Chapter Twenty-Five
Edan
Another early riser joined them. Dyna yawned as she came down the staircase, grabbing a blanket to wrap around herself before settling into a chair.
“Why are you awake?” she asked. “We were all up late. You should be asleep.”
“Yet none of us are,” Alasdair said. “You’re no different. We were discussing the meaning of iron blood. Is that not what the banshee said to Edan? What does it mean?”
The door opened and Connor entered. “I saw the torchlight. They’re still asleep over there, and I know Emmalin and I made a delicious broth last eve.”
“Da,” Dyna said, “I cannot believe you are cooking.”
“Just using my talents wherever I can to be helpful,” Connor replied.
“I have no desire to go into a faery hill or greet a banshee. I’ve fought my battles, this one is yours.
Though I might wish to watch the next trip, as long as there is no screeching involved.
Besides, someone has to keep Daran busy. That bairn is full of liveliness.”
Alasdair added, “And Daran loves being with you. We’re talking about last eve when the banshee told Edan he had iron blood. Know you anything about it?”
“Nay. I’m sorry but I don’t. Come with me, Ailith. We can fill the goblets.” The two moved to the far side of the gathering room, where the cooking area was.
Dyna gazed at the rafters for a few moments. As the others worked near the cooking area, Dyna let her blanket drop and asked Edan, “Did anything happen to you when you were young that you are aware of? Any major bleeding episode? Falling from a horse? Anything that nearly took your life?”
He paused, then shook his head. “Nay, nothing that I’m aware of. Why? You can gain iron blood from a fall?”
“Nay, but iron is a material reputed to keep the fae at bay. You saw the iron nails in the front doors at Dunyvaig, I’m sure.”
“I noticed them. Why do they do that?” Ailith asked from the far side of the room.
“Because iron and rowan both keep the fae at bay. Once the changeling fear takes hold of people, they put nails and rowan everywhere.”
Ailith pressed, “Does it work?”
“We need to ask Lia,” Dyna replied. “I’m not an expert on faeries and faery lore.”
After Connor and Ailith delivered the broth, Connor took a seat. Looking at Edan and Alasdair, he asked, “When are you returning? And what are your plans?”
Edan wasn’t about to wait. “We need to go right away. We have the banshee hairs we need. Why wait?” Heilyn had been gone so many days, he wasn’t even sure how many.
Six days of cold stone and creatures that were not what they seemed.
Or was it seven days? One day rolled into the next without delineation.
He’d stepped into an unknown world, and he wished to be free of it. Time to move ahead.
Alasdair, Connor, and Dyna all shook their heads subtly, but it was Dyna who spoke. “In my opinion, the first thing we do is wait for Lia. And the second thing we must do is decide how many warriors and archers we’ll be taking.”
“We’ll need warriors?” Edan asked.
Alasdair added, “I agree with Dyna simply because we’re dealing with the Unseelie, something we know little of.
You cannot believe what Gruin said, he definitely lied about something.
We need Lia’s opinion on two critical things.
First, I’d like to hear what she thinks the banshee meant by ‘iron blood.’ What does it mean for Edan?
Will you be unable to go inside the fae hill, or perhaps be the only one allowed in?
Will Gruin have an army of soldiers waiting inside, and if so, how many?
That’s more than two questions, so I say we don’t move until we’ve all eaten, made a plan, and consulted Lia for her advice. Dyna?”
“I agree wholeheartedly. We have to wait. I have no desire to go in blindly against a group of warriors with fae weapons. My arrows might not even work in the underworld. Who knows what dangers await us there? Honestly, it scares the shite out of me after seeing that banshee with its shifting body, the pecking ravens, and the screech that nearly stole our hearing. If not for Ailith, we might not even be talking or listening to each other right now.” Dyna moved to the other side of the room to set oats in a pot, readying the porridge for the group.
She fussed about a bit, setting the honey out and finding bowls hidden in a cupboard.
She held one up for the others to see. “Magni and Morgan have the best dishes. Where do they get them?”
Edan thought back to how he’d felt when the ravens attacked him.
He’d had no idea how to fight off the malevolent birds.
They’d appeared like bees from a hive, protecting their queen, and all he could think to do was cover his eyes.
Part of him wished to get back to the faery hill as fast as possible, but another part respected their caution.
To go in and retrieve Heilyn would mean moving blindly into the unknown, and visions of his father gave him pause.
“I’ll agree to wait. My father was verra frightened by the fae.”
