Shadows and Light (47 page)

She’d spent most of the time before and during the evening meal watching them. Especially Aiden. She’d seen the sign of nerves as he’d rubbed his hands on his trousers when Ari and Neall had ridden up to the Clan house. She’d seen the strong emotions in his face and in his eyes when Ari shyly approached him — and realized it was meeting Ari last summer, however briefly, that had begun the journey that brought Aiden here now. She’d seen his delight when Morphia greeted him — and his relief when Morag came up to talk to him. She’d listened as Aiden and Padrick talked about traveling through the Mother’s Hills — and laughed together about someone named Skelly and his sweet granny.

And she felt an ache in her heart that he hadn’t arrived a month earlier when he could have walked down a forest trail and looked into the wise, dark eyes of an old stag.

Padrick joined her, took her hand in his. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The light squeeze of her hand told her he knew where her thoughts had gone.

She looked at Caitlin and Evan, sitting on old blankets with a pile of other children, protected within that half
circle of benches filled with adults. The men who formed the outer part of the circle were all armed. They’d found no nighthunter nests close to the Clan house, but she knew there were still some out there. She could still feel a wrongness in the woods. So they would be cautious, careful.

Aiden and Lyrra began with an instrumental piece, followed by a bright little tune. Then Lyrra spent a couple of minutes teaching the children the chorus to another song.

They were all laughing and applauding at the end of that song when a shout of alarm had the adults jumping to their feet.

Ashk’s heart pounded in her chest as a dark horse cantered toward them, chased by one of the youths standing watch over the corralled horses. Like the armed hunters, she scanned the trees and the shadows cast by the torchlight for any sign of danger — and sensed nothing.

The horse wove his way between people who prudently stepped aside until he came to a stop at the edge of the blankets filled with children.

“I don’t understand how he got out,” the youth said, panting from the chase.

“It’s all right.” Aiden’s voice was a blend of embarrassment and resignation. “He just wants to hear the music.”

The dark horse tossed his head in what might have been a nod of agreement.

The youth trotted back to the corral. The adults settled back in their seats. The horse pricked his ears.

“Back, Minstrel,” Aiden said firmly.

Minstrel hung his head, positioning his ears to create a woeful expression.

Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose. “Two steps back.”

One step. Two steps. Still looking woeful.

Aiden picked up his whistle. Minstrel lifted his head.

Like the rest of them, Ashk watched with delight as Minstrel arched his neck and did his trotting-in-place dance to Aiden’s tune.

When the applause died down, Aiden said, “Take a bow, Minstrel.” His eyes widened and Lyrra sprawled on the bench in gleeful laughter as the horse extended one front leg, curled the other, and lowered his head.

“I don’t think the Bard was expecting that,” Padrick whispered.

“No, I don’t think he was,” Ashk whispered back. Aiden’s effort to control his expression was as entertaining as anything else so far.

They listened to funny songs and love songs and, finally, at the end, another instrumental piece that was quiet and peaceful.

Padrick slipped an arm around her waist, brought his lips close to her ear. “He’s a good man, but he can’t win this battle alone.”

“I know.”

“Will he meet the Hunter?”

She didn’t answer until the last notes of the song faded on the air. “He’ll meet the Hunter.”

A
iden wandered toward the sturdy, makeshift table that held the Solstice feast, curious to see what Ari was doing. She kept glancing around while she held her hands close to the sides of one dish after another. Maybe whatever she was doing meant they’d be eating soon. He hoped so. The scent of the food was making his mouth water and his stomach growl.

He was still a few feet away when Neall stepped out of the cottage’s kitchen door, saw Ari, and frowned.

“You’re doing too much,” Neall said, striding over to Ari.

“It’s just a little fire to keep things warm,” Ari said defensively, turning to face him.

Neall rested his hands lightly of her upper arms. “If you do too much, you’ll be tired by the time you finish the dance and you won’t enjoy the entertainment Ashk has planned afterward.”

Ari smoothed nonexistent wrinkles on the embroidered shirt she’d made for him. “It’s our first Summer Solstice here. I want it to be perfect.”

“It won’t be perfect, Ari,” Neall said with a smile. He kissed her. “But it will be wonderful.”

Wondering how to move away without drawing attention to himself and ending their quietly intimate moment, Aiden saw Padrick approaching.

