The House Of Gaian
stewardship over portions of the land, giving you a place to live in your own way, just as we set aside portions of the land for the Fae and the Small Folk and the wild things of the world. Stewardship, Baron. Stewardship. You do not own the Mother.”
Aiden wrote frantically, part of him fearful of what she was going to say and another part hoping she wouldn’t object if he shaped those words into a song.
“This is what we have decided. The barons in the west, in the midlands, and in parts of the north, south, and east will retain stewardship of the lands they now hold. But the land that was held by the barons who followed the Inquisitors is forfeit. All of it.”
A swell of protest rose from the barons, cut off abruptly when Liam raised his hand.
“Wise of you, Grandson who is also a baron.”
Aiden wrote frantically, aware that Lyrra was scribbling just as fast.
“The land is forfeit. However, we recognize that your people have already suffered much, and turning them off the land they have worked would be cruel and unjust. Therefore, they may stay if they wish—
but under the rule of the House of Gaian.
“Sons and Daughters who are willing to leave their homes in the Mother’s Hills will take up stewardship of those lands. The boundaries of the Old Places will be walked again. The land will be reclaimed as a home for the wild things and the Small Folk— and the Fae. Other Sons and Daughters who have the strength and skill will do what they can to reopen the shining roads and free the Fae who were trapped there. This is what we have decided.”
“And if we don’t agree?” one of the barons asked.
The Crone raised one hand, palm up. “Earth. Air. Water. Fire. These are what we hold in our hands.
Can you live without them?”
Aiden stopped writing, suddenly aware that his pen scratching on the paper was the only sound in the room.
“It is justice,” Liam finally said, bowing his head.
The Crone nodded. “As we will, so mote it be.” As she walked out of the room, she paused and looked at Breanna. “We will talk, Granddaughter.”
“As you will,” Breanna replied.
Ashk rose from the table. “Breanna? Are you nervous about talking to her?”
Breanna smiled weakly. “A little.”
“She isn’t really your grandmother.”
“She and Nuala were cousins. So she is the elder most closely related to me now.”
Liam stood up. “It would seem this meeting is concluded.” He turned toward Breanna. “We can talk to her in the morning room.”
“She wants to talk to me, Liam, not us.”
“Well, she gets to talk to us.” Pushing past Ashk and Selena, he strode to the doorway and stood beside it.
Breanna muttered, “Featherhead,” and walked out of the room with Liam right behind her.
“Selena?” Donovan asked. “If I may ask a question? What makes the Crones entitled to make such decisions about the world?”
Selena hesitated, then raised one hand, palm up. “The Crones who rule the Mother’s Hills are the ones whose power comes from all four branches in equal measure.”
“Could she do what she implied? Could any of those women take away the world?”
Selena lowered her hand. “That is not a question you should ask of the House of Gaian. But there is a poem that gives the answer.”
“I know it.”
After Selena walked out of the room, the rest of the people trickled out as well until only Donovan, Aiden, and Lyrra were in the room.
Lyrra glanced at Aiden and gathered up her papers, quills, and ink pot. “I’d better make a fairer copy while I remember what all these scribbles mean.”
When he and Donovan were alone, Aiden asked, “What is the answer?”
‘“If roused, their wrath can shake the world / And men will not see the light of day again,’” Donovan replied.
“Mother’s mercy.”
“That’s what we all stake our lives on, Bard. The Mother’s mercy. And the mercy of Her Sons and Daughters.” Donovan struggled to stand up.
“Do you want help getting back to your room?”
Donovan gave Aiden a wan smile. “I wouldn’t refuse it. Right now, I wouldn’t turn down a bowl of chicken soup.”
The Crone gave Liam a cool stare. He stared back, not sure why he was so primed to fight, except that Breanna had already been through enough.
“I asked to talk to Breanna,” the Crone said.
“Then talk. But I’m staying.”
“Oh, sit down, Liam,” Breanna said.
He sat on the sofa, close enough to her that their shoulders brushed.
“Now,
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