The Well of Shades (34 page)

The
travelers had arrived just in time for supper and, in anticipation of this, the repast was a fine one: pies of mutton and leeks, seethed fish, puddings with nuts and spices. Keother was seated on Bridei’s right, Breda on his left.

“All right, my lord?” Garth, standing behind Bridei’s chair, leaned over to address him in a murmur.

“Mm,” said Bridei. “Make sure someone brings news promptly.”

“Dorica’s maid has instructions to keep us informed. It’s early times yet.”

“Forgive me.” The king of Fortriu addressed his guests. “I’m a little distracted. We’re expecting a new arrival in the family before morning. Lady Breda, you may be pleased to know I’ve sent word to your sister of your visit here. I’m anticipating Ana and her betrothed will arrive within days.”

Breda turned a small, cold
smile on him. Her beauty had something unsettling about it; it seemed almost too perfect. Or perhaps it was simply the sense of both familiarity and unfamiliarity: she was so like her sister. “Oh, Ana,” she said. “It is so long since I saw her, I can hardly remember her.”

“She speaks fondly of you,” Bridei said. “I’m sure Ana will be delighted to see you again. And her cousin, of course.” He
gave Keother a polite nod. “She’ll be happy to introduce you both to Drustan. You’ll like him. He’s a fine man.” He’d leave Ana to explain her betrothed’s highly unusual qualities to her family.

“A chieftain of the Caitt,” observed the king of the Light Isles, glancing up from his fish. “And not the man you originally chose for my cousin, I understand.”

“His brother. It’s a long story, which
we’ll give you in due course. When the spring is further advanced, Drustan and Ana will be returning to his holdings in the north,
which are extensive. It’s likely they will be handfasted here at White Hill in the near future. My wife and I are delighted to have you with us for that joyful occasion.”

“I bet,” muttered someone from a lower table, causing Garth to grip his spear and scowl in the
general direction of the comment. There was no telling who had spoken.

“Time enough to discuss these matters when all are rested from the journey,” Aniel put in smoothly from his position on Keother’s right. “We hope you will be able to stay for some time.”

Breda looked at him, brows raised. “I imagine I may be here awhile,” she said. “Longer than my cousin, I expect.”

Keother shot her a warning
glance and she fell silent. An awkward pause followed.

“You enjoy hunting?” Tharan asked the royal guest. “We can offer opportunities here that will not be open to you at home, I imagine, since your isles lack forested areas. Later in the season there will be fine quarry farther down the Glen. I’m sure Talorgen would be happy to ride out with you.”

“Fishing, as well,” offered the dark-bearded
chieftain Morleo. “The trout in some of our more secluded lakes are of great size and uncommon cunning; they provide excellent sport.”

“Thank you,” said Keother. His light blue eyes bore a calculating expression; Bridei could see he was weighing up each speaker and each comment. “I would be more than willing to participate, as would my men, but my cousin does not much care for such sports. You
must find gentler occupations for Breda.”

“Several other women usually join us at the king’s table,” explained Aniel. “Tonight they are attending the queen as she gives birth. If you enjoy music, my lady, or womanly crafts such as weaving, you will find many compatible friends at White Hill.”

Queen Rhian was seated farther down the table; she leaned forward to catch Breda’s eye and smiled. “Lady
Breda, your sister is something of a scholar; I’m told she did very well during her time at Banmerren. And she shares my interest in fine handiwork. Ana’s embroidery is exquisite.”

Bridei recalled Ana as she had been on return from her journey north: lean, brown, her flowing hair cropped short, her manner turned from that of sensitive court lady to decisive, no-nonsense traveler. In company with
Faolan and Drustan, the royal hostage had witnessed murder, battled wolves, saved a man’s life at risk of her own. “You’ll find your sister much changed,” he said.

