The Well of Shades (69 page)

“Saraid?” Eile whispered,
her voice rasping and dry, the single word an immensity of effort. “Saraid! Where are you?” If she could have, she would have screamed, but there was something wrong with her voice. Her shout came out as a murmur, her desperate cry a whisper. “Help!” she yelled, and felt the word shrink to a little weak thing before it left her lips. “Saraid,” she whimpered, crouching against the wall, hugging
her arms around her shivering body. “Saraid, be brave. It’ll be all right. Be strong, Squirrel. Mama’s coming.”

T
UALA WAS GONE
. Bridei had told her he would accept her decision, and he was always true to his word. Now, holding his daughter in his arms as Dorica showed the wet nurse the alcove where she and the nursemaid would sleep, the way to the privy, the places
where clean clothing and fresh water and spare blankets could be found,
Bridei wished he had no need to move before Tuala came home again. If he could just stand here by the window, watching the sky, cradling the warm bundle that was Anfreda, it might be possible to endure the time of waiting without breaking apart.

The wet nurse was called Tresna; she was the wife of a blacksmith. Apparently
she had milk enough to feed her own babe, a strapping, rosy-cheeked girl, and Anfreda as well. As for keeping silent about the queen’s absence, Dorica had dealt with that in her usual manner, discreetly and effectively. Certain improvements would be made at the smithy. There would be a place at court for an elder daughter, now coming up to thirteen; a good place, not as a kitchen maid but in the
sewing room or, if she proved apt, as a nursemaid. Tresna was calm and quiet. She took Anfreda from Bridei’s arms and bore her away, making little soothing sounds.

Then he had nothing to do; nobody to hold. He bent to pat Ban and fondle his ears. Then he called Aniel and Tharan and, as the men of the search party gathered in the yard after an early breakfast, the king and his councillors settled
to another bout of questioning.

They had followed an order of priority. First interviewed, soon after Derelei’s absence was discovered, had been those most likely to have seen him or Eile: the bodyguards, Elda, the royal nursemaids. Fola and Wid; Garvan and his apprentice. Next they had questioned the guards who had been stationed in the outer court and on the walkways, with a good view of comings
and goings. By then it had been dark, and Faolan had returned, and the search had gone beyond the walls. All the same, Aniel had continued to speak to the kitchen men and women, and to other folk with children who might have played with Saraid or with Derelei. Faolan had already interrogated the guards at the main gates. They had seen nothing at all.

This morning it was necessary to begin questioning
White Hill’s guests, those who had for their own reasons
lingered on far beyond the time of the victory feast. This was awkward, especially when the guests were people of a certain status, folk who would believe themselves above suspicion.

Still, both Aniel and Tharan were old hands at diplomacy, and they had invited Wid to assist them. The ancient scholar had a wealth of experience in the halls
of powerful men. He had used it effectively to school the young Bridei in such matters, and after him Tuala.

They came, at length, to Breda of the Light Isles and her four remaining handmaids. Dorica had provided the information that Breda had at first been friendly toward Eile and that of recent times things had cooled between the two of them. Indeed, once or twice she had overheard Breda making
quite cutting comments about this outsider who had so quickly insinuated herself into the queen’s favor. Dorica had dismissed it as foolish talk; it was well known that Breda lacked her sister’s maturity.

It was not possible to have Keother present during his young cousin’s interrogation. The king of the Light Isles had surprised them all by volunteering his services for the search once again.
In a way that only added a complication, since Fortriu’s royal guest could not be allowed to venture forth without personal guards. To have Bridei’s vassal king suffer an accident or be attacked while under White Hill’s hospitality would be unthinkable; the political ramifications would be enormous. However, Keother’s readiness to help was disarming, and he rode out with his two guards and several
of his own courtiers, following Faolan’s orders like everyone else.

