Chapter 1

Standing inside a smoky campsite in the ancient forest of Wyre, a young man with shoulder-length raven black hair and piercing blue eyes watched with interest as the other men of his village began the arduous process of clearing stumps from a section of the forest.

Their Lord, needing to raise taxes due to another one of their King’s wars, gave permission for this endeavor. Without this bit of extra farmland, the chances of starvation over the winter could become a reality. What the men of the village didn’t need was someone who couldn’t pull their weight.

Although his coming of age ceremony occurred over the winter, the young man named Aislin, who was small in stature, reluctantly admitted he wasn’t best suited to assist the other men of the village. He wasn’t even upset to be assigned to help the women make the meals. What saddened him was, no matter how hard he worked, the village gave him little respect, much less compassion.

“Aislin, get your head out of the clouds and come stir this pot.”

Ina, the young man’s grandmother, shook her head. With his name meaning Dreams in the old tongue, the old Wise Woman and healer thought that his mother had well named the boy. Unfortunately, in this part of the Kingdom, most considered Aislin a girl’s name. Even without the name, with his beautiful hair and striking blue eyes, she had to admit her charge had much more in common with the young women in the village than the men.

“Sorry, Gran, just daydreaming.”

“As usual.” She commented with a small smile.

Aislin grinned, although the older woman wasn’t his grandmother by blood, she was by action. Walking back to the campfire, he checked to make sure that the coals were spread evenly before stirring the contents in the pot. The barley stew, mixed with mushrooms and leeks, would keep everyone happy for the long day ahead.

“That poor excuse for a boy should not be here.”

For the most part, the women who worked around the camp preparing meals gave Aislin little grief. However, Seara, the wife of the village Headman, tended to look at Ina’s charge as some sort of anathema and a stain upon the village.

Aislin, however, ignored the words coming from the tall, middle-aged woman. Such vitriolic comments flew from the woman’s mouth on a regular basis.

“And where should my grandson be, Seara?”His grandmother, however, would not allow such drivel to be unanswered.

“You know what they do with pretty boys in the Capitol?” Seara looked down at Aislin with disdain.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell us anyway.” Clar, the miller’s wife, commented as she dropped off a small armful of wood. Looking at the boy for a moment she realized it wasn’t necessarily that he looked like one of her nieces that made them uncomfortable. It was this strange air about him that made everyone uneasy.

“Whatever, Ina, that boy has no business being near my daughter, not with her recent betrothal.” With that, she turned away to start berating a group of other women.

Ina sighed, the young girl, said to be the prettiest in the village, recently caught the eye of the decade older Seneschal while her father visited the Keep on one of the festival days. Everyone agreed that the marriage would benefit the village greatly.

Although Seneschal Oran was considered a good man, her grandson had only a few friends in the village. Seara’s daughter had been his best friend since they were small children.

“Aislin, is this true, have you been with Rowena again?”

“She’s my friend Gran, plus she isn’t very happy right now.” The young man made a sad face, the life of one of his only real friend had been turned upside down since the announcement of her betrothal.

Late last week, she had burst into his grandmother’s small cottage crying. After claiming her life was over; he spent most of the day consoling Rowena. Secretly, Aislin had visions of being mounted on a tall white steed, like some of the Lord’s Knights he had seen jousting during festival days; properly attired with lance and armor, riding to the castle to do battle with the monster who was taking his friend away.

“You still like her, don’t you?”

Aislin shrugged; her grandmother missed nothing. “Doesn’t matter, she is to marry Master Oran. Plus, my life isn’t going to be terribly long anyway.”

“Aislin, don’t say that.” Ina looked shocked, what was he saying?

“I have no skills, no one in the village or Keep is willing to make me an apprentice. When the King calls up new levies, the Elders will make sure I am one of the men picked.”

Ina closed her eyes; true, her grandson might not have typical male skills useful in the village, but there was no mistaking his intelligence. Born a girl, Aislin would have been chosen to be her apprentice years ago instead of Macha, her new apprentice from one of the nearby villages.

“If that happens, you need to make sure that you speak with one of the King’s Healers.”

The Kings Healers were Wisewomen of great power and influence whose Order kept the realm safe from sickness. Unlike the Wisewomen, who healed the common folk, they also tended to the nobility, which found themselves wounded on the battlefield.

Although it was obviously impossible for Aslin to be a Wisewomen, Ina believed that her grandson had a healing touch. Even his herb knowledge surpassed hers.

Aislin nodded, they had spoken about this before. Besides the Kings Healers, there were others who helped with the wounded. Even then, there was little chance that would happen. Such things went to people with both money and patronage, Aislin had neither.

As much as he didn't want to face it, he knew his future appeared grim. No matter their height or build, all men would be given a spear and thrust into line with all of the other untrained militia.

A cry from the forest caught Aislin’s attention dragging him from those morbid thoughts.

“Grab my bag.” Without another word, his grandmother hurried towards where the men were working.

Quickly following right behind her, Aislin ran to his grandmother’s side to thankfully discover there were no injuries; however, what he found was something wondrous.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t even see it.” Jaralth, the town’s farrier, explained as Aislin approached a small black obelisk.

Moving closer to get a better look, Aislin could see that a small piece had been chipped off; obviously, from the farrier’s reaction, he must have damaged it. The man continued to explain that before his ax struck, it looks like nothing more than a stump.

The group began to talk all at once, before Tadhg, the village Hatcher stepped forward. “We are on her land.”

“Don’t be a dolt, even if we were; King Myles conquered her lands after she and her minions were defeated.” Rian, one of the village elders, raised his voice.

The object in front of them, although unusual, was not uncommon as the remains of the ancient Sorceress Kingdom littered the countryside. According to the stories, all of these lands were once part of Liadan, the legendary enchantress, lands. But that was ancient history. Why everyone was making such a fuss over the black monolith, he didn’t know.

Looking about, the village Elder motioned Ina to step forward. ‘What do you think, Ina?”

The men stepped back, allowing the Wisewomen to approach. Considered one of the most learned. Hopefully, the older women would put all of their minds at rest.

The monolith, crafted from some unknown stone, stood less than four spans tall. While examining the intricate golden runes that covered the black stone, Ina could feel some small amount of unknown eldritch power surrounding it. Not having a clue about its nature, she turned to her grandson.

“Aislin, what do you think?”

Ignoring the frowns and a couple of unflattering whispers, the small boy moved closer. Immediately he understood the crafting skills needed to create such a simple stone lay beyond even those who built the Keep that dominated the lands surrounding the village. Knowing better than to touch the black stone, he knelt down to study the runes. They were in the familiar language of the ancients who once ruled over all of the lands.

Pointing to a particular line, he commented. “I have seen this before; remember the standing stones off the Kings Road near Buttlebridge.”

Aislin had accompanied his grandmother a year ago to a meeting of realms Wisewomen a few days away. Unable to attend the meeting, he spent most of the time wandering around the scattered black stones that made the Mijar Circle.

“I remember.” Ina smiled; the boy had a good eye for things. Unlike the rest of the village, the boy could even read, taught to him by his mother before she passed away from the Wasting sickness.

Keir, the largest man in the village and also its blacksmith, looked upon the stone with trepidation. “Let’s leave well enough alone for now. I believe we need to inform the castle.”

Most of the excitement upon finding the stone had worn off among the older people by the end of the week. Several members of the Keep had already come by to assess the situation, found nothing dangerous, and left the village. To the younger children, the stone was an object of mystery. With its discovery, numerous old stories and songs began to circulate once more about the Black Sorceress.

Not too long ago, mother’s forced their daughters into obedience stating that if they weren’t good, the Sorceress would come for them. Some of the older women even taught an old game. One child, claiming to be the Black Sorceress would run through the village trying to capture other girls. To Aislin’s annoyance, the children often captured him, commenting that he looked like a girl.

His mood continued to darken when Master Oran arrived several days later for an investigation of the black stone, which consisted of him looking at it then quickly returning to the village. Obviously, his true purpose was to spend time with his intended.

Through the day, while working in front of his grandmother’s cottage drying out herbs, Aislin watched the drama unfold as Rowena, and the Seneschal walked around the village together. The two seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. Finally, an unexpected kiss on his friend's hand signaled the Seneschal departure.

Aislin did not know if his feelings for his friend bordered on the romantic, but what he did understand when Rowena went to live in the Keep he would most likely never be allowed to talk to her again. With that thought, dying under the King’s Colors didn’t seem to bother him anymore.

Macha, returning to the cottage, look at Ina’s grandson with concern. She knew he wouldn’t say anything. Even after being forced out of his bed to sleep by the stove upon her arrival last summer, he always spoke with her with a smile.

The young girl thought it was all unfair. The little minds in the village did not understand his brilliance. His knowledge of herbs and medicines surpassed his grandmother's. He even made most of the medicines taken by the village, little they knew. Aislin even didn’t mind passing that knowledge to those willing to listen spending most of the summer happily teaching her forest craft without a complaint.

Finally, over the long Winter, she started to admit to herself that she had real feelings for him. She never considered herself beautiful, with her dirty blonde hair and crooked nose, but he didn't look at her like he did the perfect Rowena.

For Macha, even the first time meeting him, his beautiful looks and piercing blue eyes left her breathless. Those eyes haunted her dreams, leaving her, most mornings now, covered in sweat. Beyond his looks, lately, she found herself just watching him, admiring the effort he put forth when working around the village.

“Aislin?”

Twisting off a handful of herbs, the young man looked up with a forced smile. “Did my grandmother send you back to check on me?”

“Well, no, she wanted to know if you needed help.” The young apprentice bit her lip; obviously, the Wisewoman, like the rest of the village, had been watching Rowena and the Seneschal half the morning. Only Aislin’s grandmother knew what that stroll was doing to her grandson.

“I see.” The young man’s eyes twinkled, not believing a word the apprentice just said. “Well, thanks.” Moving to the side, he patted the ground next to him and passed her a basket of herbs.

“You’ve been friends with the Headman’s daughter for a long time.”

The young man gave a small laugh. “Since I was little, one summer when she was little she became fairly ill. None of her other friends’ mothers would allow them to visit her. My mother, who had some healing skills of her own, helped Rowena through the illness and didn’t mind if I tagged along.”

“Wasn’t your mother afraid you would get sick too?”

Aislin looked away slightly so as not to watch his childhood friend talk excitedly with her mother across the village commons.

“Not really, she understood that Rowena caught a fairly common illness from the north after a group of peddlers came through the village. Half the town ended up ill, but it wasn’t all that serious. So unlike the other children in the village, I played with her every day until she got better. She always remembered that.”

Before Macha could say anything, Rowena appeared in front of the pair, all excited. “Aislin, did you get a chance to see Master Oran? I was afraid at first, but he seems nice.”

The young man nodded. “That’s good; you looked as if you had a nice time walking around the village with him.”

“I did…about the other day…”

Aislin waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it, already forgotten. I’m glad you had fun. Anyway, I’d better go back into the house with these herbs; No need for you to get into trouble for talking to me.”

Without another word, he grabbed the baskets and headed back inside his grandmother’s cottage.

“I thought he would be more excited.” Rowena sounded confused and a little hurt.

Macha stared at the young girl. An uncomfortable few seconds had passed before she spoke. “Why would he be excited?”

“It’s a good marriage; it will benefit the village. I mean, it could be worse.”

“Like marrying him.” The apprentice whispered.

“What did you say?”

“I’m sure that Aislin is just sad that he will be losing a friend.”

“What don’t be silly, I’ll always be his friend.”

“How?”

“What do you mean?”

“You will be the wife of the Seneschal up at the Keep. With a much higher status, he won’t even be able to talk to you.”

Rowena grimaced, hearing the truth in the apprentice's words. “I see. I’ll just get him a job at the Keep.”

“As a servant?”

“Why not? At least we will see one another.”

“Even if he wanted to be a servant or whatever job you managed to find for him, you would still be a married woman, a friendship with another man would be improper.”

“But.”

Macha rose from the ground looking the village’s headman’s daughter directly in the eye. “Don’t be upset, you’re right, the marriage is a good thing for the village.”

”Thanks, I believe so too, and I’m positive Aislin will find someone, I’m sure of it.”

“Who? Most of the town hates him.” Macha commented, angry how stupid the young girl in front of her could be.

“They don’t…” Rowena looked away.

“And when you leave, who is going to protect him? Do you know why he is normally left alone? It’s because the village knows that you two are childhood friends. Only your father’s position has kept him safe.”

“Not true, he is the grandson of the Wise Woman of our village; no one would do anything to him.”

“And when she is gone, who then?”

“I’ll protect him.”

“How; you will be at the Keep.”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Rowen knew her friend was the most caring person she had ever known. Just because he couldn’t work in the fields, or cut down a tree didn’t make him any less of a man.

Sadly, both knew that not one mother in the village would accept him as a suitable husband material. During the last Spring Festival, mothers of eligible girls sought out other families. Of course, many of these marriages had been set up well beforehand, some at their children's births. However when Alislin’s grandmother approached some families about her grandson all of them turned her away. So by this time of year, all of the girls he grew up with had their hair tied with yellow ribbons signifying a betrothal.

Macha sighed. “There is nothing to be sorry about. Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of him. I’m an apprentice to a Wisewomen. We might not often marry, but there is no reason why I cannot be by his side.”

“You?”

“Yes, me. All you can do now is hurt him. Trust me; I’ll make sure he is happy.”

Rowena looked at the Wise Woman’s cottage with tears in her eyes. “I have to be going. I still have some chores around the house.” Before leaving, she asked one more thing. “Did my mother get angry because I spoke to Aislin?”

“Yes, because as I told you before, it’s no longer proper with you’re betrothal.”

The young woman nodded then ran off, the tears streaming down her face. Macha watched as she crossed the Village Commons before turning away to find Aislin. “It’s really for the best.”

Dinner ended up being a little more quiet than usual, both Ina and Macha leaving Aislin alone to his thoughts. As the apprentice stood up to start clearing the table, she said. “There is a strange rumor going around the village that the Keep is thinking about removing the obelisk.”

“Foolish, if it were true, such things are better left alone.”

Aislin shook his head, agreeing at the stupidity. “Who did you hear it from?”

“Renny, who heard it from her brother.”

“That’s right; her brother works in the keep, doesn’t he? Gran, why would they do such a thing?”

“I rarely understand what the nobility is thinking, Aislin. However, it might be as simple as that Lord Kelvin dislikes the thought of a boundary marker on his land. I hope that it’s only a rumor Macha, that black stone still has power. I believe removing it will cause great difficulty for our entire village.”

Little did the three of them understand at the time how prophetic Ina’s words were.

Chapter 2

While working in the herb garden, Aislin and Macha observed the arrival of a small party from the Keep consisting of a wagon and several mounted men. Two young Knights sworn to Lord Kelvin rode astride two large destriers. The first, dressed in their lord’s black and blue livery, was none other than the son of Lord Kelvin. The second Knight in red and gold, thought to be a distant cousin from the north, had recently joined the household last Summer.

As the group of men and horses came to a halt outside the Village Headman’s cottage, two of the castle guards quickly jumped out of the wagon to grab the bridle of the two armored warrior’s mounts.

“Take a look at those two, Nevan. Don’t they make quite the lovely pair?” The Knight in red and gold motioned with his mailed fist towards the Wise Woman’s Cottage.

Looking over his saddle, Lord Kelvin’s son nodded. “I haven’t seen the one in the green before, but I’m afraid cousin the other beauty is a boy.”

“Impossible.”

“Nevertheless, this is what I have been told by the villagers. Look at the way he is dressed.”

“So she is wearing a long tunic instead of a dress. Anyway, these villagers could be wrong, you know. The rabble isn’t usually the brightest. Remember that lot of levies we assigned to Captain Hamish last Spring? Idiots the lot of them.” The Knight laughed. “Not that it mattered. Half of them died or ran away as soon as Roderick’s heavy horse hit our lines.”

Nevan shook his head, trying to forget that battle. Those mercenaries came out of nowhere to strike their line in the flank. If it wasn’t for his Uncle’s Knights counter charge, it could have been a really bad day.

“If you insist, Miles, since mother and father are away, perhaps this evening we’ll invite the two lovely ladies back to the Keep for dinner. If they’re interested, that is.”

“Why wouldn’t they be interested? I haven’t met a wench yet that didn’t enjoy being bedded by a Knight?”

Sir Miles rubbed his hands in anticipation as he continued to admire the raven-haired beauty. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Obviously, the feelings must be mutual, as all of the other villagers looked down at the ground in respect but not this one. Keeping her head held high like a Queen, she pierced his heart with those beautiful blue eyes. The Knight concluded that his friend must think he was clever, hiding his interest in the girl as well. Not one to decline a challenge, the young Knight decided that he would make this woman his own.

Nevan gave a small chuckle, knowing that his comments about the Wise Woman’s grandson were lost on his cousin. “We still have a job to do first, Miles.”

Waving his hand in acknowledgment, he turned back around and looked towards the Armsmen in annoyance. “Well, what are you standing around for, knock on the bloody door.”

Aislin frowned when Rowena’s father came out of the house, bowing and scraping before the two nobles. The three-spoke for a brief moment before the Headman suddenly ran off and began to gather some of the men from the village. Upon returning, the Knights had already mounted and were leaving the village with the wagons. The village men were instructed to follow close behind.

Moving closer, Aislin felt Macha pulling him back. “Stay still; I don’t like how that one in the red and black was looking at us.”

Before passing the end of the village, the Knight spun his horse around, looked back towards the village then wheeled his horse back into place. Although sorely tempted to follow the wagons, Aislin believed the Knight was looking directly at him.

Deciding that he didn’t want to be around when the group returned, the young man entered his grandmother’s cottage to collect more sacks. Hopefully, whatever errand the Knights had grabbed the village men for had nothing to do with the black monolith.

--0--

Spending most of the day deep inside the forest that surrounded the village, Aislin found that thankfully, he missed the return of the men of the village. What they brought back was no surprise. While instructing Macha how to remove the spikes off one of the Red Lance mushrooms he gathered, she explained that the soldiers passed back through the village with the black obelisk in the wagon.

“Everyone came home unharmed, so perhaps we are worrying for no reason.” The young girl sucked her finger, learning how to de-spike the mushroom had so far been a painful experience.

“I still don’t understand why they decided to remove the stone in the first place; most people know enough to leave them alone.” Reaching for Macha’s hand, he studied it to make sure that none of the sharp lances broke off in her finger.

Blushing, she pulled back her hand with a smile. “If you want, we can hold hands later, but I think we need to clean off the rest of these mushrooms.”

Aislin grinned then reached into his bag, dropping a dozen more of the prickly mushrooms on the small table.

“You didn’t make her remove the spikes with her bare hands, did you, Aislin?” Ina approached with a smile on her lips.

“What.” Macha gave the young man an accusatory look.

“Of course, that’s how my mother taught me.” Trying to keep from laughing, he reached into a small brown sack before putting on a pair of calf hide gloves. “Everyone learns with their bare hands; you need to know how much pressure you can place on the cap. We don’t want to harm the plant any more than necessary. Also, these spikes can damage the gloves just as easily as your hand.”

Macha made a face then nodded. “Show me.”

Starting from the gills of the mushroom, Aislin slowly moved his hand across the cap. With each move, the small spikes covering the cap fell to the ground.

“That slow?”

“That slow, any faster, and more than likely, you’re going to either shred your hands or the gloves.”

“If the mushroom didn’t have so many uses, I don’t think anyone would bother with them.” Ina looked in the bag at the assortment of other mushrooms and medicinal herbs and smiled. “I’m sorry I can’t be out there with you, Aislin.”

“Gran, there is absolutely no reason for you go into the forest anymore. I have two perfectly good legs.”

Before the three could continue further, a rider rode into the village. By the colors worn on his surcoat, he came from the castle.

“I wonder if it has something to do with the obelisk,” Ina commented as the rider was obviously making his way towards the cottage.

“I wish to speak to the one called Aislin.” The man on the horse commanded.

“Wonder what that’s all about.” Frowning, the young man walked around the side of the house to greet the messenger. “I’m Aislin.”

“You have been summoned this evening to dine with Sir Miles of Arklow. I would suggest that you wear something more femininely appropriate.”

“What…dinner? Doesn’t he know that…?”

The messenger raised his hand. “some us in the Keep understand your dilemma. The good Knight has, in fact, been told of your situation by Sir Nevan. However, he does not believe it to be true.”

Ina, upon hearing the command, stormed towards the rider. “What nonsense is this, Niles?”

“Mistress Ina.” The messenger backed up his horse nervously. “I’m sorry, but what I told your grandson is true.”

“Tell this Sir Miles that I’m sick, tell him I died.” Aislin turned to his grandmother in panic.

“Understand that this is not my decision. Mistress Ina, please see to it that he is dressed appropriately. As you know, Sir Miles can make life quite difficult for you and your family if your grandson ignores this summons.”

“Sir Miles, or whatever he calls himself, must be insane.” Aislin turned back towards the cottage; there was no way he was going to have dinner with this Knight.

Macha ran forward to stop him. “You have to do this.”

Spinning around angrily, it immediately deflated, seeing the tears in her eyes. “Why.”

“Remember, my grandmother was at one time a Court Healer. I know what the nobility is capable of.”

“Gran?”

Ina shook her head sadly. “I won’t force you, Aislin, however Macha is right.”

“Why would anyone think I’m a girl?”

Both his grandmother and her apprentice gave a small laugh.

Reaching up, Ina walked over and gently cupped Aislin’s face. “I’m sorry I laughed, but I don’t think you have much choice, sweetheart.”

“This is stupid; you know that. Fine, I’ll do it, but I won’t be happy about it. What do I need to do?”

“Niles, please tell your master that my-granddaughter will be ready. Now, if you excuse us, we have some work to do before she is presentable enough to be seen at the Keep.”

--0--

Aislin looked down, he wasn’t particularly enamored about wearing a kirtle, but he could tell the high quality of the fabric. Used to the coarse linen fabric of his daily wear, even the undergarments, a cotton chemise, and what he was told was silk, felt quite nice on his skin.

“I never realized that you had my mother’s clothes, Mistress Clar.”

Two chests had been left behind, one full of his mother’s beloved books and other personal items the second, which he hadn’t seen until today was full of clothes. While going through the outfits and other items in the trunk, the young man became quite confused.

The clothing alone confirmed that his mother’s station in life had been much higher than a simple common village wife. However already pressed for time to get ready for dinner, Aislin would have to hold off looking through the rest of the trunk for another day.

Thankful for his grandmother’s and the miller’s wife’s help, they finally finished the last layer of his outfit, belting a particularly nice dark blue sleeveless over the gown.

Noting the older women’s quiet stares, Aislin became very uncomfortable. “I look like a fool, right. I knew this wouldn’t work.”

“No.” Ina looked at Clar for support. After a good amount of complaining, and after throwing Macha outside, Aislin finally removed his clothes and submitted himself to their will. Still, at no time, did she believe this would be the end result.

“As your grandmother says, truth be told-”

“I’m coming inside even if you’re not dressed.” Macha, who had been standing at the door the entire time, burst into the room. “By the goddess Aislin, you look beautiful.”

“What?”

The two older women nodded in confirmation.

Amazed, Ina inspected her grandson’s gown. “If it weren't for the fact I changed your swaddling clothes Aislin, I wouldn’t believe you were ever a boy.”

“True, I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes.” Clar let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The boy was the spitting image of his mother. “Aislin, you make a very lovely woman.”

The young man frowned, not sure how to take the compliment from his mother’s old friend.

“Come back to the cottage; let me fix your hair.” Macha grabbed his hand, dragging him out of miller’s home.

“Wait, people in the village are going to see me.”

“Why does that matter now?”

“I guess it doesn’t.” Aislin came to a stop a few steps beyond the cottage. It came as no surprise that those outside already noticed his new outfit.

“Ignore them; we still have things to do.” Surprisingly enough, not a single person had a disparaging remark as they passed through the village. In fact, all of them looked upon Aislin in silence.

“How do you walk like that?”

“Like what?” Afraid to make eye contact, the young man stared nervously ahead.

“Like a woman, actually like a noblewoman.” It was as if Aislin’s natural grace had been suddenly enhanced.

“Do you remember the harvest festival? Lord Kelvin sponsored a tourney. Quite a number of noble ladies attended.”

“You were watching them enough to learn how they held themselves.”

The young man was quick enough to note the irritation in her voice. “Well, they were hard not to notice walking around in all their finery.”

Macha nodded, but the frown didn’t leave her face.

Aislin gave a small laugh, which caused the young apprentice to blush. “Sorry, truth is if I didn’t walk this way, I would have already fallen on my face. No matter how nice it feels, it’s quite difficult to move quickly with all of this fabric around one's legs.”

“The dress looks very beautiful on you.”

“Thanks, not something I expected to hear today, if ever.”

Laughing, the young girl pulled Aislin into his grandmother’s cottage to the back room. Making him take a seat, she began to braid his hair.

“Your hair needs to be a little longer for this to work properly, but we will make do.”

Aislin closed his eyes; her hands felt nice. Suddenly he felt her soft lips placed upon his. Opening his eyes, the young man found that Macha had already gone back to fixing his hair.

“Not that I’m complaining mind you, but did you kiss me for any particular reason?”

“Because you’re beautiful and because I wanted to.”

“Very nice dear,” Ina said, interrupting the two as the older women entered the cottage.

“I often helped my mother with her hair.” Standing back, the young girl smiled at her work. “One last thing.”

“Ina, what happens if Sir Miles decides that-?” Clar looked down at the boy, he might look like a girl, but she was well aware what the Knight probably had in mind for after dinner.

Aislin smiled. “Don’t worry; I will inform him I am coming down with melancholia.”

Clar stood back, shocked. What boy would think of even using the women’s affliction as an excuse?

Ina laughed at her friend’s discomfort. “Remember, my grandson, although not a healer has been assisting me since he was young. Trust me, Clar; he is quite knowledgeable about how the female body works.”

Ina’s apprentice came back into the room, holding a small bronze amulet attached to a silver chain. “This is my mother’s.” She said as she slipped it over his head.

“Macha reached over to hold Aislin’s hands. “It will bring you luck.”

Looking into her eyes, he realized the two of them would need to sit down and talk after he returned from the Keep. That is if he returned. Ina smiled at the two children warmly, but her thoughts were interrupted by a wagon pulling up outside the door. “It’s time, Aislin.”

Nodding the young man stood, only to be surrounded by the three women who fussed over him, adding one final touch, a long gray cloak to complete the outfit. Finally presentable, he stepped outside and calmly approached the wagon.

The two men in Lord Kelvin’s livery sat in shock at the sight of the beautiful woman who stepped out of the cottage. They had expected some village girl dressed in some ill-fitting feast day attire but not the lady approaching them. Without thinking, one of the men leaped from his seat to help Aislin into the wagon.

“Please come this way, Mistress.”

Thankful for the help, as there was no way he would have been able to climb into the wagon by himself, Aislin thanked the young man. Little did he realize because he was nervous, he spoke slowly, which also happened to be the mannerism of a higher station lady. “Thank you, Master?”

“My apologies, I’m Phelan, and that is Sean.”

“Nice to meet both of you.”

“Enjoy your dinner, dear.” Ina approached the wagon as it started to leave.

Rolling his eyes, which produced a giggle from Macha, Aislin waved one last time as the wagon turned around to head back to the Keep. Once again, the villagers stopped what they were doing to stare at the boy, or at least who they always thought was a boy.

This lack of reaction didn’t make him feel any better. While dressed in his mother’s clothes, Aislin half expected the villagers to turn violent. If nothing else, the usual spiteful comments, however, the lack of any reaction was a bit unnerving.

Finally relieved, as the wagon crossed over the stream on a wooden bridge that separated the Keep’s lands from the village proper, Aislin turned to appreciate the countryside. No longer barren in the clutches of winter, he studied the Orchards off in the distance where the trees were beginning to bloom.

“Mistress, I see that you are admiring the Orchards.”

Lord Kelvin’s lands were known for its apples, including the hard apple cider produced ever year. The apples were also a much-needed source of food during the harsh winters.

“Lord Kelvin’s lands had a particularly good crop of apples last year.”

“Yes, he did. Although between you and me, Mistress, I would be happy not to eat another apple for some time.”

Passing another orchard, a group of men stood up as the wagon approached with the foreman unexpectedly taking off his hat. As they continued to draw closer to their destination, Aislin became more and more nervous.

Since the messenger arrived, the whole experience had been unreal. However, the reality of meeting a Knight whose obvious intentions were much more than just a meal made him want to run home.

It was one thing to dress up in his mother’s clothes; it was quite another thing to pass himself off as a female no matter what his grandmother said.

Crossing a third and final wooden bridge, the wagon came to the edge of Loche Glas, the small lake located on Lord Kelvin’s land. On the water, off in the distance, Aislin could see the tall curtain wall, the outer defenses of the Lord Kelvin’s Castle.

“Mistress, have you been to the Keep before?”

“Yes, although I had not been invited to dinner.” Aislin gave a small nervous laugh.

“Do you have relations in the Keep?” Sean asked while turning the wagon towards the entrance of the castle.

“No, my grandmother and I met with Master Ibor while he was still alive.”

“The Alchemist.” Phelan turned in his seat.

“Yes.”

Looking impressed, the man pointed happily towards the castle. “Oh, see Mistress, we are almost there, you should be with your Sir Miles in no time at all.”

Even to the uneducated, the castle’s defenses seemed daunting. To be able to pass through the gatehouse, the wagon had first to cross a long wooden bridge, which in the threat of danger would be destroyed by the castle defenders.

The bridge continued across the lake, becoming part of the drawbridge. Although the strong wooden structure allowed entry into the castle, it could be quickly raised by long thick chains if the castle ever came under attack.
Now approaching the gatehouse, to some, it might seem welcoming, but to Aislin its appearance was like the maw of some great beast. He realized that the Keep could very well become his prison.

Deciding that there was very little he could do about it now, the young man sat back and tried to enjoy the rest of the journey.

Chapter 3

Crossing the castle’s inner bailey, Sir Nevan made his way into the Keep in search of dinner. As there had not been a hue or a cry for the guards, he assumed that the Wisewoman’s grandson had been sent safely home after being introduced to his cousin. Thankfully it ended peacefully; the thought of punishing the boy for Miles stupidity didn’t sit well with him.

Passing through the Great Hall, he expected to find his cousin moping about in one of the parlors. Unable to find him, the young Knight became annoyed to hear from one of the servants that his cousin had asked to dine in the Solar. Obviously Miles had found a new companion; however, the woman had no business being in the family’s private area.

With half a mind to make an issue of it, the young Knight came to a halt as soon as he entered the room. Who was the beautiful woman who sat across from his cousin? He would have expected to have been notified if a noble woman’s party stopped for the night at the Keep. Where did this she come from?

“Why cousin, now this is a surprise.” Sir Miles stood, followed by the young woman. “I thought that you had business with the Constable this evening.”

Nevan could tell that Miles was not pleased with being interrupted. Hiding his grin, he entered the room, “I finished early. Why don’t you introduce me to your dining companion.”

Sir Miles looked confused for a moment, then nodded. “I assumed the two of you had met before. Mistress Aislin, may I introduce Sir Nevan.”

Aislin almost lost it when Lord Kelvin’s son entered the room. So far, the evening had been rather stressful. Positive that he looked like a boy in a dress, no matter what his grandmother said, the young man waited to be arrested as soon the wagon entered the Keep. His appearance instead caused quite a commotion. The servant who initially met him in the courtyard panicked, quickly sending another servant to find Sir Miles.

The young Knight crossed the courtyard, obviously annoyed, but his attitude changed immediately. Instead of being brought directly to Sir Miles's bedchamber as expected, the two ended up in a small sitting area near the Great Hall.

By the way, the servant ran about setting up the small table, the change of dining venue must have been a complete surprise as well. Aislin understood that he was being treated differently, perhaps it was his mother’s clothes, other than that he didn’t know exactly why.

“Sir Nevan.” Coming down into a curtsey, Aislin felt Lord Kelvin’s son approach taking him by the hand. The young man almost jumped when he felt warm lips pressed upon it.

Helping him rise, the young Knight smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Aislin.”

Sir Nevan couldn’t help but shiver as she looked up at him. Her piercing blue eyes were mesmerizing. Walking around the table, the young Knight motioned to one of the servants for a place setting. A little confused at the introduction to someone he thought he knew, it became apparent to Nevan that the beautiful creature standing in front of him, no matter what the villagers had professed, was female.

“I believe I will join you.” Nevan smiled as he took a seat at the table. “So, what were the two of you discussing before I came into the room?”

“Tapestries, my Lord,” Aislin quickly answered, of all things to have a conversation about. Traveling with his grandmother, he had only been to a few other castles, but he admired those tapestries he had seen. Surprisingly enough Aislin knew his limited knowledge was still far superior to that of Sir Miles.

“I was not aware that this was an area of expertise for you, cousin.”

Sir Miles made a face. Obviously, Nevan had planned this interruption beforehand. He couldn’t blame him; the young woman was enchanting. “We were discussing the tapestries found in Baron Ruarc’s Great Hall.”

Nevan scratched his chin. “I see. I assume that means you have been to Lisheen Castle, Mistress Aislin.”

“Yes, I was a guest along with my grandmother.” When he was younger, Aislin grandmother held a high office with the Wisewomen. During that time, he had met several Court healers, including Macha’s grandmother.

Sir Nevan found that intriguing; most villagers never traveled further than the next village. As the second course, rich pea soup was set on the table the three began to discuss difficulties of travel.

“You seem to know the Kingdom rather well.” Sir Miles sat back motioning one of the servants to remove his trencher.

“I have traveled through most the southern half of the Kingdom; the rest though is from what I have read.” Aislin thanked the servant, who took the soup away. Between being terribly nervous, and the richness of the food, he decided that smaller portions would be prudent.

Neither Knight missed that the young man dined like a proper lady, unlike the two men who finished off the soup and a loaf of bread each. Aislin however, just didn’t want to walk into his grandmother’s house sick to his stomach.

“So she can read.” Sir Nevan whispered to his cousin.

To both young men, the beauty in front of them remained a mystery. Besides her clothes, which rivaled anything the noble ladies of the household wore, her demeanor, the way she held herself, said that she was a gentlewoman. But if so, why was she living in the village.

“By your coloring, Mistress Aislin, your family must come from another part of the Kingdom.”

Pulling off small pieces of a stuffed meat pie, she nodded. “My mother’s family, who I have been told I take after is from Ardglass.”

“On the Goul River?”

Aislin smiled, obviously, Sir Miles being from Arklow had heard of his mother’s hometown. “Yes, her father was a merchant.”

Sir Nevan appeared startled; the rich merchant houses of Ardglass were famous. “Which family?”

“Dunne.”

While one of the servants filled Aislin’s cup with raspberry wine, Nevan leaned over to his cousin. “Dunne, the name sounds familiar. Do you know what they trade?”

“Textiles.”

Nevan nodded, from listening to his father’s complaints about the cost of buying clothes for both his mother and sister, he gathered that the young woman's outfit must be worth at least the same price as a good warhorse.

Both Knights began to wonder what political infighting within the merchant guilds kept her isolated in a village. Both of them also realized they had been improperly addressing her as well. Thankfully, she had been gracious enough not to be offended by it.

Looking at the young gentlewoman in front of them in a new light, literate, well-traveled and coming from a powerful family, both men sat back and contemplated the situation.

Sir Miles, a landless Knight, understood that marriage to Lady Aislin could be advantageous. As a third son, the chances of him marrying well was uncertain. The young woman, however, would be a perfect match. With a merchant family background, she would be able to manage a household better than any Bailiff. As for wealth, although she lived with her grandmother, she still had sufficient income to garb herself in clothes befitting one of her social status. Thoughts of a large dowry danced in his head.

To Sir Nevan, a marriage in the near future was not assured. One of the reasons why both his parents were away was to find him and his sister a suitable match. The most likely outcome for both siblings would be a marriage into one of the nearby Lords’ household.

However, Nevan knew, at least for him, that the closest families’ female children were either married or too young. The more he thought about it, the more auspicious it sounded, what would be the chance that a suitable candidate living in the nearby village?

Obviously, her social standing might be an issue; however, as a rich merchant’s granddaughter, that might not pose too much of a problem. What would appease his father, as a local, Lady Aislin would have a great deal of influence with the villages that surrounded the Keep. Nevan looked forward to introducing the young woman to his mother. Now, the question remained about her father.

“Your father?” Sir Miles asked before Nevan finished that thought.

Aislin smiled sadly; he didn’t really remember his father. “I was told he was a soldier. He died when I was very young. According to my grandmother, your uncle, Sir Nevan, the Duke placed him under the command of some of the local levies during some sort of rebellion. He was killed in a battle east of the River Mar. I don’t know the details; my mother always refused to talk about it.”

As the two Knights looked at one another, Sir Nevan mouthed the word. “Captain.”

Thankfully, the two Knights didn’t press Aislin for any more questions about his family. Why they were asking confused him, if the two of them were trying to determine his true gender, questions about his mother didn’t seem necessary. Thankfully whatever answers he gave pleased both Knights. If he didn’t know any better, during the rest of the meal, the two men seemed to be vying for his attention.

Sir Nevan, due to him being the heir, was quite learned; however, it was something both his parents insisted upon. While discussing the books the two of them had read, the young man was intrigued that she had a good enough relationship with several merchants that she often traded books with them.

Sir Miles, on the other hand, although he knew his letters, such things didn’t seem to interest him. What he enjoyed was riding, hunting, falconry, and other noble pursuits. Aislin feigned interest, which pushed the Knight forward to boast of his exploits in detail.

What both men found interesting, was Mistress Aislin’s medicinal knowledge. Neither was surprised that she was not her grandmother’s apprentice. Someone of her social standing didn’t need to do such work. However, having a wife knowledgeable about plants and herbs would make sure that any children would be healthy.

With the meal complete, Aislin heard the watch give the hour. With a smile, he said. “It’s getting late. I should be getting back home before my grandmother becomes worried.”

To his surprise, both men agreed and happily escorted him through the Keep. Somehow, with his mother being a merchant’s daughter, his status had been changed in their eyes to that of a gentlewoman. Thankfully, that had offered some protection from any unwanted advances, for now.

Rowena silently walked across the stone courtyard, entering the inner bailey as her mother and father spoke with her betrothed. Dinner at the Castle had always been a girlish fantasy, although, in her dreams, she sat at the head table next to Sir Nevan and his parents. Still, eating in a small dining room across from the Keep itself, and being served by the Castle’s servants had been thrilling.

“I’m pleased that you enjoyed our dinner, Rowena. I looked forward to sharing more of them with you in our future together.”

