The Lady Of The Storm Part 12

The woman stepped forward, unperturbed by Cecily's gawking, and held out her hand. "It has been too long since I last saw you, Cecily Sutton. You have grown into a beautiful woman."

Cecily frowned, for she could not remember the lady, but she rose and clasped the hand extended to her. "I'm sorry, but I don't-"

"Allow me to introduce you," Sir Robert smoothly interposed. "Lady Cecily, meet Lady Ca.s.sandra Brydges, mother to the future Duke of Chandos, and lady to the elven lord of Firehame." He bowed deeply to the elven lord. "Your Most High, allow me to introduce Lady Cecily Sutton, daughter of the widowed Countess of Warwick, and b.a.s.t.a.r.d to one of your people, Elven Lord Breden of Dewhame."

Cecily felt grateful for Giles's warning of her mother's status, for surely she would have been fl.u.s.tered by the introduction. Instead, she calmly curtsied, keeping her lowered position until the elven lord bade her rise.

Lady Ca.s.sandra still held her hand, and helped her upright. "You remember me, do you not? I am the lady who rode next to you on your escape from Firehame."

Cecily had tried so hard to forget that wild flight. The feel of the rain slapping her face, the laboring beast beneath her, the power as it flooded her veins while she called forth the lightning that blasted their pursuers...

"Oh, my dear," said Ca.s.sandra. "Please forgive me. I did not wish to remind you of something painful."

"No." Cecily took a deep breath. "No, it is all right, and best that I acknowledge it now. I owe you my thanks, my lady, and I am grateful I can finally voice it."

Lady Ca.s.sandra patted her hand, a puzzled look on her face. "Well, it is good to see you again, safe and well. How is your mother, the Lady Eleanor?"

"My mother... she was killed when Breden of Dewhame's army invaded our village." Cecily tried not to think of how much she still missed her mother, or she would surely start crying in front of everyone.

Ca.s.sandra's lovely face fell with even more sympathy. "I am so sorry. It seems you have been through more trials than any young woman should have to face." Then she reached out and enfolded Cecily in a warm embrace, her empathy so genuine Cecily could not help but respond to it. Had Lady Ca.s.sandra not already saved her life, she would still adore the other woman. Her anger faded somewhat.

Ca.s.sandra guided Cecily back to her chair, while Giles quickly dragged a velvet settee closer to the fireplace, taking up his station by Cecily's side again as soon as the elven lord Mor'ded had seated himself.

Ca.s.sandra gave Cecily's hand one last pat before she settled her skirts beside the elven lord. She wore a dress of emerald silk, stiff with embroidery about the hems and sleeves, elbow hoops creating such a wide expanse of cloth that her waist looked miniscule by comparison. Her rich brown hair had been artfully braided with tiny silk roses and pearls and then swept into a high crown upon her head.

Cecily felt dowdy by comparison, her best dress of calico now looking more poorly than it had but a moment ago.

Yet she could not feel jealous of the other lady, merely a sincere admiration. Despite the fact that the other woman sat near the elven lord. Cecily could not imagine getting that close to the powerful man without swooning. His mere name struck terror into the hearts of thousands, yet here he sat, directly across from her, Lady Ca.s.sandra's hand gently enclosed within his own. The way he looked at his lady, with a tenderness that belied his reputation, made Cecily frown in confusion.

Mor'ded of Firehame caught her staring, and those black eyes hardened to flinty coal, a mask of indifference falling over his features. His fingers tightened around the black scepter he held, reminding her he commanded more power than she could imagine. With those talismans, the elven lords held the barrier around England, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

With those talismans, they had the power to destroy everything she loved.

For a moment Cecily couldn't breathe. She had feared this meeting with the infamous Sir Robert but had faced it with resolve, intent upon finding her father. But she had never expected to meet with Lady Ca.s.sandra, much less the elven lord himself. Surely the elven lord could not know that the king's most trusted advisor, Sir Robert Walpole, led the Rebellion against him? And yet... hadn't Lady Ca.s.sandra said she had been one of Sir Robert's spies when she emerged from behind the wall? How could that be?

Had Sir Robert betrayed the Rebellion to Mor'ded of Firehame? Or did conspiracies exist that she had no means of understanding?

