The Well of Shades (65 page)

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Authors: Juliet Marillier

BOOK: The Well of Shades
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B
REDA HAD FOUND
the perfect place. Bridei’s stronghold was well maintained, with a substantial number of folk to keep everything in working order. One would constantly come across people mending thatch or oiling hinges or fixing pumps; not much was forgotten or neglected, nor was there any wasting of space. But she’d
found what she needed in a corner down a narrow way below the quarters Keother’s party occupied. Exploring one day when she was terminally bored, she’d seen the door and expected a dungeon or torture chamber or other exciting discovery. The place was shut up with a heavy chain through a hole in the door and around a post. The fastening had been moved around to the inside, safe from prying fingers.

Breda had small hands; she was often complimented on their daintiness. It had been a simple matter to ease the thing open and slip inside, then loop the chain
loosely shut behind her. A narrow chamber lay within, lit dimly through a low opening at the foot of the outer wall, a space hardly large enough for a cat to use. Perhaps that was why the gap had not been blocked up; no invader was going
to get in here unless he stood only knee high. In the chamber was a well. A dry well; Breda had tested it with an amber bead she had in her pouch, from a broken necklace she intended to ask one of her handmaids to restring. She’d heard it land, after a little, not with a splash but with a minuscule thud. She understood why the narrow space had been chained shut. The well rim was low, barely two handspans
off the ground, and the place was so dim it would be all too easy to fall in. Especially for a child. Children were easy to lure, even peculiar ones like what’s-his-name.

The idea took form in her mind. Any little story would do it, a lost kitten, a treasure accidentally let drop… Would this be deep enough? She crouched to peer down, but it was too dark to see. It was perhaps three or four times
a tall man’s height. A fall might achieve a fair bit of damage. Would he make a noise? Maybe that wouldn’t matter. This was quite an isolated corner of White Hill. It seemed to Breda that, with the heavy door closed and chained again, the cries of a little child were unlikely to penetrate far. Of course, the fall might actually… No, she wouldn’t think of that or she might lose her nerve. This
wasn’t about the boy, it was about Eile. If Eile let this happen, she didn’t deserve her position of trust. That was simple truth.

The opportunity came earlier than Breda had expected. The day after Faolan returned to White Hill, Eile was out and about with the two children, Saraid and the boy. She wasn’t staying in her usual haunt, the queen’s garden, with Dovran hanging about, but wandering
around all over the place. They seemed to be playing a kind of game, with the children hunting and making a collection of things, a feather, a white pebble, a dead moth. Disgusting. Breda watched them surreptitiously as they made progress
around the general garden, the small upper courtyard, the steps down to the passageway by Eile’s own quarters. Own quarters: that in itself was an irritant.
Why was it the little Gael and her offspring got housed in the chambers once allocated to Breda’s own sister, a woman of the royal line of the Light Isles? Eile should be in the kitchens scrubbing pots and pans. She should be in the stables forking dung. No, she should be gone. The Gael should not be here at all.

“Eile!” Breda stepped out from behind a pillar, greeting the three of them with
an exclamation of surprised delight. “How good to see you! I was hoping you’d forgiven me for being so churlish the other day. I was disappointed, I confess, but not so much that I couldn’t understand your reasons for saying no. You look different today. You seem… happy.”
And it had better be your boring Faolan who’s put that look in your eye, because if it’s Dovran, believe me, wretch, it’ll
be short-lived
.

“It’s a fine day,” Eile said. “That’s enough to make me happy. I’m glad I’m forgiven.”

“Why don’t you bring the little ones along to my quarters for a visit? It would help pass the time. I have some sweetmeats.” She saw the look in Saraid’s eye; food always worked.

“Oh, well, we were on a kind of expedition,” Eile said. The other child hung back, trying to hide in the shadows.
Too bad, thought Breda, if he did not care for her. The feeling was entirely mutual.

“That sounds serious. Explorers need sustenance. Why don’t we pack the sweetmeats up in a cloth and take them to eat out of doors somewhere? Come on!” Breda held out a hand to Saraid; the little girl took it—she was a lot more trusting than the other one—and they headed off for Breda’s quarters.

It was not easy
to collect what she needed and get out without a bevy of girls in attendance. All the handmaids wanted to make a fuss of Saraid, who did look sweet in
her rose-colored gown. They gave her a ribbon to put on her hideous scrap of a doll and another for her own hair. It was Eile who got them out, saying Derelei was becoming tired and they should be thinking of going back.

The next part would need
careful timing. How would she snatch a moment on her own with the boy, who clung so close to Eile, right by her skirts? Or could she actually do it with Eile present, and make it look like an accident? Even if Eile saw, who was going to believe her over Breda? Hearing the account of it, the king and queen must recognize instantly how flawed their judgment had been to entrust their son to a virtual
stranger, and a Gael at that.

“Oh, don’t go yet,” she said as sweetly as she could. “We haven’t had our treat. Bring the bundle, Saraid. I have something very interesting to show you. A secret place. I only just found it myself. Come and see; it’s down here.”

“I don’t think—” Eile began, but Saraid trotted ahead at Breda’s side and, short of grabbing her daughter and pulling her back, there
wasn’t much she could do.

Breda unfastened the chain, eased open the heavy door, and went in, Saraid beside her. “Careful,” she warned; if the little girl fell first, there would be no way of making this work. “Come, sit down here, Saraid. You can unwrap the sweetmeats if you like.”

