King of the Unblessed

by Michelle M. Pillow

  The forest stayed the same as she walked. Occasionally, Gorman would tell her to take a turn in the path. They were pleasant enough companions, even if they did speak too loudly at times. Morning faded to afternoon and afternoon to early evening. Gorman passed most of the day in banter and Halton passed it in song. His singing was worse than his loud voice.

  “How close are we to Lucien’s palace?” Juliana asked, cutting Halton off during a break in singing before he started another tune.

  “Far,” Halton said.

  “Very far,” Gorman said.

  “Extremely far,” Halton added.

  “Exceedingly fa—” She felt Gorman shift on her shoulder.

  “All right,” Julian interrupted, stopping the argument before it started. Even combined they didn’t weigh much at all, but her neck was starting to strain all the same. “I understand. We have a long ways to go.”

  The two sprights laughed. Halton burst into song. Juliana flinched, trying to close her ears to him. With him on her shoulder, it was near impossible. She walked faster. The sooner she got to King Lucien’s palace the better.

  Chapter Four

  Golden Palace of the Blessed, Kingdom of Tegwen

  King Ean smiled, though in truth he felt detached from the faeries being presented to him. They were pretty, but he had no real interest in their feminine wiles as they simpered and smiled before him. Their dainty bodies fluttered about, hovering above his great hall floor. Both were fair, with soft white skin and rose-tinted complexions. Their hair looked as soft as corn silk, and still he had no desire to touch it, or them. Regardless, it was possible he’d take both of them to his bed that night. A man did have his appetites, after all.

  The blonde fluttered forward, her white wings sparkling like stars against her dark blue dress. Her dark-haired companion was of the opposite coloring. She had dark blue wings and a white gown. Next to each other, they were quite fetching.

  “Lady Lily,” Sigurd, his herald, announced. A small burst of light erupted over the blonde and within a blink she stood before him, curtseying at a height to complement his own. Her wings quivered, but she stayed grounded. The king nodded once. The darker faery was waved forward. Her wings were a translucent dark blue, fluttering wildly as she hovered overhead. She too burst to stand before him. They both wore sparkling dresses of fine silk, as did all faeries. The race did pride themselves on beauty. “And her sister, Lady Roslyn.”

  “My ladies,” Ean acknowledged them with a tilt of his head. He didn’t smile at them and their eyes fell slightly. It was well known he did not seek a queen, but it didn’t stop his people from presenting eligible maidens. “Welcome to the Blessed Court.”

  “My king,” they said in unison, their voices rich and smooth as they curtseyed. Both poofed into their smaller forms and flew from the great hall. A streak of light trailed behind them, releasing their potent pheromones into the air. It signified that they indeed wanted him in their beds. Faeries were highly sexual creatures, getting their energies from pleasure. In that, they and the elfin king were much alike, for he too received power from pleasure. It was why elves and faeries made good lovers. As to mates, though, they were almost always disastrous pairings.

  Elves were respected for their wisdom and patience and Ean liked to think he was no different. He’d grown up in the palace, along with his brothers, Merrick, Ladon and Wolfe. Ladon and Wolfe were dead. Merrick, being the King of the Unblessed, was all but lost to him. Ean had no family left to him.

  The great hall of the Golden Palace was majestic in its great beauty. The walls rose high, like crystals, from the cream marble floor. Light from outside shone through the walls, walls that were thin enough for the light, but thick enough not to be seen through. A fireplace burned along the side, never needing to be lit. At night, the torches would automatically catch fire, lighting the halls of the palace.

  The hall was always filled with faeries, elves, sprights and pixies. All blessed creatures fell under his rule. Sprights and pixies mainly kept to themselves. The elfin and faery men were strong, youthful. But the elfin and faery women were something to be admired. They were beautiful—some dark and exotic with complexions to rival the pixies’ smoothest chocolates, others as fair and smooth as cream with just a touch of fresh peaches. While at court they wore lovely gowns that glimmered when they moved, hugging and teasing the flesh in such a way as to drive the men wild with lust. Away from court they were as tough as the men, taking up arms when needed.

  “My king.”

