The Heir of Jeragoth

With the teleportation wards up, Alana could roam the castle alone. In the week since she last saw her Uncle Iliard, that was exactly what she did. While her father was back at the Baron’s council, she stayed mostly in her rooms or the kitchens, where her mother and brother would never think to go.

When she was in the kitchens, Alana spent some time talking with Lily, a pretty, petite blonde who was about her age. Lily had been Alana’s playmate when she was much younger, but that had stopped almost completely when Alana had started her lessons. She became old enough to begin school and Lily and the other children of slaves became old enough to work.

Ever since her visit to the slave market in Narsacalius, Alana was very aware of the plight of slaves. She wanted to see how slaves were really treated in Candril. She had said to her uncle that the slaves were part of the family but, the more she saw, the more she realized that she had been fooling herself. The slaves of Castle Candril were well treated but Alana knew that they were given the most menial duties, like mucking out the stables and taking care of the kitchen trash. Most of the paid servants looked down on them with contempt. Her uncle’s words weighed heavily on her mind. She wondered if she was supposed to do something about slavery. Alana wasn’t even sure why they had slaves in the castle in the first place. Maybe she would ask her father—once he was in a better mood.

Bertrand had returned the previous day from the Council of Barons, and from all accounts he was in an extremely foul mood. He had come to see Alana the day he returned, but he hadn’t stayed very long. Alana had just finished putting on her riding gear when Jena came in and said, “My lady, Miss Lucine is here to see you.”

Alana looked at Jena in surprise. Lucine rarely came to this wing and had never come to her rooms as far she could remember. She shrugged and said, “Send her in Jena.”

Lucine came in and curtsied, “My Lady, the Baron asked me to tell you that there is to be a special dinner tonight. He said that you are to come and dine with him and his guests.”

Alana frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve come of age, my lady. You will be expected to dine with the baron and his guests at the head table. And the Baron asks that you dress appropriately.”

“Dress appropriately? Do you mean a formal gown?”

Lucine smiled slightly, “Yes, my Lady.”

“But,” Alana said in protest, “I don’t have a gown like that. I’ve never had to wear one before.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Lucine answered. “The Baron is aware of that. He is sending up a seamstress later this morning.”

“Oh,” Alana replied. “But how is she going to get a whole gown done in less than one day?”

Again Lucine smiled a little, “Magic, I imagine, my Lady.”

Now Alana felt really silly. “Oh yes. Of course.” She let out a soft sigh. “Thank you, Lucine.”

Lucine curtsied, “You’re welcome, my Lady.”

Alana watched her leave and then plopped down on a chair. “Just what I want—to sit through a boring supper with my mother staring at me because something is wrong with my gown or my hair or whatever else.”

By this time, Ophelia had come in and she said, “Don’t you worry, Lady Alana. Me and Jena will make sure everything is just right.”

Alana sighed again as she started to take off her riding clothes, “Thank you, Ophelia.”

Kayla, the seamstress, arrived about an hour later. She made much of Alana’s thick brunette hair, fit slender frame and large, beautiful eyes. “Green!” she declared rapturously. “Green is the perfect color for you. You will outshine all of the other ladies in the castle.”

After she had taken Alana’s measurements, she hurried off to design “the perfect gown” for Alana. Alana looked at Ophelia and said, “I’m guessing she’s never seen my mother.”

“Oh she has my Lady,” Ophelia answered. “She’s just never seen you.”

Alana threw her a quizzical look as she put her riding clothes back on, and then shrugged. “I’m going riding now.”

Alana came back from her ride several hours later to find Ophelia and Jena bustling around her rooms. The seamstress had sent up fine undergarments earlier which they laid out on Alana’s bed. The pair quickly hustled her into her bathing chamber and got her into a bath. After her bath they fussed over her so much she finally had enough and stopped them. “Why are you going to all this trouble,” she asked in exasperation, “It’s just dinner.”

Ophelia and Jena looked at each other and then Ophelia answered, “My Lady, you’ve been pushed aside all your life. We just think it’s time people saw how beautiful you really are.” They both looked so earnest, Alana didn’t have the heart to further hamper their efforts.

