“How dare you…” Cassandra gasped then cried out, her face cringing in agony. Victor simply watched as she grabbed her stomach. A small pool of liquid formed beneath the edge of her gown. “Not now, please not now,” she whispered.
“Cassie, what is wrong?”
Cassandra lowered herself to her knees, the pain in her womb piercing every nerve in her body. “The baby. He is coming.”
* * * *
The roaring fire and the flickering candles outlined the nine black silhouettes that hovered over the bed. Cassandra looked at each of the eight commanders and Gorgon himself as they waited impatiently for the birth of her child.
Her eyes begged for comfort in her distress. None of them, not even the man who had been her lover, offered any. She turned her head from them as she brushed her hair away, her face and the silken strands soaked with the sweat of childbirth.
The army physician touched her knee. “Your majesty, on the count of three, you need to push,” he urged softly. “One, two, three.”
Cassandra pushed herself up, the agony of labor ravaging her body as she obeyed the doctor’s orders. She leaned on her elbows as she threw her head back panting. “Good, good. Again. One, two, three.”
Cassandra lifted again as she pushed with all her strength. She obeyed the gentle man’s orders repeatedly, until she heard the soft cries of her child.
“It is a boy,” the physician announced, severing the cord between mother and child, wrapping the baby in a ragged cloth. Cassandra weakly looked up at Victor. She held her breath as she witnessed the proud smile on his face.
“My lord,” the physician began as he cradled the boy in his hands.
“What is it?” Gorgon demanded.
“This child has black hair. Thick, black hair.”
“And I have never seen a mark like that on anyone,” another commander remarked.
“Let me see.” Victor strode to the foot of the bed. He glared at the mewling infant and then at the child’s weak, exhausted mother. “I have,” he growled as he locked eyes with Cassandra. “Matthew bears one on his shoulder.”
Gorgon stared at the baby for a moment. “Kill it. Slit its throat.”
“My lord,” the physician protested.
Gorgon silenced him by raising his hand. “He is the Prince of Savon. That is evident. Kill him. I want no heirs.”
Victor withdrew his dagger and approached the physician to take the baby with his other hand. Cassandra sat up in panic. Whispering inaudibly, she reached out her arms, levitating her son into the night air and directing him into her grasp. She clenched him to her breast, trembling as Victor approached her.
“Give me the child,” he ordered.
“No. I will not let you kill him,” Cassandra whimpered.
“Give me the child,” Victor repeated louder.
“He is my baby. Please, I will not let you kill him.”
“Give me the child!”
“He is my baby,” Cassandra sobbed.
Victor grabbed her arm, shaking her violently. She looked up to him then closed her eyes. From her lips flowed a chant from deep inside her memory. As she uttered the words, a cascade of golden sparks flooded through the chamber window. Victor turned to see the spectacle. He spun back towards Cassandra. “Stop now, Cassie!” he commanded.
Victor reached for the baby, his hand slipping through the child as it disappeared into a cloud of gold. As the sparks dissipated, the boy was gone. Victor reared back his arm and brought his fist across Cassandra’s face with all the force in his body. She fell into the pillows, grasping her face as she buried her sobs.
“Victor,” Gorgon chided, “We will find the child.”
“Not unless you can reach the heavens, my lord.” Victor spun on his toe and stormed from the room. Gorgon, the physician, and the commanders followed behind him, locking the door and leaving Cassandra in her misery.
The exhaustion of childbirth quickly overtook Cassandra. Sunlight invaded her senses as she drifted awake. She kicked free the sheets that had clung to her legs, adhered by dry sweat and the fluids of childbirth. Her face throbbed unmercifully from the blow dealt by Victor. She struggled her eyes open as she clung to her pillow.
Victor sat slumped in a chair facing her, his cold expression hatefully waiting for her to wake. He leaned over his knees toward her. “You lied to me. You betrayed me,” he accused.
“How so?” Cassandra whispered.
“You belonged to me. You gave yourself to me. You agreed to be my bride.”
