Warrior of the Isles (15 page)
Read Warrior of the Isles Online
Authors: Debbie Mazzuca
Fallyn's betrothed slouched in his chair and eyed Syrena with unmitigated rage. His black gaze glittered like polished agate.
A deep rumble of laughter to Syrena's left drew her attention. “Do you really think your evil looks will have any effect on the woman, Broderick? It is said she eats men such as us for breakfast.” The rakish smile King Gabriel of England's Fae sent Syrena was lethal when combined with his beauty. He had the look of an angel, which considering how long he'd been king of England's Fae, was not surprising.
“Don't waste your time trying to charm her, Gabriel. She's not referred to as the Ice Queen for no reason.”
From the corner of her eye, Syrena noted the angry flush staining Morgana's cheeks. Certain her stepmother was about to explode, she quickly interceded, “As interesting as your observations may be, I thought it was a matter of grave importance for which we have been called before you.”
“You're right, Syrena, it is. Weâ”
“Want our women back!” Broderick slammed his fist on the table and it rattled with the force of his rage. The servant who filled the heavy gold chalices with wine gave a startled yelp and jumped back, spilling the contents onto Broderick. His hair and black leather jerkin saturated with the thick, syrupy liquid, he shook his head in disgust. “This is what happens when men are forced into the roles of women. Now make our demands, Rohan.”
No wonder Fallyn left him
, Syrena thought.
, Syrena thought.
“I was about to, Broderick. Morgana, Syrena, the exodus of our women to the Enchanted Isles must cease. Weâ”
“Cease . . . cease!” the raven-haired king bellowed. “No, they must be returned posthaste.” Broderick shot to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor.
“Syrena, no,” her uncle ordered as she was about to withdraw Nuie. “Broderick, sit, I will make this one last allowance to your conduct on account of Fallyn, but it will be the last.”
Slowly Syrena removed her hand from Nuie's hilt and focused on her uncle. “The women come to us because they've been mistreated. I think I can speak for both Morgana and myself when I say we will not force them to return simply because you find yourself in need of servants.”
The last thing Syrena wanted to do was turn the women away, but even she had to admit they grew overcrowded. And some of the women, if she was honest, quite a few, had left for no other reason than they felt unappreciated. While a part of her understood the sentiment, even sympathized, they couldn't go to war on account of it.
She raised her hand when once more Broderick shot to his feet. “To show our good intentions, from this day forward we will attempt to ascertain if a woman has just cause to seek sanctuary. If you would be patient, I am certain most of the women will return to their homes of their own free will.”
Morgana grabbed her sleeve and hissed, “What are you doing?”
Her stepmother had agreed to let Syrena do the talking while they were at court, but obviously she'd reached her limit. Syrena lowered her voice. “We cannot continue to go on as we are, Morgana. Our numbers are such that we can barely sustain those we have.”
“Princess Syrena is rightâover the last several weeks many of our women have returned. I say we wait. We cannot afford to allow this to come between us, not with the threat of war hanging over our heads,” Gabriel said reasonably.
“Who threatens us?” Morgana demanded.
“We have heard rumors that King Magnus and King Dmitri seek to join forces. Magnus because of his defeat at Syrena's hands, and Dmitri on account of Broderick stealing his wife.”
“Stole his wife?” Broderick snorted. “She was more slave than wife. He nearly killed her. You wouldn't treat an ogre as badly as he treated Shayla.”
Syrena glanced at the harsh lines of Broderick's profile. For all that he had hurt her friend, Fallyn never forgot how her betrothed had gone to her sister's rescue.
“I believe those incidents are little more than an excuse to come after our Hallows, and if not our treasures, the wizards who created them. Uscias, Morfessa, Esras, and Murias are in danger as well.” Rohan's gaze came to rest on Syrena. “The reputations of you and your women warriors precede you, my dear. We ask that if the time comes, you will join forces with us.”
