King of the Unblessed

by Michelle M. Pillow

  The goblins were small, withered looking creatures. Some danced in the corner. Some fell over themselves in laughter. Others plotted mischief, drawing maps on parchment with crude quills as they fought amongst themselves. Low tables were set up in the back, just the right size for short goblin legs. They were filled with food, disgusting things Merrick couldn’t stomach—live bugs swimming in a slimy sauce, rotted vegetables, eels and snakes.

  Volos, a troll, made a strange contrast to the shorter creatures, often drawing his eye because of how he stood out. Usually trolls stayed out of the palace, preferring to live a solitary existence in caves. Volos stayed in the palace with the goblins. Trolls by nature were much larger versions of goblins, but Volos was particularly ugly and unintelligent. Long ago, he’d been taken in and raised by the oldest goblin, Bevil, whom he now sat in the corner listening to.

  Merrick shook his head as he crossed to his throne, choosing to ignore his goblin subjects. He was tired of their antics. All they ever thought about was mischief. Sitting on his cushioned throne, he lounged back, resting his chin on his fist. His gaze roamed over the ribbed vaults of the ceilings held up by giant Corinthian columns, to the five giant fireplaces that always burned along the walls. Borc was again by the fire, though not as close to it as before.

  The king found pleasure in none of it. Reaching over to the empty arm of his throne, a silver chalice of wine appeared just as Merrick wrapped his fingers over nothingness. He drank deeply. Throwing a leg over the side of his throne, he rested the chalice on his knee.

  “Music,” he said softly. A few goblins glanced at him, but did not answer. They kept their distance as music showered over the hall, coming as if from the stone. Their voices lowered to a soft hum. The song was forlorn, sad in its melody. Merrick closed his eyes and listened. Why should he care if she hated him?

  Chapter Three

  A loud boom echoed over the forest, followed by the sound of birds taking to flight. Juliana jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she scrambled to her feet. It took a moment to get her bearings, as sleep still clouded her mind. She’d been dreaming of Merrick. Sad music had been all around them like a cloud and he was offering her his hand. She wouldn’t take it because there was blood on it, but part of her desperately wanted to. Behind him a black stone angel stretched out her arms. Death and blood? Was that what Merrick had to offer her?

  When Merrick was near, she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Every nerve in her body reached for him, making her anxious and excited at the same time. But there was a darkness in his eyes that frightened her and she knew it was best to stay away. Surely anything she felt was just a trick. She’d always wanted to believe in magic and now here it was, in front of her. She hated the pleasure she felt in the adventure and tried to bury it deep inside herself. It was wrong to take joy when Merrick kept the children prisoner. She might have wanted an adventure, but not at their expense.

  Another boom sounded, crackling through the trees. Juliana cried out. Her heart leapt in surprise as she looked around. The snow was gone and it was spring, the air warm. It shouldn’t have been possible. When she went to sleep, it had been the dead of winter, but now water dripped off the trees where icicles had been. The ground was damp, making the floor of the forest soggy. Her boots squished in the mud as she walked over it.

  Juliana slipped the wool cloak off her shoulders, folding it over her arms. This time when a boom sounded, she didn’t jump. Drawn to see what made the horribly loud noise, she walked down the forest path, stopping to pull the dagger from her boot.

  “That’s not right!” someone screamed in irritation. “Here, give it to me!”

  “The muse told me how to do it, not you!” another voice answered.

  “If you’re so smart, then how come the wizards made the winter only last one night?” the first person yelled. “They’ve never done that before, have they?”

  “That’s easy. We must have slept longer than one night!”

  Juliana slowed, as the sounds of a struggle ensued.

  “Let me!”

  “It’s mine! I made it.”

  “You did not!”

  “Did so!”

  “Did not!”

  Juliana pulled back a tree branch, looking out into a small clearing in the trees. Sunlight glowed over the pretty clearing covered with tiny blue flowers. The ground was blanketed with them and the air was sweet with their perfume, combined with the robust scent of earth.

  Juliana frowned in confusion. She didn’t see anyone in the clearing. The voices kept arguing back and forth.

  “Did not!”

  “Did so!”