About half an hour before Alana was supposed to go down for dinner, Kayla arrived with her gown. It was made of the softest, most luxurious deep green silk Alana had ever felt. When she put it on, it clung to her body like a well fitted glove. The scooped neckline was decorated with a wide band of intricately embroidered green and gold brocade. The long flowing sleeves and the short train were adorned in the same manner. Jena had artfully braided the front of her hair and had left the rest flowing down her back.

At the last minute, Kira arrived with a small chest that Bertrand had sent up. Alana gasped when she opened it. Inside was an emerald pendant, ring, bracelet and a hair ornament that consisted of a thick gold chain with a teardrop shaped emerald in the center. Jena and Ophelia went into transports of joy at each piece as they helped her put it on. Alana was about to get up to look at herself in the full-length mirror when she looked over at her nightstand and saw her dagger and the holy symbol of Asaeria lying there. She felt a small tremor of panic run through her as she realized that there was no place to put her dagger on her new gown. She couldn’t very well wear a brown leather belt over the soft silk. And the holy symbol wouldn’t look very good on top of the beautiful emerald pendant she was wearing. She looked at Kira and said, “My dagger and my amulet...”

Kira looked at the nightstand and then back at Alana. Kayla was watching the interchange with some curiosity, no doubt wondering what was so important about a dagger and an amulet. Kira went over to her and spoke to her briefly in a low voice. Kayla’s eyes widened and she glanced quickly over at Alana. She frowned thoughtfully for a moment and then said, “I think I can do something about your things, my Lady. Please stand with your back to me.”

Alana got up from her dressing table and turned her back to the seamstress. Kayla asked, “Do you wield with your right hand or your left hand, my Lady?”

“My right,” Alana answered, a little puzzled.

Kayla ran her hands around the low waistline of the gown, talking quietly to herself. Finally she said, “This will be perfect.” She placed her hands on the right side of the gown, just at Alana’s hip and, to Alana’s surprise, began murmuring a spell. After a few moments, she lifted her hands and said, “There, now you have a place for your dagger and no one will be the wiser. Now,” she went on, “hold still for one more moment.” She placed her hands on the other side of the gown and said a few more magical words. “There is a place for your amulet, my Lady.”

Alana put her hand where Kayla’s had just been and felt a pocket of sorts, just the right size to fit her amulet. Then she touched the other side and felt a somewhat larger pocket that was just the right size and shape for a dagger. Both pockets were well hidden by the voluminous folds of the heavy silk. She turned to Kayla and said, “Thank you. But,” she added, “won’t the blade cut through the material?”

Kayla shook her head. “Oh no, my Lady. That pocket cannot be cut or torn. Now,” she went on, “Come and look at yourself.”

Kayla guided Alana over to the full-length mirror and then stepped back. Alana got her first full look at herself and gasped. “Is that me?” The girl staring back at her wasn’t the same girl that got dressed for riding that morning. This girl looked elegant and sophisticated, even beautiful.

Ophelia got tears in her eyes and said, “Oh, my Lady, you look just like…” she paused and covered her mouth with her hand.

Jena chimed in quickly, “You look just like a baroness.”

Kira handed Alana her dagger and amulet saying, “Lady Alana, it’s time to go down to dinner now.”

Alana slipped the dagger and the amulet into the newly formed pockets of her gown. She turned to the other three women and said, “Thank you.” She then preceded Kira out into the hallway.

As Alana was about to go towards the main staircase, she noticed the doors to her uncle’s rooms were open. She stopped in her tracks and walked over to his rooms—maybe he was here. Maybe that’s what the fancy dinner party was about and her father was just trying to surprise her. She hurried through the ante chamber into his bedroom but halted just inside the doorway. Iliard’s bedroom was completely devoid of everything that had been his. All the life he brought into it was gone. It was as if he had never been there at all. Alana tried unsuccessfully to blink away the tears that had come to her eyes. She bit her bottom lip as they fell unchecked down her cheeks. Uncle Iliard really was gone and, from the look of it, he was never coming back. She felt a hand gently touch her shoulder. “My Lady,” Kira said kindly, “We should go downstairs now. You’re father’s waiting.” She silently handed Alana a handkerchief.

Alana quickly wiped her eyes and her face. She took a deep breath and said, “All right, let’s get this over with. Who is here for dinner anyway?”

