-{We must determine who this interloper is,}- the voice said as the speaker stood. The creature was fully three cubits tall at the shoulder, and had a body twelve cubits long, with an additional three cubits of tail. Its fur was tan, and a pattern of darker fur formed rosettes, spots and stripes down its flanks. Its finely featured face was a mask of white, tan, and brown, and its far-too-intelligent eyes were yellow. -{Patience is an asset to a hunter,}- the Ocellen concluded, flipping his tail as he descended to the floor of the room.
The king gave the Ocellen a half-bow. “As you say, wise Crawn, but we have been fighting this war for three years. Three years wasted now because of the arrival of this interloper. Three years spent futilely trying to claim what is rightfully ours.”
-{Three years lusting for a female is unnatural, King Malcom,}- the Ocellen observed. -{It is not the female you should be concerned with. It is the land she possesses that should be your primary concern.}-
“True, wise Crawn, but the lands are tied to the female,” the general pointed out. “To possess them, King Malcom must possess her.”
Crawn gave the general a withering look. -{Possess the lands and the female is irrelevant.}-
“The people would be forever restive. Forever seeking to return the lands to the true bloodline,” General Boatwright said softly, looking at his king and receiving a nod of approval before continuing. “Trust us on this, wise Crawn, for we know our people. The people of Vernardia would never accept any but a rightful, lawfully crowned ruler.”
Crawn turned his glowing yellow eyes on the general and hissed. Claws slashed the air in front of it, and the general fell. He was half-way across the room from the creature, but he may as well have been directly under its claws. Armor that had withstood blows from the finest swords fell away, cut through by magic. Cloth and flesh parted, leaving the general bleeding on the floor, but alive. -{Don’t presume to instruct me, Human,}- Crawn’s mind-voice hissed. -{Destroy enough of them and the rest will obey.}-
The king summoned help for the stricken general as Crawn stalked out of the room. The Ocellen’s aid had been invaluable over the years, but he sometimes overstepped the power the king had granted him. And sometimes, late at night when the king’s mind wandered, he wondered if the Ocellen was his servant or his master.
Chapter 8
LORD AMBASSADOR HARIN JALIK OF BRESARDIA requested an audience with Queen Rochelle to once again voice his king’s displeasure after receiving yet another messenger pigeon from Bresardia.
“Your Majesty, we wish to protest the hiring of this outland Mage in the most strenuous terms. His Majesty King Malcom has been most restrained in the pursuance of his rights in this matter. However, the introduction of this Adept Drake into the conflict may force His Majesty to take a more aggressive stance and seek more powerful allies.”
Queen Rochelle sat in stone-faced silence for a moment before answering. “Ambassador Jalik, your king has no rights in this matter. We ended the betrothal upon our ascension to the throne three years ago. That he has failed to accept our will in this matter has no bearing upon the truth: We are not betrothed to King Malcom.”
The ambassador frowned, daring to show his displeasure with the young queen openly. “Your Majesty, the betrothal was agreed to by your late father and King Malcom. King Malcom has not agreed to break the betrothal. You cannot break the betrothal without his agreement.”
“That is Bresardian Law, Ambassador. Not Vernardian Law,” Lord High Councilor Kalvin Haldar pointed out. “Under Vernardian Law, either party may break a betrothal at any time up until the actual wedding. Queen Rochelle has not been legally contracted to your king for nearly three years.”
The ambassador glared at the councilor before growling his answer. “We do not recognize Vernardian Law in this matter.” Turning back to the queen he inclined his head slightly. “Be that as it may, Queen Rochelle, we must insist that this foreign Mage be dismissed. Failure to do so must be seen as an attempt to escalate the conflict, and His Majesty King Malcom will be forced to order a more…aggressive campaign next time.” The ambassador smiled and nodded.
Queen Rochelle remained stone-faced, sitting as still as a statue for a moment before softly replying, “Ambassador Jalik, Adept Drake has requested the hand of Lady Adept Mellody Carstairs in marriage, and has received permission to wed her. Upon their union, he will become Lord Adept Carstairs.” Now she did smile, but it was a bitter, twisted, almost evil grin. “Adept Drake was not fighting for his own lands or for his own people when he routed General Boatwright. The next time Bresardia invades us, he will be. We don’t imagine he will be so lenient when the people he is defending are his own.”
