Read Warrior of the Isles Online
Authors: Debbie Mazzuca
Warrior of the Isles (31 page)
At Callum's mention of the twins, the thought of all she had lost came crashing down upon her. By the time Connor came to say good-bye, her fragile control over her emotions had snapped. Silent tears streamed down her face.
Connor shook his head. “I thought ye were a warrior, Lady Syrena. I'm sorely disappointed in ye.”
“What do you mean?” She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands.
“'Tis obvious ye love the laird, and just as obvious he loves ye. Why doona ye fight fer him?”
“He's made his decision, Connor. He doesn't want me. I don't know how to fight that.”
He jerked his head to where Aidan stood with Samuel, Bess, and Davina. “I think ye do. Besides, what harm could it do when he means to lose all memory of ye.”
Syrena didn't know if Connor was right, or if she could do anything to stop Aidan from wiping her from his memories, but there was one thing she had to do. A promise she'd yet to fulfill.
She lifted her hand to her crown then let it drop before she removed it. She would no longer pretend she was anything other than who she was. Princess Syrena, a Fae princess, inept at magick, not as powerful or as strong as everyone imagined, but none of that mattered anymore. If she didn't accept who she was, how could she expect anyone else to? She'd heard every tortured word Lachlan said to Aidan. Her brother had done the same as she did and look where it got him.
“Lady Hamilton,” she said quietly when she reached the edge of the woods.
The woman cowered beside Aidan. “I doona wish to speak to ye. Ye're Fae. Ye're responsible fer my husband's death.”
“Davina,” Aidan said sharply. “Syrenaâ”
“I can speak for myself, thank you. I wasn't responsible for your husband's death, Lady Hamilton. Two Mortals were. Nor was I responsible for what was done to you or Lachlan. Again, that would be Mortals. If this night has showed anything, it is that Mortals have a greater propensity for evil than the Fae. But that is not what I came to speak to you about. I made a promise to your husband. He wanted you to know that he loved you. With his dying breath, he sought to ensure your rescue.” She wasn't certain the woman deserved John Henry's love, but it wasn't for her to judge. She'd done what she'd set out to.
She turned to walk away then bowed her head, swallowing her pride. She had made a promise to herself, and no matter how difficult it was to keep, she would. “Aidan, may I speak with you a moment?”
“Aye.” He set Davina aside and took a wary step toward Syrena.
“Earlier today I made myself a promise. With everything that's gone on, it's not an easy one to keep, but as you have decided to wipe me from your memory, I thought . . . well, I thought you should know.” She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering, blinking back tears before she raised her gaze to his. “I love you, Aidan. I love you with every fiber of my being, and I always will. Iâ”
He cursed and closed the distance between them in one powerful stride, crushing her to his chest. “Why, Syrena, why are ye doin' this to yerself?” he rasped in her hair. He drew back. Powerful fingers biting into her shoulders, he shook her. “I love ye. Do ye hear me? I love ye. I love ye too much to risk doin' to ye what I did to Lan.”
“Butâ”
“Nay, I won't change my mind. Yer uncle is right. Ye deserve someone who will love ye without conditions. Someone who doesn't make ye feel as though ye're less than perfect just the way ye are. Take a good long look at Lachlan, Syrena, and see what I've done to him. Ask him if I'm the man fer ye. He'll tell ye I'm no'.”
Aidan was right. She did deserve to be loved that way. And she held out hope that one day, after he'd had time to think things through, he would be able to. But if he had no memory of her, of them, he took away any chance of that happening.
Evangeline walked toward them. She took one look at Syrena and came to an abrupt halt.
Frantic at the thought of losing Aidan forever, she clutched his shirt. “Aidan, no, please don't do it. Don't take away your memories of us.”
He cupped her face with his big hands and gently kissed her. “'Tis the only thing I can do.”