“Your father’s Barons and their families. And also Baron Galiblent and his son, my Lady.”

#

The largest formal reception room in Castle Candril was one hundred feet long and thirty feet wide, ornately decorated with marble statues, paintings and large mirrors. Floor to ceiling windows looked out over the outer courtyard and gardens. Eleven of Baron Candril’s most powerful barons were in attendance with their families and all were wondering the same thing—what were Galiblent and his son doing here? The eldest of them, Baron Erordin, was in fact speaking quietly to Bertrand about that very matter.

Baron Galiblent stood with his son in a quiet corner of the reception room. “Remember what I told you,” he whispered sternly, “You will behave yourself here or I’ll bring you to the post myself. You are not to lay a hand on that girl until it’s legal to do so. Have I made myself clear?”

“Abundantly and repeatedly, father,” the younger Galiblent replied wearily. Twenty-five year old Tribanius Galiblent III was a large man, although not as big as Bertrand, with a brutish look about him. He had the same cunning gleam in his eye as his father, but he lacked his refinement. “Besides,” he said, “How do you know she won’t throw herself at me anyway? We are the largest, richest and most powerful barony in Seldonia. I would think she’d want to be sure she sealed the deal. From what I hear she’s no Lady Mirasol.”

The door to the reception room opened and a servant announced, “Lady Alana Candril.”

When Alana walked through the door, all conversation stopped. Bertrand the Elder stood stone still and pale-faced as he stared at his daughter. Bertrand the Younger looked over the heads of the five young women who were vying for his attention to stare open-mouthed at his sister. The young men in the room murmured appreciatively. The other young noble women started to whisper to each other, obviously dismayed at this new competitor. Mirasol kept her expression carefully neutral as she watched Alana walk into the room. It would not do to show her displeasure at the attention the little harlot was getting. Mirasol knew that, after the initial surprise wore off, everyone’s attention would return to her.

Baron Galiblent leaned over to his son and said, “She may not be Mirasol Candril, but there’s enough promise of fire in that body to warm a man’s bed for many a night.”

Young Tribanius stared at Alana and whispered fiercely, “And she will warm my bed. Very soon.” He turned and looked at his father, his eyes glittering dangerously and said softly, “That is my wish, Father.”

Alana took a deep breath as she walked into the room. She was not used to having people give her so much attention. She scanned the crowd for familiar faces and saw her father staring at her as if he had seen a ghost. Her brow creased in bewilderment. She didn’t think she looked that different. She felt someone step in close beside her. She turned her head to find Kalan Neraso standing there with a big grin on his face. “Hey,” he said teasingly, “You want to ride now? I’ll bet I could beat you while you’re wearing that get up.”

She laughed aloud and said, “Shut up, Kalan,” as she elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow! That hurt,” he exclaimed, rubbing his abused ribcage.

Alana was instantly contrite. She kept forgetting that she hit harder than people expected. “I’m sorry, Kalan. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

“That’s all right,” he replied with a mischievous smile. He leaned in closer to her and whispered, “I’ll just require some compensation.”

“Compensation?” she asked, a little puzzled and a little wary. “What do you mean?”

“Just this,” he answered as he bent down and kissed her.

Alana blushed and smiled shyly. “I don’t mind that so much.”

Kalan took her hand and said softly, “Neither do I.”

The sound of a clearing throat made both of them jump. They turned and saw Bertrand the Elder standing there scowling. “Alana,” he said gruffly, “I want to introduce you to Baron Galiblent and his son.”

“Yes Father,” she answered. She gave Kalan’s hand a quick squeeze before she let go and then followed her father to the other end of the room. Before they reached the Galiblents, Alana stopped her father and asked quietly, “Father, why are they here? You hate Baron Galiblent.”

Bertrand didn’t answer right away. Finally he said, “Sometimes you have to do things you wouldn’t normally do to make things better in the long run.”

Alana was still pondering her father’s answer as they approached Baron Galiblent and his son. The closer she got to the pair, the more reluctant she felt to meet them. She didn’t at all like the way the younger Galiblent was staring at her, like he was hunting her. Bertrand stopped a few feet from them and said, “Baron Galiblent, Lord Galiblent, this is my daughter, Alana.”

Alana curtsied and said politely, “I am pleased to meet you.”

