[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
did upon coming in was wash her hands thoroughly in the deep sink. Then she gathered an assortment of
bottles and bandages from her corner cabinet and put them down on the table the four sat around. "You
found the scones, I see, and you've all had tea. Let's get you bandaged some more and poulticed."
Later, the Widow said between sips of home brew, "Ian MacDiarmid is a bloody romantic fool. But I'm
still not going to let some bloody foreigners hang him; that's for his own to do."
"We've only got armor and weapons for one person," Maeve said thoughtfully. "Fighting our way in isn't
going to work."
"I don't need armor," Fiona said quickly. "It slows me down."
"I don't know how to use weapons," Raina admitted to no one's surprise as she continued working the
tangles out of her hair.
"Is your cousin the prince a reasonable man?" Maeve asked Raina.
Raina frowned. "He was when we were growing up . . . we used to be good friends . . . but my husband
was an awful influence on him." The hand holding the brush trembled.
"Could you ask for pardon?"
"Shecouldn't," the Widow said. "Youcould. And your sisters could be breaking Ian out of prison or
trying to at the same time. That way there's more chance of success. Especially since the prince loves
music." She met Maeve's shocked look without blinking. "I've heard you sing when you thought no one
could hear you, Maeve. Isn't it about time you used your gift for something important?"
* * *
"You want me to wearthat?" Maeve all but shrieked.
The Widow held the slithery wisp of sapphire-blue silk dress carefully, appraising Maeve. "Do you want
to see your brother hanged?"
"But . . . but . . . I'll look like a . . ."
"Temptress," the Widow said imperturbably. "That's the idea.AsI explained. The prince has an eye for
beautyandan ear for music. Raina will present you to him; you and she will distract him while Deirdre and
Fiona rescue Ian."
"But what if he . . ." Maeve blushed.
The Widow smiled secretively. "He'll be too bewitched by your voice to do anything else. Once I teach
you a few songs."
* * *
Raina's bribes all she could raise had only bought Ian housing in the best part of the dungeon. She
could, however, get everyone through the gate without questions given makeup to cover her bruises and
new clothing the Widow provided.
Maeve's russet hair, unbound, rippled in the breeze. Her black silk cloak barely masked the curves
displayed by the clinging sapphire silk dress. The gate guard leered at her as she and Raina entered the
gate. Deirdre and Fiona brought up the rear long enough to get through the gate into the city streets.
Deirdre bruises fading and hair cropped shorter looked masculine in her armor. Fiona was dressed
as a boy, and looked like one.
Raina led Maeve up a set of stairs within the gatehouse, down a twisting and turning interior hallway, and
to a door guarded by one well-armored man. "Raina of Evendor and her . . . discovery . . . for the
prince," she murmured to the man. Maeve, on cue, fanned herself slightly, as if hot, and undid her cloak.
Black silk slipped off Maeve's bare shoulders. Raina arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the guard.
"Weareexpected, are we not? I sent word . . ."
"Yes, madam." He opened the door.
* * *
Deirdre kept watch in the grimy alley as Fiona fiddled with the lock of the disused dungeon side door
using a set of wires and picks. "Where'd you get those?"
"You're not the only one who can make things out of metal. Now hush. I have to concentrate."
Finally, after a seeming eternity, the lock gave. Down a winding set of stairs the two went. They paused
at the final turn of stairs leading to a dim and dank-smelling dungeon. A bored-looking guard sat at a
table in the center of the aisle, playing solitaire by the light of a flickering lantern. The five cells on their left
and four of the five cells on their right were empty.
"This was thebestshe could do?" Fiona breathed almost inaudibly.
"One guard, no cellmates," whispered Deirdre. "Perfect."
The fifth cell on the right held Ian.
He was repeating That Phrase. So loudly it masked any noise from his sisters slipping down the stairs.
The two forgave him for it given the circumstances. "But if he says it later," Deirdre vowed silently, "I'll lay
him out myself."
Fiona slithered into the shadows, reappearing just long enough to cosh the guard on the back of the
head.
Ian stopped mid-Phrase. "What was that? A ghost? Da?"
Deirdre bound and gagged the guard. Fiona pocketed the guard's purse and took the keys off his belt.
"No, you bloody idiot, it's me and Dee come to get you."
"Raina . . . she found you? Where is she, Fi? What are you doing in armor, Dee?" Ian sputtered as Fiona
unlocked his cell. "And where's Maevie? Notwithyou, I hope . . . Maevie's got no head for this sort of
thing."