Alasdair tapped his fingers against the side of his goblet. “I think we need to go over everything you recall about your father. And I’d do it with Lia. Anything he ever said could prove important now that we know he struck a bargain with Gruin.”
Dyna said, “When my daughters awaken, I’d like to see if they can perceive anything new. I’ll see if I can make a silent plea for Lia to join us. We definitely need her help.”
“Agreed,” Alasdair said.
Dyna called over to her father from the kitchen area, still fussing with oats and cooking the porridge. “And what is this? A new spice?” She held the rolled stick to her nose and sniffed carefully, her eyes widening. “I like this. I’m putting this in my porridge.”
Connor moved over to her side. “Morgan was telling me about that. Quills of cinnamon. They like it in their porridge. A merchant paid him with a crate full of spices. Salt, cinnamon, a nob of ginger, and some pepper. I’ll try the cinnamon.”
John burst into the room, smiling and eager for a fight. “Da, I’m going outside to meet Morgan and Magni before they take the ships out. We’re going to see who’s best.”
Alasdair said, “The porridge will be ready in an hour. Go practice your sword skills, since you may be using them by the morrow, but take Edan with you. He wishes to practice.”
Edan nodded to the group. “Many thanks to you. I’m ready, John.” He followed the man outside, Grant appearing from the doorway behind them.
As soon as he stepped outside, the sound of the lapping waves on the loch brought a vision to him, the vision of a giggling toddler running away from him, something Heilyn loved because he would always chase after her.
“I cannot catch you. Slow down, Heilyn!” And she would run faster, but this time, the vision changed.
Coming out of the forest opposite him stood Ailith, her arms held wide as his daughter ran into her warm embrace, snuggling against Ailith’s chest. If he only had one wish…
John’s voice cut through the vision, taking Edan’s sword in hand and studying it. “Has my sire seen this?”
“Nay. Why?”
“Because he wouldn’t let you fight with it. It’s small, and the blade is a bit dull. He would only use it to train young lads. Morgan has a few others. I’ll get you one.”
John turned swiftly and moved to an area near the stable with unused weapons, while Grant unsheathed his blade.
Grant stood nearly as tall as Edan, bearing the chiseled jaw Edan had seen on many of the Grant men. “How many summers are you, Grant?”
“Three and ten.”
“Yet you know how to swing a sword that heavy?”
“I’ve been swinging a sword since I was eight. My sire insisted because of the sapphire sword.”
“The sapphire sword? What exactly is that?” Edan had heard it mentioned before but had no idea of its significance. Could it have anything to do with the Seelie and the Unseelie?
John returned, handing Edan a much larger sword. “Swing it over your head and get a feel for the hilt before you try anything else.”
“How many summers are you, John?”
“Seven and twenty. I’ve been swinging for as long as I can remember. My grandfather used to carve the finest wooden swords for us when we were toddlers, and we’ve progressed considerably since then.”
“Who is your grandfather?”
“Alexander Grant, chieftain of Clan Grant, fought in the Battle of Largs against the Norse. His sons were Jamie, Connor, and Jake. Dyna is Connor’s daughter, and my sire, Alasdair, is Jake’s son, though Jake has passed on.
” John grinned. “It’s a lot to absorb. Ask anytime, I don’t mind repeating our lineage. ”
“You both come from a long line of warriors then. I don’t have many skills.
Be kind to me.” He moved into a small clearing, giving himself room to lift the new weapon and adjust to its weight.
He thought he could handle it, grateful for all the times he and Roger had moved boulders and stones around their clachan, Arne often fetching the cart, but Edan preferring to carry them himself.
When he was ready, he stepped closer to John, nodding his willingness to begin.
Once they’d started, John began his tale. Edan focused on his swings but listened because this was something he needed to know in order to save his sweet daughter.
“Many years ago, the queen of the fae came to Grant’s grandmother, Avelina, and gave her the sapphire sword, instructing her to protect it from evil and to marry soon after. Once married, the couple was to hide it together until it was needed in future years.”
John whirled, bringing his sword over his head, but Edan easily blocked the blow.
“Good,” John said. “Next time, turn your blade at the end of your thrust and you might be able to knock my weapon out of my hand.”
Then John continued, recounting Grant’s family history. “At that time, Grandmama had five clans come to her assistance against the evil that wished to take control of the sword. The evil failed, they hid the sword, and all was peaceful for over two decades.