“Of course,” Tharan put in, “we can also offer an education superior to that generally available for girls. Banmerren provides tuition not only for future priestesses of the Shining One but for young women of high birth. Ferada, daughter
of our chieftain Talorgen, has recently instituted a new branch of that well-respected establishment. You will not be bored, Lady Breda. Indeed, we have both Ferada and the senior wise woman, Fola, in attendance at White Hill; they arrived here earlier today. They are with the queen now, as is my own wife. Dorica will ensure you are introduced to everyone tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Breda’s tone
was lukewarm. Whatever it was she needed for amusement, Bridei thought, it evidently hadn’t been mentioned yet. Perhaps he was being unfair. The girl was very young, and she’d had a long journey. Maybe she was simply tired.

It was one of the requirements of kingship that a man be able to conduct a conversation with powerful visitors, assessing each nuance of tone, noting each change in the eyes,
each movement of the hands, even when his mind was on other matters entirely. Bridei wanted nothing more than to stand outside Tuala’s door, to be told of any progression in her labor immediately, to be able to reassure her with his voice, even though the mysteries of childbed meant he would be denied admittance to his wife’s chamber. Kingly status made no difference to an
event that was so much
a women’s province. He worried. Tuala had not had an easy time of it with Derelei for she was slight of build and, although the infant had been small, her labor had been long. Elda had said it was sometimes quicker with the second one. He hoped that was so.

As soon as he could extricate himself from this supper and hand the care of the royal visitors over to his councillors, he would go to pray.
He would make a formal request of the gods, not the desperate clamoring that seemed to pour from his heart at such times, but a reasoned, courteous plea that Fortriu’s queen and her new infant be spared Black Crow’s touch. Measured; dignified; kingly. There would be no giving in to his emotions tonight. He could not afford that. Besides, there was nobody at White Hill before whom he was prepared
to reveal such weakness. Broichan had vanished. Faolan was away, Faolan who had witnessed more than one of Bridei’s dark times of doubt. To Tuala herself, should he be allowed to see her before the child was born, he must present a face that showed no trace of disquiet; his voice must betray nothing of his terror. All the same, Tuala would know what he was thinking. She knew him better than anyone.

“I had been hoping to see our kinsman Carnach here at White Hill,” Keother was saying. “I’ve met him before on several occasions and have been much impressed by his forthright manner. Is he expected for your gathering, my lord king?” He did not quite manage to conceal the fact that he knew this was an awkward question.

“I hope very much that Carnach’s commitments in the south will not prevent
his attendance,” Bridei said, phrasing his response with care. “I intend to acknowledge every chieftain who contributed to our victory last autumn. Carnach played a major part in it; he serves as my chief war leader. If he can be here, he will be.”

“After a season of conflict,” said Aniel, “our chieftains have pressing duties in their own territories.”

“All the same,” the king of the Light Isles
cast his pale blue gaze up and down the hall, “I see many are already in attendance here.”

“Indeed,” said Tharan smoothly. “But we have many days yet. Now that the season is more clement, travel should be easier for those located farther afield. Umbrig, for instance; you may not be aware that our Caitt ally stayed on in Dalriada as custodian of the captured king of the Gaels and chieftain of
the southwestern region. It’s a long distance, but we’re hopeful of seeing him here. And Carnach, of course.”

D
ERELEI’S PASSAGE INTO
the world had been long and difficult. His sister was in more of a hurry. With a circle of capable hands ready to ease her from her mother’s body, Anfreda arrived in such a rush that the midwife, Sudha, nearly dropped her. The child did
not complain; indeed, she was so quiet Sudha put a finger in her mouth, then dangled her upside down just to be sure she was breathing.

“She’s white as a ghost,” the midwife muttered, turning her head so Tuala could not hear. “Quick, pass me a blanket.”

Fola, who had known the queen of Fortriu for a very long time, remained unperturbed. “No cause for alarm, Sudha,” she said, reaching to fold
the infant in a length of fine woollen cloth. “Tuala, you have a healthy daughter. Hold her a little now, then I’ll take her to meet Bridei while Sudha deals with the afterbirth.” The wise woman’s eyes were very shrewd as she laid the tiny girl in her mother’s arms. Within the folds of the snug blanket, Anfreda’s face was a circle of flawless ivory. Her large eyes were open, their color so light
it could hardly have been called blue. The mouth was a tight rosebud, the little head fuzzed with dark hair. Anfreda bore none of the characteristics most newborns share: wrinkles, blotched
skin, temporary deformities of the skull after the tight passage out of the mother’s body. This infant was tiny, pale, perfect. A single glance would tell the least observant of people that she was descended
from the Good Folk.

