Shadows and Light (35 page)

Liam stared at his butler. “She left? My mother left and took Brooke with her?” Sickness twisted his belly. Hadn’t she trusted him to at least
try
to do what was right?

“I can only guess that there was something in the letter that upset her greatly,” Sloane said.

“Did she leave no word for me about where she was

going?”

“No, Baron. But —”Sloane gave Padrick another uneasy look.

Fear sharpened Liam’s temper. He felt the heat of it under his skin. “Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of Baron Padrick,” he snapped.

“The stallion has been fretful the last few days,” Sloane said cautiously. “Refused to enter his stall one evening, and even Arthur couldn’t control him.”

No matter how valuable Oakdancer was, right now he didn’t give a damn about the horse. He wanted to know about his mother and sister.

“The day Lady Elinore left, Arthur took Oakdancer for a run to see if he could calm the animal. He came back without the stallion, saying the horse was easier staying where he was — and he said he saw Lady Elinore and Miss Brooke there as well.”

There was only one place the stallion would feel easier — the Old Place. He suddenly appreciated Sloane’s efforts to tell him where Elinore and Brooke had gone without actually saying where they had gone.

“Don’t allow any strangers in the house,” Liam said. “No matter who they say they are or why they say they’re here, don’t let them in. Send a message to Squire Thurston to be wary of strangers, especially men. Tell him to pass that message along to the magistrate. I want to be informed of anyone coming to the village.”

“Yes, Baron. I’ll send the message right away.”

“Come on,” Liam said to Padrick. He dug his heels into his horse’s sides, urging the tired animal to canter. It didn’t occur to him until they were riding down the lane that led to the bridge that he should have offered to let Padrick stay at the manor.

When they reached the bridge, Padrick thrust out an arm that would have knocked Liam out of the saddle if he hadn’t reined in sharply.

Padrick urged his horse forward, ahead of Liam’s, and stopped just before his horse’s hooves touched the bridge. He studied the stones and tall grass on the opposite bank.

“Blessings of the day to you, lady sprite,” Padrick said.

Liam clenched his fists, impatient to find his family. Then he saw the small woman rise up out of the water and wondered if the fever dreams had returned.

“Blessings of the day,” the sprite replied warily. “Fae Lord.”

Padrick nodded. “My friend’s family is visiting the Daughters in the Old Place.”

“We know his face. He has crossed the bridge many times lately.”

A water sprite. He was actually
seeing
one of the Small Folk. And they’d
watched
him every time he’d crossed the bridge to visit with Breanna and her family? “Has anyone else crossed the bridge recently?” he asked.

“Many,” the sprite replied. “But none who do not belong here.”

“You’ve seen no one else?” Padrick asked.

The sprite looked thoughtful. “Four men. They came to the edge of the Old Place farther upstream but did not cross into it. But they drew on the power here, and those who were nearby said that when they released the power again there was a…wrongness…to it. Then they left. We don’t know where. We don’t go beyond the boundaries of the Old Place.” She tipped her head. “Were they Black Coats?”

“What do you know about the Black Coats?” Padrick demanded.

“The Bard warned the Daughters about them, and the Daughters asked us to watch, to give warning if they crossed into the Old Place. But the Black Coats did not enter, so we did no harm.”

“The Bard?” Padrick said.
“The
Bard?”

“He and the Muse crossed the bridge many days ago. But they did not leave by the bridge. You will have to ask the Daughters where they went.”

“Thank you,” Padrick said. His horse crossed the bridge.

Liam followed, feeling a little stunned. As soon as he could, he urged his horse forward until he rode beside Padrick.

“That…that was one of the Small Folk,” he said.

“Do you think the witches here will talk to me?” Padrick asked. “I’d like to know what the Bard might have told them about the Inquisitors.”

“The Bard. You actually think the Fae Lord of Song was
here?”

“The water sprite said he was.”

A few days ago, the Fae had been nothing more than stories. Now he’d spent several days traveling with a man who looked human but was actually a Fae Lord, had seen one of the Small Folk, and had been told that
the
Bard had visited here. Maybe it was all the fever dreams he’d had that made this seem … normal … in an extraordinary kind of way.