Cecily glanced up at Giles, who stood as still as a statue, his gaze fixed on some point in the wall across from him, like a servant at table. But his hand stole out again to rest upon her shoulder. She felt prodigiously glad she'd insisted he come. Despite his loyalty to the Rebellion, Cecily trusted him. He would not allow any harm to come to her. The past few days had proven that.

"Robert," said Lady Ca.s.sandra, "you cannot send her after Thomas without telling her the entire story. Do you think I saved her life all those years ago for you to risk it by sending her out blind?"

Cecily stared in confusion at Lady Ca.s.sandra, who smiled at her and said in a loud whisper, "Peephole. Over the fireplace. We heard every word."

Ah. Cecily nodded and tried not to enjoy the sight of Sir Robert squirming in his chair, but she felt secretly glad that he now knew how it felt.

"But we cannot be sure of her loyalties, my lady. How can we trust her with such sensitive information?"

"Because we must. Don't you see that she will go after Thomas whether we help her or not?" She gave Cecily an admiring glance.

"You do not need to question my loyalties," Cecily hastened to a.s.sure her, "for they will always be to my father. And his loyalties lie with the Rebellion."

"So we have yours by default," said Mor'ded. His voice startled Cecily, so similar to Giles's, yet silkier and more melodious.

She gathered her courage and spoke directly to him. "I do not understand, Your Most High. Is the Rebellion in some way aligned with you?"

"You might say that." His arm stole around Lady Ca.s.sandra. "You see, I am not what I appear to be. You do not need to fear me, Cecily."

"Are you sure?"

Mor'ded smiled, the expression changing his face from merely beautiful to heaven-sent. "I am different from the other elven lords."

"In what way?"

Flames of yellow fire suddenly erupted in his palms. He formed them into orbs and tossed them in the air, like some juggler performing at the fair. "I am half-human. Like you."

Cecily narrowed her eyes, expecting some jest at her expense. But why they would do such a thing...

"Allow me to explain," interjected Ca.s.sandra, giving the elven lord a frown. "You see, my dear, Mor'ded of Firehame has been dead for nigh over nine years. The man at my side, the current elven lord of Firehame, is his half-b.a.s.t.a.r.d son. And he is as dedicated to freeing England just as much as I am."

Could it be true? She could not see a trace of humanity in the elven lord who sat across from her... except when he gazed at Lady Ca.s.sandra. "But how?" Cecily managed to ask.

"That is a long story and can wait for another time," replied Mor'ded-or at least, the man who pretended to be him. "For the moment, let us make an exchange. If I douse my flames, perhaps you will allow your little cyclones to calm? They are rather annoying."

Cecily felt her cheeks redden. She had forgotten about them, and apparently they had not stilled when her anger had faded. With a wave of her fingers she sent the liquid back into their decanters.

"What a lovely talent," said Lady Ca.s.sandra. "Have you explored the full extent of it?"

"I can no longer call the power of a storm, if that's what you mean."

"It isn't, my dear. And I believe I understand why that would be difficult for you to do again. I was there, remember?"

Cecily nodded, feeling a bit ashamed. But why else did Sir Robert suggest a mission for her, unless he sought to use that more formidable power?

"Because I am half-human," continued Mor'ded as if he had never been interrupted, "I age at a normal human rate, unlike the elven lords, who age so slowly it is nearly indiscernible to us. But I am beginning to show signs... a wrinkle here, a gray hair there. Not enough to yet betray my charade, but it is a condition we are forced to address."

Lady Ca.s.sandra leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Your human side is what I love most about you."

"Indeed?" He turned and caught a strand of her hair between his elegant fingers. "I thought my magic brought you joy, my lady."

Her cheeks reddened, and for the first time Cecily noticed the ring on Ca.s.sandra's finger. A rosebud of gold that suddenly bloomed into full flower. "Perhaps. But there will always be magic between us, my lord. Of a human kind."

And then as if he could not resist any longer, the dread lord of Firehame kissed Lady Ca.s.sandra, with such pa.s.sion and longing that Cecily felt her face heat. How she wished for a man to feel such pa.s.sion for her. She glanced up at Giles without meaning to, and wondered about the look on his face as he watched the two lovers. Did she see an echo of her own longing? Wishful thinking, indeed. He had desire only for adventure and his cause.

And he refused to meet her gaze.

