Authors: Janelle Taylor
“Prince Alric met Catriona and desired her greatly. He was young and handsome and full of life, and he stole your mother’s heart though he came from another tribe. He lingered with us for months just to spend time with her. The day came when Alric left Albany to seek his father’s permission to wed Catriona. King Bard-wyn, of Cambria and Damnonia, refused; he ordered his son to forget her, the daughter of a barbarian.
“But Alric was stubborn, and enchanted. Against the wishes of his people and the command of his father, Alric took Catriona as his wife under our laws. Astrid and Giselde begged Catriona not to leave our tribe and land, but she was in love and could not hear them. Alric promised Catriona and our tribe that his father and people would love her and accept her after they saw her. It was not to be.”
Giselde inhaled deeply. Tears misted her eyes. “I wish Alric had obeyed his father, or Rurik had refused his plea. Then Catriona would still be alive. She was a terrible loss to our people and her family. No one has forgotten her. King Bardwyn was angry, and believed he had been betrayed by his son, but because Catriona was carrying Alric’s son King Bardwyn was forced to allow them to marry under his law.
“Cruel tales flowed freely about Catriona’s Viking ancestors, and it did not matter that she was an innocent. To give their people time to forget Alric’s impulsiveness, King Bardwyn sent Prince Alric here to rule Damnonia for him. The King hoped that while exiled in Damnonia, the Cambrians would only hear of Alric’s good and prosperous deeds, and not view the foreign princess at his side. But the journey and hostilities were so rough
on Catriona that she lost their son. She was so unhappy that she returned home to Albany for a long visit.
“You cannot guess the torments that your mother, and your grandparents, and your great-grandparents, endured because of whom they chose to love. I warn you now, little one, take care with your choosing.”
Giselde’s cheeks were flushed with intense emotion, but she continued. “The Norsemen attacked our land once more. It was a bloody day and nearly all were slain. Both Catriona and I and others were rescued by Prince Briac, now the King of Cumbria, whose land borders Albany. Briac was gentle with Catriona, and his kingdom was peaceful. We remained so long that Alric feared Catriona would never return to his side. It would have been best if she had not, but that day is past.
“When Catriona returned to Damnonia, she brought me with her. Many people were angry at her for bringing another barbarian into their land, for news of the Viking raids along the coast had traveled faster than we had; many feared and mistrusted us, and said dark winds followed us. They said her presence in Damnonia would bring the Vikings down on it too. But Catriona begged Alric to let me remain at her side, and so I did. For many years they doubted she could bear more children; then you were born, and everyone rejoiced. You and Catriona won the people’s hearts, and the dark past vanished. How happy we were until your mother died.”
Giselde warned gravely, “You must share these secrets with no one, Alysa, no one. Never mention such days to your father or others, or ask questions about that time. The past is often dark and painful, and dangerous. They think I am dead, or if alive, far away in Albany. Believe me, Alric and Isobail will become angry if they learn I am so close, and they will prevent us from seeing each other again. I am a reminder of things they wish buried forever; they would view me as a threat. Never betray me to them, little one, with good
intentions or by carelessness. Or they will have me… returned to Albany.”
“I have given you my word, Granmannie, so you know I will keep all things between us a secret,” Alysa vowed. “But you must not fear and mistrust my father so deeply: He would never harm you. He is kind, and he is very ill these days. For the past year he has grown weaker each month. Today I came to beg you to come to the castle to heal him. Will you, Granmannie?”
Giselde patted her hand as she shook her gray head. “I cannot, Alysa. His illness is of his own making, and my skills are powerless to help him. I have known Alric a long time, and many bad things have passed between us. He would rather confront the Evil Beast himself than face me. There can be no peace between us again, so do not dream foolish dreams or make perilous gestures of truce. My healing arts are of no use to Prince Alric.”
“Why do you refuse to tell me what happened between you long ago? Surely it is only a misunderstanding that can be resolved. Let me help,” Alysa urged.
“There is nothing you or anyone can do; some words and deeds cannot be changed. If such was possible, you and’ Isobail would be as mother and daughter. Keep your word and let things remain as they are. The day will come when peace will rule our hearts and lands again.”
