The Well of Shades Page 33

  “I only speak Gaelic, my lady,” Eile said, curtsying to the queen and remembering the last time Saraid had attacked a nobleman’s son. “I’m sorry; my daughter gets frightened. We’ve seen so many changes…” She fell silent as Saraid released her grip on her mother’s skirt and followed the small boy over to the cradle. The boy said something like Fayda, and the two of them peered into the little bed together. Saraid’s features were suddenly illuminated by a brilliant smile. “Baby,” she said, reaching a gentle finger to touch.

  “Come, sit by me.” Queen Tuala’s accented Gaelic was easy enough to understand. “Ferada and I can put together enough words to talk to you, I hope. You’ve had a long journey, Eile.”

  Eile nodded, keeping her eyes on the children. “She’s usually very well behaved,” she said.

  “And so is my son. Sometimes he forgets the proper way to do things. He’s proud of his new sister, and protective. He seems to like your daughter. Saraid, is it?”

  Ana must have told her. Eile nodded, wondering how much more Ana had told. She could think of no reason why the queen of Fortriu should show any interest at all in a wandering girl and her by-blow. No; not that. She’d promised Faolan not to say that sort of thing. “I saw your sister, Breda,” she told Ana, remembering and thinking this should be passed on. “Just now, out there.” She would not say that Breda had been banished from the garden, or that she had shown little interest in meeting her long-lost sister. She would not comment on Breda’s distinctly odd manner of speech.

  Tuala spoke to Ana in the other tongue; the fair-haired woman jumped up, eyes alight, and excused herself.

  “Hmm,” commented Ferada when Ana was gone. “An interesting reunion. I wonder what they’ll think of each other.” Her Gaelic sounded remarkably competent.

  “We won’t speak of that now.” Tuala’s voice was soft; nonetheless, Eile was reminded that she was queen. “Eile, Ana tells me you are a good friend of Faolan’s.”

  “We traveled together. He helped us, me and Saraid.” Then, after a pause during which she tried and failed to suppress the words, “Do you know when he’s coming back, my lady?”

  “I’m afraid not. Faolan works for my husband, not for me. Bridei speaks very good Gaelic, and I know he will want to talk to you. I also know the nature of Faolan’s work is such that even Bridei will not be able to tell you where he’s gone or when he will return.”

  Eile nodded. The king, wanting to talk to her? Not likely. Even if he did, she’d be so scared of saying something wrong she’d be wetting herself every time he asked a question.

  “We can find accommodation for you and Saraid here at White Hill,” Tuala said. “For now I’ll ask Dorica, who’s currently in charge, to put you next to Ana and Drustan.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Ana tells me they don’t plan to stay long. I understand you’ve chosen not to go north with them.”

  “That’s right.”

  The two children had settled themselves on the rug before the hearth. They seemed to be exchanging words, though in what tongue it was by no means clear. Saraid had Sorry sitting up on her knee. The little boy was holding a horse made from carven stone; a royal sort of toy, Eile thought, beautifully detailed. She started as it seemed to move a miniature hoof and toss its tiny aristocratic head. She must be far more tired than she thought.

  “Did Faolan speak to you much about court?” The queen’s tone was gentle.

  “Just that there were good people here, my lady, and that we’d be safe. He did say that perhaps a place might be found for me. Or at a school; he did mention a school, but I won’t go anywhere without my daughter. Besides, I don’t think I would fit into such an establishment. I imagine it’s all fine embroidery and singing.”

  “I imagine so,” said Ferada gravely.

  “Eile,” said Tuala, “what do you think Faolan had in mind for you?”

  Eile felt a flush rise to her cheeks. “I think he expected me to stay with Lady Ana. I don’t think he considered things much further than that. The fact is, the only skills I have are for servants’ work: scrubbing floors, washing clothes, plain cooking. I like gardening. Oh, and looking after children. I am quite good at that.” She glanced at Saraid and her companion. Her daughter now had the stone horse between careful hands, examining it closely. The boy cradled Sorry, scrutinizing her painted eyes and battle-scarred neck. Eile’s astonishment must have shown on her face. Even the charming Phadraig had not been allowed to hold Saraid’s only treasure.