“Then you gave me over to Gorgon. I died. You had no intention to marry me.”
“Yes I did. Once the war was over. I fully intended to make you my wife.”
“You did not love me. I was only a prize to win.” Victor glared at her silently. Cassandra continued, “I betrayed you? What about your betrayal to me? Moreover, what about your betrayal to Matthew? He treated you as a brother. He loved you. You could not even keep your vows to him?”
Victor stood as he clenched his hands to his hips. “I see you did. You served and obeyed him faithfully. Right into his bed.”
Cassandra weakly pushed herself to her elbow. “I threw my vows off also to take on new ones. Now, I no longer honor and serve, protect and obey my king. I love and cherish my husband. And he me.”
The thought of Matthew and Cassandra’s union must have incensed Victor. He raised his hand to strike Cassandra again. She buried herself in the pillow, cringing from the possible blow. Instead, he dropped his hand to his side. “I prepared you a bath. I also brought you a gown from the nearby village. Bathe and dress. It is nearly time for me to go.”
Victor turned on his toe, storming out the door and slamming it behind him. Cassandra sighed into the pillow of down as she fought tears of hopelessness.
Chapter Fifteen
Cassandra gazed out the window as she tied her hair back with the ribbon left with the crème gown she was meant to wear. She avoided the brass mirror that hung from the wall next to the window. The darkening of the skin on her cheek horrified her. She glanced up, a sad sorrowful smile appearing on her face.
Her son now floated in the heavens as a star. In the evening, she could perform the counter spell and hold him in her arms again. Of course, that would be if the child in such a weak, infant state could survive the spell. She thought of how much he looked like his father, her heart and body suddenly aching for Matthew. She wanted to be held, she wanted to be kissed just once more. She did not even wish for a rescue…just for him.
Cassandra did not turn as she heard the door open and close. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.
“I have always loved your hair tied back like this. You look so innocent, so feminine,” Victor breathed. He buried his lips in the bare curve between her neck and shoulder. Cassandra pulled away, taking a step from his grasp. “I hope the dress is to your satisfaction,” he growled in irritation.
“It is lovely. Thank you,” Cassandra replied softly.
Victor grasped her hips, pulling her body against his. He crooned over her shoulder. “I know your skin is accustomed to silk. Once I am lord, have my castle, and you prove to me to be a good obedient wife, then I will swaddle your body in silk again.”
Cassandra swallowed back her sudden tears, her eyes fixed on the distant towers of the palace. Victor continued, “I told you Matthew is not coming. He is cowering under his throne, wondering what to do. He will be easy prey. I will come back and take you home. Our home.”
Victor grasped Cassandra harder, digging his fingers into her hipbones, listening to her pain-filled gasp. “And if I ever see that black haired little wretch again,” he hissed into her ear, “I will slit his throat and gut him like a pig. The only babes that will suckle at your breast will be the ones I sire for you. Heaven knows he will not have a father to run to.”
Cassandra spun around in his arms as tears streamed from her eyes. “Please, do not kill Matthew, please? I will do anything. I will go anywhere. But plea
se spare his life. Please?”
Victor chuckled at her. “And how do I make you mine if you still by law belong to another man? No, Cassie. I have wanted this too long.”
“Then,” Cassandra took a step out of his arms, “I will be dead by sunset.”
“You may.” Victor drew her close again, pressing her body against his. “There is only one room in this fortress with no windows. I do not trust your magic, so I put a little help in there to assure me you will not escape.” He beamed at her with an evil smile. “You better be on your knees praying for my return before the nightshade takes your life.”
Cassandra gasped as Victor took her arm. “It is time to go, Cassie.”
Cassandra followed behind Victor defeated, her world falling apart at her feet. She looked up as she heard a trumpet blast. Victor dragged her back to the window and opened it. He shouted to a soldier scurrying across the fortress wall, “What is happening?”
“We are under attack,” the soldier shouted back.
“By who?” Victor asked incredulously.
