King of the Unblessed

by Michelle M. Pillow

As they neared, the silver walls became less translucent. One of the specks of light flew forward as Juliana passed under the front arch, through the gate. She saw it was a winged faery. The creature’s pale skin was perfect, as were its wide blue eyes and long blonde hair. She wore a shimmering gown of silver on blue. Soon others joined the first—men and women, all graced with pale beauty. One by one, the faeries poofed into a shower of light only to stand tall before her. She curtseyed at their attention. The humming didn’t stop, and Juliana was drawn past them to the entrance of the palace.

  * * *

  Hugh watched his sister walk through the gathering throng. A soft smile graced her features. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend her if need be. The crowd parted to let her by. The men followed her but didn’t touch. He felt a hand on his sword arm and looked down. A woman smiled up at him, her eyes full of invitation. His body responded, though he refused to be drawn into her lovely spell. Another hand slipped onto his forearm, another still onto his hip, his thigh, his backside. He was urged by the gentle touches to follow Juliana.

  Thomas and Nicholas walked ahead of him. They too were being led by lovely winged creatures into the palace. Small hands tousled their hair, rubbed up beneath their tunics, teased the line of their waistbands. Hugh took a deep breath. Being caressed by so many beautiful women was making it hard to concentrate.

  “Welcome, my lord,” a faery whispered into his ear, rimming it with her tongue. He tried to focus, tried to fight the sudden arousal growing beneath his breeches. A hand slid down his stomach to boldly stroke him. “We hope you find your stay pleasurable.”

  * * *

  Rivershire, Clishmore River, Neutral Territory

  Rivershire was a thriving marketplace that stretched for miles along the ancient Clishmore River. The city was special, for it was the only place in the entire immortal realm that fell under no one king’s domain. Lord Griffen, elected noble of the city, officially controlled it all. The city was neutral ground, often the trading place of black and white magic. Blessed and unblessed alike came to trade wares. Hopefuls came to Rivershire to apprentice in wizardry and magic.

  Boats of all shapes and sizes were tethered to the docks. Merfolk crawled from the water onto the shore, drying off their fins to form legs. Almost every creature in the immortal realm could be found along the Clishmore banks. Merrick didn’t have to look hard to find his brother in Rivershire as he slipped through the crowds like mist, unnoticed by most except for a chill. He was drawn to Ean’s side like a thread pulling him to his own blood.

  He found Ean in a small pub. The wood tavern was hardly fit for a king, but Merrick didn’t care. As children they’d loved Rivershire for its roughness. Merrick didn’t wish to think of such things so instead he quickly took in his surroundings before showing himself. Wizards gathered in a dark corner, stroking their beards as they drank tankards of ale. The old men were quiet as they watched a group of dwarfs and gnomes negotiate over a slip of parchment. Tiny fists hit the tabletop in small thuds as the gnomes spoke. Overhead, a faery couple sat in the rafters, holding hands and gazing adoringly at each other. Merrick even detected a cloaked human.

  The only true ally the Unblessed King appeared to have in the place was the troll who drank alone in a corner. As Merrick collected himself on the threshold, gasps erupted over the patrons. His name was whispered amongst them in awe and fear. Merrick, King of the Unblessed. The troll bowed his head in respect and made a move to stand. Merrick lifted his hand to stop him.

  Without comment, Merrick went through a door in the back and up the narrow steps. He was surprised his brother didn’t have guards with him. If what Lucien had said was true, Ean would be a fool to try and kill him on his own.

  Abovestairs, the hall was empty, nothing but a long row of doors. Placing his hand on the fifth door from the stairs, he pushed. The room within was dusty and small. A pitcher sat on a wooden table next to a goblet. Two chairs sat next to the table and a straw mat was tossed on the floor. Merrick smiled faintly as he looked at the table. Ean was there, stroking his bottom lip thoughtfully. It was an action he’d seen the man do oft. It meant he was thinking.

  “I felt you,” Ean said softly.

  “I let you,” Merrick answered. He waved his hand, slamming the door behind him without touching it.

  “You’re early, brother.”

  “Am I?” Merrick moved and took a seat. He stared at Ean from across the table. “Your brother?”

