Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series

by Tove Foss Ford

  Everything settled, he turned the lamp down and shucked off his dressing gown, standing in the dark with his eyes closed.

  Are you there, he thought. Darling girl, Luntigré? Can you hear me? Do we really go on when we pass into spirit, as you used to say?

  He waited.

  There was a shifting in the air, almost as if the lightest summer breeze had come into a wintertime bedchamber at The Shadows. A sense of peace settled over him like a loving rainshower.

  I’ve found my great love, my darling, Hemmett thought. I knew it the moment I saw her again, after so many years. I knew then she’d always been in love with me – I saw it in her eyes. We spoke without saying a word. Was that how it was with you and Flori’s father? As if it was all settled without a word being said?

  Joy surrounded him, wrapped around him, curled into his heart.

  I’ll always love you, my beautiful moon tiger. I know now that never dies. I will be taking off your ring but my love for you will always be a part of me.

  And yes, you still bring me joy – and you always will.

  Filled with joy, wrapped in peace, Hemmett opened his eyes. By the light of the moonlit snow outside his window, he slid Luntigré’s ring from his wedding finger and placed it in the velvet case it had come in so many years before. He nestled it in a box of other small treasures, then lay down on his boyhood bed and fell into a deep, cleansing sleep.

  ***

  Hemmett rode through the winter woods toward the Dower House of the Spartz estate. It was not truly cold yet – at least to someone who had lived most of his life in Old Mordania. There was a pleasant bite to the air that made him feel clean and alive after years of living at the Palace.

  He was glad he’d sent a Rollig message to Menders for another week of leave. Being away from the rift between Katrin and Menders was a relief.

  He hated to admit that to himself, but it was true. He understood all that had led to Menders’ anger with her the night Borsen had, apparently, died and then returned to life. Menders had endured years of watching Katrin disintegrate. Desperation over Borsen’s approaching death had driven him beyond being able to control his temper. That didn’t mean Hemmett wanted to be around the aftermath.

  Hemmett loved Katrin and always would. His love for her was unconditional. He hated her bad days and her recent relapse into severe melancholia, but she was his other self. They were one. Nothing would change that.

  Some time ago, he had forced himself to read a great deal of information about melancholia that he requested from Franz. It had sickened him, because he was a practical man who wanted answers and solutions for problems. Apparently, there were none for melancholia. It was a horrible, insidious disease. It stole people away and made them into something pathetic and detestable.

  Hemmett reined the horse in for a breather. The snow was already getting deep in this part of the woods It would be better to take the road. After the horse had caught its breath, Hemmett guided it in that direction. Once they were moving along more easily in a well travelled rut, Hemmett let his mind wander again.

  He’d done a lot of thinking since Luntigré’s death and returning to Erdahn with Flori. By the time Katrin had been Queen for three years, Hemmett knew pretending to guard the Palace was going to drive him mad with boredom. He’d gone to see Commandant Komroff at the Mordanian Military Academy, where that excellent and patient man was still overseeing the education of Mordanian boys. Hemmett had been pleased when the Commandant offered him a teaching position there three mornings a week.

  Hemmett found teaching the boys a great deal of fun. He truly enjoyed being with them and seeing them progress. The Commandant had recently told him if he ever wanted to teach at the Academy full time, the position would be his. It was nice to know he had an alternative if things changed.

  Hemmett had known Menders for thirty years. They didn’t need to spell things out to each other. Menders was tired of being separated from Eiren and heartbroken by seeing Katrin a complete wreck. Things were going to start changing, soon. Hemmett approved. Anything would be better than the endless stagnation they were all suffering under.

  It had come as a complete surprise when Hemmett saw Lorein Spartz at the reception following his parents’ funeral. He had not seen Lorein in years, as the time they’d all spent abroad and then Katrin’s becoming Queen had kept him away from The Shadows.

