Chapter Eight

Sophie ran up the hill toward home, no less furious with her sister than she had been when she’d realized that Kane had been drugged. Dawn was coming in less than an hour, and Kane still slept. He slept deeply, so still and quiet she had spent much of the night making sure he was still alive. Ariana would soon be awake and hungry, so Sophie had been unable to remain in town with the unconscious man any longer.

But as soon as she collected and fed her daughter, they would both join Kane in his room above the tavern.

She didn’t know that she’d ever return to the cabin where she’d lived all her life. It no longer felt like home to her. Isadora had deceived her, and no matter how good her intentions might’ve been, the fact remained that there had been a very real betrayal. Juliet had not been involved—at least Sophie didn’t think so—but she must’ve known Isadora’s potion wasn’t a harmless method of birth control. She should have said something. Sisters were not supposed to betray one another, not for any reason.

The parlor and kitchen were dark, so Sophie lit a lantern. The cabin was eerily quiet. No one stirred. No one snored. No mattresses creaked. Sophie did not try to be quiet as she carried the lantern to her bedroom and peeked inside. Hungry for the sight of her daughter after such a long night, she needed to see Ariana before she confronted Isadora. And she would confront Isadora. Yes, her sister was six years older, much more powerful, half a foot taller and infinitely more stubborn, but that did not mean that Sophie should not or could not stand up for herself when necessary.

She had never stood up to Isadora before. Not like this.

The cradle was empty, but Sophie was not unduly alarmed. Perhaps Ariana had awakened early, even though she had been sleeping through the night for a month now, and was resting in bed with one of her aunts. Juliet, most likely. It wouldn’t be the first time Sophie had found those two sleeping together, cuddled into a snug, warm ball. Juliet really should get over her fear of men and have a few babies of her own.

Juliet’s bed was empty, too, though it had been slept in. The coverlet was rumpled, and one pillow had been tossed to the floor.

That left only Isadora’s room, which was at the end of the hallway. Sophie headed in that direction determined to give her elder sister a piece of her mind and collect her daughter. If all three of them had crowded into Isadora’s bed, then Ariana had not behaved as usual. Maybe the baby had kept them up all night. Sophie could not be sorry.

But Isadora’s bed had not been slept in at all. The coverlet was crisp, all the pillows neatly in place.

Sophie’s heart thudded too hard. Something was wrong. “Juliet!” she called as she turned about and returned to the middle bedroom. “Isadora! Where are you?”

She stopped once again at the doorway to Juliet’s room, and this time she heard a faint noise. A soft, broken moan.

Sophie ran into the room and rounded the bed to find Juliet lying facedown on the floor. As Sophie dropped to her knees and placed the lantern to the side, she saw that there was a bloody gash on Juliet’s head.

Isadora had not answered her call. Sophie calmed herself with the knowledge that her eldest sister had the baby and was taking good care of her, wherever they might be. That was the only imagining she could allow herself.

Juliet moaned again and Sophie touched her sister’s face. She was afraid to try to move her. Juliet was the healer; Sophie didn’t know what to do.

“What happened?” Sophie whispered. “Please wake up.” The sound of her voice seemed to rouse the wounded woman. Juliet tried to lift her head, then gasped in pain and pressed her forehead to the floor.

“You’re home,” Juliet whispered. “I thought you would never get here.”

“Yes, I’m home,” Sophie said gently. “Where are Isadora and Ariana? How did you hurt your head?”

Serene, practical Juliet started to sob. “They took her,” she cried into the floor. “I tried to stop them, I did, but one of the men hit me over the head with something and everything went black.”

“They took Isadora?”

“The baby,” Juliet whispered. “They took the baby.”

Juliet continued to talk, but Sophie did not hear a word. A roar filled her ears, and she could hear and feel the pounding of her own heart. Juliet was not herself. The head wound had her talking nonsense. She had to be wrong.

Sophie left her sister lying on the floor and ran from room to room calling Ariana’s name. She searched everywhere, even though with every step she realized more clearly that Juliet had not been wrong. Someone had taken her baby. Someone had taken Ariana away.

Sophie was searching the parlor when the front door opened slowly and Isadora crept in. The eldest Fyne sister wore nothing but her nightshift, and her hair was caught in an untidy braid. She tiptoed on bare feet like a woman who was trying not to get caught.

“Where have you been?” Sophie cried.

Startled, Isadora spun to face her sister. After a moment’s surprise, she said, “I went for a walk.” Her defiant chin was held high.

“All night?”

Isadora managed to be intimidating even in her nightclothes. “Ah yes, I suppose you have a bone to pick with me. Was your evening with Mr. Varden disappointing?” She actually smiled.

Sophie shook her head. “Someone has taken Ariana and hurt Juliet. Where were you? You should have been here!” Isadora could’ve stopped the intruders. She could’ve saved Ariana and Juliet with a wave of her hand. “Where were you?”

