Page 54 of Burying Venus

Aleyn pointed a bony finger at him. ‘You think yourself wise! What do you know of our troubles? Lord Stanley had been trying to pass a motion to deprive us of our ancient dwellings long before your seduction! And what man reserves the right to owna home he himself does not live in? And, worse still, they have forbade us from using the communal fields where we plant our crop, saying we are instead to pay them for its use! It’s a shame they didn’t choke on that poison.’

Thinking of the lordling waiting in his bedroom, Dermot said, ‘Maldred is a demon, whatever you think, and if you’ve any fondness for this village, you’ll tell me what you know.’

‘Demon! Don’t use that talk with me, boy. You’ve been around foreigners for too long. There’s no such creature. The gods know the only evil is man, they need no excuse for our foulness.’ Aleyn sat back, watching him. ‘I shall give you what I have. A weapon I was entrusted with in my younger days when I rushed about and learnt the stories I tell, lived them. Though I suspect it won’t be enough for your purpose, and I would not put it to the task without her consent.’

‘Her?’ Dermot said, astounded. He recalled little of Aleyn’s tales, owing to the misery inflicted by his peers. That a weapon should be placed in his hands was incredible; long had he been told such an instrument was beyond him.

‘Yes, she who resides north of here. The keeper of this isle, Queen Fand. I would not let you undertake such a task without her explicit consent. She is a woman of remarkable bearing, perhaps best compared to the queen who fought when the mainland was invaded. A true pagan ruler. You must tell her all and spare nothing, no matter how inconsequential,’ Aleyn said. They sat like two men ensnared in a mist that bade no one enter.

‘I know nothing of this so-called queen,’ Dermot said, going to Aleyn’s side so the man wouldn’t strain himself. ‘Is she one of you? A wise woman, a soothsayer?’

‘No!’ Aleyn cried. ‘She is our queen, the lady entrusted with this isle, and more importantly, queen of all faeries who dwell here. Everything she says must be heeded. She is to be treated with the greatest respect. She will tell you what must be donewith Maldred and, if she sees fit, will advise you on the wisest course. The dagger is to protect you on the way, in case you encounter any spirit sent by Maldred, for he too is prince of his own realm.’

He had lain with this prince and rutted him with all the force of a soldier during a siege, doing what such men did with spoils of war. A faint and bloody recollection that made him shudder.

‘You must go now. Begone from this village, we have no need for you. You can only sort this matter out through Queen Fand. I will have no more to do with it,’ Aleyn said, shuddering as he stood.

‘I will not go now,’ Dermot protested. ‘Aubrey needs rest, so do I. We will go tomorrow. And it will be to stop Maldred before he hurts my mother, nothing more.’ Fae, mischievous and seductive as they were, were nothing more than the incubi spoken of in foreign tales. He had no desire to witness this woman, queen though she may style herself. If Maldred was a prince, he may find the queen altogether worse than he. The idea of them having lived alongside humankind for so long gave him cause to wonder if they were the cause of society’s ills.

‘Traded one tempter for another, have you?’ Aleyn grasped the handle, heaving the door open with great force, and stepped into the storm without flinching. He flung the door closed with equal resolve.

Dermot stood, walking to where Aubrey lay prone on his bed. He got down instead on the hard wood of the floorboards.

Chapter Eleven

He woke to wind beating soundly against his childhood home. Incredulous, Dermot stumbled to his feet. He hadn’t slept so well in a long time. He’d always been ill at ease in the castle, something which seeped into his dreams. Now, though his bed was on the floor, he felt safer than he’d been in the bondage of servitude.

Upon hearing a faint noise, Dermot hurried to find Aubrey sitting at the table, Breesha having prepared some pottage for them.

Aubrey’s eyes went from his breakfast, a creamy slop Dermot recalled all too well, to him. Those dark eyes lit the room, juxtaposed as his delicate breeding was with Breesha’s threadbare living. Black eyelashes fluttered and fanned onto the pale skin beneath them, and Dermot knew he could stare no longer.

‘Aubrey,’ Dermot murmured. ‘I hope you slept well.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Aubrey said. They made eye contact for but a moment before he shied away, lips pursed.

Not knowing what else to do, Dermot went timidly to where the pottage sat and poured himself a bowl. Too wary to join Aubrey, he sat further away.

Taking the pottage into his mouth, he realised how hungry he’d become. Owing to Béchard’s abuse, he suspected he was more capable than Breesha, but the pottage was like ambrosia. It was a meal prepared by choice, not by the hands of servants.

‘We’ll have to go soon. Your brother…’ Dermot began, hating that Robert always lingered between them. ‘It isn’t safe to stay. They’ll know we’re both gone by now.’

Aubrey’s eyes, black in their sensuality but childlike in their innocence, met his. ‘What shall we do?’

‘We…’ Dermot began, hesitant. Aubrey wouldn’t trust his ravings, no matter their tentative friendship. ‘We will go away from here, the two of us, as I said.’ It was true enough. Many people never left their villages, never mind ventured north. It was another country to them, and even they sneered at those who had the misfortune to be born a few meagre miles away. Dermot had no inkling of what northerners would be like; they might’ve lived in huts and survived solely from hunting.

His eyes caught Aubrey’s again. It was the first time the boy didn’t hide from him, as he often would on the rare occasion they had cause to be in the same room. Eyes like the void stared back at him, endearing only because Aubrey’s lips quirked in a smile. His virgin naivety was wholly unlike Will’s mischievous looks or Thorne’s strange allure.

As Dermot strove to think of some comment about the food, the door swung open with all the strength of an ox, the morning’s gale hitting them full force.

‘Finally up, are you? Only let you sleep because of your lateness last night, didn’t I, else I’d have dragged you out myself. Your Aubrey was up and dressed just as I was, don’t you know,’ Breesha said. Dermot startled as she came in, so afeared of Robert and his soldiers. ‘Thought you’d sleep the whole morning, I did. But never you mind, a meal at midday is right and proper.’

‘Midday!’ Dermot shouted. ‘We should be gone by now. Robert may already have a force to go after us! Why didn’t you wake me?’ Though he should’ve been ashamed of his outburst, he could think of nothing but Robert’s cruelty. He’d have faced trial simply for leaving without notice, but now his reality would be torture and execution. Robert could’ve asked for no finer excuseto start another burning. Going immediately to his feet, Dermot ran a hand through his hair as to near rip it out.

‘You’ll be thanking me for it!’ Breesha said. ‘I’ve been into the village, I have, talking to our neighbours about the matter with old Aleyn. Arranged a nice cart for you, donkey and all.’

Dermot’s hands fell slack as he watched for any sign of deception. No one in the village showed him any kindness. The parents of the boys who’d pestered him despised his mere existence.

‘Come out now, won’t you? We’ll be seeing you off,’ Breesha said.