The young girl looked down and blushed. “I do as well.”

Looking up, she noticed her parents and Master Oran looking across the courtyard as a small group of people exited the Keep. Immediately Rowena recognized Sir Nevan, who every young girl in the village secretly wanted to marry. Standing next to him was the new Knight Sir Miles, but the third person must be an actual lady of the court.

A small pang of jealousy gripped her chest, as Sir Nevan helped the woman put on a beautiful cape. Rowena looked down, ashamed how dowdy she must look compared to the young woman speaking to the two Knights.

“Master Oran, what a surprise to see you and who, pray tell, are these good people.” Sir Nevan motioned for them to step forward.

The Seneschal quickly motioned his guests to follow him, and upon drawing close, all bowed or curtsied to the young Knight. “Sir Nevan, may I present my betrothed Rowena and her parents, Master Colcothar and his wife, Mistress Seara.”

“Ah yes, I remember you’re the village’s Headman.”

“Yes my Lord.” Master Colcothar didn’t raise his head.

“My Lord, may I apologize for not being present when your guest arrived. I didn’t realize-.” Later he would be horrified to discover that the Keep had originally sent a common wagon for the gentlewoman.

Sir Nevan waved him off. “No apologies necessary, Master Oran. Although next time Lady Aislin visits perhaps proper protocol should be followed, yes?”

“As you say, my Lord.” Master Oran bowed apologetically.

“Aislin” Rowena spoke up, receiving a stern look from both Sir Nevan and Master Oran.

Looking surprised, her friend smiled. “Rowena, good evening.”

About to say something about how he was dressed, Rowena stopped seeing the panic in his eyes.

Sir Miles looked at the group. “You know this girl, Aislin?”

“Yes, she and I grew up together.”

“Splendid, bring your friend tomorrow when you come to the castle for lunch. Afterward, we can go hawking together. I know you ladies always seem to need an attendant or two when you go out. I will have Nevan assign a few more if your friend is not enough.”

“Hawking, Miles?” Sir Nevan gave his cousin a look.

The young Knight laughed. “I asked her first.”

Rowena, now in awe, how familiarly her childhood friend talked to the two nobles, turned towards her parents. Knowing that they never liked Aislin, she was surprised her mother hadn't already said something. What the young girl found was that her mother looked both shocked and a little scared.

Master Oran and his guests stepped away when a carriage obviously for Aislin approached. “So we will see you tomorrow, Aislin.” Sir Miles reached over and kissed her hand. “Please say yes.”

“Of course, Sir Miles.”

“Excellent, and as I have said before, please just call me Miles.”

Sir Nevan took the lead and escorted Aislin to the carriage. “I did enjoy our dinner together; hopefully I will find time to join the two of you tomorrow.”

As four mounted men-at-arms approached as an escort, Aislin looked at his friend standing in the darkness. Remembering the uncomfortable wagon ride to the castle, he asked. “Sir Nevan, do you think it would be an imposition if my friend and her family rode with me back to the village.”

The Knight looked surprised as the thought never occurred to him. Realizing that the young woman might want her friend's assistance later in the evening, the Knight turned his head to speak to the four who stood off to the side.

“Master Oran, I don’t see this as a problem, do you?”

“No, of course not my Lord, thank you very much Lady Aislin.”

While the others were quickly ushered into the carriage, a servant came running up with a leather-bound book and passed it to Sir Nevan. “Here you go, Aislin, the third volume of the Book of Lord Stephen.”

“Sir Nevan, I can’t.” Aislin began.

“Of course you can, and when you finish, we will be able to have a nice conversation on the birds of the Lupine Mountains.” Sir Nevan smiled, almost getting lost again in the woman’s eyes. Sir Miles might think he had the lead; the young man thought however while Lady Aislin looked over the book on birds tonight, she will be thinking only of him.

Later, after passing through the gatehouse on the way back to the village, Aslin closed his eyes in frustration. He had mistakenly believed that with the meal finished, this nonsense would have come to an end. Now, there was going to be lunch tomorrow as well.

It’s not that he had a bad time with the two Knights, quite the opposite; there had been very few times in his life where people found his company enjoyable. However, he was under no illusion why the two Knights wanted to spend time with him. Although he didn’t understand it, believing that he still looked like a boy in a dress, the thought made him laugh. Aislin had expected the worst thing to happen to him was being given a spear and thrown into battle.

Reaching for her friend’s hand, Rowena whispered. “Aislin.”

“How was your dinner with Master Oran, I didn’t know that you and your family were going to the Keep tonight.”

The young man desperately needed to get Rowena talking instead of the three of them asking questions about why he was wearing his mother’s clothes. Aislin didn’t mind being in the carriage with his friend, but why did he agree to take her parents’ home was beyond him.

Rowena frowned, not understanding what exactly was going on. She noticed even Aislin’s movements and manner of speaking seemed entirely different from the boy she thought she knew. It was as if she was speaking to a completely different person.

“Yes, my parents and I dined with Master Oran inside one of the small dining rooms.”

“Err Lady Aislin; I assumed you had supper in the Great Hall?” Master Colcothar asked.

“No, the Solar.”

“I see, thank you, Lady.” He gave a nervous smile then looked at his wife, who only shook her head.

“So tell me more about dinner, what did you eat.” Aislin, seeing they had no more questions, prompted his friend again.

Rolling into the village, the group stopped right in front of the headman’s cottage.

“Aislin.”

“Come, Rowena, you can speak to her tomorrow. Lady Aislin, I will make sure that my daughter is properly attired for your lunch tomorrow. I will also have her come by in the morning and help you dress.”

Rowena’s father thanked him as well, leaving Aislin quite surprised at the sudden change of attitudes.

Upon thanking his escorts, and drivers, Aislin entered the cottage. With the door closed, he collapsed to the ground like a puppet that had its strings cut. Macha, however, caught him, holding him close.

“I have you; it’s OK.” Slowly she guided the young man back to her room.

“Macha.”

“Can you take your dress off by yourself?”

“Well actually no.” The young man gave a small laugh. “Where is my grandmother?”

“Asleep, she drank quite a bit this evening with Mistress Clar. The two of them were terribly worried about you.”

“And you.”

“I knew you would come home.” She whispered, then reached over and kissed him on his lips. “Now turn around.”

“I have to go back tomorrow.”

The young woman laughed. “Of course you do, I imagine you made a good impression on those two Knights.”

“Macha.” Aislin began to whine then she placed her hand on his mouth.

“Tomorrow, you’re exhausted.”

Nodding, he turned to head back to the front of the cottage but was steered instead towards his old bed. “Wait, I can’t share a bed with you.”

“Girls share beds all the time.”

“I’m not a girl.”

“It’s fine Aislin, come.”

Not having enough energy to argue, the young man was carefully placed under the covers. The young apprentice soon followed, covering both of them with another blanket. Reaching over, she drew him close.

“I thought I was going to be killed.”

“I know, but you’re safe now,” Macha said while gently stroking his head. “Go to sleep; we will talk about it in the morning.”

Aislin realized that declining either of the Knights’ invitation was no longer an option. The threat of exposing his true gender was too great, and the consequences of that discovery, he just didn’t want to think about.

However, if he continued down this path, it didn’t pose any less of a threat. With a seemingly dismal future ahead of him, Aislin slowly drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 4

Aislin slowly opened his eyes, confused for a moment; he turned his head to find a sleeping Macha only inches away. Studying her face for a few seconds, he couldn’t help but smile. Since last year, especially during the winter months, he felt drawn to her, but there could only be one outcome of such a relationship. Once she found out the truth, like Rowena, she would begin to distance herself.

Before that day, the two of them planned a secret life together away from the village. Unknown to even his grandmother, in what turned out later to be nothing more than a dream, Rowena planned on running off with him to find his family. Aislin felt that his mother’s relatives would welcome him, and together they could start a new life.

But that new life was never meant to be. Afterward, at least she insisted they would always be friends. Nevertheless, after seeing her with Master Oran, the young man understood that dream too had ended as well. For him, dwelling on such dreams long enough could be fatal.

A promise at his mother’s deathbed, to live a happy life, had always seemed just out of reach. He worked hard, tried not to worry his grandmother, tried not to become a burden to the village, tried not to let the villager's hateful words hurt him, but it never mattered. Whether his life came to an end with a spear in his hand, or at the headman’s block, the results would be the same. Perhaps that’s the way it was supposed to be.

Slowly, moving his arm from underneath the young apprentice, Aislin slipped out of bed. For a moment, he thought about taking off the chemise but decided to keep it on. It felt nice against his skin. Ignoring the chamber pot on the ground, he headed outside.

Not for the first time, he thanked his father’s foresight of building an outside privy, allowing the contents of the cesspool to be used as fertilizer. Slipping back into the cottage, he discovered his grandmother sitting in front of the fire, a cup of warm cider in her hands.

“Good morning.”

Aislin bit his lip; she had that look about her. Either his grandmother wasn’t feeling well, or something horrible happened. Praying it was the drink, the young man made himself a bowl of porridge before taking a seat.

“How are you feeling?”

As if realizing Aislin’s presence for the first time, Ina smiled. “I’m fine, sweetie, nothing more than a little headache. We need to talk about a few things.”

The young man nodded, he had been dreading this day for some time. Obviously, the village Elders decided to add his name to the next levy, or perhaps the Knights discovered his true gender and planned on executing him? Lost in his thoughts, Aislin didn’t hear what his grandmother was actually saying.

“Wait, what did you say?”

“The village Elders wanted to know if you have finally decided to stop pretending to be a boy and dress appropriately as one of your station.”

Aislin sat back, stunned.

Seeing his confusion, his grandmother tried not to laugh. “During the meeting this morning, they all kept talking about the beautiful gentlewoman that crossed the village green. When you put on your mother’s clothes, to me, it was as if watching a butterfly crawl out of its cocoon for the first time.”

The young man looked more than a little confused. “Gran, you know that was just an illusion. I can’t be a real woman, anymore more than I can be a real man.”

“Aislin, what do you mean by that?” To their surprise, Macha stood at the doorway.

As the world went dark, the half-eaten bowl of porridge slipped from Aislin’s hands.

His grandmother, seeing what happened, reached her grandchild’s side before he fell to the ground. “Sweetie, it’s alright.”

“Aislin?” Macha looked suddenly frightened.

“Get me a wet washcloth, child.” The Wisewoman commanded her apprentice as she gently held her grandchild to her breast.

Moments later, feeling the cool water on his forehead, Aislin opened his eyes. “What happened?”

“You fainted.”

Smiling weakly, he felt chagrined for showing that side of himself. “Sorry, you surprised me, Macha.”

The young woman nodded her eyes full of concern, took a seat across from him.

“I guess I owe you an explanation." Looking lost in thought for a moment, Aislin suddenly began. “We are all aware that our roles in the village, actually in the Kingdom, are defined by our social class and our gender.”

Not understanding exactly where the conversation was going, she simply nodded.

“Women in the village are expected to follow these roles, they clean, cook, sew, give birth, take care of those children, and make a home for their husbands. Men too fit in a similar role; they became blacksmiths or thatchers, they cut wood, till the fields and along with their wives make a home.”

Macha smiled, she loved to hear him talk. He had this ability to take very complicated things and explain them in a way that anyone could understand. Although what he was speaking about now, everyone knew.

“Now what happens if someone can’t follow those roles? Wisewomen live outside those constraints, correct? No one expects them, due to their oaths to the goddess, to become a village wife. The infirm and sick too, like Renn. No one expects her to become a mother someday.”

Their friend had fallen into a pond when she was much younger, nearly drowned. However, Renn was never the same again. She had just passed her fifteenth summer but still acted like a girl ten years younger.

Looking up at his grandmother, Aislin gave her a half-smile. “Now, what happens when a person is neither male nor female?”

Standing up, he let the chemise fall to his waist.

“You have...”

“Breasts.” They weren’t very large; however, there was no mistake in what they were.

“I haven’t been totally honest with you either, Aislin.” Macha looked away, embarrassed. “When you came home last night, I helped you undress not because you needed help.”

“I see.” Slowly, he slipped the chemise back on his shoulders. Sitting down, Aislin waited for the inevitable.

Like Rowena, his grandmother’s apprentice would, of course, be disgusted; hopefully, it wouldn’t ruin the relationship between the two of them. Worst case, perhaps he would just leave the village.

“When I saw you in your mother’s dress, I didn’t see a man. Like your grandmother said, you’re so beautiful. Since I first met you, Aislin, the way you walk, the way you talk, everything about you tells me that you’re a girl. Although your grandmother told me that you’re her grandson, I have always wanted to ask, why do you pretend to be a boy.”

Aislin looked up confused. “Because I have a...”

“Yes, I know.” The young girl looked embarrassed. “When you were sleeping, I checked.”

“Macha!”

“I’m sorry Aislin, I’ve lived here for six months and I have never seen you without clothes on. I haven’t even seen you with your shirt off. And yesterday, you wouldn’t allow me to help you get dressed.”

“Of course not.” He said, pointing to his chest.

“How do you?”

“She, I mean, he binds them,” Ina explained.

Looking at her apprentice, the Wisewomen smiled. Making the young woman her apprentice had been a good choice. Compassionate, gifted, among other things, Ina could tell that Macha’s feelings for her grandchild had not changed in the least.

Unlike the girl Rowena, who Ina was so disappointed with. With a truly understanding woman, it was possible for the two of them to make a life together; instead, she almost lost Aislin that spring two years ago.

The young woman flinched, rubbing her own chest. “Sounds painful.”

Aislin shrugged, it was getting more and more uncomfortable. He was positive they were still growing. “Not that I have much choice.”

“You do, why don’t you just be a woman?”

“Remember those roles we have to play. As a woman of the village, I would have been required to do certain things. The cooking and cleaning I do already, however, the rest is not possible. To any man, I’m abhorrent, unnatural. Anyway, this way, it’s easier to hide what a freak I truly am.”

“Aislin, stop.” Ina reached over and held her grandchild close. He sounded so cold, detached. No one should think of themselves that way.

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Macha, with tears in her eyes, asked her master. “I don’t understand why you just didn’t have Aislin become your apprentice. I can tell that she, I mean he has the ability.”

Ina frowned. “I tried to do just that. As a member of the Council of Elders, I petitioned for my grandchild to become a Wisewomen. However, it was against tradition. Your grandmother and a few others sided with me; the rest refused even to test him.”

“Is that why you resigned?”

“Yes, I couldn’t work with women who themselves are considered outcasts, who would turn away from someone who has such potential.”

Before that dream ended like all the others, Aislin felt that there was a chance of happiness. Afterward, it was just more disappointment.

“Even the Council of Elders insists that everyone fit properly in their roles. So, here I sit a boy, at least in the eyes of the villagers.”

“ That’s not true, Aislin.”

The young man looked surprised at that comment. “But everyone knows I’m a male, right?”

Ina shrugged. “I agree with Macha; there has always been some doubt. When your mother carried you, everyone assumed you were going to be a girl. Even growing up, there was quite a bit of confusion. So my dearest, coming out yesterday dressed in that beautiful gown pretty much made up everyone’s mind.”

“I see.” Aislin sat back, defeated. “So, what do I do now?”

Macha clapped her hands together. “We go through those trunks of yours and see what other outfits we can find for you.”

With Mistress Clar’s husband and son bringing the clothing trunk to his grandmother’s house the night before, the two began to go through the garments. Although Aislin thought he had plenty of time before the lunch with Sir Miles, Macha disagreed.

“Your mother had such lovely things.”

Nodding, he ran his hands over an emerald green outer dress. The two of them had already decided that green would be the color of the day.

“If you want, you can try on something.”

Macha smiled. “I don’t think so; her clothing was made for someone, well not as large.”

Aislin looked down at his chest, comparing it to his friend. Blushing, he turned away. “I guess I’m closer to my mother’s size than I thought.”

“I can’t see how you ever thought you were a boy with those big hips of yours.”

“What, they’re not big.” He turned around in a huff.

Giggling, Macha reached over and held them with two hands. “True, but trust me in this, no boy ever had hips like these.”

The two of them stared at one another for a second, then began to laugh.

Turning away, Macha started to go through some of the jewelry. “What do you think of the Knights?”

“You mean Miles and Nevan?”

“Unless you know of two others.”

Aislin gave a half-smile. “They are nice, and I really do like the attention they give me.”

“So, does that mean you like boys?” Macha bit her lip while setting out some nice pieces for him to try on later.

Smiling, Aislin looked down at the young girl. He could tell that she was nervously waiting for an answer. All he could do was be honest with her and with himself. “I don’t dislike them.”

Finding it strange that thought didn’t disturb him, before meeting the two Knights; he never really gave it much thought.

“I see what about girls.”

“Can’t say I dislike them either.”

Macha smiled, then reached over and kissed him deeply. “Good.”

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Rowena walked into the room and stopped, seeing the two of them in each other’s arms.

“You are, but don’t worry about it. I’m assuming by your outfit that you’re here to assist her ladyship in getting properly dressed for her luncheon with Sir Miles?”

Macha examined the other girl, dressed in most likely her best dress, conceded that she was pretty. Still, there was no way this simple village girl was going to outshine her Aislin today.

“Her?” Rowena looked confused for a moment and then turned Aislin. “Does she know?”

“Yes, everything. Besides Rowena, the village Elders have already declared that it's no longer appropriate for Lady here to dress as a boy anymore.”

Aislin sighed. “True, although I guess I could.”

“No you’re not, look at these outfits.” Macha looked distraught. “Why in the world you would want to ever dress like a boy again is beyond me.”

Aislin laughed, touching the green outer dress once more, they were nice clothes. “Alright, fine, doesn't matter now anyway.”

“Good now, sit down; let’s do something with that hair of yours. You can’t wear it the same way you wore it last night.”

Rowena watched the two, her heart feeling heavy. She couldn't remember if Aislin smiled that way for her. Did she smile that way for Sir Nevan and Sir Miles as well?

Looking at her clothes, the Rowena felt embarrassed. In the morning, as her mother set out the new dress, she was so excited how lovely she would look. Now, looking at Aislin’s clothes, her jewels, the way she held herself; it didn’t seem fair.

How could her friend, who she always considered a boy, be so beautiful? Days before, she was going to offer him a place in her household at the Keep, and now it appeared that the roles might be reversed. No, it didn’t seem fair at all.

--0--

On the far side of the Castle on the edge of Loche Glas, a group of young men and women stood on a small slope while watching Sir Miles dine with Lady Aislin. Rumors already flew around the castle, stating that both Knights were vying for her affection.

Moreover, if there were a chance that she might become the next Lady Lochlainn, then the household servants would make sure that her lunch was perfect.

Rowena, on the other hand, stood nervously away from the others, as Sir Miles and Aislin spoke across the table. She couldn’t comprehend why Aislin didn’t appear nervous speaking with the Knight as if it was something that happened every day.

“You are Lady Aislin’s servant, correct?” A large woman, with a pitcher in her hand, walked up to Rowena.

“I guess.”

The women frowned. “Child, either you are, or you aren't.”

“Yes.”

“Good here.” She set the pitcher in the young woman’s hand. “Your lady commented that she enjoyed last night’s raspberry wine. Why don’t you keep her cup filled, while we get ready for the next course?”

Nodding, Rowena took the pitcher and walked over to Aislin. Without thinking, the young girl began to pour just as her friend reached for the cup, spilling wine all over her sleeve.

“Be careful there, girl, that outfit costs more than your entire village.” Sir Miles barked angrily, almost making her drop the pitcher of wine on the ground.

“I’m sorry.”

“Being sorry is not going to replace the dress.”

“It’s fine, Miles, nothing more than a little wine.” While another servant helped clean the mess, Aislin looked at her friend. Leaning over, she whispered, “Are you alright?”

Rowena nodded. “I’m sorry, just nervous.”

With a smile, Aislin took the pitcher of wine out of her hands and placed it on the table. “Miles, can you give us a moment?”

“Of course, dear lady, anything you desire.” Turning he growled, “I knew he couldn't stay away. Here comes Nevan.”

Aislin laughed. “Why don’t you greet him while I talk to my friend?”

Off to the side, she reached for her hands, but Rowena pulled them back.

“It wouldn't look proper.”

“I see.” Aislin sighed, feeling bad. Without even being asked, Rowena had been forced to come along.

Aislin really wanted the two of them to have lunch at the table along with Sir Miles but understood that would be impossible. She tried to explain, but it just seemed to make Rowena more uncomfortable.

“Do you want to go home? I would understand.”

“What, walk?”

“No, I would ask someone to take you back to the village.”

Rowena shook her head. “No, my mother insisted that I help. As Master Organ’s wife, I will most like be one of Sir Nevan’s mother’s attendants.”

Master Oran had explained to her parents that he planned to introduce her to Lady Gweneira as soon as his Lordship returned,

“So you’re not angry with me?”

“What no, sorry, I’m just nervous, Aislin. Please go back to your lunch.”

Standing away from the group, Rowena felt her chest feel heavy once more as Aislin gave a curtsey to Sir Nevan. In turn, the Knight laughed, bowed, and kissed her hand. Why was this happening, Aislin wasn't even a real girl.

Taking a seat, Sir Nevan motioned to one of the servants for a cup of wine and a plate of food.

“So, are you planning on joining us this afternoon as well?” Miles asked while sopping up the last bit of gravy from his plate.

“I do unless I get called away again.”

“Is everything alright?” Aislin asked as she sipped her raspberry wine. Unlike the men, who plowed through more of the food, she was already stuffed.

Breaking off half a loaf of bread, the Knight nodded. “Nothing to worry about, I assure you. Just some last-minute details concerning that black marker we pulled out of the forest a few days ago.”

“I meant to ask you about that.”

Sir Miles smiled while pointing the finger at his cousin. “See, I told you she would ask. Her grandmother is the village’s Wisewomen after all.”

“Ignore this rascal; what did you want to ask.”

“Why did you move it? I mean, normally, such things are left alone.” Aislin hoped that she wasn't going to offend the Knights by simply asking that question. Thankfully, nothing had happened so far, so perhaps her fears were unwarranted.

“It wasn't by choice, I assure you.” Sir Nevan leaned back in his chair; he had ordered that the household only disturbed him over life or death emergencies.

With his cousin on the prowl, Sir Nevan didn’t want anything to distract him from his time with Aislin. “The Royal Thaumaturgist commanded my father to bring it to the Capitol.”

“Master Maolmuire?”

“Do you know him?” Sir Miles asked, intrigued. Apparently she seemed well informed of the goings-on inside the realm; not a surprise from the daughter of a merchant house.

“No only by reputation. Why would he want one of the standing stones? His power comes from summoning spirits and elementals to do his bidding.”

Sir Nevan smiled. “I’m afraid I wasn't given that much information.”

Aislin flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that playing with such things has never turned out well.”

The young knight gave Aislin a warm smile. “No, I’m happy you asked. It shows that you are concerned for the well-being of the villagers and those who live in the castle.”

“It’s as my cousin said, were not informed of the why. Perhaps we should have spoken to you or your grandmother first. By what you are implying, we were indeed fortunate that nothing happened with us disinterring the stone.”

Sir Nevan looked at his cousin and rolled his eyes, then frowned. “Your grandmother, I've meant to ask, is she a relation by blood?”

The young woman looked surprised at the question. “No, my mother made her my guardian before she died.”

“So, you have no relatives in the village?”

“No.”

“I think your mother was very wise to make your grandmother, your guardian.”

Aislin smiled. “I think so, too, Miles.”

Sir Nevan scratched his chin. Apparently, she had been safe in the village all these years. What transpired to force her mother to flee from the north, he didn’t know. What he did know was that a simple village Wisewomen offered no real protection.

First, he would need to speak with his mother, explaining Aislin’s plight. The young man knew his mother well enough that she would be shocked to find that a gentlewoman lived in a villager’s cottage.

Secondly, he would enlist the help of his sister to convince Aislin to move into the castle. That shouldn't be too difficult. Both young women would be excited to find someone of their own age and similar social standings to talk to. Finally, the young knight would need to convince his father.

Sir Nevan believed that after introducing Aislin to his parents, they would agree that she be the perfect choice for the next Lady Lochlainn.

Chapter 5

Macha walked back and forth at the edge of the herb garden, watching the road that led into the village. Biting her lip, a habit her mother had unsuccessfully tried to break, the young apprentice finally sat down.

“You’re nervous.”

Looking up, the young girl smiled. “A little, Aislin seems to be taking her own sweet time coming home.”

Ina put her hand over her eyes, blocking the rays of the setting sun; the carriage that had taken her grandchild away had been gone for most of the day.

“Mistress Ina, this morning, I insisted we call Aislin, a girl, especially after the village elder’s proclamation. It was all just a bit of fun, and I’m ashamed to say to get back at Rowena. But now I feel as if I forced it on her.”

Ina frowned, deciding whether to tell her young apprentice what had transpired early in the morning. The proclamation had been entirely her fault. Unknown to either Macha or Aislin, before the sun even broke the horizon; she had already confirmed her grandchild’s lineage with the village Elders.

Thankfully none of the men recognized the coat of arms displayed on the Patent of Nobility; such recognition would have raised far too many questions.

“What did she say?”

“She said it doesn’t matter.”The young woman looked thoughtful.”I mean, it should, shouldn’t it?”

Ina shook her head. “That child has a habit of not complaining even if it’s painful. However, I believe that right now, it’s in her best interest, especially with the eyes of some very powerful men on her.”

“I know, and that’s what scares me. Still, what do you mean she won’t say anything even if it hurts her?”

“Aislin never complained when the village children picked on her. Usually, they left her alone, mainly because of Rowena, but I knew that it happened."

Taking a seat next to her apprentice, the Wisewomen also kept a close eye on the road waiting for her grandchild’s return.

“When she was, I believe nine years old; my grandchild walked into the cottage, holding her side with the left side of her head covered in blood. She passed me without a word.”

Macha's eyes opened wide.

“Without a tear in her eyes, although I knew she had been crying, she simply cleaned herself off. When I asked about it, Aislin refused to tell me what happened. Instead, she said it was nothing, just pain.”

“That’s awful.”Macha rubbed her tears from her face; she couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to hurt Aislin. “But why didn’t she say anything?”

“She didn’t want me to worry, after that; I wouldn’t let her leave my side unless it was with someone I trusted. When the village Elders explained to me why she received such a beating, I began to understand my grandchild a little better. See, Aislin had been protecting Renn.”

“Renn?”

Ina smiled. “Aislin will ignore her own pain, but she will not tolerate another to suffer. To her usual tormentor’s surprise, she leaped on them to help her friend. What I was told later, one of the men had to pull her off the largest boy in the village.”

Macha looked shocked for a second and then giggled. “Still…”

“I know, that’s why when the notion of being called up in the levy came up, she didn’t complain. Aislin explained to me that if she didn’t go, then someone else would have to take her place.”

“But that won’t happen now. Even if she insisted on being male, none of the gentry could be forced into the King's service.”

“True, but she won’t be any less happy about it. Macha, now that you know my grandchild’s secret, does it change your feelings for her?”

“No, why, should it?”

The Wisewomen smiled, reached over, and gave her apprentice a kiss on the head. “By the goddess, you are indeed a treasure.”

Macha smiled at the compliment. “I will say, though, since Aislin has started wearing her mother’s clothes, something is different about her.”

“In what way?”

“When I opened the door in the cottage and saw her in that dress, it was like seeing her for the first time. When she walked across the village green, that too seemed so out of place. Have you seen the way your granddaughter holds herself now? You know how she complained at first, fought it even, but the entire time her eyes burned liked the sun.”Macha shivered a little, feeling it all over her body. She had always been drawn to Aislin’s eyes.

“I agree, I told her something similar.”

The young apprentice smiled. “And she denied it.”

“Of course.”

Laughing, the two missed an older woman running across the village green, making her way directly to the healer’s cottage.

Nora, the wife of the village’s Ferrier, stood before the pair in an obvious state of panic, said. “Mistress, I need your help.”

Slowly making their way back to the village, after a long day, Aislin decided that she truly loved the birds. Although, in truth, she couldn’t find pleasure in the hunt itself, the birds were magnificent.

Having no problems with controlling the animals, the Lord falconer even praised her himself, Aislin had spent the entire afternoon with a small Sparrowhawk on her arm. However, not everyone enjoyed the day’s outing.

Aislin sadly noted that Rowena’s lack of enthusiasm and interest had not pleased the castle’s servants. People who someday, she knew as the wife of the Castle’s Seneschal worked with her friend daily. Several times, Aislin wanted to take her aside but felt it would have just made matters worse.

“I’m sorry that your mother insisted that you come out with me today.”

Rowena had been surprised herself. Last night, as soon as her family walked through the door to their cottage, her mother left to speak with the village Elders. From what her father said, her mother planned on going to the Constable in the morning.

Although Rowena tried to get her mother to change her mind, someone else obviously did. Before breakfast, Elder Argyle took her outside to talk, coming back inside a few minutes later, visibly shaken.

“Don’t worry; I did have a good time, well watching the birds anyway.”

Once again, she fell silent. For almost half the trip, the two didn’t speak again until Rowena suddenly asked. “I do have a question, why did they bring up their lineage?”

Aislin smiled. “At first I thought Nevan and Miles were trying to decide if we were all related, afterward well I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out. I don’t know why, but I believe they were trying to impress me.”

“Impress you? Why should they impress you?”The young girl looked away then quickly changed the subject. “It sounded like Sir Nevan, and Sir Miles is related to King Conall.”

“Most of the nobility are related through one line or another. Sir Nevan grandmother, the Countess of Moyry, is the King’s sister. Sir Miles’ grandfather, our own Duke Blathmac, is the King’s brother.”

“But they are not directly on the line for the throne.”

“Correct, only through a male heir. As Duke Blathmac had three daughters, including Miles’ mother, he cannot inherit. Neither can Sir Nevan’s. His father being the only son of Countess Moyry.”

Although at times a bit confusing, Aislin could see where this was going. From commoner to noble, this topic was one of great concern.

“So what happens if the Crown Prince does not have an heir?”

Prince Burin, with his second wife, a much younger woman, had been married for almost five years but still without an heir.

“Hopefully, he will proclaim another. Otherwise, I’m afraid we will see fighting among the noble houses once more.”

Twenty years ago, when the boy King, William the Younger, died, he left an empty throne. Three families, the Ciannacht, Osraige, and the Armhaighe all took to the field.

The largest, the Armhaighe, made an alliance through marriage with the Ciannacht. Less than a year later, with the last male heir of the Osraige family slain at the Battle of Rathlind, the eldest son of the Armhaighe line took the crown.

Rowena shook her head, had her friend always known these things? Again she felt that distance between the two of them growing. “You know, I’m jealous of you.”

Aislin gave a half-smile. “Why?”

For a moment, it looked like Rowena had planned on saying something else but instead pulled on her dress. Giving Aislin the first real smile of the day, she said. “Compared to mine, all of your clothes are all beautiful.”

“Not true, I have seen your clothes, and that outfit is very nice too.”

“But yours are so much nicer.”Turning back around, the young girl leaned against her friend. “I’m sorry, it’s just I wished nothing had changed between us.”

As the carriage rolled into the village, Aislin didn’t reply, not understanding what she didn’t want to be changed, and too afraid to ask.

After releasing the guards and drivers, Aislin found the cottage empty. Deciding that she needed to learn how to disrobe herself, the young woman stubbed her foot on the corner of her mother’s trunk. Strangely enough, it sounded surprisingly hollow.

--0—

Ina watched as Macha rubbed her temples; the healing had taken a lot more out of her than usual. In bard’s tales, the King’s Healer would wave a hand, and magically all of the hero’s wounds were healed. However, such things only happened in stories. A healer’s job was to let the body do most of the work, only strengthening its natural healing ability. Poultices, potions, and herbs simply made their job easier.

Chatting softly, both Ina and her apprentice found Aislin, sitting in the middle of the front room fully dressed. In her hands, a small gold disk attached to a long golden chain.

“Oh, Aislin.”The Wisewomen said, turning to her apprentice, she asked. “Can you leave us alone?”

Macha nodded; with a worried look at her friend, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Gran?”

“First of all, I cannot tell you everything; it’s for your own safety.”Pulling up a chair, she took a seat by her grandchild’s side. Reaching down, Ina took the medallion into her hands. About the size of her fist, the disk bore an image of golden sun. Surrounding the sun, in the ancient script it read. “In these hands shall she heal a kingdom.”

“Where did you find it?”

“In a hidden compartment inside the clothing chest.”It took a little effort to pull back the false side, but what she discovered surprised her even more. “Was my mother really the daughter of a merchant?”

Ina smiled. “Yes, however, when her family discovered that she had the gift, they sent her away. Still, a daughter of a rich and influential family does not simply become a Wisewomen.”

“No, they become one of the King’s Healers.”Aislin took the medallion back, studying the inscription once more.

“Yes, that is how I met her.”

“Like Macha’s grandmother, you were a Court Healer.”Aislin already surmised this information, as her grandmother had stood on the Wisewomen Council for some time.

Ina just nodded, unable to speak, afraid of what her grandchild might ask next.

“Did you actually plan on allowing me to join the levy?”

Caught unawares by the sudden change in questions, she answered truthfully. “No.”

“I understand.”Slowly rising from her chair, Aislin headed towards the back of the cottage.

“Are you angry at me?”

The young woman turned around and smiled. “No, why should I be. I know you, and my mother were just trying to protect me. Oh, why were you out so late?”

“Master Jaralth came down with the Summer Fever.”

“So early, and didn’t he have it last year?”

The summer fever came out of the Oáche Foraoise, the swampy forest region that lay for miles south of the town, every year. Hardly ever fatal, most only caught it once or twice in a lifetime.

“Perhaps it’s because all of the men worked deep in the woods the last few days. Macha did the healing; she is coming along quite well thanks to your teaching.”

Aislin smiled. “She’s your apprentice.”

“Others might disagree.”

Clutching the medallion to her chest, Aislin asked. “Will, you ever tell me the whole truth?”

The Wisewomen flinched; they had been lying to her the whole time, but it was for her own good. “Aislin”

Reaching over, she kissed her grandmother on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

Standing in the small bedroom, which smelled more like a stable than a cottage, the three women regarded the sick man’s illness. Master Jaralth, who had been feeling better the night before after the healing, once again took to the bed ill.

“Did I do something wrong?”

The Wisewomen shook her head. “No, Macha, even Master Jaralth said he felt better last night."

What the three of them didn’t understand, why did his wife Catlin and both of their boys fall ill? The Summer Fever never reacted this fast; normally, it started slowly peaking sometime in the middle of the summer and disappearing totally before harvest.

“By all of its symptoms, it does sound like the Summer Fever?”Aislin said worriedly while mixing another poultice.

All three women looked up when Mistress Clar stuck her head through the doorway. “Ina, I’m afraid to say this that there are two more whole households sick.”

The Wisewomen sighed. “I will get to them once I am finished with the Ferrier and his family.”Turning to Aislin, her grandmother asked. “I need you to go into the forest. We are not ready for this.”

The young woman nodded. Unfortunately, she knew the medicinal plants needed to help with the symptoms had not bloomed. Perhaps, she could find some of the lesser-known alternatives deeper in the Oáche Foraoise, she thought to herself.

Ina seeing what she planned in her grandchild’s eyes said. “No, keep out of the marsh. It’s not safe.”

“Then I’ll escort her.”A male voice spoke from the front of the cottage.

“Miles?”Aislin walked into the other room, surprised to find the Knight standing at the cottage entrance.

“I was told that there was an illness running through the village.”Sir Miles said, behind him stood a half a dozen armsmen.

“You shouldn’t be here, Miles.”

“Neither should you; I came to take you back to the castle.”

Aislin sighed, funny just a week ago, she had dreams of rescuing Rowena, and now it seemed a Knight came to rescue her. “I’m needed here.”

“Not right now.”Ina came out of the backroom. “Sir Knight, if you wish to help then please escort my granddaughter into the marsh.”

“Gran.”

“If you insist on going Aislin, I would feel better if you take your Knight along.”

Miles smiled at that, giving the women a courtly bow. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Alright, you need to get out of the village anyway. You haven’t had this illness, have you?”

The young man shrugged. “No, but I never get sick.”

“I’m sure.”Aislin smiled. “I’m going to borrow a few of your armsmen.”

The young Knight looked confused for a moment. “If you wish, but why?”

“We need to see if the illness has spread to the other villages. If not, then perhaps they have some of the medicines that we need.”

Sir Miles nodded. “Perhaps the castle might as well.”

“Thank you, Miles, if you can send a rider up to the Castle and the villages I will tell them what my grandmother needs.”

--0—

Just as the sun began to set on the horizon, five very tired riders entered the village Aislin, Miles, and three armsmen. Two armsmen seemed to be injured, one with a bandage on his arm, the other on his leg.

“Your skill at riding has improved.”Sir Miles said gently as he helped Aislin off her horse. He could sympathize as she made faces, obviously sore in unusual places. At least having a knack with animals, she learned quickly, but it didn’t make her any less sore.

Squeezing Miles's arm, she walked over and checked the two wounded men.

“I’m sorry you were hurt on my behalf?”

“Not true, Milady; it was Hamish here that fell into the nest.” The armsmen with the bandaged leg pointed to his partner.

“Biggest damn lizard I’ve ever seen, I never thought I would ever see a real basilisk. Of course, it was almost my last time as well.”The large red-headed man banged his bandaged arm on the pommel of his saddle as he laughed.

The half-sleeping lizard had struck out at the two men, poisoning both. Thankfully, the Basilisk, being nocturnal, had been asleep allowing the rest of the armed men to dispatch it with ease. If it had been at night, the day’s events could have turned out much worse.

“And if you had not been there, we should have died from the poison.”

“Strange logic Ross, since the only reason why you were in the marsh was because of me.”Aislin smiled. “You both need to take it easy for the next three days.”

“Yes, Milady.” They both nodded their heads.

“I will see to it, Aislin.”Sir Miles said, coming up to stand next to her. “Perhaps you should come to the castle tonight; you haven’t even had dinner.”

“No, my grandmother will need me. I also need to make medicine with the plants we gathered today.”

“Then, tomorrow, I will come by after lunch.”

“Miles, I told you. You have to stay out of the village. Getting the Summer Fever for the first time as an adult can be very serious.”

“Then, I’ll send a carriage for you.”

“Miles.”

“She will be happy to accept your invitation to lunch tomorrow Sir Knight.” Ina stood at the cottage doorway.

“Grandmother.”

“Macha and I are more than capable. Plus, we were able to get more of the Solas Leaf from two of the villages and the castle. Thankfully, the illness has not spread. If you would please thank Sir Nevan for us, Sir Miles, the medicine will be of much use.”

