King of the Unblessed

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Merrick. His burden is great,” Kalen said, looking up at her.

  Juliana nodded once and looked away. Kalen said a great many things and, though she understood the words, she didn’t understand what he meant by them.

  “The blessed have it easy for they are blessed. The damned are damned, but Merrick is neither blessed nor damned. He is unblessed, hated for the things he must do and for the mischief of his subjects. He is linked to his subjects. We bring winter to the mortal world and he is cursed for it because winter brings death. But death is as necessary as birth. It isn’t his place to choose what happens, only his burden to bear it. We unblessed bring misfortune and suffering and bad luck. Without which you would not have fortune and prosperity. He is hated because his tasks are unpleasant. He is sworn against and feared because he is forever unknown.”

  “Why do you tell me this?” Juliana took a deep breath. She grew weary of trying to decipher who told her the truth and who tried to trick her. Her jaw tightened as she clenched her teeth.

  “As far as the mortal realm is concerned, Merrick is not murderous, just mischievous, like trolls and goblins in your folklore,” Kalen continued, as if he hadn’t heard her question. “Occasionally, their impishness results in death, like the tommyknockers misguiding those lost in a cave, but death is rare and never intentional. They bring bad luck so that people appreciate the good. Knowing this, you can reason that Merrick will not go out of his way to hurt others without just cause.”

  “I have cause to believe otherwise. You are his friend. Perhaps there are things you do not wish to see,” Juliana said.

  “There are many things, my lady, which I do not wish to see.” Kalen lifted his goblet and drank slowly as he stared over the hall. The snoring troll snorted and wheezed, tossing on the floor before settling once more. Finally, the elf lord turned his eyes back to her. “Within his garden there is a basin. Look into it. See your answers for yourself.”

  “Whoever goes there will not come out,” Juliana said.

  “It is true that none but Merrick has entered the garden and returned, but that is not to say they could not return if they were to try. You must ask yourself, is the chance to know the truth worth the risk?” Kalen asked. “For I know Merrick will not tell you what you would know. His burden is great and he cannot see past it. He’s watched everything around him die with his presence. Besides, he knows you wouldn’t believe him if he were to speak of it. Can you see why he wouldn’t even try?”

  “Like the plants?” Her voice was soft. “They die when he is near.”

  “Aye, like the plants.” Kalen nodded, as if she finally understood. “He’s alone and he must bear the harsh deeds of others until his death.”

  “But he’s immortal,” Juliana reasoned. “Doesn’t that mean he cannot die?”

  “Aye, should fate favor it, he will live forever. But that doesn’t mean he cannot be killed. All things can end, my lady. Nothing is definite, least of all our futures.”

  Juliana nodded, but could say nothing.

  “We can all see how you look at him. You fear him, even as you are drawn to his bed.”

  Juliana gasped. Instantly, she tried to deny it, “Nay, I—”

  Kalen’s rich laughter cut her off. He tipped his head back, letting the sound echo over the hall. “Do not deny it. You reek of him, my lady. His claim is all over you.”

  Stunned, Juliana tried to smell herself without being too obvious.

  “Ah, perhaps reek is not the right word. You are marked by him. Immortals can smell it well enough. Do not worry, my lady, the smell is not unpleasant, just there.”

  Juliana stood, mortified the truth was so known and angry that Lord Kalen would be so ungentlemanly as to say it aloud. She tried to stomp off, but his words gave her pause.

  “His power comes from fear. If you don’t fear him, he can’t have power over you.” Kalen waited for her to turn before continuing. “He can be frightening, though, if you should tempt him. He can make you see things that never leave you.”

  Juliana stalked back to the head table, glaring at Kalen. “He is your friend. Why tell me all this? What do you get out of it?”

  Kalen only smiled.

  “Why would you help me?” she demanded, trembling violently. How was it possible she’d get angry at Kalen’s help? It didn’t make sense, for what he said would only benefit her. Still, her hands shook with fury. “What do you get out of it, my lord?”

  Very straightforwardly, he leaned forward and whispered, “Merrick was never meant to rule our kind alone.”

