting with Laird Malvern. He really is a very interesting man, so cultivated and so learned. His library is absolutely fascinating. I would have liked to have stayed and let him show me his collection, but I came hurrying back here because I kent ye wanted someone to sit with the satyricorn girl.” Her voice was filled with self-righteous indignation. “Really, I canna think why, ye all seem to have got infected with her hysterical nonsense…”

“Edithe, until we arrive at the Tower o‘ Two Moons, I am your teacher and mentor. If I tell ye to stand on your head in a graveyard all night ye do as I tell ye, without question and without hesitation.” Though she spoke softly, Nina’s voice had an edge to it like a whip. “I have never kent an apprentice with less o’ the qualities the Coven thinks necessary in a witch. Ye do no‘ listen, ye do no’ watch, and ye do no‘ learn. Sit down in that chair and do no’ move until I say ye may. And be glad your stupidity has no‘ had more dire consequences.”