Baron Galiblent took Alana’s hand in his and replied, “And I am very pleased to meet you at last, Lady Candril. It seems you are one of Candril’s hidden treasures.”

It took every ounce of self-control Alana possessed not to tear her hand away from Baron Galiblent’s. But, when he finally let go, it only got worse because Tribanius the Younger took her hand and held it tightly in his. “I have been eager to meet you, Alana,” he said in a silky tone that made her shudder.

#

Alana sat on a stone bench in a secluded part of the gardens just outside the sanctuary of the Noble Gods. The evening’s festivities had been disturbing and confusing. For as long as she could remember, her father has professed a constant hatred for Galiblent. But today Galiblent and his son had been seated at the head table with Baron Candril and Baron Erordin. Alana had to endure the entire meal seated next to Tribanius the Younger. She would have much rather sat next to Kalan Neraso, but his family was relegated to a lower table. She had to watch helplessly as Relena Interlago flirted outrageously with him. Meanwhile, she had to try to be polite to the younger Galiblent when what she really wanted to do was get as far away from him as possible.

She had finally escaped by pleading a headache to her father. She saw Kalan wink at her as she made her exit. She also saw Tribanius the Younger glowering at her just before the door closed behind her. At least now she could breathe easier, even though she was disappointed that she couldn’t spend more time with Kalan. She sighed. Why was Galiblent here? What was her father thinking? What had his enigmatic response meant? An answer to her questions briefly flitted through her mind, but she pushed it away with disgust. Her father wouldn’t do that to her. Her thoughts were interrupted when Jena rushed into the garden.

“My Lady, my Lady, something awful’s happened,” Jena’s words came out in a tearful rush to Alana.

“Calm down, Jena,” Alana said, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Tears welled up in Jena’s eyes as she answered, “The baron’s son—he’s taken Lily.”

“The baron’s son? Which baron?”

“Baron Galiblent, my lady.”

“What do you mean he’s taken her?” Alana asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“He’s taken her to the stables,” she answered and then covered her mouth as a sob rose up in her throat. Alana’s eyes widened and her stomach clenched with fear for Lily.

Without another word she picked up her skirts and ran back into the castle, towards the kitchens. There was a covered entryway to the stables from the kitchens for days when the baron didn’t want to get wet checking on his horses. She raced through the kitchen and into the small room behind it. Fortunately, the door that led to the passage to the stable was barred on the kitchen side and the hinges were always kept well oiled. Alana quietly lifted the bar and opened the door a little. The muffled sound of a young girl weeping drifted to her and her heart contracted. She feared that she was already too late. She turned to Jena and said softly, “Go find her mother.” Jena covered her mouth with both hands and nodded tearfully, then turned and ran back into the kitchen.

Alana pulled the door open far enough for her to slip through and then closed it most of the way behind her. She quietly moved closer to the sound of Lily’s sobs. She heard a slap and young Galiblent say harshly, “Shut up, you little slut!” Alana felt rage build inside her. She crouched low and began moving swiftly and silently down the passage to the stables.

She finally came to the empty stall where Galiblent had taken Lily, arriving just in time to see him standing above the prone girl buttoning up his breeches. Alana saw the bloodstains on Lily’s skirts and her rage overwhelmed her. She stood and walked into the stall making sure Galiblent heard her. When he turned around, she grabbed his shirt and drove her knee into his groin. Before he even had time to gasp for air, she let go of his shirt and smashed her fist into his mouth, knocking him to the floor and drawing blood. She stood over him, her revulsion evident on her face and spat, “You disgusting pig! How dare you!? How dare you come to this castle and abuse our servants!?”

Young Galiblent glared at her through a haze of pain. Forgetting his father’s instructions, he reached up, grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her down to her knees. “You little bitch!” he shouted in rage, “I’ll have you stripped and riding underneath me before you even know what happened.”

His breath caught in throat and he lay stock still as he felt an increasing pressure against his most sensitive region. “Take your hands off me,” Alana growled low in her throat, “I know how to geld an animal.” Galiblent looked down to where her right hand was positioned and saw the glint of steel. Alana gained some small satisfaction from seeing a flicker of fear in his eyes. Very slowly and reluctantly, he loosed his grip on her arm.