The ambassador looked the queen in the eye when he answered. “He is only one man, Your Majesty.” With that the ambassador turned around, showing his back to the queen in a calculated insult as he departed.
The Queen’s Guardsmen started to seize him, but the queen commanded, “Let him go,” and they stepped back to allow the ambassador to pass. Once the ambassador was gone the subject of their discussion stepped out from behind a curtain. Mellody was with him and went to face the queen.
“Rochelle, are you all right?”
“Yes, Melly, I’m fine.” Looking over to where Drake waited, she waved him over. “You see, Adept Drake? This is what we’ve been battling for three years. King Malcom absolutely refuses to accept that I’m not going to be his queen, and Vernardia is not going to be his kingdom. The man is just insufferable.”
Drake nodded as he walked forward to join them. “I see indeed, Your Majesty.”
“Drake,” Mellody began, catching her lower lip between her teeth, “there are already rumors in the court about us. I think the Bresardians are counting on trouble here to keep us distracted.”
Drake looked closely at Mellody and detected a hint of color in her cheeks. “What kind of rumors, Mellody?”
“That we…that you and I…that there is nothing…oh, I don’t know how to say this!” Mellody finally shouted, stomping around in a circle.
“That you aren’t interested in Mellody, only her lands, because you haven’t been sleeping together,” Queen Rochelle said sourly.
Now Drake looked confused. “Um, isn’t that proper?”
“Proper? What do you mean proper?” Mellody asked in a tone of voice that carried more emotions than she could name.
“Isn’t it proper to wait until after the wedding? It is back home. I mean, you’re a high lady of the court. Wouldn’t it be a scandal if..?” His voice trailed off as he got a good look at the expression on her face. Oh, Gods Below.
Mellody was staring at him in slack-jawed amazement. “I’m nineteen, and, until just a few days ago, unbetrothed. What I do and with whom is no one’s business but my own, not that anyone has ever cared. Drake, you didn’t think I was some fool virgin waiting for my one true love, did you?”
Drake’s face took on a pensive expression as he replied, “Ummmmm,” and bit his lips.
Mellody shot a questioning glance at the queen, but she was no help. Rochelle was sitting on the floor, having fallen off her throne, and was holding her belly as she laughed in near hysterics. She tried to speak, but only managed to gasp and point at Mellody’s stunned expression.
Mellody looked back at Drake and shook her head slowly back and forth as she stalked forward. “Of all the stupid ideas…come with me, Drake.” She took Drake by the hand and started out of the audience chamber, snapping at the grinning Queen’s Guards as she waved toward Rochelle. “It’s not that funny. Go see to the queen.”
Mellody led Drake back to her suite and pushed him down into a chair. “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve been…that I’ve been…that you never even thought about coming to my bed?”
Drake was sitting back, staring at Mellody with wide eyes. “Well of course I’ve thought about it, Mellody. I imagine every man who’s ever laid eyes on you has thought about it. But I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”
Mellody’s voice rose to something that very closely resembled a scream as she repeated, “Trouble!?” She glared at him as she tried to control herself. Right at that moment she was panting in rage and her hands were hooked into claws. She snarled, “I’ve been tied in knots for days because I thought you just said it to make a show. That you were lying to us! To me!” Mellody turned away, all at once terribly afraid that she might be right.
Drake leaned forward to try and see her face. “Said what?” he asked meekly.
“That you loved me!” she shouted, turning back to him with tears shining in her eyes.
Drake stood and moved close to her, but didn’t touch her. “Mellody, I do love you,” he said softly. “Very deeply. That’s why I’ve stayed away. I didn’t want you to think I was just saying it to get into your bed.”
Mellody reached up to brush his face with the tips of her fingers. “What kind of culture do you come from?” she asked in a breathy whisper. “How can you know if you love someone if you never share your most intimate thoughts and feelings? If you never touch one another, hold one another, love one another and see if you are compatible?”