  “Derelei can be very… persuasive,” Tuala said, smiling. “Eile, Ana believes Faolan did not mean you to be given a servant’s position, and indeed, we would not offer you that.”

  “Oh.” Was she to be sent on again? Sent away before she even got the chance to say good-bye?

  “If you are his friend, and that in itself is surprising for all manner of reasons, then you must be treated appropriately. I want you and your daughter to make yourselves at home here. To feel safe. You must stay at White Hill as long as you like.”

  Tears pricked Eile’s eyes. She reminded herself of Blackthorn Rise and Áine. She must learn to be cautious; warm welcomes did not necessarily translate into happy futures. “Thank you, my lady. I do want to work. I want to earn my keep and Saraid’s. Anything else would be wrong.” She considered the éraic, the phenomenal sum that would take a lifetime to pay back.

  “I’ll talk to my husband. You and Saraid need time to rest and recover. There are several children here at court of about her age. All boys, I’m afraid, and quite loud ones. Your daughter seems a quiet little thing.”

  “She’s had to be.” All those times with Dalach, and Saraid sitting out on the step, still as a mouse, waiting. Eile shuddered as it came back.

  “Maybe she will set a good example here,” Tuala said. Her eyes were on the two children, who had their heads together, whispering. Derelei was helping Sorry pat the stone horse.

  “There are some rules you need to understand.” Ferada had said little; her voice, now, was like a dash of cold water. “They’ve had to be put in place to keep the queen and her new daughter safe. Only a handful of people are admitted to these quarters and the part of the garden that adjoins them. There are two guards on duty to enforce that at all times. Court’s very full just now. The rules will be relaxed somewhat when the visitors are gone. We did consult Faolan during his brief stop here. He approved.”

  “Oh.” That explained what the girl Breda had said, about being asked to leave the private garden. It did seem odd that the prohibition should apply to Breda herself; she was Ana’s own sister. “I suppose we should go, then. Is that what you’re saying? Saraid, come with me.”

  “Eile—” Tuala began, but Ferada said with a frown, “You’ll be tired. I’ll call someone to show you—”

  “No need,” Eile said, hearing the tight sound of her own voice. “Drustan said he’d wait for me. I’ll stay out of the garden, don’t worry. We’re used to keeping out of folk’s way.” Then, as the two of them looked at her, “My lady.”

  “That wasn’t what Ferada meant, Eile,” said the queen quietly. “You are Faolan’s friend. I’m sure in time you will become our friend, too.” Her eyes went to the children, Saraid now back at Eile’s skirts, Derelei looking crestfallen. “My son already wishes that were so, I think. But you’re right, it is time to go. You need to settle in. Ana tells me you’re a little concerned about your inability to understand the Priteni tongue. We have an old scholar who would enjoy teaching you the language; he’s a lot less terrifying as a tutor than Ferada here, and he gets wonderful results. I’ll have a word with Wid. He could do with something to keep him busy.”

  “Thank you, my lady. Before I go, may I look at the baby? Fayda, is that her name?”

  She could see Ferada was about to say no, and Tuala herself seemed hesitant, but Derelei heard the name and jumped to his feet. “See Fayda,” he said, holding out a hand to lead Eile to the cradle. That much in the Priteni tongue Eile und
erstood.

  “Anfreda,” Tuala said. “She’s named for Bridei’s mother, who wed the king of Gwynedd. Derelei’s learned her name quite quickly. He’s over two, but he doesn’t talk much.”

  “He will learn in his own time, I’m sure,” Eile said. “Children are all different. Oh, she’s lovely! So like you!” She took in the translucent skin, the long lashes, the coal-black hair. Abruptly, the infant opened her eyes. They gazed up at Eile, big, deep, strangely knowing. “So beautiful. And so…”

  “Unusual?” Tuala’s tone was light. “My mother was of another race. Did Faolan mention this?”

  Eile shook her head, stepping back from the cradle. If they were worried enough about personal safety to keep folk out of the garden, they wouldn’t want a perfect stranger like herself close to the baby. “We talked mostly about home; about how things had been for us before. And about my father, whom he knew. Then there were the day-to-day things, getting food, keeping the fire going, tending to Saraid.” They were looking at her strangely again, as if she were a curiosity. It made her feel edgy. “When he spoke of you and of King Bridei, he just said you were good people, wise and kind. Nothing about birth or breeding.”