A large pair of hands took hold of Alana’s arms in a vice-like grip. Startled, she dropped her dagger as she was literally lifted off the ground until her feet dangled a foot above the floor. She began to struggle violently against her unknown captor and managed to ram her foot hard into his shin. He grunted in pain and set her down on the ground, though he still held her arms firmly. This allowed Galiblent an opportunity to get to his feet. He wiped his bloodied mouth with his sleeve and took a step toward her, his face twisted with rage.

“Go ahead!” Alana said boldly, “My father will have you lashed at the post!”

Galiblent paused—he knew not only the truth of her threat, but also that his father would do nothing to stop it. But he knew something else as well. His lips curled up in a sneer as he said, “I suppose he would—just like he did you.” He knew he had hit his mark because Alana’s face went pale except for two bright pink spots on her cheeks. A sudden thought occurred to him and he decided to test his theory. He gently stroked Alana’s cheek, his mouth twisting at her obvious aversion to him, and said softly, “I wouldn’t dare to lay a hand on you sweet Alana—at least not until our wedding night.” His smug smile broadened at her look of complete shock. It was as he suspected.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice showing just the slightest hint of a tremor.

Galiblent raised his eyes in feigned amazement. “You mean your father hasn’t told you?” He paused for dramatic effect. “We are to be married. Tomorrow night is our betrothal feast.”

Alana glared at him and said hoarsely, “You lie.”

“While it is true that I lie about a great many things, this particular time I am speaking the truth.” He stepped in very close to her and whispered menacingly, “You and I are to be wed, my dear Alana.” Alana shuddered and felt like she was going to retch. “And believe me when I say,” he continued, still very softly, “I will get a great deal of pleasure from repaying you for the pain you have caused me today.” He picked up her dagger, grabbed hold of her hand and said, “Perhaps I will use this to mark you as mine.” He drew the blade lightly across her wrist. Alana’s eyes widened and for the first time in her confrontation with Galiblent, she felt a twinge of fear. Galiblent tucked her dagger into his belt. “I think you will find that things are much different in Galiblent. Slaves are to be used as we see fit. You would do well now to get used to the idea that girls like her,” he waved his hand dismissively at Lily, who was still lying on the ground, “are not worth even so much as a second thought, never mind the retribution I will seek because of what you did today.”

Once again the rage inside Alana flared and she spit in his face. “You worthless piece of filth! She’s worth a hundred of you.”

Galiblent wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, grabbed a fistful of her long hair and pulled hard. “You bitch. Our wedding day cannot come soon enough.” He let her go and, with a curt nod to his bodyguard, who then let go of Alana’s arms, walked out of the stall.

Alana stood there for a long moment, the shock of what he had told her still reverberating through her mind. Then she heard Lily sob and she pushed back her own fears for herself. She knelt down beside the stricken girl, eased her arm underneath her shoulders and said, “Come Lily, I’m going to bring you to your mother.” She got Lily to her feet and the two of them made their way slowly back to the door that led to the kitchen. Lily’s mother was waiting just outside the door and as soon as she saw her daughter, her eyes filled with tears. Lily burst into sobs once again and her mother folded her into her arms and held her tightly. Alana felt tears start in her own eyes. “I’m sorry Dahlia, I was too late to stop him.”

Dahlia shook her head, “Ye did what ye could, my lady. I’m real thankful for that.”

“I…I’m going to talk to my father,” she said rather distantly.

Dahlia got a look of fear in her eyes, “Oh please, my Lady, I don’t want to make no trouble.”

Alana came back to the present. “Trouble?” she said fiercely, “Galiblent’s the one who made the trouble.” She turned on her heel and strode back through the kitchen. Since it was many hours after supper, she knew that her father would be in his study. It was where he always went in the evenings.

She burst through the door without knocking. Bertrand looked up from the scroll he was reading in surprise when she burst into the room. “Alana?”

Alana wasted no time with preamble. “Tell me the truth,” she said harshly, “Am I betrothed to that bastard Galiblent?”

Bertrand stared at her for a long while before he answered. “Yes. Baron Galiblent and I have agreed to a marriage contract between you and Tribanius the Younger.”

“Then you had better UN-agree to it,” she snarled, “because I am not going to marry that filthy son of a worm-ridden dog.”