  At Gregor’s summons, Ean glanced away from the lingering trails of faery pheromones. The man was his head knight and commander of the elfin guards. Being such, he wore the red tunic of the Tegwen guards. It hung down over his legs, parting in the front. He walked forward with dignity and grace, though Ean knew the man could be deadly with his sword should he be provoked.

  “I must speak with you,” Gregor said, pushing his light brown hair over his shoulder. It was long, as was all elves’.

  “Speak,” Ean allowed, weary. He’d been under a melancholy lately, one he could vaguely contribute to his lingering connection to Merrick. It happened sometimes and Ean knew it would soon pass, as it always did.

  “Privately, my king,” Gregor insisted. “It’s about King Merrick.”

  At the words, the few lingering in the hall grew quiet. Gregor had long ago proven himself a good, loyal man, but one who did not care for Merrick. All eyes turned forward. The blessed were at odds with Valdis and that would never change.

  Ean nodded, instantly standing from his golden throne. He stepped down the platform to the main floor. “Come, Gregor, let us go to my private chambers.”

  Ean’s long tunic glimmered with gold on white. As he walked, the material fluttered around him. A crown wrapped around his forehead, the gold dipping down in front before disappearing beneath the locks of his long blond hair. He knew well the image he presented, knew he was envied by men, desired by women. He was surrounded at all times by his subjects, and yet he felt always alone. He had thought of starting a war with Merrick to ease the boredom of his existence, but could not bring himself to take up arms against him. So long as Merrick did not seek to fight him, Ean would leave his brother alone.

  The side halls were constructed of white stone. Colorful tapestries hung over them, depicting the history of the elfin race—many stories of the great kings who had come before him. As of yet, Ean had not recorded the story of his rule, for there was much he didn’t wish to say about it.

  His chambers were abovestairs, taking up the entire top floor of the palace. A long window of magic stretched over an inlet in the wall, showing the vast beauty of the countryside. There were pillows and furs arranged on the floor. The king often lay there at night, contemplating the stars, instead of in his oversized bed along the opposite wall.

  Coming to his solar, he waved the faery servants out. They flew away, leaving the two men to privacy. Ean took a seat next to a gaming table and motioned Gregor to join him.

  “It’s been reported that Merrick has brought the human, Lady Juliana of Bellemare, to our realm,” Gregor said as he took a seat.

  Ean frowned, confused. “Merrick has brought a mortal woman over? For what purpose? I should think he’d want little to do with mortals. They are…mortals.”

  “My king, not just a woman, your ward, Lady Juliana of Bellemare,” Gregor insisted.

  “Ward?” Ean sat forward. “Bellemare, Bellemare, aye, I remember it now. My grandfather offered his blessing to it. I’ve not seen it myself, or those who reside within. You say Merrick has taken a woman from this place. Why?”

  “It’s not known, my king, but surely it’s to strike at you,” Gregor said. “Being as he was…”

  “Is my brother. Regardless of what he is, that will not change.” Ean frowned, unwilling to admit that he’d lost Merrick. Even if at times he thought it himself, he would not say the words aloud and break the small thread that still joined them.

 
“Aye, my king.”

  “Enough with the formality, Gregor.” Ean sighed. “I have known you since boyhood. Speak plainly.”

  “Merrick surely knows of Bellemare’s blessing.”

  Ean frowned. He was king and he barely recalled Bellemare’s blessing. Though it was possible, he doubted Merrick thought of Bellemare or the mortals protected by the Blessed Kingdom. “Why is Bellemare blessed again? Which family are they?”

  “Saxons,” Gregor supplied. “One married your Aunt Alyssin, who gave up her immortality to be with her husband in life and death. It was her wish that her husband’s line be blessed. Your grandfather, King Alwyn, ordered they be helped until a time when they no longer deserved the blessing bestowed upon them. He dispatched those to see to it. Though they are still there, until now we’ve not heard anything for many years. Rees, the Bellemare spright, has come to report Juliana’s disappearance.”

  “And he’s sure it’s Merrick?”

  “Aye, my king.”