“This is an Old Place,” Liam said.

Padrick grinned, which only made him look more exhausted. “Laddy-boy, I knew this was an Old Place before I crossed the bridge. For one thing, I could
feel
the difference in the land. For another, the Small Folk don’t live anywhere else.”

“Why did she call the witches ‘daughters’?”

“Witches are the Mother’s Daughters. I guess you could say they are the Great Mother’s hands, heart, and eyes.”

Before Liam could ask anything else, a hawk screamed. He looked up, saw the bird diving toward them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Padrick’s face change so that he looked like a Fae Lord.

With another scream that sounded a bit surprised, the hawk broke off its attack, circled them twice to get a good look at Padrick’s face, then flew toward Breanna’s house.

“What was that about?” Liam said, soothing his startled horse.

“That was a Fae Lord who, apparently, didn’t like seeing two men riding toward the ladies’ home.”

“A Fae Lord. I didn’t know there were any Fae around here.” And he wondered what Breanna’s reaction had been when she’d found out. He was certain she would have an opinion about Fae showing up on her doorstep. She had an opinion about everything.

“Didn’t you?” Padrick said, something odd in the tone of his voice. His face changed so that he looked human again.

The next obstacle was a wall of armed men standing in front of the archway that led to the outbuildings behind Breanna’s home.

Feeling the strain of a full day’s ride, and impatient to see his mother, Liam was less than tactful. “Who are you?” he said sharply. “What’s your business here?”

Not the best way to approach armed men, especially when two of them had bows drawn and aimed at him and Padrick and two others had crossbows.

“Who are
you?”
one of them demanded.

“That’s Baron Liam,” another man said, stepping up behind the armed men.

“You’re Rory,” Liam said, recognizing Breanna’s cousin. “Tell these men to let us pass.”

“You know him?” one the men asked Rory.

“He’s the baron,” Rory said. “Don’t recognize the other one.”

“If he’s the
baron
, why should we let him pass?”

A window shot open with enough force that Liam started hoping the startled men had a good hold on the arrows pointed at him. Breanna leaned out the window.

“Rory, you featherhead, let them in,” Breanna said testily. She ducked back inside the room.

The men lowered their weapons and stepped aside.

Liam’s heart pounded, but he noticed Padrick looked like he was fighting not to grin as they rode through the arch.

“What?” Liam said. “My wife would like her.”

Mother’s mercy.

Clay took their horses, giving them both a considering look after seeing Padrick’s Fae horse.

For a place that usually seemed to have too few people, now Liam thought there were too many. Children who had been playing catch with a cloth ball a moment before they rode in now stared at them, too watchful. Idjit, naturally, was still focused on the ball and hadn’t yet noticed the addition of two men and horses. Mother’s tits! The hawk was a better watchdog than the dog!

Elinore burst out of the kitchen doorway and ran toward him, Breanna following more slowly.

Liam’s arms went around his mother, holding her as tightly as she held him.

“Liam,” Elinore said, her voice breaking. “I’m glad you’re home. So glad.”

“Mother, what’s happened? Why —?” No, he wouldn’t ask why Elinore was at the Old Place, not with Breanna looking so strained, as if she’d been fighting against grief.

“Was anything said at the barons’ council? Was there any news?”

Liam brushed stray hairs away from his mother’s face. “Why did you leave our home?” he asked quietly.

“I got a letter from Moira, and I was too frightened to stay at the estate while you were gone.”

“From —”No. His father had trained him to have that reaction whenever Elinore mentioned her cousin Moira. It didn’t have to be —
wouldn’t be
— his reaction.

“Liam, have you heard anything about her village?”

“No, I…” Liam looked at Padrick, who shook his head.

“Let him read the letter, Elinore,” Breanna said. “It might make sense to him then.”

“Yes, of course. It’s in my room. I’ll get it.” Stepping away from Liam, Elinore ran back into the house.

Liam took a step toward Breanna. “Who are all these people?”

“Kin,” Breanna replied, brushing her dark hair away from her face. “They ran from the eastern barons and the Black Coats. The elders in the family stayed behind to cover their tracks, to hide that so many were gone. And now that we know what might have happened to them…”

Liam caught her arms as she swayed.