Isadora’s smile disappeared quickly. “If this is your idea of a joke...”

Juliet stumbled into the room, one hand against the wall for support, the other pressed to her sticky head wound.

“It was Galvyn Farrell and some brutish man I have never seen before,” she said weakly. “Sophie, Galvyn gave me a message for you.”

Isadora hurried to Juliet and assisted her to the rocking chair. “If you want to see Ariana again, you must go to the palace in Arthes and present yourself to the Minister of Defense. There you are to ask permission to take Galvyn Farrell as your husband.”

“Why would I ask permission from the Minister of—” Sophie began.

Juliet lifted a silencing hand. “You’re to wear the white dress he gave you,” she continued. “He put it in your wardrobe.”

Sophie’s head spun. “I don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense!” She ran toward the door. “I can change Galvyn’s mind, I can make him see reason. Maybe I can catch him if I hurry.”

“Stop!” Isadora and Juliet ordered, their voices in unison.

Sophie turned to face her sisters. Their faces blurred through her tears. “I can’t stop. He took my baby.”

“And you will get her back,” Juliet said. “But not like this. Come here.” She lifted her hand.

Sophie returned to the parlor and knelt before her sister. She took Juliet’s blood-sticky hand in her own, and Juliet held on with surprising strength.

“Ariana will be fine. He is afraid to hurt her, though I’m not sure why. Something to do with power, but”—she shook her head—“You must not travel alone.”

“I don’t see what choice I have. Isadora needs to stay here and take care of you,” Sophie insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

Juliet shook her head. “The baby’s father will escort you. He’s a soldier, Sophie. He knows how to travel and how to stay safe on the road, and you need him with you.”

“I can’t—”

“You won’t survive the trip without him,” Juliet insisted. “Do not try to catch up with Galvyn, because you will not. You won’t see Ariana again until you reach the palace.” Juliet did not release her grip on Sophie’s hand. “Tell Kane the answer to his question is sorcery. General Corann, one of the emperor’s highest soldiers, took a seer as his mistress. For several months she gave him counsel. It was she who told him where to place his soldiers on that day. The rebels know of the seer and her part in that and other ambushes. They’ve killed her, just a few days...a few weeks past. Kane’s fear that they will think him responsible is a groundless one. They’ll be surprised to see him, though,” she added. “They believe him to be dead, like all the others.”

Kane would have an answer to the question he had never asked Juliet.

“We must leave now,” Sophie insisted, “and Kane is...is...” She glared up at Isadora. “I will never forgive you.”

“Are you pregnant?” Isadora asked sharply.

“Of course not!”

“Then the potion worked as it should.”

Sophie raked both hands through her hair, reaching for order and reason and the ability to continue without falling apart. “I’m not coming back here,” she said as she stood and headed for her bedroom to pack the dreadful white dress and whatever else she might need.

“You and Kane will leave directly from town,” Isadora called after her as she began to attend to Juliet’s wound. “That’s good.”

Sophie didn’t answer, not until she’d changed into a traveling outfit and gathered her things. She wore loose trousers tucked into tall boots and a man-style shirt, and her hair was pulled up and back and twisted into a loose knot. She walked into the parlor with a bag in her hand.

“You didn’t understand me correctly,” she said calmly. “I’m never coming back here. This is no longer my home, and you are not my sister.”

Isadora glared, but in those dark, angry eyes Sophie saw something else. A fear that almost matched her own. “Just because I put your beau to sleep for a few hours—”

“If I had been here I might’ve stopped Galvyn!” Sophie shouted. “My baby would be in my arms and Juliet would not be hurt. And I would have been here if not for your petty determination to get your own way!”

Isadora had the decency to go pale. “Even if I had not interfered with your plans for the evening, you might not have been here, Sophie. Don’t be rash.”

“Rash? How dare you—”

“You were not meant to be here,” Juliet said weakly. “Don’t blame Isadora. Everything that has happened, it was meant to be.”

Sophie shook her head. She needed someone to blame, someone she could yell at now, and Isadora had interfered for the last time.

“I can’t believe it was fate that took my daughter from me,” she whispered. Tears dripped down her face, even though she tried to stop them. She needed to be strong. For Ariana.

“Shhhh,” Juliet said when Sophie began to cry. “It is also fated that you will get her back. Trust me, darling.”

“You’ll need herbs to stop your milk from coming in until you reach Ariana,” Isadora said sensibly. “Even if you take the shortest road and travel across the barren heart, the trip to Arthes will take more than two weeks.”

“Two weeks!”

“Three,” Juliet whispered.

Sophie closed her eyes. Three weeks was a lifetime, much too long to be away from her child. “What about Kane? When will he wake up?”