Giselde had told her more this morning than ever before, so Alysa asked, “Did my father do something terrible to you or my mother? Do you blame him for her death?”
Giselde realized such knowledge could put Alysa in danger so she responded, “Despite the shadows over them, Alric and Catriona were very much in love and were happy for many years, until Evil crept into this land. Evil hungered to conquer Damnonia. Evil claimed your mother’s life, and Evil is still at work in this land.”
Giselde shuddered as if very cold, and her face waxed paler. “Stir the fire and add more wood, Alysa; the air grows chilly for old bones.”
Alysa did as she was told and probed deeper, “Is that why you live here? To find a way to battle this Evil? Is that what you fear, Granmannie? Come to the castle; my father will protect you.”
Giselde answered, “Your father cannot even protect himself, little one.”
“Who is behind this, Granmannie? What do they want? And why can my father and his knights not defeat them? You possess great skills; can you not help us?”
Giselde gazed into the entreating expression of Princess Alysa and saw Catriona reflected there. Tears dampened her eyes, and breathing became difficult. She pressed twisted fingers to her chest where slicing pains knifed viciously, and she willed the pain to halt. She could not tell this cherished girl of her suspicions, her knowledge, her plans. Alysa was too young, naive, and brave; and there was no guessing what the young woman would do with such information.
Giselde’s response was guarded, “I cared for Catriona from her birth to her death, and I did the same for you until that black day when I was compelled to desert you. You are the most important thing in my life, little one. I could not protect your mother from Evil, but I will find a way to protect you. That is why no one at the castle must know I am nearby.”
“Many know you are here, Granmannie. You go to the villages to heal the sick. What if Isobail learns of you? She will force Father to punish you, for he is too weak to battle her. You must not remain here or grow such plants; it is forbidden by law.”
“Isobail cannot harm me, little one. I am very careful, and the villagers need me. Yea, they tease about me, but they do not betray me, and few could ever guess who I truly am. My appearance has changed greatly
since I lived in the castle nine years ago. My hair is no longer thick and shiny, and its brown has turned to gray. The sea blue of my eyes has faded and they are drab like old cloth. See how much fat lives on my once slender body. And my skin,” she remarked, laughing sadly, pointing out each area as she disclosed her changes, “my skin has more wrinkles than a freshly crushed leaf, and its color is as yellow as the primrose, not the pretty pink and white of the May apple, as yours is and mine was. Even my clothes are rags, not silks or fine linens, and no jewels adorn my body. I doubt even your father and Isobail would recognize me today.
“If I could heal your father my little Alysa, I would go with you and do so. It is impossible. His fate is in the hands of the gods whom he has offended,” Giselde said, though her gods remained nameless because her religion forbid her to call them by name in fear of omitting or insulting one, and incurring their wrath. She had not lied to Alysa; even if she knew what was wrong with Alric, she could not help him. Alric had chosen his allies, so he must depend on their dark powers and aid now…
But Alysa was saying, “… if only you were at the castle with me.”
“Your handmaiden Thisbe takes good care of you, little one. Besides, I am too old for heavy chores and steep castle steps. I have returned to the way my people lived before I came here with my Catriona. Do you wish me to live in the castle and be as miserable as you are?”
Alysa frowned and shook her head. “I wish I could live here with you. Malvern Castle has not been home since Mother died. Even my cherished servants Piaras and Leitis do not act like themselves anymore. And Isobail handles everything for Father; it is as though she were our queen rather than Father’s second wife. If only Father had not brought Isobail into our castle as Mother’s waiting woman. Mother did not need her;
Mother had you to take care of her. I am sure she did not like Isobail or want her around. Neither did I, Giselde. Perhaps I was overly jealous, but sometimes Father played with her son Moran more than he did with me. I was glad when Moran left Malvern Castle to live at Sir Kelton’s far away.”
Alysa sighed. “I must pay for such wicked feelings, for my mind has begun to play tricks on me. I feel cold eyes on me each day, eyes I cannot see. I sense peril where I can find none. I feel lost, and alone, and afraid, Granmannie. I do not know what I shall do when Moran returns home. His training period is nearly over; soon he will become a knight. Is it always so hard to have stepbrothers and stepsisters?” A cloudy expression filled Giselde’s eyes, but she lowered her head to conceal the curious look from Alysa’s gaze. “If Isobail can gather enough money and land for her son before his squire’s days end, perhaps he will not return to Alric’s castle.”