  “And you think to help him?”

  Kalen smiled. “Aye, I help him.”

  “You betray him.”

  Kalen looked upset. His jaw tightened in anger, but his voice was calm. “My army marches for him. He calls, I come. Do not speak to me of betrayal, human.”

  “He is your king. You are bound by duty to serve him.” Juliana’s whole body shook.

  Kalen relaxed, the tension leaving him as quickly as it came. He stood. “Ah, mortals. You can never see things how they are.”

  “I’m tired of you people acting as if my mortality makes me stupid,” Juliana growled. “I understand just fine.”

  Stepping around the table, Kalen came to her. He touched her cheek, stroking it. She refused to back down. His eyes flashed as it was the warrior who spoke, not the man. “Then don’t be foolish. Use the knowledge I have given you.”

  Someone cleared his throat. Kalen and Juliana turned to Merrick. The king stared at them. Kalen slowly lowered his hand from her face. He looked unconcerned.

  “My lady.” Kalen bowed to her before walking toward Merrick.

  * * *

  Merrick watched Kalen leave Juliana. His gut was tight with anger and distrust, but he refused to show emotion. When Kalen neared, he said, “Gather your men. We ride into battle. Ean’s soldiers have been seen marching toward Valdis’ borders. They mean to attack.”

  “And the lady?” Kalen asked, not sparing Juliana a glance.

  “She’ll ride as well,” Merrick said.

  “Is that wise? A mortal on the battlefield?”

  Merrick fisted his hands. “I can protect her. Do you doubt me?”

  “Nay, my king, I do not.” Kalen lifted a hand and placed it on Merrick’s shoulder.

  Merrick glared at him, still seeing the man’s hand on Juliana’s cheek in his mind’s eye.

  “But,” Kalen continued, “she is a distraction. Besides, her brothers search for her. Ean wants her. Why bring them their prize? Leave her here where she will remain untouched.”

  “You have seen something?”

  “If you bring her to the battlefield, you will lose her forever,” Kalen said.

  Merrick stared at him, wondering if the man was telling the truth. He’d never been suspicious of Kalen before. His gut tightened. He was suspicious now.

  “If you are worried, I will leave one of my men to guard her.” Kalen gave a small smile.

  Merrick tensed. “Nay. All of your men ride.”

  “As you wish, my king.” Kalen bowed his head. He left the hall.

  “Majesty?” Juliana called when he didn’t move. Merrick closed his eyes. “Merrick?”

  “Aye?”

  “What did that goblin have to say?” she asked, coming closer to him.

  “King Ean’s army marches.” He knew his words were clipped, but he couldn’t help it. He was trying to rein in his jealousy. When he looked at her face, he tried to read her emotions. He couldn’t. “We will ride to meet him.”

  “You would truly fight your own brother? Your blood?”

  “I would fight my enemy, the King of the Blessed. He is no longer my brother.” Merrick took a deep breath. She stepped closer, studying his face. Her eyes searched his. He kept a passionless expression.

  “He is your blood, Merrick. No matter what happens, he is your brother.”

  “Much has happened you do not know,” Merrick said. “There are things which
I will most likely never tell you.”

  “What can I do to make this stop?” She rested her head lightly to his chest. He felt her tremble. “What pledge would you have of me to end this? To never battle again? Is this really worth dying over?”

  Merrick hesitated before lifting his hand to stroke her hair. The length was soft beneath his fingers. “You are the excuse, not the reason, Juliana. Just like the land, all things must renew. The season of peace must fall to the season of war. Peace has reigned for far too long and now there must be war. It is time. War is a necessity of peace. Without one there is no other. Immortals will die so more may be born.”

  Merrick ran his hand to her lower back, stroking lightly, thinking of his child growing inside her. He had no idea if the baby was there already or if he’d have to wait a thousand years to get her pregnant. Perhaps fate would be cruel and take the dream of a family away from him. Kalen’s visions were only pieces of the future—bigger pieces than most, but pieces nonetheless.