  “Is someone there?” Juliana asked, her voice soft.

  “Is someone there?” the first voice repeated. “Of course someone’s there. Who would you be talking to if no one was there to answer?”

  “Maybe she’s talking to herself,” the second person argued.

  “Why would she ask herself if she was there?” the first demanded.

  Juliana heard the words, but didn’t see anyone to speak them. “I can’t see you.”

  “Of course you can’t see us, you’re not looking at us, are you?” the first continued, huffing. “Halton, give that back to me!”

  “You stop it, Gorman, lest I turn you into a piskie!” Halton yelled.

  “A piskie? Me?” Gorman sputtered in outrage. “I look nothing like a piskie!”

  “Not yet, but that’s because I haven’t changed you!”

  Juliana frowned. Slowly, she leaned forward. She lowered her dagger, hiding it behind her leg. Two tiny creatures were on the ground, their voices nearly ten times as big as they were. Aside from their stature and a slight point to their ears, they looked like two small human males in bright green tunics. There was something oddly familiar about them, but she shrugged the notion off.

  Halton pointed a small stick at Gorman. “I’m warning you. Stay back!”

  “Excuse me,” Juliana said. They both looked up at her, their wide blue eyes rounding. A slight breeze tousled their already messy brown hair.

  “There,” Gorman said, motioning up. “You can see us now.”

  “Now, quit staring, if you don’t mind. It’s not polite.” Halton pointed the stick up at her. A small stream of light came from the tip, whizzing past her face. Juliana gasped, jumping back. The light hit the tree limbs above them with a loud boom. A limb snapped off, crashing to the forest floor. Juliana scrambled to get out of the way, falling against the trunk of a tree.

  “Watch it!” Gorman screamed, hopping on top of the fallen limb. He looked at the charred end, still smoking and then up at the tree it came from. He nodded thoughtfully.

  “Watch it do what?” Halton asked, joining him up on the branch. Juliana stood, brushing off her skirts.

  “Give me that. You almost hit the little giant.” Gorman pulled the stick from him. Then, to Juliana, he said, “He didn’t mean to frighten you. Don’t look so scared. We mean you no harm, little giant.”

  “I’m not a little giant,” Juliana said. She eyed the stick, curious. She’d never seen anything like it. “What is that thing?”

  Halton laughed. As if she couldn’t hear him, he mumbled to his friend, “Well, she’s not a big giant now is she? Poor little thing, she’s sensitive about her height.”

  Juliana grimaced. She was being called little by creatures no taller than her knees—and that was if she stacked them one on top of the other.

  “It’s a wand,” Gorman said. “Haven’t you ever seen a wand?”

  “Nay.” Juliana shook her head.

  “You’re not a very bright giant, are you?” Halton snorted. Speaking very slowly, he said, “Little stick make big boom. Magic. That’s a wand.”

  Gorman hit his friend over the back of his head. “That’s not all a wand does!”

  “Well, she doesn’t need to know that. Ah, just look at the poor, simple creature. She’s already confused. Well, giants never were the brightest creatures. You know what
they say. The bigger the body, the more dull-witted they be.”

  “Who says that?” Gorman asked.

  “You know, they.” Halton shrugged.

  “Right, they.” Gorman gestured in understanding. “But wouldn’t that make her smart for a giant, being as she’s so little?”

  “Well…" Halton tilted his head, seemingly perplexed as he contemplated the question. “Ah, but she’s still a giant and so can’t be too smart.”

  “Ah, right,” Gorman agreed.

  “Right,” Halton said, nodding emphatically as if they’d just come to a major decision.

  “I know,” Gorman said, smiling at Juliana. “Let’s keep her. I always wanted a pet giant.”

  “You have?” Halton asked.

  “I’m not simple,” Juliana said in irritation, interrupting their discussion.

  “Oh, nay, of course you’re not!” Gorman said, a little too eagerly in his agreement. Then to Halton, he said, “Just think of the berries we could reach with her helping us out!”

  “What are you exactly?” Juliana asked. At the thought of food, her stomach growled. She shouldn’t have skipped supper the eve before. She leaned over to get a better look at them. “Faeries?”