“Then I shall send a carriage, tomorrow then, Milady.”Reaching for Aislin’s hand, he gently kissed it.

Thanking the armsmen again, the young woman retreated inside the cottage.

“Were you able to help everyone.”She held her hand to her chest.

Ina smiled at her granddaughter’s reaction to the kiss. “Yes, I ended up healing while Macha administered the medicines. The illness seems to be acting a little different than usual, perhaps because it’s so early. Hopefully, we will have good news tomorrow.”

Aislin nodded, but not really paying attention anymore. She could still feel Mile’s lips on her hand. She knew she had feelings for Macha, but did she also have the same feelings for Miles? With what happened with Rowena two summers ago, she stopped thinking about it entirely.

Pushing the thoughts away, Aislin walked into the kitchen. First food, then a long night making medicine and after everyone in the village was feeling better, she decided that perhaps she would sort through her feelings.

Chapter 6

Sliding into the barrel of water, Aislin closed her eyes, letting its warmth soothe her tired muscles. Since Macha moved into the cottage, she hadn’t had a real soak; a habit picked up from her mother. Normally, today wouldn’t have been any different, but her grandmother and her apprentice were busy in the village.

With Aislin exhausted from being up most of the night making medicines, she had been ordered to stay at home. With the illness spreading throughout the village, once Aislin returned from her lunch at the castle, she would be needed in the evening but only if fully rested.

Since fretting about it served no purpose, Aislin sat back and enjoyed the warmth of the water. More importantly, she hoped it would remove the smell of the swamp. Unfortunately, the poor outer-dress she wore yesterday, now soaking in a tub next to her, probably wouldn’t be so lucky. None of those outfits had any business being near a swamp, and if she continued to dress as a girl, she needed to take care of her clothes better.

“Continue to dress as a girl,” Aislin mumbled.

Looking down at her body, what did others actually see? A girl dressed in boy’s clothes or a boy dressed in girl’s clothes. Admittedly, she rather enjoyed the feeling of the silk and cotton on her skin. But it was more than that; she didn’t want to go back wearing her old clothes. Was it wrong that she preferred her mother’s clothes?

Although raised a boy, part of her looking like a boy, did that ever really make her a boy? Could she go back to the way things were before, and did she want to?

Unfortunately, as a male, her prospects were slim. Sons traditionally learned their father’s trade. The miller’s son became a miller. The wheelwright’s son became a wheelwright. Remaining sons would work for the oldest brother or become apprentices themselves.

Fatherless, a master would have to be willing to take her into their family. Plenty of second and third sons, boys her age had become apprentices, but no one seemed interested in her.

Did becoming one of the gentry change those prospects? Without patronage, joining a noble household would be impossible. Other positions, such as Bailiff, Seneschal, and Constable, always fell to the oldest son. Joining the King’s service as a Knight or officer, a popular place for second and third sons of the gentry, with her body was out of the question.

Slipping deeper into the water, Aislin concluded the dream of becoming a member of her mother’s relative’s household seemed just as unlikely. The Merchants she knew, all had a hard life, traveling over dangerous roads, moving heavy and bulky goods.

“Continue to dress like a girl.” She mumbled once again.

Would remaining a woman make her life easier? Funny thing, for one who supposedly raised as a boy, why did she have the skills needed to make a proper household. She could cook, clean, and mend clothes as well as her grandmother. But whether a noblewoman or commoner, she could never really be a proper wife.

Both Miles and Nevan, and for that matter, any male, would desire something that physically for her was impossible. No matter how much she entertained feelings for both Knights, she couldn’t give them what they desired most, heirs.

Thinking about Macha, the young woman grabbed her chest, plunging her head into the water. Wisewomen didn’t marry, and if things were different, she would have been happy to be Macha’s companion for life.

However, the half-person she was now, Aislin, couldn’t inflict that on Macha. Was it fair to her grandmother’s apprentice, that the person she wanted most wasn’t a real man?

Aislin had no prospects, no hope of them either. How would she provide for the two of them, could she even give her a child. Knowing enough about her body, Aislin knew it would never happen.

Would it have been too much to ask the gods to have made her a complete person? All Aislin could see before her was unhappiness. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if she just disappeared in the swamp.

Shooting out of the barrel, gasping for air, the Aislin stared at her wrists. Fine scars could be seen, only visible now because of the warm water. No, she refused to think such thoughts again, a promise from two years ago, she made to herself.

When Rowena fled, after discovering that the boy she planned to run away with had breasts, Aislin decided that life wasn't worth living. Later in the day, while lying in a pool of blood, Aislin looked up to discover her grandmother had returned from healing earlier than planned.

She could still remember the look of anguish on her grandmother’s face, making her realize what her death would have done to those that cared for her. Unwilling to inflict such pain again, Aislin promised to accept all the trials set out before her.

“Aislin.” A male voice called out, making her squeak in fright.

Leaping halfway out of the water, when the cold air brushed against her nipples, Aislin squeaked again. Plunging back into the warm water, she covered her breasts with her hands before calling out testily. “Nevan.”

There he stood on the other side of the cottage, his mouth open wide in shock. She had purposely set up the barrel of water in the back of the house, under the impression that with all that was going on, she might have some privacy. Obviously, she was wrong.

--0--

Sir Nevan spun around, his face flushed with embarrassment. However, the view of the young woman as she came out of the water, made whatever punishment he was going to receive worth it. It also settled some confusing questions.

When Miles declared that he planned to bed the young man, Nevan knew it would be best if he talked to Constable Sinclair first. The young Knight, unaware of any laws or customs concerning Wisewomen relatives that might cause problems, though it would be better to ask before Miles made a fool of himself. What came as a surprise, the Constable informed Sir Nevan there was an understanding between his father and Aislin.

When Nevan explained the situation, the old man thought at first that Miles intended to take Aislin as a squire. When informed otherwise, Constable Sinclair became confused. The older man had expected the boy to be a giant of a man taking after his father not small in stature like his mother.

“Make sure Sir Miles doesn't harm the boy. You may punish Aislin if he causes problems, doubtful, though, as he always sounded like a smart lad. Either way, I’ll have to report this to your father.”

After seeing Aislin in the Solar, garbed in all her finery, Sir Nevan thought the old Captain must be confused. The next morning, Sir Nevan met with him once more. This time, he insisted on meeting the young lad who obviously was dressing as a woman.

Riding from the castle, as the pair came into view, the Constable reigned in his mount. “By the goddess, Aislin's the spitting image of” Suddenly the older man started to laugh. “That fox. It seems I owe you an apology, Sir Nevan. Her father has outsmarted us again, even from the grave.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Doesn't matter, just confirms what I heard but didn’t think was true; should have known better.” The older man watched as Sir Nevan looked at Aislin fondly.

“You plan on courting her?”

“I believe so.”

The Constable nodded. “Fine looking women, your father isn't going to be pleased. Get your mother on your side first, but lad, don't expect your father to be happy.”

“Is there something I should know about Aislin?”

“Not my place to tell you; talk to your father when he returns. Still, you have good taste; by the gods of battle, what a fine looking woman.”

Sir Nevan agreed.

--0--

“I’m sorry, Aislin; I didn’t know you were back there.” The young man tried to apologize, but the wide grins and soft laughter of his men-at-arms didn’t help. Nevan did note; those men were wise enough to hide, letting him take the full brunt of the Lady’s wrath.

“Obviously, I was under the impression that Miles wasn't going to send a carriage until much later.”

“We have a situation up at the castle.” Sir Nevan said, starting to turn around but stopped himself.

“The fever?” Aislin silently cursed. If it had already spread to the castle, the chances of it being the common summer ailment seemed slim.

“Yes, although I have had it twice, along with the armsmen I brought with me. So we should be safe enough.”

“I’m not positive it’s the same illness, Nevan.” The raven-haired woman leaned forward, frowning. With Mistress Olina, the Court Healer traveling with Sir Nevan’s parents, someone needed to go to the Keep.

“Sir Miles is sick as well,”

Aislin grumbled, of course, he was. “Let me get dressed.”

“I brought you a horse.”

“Oh, joy.” She said. Her bottom hadn't recovered from yesterday’s ride. “Nevan.”

“Yes, Milady.”

“I need to get dressed.”

“Yes.” The young Knight had not moved, not realizing what she was saying.

She sighed. “That means I need my privacy, take yourself and your snickering companions to the front room. I will be with you in a few minutes.”

More laughter burst from the other side of the cottage, as the young Knight with a half-smile on his lips, ordered his men to make a hasty retreat.

Entering the front room, in a time that surprised most of the men, Aislin set her grandmother’s bag across her shoulders. She had pondered for a few minutes what to garb herself in. Obviously, with most of her mother’s clothes, she needed Macha’s help to get dressed; however, one outfit, in particular, caught her eye.

She discovered an all-white outer-dress, belted and pulled over a kirtle but missing the usual tight lacing of a corset, which allowed it to be slipped on easily. Made from the same luxurious fabrics as her other clothes, the simple design allowed it to be worn comfortably on a campaign.

Thinking back, Aislin should have realized its significance in the trunk. If you included the white tabard, with silver trim adorned with a golden sunburst on the chest, a gold medallion, and silver chain belt of office, then you would have the complete attire of a King’s Healer. With the tabard and chain missing, and her mother’s medallion hidden, Aislin hoped no one would recognize the dress.

After wrapping a heavy gray cloak around her body, with Nevan’s assistance, she mounted the horse. Hooking her right leg around the pommel of the saddle, Aislin flattened out the skirt. “Before we go, I need to speak to my grandmother.”

A short distance later, she dismounted, meeting Ina at the front door of the village headman’s cottage.

“Aislin, do you think that outfit’s wise?”

“No.” She smiled and leaned forward. “The fever has reached the castle.”

“So I gathered,”

Ina noted, her grandchild had quite the escort. Sir Nevan’s presence had not gone unnoticed. Before Lord Kelvin’s son made himself known to the villagers at most once a year; now, with interested in Aislin, his appearance was becoming fairly common.

“You will be tired later, let Sir Nevan find you a place to sleep tonight in the Keep.”

“Why?”

“It will be safer.” Ina sighed. Unfortunately, her granddaughter needed protection from more than just the illness. Rowena’s mother hadn’t stopped causing problems for her in the village, spiteful woman.

“Has…?” Aislin caught her breath. The Summer Fever rarely killed anyone, only those already sick or the very old.

“No, but it’s only a matter of time. Everyone we thought we healed falls ill again the next day. “

Aislin looked at her grandmother for a second and then reached up with two hands cupping her face. “Let me look at your eyes.”

Ina tried to turn away; she was thrilled and sad how perceptive the child had become.

“You have it.” Stunned, the young woman dropped her hands. A Wisewomen getting ill was almost unheard of. Almost she thought to herself, remembering her mother.

“Gran, you know this is not the Summer Fever.”

“Yes, I know. At this point, all we can do child is make people comfortable and let the malady run its course. However, with the way things are now, the entire village will be sick in the next few days.”

“How is Macha?” Aislin looked around, hoping to catch a view of her grandmother’s apprentice.

“She is busy working, as you should be.” Ina knew if she told her grandchild that Macha fell ill, she would insist on staying.

“Tell her…”

“I know child, now be off. They need you up at the castle.”

Before Aislin left, she found the headman’s wife standing at the front door of the cottage. After viewing Sir Nevan and his man of arms, the woman curtseyed. “Lady Aislin.”

Feeling uncomfortable at the display, she asked. “How is Rowena?”

“I’m afraid she is not feeling well, Milady,” Seara said, without sounding too worried about the health of her daughter.

“If she is sick, let me…”

“Thank you, Lady Aslin; I will pass a message on to her about your concern. I’m sure you have much more pressing things to do today.”

Aislin wanted to protest but also didn’t want to cause any problems. Hugging her grandmother, she walked back to her patiently, waiting for escort.

Mounting once more, she whispered. “May the gods protect you all.”

--0--

Aislin stood over the ill Knight, touching his face with her hands. After entering the Keep, she had quickly taken control, much to Sir Nevan’s delight. The illness had started in the barracks the day before but had already spread to the servant quarters by day’s end. When the sun came up this morning, half of the Keep had come down with the fever.

Withdrawing her hands from the Knight’s face, Aislin frowned with concern; no wonder her grandmother and apprentice had insisted that the illness was the Summer Fever. Through her healing senses, she could feel its familiarity but also its differences.

“Aislin, why are you here?”

The young woman smiled as Miles opened his eyes. “So, you don’t get sick?”

The Knight grumbled. “Not often, sorry.”

“For what?”

“Getting sick.”

Aislin smiled. “If you get better, I’ll forgive you.”

Mistress Gillian, ordered to help Aislin, had watched the gentlewoman with interest. Twenty years ago, a wife of a soldier on campaign, she had spent most of her time assisting the Kings Healers.

At first, she didn’t understand why the young woman, who Sir Nevan had been courting, had been summoned to heal the sick members of the Castle. However, as Lady Aislin entering the Great Hall, dressed in white with a healer’s bag across her shoulder; the older women felt a sense of relief.

Thinking the young woman too young to be a King’s Healer, she watched Lady Aislin as she worked. By the time she entered the sick Knight’s room, Gillian had no doubts about the woman’s identity. What she didn’t understand, why didn’t Sir Nevan inform the castle that Lady Aislin was one of the King’s Healers?

Not that she ever understood the motives of nobility; they were all a little daft. If Lady Aislin didn’t wish the honors, then it was not the business of a servant to point it out. Mentioning it in passing to one of the other women, Gillian realized the news quickly spread throughout the castle. It seemed to have a positive effect. Lady Aislin now had more people willing to help than she knew what to do with.

“Gillian, can you take me to Mistress Olina’s workroom.” Aislin was surprised that a small army of women followed her, all under the supervision of the older servant. From her questions, she knew why Mistress Gillian had some experience with the healing arts.

“Yes, Milady, you wish to see what other herbs and medicines Mistress Olina might be storing.”

“Exactly, although by the symptoms, the illness appears to be the Summer Fever, however, from what I see now, it’s some malady we haven’t encountered before.”

Reaching for her healer’s bag, Aislin realized another servant picked it up to carry. After thanking the woman, she began to follow Mistress Gillian into the hallway.

After walking up and down several flights of stairs already, she was all too happy to discover the workshop close. Hopefully, Court Healer didn’t take all of her supplies on her travels; she thought to herself as they reached their destination. Opening the door, Aislin immediately became envious of Mistress Olina.

Scattered around the room were books on medicinal plants, a small table with rare herbs sitting in small pots, and on the far wall a shelf covered with all kinds of dried plants. As Aislin walked around the room, she wondered if her grandmother had all of these plants and herbs readily available when she was a Court Healer.

“Gillian, you seem to know a little about the healing arts.”

“Yes, Milady.”

“Good, if we can get more help, I would like to start making poultices.”

After giving instructions on the brewing of herbal tea for Sir Miles, Aislin headed towards the wall to start inventorying the plants. She could tell that it was going to be a long day.

--0--

Passing through another small village, the men in the wagon had already traveled two days from the Keep. At this pace, the five men who made up the detachment noted by week’s end, they should be able to deliver the black stone to the Duke’s men in Wrixton. The only issue that the drivers and escorts noticed were that all of their animals appeared to be more skittish than usual.

“Liam, you don’t look well, are you sick?” One of the escorts eyed the senior driver of the wagon.

“Don’t know.” Wiping off his face, he turned to the man next to him. “Do thou mind if I lay down in the back for a while.”

After the second driver had made the switch, he called back to his friend. “What’s that noise?”

“You heard it too? Thought it was just me.”

“It’s a buzzing noise right, could it be something wrong with the cart?” One of the mounted men-at-arms moved his horse closer with an actual thought of joining the driver in the back of the wagon. Like Liam, he hadn’t felt quite right since the morning, either.

“We should reach the town of Kilrush this evening. We will have the cart checked out before we leave on the morrow.” Sergeant Aed, the leader of the group and the last of three riders escorting the monolith, couldn’t make out the noise but believed the men.

Although the detachment had made good time so far, it appeared that they were going to be delayed if they needed to find a healer.

--0—

Sir Nevan entered the Great Hall, not at all surprised to find Aislin asleep at one of the tables, a half-eaten plate of food in front of her. According to the Bailiff, she had visited every sick member of the Keep today.

“Mistress Gillian, has a room been made ready for Lady Aislin?”

“Yes, your lordship.” She whispered.

“I’m awake.” Aislin looked up and smiled at the young Knight. Reaching for a bit of bread, she stuffed it into her mouth. She wished she could have done more for those she met today. Although now much more comfortable, those struck with the strange malady were still very ill.

Everyone greeted her warmly, but the Constable’s reaction to her presence had been rather odd. At first nervous, thinking he knew her true gender, she found the older man to be quite charming. Aislin could tell he also wanted to speak to her at length without the other present but knew it would have to wait until the illness abated.

“Enough for one day.” Sir Nevan looked at her with concern. “From what I have been told, you have instructed the servants to make enough medicine for most of the Keep.”

“It’s still not enough; the medicines only help with the symptoms. I need to discover its true cause.”

Aislin knew her grandmother and Macha should have been able to battle the illness if the illness came just from the body alone. Spending time with enough of those ill, the young healer had a feeling that the malady affected more than just the body with a small part of her even questioning if it was truly an illness.

Rubbing her eyes, she stood up. “Nevan, I’ve been sitting here, thinking. I would like to try one more healing. Everyone else seems to be feeling somewhat better, but Miles refuses to do so.”

“He’s a pretty stubborn man.” Nevan grimaced following Aislin and a couple of female servants into the other Knight’s chamber.

To everyone, the young man lying on the bed looked deathly ill. Nevan had been concerned about his cousin from the very beginning. The day before, Miles had been riding around with Aislin in the swamp; now he lay dying.

Aislin moved by Sir Miles's bedside, gently taking hold of his hand. She would need to do more than just strengthen his body. Something told her if she failed, the illness would spread unchecked throughout the Kingdom.

Hundreds of years ago, an illness named the Dearg Bas, the Pox, had spread across most of the known lands, killing noble and commoner alike. Aislin decided her problems now seemed so small compared to Sir Miles, who lay before her at death’s door.

Praying to the gods to grant her strength, Aislin reached out not to heal the body but the spirit.

--0--

Sergeant Aed left the healer’s cottage, motioning his men to follow him. Reluctantly he had left Liam in her care, as it appeared the driver had come down with the Summer Fever.

“You don’t seem all that well either, Sergeant,” One of the younger guards, commented as the group made it's way back towards the inn.

“What manner of dark sorcery have you placed inside my stable?” The owner of the inn accosted them as soon as they came through the door.

“What nonsense is this?” Sergeant Aed looked to the others, who looked just as confused.

When the innkeeper wouldn’t back down, the Sergeant started marching towards the stable. “Fine, then show me the problem.”

Stepping out the back door, the guardsmen recognized the unnatural sound coming from the stable.

“Strange...the carts not moving. Why the noise?”

“I agree; the buzzing sound is even louder than before.”

“Before, so you knew about this?” Reaching for the stable door, the innkeeper said. “I’ve half a mind to kick all of you out this night. Whatever you have placed in there is disturbing my other guests as well.”

“Stop” Sergeant Aed finally realized what had been making the noise, but it was too late as the stable door disintegrated in the innkeeper’s hands.

As a fierce wind consumed the inside of the stable, large fragments of wood scattered in every direction sparing neither man nor beast. Growing stronger, the cyclone continued to expand its destruction, finally encompassing inn and soon the entire town.

When the winds subsided, a creature of nightmares crawled out of the gore-covered ruins. If anyone had lived through its birth, they would have seen a shadowy creature, cat-like in form with a long tail and bat-like wings on its back, silently taking flight.

As the creature climbed higher in the night’s sky, it circled the remains of the town of Kilrush, before finally turning in the direction of Lord Kelvin’s lands.

Chapter 7

Aislin leaned back, suppressing a sigh, with a mug of red-leaf tea in her hand; its warmth slowly seeped into her bones. Only moments before, she had awoken unhappily to find herself in the Castle’s Solar.

Right off the Great Hall, the Solar was the entrance to Lord Kelvin and his family’s private residence; with its warm atmosphere and beautiful furnishings, it was a living area in which the family could find peace from the hectic work going on inside the castle. The same space now allowed Aislin to contemplate what exactly had happened during Sir Miles's odd healing.

Taking another sip of tea, she had to smile. To everyone’s surprise, including her own, the healing turned out better than expected, especially when Sir Miles tried to get out of bed. Aislin, however, didn’t fare as well, but she knew the fault was hers.

Not understanding how much strength would be needed, she threw all of her power into the healing. Thankfully, Sir Nevan caught her before she collapsed on the floor. To save from further embarrassment, as the group passed through the Solar, Aislin was awake enough at least to tell him not to put her in a bedroom.

“You should eat something, Milady.” Gillian shook her head in wonder upon reentering the room. To her surprise, the young healer woke up in Sir Nevan’s arms demanding to be put down. What surprised her even more, the young healer should have collapsed hours ago, not be sitting in a chair drinking tea.

“So have you assisted Mistress Olina as well?” From the herbal tea and food placed before her, Aislin surmised that this was not the first time the woman had helped a healer who had pushed herself a little too far.

Assessing the Kings Healer heath, as the set down another platter of dried fruit, she nodded. “Yes Milady, she knew I had spent several years working for the King’s Healers.”

“Oh.” Aislin gave a half-smile, a blush like a shadow running over her cheeks; so much for someone not recognizing her attire.

Her eyes now full of mirth, Gillian explained. “I followed my late husband, may the gods grant him rest, on campaign when the old King fought against the Trodaá.”

“During the wars on the Western Coast?”

Although she had never been one to be interested in wars, Aislin enjoyed reading about Kingdom history and already knew a little about the warrior race.

For many years the warriors raided the Kingdom from across the Western Sea, burning towns and villages up and down the western sea coast. At times, even the Kings of several coastal Kingdoms would pay the Trodaá not to invade their lands.

Finally, under the firm rule of Giric, the old King marched his armies westward, making war against the Trodaá strongholds. With the help of the Kingdom Engineers, they also ended up reinforcing all of the western towns’ defenses. With the campaigns being so successful, the Trodaá Raiders had almost vanished as a threat from the west coast.

It was also the last time the Kingdom of Dájl Riata, another coastal Kingdom that bordered their lands to the southwest, had allied against the Raiders. With the Trodaá no longer a threat, the two countries had been in a constant state of war, clashing over villages and towns to the west and south of her village.

“Yes, Milady, he fought under King Conall’s banner, that is, when he was still a Count.” She said proudly.

“Well, I, for one, am very glad you here.” Giving her new assistant a grateful smile, Aislin asked. “Oh, do we have any more of that cheese from lunch?”

After a few more bites of food, feeling better, the young healer tried to understand what exactly took place when she healed Miles. One thing for certain, his spirit had been repaired, something as a healer she should not have been able to do.

As a general rule, the spirit world was the domain of the Thaumaturgist, who summoned sprites or elementals to do their bidding. Even the rare Seer, such as the Milady Tiresias, who worked for the King, used her gift of augury to peek into the spirit world for her divinations.

But Healers, although they could feel the energies that surrounded their patients, often using it as a way to direct their own magic, could not touch it directly. To actually to heal the spirit had not seemed possible until today. Sir Miles’ condition just didn’t give Aislin much of choice.

Odder still, with the knowledge of having helped her grandmother and the number of books she read on the subject, it seemed more like a wound.

“It was almost as if he was attacked,” Aislin said to herself, her mouth half-filled with bread. If so, where did the attack come from? Suddenly, the food tasted like ash.

It all made sense; her grandmother had expected something to happen with the removal of the monolith, but it had also been damaged during its discovery. Where was the black stone now? Was it still in the castle?

“Milady?” Gillian asked her voice filled with concern.

“Where is Sir Nevan?”

“I’m not sure Milady, do you need him?”

“I do, but I would like to heal one more person.” Aislin looked thoughtful as she motioned for the older woman to take a seat.

First things first, Aislin knew that since lunch, Mistress Gillian had started not to feel well. Perhaps healing her, who just started being ill, might give a better understanding of what needed to be done. It should also take less strength compared to Miles, who was on death's door.

Hopefully, then, Aislin would then be able to explain to her grandmother and Macha how she had healed Sir Miles; right now she had no clue.

“Is that terribly wise, Milady, considering how much work you have done today?” Her voice drifted to a hushed whisper, it wasn't her place to question the young woman, but she was concerned.

She could already see like most of the King’s Healers; Lady Aislin gave no thought to working past the point of exhaustion to the detriment of her own health.

Aislin nodded in understanding. “I cannot do this by myself; I won’t last very long. So I must be able to explain it to the other healers.”

“Oh, you mean the Wisewomen of your village?”

“Exactly, so Mistress Gillian, I know you haven’t been feeling well.”

The surprised look on the servant's face only lasted a moment, of course, Lady Aislin had noticed. Holding her hands, Aislin released her healing senses. Confident that some force disrupted the natural balance, she slowly repaired the damage done to Gillian’s spirit.

As for Sir Miles, he had been fortunate, his body and spirit had almost separated, which would most assuredly be fatal. The second spirit healing did not take as long, but the young healer still ended up swaying in her seat as if drunk.

“Milady!” she reached out to grab her in shock but pulled her hands back.

Aislin began to run her temples, feeling suddenly drained. “How do you feel?”

“Just fine now. Oh, I am feeling better.”

“Good, as I hoped.” Sitting back, Aislin closed her eyes, surprised at how much the healing sapped her strength.

She now had little hope that this damage would heal on its own; there was no choice but to believe that her grandmother and Macha could help. Otherwise, the prospect of healing all those afflicted in both the castle and the village seemed rather daunting.

“Why are you still awake?” Sir Nevan lounged casually against the door frame, his words full of concern.

After quickly filling him in on what happened and how the healing with Miles went, Sir Nevan looked less than pleased.

“I still don’t see why you have to go back to the village tonight, Aislin.” Sir Nevan grumbled unhappily as they left the Solar. At least she was wise enough not to get back on a horse. Motioning to one of the guards, he informed him of the need for an escort and the carriage.

Passing through the Great Hall, she lowered her voice in volume. “Nevan, I need to speak to my grandmother. There are too many people sick now. If the two of them can help those in the village, then I’ll be able to spend all of my time in the castle.”

“What happens if your grandmother and her apprentice cannot?” The young Knight kept his voice down as well; it would not be good if the castle’s populace discovered how difficult the task of healing was going to be.

The young healer looked down. “I don’t know.”

Sir Nevan reached over and gently took her by the hand. “Either way, it’s not your fault.”

“Am I that obvious?” Aislin laughed.

“Yes.” The young Knight smiled. “I also think you are correct, though, moving the black stone must be the cause of the illness.”

Nevan cursed himself; it had been against his better judgment to touch the monolith. If Master Maolmuire wanted to study the thing, he should have made the trip to the forest.

Entering the courtyard, Sir Nevan motioned for the carriage to come forward. Aislin looked up in surprise as a half a dozen men-at-arms mounted right behind the carriage.

“In the morning, I’ll send a detachment to try and catch up with Sargent Aed. If what you’re telling me is true, all of his men might already be sick. We will also do as you suggest and bring the stone back here and leave it in the tourney field.” The area lay on the other side of the castle, near the lake and isolated.

Aislin grimaced, worried about the armsmen who had been away from the castle for two days. Another part of her was concerned that the damaged black stone might spread the illness to other villages as well.

“The Royal Thaumaturgist, although he insisted that we unearth the stone would still be the best person to study it. If I’m not mistaken, the village Farrier, who first became ill, also found the stone.”

“Mistress Gillian, if you would please accompany Milady Aislin for the evening.” Sir Nevan motioned the old servant forward.

“Nevan”

“Your grandmother has her apprentice, you need the help, and it would make me feel better if someone watched over you.” From Sir Nevan’s expression, Aislin could see this wasn't something that he was going to back down from.

Sir Nevan knew that Aislin if given a chance, would try and heal some of the villagers. When he took her by the hand, the young Knight noticed the very unsteady way in which she walked. Taking the servant aside, he expressed how unhappy he would be if Aislin started healing before the morning.

Climbing into the carriage, Sir Nevan took Aislin by the hand and kissed it. “I will send someone for you in the morning. “

Raising her fine arched eyebrows, she started to protest then relented, seeing the determination in his eyes. He completely understood the situation. If her grandmother and Macha were unable to help, people were going to die.

Sir Nevan felt terrible, but he had responsibilities that lay outside the small village in which Aislin lived. For the castle to run properly and to be able to protect her village and the other villages in Lord Kelvin’s lands, it was essential that members of the Keep be healed first.

Tired from her day’s work, Aislin spoke very little as the group made its way across Lord Kelvin’s land with the carriage entering the village long after nightfall. Looking about, from what Aislin could tell, most of the households were still awake. For people that awoke with the dawn, that meant that a good portion of the village was now ill.

As Gillian watched the carriage and escorts depart, she asked with a little tremor in her voice. “Do you really believe it to be a curse, Milady?”

The two had spoken a little about it just as they were leaving the keep but stopped; it was an uncomfortable discussion. Curses were old magic, dark magic that most thought was only in stories. Some magic powerful enough to destroy the mind, body, and spirit, in turn, created creatures out of nightmares.

Old names best left forgotten such as Athrá, shifters who took the image of your beloved or the Caoranach, shadowy creatures that kidnapped young girls to use as sacrifices by the Black Sorceress.

“I don’t know if it’s a curse, but it’s a good as explanation as any. I really don’t know, Gillian. Whatever malady has befallen those in the castle and village, for certain it’s no illness. Which makes me very concerned, if I hadn't healed Sir Miles this afternoon most likely he would not have survived the night.”

Looking around the darkened village once last time, she felt conflicted. Not because they had always treated her poorly, that never entered Aislin’s mind; no, she knew that she was needed here as well.

However, as much the young healer hated to admit it, it was beyond her capacity tonight. And with it beyond her capacity, there was a good chance people were going to start dying this evening.

As two women entered the cottage, Aislin began to call out for her grandmother, but upon seeing her walk out the back room, the young woman ran over to embrace the Wisewoman.

“Why are you here, child?” Ina looked down at Aslin concerned; the girl was exhausted.

“I was worried about you.” She closed her eyes, resting her head on her grandmother's shoulder. Panic gripped her heart. Throwing her healing senses out, she had to know if the illness had progressed.

“Aislin.” The Wisewomenpulled the child back from the embrace, knowing exactly what was going on. “I'm all right, so I hope that wasn't the only reason you're here. Sir Nevan shouldn't have let you leave; you’re about to fall over.”

“I already did that once today.” Standing back, she sniffed. “There are things I need to tell you. “ Swallowing hard, Aislin held back tears as she introduced her companion. “Gran, this is Mistress Gillian, she has been helping me all day.”

“Thank you for taking care of my granddaughter. I assume she didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Gran,” Aislin groaned then frowned. “Where is Macha?”

“She’s not feeling very well, I’m afraid. You should let-“

Heading towards the backroom, before her grandmother could finish, Aislin went to look for her friend with any thoughts of her own well-being falling to the wayside. Macha was sick, and she could do something about it.

“Macha?”

Walking through the bedroom door, Aislin’s heart suddenly lurched madly. Her friend lay on the bed; her eyes suddenly opened as Aislin stepped into the room. Something clicked deep inside her heart, Aislin just realized all she wanted to do at that moment was throw herself into Macha’s arms.

“I thought you were going to spend the night at the castle.” Her friend’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, though so exhausted she could hardly make herself sit up in the bed.

Reaching out for each other’s hands, Aislin gulped hard; touching Macha with her healing senses required too much effort. Even without them, she could tell like her grandmother, Macha’s illness would soon pose a problem.

As the two soaked up each other’s presence, Macha said. “I’m more tired than sick.” Pulling Aislin’s hand to her cheek, she smiled contentedly. “But I’m happy to see you.”

“You need to take better care of yourself.” Aislin chided her, her own steel blue eyes filled with fatigue.

“So should you.” Ina walked into the room with Gillian right behind her. “What the good Mistress here has been telling me, you were able to heal Sir Miles.”

“Did you really, Aislin?” Macha sat up but still not letting go of her friend’s hand.

Aislin sighed. “I did, but it’s a little more complicated than simple healing.” Taking a deep breath, she started to bring them up to date.

The two women stared at one another in shock, what Aislin just explained didn’t seem possible.

“How did you?” Macha looked at her friend in wonder.

“I don’t know, but I am hoping I can show you.”

“Tomorrow.” Mistress Gillian looked at Ina, who nodded.

Sir Nevan had been emphatic about his desires that Aislin healed no more today. The older woman could tell that the young healer wanted to treat both her grandmother and her apprentice.

“Mistress Gillian will share a bed with me tonight; I suggest that the two of you get some sleep.”

Waiting for the door to close, Macha turned with a seductive smile on her lips. “Let me help you undress.”

Before Aislin could say anything, the young apprentice pressed her lips against hers. The kiss was warm, inviting sending a shockwave of pleasure through her body. Aislin gasped, as her clothes started to fall gently to the floor. Slowly, methodically, she could feel gentle touches as ties and belts from her dress were removed.

When the last article of clothing hit the floor, Macha took Aislin by the hand, gently easing her down into bed. Any thoughts of objecting were covered up by soft, delicate kisses.

Now lost in the sweet taste of Macha’s lips, she moaned as she felt warm hands moving across her body once more. However, as the passion grew between the two, Aislin knew she was fighting a losing battle. Closing her eyes with a contented sigh, she dropped her chin on her girlfriends' chest.

Macha silently giggled. She, too, closed her own eyes, falling asleep their two bodies intertwined. Her love and her desire for Aislin seemed overwhelming sometimes. Suddenly, a sense of protectiveness washed over the young apprentice. The days ahead were going to be difficult for Aislin, but no matter what, she would always be by her side.

--0--

“So you and the Sergeant seem close.”

Two servants made their way from one of the towers, empty platters, and cups in hands.

The younger of the two women smiled to herself as she spoke. “Promise you won’t say anything, but me mum talked to Alaric.”

“So, it’s Alaric now. Well then, I expect you be wearing yellow ribbons in your hair soon.”

Nodding, she was disappointed at her friend's lack of excitement. “Marla, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, it’s just you getting married and all and I almost twenty with no hopes of marriage.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Tis true, Selene, you have a good dowry. My mum has very little with all of my brothers and sisters to feed.”

Like many, Marla arrived at the Keep looking for work to help out her family back at her village. If nothing else, it was one less mouth to feed at home.

“You should do what my mother did; she too didn’t have a decent dowry being an orphan and all. Follow the drum.”

“What?”

“Listen, when the King calls up levies march out with the men. They always need someone to wash their clothes and cook their meals.”

“I’m no camp follower,” Marla snapped.

“Don’t be daft. Me mum, don’t you see, walked through the camp and found the most handsome of men. He was what you call a file leader. He has men under him, making him important. For a bit of coin, agree to cook for his men, wash their clothes, and the like.”

“And what then?”

“You know.” Selene smiled. “Be nice, pay particularly close attention to him. Men always like when a woman is willing to take care of them.”

“I’ll think about it.” Suddenly the two of them looked at one another and started to giggle.

Crossing the courtyard on their way back to the kitchens, the two women missed a catlike shadow lurking just out of the torchlight.

Chapter 8

Aislin drifted in her normal dreams, neither disturbing nor important enough for her to remember when unexpectedly she found herself flying high in the clouds. Below lay all the great Kingdoms, seemingly rich and full of life.

Truly enjoying the feeling of flight, she shot forward quickly, covering the distance between her own Kingdom of Airthir and the neighboring Kingdom of Dájl Riata. Suddenly below her deep in the Forest of Wyre, a great rift opened up. From deep beneath the ground, rich red blood pushed upwards, like molten stone.

The rift did not close but opened further with more of the red flood now covering both kingdoms. From there, it continued to spread its destruction into the smaller Kingdoms to the south and the Grand Duchy of Eilne to the north and the Grand Duchy of Osmond to the east.

The civilized lands, now covered in the red flood, became susceptible to strange darkness coming out of the north. Moving slowly south, the darkness ravished the weakened kingdoms, leaving nothing but a rotting wasteland.

As the last of them turned to dust, Aislin sat up. Rubbing her face with her hands, she noticed that the sunrise remained hours away. Shivering and not from the cold, she wrapped her arms around Macha, hoping that sleep would soon reclaim her after such a troubling dream.

--0--

Macha let out a soft sigh, contented to find Aislin still in her arms the next morning. With the slight chill in the air, the two sought warmth with one another’s bodies. However pleasurable it might be, unfortunately, Macha couldn’t appreciate it fully as the illness had worsened during the night.

“Sit still.” A firm voice commanded her; looking down, Macha found Aislin wide-awake and staring into her eyes.

“You should eat first.” The young apprentice tried to pull back. Aislin didn’t have to do this now, perhaps get some food first, but her love would have none of that.

“Watch what I’m doing.” Aislin sat up, ignoring their nudity as she placed her hands on her friend’s chest.

Suddenly feeling better, the young apprentice frowned. “I didn’t see anything, what did you do?”

Aislin sighed; surprisingly, the healing didn’t take a lot out of her. Hopefully, the rest of the day would go the same. Still, if Macha didn’t see what she was doing. “I was afraid you might say that. I’ll try again with grandmother, hopefully between the two of you-”

Macha’s lips smothered her last words. “I can’t believe how much better I feel, it’s as if I wasn’t sick at all.”

Breathing lightly, Aislin quivered at the tenderness of the kiss. “Strange, isn’t it. Even Sir Miles felt instantly better.”

Macha reached for one more kiss, as they reluctantly climbed out of bed. Walking around the room, Aislin knew that if neither her grandmother nor Macha could help, healing everyone was going to be impossible. Perhaps she could find another way.

Macha smiled, thoroughly enjoying the view. She figured that Aislin didn’t even realize that she wasn’t wearing any clothing. “Perhaps you should get dressed, my sweet before you head up to the castle.”

“Oh.” Aislin looked down and blushed, reaching to cover herself.

Giggling, Macha went to the other side of the room. “I’ll help you dress. Let’s get a clean chemise on you; same outer dress as yesterday?” Gillian had not been the only one to recognize the outfit as that of a King’s Healer.

Aislin frowned for a moment then nodded.

“Good.” Macha started going through the trunk. Traditionally, the daughter of a King’s Healer, with the gift, would automatically become a King’s Healer herself.

As the granddaughter of a Court Healer, Macha understood that Aislin’s past had all of the markings of some sort of political trouble. Why would a King’s Healer go into hiding, she didn’t know. Ina, unfortunately, refused to speak about it.

