So I Married a Sorcerer

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “You agreed.”

  “I was forced! Do you remember the nun who came with me? Sister Fallyn? Mador is holding her hostage. He threatened to kill her if I don’t marry him.”

  Gunther gave her an annoyed look. “Then marry him.”

  “You would have me marry a man who could kill a nun?”

  Gunther shrugged. “He knows how to get the results he wants. That’s an admirable trait.”

  Brigitta groaned with frustration. “He’s not even Mador. He’s an imposter who—”

  “Enough! I’m sick of hearing that ridiculous excuse.”

  “Your Majesty!” Lord Argus ran into the Great Hall, then stopped with a grimace. “I-I have bad—”

  “Out with it!” Gunther yelled.

  Lord Argus inclined his head. “The people of Lourdon are in the streets, demanding that you … abdicate.”

  “What?” Gunther stalked toward his chief counsel. “Where would they get such a stupid idea?”

  “It’s because of these notices, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus lifted a sheet of paper. “They’re being spread all over Lourdon and in every village across the coun—”

  “Let me see.” Gunther ripped the paper from Lord Argus’s hand. His face grew pale as he read it. “Is—is this true?”

  Lord Argus winced. “I don’t know, Your Majesty.”

  Gunther’s hand shook. “It can’t be true!” He turned toward Brigitta, his face flushing a mottled red. “Did you know about this? Have you been conspiring with him?”

  “I don’t know what that is,” she replied.

  Gunther shoved the paper in her face and shouted, “Did you know?”

  She quickly read the notice.

  Seven is the true hero of the competition for the princess Brigitta.

  Seven is Rupert, who stole Gunther’s gold so he can return it to you, the people.

  Seven is the lost Prince Ulfrid, who will rescue you from Gunther’s tyranny and bring you peace and prosperity.

  Gunther crumpled the paper in his fist and threw it across the room. “Is it true? Seven is Rupert and the lost prince?”

  Brigitta nodded. “It’s true.”

  Gunther raised his fists in the air with a growl of frustration. “You conspired with the enemy!”

  “We are the enemy,” Brigitta said. “Our family murdered his and stole the crown. It belongs to him.”

  “No!” Gunther grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “You fool! The crown belongs to the one with enough balls to take it.”

  “Your Majesty!” A soldier ran into the room. “Admiral Helgar has just arrived. Th-the royal navy has been destroyed and taken over by the pirate Rupert.”

  Gunther flinched.

  “Then I guess the crown will be his,” Brigitta whispered. “’Cause he certainly has the balls to take it.”

  “No!” Gunther shouted.

  “Let me marry him,” Brigitta insisted. “It will unite the north and south. The kings will come from the House of Trepurin and the House of Grian. Your bloodline will continue to rule.”

  “The Trepurins are the enemy!” Gunther stormed across the room toward the dais. “Get General Mador in here. Now!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus dispatched a guard to fetch the new general.

  “The Trepurins ruled this country for four hundred years,” Brigitta said.

  “Stop it!” Gunther hissed at her. “You’re a traitor.”

  “I simply want to return our country to the rightful king. Rupert will take good care of our people. You can’t trust Mador to do that. We don’t even know who he is!”

  Another soldier arrived and whispered to Lord Argus. The chief counsel stumbled back, his hand trembling as he reached for a wall to steady himself.

  “What is it?” Gunther demanded.

  “Our troops that went north have been defeated by the rebels. The northern clans are marching toward Lourdon. The Norveshki dragons have burned three villages to the east. And to the south, King Leofric and the Eberoni army have crossed the Norva River.”

  Gunther turned pale as he stumbled onto the dais. “Attacked from all sides.” He collapsed onto the throne.

  Brigitta’s heart pounded with hope. Rupert was on his way. She wouldn’t have to marry Mador, for he would be too busy fighting. And Rupert could finally take the throne. Then he could be reunited with his brother, and she … she would tell him how much she loved him.

  Gunther lifted his hands to touch the golden crown on his head. “It’s mine.” His gaze drifted to other people in the room. “It’s mine, dammit!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus bowed.