  Ean took a deep breath. What would Merrick want with a mortal woman? Surely, if his brother wished to strike a blow at him, he’d choose something more substantial than his human wards. Perhaps Merrick had discovered something about the human line he knew nothing about. If Alyssin married into it, did that make the Bellemare mortals part elfin? Was this Juliana their cousin? And, if she was, what did it mean?

  “There’s more.” Gregor fingered a game piece, refusing to meet his king’s probing gaze. “It’s said he’s killed the woman’s betrothed, slaughtered him. Two of the brothers and the slain man’s son come to rescue Lady Juliana and fight your brother. I fear they will come to harm. Mortals, no matter how many their numbers, are no match for the Unblessed King.”

  Ean stayed quiet. He’d like to think Merrick wouldn’t slaughter an innocent, but the truth was he no longer knew his brother. The image of boyhood he held in his head was not the man his brother had become. Still, Ean was reluctant to sever his last ties to Merrick, even if it meant dealing with the melancholy the connection brought. Regardless of this, he had no way of knowing if Juliana’s betrothed was innocent. Merrick could well have his reason for slaughtering the man.

  “Should we send aid to them, my king?” Gregor asked. “They are ignorant of our world, having just with recent events discovered we exist, and they are still your wards.”

  “Nay, send someone to watch for now. Let us discover what this is about before we take action.” Ean stood, moving from the solar to the large window. Magic kept the wind and dust from penetrating the room. He looked over the landscape, the view clear and perfect as if he were outside. A large dragon was silhouetted in the far off distance, spouting fire across the sky to leave a trail of smoke. The king threaded his hands behind his back. “I will go speak to my brother and try to discover why he’s taken Lady Juliana. It may have nothing to do with us.”

  “My king, nay,” Gregor said from the solar’s doorway. “You mustn’t. Send me instead.”

  “I’ll go, but I’ll meet him on neutral ground and only after I’ve consulted the sacred scrolls. If there is something to the Bellemare line, I will discover it first. Send a dispatch at once to King Merrick with my invitation. Methinks we should meet at our borders, Rivershire.” Ean rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

  “I will deliver the dispatch personally,” said Gregor.

  Ean didn’t turn back around, as he felt Gregor leaving to do as he bid. When he was alone, he sighed, lifting his hand to the magical barrier. He slid his fingers through to feel the wind on the other side. It stung him with cold, but he didn’t mind it. In the distance, the dragon disappeared, dipping down into the trees. Softly, he whispered to himself, “What mischief are you about now, brother?”

  * * *

  “Run!” Halton ordered, gripping Juliana’s hair. She sprinted faster, screaming as another blaze of fire lighted the sky behind her. The spright slid from her shoulder and she felt him bouncing on her back as he gripped her hair.

  “I told you that cave was no place to spend the night, giant!” Gorman yelled. He too pulled her hair for support, letting loose a high-pitched wail each time the dragon’s flame drew near. The cave had seemed like a good idea, though it hadn’t been her idea. It was Halton and Gorman’s. “See what you did! You woke it!”

  Juliana jumped over a log as she ran toward the forest from the clearing. Her only hope was that the beast was too large to follow them into the trees. She was tired from a day of walking and it only made her breath all the more labored. The dragon roared. Its purple wings spread wide as it stopped in midair to spout fire at them. Heat warmed her back, the sound of boisterous flames deafening. Orange lit the evening, showing her the way into the darker forest. She screamed again, holding her breath as she leapt into the protection of the trees.

  The roars continued, but Juliana could no longer feel the heat behind her or the wind of the beast’s flapping wings against her back. She glanced over her shoulder. The way was dark except for the distance spot of orange from the dragon. The beast stayed out of the woods. Her feet stumbled as she slowed. Juliana collapsed on her hands and knees, breathing hard as she fought to ease the stitch in her side. Halton and Gorman jumped off her.

  “That wasn’t too frightening,” Gorman boasted.

  “Aye, it was just a baby dragon, not that big at all. I’m not scared of him,” Halton said, yelling loudly in the beast’s direction. He shook his fist. “You hear that, dragon! You’re not so scary!”