Bertrand’s eyes widened a little at his daughter’s use of such epithets. “Alana, the contract has been signed.”

“Signed!” she retorted in anger, “You didn’t even tell me! When were you going to tell me? Tomorrow night just before the betrothal feast? I cannot believe you didn’t even ask me.”

“Alana, it’s my duty to see you properly married and well provided for,” Bertrand responded in a tight voice.

“Duty!?” she shouted. “And I suppose it’s my duty to let that scum touch me? I am supposed to have his children so that means I have to let him rape me?” She swallowed hard in an effort to control her voice. She continued a little more quietly, “Do you know where I just came from? I just came from the stables. Would you like to know why I was in the stables?” She didn’t give her father time to answer. “I went there to stop that disgusting pig of a man from raping Lily,” she paused as tears threatened to choke her. She took a deep breath and continued, “Only I was too late.”

Bertrand stared back at her impassively, although, unnoticed by her, the fingers of his right hand twitched involuntarily, as if he were going to reach for a sword. His only response was, “I’m sorry, Alana.”

“Sorry! That’s all you have to say? By the gods Father!” her tears spilled over now, “She was a virgin!” She angrily wiped the tears from her face. “You’re not going to do anything, are you? Of course, why should you care? She’s just a slave.” She folded her arms and glared at him, waiting for his reply.

Finally, after a long silence he said, “I’m sorry Alana, there’s nothing I can do. The deed’s done and he is a high baron’s son. I have no control over his actions and I don’t need the money I would get as compensation for her violation.”

Alana stared at him aghast. “Compensation! How could you...? She paused and swallowed hard. “I’m not sure I know you anymore,” she said hoarsely.

“There are many things you don’t know, Alana,” Bertrand said quietly.

“And so,” Alana replied acidly, “You will marry me to this animal whether I will it or not, no matter what the consequences.”

“As I said before,” he responded gruffly, “The contract has already been signed.”

Alana’s throat constricted and she felt as though a large stone had fallen on her chest. Her own father had just effectively sold her into slavery. Certainly, she would be the wife of a powerful baron—but hers promised to be a future full of cruelty and pain. Young Tribanius Galiblent had sworn retribution and she believed him. After what he had done to Lily, there was no doubt in her mind that he would do the same and worse to her. After all, she would be his wife, his property.

While she was pondering all this, she never took her eyes off of her father’s. As always though, his expression betrayed no emotion as he met her gaze impassively. Alana knew then that there was no hope that he would change his mind, no matter what she said. Swallowing hard she asked hoarsely, “Is this what you meant when you promised me that everything would be all right? Were you already planning this when Gellmy tried to take me? Is that why you were so upset? You’re selling me for that land, aren’t you? I suppose it would have been terrible for you to lose your bargaining chip.”

She paused, thinking she had seen a flicker of a response in her father’s eyes. But she was mistaken. There was nothing. She bit her bottom lip hard before she spoke again. “You have condemned me to a life that will be far worse than slavery. I’ll never forgive you for this. It would have been better if you had let Gellmy take me. At least there would have been an end to the pain.” She turned to leave but then stopped and turned back to face Bertrand. “I thought you might like to know—Galiblent’s wedding gift to me will be to carve his slave mark into me with my own dagger. It seems fitting, doesn’t it?” Then she walked out of the room without another word.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Bertrand said to Neridius—who had been standing in the corner unseen by Alana—”Make sure there are guards outside her door and under her windows.”

Neridius bowed his head and replied, “It will be done as you wish, my lord.” Then he also left the study, leaving Bertrand alone.

Bertrand put his head in his hands and murmured, “May the gods forgive me.”

#

Alana sat in her window seat with the small blue vase in her hands. Surprisingly, she had no tears. She felt beyond tears. She had to find a way to get away from Castle Candril and the blue vase was the only way.

Her heart still ached whenever she thought about her father’s response. How could he allow such a thing? He must have known what Galiblent was like and yet he had sold her into marriage with him anyway. She was sure the elder Galiblent had promised to give back some of the lands that had been lost over the years. Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter—her father was selling her for political gain.

Alana clutched the vase tightly. She had never run away from anything. But there seemed no other way. She had only two choices—stay in Candril and marry Galiblent or leave forever. Although part of her balked at the idea of running away, the rest of her was screaming at her to leave now.