  “Aye,” Ean said. “Such things cannot be undone.”

  “Death and fate can undo much, King Ean.”

  “Is that a threat, King Merrick?”

  Neither of them moved toward the other. They didn’t touch, merely stared. Ean looked tired, but was still as youthful and handsome as Merrick remembered him. Ean had been the youngest of four brothers. Merrick had been the oldest. Even so, they had been close at one time. Seeing him, Merrick knew they were close no longer.

  “I’m here. Speak.” Merrick crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. He pretended to be bored.

  “Lady Juliana of Bellemare,” Ean said.

  Merrick closed his eyes briefly. Maybe Lucien had told the truth. His voice purposefully nonchalant, he asked, “What of her?”

  “Why did you take her?” Ean studied him. The Blessed King had hardened some with his reign.

  “I wanted to.” Even now Merrick tasted Juliana’s lips, smelled her fragrance, felt her body on his. His blood stirred to claim her, but his anger kept him from her. He’d felt the moment she let that man touch her. Nicholas. How hard it had been not to stab the mortal through the heart when he’d had the chance.

  “Did you know she was my ward?”

  Merrick said nothing.

  “Her family is blessed and under my protection. I want you to free her from whatever game it is you play.” Ean sat forward and took a drink. “Please, for me.”

  “Why do you care?” Merrick chuckled darkly. “She is mortal.”

  “She is my…”

  Merrick narrowed his eyes, stopping Ean from finishing his answer. He studied his brother. Merrick knew he had changed quite a bit, knew he no longer looked as he had last they met. His face was older, his body stiff, and it had been a long time since a full, happy smile crossed over his features.

  “She is under my protection,” Ean said softly.

  “I see.” Merrick chuckled again, a purposefully cryptic sound. “Then tell me, where is she?”

  “You know I can’t detect her. You have her imprisoned.”

  “Then it would seem, dear brother,” Merrick yawned, continuing to feign boredom, “that the lady is under my protection, for I can tell you exactly where she is.”

  “And where is that?” Ean challenged.

  Merrick closed his eyes, as a small smile curled his lips. “Feia.”

  “She’s with the faeries?”

  “Aye.”

  “What are you up to, Merrick?” Ean shook his head. Standing, his voice rose by small degrees. “There are those who claim you wish to be at war. Is that what you want? You wish to fight me? Do you take Lady Juliana to provoke me?”

  “As you fought Ladon and Wolfe?” Merrick taunted. He remained seated.

  Ean closed his eyes. “I had no choice. You know that. How dare you mention our brothers’ names to me? If not for you, they wouldn’t have left Tegwen. If not for you, they—”

  “This conversation is old, Ean,” Merrick interrupted. His heart squeezed to think of the past and seeing Ean was only a reminder of that. “If you have nothing new to say to me then I shall go.”

  Ean sighed, but said no more on it. “Will you release Lady Juliana?”

  “Nay.”

  “Then there will be war.”

  “If you so wish there to be,” Merrick answered, his voice calm. “I am not afraid of war. I could use the diversion.”

  “You would fight those you loved in boyhood?”

  Merrick merely smiled. “But
who have no love for me now. It is you they see on their throne. I am but a dead man to them.”

  “You’re not dead to all of us, Merrick,” Ean whispered, his eyes studying him.

  Merrick knew his brother searched him. He felt Ean’s desperation as if it were his own. “Aye. I am. Sever your tie to me, Ean, for you will do so someday, regardless of how you feel now.”

  Ean reached forward, gripping his brother’s arm. Softly, he swore, “Never. You are still my blood. I feel the goodness in you, Merrick. Give up your throne. Come back to Tegwen.”

  “You know it cannot be so,” Merrick said, still not rising from his chair. “Only death will free me.”

  “I’ve looked through our scrolls. Lady Juliana is not one of us. I’d hoped you sought her for some greater purpose. I’d hoped she was special, sent to free you from your dark prison. But she’s just human, the many-great niece to our Aunt Alyssin by human marriage. Alyssin had no children of her own.”

