tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance (28 page)

“My aunt and uncle — ”

“They have no power to stop such a thing. Besides,” he added, his tone turning silky, “they are such kind, simple folk. Easy to control. It will be very simple to convince them that this is a far better thing for everyone involved, since you will be a countess now instead of waiting years for me to pass on the title.”

“And what of Mayson?” I demanded. “How do you intend to explain his death?”

A negligent lift of his shoulders, although I noticed he kept his gaze fixed on me rather than looking over to the spot where the body of his son lay. “Simple. I will put him on his horse and take him out to the forest. He will be discovered some time later, lying on one of the paths. A spill as he went riding. An unfortunate accident. No one will question such a thing. Just as no one questioned the death of the girl he was first engaged to marry. After seeing you again at your aunt’s Midwinter gathering, I knew Mayson’s betrothed must be disposed of so he might wed you instead.”

I had not thought I could be any more horrified than I already was, but those words made my heart clench. If I could have backed away from him, I would have, but he held me far too tightly. “You killed her?”

“I made certain she would not live, yes. And then I made the suggestion to your aunt and uncle that Mayson should come to stay with you for the summer, to recover from his loss…and perhaps to heal his heart with another. They hoped for a match with Carella, and so they were all too eager to agree.” Lord Elwyn shrugged, and something about the indifference in the gesture made my blood run cold. “I even told Mayson that he would be free to indulge his…predilections…once he had fathered a child or two with you. But he did not think that would be honorable, so I had no choice but to control him so he would do as I wished. Just as I had no choice now.” If he felt any sorrow or guilt over murdering his son, he certainly showed no sign of it. He merely recited these hideous facts in a neutral tone, hard blue eyes fixed on me the entire time.

Any one of these confessions would have been terrible on its own, but being confronted by them all at once made my stomach lurch with sudden nausea, and my knees felt so weak that I feared my shaky legs would not be sufficient to hold me up. I told myself that I could not afford to lose control now, and made myself focus on the one element in all this that most affected my immediate future. “Do you not think my aunt and uncle will question the father marrying his dead son’s betrothed?”

“I will make sure they do not.” He let go then, the crushing pressure on my arm gone, although the flesh still throbbed where he had held me fast. “Do you not see, Iselda? There is no contingency I have not thought of, no argument you can make to change the situation. You will be a good, biddable girl, and then….” The words trailed off as he raised his hand to stroke my cheek. Revulsion boiled within me, but I stood my ground and did not flinch. “I think perhaps you will see that being married to me is not quite as terrible as you might imagine.”

“No, it will be far worse,” I flung at him. “I would rather die than be your wife.”

“That would be a tragic waste, I think.” Lord Elwyn paused then, and I very much feared he was about to bend down and claim my mouth with his. What I would do then, I had no idea. I had resisted his attempt to take hold of my mind, but in a purely physical contest, I would surely lose.

But, all the gods be thanked, he did not kiss me. He only watched me for a long moment, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. At last he said, “I think it best if you go back to your room now. I have much to do.”

“I will tell everyone what you have done!” I burst out. “You cannot control my mind, and so you cannot control me!”

The smile vanished. He stepped closer and took me by the arm again — in the same place, so his grip hurt even more cruelly this time. “You will do no such thing, Iselda. I have no wish to hurt you, for you are far too valuable, but at the same time I cannot have you interfering…and you might wish as well to think of your aunt and uncle, and what might happen to them if you were to speak of what has happened here. You should also know that this castle is very old, and the dungeons beneath it are still intact, if somewhat overrun with spiders and rats. Would you rather spend the time until our wedding there, or in the comfortable room I have given you?”

I wished I possessed the courage to tell him to go ahead and lock me up in the dungeon, that I would rather rot down there with the vermin than hold my tongue and tell no one of his guilt. Unfortunately, I knew I would do no such thing. I could not bear to put my aunt and uncle in such jeopardy. Also, even though it pained me to admit to such a weakness, rats terrified me, and always had. And, as he had said, even if I did somehow summon the courage to tell anyone else about what he had done, Lord Elwyn would simply go into their minds and make them believe otherwise.