* * * [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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did upon coming in was wash her hands thoroughly in the deep sink. Then she gathered an assortment of
bottles and bandages from her corner cabinet and put them down on the table the four sat around. "You
found the scones, I see, and you've all had tea. Let's get you bandaged some more and poulticed."
Later, the Widow said between sips of home brew, "Ian MacDiarmid is a bloody romantic fool. But I'm
still not going to let some bloody foreigners hang him; that's for his own to do."
"We've only got armor and weapons for one person," Maeve said thoughtfully. "Fighting our way in isn't
going to work."
"I don't need armor," Fiona said quickly. "It slows me down."
"I don't know how to use weapons," Raina admitted to no one's surprise as she continued working the
tangles out of her hair.
"Is your cousin the prince a reasonable man?" Maeve asked Raina.
Raina frowned. "He was when we were growing up . . . we used to be good friends . . . but my husband
was an awful influence on him." The hand holding the brush trembled.
"Could you ask for pardon?"
"Shecouldn't," the Widow said. "Youcould. And your sisters could be breaking Ian out of prison or
trying to at the same time. That way there's more chance of success. Especially since the prince loves
music." She met Maeve's shocked look without blinking. "I've heard you sing when you thought no one
could hear you, Maeve. Isn't it about time you used your gift for something important?"
* * *
"You want me to wearthat?" Maeve all but shrieked.
The Widow held the slithery wisp of sapphire-blue silk dress carefully, appraising Maeve. "Do you want
to see your brother hanged?"
"But . . . but . . . I'll look like a . . ."
"Temptress," the Widow said imperturbably. "That's the idea.AsI explained. The prince has an eye for
beautyandan ear for music. Raina will present you to him; you and she will distract him while Deirdre and
Fiona rescue Ian."
"But what if he . . ." Maeve blushed.
The Widow smiled secretively. "He'll be too bewitched by your voice to do anything else. Once I teach
you a few songs."
* * *
Raina's bribes all she could raise had only bought Ian housing in the best part of the dungeon. She
could, however, get everyone through the gate without questions given makeup to cover her bruises and
new clothing the Widow provided.
Maeve's russet hair, unbound, rippled in the breeze. Her black silk cloak barely masked the curves
displayed by the clinging sapphire silk dress. The gate guard leered at her as she and Raina entered the
gate. Deirdre and Fiona brought up the rear long enough to get through the gate into the city streets.
Deirdre bruises fading and hair cropped shorter looked masculine in her armor. Fiona was dressed
as a boy, and looked like one.
Raina led Maeve up a set of stairs within the gatehouse, down a twisting and turning interior hallway, and
to a door guarded by one well-armored man. "Raina of Evendor and her . . . discovery . . . for the
prince," she murmured to the man. Maeve, on cue, fanned herself slightly, as if hot, and undid her cloak.
Black silk slipped off Maeve's bare shoulders. Raina arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the guard.
"Weareexpected, are we not? I sent word . . ."
"Yes, madam." He opened the door.
* * *
Deirdre kept watch in the grimy alley as Fiona fiddled with the lock of the disused dungeon side door
using a set of wires and picks. "Where'd you get those?"
"You're not the only one who can make things out of metal. Now hush. I have to concentrate."
Finally, after a seeming eternity, the lock gave. Down a winding set of stairs the two went. They paused
at the final turn of stairs leading to a dim and dank-smelling dungeon. A bored-looking guard sat at a
table in the center of the aisle, playing solitaire by the light of a flickering lantern. The five cells on their left
and four of the five cells on their right were empty.
"This was thebestshe could do?" Fiona breathed almost inaudibly.
"One guard, no cellmates," whispered Deirdre. "Perfect."
The fifth cell on the right held Ian.
He was repeating That Phrase. So loudly it masked any noise from his sisters slipping down the stairs.
The two forgave him for it given the circumstances. "But if he says it later," Deirdre vowed silently, "I'll lay
him out myself."
Fiona slithered into the shadows, reappearing just long enough to cosh the guard on the back of the
head.
Ian stopped mid-Phrase. "What was that? A ghost? Da?"
Deirdre bound and gagged the guard. Fiona pocketed the guard's purse and took the keys off his belt.
"No, you bloody idiot, it's me and Dee come to get you."
"Raina . . . she found you? Where is she, Fi? What are you doing in armor, Dee?" Ian sputtered as Fiona
unlocked his cell. "And where's Maevie? Notwithyou, I hope . . . Maevie's got no head for this sort of
thing."
* * * [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]