“Breda.” Eile’s voice was sharp; she stood in the doorway, eyes still adjusting to the dim light within the narrow
space between inner and outer walls. “This doesn’t look a very safe place—come, Saraid, Derelei—”

The weird little boy was beside her. Now he would wander across, curious, and Breda would give one quick, sharp push, and…

Derelei moved so fast none of them had time to stop him. He was across the chamber and out through the tiny space at the foot of the wall before Breda could suck in a startled
breath. Out. Outside the wall, by himself.

“Derelei!” shouted Eile, flinging herself across the
chamber and down to peer through the little gap. “Derry, come back! Oh, gods… Saraid, come here, quick! I can’t see him at all, can you see where he went? Breda, we have to fetch help!”

Saraid crouched down by her mother, looking out to the sloping hillside, the deep shade under the thickly clustered
pines that cloaked White Hill below the fortress walls. “Derry’s gone,” she pronounced.

“Don’t fuss,” Breda said, her heart racing with excitement. The plan had changed. The new one in her head was even more thrilling. “He’s little; he can’t have gone far. You can go up and fetch Dovran, can’t you? Send him out and the queen need never know—”

“Don’t be stupid!” Eile jumped to her feet. “Of course
I must—”

Breda lifted her hand with the bunched-up chain in it and struck the Gael on the temple, hard. Eile had obliged her by standing in the perfect position. Her green eyes went wide with shock and she crumpled neatly into the well.

Saraid stood immobile, clutching her wretched doll, eyes round.

“What are you staring at?”

The child took a step back.

“It’s all right,” Breda said, realizing
there was an element in this new plan that she had not fully thought out. “Come here, Saraid. Come closer. Nice sweetmeats.”

The child backed farther, until she was pressed hard against the outer wall.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.” Breda tried to put honey in her voice, but it wasn’t coming out right. She saw the terror in the big brown eyes. “Come on, poppet. Come here.”

Saraid crouched,
backed, wriggled out through the hole in the wall. She did not flee like the other one, but stood just beyond. Breda could hear her sniffing.

“All right, then!” Breda called through the tiny aperture. “Go, if you want. Go and look for your little friend.
I’m sure he’s out there somewhere; you’ll find him just down the hill.”

Saraid began to wail. Gods, it was loud! How was it tiny children had
such big voices?

“Hold your tongue!” Breda hissed. “I mean it! You make a noise, you say one single word about this, and your mother will never, ever come back! Do you understand me, Saraid?
Don’t tell anyone
. If you want to see your mama again, stop that noise
right now!”

The crying subsided to a woeful sniveling; the child was still visible through the chink, a swathe of pink skirt, a pair
of small feet in kidskin boots.

“Go on, now! Find your little friend! And don’t forget, no telling
or else.”

The boots moved, running, running away. All was silent, save for the thudding of Breda’s heart, the thrill of her blood coursing, the gasp of her breathing. She’d done it. She’d done it so neatly she could hardly believe her own cleverness.

She did not look into the well. What was there
might be unsightly. She slipped through the door then fastened the chain anew, rotating it so the closure lay inside the shadowy chamber. She made sure nobody was around before making her way not to her own quarters but up to the general garden. There she found a bench under a wild rose heavy with buds, and sat down where nobody was likely to see her. Farther up, Dovran was pacing up and down
at the margin between this garden and the smaller one; through the screening fronds of a rosemary bush she could watch him unseen. She unwrapped the sweetmeats and selected one. Then she let her imagination run free.

16

I
T WAS AN
odd sort of day. Faolan decided early that, if he let his thoughts linger too much on Eile and on what was to come, the time would pass unbearably slowly. Better to try to establish some rapport with this keyed-up boy and do what he was best at: performing the mission Bridei had entrusted to him.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that today
was a last chance; perhaps it was all in the way Faolan asked his carefully chosen questions. At any rate, by the time they reached the open ground near the shore where the unfortunate hunt had taken place, the boy had revealed that the item they were looking for was a small, sharp thing, a pin or knife.

“Something that was used to goad the mare,” Uric mumbled. “I thought I saw a flash of metal
at the time. I went to the stables to check, after we came home, but the horse was covered with scratches; there are bushes and rocks all over that area she crossed. There was no way of picking out a single injury.” He had not yet said whom it was he suspected, and Faolan had not asked.

“Mm-hm,” Faolan said, thinking the theory, though tenuous, was not far-fetched.

They tethered their mounts
beneath a shady tree. Ban stood by Faolan, awaiting instructions. Uric had brought a piece of red cloth, perhaps a lady’s scarf, as a scent for the dog. He held it for Ban to sniff.

“You’re in charge,” Faolan said to Uric. “I gather you’ve already searched the area quite thoroughly, but not with dogs. Where do we start?”

“Up here first, where we were gathered with our birds. Then down in that
direction, toward the water. That’s where the mare went, and the king and Dovran after her.”

No mention of Breda by name. That alerted Faolan to a possible reason why the boys had kept this so quiet. One did not accuse a royal personage of ill-doing without good proof. “It’s been raining,” he said. “And it’s a long time since this happened.”

“I heard Ban has… uncanny abilities,” said Uric. “I’m
hoping that’s true. Otherwise I’d have asked for one of the king’s hunting dogs.”

“All we can do is put him to the test.” Faolan gazed down the tree-scattered slope to the marshlands by the shore, and across the broad expanse of undulating ground studded with clumps of vegetation and great stones. It was a big area to search in one day.

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