Anne Bishop - The House of Gaian

"Baron Donovan," Liam replied. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"You left Durham in a hurry." Donovan watched Liam intently.

"I had reasons." None he was willing to share until he knew why Donovan was here.

The door of the first coach opened. Liam saw one of the guards hastily extend a hand as a hooded figure stepped down.

A flicker of—fear?—swept over Donovan's face as the hooded figure came forward. Then his face became hard, his expression determined.

"Answer one question so I'll know if we're wasting our time," Donovan said. "Where witches are concerned, where do you stand?"

The heat under his skin was intolerable. He wanted a few minutes to quietly focus in order to try to bank the power he had raised. Since he wasn't going to get those few minutes . . .

He raised his hand, releasing the power as he pointed at the wood.

Flames roared out of the bucket, shooting up to twice his height before settling back down to something closer to a normal fire.

While the men fought to get the horses under control, the hooded figure seemed to stare at him. Liam was trying to think of something to say when Breanna galloped around the corner of the house and reined in. Her eyes took in the men and nervous horses, then settled on the hooded figure for a moment before she flung herself out of the saddle and strode forward, her eyes now focused on the barons.

When she stopped, she pointed a finger at Donovan. "If you raise so much as a finger here to do harm, I will summon a wind that will knock you all into the sea!"

Strong female hands suddenly flung the hood back, revealing an attractive woman who glared at Breanna. "If you knock us into the sea, then I'll summon the sea and send a wave back here that will turn this place into a lake!"

Tension buzzed around the women for several seconds—seconds when no one, not even the horses, dared move. Then they grinned at each other.

"Where are you from?" Breanna asked.

"The midlands, on the northwest side of the Mother's Hills," the woman replied.

"Do you have kin in the hills?"

"I do. And you?"

"I do."

"I'm water."

"I'm air. And he's"— Breanna glanced at Liam before looking at the bucket of burning wood—"learning."

The woman's lips twitched. "So I see."

Now that his heart seemed able to get some blood back up to his brain, Liam noticed how pale the other barons were—and the stunned expression on Donovan's face.

"Since Liam's being a featherhead, I'll pretend I live here and offer you some refreshments."

The woman gave Liam an uneasy look. "You don't live here?"

"Why would I?" Breanna asked, surprised.

"Then, perhaps . . ."

"It will be fine. Since Liam's mother and sister—"

"Youngest sister," Liam cut in, bristling.

Breanna rolled her eyes. "Since they're staying at the Old Place with us, Sloane is quite happy to take household instructions from any sensible person."

"I'm sensible!" Liam said.

"Of course you are."

"Refreshments sound lovely," the woman said quickly.

"This way," Breanna said, leading the way into the house. "Where are your kin in the Mother's Hills?"

Liam didn't hear the answer since the door had closed behind the two women.

He and Donovan eyed each other.

"She's . . .?" Donovan asked.

"My sister," Liam replied. He gestured toward where the other woman had stood. "And she's . . .?"

"My wife."

The door opened again, and two junior footmen came out with buckets of water.

"Mistress Breanna said we should douse the fire," one of them said.

"Unless you want the ladies to summon a bit of a cloud to rain on it," the other added.

They looked so disappointed when he sighed and told them to just douse the damn fire. They all watched the water quench the fire—except for one chunk of wood at the top, which stubbornly kept burning despite being watersoaked.

"She's right, you know," Donovan said blandly.

"About what?" Liam asked.

"You are still learning."

Liam just shook his head. "Gentlemen, why don't we join the ladies for some refreshments? Then you can tell me why you're here."

Donovan looked back at the guard captain. The man said, "We'd prefer to stay out here, if it's all the same to you."

Liam nodded. "Go on to the stables. You can feed and water the horses if you like." He led the barons into the house while some of the guards took up a position in front of the house to watch the drive and the others took the horses and coaches to the stables.

The refreshments were being set on a low table when the men entered the room. Now that the immediate crisis had passed, he realized he was still scared to the bone—and he knew why. So after inviting his guests to help themselves, he hustled Breanna out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"Could you do that?" Liam asked urgently.

"Leave guests to serve themselves?" Breanna replied. "Apparently, I can."

"No. Not that. Could you really summon a wind that could reach the sea?"

She stared at him as if he'd just stripped off his clothes and started dancing on top of the refreshments. "Are you daft! Do you know how far that is?"

Of course he did. That's why it had scared him. "So what was that? A witch's version of a pissing contest?"

She pondered that before nodding. "Yes."

He closed his eyes.

"Did you get the fire put out?" Breanna asked.

"Most of it."

"That's fine then. Come and have some tea. You look like you could use it."

Personally, he thought the men, at least, could all use a healthy dose of whiskey. Ah, well. He could serve that kind of refreshment later.

"You did the right thing," Donovan said two hours later, after Liam had told the other men how he'd been poisoned at his club, and how Padrick had intervened, not only saving him from the men who had been sent to kill him once the poison made him vulnerable but also getting him out of Durham—and getting him home. After he told them the contents of the letter his mother's cousin had sent to her, revealing the truth about the "procedure" the eastern barons wanted performed on all women, the level of whiskey in the decanter dropped considerably.

Liam shifted in his chair. The dining room didn't have the most comfortable chairs, but it had the accommodation of the table that made it easier for the men to see each other as they talked. Besides, any other room would have made this conversation feel too informal.

"I regret not being there for the vote," Liam said, running a finger around the rim of his glass.

Donovan shook his head. "Your absence—and Padrick's— served better than your presence could have. Those two empty seats made too many barons nervous, especially after Hirstun said you must be too ashamed to show your face for the vote. Mother's tits! Anyone slightly acquainted with you knew you'd show up for the vote after that speech you made, and if you didn't, there would be a reason for it. When Padrick didn't show up"— he shrugged, but he looked uncomfortable—"that told the rest of us how the western barons would vote, and we all knew we were no longer voting on the proposed decrees. East and west were now on opposing sides, and when the rest of us voted, we were indicating which side we were standing with."

Liam studied the other five men. "You all voted against the decrees."

"We wouldn't be here if we hadn't," Donovan replied sharply. He raked his fingers through his hair, the gesture full of frustration. "All the midland barons voted against the decrees. So did most of the northern barons. The southern barons were almost equally divided. That isn't the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is we're going to war. The eastern barons are going to combine forces and gather arms and men, and it's a good bet they'll be supported by arms and men from Wolfram since that's where the Inquisitors came from. The barons from Arktos might send even more men against us if the Black Coats have control of them as well. What have we got? Even if we use every guard from every village, it won't be enough. Not if the eastern barons have Wolfram and Arktos fighting with them. Liam—" Donovan raked his fingers through his hair again—"things can be said on a journey that are confidential, and I'm not asking you to break another man's trust. What I am asking . . . There has to be a reason why the other western barons defer to Padrick. If you know why, please tell us. By allying with the west, we've placed the welfare of our people in his hands."