CHAPTER 843: JOCELYNN’S PLANS (PART TWO)

As the conversation about grim fates swirled around her, blood drained from Jocelynn’s face, and her body refused to move, shivering as she thought of her sister suffering at Owain’s hands just because of the accusation of being a witch. At the time, Jocelynn hadn’t understood how Owain, or perhaps any man of the frontier, would respond. After all, her parents had sheltered Ashlynn for more than twenty years, so the mark on her hip couldn’t be that serious.

But she’d been naive then, and Owain had spent the past half year teaching her just how wrong she’d been. So when Captain Albyn said that the people of the frontier would sooner kill an innocent person than risk that the accusation was true, she absolutely believed him.

"I agree with what you’ve said," Jocelynn said as she shook herself free of the gloom that threatened to take hold of her whenever she thought of Ashlynn’s death and the role she’d played in it. The deed was done, and while she would spend the rest of her life working to atone for it, there was nothing she could do that would bring her sister back, and focusing on her grief at a time like this was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

"So long as there’s even the slightest bit of suspicion that we’re heretics or worse, our lives aren’t safe here. So I’ve been thinking about what we should do next and I have a few notions, but I know that there is a large gap between what I can think of in a few hours and a real plan that will see us safe and I need to rely on all of you to advise me before we commit to any actions," Jocelynn said carefully as she organized her thoughts, meeting the gaze of each person at the table in turn.

Eleanor nodded readily, reaching out with her withered hand to give Jocelynn’s arm a reassuring squeeze. She had been the young woman’s close confidant and advisor for months now, and she’d increasingly left the boundaries of her role as a confessor behind in order to do as much as she could for Jocelynn. Now, however, it seemed like her cousin was taking a decisive step forward in forming an actual council of advisors, and while it was happening in a time of crisis, she had confidence in the men Jocelynn had selected to be here.

"I’ve served your father all my life, my lady," Sir Elgon said as he saluted with a fist to his chest. "I may not be as well educated as your ladyship is, but I’ve helped guard the coast from pirates and raiders for many years. You can count on me to protect your safety and to offer what advice I may."

"Likewise," Albyn said simply. "I came here to become a knight, but I’m not married to the notion, and I’m not about to sell you out to the Lothians for the chance of a title. Just tell me what you need done and I’ll see that it happens."

"Thank you all," Jocelynn said with one of the first brilliant, heart-melting smiles that had appeared on her face since the disastrous dinner with Bors Lothian the night before. "I used to argue with my sister about what to do in uncertain times," she said as memories of Ashlynn clung to her despite her desire to turn away from them.

"My tutors explained that for merchants, when markets are uncertain, a wise man waits instead of rushing to action," Jocelynn said with a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "A wise merchant may not strike gold by staying back while others take the risks for an uncertain opportunity, but he rarely ruins himself," she explained.

"Ash always said that rulers had to be the opposite of merchants," the young lady continued. "Waiting is too costly when your enemies are moving against you, and hesitation allows your adversaries to dictate terms or choose their battlefields. A lord doesn’t have the luxury of waiting until the profits are clear because he must move quickly to prevent greater disasters."

"Those sound like wise words from Lady Ashlynn," Eleanor said gently as she looked at the young lady with a complicated gaze. The Lothians had already taken one Blackwell lady from them, and she hoped that Lady Ashlynn was watching over his sister from the Heavenly Shores now, because Lady Jocelynn would need all the strength and wisdom she could grasp hold of if she was going to avoid the same dangers that had cost Lady Ashlynn her life.

"But what is it that you intend to do with them?" Eleanor asked calmly.

"I intend to gamble on the first trap that Bors Lothian has set," Jocelynn said as she stood up from the table and walked over to the collection of books near the hearth, returning with a large tome that contained maps of the frontier.

The book made a soft -THUMP- sound as she set it on the table, and silverware rattled from the force of the heavy, oversized book landing on the table’s surface. Over the past several months that she had spent as a guest in the Lothian Manor, Jocelynn had felt like she understood Ashlynn better and better as books became one of her most frequent companions.

Now, the simple ’library’ that had been part of the furnishings of her chambers had transformed from a simple decoration into one of the best tools she had for making her next move.

"I didn’t do anything to the Marquis," Jocelynn said, pausing slightly as she considered that her words weren’t entirely true. "Or at least, I didn’t do anything that would affect him. His behavior toward me changed days ago, and I think that he started to see me as his late wife then. It wasn’t until last night that I realized what was happening and I... took advantage of his confusion to learn what plans he had in mind for me."

"Bah," Albyn snorted, slamming his fine silver tankard down hard enough to slosh ale across the polished oak table. The ale served at the Lothian manor was thicker, darker, and more bitter than the pale ales he was accustomed to, and were it not for the pale foam floating atop it, the puddle of it would have resembled something far more unsavory as it pooled around the base of his tankard. "That’s no different than chatting up a drunkard to see what he’ll let slip when he’s lost in his cups."

"You didn’t do anything that thousands of other men haven’t already done," he said as he wiped foam from the rough stubble on his jaw with the back of his hand. His weathered fingers balled up into a fist as he struck the table again for emphasis. "And if we’re to be judged guilty of some crime for that, then there won’t be enough rope to hang us all."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Captain," Jocelynn said with a faint smile. "But, Cousin Eleanor, I’m more interested in what you think. Will an Inquisitor judge me harshly for what I’ve done? Or will he declare me innocent?"