The Lady Of The Storm Part 25

Cecily swallowed a reprimand at the lad's choice of words. The wisdom in his blue-green eyes bespoke a knowledge of the world beyond his years. She couldn't imagine what he'd seen and heard, living in this foul place. She thought of the poor slave girl and shuddered.

"I'm going to steal..." Cecily paused. She might be making a mistake. But it would take her years to explore all of the pa.s.sages within the palace walls and she could not bear the thought of living here that long. She needed his help. She would trust her instincts. "The scepter."

He snorted a laugh. Not quite the reaction she had expected. "Ah, fiddle, yer as mad as Fletcher."

"The general? What do you mean?"

"He talks about it to his water demons all the time."

"Water demons?"

"The nymphs who visit him in his pool. The Imperial Lord created them with his magic, and now they pop up everywhere throughout the palace. 'Tis all the water, ye see."

Cecily nodded, pretending that she did, although she had never spoken to one before, despite her affinity to water. Perhaps they preferred the company of men. "What does Fletcher tell them?"

"Oh, fer a time he blathered that he could wrest the scepter from the Imperial Lord and rule the world." Jimson gave her a wry smile. "Then I'm guessin' he tried to touch the thing, cause he quit talkin' about it fer a time and twitched whenever he saw the scepter."

Cecily frowned. That did not bode well for her. But she knew she held more power than General Fletcher, she sensed it somehow. And at least the scepter had not annihilated the general for touching it. Perhaps she might be able to try to accomplish her task without losing her life.

But either way, she had resigned herself to the consequences.

"But lately..." started Jimson.

Cecily leaned forward. Obviously the lad wasn't used to divulging his information to anyone other than Lord Longhurst. Despite her own leap of faith in the boy, he still didn't quite seem to trust her. "Yes?"

Jimson scrunched up his face. "Does Lord Longhurst know what yer planning?"

Cecily had yet to find a time when she could speak with the lord alone, and besides, she had doubted the wisdom of a frank discussion with him. "I'm not sure. Sometimes it's best not to know everything. That way, if something should go wrong-"

"Ah, don't fret yerself over his lords.h.i.+p. Should he or his lady be in danger, I'll hide us all with me mist and spirit them outta the palace without anyone being the wiser."

"Except the elven lord."

He shrugged. "I 'spect he'll be too busy to pay us much mind."

"You shall help me, then?"

"I didn't say..." Jimson rocked back on his heels. "I'll have to ask his lords.h.i.+p if it will be all right for me to help ye. If he thinks it's best, aye, I'll find ye a way into the monster's den."

The boy rose to his feet and Cecily quickly did the same, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder when he started to walk away. "Jimson, please. What had Fletcher started talking about lately?"

The boy trembled beneath her touch. Surely he wasn't frightened of her? But no, he turned and gave her a crooked grin, allowing her hand to stay on his shoulder.

"The general started down a different path of mad talk a few months ago. He said as how the Imperial Lord sensed someone with strong magic... someone who shoulda' been sent to Elfhame years ago. And then that someone disappeared."

Cecily held her breath. The blood in her veins actually seemed to stop flowing. "Did they know who that person might be?"

"Nay. The Imperial Lord decided it was only a bit of wild magic. But the general, he went on about finding the half-breed as if he really existed, and using him to defeat the elven lord. Stupid, eh? For why would anyone who holds the scepter need Fletcher anyway? He may have the magic of a champion but he sure don't have the good sense to go with it."

Cecily dropped her hand from his shoulder. Jimson sighed and started down the pa.s.sageway and she followed a bit blindly, wondering if she could turn this new information to her advantage... or if she should flee the palace immediately.

When they entered the dressing room and closed the wooden panel behind them, Cecily could hear Lady Longhurst's sweet voice calling out for Ellen. Cecily glanced down at Jimson, but he'd already disappeared in a cloud of mist, and so she went to answer the lady's summons.

"Oh, Lucy," said Lady Longhurst. "There you are! I don't know where everyone has gone off to this morning." Then she lowered her voice. "Although I have my suspicions."

Cecily's stomach flipped. She did not want this kind, vacuous soul involved with the business of the Rebellion. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she murmured.

"That Ellen. She's in love, don't you know?"

Cecily shook her head.

Lady Longhurst placed a hand over her heart. "I told her that handsome stableboy would just use her then cast her aside, but it appears she did not listen to me."

"It is... difficult to deny one's heart, my lady. Despite the risk of being hurt."