Sir Robert cleared his throat. "Yes, well. Are you familiar with the power of the other elven lords, Lady Cecily?"

"Of course." She fought to keep the flare of annoyance from her voice-she wasn't some ignorant peasant. Lady Ca.s.sandra obviously felt affection for the leader of the Rebellion, but she could not profess to the same.

"Although the elven lords constantly war and seek to best one another," he continued, "on rare occasions they play together. Long ago, elven lord Roden of Dreamhame desired the elven lady, La'laylia of Stonehame, and crafted her a ring of gold to hold one of the lady's magical gems. Forged within the black fire by the former lord Mor'ded, the might of three elven lords working together gives the ring the power to fool them all, and would take the power of three to uncover the truth of it. Fortunately, in our time the elven lords rarely make an alliance long enough to work together... nor would they in this case, to uncover the magic of what they would consider a harmless ring."

Cecily felt as if Sir Robert wove a bedtime story, and she had to force herself to consider the very real implications of what he said. "Lord Roden wields the magic of illusion and glamour, and Lady La'laylia of Stonehame can enspell her gems for many purposes. So what does the ring do?"

"Ah," replied Sir Robert, s.h.i.+fting excitedly in his chair, setting his white wig of imitation elven locks slightly askew. "This is where it gets interesting. For you see, the elven lady La'laylia fooled Roden of Dreamhame. She convinced him that her face had begun to age, that she wanted to stay beautiful for him forever, so he cast the ring with the illusion of youth."

"I can understand the desire," murmured Lady Ca.s.sandra, her eyes downcast. Mor'ded of Firehame took her hand in his and kissed the palm of it.

"But she had no intention of using the ring herself," continued Sir Robert, pausing dramatically.

Which Cecily considered completely unnecessary. "Then what did she want it for?"

"For her human lover," said Mor'ded, his midnight eyes fixed upon his lady. "It's why she needed the might of three to cast it, for only then would she be unable to see through the illusion herself. Despite the differences between the two races, there are times when love, or at least l.u.s.t, conquers all barriers."

"I daresay," agreed Sir Robert, beaming at Lady Ca.s.sandra. "Lady La'laylia of Stonehame had fallen in l.u.s.t with her half-breed slave, a man captured in her recent skirmish with the lord of Bladehame."

Giles dropped his hand from Cecily's shoulder, and for the first time, neglected his military posture and s.h.i.+fted where he stood.

"She could not bear to see her half-breed lover turn into an old man," said Lady Ca.s.sandra, with a wealth of sadness in her voice. "And so her slave stayed young for his lifetime. But even the elven lords cannot hold back death. La'laylia buried him with the ring still upon his finger."

Cecily surmised the Rebellion wanted the ring for Mor'ded of Firehame, so he could continue to fool the other elven lords with his masquerade. But what of the Lady Ca.s.sandra? If they managed to find this ring, she would turn into an old woman while her lover never aged.

As if Cecily had spoken her thoughts aloud, Mor'ded leaned toward his lady and whispered, "As you have just said, there will always be magic between us, my lady."

Lady Ca.s.sandra glanced up at him, tears in her soft brown eyes, but a brilliant smile blossoming upon her mouth.

"So you sent my father on a mission to rob a grave," said Cecily, turning her attention back to Sir Robert. "Or did Roden discover La'laylia's deception and take the ring back?"

"He tried," answered Sir Robert. "But he could not find where she had buried the slave. And although the ring is unusual in that it can fool even an elven lord, the spell itself is harmless to their rule. The tale soon became lost to time, naught but a recording in the Rebellion's archives, until we realized we might have a use for it."

Cecily expelled a breath, leaning back in the cus.h.i.+oned chair. "Thomas journeyed to La'laylia of Stonehame's sovereignty then, in the land of Stonehame. Did he find the grave?"

"We don't know," said Lady Ca.s.sandra. "I asked my maid, who has a talent for finding... things, if she could locate him. But alas, she could not find the light of his magic anywhere within the seven sovereignties. But her gift is not infallible-surely the vision Thomas sent you confirms this. He is the best spy the Rebellion has ever had. I have faith he is still alive."

"We can be sure of nothing but his last known location," warned Sir Robert. "He met with another contact of ours, a professor of archaeology at Oxford University."