Why the secrecy?

--0--

“You need to eat more.” Ina poured another cup of tea for her granddaughter.

Aislin made a face at the black liquid. Although it would keep her alert for most of the day, the tea was never one of her favorites. “Gran, I won’t be able to move if I eat more.”

Ignoring the tea, she reached instead for a small slice of cheese. Popping it into her mouth, she decided she had had enough breakfast. Aislin did understand the need for the food. Unfortunately, like Macha, her grandmother had not been able to see how she healed the spirit. At that moment, Gillian included they all insisted that she eat as much as possible, as she had a lot to do today.

“Still, I’m surprised how quickly my body recovered; it’s as if I wasn't ill at all.”

Aislin gave an amused chuckle, as she reluctantly picked up the cup of tea and took a sip. The real possibility that she would have to heal all of those inflicted with Black Stone illness, as they started to call it, now seemed all too real.

Aislin knew her Gran spoke with Gillian during the night and now believed the spread of the strange malady had been the result of either unearthing or damaging the black obelisk. Still, moving such objects, although not uncommon, had happened before, what was so special about this one?

“I’m not sure if we can really call it an illness, Gran, it acts like nothing I have seen or read about.”

Macha poured a cup of tea and then took a seat. “How do you feel? You have seen everyone that has been ill, but you haven’t come down with this curse.”

“Tired, nothing more, hopefully, whatever allows me to remove the illness, also protects me as well.” Aislin gave a nervous smile. She had indeed been lucky.

“I do not know of such things, my lady, but perhaps you also have the makings of a Thaumaturgist.” Gillian stood near the hearth, slowly stirring a pot of porridge.

“Well, obviously, you can heal the body and the spirit, so perhaps you do have the ability to command those types of creatures. With a few more powers, you’ll even have the makings of a Sorceress.” Macha giggled.

“Don’t say such things even in jest,” Ina exclaimed in irritation.

A pounding at the door made everyone jump.

“Miles?” Aislin stood as the Knight entered the cottage.

“Good morning to you all…Aislin.” With a warm smile, he took her by the hand and kissed it. “My dear lady, you have brought me back from the very gates of the Abyss.”

“I take it, Sir Miles, that you are here to take my granddaughter to the castle?” Ina gave a half glance at her apprentice, who didn’t seem particularly happy with the Knight’s affection given to her grandchild.

“Indeed, Mistress, there are many gravely ill persons desiring her attention.”

Aislin nodded. “Let me get my bag.”

“I’m coming with you today.” Macha returned from the back with her own bag. Catching Ina’s eye, who nodded in agreement, she continued. “I won’t be able to heal, but I can lend you my strength.”

The Wise Woman and her apprentice had decided earlier that morning, after their failed attempted to understand Aislin’s spiritual healing, that Aislin needed the assistance of another healer. Macha was more than capable, and someone needed to be with her just in case she spent the night in the Keep.

“Won’t you need her?”

“No, child.” The Wise Woman began. “Gillian and I can easily see to the sick in the village. Unfortunately, all we can do at this point is to keep them comfortable until you can heal them.”

The painful reality hit Aislin. Although she had to ability to fight the curse, she could only heal one person at a time, even then only if her strength allowed it. How many villagers were going to die, because she didn’t have that strength?

As the group left the cottage, she discovered a dozen armsmen and a single horse at the ready. “No carriage.” Not that she minded riding to the castle, but shouldn't here be two horses?

“Well, no.” Sir Miles looked startled, now understanding Mistress Gillian’s presence.

“Miles, does Nevan even know that you have come to take me back to the castle?” Obviously, Miles had been unaware that Nevan had commanded Mistress Gillian to accompany her.

“Sort of, I’m afraid that other matters have detained my cousin this morning. We had a couple of young servants go missing during the night. It’s not uncommon, as they often run back to their village, but one of the girls was castle born and the daughter to one of our armsmen.”

“So why the additional armsmen?” Aislin frowned, finding herself angry at the thought of someone taking advantage, during this time, to harm another.

The Knight’s voice was firm. “Three of my best men will accompany you as you heal those in the castle. I do not know if we have a problem or not. Even so, I will not leave you unguarded.”

The young healer thanked Sir Miles but was disappointed to find that several armsmen in her escort were ill. “Some of these men are sick, Miles; they should have been left in the castle.”

The Knight shrugged. “Most of the armsmen in the barracks are ill, Aislin.”

“I see, now at least I know where to start, but first I would like to see the most grievous ill in the village. Gran, let’s start with Jaralth.”

“That will not be necessary.” Colcothar, the village headman and Rowena’s father, approached, followed by his wife and two elders. “He dwells in the land of the dead now.”

“No.” Aislin hand flew to her mouth in distress.

“Master Loran died last night as well,” Seara said accusingly, which was news to the others in her group. “I just left Matilda with Rowena. With her mother dying last winter, perhaps someone in the village will be able to take her in as it now appears she is an orphan.”

Macha stepped forward to hold Aislin’s hand. She knew although none of it was her love’s fault, that she would take each death personally.

Master Muir, one of the village elders, bowed. “Excuse me if we are disturbing you, Sir Miles, but we heard that you were gravely ill. It seems that perhaps it was nothing more than a rumor.”

“Oh, it was true, Goodman. It was a pleasure to discover yesterday that Milady Aislin’s beauty matches her healing ability.” Sir Miles spoke to all, but his warm gaze was only for Aislin.

The young healer turned away, embarrassed.

Seara had an exasperated look on her face as she walked past her husband to confront Aislin. “If you’re such an accomplished healer, why didn’t you attend those two men yesterday?”

Ina quickly stepped in the way, keeping Aislin behind her. “She was in no condition to heal anyone when she returned from the Keep last night, Seara.”

Macha looked around, noticing that the argument had started to attract others from the village. Macha lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Perhaps you should mount your horse, Aislin.”

“How is it that after appearing so sick yesterday, you are now quite fit, Ina? So, tell me, did your grandchild heal the two of you last night, leaving those poor men to die.” A second woman, her voice filled with scorn, approached the healer’s cottage.

From behind her, more angry voices could be heard as the square slowly filled with villagers.

“You know that’s not true Una, she healed the two of us this morning” Ina shook her head sadly. “Aislin would have healed Jaralth and Loran if she had the strength, but she was at the castle all day yesterday. In fact, Sir Nevan has commanded her to return this morning.”

“They’re sick people in this village, why is she going to the castle at all?” Master Tearlach, one of the elders, shouted.

“My husband can’t get out of bed.”

“My daughter is sick; she can barely open her eyes.” Another woman cried out, soon others were shouting at Aislin.

“Quiet.” Sir Miles barked, his voice ringing with command. Mounting his horse, he turned to the mob. “Lady Aislin has agreed to visit a few of your homes today, be thankful for that. Afterward, she will be at the Keep. Your own Wise Woman will take care of those ill until she can find the time to return.”

That small concession didn’t seem to appease the villagers. Sir Miles had enough, standing on his stirrups, he shouted. “Disburse; back to your homes. Sergeant, help these people along.”

“You should visit Master Ian and Master Ronan before you head up to the castle.” The Wise Woman leaning forward whispered. “There was nothing you could have done last night, child.”

Shocked at how quickly things seemed to get out of hand, Aislin just nodded. Mounting, she looked down at Macha with concern. Seeing her troubled, the Knight smiled. “Don’t worry; I will carry your friend.”

Reaching down, he grabbed the young apprentice’s hand and lifted her onto the horse. Noticing that the armsmen had forced the villagers into their homes, Sir Miles turned in the saddle. “You still wish to help these people.”

Aislin sighed. “Yes.”

Ina stepped forward to hold her grandchild’s hand. “Take care, and don’t push yourself. Allow Macha to help you; don’t use all of your strength.”

“I will love you.” She said with tears in her eyes.

“I love you too; Mistress Gillian and I will be fine. Now be off, you have a busy day ahead of you.”

--0--

Aislin reflected that in the last few days, she had almost drunk a river of the red berry tea. Her grandmother had, as usual, been correct about eating a large breakfast, as she had just spent the entire morning in the barracks.

Not at all surprised to learn all of those seriously ill had been part of the group that unearthed the obelisk or had been standing guard over it, she now rested in the west tower, in a room given to her for the night, lunching with Constable Sinclair.

Macha smiled as one of the servants set down a platter of meats. Although she couldn’t see how her love healed the armsmen, the results were astounding. Men who seemed on the verge of dying instead got ready to stand watch for those who were still ill.

“It’s simply amazing how much better I feel, Aislin.”

The Constable returned from speaking to Aislin’s escort, a wide smile on his face. Motioning for one of the servants for a plate of food, he sat down, ready to enjoy lunch with his lovely guest.

Taking a bit of meat and cheese in hand, he said. “I’m sure you have heard this all before, but you have your mother’s eyes, although I can see a bit of your father in you as well.”

“You knew my parents.” Aislin sat back, surprised.

Constable Sinclair nodded, taking a large mouthful of ale before answering. “Aye lass, they were fine people. In fact, that lift that the food was brought up on is one of your father’s designs.”

Aislin twisted in her seat to watch one of the castle servants open a small wooden door revealing a hole in the wall. Placing several empty platters on a small wooden platform, the servant reached up, pulling a small lever, releasing the platform to slowly move down inside the cast walls to the bottom of the keep.

“I knew he worked around our cottage.”

“Yes, your mother was very pleased. Your father built a garderobe (medieval bathroom) outside. I’m sure you’re also aware that the irrigation system the farms use in the area was also built by your father.”

“No, I thought my father was a Sergeant in the King’s army.”

The Constable laughed, almost spilling his ale. “Who told you that nonsense?”

“My grandmother.”

“That woman.” He shook his head in disgust. Looking at Aislin for a moment, his left eyebrow rose a little. “Aislin, your father, if you asked him, would tell you that he was one of the King’s Engineers. He was most proud of that accomplishment.”

As casually as she could manage, Aislin asked. “My mother said he died in battle, although she wouldn’t talk much about it.”

“No, Regan, your mother, took it rather hard.” Looking down at his mug, the Constable said.” She died more of a broken heart than anything else. She also never forgave Duke Blathmac, knowing her husband couldn’t say no to him, as the Duke came to your cottage personally to ask for your father’s assistance.”

“I thought my father was an engineer?”

“Aye, he was the best, lass, but” The Constable looked up at Aislin but not seeing her, his vision fixed on something in the past. “I never saw a man who could command infantry the way he did. Your father could even get untrained troops to perform well. He was a lot like his father.”

“My grandfather?”

“Yes, although I told you that you have your mother’s eyes, you’re a mirror image of your grandmother when she was young. I understand now why your father dressed you as a boy, he was always smart that one.”

Aislin looked towards Macha, who shrugged. The past few weeks had been terribly confusing for the young healer. For her whole life, she had been treated as a boy of no consequence, someone to be ridiculed and scorned. To the same people now, she appeared as a gentlewoman, a member of the nobility, and a Kings Healer.

When Sir Miles invited her to dinner, it would have been easier to appear dressed as a boy. From what Aislin gathered, she would not have been harmed. Had this been her grandmother’s plan the whole time?

“I see you’re wearing your mother’s medallion, although, with your ability, it’s rightfully yours. Keep it on you, it should offer you-” The older man stopped talking, taking a long sip of ale before setting it down.

Aislin lifted the golden disk into her hand, running her fingers over the runes. “Can you tell me more about my parents?”

“What has your grandmother told you?”

The young healer shrugged. “Not a lot.”

“By the gods of battle, that woman and her secrets. Unfortunately, Aislin, they are not mine to tell either. I suggest that you speak to Lord Kelvin upon his return.”

“Lord Kelvin?”

“Aye, now, don’t be surprised lass if he isn’t happy with you dressed as you are, and he will not be pleased to discover that you have gained Sir Nevan’s interest.”

Aislin blushed. “That had never been my intention.”

The Constable roared in laughter. Rising from the table, he knelt in front of Aislin. Taking a small gold and silver ring with a deep blue stone set in its center ring from his finger, he presented it to Aislin.

“My lady, please take this symbol of my household. If you are ever in need, send a messenger to me with this ring, and I will come to your aid with all possible speed. I owe your father a great deal, including my life.”

Satisfied, the Constable stood up, rubbing his hands together. “Now come, we have still have work to do. I haven’t made my rounds in days, and you, Milady, still have the ill to attend to.”

--0--

Even before the sunset, with the long shadows of the afternoon hiding its approach, the shadow cat came across a pair of unsuspecting young girls taking down the wash. Later in the evening, the creature found another girl, this time alone, returning from the creek with a bucket of water for an ill relative.

Now long past midnight, it sat on top of the village’s mill. For some reason, it could feel a pull to this particular village. Finally, understanding why it dropped to the ground before silently moving through the streets peering every so often into windows. If anyone had been near the shadow creature, they would have heard what sounded like an amused chuckle. The amusement faded, however, when it reached the healer’s cottage.

Circling the structure several times, the creature tried to get closer but found that something barred its entrance. Knowing that it could force an entrance if necessary, the cat sat in the center of the road, annoyed.

Staring at the cottage, it suddenly took flight, finding a comfortable spot high in the trees. At least it could tell that someone with power resided inside, but not enough to be of real use. Hopefully, whoever had created the powerful wards that protected the inhabitants would return home soon.

Chapter 9

A dozen riders, carrying the colors of Lord Kelvin, slowly walked their horses along the banks of Loch Glas. One of their numbers, a King’s Healer, had spent most of her afternoon meeting with the Elders and Wisewoman of the village of Ursa, which stood on the other side of the long lake.

For once, since the whole nightmare began, Aislin had been able to bring good news to one of the villages. The Black Stone Plague, which continued to ravage the countryside, had yet to cross the Loch, instead of moving along the King’s Road.

At least this visit had been peaceful. Aislin shouldn’t have been surprised that rumors of the illness traveled faster than the malady itself. The news panicked nobility and commoners alike, many shutting their doors to strangers, some of them rather violently.

After having a horse killed underneath her by some nervous castle bowmen, Sir Nevan insisted that Aislin ride in full King’s Healer’s regalia with a heavily armed escort.

“You should assign this task to someone else.” Sir Miles looked at the young healer with worry. Although she continued to work day and night to heal the sick, Aislin also felt the needed to speak to other villages to calm their fears.

Garbed with the sunburst tunic, and silver chain of her mother’s old office, Aislin yawned into her hand. Unfortunately, sleep brought no rest as her nights continued to bring more troubling dreams.

“Who do you suggest, Miles? My grandmother cannot leave the village and Macha I need by my side. Plus, most of these villages will not allow anyone else inside their village but a King’s Healer.”

“Send a messenger if you need information, someone you have already healed.” It had become common knowledge that the plague did not return after being treated by Milady Aislin.

Both Knights admired her and worried that Aislin pushed herself too relentlessly, spending half a day in the saddle while filling her mornings and evenings with healing.

“Miles, I need more than information. Remember, many of these Wisewoman possess years of experience that I just don’t have. And don’t forget Mistress Olina of Riverwatch discovered the use for the Green Willow, not I?”

A rare plant, usually ingested to calm the nerves, a side effect of drinking a bitter tea made of the leaves had been discovered to slow the progress of the illness in the most severely ill. Even though the plant’s supplies were limited, the tree only being found along the coast, it had given Aislin extra time to heal those afflicted.

“By the gods of battle, woman, you’re a stubborn one.” The Knight growled. Although Sir Nevan ruled the lands in his father’s absence, everyone knew when it came to a plague, a King’s Healer word was law.

“Don’t think we haven’t had the same argument with her, Sir Miles.” Macha laughed, pulling her horse forward to walk alongside the pair.

Deciding to change the subject, Aislin asked. “Has Constable Sinclair discovered anything more about the destruction of Kilrush or the missing armsmen?”

Sadly she hoped that some natural calamity had taken the townspeople's lives, but she feared the worse. What concerned Sir Nevan, the men, who brought back the shocking news of the town’s demise, also brought the news that the stone never reached its destination.

“Not much, but he plans on sending another detachment to search the ruins. Thanks to you, we now have men who are fit enough to travel.”

“Perhaps they can arrange for a merchant to supply us with more of the Green Willow leaf?” Macha asked.

Miles nodded. “Might be a little tricky with the Bann in place, but I will speak with Nevan.”

News of the illness had finally arrived at the ducal palace. His Grace wasted no time in setting a Bann on all of Lord Kelvin’s lands. No one could enter or leave without the permission of the Duke, which included Lord Kelvin himself now trapped outside his own lands.

“What about the young girls that have gone missing?” Aislin hesitated to ask. Already it had become somewhat rare to see young women in the village streets, their families keeping them indoors.

“Beyond rumors and stories, nothing; although thankfully, there have only been a few incidents lately.” Except for the fact that only Aislin could heal the sick, if Sir Miles had his way, he would have already placed the two women in the nearest tower for their own protection.

“Have you heard all of the rumors?” Macha whispered, noting the uncomfortable looks of the armsmen that surrounded them.

For most, even talking about the black shadow was considered bad luck. The plague had begun with the unearthing of a relic of the Black Sorceress, who knew what other evils would now befall them.

“I wish I could do something to stop it,” Aislin commented to none one in particular. Plenty of rumors circulated about a shadow hunting the villages at night. With her newfound ability to influence the spirit, if confronted by such a creature, she would try and bind it.

“Aislin, please don’t say that you’re doing enough already.” Macha, who was sick with worry for the way the woman she loved pushed herself, had to stop herself from yelling.

Aislin looked at her beloved then nodded, however, there was a fire in the King’s Healer’s eyes that the young apprentice did not miss.

Throwing her hands up in disgust, Macha growled. “You’re right Sir Miles, she is stubborn.”

--0--

Dismounting in front of her grandmother’s cottage, all Aislin wanted to do was to fall asleep in her bed. She knew that there were still a few villagers that needed her attention, but she didn’t have the strength.

“Sir Miles, I don’t think you really you need all of these armsmen to watch over one lone healer.” Aislin gave the young Knight an amused look. From what she gathered, Miles appeared to be leaving her entire escort in the village.

“You’re still planning on staying the night.”

Aislin nodded, stifling a yawn. “Yes, I need to spend the morning in the village seeing those that are ill. Don’t worry; I’ll be returning to the castle in the afternoon.”

“You have a meeting with the village Elders of Whiteflow tomorrow afternoon.” Macha reminded her love as she dismounted from her horse.

“Evening then.” Aislin looked up at the Knight and smiled.

“No chance of you sleeping in late tomorrow, then?” Miles asked half-jokingly.

No matter how the King’s Healer tried to hide it, Aislin looked like she was going to fall over most days now. At least once today the Knight had caught her sleeping in the saddle.

“Sounds lovely.” Aislin had to stifle another yawn.

Sir Miles looked down at the young woman affectionately, having grown rather fond of Aislin the last few weeks. Any thoughts of marriage for social and financial gain didn’t seem so appealing anymore.

Still, if Sir Miles had been honest with himself from the start, there had never been a real chance that he could have taken Aislin for his wife. Besides his cousin’s apparent interest, Lady Aislin was a King’s Healer.

Throughout the Kingdom, all knew that those women, regardless of rank were considered wards of the King. Historically those marriages became quite a political affair often than not, made with the sons of the upper nobility. Nevan would be a good choice; a landless Knight like himself had no chance at all.

“I’ll be back with your escort tomorrow.” Sir Miles twisted in his saddle, ordering three of his men to remain.

Aislin didn’t bother to argue about the guards, thanking them as the armsmen gathered all of their horses, leading them to the villages stable. “Don’t you have other things to do than escort me all over Lord Kelvin’s land?”

“Actually no, right now, you’re my sole responsibility. I would also like to point out, as the one responsible for you, that I am not happy you’re planning on spending the night in this village.” Miles leaned over in the saddle. “That cottage of yours won’t protect you from some shadow looking for you.”

Aislin shrugged, she wasn’t too sure of that. So far, only Macha knew she had recently gained several new abilities including creating wards. Although unable to repeat that particular feat, the Sprit Healer had been able to cast a rather large circle around the entire cottage. Even more surprising, this morning, Aislin had been able to see water elementals called Undines playing on the shores of Loch Glas.

“I’ll be okay, Miles. I have Macha to protect me.”

Ina’s young apprentice smiled at that statement, before noting some of the villagers moving towards the healer’s cottage. “I see your presence, Aislin has been noted.”

The Knight stood on his stirrups to get a better look at the crowd, half tempted to order them back to their homes.

“We’ll be fine. See, Mistress Ina is also with them” Macha started pushing Aislin into the cottage. “Go, I’ll take care of this.”

Even with the King’s Healer now safely inside, Sir Miles didn’t like the thought of leaving Aislin with these villagers. “Keep her safe, Macha.”

“With my life.”

--0--

Ina looked up as Aislin returned from the back bedroom after removing the King’s Healer regalia. The Wisewoman couldn't believe how much her grandchild had changed in the last couple of weeks.

Gone was the quiet, unassuming boy who tried not to stand out replaced by a blossoming young woman, who during a time of crisis, had stepped forward to take charge.

Ina wasn’t sure she could have done as well, managing all of the personalities involved. From the nobility, merchants unable to leave the lands, to village Elders, to Wisewoman, they now all looked to Aislin for advice and aid. Ina wished that Aislin’s parents were alive, they would be very proud of what she had accomplished in such a short time.

“You’re not getting enough rest.” Ina kissed her grandchild’s head while setting down a cup of tea in front of her.

Macha gave her beloved the eye. She knew that Aislin’s sleep had been troubled but had refused to speak with her grandmother about the problem. She needed to stop worrying about others and take care of herself for once.

With a sigh, Aislin reached for the cup of red berry tea. “No, I keep waking up in the middle of the night.”

“Bad dreams,” Macha explained.

“I don’t understand. You’re having nightmares?” Ina frowned, looking at her apprentice for confirmation.

“You can call them that,” Aislin said evasively.

“Aislin, if you won’t tell her, then I will,” Macha said somewhat testily. She knew that her lover didn’t want to worry her grandmother, but without sleep, there was no way Aislin could continue at this pace.

Finally relenting, the raven-haired beauty explained to her grandmother the reoccurring dreams that continue to haunt her sleep.

“The dream where all the Kingdoms end up covered in blood is the most disturbing.” Aislin looked down at her teacup, surprised to find it empty. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

“No, you are touching the Spirit Realm daily now; Diviners and Dreamers are very similar. Although Diviners normally have their visions while awake.”

“I think I’ll pass on that; it’s bad enough having them while asleep.” Aislin rolled her eyes at the smug look on Macha’s face. “Yes, you’re right, I should have told my grandmother sooner.”

“Yes, you should have. Now every night before bed, you need to drink one cup of tea mixed with a Silver Sage leaf. It should help you sleep.” Ina laughed at the face her grandchild made. Silver Sage had an extremely sour taste.

The Wisewoman could still remember as a young Court Healer, another girl, who didn’t like silver sage, who also had trouble sleeping because of dreams. At least she remembered what that noblewoman drank to help her at night.

“Once this crisis has passed, I believe you need to stand before the full Council and speak to them about those dreams of yours.”

“Mistress Ina, from what you have told me, they weren’t too interested in meeting with Aislin, much less speaking with her,” Macha said, concerned for her beloved.

“True, but this time they will listen,” Ina said with some satisfaction remembering how the Council of Elder’s treated her grandchild.

She left their number in disgust, as the group was more afraid of their positions than doing what was right. With Aislin’s newfound gifts and the rank of a King’s Healer, they would have no choice but acknowledge her.

Relieved that her grandmother wasn’t too angry, Aislin decided to bring up something that had been bothering her for some time.

“Gram, I know you didn’t want to ask, but I spoke with Sir Nevan about sending word to the Duke for help. Although you don’t believe it to be true, another King’s Healer might possess similar skills to heal the Spirit.”

With the plague spreading to two more villages on the Kings Road, Aislin was under no illusion that her ability to heal everyone was long past.

“I wish you would have waited, but I still don’t think any of them will be able to help. My child, you have a unique gift.”

“Even so, why should we not ask for help? I wanted to do this last week, and you told me to wait.”

“Because you need to prove your worth, to show that you are no threat to the Kingdom.”

Standing up, obviously annoyed at the direction the conversation was going, the young woman approached her grandmother. “What? How could I be a threat to anyone, much less a Kingdom?”

“Please, Aislin, listen to me. This is important.” Ina took the teacup from her granddaughter’s hand and set it down on the table in front of her. “I know I have kept secrets from you…”

“All my life.”

“Yes, all your life, and I’m sorry, but I made a promise long ago to keep you safe.”

Aislin closed her eyes. She didn’t want to fight with her grandmother, but she was sick and tired of all of her secrets. “To whom my parents?”

“No, your grandmother.”

“What?”

“Please Aislin, I promise you once Lord Kelvin returns, we will all sit down and tell you about your past. It’s well beyond the time. But I can’t, at least not right now. All it will do is confuse and trouble you.”

“More than I already am?” Aislin turned away, she knew she needed to go to bed, but there was little chance she was going to sleep, silver sage or not. “I’m going for a walk.”

Before exiting the cottage, she stopped. “Gram, I don’t regret asking for help. No one deserves to die just because you want to play politics.”

“Aislin,” Ina called out to her granddaughter, but she had already left disappearing into the oncoming night.

--0--

As she left the cottage, the King’s Healer felt three large forms walk up next to her matching her pace. “Good evening, armsmen, Seamus, Kirk, and Argyle, am I right?”

The three men grinned, pleased that the Lady had remembered their names.

“A little late to be walking around.” Seamus, the largest of the three guards, voiced his concern.

Like the rest of the escort, he had overheard the discussion this afternoon about women who had vanished. No coward, the armsman just didn’t believe that his spear would be any use against a creature from the Spirit Realm.

“Don’t worry; I’m visiting a friend. I’ll be returning home before it gets too dark.”

The main reason she returned to the village had been to visit her friend Renn, who had come down with the illness the day before. Aislin had already healed Renn’s mother, Mistress Aoife, late last week, and she thought that Renn might not catch the disease. Unfortunately, Aislin didn’t have the strength to heal her friend tonight but planned on it first thing in the morning.

As she made her way to Renn’s cottage, she noted that, for the most part, people remained indoors, especially young women. Still, some villagers came up to her to either thank her for her healing or to ask when one of their loved ones would be healed.

“Lady Aislin, it's good to see you up and about.”

Lost in thought, Aislin didn’t even see the village headman’s wife Seara approach, followed by a small group of other village wives.

“Good evening, Mistress Seara.” Aislin turned around; putting on the best smile she could at the moment. She had not seen Rowena's mother in quite some time, which for her was no great loss. Still, Aislin didn't know why, but something odd was going on.

“May I ask where are you going tonight?”

Aislin wondered why the concern. “I’m off to visit Renn.”

“I’m sorry, we cannot permit that.”

“Excuse me?” There was a fire in the King’s Healers voice that the women in the village had not heard before. Her escorts, on the other hand, made a note of it becoming instantly on guard.

“She is not that ill. We have more deserving people to be taken care of first.”

“That’s right.” One of the other women stepped forward giving the three guards a look of contempt. “No worse than what our good lords have been doing right. Letting us villagers suffer while they take care of their own first.”

Another woman stepped forward. “Right, so now we will decide who will be healed.”

“Or not.” The village headman’s wife gave a half-smile, looking at the rest of the women for support. “None of us wish the child harm, but right now, she is nothing but a burden on her family and really the entire village. In fact, if she died from this illness it would be best for everyone.”

Something inside Aislin snapped. Too tired to care, too tired seeing the death of those she didn’t have the strength to heal, too tired hearing from those who put themselves before others, Aislin stepped forward and slapped Mistress Seara across the face.

“How dare you say such things, Renn has nothing but love to give to those around her, and you find it a burden. She has always been my friend even when all of you lashed out at both of us with scorn; she always has never spoken an ill word to anyone least of all me.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know any better.” Seara looked at the King’s Healer with nothing but hatred in her eyes.

Leaning forward, Aislin got into the woman’s face and spoke in a fierce whisper. “I don’t know what problem you had with my mother, nor do I care. Even with how you have treated my family, I was more than happy to take care of yours. So don’t tell me who I can or cannot heal.”

Aislin stepped back looking into the eyes of every other woman. “Know this; I will heal who I will when I will. No one in this village has any say about it.” And with that, the King’s Healer turned on her heels, walking away towards her friend’s home.

“How dare you…” Seara started but stopped looking down she found the sharp end of a spear pointing directly towards her chest.

“Mind your betters.” The armsmen named Liam dropped his spear as he looked at Seara and the rest of the group of women in disgust.

“My better, she is nothing but…”

Liam raised his spear again. “I would be careful what you say next.”

The King’s Healer had saved his life and that of his children; the guard was not allowing these women to speak to her in any tone of voice but respect.

Seamus nodded to Liam in approval. “You women should know better; besides being of noble birth, Lady Aislin carries the golden disk and silver chain of the King’s Healer. So watch your tongues least you lose them. Now be off with you before I turn you over to the Constable.”

What the guards missed was the satisfied smile on Seara's face as she walked away.

Moments later, the third guard came running back, intercepting the two approaching the cottage. “Go find Mistress Ina.”

With the guardsmen right behind them, Ina and her apprentice ran to the small cottage of Mistress Aoife, who stood outside looking worried.

“Hurry.” She turned running inside.

Macha’s chest filled with panic, almost screamed as the group entered the back bedroom to find Aislin collapsed on the bed.

“What happened?” Ina quickly walked up to her grandchild, her healing senses looking to see what was wrong.

Renn, holding the King’s Healer in her arms, looked up with a concerned look. Sounding much younger than her fourteen years, she said in a whisper. “Don’t be so loud you’ll wake her.”

“What happened?” Macha too, started to look over the unconscious healer.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” Renn said with a frown.

“I had hoped Renn had escaped the illness, but as you know, last night she wasn’t feeling well. Then this morning Ina when you visited, she appeared a little worse but not that bad. But during dinner, she fell asleep while eating. She hadn’t eaten anything, and her color was so bad. Ina, I was afraid she wouldn’t wake in the morning.”

The Wisewoman looked over to Mistress Aoife with concern “Why didn’t you send word to us?”

Looking surprised, Renn’s mother answered. “I did, I spoke with Mistress Seara. With Niles away with Lord Kelvin, I couldn’t leave my daughter alone. She said that it would be taken care of. So when Aislin came running into the house, I thought she came to heal Renn.”

“Thank the goddess; she’s only sleeping.” Macha looked unhappy but relieved at the same time.

“That’s what I said, silly.” Renn giggled.

Ina smiled while stroking her grandchild’s head. “She must have been very concerned for you.”

“I’m sorry Mistress Ina. I believed that Milady Aislin’s argument with some of the village women might also have brought this on.” Liam stood off to the side of the room, not looking very happy. He then quickly explained exactly what transpired before Aislin’s collapse.

“You don’t think that Seara didn’t tell you of Renn’s condition on purpose?” Aoife looked at the others in shock.

She understood many in the village didn’t have a use for someone who would never be more than a child but to think that they would allow her to die.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Macha spoke while holding Aislin hand.

“That’s enough, Macha,” Ina said. “I don’t know what went on, Aoife, but I assure you, I will be speaking with the village Elders in the morning. “

Turning, the Wisewoman motioned for the guards. “Seamus, be a good boy and pick up my grandchild. We will take her back to the cottage to sleep.”

“Aislin can sleep in my bed. I don’t feel sick anymore.” Renn happily moved over to make room for her friend.

“I’m sure she would like that Renn, but I think she needs to sleep in her own bed tonight.” Macha gave a small laugh.

--0--

Aislin had not moved even in her sleep, her body utterly exhausted. However, even in that state, a part of the young healer remained aware. She could feel a dark presence approaching, a presence that had taken a familiar form. At that moment, Aislin understood she was in terrible danger.

Crawling out of a deep sleep, she slowly opened her eyes to find a thin smoky haze filling the room. From outside the bedroom, she could hear shouts of anger and pain. Crawling out of bed, Aislin painfully stumbled forward to open the door to find a scene of utter confusion.

Villagers, she had known all her life stood in the center of the front room, screaming at one another. On the ground in front of her, lay one of the guards, Kirk, with an arrow sticking out of his throat. Another armsman, Seamus, grappled with four men right outside the front door.

With her mind befuddled with the lack of sleep, she failed to understand the danger she now faced. Only upon discovering her beloved Macha lying face down in a pool of blood, did Aislin become awake.

Ignoring the chaos around her, the King’s Healer ran forward to help her friend. However, so intent on helping Macha, she didn’t see the blow that connected with the side of her head, sending her once again into darkness.

Chapter 10

Aislin’s thoughts drifted back to the last few moments before waking. Lately, visions and reality had been become increasingly difficult to tell apart. So upon opening her eyes, Aislin didn’t know what to expect. However, not lying on the ground surrounded by angry villagers, but waking up to the peaceful sounds of the night did seem a bit surreal.

Thankfully, the King’s Healer had been able to keep quiet upon discovering Macha, sound asleep next to her. She felt bad, having awakened her so many times in the last few weeks because of the accursed dreams.

Slowly slipping out of bed, trying not to dwell on the memories of her friend lying in a pool of blood, Aislin grabbed a cloak, wrapping it around her body. The chill that it kept out had very little to do with the temperature. These visions were disturbing enough without seeing people she loved hurt or worse.

Perhaps the last one was a warning. After almost being killed by a nervous sentry, Sir Nevan had been fearful of a real attack upon her person. But why would the villagers do such a terrible thing? It would serve no purpose other than to cause their deaths.

Sadly, Aislin had been tormented by some of the same villagers in the past, but for them to assault their own lord’s armsmen was unthinkable. Even worse, although she still didn’t quite believe the validity of her new station, so would attacking a person considered to be the King’s representative.

Such crimes would place a death warrant upon the entire village. The innocent and the guilty alike would be put to the sword; the homes burned down to the ground.

If the dream had indeed been a warning, Aislin could not sit idly by and allow it to happen. True, she didn’t care for most of the people in her village. However, the wholesale slaughter of those same villagers wouldn’t be something she would ever permit.

Since the death of her mother, she had tried not to cause trouble for her Grandmother. No matter what torments were inflicted upon her by others, Aislin didn’t resist nor complain.

Even worse, after Rowena had run away and she tried to take her own life, Aislin detached her emotions from the world around her. If she didn’t feel the emotional pain, then the world could no longer hurt her.

But that defense no longer brought comfort, if it ever had. Finally, deciding to face the world head-on, Aislin had taken off that old battered armor. The confrontation with the village women told her one thing; she would no longer allow others to treat her with any less respect than she deserved.

Smiling at the peacefulness of the night, Aislin felt calm for the first time in a long while. She would go to her Grandmother in the morning and tell of her visions. Most likely, the easiest way to keep the attack on her cottage from coming true would be to move into the Keep. That would make both Miles and Nevan very happy.

“Aislin, why are you still awake?”

Turning around, Aislin found a sleepy Macha propping herself on one arm.

"Another dream."

“Well, tell me about it in the morning. Come back to bed; you need your sleep.”

Slipping back under the warm covers, Aislin inhaled sharply as Macha leaned over and began to nibble on her ear, then her neck. Full of desire, Macha slid back up, their lips coming together, igniting a fire that started in the pit of Aislin’s stomach to spread all over her body.

As their breathing increased, Macha’s hands began to wander, caressing, grasping, causing Aislin to gasp in pleasure her body moving up to meet Macha’s hungry touch. Slowly slipping her hands underneath Aislin’s chemise, the young apprentice began to gently stroke one of Aislin’s nipples.

Lost in pleasure, waves of ecstasy almost overrode the wrongness, as Aislin felt her body change. Without a pause, the apprentice’s hand slid down passed Aislin’s taut stomach, to find a very feminine mound before slipping two fingers inside, which until moments before had been impossible. How could she not have seen it? Aislin had never left Briongláid, the land of dreams.

The King’s Healer knew at once how easy it would be easy to surrender to these desires. Although her spirit cried out to be complete, Aislin knew this world to be a lie. No, it was more than a lie, suddenly understanding the danger she now faced. It was a prison.

“Stop,” Aislin whispered, trying to escape her lover’s embrace.

“Don’t fight my love, isn’t this what you truly desire.” Macha continued to make love to Aislin; her fingers buried deep into her lover’s soft flesh.

Shaking her head, with tears running down her face, Aislin broke away, scurrying to the other side of the bed.

“No…No…NO!”

“Why do you insist on resisting? I can see that this is your deepest desire. Submit to me, girl, and I will make all of your dreams come true.”

The young woman screamed as Macha transformed, turning into Miles. “If not the girl, then how about the man; do you not find this form pleasing instead?”

“No.”

The shadow form of Miles laughed.

Drawing power from the deepest reaches of her spirit, a well of power unknown to her, Aislin fought back. This was no dream but dark magic set to trap the spirit. Healing Renn had made her vulnerable.

Dark threads twirled around Aislin, trying to ensnare her very being, but once again, Aislin broke free. Again and again, dark tendrils attacked and with great effort, the King’s Healer pushed them back. Finally, drawing forth, even more, power the world went dark.

Opening her eyes, Aislin found herself standing outside, in the center of the village square.

“Where have you been?” A voice called out to her from inside her Grandmother’s cottage.

“Rowena?”

“We don’t have time for this.” Grabbing her hand, Aislin felt her childhood friend pull her towards the Mill. “I told you yesterday that they would be arriving. Please don’t leave them waiting.”

“Who is waiting for us?”

“Aislin, I can’t do this by myself anymore.” Rowena sighed. “We must go, they will help you.”

“What’s happening? Where are Macha and my Grandmother?”

Rowena stopped her face full of anguish. “After all these months, you still deny what has happened. “

Squeezing Aislin’s hand, she waved to a group of white-robed women. Upon approaching, Rowena went down into a deep curtsy. “Your Excellency, I have brought Lady Aislin as you have requested.”

Looking around, Aislin found the village deserted. Several of the houses had collapsed. What had happened?

“Poor child.” An older woman approached. “We will take our sister to the Chapter House; perhaps there she can find peace and healing.”

“Rowena, please tell me what’s happening where is everyone?”

“I don’t see how explaining it to you again is going to help. Since Macha and your Grandmother died, you refuse to accept what has happened.”

“Both of them are dead?” Aislin cried out. “Are they actually dead, how can that be?”

Aislin knew that an event so horrific, so damaging could force a person to escape into their mind. Had the attack on her cottage already taken place?

Could she not accept the consequences of the assault, or was this just another trap?

For the first time since the visions and dreams began, she could now feel the difference in the world around her. This, too, was a trap; she remained deep in Briongláid.