  Lorein was now a stunning woman, tall, distinguished and achingly beautiful. After five minutes of talking to her, Hemmett knew her soul and spirit matched her looks. After ten minutes of talking to her, Hemmett was helplessly in love. Lorein made no secret of the fact that she felt the same way, though she was elegant and reserved, as became a lady attending a funeral reception.

  The next day the invitation came, welcoming him to visit her at the Dower House on her mother’s estate, which was now her home. Having returned from her long tour, she’d developed a taste for being on her own and had no desire to return to her girlhood room and hang about her parents’ house all day being a little ray of sunshine.

  Lorein taught at Eiren’s school and helped her mother with the estate business. She went on sick calls with Doctor Franz when he was in residence at The Shadows and gave music lessons to several talented children on her mother’s estate, as well as to the orphans at The Shadows’ Home for Children. On the rare occasions when she wasn’t at the Dower House, she was at her parents’ townhouse in Erdahn, where she had a circle of friends and enjoyed what cultural benefits Erdahn had to offer.

  Hemmett had been gobsmacked when he’d realised that he was alone with Lorein in the Dower House, without a chaperone. She was calm and collected and made it clear that she was her own person and quite grown up. Within minutes she’d set him completely at ease. Within an hour they were talking about spending the rest of their lives together.

  Lorein did admit that if he hadn’t turned up at The Shadows when he had, she would have been forced to start calling on him in Erdahn. Hemmett laughed uproariously at the idea of Lorein, behatted and wearing an immaculate suit, knocking genteely on the huge iron gates of The Palace and asking to see Hemmett Greinholz, passing a calling card between the bars. Lorein joined in and he’d held his arms out to her – and she’d gone into them.

  He’d stayed the night and had the pleasure of helping her cook breakfast and of lingering over innumerable cups of coffee as they talked.

  They talked about Katrin and Luntigré – and about Flori. Hemmett described her calm and joyous reaction to the news that he’d found his great love.

  “She’s a lovely girl,” Lorein said firmly. “I had heard you had a daughter and I was so bowled over when I spoke with her at the reception – she’s so bright and full of life. I’m glad she wants to stay with us and that I will have a readymade daughter. Have no fear of a wicked stepmother spoiling your lives.”

  Hemmett smiled at her. He couldn’t imagine it.

  “Well then, all secrets are out, you don’t mind living with me in Erdahn or if I end up a teacher at the Military Academy. Do you love me, my Firefly?”

  “Completely. Home is where you are, Hemmett. Now, what would you like to have first, a boy or a girl?” Lorein poured another cup of coffee for him.

  “Ah, you’ve found a way to guarantee one or the other?” Hemmett laughed.

  “Just curious, since we’ve decided to go ahead with the project,” Lorein grinned back.

  “Not that it really matters – but a boy first, I think. I’d like a girl too. One of each,” Hemmett said, as if he was giving an order in a restaurant. He stroked back a lock of her incredible white-blonde hair, marvelling at the fineness of it.

  “Good, I want a little boy too,” Lorein smiled.

  “When shall we get married?” Hemmett asked. There had been no proposal, just a mutual admission that they wanted to be together.

  “Why not today?”

  He blinked. “Where?” he asked.

  “The Temple of Galanth in Artrim will do wedd
ings at no notice – they make out the licenses and all.”

  “Checked up on that, did you?” Hemmett asked, looking at her out of the corners of his eyes, a smile playing around his mouth.

  “Of course. Any objections?”

  “Not at all. But – would there be any problem for your parents?” Hemmett asked, suddenly feeling cold. He hadn’t given it a thought because Lorein was so independent, but he was common born. Her parents, though they were wonderful people, might just kick.

  “My mother will jump up and click her heels with glee that I’ve finally gotten you,” Lorein chortled. “She’s lived with my unrequited love for the dashing Captain Greinholz since I was tiny!”