“The royal army, sir.”
Victor paused. “Who is leading them?”
“King Matthew himself, sir.” The soldier fled to take his place.
Cassandra pulled from Victor's grasp as he stared at her dumbfounded. “He came for me. He did come for me.”
“He will not find you.” Victor grabbed Cassandra’s wrist hard as he dragged her from the room. She struggled against his iron grasp as she stumbled behind him. He led her down one staircase after another, finding them occupied by soldiers engaged in battle. He broke into a run for the last staircase, mercilessly forcing her into a trot behind him.
He readjusted his grasp on her as he pulled her down the spiral stairs. “Once we reach the bottom, we will be in the stable yard,” Victor panted. “We will mount and escape before anyone can find—”
Victor stopped suddenly, his strong frame jarred a little as Cassandra collided into him. He stared at the gleaming tip of the sword then at the smoldering, dark eyes of the man who held it. The blade illuminated the walls of the staircase in a soft, white glow brighter than the candles perched in their brass sconces.
“Ah, look. All three of us reunited,” Victor sneered at the man he knew as his best friend.
“Give me my wife,” Matthew demanded.
“Really, Matthew? You would let a woman come between us?”
Matthew swung his weapon, severing a candle in half. “The woman I love, the woman who possesses my body and soul, the only thing I need in the entire universe? Yes. I would run you through in a heartbeat.”
Matthew looked up at Cassandra. His eyes widened in panic as he saw the bruising and her much smaller frame.
“He is safe, Matthew. He is safe,” Cassandra assured. Matthew nodded as worry overcame his face. He turned his hateful glare back to Victor.
Victor grasped Cassandra to him. “He will not be once I get my hands on him.”
Matthew gripped his sword, swinging it towards Victor. Victor leapt back as he drew his own and struck back. Cassandra retreated a few steps above, cowering as she watched Matthew and Victor lock stares as they plotted their tactical advantage.
Without warning, the two men simultaneously struck out at each other. Anger and hate flowed through their veins into the hands that controlled their swords. The sound of clashing metal echoed through the softly lit stairway, pounding fear into Cassandra's heart. She backed up a step at a time as the heated battle raged on.
Matthew lashed out with all his might, knocking Victor away. Victor regained his stance and struck in return. He stretched back and drove his sword into the soft flesh of Matthew's stomach. Matthew dropped his sword as he clenched his abdomen, his shirt growing damp with his own blood. Victor laughed as he grasped Cassandra's arm. Her cries rang out.
“Always been a little slow, my friend,” Victor jeered. “Now, if you will excuse us.”
Cassandra's eyes filled with rage. She struck Victor with her small fists as she struggled. “Let me go, you fiend! Let me go!”
Victor turned towards her then raised his fist and drove it across her face. She fell to the stairs behind her, her head colliding against the edge of a stone step. “Bitch,” Victor spat. “I will teach you obedience or kill you in the process.”
Cassandra struggled to push herself up on her hands. She collapsed, almost losing consciousness as a trail of blood flowed from the gash on her forehead.
“Bastard,” Matthew growled as he knelt to clench the handle of his sword. He rose, brandishing it towards Victor, the blade radiating like the sun. “No man treats the woman I love in such a manner and lives.”
Matthew mercilessly hacked at Victor, causing the blond commander to lose ground quickly. He embedded his blade into Victor's stomach and drove it through to the hilt. Victor fell back on the stairs as Matthew withdrew the weapon. Matthew dropped the sword as he crumpled to a heap on the ground.
Cassandra rushed past Victor's limp body to Matthew's side. He touched her beaten face gently, tenderly stroking her cheek. She pressed her hand over his wound then closed her eyes. She pulled away and turned her hand over. Her fingers were covered in blood.
“No. This cannot be.” Cassandra laid her hand frantically against Matthew’s flesh again and once again found it futile.
He caught her hand in his. “Stop, Cassa,” Matthew whispered as he gazed into her eyes.