“I’ll give you an antidote,” Isadora said as she reached for the cabinet where the medicines were stored. “Two drops on his tongue and he’ll wake feeling bright and alert. There will be no aftereffects from last night’s potion.”

“He’ll feel fine,” Sophie said bitterly, “until I tell him that his daughter has been kidnapped and I don’t know why.”

“Power,” Juliet whispered. “You must hold onto that, Sophie. Galvyn won’t hurt Ariana. He needs her to be well and happy. She’ll be well taken care of.”

Juliet pressed both hands to her eyes. A simple vision often gave her a headache, and this one had been going on for some time.

Armed with the antidote to the potion Isadora had fashioned for Kane, an herbal mixture to keep her breasts from growing heavy with milk, enough food for three days, water, and the blasted white dress, Sophie headed down Fyne Mountain at a run.

She didn’t know what she’d do once she had Ariana in her arms again, but she knew she wasn’t coming back here. Fyne Mountain was no longer her home.

Isadora made sure the bandage on Juliet’s head was secure and that the bleeding had stopped.

“I should have stayed home last night,” she muttered as she gently washed dried blood from her sister’s temple. “I could have stopped them.”

“Yes, you could have,” Juliet said weakly. “I suspect that’s why you weren’t here.”

“Fate again.”

“Yes.”

She hated Juliet’s easy acceptance of everything that happened, calling it fate or destiny. To accept everything with such serenity was unnatural...and it would also mean admitting that she and Will had never been meant to have more than those precious two years.

Isadora helped Juliet to her feet. Now was not the time to argue. “We’re going to change that gown and wash off the rest of the blood, and then you’re going to get some sleep.”

“How can I sleep?” Juliet asked.

“You must heal; you must get stronger,” Isadora insisted. “You need rest.”

They made slow progress down the hallway. Isadora couldn’t help but glance into Sophie’s room as they passed. The cradle was empty, clothes Sophie had rejected as she’d gone through her things had been scattered about the room. The gown she’d worn to town tonight had been tossed onto the floor, beauty and allure forgotten in favor of more important things.

“I should’ve been here,” she said again.

“Where were you?” Juliet asked. “I know you often walk at night, but you don’t usually stay out so late.”

“I fell asleep.” Two nights in a row she’d gone looking for Willym’s spirit, and two nights in a row she’d seen him. Briefly. Indistinctly. But for that split second when he looked so real, she felt good again. Whole and happy and full of hope.

But of course Will was dead, and there was no hope. Not for her.

“I shouldn’t have deceived Sophie with that potion. I didn’t intend to hurt Varden,” Isadora said hotly. “I just wanted her to have one more night to rethink her position.”

“How do you rethink love?” Juliet asked as she sat on the edge of the bed.

Love. Her heart clenched. “Is it that serious?”

“I’m afraid so. Sophie doesn’t realize the full depth of her feelings yet, but the love is already there.”

For the Fyne women, with love came pain and death.

But those two years with Willym had been so wonderful. She would give anything to have him back...but she would not give back those two years.

Isadora sighed. “Perhaps I did make a mistake. I only wanted what was best for Sophie. She’s the baby, and it’s my job to look out for her. I’ve been like her mother since she was fourteen, and I just don’t want her to suffer.”

“I know you did your best for both of us.”

“Sophie will be back, won’t she?” she asked as she helped to remove Juliet’s nightshirt. For some reason, Isadora’s heart hitched as she asked the question. She didn’t have Juliet’s gift, but it was as if she already knew the answer.

“Our baby sister will never see this house again,” Juliet whispered, tears in her eyes. “Never.”

From his saddle atop the finest horse in his stable, Galvyn glared at the squalling baby. If he didn’t need the brat...if he wasn’t afraid to harm a hair on her soft little head...

Bors, a deputy sheriff who wasn’t above a little bribery, theft, or kidnapping here and there, rode alongside on his own horse, and he carried the child in a sling across his chest. The ear-splitting noise didn’t seem to bother him at all. Then again, the big man had six or seven kids at home.

“Can’t you make it be quiet?”

“The babe’s hungry,” Bors said sensibly. “As soon as we collect the wet nurse she’ll be fine. We’ll reach the farm in an hour or so.”

“Wouldn’t feeding it from a wineskin make more sense?”

Bors looked pointedly at Galvyn. “When we hit that long stretch of road where there are no towns for miles, where will we get the milk?”

Galvyn shrugged. They could take the more well-traveled road that cut south for many miles before turning north and west again. Along that road there would be many towns and villages, farms and ranches. But it would also extend the journey from two weeks to a full month or more. Best to travel across the barren land that would keep their journey short.

The ugly deputy returned his attention to the baby he’d snatched from its cradle after hitting Juliet over the head.