Her uncle's request was testament to how far Syrena had risen in the Fae's esteem. She smiled. “Of course.”
Broderick's fingers curled around the chalice in a white-knuckled grip, and he lifted his gaze to Syrena. “But only if Fallyn does not ride with you. I will not see her harmed.”
“I'm pleased that you're concerned for Fallyn's welfare, King Broderick, but perhaps it would be best if you took the matter up with her. Although I doubt you will meet with much success. She's one of my finest warriors if that helps alleviate some of your worry.”
Her uncle silenced Broderick's dark mutterings with a firm shake of his head. “Thank you, Syrena. Now with that settled, there is another matter of grave import we must deal with. Gabriel, perhaps it would be best for you to explain it.”
The man's easygoing, flirtatious manner changed instantly, his sublime features drawn into a cold, expressionless mask. “Over the last month, five of my men have disappeared in the Mortal realm. There are rumors circulating that black magick is involved. I've used every means at my disposal to recover them, but as yet have been unsuccessful.” He stared darkly into his chalice.
Her uncle reached over and patted his arm. “We'll get to the bottom of it, Gabriel.” He nodded to two of the royal guards and they quietly left the room. “As a precautionary measure, the portals to the Mortal realm will be closed until further notice.”
“You may wish to give our people some notice, Rohan. Since our women are in short supply, my men have been taking their pleasure with the Mortals,” Broderick informed her uncle.
Syrena pressed a hand to her stomach to settle the nauseating roil. Were she and Morgana responsible for other Mortal women being at the mercy of Fae men intent on assuaging their lust? Even if they had to use magick to do so, as her father had done to Aidan and Lachlan's mother?
“You know my feelings on that, Broderick. If I find any of the Fae have used magick to seduce the Mortals, they will suffer the consequences.”
Her uncle was an honorable man, and he made Syrena proud to be his niece. She couldn't help but wonder how two brothers could be so different. Her uncle would have made a wonderful father, and she thought it sad he never married.
Broderick rolled his eyes. “As if they need magick to seduce the Mortals. The women cannot resist them.”
Syrena gritted her teeth. She'd had ample opportunity to witness Mortal women throwing themselves at a man simply because he was beautiful. Aidan and Lachlan were perfect examples. Remembering her own response to Aidan, Syrena thought she should refrain from passing judgment.
Her uncle withdrew his stern gaze from Broderick when the doors to the hall opened. He motioned for someone to enter. Morgana looked over her shoulder and released a horrified shriek. “What is
she
doing here? You harbor a viper in your midst, Rohan.” Her face mottled with rage, Morgana's nails dug into Syrena's arm. “Do something! She killed your father.”
she
doing here? You harbor a viper in your midst, Rohan.” Her face mottled with rage, Morgana's nails dug into Syrena's arm. “Do something! She killed your father.”
Her uncle, a hand to his brow, shook his head. “Evangeline did not kill my brother, Morgana. She is guilty of nothing. She looked after my niece's welfare at my behest, that is all. I have asked her here to share her insights into the matter before us. We must ascertain what we are dealing with in the Mortal realm. We need to learn if someone has one of the Grimoires and attempts to release the dark lord using the spells contained within the book. Although we can account for three of them, two are missing.”
Evangeline stood between Gabriel and Rohan. With her head bowed, her long, mahogany tresses shielded her expression from Syrena. She wouldn't look in their direction, and a wave of grief welled within Syrena. She missed her friend. Seeing her now brought back the depths of despair she'd felt when Evangeline abandoned her.
But Syrena understood how it felt to be the subject of the Fae's derision, and wished she could comfort Evangeline as she had so often comforted her.
“Then certainly Andora's daughter would be the one to ask since her mother stole a Grimoire to release the dark lords against Tatianna!” Morgana snarled low in her throat. “You may be fool enough to trust her, Rohan, but I'm not and I demand she stand trial!”