  Merrick had gone to the divining basin, staring at it. He’d asked to see the future, to see his son, in hopes of gleaning when it might be. All he’d gotten was the image of Juliana screaming, tears falling over her pale cheeks. Then he’d seen his own hands covered in blood.

  “If I am to die, then so be it.” Merrick wanted to ask her if she would mourn him, but refrained, unsure if he would like the answer.

  He hugged her so tight that Juliana hit his arm to be let go. “Merrick, stop, you’re hurting me.” When he released her, she pressed a hand over her heart and gasped for air.

  “I ride with Lord Kalen and his men,” he told her.

  “Nay, you…” Juliana bit her lip, not meeting his eyes. A wave of fear washed over him from her, feeding him. “I do not trust Lord Kalen.”

  “What proof have you of this fear?”

  “None,” she said, her voice small. “Just…do not turn your back on him.”

  “I trust him.” Merrick pulled her forward into his arms once more. A soft music played and the stones of the hall shifted, lifting them a few feet as he danced with her.

  “What are you doing?” Juliana looked at him as if he were mad. Perhaps he was.

  “Dancing.”

  “On the eve of battle?”

  “Aye. I felt like dancing.” Wherever they stepped stones grew to support them and when they stepped away the stone disappeared.

  “I don’t understand you, Merrick,” she said, even as she settled into his arms. “And it is clear to me I don’t understand much of your world.”

  He twirled her around, enjoying the simple pleasure of her skirt brushing his legs, of her hair tickling his chin as she leaned her head to his chest.

  “I want to go home.” Juliana pulled back to look at him. “Please. I beg you.”

  “You are home.”

  “I want to go home to Bellemare. I want to be with my family. I want to see my brothers. I want…” She sniffed, a tear rolling over her cheek. “I want the magic to stop. I was a fool to dream of your world. I don’t belong in this realm. I’m lost. I don’t understand it.”

  “You would give up all I offer you to go home to Bellemare? Immortality? Power?”

  “I have no power,” she said. “I am your prisoner.”

  “Then ask me for what power you would have.”

  “I have never sought power. Such things are the pursuit of men. I long for a feeling. The type of contentment you get from laying on your back in a soft field, bathed by sunlight, knowing there is nothing better to do with your time. Those are the simple pleasures I long for.”

  She said the words and he longed for it too. It had been so long since he’d been free of responsibility. But where he wandered in the immortal realm, life did not blossom. The sun did not shine as brightly as it had for him at Tegwen so long ago.

  “Nay, my lady, your heart longed for adventure when I met you. You may not know it, but it longs for it still.” Merrick kept dancing.

  “Merrick…” She said no more.

  “I must go.” The music abruptly stopped as Merrick set her on the floor. His tone hardened. “I have a war to fight. You will remain here at the palace.”

  Juliana gasped as he strode away from her. He did not turn back.

  * * *

  Hugh eyed the elfin king Ean’s encampment. They rode in without incident. It was as if the men had been waiting for them. The blessed soldiers stared as they passed, admiring the Bellemare horses more than studying the humans. Only one tent was set up in the clearing in the forest. Its white gossamer material fluttered in the breeze, looking to have threads of gold within its silky white. Through the tent walls, Hugh made out a lone figure on the ground. The man lay on his back, unmoving.

  Hugh swung off his horse. Instantly a man was at his side, holding his hand out toward the stallion. Hugh placed the reins in the soldier’s hand. The soldier dropped the reins and led the horse away without touching the animal, his hand uplifted under the horse’s nose. After taking a few steps back, he stopped. Others gathered around the stallion, admiring it. They murmured amongst themselves, moving their hands to indicate the darker eel stripe over the horse’s chestnut coat. Hugh didn’t understand their language, but knew well the nods of appreciation the animal received. The horse didn’t move. Hugh was amazed. His stallion was usually a spirited animal who didn’t take to strangers.

  The elfin soldiers were as tall and varied as humans, though they all appeared youthful and strong. There wasn’t an old warrior amongst them. The only marked difference was their extremely long hair and the slight point to the tops of their ears. Most of the soldiers wore bright red tunics that hung long over their legs. They slit up the side to allow movement. Their dark breeches were plain and they wore boots not so unlike those worn in the mortal realm.

