Kingdom of the Western Wind

by Clara Martin

  “And how will you do that, brother?” Faolain sneered on the last word. “You are the bastard son of my father, the king, sired on a human slave. You have been a thorn in mine and my father’s side for the past ten years – but no more. Help us, and I will let the woman go. Don’t help us, and you both die.” He snapped his fingers, and I rose in the air, tumbling head over heels. “Perhaps Eileen has an opinion she wishes to now add,” he said idly.

  “I do,” I said furiously, disoriented from the spinning. “Charles, don’t do it. Nothing’s worth Sarah’s life. I knew the risks –” I was cut off with a muffled yelp when my jaw snapped shut.

  Faolain laughed quietly. “Not smart, Eileen. Brave, but not smart.”

  The door opened, and Eamon walked in. He bowed deeply. “My lord?” he asked

  “Charles here has agreed to help us find my slave Sarah.” Faolain paused. “We leave tomorrow at dawn. Put Charles in the cells and Eileen in my personal chambers.”

  “Absolutely not!” Charles thundered, tearing at the table. I thought chunks of it might come off.

  Faolain ignored him. “We want him to remember the price of failure. Eileen will be safe – tonight. But if you think to delay, if you think to buy the slave time, don’t think I will hesitate to use Eileen in the slave’s place.” He flipped his hand, and I stopped spinning and dropped to the floor. I threw up noisily.

  “Get someone to clean that up, Eamon,” Faolain snapped. He swept out of the throne room without another word.

  Eamon went to the door and stuck his head out. “Guard!” he called sharply. A guard came in, and Eamon pointed at the puddle of vomit underneath me. The guard nodded and left. A few moments later, a young human girl, barely twelve, skinny and clothed in rags, came in. She had bruises around her eyes and nose, and her hair was cut short about her ears. Avoiding my eyes, she knelt and began to clean up the vomit.

  “Thank you,” I said weakly. She looked up in surprise and then back down.

  “Don’t speak to the slaves,” Eamon said sharply. I scowled at him. “Unless,” he added, “you want them executed under suspicion of carrying messages to rebels.”

  The girl shivered and hastily finished cleaning up the vomit. She threw me an indecipherable look and hurried out of the room.

  “Go,” Eamon snapped at the guard. He went out as well, closing the door behind him.

  I waited until he was gone, and then I sat up, glaring at Eamon. “Thanks for the tip,” I said bitterly.

  “The tip I gave you,” Eamon said patiently, “was one hundred percent correct.” He paused. “It’s unfortunate – for you – that things turned out this way.”

  “Unfortunate? You planned this!”

  “I did not, in fact.”

  “What?” Charles put in. He had been watching silently until now. His face went dark. “Eileen, what happened? What did you do?”

  “I think,” Eamon said, “That it’s time you went to your cell, dear brother.” He went to the door. “Guard!” The guard came back in. “Take Talbot to his cell.” The guard snapped a salute, and two more guards came in.

  A nimbus of golden light surrounded Charles, forcing him to stand. He looked at me right before it reached his mouth. “Eileen,” he whispered. “Don’t do anything stupid.” The golden light reached his mouth, gagging him and forcing him to look straight ahead. I nearly sobbed.

  The guards took him away. Eamon waited until they were gone and then sat down with a sigh. “Now,” he said. “My dear brother Faolain is occupied, and my other dear brother – one of many, mind – Charles is in his cell… We have time to plan.” He propped his head on his hand. “This was unfortunate,” he mused, “but it could turn to our advantage.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, frowning.

  “It’s quite simple.”He watched me. “Faolain cannot be allowed to get his hands on that slave. She carries information that is, as you’ve heard, quite damaging to him. Word getting back to the king, his father, would be, for Faolain, catastrophic.”

  “Are you l’Inconnu?” I asked directly.

  Eamon’s teeth flashed in a smile. “Now. that, my dear, would be telling.”

  “Our intelligence,” I said slowly, “says that l’Inconnu and Faolain are in competition for the throne.”

  “Oh, Sarah has been talking.” Eamon let out a pleased laugh. “Yes, that is correct. And I would venture to guess that Sarah knows more than she’s told you…but as a slave, she’s learned to be careful about who she trusts.”