“Remember Aislin, the plague.”

“Of course,” Aislin commented, no longer paying attention. Throwing her senses out, Aislin began to hunt for the beast.

Rowena smiled. “Good, maybe you are remembering.”

“Keep going, child.”

Rowena nodded to the most senior of the King’s Healers. “You did wonderfully, Aislin; every one that is alive now owes their lives to you. But please try to remember, the plague becoming stronger, making sick even those you had already healed. It spread everywhere. You couldn’t stop it, no one could.”

“So, everyone in the village is?”

“Dead, like many others in Lord Kelvin’s lands and half the Kingdom. But you can no longer remain here, Aislin. Forgive yourself, move on. I need you; the Kingdom needs you.”

“I’m sorry, Rowena.” Aislin backed away, pulling her arm out of her friend’s grasp. Running down the street, the King’s Healer made her way back to the cottage. If these healers took her away, she knew she would be trapped in this dream forever.

Flinging open the door, Aislin found, sitting in her favorite chair at the table, a silver-haired man dressed in black robes, drinking from her favorite cup.

“Welcome back, does this future, please you, Lady Aislin? “

“No more than the other, who are you?”

She looked carefully at the strange man understanding that earlier it had taken the form of Macha and Miles. With what now appeared to be fangs and pointed ears, the King’s Healer knew she didn’t face a human Mage. She also realized her folly in thinking of attacking such a powerful spirit even before she overworked her magic.

“I see in your eyes, you know that already, how delightful.” Smiling, it took a sip from her cup. “The tea is quite nice.”

“What do you want?” Positive she wouldn’t like the answer, Aislin asked anyway.

“You.”

Aislin laughed at the absurdity. Who was she?

“Now, my dear, it would have been simpler and much more pleasurable for both of us if you just submitted to my will, but it appears that’s not likely going to happen. Is it? Surprisingly, even in your weakened state, you were able to escape my traps. Nor does it seem, in this realm, I am unable to force you to do anything. Frankly dragging you into Briongláid was no small feat on my part.” The silver man sounded quite pleased with himself.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, sirrah.”

The creature shrugged. “I disagree; the other way would have been much easier on both of us, but this will suffice. You seem to be the type more concerned with others than your own well-being. Even with these mortals who have treated you poorly all your life, you still wish to help them.”

“And if I refuse to go with you?”

“Simple, the curse will strengthen. Perhaps there might be another Healer who can stop the sickness, maybe even weaken it. But you know this to be unlikely, don’t you, my dear? So if you resist, what you have just seen will come to pass. Perhaps not in the same manner, but still, all those deaths will be on your head.”

The creature set the cup down and leaned forward with a feral smile on its lips. “On the other hand, it would be simple to push your not so friendly villagers into committing violence. A rebellion would cause quite a few deaths, don’t you think? So many are close, a little push, and the street will turn red with blood.”

Leaning back in the chair, it sighed. “However, that way is less certain. Either way, I promise you, the ones you call Macha and Ina will most assuredly die. So, yes, I do think you will come to me.”

Aislin nodded reluctantly; she really didn’t have a choice.

“Simply splendid, so I should expect you at Dubh Caisleán in the next few days?”

“Dubh Caisleán, the Sorceress’ old Castle?” Aislin frowned.

Bardic stories told of the last stronghold of the ancient Sorceress deep inside the swamp. Crafted from a stone black as night, wondrous treasures from all across the land lay inside, guarded by powerful magics and creatures of nightmares. Only the foolish or the desperate would search for such a place.

“Excellent, you know what I speak of. You are not as dim-witted as I thought.”

A flicker of anger passed over Aislin. Feeling the creature’s raw power, perhaps it would have been folly for her to have thrown herself into battle, but she wouldn’t willingly walk into the woods without receiving something more in return.

“Before I agree, you will remove the curse. You will also return all of the girls you have taken.”

“I’m sorry, my dear, not possible. Even I cannot bring a spirit back from the halls of the dead.”

Aislin clenched her fists.

The shadow creature laughed. “However, I am not without mercy. So by removing the curse, you will come to Dubh Caisleán of your own free will.”

Aislin scowled, why did the creature take other girls if it just wanted her in the first place? “Yes, however, I will ride Lord Kelvin’s lands to make sure you have kept your part of the bargain. Once I am satisfied, I will come to you.”

“By your own free will?”

“Yes, by my own free will.” She shouted.

“Done!” The shadow creature howled with glee.

Once again, the world turned black.

--0--

“Thank you, Macha.” Aislin reached for the mug of tea. With a small frown on her face, she looked at it for a second before taking a sip. Lost in thought over last night’s encounter with the creature, she ate in silence; something which was not lost on either her grandmother or Macha.

With a real chance to stop the curse, if what she experienced had been real, Aislin understood that she would not be allowed to disappear. Her Grandmother and Macha would try and stop her. Nevan and Miles would insist that they, along with a cohort of armsmen, join her. Although most likely, the four of them would agree to just lock her up in the nearest tower.

Aislin felt horrible, but with so many lives at stake, the best choice would be to slip away.

“Are you ready to go, Macha?” Aislin said without thinking. “Sir Miles is on his way.”

Last night’s battle with the creature had done more than increase her strength. It had apparently opened a hidden doorway to new powers. Even her healing skills, formidable before, now seemed much stronger.

Without even touching her grandmother or Macha, Aislin could tell the health of each woman. That same new power also allowed her to feel Sir Miles’ presence, along with the rest of her escort as they crossed the village square.

“Aislin?”

Aislin’s grandmother gave her a confused look before she jumped at the pounding at the cottage door.

“Gran, will you please let him in while I finish getting ready?”

Disappearing into her bedroom, Aislin knew that her bag and the other items of her office might not be needed today. It was a bittersweet thought.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Aislin noticed that the door had been closed.

With a frown, Macha walked over and started to braid Aislin’s hair. “You have never been a good liar, my love. More dreams, I imagine.”

Aislin had to keep from laughing or crying; she didn’t know which. “Yes.”

“No, it’s something more, but you won’t tell me? Will you?” Macha stepped forward to look directly into her beloved’s eyes.

“Later.” Reaching up, Aislin cupped Macha’s face, kissing her deeply. One thing Aislin learned last night, her feelings for Macha were real. She did indeed love her grandmother’s apprentice. As usual, when given the chance of true happiness, it was torn from her grasp.

“Well, that’s nice.” Macha blushed.

Aislin had never been so forward before. Smiling to herself, the young apprentice continued to fix Aislin’s hair. “Still, I’m worried about you. Why aren’t you in bed?”

Although overusing one’s power didn’t usually do irreparable harm, it had happened before. What Macha didn’t expect was to find Aislin standing in front of the window watching the sunrise.

“Why? Did you want to join me?”

Macha's eyes opened wide in shock, what was with Aislin today? Not that she objected, but still. She knew her lover had changed over the last few weeks, but she couldn’t believe just how much. Speechless, Macha blushed as her hands finally finished the last of the braids.

“Your hair is almost long enough to do this justice.”

Unable to help herself from teasing Macha, Aislin suddenly felt sick. What was she doing? The more this continued, the more that Macha would be hurt when she disappeared.

“Thank you, though, for well, everything. These past few weeks would have been impossible without you.”

Macha just smiled, but why did it feel to her that Aislin had just said good-bye?

As the two women entered the front room, they discovered Sir Miles speaking excitedly to Aislin’s grandmother.

“Good morning, Aislin, I have some excellent news.”

The King’s Healer just stood there shocked for a brief moment, but quickly recovered. “Good news, now that would be nice for a change.”

“Indeed.” He turned and smiled at everyone in the room. “This morning, it appears that the few who remained ill suddenly recovered.”

“That’s great news, Sir Miles.” Macha reached over and held Aislin by the hand. “Isn’t that wonderful, Aislin.”

The King’s Healer nodded. “Thank the gods. We should see how the village fares this morning as well.”

Walking through the village square, with memories of the night before, Aislin missed the questions Macha was asking.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You seem so far away, Aislin.” Before she could say anything else, a group of excited villagers approached. Word had started to spread throughout the entire village; the plague had vanished overnight.

To Aislin’s surprise, people who had never spoken to her with anything but disdain in their voice thanked her for helping them. A few even took her aside to apologize for what had been said over the week to her, being fearful for their loved ones.

What surprised her the most were the ones who went as far to apologize for hurts done to her in the past. Even Rowena greeted her with a hug, her mother finally allowing her out of the house. Aislin though perhaps for a moment that this too was a dream, but her magical senses informed her that she was indeed awake.

Once it had been determined that no sickness remained in the village, Aislin and her escorts mounted up and made their way down the King’s Road. The King’s Healer could feel everyone’s joyful spirits.

Macha could tell that Aislin had been hiding something most of the day. The smile on her face did not reach her eyes.

“You’re still worried that the curse will return?” Macha rode up next to Aislin.

They had just departed another village, like the others in the midst of a celebration. Everyone wanted the King’s Healer to remain, to celebrate with them, but understood that she needed to make sure that illness had finally departed from Lord Kelvin’s lands.

“Oh, yes, I guess,” Aislin replied without even looking at her.

Macha frowned; she could always tell when her beloved was being anything less than truthful.

“It will be all right.” Macha reached over and took Aislin by the hand. “Whatever it is, it will all work out.”

It had been a long hard day by the time Aislin and her escort rode back through the village. Sir Miles had wanted them to return to the castle, where Sir Nevan had been planning a celebration for the end of the plague. They also wanted to honor the King’s Healer, who had made it all possible.

Aislin had been able to ask for one more night at home with her grandmother. Sir Nevan had insisted that she move permanently into the Keep. Someone of her social rank should not be living in a healer’s cottage.

Macha thought that Aislin would be much more excited over the news. She smiled, thanked everyone, but the light was still missing from her eyes. Even the news that her Macha and her Grandmother would be joining her in the Keep did not seem to make a difference.

“I am still leaving a half a dozen men to watch over you tonight. Until we have dealt with that shadow creature, or whatever you call it on the prowl, the nights are still not safe.” Sir Miles twisted in the saddle, looking about. For once the village seemed rather peaceful. “I’ll be by in the morning with an honor guard.”

“Miles, that’s not…” Aislin began.

“Yes, it is, although many helped, you alone deserve such an honor.”

“Thank you, Miles, for everything, and goodnight to you.”

Macha frowned. Once again, it sounded like Aislin was saying more than just goodbye.

For the most part, Aislin had kept the smile on her face all day. It was hard not to be excited, seeing the joy in people’s eyes. She just kept looking for that joy in each village, and that carried her to the next and the next. However, upon entering the cottage and seeing that her grandmother had prepared all of her favorite dishes, she almost broke down.

As she took a seat, the knowledge that this might be the last meal with the two women lay heavily on Aislin. The food, as usual, was good, and she pushed aside those dark thoughts, enjoying the time she spent with her grandmother and Macha.

“I expect Lord Kelvin to bring the Royal Thaumaturgist with him to deal with shadow creature.”

“That’s more good news, then.”

“Right, so don’t go off and search for the thing yourself. You have done enough already.” Mach said while pointing her finger at Aislin.

“I agree. Also, once his lordship returns the three of us,” Ina looked at Macha for a moment and then smiled. “The four of us will sit down and discuss your past.”

“Why not now?” Aislin spooned a mouthful of Wardonys into her mouth. The poached fruit had always been one of her favorite desserts.

“I gave Lord Kelvin my word. Plus, there are a few things that need to be decided before we can talk.”

Aislin nodded. It had been rather foolish to think that her grandmother would tell her all those tonight. She would just have to put them in the back of her mind, as she had more pressing worries in the hours ahead.

The three women stayed awake much later than normal, catching up on the news. Ina had seen very little of her grandchild, and it was nice to have her home for a chance.

Suddenly tired, the Wise Woman covered her mouth with a yawn. “I think it’s time for bed, everyone.”

Macha, too, couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Reaching for her grandmother, Aislin held her close. “Thank you for tonight; the food was excellent as always.”

“I’m surprised you left any of the Wardonys for us.” Ina returned the hug. As a sudden wave of drowsiness seemed to come upon the Wise Woman, Aislin guided her to her bedroom.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Macha.” She called out.

After helping with her outer garments, she tucked grandmother into bed.

“Child, I should be putting you to bed, not the other way around.”

“Yes, well, it’s my turn tonight. Plus, I had a lot less mulled wine.” Reaching over, she gently kissed Ina on the forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Aislin.” Seconds later, the Wise Woman fell into a deep sleep.

With a sad smile, the King’s Healer walked into the bedroom that she shared with Macha. Finding her beloved half-dressed sitting on the bed, Aislin began to help her undress as well.

“You’re doing this, aren’t you?” Macha said accusingly. “At first, I thought that you drugged the two of us, but you didn’t, did you?”

The young apprentice had heard rumors of another Healer able to do something similar, allowing them to sleep while she worked. However, if someone resisted it, then they wouldn’t go to sleep. Aislin power simply overwhelmed those desires.

“It’s time for you to go to sleep.” Aislin finished helping her get undressed, and like her grandmother got her into bed without much of a fight.

“No, please tell me what’s going on.” The young apprentice wailed, fighting against whatever power was putting her to sleep.

Aislin sighed, Macha deserved to know. There was little chance anyone would be able to follow her once she entered the woods. Taking her love by the hand, the King’s Healer went over last night’s dreams.

“NO, you can’t go. Please, at least take me with you.”

“I can’t, Macha; I refuse to put another person’s life in danger. Don’t you see?” Tears were now coming down Aislin’s face. “This is a more than a fair trade; even just to protect you and my grandmother.”

The young apprentice continued to struggle, although her will formidable, Macha found it paled in comparison to Aislin’s. The last thing she had felt before sleep claimed her was Aislin kissing her on the lips, and telling her how much she loved her.

Donning her mother’s clothing, Aislin, now in full King’s Healer regalia headed out the door. Placing the band around her shoulder, she pulled the golden medallion to her lips, praying to the gods for protection.

As she headed towards the edge of the forest, Aislin knew that the armsmen, who sat around a campfire next to her cottage, were now all fast asleep. She had gained more than a few powers since her battle with the shadow creature.

Walking under the full moon; Aislin had started to become depressed at the thought of never seeing those she loved again. Earlier in her life, she would have continued her walk, feeling as if she were approaching the gallows.

However, that Aislin had vanished, disappearing when she put on her mother’s clothes for the first time no longer was she the frightened little boy. Although there were still many mysteries in her past, Aislin had no plans to just give up.

Upon entering the woods, quickly passing the clearing that first started this journey, she readied herself for the upcoming battle. She would not cower or whimper in the face of that shadow.

And although the likelihood of her coming home was slim, she would wrap that hope around her heart as if it were armor. And in the end, if she fell, after protecting the ones she loved, the sacrifice had been worth it.

Chapter 11

After three days of hard travel, Aislin stood high in the treetops, staring into the vast swamp called the Oáche Foraoise. Sitting in the center of the Wyre Forest, legends spoke of its birth at the very moment of the Sorceress Liadan’s death, one last evil bit of magic inflicted upon the world. True or not, only the foolish ever ventured very far into it.

In its center, she would find the ruins of Dubh Caisleáin. Not that she knew its exact location, but in her dreams, they showed an ancient road. From there, it would take her directly to the castle.

Waiting for a bear-like creature to pass under the tree, Aislin jumped from its branches, gliding softly to the ground. Discovering it by accident the day before, she appeared to have gained some control over the elements.

The ability to jump a little farther than normal or float down from a tree branch would come in handy during her journey, but if she could only learn how to fly. The trip to the castle and back would only take a day at the most. Still, Aislin always wondered what it would be like to be a bird, to fly away from her old life, to be free.

Such fanciful powers were beyond someone like her, though. Only the greatest of mages, such as the seven master Thaumaturgists who battled against the Sorceress, had such wonderful gifts. However, even those powerful mages flew on the backs of powerful elementals. According to the same stories, only one mage ever could fly, taking the form of an enormous black dragon, the Black Sorceress herself.

Giggling at such a foolish thought, Aislin stepped into the marsh, trying to keep away from the edge of the deeper waters. She couldn’t fathom the shadow creature’s intent on having her make such a perilous journey, much less take it alone. Perhaps it meant to test her abilities; more than likely the shadow creature just hoped she would end up in some belly of some monster.

By the end of the third day, moving across the marsh gave her little trouble. Oddly enough, the creatures that inhabited the swamp started to give her a wide berth, perhaps perceiving her as some threat. Not that Aislin understood why. Happily, though, the bugs, which had found her quite tasty at first, also left her alone.

Finally, by week's end, the ground began to rise, revealing the start of the ancient road. Obviously enchanted, as neither time nor the elements seemed to have damaged the old stones, Aislin felt it a safe place to spend the night before heading further into the center of the Oáche Foraoise.

Looking down at herself, Aislin grimaced, before removing her outer dress, and carefully set it aside. After stripping off the remaining filthy layers, she concentrated for a moment before pulling clean water directly out of the muddy swamp. Although Aislin believed she brought enough fresh water for the journey, this new skill had made it much easier to travel. Now if she could only learn how to warm the water.

Satisfied or at least less disgusted with herself, she slipped on a clean chemise before setting about brushing the dirt off her outer dress. Call it vanity or whatever; Aislin refused to enter the Sorceress’ castle entirely covered in muck and mire.

With the outer dress somewhat more presentable, she began to make a place for a small fire off to the side of the road. With care, Aislin put several rocks in a circle above a small pit on the ground to lessen any chance of any fire spreading. Not that she expected such a thing to happen, however, she knew that she still had to be careful.

For the last few days, the swamp felt as if it was watching her. When the first fingers of flame burst from the small pile of wood shavings, Aislin could feel it, like some ancient spirit taking notice. Deciding that she meant no harm, it settled back down.

Clean and now, with a small cup of redberry tea in hand, Aislin felt more like herself than she had in the last few days. Her journey appeared to be coming to an end, and whatever fate had in mind for her lay down the enchanted road.

After cleaning up her campsite, as the sun broke over the horizon the next day, Aislin thanked the ancient swamp for the company during her journey. A strange thing to do perhaps, but she felt that it appreciated the gesture.

The Oáche Foraoise, which had seemed so intimating at first, no longer felt like a stranger, and as she took her first step towards the castle, she didn’t feel as alone.

By mid-afternoon, Aislin spotted the ruins of a magnificent keep off in the distance, but she knew it to be a trick, an illusion. The King’s Healer could see in her mind, the tall black spires, powerful battlements, and thick walls, all very much intact.

As she drew near, the illusion crumbled, revealing a massive structure black as night. With no entrance or even a window, Aislin searched for another way into the keep. Perhaps she did need to learn how to fly after all; apparently any other way to the Sorceress’ Keep seemed unlikely.

Drawing closer, now coming under the shadow of the great black wall, a wave of fear washed over her, almost causing her to panic. Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, Aislin gritted her teeth. Difficult at first, she took one step forward then another, understanding that the fear came from the castle.

Immediately, like the illusionary ruins, the fear vanished. With another one of the castle’s defenses defeated, an archway appeared right in front of Aislin.

Deciding that she would have to enter the Keep anyway, and having little desire to spend another night in the swamp, Aislin passed under the archway only to see it vanish behind her.

“Good day to you, Lady, welcome to Dubh Caisleáin.”

The King’s Healer jumped back, so intent on looking for an exit, she almost ran over the diminutive greeter.

“Thank you.” Surprised not to be confronted by the beast as soon as she entered the castle, Aislin realized that the woman was not human.

“Oh, you’re a gnome.”

Barely coming up to her waist, dressed in simple browns and greens, the small woman’s clothing wouldn’t be out of place in Lord Kevin’s Castle. Still, Aislin would have been surprised to find a servant with sharp pointing ears and dark brown almond-shaped eyes strolling about.

“Yes, Lady, if you will come with me.”

Trying hard not to stare, she had read stories of elementals such as gnomes taking human-looking form. She just never expected actually to meet one.

“Aislin, my name is Aislin.”

“Very well, Lady Aislin.”

As the two walked down a long hallway, the King’s Healer studied the black walls. Unlike Lord Kelvin’s cattle, Dubh Caisleáin seemed crafted from a single piece of stone. It came as no surprise that it bore a similar appearance to the monolith, which the villagers had unearthed many weeks before.

One would also expect the corridors of a black castle to be dark, however a warm light, coming from inside the stone itself, kept its corridors well lit.

“It almost feels like crystal,” Aislin mumbled, touching a wall with her hand.

“My lady, this is your room.” The small figure came to a sudden halt, once again almost causing Aislin to run into her.

Through an open archway, she found several comfortable looking chairs, numerous beautiful tapestries, and a small round table covered with cakes and drinks. Resisting the urge to throw herself into one of the chairs, Aislin turned around to thank the woman, only to find the door had vanished.

“Guess I’m a prisoner.”

“My lady, A bath is prepared.”

Spinning back around, Aislin found two more gnomes standing near a new opening that had appeared on the black wall.

“A bath sounds lovely; however, this is not really what I expected when I entered the castle.”

The two looked at one another for a moment and then turned away. “This way, please.”

Seeing that she wasn't going to get any answers, Aislin followed.

The new room appeared to be quite spacious, dominated by a large stone bath built into the floor. Walking forward with a smile, Aislin sat down and ran her hands through the water, feeling its warmth. With her new senses, she could feel the heat source deep underneath the castle.

Moments later, ignoring Aislin’s objections, the two gnome women quickly disrobed her, put her in the bath then disappeared with her clothes. Embarrassed about being undressed by the two gnomes and having to reveal her odd-looking body, Aislin closed her eyes and tried to relax.

At least they were polite enough not to say anything, even going so far to fill the air with a flowery scent that settled one's nerves. Although she believed she knew what lay ahead, Aislin decided to enjoy the moment.

Sometime later, the two gnome women seemed to return. Noticing something different about them, Aislin smiled. “Oh, you two are different from the ones from before.”

Stepping backward, the two gnomes looked a little frightened before helping Aislin out of the bath, “Come, my lady; let us dress you for this evening.”

“What is going to be happening to me this evening, may I ask?”

“You have been invited to dine with the current master of the castle.”

Aislin nodded, stranger and stranger, so far no battle to the death, no contest of wills. Did the shadow creature usually bathe and feed its victims?

“Has the master of the castle had others dine with him recently?”

“No, my lady, you are the first.”

Moved into a large bedroom, the two women quickly dried her off before helping her put on a clean chemise. Once again, Aislin felt embarrassed about her body, but the gnome women didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, this is lovely.” Aislin admired the clothing laid out on the bed. Even her mother’s clothes did not appear as well made.

Soon the gnomes went about their work, dressing Aislin for the evening meal. Although she didn’t mind the undergown, which had close-fitting sleeves, tight fitted around the wrists. Aislin wasn’t too happy with the corset.

Now in a wide black skirt, the gnomes slipped on a little midnight blue and silver embroidered jacket. With the inside covered in silk, the outside had small pearls woven into the fabric.

The two gnome women were far from finished, working on Aislin’s hair, somehow adding more to its length, while fastening small silver jewelry to her braids.

“Well, at least I will be well dressed,” Aislin said, thinking macabre thoughts before smiling at the two gnomes. “Thank you, both.”

The gnomes looked puzzled for a moment and then bowed before disappearing directly into the castle walls.

Now finding herself alone, Aislin couldn’t help but admire the dress. How strange, only a few months before she wouldn’t have thought about wearing such clothing, now she wouldn’t wear anything else.

Gliding back into the sitting room, she didn’t have long to admire her new shoes either before confronted by four well-armed gnomes.

Dressed in heavy mail and half-plate, these little warriors looked to be even more dangerous than either Nevan or Miles.

“If you please Lady Aislin, our master is waiting.” The gnome’s voice was strong, deep sounding like it came from far beneath the ground.

“I see, may I ask who your master is?”

The gnome stared at her for a moment before answering. “The Prince.”

Walking down the black hallways, Aislin reflected that the Sorceress castle felt like a donjon rather than a place where people lived. With no windows, no opening to see the sun, she felt cut off from the outside world.

Passing through another large corridor, the group walked underneath a large archway, stepping into a brightly lit banquet all. All along the walls, banners were displayed of city-states and nations long forgotten.

At the end of the long banquet table garbed all in black, stood the beast. As he approached, Aislin prepared to do battle, but instead, the silver-haired man gave her a slight bow and kissed on the hand.

“It’s good to see you again, Aislin. You may call me Prince Scáith.”

Shadow in the old tongue, how appropriate, she thought. “I did not quite expect this level of hospitality upon entering the castle of the Black Sorceress, your Highness.”

Smiling, he motioned for Aislin to take a seat. “I see no reason for this meeting to become unpleasant.”

“I see.” Not that she trusted the creature, but talking was always better than fighting.

“In fact, I hoped you, and I can come to terms, but first, let us eat. You will find that there are many advantages to living in Dubh Caisleáin.”

“I hadn’t planned on living here.”

“Yes, we shall talk about that later.”

Waving his hand, the table, which had been empty, began to change. A long tablecloth appeared, settling down neatly followed by a beautiful crystal centerpiece in the shape of flying birds. Plates of gold followed soon afterward.

Not used to such lavish displays, Aislin wasn’t sure what to make of this Prince. In her dreams, he threatened to imprison her in the dream world. If she didn’t know better, the creature seemed to be courting her.

Perhaps it expected to overwhelm her by such opulence, but she refused to let her guard down. The creature had threatened to imprison her; it had slain over a dozen girls and had inflicted a horror upon Lord Kelvin’s lands.

Course after course soon followed seasoned stag, civet of hare, stuff chicken, and various wines and bread. Meat pies filled with deer, eggs, and pigeon covered the table. Finally, berries from the south along with clotted cráme and cheese.

A King's banquet for two, Aislin couldn’t eat even a third of what the elemental servants placed on the table.

“Do you regularly feed your victims?”

A half-smile formed on the Prince’s lips as he sipped from a golden goblet filled with distilled wine.

“No.”

“As much as I appreciate the meal, to put it as delicately as possible, why am I here?”

The creature frowned for a moment, then nodded, “Right to the point. Let me tell you a story. Not far from where we are sitting now, two girls were born, twins. Réalta, the oldest by only a few breaths, was fair in complexions and hair as black as night. Her sister, Liadan had hair like the sun and a disposition to match.”

Aislin looked confused; she had never heard that the Sorceress had a sister. Stories also told that she had been named the Black Sorceress because of her hair.

The Prince raised his hand before Aislin could voice a question. “Let me tell the tale; I will answer all questions afterward.”

“Yes, sorry, please continue.”

With a nod and a sip of the distilled wine, he continued. “Now back in those days, when a midwife notices a child with certain marks or are shall we say looks different, they do not allow the child to take its first breath.

Both these twin girls had such marks; however, the midwife in question was the best friend of the mother. Fearing for her daughter’s lives, as her husband would take matters into his own hands, she pleaded for her friend to take the children away.

Now leaving a village for the unknown was no small task, and although I don’t know the details, both twins would prosper under the care of the midwife.

It should not have been surprised to learn that before both girls were out of swaddling clothes, they began to interact with the elementals around them. Simple things at first, a look, a smile, but when items began to move by themselves around the cottage, it caused problems. Unfortunately, this required their guardian to move to another village on several occasions.

By the time the two girls learned to walk, they could hide their gifts. Although, at times, the two of them had problems speaking to adults as they considered them their equals or betters.

At the first blossom of womanhood, their lives would change. Kyra, their protector who they always called Aunt, was killed in a raid. She had been waiting for the birth of a warlord’s child and stayed with the mother while the father and his sons went off to war. The girls were in the forest, gathering herbs that would help ease the pregnancy when the raid happened.

Allies of the Warlord supposedly burned down the camp and killed everyone inside. Of course, Kyra never left the pregnant woman’s side, and she died along with her.”

Aislin held her breath as the Prince took another cup of wine from unseen hands.

“Now Réalta, she always had a bit of a temper, but poor Liadan went mad with grief. Most likely, the more powerful of the two, although I personally wouldn’t want to get in the middle of them, she reached into the Spirit Realm with her anger and grief and found a Prince of their kind. Bound him without a thought and sent him against those who killed their Aunt.”

“The warriors?” Aislin asked.

“Every last one of them, but Réalta kept her from ordering the Prince to do more. She had seen this before, armies marching across, pillaging, raping, and killing without reason and wanted no part of it.”

The beast smiled. “I see that you know the rest?”

“The Sorceress came upon a Warlord of great promise and said if he followed her, she would give him great power. From there, she gathered more warlords and eventually built her Kingdom.”

“Yes, that’s mostly right.”

“But I have never heard of a sister.”

“Well, it was a long time ago, but there was one, although storytellers mix the two women often enough. I suppose by now they are one person, but there were always two of them.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Aislin frowned.

“What Liadan didn’t know, Réalta had a vision about her Aunt’s death many weeks before. She was also the one who insisted that the two of them go into the woods to look for plants.”

“So, she allowed her Aunt to be killed?”

“Réalta explained that if this hadn’t come to pass, then there would have been terrible consequences. Liadan acted as if she too was betrayed, leaving with the Warlord’s army to create her Kingdom; for she too had a vision while delving so deeply into the Spirit Realm that the two of them must separate for a time.

Réalta wandered the lands, healing those who were ill. In time she found another like her, made her an apprentice, and sent her off to be the healer of other villages.”

“Wisewomen,” Aislin said, surprised. “Then what about all of the stories about the Black Sorceress stealing girls?”

The beat laughed. “Foolish story but typical, Réalta had after some time reunited with her sister, who now stood on the throne. The two realized that they needed to somehow protect others like them.”

“So, they just went to a village and took the children away?”

“Often right out of the hands of those who were planning on murdering the child, so yes. Aislin, don’t tell me that practice has stopped?”

The King’s Healer started to object but only shook her head. It still happened, especially in the southern kingdoms.

“I won’t bore you with the stories you heard all of your life, how the Black Sorceress had conquered the free lands, inflicting harm upon the good people. And that the captains, who wanted freedom, rose up to defeat the evil Queen.”

“That’s not what happened?” Aislin had always enjoyed those stories of heroic deeds, often place herself by the side of one of the Kings.

“Not quite, oh, there were battles, but we will get into that a little later. No, she decided to dismantle her own kingdom.”

Aislin sat back a little; the creature had suddenly crushed the golden cup in his hands. Seeing what he had done, he bowed his head.

"Apologies, my dear, see Liadan had a vision of great darkness coming, a devourer which would despoil all the lands.”

“From the north,” Aislin whispered. Looking up, she could see the Prince looking directly into her eyes.

“You are the one.”

“Who?”

“Liadan’s heir.”

Aislin almost stood up in a panic; she couldn’t be the heir to the Black Sorceress. “I’m nothing like her; I don’t covet power. I don’t want to rule anyone.”

“I believe she said the same thing.”

“I can’t be,” Aislin whispered.

The Prince raised his hand once more. “If you let me continue, perhaps it will answer a few more of your questions.”

Aislin nodded, reaching for a golden cup of the distilled wine, she downed half of it before realizing what she was going. While Aislin caught her breath, Prince Scáith continued.

“Liadan understood that if she remained in power when the darkness came, all would be lost. Knowing that she prepared, she created this place for her successor. This keep became the last holdout against the darkness, where she would store all of her knowledge, all of her wisdom, so when the time came, her successor would be ready.”

“So they didn’t attack her? What about the hero Cuthian and his companions who slew the red dragon of Malikar at the very gates of the Sorceress castle?”

“Who?”

Aislin made a face. “Or what about the seven master Thaumaturgists who battled against the Black Sorceress?”

“Never existed.”

Aislin sighed; tales of her childhood were all just stories. However, the last one must be true.

“How about the love story between Oisin and Enya?”

She always held this love story in a secret place in her heart. The mysterious enchantress Enya and great warrior captain Oisin met for the first time when she saved him from certain death as he faced the terrible beast called Ollphéist. Not that she would tell anyone, but she always thought that a young girl rescuing a warrior made a much better story.

Afterward, the wise Enya and the strong Oisin, along with six other great captains, would defeat the Black Sorceress’ greatest Generals. With her defeated, Oisin would be crowned High King, with Enya as his bride. The other Captains would later become the rulers of the first nations.

“Well, that story or parts of it anyway are correct. Understand, as Liadan was too busy to pay attention to her kingdom, she needed to make sure that the right leaders would take control.”

Aislin thought for a moment. “You’re telling me that Réalta became Enya the Wise?”

“Of course, neither sister was going to leave anything to chance.”

“So who did these Captains fight?”

Prince Scáith laughed. “Why each other, of course, well the weaker ones anyway. Liadan knew which leaders needed to take power, and Réalta made sure that it happened.”

“So did Réalta become Oisin’s Queen?”

The bards told tales of their beautiful wedding, and of a love that continued to touch people even in her own time. Rulers have always tried to compare themselves with Oisin, and every Queen wishes to be as wise as Enya.

“Yes, and you, my dear Aislin, are a distant child of that union.”

Aislin looked down at her plate. That couldn’t be true; she wasn’t that special.

“So who sealed you away, Prince Scáith? Who placed you in that black rock?”

The beast growled. “It was Liadan who sealed me knowing the stone would only appear when the heir started to come to her power. She also commanded me to bring the child to the Keep.

“Then you must have known those girls you killed were not the heir, why did you take them?” The King’s Healer looked up, directly into the eyes of the beast.

“They all had the gift to some degree. What I needed from them was that power, which I used to make ready this fortress for your return.”

The two stared at one another for a moment, and then Aislin said. “You didn’t need their power, did you?”

“Why should I waste my abilities on such a mundane task when there were others who served the purpose better?”

“And the curse? From what you have told me of both Liadan and Réalta, they would never have done such a thing.”

“Don’t be too sure, the Black Sorceress, as you call her, was more than capable if she determined it would be for the better. But you are right, I needed to find the heir quickly and what better way to find her, a curse that only she could cure.”

“So many lives.” She whispered. “Why didn’t you find me sooner?”

“Because like Liadan and her sister, you possess the ability to hide your true power; even now, I can tell that you have the gift but not your strength. In fact, you only made it possible when you created that ward around your cottage. It was only a matter of time before I determined between you and the other girl, who was the heir.”

The beast leaned back in his chair. “However, as much as I believe that you are Liadan’s heir, only she can take control of this fortress.”

“What do you mean?” Aislin looked around; she didn’t have any idea how to take control of such a fortress, much less command the elementals that dwelled in it.

“Lets us continue this conversation in the morning. It is getting late, and you are weary from travel. Besides, I still have a few minor tasks to perform.”

As the Prince began to escort her across the room, Aislin asked. “So your Highness, what happens if I am the heir?”

The Prince gave a half-smile before kissing her hand. “The fortress and all in it is yours to command.”

“Including you?”

The beast laughed. “Yes, including me.”

“And let’s say I am not the heir?”

Prince Scáith gave Aislina a slight bow, before passing her off to her gnome escort. “Well, then, I shall send you home.”

Aislin walked out of the hall, well aware that if she were not Liadan’s heir, she would never leave the fortress alive.

Chapter 12

Aislin’s mind wandered while the two gnome women got her ready for bed. Too many things she didn’t understand, which included almost everything that had come from the creature’s mouth, swirled around in her head.

Well, before she met the Prince in her dreams, Aislin had started to be able to tell when someone lied to her. Unfortunately, the beast had been either truthful, which seemed unlikely, or she just couldn’t read him. However, whatever he might have said to her during the feast, whatever the Prince had planned, he would make sure it would solely benefit him.

Also, could she be the lost decedent of the Black Sorceress and her sister, if there were actually two of them? However, the story felt right. From what the Prince said, while one sister created a Kingdom, the second walked the lands training those with power. Aislin first thought had been Wisewomen, not because she believed the creature’s story but because it also felt right.

Remembering the fate that befell them, at least sending healers off as Wisewomen, and others standing by the side of the powerful captains, perhaps those with the gift would become a little more accepted.

But Aislin also knew that being in such positions, they would be considered the eyes and ears of the Black Sorceress. Very little would have taken place in the realm without it coming back to the Black Sorceress. Did the captains and villages not understand that?

Aislin would have thought at the first sign of trouble, those with the gift would have been attacked, but that didn’t take place. In fact, from the many legends and stories written, the Healers, Thaumaturgists, and others battled the Black Sorceress and her minions. Of course, that had to have been part of the twin’s plan. Still, even with those stories, society had a long way to go before accepting people like Aislin.

Suddenly without warning, the King’s Healer stood on a large hill, overlooking a valley leading into the very depths of what she believed to be the Kaltur Mountains. Stripped of all vegetation, the valley before her seemed empty, utterly void of all life. Some terrible magics must have taken place here.

To her left and right, Knights and men-at-arms stood silently in formation, all under different banners. Some coats-of-arms were familiar, but the majority were not.

As she watched, the banners began to change, along with the troops underneath them. From cavalry to infantry, from heavily armored soldiers to warriors wearing nothing but blue tattoos, all appeared beside her. Warriors from all across the lands joined those soldiers from her own. Heavily armored Milites from the south, Trodaá Housecarls from across the ocean, and even contingents of several famous mercenary companies took place in line.

Even the lords and captains, who led the troops, disappeared replaced by others. All of it changing, nothing seemed fixed, except for the location. That remained constant.

The King’s Healer had a sudden feeling that all the deeds accomplished by the Black Sorceress and her sister had been so the lands could face the darkness in strength. Long-range plans indeed.

Blinking her eyes several times, Aislin found herself back in her bedroom. How much time had passed? The two gnome women were only now putting her clothes away. So it had only been a moment, perhaps no longer than it took to blink.

Taking a seat on the bed, she continued to contemplate the day’s events when she noticed for the first time that each of the gnomes wore a small brass chain around the neck.

The chains didn’t look right though, not moving as if they were actually part of the women’s bodies. Aislin even recognized that the guards also wore something similar embedded upon their breastplates.

“Can I ask a question?”

The two gnome women finished putting away the King’s Healers garb stepped forward.

“How may we help you?”

“What are those chains for?”

One of the gnomes looked down, laying her hand on the simple chain.

“Symbols of our bond.”

“Your bond?” Aislin then realized that although the two gnomes took human shape, they were elementals after a fashion. “You can’t leave the castle.”

“No, like the sprites who keep the air clean, and the salamanders that warm its interior, we were summoned when the Keep took form. Their purpose, like ours, is to serve its owner.”

Aislin felt uncomfortable knowing that the creatures of the Keep were nothing more than slaves. Even in her lands, this happened to those who became indebted to someone, often through no fault of their own. They would have to work off that debt before they could be freed, but this wasn’t the same thing.

