Chapter 2
“ T he earl is coming.”
Liana’s mother always got like this when Lord Ellsworth visited. Their stone cottage was larger than most in the village, courtesy of the very man coming this eve. But since they had no servants, it was up to Liana to tidy everything as her mother began her ritual.
After adding wood to the hearth as her mother laid a large cloth over the table that served both as a space for daily tasks and their rune work, Liana moved into each of their sleeping rooms. Though the earl could not see this space with the doors closed, her mother was very particular about every nook and cranny being as tidy as possible.
Knowing it was fruitless—her mother could be most stubborn—she attempted one last time to sway her thinking.
“Mother,” she said as the woman Liana both loved and feared lit the final candle. For some seers, candles were unnecessary for reading runes. For her mother, they were an essential part of the ritual. A way for her to focus her energy.
“Aeliana, if this is about your reading?—”
She ignored the stern warning. “When my runes were drawn, why did I see Sowilo paired with Ingwaz when you did not?”
“As I’ve said, many times now, there can be differences between our readings but that does not negate their larger meaning.”
Liana knew all too well she was not as skilled as her mother. But she’d been practicing at every opportunity, crafting her skill while presenting herself to the rest of the village as an herbalist alone, just as her mother served as the village’s healer. She was not the same girl that had made that grave mistake many years ago.
“How oft have you told me that if I do not trust my readings, they will never completely crystallize? I believe the situation to be more fluid—” She stopped at her mother’s sharp gaze.
“The ‘situation’ you refer to is a succession crisis that has seen our country endure more than fifteen years of struggle, of battles and death and anarchy. This is not a small matter to be taken lightly. It could change the course of England, Aeliana.”
In other words, it was too important for her to become involved. She squared her shoulders. “The runes do not lie,” she said, repeating her mother’s words.
“But can easily be misinterpreted.”
It was the same argument they’d had since Liana—though no one asked her to do so-—cast her own runes asking the same question the earl had of her mother. Would Queen Matilda succeed in taking the crown from King Stephen? Though it was not the first time the earl had sought counsel on the matter with Sir Darien off fighting for the cause, it was the first time her mother had a clear vision.
Admittedly, Liana’s was less clear. She still did not fully understand her own reading, but knew it differed slightly from her mother’s.
“Lock the doors, quickly, before he comes.”
In other words, the argument was over. Despite the fact that their cottage was built deep within the woods, all doors would remain locked, all shutters closed, during the earl’s visit. It was the same every time. He came with just one trusted guard, at night, under the cover of darkness, just as his ancestors did before him. Liana had always thought it odd that her mother did not, instead, visit the castle. In Liana’s mind, doing so would bring less risk of being caught. But it was “the way of things,” according to her mother. Just as the earl could not be seen coming to them, Liana and her mother could not be seen at the castle. To most, they were simply a healer and her daughter living on the fringe of the village. But that did not mean she and her mother were immune to whispers that hinted at more.
That hinted they might, indeed, be practicing witchcraft.
With everything prepared, Liana waited as she always did, at the window. Peeking out, ready to open the front door of their cottage when two figures appeared out of the mist that was ever-present on their isle. Even when the rare sunny day made an appearance, the Isle of Ely was still shrouded in a mist as thick as their secret purpose.
The smell of burning wood and candles from within was mixed with the lingering one of freshly baked bread. Liana had been about to partake in a late-night slice, having been too busy throughout the day to pause and eat, when her mother announced the earl’s visit.
Her stomach groaned in protest just as the figures appeared. Courtesy of a full moon, she could see them clearly. One. Two. Three? That was odd. The earl always came with Sir Bradon, a man whose family had served Ellsworth for as many generations as Liana’s own. There were none other the earl trusted with such a secret, that he took counsel from a seer. Who could possibly be accompanying them?
She opened the door, more and more curious as the figures approached. As always, they were hooded. She recognized the earl at the front since he was much larger than his guard. Sir Bradon followed, but the third man was nearly as tall as the earl.
“My lord,” she whispered as he stepped inside. Both he and the guard greeted her, but the third man did not; his head remained down. It was only when she closed the door behind him that all three lowered their hoods and the identity of the man was revealed.