Aislin of Arianrhod (Land of Alainnshire) Read Online Free

hear you down at the stables.”
    Aislin laughed again. “I’m so glad to see you, Roderic. I’ve missed you.”
    “I have something to show you. I wanted you to see it first.” Roderic withdrew a small canvas from the satchel he carried with him. Aislin lifted her chin trying to see the painting around his slender hands, but he kept it turned away from her.
    “Don’t tease me. Who is that?” she asked.
    She caught her breath as Roderic turned it around. The room felt as though it had been vacuumed of oxygen.
    The oil painting featured a sandy-haired boy, dressed in a tunic of purple and gold, with the shield of Arianrhod embroidered on the breast. A lop-sided smile spread across his face, and a glint of playful deviltry gleamed in his golden brown eyes.
    Aislin was breathless as she ran her fingertips over the face in the picture. A tumble of memories came to her, so vivid they were painful.
    “Is this...is this Bryce ?” she asked, lifting her eyes to Roderic’s.
    “It is. I thought maybe you’d like to see what a fine young man your nephew has become.”
    “His eyes. His eyes are...are Fionn’s,” she said in a whisper. Her own eyes filled with tears.
    “Oh, come now, Aislin,” said Roderic, as he handed her his kerchief. “I didn’t intend to make you cry.”
    “I can’t help it. He looks so much like my brother.” She put a hand to her cheek. “Has Gwen seen this yet?”
    “No. I’d like you to be there when I show it to her.” Roderic gave her a hopeful look as he put the painting away.
    “She hasn’t seen his face for almost eleven years,” Aislin said, sniffling. “You go on up. I’ll be right there. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
    Roderic Warren had forgotten how much he loved Arianrhod, the land of his birth. He’d been in Wyndham with Prince Bryce for the last ten and a half years, and he’d been so busy there, he hadn’t had time to miss it much. Now that he was home, the smallest things were triggering a flood of memories, both good and bad. He’d been reluctant to make the trip, but now he was glad he’d come.
    It filled him with joy to see Aislin, and the refined, elegant woman she had become. She had not had the best of childhoods. In fact, she’d been a dirty, scrappy little hellcat as a child.
    He pushed open the large oak door into the sewing room. Aislin’s mother Emara, Gwen, and Maeve looked up as he entered. The three women were sitting on stools by the open window, each drawing needle and thread through cloth held taut by an embroidery hoop.
    “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” said Gwen, looking up at Roderic shyly. “Where is Aislin?”
    “Still down in the dining hall. She’ll be along directly.”
    Emara pursed her lips with displeasure. “I wouldn’t hold my breath. My daughter does things in her own good time. I should be surprised if she makes it up here at all.”
    Roderic frowned at her tone. “She’ll come. She said she would.”

    Aislin wanted to go to the sewing room in the right frame of mind, so she finished her cobbler and helped the kitchen staff clear the rest of the dishes from the table.
    She pushed through the door into the courtyard, but she didn’t get very far. The fountain called to her, and she sat down on the edge. Removing her shoes, she swung her feet into the fountain and splashed absent-mindedly, watching butterflies go from flower to flower. It was peaceful here, and she was loath to give it up.
    You can’t put this off forever. Just go up there and get it over with .
    Sighing, she pulled her feet out of the fountain, picked up her shoes, and headed for the door into the entrance hall.
    The noises were subtle at first, but they were out of place for such a beautiful day. She went still at the banging, shouts, and shuffling, her hand lightly touching the door latch, trying to decide if she’d heard them at all.
    And then they grew louder. Added to the cacophony were horses shrieking and men’s