Heavy hands came to rest on her shoulders. “Syrena, come away,” her uncle said, taking her sobbing into his arms. “You truly love him, don't you?” he asked as he led her away.
She glanced over her shoulder, barely able to see Aidan through the cloud of her tears. He had his back to her now, talking to Evangeline. “Yes, I love him so much I don't know how I can go on without him.”
“You're strong, you'll find a way. I'll help you. It is why he does what he does, Syrena. It's the only way he can think of going on without you.” A fountain of sparkling light washed over them.
Chapter 27
Aidan folded his arms over his chest and leaned against a boulder on the rocky shores of Dunvegan. A brisk wind churned the azure waters, tossing the white-foamed swells against the rowboat Gavin lowered in the distance. Aidan was bone tired. He'd arrived at his cousin's keep the night before. Rory and Aileanna had urged him to remain, but he knew they'd harangue him about Syrena, and it was more then he could bear.
He found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he'd gone ahead and let Evangeline wipe his memory free of her. But in the end, he hadn't been able to go through with it. Not after Syrena, with strength and dignity, had bared her heart to him and begged him not to. No matter how painful the memories, he had to keep a part of her with him. To rip her from his mind would have been like severing a piece of his heart, his very soul.
Closing his eyes, he soaked up the watery rays, not strong enough to take the chill from the air, or his bones. A shadow blocked the sun. He raised heavy lids and groaned.
The wee demons.
“What do ye want?” He warily eyed the bundles they carried in their arms. The two of them sat their wee arses onto the stony shore, Alex on one side of him, Jamie on the other.
“We're comin' to Lewes with ye,” Jamie informed him.
Like hell they were. “Ye're no' comin' to Lewes, so take yer bundles and head back to the keep.”
“Aye, we are. We're goin' to fetch our auntie.”
Aidan ignored Jamie's reference to Syrena. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about her, especially with the demons. “Yer da willna let ye come. Where is he?” Shooting a glance over his shoulder, he prayed he would catch a glimpse of his cousin.
“He sent us down to ye. He said he had to have a wee chat with our mam,” Alex explained.
Aye, he could well imagine the kind of chat Rory was havin' with his bonny wife. Aidan would do the same in his place, with Syrena. He blew out a frustrated breath. Every thought led back to her.
“Yer Auntie Syrena had to go home. She's her people's princess. They need her.”
“But you need her. She's yer wife. Go get her!” Jamie demanded with a belligerent thrust of his chin.
Aye, she'd been his wife, and he'd called their marriage a sham. It wasn'tâit had been as close to perfect as he could ever have imagined, and he'd thrown it all away. He had to get rid of the bairns. They caused him to think too much, to question his reasons for giving up the only woman he'd ever love. “Yer auntie is no' like ye and me.”
“Aye, she's a lass, like Mama,” Jamie said, talking to him as though he were the bairn and not the other way around.
“Nay, I mean she's different, she's . . .” He didn't know what to say.
Jamie glanced furtively over his shoulder then whispered, “Special. She's Fae.”
Sweet Christ!
“Who told ye that?”
“Mama. 'Tis our secret, but we can share with family. Families doona keep secrets. Mama says folks are silly and afraid of what they canna understand. She said there are some who might try to steal Auntie fer her magick if they found out she's Fae. 'Tis why only family can ken, but I think they'd want her 'cause she's bonny and loves bairns.”
Aidan scrubbed his hands over his face. Aye, she was bonny, and he thought he might strangle Aileanna the next time he saw her. He didn't want to think about Syrena, didn't want to be reminded of what he'd lost.
“We're the same as Auntie,” Alex announced proudly.
“Are no',” Jamie scoffed.
“Are, too. Our great, lots of greats, grandda was half-Fae. His mama was a Fae princess just like Auntie Syrena. She gave us the faery flag.”
Christ, the bairn was right. Every one of them had Fae blood running in their veins, however diluted it may be. Aidan came to his feet, wondering why he hadn't thought of it before. But if he had, would it have made a difference?