A knock on the door caused her heart to leap. Maybe her father had changed his mind after all. Ophelia glanced at her for permission and Alana nodded. She took that brief time to compose herself. To her disappointment and surprise, it was Lucine and Dahlia. Slaves were not normally allowed on the upper floors of the castle except for very specific reasons.

Dahlia approached, curtsied and said, “I wanted to thank ye again, my lady, for what ye did for Lily.”

Alana shook her head and said quietly, “I didn’t do anything. I was too late.”

“But ye did do somethin’, my lady,” Dahlia insisted. “Ye tried. And ye told Baron Galiblent that my Lily was worth a hundred of him. Ye don’t know what that meant to her. She nearly died from fright when she saw him go after ye. But ye stood up to him anyways. She won’t ever forget that, my lady. No one’s ever done that fer any of us before.”

“I only wish I could have done more,” Alana said ruefully.

Dahlia went to Alana and gently took the vase from her hands and set it down on the window seat. Then she took both of Alana’s small, trembling hands in her rough and calloused ones and said very softly, “Now ye listen to me, Miss Alana. Lily told me that yer father’s after makin’ ye wed that boy. I’m tellin’ ye this—get away from here as fast as ye can. Ye call on that uncle of yers and get him to come for ye. Ye deserve better than that.”

“I…thank you Dahlia,” Alana said quietly. She squeezed the woman’s hands before letting go.

“Good night, my Lady,” Dahlia said as she curtsied again and then went out into the hallway.

Lucine had been standing just outside Alana’s bedroom door, in the anteroom. After Dahlia left, she came into Alana’s bedroom and curtsied. Alana looked at Lucine and said, “Thank you for bringing her up here, Lucine. That was very kind of you.”

Lucine curtsied and again and replied, “You’re welcome, my Lady.”

She continued to stand there until finally Alana said, “Is there something you wanted, Lucine?”

Lucine let out a soft breath and began, “I know it’s not my place, my Lady. Dahlia can be excused because she doesn’t really know any better.”

Alana frowned in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Lucine took a deep breath before she answered. “You see, my Lady, it is not a servant’s place to advise their employer but, in this case, I feel I must speak. I know I cannot go to Baron Candril. He’s a hard man and wouldn’t listen to the ramblings of a housekeeper. But I must tell you that you are in danger.” She paused then went on softly, “I am very familiar with the Galiblent family, my cousin worked for them. My Lady, Baron Galiblent and his son are evil men. No female servant or slave is safe in their castle. My cousin was raped many times by the Baron until she was too old to please his eye. It has even been said that the Baron caused the deaths of his first two wives because they failed to bear him sons. His third wife also did not outlive him. His son is like him, only worse because the Baron has given him everything he ever wanted. Now that he’s seen you, his son wants you and the Baron will do whatever it takes to make sure his son gets you.” She moved in closely and spoke just above a whisper. “My Lady, if there is any way at all for you to contact Lord Iliard, I beg you to do it.”

Alana nodded slightly. “Thank you, Lucine.”

After Lucine left, Alana picked up the blue vase and put it on her window sill. When she leaned out of her window, she saw two guards standing below. She made sure that she made no sound when she shut her window, so as not to alert them or bring notice to the vase. Then she dressed for bed, already planning how she would get away the following night when Uncle Iliard would be there waiting for her. She briefly worried he would try to make her stay, but she soon threw that thought away—her uncle would never want her to marry someone like Tribanius Galiblent.

#

Alana awoke a short time later to the gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder. She gasped in fright, but the hand quickly covered her mouth and she heard a man’s voice in the darkness whisper, “Shhh. I mean you no harm.”

Alana’s heart was racing as she asked breathlessly when he uncovered her mouth, “Who are you?”

“I am a friend of your Uncle Iliard. Here.” She felt something soft being pressed into her hand and a familiar fragrance wafted to her nostrils. A very dim light shone right beside her. “Your uncle gave me this to assure you that he was the one who sent me.”

In the dim light Alana could just make out the small blue flower that had been placed in her hand. “The Blue Telari,” she whispered. Her Uncle Iliard had come for her tonight! How had he known that her need was so great? She sat up in bed and asked, “Where is he?”