  General Mador strode into the Great Hall.

  Gunther jumped to his feet. “Call out the troops! Tourin is under attack!”

  Mador arched a brow, then motioned to the guards. “Tell the troops we march within the hour. Argus, step outside.” They all bowed and rushed from the room.

  “You have to leave, too!” Gunther shouted. “You have to save my crown!”

  Mador sauntered toward the king. “Why should I risk my life for a crown that belongs to you?”

  Gunther blinked. “What?”

  “The crown.” Mador’s eyes hardened. “Give it to me, and I’ll save it.”

  “You—” Gunther’s face turned red with rage as he stepped off the dais and strode toward Mador. “How dare you speak to me like that! I’ll have you arrested!”

  “By whom?” Mador smirked. “All the guards are gone.”

  “Get out there and fight!” Gunther yelled. “That’s an order.”

  “What’s the hurry?” Mador crossed his arms. “All I have to do is wait for the lost prince to show up. Then I shift into one of his trusted friends and slit his throat.”

  Brigitta gasped.

  Gunther stiffened. “Shift?”

  With a chuckle, Mador motioned to Brigitta. “She’s been trying to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen. Anyway, once Prince Ulfrid is dead, all the armies and rebels will give up and go away. The crown will be safe once more.”

  Brigitta stepped close to her brother. “Don’t trust him. He’ll kill you.”

  Mador shot her an annoyed look. “Stop interfering. I’m making a deal here.”

  Gunther eyed him warily. “Y-you can kill the lost prince for me?”

  Mador nodded. “Definitely. But I have two conditions. First, before Ulfrid can arrive, I will marry the princess.”

  “No,” Brigitta objected.

  Mador’s eyes narrowed. “Time for you to surrender, Princess. You know what will happen if you defy me.”

  “You can have her,” Gunther said. “What else?”

  With a huff, she turned toward her brother. “Are you crazy? He’s a monster. You can’t trust him.”

  Mador chuckled. “You will name me as your heir.”

  Gunther hesitated.

  “You think you can stop me?” Mador turned toward the doorway as his face shifted into Gunther’s. “Argus!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty?” Lord Argus peered inside.

  Mador had moved in front of the king to block Argus’s view. “Make it official. General Mador is my heir.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus bowed.

  “And Argus,” Mador continued as he impersonated the king. “Send for the priest and some witnesses. We’re going to have the wedding right away.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus scurried away.

  The false Mador chuckled, his face turning back to resemble the general. “See how easy it is?”

  Brigitta’s heart sank.

  Gunther stepped back. “Who are you?”

  “Your most trusted servant.” The false Mador smiled. “Until I decide it’s time to inherit the throne.”

  Gunther exchanged a look with Brigitta. She realized he finally understood the situation. The false Mador intended to kill him.

  “What did you do with the real Mador?” Gunther asked.

&nb
sp; The shifter shrugged. “I was waiting for him when he crossed the border from Norveshka. The fool was so distraught he told me everything that had happened. Then I killed him and threw his body into a ravine.”

  “Bastard,” Gunther whispered.

  The false Mador smirked. “Then I turned into an eagle to wait for Seven to cross the border. But to my surprise, he was with the princess.”

  An eagle? Brigitta thought back to when she’d found Bjornfrid and the royal seal. There had been an eagle in the tree. That’s how the shifter had known.

  The false Mador’s mouth twisted as he studied Brigitta. “That’s when I knew you were conspiring with Seven.” His hands fisted. “And I knew I would kill him and take you for myself.”

  An elderly priest arrived with several courtiers. “Are we rehearsing for the wedding ceremony tomorrow?”

  “No,” Mador growled. “The real wedding is happening now.”

  Trumpets sounded outside, and Lord Argus ran into the Great Hall. “A huge number of boats are moving incredibly fast up the Loure River. They’re almost here!”

  Rupert was on his way. Brigitta’s heart raced. She only had to stall until he could arrive.

  Mador seized her by the arm. “Great timing. I’ll marry you, then kill Seven.” She pulled away, but he grabbed her again. “Priest! Get started.”