Eternal slavery; but that didn’t sound right, when Thaumaturgists died, she thought the bonds were broken, and the creature returned to their lands. Did that mean the Black Sorceress had not died or perhaps another power kept the gnomes prisoner?

“Like the Prince.”

One of the gnomes gave a small laugh. “No, he is like us, waiting for our true Master to return.”

So, if it wasn’t the Prince, perhaps the castle’s magics were powerful enough to keep them bound. A terrifying thought.

“What would you do if you were free?”

“Free?” The two gnomes looked at one another, then shrugged before disappearing in the walls. “Goodnight, my lady.”

With even more on her mind, sleep would not be coming to her tonight. She knew that. With a small laugh, Aislin sat back in bed and tried to relax. If part of her slipped into the Spirit Realm, she could do without sleep for several days.

Oh, she would pay for it if she did it too long, but for now, just curling up under the blankets felt nice. As Aislin prepared for the long night ahead, she missed one thing above all, Macha lying next to her.

Several hours before sunrise, the King’s Healer watched with amusement as a dozen well-armored gnomes marched through her bedroom walls before coming to a sudden halt. The decision to dress an hour before had apparently been the correct one.

Gently setting down the book she had brought in her healer's bag, Aislin smiled. “A good morning to you, I assume you have come to escort me to the Prince.”

Although the guards looked startled at her appearance, most had small smiles on their faces.

“Good Morning, Lady Aislin, as you have guessed, the Prince requires your presence.”

Aislin shook her head as the gnome warriors quickly surrounded her. Unnecessary, but perhaps the Prince thought she planned on escaping. As she hadn’t quite learned the trick of passing through walls, that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe the beast didn’t know what powers she possessed.

She almost stumbled at that thought. The Prince didn’t know at all what powers she could call upon. But what did it think she could do? Did he believe her to be a threat?

“I know it’s still a few hours before dawn, but could we go someplace where I can get something to eat first?”

“My lady, can you feel the sunrise through the walls?” The leader of her escort asked.

“Well yes, it’s not that unusual for someone who has a touch of power is it?”

“More than a bit of power.” Aislin overheard one of the guards behind her mumble.

“I’m sorry, Lady Aislin. The Prince has requested you to be brought directly to him. As he knew you would ask, he told me to inform you that the ritual must begin before the sunrise, and on an empty stomach.”

Aislin frowned. That didn’t make a bit of sense. All magic required power, even coming from an external source would tax the person casting it. Food gave extra energy and eating afterward helped replenish what was lost.

Perhaps the gnomes had orders to drag her out of bed, without being allowed to dress. Although walking around in a chemise didn’t disturb her, it might have caused others undue distress. Luckily, she had only dozed, getting out of bed hours before.

“No matter, I’m curious what the Prince has in store for me today.” Aislin realized she had spoken the truth.

As she and her escort continued down the long hallways, Aislin knew they were taking her beneath the castle. Even after waking up several flights of stairs, she knew their true direction never changed.

She imagined the strange hallways and corridors that happened to be another one of the castle’s defenses. Although Aislin believed she could find her way back to her room without help, the layout of the Keep would give any attacker a fit. Then again, an attacker would have to make it into the castle in the first place. That seemed unlikely.

Her journey appeared to come to an end as the group stepping into a small room covered with a mosaic of colored stones. Aislin smiled, noticing that the stones formed a great map of the realm.

The picture ran all along the walls, showing places she had never even read about. Mountains in the north, covered in ice and snow, and deserts far to the south. Even the ocean, made of small bluish-green stones covered part of a wall.

Smiling, Aislin quickly found her village and Lord Kelvin’s castle. How strange, why didn’t the map depict the lands during the reign of the Sorceress? As Aislin ran her hands over the Wyre forest, made of different colored green stones, she stopped.

The Prince now stood in the center of the room with a smile on his face, which quickly disappeared. The raven-haired beauty found it fascinating, the emotions that played across the beast’s face. First confusion, then anger, then what looked like genuine fear.

“Good morning to you, Aislin. I hope that you slept well.” The Prince gave a small bow before giving a murderous look at the guards, who all took a step back.

“On and off really, I was glad that my escort arrived when it did. I was getting a little bored.” The gnomes looked at Aislin for a moment but didn’t say anything. She saw no need for them to get into trouble on her account.

“I see.” The Prince walked up, reaching above her head to press his hand on a small stone in the center of the Wyre Forest. Behind her, an archway appeared.

“Follow me; we don’t have a lot of time before the sunrise, so we must complete the ritual before then.”

Noticing the guards had vanished, Aislin followed the Prince down a small flight of circular stairs. “What do you mean by a ritual?”

“The ritual that will allow you to become the mistress of the castle of course.”

Aislin stopped as the Prince entered a small round room, feeling as if she now stood directly in the center of the castle. However, what Aislin felt above all was power. The King’s Healer could feel it seeping into her bones.

Surprised at first that the power didn’t burst into the room above, Aislin discovered hundreds of wards covering the room. Layers, upon layers like an intricate spider web of power.

“What now?”

The creature smiled, now he would get his revenge. A mere mortal had dared to bind him as if he were a simple elemental.

Afterward, Liadan had even sealed him away in the black stone, knowing the havoc he would rain on the land when she vanished. The Prince still intended to do just that. Ironically, the form of his vengeance came out of the mouths of those who enslaved him.

The Prince understood Aislin and Liadan’s visions. Beyond the edge of existence, terrible darkness roamed, a destroyer of worlds. He would open a gateway to this world in which the darkness would pour out of and onto the land absorbing all magic, all life as if it were nothing more than a tasty meal.

Nothing would be left alive. Only Aislin stood in his way, a child who still had not shown any real power.

“You see the small golden circle in the center of the room. Just step on it, Aislin. If you are the mistress of the castle, we will know quickly enough. If not, then I will open another doorway, and you can make your way home.”

“So, if I fail, will you still continue your search?”

Aislin still doubted she would be leaving the room alive if she did not take control of the Keep. Something about the Prince had changed. The way he held himself, the way he talked as if he was ready to do battle. She knew it might just come down to that, but what could she do?

“I have no choice, however; I feel that you are the one that Liadan foretold.”

Nodding, Aislin took a deep breath then stepped upon the golden circle. Feeling nothing, she turned. “Doesn’t seem….”
The wards surrounding the room collapsed, falling upon themselves. Like a blanket, they wrapped themselves around Aislin. She could feel their warmth as if her mother held her close. Then suddenly, a lifetime of knowledge began to pour into her.

The Prince had waited for that very movement before he began to move. Aislin would never be more vulnerable. Although the beast didn’t exactly understand what magics were taking place, it knew that she wouldn’t be able to defend herself properly.

When the Prince found that it also couldn’t move, he began to howl. How had that troublesome mortal throughout all of the centuries understood what he would do given a chance? Could she have actually had a vision of his betrayal, ensnaring him in her trap as if he was a small animal?

Nevertheless, as powerful as her magics might have been, she wasn’t present, only the remains of her ancient magics kept him in place. If he could just force his way through the intricate web that surrounded him, he would still have a chance.

Unfortunately, as much as he struggled, the Prince still could not move. In fact, the more he fought, the more the trap tightened around him. Looking up, the powerful creature almost stumbled back in fear. A ghostly presence had wrapped its arms around Aislin, seemingly whispering in her ear.

“Liadan?”

The ghostly presence grinned before turning back to Aislin.

Impossible, the Prince continued to push at the webs, looking for a weak point. When released from his stone prison, he wondered why he and the others had not been set free upon Liadan’s death. As expected, the Black Sorceress had never truly died, a small part of her continued to live on inside the castle.

As the Prince struggled in front of her, Aislin tried to understand the information that poured into her but found it impossible. Only the loving presence holding her close kept her sane. As each wave of knowledge rolled over her body, she could feel something deep inside her change.

The Prince shield his eyes as Aislin’s clothes fell away, the ashes falling like snow as she began to burn with pure white light. Rising from the ground, still, in the arms of the ghostly presence, the human’s body began to change as well. Slowly she took the form that she should have taken in birth, a body that now radiated with its own power.

Growling, the Prince knew why he had never been able to feel her presence; some greater power had been protecting her. Who had cast such powerful magic? Only one other person should have been capable, and that one should belong centuries dead.

The creature howled, realizing that its plans were now thwarted.

Slowly Aislin could felt more like herself, but then again so unlike herself. She smiled, understanding what had just taken place. What a simple thing to feel complete.

As the web of magic fell away, so too did the warmth that protected her, but she could still feel its presence deep inside the Keep. With her mind now full of knowledge, Aislin was having difficulty sorting through it all. She felt like some giant puzzle with its parts scattered about in her mind. It would take some time to sort out the new knowledge from her own, but one piece she needed now.

As Aislin settled back to the ground, the Prince felt the troublesome bonds fall away. He understood that there would be no other chances for him to get his revenge, but standing before him was not the simple half-girl he brought into the room.

Garbed in a long white dress, the newly appointed Sorceress stood in the full blossom of womanhood oozed with power.

Looking at the Prince and said one word. “Submit.”

Thaumaturgists often wrote that the binding of a creature from the Spirit Realm only took a little magic. The summoning itself took much more. What it did take was the will of those involved.

Without the substantial protection of wards of power, many Thaumaturgists could simply not face the creatures in the spirit realm. If they failed, the elementals would usually kill the Summoner before returning home. Even the smallest of elementals posed a serious threat. No Thaumaturgists in their right mind would even think of summoning a creature such as the Prince.

Aislin did not have a protective ward, she simply had her own will, and it was formidable. No physical combat took place; the two simply stared at one another. It was over before the Prince could even force his will upon her.

He remembered well when Liadan summoned him from his home in the Spirit Realm, but this was different. Aislin attacked him with such overwhelming power that he could feel his very existence in danger.

Shaking, the Prince went down one knee, no longer able to look into those cold blue eyes.

“Mistress, how may I serve you?”

Chapter 13

Plodding through halls of stone, the shadow creature known as Prince Scáit wondered if things could get any worse. All of those century-old plans thwarted by a wisp of a girl, who seemed so powerless at first but now seemed so terrifying.

Still, he would wait to have all the time in the world. Eventually, even the strongest made mistakes. For example, Aislin made her first of what most likely would be many, right after the ceremony.

For centuries, Dubh Caisleáin had been the solid black stone fortress with no way to enter. Now, all sorts of window-like openings have appeared. Some large, some small, all allowing the wind and sun into the black halls of Dubh Caisleáin. In its state now, it would offer little protection from the wind, much less enemies from the outside.

The creature, forced into cat form for the time being, with its head on a window ledge, looked out over the swamp. “Still, it feels good to feel the wind on one's face.”

Growling, the former elemental Prince made his way down several more passageways. This last decision by hers, however, was intolerable.

Aislin stood in front of the tall mirror, studying her reflection. The mirror no longer reflected the half-person who entered Dubh Caisleáin a few days ago. As if a dream, she had somehow matured into the woman she was supposed to be. Full breasts, wide hips, pointing down to a very female mound; she had finally blossomed.

Even with all of the knowledge she now possessed, Aislin still didn’t know if the magic had changed or repaired her body. Although she had some ideas, there were still too many questions left unanswered. However, taking a better look at her reflection once more, the new Sorceress had a feeling that perhaps it had been for her protection after all.

Although if it had been an enchantment, a powerful one at that, with its intent to keep her from harm, it had done quite the opposite. Still, troubled by the existence or non-existence of such an enchantment served no purpose. As the new owner of Dubh Caisleáin, there were too many other things to worry about.

Sighing, Aislin turned to face the shadow creature as it quietly slipped into the room. Since their battle of wills and his binding, Aislin always knew the Prince’s exact location.

“Scáith, do you need something of me?”

Moving into the room, the shadow feline suddenly stopped as his new mistress clothed herself in a long black dress. The outfit itself, although beautiful, did not impress Scáith, but the fabric caught his attention. Spirit silk now adorned the new Sorceress, more protective than steel but light as a breath.

“Why?” The creature growled. “Such a thing is unheard of, how do you expect us to live in Dubh Caisleáin without their help or are we going to move back to that little hovel I found you in?”

As Aislin looked down, Scáith backed up, unable to look into the eyes of the Sorceress.

“Keeping all of the spirits and elementals bound in permanent servitude you mean, no, that was not something I would do.”

“But all of them? The Keep cannot run without their magic.”

Although the Prince had said all of them, that was not true. Besides the Prince, dozens of terrible spirits were bound to the very walls of Dubh Caisleáin. All of them sealed into stone forms; they would be the last defense before the Keep was overrun. Aislin didn’t know if she could use such creatures, but she wasn’t going to just release them back into the world.

“The Keep will be fine, but don’t be too concerned, not all of the elementals returned home. The Salamanders appear quite happy to remain.”

“Of course…lazy brutes, but what about me?” Scáith growled, looking into the eyes on his mistress. “You seem to have forgotten to release me from this so-called permanent servitude.”

Aislin laughed, not surprised that the beast didn’t care about the others, even the ones forced into stone. It only cared for its own release. “You, my dear Prince, are an exception.”

The creature curled up on the floor, annoyed. Every Thaumaturgist he had ever known bound the elementals after a summoning. Unbelievably Aislin had summoned two powerful water spirits from the swamp earlier in the day. Without the use of a circle, she forced her will upon them, asking them to drench the center of the castle with water. Afterward, she simply released them.

With the arrival of a female Gnome who entered the room unannounced, the Prince became even more confused.

“Your Majesty, how are these?” The small woman smiled, displaying to Aislin a small bouquet of summer flowers.

“Lovely, Garnet, do you think the others will mind if we add these to the other decorations?”

Scáith growled in surprise. “Why are you here? Didn’t she free you?”

The Gnome named Garnet gave the shadow creature a look, telling him exactly how she felt about him, and then turned away, setting the flowers in a vase.

“It’s my home, why would I want to leave?”

Smiling, she finished with the flowers before giving a small curtsy. “If there is nothing else your Majesty, I will attend to my other duties.”

The Sorceress smiled warmly. “Thank you, Garnet.”

Watching the Gnome vanish into the walls, Aislin said. “They still insist on calling me, your Majesty. All right, I am heading off to the library unless you need me for anything else.”

As the long days of summer passed, those who continue to dwell inside the black castle of Dubh Caisleáin could usually find Aislin floating high in the air, in the castle’s library.

Connected by dozens of archways with centuries of knowledge covering its high walls, scholars from all over the realm would have been beside themselves if they only knew such a library still existed.

From bronze tables from the earliest city-states to the scrolls from the Sorceress’ time to the books now written; all could be found inside. Even the hundreds of manuscripts of Amar, thought to have been lost during the siege that destroyed the great city-state, had been partially recovered.

To the shadow creature’s disgust, the new Sorceress appeared to be simply doing nothing but reading and creating a garden in the center of the castle.

Liadan never sat still, always meeting with this warlord or that captain. The only things Aislin spoke to were Gnomes and Sylphs, the foolish who choose to remain with the new Sorceress instead of being free. She appeared to be doing nothing; the shadow creature didn’t understand. For one with so much power, not to use it seemed wasteful.

Curling up against the cold floor, of all the things, had taken place since Aislin took control of the Keep, Scáith couldn’t understand why Gorgas remained. The powerful earth elemental, almost as powerful as himself, had been brought forth from the Spirit Realm to create Dubh Caisleáin.

“Why didn’t you leave?” He growled, like all of the other elementals and spirits in the Keep the powerful Gnome bond had been one of the first to be removed.

“Why I like my books.” The Gnome didn’t look up from scanning pages faster than any mortal creature.

“You’ve changed.” The shadow creature said in disgust.

The Gnome laughed. “You haven’t.”

Stepping away, Gorgas called up into the ceiling. “Your Majesty, I believe I have found the quatrains in question.”

From high in the air, Aislin slowly floated downwards to land next to the Gnomish Prince. “Don’t tell me we actually have a copy of the Quoins prophesies?”

“Indeed, look at this one and this one as well.”

“Interesting, that does answer a few questions, I think.”

“How does it answer any questions, Aislin. The human was obviously insane.”

Scáith remembered the old Black Sorceress speaking to her sister about the same shadow prophesies. From what he remembered the words were nothing more than gibberish. Then again, not surprising, many mortals who spent too much time delving into the Spirit Realm lost their minds.

Ignoring the beast, she continued. “Excellent Gorgas, I think we need to look at the writings of both the seers Degaru and Lyria as well.” Aislin stood, tapping a finger to her lips.

“More nonsense,” the shadow creature grumbled. What could studying the writing of two more mad Seers help any?

”Unfortunately, Gorgas, if you could find me the Dánmhara Book of Lies, I need to compare a few things.” Aislin hated the book; bound in human flesh; its contents gave a peek into the darker side of magic.

At that moment, three Sylphs appeared at Aislin’s side. The new Sorceress eyes blazed as she passed the half-asleep creature, before commanding. “Scáith to me.”

The shadow creature jumped up, startled, following Aislin out of the castle.

--0--

Elyria closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying the warmth of the sun, knowing that it would be for the last time. Answering a call from the Lord of their village, Verities of the Red, so-called Guardians of Truth had arrived in the village. Now standing in the hot sun, a dozen of them proselytized the evils of magic. Once they were finished with the ceremony, she would die.

As a young child, she told her mother that she had seen Sprites playing in the rye fields. Elyria could still remember the beating she got at the hands of her mother for saying such a thing, even if it had been true.

Since that incident, Elyria kept such sightings to herself. She gave no indication to anyone that she might possess the Black Curse, as it was called. Instead, Elyria became the perfect child of the village; blending in, not standing out.

Upon receiving the first blooms of womanhood, she felt the first touch of real power, and it appeared to be her last. Elyria and her best friend Heloise had been walking along the road, holding a bucket of milk in their hands. So intent on their discussion, they didn’t hear the horse and rider until it was too late. The Knight didn’t even stop as he rode over her friend.

As Heloise lay all broken, Elyria rushed to her side. Upon touching her friend, the young girl felt a rush of power. Witnesses spoke of a soft white glow covering both girls and that the wounds seemed to close by themselves. Although Heloise still had long months of healing ahead, her friend’s life had been saved, unfortunately, at the cost of her own.

Elyria looked over at her friend’s parents; they didn’t seem to enjoy the ceremony, nor did they join in the screaming and incriminations that the others had done, including her own mother. She didn’t mind if they had objected Heloise might also be joining her. Elyria wouldn’t want that.

Sitting in chains in the center of the town square, people she knew all her life, even some of her cousins had accused her of all sorts of evils to the Guardians. From the death of several infants, harvests, to even a broken plow, it had all been blamed on Elyria.

“At least it’s a beautiful day.” The young girl said to no one in particular but thought it odd that so many Sprites came to watch her last hours. “Perhaps when I die, I'll become a Sylph.”

According to her mother, she wouldn’t be welcomed in the halls of her father, so the idea brought a small amount of happiness.

As two of the red-robed Guardians dragged her to the post sitting in the center of the village, she began to shake. With the chains wrapped around her body, a senior member of the group with long white hair, known as a Justiciar, ordered the villagers to place the bundles of wood around her.

When Heloise’s parents dropped the last stack, Elyria managed to give them a brave smile, but her courage broke when her mother agreed to light the pyre. However, the flames never came.

Scáith had no idea where they were going, unhappy at having Aislin riding him as if he were a horse. At first, he thought they were going back to her grandmother, but Aislin only said it wasn’t time yet. Instead, the two of them flew south.

Once made of up three powerful kingdoms, the lands below them had broken up over the years. Now there were dozens of small baronies, kingdoms, and duchies.

As they continued to pass by small farms and villages, the creature could feel Aislin’s power behind him, moving him along the currents of the air quicker than possible. Suddenly, without saying anything, Aislin slipped off his back. Like a rock, she plummeted to the ground. Growling, the shadow creature banked and followed her down.

To Elyria, the world suddenly exploded. The wood, flames all of it suddenly vanished thrown high into the air, or into the faces of the villagers. As if a great wind picked them up, anyone who stood suddenly found themselves thrown to the ground.

The young girl looked up in wonder at a vision that would be with her for the rest of her life. A beautiful woman with midnight black hair, dressed in a gown of the same color, stood in the circle of destruction.

For a moment, Elyria felt afraid until the beautiful woman looked down at her and gave her a warm smile. Reaching over, Elyria felt the touch of power as the iron chains simply crumbled to dust. Before Elyria could ask the woman who she was, the Justiciar stood up, pulling a long-handled mace from his belt.

“How dare you interfere with the cleansing, who are you?”

Holding the young girl by the hand, Aislin stood up straight, daring the man to approach. Turning other guardians who were drawing weapons, she said. “The wild men of the south called me Bubhbá¡s. The sea warriors call me Crnviatica. Your fathers called me Noir Sorciare.”

Those villagers who were struggling to rise gasped at the name; however, the white-haired Justiciar laughed. “Preposterous, kill her, and the girl.” He commanded.

Suddenly, as if confirming her answer, a massive beast came out of the sky, the force of its wings turning over carts, scattering peoples an animals. It's challenging roar shattered any thoughts of attacking the one who named herself the Black Sorceress as everyone, including the Guardians fled for their lives.

Chapter 14

High Lord Judicar Alan of the Verities of the Red silently watched while his men searched the small home of a farmer and his family. Not that he expected anything to come of this particular search. These types of people were notoriously ignorant, however, according to the farmer, someone had slipped into their barn two nights ago and stolen his livestock.

For the last week, the Guardians under his command had been following the trail of a band of brigands. Typically, the local lord would be dealing with such trivial matters; however, these brigands had the audacity to attack not one but two Houses of Honor, killing over three dozen of their brethren. Such feats of villainy were not to be tolerated.

The Judicar believed those that stole the farmer’s livestock were also members of the same band of brigands. If so, why didn’t they take more of the farmer’s goods, odd that? Although this particular farmer had reported the theft, the Judicar knew that the sympathies of the other farmers in the region lay with the criminals.

Although he had questioned various people over the last week, even a few who were determined to be Trespassers of Truth, the Judicar still knew little about the band of brigands he followed.

Still, from what he had seen so far, he wasn’t too impressed. Like his superiors, the Judicar believed that the senior Guardians of both Houses had not been diligent enough with security. How else would a well-fortified House of Honor have been overcome?

In a real fight, as opposed to being murdered in their beds, Judicar Alan knew that even outnumbered his men would prevail. No, these brigands, these peasants, could never stand up to trained men who also had the shield of truth on their side.

“Guerrier Lyon, do these people know anything?”

His second in command looked back at the family then shrugged. “No, my lord, this man here claims that he and his family were asleep at the time. He only became aware of the theft in the morning. As soon as he discovered the missing livestock, he took his cart down to the local village to speak with their lord’s representative.”

The Judicar frowned; the village Elders had been unhelpful as well. Perhaps this entire area needed a Demonstration of Faith.

“I see, did he explain why these brigands didn’t take everything; much less murder them all in their beds?” A lone unprotected farm would be hard to resist for a band of thieves.

“I imagine my lord that the villains are aware that we are on their trail. If that’s the case, they have little choice but to move quickly.”

“Perhaps.” The Judicar nodded. The simplest explanation often was the correct one.

“Unless you think my Lord, that this man isn’t telling the truth. I can put him to more direct questioning if you wish.”

“I don’t believe that will be necessary. I see no further need for us to remain.” Judicar Alan looked around the farm in disgust. “Let us just gather our portion and depart.”

As the Guardians began to take livestock, food, and fodder from the farm, the family began to get upset. “Please, sir, not my plow horse. How will I be able to work my fields?”

“You seem to have a strong back, my good man.” The Judicar shrugged, it didn’t concern him.

Why didn’t these people understand that they were protecting them from the evils of the world and that this required them to take a fair portion from any farm or shop when needed. Too bad one of the pack horses took sick, but they would have to do with the nag this man claimed to be a plow horse anyway.

“But, sir!”

Before the farmer could say anything else, a mail fist driven into the side of his head by the second in command of the Guardians dropped him to the ground.

“Do not speak to our Officer Supérieur without permission again.” The Guardian then began to kick the downed man in the ribs.

Ignoring the wailing of the farmer’s wife and child, High Judicar Allen turned his horse towards the woods. He had spotted something suspicious moving among the treetops, as he opened his mouth in warning, it was already too late.

--0--

While a dozen men in green and brown leathers searched the bodies of the slain Guardians, the leader of their band approached the farm. With a smile on his face, he tossed a small leather bag of coins to the farmer.

“No need my Lord; these people took our Nanina away from us. They deserved it.” The farmer attempted to give back the bag, but the man shook his head.

“You keep it, friend. Make repairs on the farm or buy a new plow, whatever.” It had been a bad winter, and the small bag of coins which meant nothing to the Judicar would make the farmer and his family’s lives much better. “Plus, I’m no lord, the name’s Roderick, and I’m just a Cropper like yourself, good Yeoman stock. Also, every jack one of us has lost someone to these bastards so trust me, we understand.”

“Will you at least take supper with us?” The wife smiled.

“Aye, thank you, Mistress, we can do that but first let us bury the dead.”

After removing any traces of the battle from the farmer’s land, the entire group sat on the ground, behind the barn far away from the road.

As the farmer’s wife and her daughter began walking around filling small trenchers of bread full of stew, she said. “My cousin Hendrix told me you men rescued a couple of girls from the burning last week.”

The youngest of the group shrugged. “Wasn’t us.”

“There are more of you, then?” The farmer turned towards Roderick.

The man just nodded, his mouth full of food. The weapons they gathered today and the rest of the coin would go to the other groups. Even some of the local lords, who had enough of the Guardians telling them what to do, had started to support them secretly. Since the Black Sorceress’ return, the Guardians were close to having a full-scale rebellion on their hands.

“You don’t hear a lot about it.” The farmer said.

“Them bloody red robes don’t want people to know, gives them ideas.” Another man laughed.

“Was it the Sorceress?” The young daughter of the farmer, who had been passing out small bits of bread to the men, asked.

“Could be, little lady. My cousin Loretta once saw her flying on that big cat of hers.”

“I thought you said it was a dragon.” Another man commented.

“Did your cousin really see her?” The girl asked in wonder.

“Naww, don’t believe him, lass. His cousin Loretta tends to stretch the truth a bit.”

“She might at that, but this time I trust her word. It was right after those towers were destroyed last month, the ones near the Old Forest. They say that the Sorceress brought them down with her magic.”

“Maybe it was the dragon.” The girl said excitedly, half jumping up and down.

“I heard it was a cat, could be a dragon though, wasn’t there. Them bloody red robes sure knew how to run, though.”

“You would be too, Stephen.” Roderick laughed.

“She wouldn’t hurt you, she’s nice.” The little girl admonished the man.

“My Gran said the Sorceress has a black heart and drinks blood.” Another one of the men spoke slowly, with a half-smile on his face.

The little girl looked shocked, then angry.

The oldest of the group, a large man who had the appearance of a smith by trade, said. “Leave her alone, Travis. His Gran, she’s from up north; you know how they feel about the Sorceress up there.”

“Not rightly proper; that’s how we got stuck in this messy business in the first place. Them bloody red robes coming down here during my grandpappy's time.” An older man grumbled.

“I heard that some of the old songs are now being sung in the taverns again. Not just the ones about the Sorceress but also about her exalted captains as well. ”

“Did you know some of the lands south of here still hold feast days in their honor?” The man called Travis said while starting to take apart the stale bread that made up the trencher, tossing bits into his mouth.

The farmer’s wife smiled, setting her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “A feast day would be lovely, Richard. I’d love to dance with you again. We haven’t had a real one since….”

The farmer nodded, holding his wife’s hand. “I’d like to help you boys more if I can.”

Roderick looked up at the wife and saw the fear in her eyes. Although the ambush today had been perfect, their other attacks had not gone without loss.

“Well, we can always use help, but not what you think. We can handle the fighting, but we still could use help now and then from good people like yourself.”

The wife looked relieved as the farmer thought for a second, then nodded. “What do you have in mind?”

--0--

King Conall and his council stood over the large map of the realm. For the last three days, they had been sequestered in the room, discussing the plans for the upcoming campaign season against the Kingdom of Dál Riata.

Last year’s fight had ended early because of torrential rains, leaving both sides with little gains. Only the mercenary companies employed by both Kingdoms who were paid for a full season, whether they fought or not, came out ahead.

Prince Burin leaned forward, taking a better look at the map. “Your plan has merit, Uncle, although I do have one concern.”

Duke Blathmac sighed before taking a long drink from the golden goblet next to him. “Aye, the rebellion in the southern lands.”

Although the fighting taking place since the end of winter had not been near the Kingdom’s borders, the Duke still found it necessary to move a couple of regiments of foot and horse to fortify the border towns. Such rebellions had the tendency to spread.

Hopefully, the regiments would keep the conflict from crossing the border. Everyone noted that although their kingdom had not gotten involved with actual fighting, it had already taken away resources, as those troops would not be available for the upcoming campaign season.

“I thought they were all unarmed farmers down south?” The youngest of the group, made Count when his father passed away over the winter, questioned the group.

Count Valan of the House of Ciannacht, a big red-bearded giant of a man who ruled lands in the northern part of the Kingdom, roared with laughter. “Laddie, one of them unarmed farmers could put a feather through your eye from over hundred paces with those Willow Wands of theirs.”

All around the table, the other men laughed good naturally at the young man’s confusion.

“It’s their bows, Albert, white wood, tall as a man and deadly.” Prince Burin explained to his friend.

“Are they truly that accurate?”

“My senior huntsman was born in the Barony of Capcir, and I have seen him drop a deer at that range.” Duke Blathmac, the King’s brother, finished his wine with one last gulp.

King Conall waved his hand. “Indeed, and that is where the fighting has begun. You’re correct, Albert, the eastern lands, where the Guardians have complete control even over the nobles, the farmers are treated as nothing more than slaves. No, it’s the lands west of the Ranz River that the Verities pushed their so-called truth into in the last decade or so, that's where the trouble has started.”

“Besides the bands of Yeomen making life difficult for them arrogant bastards, the actual fighting began when Duchess Cryda disposed of Count Jowan last week. No loss, he was a particularly unpleasant individual, however; somehow she has managed to convince King Holzen and his allies to move troops north to support her husband’s attack on the city of Kerlin.”

The City of Kerlin, which sat astride the Ranz River, had been the Guardians of Truth western capital in Count Jownan’s former lands. With its fall, those who opposed them would dominate the entire west.

“I doubt that Richard is supporting them without asking for something in return.” King Conall sat down on his chair, putting his fingers to his lips.

“You think Kerlin could be his reward for pushing the Guardians out of the west?” Prince Burin turned to his father.

“That would be my guess, your Highness.” Count Valan pointed to the series of rivers running through the Kingdom of Holzen. “He would gain quite a bit of taxes for taking that one city alone.”

“The question is; will they be happy with pushing the Guardians back over the Ranz, or continue east? We could be looking at years of fighting ahead. Fighting that could easily encompass all of the lands in the south."

“I agree, Duchess Cryda has no love for the Guardians who took advantage of her father when he was ill, essentially taking control of the Duchy.”

“So the fighting does appear to be spreading.” Count Albert scratched his chin. “Your Majesty is this King Richard strong enough to unite all of the western lands under his banner.”

All of the older men gave the young Count an approving look. Most of them had already determined that some of the more powerful kingdoms or Duchies would take advantage of the rebellion and consolidate their holdings.

“And to think this all started with some rumor about the Black Sorceress returning.”

“You’re laughing, Valan, but that’s what caused these problems in the first place.” Duke Blathmac pointed his middle finger at him.

“Your Grace, I doubt that they needed the villain of a children’s story to rebel against the Guardians. Duchess Elvira should have known better before inviting that group onto her lands sixty years ago.”

King Conall nodded. “I agree, they have pushed too many people, too far with their ideas and now they are paying the price. Frankly, my great uncle should have hung the lot of them instead of throwing them out of the kingdom.”

At that moment, Princess Cordelia entered the room, followed by several servants. As they quickly filled the men’s drinks and replaced the trays of food she moved quickly to her husband’s side.

“Greetings, my beautiful wife.” Prince Burin gave the Princess a broad smile until he noticed the cup in her hands.

“I do apologize to your Majesty for interrupting your meeting, but I believe my good husband forgot to take this elixir during our morning meal.”

With great care, she took a small silver goblet and set it in front of her husband. The Prince had come down with a lung fever during the winter months, and only recently had started to feel better. He had thought because of that, he could quit taking the foul-tasting medicine.

King Conall let out a small laugh. “I am surprised that my wife isn’t here with you, Cordelia.”

The young Princess gave a warm smile. “She sends her love and a reminder about tonight, your Majesty. “

The King, like all good husbands, took the hint. “You are correct, of course; gentleman perhaps we should stop for the evening. I am sure you are aware of the special feast we will be held tonight to honor the return of the goddess of spring.”

Throughout the kingdom, the Blaanid feast would take place at sundown. In most homes, small cakes soaked in honey would be the special treat for the night. In the Court of King Conall, the festivities would be quite a bit larger.

As Princess Cordelia watched her husband empty the silver cup, she noticed the strange visitors sitting in the window. Like many women in her family, she had a touch of the sight.

It didn’t manifest very often. As a young child, she sometimes would see elementals playing in the rivers and woods. So upon discovering three Sylphs sitting on the windowsill right outside the room, all she did was smile.

--0--

Aislin sat in the center of the garden as the first rays of the spring sun broke through the trees high above the swamp. Most of her new guests had celebrated the feast of Blaanid long into the night. Right now, she sat alone, even the elementals giving her peace.

Since becoming the mistress of Dubh Caisleáin, Aislin had hardly stopped working. She had quickly come to realize that the gift of knowledge bestowed upon her by her ‘Aunt’ did not mean she could stop learning either.

The darkness was coming. That fact was inevitable however the when and the how remained a mystery. She had found clues in the writings of several Seers, all who went mad because of that darkness.

Looking down at the pool, which sat in the center of the garden, Aislin gave a sad smile. She had another reason for working so hard; it was to forget what she left behind.

With a wave of her hand, the pool became like a mirror, but it did not show her reflection. Instead, the Sorceress watched, as Macha prepared for the day ahead. Stopping herself from touching the smooth surface, Aislin clutched her chest instead.

With a single tear running down her face, she whispered. “Soon, my love.

Chapter 15

Judicar Laoch, a tall, handsome, fair-haired young commander who had risen quickly through the ranks of the Verities of the Red, groaned as he slowly pulled himself off his cot.

Rubbing his face, he thought it strange that he didn’t remember going to bed the night before. His last memory was having a meal with the three other Judicars and High Lord Judicar Fearg, who commanded the regiment.

Looking about, he realized something was terribly wrong. Everything in his tent had been removed. Tables, chairs, maps, his personal chest, and even his armor, had disappeared. As much as one might find it amusing, such jokes didn’t help with keeping order in the ranks. Shaking his head at the childishness of it all, the young man stepped out of the tent to confront whoever came up with the prank, only to find the ruins deserted.

“By the gods of battle.” He stopped his tirade as he suddenly noticed a young woman standing over a campfire. With her long black hair and flowing gown of the same color, she was a thing of beauty. Drawing closer, he could hear her singing happily, as she stirred a large pot, every so often tasting the contents.

Looking up from her labors, she gave him a beautiful smile. “Good morning Laoch, would you care to join me for some breakfast?”

Numbly he nodded, her steel-blue eyes drawing him in closer. Unable to help himself, he took a seat on a large log in front of the campfire. After being handed a wooden spoon and a bowl of what appeared to be some porridge mixed with dried fruit, the young man looked up at her a little confused. Who was she, and how did she know his name?

“A new friend of mine suggest mixing ground Milis nuts into the porridge, I hope you like the flavor.” She continued to stir the pot, humming the tune of the song she sang only moments before.

At first, he thought the strange woman might want to poison him but decided he would be dead already if that had been her intent. Hesitantly the young commander took a bite, then another. Delicious.

“Can you answer some questions?”

“Eat first, and then we will talk.” She said, putting servings of porridge into her own bowl before sitting down in front of him.

The two sat quietly, enjoying the warmth of the fire as they ate. With the pot empty, he realized that the woman only finished one bowl while he had four.

“If we fed our men like this every breakfast, I wouldn't have had problems getting new recruits.” Laoch laughed, feeling a little better about the situation.

The woman didn’t laugh but did give the Judicar a smile for the compliment.

“You have questions?”

“What happened?”

”You were poisoned two nights ago.”

“What.” He rose from his seat, then reluctantly sat back down. “I don’t understand. The last thing I remember was sharing a meal with High Lord Judicar Fearg and other officers in the regiment. He was upset about not finding the Black Sorceress’ castle, but he wouldn't poison us because of his own failings. Unless we were all poisoned?”

Although the young man wouldn't have admitted it to anyone else, the decision to enter the Old Forest to put an end once and for all to the Black Sorceress had been poorly planned, and a waste of time and resources. After marching the entire regiment through the woods for a week, only to find moss-covered ruins, seemed to confirm that belief.

“No, I’m afraid only you. Once the poison took effect, your fellow Judicars dumped you in your bed, informing your men that you had too much to drink. The next morning, they were ordered to pack up your belongings and depart.”

“I don’t understand, why didn’t they wake me up?”

“Because from what they could tell, you were dead. Of course, some of your men didn’t appear to be particularly pleased about the turn of events. They wanted to have a funeral in your honor, but High Lord Judicar Fearg commanded everyone to leave you in your tent to rot.”

“Why would he do that?” How odd, he thought to himself. The Verities hated to waste equipment; the next commander would have need of the tent if nothing else.

The beautiful woman smiled. “Well, that’s my fault. I manipulated his actions a little bit, as I didn’t want them to move you. Since you were in no danger of dying, as I healed you earlier, I thought it would be more comfortable for you, if you slept on the cot than in the ground.”

Laoch shot up off the long, grabbing his side but found his sword missing. With another sigh, he sat back, noticing the amusement in the woman’s beautiful eyes.

“You’re her aren't you, the Black Sorceress.”

“So I have been called, but you can call me Aislin. Can I ask you a question?”

The young man shrugged. “I’m not sure why you bothered to save my life, but I am grateful, so I’ll answer what I can up to a point.”

Laoch found himself smiling as the Sorceress gave a small laugh. “Trust me. I won’t force you to tell me anything you don’t want me to know. So, why did you join the Verities?”

Judicar Laoch sat back startled at her sudden change of demeanor, from playful to serious in the span of a second. He also realized that this woman had not saved him without reason, but oddly enough, he wanted to trust her.

“My sister, she was burned by a rogue Thaumaturgist and died from her injuries soon after.” He said bitterly remembering the sweet young girl who died covered in bandages.