"La, I suppose you are right. There was once this soldier-well now, never mind that. You shall just have to go and fetch her, Lucy, despite the impropriety of it. I shan't be able to leave the room until she fixes my hair, and I have a most urgent meeting with Lady Sherwood."

Cecily frowned. She had taken the steward's advice and avoided the public rooms and castle grounds. She had ventured into the realm of the n.o.bility only once, when the lady had forgotten her fan and Cecily knew that Lady Longhurst-being Lady Longhurst-would be distraught without it, and Ellen was nowhere to be found.

The girl had probably snuck off to be with her lover. Cecily tried not to be envious.

Cecily had managed to catch the lady just before she entered the blue withdrawing room off the main hall, and handed her the fan without Lady Longhurst even quite realizing it. She'd quickly retraced her steps but had felt the gaze of someone upon her, and turned to face the lascivious blue eyes of General Owen Fletcher.

Cecily had picked up her skirts and fled, resolving never to go beyond the bounds of the servants' areas again.

"Perhaps you should send Jimson to fetch her," suggested Cecily.

"Good heavens, and let the young man know of his sister's wantonness?" Lady Longhurst shook her rather tousled-looking head. "No, my dear. This calls for the delicate touch of another woman. Go to the eastern stables, the smaller one, mind. I daresay you will find Ellen in the hayloft, sleeping off a night of pa.s.sion." She t.i.ttered. "It's not the first time she's been late. Let's hope it shall not be the last."

Lady Longhurst was a romantic. Cecily should have known.

The mirror near the door of their chambers reflected a few cobwebs in her hair, so Cecily quickly tidied herself before she left the rooms, then s.n.a.t.c.hed up a hooded cloak despite the warm day. She used the servants' entrance to reach the palace grounds, and stood for a moment within the herb garden, trying to visualize the mental map she had memorized.

Straight ahead would be the main stables. To the right, the smaller one.

Cecily pulled the hood of the cloak farther down her head to hide within the shadows, painfully reminding her of Giles. Her breath hitched but she started to walk confidently forward, choosing a path that took her a bit closer to the practice grounds, where the soldiers displayed their sword work, and gave a wider berth to the pavilions that had been spread on the lawn for an outdoor gathering of the n.o.bility.

A strong breeze blew across the land, and Cecily clutched her hood to prevent it from flying off her head, peeking around the edges of it to stare at the wonder about her. Cl.u.s.ters of crystal boulders littered the grounds, waterfalls tumbling and frothing over them to pool in flower-sheltered glades. Mud hampered the fighters in the practice arena; a layer of water glistened just beneath the gra.s.s where the n.o.bles gathered, a makes.h.i.+ft platform protecting silk skirts and damask shoes from damage.

Even the gravel path that Cecily walked squished wetly, and time and again she trod over small bridges where streams bubbled along underneath. Off in the distance, geysers of white water split the air and enormous fountains sprayed sparkling mist with the glitter of tiny jewels.

Power flowed through Cecily. She breathed in the humid air and reveled in the feel of it. If her father hadn't hated her, she might have felt as if she'd come home.

She caught a whiff of the rank odor of the stables, then the breeze s.h.i.+fted and brought the perfume of the n.o.bles along with it. And then the scent of honest sweat as the wind s.h.i.+fted yet again.

If the breeze hadn't also brought the song of his devil-blade to her ears, she might never have known he was here.

She could not mistake the sound of that sword.

Cecily turned. And froze. Neither could she mistake the grace of the man as he fought. He had stripped to his breeches and boots, and his tanned chest gleamed in the morning light, s.h.i.+ning with a layer of moisture from his exertions. He slashed and parried while his blade hummed, against several other men as the rest watched with mingled looks of disbelief and fascination.

Only Cecily suspected that he fought more to keep his blade from delivering a killing blow than he did against the pathetic maneuvers of the other fighters.

"Giles," she breathed.

The wind tore off her hood and set her cape to billowing about her, but she barely noticed. The sound of clas.h.i.+ng steel rang in her ears. The distant laughter of the n.o.bles sprang up now and again.

Why was he here? Surely it could not be a coincidence. Or had he joined Breden of Dewhame's army with the rest of the villagers, then? Hoping to make a new life amongst old friends?

No. He had come to protect her. She knew it as surely as she knew the feel of water within her hands. He would deny their love, deny the right to marry her, but he could not stop himself from keeping his vow to protect her.