“I would rather stay in my room,” I whispered, hating myself.

“I thought that was what you would say. So come along — I will take you upstairs myself, to make sure you do not get into any mischief.”

Wrung with guilt, I allowed him to guide me away from the loggia and into the castle, where we went directly to the stairs and from there up to my room. He paused with me outside the door but did not open it. From within, I could hear Tarly humming tunelessly to herself. No doubt his lordship did not wish for my maid to see him with me.

“Not a word,” he said in an undertone. “I know you like having your maid here with you, so do not say anything to her unless you want her sent back from whence she came. Understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” I replied. Oh, how I despised the weakness I heard in my own voice! But I knew I could do nothing else, for he had me fairly trapped. Now more than ever I needed Tarly with me, to have her comforting presence nearby when the entire world felt as if it was collapsing all around.

“Good.” He let go of my arm, but briefly touched one of the long curls that fell over my shoulder. “Delicious. Yes, you would have been wasted on my son.”

I could not help shuddering. Lord Elwyn must have seen, for he smiled again.

“Go in, my dear. I may repulse you now, but I think you may change your mind on our wedding night.”

Oh, I could bear no more. I grasped the door handle and turned it, knowing I must get away from him and that horrible mocking smile he wore. He did nothing to stop me, but instead sauntered off down the hallway, no doubt to attend to the next part of his plan…getting rid of Mayson’s body.

A sob rose in my throat then, but I choked it back. I knew I must appear to Tarly as if nothing untoward had happened, that I had only spent the last few minutes speaking with my betrothed before I returned to my room.

I closed the door behind me, and she looked up from where she sat by the window, the stocking she’d been darning laid across her lap. She smiled. “Did you have a nice chat with his lordship?”

“Yes,” I replied. My voice did not shake. I smiled at her in what I hoped was a pleasant fashion as I went to the mirror and paused in front of it, then fiddled with my hair. My hope was that she would think I was fussing with my curls because they had gotten somewhat disarranged while I was outside. In reality, I needed to see my expression, to make sure my features revealed nothing of the horrors I had just witnessed. And indeed, although there was a certain tightness to my mouth, I could not detect anything terribly untoward. I added, “I think Lord Mayson said he planned to go riding. It is such a fine afternoon.”

“Yes, it is,” Tarly agreed.

The sourness of bile rose in my throat, and I forced it back. There. I had just done some of Lord Elwyn’s dirty work for him. The gods help me.

But in the meantime, I knew I would have to think of something to help myself.

Very late that afternoon, as the day was shading into evening, one of Lord Elwyn’s foresters found Mayson’s body on a path that wound through the forest. His horse stood nearby, as if keeping watch over his fallen master.

The household became one of mourning, the mirrors draped with dark cloth, the servants all with black armbands to show their grief. Lord Elwyn himself came to bring me the news, looking very sad and dignified. Indeed, he put on such a good act in front of Tarly that I thought he had rather missed his calling, and should have trod the boards down in Bodenskell as one of the king’s players.

I wept, and Tarly comforted me, and his lordship said I should remain in my room, so I might mourn in private. For some reason, my maid did not see anything strange about this, although she did venture to say that perhaps I should go back to my aunt and uncle’s — a notion Lord Elwyn quashed immediately, telling her that I was certainly in no state to ride, and that I needed time to grieve. These arguments seemed to be effective, for she nodded and said of course, and that she would be here to watch over me.

In a way, I wished I could have been alone, for perhaps then I would have had a better opportunity to think of what I should do next. Trying to be helpful, she hovered, asking if I wanted some tea, or whether I should lie down, or perhaps read a little to try to take my mind away. At last I did lie down and shut my eyes, but that was more so I might have a moment’s peace.

I needed Reynar. Where was he? I tried to tell myself that of course he could not appear here in my room in the middle of the day, even wearing one of his magical disguises. No, he would have to wait until the quiet hours of the night. Then he would come to me just as he had the evening before, and we would devise a plan together. In that moment, I did not much care how good that plan might be, only that we must have one. He would take me away, and then we would tell everyone of Lord Elwyn’s perfidy.