  “What makes you think I wish to be free from my throne?” Merrick tugged his arm and Ean let him go. He couldn’t stand the Blessed King touching him. It only made his existence all the more cursed. It made the pain inside him ache until he wanted to scream.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Nay, I haven’t even tried.” It was the truth. Merrick didn’t try to end his reign, had never tried. The power had entered him at his coronation, weaving with his life until all his body fed off that power. He understood then as he knew now—death was the only way to end it. He did not wish to die.

  “But—”

  “Enough, Ean. If you wish for a war, then fight me. I care not. My goblins will answer the call to arms, as will the trolls and the dark elves. Lord Kalen’s knights alone will crush your army if I were to call upon him.”

  “Kalen is a madman! You would threaten him and his Berserks on me?” Ean frowned. “Do not say such things. My love for you will not surpass my duty to my people.”

  “They are not threats, but warnings.” Merrick finally stood. “My reasons for taking Juliana are my own. You’d do well to stay out of it. She is lost to you. If you would see blood shed for one mortal woman, then the blood is on your hands, not mine.”

  “She is blessed. You know I cannot turn away.”

  “Then do what you must and I will do what I must.” Merrick bowed, leaving his brother’s room. When he climbed down the stairs, the tavern was empty. He stopped. Without looking around, he said, “Gregor. Have you been demoted from courier to barkeep?”

  “My king may be blind, but I know what you really are,” Gregor said behind him. “I’ve always known.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Evil.”

  “I could have told you that much.” Merrick chuckled. His eyes darkened in rage, but his voice was calm, mocking. “You’re still going on about that woman, are you? Shyra was hardly faithful to you, Gregor. I was not the first she gave pleasure to, nor have I been the last. Would you like me to show you what I know of her?”

  Gregor hissed, tossing two daggers at Merrick’s back before he could turn around. Merrick sensed the attack and tried to block the knives. One blade sliced into his arm. Bouncing off him, it fell to the floor. The other stuck in his shoulder. Growling, Merrick ripped the dagger from his flesh. He stumbled on his feet, lightheaded. Sniffing the dagger, he cursed as he recognized the scent of dragon’s blood.

  “Get him!” Gregor ordered. Knights wearing the red tunic of the Blessed Guard came from behind him. They wielded their swords, all soaked with the blood of a dragon. Such an amount wouldn’t kill Merrick, but it would weaken him.

  Merrick growled, throwing power onto his attackers. Many flew back, hitting the wall. His legs weighty, he forced his way through the tavern doors and into the crowded streets. Blinking heavily in the harsh sunlight, he waved his hands through the air. The dragon’s blood was laced with magic. Seeing two thick arms coming for him, Merrick collapsed, falling into a dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  Silver Palace of the Faeries, Kingdom of Feia

  “I am Queen Tania. Welcome to the Kingdom of Feia.” The tall faery waved her small hand to encompass the sparkling great hall of her home. She was slender with dark blonde hair parted in the middle. The locks fell to her waist in silken waves, held down by a silver and diamond crown. Her white wings were threaded with silver veins. They fluttered behind her back, making her body hover down the stairs from her throne to the main floor rather than walk. “And welcome to my court.”

  The tips of her toes barely touched the ground as she flew forward to study the humans. She glanced over Nicholas and Thomas, only to stop when she got to Hugh. Juliana watched as the queen studied the earl longer than the others. To her amazement, Hugh looked at the faery queen just as intently. A smile started to curl on her brother’s lips when suddenly the queen slapped him. Those in the hall gasped. Hugh touched his cheek. His face hardened and he didn’t move.

  Finally, the queen came to Juliana. The faery smiled. “You are the one who travels to King Merrick?”

  “Aye,” Juliana answered. Not wishing to get slapped, she averted her eyes. The faery fluttered before her face. Juliana turned her face the other direction. The faery queen again tried to catch her eyes. Juliana made a move to turn again when the queen grabbed her chin and turned it up. Juliana hesitantly looked at her.

  The queen smiled. “Much better.”

  Juliana frowned and glanced at Hugh.

  “Ah, that. Well, Lord Bellemare shouldn’t have such thoughts without invitation to do so,” the queen explained. Hugh’s jaw tightened.

  “How do you know who we are?” Juliana asked.