“I am certain she will,” Alysa said, “for he cannot become a knight without them, and Moran would never remain a squire past twenty-one.” Alysa was glad that Isobail’s son, who frequently had battled her with words and fists, had left the castle at age seven to become a page at Sir Kelton’s: a knight and vassal for Lord Orin, who was a feudal lord for her father. A page’s training began at seven or eight, squire training at fourteen, then knighthood at twenty-one, if a man had land and money to support himself and his duty.
Giselde observed Alysa as she was lost in thought for a time. Giselde suspected what Moran truly desired: to become Prince Alric’s heir, making him the next ruler of this territory and possibly the next king after Alric’s father, King Bardwyn of Cambria, the kingdom that owned the land of Damnonia. Too, from reports by Piaras—the castle’s trainer of squires and knights—Moran had made it apparent during his occasional visits
that he desired Alysa. That event could never take place, never…
“You must return home, little one. I have herbs to prepare before they wither and become useless. I must warn you to beware of Isobail and her evil, for it grows darker each day. Days of great peril are ahead. A fierce conqueror is hungry for our lands and will do all manner of evil to obtain them. A wicked alliance has been formed by those you know, and it will cause great havoc in your life and lands. There have been other warnings in my dreams,’ little one, warnings that frighten me. Speak to no strangers, Alysa, for you are the child of two royal bloodlines from Cambria and Albany. To conquer, you will bring an end to the peace. Beware of a man with sunny hair and leafy eyes who wishes to make you and this principality his. He, like all his family, is greedy. His words will drip with tainted honey. His sweet smiles will conceal bitter feelings and rank secrets. He will pretend to be your only hope, and he will make you many false promises. He will ask for your love and trust; do not grant them. His evil bloodline must never mingle with yours, or you will be doomed forever.” When Giselde gave Alysa this warning about Moran, she had not even seen the green-eyed man in many years and did not know that his once blond hair had darkened steadily to light brown…
“I do not understand, Granmannie. Who is this wicked man? When will I meet him? Where? How will I know he is the one you speak of?” Alysa’s lips overflowed with frantic questions. She knew Giselde had knowledge that she did not fully understand. “You must not allow such evil to threaten us, Granmannie.”
Giselde sighed. “My powers are meager next to those who desire these lands and revenge.”
“Revenge?”
“Long ago many wicked things happened in this land and in others, little one. Each day more wickedness is
born. For such deeds, many yearn for just vengeance; others crave blind revenge. If Evil is not conquered and forced back into its dark cave, more will suffer and more will die. Go; there is nothing you can do but watch and wait. If you remain here, others will come to seek you. If I am slain, there will be one less to battle Evil.”
“Isobail is part of this Evil, is she not?” Alysa asked. “I will keep my eyes and ears on her and those around her. I will tell you all—”
“Nay!” Giselde shouted. “Her advisor Earnon is a cunning wizard. No doubt it is his potent eyes that you sense upon you each day. You must do nothing to arouse their suspicions. Isobail has little use for the heir of Alric and of Bardwyn, so she ignores you for now. Do not make yourself a threat to her plans. Hear me well, my child: my powers are meager when compared to Earnon’s; do not challenge him to destroy both of us. He is totally loyal to your stepmother and will do anything she asks of him—anything, Alysa,” she said.
“Are Isobail and Earnon the ones to fear? Are they the reason you live in hiding? Did she frighten you away from the castle long ago, or do you also fear my father?”
“I can say no more, my child. Please, Alysa, obey me in this,” the old woman pleaded. “I know of things you do not, and cannot be told. Help will arrive soon and free all from this Evil.”
“What help, Granmannie? What evil threatens us?” Alysa rubbed the old woman’s suddenly cold hands with her warm ones. She felt Giselde tremble, causing her apprehensions to mount. “Is my father in danger too? He is so weak these days. He hardly knows me. How can we defeat this danger?”