These thoughts calmed me somewhat. I pretended to sleep, and nibbled at the tray of food Tarly brought up around dinnertime. And after that, I did sleep, but fitfully, starting awake at every sound, certain it must be Reynar come to save me.

Only…he did not. I awakened in the depths of the night and saw the waning moon as it slipped just beyond the window during its journey to the west. Everything was utterly still. I realized I was the only one in the room, and tears of despair stung my eyes. I had no idea where Reynar was or what had happened to him, but clearly he would not be coming to my rescue this night.

And I cried myself to sleep just as the sky began to turn pale grey with the coming of dawn.

The next morning, I did what I could to cure my puffy eyes, dabbing them with cold water. Tarly made no comment about my appearance, for of course what young woman would not weep in the night when she had just lost her betrothed?

Everything I had brought with me was utterly unsuited for mourning, since they were all summery gowns of pale blue or green or pink. Drearily, I told my maid that I did not much care what I wore. With a frown, she brought out the blue and silver dress I had worn at Adalynn’s wedding.

“If it is all right, my lady — ”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I suppose blue is a slightly soberer color than green or pink. It will have to do.”

She laced me into the dress and then fussed with my hair. I could tell she kept herself busy because she did not know what to say to me. Indeed, I hardly knew what to think. Some of the night’s terrors had fled with the coming of morning, but I knew my time was running out. Tomorrow Tarly would put me in the borrowed wedding gown with its pearl trim, and I would be married to Lord Elwyn.

No. I knew that would not happen, just as I knew the sun would rise in the east every morning. And yet…with no word from Reynar, and no one else to help me, how could I possibly secure my freedom?

Someone knocked at the door, and Tarly went to open it. Outside was one of Lord Elwyn’s footmen, although I could not recall his name.

Well,
I thought drearily,
you will have plenty of time to learn all their names if you do not somehow manage to extricate yourself from this horrible situation.

“His lordship wishes to see Lady Iselda,” the footman said.

“Lady Iselda is not well this morning,” Tarly began, but I forestalled her by rising from my chair.

“I will see his lordship,” I said calmly. I knew I could not create a scene. The best thing to do was to make Lord Elwyn think he had me beaten, that I was cooperating with him. “We have both suffered a loss. It is only natural that we should meet so we might commiserate.”

“Of course, my lady,” she replied at once, but I saw the way her brows pulled together, as if she was trying to determine whether some subtext to my words existed, some hidden meaning she could not quite decipher.

Head held high, I went out to meet the footman, who led me downstairs. I could not help but think of the last time I had descended this staircase. Oh, if only I had not goaded Mayson the way I had during our meeting! Perhaps then he would still be alive. Better a sham marriage with him than this travesty which Lord Elwyn wished to foist upon me.

We walked down a long corridor, one hung with forbidding portraits of generations of Bellenders. Or perhaps it was only my own gloomy state of mind that made them seem so brooding, for in general, they were quite handsome men. I refused to think of the earl as one so favored, however, for his evil deeds quite canceled out any beauty that might be seen in his features.

I had never been in this section of the castle before, and I wondered where the footman was taking me. But I did not dare to ask.

We stopped in front of an imposing set of double doors, fashioned from dark oak and carved with patterns of oak leaves and acorns. They were part of the sigil of the Bellender family, and so it did not surprise me to see them here now.

“He is waiting for you, my lady,” said the footman as he opened the right-hand door for me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, and went in.

The chamber within was quite large, with an enormous fireplace of gold-veined black marble at one end. On this warm summer day, it sat cold and unused, although garlands of roses had been draped over the mantel. I realized that large urns of roses and trailing vines of ivy stood sentinel at the room’s four corners, their scent filling the air. Otherwise, the place did not seem to contain much in the way of furniture, save chairs carved of oak with the same leaf-and-acorn motif as on the doors, placed at regular intervals between the mullioned windows. Half of the draperies on those windows were pulled shut, and so the chamber seemed dim and somehow stifling.