  “Faeries?” Halton frowned. “Do you see us flying around with wings on?”

  “She might not know what wings are,” Gorman whispered, though Juliana could hear him just fine. It was obvious they didn’t know how loud they were.

  “Ah, smart thinking.” Halton flapped his arms like a bird, bending his legs as he moved in a circle. He wiggled his backside and yelled up at her, “Do you see wings on us?”

  “Never mind.” Juliana slipped her dagger back into her boot and stood up. Glancing around, all she saw was trees. It was doubtful she was going to get any help from these two. However, who else was she going to ask? “Tell me, do you happen to know in which direction and how far it is to King Lucien’s palace?”

  Both creatures paled. They stared at her, jaws dropped.

  “She says she’s not simple,” Halton tried to whisper through the side of his mouth, “but she seeks out King Lucien of the Damned.”

  “I know what he’s king of,” Gorman grumbled.

  “I’m just saying,” Halton defended.

  “Quiet, Halton, I’ll handle this.” Gorman held up his hand for silence. He puffed out his chest with importance, before calling to her, “What’s a simple creature like you want with King Lucien?”

  “I have to speak with him.” Juliana again glanced around the forest. The noise of their wand must have scared even the birds away. All was quiet. “I have to ask him something.”

  “I knew it, she’s going to sell her soul,” Halton said, turning to Gorman. Motioning vigorously toward Juliana, he said, “I told you she was sensitive about being little.”

  “Nay, I told you she was sensitive about being…ah, now quiet! Shh, I’ll handle this.” Gorman gestured to his friend for silence. “Do you know what happens when you sell your soul, giant?”

  “I’m not a giant,” Juliana answered.

  “First she’s not little, now she’s not a giant.” Halton laughed. “Can’t seem to make up her mind, can she?”

  “And I’m not going to sell my soul,” Juliana said before they could start another tangent. “I just need to find the king. I can’t tell you why.”

  As if he didn’t hear her, Gorman continued, “He sucks it right out of you, he does. He doesn’t wait for you to die a natural death like some think. He sucks it right out of you as soon as you make the bargain. Have you ever seen a creature with no soul? Their eyes are dead. Their faces pale. Their bodies carry the demons and they don’t—”

  “Hey! When did you ever see a creature without a soul?” Halton demanded.

  “Uh, you weren’t with me.” Gorman scratched his head, looking away.

  “I’m always with you,” Halton argued, giving him a small push.

  “Well, you weren’t this time.” Gorman pointed the wand to emphasize his words. “It was a Wednesday.”

  The wand shot a spark of white into the forest. It hit a nearby tree, ricocheted off the trunk, bounced in the other direction, hit another tree and bounced again. The two little men covered their heads, ducking as it whizzed by. Another loud boom sounded moments before a tree was set on fire.

  “Give me that! I told you, it’s mine. The muse told me to make it. She said I’d need it for a great task.” Halton reached for the wand. He stuck it under his tunic, lacing it to his belt.

  “You don’t know any muses,” Gorman said.

  “Do so! She came to me in a dream.”

  “Did not!”

  “Did so!”

  “Did not!”

  Juliana sighed as they again argued. Shaking her head, she walked back toward the forest path. She’d just have to ask someone else. That was if they hadn’t scared everyone off with their loud noises.

  “Ah, now look what you did. You frightened the simple thing away,” Gorman said. “Come on! Let’s go find her. It’s obvious we were meant to help the little thing out.”

  Juliana intended to keep walking, never thinking they’d be able to catch up to her on their short legs. She was wrong. The two men leapt from the woods, flying through the air. Juliana swatted at them in surprise, barely missing them. They landed in her hair, swinging on it like vines to settle on her shoulders—one small man on each side. She stopped walking.

  “Get off me,” Juliana said.

  “Ho, easy there, easy now.” Halton patted the side of her head. She jerked away from him and knocked Gorman off her shoulder. He fell on the ground with a loud thump.

  “Oh, sorry!” Juliana leaned over to look at him. “I didn’t mean to. Are you hurt?”