On the day her stepmother had first confronted Evangeline, Syrena had been helpless to do anything. She'd been overcome with grief, her mind in emotional turmoil. But she could do something now. Determined to protect her friend, she said, “Stop, Morgana. Evangeline did not kill my father. He named his murderer on the day he gave me the Sword of Nuada.”
Evangeline lifted her violet-blue gaze to Syrena. Her stepmother and uncle stared at her, open-mouthed.
Chapter 12
The hand at the back of Aidan's head shoved him beneath the blue-green water. Suffocated in its icy embrace, he twisted and turned in an attempt to break free. His lungs burned as though they were about to explode. He dug his fingers into the wood railing, and with a gurgled roar pushed off the side, sending the fool who attempted to drown him sprawling across the deck.
Aidan leaned against the rail and gasped for air. His breathing eased, and he shook his head like an overgrown seal. Shoving his hair from his face, he glared at Gavin.
“Bloody hell, have ye gone mad?” He lowered himself to the wooden planks. “Nay, doona answer, I already ken ye are.”
“Ha, ha, our laird makes an attempt at humor, Donald. Mayhap we should have tried to drown him a ways back. To be sure, he'd have been easier to live with.” Gavin pushed to his feet, his boots sliding through the puddles of water on the deck, and he landed with a thud on his arse. He scowled at Aidan. “And just so ye ken, ye were the color of the greens Beth is always tryin' to shove down our throats. I wasna about to have ye toss up yer accounts on board. Ye smell bad enough as 'tis.”
Aidan surreptitiously brought his soiled shirt to his nose and sniffed. 'Twas the truth, he was ripe. “Mayhap if ye allowed me to bathe before kidnappin' me, I wouldna offend yer delicate sensibilities.”
Gavin crawled over to Aidan and sat beside him. “Aye, and if we did, ye would have refused to come. Like ye did when we asked ye a fortnight ago, and the time before that.” He turned to Aidan, his expression pensive. “He's been gone too long. Somethin' is amiss. I ken things havena' been the same between the two of ye, no' since . . .” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Ye need to find him, Aidan. If anythin' happened to Lan, ye'd never forgive yerself.”
Aidan breathed in the salty sea air and looked out across the sparkling turquoise waters the midmorning sun danced upon. Gavin was right. Lan had been gone too long. He should have listened to his men when they first suggested he head to Dunvegan.
He scrubbed his hands over his face, his fingers snagging in his beard. Bloody hell, he hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd taken a blade to his face.
Gavin crossed his arms over his chest. “Aye, ye're a shaggy beast. 'Tis my hope yer cousin's wife will take ye in hand.”
“While the two of ye are yammerin', I'm doin' all the work. We're comin' in to shallow waters,” Donald informed them in a disgruntled voice.
Aidan pulled himself to his feet and leaned over the rail. Dunvegan was now visible to the right of the bow, perched above the loch, gleaming golden in the noonday sun. In the crystal clear waters below them, a trout wove its way through the rocks. “Sweet Christ, Donald, ye'll run us aground fer sure.”
Gavin, leaning over alongside him, nodded his head. “Over ye go, then.”
“What?” Aidan bellowed. “Are ye daft? The water is freezin' and we're almost a league from shore.”
Gavin shrugged. “Ye swim like a fish. Ye'll be fine. Besides, ye need a bath.”
“I'm no'â”
Splash.
The weight of his clothes dragged Aidan beneath the water. With a violent kick of his feet, he exploded above the surface. He treaded water and glared up at Gavin and Donald. “Ye wait until I get home. The two of ye will pay fer that.”
Gavin sniggered, wiggling his scrawny legs. “We're shakin' in our boots. Ye havena' trained in ages. We'd beat ye with one hand tied behind our backs.”
The icy waters caused Aidan's muscles to tighten. He couldn't waste his energy exchanging insults with the two fools hanging over the rails laughing at him. He cursed while he struggled to remove his boots, thinking the least they could've done was let him strip down to his braies before they tossed him overboard.