  “Very well.” The elderly priest hobbled slowly toward the dais.

  “Quickly!” Mador shouted.

  Gunther grabbed hold of the priest’s arm. “It’s all right, Father Bran. Take your time.”

  “No, make it quick,” Mador argued.

  Father Bran looked from the king to the general, then slowly stepped onto the dais and turned to face them. “Blessed be the Light and all who worship him. May he shine upon you—”

  “Get on with it,” Mador ordered.

  “As you wish.” The priest gave him a sour look. “Marriage is the sacred joining of two souls, so they can love and nurture each other throughout the years—”

  “I need her to legitimize my claim to the throne,” Mador said, keeping his grip on Brigitta’s arm. “And I want her in my bed. Tonight.”

  Father Bran cleared his throat. “There is that, too.”

  Trumpets blasted outside once again, and the courtiers whispered excitedly to one another.

  A soldier ran into the Great Hall. “Seven is coming! The townspeople welcomed him and escorted him to the palace. He blew away all the guards—”

  “Hurry!” Mador yelled at the priest.

  “No!” Brigitta struggled to escape his grip. “I don’t want to marry him.”

  Father Bran frowned. “There seems to be a slight problem with the bride.”

  “She’ll get over it,” Mador growled.

  “I’ll throw myself off a balcony before I marry you!” Brigitta cried.

  The priest shook his head. “Suicide is frowned upon by the church, my dear.”

  “Is a forced marriage all right?” Brigitta asked, stalling for time.

  Mador pulled a knife and pointed it at her neck. “Say we’re married, priest, so I can hunt down her lover and kill him.”

  Father Bran blinked. “She has a lover?”

  “Yes, she does,” Rupert announced as he marched into the room. He flung his arms open, and a blast of wind shot through the Great Hall, knocking everyone over and shattering all the windows and mirrors with a deafening explosion.

  The courtiers screamed and huddled on the floor.

  Brigitta scrambled away from the shifter. Rupert ran toward her, but before he could reach her, Mador seized her from behind and pointed his knife at her throat.

  Rupert skidded to a halt. Stefan and Brody were behind him with a troop of armed seamen.

  “Let her go,” Rupert warned Mador.

  “He’s the Chameleon,” Brody said, drawing closer.

  “You, again,” Mador growled.

  “You won’t escape me this time.” Brody tore off his shirt and shifted into a dog, kicking away his breeches.

  The courtiers screeched.

  Brigitta stomped hard on the Chameleon’s foot while she grabbed his fingers and yanked them back. The Chameleon hissed in pain, loosening his grip enough that she could pull away.

  “Dammit, I’ll kill you.” He made a grab for her.

  “No!” Gunther jumped on the shifter, and the two men rolled about on the floor until the Chameleon reared up and stabbed Gunther in the chest. He stood, dropping the bloody knife onto the marble floor.

  The courtiers screamed.

  Rupert and his men ran toward the Chameleon.

  “Damn you!” The Chameleon ripped off his shirt as he ran for a window. He shifted into an eagle and soared through the opening.

  Brody shifted into an eagle and flew after him.

  “Dammit!” Rupert yelled.

  Brigitta fell to her knees beside her brother. He was trembling, his face pale and sweating. Blood seeped from his wound, coloring his golden tunic red.

  “Gunther.” Brigitta placed her hands over his wound to try to stop the blood.

  He hissed in a breath. “You were right. I should have trusted you.”

  “Don’t talk. Save your strength.”

  He grimaced. “I think I’m going to die.”

  “No, you won’t! I won’t let you.” Brigitta’s eyes filled with tears. “You saved me.”

  Gunther snorted. “Well, I had to, didn’t I? You’re my sister. And my heir.” He looked around. “Argus, did you hear that? She’s my heir!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus fell to his knees, sniffling.

  “What are you doing, man?” Rupert said. “Get a physician here fast!”

  “Oh.” Argus scrambled to his feet. “Yes, of course.” He scurried away, yelling orders.

