MEETING IN THE EAST WING
“Aili?”
Amabel called uncertainly up the darkened stairs before her. It was afternoon, but somehow this part of the castle was filled with heavy shadow.
Amabel paused. She had washed and dressed carefully, choosing a blue gown almost the color of stone, which matched her eyes. She had completed all her chores that morning and then headed up to the East Wing. Any visit here required some special preparation – some said it was venturing into the den of witchcraft. Lochlann’s only living sister Aili was believed by most to have magical powers. Amabel was determined not to believe the idle talk, but she could not be sure, and her aunt's choice of living quarters was discouraging.
The eastern wing of the castle was almost unoccupied. Damaged in the only siege in their records, the Siege of Lochlann, it was rumored to be cursed. Few went there now and it was dark and always chilly. Amabel held her breath, feeling a draft of icy air blow down the stairs to her. She shook her head. It's just a breeze, Amabel. Still. The whole east wing was shrouded in gloom, ruinous and neglected.
Of the Lochlann family, only Aunt Aili chose to stay here. Amabel shivered, thinking of it. She could not understand why. Surely, she would be happier in the warmth and security of the body of the castle? The eerie setting of the east wing as the sun set made the rumors that surrounded her aunt believable. Amabel knocked on the dark wood door.
“Aili?”
She listened at the dark-stained wood, ear pressed to it.
“Come in.”
Amabel shivered. The voice, distorted by the cold wind and the thick door, had an unearthly sound to it, a complete lack of humanity. She drew in a breath, leaned on the door-handle and went inside.
The room beyond the door could not have been less like the outside. The room inside was glowingly warm, thick tapestries covering its walls, drapes shutting out the dark evening. Lit with a ruddy glow, everything within was lively and inviting.
The rooms in the east wing were small, not having been modernized since the times of Builder Brian, Amabel's distant ancestor who had built the first fortifications over two centuries ago. But this room was welcoming and snug because of its smallness.
“Come in!” a voice called. Amabel looked across to the seat which was set in the back wall and smiled at the woman who sat before the fire.
She had a strong face, with high cheekbones and a shock of white hair, pulled back from her skull into a severe style. The family resemblance was there, except, where Amabel's mother's face had been gravely lovely, this woman's face was far from grave. Her eyes were warm and friendly, her cheeks round, a face that was a little like that of Chrissie, only aged and warmed and softened. They were gray-blue eyes, almost the same shade as her own, but paler, and brimful of life. They twinkled at Amabel.
“Welcome, niece!” The older woman slowly stood and walked forward. “My, but you look like your mother. Bonny and lovely.”
“Aunt Aili.” She bent to embrace the woman, who smelled of rose-water and gardenia.
“Oh, stop your fussing, sweet Amabel. Call me Aili if you will. We do not observe strict courtesy in this place.” She turned and clapped her hands. “Come on! We have visitors. Let us fetch lady Amabel some cakes and ale. We have not all forgotten our manners, for all that we live outside the constraints of Lochlann Castle.”
Amabel smiled and she saw an elderly servant appear seemingly from nowhere and rush to do her auntie's bidding.
“So. Have ye come tae visit yer puir wee auntie?” Aili grinned winningly, changing her accent to a broad dialectic burr.
Amabel rolled her eyes at her and laughed. “Oh, Auntie! It is good to see you.”
“Nonsense! It is good to see you, dear.” Aili smiled. She sat down at a small table, carved and polished and fine, wincing as she bent her knee. “I hear little of the outside world, but I miss nothing. I am sorry I could not attend your wedding. I was unable to leave my bed.”
Amabel reached across to pat the older woman's hand. Fingers that were bent and thickened with arthritis rested on the table, reaching to grip those of her niece.
“I knew you were with me in heart, if not in body,” Amabel replied.
Her aunt grinned.
“I was, dear. Now. Have you come to ask me about your husband? Or is Alina asking me about hers? The one she wants.”