  I frowned. “I don’t understand,” I said slowly “Why were the kidnappers chasing me if it’s Sarah they want?”

  “There are many factions within the fae court.” Eamon raised his finger in admonishment. “They do want you, Eileen. It would take far to long to give you a lesson on fae politics.”

  “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  “All you need to know right now, Eileen, is that I’m helping you. But we’ll have to move fast. And of course, it can’t look like I’m helping you.” He tapped a finger to his lips. “The first thing to do,” he mused, “is send a message to the king in Faolain’s name saying you’ve been captured.” He smiled, a brilliant gleam of teeth. “Imagine how it’ll look when you escape.”

  I blinked. “Won’t he blame you? Aren’t you his enforcer?”

  He shrugged. “He’ll blame me, of course…but it’s like the military, Eileen. Success or failure is always the result of the commander.” He smiled. “Especially for his father.” As he stood, he added. “Wait for your opportunity. You’ll know it when you see it.”

  “Will it include Charles?” I asked pointedly. “And the men of Strike Team Three?”

  “I suppose it must,” Eamon said with poor grace. “You won’t go along with it otherwise.” He sighed. “It’ll be considerably more difficult to arrange. And you’ll have to be creative – which you are in any case. It would be easier, Eileen, if you could use magic.”

  “Well, I can’t,” I said, stung. “Deal.”

  “I’ll just have to, won’t I,” Eamon murmured. He went to the door. “Do you,” he asked without turning, “have your medication?”

  “No,” I admitted. “Your beast took me without anything. Including my meds.”

  “Well, that’s just wonderful.” He rapped on the door. “Guard! Take the prisoner to Prince Faolain’s rooms.” He paused. “She cannot use magic, so no need for a magical buffer.”

  The guard saluted. “Sir.” He gestured to two other guards, who formed up behind him. He took my arm and jerked me to his side. “Let’s go.”

  We walked down the hall, and I began to worry. I didn’t have my medications. What was I going to do? How would I function, when the medication ran out? I knew from experience that the hallucinations would start, the delusions would begin – eventually I’d need to be hospitalized. And I was in fae territory. I shivered.

  The guard misinterpreted it as an attempt to break away, and he gripped me tighter. “Stop moving,” he snapped.

  “And how,” I asked icily, “am I to walk if I stop moving?”

  He shook my arm. “Smart mouths get gagged, human.”

  I shrugged deliberately but quieted. We arrived at a wooden door carved with a crown. The guard rapped twice. There was no answer.

  “Get in there, human,” he ordered, opening the door and flinging me inside. “And don’t think of trying to escape. The windows are warded; we’re at the doors. You can’t get past us.” He shut the door with a decisive click.

  I looked around. The room was much more spartan than the one at the embassy, except for the bed; it was tall, canopied, covered with a sumptuous red comforter, and embroidered with the Northern Sun coat of arms.

  I rushed to the window and tried to open it. It buzzed with magical power and stood firm against my attempts. I rushed to the door. It opened, but the guard outside laughed at me. “I did warn you, human,” he said, pointing his sword at me. Discouraged, I closed the door and went
to the corner, drawing my knees up to my chest. There was nothing I could do. I had no magic, no medication, no way to contact Charles, the men of Strike Team Three, or Anna and Garrett at home. My thoughts turned back to what Faolain had said. How, I wondered, had he known that only Anna, Garrett, and I knew where Sarah was hidden? I was glad that he hadn’t realized that Rima had been working out the logistics for the Centreville safehouse. Could Rima have betrayed us? As much as I tried, I just couldn’t see it. Who else had been in the room with us?

  The door opened, and Faolain walked in. “Hiding in a corner, I see,” he remarked as he looked me over.

  I stood, straightening my spine. “Better standing in a corner,” I said icily, “than lying in your bed.” Not my best comeback, but I was tired and rattled.

  “You might enjoy lying in my bed,” Faolain said idly. “Many human women do.”

  “I doubt that they have much choice.”

