Chapter 24

24

N ot that it mattered to her anymore, but Aislinn had no doubt Brenna would be proud of her today. In preparation for the day's council meeting, Aislinn had woken early and sat patiently as Fia chose her an appropriately fine gown and wound her hair in braids and curls, fixed with pearl pins. A crescent cloth headdress encrusted with pearls and aquamarines kept her hair back from her face, and a long string of pearls accompanied the gold arrow and sword insignia of her house affixed at her throat.

Looking at herself in the mirror, the first thought Aislinn had was, I look like my mother.

This certainly wasn't a bad thing. Whenever she faced a situation like this, she wanted to emulate the elegant Lady Róisín as much as possible.

Still, her reflection plucked at her nerves—she didn't look like herself.

For now, that's just the way it had to be.

The pearls offered cool little points of sensation as she walked with Fia, Sorcha, and her two guards to the council chambers. Not unpleasant but almost distracting. Weighed down in finery, Aislinn told herself to think of it as armor, a shell to protect her vulnerable innards.

Let them see and judge the shell.

Sorcha offered a nod and Fia a small smile before they stepped up to the doors. Her guards opened them wide, and, holding her breath, Aislinn swept inside.

The gathered vassals and yeomen went silent upon her entrance, but rather than being met with annoyance, expectation hung heavy in the air. As heiress and the sole Darrow in residence, this meeting didn't start without her.

Faltering only a step, she made for the seat at the head of the long table. Fia came to stand to her side and just behind, holding onto documents she may need later. Sorcha found a place to stand with other yeomen, the seats around the council table reserved for the most senior nobles in attendance.

Aislinn stood at the head of that table and made herself meet the eyes of as many as she could. Padraic Bayard was there, of course, he never missed a chance to visit Dundúran. Earl Starley had come, no doubt in the hope of seeing Lady Lisbet. Baron Morraugh had unfortunately come, but then, it was said he looked for any excuse to escape his estate after his wife's passing. Several vassals and yeomen who hadn't been at the summer meeting were here now, bringing the total to at least fifty, well above the last meeting.

Come to see the heiress squirm.

Aislinn refused to let the thought further than that and the flush from overtaking her face.

"Never let them have more than you're willing to give," her mother would say.

She was about to take her seat when the doors opened again.

One of her guards leaned into the room. "My lady, there's…"

Aislinn caught sight of a swishing black cloak. Pulse kicking, she said with more confidence than she felt, "Yes, let him in."

After another moment of hesitation, the guard opened the door wider, and in walked Allarion.

A gasp resounded through the room.

"My lady, what's the meaning of this?" demanded Lady Lisbet, her concern and bulging eyes speaking for those gathered.

"Lord Allarion, you are welcome here," Aislinn said instead.

Bowing, Allarion said, "Thank you, my lady. I'm honored to be here amongst my esteemed peers."

His footfalls, while quiet as a mountain cat's, were thunderous in the perfect silence of the council chamber. He quickly picked Sorcha from the crowd and made himself comfortable along the wall beside her. He took in the stunned council with a mild expression, although Aislinn thought he might have found the whole spectacle amusing.

Aislinn took her seat and folded her hands on the polished table. When no one else moved, she was forced to tell them, "Please, take your seats and let's begin."

Those with chairs slumped and slipped into their seats, gazes flicking between her and Allarion, as if they didn't dare turn their attention away for too long.

"Lord Allarion has taken possession of the Scarborough estate. As such, he is well within his rights to attend this meeting."

Several councilors gawped at her, reminding her of fish caught on a hook. She allowed them a few more moments with their surprise, but eventually her impatience won out.

Let's get on with it and be done.

"Now, as you—"

"He's fae! " insisted Padraic Bayard, standing up to emphasize his point.

"Yes, my lord. I know."

"He can't…he shouldn't…" Bayard threw what Aislinn considered to be an imminently stupid frown at the fae in question.

"As you all know, we have King Marius's blessing to integrate interested otherly folk into our demesne. Allarion has the deed, signed by myself and my father."

"But, my lady," tried Baron Burgoyne, one of their vassals to the south, "to allow an otherly such rights…"

"No one has claimed or wanted Scarborough for decades. Allarion is doing us a favor by occupying and restoring the land. And what's more, the sale has helped Dundúran cover this year's dues. Once my brother is dealt with, I will be giving you the difference between this and last year's dues."

That earned a round of interested mumbles. It was true what her father said sometimes, "Money speaks, even if it has no mouth."

"Now," she continued, "I won't hear more argument about it. The otherly folk in the Darrowlands have worked hard to integrate into our communities. From all accounts, they are good neighbors. My father has always upheld the Darrowlands as a demesne of freedom and dignity for all. All includes humans and otherly folk."

"But a fae…" croaked Earl Starley. "They are loyal only to their queen."

"If I may?" Stepping forward, Allarion waited until Aislinn nodded in assent before explaining, "Not all are loyal to the queen. Dissent exists in her court. I wanted a life far from this intrigue and am grateful to have found a place as peaceful and good as Scarborough. I have pledged my fealty to Liege Darrow and the heiress, as have you all."

Allarion left a stunned silence in his wake as he retook his place beside Sorcha, whose own eyes had gone wide at his speech.

Clearing her throat, Aislinn said, "Thank you, Lord Allarion. Now, shall we begin?"

A few murmurs and disgruntled huffs met her question, but ultimately, the council settled in.

With Fia taking notes for her as she usually did, Aislinn led them through the meeting, finding the familiar rhythm of it once she got them on task. There were harvests to report and winter droving sites to negotiate and criminal cases to rule on. Alarmingly, the margraves reported an increase in thefts in their market towns.