“Oh, aye, I forgot.” Jamie looked put out that his brother was right and him wrong, but quickly got over it when he jumped to his feet. Dropping his bundle, he excitedly waved his arms. “Look, Gavin and Donald are here to take us to Lewes.”
“Jamie and Alex, where do you think you're going?” Aileanna called to her sons from the path leading down to the loch.
The demons tugged on Aidan's legs, moving him toward the rowboat approaching the shore. “Hurry, hurry, she's comin',” Jamie squealed.
“Ye're daft if ye think I'm takin' ye with me. Yer mother will have my head.”
“Aye, she would. Boys, leave your Uncle Aidan be. He has to get back to Lewes,” Aileanna said as she walked along the rocky shore toward them
“To bring Auntie home?” Alex asked.
“Aye, if he starts thinking with his heart instead of his head, he will.”
Aidan dragged his hand through his hair and looked into Aileanna's shrewd blue gaze. “I doona think I can.”
“Of course you can. You love her, and that's all that matters. Everything else you can deal with together, Aidan.”
“I loved Lachlan and lookâ”
“Aye, you did, you do. It wasn't you or the Fae that hurt him, it was Jarius. You're not responsible for anyone else's actions, not even Lan's. He has his own demons to deal with, Aidan. You can't make it right for everyone.”
He'd always known Lachlan was troubled, but he'd never known what to do about it. “Thank ye, Aileanna, I'll give it some thought.”
She patted his cheek. “You do that. And, Aidan, you might want to remember the woman you love is a warrior, just like you. Together there is nothing the two of you can't overcome.”
Aidan stood at the bow of the boat, the wind pushing the hair from his face, Aileanna's words ramming past his defenses. Gavin came to stand beside him and together they watched the stone walls of Lewes come into viewâcold and austere. It hadn't always been that way. While his mother lived, the castle had been warm and inviting, the same as when Syrena had been there.
Thanks to Rohan's revelation, his memories of his mother were no longer tainted with bitterness and blame. His fury that night with Syrena had been uncalled for. Her uncle was right. He knew her too well to think she'd kept it from him on purpose. It wasn't her fault her father was a bastard, just as it wasn't his that Alexander had allowed drink to control his life and his actions.
“Are ye goin' after her?”
The closest thing to family Aidan had on Lewes, he had confided everything to Donald and Gavin. “Aye.” He couldn't go on any longer without her in his life. And it didn't sit well with him that his wee wife showed more courage than he did. With his decision made, the resentment and anger that had consumed him for all those long years fell away.
Gavin clapped him on the back. “Good, now, do ye ken if she has some friends she'd like to bring back with her?”
Aidan snorted. “Ye may no' want to get ahead of yerself. I doona even ken if she'll return with me.”
“Just be yer charmin' . . . Aye, ye're right, she may no'.”
“Thanks fer yer confidence.”
“Ye ken I'm playin' with ye. She loves ye, at least she did.”
Aye, and now he had to convince her how badly he wanted her, needed her. And then there was her uncle. Aidan had an uneasy feeling King Rohan might be the hardest of all to convince.
Aidan slammed his sword against the Callanish Stones. He'd tried knocking on the bloody things, he'd tried whispering to them, and then yelling, feeling like a daft fool for doing so, but it was the only way he knew of reaching Syrena.
“You need to learn patience, Lord MacLeod,” a craggy voice tsked from behind him.
“Uscias?” Aidan searched the circle.
“Yes, I wondered how long it would take for you to come.” The old man stepped around a towering gray stone.
“So, ye're no' surprised to see me?”
“Why should I be? Our princess is the fairest of them all, is she not?”
“Aye, she is. Will ye take me to her?”
“Yes, but be preparedâcircumstances in the Enchanted Isles are changing as we speak. And you will have to deal with the biggest change of all, Lord MacLeod.”
Aidan grabbed the wizard's arm. “Has somethin' happened to Syrena?”