  Rupert removed his cape and folded it up. Then he knelt on the other side of Gunther. “Here, let me.”

  Brigitta removed her hands and let Rupert press the folded wool against Gunther’s wound.

  “Damn you, Seven,” Gunther grumbled. “Why are you acting like you want to save me? You’ll just have to kill me later when you take the throne.”

  “You were wounded saving Brigitta.” He glanced at her and his eyes softened. “I can’t kill my wife’s brother.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “We’re not married yet.”

  “We will be.”

  She smiled. “Is that a proposal?”

  “No, this is. Will you marry me, Brigitta, and be my queen?”

  She nodded as more tears flowed. “I love you, Rupert. I’m so sorry that I was fooled by the shifter. He looked just like you, and I—”

  “I figured something like that happened.” He leaned toward her. “Don’t cry. I knew you could never betray me.”

  She sniffed. “You believed in me. You trusted me. Thank you.”

  “I think I’m going to puke,” Gunther muttered.

  “Oh.” Brigitta wiped her bloody hands on her skirt. “Should I find a bowl for you?”

  Gunther snorted, then coughed up some blood.

  Brigitta used her skirt to wipe the blood from his mouth. “Stay with me, brother dearest.”

  He gave her pained smile. “I know I’ve been an ass. When Father sent me off as a hostage, I felt so helpless. That’s when I decided I would do whatever it took to get all the power. I thought it was the only way to be safe. But it only left me all alone.”

  “Save your strength,” Brigitta urged him.

  He coughed again. “I know I’m going to die.” He turned his head toward Rupert. “She’s my dearest sister, you bastard. You had better be a good husband to her.”

  “I will, Your Majesty.”

  Gunther winced. “And you had better be a good king.”

  Brigitta gasped and glanced at Rupert’s surprised expression.

  Rupert bowed his head. “I will do my best, Your Majesty.”

  Gunther snorted, then reached a trembling hand to the crown on his head. “Take i
t, you bastard.”

  Rupert wiped the blood from his hands, then accepted the crown. “This was my father’s.”

  “Hurry up. Put it on and get married,” Gunther grumbled. “I want to see the future of my kingdom.”

  Rupert stood and placed the crown on his head.

  Stefan and the seamen cheered.

  Lord Argus knelt beside the king to put pressure on the wound. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. The physician is on his way.”

  Rupert led Brigitta toward the dais.

  “My lady.” Stefan approached her. “Where is Fallyn? She should be here.”

  “Oh.” Sister Fallyn and Bjornfrid! “Mador was keeping her prisoner in order to force me to marry him. She should be somewhere close to his rooms.”

  Stefan nodded. “I’ll find her.” He took half the seamen, and they dashed from the room.

  Brigitta smiled, knowing that soon Rupert would be reunited with his brother.

  Rupert squeezed her hand. “Let’s get married.”

  She nodded. She was getting married. To the right man. Her pirate and Wind Sorcerer.

  Father Bran looked them over. “So you two want to get married?”

  “Yes,” they both replied, then smiled at each other.

  “In the name of the Holy Light, I pronounce you husband and wife,” Father Bran said.

  Brigitta’s smile faded. “That was it?”

  The priest gave her a sad look. “We didn’t have much time.” He glanced over at Gunther.

  Brigitta turned. One look at her brother’s glassy eyes, and she knew he was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” Rupert said. “We’ll give him a funeral befitting a king.”

  Lord Argus rose to his feet. “The king is dead. Long live the king!”

  Brigitta exchanged a look with Rupert. He’d done it. He’d taken the throne, but he hadn’t sought vengeance against her brother. Her husband was an honorable man.

  The courtiers bowed and curtsied, while the remaining seamen cheered. Brigitta started a curtsy, but Rupert pulled her into his arms.

  “Come here.” He kissed her, then whispered in her ear. “I have some business to take care of, but I’ll see you this evening in your bedchamber.”

  “Our bedchamber.”

  He smiled. “I’m going to like being married.”

  “Brigitta!” Sister Fallyn rushed into the Great Hall.