“He is waiting for you at the bottom of the hill. We must hurry. Your father has set a watch on your room and on the grounds outside.” A pile of clothing was placed on her lap. “Put these on quickly,” the man’s voice whispered.

Alana didn’t need to be told twice. She handed the flower back to him, got out of bed and was barely behind the changing screen before her nightgown was off. She realized that she had been given the breeches, shirt and tunic that she usually wore when she was traveling with her uncle. When she put on her belt, she remembered Galiblent had her dagger now. With a sigh she gave it up as lost. At least she still had her amulet. When she emerged from behind the screen, the mysterious, cloaked messenger already had her traveling pack in his hand. She took it and was about to put it on when a thought occurred to her. She raced over to her window, opened it carefully and took down the blue vase. She grabbed a linen cloth from the writing table, wrapped it around the vase and put it in her backpack. “I’m ready,” she whispered.

The dim light went out. The man placed a heavy cloak on her shoulders. “Pull this tight around you and pull up the hood.” When she had complied he said, “Stand beside me.”

“But how are we going to get past the guards?” she asked.

The man shook his head but said nothing. Alana saw him move his hand slightly. A small point of light appeared in front of them. The point grew steadily larger and dimmer until it appeared as a wavering circle of pale blue light. The man put out his hand and said quietly, “Take my hand. We are going to walk through the portal.”

Alana hesitated. She had never seen anything like this “portal” before. She had no idea what was on the other side. But what else was she to do? If she wanted to get out of the castle tonight, this would be the only way. She took the man’s hand and took a deep breath. “Let’s go,” she whispered.

They walked through the portal and Alana felt like she had stepped into a long, silent tunnel. A tingling sensation started at her fingertips and radiated throughout her entire body. Her heart was beating very fast when they stepped through the other side and she found herself at the bottom of the hill below Castle Candril.

A hundred feet ahead, she saw a dozen hooded and cloaked figures on horseback. Panic rose in her chest because she didn’t see Iliard. Was this a trick? Was she being kidnapped? Her grip must have tightened on the man’s hand because he said reassuringly, “Do not be afraid. Your uncle is here.” He paused and then said, “I would ask that you not speak or show your face until your uncle tells you that it is safe to do so.”

“But, why?” she asked in a whisper.

“Because it must be,” he answered firmly. “Now, are you ready?” Alana nodded silently. The man walked towards the group of riders with Alana following close behind. The riders parted and Iliard rode through them leading another horse. Alana had to restrain herself from running up to her uncle and throwing herself into his arms. Iliard turned to the group and nodded his head silently. They all bowed their heads slightly and then rode off in pairs in six different directions. Iliard waited until they had all disappeared into the darkness before he dismounted. He looked at the man who was standing beside his niece and bowed his head. “Thank you, my friend.”

The man stepped forward, bowed slightly and handed Iliard the Blue Telari, “I am pleased that I could help, my Lord.”

“You have helped greatly,” Iliard responded. “If you could give us a few moments, we will be ready.”

The man bowed his head. “Of course.”

Iliard then turned to Alana, opened his arms and said, “You are safe now.”

With a muffled sob, Alana threw back her hood and ran into her uncle’s arms. Iliard held her close and let her tears run their course. Finally she quieted. Iliard gave her a handkerchief to wipe her face and blow her nose. When she was finished he said, “Alana, before we go any further, I need to know something.” When he was sure he had her complete attention, he went on, “I need to know if you are truly serious about your desire to train as a Ranger. Ranger training is very difficult and will take a long time. If you choose Ranger training, your life will be very different from what you have known up until now.”

Alana wasted no time in answering, “Yes, Uncle Iliard, I’m sure that is what I want for my life. I know it will be hard, but you’ve taught me so much already. I know I can do it.”

Iliard let out a soft sigh and nodded. “Then so be it.” He mounted his horse and indicated that Alana do the same. He nodded to the cloaked man, who raised his gloved hand palm outward. Once again the blue pinpoint of light appeared and grew into a shimmering portal. Iliard turned to the man and said, “Please send my greetings to your master.”

“I will, my Lord,” he replied.

Iliard nodded to Alana and nudged his horse toward the portal. “Where are we going?” she whispered.

“Adamnar.”

THE END