“It is not your wife to whom I refer.” He held up his hand when Aidan attempted to question him further. “All in good time, my lord, all in good time.”
Syrena took her rightful place at the head of the table on the dais. She was now Queen of the Isles. Lachlan, whose wounds had slowly healed, took the chair to her right, while her stepmother, who'd finally agreed to the terms set out by her uncle, settled herself at Syrena's left. King Rohan, recently arrived, took a seat, making an appearance in honor of Syrena's coronation.
A little over a month had passed since the nightmare of Glastonbury. By tacit agreement, she and Lachlan did not mention Aidan. It was too painful for them both. She didn't tell her brother about Aidan's decision to wipe out the last several years of his life. Nor did she tell him about the circumstances of his birth. Lachlan had more than enough to deal with for now.
She squeezed his hand. “It's good to have you with us.” It was the first night her brother had joined them in the hall, and Syrena was happy he'd picked this night to do so. It meant so very much to her.
It had taken time before she was able to experience any emotion other than sorrow. But with help from Fallyn and her sisters, Syrena had thrown herself into ruling the Enchanted Isles. Finding some balance between the rights of both men and women hadn't been easy. There was still room for improvement, but she thought circumstances for both had changed for the better.
Syrena formed one council for the women, and one for the men. When they reached a consensus within their group, they brought their issues to her. With Morgana at the helm of the women's council, the demands never ceased, but her stepmother seemed content with the arrangement.
“You must be feeling better,” Syrena said to her brother, noting he no longer suffered from the sickly pallor he once had.
“He must be. He pleasures more women than yer father did on a daily basis.” Morgana didn't bother to lower her voice. The men at the table snorted their amusement. Lord Bana and Lord Erwn were obviously pleased to hear of the king's son's prowess with the ladies. The women pretended disdain at Lachlan's behavior, all the while eyeing her beautiful brother with desire. Syrena wasn't blind to his dissolute conduct. Fallyn kept her informed whereas others would have shielded her from the information.
Lan sprawled on the gilded chair, raised a brow, then shrugged. He lifted the gold-encrusted chalice to his lips and wrinkled his nose in disgust.
Syrena laughed. “Here, take mine. I don't like it as sweet.”
He snorted. “Since when?” His eyes shadowed at his reference to those long-ago days on Lewes.
“Oh, about a week ago.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
Syrena brought his goblet to her lips and wrinkled her nose as well. It was sweet.
“No,” Morgana shrieked, “it's poisoned.” She knocked the goblet from Syrena's hand. Crimson juice splattered the white linen tablecloth, and a circle of red bloomed in the center of Syrena's white robes.
Guards rushed to the table, but Lan already stood in front of Morgana with the tip of Nuie's blade at her throat. “A verra stupid move on yer part, Morgana.”
“No, Lachlan, lower the sword.”
He did as Syrena asked, setting Nuie at the side of her chair. She couldn't help but notice there was no glow of color when Lachlan held her sword. An icy chill skittered along her spine. She met Uscias's gaze across the long length of the table. He stroked his beard. “Time,” he mouthed. He'd seen Nuie's lack of response.
Her uncle came to her side to examine the stain and the residue in her cup, sniffing its contents. “Rowan berries,” he spat, pinning Morgana with a malevolent glare.
“It was not me. I saved her life.” Her gaze shot to where the servants ringed the wall. She jumped to her feet and her chair skittered to the white marble floor. Pointing to the silver-haired woman attempting to escape the hall, she cried, “It was Nessa.”
“Take them both to the throne room. We'll get to the bottom of this, now.” Rohan cast an apologetic smile at Syrena. “I'm sorry, your highness. I overstepped my authority.”
“No, you haven't,” she said, placing her napkin at the side of the gold-rimmed porcelain plate. She rose to her feet. “Lan, are you coming?”
“Ye mean we're no' goin' to eat first?”
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