It took him longer than it should have to reach the shore. Gavin was right. They could beat him with
both
hands tied behind their backs. Dragging himself onto the rocks, he rolled onto his back. His heart hammered in his chest and his breath came in harsh gasps. Exhaustion turned his arms and legs to jelly, and he closed his eyes. He needed a wee rest was all. A brief respite before he faced his cousin Rory and his family.
both
hands tied behind their backs. Dragging himself onto the rocks, he rolled onto his back. His heart hammered in his chest and his breath came in harsh gasps. Exhaustion turned his arms and legs to jelly, and he closed his eyes. He needed a wee rest was all. A brief respite before he faced his cousin Rory and his family.
Aidan awoke with a start. He opened his eyes, his vision obscured by a heavy clump of rusty brown water weeds. Cursing, he pulled them off his face, spitting the stringy remains from his mouth. Two wee demons, one dark, one fair, stared down at him, their mouths agape.
Ewwhh.
Their terrified screams rent the air, and Aidan's ears.
Their terrified screams rent the air, and Aidan's ears.
“He's no' dead, Jamie. The creature lives,” the dark-haired one cried out.
“I'm no' a creature,” he growled, struggling to sit up. The piles of pebbles and sand he'd been buried beneath cascaded from his chest and arms.
“Jamie, he's gettin' up. He's goin' to eat us.”
“Nay, I'll no' let him, Alex.” The fair-haired demon whacked Aidan on the head with a long, blackened stick.
“Ouch! Stop that, ye little monster.” He lifted an arm to protect himself while trying to grab hold of his attacker's weapon with the other, but he was too fast for him. Aidan wrapped his arms about his head when the dark-haired one joined in.
Certain he heard a man and woman laughing not far in the distance, Aidan called out, “Help!”
“What the . . . Jamie, Alex, stop beatin' on yer Uncle Aidan.” He heard the distinctive rumble of laughter in his cousin's deep voice.
Aidan slowly lowered his arms, and glared up at Rory. “I should've kent the wee demons were yers.” He rose to his feet, shaking off the last of the rocks and sand. “And I'm no' their uncle. I'm their cousin,” he muttered.
Rory shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. “They only have Iain, so we made you an honorary one.” His cousin turned his attention to the wee demons, who whispered to one another. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “Now, apologize to yer uncle fer beatin' on him.”
Rory's wife, Aileanna, scrambled over the rocks. She frowned, then her eyes widened. “Aidan?” Looking from him to her sons, she asked, “Jamie, Alex, what did you do?”
“We didna ken he was our uncle, Mama. Right, Alex?”
“Nay, we thought he was a monster. He was goin' like this.” The wee brat mimicked a loud snoring sound.
“Aye . . . aye, and then he growled.”
No longer able to contain his mirth, his cousin howled with laughter.
“Rory!” Aileanna elbowed her husband in the side. But Aidan didn't miss the fact she bit the inside of her cheek and her bonny blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “I'm . . . I'm sorry, Aidan. Boys, apologize.”
Heads bowed, the two of them moved the stones in the sand with the toes of their boots. “Sorry,” they mumbled, peeking at him from beneath their long lashes as though they were a couple of wee angels.
The dark-haired one's eyes widened and he tugged on the sleeve of Aileanna's violet gown. “Mama, he looks like he's goin' to eat us,” he whimpered.
Rory angled his head. “You do look kinda fierce, cousin. Mayhap you can give them a wee smile.”
“Oh, fer the love of God.”
Aileanna slanted him an unamused look, her lips pursed.
“All right,” he grumbled and bared his teeth.
Their mouths dropped open. Squealing, they turned on their heels and ran.
“Alex, Jamie, be careful,” their mother shouted after them.
Shaking her head, Aileanna approached Aidan, reaching up on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, dear Lord, what did the boys douse you with?” She waved a hand in front of her nose. “I'll have a bath prepared for you, Aidan.”
