The Lady of the Mirrored Lake by Jennifer Ivy Walker

Author:Jennifer Ivy Walker [Walker, Jennifer Ivy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fairy tales; medieval romance; fairies; druid; romantic fantasy; medieval knight; legends and myths; paranormal; shapeshifter; witch; healer; wizard;
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2022-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Le Cheveu d’ Or

Issylte wrapped her cape tightly around her shoulders and pulled her hood up over her damp hair, for the early October wind chilled her to the bone. The frigid water of le Miroir aux Fées had nearly paralyzed her limbs when she left the island of the Gallizenae and traveled through la Porte du Dedans. She now rubbed her arms briskly and trotted through the woods toward le Château de Landuc to warm up as best she could, eager to return to the Tribe and share her newfound knowledge.

On horseback, the trek would only take minutes, but on foot, it had taken over an hour to finally reach the castle gate, which she now approached in the afternoon setting sun. The sentries spotted her from the barbican defense towers and called for the gate to be opened so that she could enter. Issylte crossed the wooden drawbridge over the moat into the castle bailey where members of the Tribe of Dana rushed to welcome her home.

Laudine, Esclados, Lancelot, and others rushed to greet her, anxious to hear news of her trip to l’ Île de Sein and the Priestesses of the Gallizenae. The Lady of the Fountain took her cloak, wrapped a warm blanket around her, and settled Issylte in front of a roaring fire with a cup of mulled wine. The warm, spicy taste made her think of Ronan, which also reminded her that she now needed to travel to Avalon to ask him to forge the exceptional sword for Tristan. She shuddered to think of facing him—and of asking him for such an extraordinary favor. He just has to say yes. I must find a way to convince him.

After she’d warmed up and eaten a light meal, Issylte looked at the expectant faces of the friends who were seated around her at the table in the cozy alcove of the kitchen. Kirus had his arm wrapped around Nolwenn; Lysara rested her head on Solzic’s shoulder; Lancelot sat beside Issylte, his presence comforting and reassuring. Laudine hovered over them all like a mother hen. Issylte’s heart overflowed with gratitude for this Tribe. Her family. Whose help she now needed to rescue Tristan.

Kjetil and Lancelot had told her of the ordeal at le Château Rose where Blanchine had been murdered and Tristan imprisoned for the crime. He’d been arrested and taken by ship to Cornwall, where he now languished in the dungeon of Tintagel, facing execution.

Issylte informed the Tribe of Dana that she’d learned from the Gallizenae that Voldurk and the queen had duped Blanchine and killed her, making it appear as if Tristan had committed the murder.

“We must rescue him,” Issylte urged the Tribe, whose concerned faces were rapt with attention. “The Gallizenae taught me how to cast my spirit as a white dove.” She locked eyes with Lancelot, her heart racing with adrenaline. His brilliant blue gaze blazed with intensity. “I must fly into his prison cell and undo Voldurk’s evil spell with le cheveu d’or.

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