  Hugh heard Thomas and Nicholas dismount behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see their horses led away in the same manner, only to be inspected. Nodding once to his companions, he moved to the tent opening.

  “Come, Lord Bellemare” the man inside said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Hugh brushed aside the gossamer flap and stepped inside. Instantly the noise from the surrounding encampment stopped, though he could see out of the transparent walls just fine. Thomas and Nicholas were on the outside, running their hands over the opening, unable to get in. Thomas narrowed his eyes in question. His mouth moved but there was no sound. Hugh made a motion to wait. Thomas nodded and turned to Nicholas.

  “I assure you, you are safe,” the man on the floor said. His blue eyes opened to look up from the ground, where he lay on a soft bed of material. Long blond hair spilled over his shoulders. His tunic was similar in style to the red warriors, but the material was light blue with threads of gold. There was something familiar to the man, a feeling more than a recognition. It was the same feeling he got seconds after winning at tournament, a brief fleeting sensation that coursed in his blood after battle. Only now it was stronger, as if it emanated off the man before him.

  Instantly understanding, Hugh got down on one knee, bowing his head. “King Ean.”

  Ean sat up. He crossed his legs, staying on the ground. “You know me?”

  “Aye,” Hugh said. He again stood to his feet. “By feeling.”

  Ean motioned that Hugh should join him on the ground. “You come to this realm for Lady Juliana?”

  “Aye.”

  “I do not have her,” Ean said. “Why come to me now?”

  “King Merrick has my sister. I’m told you march against him. I would join your army in battle to win her back.”

  “My father truly blessed you, didn’t he.” It wasn’t a question. Ean smiled slightly. “It is all over you and your brother. But this other man. He is your knight?”

  Hugh glanced at Nicholas. “He is a friend.”

  “And he seeks revenge.” Ean nodded. “A cloud surrounds him.”

  “His father, Juliana’s intended, was murdered.”

  “Mm,
that would explain the darkness.” Ean closed his eyes briefly, nodding in thought. The king smiled politely. “According to the scrolls, the Bellemare line has continued to earn the blessing we have given it.”

  Hugh watched the elfin king carefully. He had a likable manner to him. The tent was cool, as a breeze fluttered the tent walls.

  “And William? He is a wizard apprentice.”

  “Aye. He is.”

  “You don’t approve of this?” Ean gave a knowing look.

  “I did not know of this,” Hugh admitted. He got the impression he was being tested.

  “I see by your clothes you’ve been to Feia.” Ean chuckled as Hugh tensed. “I see by your face you did not partake of the pleasures of the faeries.”

  “Queen Tania imprisoned me and sent my sister to King Merrick.” Hugh gritted his teeth, embarrassed to have been held captive by a woman.

  “Meddling woman. She’s still angry with me for denying Lady Lily and Lady Roslyn of her court. They both wished to be my bride. Because of their scheming, I cast them from my bed. Faeries are a flighty, vindictive lot, but their selfishness makes them predictable. Will you take revenge against the faeries for detaining you?”

  “I am angry,” Hugh said, “and will not make that decision today. I will wait until my temper has cooled and I can think on it logically.”

  “You’re honest and fair.” Ean stood and reached out his hand, fingers up. Hugh rose to his feet and hesitated before copying the movement. Ean pressed his palm forward. “You may ride with us, Lord Bellemare.”

  “Thank you, your majesty,” Hugh said, bowing. When he pulled up the tent was gone.

  “He has passed!” Ean announced. The warriors cheered. Ean clapped Hugh on the shoulder. “Come.”

  “I have passed what, your majesty?” Hugh asked.

  “The place of truth. If you were to lie to me, it would have collapsed upon us.” Ean shrugged. “An honest man will have honest pursuits. Now, come, let us eat. For tomorrow we fight.” Then, throwing back his head, he laughed, “And do not worry. We have no women with which to torture you. Tonight, there will be no faeries.”