Galvyn watched the road, his mind on the events of the early morning hours. Maybe Juliet was dead. Bors had certainly hit her hard enough to accomplish that deed. He wished Isadora had been there, as well as the redhead. If both elder sisters were dead, there would be no one to care for Sophie. No one but him.

She was everything he’d ever wanted in a wife. Beauty, of course. Sweetness, which would surely turn to compliance once they were wed. Her body was luscious, hinting that as a wife she would be exciting where wifely matters were concerned.

But it was the political connections of which she was unaware that sealed the deal for him. He would have the perfect wife and a place in the emperor’s palace.

The big man who carried Sophie’s baby said, “The wet nurse will also keep the baby clean and soothe her when she needs sleep. Are those chores you would like for yourself?”

“No,” Galvyn said tersely.

The trip to Arthes would be a long one with the baby, Bors, and a wet nurse in the traveling party. But what waited at the end of the journey would make all the suffering worthwhile.

Kane slowly opened his eyes. What had happened? One minute it had been nighttime and he’d been making love to Sophie, and the next it was morning and she leaned over him with tears in her eyes.

When had she gotten dressed and restyled her hair? What had happened to the night?

He dismissed all his questions when she took his face in her hands and repeated herself. “Are you listening to me? Galvyn Farrell has kidnapped Ariana!”

He sat up, feeling strangely invigorated. Physically, at least. “Why would he do such a thing? What does he want?”

“He wants me,” Sophie said softly. “He’s taken Ariana to the palace in the capital city, and he’s left specific instructions on what I’m to do when I get there.”

“When did he leave?” Kane leapt from the bed and reached for his clothes. “We can catch him...”

Sophie laid a hand on his arm. “We can’t,” she said softly. “Juliet says we will not catch him on the road, that it will take us three weeks to get there, and—”

“Two,” he said. “Maybe a couple days more.”

She shook her head. “No. Kane, you must listen to me. I need you to escort me to the palace in Arthes, but once we’re there I will do what I must to save Ariana. Alone.”

“You expect me to take you to the Imperial Palace and just leave you there?” He sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots.

“You can return to the rebels. I know that’s what you want. They never thought you a traitor, Kane, though they do think you’re dead,” she said passionlessly.

“Juliet again,” he said tersely.

“Yes. She said your position was given away by a seer who once served as General Corann’s counsel and mistress. The seer is dead now.”

“And what are you going to do while I return to the revolution?” he asked.

“I’m going to go to the Minister of Defense and ask for permission to take Galvyn Farrell as husband.”

He shook his head. He felt alert, considering that he’d lost the night, but none of this was making sense. “Why would you ask the Minister of Defense for permission to marry?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly.

He stood, took her face in his hands, and bent down to give her a quick kiss. “We’ll go to Arthes, and I promise to have you there in less than three weeks. You can speak to the Minister of Defense if you’d like, but as soon as Galvyn Farrell shows his face I’m going to kill him. And then you and I are going to take Ariana and get out of that cursed place. Together, Sophie.”

She closed her eyes in what seemed to be relief. No matter what she said, she didn’t want to do this alone. “I want my baby, Kane.”

“I know you do, Angel.” He strapped his knife and sword to his belt and slipped yet another into a sheath inside his right boot. From the corner of the room he collected a bow and a quiver of arrows. He was a better swordsman than archer, but when it came to weapons he had found that it was always best to be prepared for any and every need.

“I’ll do anything to get her back.” Sophie’s eyes were wide, and while she was scared she was also determined.

“You won’t have to marry a lowlife kidnapper in order to hold your daughter again, I promise you.”

She shook her head. “How is Galvyn connected with the Minister of Defense? I’ve never even heard of the man, and with a title like Minister of Defense I doubt he’s in charge of any sort of matrimony.”

“I never actually met Minister Sulyen, but I understand he’s one tough bastard. He’s had to be to survive the last two emperors. Sebestyen’s father had a nasty habit of doing away with those who disagreed with him, and his son has inherited that penchant.”

“Minister Sulyen,” Sophie said as she watched Kane gather his things for the long trip ahead.

He knew how to pack quickly, how to clean every hint of himself out of a room in a matter of minutes. He’d purchase a new horse before they left town; the trip was too long for them to share a mount. His mind was already on the trip ahead. Which road to take, when and where to stop so the horses could rest.

“Do you think perhaps Sulyen is a relation to the Farrells? Galvyn was always talking about his connections to powerful people and even to the emperor himself.”

“Could be,” Kane said, “though from what I hear, Maddox Sulyen isn’t exactly a family man.”

He faced Sophie, ready to leave Shandley behind. A moment ago she had been scared, but determined. In a heartbeat, she went deathly pale and her hands began to shake. “Maddox Sulyen?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Her pretty blue eyes rolled up and she fainted into his arms.