Drake looked deeply into her eyes and shrugged. “We don’t all the time, but we succeed more often than not. It’s just our way.”
Mellody moved the last little bit toward him and wrapped her arms around him. She laid her head against his chest and murmured, “Oh, Drake, how can I make you understand?”
Drake’s arms had automatically gone around her as well, and he laid his cheek against the top of her head. “I’m sure we’ll figure out something,” he said with a slight chuckle and felt her laugh in return.
* * *
Drake and Mellody spent the night exploring one another in ways that non-Magi could only dream of. Bodies and magic melded and merged, becoming one and then separating, then merging once again. Drake used his more than eight hundred years of experience to bring Mellody to the heights of pleasure over and over again until they were interrupted by a loud thump against the wall behind the bed.
Mellody was instantly out of bed, magical energy wreathing her in a silver nimbus of power until the voice of the queen came faintly but clearly through the wall.
“Would you two go to sleep already?! It’s past mid-night, and we have court tomorrow. Honestly, some people...” the queen’s comments trailed off as she settled back down, and Mellody giggled as she returned to her bed.
“Roe’s headboard is exactly opposite mine. We should sleep now. I want you well rested for tomorrow.” Her eyes glittered with mischief as she slid back beneath the covers and snuggled close to his side.
Chapter 9
DRAKE WAS MOVED INTO MELLODY’S SUITE at Mellody and Rochelle’s insistence the next morning, and that move necessitated another round of sweeping changes in Drake’s life. Mellody’s servants could have easily seen to both of them, but that would not be proper. Drake suddenly found himself “needing” five servants to see to his needs, even though he was quite capable of seeing to himself.
Kenton had recruited a helper to carry Drake’s few possessions to his new quarters, and grinned as he introduced him to Drake. “Adept Drake, I think you might remember young Elwin here. As I told you, he is one of my apprentices, and ready for his first assignment as a valet. And you, my young friend, are to be his assignment.” Kenton paused to grin at Elwin’s stunned expression.
Elwin was staring wide-eyed at Kenton. “M-Master Kenton? But I thought you were—” his voice trailed off as Kenton smiled and shook his head.
“It’s past time for me to retire, Elwin. I was semi-retired when the queen asked me to see to young Drake here, and my only duties were seeing to you apprentices. Now you are ready to move on, and I am ready to settle down a bit.”
Kenton shifted his attention to Drake. “Drake, my friend, Elwin is as good as any valet I have ever trained. He gets a little carried away at times,” he paused to smile at a blushing Elwin, “but you’ll find him to be dependable about things that matter. In addition, I have another young man on his way up here to take his place as Elwin’s assistant and apprentice.” Now he laughed at the stunned expression on Elwin’s face. “You get to tame Luther Featherstone.”
The expression of mingled dismay and disgust that came over Elwin’s face was too much for Drake, and he burst out laughing. Clapping one hand over his mouth, he pointed at Elwin with a shaking finger. He managed to gasp out, “You look like you just swallowed a live toad!” between gales of laughter.
Elwin looked at Kenton and started pleading. “But, Master Kenton, Luther is such a—”
“—Pain in the posterior? Yes, I know. Much like a young blond apprentice I acquired several years ago.” Kenton grinned evilly as Elwin ran his hand through his short, blond hair. “I told you I’d get my revenge one day, Elwin.”
The revenge arrived just then, bumbling through the door with a freshly scrubbed look about him that even made the distraught Elwin grin. Luther was a young boy of about ten, with brown eyes and brown hair, and was dressed in a set of clothes that were obviously too big for him. He stumbled to a stop when he saw the men facing him and bobbed a quick bow, straightening his clothes as well as he could.
“I’m to report to Master Valet Elwin,” he said nervously. His eyes had fastened on Elwin as soon as he entered the room. Until just moments ago they had both been apprentices.
Now it was Elwin’s turn to look startled again. “Master Valet?” he asked, looking at Kenton.
Kenton nodded and grinned. “You must be a master to have an apprentice, my boy.” Clapping a thoroughly stunned Elwin on the shoulder he turned his attention to Drake. “I’ll still be seeing you regularly, Adept Drake. Jeanette will be arriving with your maids shortly.” With that he nodded and left Drake alone with his two young valets.