They called Breda in. The princess of the Light Isles was on her best behavior this morning. She curtsied to the king, then inclined her head to the other men. Eyes on Bridei, she said, “I’m so sorry, my lord. Your son… You must be very upset. If there’s anything I can do…”

“Thank you,” Bridei said. “We’d like to ask you a few
questions, then speak to your maids. A formality, you understand;
we need to talk to everyone who was at White Hill yesterday. As no doubt you’ve heard, we don’t know when Derelei and Eile actually went missing, or how. That makes an effective search much more difficult to mount.”

“Oh.” Breda waited, hands prettily folded in her lap. In recognition of her status, they had given her a padded stool
to sit on.

“How did you spend your day yesterday, Lady Breda?” Tharan asked politely.

“My
day? You don’t mean—What are you saying?” Her blue eyes went round with shock.

“We simply need to find out who saw either Derelei or Eile and her daughter, and when,” said Aniel. “And where folk were, so certain possibilities can be ruled out.”

“Certain possi—You can’t mean—oh, well, it’s easy, anyway.
I was in my own quarters in the morning; my attendants brought me breakfast. Later on I went out and sat in the garden. I was there a long time. Then I went in to supper. By then everyone was running about with torches.”

“What part of the garden?” Aniel asked, narrowing his eyes.

“The main part, of course. I’m not allowed in Queen Tuala’s
special
garden.” She glanced at Bridei. “I was sitting
on a bench near a rosebush. I was there all afternoon.”

“Just sitting?” Wid eyed her, his expression one of incredulity.

Breda flushed. “I had my embroidery with me. To tell you the truth, I get sick of my handmaids. They giggle and chatter so.”

“Can anyone vouch for your presence here?”

“If you’re accusing me of something, why not come right out with it?” Breda’s voice went up a notch. She
turned once more to Bridei. “My lord, this is—”

“Just answer the question, please,” Bridei said quietly.
The girl seemed unusually defensive; she was an odd creature, her manner at the same time naive and knowing. He did not know what to make of her.

“Of course people can vouch for where I was. My attendants will back up my story. And Dovran was there, in the garden. I don’t know if he saw me;
he’s very intent on his duty. But I certainly saw him.”

“Lady Breda,” Aniel said, “what is your theory on this disappearance? What do you think most likely to have occurred?”

Breda shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s all terribly sad. That sweet little girl; I hate to think what might happen to her. I find it hard to believe Eile would be so wicked; I quite liked her, myself.”

“You believe in this
tale folk are putting about, do you?” Wid’s voice was calm. “A kidnapping, perhaps on behalf of Dalriadan interests?”

“She’s a Gael, isn’t she? And only lately come here. Nobody knew a thing about her.”

“Lady Breda,” Tharan said, “I’m not sure if I understood correctly. Can it be that you have not yet heard the news that little Saraid was found safe in the woods last night and is back at White
Hill?”

The oddest expression crossed Breda’s face; it was too complicated to read. “Oh.” She looked down, then up again, then to the door as if she wanted to flee. “Oh, really? Well, isn’t that wonderful? Such a dear little thing. I’m so glad. So didn’t she say what happened? Where the others are?”

“Not thus far,” said Bridei. “She’s too upset to speak.”

“Oh. How sad. Where is she now? Who
is looking after her?”

There was a pause. Then Wid said, “She’s being well cared for. I don’t think we need detain you any longer, my lady.”

“For now,” said Tharan.

“For now? You mean I may have to go through this again?”

“There’s a child missing,” Aniel told her flatly. “And a young woman. A little inconvenience is surely a small price to pay for finding them more quickly.”

Breda rose to
her feet. She clasped her hands before her. “There’s just one thing,” she said in a small voice, a child’s voice.

The four men looked at her. Suddenly the silence in the council chamber was full of tension. “Yes?” said Tharan.

“I didn’t want to say… I mean, this talk of kidnapping, of treachery, it’s all so distasteful. And I may have got it wrong, misinterpreted what I saw…”

“Whatever it is,
tell us now and in plain words.” Bridei was on his feet, his face white.