Perhaps it had become a habit he could not break.

Cecily smiled. For the first time since leaving London she felt fully alive, the sight of Giles's flowing white hair, the muscles in his forearms bunching as he swung his sword... she could suddenly see with a clarity of vision that she thought she had lost. Every fiber of her being tingled with newfound awareness- "Does the sight make you long for a man, Lucy?"

Her pulse jumped. She turned to face the general, his faceted blue eyes-so like her own except for their coldness-fixed upon her face.

"It's why the ladies like to break their fast so close to the practice yard." He stepped closer and leaned down until she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheeks. "They enjoy the sight of half-naked, powerful men. What a delight to discover the prudish little Lucy does as well."

"I do not-"

"Oh, come now. Your secret is safe with me. Indeed, I long to share many secrets with you."

Cecily could hear the calls and whistles of his friends within the shelter of the pavilion. Had she become a challenge? Were his advances so rarely refused that she'd become an embarra.s.sment to him?

He grabbed her roughly up in his arms and kissed her.

Cecily tried not to retch. She fought against his hold, but despite her elven strength, he appeared to match hers and she could not free herself.

Giles. If he had recognized her... If he saw this b.a.s.t.a.r.d a.s.saulting her...

Cecily gathered the power to her fingertips and called to the water swirling along the path. She snaked tendrils up the general's legs, beneath his coat and around his neck. She gave the liquid more strength by chilling it to near-ice.

She learned quickly.

Owen Fletcher suddenly realized he couldn't breathe.

He released her and Cecily staggered a bit, horribly aware that she could no longer hear the sound of clas.h.i.+ng blades. She turned and saw Giles come to an abrupt halt at the edge of the muddy yard.

She met his gaze for a timeless moment, those delightfully human green eyes speaking to her more clearly than words ever could.

Giles wanted to run Fletcher through with his sword. He controlled himself only because the general had shown enough good sense to let her go. But he barely kept the urge under control, for his devil-sword hummed for Fletcher's blood.

Cecily knew the power of Giles's blade, suspected the strength of the general's power, and did not want to find out if Giles would survive the battle.

She spun, and fled. Catcalls rang out from the pavilion, but she did not spare a glance for the n.o.bles. Instead she turned once to look for Giles. He had returned to the yard, to the center of another mock-battle. Cecily nearly shook with relief as she slid behind the garden wall.

Thank heavens she'd had the presence of mind to keep her magical defense against Fletcher un.o.btrusive. She doubted that anyone else besides Giles knew how she'd escaped from the general's embrace. Except the general, himself. She s.h.i.+vered at the look of shock, and then cold calculation, that had been on his face. She must avoid him now more than ever.

She did not remember Ellen until she returned to Longhurst's rooms and found the girl already there, collapsed upon the velvet settee.

"Lady Longhurst?" panted Cecily.

The girl waved a weary hand. "Gone to meet with the court gossip."

"His lords.h.i.+p?"

"Off to his own business, whatever that may be."

"Capital." Cecily collapsed on the sofa beside her. "You have a piece of hay in your hair."

Ellen giggled. "That's not the only place, I'm sure. Why are ye breathing so hard?"

"I was running."

"From what?"

"The champion. General Fletcher."

Ellen sat up, her face becoming serious. "Ach, that's a man to avoid, Lucy."

"I know. But Ellen..."

The girl's reddish brows rose.

"There's someone else."

Ellen snorted.

"What I mean to say is... where would a girl meet a man? Privately. With a guarantee that no one else might... overhear them?"

"That's the way of it, then?" Ellen sighed. "Ye have to be careful, Lucy. A man can be slippery when ye are tryin' to catch him."

She was one to talk. Cecily waited.

"Are ye sure?"

Cecily nodded. Enthusiastically.

"Well, unless he works in the stables, I don't recommend it for a tryst. That straw pokes ye in places ye don't want poked."

Cecily frowned. "Where, then?"

"I know of several places where the n.o.bles go. There's always some love affair or another going on. 'Tis like a game to them, methinks."

"I don't want to risk being seen by anyone at court."

"Not if Fletcher is after ye." Ellen firmed her mouth. "All right then, best to get ye another man and the general might leave ye alone. I'm only telling this to protect ye, mind." With her conscience apparently clear, Ellen brightened again. "We servants have our own trysting places. There's a cave behind the big waterfall-the one near the north gardens. Do ye know where it is?"