  “I wasn’t a Captain then!” Hemmett howled, a vision of Reisa Spartz hitching up her elegant satin skirts, jumping and clicking her heels hitting him right on his funny bone. “I was a boy too big for his age with a head shaped like a potato!”

  “Lovemaking brings out the nitpicking side of you,” Lorein laughed. Then she sobered.

  “What about your people?” she asked. “Katrin and Menders, and everyone else?”

  “Everyone will be pleased. And I just remembered something. I’m a Baronet – Katrin made me one years back when she was angry about Menders’ Men thinking I was a weakling. So I am worthy to be marrying you, m’lady.”

  Lorein stood up, laughing delightedly and curtsied to him in her dressing gown. It gave him ample opportunity to get hold of her and sit her on his knee.

  So they were married that day, after buying him a fresh shirt that was a bit too short in the arms and wedding rings for them both.

  Now Hemmett saw the lights of the Dower House ahead of him. The horse tossed his head a bit, knowing he was nearing his stable. Hemmett had borrowed him to ride over to The Shadows to send a Rollig message to Menders that he would return the following week. He had included nothing about his marriage. A second message went to Flori, letting her know about the runaway match with an admonition that it was secret for now.

  Lorein’s parents were delighted with their daughter’s choice and had been truly welcoming, raining blessings on them joyfully and excitedly discussing possible wedding gifts. With the final worry that they might object to his common birth set aside, Hemmett had a peaceful feeling of all being well.

  Lorein’s stepfather popped out of the stable door ahead and waved, so Hemmett dismounted in front of the Dower House. He gave the horse a gentle slap on the rump, which sent it toward its owner, eager to have its oats and to be bedded down for the night. Hemmett waved at his father-in-law and opened the door of the Dower House to the smell of dinner cooking and the warm glow of firelight in the lounge.

  Home.

  Home is where you are, Lorein.

  Hemmett stepped over the doorsill and closed the door behind him.

  The Palace, Erdahn, Mordania

  13

  A Terrible High-Pitched Whine

  D

  earest Little Bird,

  As I feared, there has been no change for the better in Katrin. I believe that there is a great deal of self-loathing because of her failure to come to Lucen and Zelia’s funeral and for failing to go to Borsen when he was sick. As usual, she is trying to avoid thinking about it by drinking. She is not bathing or changing and spends her days sleeping and her nights up wandering around and drinking. All the progress that was made over the last two years seems to be lost.

  I have received information about a new weapon developed by the military. Of course, they are trying to keep it secret, but my sources have let me know it is an explosive of unparalleled power and intensity. This is of great concern, because war with Artreya is once again threatening. If this weapon works upon testing, the war-mad lunatics in the military will use it, regardless of the consequences.

  There is to be a test of this bomb in a few days. It is my intention to force Katrin to go and see it, dragging her if need be. I hope the gravity of the situation will become clear to her and perhaps push her toward taking responsibility for herself and her position.

  Should she remain indifferent, I am going to resign. I’ll dismantle my espionage network and come home. I will do my best to get Katrin to abdicate if this is the case, and get her to come home with me. Even if she refuses, I am going to hold fast. It is pointless going on like this.

  The damage done to my relationship with Katrin is immense, as is the damage she’s done to herself. That things would ever come to such a pass is heartbreaking for me to contemplate.

  I looked in on Borsen on my way back. He is better, making gains every day. Very impatient to be able to eat regular food again, but Franz says there is no rushing the healing process, that he must stay on a soft diet because of the damage the putrid fever did to his gut. For the most part, he is cheerful enough, snugged up in bed with his sketchbooks and pencils. Stevahn is overjoyed, of course, and comes dashing down the street from the bank several times a day to look in on him. I’m glad they have each other. I only hope that one day, Katrin might find such devotion. Hemmett as well.

  I will write to you after getting Katrin out to see the test. I will manage it if I have to drag her by her feet.

  Loving you,

  M

  ***

  Katrin woke to insistent shaking. She worked her eyes open, wincing at the light from the bedside lamp.