  “Well, of course I’m hurt!” Gorman stood. His clothes were muddy from the wet path. “Ah, just look at what you’ve… Come on, then, pick me up. There’s a stream just up ahead.”

  Juliana scrunched up her face. She went to grab him, stopped, and then held her hand flat, palm up. He nodded his thanks and stepped on.

  “Easy, not too fast,” Halton said. It felt like he was screaming in her ear. Juliana flinched. “That’s it. What’s your name anyway, giant?”

  “Lady Juliana.”

  “A lady, you say? I didn’t know giants had ladies,” Gorman said. He sat down on her hand and motioned into the forest for her to walk. The mud on his pants adhered to her palm. He leaned toward Gorman and whispered loudly, “They don’t, do they?”

  “Ah, let’s leave the simple creature be. We can call her a lady if she wants us to,” Halton said. “As little as she is, it’s possible she married an elf.”

  “I can hear you,” Juliana answered. Even if they were annoying, she was glad for the company. “And I really am a lady and not a giant and I am not...”

  She’d been about to say she wasn’t married. Her gut knotted and her relief in having her nuptials delayed mortified her. What kind of person was she to want to run away from duty? Had she no honor? Well, to be fair, it wasn’t like the choice was hers. Merrick had forced her hand. She swallowed, not liking herself very much at the moment. Last night in the snow, she’d worried about what her brothers would think to find her missing, but she’d not once thought of Eadward.

  “Oh, there, there,” Gorman said, interrupting her thoughts. Juliana felt Halton patting her earlobe, as if trying to tickle her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We think you’re an excellent giant, my lady.”

  “Forget it,” Juliana mumbled. “Which way did you say led to the stream?”

  * * *

  Thomas rubbed the bridge of his nose. His eyes had been open for so long, they ached when he moved them so he instead stared off into space, looking at nothing but thinking of everything. He wasn’t worried about his own discomfort. Hugh looked as tired as he, as did Nicholas and Sir Vincent. None of them said a word as they sat in Bellemare’s great hall drinking the wine servants set before them. They didn’t touch the food. Non
e of them had an appetite for it.

  They’d searched all night, but there was no sign of Juliana. She’d just disappeared without a hint of what might have happened to her. It was almost as strange as Lord Eadward’s murder. The whole affair screamed of conspiracy, only they couldn’t think of who might conspire against the houses of Bellemare and Tyrshire.

  “Perchance, we underestimated Lord Roeland? He wasn’t pleased when you turned down his offer,” Thomas said, looking at Hugh.

  “Nay, he’d not go so far as this,” Hugh answered, shaking his head. “He was disappointed that Juliana didn’t want him for husband, but he wasn’t vindictive on the matter.”

  Nicholas frowned. “How many suitors does your sister have?”

  Thomas shared a look with Hugh and grimly chuckled. They’d been weeding through a list of them all morning. “She’s had what? Fifteen proposals this last year alone?”

  “More like eighteen. Every eligible noble sees her and the Bellemare name she is attached to and within a fortnight they ask for her hand.” Hugh sighed in thought. “And there are more still, if you count the knights of lesser breeding.

  “More?” Nicholas asked, quietly. He looked into his cup. “Then why did you agree to my father’s suit? Surely, a young husband with prospects of his own? A man with promise and…”

  Nicholas frowned and said no more. Hugh sighed, raising his goblet to a servant. The woman came to the head table with her pitcher and filled it. She didn’t even try to smile at the earl’s distracted attention. When she left, standing politely at the other end of the room to let them talk in private, Hugh said, “We approached Lord Eadward, not the other way around. He was a good man, a trusted friend.”

  Nicholas took several deep breaths before abruptly standing. He started to nod, but couldn’t finish the weak gesture and instead strode from the great hall. Vincent moved to go with him.

  “Brothers, I came as soon as I heard.”

  Thomas turned at the solemn greeting, automatically knowing to whom the voice belonged. Their youngest brother, William, hurried into the hall. The brown robes he wore when studying at the monastery hung over his thin frame. His hair was too long for fashion, hanging shaggily over his ears and forehead. His brown eyes glanced over his older siblings in question. If not for his slight stature and younger age, he’d look like Hugh’s identical twin.