Chapter 25

Twenty-Five

There were flurries in the air, white, plump, and dancing with all the promise of winter. And nevertheless, peppered in snow though she might be, Rosalynde wasn't cold, nor had she any need for warming spells or layers of clothes whilst Giles held her so jealously. Even so, she shivered, excited to see her sister, Elspeth.

Looming before her, like a patchwork dragon on its haunches, Aldergh was a monstrosity. From end to end, it must be at least ten-thousand meters long, and evidently, it was built in stages, judging by the multicolored stone and the varied design. Behind it, she could spy the dusky rose foothills of the Pennines, dusted in a fresh layer of snow.

"Art cold?" Giles asked, though he didn't wait for an answer. He shifted his cloak, so it covered more of Rosalynde than it did of him. And she smiled gratefully, her heart thumping madly.

"I am not cold," she said. "But I am… excited. And perhaps… relieved." For weeks now they had been preparing for the worst, fearfully watching over their shoulders. Mercifully, Morwen never arrived, and Giles's strange serpentine sword remained silent by his side. For three long weeks they'd traveled under cloak, armed with daggers, and now… here they were… at long last.

By now, Wilhelm, too, must have reached his destination and perhaps he was already preparing defenses, but there was no way to know for sure.

Rhiannon, too, remained quiet since that night at Neasham, and Rosalynde dared not entreat her. Somehow, her sister's magik was powerful enough to reach across the aether, but hers was not, and she daren't tempt Morwen.

"Soon now," Giles promised, and it was a promise he could easily keep, because they were here now, and neither snow, hail, nor Morwen Pendragon could stop them.

Giles halted for a moment, so they could admire the fortress—the soaring corner towers and the thick curtain wall, expansive enough to protect an entire village. And yet, though it was immense and quite impressive, it couldn't be considered beautiful, with the mishmash of stone and design. But it was a bulwark, to be sure—a deterrence to men who would defy its lord, and, if it could be safe anywhere, the grimoire would be safe here.

And nevertheless, as big as the castel was, it was impossible to imagine her sister had somehow managed to cast a protection spell around its perimeter to shield her people. Once again Rose wished she had been there to witness it—and moreover, she wished she could have seen her mother's face as she'd watched from afar. Even now, Morwen was lamenting the loss of her birds, and it would take years and years and years to replace them.

"Someday, I shall see Warkworth inviolable," Giles told her, squeezing her gently, and Rosalynde smiled, because someday, she, too, hoped to see his beloved home. No matter how small, or how grand, she would love it, because it belonged to Giles de Vere.

Up on the ramparts, men scurried between machicolations, the silver in their armor winking defiantly against the midday sun. Rosalynde sat in awe whilst snowflakes tickled her nose and settled like cold dust in her hair.

"Ready?" he asked

"Aye," she said, nodding, as she gripped the small pommel with white-knuckled fists and Giles set a heel to the courser's hind. As they approached, a single horn-blast trumpeted across the field and her heart pummeled against her ribs.

A warning? A greeting?

Alas, they had no pennant to show, but Giles neither quickened his pace, nor did he slow. He held the trot, until they sat waiting before the castel gates, and then he called to the gatekeeper.

"Who goes there?" asked the man.

"Giles of Warkworth," he said. "I come bearing the Lady Rosalynde Pendragon to see her sister, the lady of Aldergh."

Silence met his declaration, and after a moment of consideration, the gatekeeper asked, "Can you prove it, lord? We have orders to admit no one."

"Call your lord," Giles demand. "I would speak to him."

"Nay," said the man. "I will not."

"Will not or cannot?" asked Giles.

The man remained silent, appraising Giles and Rosalynde with suspicious eyes.

Without a word, Giles swept the cloak off Rosalynde's shoulders, impatiently showing the man his sigil—a lion sejant holding in his dexter-paw an axe, and in the sinister, a tilting-spear.

The man replied, "These are lawless days, lord. I hear Warkworth lies in ruins—its lord murdered. Could be you took the cloak from his dead body."

Up on the ramparts, the sound of men nocking their bows reached their ears, and Rosalynde peered up to see that there were fifty men or more, ready to loose arrows.

"Have you more proof, lord? If not, I am compelled to keep my lord's command. As you have probably surmised, the safety of my lady is my burden."

"I am Giles de Vere," he countered, prepared to argue his case. "Earl of Warkworth?—"

"Wait," Rosalynde bade him. She lifted a hand to Giles and then her head to the guardsman and smiled.

She heard the frown in his voice as Giles whispered in her ear. "My dear, as beauteous as your smile may be, I cannot think it will persuade the man. He sounds like a dungeon master I knew."

"Just you wait," she advised.

Mindspeakingwas not something she did so well with anyone but her sisters, but she had no doubt Elspeth could hear her now that she was in proximity. Despite the lord of Warkworth's acceptance of her dewinity, she was careful not to overburden him. So, of course, she didn't tell him what she was doing, and for a long, long moment, there was no answer—none at all. And suddenly, when Rose feared they might be turned away after all, she heard a voice shouting behind the gates and a smile broke on her face from ear to ear. Elspeth. No matter how long since she'd last heard her eldest sister's voice, Rosalynde would always recognize it. It was the voice of the one person in this world who'd sung to her as a babe… who'd scrubbed her ears and brushed her hair.

"Open the gates!" Elspeth demanded. "Open the gates!" And, without argument, the heavy portcullis began to rise, straining against its ancient chains.

Rosalynde turned to Giles. "See what you can do with a little kindness, my lord?"