  Juliana ignored the sprights. She didn’t want to move from the ground. Swallowing, she pushed back onto her knees, sitting on her legs. Her cloak was gone, lost as they fled the horrible creature. Sweat beaded her body, sticking her hair and clothes to her skin. She was tired. It had only been one day and she was tired of her journey. How was she ever going to last a week?

  “Why’d you run, my lady?” Halton asked.

  “We could’ve protected you,” Gorman bragged.

  Juliana frowned, pushing awkwardly to her feet. The middle of a path was no place to make camp for the night. She didn’t say a word as she staggered away from them. She missed her brothers, her home. She wished Hugh was with her, with his calming logic and expert sword arm. Or even Thomas, with his lighter wit. He too was good with the sword. In truth, she’d even welcome the less fierce William to her side just so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

  “Ha! We’re not scared of a little dragon,” Gorman continued.

  She could hear the sprights following her. Juliana walked faster, despite the stitch in her side. Her feet tripped but she didn’t stop. She needed to be away from them for a moment. She needed silence to think and all they did was talk. It was their bantering that had awakened the dragon in the first place.

  “If you’re not scared, then how come you were screaming like a piskie?” Halton taunted.

  “Was not!”

  “Was so!”

  “Was not!”

  Juliana began to jog, holding her waist. The air cooled by small degrees. The sun set in the distance and its magenta light peeked through the trees, combining with the silver moon overhead. She stopped jogging and looked down at the trail. Small flowers dotted along the side, intermingling with the weeds. Unable to hear Gorman and Halton, she glanced back. The chill grew, causing her to shiver. The flowers along the path pulled in on themselves, wilting as if an invisible wave washed over them.

  “Gorman?” she whispered, trembling. She glanced around the darkening forest. All was quiet. “Halton? Where are you?”

  “My lady appears to be a bit singed.”

  Juliana stiffened. Merrick? It couldn’t be. Her body pulled toward him and her skin tingled, reaching for his nearness. She hated to admit she had longed for him, but her mind was stronger than her body. She would resist him.

  I will not succumb, she swore. I will not succumb. I will not succumb. I will not suc… Lifting her jaw, she whispered, “Merrick?”

  * * *

  “Aye, Juliana.” Merrick
studied her from behind. She didn’t turn to look at him, and he desperately wanted her to. He’d come to see her, to make sure she was unharmed, having watched the chase with the dragon from the garden basin. He silently beckoned her to him when she didn’t come of her own free will, gently urging her with his power to come to him. She refused to move. “Did you miss me?”

  “Nay.”

  “Pity.” He whispered the word next to her ear and followed it with a flick of his tongue to her lobe. She jolted in surprise. Merrick blew warm breath along her neck, watching as chills worked over her flesh. A weak noise escaped her throat.

  “End this, Merrick,” she begged softly. “Let me go.”

  “I cannot.” He closed his eyes. A strange pain welled in him at her plea, but he forced it aside.

  “If not you, then who?”

  Merrick took a deep breath. Her words rolled over him and he couldn’t resist touching her, just as he couldn’t help teasing her, mocking her. She had no idea the effect she had on him. He hesitated before moving his fingers to her shoulder, letting them glance down her arm in a light caress. He expected her to scream, to jerk away. She didn’t move. “Merrick, please.”

  Please? Please what? The words were so light, a plea to him. He knew she wanted to be freed, but he couldn’t let her go. The more she struggled, the more he wanted to tighten his grip on her. Merrick drew closer to her back, keeping his body a hairsbreadth away from hers. His blood stirred, as it always did when she was near. This time he didn’t fight it. He let his arousal grow between his legs. It pressed along his tight breeches, straining to be free.

  He smelled her perspiration, her fear, her longing for him that she tried so desperately to hide. Her fear fed his powers and his desire. He wanted to touch her, awaken her passions to him, but he wanted her to freely ask it of him first. Merrick didn’t know why it should matter. If he wanted her, he could take her by force or by seduction. Either way, his body would be sated. With just a simple gesture he could whisk her away to his palace, to his bed, where he could bury himself repeatedly into her depths until he had his fill. No one would dare stop him.