  “My dear, everyone knows who you are. You’re the human who kisses the King of the Unblessed. You can’t go about kissing kings without everyone in the realm knowing you did it.”

  Juliana paled. The queen laughed. Soon those in the faery hall joined in. Guiltily, she glanced at Nicholas. His eyed burned into her.

  “We thank you for your hospitality, but we must be going,” Hugh said, tight-lipped. He grabbed Juliana’s arm and tried to lead her away.

  The queen fluttered over his head and landed before him. Scowling, she said, “I didn’t dismiss you.”

  “I didn’t wait to be dismissed.” Hugh pulled Juliana around the queen and stormed for the door. The faeries poofed into smaller form and scurried out of his way.

  “I can get you to the Black Palace,” Tania called, sitting cross-legged on her throne.

  Hugh stopped. He was breathing hard. His hand tightened and loosened on Juliana’s arm.

  “Maybe we should listen,” Juliana whispered.

  “She’s right,” Thomas said quietly from behind them. “Do you really want to walk out on a queen’s hospitality? Do you want to risk her anger? Perchance she can really help us. Maybe she knows the way to the Black Palace.”

  “We don’t have much time left.” Juliana pulled from Hugh’s grip and turned to the queen. Louder, she stated, “We welcome your help, Your Majesty, and are grateful for it.”

  “I don’t trust her,” Hugh growled under his breath.

  Juliana gave her brother a helpless look at the comment. Nicholas tried to stand next to her, but Tania smiled brightly and fluttered forward to take her arm. The queen pulled Juliana before the throne once more before dropping her arm.

  “First you bathe and relax. Then, tonight, we will dine,” the queen announced. Tania clapped her hands and lively music drifted over the hall. The faeries cheered, clapping their hands. Several winged women rushed forward, leading the human guests from the hall.

  * * *

  Juliana stretched her arms over her head. The faery queen stayed true to her word. She had been given a private room and a warm bath. Every luxury she could have ever asked for was before her—lavender soap and hair rinse, a large white bed with a thick feather mattress, a beautiful tunic gown of soft blue material that shimmered when she moved. It was almost perfect, marred only by
the reason she was at Feia in the first place.

  With a sigh, she poked her head out of the door. No one was there. Thomas, Hugh and Nicholas had been led to chambers just down the hall from hers. Only problem was she didn’t remember which room was whose. Tiptoeing down the hall, she stopped at the first door. A woman laughed on the other side and there was a loud splash followed by a moan.

  Juliana giggled, covering her mouth. She assumed the room belonged to Thomas. He always was the charmer. She wouldn’t want to interrupt anything in there. Tiptoeing to the second door, she paused. A low masculine moan sounded from that room.

  Nicholas or Hugh?

  Juliana listened, pressing her ear to the wood. Furniture creaked. The man moaned again. He was joined by a feminine sigh. Juliana pulled away. It must be Hugh.

  “Juliana?”

  Juliana stiffened. She turned to Hugh who stood by the third door. He was dressed in a clean blue tunic and black breeches. His wet hair clung to his forehead.

  “If you’re here…” Juliana frowned and pushed open the door to Nicholas’ chamber without stopping to think.

  “Juliana?” Hugh asked. She ignored him. Nicholas was on a bed much like the one in her room. He was naked, his hips thrusting between the parted thighs of a blue-winged faery. Her tiny hands pulled his mouth to her breast and he was sucking it like a man starved. Worse still, there were two more naked faeries behind him—one with green wings, one with yellow. They pressed along his back, their hands rubbing along his length.

  Nicholas groaned, thrusting harder as the green faery pinched his nipples. Juliana paled, backing away. Hugh caught her in his arms and she yelped in surprise.

  “Juliana, what…?” Hugh looked in at Nicholas, who stared out of his room with an expression akin to horror.

  “Juliana,” Nicholas said loudly. She heard a scuffle, then footfalls as Nicholas tried to get off the bed. A faery protested his going. Juliana wiggled away from Hugh.

  “Don’t let him near me,” she yelled over her shoulder to her brother as she ran down the hall.

  “Juliana!” Nicholas called. There was the sound of a struggle as Hugh held him back. “Hugh, let me pass. I must—”