  It was Menders shaking her.

  “It’s time to get up,” he said heartily. “You have to go and see something today.”

  Katrin stared at him as if he’d gone mad.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she answered slowly.

  “Yes, you are. There’s a test of a new weapon today. The Queen is to attend,” Menders countered.

  Katrin dragged the covers up over her head. Menders dragged them back down.

  “We can do this easily or the hard way,” he said quietly, looking at her over his glasses. “You are going to go to see this demonstration. You can walk out of here decorously or I can drag you every inch of the way. You don’t have a choice. You’ve shown that you’re incapable of making choices, so I’m taking choice out of it. Now, get out of that bed, have some breakfast and I’ll help you get into the dress.”

  “Menders!”

  “Don’t make me resort to dragging you around,” he said firmly. “I am going to stop at nothing to make you go, my dear. It would be so much easier for both of us if you would come along without forcing me into any drama.”

  Shaking all over, Katrin got out of bed. She felt ill and told Menders so.

  “Probably the wine you drank last night,” he answered. “Eat something. It will help.” He pointed to the table, where a breakfast tray was waiting. He was already dressed and ready for the day.

  Katrin managed to gnaw some toast and swallow a cup of coffee. Then she shivered and shuddered while getting into the horrible formal gown and putting on the severe red wig, grotesque makeup and false vampire teeth. Menders proffered her furs and helped her into them.

  At the doorway to her suite, she balked. Sunny whined, having been told to stay in the suite.

  “Don’t make me drag you,” Menders said evenly. “I will. I’ll think nothing of making the spectacle of the Queen of Mordania being forced into a carriage. Now come along.”

  Katrin found herself going down the stairs. She tried twice to turn around and retreat, but Menders held onto her arm and hauled her steadily downward.

  At the fourth-floor landing, she stopped. This was the place where the fear always caught her, paralyzing her into utter helplessness.

  Menders pulled her downwards, but she held tight to the handrail, staring at the stairs descending before her. Her breathing became ragged and tight. Her vision darkened.

  Menders whipped off his glasses and looked up at her, standing frozen on the step above him, sweat bubbling up through her makeup and pouring down her face.

  “Think, and tell me what is frightening you!” he commanded, his white eyes glowing in the gloom of the Stairwel
l.

  “I don’t know!” she moaned. “I don’t know, but I can’t go down from here. I can’t! I can’t!”

  “Katrin! Listen to me. Breathe, as Kaymar taught you. Do as I say!”

  She forced her diaphragm down, stopping the shuddering under her ribcage.

  “Now, look around. What is it that frightens you? There has to be a reason for this,” Menders said, his voice even and forceful.

  She gasped and looked around, seeing nothing, blinded by fear.

  “Focus, Katrin. I know you can. Remember the day I took you to the fair. Remember it!”

  The images came to her instantly – the day of the fair, a high point in her childhood, where she and Menders had dressed as tenant farmers and gone incognito to a tawdry little roadside fair. To a little girl who had never traveled from The Shadows, it had been glamorous and exciting.

  She saw herself riding the carousel with Kaymar standing beside her bobbing wooden horse. She saw Menders buying her every taffy apple, fried pie and sausage in a bun she asked for. She saw Doctor Franz escorting not one, but two pretty ladies – she remembered the piles and piles of cheap, gaudy jewelry and toys that the fifteen Menders’ Men who had been there in disguise had won at the various games and given to her. They had become her pirate treasure, a prop for many happy hours of playing with Hemmett.

  She smiled, drew a deep breath and looked up. She saw what she had never consciously seen before.

  Her hand, almost of its own volition, rose slowly and pointed.

  A hook – ancient, its blackened surface scabbed with rust. A hook with a cruel, curling point.

  A hook like the ones she had been suspended from. The morning sun came through the fogged windows and touched it.

  Menders followed her pointing finger. She could hear him gasp.