Lady Ca.s.sandra leaned forward. "So you see, Cecily dear, how important this mission is. Not only for your father, but also for the entire country. Many people have suffered to put a half-breed on Firehame's throne, and Dom-the new Mor'ded has already saved many lives. But it will be dangerous. More dangerous than we might know."

"I understand." Cecily smoothed the folds of her skirts, wiping the moisture off the palms of her hands. How simple life had been in the village, the world of the elven lords and their magic seemingly far removed. But now she had been thrust into the thick of things, and for Thomas's sake, she would not turn back. "But it makes no difference. I must still find my father."

Sir Robert nodded, his face still slightly creased with uncertainty, but Lady Ca.s.sandra, and even the dread Lord Mor'ded of Firehame, smiled with complete confidence at her.

"Nay, Cecily," said Giles, suddenly breaking his subservient silence. "You will not."

Seven.

The room went deathly quiet as all eyes turned to stare at Giles. Sir Robert glared at him for daring to speak; Mor'ded of Firehame's black eyes held no expression, but Lady Ca.s.sandra's soft brown gaze glittered with an odd, merry interest.

Cecily looked at him as if he'd suddenly gone mad.

Giles would not allow them to intimidate him, not even the powerful elven lord, who could probably toast Giles to ash where he stood.

Giles had listened to the tale of the ring with growing excitement and foreboding. Excitement for him, who relished the adventure Thomas had become a part of, but foreboding for Cecily. She could not venture into the Lady La'laylia's sovereignty of Stonehame, a land rumored to be as arid and dry as any in England. Cecily could barely withstand the scarcity of water since they left Dewhame.

There might be little water for her magic to call upon, unless she summoned it from a great distance. And how much time would that take if she were in the midst of some danger?

He knew what his leaders intended. They would send Cecily out to test her magic, putting her into danger to see if she could use the power of the storm again. For she could call upon the power of the sky no matter which sovereignty she stood in.

This might be a trial by fire to see how much use she could be to the future of the Rebellion.

But they had not counted on Giles being here. And although he had great respect for Sir Robert's leaders.h.i.+p, Giles did not always agree with his methods on how England gained her freedom. But up until now, he'd never had cause to dispute them.

Cecily, of course, recovered first. "Don't be ridiculous, Giles. Of course I will go after my father. That's why you brought me here, remember?"

Giles lowered his voice, ignoring the others in the room and focusing on Cecily. The lady would listen to reason, and right now, her safety negated any other considerations. "I did not realize the enormity of the task. Nor did I think they would truly send a young woman after Thomas."

She blinked those luminous blue eyes at him. "But you must realize I am best suited for it."

"I realize nothing of the sort. You, my dear, are the worst person to be venturing into Stonehame. It is nearly as parched from mining as Bladehame, and you would have to cross the length of it to get near your ocean again. And you would wither before you managed it."

A flash of uncertainty flickered in her elven eyes, and then that luscious little mouth firmed with resolve. "You saw Thomas. He reached out to me, and I will not turn my back upon him."

Giles swiped a hand across his brow. He would not debate that again. But surely Thomas would not have wanted her to risk herself on his behalf. "I forbid you to go."

She rose to her feet and poked a finger against his chest, the little minx. "You have no right to tell me what to do, Giles Beaumont."

"Do you think I spent the last nine years keeping you safe just to let you toss your life away?"

"Ha. You resented every moment of it. And now you're finally free! Why don't you just enjoy it?"

"Because I..." Giles frowned. Cecily was right. He would finally be free to take on more important missions. Missions that involved the travel and adventure he'd always craved. She would soon be nothing but a part of his past, and he should be glad of it. So why couldn't he let her go?

Giles lifted his chin. "Because you are England's best hope."

"She is indeed," interjected Lady Ca.s.sandra, in a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. "And we would not send her on such an important mission without aid. Sir Robert, I believe we have found the perfect man to accompany her."

The heavy man replied in a low voice. "Do you think this is wise, my lady?"

"Indeed I do."

Giles did not look at Sir Robert to see if he would agree or not, for Cecily's eyes had narrowed along with her lips, with a fury he hadn't seen the likes of since Breden's men invaded her village. "You are the last person I would want to go with."

Hadn't Giles heard those very words from her lips before? It hadn't mattered then and it didn't matter now.