She glanced at Padrick and stiffened.

“This is Padrick, the Baron of Breton. He helped me get home.” Liam forced a smile, hoping to ease her tension. “He’s not a featherhead.”

“At least not in this form,” Padrick muttered — which made Liam wonder about the hawk he’d seen at times when they’d had to rest for an hour.

Breanna narrowed her eyes. “You’re Fae? You’re a Fae Lord
and
a gentry baron?”

Padrick gave her a small bow. “At your service, Mistress…”

“Breanna.” Her eyes narrowed even more. “You don’t have a sudden urge to go out and catch a rabbit, do you?”

Padrick glanced up. Following his gaze, Liam saw the hawk soaring overhead, watching everything below it.

“No, Mistress Breanna, I have no urge to hunt rabbits at the moment. Although, to be fair, he could hardly bring you a deer.”

“He doesn’t do too well with salmon, either,” Breanna muttered. “But he tries.”

Padrick chuckled. Liam wished he understood what was so amusing.

Then Breanna rested a hand against his face. “You’ve been ill,” she said.

“I…” Liam took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “I was poisoned.”

She paled so much, Liam wondered if she was going to faint.

“Poisoned? Why?”

“He spoke out in the council meeting against the eastern barons and the Inquisitors,” Padrick said.

“I would have died if it wasn’t for Padrick’s help,” Liam said.

“Mother’s mercy,” Breanna whispered.

“Perhaps you should sit down, Mistress Breanna,” Padrick said gently.

She shook her head. “No. But the two of you should. Why don’t you sit under the tree there? I’ll bring you some ale.”

“You don’t need to —,” Liam said, but Breanna was already turning away and walking toward the house. He took a step to stop her, but Padrick’s hand on his arm held him back.

“She needs to do something useful,” Padrick said. “And you really do need to sit down.”

They walked to the bench under the tree.

“Breanna is my sister,” Liam said, settling on the bench. “My half sister. My father”

“You don’t have to explain.”

Breanna returned with tankards of ale. She handed one to each of them, then held out the letter to Liam. “Elinore is resting. She’s frightened, Liam. We all are.”

“Breanna”

“Read the letter. Perhaps then you’ll be able to tell her something that will ease her mind.” Breanna walked away.

Padrick took a sip of his ale, then stood up. “This is a private matter. I’ll —”

“No,” Liam said. He set his tankard on the bench. “I’d appreciate your opinion. And, obviously, this letter has been read by others, so whatever Moira wrote to my mother wasn’t private in that way.”

When Padrick settled on the bench beside him, Liam opened the letter.

Dearest Elinore
,

I know my last letter must have hurt you when I told you so brusquely not to write to me again because I didn’t want to hear from you anymore. I did want to hear from you, more than you can know, but I was afraid your letters might draw too much attention from the baron who rules my village and that you might suffer for it. I decided to tell you not to write because I was afraid, for both our sakes, of what you might say or the questions you might ask, and I couldn’t write to you. But this letter will be my last, so I’ll tell you all the things I haven’t been able to say
.

I have guests tonight, a young couple, recently wed, who are fleeing the eastern village where they had lived, hoping to get far enough west to escape the madness that has come over the barons here and has turned our lives, women’s lives, into a barren nightmare. I have hidden them, given them food and a place to rest for a few hours. I gave them your direction, and I’ll give them this letter in the hope that it reaches you. I wouldn’t send them to you if your husband still lived, but I think Liam has too much of you in him to be a man like his father. I hope with all my heart that is true
.

We are less than prisoners now, Elinore. Less than slaves. Less than the animals men use. We are domestic labor who clean men’s houses, cook their food, wash their clothes. And we are the whores they use when they want sex. That is what the baron’s decrees have turned us into. We cannot work to earn a living for ourselves. We cannot express a thought or opinion or feeling that disagrees in the slightest way with what the men who are in charge of us think or say or feel. If we
do, we are punished — sometimes publicly, sometimes privately. I’ve endured both. They are equally brutal. Even when the punishment doesn’t do much harm to the body, it rapes the soul. Of course, the men call it discipline, the necessary force required to make us modest women who will not become the Evil One’s servants
.