  “Such things shouldn’t matter,” said Ferada. “But here in Fortriu they do. For me and Tuala, for Bridei, for Ana, they are all-important. Some of us make a choice to ignore that, and our lives become complicated as a result.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Tuala said, “My mother was… Tell me, in your own country, have you a race of people who belong… who dwell in a realm outside the human world? Whose homes are deep in the forest, or in wells and caves, places beyond an invisible margin? My mother was of such a race. Here in Fortriu we call her kind the Good Folk, though that term cannot adequately encompass such a widely varied array of beings.”

  Eile sensed Tuala was a little afraid of what her response might be. It startled her to think the queen of Fortriu might be in fear of her, a mere… No, she wouldn’t even let herself think it. “We call them Fair Folk,” she said with some hesitation. “I was never sure if they were real or just a story. This is a very strange land.” Wondrous, really. If a man could be talking to you one moment and turn into a bird the next, and folk accepted someone who was only half human as their queen, perhaps there was a place here even for herself. “Your father must be a man of some consequence, for you to have risen so high. I’m sorry, that sounded discourteous—”

  “Oh, he is.” Tuala’s smile was a little odd, as if she felt both sad and happy at once. “And please don’t apologize. You’ll understand the need to be discreet about what we discuss here, I’m sure. I have spoken to you of this only because Ana assured me both she and Faolan consider you entirely trustworthy. Ana is a good friend of mine and I know her judgment is reliable. Faolan is never wrong in his assessments of character.”

  Eile could not stop her voice from wobbling. “Thank you, my lady. I will not betray any confidences.”

  “Fayda hungry,” Derelei said, and it was indeed so. Ferada ushered the visitors to the door, her expression stern.

  “Bye, Derry,” Saraid said, hanging back and waving.

  Derelei looked as if he were about to burst into tears. His mother said something to him and he brightened.

  “I told him he can play with Saraid tomorrow, if you agree,” Tuala said. “Go now, rest well. I’m happy to have met you. And extremely surprised. We’ve never met any of Faolan’s friends before. He always told us he had none.”

  “WHAT DID YOU make of that?” the queen of Fortriu asked her friend a little later, when Anfreda was suckling and Derelei had gone off with his nursemaid.

  “That you are too trusting,” Ferada said. “You don’t know this girl. She could be anyone.”

  “I trust Ana. She says Eile is her father’s daughter, and he, I understand, was courageous and noble to a superhuman degree. Didn’t he sacrifice himself for the three of them, Ana, Drustan, and Faolan? This girl seems genuine. I like her honesty. She’s mature beyond her years.”

  “Use that argument and you might deduce our friend Breda must be gracious, wise, and honorable simply because she is Ana’s sister.”

  “There’s Derelei. He was instantly on guard against Breda. This girl he allowed to approach, to admire the baby. He took her hand.”

  “Tuala,” said Ferada, “your son may be a highly remarkable boy, but he is only two. His attention was probably caught by Eile’s daughter. I expect he never even thought about danger. The little girl is a delightful child.”

  “She is, isn’t she?” Tuala regarded her friend owlishly.

  “I didn’t say I wanted one,” retorted Ferada, raising a hand to smooth her already immaculate coiffure. She had taken to dressing more plainly now, in keeping with her new role as head of an innovative school for young noblewomen. But she had never swerved from her natural elegance of garb and deportment. “Tuala, in such a time of danger you must stick to your own rules. Eile’s a complete stranger.”

  “You weren’t on hand when Ana and Faolan came home last autumn. He was quite damaged by what had happened on their journey, and I don’t just mean his mangled leg. He was… somehow lost. Bereft. Ana and Drustan care about him deeply. So does Bridei. Ana wants the girl to stay here until Faolan comes back, at least. She believes it’s somehow important. I don’t know Eile’s past history and nor does Ana. Apparently she’s as buttoned up as Faolan himself. Ana believes she’s had a difficult time. I want to trust Eile, Ferada. My instincts tell me I can.”

  “I’ll grant her one point. She didn’t blink an eye when you spoke of your origins. The girl’s hard to surprise for one so young.”