“I have to. I have to, or you will…” Cassandra’s words died on her lips.
“I have what I want,” Matthew breathed. “I found you, my love.”
Cassandra buried her face against his shoulder, her body rising in sudden sobs. He held her tight.
“Cassa, do not cry. Please,” Matthew begged.
Cassandra raised her head weakly and pressed her lips against his. She bolted upright as she heard approaching footsteps. She picked up Matthew’s sword and clumsily raised it in protection.
“No, Cassa,” he demanded. “They will kill you.”
Cassandra stared ahead as she brandished the weapon. She clenched the hilt tighter to stop her hands from shaking. Gasping, she dropped the heavy instrument as the royal soldiers of Savon appeared. “He is hurt. Please help,” she pleaded.
The troops bowed in compliance as they dropped to their knees to tend to their king. They hoisted Matthew to their shoulders and carefully carried him down the stairs. Cassandra turned, glaring at Victor in repulsion. She did not move as a soldier approached her.
“Your majesty. You are bleeding,” the soldier stated softly.
Cassandra pulled her icy stare away as she slowly rose to her feet. She stopped and knelt down again, quickly scooping the blood red stone that had fallen from Victor's pocket into her hand. She flashed a final glare before standing once again and letting them lead her away.
* * * *
Cassandra floated her hand on the surface of the warm water then gently plunged it under. She listened carefully to the midwife chide the maids to leave her be. She had already suffered one loss, she heard the woman say. By the end of the day, she would suffer another.
The physician had examined her shortly after she had returned to the palace, after she had watched several officers and Joseph rush her husband into their bedchamber and bar the door from anyone's entry. The physician confirmed that she had given birth with no complications, leaving the entire household to assume that the prince had died at Gorgon's hand.
Cassandra sighed as she stared at the ceiling of the rose bedchamber. She cleared her throat then called, “Angelique.”
The door opened silently. “Yes, Cassandra?” Angelique asked timidly.
Cassandra rolled over in the tub, facing her. “Get Cook and go to my bedchamber. I want my crimson gown, my robe, my slippers, and my crown.”
Angelique shot her a puzzled look. “As you wish.” She closed the door behind her.
Cassandra grabbed the soap, lathering the bar before rubbing the suds over her skin and through her lon
g brown hair. She held her breath as she slipped under the water to rinse herself. She carefully stepped out and reached for the sheet, wrapping it around herself and gently drying her skin. As she finished, Cook and Angelique reappeared with her things.
They silently dressed Cassandra, neither of them willing to ask their queen of her plan. Angelique brushed Cassandra’s hair before braiding it and pinning them against her head. She then softly added the small, gold crown.
Cassandra stood and faced Angelique. “Dress,” she commanded. “As my lady-in-waiting, you will join me in court today. Hurry, and I will meet you in the throne room.”
“But Cassandra—”
“Go.”
Cassandra breezed from the bedchamber across the balcony to the stairs. She quickly dispersed the courtiers to change then slipped into the throne room. Gingerly, she sat on Matthew's throne, avoiding her own, newly hand-carved, one. She sighed bitterly. If I do not have to look at Matthew’s empty chair, I will not have to imagine life without him.
She did not look up as Angelique appeared dressed in her own gold and crème silk gown.
Within moments, Joseph stormed through the door. “Cassandra, what is the meaning of this? This is no time for games,” he hissed.
Cassandra stared at Joseph coolly. “The news of Matthew's injuries will spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom. The people will need to know that there is someone still to protect them, to hold the crown securely—someone who will rule them with love and fairness. Is that not my position now?”
Joseph remained silent. Cassandra stood and approached him. “And I would rather be here than sitting in that room going mad, wondering what is happening to my husband. So unless you are prepared to tell me something, then I suggest you let me perform my duty.”
Joseph bowed to her. “Yes, your majesty.” He rose to his feet and strode from the room. Cassandra slumped on the throne again as she fought tears.
Queen of Savon Page 18