  Faolain laughed. “Choice? My dear Eileen, the slaves here compete for the honor!” He waved his hand in a sweeping motion. “Security, my favor, status – what else could a slave want?”

  “Freedom?” I suggested.

  “Freedom.” He laughed again. “You humans are barely fit to live. And you want to manage your own affairs? Freedom, indeed.”

  “This,” I said firmly, “has gone on long enough. I want to see my ambassador.”

  Faolain laughed. “Yes, of course, my dear. We’ll get you the ambassador directly.” He walked over and tipped my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Right after we get you tea with milk and a nice snack – you fool. Do you really think you’ll be speaking to your ambassador? He’s nothing more than a figurehead.”

  “I am a citizen of the United States of America, kidnapped from American soil –”

  “Yes, yes,” he said dismissively, “we were very, very naughty.” He ran his fingers down my cheek. “You’d best hope, Eileen,” he breathed, “that I can keep my promise to your boyfriend. I have a…weakness…for strong-willed human women.” He smiled. “I enjoy them.”

  “You,” I said, trying to keep my voice strong, “have no idea what strong-willed means.”

  “I think,” he murmured, “that I am about to forget my promise to Charles.” He bent down and kissed me deeply. I yelled and bit him on the lip, drawing blood. He drew back, laughing, his eyes alight.

  “A challenge!” he exclaimed. “The last time we tried this, you hit me with a chair. You will notice there are no chairs here, Eileen, and you will not find me such an easy mark this time –”

  I kicked him and was suddenly airborne. He made a slight gesture with his hand, and I found myself pinned to the wall once more, arms and legs spread. I squirmed but couldn’t move. Faolain walked over and roughly stuck his hands under my shirt, running them down my body, lingering over my breasts. He ground his hands into them.

  “Now,” he murmured. “Now, let’s see about that chair.” He smiled at me, blood trickling down his chin.

  There was a knock at the door. Faolain scowled. “What,” he barked.

  “My lord,” the guard said, “it’s Lord Eamon. He needs to speak to you.”

  Faolain sighed. “Send him in.” He turned and walked to the center of the room. I took a deep breath, composing myself as best I could.

  “My lord.” Eamon entered and bowed deeply. He looked around the room and saw me. He raised his eyebrows. “Enjoying yourself, my lord?” he inquired silkily.

  “I was about to,” Faolain replied a little sulkily. “What is it, Eamon?”

  “There’s a disturbance at the gate, my lord.”

  “So, handle it, Eamon. That’s what you’re here to do.” As Faolain stared at me, his fingers twitched.

  “I believe that this might be handled better by you, my lord.” Eamon hesitated. “There are indications there are rebels in the woods.”

  This startled Faolain. “Rebels? How in Lugh’s name would rebels travel from the outskirts of the capital to this Morrigan-forsaken land?”

  Eamon lifted his shoulders in a minute shrug. “That’s what the guards are reporting.”

  Faolain’s lips twisted, and he strode from the room without another word. I twisted, but the magic pinning me to the wall held.

  “He and the guards should be busy chasing imaginary rebels for the rest of the night,” Eamon said quietly as he approached me. He regarded me steadily. “I can’t let you down –if Faolain came back to the room and found you on the ground, comfortable, he would wonder why I had.”

  I nodded. “Why did you help me?”

  His shoulders twitched minutely. “Because I want you to help me. Don’t imagine I did this out of the goodness of my heart,” he warned, his voice hard. He turned his back and walked to the door.

  I swallowed. “Thank you,” I called quietly just as he was about to walk out.

  He stopped, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and nodded jerkily. Then he opened the door and strode out.

  Chapter 3

  The night passed slowly. I tried to sleep, but stuck to the wall as I was, sleep was hard to come by. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to return feeling to my fingers, but the blood had long since left them. I leaned my head back instead and tried to think.

  “It’s past nine thirty,” Joe said, appearing before me. He was wearing his Army uniform, as he usually did. “You know what that means.”

  “Indeed,” Sheldon agreed, appearing next to me. “Guess who forgot her medicine,” he said in a sing-song voice.

  “She’ll be back in the hospital before she knows it,” Joe whispered to Sheldon. They both giggled.