“Neall, I wonder if I can borrow Ari for a few minutes. Ashk has a couple of things she needs to discuss with her.”

Ari glanced over to where Ashk was sitting with a few other women, including Lyrra and Morphia. “She just
wants me to sit down and rest — like someone else I know.”

“That may be so,” Padrick agreed. “But I was sent to fetch you, and I, as a dutiful husband, am here to ask you to allow yourself to be fetched.” He shifted his face into a comically woeful expression. “If I go back empty-handed, I’ll get a pillow and blanket tonight instead of kisses and cuddles.”

Ari huffed in an effort not to laugh. Then she noticed Aiden. “Does the Bard have an opinion he wants to express?”

“Indeed I do,” Aiden replied. “Your gown is lovely.” Ari blushed a little and grinned. Aiden grinned back at her.

Padrick and Neall just looked at him.

“You’re supposed to have a way with words, and that’s the best you can do?” Neall said.

“Since Ari isn’t arguing with
me
, I’d say I’ve done very well,” Aiden replied.

Padrick and Neall looked so disgruntled, Ari laughed. “Very well, Padrick. I’ll not undermine your influence as husband or baron.”

Padrick offered his arm to Ari, winked at Neall, and led the young witch to where Ashk waited.

“More ale, Bard?” Neall asked.

Aiden lifted his tankard in a salute. “I’ll make do with what I have, thanks. I want a clear head tonight. Do you know what Lady Ashk has planned?”

Neall shook his head. “Well, there’s a traditional dance this Clan usually does at Harvest Eve, but Ashk decided to do it tonight as an entertainment for the Clan’s guests. That’s why she requested a fire pit in the meadow to hold a small bonfire instead of the brazier Ari would normally use tonight.”

They both looked back at the table wistfully.

“If I round up the children, they’ll become impatient if they aren’t fed soon,” Neall said.

“Which means the rest of us will get to eat, as well. That sounds like a fine plan.”

With a mischievous grin, Neall headed out to the part of the meadow where several children were playing some kind of odd game of tag with Merle.

Aiden drank the last couple of swallows of ale, draining his tankard. A Fae Lord. Oh, the face was certainly human, but there was no denying that Neall was a Fae Lord. A young Lord of the Woods. And a fine young man.

“Blessings of the day to you, Aiden.”

Aiden turned. Morag stood a few feet behind him.

“Blessings of the day, Morag.” Before she could speak, he shook his head. “You made your apology, and it was accepted.”

“I hurt you,” Morag said softly.

“Yes, you did. But I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.” He looked over to where Ari sat with the other women, laughing about something. “She’s different here.”

Morag shook her head as she moved to stand beside him. “No, she isn’t.”

He turned so they both stood facing the meadow, watching Neall and Merle herd laughing children toward a trough where they could wash their hands. “She is. She’s bloomed.”

“She’s accepted here — by the Fae, by the villagers. Here, she’s a Daughter of the House of Gaian. Here, she’s wanted for herself, not for what she has or what she can do for someone else.”

“And she has love’s jewels.” Aiden sighed. “You made the right choice, Morag, giving them both the chance to get away from Brightwood … and the Clan there. Lucian cared for Ari. I’m sure of that. But he wasn’t in love with her, and I think he always would have found her … wanting … in some way, would have wanted her to be something other than who and what she is. He would have cared about her, would have continued to be her lover, probably would have
sired a child on her in order to assure that there would continue to be a witch at Brightwood, but he wouldn’t have refused an invitation to a Fae lady’s bed when he went to Tir Alainn — and he never would have looked at Ari as if she contained all the joy in the world.”

“For Neall, she does.”

“I know. And she loves him.”

“Yes, she does.”

He didn’t want to talk about Lucian or Brightwood or the past anymore, so he was relieved when he saw Ashk and the other women walking toward the table — and he noticed Neall and the children approaching from the other direction, with Merle tagging along, looking hopeful. Studying the children, Aiden suspected the young shadow hound had good reason to feel hopeful about getting a share of the feast.

“Oh,” Morag said. “Ashk said she had the cooks roast a couple of chickens, especially for you, but she wasn’t sure if you preferred breasts or thighs. For some reason, Lyrra found that very funny.”

Remembering Ashk’s last comments about chickens and eggs, and seeing the way she was smiling at him as she approached, Aiden felt his face warm a bit. “Wonderful.”