Amabel stared at her. The rumors, she was sure, were almost true. There was certainly something uncanny about her aunt. “How do you know?”
Her aunt chuckled. “I don't know, dear. It feels like a guess. But if it's a guess then I should bet on races at the spring fairs, and it doesn't work so well for me then.” She giggled.
Amabel shook her head in wonder. “I did want to ask you about him, Auntie. Yes.”
“Good,” Aili said cheerily. “Oh, here we are. Put them on the table, will you? Thank you.”
The maid had appeared with a jug of ale, two goblets and a plate of jam tartlets. Amabel took one, smiling as she bit into the intensely sweet red-currant jam. Aili poured ale for them and grinned.
“Now, dear. Whatever your husband is doing, he's doing it for some misguided reason of his own. 'Tis not your fault.”
Amabel felt as if someone had opened a little door in her heart and let light enter it. “Really?” She swallowed a mouthful of cake, staring at her aunt with amazement.
Aili laughed. “Of course, dear. I remember my own dear Alec. Complete fool sometimes, may he rest in peace, but whenever he was being difficult it was as a result of something worrying him.”
Amabel sighed. “That makes things seem clearer.”
Aili smiled. “And your husband is a troubled soul, is that not right? Haunted, he is. So many demons. Duty, honor, guilt... it's a wonder he can sleep at night.”
Amabel stared at her. “That is all true.” She would have been frightened, had she not known Aili all her life and been used to her ability to see things. Knowing her, she was simply grateful for her abilities. “Thank you.”
Aili chuckled. “Anytime, dear. And you should ask Alina to see me when she has a chance. That girl could be a gifted healer, if she let herself. Lots I have to say to her.”
Amabel felt her brow lift. My sister is a healer? That made sense. She could fully imagine it. And if Aili said so, she knew it was right. “I will, Auntie. I am sure she wants to talk to you as well.”
Aili smiled. “Oh, I have no doubt, my dear. Your sister's heart is troubled. She will seek me out when she wishes to. She always does.”
Amabel nodded. She lifted her glass and let the warm ale flow through her, warming her blood. It did nothing to warm the chill that crept over her. Aili was... disconcerting. She always was.
“And so, this man of yours is not here now, then?” Aili asked questioningly. “I understand there's a raid on?”
“Yes. There is. You saw it from the walls?”
Aili chuckled. “Impossible to miss news in this castle. Doesn't matter where I was when they left.”
Amabel was left with the slightly discomforting notion that Aili did not need to obtain information from human sources. “Yes, Auntie.”
Aunt Aili chuckled. “Well, all I can say is, mind your man is fighting on the right side. Seems to me there's more to raids than who's raiding. There's more to blame than who's doing.”
Amabel frowned at her. That made no sense. But she knew Aili, and knew it would in time.
“Yes, Auntie.”
Aili raised a brow. “Don't ‘yes, Auntie.’ I know full well you think I talk nonsense, young lady. But mind me. It will make sense one day.”
Amabel swallowed hard. “I know. I trust you.”
Her aunt chuckled. “Good.”
She fixed her with that stone-blue gaze. Then, as abruptly, she looked away.
“I was meaning to ask you, dear... when you go into the town, do you think you could fetch me up a bolt of cloth? Only I wanted to put a tapestry on that wall over there. I was thinking perhaps gray velvet?”
Amabel blinked. From prophecy and enigma to down-to-earth and ordinary, in an instant? That was Aunt Aili. She was a dear, adorable auntie one moment, and then a spine-chilling soothsayer the next. Amabel was not sure whether she loved Aili or if she was terrified of her.
All she knew for certain was that she was always right.
She stayed on for another half an hour, chatting and talking and sharing village gossip and news of the castle, and then she left.
In her bedchamber, she curled up on the bed, shivering. She was relieved, scared and baffled all at once. She had a lot to say to Broderick when he came home.