"Do we not often see such increases with winter coming?" Aislinn asked.

"We do, my lady," said Margrave Holt, a pretty woman even younger than Aislinn who'd taken the mantle of responsibility from her mother at the tender age of ten. "But this is earlier than we'd usually expect. If it continues at this rate, many of my farmers will struggle this winter."

"Do you have any ideas for why there's such an increase?"

Margrave Holt blinked, as if she hadn't been expecting to give her opinion. Aislinn blinked back, waiting. Who else better to give an opinion than her?

"My sheriffs suspect there is disquiet in the borderlands. There are rumors from the orcish territories that one of their chiefs is trying to unite them under one banner to check the Pyrrossi incursions along their borders. This and your father's efforts may be pushing those who'd normally hide out in the borderlands further north."

Interesting . If this was true, it was all the more reason to call her father home and have him reassess his strategy.

"While you're here in Dundúran, I'll have you write a report of the problem and your suspected reasons for it. I will ensure this information gets to the capital. If Pyrros and the orcs mean to war with each other, Eirea must be prepared."

"Of course, my lady."

"Upon your return, please gather what information you can from your sheriffs and have those farmers affected compensated. We can also increase patrolling in the area if you think the show of force would help."

Margrave Holt grinned with relief. "It would, my lady. Thank you."

"Good. You may also keep anyone caught in the act through the winter, and we will try any cases in spring."

This drew approval from the other margraves, and the tenor of the meeting seemed to warm. They discussed the coming winter as well as any large construction anyone planned to undertake in spring.

Although she'd been dreading the meeting, Aislinn didn't look forward to the end she saw drawing closer. She kept her hands tightly knitted together to keep them from trembling, and listening to the landholders kept the worst of the nausea at bay.

Still, with the issues dwindling and the landholders beginning to look at the door in anticipation of the coming banquet, Aislinn knew she could avoid it no longer.

"There's one last thing we must discuss."

The vassals settled back in their seats, though she could tell she only held about half their attention.

"I have received credible information that my brother Jerrod is attempting to raise a mercenary force along the Caledon border. He aims to march that force and retake Dundúran."

The air in the room cooled, the gathered landholders looking on in shock.

"We don't know what, if anything, will come of this. Jerrod has his name only to barter with. I'm seeking more information and have already sent for my father to return. However, in the event it is needed, I hope I can count on all of you to send what forces you can to defend the Darrowlands."

"Of course we will, my lady," Margrave Holt was quick to say.

"A liege lord hasn't summoned a force in nearly forty years," said Baron Morraugh.

"And let us hope that remains true. I don't believe Jerrod will be able to rally much of a force to him, but I want to be prepared. I also want to be honest with you all. When there is more information, I will share it."

Her heart went reedy in her chest waiting for some sort of reaction.

The landholders looked amongst themselves, the more senior barons and earls no doubt calculating just how much they might be asked to contribute. Aislinn knew such a command would be unpopular—perhaps even more so than the raised dues.

The fact remained, though, that she was heiress of the Darrowlands, and everyone here owed fealty to her father. She could summon their forces to defend Dundúran.

How many would actually answer was the real question.

Aislinn's stomach twisted painfully.

Jerrod wasn't popular with the vassals, but she knew more than a few who may choose a strategy of attrition. Prevaricate until it was clear whose side would be victorious. Perhaps there were even those who disliked her enough to side with Jerrod.

Aislinn looked around the gathered landholders, that sinking dread inside her growing heavier.

She didn't know. She couldn't say with surety who they would support.

Of the fifty or so here, she felt confident about only ten of them.

Were it her father, there wouldn't be any questions, of course, but this wasn't a question of her father.

"Thank you for your time," Aislinn said. She stood, giving permission for the others to as well. "I don't mean to worry any of you with this, only to inform. Dundúran has met and crushed every threat to her. She will again."

"We're sure of it, my lady," said Earl Starley, surprising her.

"Thank you, my lord." Forcing a smile, she gestured for the doors. "Now, I think we've earned our feast."

The landholders burst with noise, murmurs and groans and cracking knuckles. They moved as an unhurried wave for the door, groups gathering and chatting as they exited the council chamber two or three at a time.

Aislinn took further questions from a few of her margraves, as well as several of her younger, inexperienced yeomen.

"It's only me, the wife, and the babe," said Samson Brightweather, a yeoman from the north. "I couldn't contribute much, but perhaps I could spare a horse?"

Warmed by the offer, Aislinn was quick to reassure him, "Please don't worry yourself. It's the nobles and other landholders who keep retainers who will send reinforcements if they're needed. You focus on preparing for winter."

"Thank you, milady," Samson sighed in relief.

When he and the lingering landholders finally left, Aislinn slumped into her seat, sighing herself. She could hardly move her stiff fingers and hid her trembling hands in her skirts.

"I may be of some help," said Allarion, stepping forward with Sorcha. "I am ready to defend my new home. But I must caution you, my magic is still…unsteady. For now, I fear it is only my sword I can offer."

"That's very generous. I hope I don't have to take you up on your offer, but…"

"I know nothing of your brother, but I do know that those who feel they have had something stolen from them find it difficult to let it go. Let us hope your brother is wiser."

Aislinn managed a weak smile in agreement, but she feared her own concern was plain on her face.

Jerrod wasn't that wise. That he'd run away at all and sought the help of mercenaries showed just how stupid he could be.

No, what Aislinn worried over was just how much his stupidity could cost them all.

"Let us hope," she said. Even if it was for naught.

What she did know was that this was the last time she let Jerrod's stupidity hurt her, their father, and the people of the Darrowlands. Brother or no, blood or no, Aislinn was done.