Chapter 25 #3
Uhtreda smiled yet again—but this time, it was a weary smile that was neither cold nor cruel, nor was it warm and loving.
She seemed merely tired—like a woman who’d long weathered the whims of men.
“You see… she brought me these stones,” she explained, “and assured me you would return the rest.” She fingered the runes, one by one.
“Do you see these marks?” She continued to pet the stones over the moons, and they seemed to shiver slightly, like tiny living creatures.
“So finely etched. There are none remaining of their like. These in particular were branded by Taranis, the thunder god himself.”
“And who is this woman who claims I would return your stones?” Lianae asked, unwilling to part with the ones she had. If, indeed, it was true that they were special, she didn’t relish the thought of leaving them in fitz Duncan’s hands.
The lady Uhtreda shrugged. “She is known by many names, I hear. Some call her the great white witch. Others call her The One. Still others have named her Cailleach.” She narrowed her eyes, peering straight into Lianae’s soul. “My grandmother knew her by another name…”
“And what name is that?”
Uhtreda’s grin revealed straight white teeth. “She was known to my kinsmen as… Merlin. It was she who helped restore my great, great grandfather Uhtred to his seat as Bamburgh’s Earl. I am named for him, ye ken?”
Her eyes seeking proof of her stones, Uhtreda glanced over the table at Lianae’s purse. “You are drawn to keep them close, are you not?”
Lianae tapped her fingers upon the table. “If you believe I have wronged you, lady Uhtreda, why is it that you have come alone, without the aid of your son? I am quite certain if William raised his standards he could decimate Dunràth in but a day.”
“My dear child, I have no delusions about my son. Any mother worth her salt kens the worth of her men. William is not fit to rule, and neither was his father.”
“And still you wed him?”
Uhtreda arched a brow. “As did you with one you ought not love?”
Lianae swallowed the words that longed to emerge. Whatever it was she did or didn’t feel for Keane, it was none of Uhtreda’s concern.
“Lucky for you. Not all women are fortunate enough to wed for love,” Uhtreda said. “And for such a coupling, ye ken, a woman might be branded a shrew?”
As a matter of courtesy, Lianae averted her gaze, for she herself had sometimes spoken ill of the lady.
There were not many who’d been spared Uhtreda’s biting tongue—Lianae and her sister included.
It galled her more for Elspeth’s sake, for now her lovely sister was dead.
Lady Uhtreda had opposed their marriage vehemently, but only this moment did it occur to her to wonder why.
Perhaps she’d known something more about her son.
Or, she might have simply been a shrew, but she was neither shrewish this moment, nor unkind, and the look in her eyes was empathetic.
“I would wager my son did not mean to harm your sister,” Uhtreda said. “He was born with the same affliction his father had. To put it rather indelicately, my child, neither could produce proper seed… without a bit of bed play. I fear your sister Elspeth was dealt a mercy by Bhrìghde herself.”
While Cailleach was the mother of winter, Bhrìghde was her summer sister, whose smile could raise up saplings from the ground by its warmth alone. But not even Bhrìghde could raise her sister from the dead. Lianae’s heart wrenched.
Before she could harden her heart, the woman claimed, “I have a gift to give you in return for my stones… a bit of news…”
The older woman watched her, studying Lianae’s expressions.
“I trust you have not yet visited the tunnels below your keep?”
“Nay,” Lianae said. There had been little reason to visit them as yet. They were mostly used by the men, for they were dark and deep and too dangerous for a woman to venture into alone. They were mostly used for access to the sea, and to house the gaols…
“Why should I trust you?”
Uhtreda shrugged. “If it makes any difference, I come without William’s knowledge.”
“But not without his men?”
The older woman shrugged again. “There are those who would see the Mormaerdom returned to its rightful state. I would not dare travel alone.” Her eyes fairly gleamed, piercing Lianae with their incredible intensity as she lifted her chin and peered down her nose.
If there was aught about her that reminded Lianae of her son, it was that gesture.
“Your gift?” Lianae entreated.
Uhtreda stabbed a finger at the air in the direction of Lianae’s purse. “My charm stones, if you please, then I will tell you what I came to say…”
There were only five remaining, after all.
What good was one without the rest?
Curiosity needling her, Lianae sat back a moment to consider the offer.
Only once she realized it was no offer at all—that her curiosity was worth the price of her few remaining stones—she pinched the purse from its clasp and set the purse upon the table.
Uhtreda reached for her stones at once, her long lean fingers snatching the silk into her palm.
For an instant, she merely squeezed the purse with a look of quiet contentment on her face, and it was odd, for when Lianae blinked, it seemed that a few of the tired lines receded from her face…