“I… I did see her. Them. It was when I was outside, going up to the garden. Eile was in her outdoor clothes, and she had the two children, Saraid and little… and your son, my lord. They were going out the gate, the small gate at the side of the main entry.”

The men stared at her.

“You saw this, and you have waited until
now, until they have been missing a whole night, before thinking to tell us?” Aniel, an expert in composure, could not keep the fury from his voice.

“It… it seemed so unusual, so unlikely, I began to wonder if I’d made a mistake.” Breda’s features were a picture of girlish confusion. “I thought maybe it had been someone else. Besides, even if it was Eile, the guards wouldn’t have let them out
if it hadn’t been authorized, surely? I just supposed she had been allowed to take the children for a walk. Everyone knows how much Queen Tuala trusts the little Gael. Trusted, I suppose that should be.”

Bridei drew a deep breath and sat down at the table. “Be seated, Breda,” he said. “I very much regret that you did not make this known as soon as you saw Eile leaving; you could have mentioned
it to Dovran or Garth, to any member of my household, and thus have allowed us to bring back my son and the other two straight away.
Everyone knows Derelei does not go beyond the walls without armed guards. Everyone. I cannot understand why you have kept this to yourself for so long.”

“Nobody asked,” said Breda in her little voice, hunching her shoulders.

“Go through it again, please. We need
to fix on a time of day, a direction.”

“I do want to help, as much as I can. It was around midday, I think. A direction? It was hard to see, but I am fairly sure they were headed toward the western track, the one that leads down to Serpent Lake. I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t want to get Eile in trouble…” A single tear flowed down the flawless cheek.

“What do your handmaids know of this?” Wid
asked.

“Nothing. I told you. I decided I must have got it wrong. I didn’t tell them anything. You know how girls gossip and build up something from nothing.”

“Very well. We will speak with these young women now, one by one. You may go, Lady Breda. Think hard about the consequences of your decision to keep this to yourself. Telling this tale to someone, anyone, could have saved lives.”

“But I
have
told you,” Breda said, eyes wide. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

The handmaids all told the same story. Breda had spent the morning in her quarters and the afternoon in the garden. Most of them had stayed indoors sewing, playing games or practicing the harp. Nobody had seen Eile or Saraid or Derelei. Aniel sent them away.

“I can’t believe it,” Bridei said shakily. “Breda must be weak-witted.
How could she not understand how important that was? I can understand, perhaps, her reluctance to speak straightaway, not comprehending why it was so vital. But surely, once Derelei was found to be missing, anyone should have known to speak up?”

“That last young woman seemed on the verge of tears,” Aniel commented. “All of them were quite edgy; nervous out of all proportion to the situation.”

Wid managed a wintry smile. “For girls of fourteen or so, being questioned by four grim men, one of them a king, is enough to bring out either tears or defiance. They’re far from home, and this is a troubling matter.”

“Unfortunately,” Aniel said, “this has come too late to be of much assistance to us, except that it lends credibility to the unlikely story that’s going around the household, that
Eile was deliberately planted here in order to carry out a kidnapping. Indeed, it would appear she’s done so with remarkable efficiency.”

“I cannot believe it,” Bridei said. “I know Tuala wouldn’t.”

“I hate to say this,” said Tharan soberly, “but that may merely reflect the fact that whoever is behind this chose his agent with particular cleverness. What now? What action do we take?”

“If there’s
a man to be spared,” Bridei said, “send him out to find Faolan and pass on this new information, which will not be welcome. He needs to know. For ourselves, I do not think there is any more we can do until the search party reports back.”

“It seems our only option is to entreat the gods for a good ending to this, and to await the return of Faolan and the other men,” said Aniel. “And that of the
other emissary who went out this morning. Bridei, if you need our company, we are here. I think this will be a long day.”