  “We don’t know how old she is.”

  “I’d put her no older than seventeen; about Breda’s age. I can’t for the life of me see Breda raising a child. Hers certainly wouldn’t be smiling at babies and sharing its toys.”

  Tuala grinned. “She did whack Derelei on the hand.”

  “That was the part I liked best,” said Ferada. “A man must learn to ask permission before he touches.”

  “Speaking of such matters,” Tuala said, “your brothers are growing up quickly. I don’t just mean their willingness to help entertain the little ones. Queen Rhian tells me Bedo is showing a great deal of interest in one of Breda’s handmaids, a girl named Cella. Very charming, Rhian said, and of good character. Their behavior is perfectly discreet, of course; little chats in the Great Hall, glances when they think nobody’s looking, a particular kind of smile. I do tend to think of Bedo and Uric as children, but of course they are young men now.”

  “Hmm.” Ferada’s thin lips twisted in a smile. “I worked hard enough to ensure they’d grow up well. Yes, they’re good boys, I have to agree, for all the headaches they’ve caused me. Of course, it won’t come to anything, Bedo and this girl. He’s too young. Tuala, about Eile. Promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Talk to Bridei before you decide to make a friend of the girl. She’s a Gael, after all, and that’s going to look odd to many folk. You’re not supposed to be drawing adverse attention right now. See if Bridei agrees with this theory of Ana’s. For such a dour, shuttered individual, Faolan seems to have a lot of people looking out for his welfare. I’d have thought a man like that more than capable of running his own life.”

  “You heard Eile,” Tuala said, shifting the nursing infant to the other breast. “She traveled with him all the way from home. They talked about the past. They looked after a three-year-old together. This is Faolan we’re speaking of.”

  “Perhaps that’s evidence that this girl is lying.”

  “You’re so cynical, Ferada. Ana spoke to Faolan himself, remember. He wanted Eile looked after.”

  “If he cares about her, why did he move on before she got here?”

  “Because he had no choice.” Tuala was suddenly solemn. “His reticence has done neither Eile nor himself good service. I’ll talk to Bridei, of course. We talk abo
ut everything. Don’t you and Garvan do that?”

  DRUSTAN HELPED EILE and Saraid settle into their quarters, then went in search of his betrothed. He sent the hoodie ahead and, when it flew back to him, all he had to do was follow it across the garden to a small upper courtyard protected by a creeper-covered wall. There was a round stone table here, and a view over the parapet to low hills and the distant sea. Ana was standing very still, one hand on the table, the other curled up against her mouth. Halfway up to the court, Drustan realized she was crying.

  One long stride carried him up the remaining steps; he moved to enfold her in his arms. “What’s wrong? What has happened?” he asked her, his lips against her hair.

  “I’m all right,” Ana said, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

  “You don’t look all right, dear heart. Tell me. What has made you sad?”

  “I met my sister. Breda. You know how much I’ve been longing for that; looking forward to seeing her again now she’s grown up.” Her voice was shaky.

  Drustan kissed her brow but did not speak.

  “She… When I saw her, I threw my arms around her and held her close. I could feel her stiffen all over, as if she found my touch disgusting. It was odd. Odd and terrible. I thought, maybe she’s afraid; she must know she could be the next hostage. And then I thought, she’s still young. This must be very strange to her, meeting me after so long; perhaps she doesn’t know what to say. I tried to talk to her; to begin telling her how much I regret those lost years, and how much I missed her and worried about her. She just looked through me, Drustan. She didn’t seem interested in anything I had to say. She was… coolly polite. As if I were a stranger, and rather a tedious one at that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Drustan murmured. “You don’t deserve this, on top of everything else. Perhaps Breda simply needs time.”

  “Maybe.” Ana sounded doubtful. “I hope it’s only that. She was… I can’t quite say what it was, but she made me uneasy. And… this is going to sound silly, but she was quite impolite, as if she had never learned the appropriate way to behave in company. But she’s been at our cousin’s court for some time now. She must know these things. It’s as if she doesn’t care. I didn’t say anything about the baby.” The tears began to fall again, wrenching at Drustan’s heart. Her sadness made him feel helpless.