Daughter of the Sea

“I wish you all the best, my dear Liadan,“ she whispered, holding her close. “Just let me know what needs to be done and I will make sure that no harm will come to you in the process. Hopefully this will yield the result you’re hoping for.“ Cyra selfishly thought about the fact that in order to keep Liadan close, they would probably not be able to meet again and the idea made her heart ache horribly.

“I’ll send word once I’ve got it all worked out,” Liadan promised, wishing she was as sure about it all as she sounded. This was an act of desperation, borne from having no other choices that did not mean she would be running forever. She could only hope and pray it worked.

Cyra was frowning the whole time they were talking. “I don’t like this in the slightest, Liadan,” she said, sighing. “But if you believe that this is your best chance, I will do everything I can to help you. Gods, I hope this works out.” She moved to hug her friend.

“Thank you Cyra,” Liadan said with a sigh of relief, embracing her friend tightly. Truthfully she was terrified and uncertain, but she knew she had to try. “I hope it does as well. I am so tired of running, and looking over my shoulder all the time.”

“He leads the…” Cyra was trying to understand the situation but was failing. “I don’t know, Liadan, I really…” She bit her lip, thinking. “You know I will do whatever I can to help you. And if this is the path you want to take, I am here for you. Just… what are you going to do after my men pretend kill you?”

“I will stay hidden until they have gone, and then ... carry on, I suppose. Perhaps I will need to change jobs, or go by a different name, but I am already pretending to be human so I don’t see that makes much difference,” Liadan said with a shrug. “If they report that I am dead, the Baron has no need to send anyone else after me, and no one in Camelot has any reason to pay any attention to me.”

“That is ... very kind.” Liadan looked at the note, wondering who had written it, and if they would still feel the same if they knew the truth about her.

Cyra frowned. “And who is this Cederic you speak of? What does he have to do with all this?” she asked, trying to connect the dots. “Liadan, are you sure this is going to work? If you don’t manage to convince them… This is incredibly dangerous.”

“Cederic is the Reeve of Durham. He leads the men who were sent to capture me, but when I told him my side of things he agreed to help me.” Liadan gave a slightly helpless shrug and shook her head. “No, I’m not sure. But what other option is there?” 

“My ... smile?” Liadan repeated quietly to herself, feeling a blush stain her cheeks. It was a sweet thing to receive, and she couldn’t help wondering who had sent it. A face came to mind but . . . would he? She wasn’t sure, but the possibility made her heart race.

Cyra blinked. “Excuse me? You want to make it look like someone killed you? How exactly would that work? That sounds incredibly dangerous, Liadan,” she shook her head, biting on her lip while she was thinking. Surely there must be another solution.

“I know,” Liadan heaved a sigh, chewing nervously on her lip. She wasn’t happy about it, and the more she thought about it the more foolish it seemed - and yet, what other choice did she have? “I think . . . I’d have to arrange for Cederic to bring his men somewhere to arrest me and when they get there, stage something with one of your guards. If we can make it look like he’s run me through, then I can weave a song to make Cederic’s men believe it’s true. Then they will go back to Durham and tell the baron that I’m dead.”

Cyra wanted to weep for her friend. It seemed like her situation was rather desperate. “I suppose you are right. Caging yourself, no matter how lovely the cage, is not the solution. But how do you want to make them believe you are dead? That is not just something one can do easily.” She frowned. Liadan’s situation was different to hers; could this really work?

“No, it’s not,” Liadan agreed with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Which is why I was hoping you might be able to help me - or one of your guards might. It would like some planning, but if we could make it look like one of your guards had caught and killed me and make sure Cederic’s men were watching, I could weave a song to make sure they really believe it.”

Cyra listened to her friend’s words carefully, her expression changing from angry to terrified to surprised over time. “Dead?” she repeated with a hint of doubt in her voice. She knew how it felt to be considered dead for a long time only to be discovered by the wrong kind of people when you least expect it. “Not that is an absolute nonsense. There has to be another way. Liadan, this is all terrible, you have to go to Fairyland to live with my people. You would be safe there, please,” she insisted.

Liadan nodded. “If they believe I’m dead, they’ll go back and report it to the Baron - he’ll have no reason to send anyone else out looking and so long as I stay away from Durham, he’ll never know the truth.” She bit her lip at Cyra’s vehement opposal. Ever since her conversation with Cederic she had been going back and forth in her mind about what to do, and her friend’s reaction just made her doubt herself even more. “I did consider that. But then I could never leave ... it would just be trapping myself in a different way. And what if they picked up my trail and followed me there?”

Liadan’s behaviour made Cyra slightly concerned. “Of course, of course,” she nodded quickly, following after her friend into the house. “Liadan, you worry me. Tell me how can I help you?” she insisted.

Liadan led Cyra inside and gestured for her to sit while she found some leftover sweet cakes from the bakery and a drink to offer her. The ritual act of hospitality gave her some more time to think and try and work out how she was going to explain.

“Do you remember I told you there were men from Durham here?” she started finally, sitting down, distractedly playing with the cup in her hands as she spoke. Frowning slightly she told Cyra about everything that had happened since they had last spoken - about being caught, about Cederic letting her go, and then seeking her out afterwards for answers. “He said he believes me and wants to help, but he thinks the only way I can be safe is if I make his men believe that I’m dead.”