“Not exactly unknown, right, she also happened to be your sister’s best friend. No, it was nothing more than an unfortunate accident, a true tragedy for both families.”

Laoch looked at the Sorceress in shock. “Then she should have stayed away from Illia. Those people are cursed; evil...they...all should be...” Suddenly he stopped realizing who he was talking to. However, the Black Sorceress didn’t appear to be angry. Instead, she looked sad.

“Did you know that your sister was trying to help her friend control her powers? That’s when the accident occurred. Illia didn’t want to see her best friend sent away, or worse, burned to death. Of course, if she had been given proper training instead of having to hide it from her parents, then both their deaths might have been avoided.”

The young man looked down at the ground, unable to speak. The Sorceress couldn't have known what happened, but why did it sound like the truth.

“Your sister did keep asking for her best friend right up until the end.”

The young man nodded.

“How did your sister die, Laoch? Surrounded by friends and family, given a draught of the Codladh and Adh flowers so she wouldn't feel any pain, right? And the child Briget? Heartbroken for harming her friend, terrified and in terrible agony right up to the very last moment before the fire claimed her life. Did you know that because she had an affinity for fire, it took longer for the poor girl to die? If she had been fully trained, she could have walked through it unharmed; instead, her ability only prolonged the agony.”

Judicar Laoch continued to look at the ground, unable to meet the Sorceress' eyes.

“You loved Bridget as well, didn’t you? And she betrayed that love by killing your sister.”

Laoch slid off the log, wrapping his hands around his head. He had just come of age when they first met, only a few years older than her; he had instantly fallen in love. Laoch could still remember Bridget’s laugh, her smile, her gentle touch, and her death still haunted his dreams. Wiping hot tears from his face, the young commander looked up at the Black Sorceress.

“What does this have to do with my sister’s death?”

“Everything, they recruited you even before the coals of Bridget’s pyre cooled. You wore the blood-red Tabard of the Guardians at your sister’s funeral, did you not? However, what happened when you organized your first burning?”

“I had to walk away.”

“Yes, you did. If fact, you have made sure not to be involved with any more burnings. Your command always seemed to be involved with something else when such things were needed. So much so, that many other Judicars transferred men to you who were reluctant as well.”

“Just because I wouldn't let my command be involved doesn't mean I don’t believe in what the Verities are trying to do?”

“So tell me, what were they trying to do with your little Demonstrations of Faith? Pillage a town, burn a home or two; perhaps hold down a farmer so he can watch as a troop of Guerrier take turns raping his wife. All for what? To put fear into the hearts of the people, so they won’t object when the Verities enter a village to murder their sons and daughters.”

“I never involved my men in those demonstrations.” The young man answered angrily.

“I know, or we wouldn't be having this conversation.” The Black Sorceress gave him a hard look before it softened. “Laoch, the Verities cannot afford, especially now with the rebellion in the west, for a young popular commander to appear as if he was questioning their authority. Now, you’re just another pitiful soldier who drank himself to death.”

“So, now what?” Laoch asked tiredly. “You didn’t kill off an entire regiment of Guerrier to talk to me.”

“I did no such thing. Although they trespassed into my lands, I have not harmed them in any way. In fact, your regiment is currently walking around in circles. Eventually, they will find their way out of the forest.”

Laoch got off the ground, laughing, brushing himself off. He looked around the campsite. “Thank you for keeping me safe, Aislin, and feeding me, of course, but why did you save my life?”

“Would you believe it because it was the right thing to do?”

“No.”

Aislin laughed. “Good man, but I would have done it anyway. Well, it appears you have two choices.” With a wave of a hand, the forest parted.

“Down that path lies refugees, mostly farmers and their families, many who recently fled their homes because of the last Demonstration of Faith. They all have a desire to fight and refuse to sit and do nothing. Unfortunately, there isn't a real warrior among them. So what do you think will happen when they try and fight a troop of your Guerrier?”

The young commander nodded, knowing exactly what would happen. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Lead them, train them, be their strength when things get bad and trust me it will. Encourage them to move forward to take back their lives from those who wish to take it from them. More of them will flock to your banner; if you’re successful, trust me, you won’t be alone for long. Although if you do agree to take that path, some of your men who also share your views might just find themselves joining you.”

“And my other choice?”

Aislin waved her hand, revealing another path. “Go back to your regiment. They will be surprised, of course, to see you alive, especially your commander. However, they probably won’t do anything until you make your way out of the forest. Or perhaps, I have been lying, and this is all a misunderstanding, and they will happily welcome you back into their ranks.”

It wasn’t much of a choice really, as the young man started to walk towards the forest opening he stopped, “What about you?”

The Sorceress looked surprised. “What about me?”

“Will you join me?”

Aislin laughed. “As much as I appreciate the offer, that is your path to take; I have my own.”

“You seem different in person than the stories.”

“So I have been told. Don’t worry, Laoch; we will meet again. Oh, I did tell you one little untruth. High Lord Judicar Fearg, he will not be leaving this forest alive.”

The former Judicar just smiled, and with a wave headed down the forest path, his thoughts already working on how to turn farmers into soldiers.

--0--

High above dark clouds filled the night’s sky as small flashes of light spoke of heavy rains in the near future. On the rolling hills below the billowing sky, the main army encampment of King Conall buzzed with activity.

The encampment itself looked like a small city, even with separate quarters. The Nobles and their tents were placed in the center, protected from all sides. Surrounding them were the camps of the different regiments of foot and horse, with most of the men sleeping under the open sky, rain or not.

Intermixed within the soldier's camps stood the tents of smiths, armorers, and wheelwrights; anyone who supported the army on the march. Just outside the camp followers and others who joined the army on the march, including merchant wagons, filled with goods, drink, and women made available to those who had the coin.

Those with the gift usually found a place within the encampment as well, including the white healer’s tents. Protected by royal guards, they stood somewhat by themselves away from the regimental camps.

Court Baroness Ráisán, followed by six other Court Healers and their apprentices, talked among themselves as they walked away from the large tents of the King’s Healers. For most of the afternoon and well into the evening, the small group of powerful women had attempted to coordinate some order out the madness that occurred during every campaign.

Although King’s Healers possessed substantial power when it came to dealing with the sick or injured, it did not allow them to command healers hired by different regiments, much less the Court Healers brought on campaign by the Noble houses.

By the end of the evening, not a lot had been accomplished other than Baroness Ráisán, well-liked among the King’s Healers, who promised that her people, the Wisewomen who joined their village men on the march would assist the King’s Healers when possible.

“No matter what we do, people are going to die because there are never enough of us. “ Lady Shayla complained to her fellow Council members.

All understood that because of dwindling supplies and worn out healers, taking care of the sick and injured as the campaign continued would become increasingly difficult.

“Even if half of the so-called regimental healers agreed to work in the sick tents, it would help.”

“Only if we paid them first.” Lady Felecia, the youngest of the group, gave a mirthless laugh. “And of those Eadrom, how many of them possess any real ability?”

One of the responsibilities of the King’s Healers was to ferret out the charlatans as if they didn’t already have a dozen things better to do.

Court Baroness Ráisán turned to her group. “No matter how much we complain, remember some of the blame lies with us as well. How many of you, because of your oaths, are restricted from assisting other households?”

The six women looked her; some just nodding while others looked ashamed.

“I have been on campaign many times, my dear sisters; trust me, this will only get worse. Please, go back to your tents and get as much rest as you can, we have a long day ahead of us.”

--0--

“Good evening to you, Baroness Ráisán.” An unfamiliar voice said from behind.

Ráisán sat up from her desk, remembering that earlier she had been taking notes from a book on herbs of the southern lands. Apparently, she must have fallen asleep, but who had entered her tent unannounced, and where was her granddaughter Nikkei?

Turning around to get a better view of the intruder, for a brief moment, the Baroness thought she had seen a ghost. Suddenly the old woman stood up, crossed the tent before starting to curtsey before the raven-haired beauty dressed all in black.

“You’re-”

The young woman stopped her with a smile. “Please, just call me Aislin.”

“Aislin” She mouthed the words for a moment as if confused then quickly said. “Then I insist you call me Ráisán.”

The Baroness nervously motioned her guest towards a couple of camp chairs. Moving to the other side of the tent, she looked back, still not quite believing her own eyes.

As she placed a silver tray down on the table in front of them, Ráisán said. “I hope you don’t mind the tea might be a little cold.”

“Thank you; this is lovely,” Aislin said.

After reaching for her cup, Ráisán took a small sip of the black tea, trying to steady her nerves before placing it back on the table. “Before you explain to me why you are here, or how, for that matter, Aislin, I would like to apologize for how the Council of Elders treated you.”

For all of her life, Aislin assumed it was because she was a boy, she knew better now. “The reason they refused to see me was because of my father.”

“Yes, but it shouldn’t have mattered,” the old healer growled. “All of us, not just us healers, are barely tolerated, but those women were more concerned with their positions than the need to protect one of their own. We did a great disservice to you, Aislin and for that, I am deeply ashamed.”

Aislin gave the old woman a gentle smile. “I bear the Council no ill will, Ráisán. In fact, Macha and Ina told me that you, among a few others spoke up for me, for that I am grateful.”

The Court Healer looked relieved. “Even with all that has happened, your grandmother is still my friend.’ She paused for a moment, looking at the young woman sitting in front of her. “You look so much like her. It’s uncanny, but your relationship to her is not why you’re here is it?”

“No.”

Ráisán gave a satisfied smile, in one motion, came out of her seat, and curtsied all the way to the ground. “Command me, Máithair.”

“Ráisán,” Aislin whispered, looking down at the older woman in surprise.

The Baroness looked up at Aislin. “We, the Council of Elders, remember our heritage. Have you wondered why there is always an empty seat within the Council? So please, Máthair, how may this old woman help you.”

The two women looked at one another, then Ráisán started to laugh. “It appears that I am stuck, these old bones of mine are not quite fit enough to do this sort of thing.”

As Aislin reached down to help Macha’s grandmother stand, the Court Healer gave a small gasp, the pain that had been chronic in her knees and back had vanished.

Taking a seat, she said in wonder. “You are her, aren’t you? I knew you must be.”

Although Aislin knew of the meeting, she stayed silent as Ráisán explained that Ina and Macha had been summoned to speak to the Council of Elders. How the two women were questioned about the strange plague that had struck Lord Kelvin’s lands and why did the two of them involve Aislin.

Some of the members of the Council had planned to punish Ina for allowing Aislin to pretend to be a healer. However, that quickly ended when she, a former Elder herself, explained that Aislin had the ability, even if some members of the Council refused to believe it.

Only through her potent healing ability, did the illness not spread to the rest of the Kingdom. Ina insisted that neither she or her apprentice had been able to heal those ill, nor would the Council be able to find someone, even a King’s Healer, with that ability.

Aislin could see the pride in the Baroness’ eyes as she explained how her granddaughter stood in front of the Council, passionately telling them how Aislin, garbed as a King’s Healer, as was her right, removed not an illness but a curse that had struck Lord Kelvin’s land. How in the end, when young girls started to disappear, it was Aislin who traveled into the forest by herself to put a stop it.

“Macha’s still angry with you for not taking her along.”

Aislin nodded sadly. “I know.”

“I will tell you, Máithair, those who acted against you no longer sit on the Council. Especially when rumors of the Sorceress’ return suddenly came out of the south. Although Macha refused to talk about it, I was certain that person was you.”

“Perhaps Ráisán, when we can all sit down together, I will tell you the whole story.”

The Baroness gave Aislin a warm smile. “I look forward to it. Now some of these rumors seem quite fanciful. We didn’t quite know what to believe.”

The Sorceress' cheeks colored a little as she explained. “Well, I’m not saying that they aren’t true, but they have overstated my ability quite a bit in the storytelling.”

“I’m sure; the old storytellers tended to embellish those tales as well.”

Aislin only smiled.

“I also hear that you have rescued a fair number of young girls from a terrible fate.”

“That at least is true and also happens to be one of the things I needed to speak to you about. Currently, they reside with me, although I have rescued several young men as well.”

“How may the Council help you, Máthair? Do you wish to send them to villages in the north as apprentices?”

Aislin shook her head sadly. “Normally, I would say yes, but not with the girls currently under my care. They have been through a terrible ordeal, Ráisán. Many of them betrayed by people they thought loved them. No, they need some healing so for now, I am happy to have them remain in my home.” She then smiled. “However, as you surmised, I am going to need help as I plan to have many others join me.”

Ráisán gave a small laugh. “What are you planning on doing, start a University?”

“Yes, something like that.”

In the last decade, throughout the kingdom, small centers of learning, Universities, had appeared. Mostly young men, lesser nobles, and young merchants entered to learn such subjects as languages, history, and mathematics.

The Baroness looked shocked for a moment, before smiling broadly as the Sorceress told of her plans long into the night.

Chapter 16

In the predawn hours, two senior foresters approached Lord Kelvin’s castle, all in a panic claiming they had stumbled upon a large encampment of cavalry. Since the first stones were laid down for Lisheen Castle, the lords always had woodsmen in the forest during the campaign season. Although highly unlikely, troops could pass through the Wyre Forest to attack the Keep and surrounding villages.

Sir Nevan thanked the gods for their foresight, as he rode down a line of local levies, shouting for the men to form up. With Miles and his father on campaign with the King, the safety of the castle and the surrounding villagers were his responsibility. The warning of the impending attack had hopefully given the surrounding villagers enough time to reach the security of the castle. If not, then he would buy them that time.

“Sergeant Owen, has everyone made it safely into the castle?”

The sergeant, an old grizzly veteran of the Wars of Succession that took place twenty years ago, looked up as the lord’s son approached. For the better half of the morning, he had been gathering men from different villages together for the defense of the castle and the surrounding lands.

“My Lord, the villages from Wyre and Stonebrook have almost made it to the safety of the Keep. Whiteflow and Ullord villagers are still coming in; the others have not reported in as of yet.”

“All right, thank you, Sergeant, go ahead and move the rest of these men to the orchards.”

While watching the militia depart, made up mostly of old men and boys, Sir Nevan knew there was little chance he would be able to stop an attack. He was under no illusion that by the end of the day, most of these men and most likely himself would lie dead on the field. However, he needed to try to slow down the attackers.

With a shake of his head, he turned his warhorse around, riding off with a group of mounted armsmen towards the edge of the forest.

“By the gods of battle, girl, you sure picked a terrible time to disappear.”

Not for the first time, his mind wandered towards the missing King’s Healer, although truthfully, he missed more than her healing skills. Without a word, she had vanished after saving so many on his father’s lands.

Moreover, the way she handled herself during that time of crisis, Sir Nevan knew that Aislin would have made a formidable Lady of Lisheen. But beyond that, her disappearance had left a hole in his heart. However, the story of her going into the woods to track down the person or persons who abducted the young girls was absurd. No, Aislin’s disappearance reeked of court politics.

Neither Macha nor Aislin’s grandmother was more forthcoming about where Aislin went, either. Sir Miles believed she fled to another part of the Kingdom due to Sir Nevan’s father’s return. But why, he would have protected her. Sir Miles had planned to follow Aislin, but Sir Nevan talked him out of it.

Even more mysterious, Aislin’s grandmother had an audience with his father the next morning on his return. From the way his parents reacted, Sir Nevan immediately understood that Ina was more than a simple village Wisewoman, perhaps even more than a Court Healer.

Macha, too, wasn’t exactly who she appeared to be. The daughter of a Knight, she should have been apprenticed to a Court Healer living in a castle, not some village.

Unfortunately, they both had departed with his father, summoned to the Council of Elders. Although other village Wisewoman heading towards the castle, he knew the powers of those three women, in particular, would be sorely missed.

Joining the line of battle that had formed across from the forest, the young Knight road up towards another group of mounted men. “Any word from our scouts, Constable Sinclair?”

Before the older Knight could answer, a group of scouts came riding out of the woods, one taking to horse riding straight towards Sir Nevan and his command.

--0--

Angry and more than a little concerned, King Conall dismounted from his warhorse after riding through the army camp of the north. Due to the size of the King’s forces, the troops moved across the land in three large formations. While leading the center force, King Conall received news of an attack on the northern wing, commanded by Count Valan.

From what could be determined, an unknown number of riders came out of the eastern woods, striking quickly, burning merchant wagons and getting in among some of the regimental tents. It had been a well thought out raid. The attackers had simply ridden in, caused as much confusion as necessary, and then ride out.

“Nice and neat, light horse, most likely, your Majesty.” The Senior Knight of the Kings escort commented as the group moved towards the command tents.

“And look at the bloody confusion it’s caused, it’s going to slow us down.” King Conall growled. How had King Llwynog moved his forces to the other side of the Fomar Hills already and through the Sable Woods no less?

“Woman, that hurt!” A bear-like voice growled from inside one of the tents.

“Sit still you big baby; you’ll open your wound again; serves you right for not wearing a helmet.”

“Gods girl, you sound like your mother.”

Stepping inside the command tent, the King found the Count’s niece, a small redheaded girl dressed in the colors of a King’s Healer, standing over her uncle cleaning what appeared to be a head wound.

The Count pushed the King’s healer away, who looked at him unhappily before collecting her things. Greeting the King with a smile and a curtsey, she departed from the tent.

“Feel sorry for her betrothed; the girl’s going to be a handful I’ll tell you that.” The Count said with pride.

“Alright, Valan, what happened here?”

Waving his hand unhappily, the Count motioned the King to a large chair. “Bloody winged lancers, a full regiment at least.” The famed horsemen, who rode with large feathered banners on their back, were known as the best light horse in the realm.

“Attacked us a little after dawn, right out of the woods; at least they didn’t do too much damage mostly burning merchant wagons. Still, it’s going to take at least a day to sort it all out.

“And?” the King pointed to the Count’s head wound.

The Count frowned. “I was having a bit of breakfast with Baron Torthgar; wasn’t exactly dressed for battle.”

“No stockade, your Excellency?” Sir Malcolm asked.

“My bleeding fault.” The Count sighed. “We marched in late into the night, didn’t have time to set the camp right. Still, we are on the other side of the Dearg River; they must have at least a week’s march on us.”

“Two maybe three weeks, I would say.” Another voice added as Duke Blathmac entered the tent.

“What are you doing here?” King Conall asked his brother.

“I had news to tell you, but you had already left.” The Duke walked over and poured himself a drink before sitting down. “King Llwynog’s been a busy man; from what I just discovered, his troops were already making camp around Coedwig at the start of winter.”

The fortress of Coedwig stood at what was known as the Gairdán valley, a strip of fertile land separating the two Kingdoms. Because of the heavy woods of the Wyre Forest and the rough hills and mountainous terrain to the north, the valley had often been the path which both Kingdoms’ armies took every year.

“Worst, Dun Láiidir is already besieged.” Like their neighbors, the Kingdom of Airthir had a fortified keep, one of the old Black Sorceress fortresses, on their side of the valley.

At the news, the King started to rub his head unhappily. The carefully planned campaign he and his council worked on over the long winter was already in ruins.

Duke Blathmac nodded, throwing a small list of towns and villages on the table. “Except for this attack on the camp, your royal cousin seems only interested in raiding towns and villages near Dun Láiidir. The bulk of his forces now sits at the edge of the Gairdán valley.”

“He has to deal with Dun Láiidir first, can’t leave it in his rear.” The count stood up and went to be back of the tent, returning with a large map. “Maybe he intends to settle this with one large battle, even so, our troop numbers should be about the same.”

King Conall looked over the map taking notice of the location where the two armies would be fighting.

“True, but he is also working hard on stripping this army of those much-needed men. Llwynog is well aware that we will have to leave forces behind to protect our rear if nothing else those Sciatháiin Lancers are still out there.”

“Aye, although with us knowing those blasted Lancers are on the prowl, we can make their lives difficult. From what my scouts tell me, they appear to be returning to the main army.”

“Perhaps, but we can’t risk it. We cannot afford them to be running around in our rear.” King Conall said, reaching for a quill to make a list of regiments of horse and foot, which would return north to protect the army’s line of march.

“Looking at the report, your Grace, I don’t see that they attacked too many villages near the Wyre forest.” Count Valan said. “I would have thought with those Lancers marching through the Sable Woods; King Llwynog would have sent troops through them.”

Although highly unlikely, the woods being too heavy for most cavalry, at best, any cavalry would be walking their horses through the thick underbrush.

“I’m afraid they did. A rider came from Lord Kelvin’s lands early this morning. It appears that Prince Rupert managed to make his way through the Wyre Forest with a couple of regiments of horse.”

Both men looked up startled and a little concerned. The nephew of the king, Rupert, was considered one of the best cavalry commanders on either side. Such a force would create havoc in those fertile lands.

“So, what happened?”

“He and his entire command just vanished; they never came out of the woods.”

The Duke told of the events that took place on Lord Kelvin’s lands two days ago. The other men were about to ask the validity of the report until the Duke continued. “Even stranger, we received news this morning that Llwynog redeployed his entire army away from those same woods.”

“Why would he do that? The Prince is most likely just lost; he will turn up eventually.”

“I’m not too sure about that, your Majesty.” Count Valan looked nervously around the room. “You know those rumors of the Black Sorceress’ return?”

King Conall looked at the Count in surprise. He had been one to first speak out, saying the rumors were nothing more than fanciful children tales.

“Sir Malcolm, can you ask the guards to summon Cailtram, son of Girom.”

Moments later, the heavily armored Earl, a tall young man, blonde hair typical of the ancient warrior people called the Kareivis entered the tent.

Greeting the other men of the room, he spoke with a thick accented of a northerner. “You have need of me, Valan.”

“Yes, Cailtram, I have been told that your people also have rumors of the Black Sorceress’ return.”

The war leader of the Kareivis tried not the make a face at the question. The two people had entirely different opinions on the ancient Sorceress. Even after the sorceress fell, his people continue to follow her banner.

Far to the south, she was remembered only as a great conqueror. North of the Old Forest, the sorceress, was considered an evil influence on the world. Something that the great Kings of old had to destroy. However, in the cold lands of the far north, the Kareivis, and the people who walked among the clouds called the Auksta, she was known as Laimigs the Blessed One.

“No, not rumors. The Rune Singers have spoken of the return of the Laimigs. She has been seen in the shape of a great bird, calling the Burvju to her once more.”

The other men in the room shifted uncomfortably. Duke Blathmac asked. “The Burvju? I haven’t heard that name before.”

The Earl almost laughed. These weak southerners knew nothing. No wonder his ancestor's war upon them. In Cailtram grandfather’s time, the last battle took place with Kareivis defeating an army twice its size. With that victory, they earned back much of the land they lost in previous wars. Now an uneasy alliance existed between the two peoples.

“Those who have the Dovana, the gift, take a journey when they come of age to a sacred place among the mountains and to sit and wait for her calling. Those who are fated to become Burvju do not return.”

King Cullum frowned. From what his grandfather had once told him, the Kareivis tied the young people to a boulder high in the mountains as a sacrifice to their dark goddess.

Whatever his opinion on their religious practices, as a King, he understood that they needed to be careful with his words. For the upcoming campaign to be successful, they would need their strength.

Earl Cailtram and his people were a proud folk, valuing family and clan honor above all things. The Kareivis were also some of the best foot troops in the realm. With their shield walls and runic weapons, they could take down a heavily armored knight with a single swing.

“What about those who do return?” The Duke asked. Like the king, he also thought that these young people were sacrificed to their dark gods in exchange for a shorter winter.

“It’s no dishonor not to be chosen; my mother was one who took the journey. The young women who return became healers or wives of our chieftains or Earls. The men usually apprentice themselves to Rune Singers or Rune-Smiths.

“So you believe these Rune Singer’s stories about the Black Sorceress’ return?” King Conall asked carefully.

The Earl looked as if he was going to say something else, then changed his mind and simply said. “I do.”

The Kareivis just sat there and listened as King Conall explained what had happened with Prince Rupert and King Llwynog's army.

“What do you think?”

“I am not worthy enough to understand the thoughts of the Laimigs, but what would you do, great King, if someone invaded your lands. Why would you expect her to do any less?”

--0--

From the battlements of Dun Láiidir, the defenders watched as the two armies finally drew closer. Since coming under siege, King Llwynog had not attempted to assault the fortress or batter it down. No, the defenders knew that if King Conall’s army was defeated outside the gates; they would have no choice but surrender.

As night descended, the two armies sat across from one another. The landscape appeared to be covered in stars, each a campfire surrounded by men. As the healers worked long into the night preparing for the wounded, and the smiths and armorers made last-minute repairs, those among campfires readied themselves for the next morning.

For some, the battle would be a joyous occasion, a chance to show their worth. The Kareivis drank large quantities of mead and sang the ancient battle songs of their fathers. The Sciatháiin, on the other hand, talked quietly as they went over every inch of their arms and armor. Each held significance in their lives, a gift from father to son, with individual pieces being passed down through the generations. Like the Kareivis, they too waited excitedly for the call of battle, for the hunt to begin.

For others, the battle only brought fear. Many believed that the next day would be their last. They sat around the campfires, silent, thinking of loved ones while hating every hour as it brought them closer to the dawn.

Before the first rays of dawn appeared, both camps began to stir. Men and animals were fed, weapons readied, and both armies began the short march to the battlefield. Slowly, regiment by regiment, they stood across from one another. The mercenary companies and other veterans moved in tight formations, maneuvering across the landscape with precision.

Other troops, like the King's Levy, looked more like a mob. The sergeants walking in the rear holding stout clubs to use not against any attacker but those who thought to flee the line of battle.

With the cavalry finally taking to the flanks and the heavy foot moving towards the center, missile troops on both sides moved forward in front of the armies. From crossbows to short bows to the few longbows, they would draw first blood.

Then both armies stopped, looking across the field at one another. On both sides, they waited. Before the conflict began there would often be a battle for honor. Knights on both sides would call each other out for single combat. Or perhaps, as many hoped the two Kings would meet and talk, and there would be no battle today.

However, this day of battle was unlike any other. As the armies readied themselves, a lone figure in black appeared in the center of the battlefield. A woman with raven black hair, stood next to a massive creature, which looked at both armies with disdain.

Her sudden appearance caused some confusion and panic among the ranks. A contingent of levies suddenly turned and fled, running over the sergeants to flee. Did they fear the woman or the beast? No one knew as the other units closed up ranks to fill the holes the fleeing troops just made.

From both sides, a rider appeared, carrying the banner of their king. Nervously they approached the woman. As each returned to their line, after speaking to her, they returned once again, but this time with Dukes of the realm.

As the morning wore on, both sides watched the curious meeting that took place in the center of the battlefield. Finally, as the Dukes and heralds returned, troops made ready for battle, but instead, orders were given to go back to camp.

The fighting between the Kingdom of Airthir and the Kingdom of Dál Riata was over.

Chapter 17

Macha sat on a small opening high above the battlements of Dun Láidir, staring at the two armies encamped outside. For the first few days, the two forces stared at one another across an empty landscape, ready to do battle at a moment’s notice. Although still very apprehensive, especially since the person who had forced the peace seemed to have stepped right out of legend, the two forces had slowly settled down to wait.

Surprisingly, with the fighting on hold and with many who had family, especially among the nobility, on the other side, men and women were making the short journey to each other’s camps.

A strange festival-like atmosphere started to form between the honor duels that took place every morning to the Traveling Players who arrived a few days later.

Still, with the proclamation yesterday that both courts would be meeting in a couple of days at Dun Láidir, rumors had begun to run rampant through both camps. Some believed that the two Kingdoms were planning to surrender, while others thought that the Black Sorceress had been offering her armies to the highest bidder. For the most part, however, people simply waited to see what would become of them in the days ahead.

Feeling someone come up behind her, Macha said. “Nikkei, you don’t need to come in here every minute to see if I am ready.”

“I’m not Nikkei.” A familiar but different sounding voice said with some amusement.

Macha spun around in surprise. “Aislin?”

The two women stared at one another before Macha, with tears running down her face, embraced her friend. Tears began to freely flow down the face of the sorceress as well; as she held the person, she valued the most in this world.

As Macha began to kiss her beloved’s face, she said between breaths. “By the goddess, I have missed you, but I am still angry, you know.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Aislin sighed, turning her head to catch her grandmother’s apprentice on the mouth as the two enjoyed a long passionate kiss.

Stepping back, Macha wiped her tears from her face to get a better look at Aislin. The kisses were as sweet as usual, but the body she embraced was definitely different.

“Oh my, look at you, what happened, you’re beautiful.” Macha stood back in shock but couldn’t help but admire Aislin’s new appearance. She had always thought her pretty once she started to dress properly, but now, Aislin seemed to have embraced womanhood fully. There would be absolutely no confusion that the person standing in front of her was anything but female.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, then you have to tell me everything that has happened to you since you left me. I have guessed some of it, but you owe it to me to tell me everything that’s going on.”

Aislin didn’t begrudge her friend’s anger. She knew she would be spending a lot of time making it up to her, which actually made her smile.

Seeing the smile, Macha frowned. “I’m serious, Aislin, how about tonight? Right now, I’m supposed to be getting ready for a meeting with the Council of Elders. Apparently, this mysterious Máthair, whom my grandmother hasn’t stopped talking about, will be at the full council today.” Her eyes suddenly opened wide. “Wait, you’re her aren’t you?”

Aislin laughed at Macha’s reaction, taking her by the hand, she led her to a chair. “Since they can’t start without me, we have plenty of time to talk. Let me see to your hair, while I give you the short version until we have some time alone.”

“You’re going to work on my hair,” Macha asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Aislin said in a huff, spinning her beloved back around, as her own eyes sparkled with amusement. “My friend Garnet and her sisters have taken great joy in teaching me such things.”

While Aislin worked on Macha’s hair, she explained a little of what was going on.

“So you can tell the future, like a seer? I remember your dreams.”

“Yes, well, I have them now when I am awake as well.” Aislin sighed, thankfully the visions only lasted a second or two.

Macha made an unhappy face; all the Seers eventually went blind by looking into the Spirit Realm. “Your sight?”

Understanding her concerns, Aislin said. “Don’t worry about my eyes, Macha. Because I can heal wounds of the Spirit, I seem to be unaffected by Seer blindness.”

“Thank the goddess. So you know what’s going to happen all the time?”

“No, not exactly,” Aislin said as continued to braid Macha’s hair. “Let me see, you know, when a bowman releases an arrow, it doesn’t hit the target in the same exact location every time.”

“I guess.”

“Well, seeing the future works very similar.” Aislin thought for a moment. “So if the target is a particular event in the future, each arrow, for example, takes a different path to a possible outcome of that event?”

“I see.” Macha nodded.

“Unfortunately, the target doesn’t exactly sit still, as the future continues to be very fluid. Sometimes you find that a particular arrow is missing altogether. But like with any good bowmen, when you get closer to the target, accuracy improves.”

“So if your vision is of something far off into the future, it’s much harder to determine if one of those possible futures will come true. On the other hand, a vision about tomorrow might actually happen.”

“One would think so, but I am not always that accurate. The most powerful of Seers can look at many different outcomes and determine the one that is most likely to be true.”

“Still, there is a lot more you aren’t telling me isn’t there.” Macha gave Aislin the eye for a second, then laughed. “So my beloved, beyond the whole Seer thing, I find it terribly amusing that not too long ago, the council wouldn’t meet with you, and now you are more or less in charge of that same council.” Macha stopped laughing before turning around. “Actually, how did you manage that?”

Before she started to answer, Aislin felt someone outside the door. “We have a visitor.”

“Macha, I don’t know why you won’t have servants help you dress. I think you lived in that village far too-” The young girl, looking a lot like a much younger version of Macha, stopped as she entered the sitting room. “Oh, I see you already have someone helping you. You may go now; I need to speak to my sister alone.”

Macha looked at her sister strangely, unaware that to the young girl, Aislin appeared differently. “Nikkei, don’t be rude. This person is Aislin, she is my friend.”

The young girl frowned, looking at Aislin once more. Gone was the older looking woman in servant’s clothes, replaced with a young woman with raven black hair, dressed in an expensive looking forest green gown. Rubbing her eyes, thinking she needed to get more sleep, the young girl apologized.

“I’m sorry; mother did say you made a friend in that village. My name is Nikkei, as you might have guessed, Macha’s sister.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Nikkei.”

Still, the young girl was a bit confused. Someone had mentioned that Aislin was actually a boy. Of course, that was nonsense; she must be a different friend. “Oh, you must be an apprentice to one of the Wise Women on your lord’s land.”

“Actually, Nikkei, she’s-“ Greatly annoyed at her sister, Macha began to say.

“I am a King’s Healer,” Aislin admitted.

The young girl stopped talking and then looked to her sister for confirmation. At a slight nod from Macha, she dropped to the ground in a deep curtsey. “I am terribly sorry, my lady, I didn’t know.”

Aislin helped the young girl up, telling her to call her Aislin. As the three chatted for a while, Nikkei decided she liked the King’s healer but still felt embarrassed about how she treated her at first. It didn’t help when she asked. “So Aislin, I have met a number of the King’s Healers camped outside. Who is your senior?”

“I don’t have one.” The raven-haired beauty said kindly.

Nikkei almost wailed aloud. Unlike the Court Healers and the Wise Women, the King’s Healers used strength as a means to determine who would lead them. She couldn’t believe she had insulted one of the most powerful healers in the Kingdom. Suddenly, it dawned on the young girl why Aislin was with her sister. “Oh, you must be here to meet the Máthair.”

“Yes, well, something like that.”

“I see well it was nice to meet one of my sister’s friends.” The young girl curtsied once more. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, my lady.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Nikkei.”

Smiling, the young girl turned to her sister. “I’ll be in my room when you’re ready.”

As the door closed, Macha giggled. “She is in for a surprise later today.”

Suddenly as everything that she had heard about her beloved, all of the rumors, the stories came together, Macha felt rather small. The powerful and beautiful sorceress Aislin had become wouldn’t really be interested in the simple daughter of a knight. The young apprentice even felt embarrassed about yelling at Aislin earlier.

“You know you don’t really have to come by tonight.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I’m sure you must be very busy, so don’t worry about me. Please, go on ahead; I have taken up enough of your time.” Not wanting Aislin to see her tears, Macha began to walk to the other side of the room to finish dressing.

The apprentice only took a few steps before Aislin enveloped her in a hug. Holding her for a moment, she said. “When we are done tonight, would you be willing to come home with me. You don’t know how much I have missed waking up with you by my side.”

Macha turned around, answering her with a kiss.

--0--

“No matter how long you look at that map, it won’t change the outcome of what happened last week.”

King Llwynog, the ruler of the Kingdom of Dál Riata, let out a sigh as a woman, dressed all in white, entered the room.

“Of course, if it makes you feel better, you could always just blame me for what happened and send me to the chopping block.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic, Isla.” He said with a chuckle, motioning to the King’s Healer to take a seat. “I could blame my spies as well; of course, I should have believed the information coming from the kingdoms around the Old Forest.”

“True, but even so, one does not expect a myth to simply show up in the middle of a battlefield and demand a truce.”

King Llwynog looked out the Keep’s window. The same castle he had weeks before laid siege to; now he and his court were guests. In the morning, the two kings would be meeting with this so-called myth. “From what Mistress Galena said, she understood this sorceress wasn’t giving us much choice.”

“Your master Thaumaturgist did appear to be a trifle upset,” Isla smirked.

Llwynog gave a small chuckle. “From what I was told, she was terrified.”

“Well, what do you expect when King Conall’s Thaumaturgist threatened the sorceress with a pair of rather large and powerful elementals?”

“So I heard, but then she dispelled them or something.” He didn’t quite understand what happened, other than his herald insisted the two Kings agree to the truce and meet with the sorceress.

The woman nodded slowly. “Actually, it’s rather more serious; the sorceress shattered the bindings and banished the elementals. Galena said she had never experienced that much raw power.”

The older woman had to be actually brought to the healer’s tent and given a potion to help her sleep.

“Have you heard anything about what happened to Prince Rupert?”

Glad to change the subject, she knew the disappearance of the Heir to the kingdom, and the numerous regiments of horse had shocked the entire army. When ordered to redeploy away from the forest, the army was more than happy to comply.

The King shrugged. “Nothing, although something tells me he is safe, at least for now.”

“If I may ask, what do you expect tomorrow?”

The King thought for a moment and then answered. “Besides ransom demands, I’m not sure. Although with the time already lost, I cannot see actually fighting a battle to be in our best interest.”

“So, you think she knows of the loss of Farraige?”

The port city had been attacked with great loss of life by the ocean-going Trodaá. With most of the king’s troops marching off to face King Conall’s army, they had been raiding up and down the coastline with impunity. Such attacks were soon to become a full-fledged invasion.

“How can she not Isla.”

The overall plan had been for a quick ending to the war between the two kingdoms. While defending the ground of his own choosing, the two wings of cavalry were to attack the enemy from the rear.

“With Conall bringing up more troops, at this point, I would have no choice but to concede the valley.”

“Your Majesty, you know that’s not what he is going to demand. We will lose the valley, and you must release all claims to his throne.”

“My wife won’t be pleased, but that will be my burden to bear.” He said with a small laugh.

The King’s Healer looked serious for a moment. “What if they decided to continue the battle anyway? King Conall must know of the attacks on our coastline.”

“You are right; however we cannot afford to defend ourselves from both.” Pausing for a moment, he asked. “You and the other healers, however, do not seem overly concerned about this sorceress’s sudden appearance.”

Isla didn’t say anything about the comment.

“You thought I might have missed that, no? What I have been told, your elders are meeting with someone called the Máthair this evening. The sorceress, I presume.”

Once again, the Court Healer remained silent.

The king nodded. “It would present some difficulties for both our forces if you and your sisters decide to side with the sorceress.” Looking up concerned, he stared at the healer for a moment. “They wouldn't do that, would they? Would you? No don’t answer me; I have never doubted your loyalty.”

The two sat together silently, seeing that conversation had come to an end, the Court healer stood up and started to walk out of the room.

“Isla”

The healer stopped and looked back, the man had appeared to have aged quite a bit since the army left the capitol.

“When you speak to the Sorceress, will you tell her I would like to meet with her tonight if possible?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

Chapter 18

Baroness Ráisán, the former Speaker of the Council of Elders, slowly made her way through the deserted hallways of Dun Láiidir. Her thoughts dwelled upon the council’s first meeting with the Máithair.

Well, before she began to learn the use of her gifts, Ráisán had always enjoyed listening to stories of ancient magics. When brought before the Council and the High Seat for the first time, a relic from those times, she had always considered it the most exciting moment in her life, until now.

Truthfully, like her sisters, she did not believe that the Máithair would return one day. Even when rumors began to surface of a new Black Sorceress, few gave it any serious thought. Most knew the council’s archives contained stories of others who had tried to claim the title, but all had been either killed or mysteriously disappeared.