Drake looked over his servants closely. Elwin was about twenty, blond haired and blue eyed, and built like a cat. He was slender, graceful, and had finely chiseled features that even Drake would call handsome.
Luther, as he had noted when the boy had first arrived, had more rounded features, and a look of mischief about him even when he was standing with his hands clasped innocently in front of him.
Drake was prevented from saying anything by the arrival of Mistress Jeanette Churchill, Mellody’s Matron. With Mistress Jeanette were three young women dressed in the ubiquitous palace maid’s uniform. One was several years older than the other two, and Jeanette presented her first.
“Adept Drake, this is Phyllis Amidon, your maid. These other two are her helpers, Paige Whiteman and Roseanne Bowman. They will see to your comfort. If you approve of them, they will be permanently assigned to you for your return to Blue Ridge.” Mistress Jeannette fixed the three young women with a stern glare.
“Since this is Lady Mellody’s suite, you work for me. I’ll have no nonsense about precedence and seniority from you. While Adept Drake is a well-respected Mage, he is not yet a lord, nor a peer. As his servants, that places you below my apprentices in rank and you will comport yourselves accordingly.”
Phyllis’s lips pressed into a firm line that indicated she was fully aware who those remarks were aimed at, and started to protest. “Matron Jean—”
“Mistress Jeanette, and don’t you forget it,” she snapped, silencing Phyllis. “Even upon Adept Drake’s ascension to the Carstairs Seat you will address me as Mistress.” Jeanette fixed Phyllis with an even more severe glare. “You’ve been given another chance, Phyllis. Don’t abuse it.” She continued to glare at Phyllis until the younger woman nodded and looked at the floor.
Mistress Jeanette looked at Drake and nodded, then smiled at Elwin. “Well, you’ve managed to land on your feet again, haven’t you, Scamp?” she asked in a light tone that was totally different from the one she had used on the girls.
Elwin blushed and ducked his head, but he was grinning broadly nonetheless. “Yes, Mistress Jean. Well, except for—” His voice trailed off, but his eyes had locked on Luthe
r.
Mistress Jeanette looked at the boy for a moment, then chuckled. “Serves you right, Scamp. These three are technically yours as well. I will, however, be making use of them. Do you have any objections to that?”
Elwin looked startled for a moment, then shook his head. “No, Mistress Jean.”
Mistress Jeanette nodded and waved for the maids to follow her while Elwin and Luther stayed with Drake.
Drake watched her go, then turned to Elwin. “You seem to know Mistress Jeanette fairly well, Elwin.”
Elwin grinned and nodded. “She’s my mother’s best friend, Adept Drake. I don’t remember a time when I haven’t known her.” Drake nodded and smiled, then walked farther into the suite with Elwin and Luther close on his heels.
Drake went to stand by the window and his servants stopped behind him at a respectful distance and awaited his commands. After thinking for a few moments, Drake sighed and turned to face them. “I’ll be honest with you two: I’ve never had servants before. Never needed ‘em. I suspect you know your jobs far better than I do, so just do whatever you think needs doing. As Mistress Jeanette pointed out, she runs this suite. If there is anything you need to know, I’d suggest asking her.”
Elwin cleared his throat and, at Drake’s nod, asked, “If you don’t need us, then why—?”
Drake sighed and closed his eyes. “Appearances. Mel and the queen say it’s proper for me to have servants, so servants I shall have. When I marry Mellody and become Lord Carstairs, I’ll have to employ even more servants. I don’t understand it, but—” he trailed off with a shrug and Elwin grinned.
“Lady Mel usually gets her way, one way or the other, Adept Drake.”
Drake nodded and laughed. “So I’ve noticed.”
* * *
Others noticed the change as well. Lord Dargan had spies throughout the palace staff and was informed of the move before Drake had been introduced to Elwin. Now that his targets were all together, he initiated the scheme he had arranged the day after his son’s arrest. The plan was pure treason, but by the end of it Rochelle, Mellody, and Drake would be dead—or he would.
The Chronicles of Amberdrake Page 8