“I’m glad I’m not playing tonight,” Aiden said, putting an arm around Lyrra’s waist as he watched the musicians check their instruments

“No, you’re not,” she said, laughing quietly. “If they lent you an instrument, you’d be in the middle of them.”

“I don’t know the songs.”

“When has
that
ever bothered you?”

It did bother him a little. There was music here that had never been heard beyond the western Clans. The fault of those who had been the Bard before him. His fault since he’d become the Lord of Song for never having visited the western Clans until now. “I’ve played with them for the
past few nights. Tonight I’ll simply enjoy being entertained.”

Oh, a few minutes of hearing the melodies of the songs they were playing tonight was all he would have needed to follow along with them, and play well. He didn’t tell Lyrra that he’d asked about playing with them tonight, and the musicians had looked uncomfortable and told him Ashk wanted his full attention on the entertainment.

Lyrra gave him a skeptical look, but didn’t have time to say anything before Ashk hurried up to them.

“Come along,” she said, looking at Lyrra. “I’ll show you your place for the spiral dance.”

“My place?” Lyrra said nervously. “I can’t participate in the dance. I’m not a witch.”

Ashk studied her for a moment. “You have woodland eyes. That means you claim some kinship to the House of Gaian. Tonight, that’s all you need.” She grabbed Lyrra’s hand and pulled her away from Aiden. “Come along. The steps are quite simple. Neall! Come along now!”

“Neall doesn’t have woodland eyes,” Aiden said to Padrick as the Baron of Breton came to stand beside him.

“No, he doesn’t. But his mother, Nora, was a witch. So he’ll join the dance.” Padrick smiled as he watched Ashk demonstrate the dance steps for Lyrra. “Ashk used to dance with Nora for the Solstice. She’s been looking forward to joining this dance again. Having Neall and Ari living here means a great deal to her.”

Not because they’re useful
, Aiden thought as he watched several of the Fae take their places to form a large, loose circle,
but because they are dear to her. For her, they’re like the favorite nephew and his beloved wife, finally returned home
.

He heard the drums set a slow, measured beat to indicate the dance was about to begin. His heart pounded a little too quickly. He’d seen the spiral dance last Solstice, had felt the magic in Brightwood answer that dance. But
Ari had danced alone that night, and the power they’d felt when she drew all that magic to herself and released it again had frightened the Fae who had come to her cottage pretending to be human.

“You’ve a hungry look about you, Bard,” Padrick said. “Did you have enough to eat?”

There was a hunger in him that had nothing to do with a full belly. He hadn’t realized how much he’d craved seeing this dance again when he knew what to expect. “Hmm?” Aiden said, feeling impatient with conversation that was distracting him. “Yes, I had plenty. Wonderful food. The only thing I’ve tasted that was better was some brown bread we’d had at a village on the way here.”

“Brown bread?” Padrick asked sharply. “Where was this?”

“A village. We took a road off the main one and had a meal in the village tavern.” Aiden frowned. He didn’t want to be impolite, but Ari was walking over to the circle; the actual dance would start any moment now.

“You stopped in Wiccandale?”

“Didn’t have a sign posted anywhere, so I can’t tell you which village it was.” Aiden turned his head slowly and stared at Padrick. “Wiccandale?”

Laughter danced in Padrick’s eyes. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“Know?”

“It’s a wiccanfae village.”

Aiden’s mouth fell open. “Are you saying it’s
an entire village of witches?”

Padrick coughed politely. “Only the women are called witches.”

“Mother’s mercy,” Aiden said weakly. An entire village of people who could trace their roots back to the House of Gaian. No wonder the village had the same feel as an Old Place. With the appearance of Black Coats in the west, no wonder they were wary of strangers.

Remembering the woman and the little girl, Kayla, he realized the Black Coats weren’t the only danger to those people. Would
anyone
be able to rouse the Clans to protect the witches and the Old Places if they knew there was a place where they could obtain another witch? The Fae might be unwilling to enter the Mother’s Hills, but a village in the west? Oh, yes. Dianna wouldn’t think twice about ordering the men of her Clan to ride to Wiccandale and take a couple of young witches. She wouldn’t care if those women were willing or not, as long as it freed her from being the anchor that held the shining road open at Brightwood. She would justify it as something owed to her because she was the Lady of the Moon.