However, those beliefs changed when a panicked apprentice burst into a meeting, proclaiming that the three large spirit stones that crowned the High Seat had begun glow. That news, along with the fact that meeting the apprentice interrupted a discussion concerning a terrible disease that had ravished Lord Kelvin’s lands and the young person who had supposedly healed the sickness. Immediately Watchers were sent to seek out this so-called sorceress and to question the former elder, the Wisewoman Ina, and the one named Aislin.

With the spirit stones glowing bright, the different political factions inside the council wasted no time in holding meetings on how to curry favor with the Máithair. Most assumed that like others who wanted to be Speaker, she would ally herself with one group or another. What they come to realize tonight, the Máithair was power all her own.

“Nikkei?” The Baroness stopped at the top of the stairs, her apprentice interrupting her musing.

‘She isn’t coming back, is she?” The young girl stood in the doorway to her sister’s room, staring at an empty bed.

Waving off the servants who had followed behind her, the Baroness took the hand of her youngest grandchild leading her away from the empty room.

“Come, I’ll help you get undressed.”

Afterward, the two sat while Ráisán ran a brush through her granddaughter’s hair. “When your mother was younger, I used to do this every night.”

Seeing her apprentice finally relaxing, but not wanting to ask about Macha directly, she asked. “So, what are your feelings about what happened tonight at the meeting?”

“I like Aislin; I mean the Máithair.”

“I don’t think she would mind you calling her Aislin, child.”

Shrugging, the young girl looked down while playing with her fingers. “Are you upset that you are no longer the Speaker?”

The Baroness gave a small sigh. “Well, I won’t deny that it did upset me at first, but I trust the Máithair. Ina is a better choice. Most of the council respects her, and frankly, I have too much history with the old council. While meeting with Aislin this week, it opened my eyes to the challenges that lay ahead for all of us and the need to step away from our petty rivalries.”

“She didn’t say much at first.”

“True, why do you think she did that?”

Thinking for a moment, Nikkei explained, “She wanted to make sure everyone was able to voice their concerns. However, it seems to me that the same arguments that happen at every council meeting started up again tonight. Lady Cassandra and Mistress Aya yelled at one another as usual. Mistress Melinda and her group argued with you and Lady Caitlyn as usually argued with everyone.”

“But then surprisingly, they all stopped.”

“From what I could tell, everyone seemed pretty embarrassed about the whole thing.” Nikkei almost giggled at the faces of the elders, most of them as old as her grandmother, who looked at one another ashamed.

The Baroness nodded, feeling unhappy that she too had started to fall into old habits. She couldn’t believe that someone like herself, who had seen over fifty summers, acted like a child in front of the Máithair.

“I did hear something strange about what happened right before the meeting, though. Was it true that Lady Morag challenged Aislin? I didn’t understand why. Myrtle, you know Mistress Daphne’s apprentice told a bunch of us what happened.”

Baroness Ráisán had been informed about the encounter as well, surprised to hear that her old friend would challenge Aislin. In this day and age, even for one as powerful as Morag to call for the ancient challenge seemed unthinkable.

As well known as a scholar of the ancient world, she must have assumed that using the old forms, she might embarrass the young woman revealing Aislin as an impostor. Unfortunately for the Countess, the Máithair knew the old ways all too well.

According to the rumors, something flashed crossed Aislin’s eyes, and for a brief moment, the Máithair seemed to be far away, but with a flick of her wrist, a glowing blue circle appeared on the floor as she accepted the challenge.

The Baroness had also felt her power when she first met her, so she felt sorry for her friend after hearing that the challenge ended in mere seconds. Apparently, no one knew exactly what happened, but one moment Lady Morag stood in the center of the room, the next she curled up on the floor whimpering.

Someone else might have left the woman on the ground. From what she heard, Aislin stood still for a moment before kneeling down, taking the old woman into her arms.

“Why did Lady Morag challenge the Máithair? Everyone knows the High Seat is hers by tradition, even if she might seem too young. Mistress Lynette told me once that experience, not power, was needed to rule the council.”

The old woman could help but give a dry chuckle. Expertise in politics perhaps and the ability to gain the support of others gives power to the Speaker.

“So why did it happen?” The young girl turned around, confused.

“Do you know that Lady Morag is also a King’s Healer? She must have felt a need to test the Máithair powers. ”

“So does that mean the King’s Healers challenge one another like that?”

The Baroness laughed. “Oh no, my dear, not in a long time. Lady Morag has always been a bit of a traditionalist, though. Perhaps she also wanted to embarrass the Máithair, or maybe prove something she was not.”

“Not a very smart thing to do if you ask me, but then again, how could she have known? I mean, when I first met Aislin, I couldn’t feel her magic at all.”

The Baroness smiled, remembering meeting Aislin for the first time as well and the surprise how easily the sorceress managed to slip through her spirit wards, entering the tent without notice.

“Also Myrtle mentioned something odd, why did Countess Elaine start to beg the Máithair forgiveness about her husband’s betrayal? We didn’t understand any of that. ”

No, the young girls wouldn’t understand the horrors of twenty years ago. Of the battles that took place, rivers of blood spilled in the grab for power. Whole families destroyed, villages burned too much death. Everyone involved just wanted to forget those times and move on.

It, of course, came as no surprise when the older women of the council faces paled when the Máithair entered the room. Like the first time she met Aislin, it was like seeing a ghost.

“Countess Elaine even removed herself from the council afterward.” Nikkei shook her head. “And then, the whole thing with Mistress Ina. I mean, how stupid can I be. I didn’t know she was a Court Baroness. Between the way, I treated Aislin at first and that I was never really respectful to her grace. Macha must hate me.”

Baroness Roisin sighed. As the youngest of six children, and with most her siblings away from home, Nikkei had been doted upon by her mother. She came to her last year entirely unprepared to be an apprentice. The first night, she fought with Macha over who she would be an apprentice to. Nikkei berated her, explaining that for someone of their family’s status to be apprenticed off to a mere Wisewoman was an embarrassment.

“She doesn’t hate you, Nikkei.” Ráisán gave her grandchild a hug. “But don’t worry, you will see her tomorrow.”

“I know. I just missed having her around.” The young girl whispered. Leaning back, she wiped the tears from her eyes. Suddenly, she giggled. “Did you hear that Aislin lives in a flying castle?”

“Where did you hear that?” A flying castle indeed, the Baroness laughed.

Sitting back, excited. “Well, you know, Moriah, she’s from the Kingdom of Osie.”

“That’s pretty far to the south, near the Grey Wastes?”

“Right, they seem to have different stories about the Sorceress. They really like her down there, I think. Anyway, Moriah said that Aislin lives in a golden castle that flies around pulled along by a pair of Storm Dragons.”

Roisin smiled at her grandchildren’s sudden change in attitude. Helping her up, she tucked the young girl into bed. “You will have to ask Aislin tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait until tomorrow, then.”

Baroness Roisin of House Creil could still remember the surprised faces of the Elder Council when Countess Elaine marched into the chamber, declaring that Baroness Ina now held her seat on the council, then immediately turned around and swore fealty to Aislin.

“So do I child, so do I.”

--0--

For King Conall, the day had already started in disaster. Upon waking up, he discovered that four mercenary regiments had detached themselves from his service. Rumors abound throughout the Army about why this happened, but no one really knew. For the mercenary commanders, they merely paid the penalty for breaking a contract before the start of the first battle of the season but gave no other word.

“By the gods of battle, three regiments of heavy horse, one light, and all good troops.” Duke Blathmac scratched his head, reading the parchment listing the forces that had departed.

“Now this, the Kareivis have departed as well? How could you have let them leave?” The King sat down on his chair.

“How could I stop them, your Majesty?” The Count shook his head. The departure of the best heavy foot in the realm had shocked the entire army.

“The Kareivis do what they want, it’s not like we can stop them anyway. They don’t have a contract with us; they fight because they want to fight.”

“I ran into Cailtram and asked why they were leaving. He claimed the Blessed One has returned.”

“Seems our Black Sorceress has her claws into the Kareivis as well. Anyway, it seems we are not without some luck.” The Prince pushed a piece of parchment towards his father. “It appears our dear cousin has also lost a few regiments as well, all of them marching out of his camp last night. Fortunately for us, the ‘Whites’ departed his army as well.”

“Damn Willow wands, glad we don’t have to face them.” Count Volan grumbled.

“I wouldn’t be too sure.”

“What do you mean, Uncle?” Prince Burin looked up from the list.

“Take a look at this.” The Duke set a map on the table, revealing the deployment of both armies. As he did so, he pointed to one section of the map in particular. “All of the regiments last night, including the ones from this morning army have begun to redeploy along the southern half of the battlefield.

“So, I wake up this morning to learn part of my army march out of camp last night, and I am now sitting in an untenable position.” King Conall slammed his fist down on the table.

Each and every man knew that although the troops were sitting on their far left flank would not be enough to do real damage; they left the army terribly vulnerable if the forces of King Llwynog launched an attack.

“Should we redeploy?”

“No, I don’t think we should, my Prince. We don’t wish to give King Llwynog an excuse to move against us as all three of our forces are still under the Bann.”

“At least he can’t be happy with those troops leaving his line of battle.” Prince Burin laughed but then looked thoughtful. “Father, what if the two are working together?”

King Conall grimaced. “If that is the case, we will know soon enough. Give the orders, Blathmac. Every regiment needs to make ready for battle but do not deploy them until I give the word. Let’s see what this so-called Sorceress has to say for herself and see how she managed to entice those mercenary troops away from us.”

--0--

Beyond the two armies, a small camp nestled among the trees of the Forest of Wyre. Unlike the other two camps, men and women began to ready themselves for battle, a fight that most hoped would not happen. Although it was commonly known who now commanded the small force, many couldn’t help but stop and stare at the beautiful young woman and the black and blue Griffin banner that flew above her.

Astride a beautiful white mare, the Black Sorceress waited patiently as her friends and allies readied themselves for her meeting with the two Kings.

“You look tired.” A warm, familiar voice said one that she had missed very much.

“Didn’t sleep much last night.” Aislin smiled at her surrogate grandmother.

“Seems Macha didn’t get much sleep either.”

“Grams.” The Sorceress gave a quiet whine. Aislin might be something out of legend, but to the woman who sat next to her, she was still the child who used to sneak into bed with her during thunderstorms. Aislin wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Sorceress smiled at the memory of their recent reunion. The two women started apologizing to one another, both afraid that they had hurt the other. It didn’t take long for the two of them sitting down, with Aislin telling Ina her tale. From beginning to end, she told her everything.

“Anyway, Baroness.” Her eyes sparkling with mischief, Aislin made sure to emphasize the title.

Ina smiled naturally; she too had a lot to apologize for.

“Oh, Gran did you speak to Elaine last night?”

“Yes, she will be joining us in a moment. Although she didn’t mention you or your house by name, she did manage to get your cousin's oaths on both sides to refuse battle.”

“Good.”

“Well, I believe you have the right of it. King Llwynog explained to me last night, like yourself, he is in the opinion that King Conall will not go on the offensive unless he outnumbered both forces.”

The Sorceress nodded. She needed to be careful. Just the right amount of pressure needed to be applied. Any more and King Conall would react aggressively and less, and he wouldn’t take the threat seriously. Placing her newfound troops on his flank would be quite the wake-up call this morning for King Conall.

Macha's eyes widen as she rode up, hearing the end of the conversation. “Are you expecting one, Aislin, I mean a battle?”

The Sorceress turned on her saddle, smiling as Mach approached. “By the goddess, I hope not, but it’s better to be prepared.” She then nodded to Cailtram, the leader of the Kareivis.

Unlike her Aunt, the original Black Sorceress, Aislin had no prior military experience, so she was happy to have help from those who have spent most of their lives on a battlefield.

Thankfully, Cailtram had more than helpful in positioning her troops in a way that if need be, they could retreat unhindered or if necessary, pressure King Conall's forces.

“Hail Burvju, how fair you this morning.”

“Good morning to you, my Johtaja. Will you join me this day?”

“My life is yours.” The ruler of the Kareivis grinned then turned to look approvingly at the young man carrying Aislin’s banner who rode forward.

“How did you learn how to speak their language, Aislin?” Mach nudged her horse off to the side, a little afraid of the hard-looking man.

Aislin looked at her for a second before smiling. “Magic.”

All four turned at the sudden shout and cheer, as a lone banner-man pushed forward bearing a banner that had not been seen for over twenty years.

“I never thought I would see this day again?” Ina whispered as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Grandma?”

Aislin smiled as Ina reached over and squeezed her hand. Moving her horse around, she looked up at the banner and the young man carrying it.

With a grin, she looked at her grandmother and said. “Let’s go surprise my Uncles.”

Chapter 19

A cool morning breeze blew through the ancient Forest of Wyre, spreading across the valley as if heralding the approach of Aislin.

Dressed in an exquisite, a black and silver gown, she studied the lands around her before motioning her mount forward towards the fortified keep of Dun Láiidir. Behind her, a procession of other riders soon followed, the more heavily armored riders spreading out as the group passed through the edge of the woods.

Galloping ahead of the escort, a mailed warrior shouted with joy, pumping his fist high in the air as he held a large cloth banner aloft. Many of the armored riders joined the cheer. To them, the blue and black griffon banner had always been a symbol of hope, something that had been missing for many years.

Moving forward, the riders, covered in thick plates of steel and mail, were not mere swords for hire. The best mercenary companies never were. With long histories, some reaching as far back as the first kingdoms, the most sought after commanders held as much power as some nobles who they found themselves in employment. The heavy horse escorting the Sorceress, recently employed by the Kingdom of Dáil Riata, had at one time been household troops.

At the end of the War of Succession, nobles refusing to swear fealty to the new King of Airthir lost their titles and lands. While many went into exile, others who found themselves without a home, banded together to form mercenary companies, working hard to keep the martial traditions of their old household alive. Now for the first time in many years, those men truly felt as if they were home.

To the commanders of the army of the Kingdom of Airthir, the sight of heavy horse only brought confusion. For the last week, preparations had been made to do battle against dark forces, hoards of elementals, or even the undead. Now the officers stood uncertain, facing a rather mundane group of riders heading towards the fortified gates of Dun Láiidir.

Even more unsettling, above the processional, flew a symbol of a family, an enemy that had fought with great tenacity before it fell. The Captains of the army of Airthir did not know which would be worse, facing dark forces of the Black Sorceress or seeing those banners once again flying on the other side of a battlefield.

To the simple foot soldiers, the infamous Black Sorceress’ sudden appearance as the head of an honorable household, who calmly rode in between the two great armies, brought great relief. Although they stood ready, many believed and hoped that the day would end peacefully.

To Aislin, the gentle breeze brought the pungent aroma of horse and men, leather, and steel. Anyone familiar with the smell knew that it often preceded bloody battles. The young woman, too, hoped for a better outcome for the day.

Hiding a smirk, she nodded regally to the Captains and Knights standing in front of the formations that stood on the small rise near them. As they passed the long line of troops, a gentle murmur of voices followed, surprisingly not hostile.

“Not what they expected.”

Aislin turned in the saddle slightly, giving her grandmother a soft smile. “No, I would think not.”

For a brief moment, Ina could see in the eyes of her granddaughter, not the powerful Black Sorceress, but the frightened child she often found herself comforting after a particularly troubling day.

She knew what her granddaughter feared most. In the early morning, as the two shared a small breakfast, Aislin spoke of what needed to happen today and the terrible consequences of what would go wrong if it did not.

“I believe that you will surprise a lot more people today. Of course, to many, your appearance itself will give people pause.” Ina moved closer to the Sorceress. “I know that I have told this to you before, but you look so much like Miranda. It’s uncanny.”

Aislin nodded, it wasn’t just her looks that would be unsettling either. From what she knew, her father’s mother had been a formidable woman and a powerful King’s Healer.

“Of course, back then, we were nothing more than two silly girls who often ignored their apprentice duties to watch the boys practice in the castle’s courtyard. Our Mistress had other ideas, making sure we were too busy to find time to look at boys.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar, not the boy part, though.”

Ina chuckled. “Yes, well, like her, I have tried to guide my charges with a firm hand during their apprenticeships. Although, at times, we cursed your great-grandmother for apprenticing us to that woman, we were still both very grateful.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, being born in a royal house, Miranda had little choice but to follow a certain path, gifted or not. However, when I first came into my power, your great-grandmother took it as a sign that the two of us should remain together.”

“Both of you were apprentices to the same Healer?”

“Yes, rather strange; then again, Macha has two people teaching her.”

Aislin shrugged. “She’s hardly my apprentice.”

“I beg to differ. Nevertheless, your grandmother and I apprenticed under King Uric’s Healer. Once the two of us passed our apprenticeship, I remained with your grandmother.”

As Ina continued to tell the story of her long friendship with Miranda, Aislin’s grandmother, she could see Aislin relaxing. Just like during thunderstorms, when she would entertain the scared young girl with her favorite stories.

“Now speaking of trouble, your father was a handful. Always curious about how things work. He made a fine engineer. Sir Henry, the old Lord Kelvin, was quite happy to allow your father to add some improvements to his castle and lands. ”

Aislin bit her lip for a moment; the two of them had been dancing around the topic since she returned.

“Did my parents know Lord Kelvin well?”

Ina frowned for a moment. “Friends and cousins, as you know. The late Lord Kelvin was a Royal Engineer and the one who sponsored your father into the Society.”

Aislin nodded, the Royal Engineers were a close-knit group. Not surprisingly, one would step forward to help another in a time of need.

“So, what happened?”

Ina closed her eyes for a moment, lost in her memories. “After the battle of Rathlind, we found your father, lying in a King’s Healer’s tent, severely wounded. With your grandfather dead and Duke Conall forces holding the field, both your parents would have most likely have been killed if captured.”

The Baroness paused again. “Sir Henry gave them sanctuary at his castle, hiding your father until he recovered. Your parents had hoped to make their way to King Llwynog’s lands once your father recovered, but Sir Henry had other plans. Since your household still had some allies in the court, they believed if your father swore fealty to the new king, they might be able to keep some of their lands and titles.”

“So, what happened?”

“Sir Henry passed away suddenly, and when his son claimed the title, your parent’s location became known to other members of the court. It was at that time Duke Blathmac appeared in the village demanding that your father accompany him and take command of one of the King’s Regiments of Foot.”

“Right, one of King Conall’s first attempts to push into the Gairdán valley; of course, they called it a rebellion.” Aislin looked towards the keep; her father had been killed right in front of those very walls many years ago.

“Well your mother wasn’t too pleased, I can tell you that. But they both believed that your father’s support would go a long way in gaining favor with the new king.”

“But he died.”

“Yes, he did child, and when that happened, support in the court disappeared. Your mother’s so-called allies wished for her to remain a simple village healer; hopefully soon to be forgotten.

Doubtfully she would have followed their advice until she discovered she was pregnant with you. After you had been born, the two of us made other plans. Once you were old enough, we would help you recover your titles and lands.” Ina gave Aislin a warm smile.

“So, that’s how you ended up in the village?”

“Yes, with my husband and your grandparents dead, I decided to go into exile with your mother.”

“Your husband?” Aislin looked at her grandmother, seeing the shadow of sorrow in her eyes. “You never really talked about him much. Just that he died before I was born.”

“I haven’t.” Ina frowned, and then looked distant with a half-smile on her lips. “He was a good man, a good husband; fiercely loyal to his friends but especially your grandfather. The two of them died along with so many others at Rathlind. Did you know that your grandfather and my husband were knighted the same day by the old king himself? “

Aislin smiled and shook her head.

“Brave fools the lot of them. We loved them all of them so very much. At least for me, a day does not pass-”

The two rode silently for a time, lost in their own thoughts.

“Baroness, will you please meet with the King’s Herald when we arrive. I’ll let you decide how we are to proceed.”

The older woman’s eye lit up before she gave a slight bow. “As you command, your Grace.”

--0--

Putting Ina in charge of the order of precedence had been the correct decision. As the group approached, she quickly confronted the King’s Herald. Even before he could speak, the Baroness had already informed the poor man exactly how things were going to go. Of course, the two Kings had other ideas, but she would have none of that.

“Burvju, I feel your power here, it overflows in the very stones.” Her banner-man rode up to Aislin’s side. Adorned in heavy mail and plate and wielding a large runic ax, the young man, an epitome of a Kareivis warrior, carried the banner of his Burvju proudly.

Like others who dwelled in the Sorceress’s castle, Aislin came to know the young Kareivis named Ukko through one of her visions. High above the clouds, in the snow-capped mountains, the young Runecaster had patiently waited for the goddess of death or the Burvju to claim him as one of her own.

With the first rumors of an ancient power awakening in the old woodlands, the people began to stir. Those who heard the call of the Burvju began to gather around the ancient meeting places, singing the songs of her return. They all knew it would be a matter of time when she began a search for new champions.

Although the gift was rare, Ukko wanted to stand out from the others. Leaving the small group at the traditional spot of acceptance, he pushed upwards into the lands of snow and ice. Climbing so high, it became difficult to breathe. Now high above the clouds, death’s cold touch came upon him. Knowing that only his craft lore would keep him alive and with a prayer on his lips, he began to carve fire runes into the very stones themselves.

If the Burvju had not claimed him the next morning, Ukko knew he would have perished. Only the strongest would be able to stand by the Burvju side when the darkness tried to claim the realm, like the ancient heroes out of legends. Anything else would have been unacceptable to him and the people.

The Bannerman barked with laughter as Aislin only smiled. From the little time he had spent with her, he knew the Burvju was one to have plans within plans.

“Yes, Ukko, even the two armies are not safe. Ancient standing stones lay deep under their campsites, waiting for my call.”

Motioning for the young man to follow, Aislin studied the castle’s walls. Immediately she noticed that many of the ancient black rocks embedded in the fortification as well. The Sorceress had chosen her meeting place well. With little effort, she could easily call upon the ancient defenders that resided in the stone.

However, even with that power at her fingertips, Aislin had little desire to call upon that magic.

She now stood at the crossroads in time, moments before an event of such magnitude that it would influence the political future of the realm for many years to come. Even the smallest action would directly impact those events.

She had changed that outcome to a certain degree by arriving under her House banner and not that of the Black Sorceress. That had been a gamble, but so far, it worked better than she thought possible. Only as a last resort would she call upon the stone defenders, and if that happened, all of her plans had already gone terribly awry.

As Aislin dismounted in the courtyard of the keep, she had had to stop herself from giggling at the satisfied look on Ina’s face as her grandmother returned.

“Gone well, I take it?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that nice.” Before Ina could answer, a tall man in black and silver stepped out of the shadows.

Prince Scáith almost laughed aloud at the mortals surrounding the Sorceress. Except for the one called Macha, most of her so-called defenders backed away in panic.

“Do you wish to test me, girl?” The creature stepped forward, threatening. Macha just stood her ground, giving him a malevolent glare.

“Did you do as I asked?” Power rolled off the Sorceress, her voice almost bringing the creature to his knees.

“Of course, the so-called Prince and his troops have been returned to their lands, unharmed.”

The Black Sorceress raised an eyebrow. “In the exact location, I wish them to be released?”

“Yes,” The creature grumbled.

Until last night, Aislin had Prince Rupert and his brigade of horse wandering around the Forest of Wyre. Like other soldiers, who had entered her domain, the men and horses had spent their time lost, wandering around the forest in circles.

If Scáith did as she asked, the men should be exiting the edge of the woods on the other side of the valley, far to the south and away from any chance of joining a battle that would, if she had anything to do about it, not take place.

“Foolish, if you want my advice?”

“Not really.”

“You should; the mortal Prince was a perfect hostage. Liadan would have kept him. In fact, she wouldn’t even bother talking to these so-called Kings.”

“I’m not Liadan.”

“Obviously.” The creature rolled his eyes in disgust before disappearing once again into the shadows, hidden away but still close if needed. Although the Sorceress had sufficiently awed the Thaumaturgists when she shattered the bonds of their elementals, they were still a threat.

Ignoring the rebuke, Aislin strode forward with the rest of the processional behind her. Reaching the large gateway, she found that for some reason, the King’s herald had disappeared.

“The Klarsdales have always been a flighty sort, never understood why Connell made them heralds.” Ina shook her head, annoyed at the apparent lack of protocol.

“You don’t think?”

Her concern filtered towards some of the others, who looked up at the ramparts. Finding nothing but curious onlookers, they turned their sight back to an amused Sorceress.

Aislin understood that the Kings, well, one, in particular, was trying to prove that he was still in charge. She decided to show him the error of those beliefs.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea of who is making us wait; the only problem is I hate waiting.” With a flick of her wrist, the doorway opened. Turning back to the others, she smiled. “Shall we.”

--0--

Throughout the long night, retainers and servants worked diligently in the great hall, preparing it for the two kings’ parley with the infamous Black Sorceress. Along with two gilded thrones, regimental banners hung from the ceiling, along with large tapestries of various victorious battles.

With the thrones placed higher than the rest of the room, along with the trappings, the room would hopefully give the illusion of strength and intimidate the fabled Black Sorceress.

King Llwynog, sitting on one of the gilded thrones, looked upon the great hall with grim amusement. “Just an illusion,” He murmured.

At the start of the week, the position of the Kingdom of Airthir continued to improve as reinforcements arrived almost daily. From the number of troops now deployed on the field, Llwynog believed that King Connell had come close to stripping the borders of their protection.

With the mercenaries departing the camps the night before, it suddenly placed Connell in a precarious position. Even that small number of troops the Sorceress fielded, if deployed correctly, could threaten not only the flanks of the army of Airthir but also the lands to the north.

Looking around the great hall, he didn’t see strength but desperation. King Llwynog prayed to the gods of battle, that desperation didn’t force King Connell to do something that everyone would regret.

From his own point of view, nothing had gone as planned since the campaign began. However, after meeting with the Sorceress envoy last night, if things went well, the day might not end in a complete unmitigated disaster.

Watching the commotion going on at the front of the hall with interest, he stifled a chuckle. Apparently, Conall’s desire to force the Sorceress to wait did sit well with her. Not surprising, even if he doubted the legend, that one would not be one to suffer fools gladly.

Noticing the panicky heralds approach his fellow king in the last few minutes, he chuckled. From the way the King of Airthir looked, most of it must have been bad news.

“Do you find this amusing, Llwynog?” King Conall growled.

Looking over, he merely shrugged. “So, do you think it’s particularly wise to have all of these people included in this parley?”

“The others are not here at my request.”

Beyond the half a dozen members of his court that stood along the side of him, numerous other onlookers filled the hall. From Captains of Horse and Foot, Knights of the Realm along with other Nobles, not including a group of white-robed King’s Healers, and Court Healers talked quietly among themselves waiting for the Sorceress to appear.

For a moment, King Llwynog thought about bringing up the decor of the great hall but changed his mind. Little could be done about it now. His choice had been for the three of them to meet in one of the command tents. Conall wanted to make a whole pageant out of it.

Suddenly two new people entered the hall, interrupting the royal conversation. One easily recognizable, dressed in garish yellow and red doublet and hose, as Conall’s senior Herald. The other, an older woman dressed in a dark green gown with a white and silver sash denoting her rank of a Court Healer.

With a scornful look towards the Herald, the woman stepped forward into the center of the great hall.

King Conall paled suddenly. “I know you.”

“Yes, Your Grace, I am Baroness Ina of House Dálseacht and at one time, your sister’s Court Healer.”

“How dare you.” The King’s Herald finally found his voice. “You present yourself in front of King Conall of House Armhaighe, his Majesty most High and ruler of all the lands of Airthir.”

“That remains to be seen.” A voice suddenly called out.

From the doorway, a woman dressed in black and silver entered the great hall. Behind her, marched a small group of retainers, including a warrior holding the black and blue Griffon banner.

Baroness Ina smiled at the stunned kings. “Let me introduce to you Her Grace, Duchess Aislin of House Osraige.”

Chapter 20

Ignoring the reactions to her entrance into the great hall, Aislin contemplated the challenging and dangerous road she had chosen. Proclaiming herself a Duchess, as opposed to the Black Sorceress had been a good start, but that choice didn’t come without its share of difficulties. The smallest ill-timed event could easily lead them all to disaster.

First, Aislin needed to remind her enemies and allies about her other more ancient heritage, a legacy that ultimately forced two armies to stop fighting. However, displaying those gifts through a show of brute force, or even a vague threat of it, would be counterproductive. No, for this to work out the way she wanted, it needed to be subtle.

As the arguments breaking out among the noblemen in the hall had not stopped and overall served no real purpose other than to delay the meeting, Aislin decided to move things forward.

“Excuse me; I seem to be wanting for a place to sit.” With a wave of the Sorceress' hand, a raised throne formed in the center of the room. Created from rich green spirit stone, its presence caused the whole room to fall silent.

Taking a seat, the Duchess turned towards the two kings. “Uncle Llwynog; before we begin. Prince Rupert sends his regrets but will be unable to attend these discussions.”

“Sends his regrets, Sorceress?” The King of Airthir spat. “We heard those troops vanished and were slaughtered to the man by your own hand.”

Aislin shook her head, seemingly immune to the anger coming from King Cullen. “Rupert and his men came to no harm. Oh, I’m sure they will think before intruding upon my lands again; however, as I said, they are all well. “

King Cullen spoke once again in an accusatory tone. “Sorceress, you were the one who demanded this meeting. Against my better judgment, I have halted the attacks to push these invaders of our lands.”

King Llwynog, with the guilt of the fate of those troops he sent into the Forest of Wyre gone, threw himself into the argument with the King of Airthir with great joy. “Invaders, hardly, my own Queen Cariad holds legitimate claims to these lands. It is you who are the invaders.”

Everyone in the room knew one of the factors in the open hostility between the two kingdoms had been due to the different Laws of Succession. In the Kingdom of Airthir, only the male heir inherited, while in the Kingdom of Dáil, the eldest child.

With the former King of Airthir dying childless and no other males to assume the throne, the Succession Wars began. Even with King Cullen taking the throne, because of their different laws, Queen Cariad, wife of King Llwynog and daughter of King Uric, late King of Airthir, continued to press the issue. Those wars had continued every spring, until now.

Wanting to stop the argument before it escalated, Aislin interrupted the two monarchs. “And I ended your battle before it began. And, truth be told, both of you are currently trespassing upon my lands.”

The King of Dáil Riata grimaced, not wanting to upset his newfound ally. “My apologies. Our two kingdoms have been at each other’s throats for so long that this argument has become a habit. You are correct, Duchess, we have indeed intruded upon your domain, and for that, I do apologize.”

King Cullen, on the other hand, shifted uncomfortably on his throne for a moment, knowing that lands surrounding had at one time been part of the Black Sorceress’ domain, but that had been a long time ago.

“I do not recognize those claims. You may claim whatever you wish, but the Black Sorceress’ kingdom is no more.”

“Perhaps, but I was speaking as a Duchess and head of House Osraige. These forests and pastures surrounding the Keep of Dun Láiidirhave always been my family’s ancestral lands and have for hundreds of years.”

“House Osraige no longer holds these lands for the crown.” The King of Airthir replied testily.

“I believe Duchess Aislin doesn’t acknowledge that you have the right to take away her house’s lands, Cullen, much less the right actually to wear that crown on your head. Do you, dear, my dear niece?”

“Niece.” The King of Airthir grumbled, staring unhappily at this so-called Duchess. It would have been easier to oppose an evil Sorceress. He could have easily united his kingdom against such a foe. Proclaiming herself as Duchess Aislin of House Osraige suddenly changed everything.

“Indeed,” Aislin mused quietly as she watched as Cullen turned to a well-armored Knight at his side, before giving what appeared to be several commands. Those commands had a ripple effect on Cullen’s Court.

She half expected that watching as a number handful of nobles exited the great hall. Most likely, returning to their regiments, preparing them for battle. She didn’t worry overly much. Overall, King Cullen and his Court had acted quite predictably.

Although there were inherent dangers in continuing down this path, she still needed to push him a little further. Even with Cullen scrambling to ready his army, the King of Airthir needed to understand the folly of actually starting that fight.

“So this shouldn’t come as a surprise, my royal cousin, but Rupert is no longer my heir.”

King Cullen almost rose from this throne at that proclamation. Any other discussion in the room came to a halt.

For the King of Dáil Riata, the Prince’s disappearance exposed his own kingdom’s succession issues. Suddenly with invaders landing on the shores and Kingdom of Airthir troops starting a new spring campaign, Llwynog was not terribly optimistic about the future of his kingdom.

Now he didn’t wish the young man harm, however, although a popular choice among the nobles, Rupert would have made a terrible king. When he discovered that the young man and his troops had disappeared, except for the utter waste of good men, the thought didn’t bother him too much.

The goddess of Fate must have smiled upon his kingdom when House Osraige returned. With many enemies on land and sea, leaving the throne to his powerful niece, Llwynog knew his kingdom’s future would be left in very capable hands.

“The Black Sorceress is now your heir, correct.” King Cullen frowned, trying to hold in his anger.

Apparently, the two had already made an alliance. He had given orders to ready his army, now thoughts of redeploying his army instead or worse calling a retreat came to mind.

“No, Cullen, not the Black Sorceress, but Duchess Aislin of House Osraige; understand she is now my heir by our laws as she is the eldest child.”

“Are you honestly claiming this girl is the next heir to the throne of Dáil Riata?”

King Llwynog shook his head in disgust. “Ignore the facts at your peril, Cullen. The proof is right in front of you. Besides, you should know your family tree. The Duchess here is my great-niece through my lovely wife Queen Cariad, formerly of House Osraige. It also makes Aislin your niece, through your sister as well, does it not? “

The Duchess watched the other nobles in the room carefully. The discussion had already arrived at this point much faster than she would have thought. Her appearance as Duchess Aislin, as opposed to the Black Sorceress, opened this particular path. Early or not, however, she needed to let the events continue on its course.

King Llwynog’s proclamation stunned the room, informing the nobles of the now unspoken alliance between House Osraige and the King of Dáil Riata.

Aislin could already see the mood of the room shift. Many had been unhappy with Cullen’s reign and just as many of old allies of House Osraige that would be happy to take up arms once more.

“Why all the confusion anyway?” Llwynog gave almost a feral grin, pushing the issue further. “You of all people should know my kingdom’s Laws of Succession. Not only that, by our laws, Duchess Aislin has a better claim to your throne then you do. “

King Cullen looked at the two angrily, but before he could say anything, heated arguments once again broke out amongst the nobles present.

“Now, his actual supports will make an appearance.” Aislin could hear her grandmother whisper.

The Sorceress nodded. Although King Cullen had gained the throne twenty years ago, only the support of several wealthy and powerful noble houses had kept the realm from falling back into Civil War. With the heir of House Osraige sudden reappearing, the quite vocal opposition wasted no time moving to support any claims she might have.

While the nobles continued to throw insults at one another, a few in her general direction, Aislin remained silent. As her grandmother said, it was only a matter of time before King Cullen’s court’s most vocal supporters stepped forward to renounce her claim.

The first, a weasel looking nobleman dressed in bright yellows and greens sneered at the Duchess, his voice cutting through the noise in the hall. “Preposterous girl, you’re an imposter, the line of Osraige is dead.”

Aislin looked at him for a moment keeping her ire in check, part of her wanting nothing more than to hex the man into oblivion. This man’s House, once allies with her family, had switched alliance in the middle of the war.

“I assure you, Lord Gannon of House Bligeaird, I am quite alive and.” Turning her head, she gave a warm smile to a group of men and women behind her. “So are many others of my House.”

Lord Gannon stood back, a small flicker of fear in his eyes.

Like many other minor houses, Bligeaird had used the rise of House Armhaighe as a means to gain more power for themselves. An ardent supporter of the current King, as a reward, House Bligeaird gained control of several merchant houses, which her family used to own.

With the ability to help refill the treasure depleted because of wars, they also gained considerable influence when the current head of their household’s daughter became the current Princess.

Aislin watched as other noblemen stepped forward to try to deny her claim as well. The most vocal had gained considerable influence after the fall of her house. Like House Bligeaird, if Cullen lost his throne, they too would most likely lose everything.

“Dog, hold your tongue.”

Aislin raised her hand, settling down the Kareivis in her entourage who were close to unsheathing their weapons. That was a fight she didn’t want to start, at least not just yet.

Thinking they had the upper hand, the group of the noblemen smirked. Lord Gannon, being from the North, understood the Kareivis language quite well and started to give a sarcastic reply but was stopped by a large half armored man that stood to the left of the King.

The man's eyes had become wide during the confrontation. With a mere look, the once vocal nobles in Cullen court stopped talking. Taking a step forward, he looked at King Cullen for a moment before motioning to the Sorceress Bannerman, and several members of her entourage.

“You are the one the Kareivis call Burvju.”

“I am, Count Volan,” Aislin replied.

The Count nodded then turned to his King, trying to hide the alarm on his face. Aislin watched as Duke Blathmac stepped forward, speaking to King Cullen, who nodded to the Herald to quiet the room once more.

The King of Dáil Riata raised an eyebrow at the strange name and the Count’s reaction. “Well, this will need some explanation, but perhaps another time? Now, let us get back to our previous conversation, Cullen. Duchess Aislin is the granddaughter of the eldest daughter of the late king, no matter what you believe otherwise, she, not you, has a straight line of succession. In other words, she has a better claim to the throne.”

Turning to Aislin, the king gave her a large smile. “In fact, my dear, if you have a need to take that throne, you will have our full support, financially and militarily.”

Aislin sighed as a roar of voices filled the large room while trying to ignore how the King of Dáil Riata's eyes almost glowed at the prospects of a formal military alliance against the Kingdom of Airthir.

She didn’t need a vision to understand the ramifications of such a union. Nevertheless, dreams she had, frightening ones with the land covered in fire and blood.

True, it might allow her plans to move forward at a much faster pace, but the large scale of death and destruction would be, at least for her, unacceptable. In the end, she would be required to conquer half of the known world before the other countries submitted.

Even if following such a path made the defeat of darkness assured, the future of those that survived, especially those with the gift, would be worse. She would need them to enforce the peace until the darkness arrived and afterward they would need to remain to keep the lands from falling into chaos.

Such things would not last, and in the end, there would be even more blood spilled. No, unity through familiar ties had to be the path she would take, even if it meant a sacrifice on her part.

Aislin smiled, with the threat of civil war hanging in the air, she waited for the right moment to pull them all back. As if counting down in her head, she listened to the angry voices in the room as they continued to rise to a crescendo. “Now,” she said to herself before speaking.

“Know this, King Cullen; I have no claim to your throne.”