The Moon Casts a Spell: A Novella (The Child of the Erinyes) by Rebecca Lochlann

Author:Rebecca Lochlann [Lochlann, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Child of the Erinyes
Publisher: Erinyes Press
Published: 2014-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

Greyson’s Orders

* * * *

1845

XIII.

An ominous rumble of thunder split the heavens and vibrated through the boat rail under Aodhàn’s hands as Lilith and Faith hurried away from the pier at Castlebay. The rain, which had thankfully held off during their tumultuous voyage back to Barra, unleashed all at once, with stinging ferocity, from low, greenish-black clouds.

The torrent immediately swallowed the two women behind a murky curtain.

When the messenger brought the news of Daniel’s worsening illness to Mingulay, Lilith had insisted on going back. Faith had agreed, and Aodhàn decided to escort them, leaving Sarah, Euan, and Kenneth on Mingulay.

The wind intensified long before they reached Barra. Lilith and Faith had to bend over and hold their bonnets on their heads as they raced off toward their cottage.

Sheets of hail joined the rain as Aodhàn struggled towards Bishop House. Within moments, a layer of ice slicked the ground as far as he could see. He was shivering by the time he reached the manor house, and glad to find a fire in the drawing room.

Greyson came forward quickly and helped Aodhàn remove his sodden coat. “I was afraid you would come back as soon as you received my message,” he said. “I’m relieved you made it safely, my lord. Are storms like this routine here?”

“Damned if I know,” Aodhàn said roughly. “I’m freezing.”

“Come stand by the fire. I’ll ring for tea.”

The one local woman left to cook and care for the house while the family was gone soon brought a tray. Greyson poured, and Aodhàn began to feel warmer. When they were alone, he said, “Well? Tell me. What’s happened? Did you do as I asked?”

“Yes, my lord.” Greyson sighed deeply and studied the fire. A lump of coal dropped out through the grate. He swept it up and slid it back in. “He died a few hours ago.”

“He’s dead? The messenger said he was ill.”

“Yes, when I sent notice, he was alive. Barely.”

Aodhàn paused as a fresh shiver, not caused by the weather, ran through him.

Daniel was dead.

Menoetius. The king of Idómeneus’s beloved bastard son. A handsome boy, until the lioness got hold of him.

Another uncontrollable chill ran over Aodhàn. He turned quickly, sure someone had come in and was watching them, but there was no one. No one but Greyson, who remained by the fireplace, his shoulders slumped. Yet the feeling persisted.

“How did you do it?”

“Arsenic,” Greyson said, so low Aodhàn almost didn’t hear him. “They’ll all think it cholera— I hope.”

“How? How did you— what did you— did he drink it? Eat it?”

“Cora, the girl who brought your tea just now? She’s been feeding Daniel as well as me, since he came every day to care for the horses. I mixed it in his porridge.”

Greyson studied him, his expression morose, almost accusing.

There had been no other way. Lilith’s loyalty would never allow her to succumb to Aodhàn’s advances, no matter how much she wanted to. Once upon a time, Queen Aridela of Crete had carried more loyalty in a single strand of hair than any man he’d known.

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