  “Go away,” I growled.

  “That’s all she says – go away, go away, go away. Don’t you miss the days of her breakdown, when she thought we were real? When she told us her deepest, darkest secrets and her greatest wishes?” Joe approached me, extending his hand. “We’re real, Eileen,” he whispered. “We always have been. The medication is poison in your system, keeping you from reaching your true potential.”

  I shook my head viciously. “Go away,” I hissed. “You’re lying to me.” My voice cracked.

  “Eileen – ” Sheldon walked up to me, behind Joe. “Don’t you understand? We’re real. We’re here beside you. You’re not alone.” His voice dropped. “You’ll never, ever be alone.”

  The door opened. Sheldon and Joe looked over and gasped in unison. Faolain stood there with Charles in front of him. Charles was surrounded by the same golden fire he’d been taken away in. He looked at me, his eyes full of pain, and tried to speak. It came out as a groan.

  “Charles,” I whispered.

  “Yes, Charles,” Faolain purred. “Eileen and I very nearly spent a delightful night together. Unfortunately, it was interrupted.” He inhaled. “Oh, that’s delightful,” he said in surprise. “I can just smell the sickness on you, Eileen. I had no idea it would hit so quickly – it must be the stress. Tell me, Charles, can you sense it as well?”

  Charles moaned unhappily. Faolain tsked impatiently and flicked his wrist. The golden light surrounding Charles’s mouth disappeared.

  “Please,” Charles whispered, “Let her go. She needs her medication. I’ll do anything.”

  “And this is all it takes to reduce the great Charles Talbot to begging.” Faolain sounded viciously satisfied. “I will not. She is insurance, brother.”

  “At least give her her medicine!”

  Faolain smiled cruelly. “Why? To allow her to fight back? No.” He paused, allowing that to sink in. “No, Eileen will have to continue to be crazed.”

  “You’re not crazed, Eileen,” Sheldon whispered from where he stood next to me. “You’re perfectly healthy.” He nodded to Faolain. “Now, Faolain – he’s a piece of work.” I nodded my head in agreement. Charles moaned long and low.

  “Let me go to her,” he said. Faolain shrugged. “Why not. Then we leave.” He started forwards, pushing Faolain along with him. Charles got to my side and gently touched my hand.
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br />   “Eileen,” he whispered. “Eileen, are you hearing voices?”

  “Don’t tell him, Eileen!” Joe said in alarm. “He’ll put you back on your medicine!”

  “And besides,” Sheldon said practically, “he has enough to worry about.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine, Charles,” I whispered.

  Charles exhaled. “I wish I could believe that, Eileen,” he whispered. He gripped my hand tightly. “Eileen, I’m going to see you safe.” His eyes searched my face.

  “Charles, don’t worry about me,” I said softly. “Please don’t do this.”

  “My heart – I would give up my life for my country. I won’t sacrifice you for it.” He released my hand. “I’m ready to go

  “Well,” Faolain said sarcastically, “since we’re on your schedule.” He waved his hand, and I fell from the wall and landed on the floor. I winced, massaging feeling back into my fingers and hands. The guards rushed in and picked me up.

  “Be ready, Eileen,” Charles whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”

  “So he says,” Sheldon said, sniggering. “You can’t trust him, Eileen.”

  “You can trust us,” Joe added. “You can only trust us.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Charles looked at me with pain in his eyes. “Eileen,” he said gently, “the voices aren’t real.”

  I looked at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  He sighed. “Where did you last see your medication?”

  I thought back. “It was in the car… I was driving when the bat creature landed on the roof and grabbed me.”

  Charles nodded. “Eileen…how did your psychosis begin last time?”

  I looked at the guards surrounding us, at the gold fire restraining Charles, at Prince Faolain walking in front of us. “You really want to talk about this now?”

  “Eileen… Eileen, please.”

  I frowned. “I was at work,” I said slowly. “I’d been hallucinating for a few days but hadn’t realized anything was wrong.” I shrugged. “Suddenly two men appeared in front of me and told me that I was in danger, that there was a bomb in the building, and that I had to run.”