Tuala smiled, wept a tear or two, kissed her daughter and relinquished her to the wise woman. “Take her to Bridei,” she said. “I know he’s just out there, worrying.”

Fola bore the precious bundle out into the anteroom, which seemed full of men, though in fact only four were present. Bridei’s companions for his anxious wait were his bodyguard, Garth, the chieftain Talorgen,
and Aniel, who was concealing a yawn as Fola entered the chamber. It had been a long day for all of them.

“Your daughter, my lord king,” the wise woman said, placing the baby in Bridei’s arms. “Tuala’s well; tired, of course, but cheerful. There were no complications.” Fola glanced around the chamber as the king cradled his daughter, murmuring to her. “Who was that?” she asked, looking at Talorgen.
“Was someone else here?”

“No, my lady.” Garth stood by the door, tonight fulfilling the dual role of king’s guard and companion. “Not that there weren’t more wanting to share the king’s wait, but Bridei said he was content with the three of us.”

“Odd,” said Fola. “I’m sure I saw someone. Out of the corner of my eye… Ah, well, perhaps I’m starting to show my age.” She would not tell them the
figure she had half-seen had been clad in garments of leaves and crowned with twists of ivy.

“You’ll never do that, Fola,” said Aniel. “You’re always a step or two ahead of the rest of us. Congratulations, Bridei! So it’s the girl Tuala expected.”

“I understand she’s to be named for your mother?” Talorgen bent to take a closer look.

“Anfreda, yes.” Bridei held the tiny girl as if she were a
basket of eggs, and he a little boy doing his best not to break them. He was beaming.

“Though, clearly, it is her mother’s side of the family
she favors,” said Fola drily. “If I ever thought Derelei fey of appearance, I take it back. Beside this scrap of a girl, your son seems all miniature warrior of Fortriu, Bridei. I’ll wager little Anfreda is the image of Tuala as a newborn.”

Bridei, who
long ago as a child had found Tuala on the doorstep of Broichan’s house when she was about the same size as this infant, nodded his understanding. “She’s so small,” he said. “I’d forgotten how small they are. When can I see Tuala?”

“Soon,” said the wise woman. “Let me take the child back; it’s warmer in there. Certain matters must still be attended to, but it won’t be long. Then you’ll all be
wanting your beds, I imagine. At this hour only martens and owls are astir.”

“You’d be surprised,” Aniel said, putting a hand up to screen another yawn. “Half the household’s still awake, waiting for news. I’ll perform that duty, then I’ll take your advice, Fola. I’m certain Tharan will expect me to be up bright and early to help him entertain our guests. I’d best attempt to be at least half
awake. Bridei, please convey my warmest regards to Tuala. This is joyful news.”

When he went out, Talorgen followed. They walked a little distance along the passageway and out to a secluded corner of the garden, where a torch still flared to light the path for anyone foolish enough to be wandering outdoors in the middle of the night. After a little, Fola emerged to join them, wearing a hooded
cape over her gray robe.

“Bridei is with his wife and daughter,” she said, casting a glance around the paved pathways, the neat plantings of lavender and rosemary. “There are plenty of skilled hands to do what must be done. I have a suggestion, before you share this news further.”

“I believe I can anticipate it,” Talorgen said. These three knew one another well; all had been part of Broichan’s
secret council, the council that had worked since Bridei’s childhood to ensure he would one day take
the throne of Fortriu. “We inform the household of the safe delivery of the king’s daughter. We let them know the name: Anfreda, a fine old Priteni name, demonstrating Bridei’s love for his mother and reminding folk of his impeccable bloodline. We advise them that, as mother and infant had a difficult
time of things, neither will be receiving any visitors other than the queen’s personal attendants and friends for the foreseeable future. We don’t say this ban will continue until certain guests are gone from White Hill; to maintain it so long would arouse more distrust than putting this extremely unusual infant on show might do. However, we’ll keep her out of sight until we get more of an
idea of why Keother’s here.”