Before she walked away, his cousin grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. “'Tis a shame our sons interrupted us. Mayhap later we'll take up where we left off,” he murmured.
Sweet Christ, now he knew why Iain chose to spend as little time at Dunvegan as he did.
Aileanna smiled up at her husband. “You may have missed your chance, darling.” She patted Rory's chest while stepping away from him. “My father and aunt have promised to come for a visit and I have much to do to prepare for their arrival.”
“Aileanna,” Rory called to her retreating back. “Aileanna, that's no' funny. Tell me yer jokin'. Aileanna!”
They heard her husky laugh over the gentle lap of the waves along the shore.
“She'd best be jokin'. The old goat was here only a fortnight ago,” his cousin grumbled.
“Ye and the MacDonald are as close as ever, I see.”
“Aye, 'tis lucky fer him I adore my wife and would do anythin' to make her happy. If I had my way, he'd be visitin' but once a year.” Rory drew his gaze from Aileanna and clapped Aidan on the back. “It's been too long, cousin. I almost didna recognize you.”
Aidan rubbed his bearded jaw as they walked along the beach toward Dunvegan. “Aye, it has.”
Rory glanced down at Aidan's bare feet then out over the loch. “Gavin and Donald throw you overboard?”
He grunted.
Rory laid a hand on his arm, forcing him to stop. “Somethin' is amiss. What is it?”
“Lan.” He lifted his gaze to the white, fluffy clouds scuttling above the verdant green of the treetops, unable to meet the concern in Rory's eyes. “He hasna' come home. 'Tis close to two months since he's been gone.”
Rory shook his head slowly. “I didna realize that much time had passed since he'd paid us a visit. He seemed fine to me, but Aileanna didna think so. She thought he appeared troubled.”
“Aye, well, we've had our differences of late. And I ken ye heard about the Lamonts.”
With a reassuring squeeze to Aidan's shoulder, Rory said, “Aye, a nasty business that, but doona ye worry, we'll find him. Once you've cleaned up, you, Fergus, and I will put our heads together.”
“Iain's no' about?”
“Nay, he and the McNeils put out to sea around the same time Lan stopped by.”
“He's doin' well, then?” Aidan asked as they neared the keep.
“Aye, better than well. The lad has made a small fortune in the venture.”
Mrs. Mac, his cousin's housekeeper, and Aileanna turned when they walked through the doors. “Och, I see what you mean.” The older woman wrinkled her nose and Rory's wife's cheeks pinked. “Come with me, Laird MacLeod, we'll have you good as new in no time.”
Aidan groaned at the determined look in Mrs. Mac's eyes.
Hours later, outfitted in a pair of his cousin's trews and a clean white tunic, Aidan entered the grand hall. He felt more like himself than he had in a long while. Mrs. Mac had rubbed his skin raw, but not entirely satisfied, she'd shoved him in a chair and went to work on his hair and beard. The woman was as stubborn as Fin on a bad day, and Aidan considered taking her back with him once he found Lan. 'Twould serve Donald and Gavin right.
Dunvegan was much changed. Evidence of Aileanna's feminine touch was everywhere; in the rich tapestries hanging from the walls, to the flowers gracing the delicate furnishings she'd added throughout. She'd turned the once austere keep into a homeâa stark contrast to Lewes. His grand plans for his own keep had never come to fruition. Repairs took coin, coin he did not have. Oh, aye, he still had the gold and silver
she'd
given him, but knowing it had come from the Fae, he refused to touch it.
she'd
given him, but knowing it had come from the Fae, he refused to touch it.
Rory waved him over from his place on the dais. Aidan frowned upon seeing the two wee demons sitting on either side of their mother and father. Had his cousin gone daft? Bairns were to eat in the nursery, no' with the adults. As he wound his way through the tables, he greeted several men who had fought the Lowlanders with them. Reaching the dais, he shared a word with Fergus then warily sat himself down beside the dark-haired demon. Alex, if he remembered correctly.
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