I hurried to the queen mother’s room. It wasn’t locked. My eyes went to her laying still on the bed. Poor woman. I checked her breathing. It was normal. I shook her shoulder, but she didn’t wake up. The oracle must have given her powerful sedatives.
There was no need to wake her up yet. I went to search for charcoal.
The hearth was cold with chunks of partially burned wood on top. I carefully dug through the ashes until I found buried pieces of charcoal.
“What are you doing?” a voice asked sharply from behind me.
I looked over my shoulder to find a woman studying me suspiciously with narrowed green eyes and pinched lips. I palmed the pieces and stood to face her. She wore a navy blue kirtle with a white chemise, matching apron, and bonnet over brown hair pulled severely back.
“I was looking for charcoal,” I said.
She frowned, studying me. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“You’re a child, yet the prince said you’d be taking care of the queen mother for a few days.”
“That’s correct. About taking care of the queen mother, that is. But I’m not a child.”
“In the islanders’ years, you are a child.” She entered the room, her lips relaxing. “Whenever my lady has a breakdown and the oracle gives her a calming brew, she sleeps for several days.”
“I don’t have several days.”
She glanced my way. “Going somewhere?”
“Planning a grand escape,” I wanted to say. “I promised to have her up and about in three days,” I said instead.
“That’s very ambitious of you, lass, but it’s not going to happen. She drinks the brew and sleeps for days. It’s been like that for years, so there’s nothing you can do for her.”
She opened a chest, removed a light wrap, and went to the bed to cover the sleeping woman.
“Maybe we can help her sleep less,” I said, and she glanced at me, interest in her eyes.
“How?” she asked.
I had to know whose side she was on first before discussing anything with her. “The oracle will not be allowed to see her as I work with her.”
A chuckle escaped the woman. “Is that so? She’s not going to like that.”
I still couldn’t tell whose side she was on. “Tully didn’t tell you?”
“No, but the prince told me to never leave you alone with the queen mother.”
“You found me alone with her,” I shot back. “Are you going to report me?”
She smiled, crooked lower teeth showing. “No, lass. How do we make my lady sleep less?”
Maybe I could trust her. A little.
“I need a pestle and mortar, water or juice, and a cup.”
I looked around and noticed the pitcher of the sweetened drink Storm’s mother had given me earlier. Since I wasn’t knocked out, I assumed it was not laced with the oracle’s poison.
“We could use that drink.” I waved at the pitcher. “But I still need a pestle and mortar.”
“I’ll get whatever you need if it means helping my lady, but you must leave the room while I’m gone in case the girl returns and finds you in here. She is the apprentice of the oracle.”
“And you?”
“I came with the queen mother from Wicklow, her village back in the east. I knew her as a child, way before all this.”
She waved to indicate the room. Or maybe she meant the palace.
“And I’ve never left her side. My name is Gwynevere, but you can call me Gwyn.”
“I’m Lexi, short for Alexandria.”
She studied me. “Were you Storm’s lass?”
I nodded, my throat tightening.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Lexi. You don’t deserve this.” She shook her head without elaborating, but I could tell she knew what was in store for me. “Where are your shoes?”
I looked down at my bare feet and grimaced.
“In my cell. I borrowed them from Captain Ren’s sister, but they’re a little snug and uncomfortable. They are court shoes with dainty heels while I prefer boots.”
Gwyn went to the other end of the room, reached inside a chest, and removed a pair of ankle boots.
“Those are the queen mother’s. See if they fit.”
I put the pieces of charcoal on the table and tried on the boots. The leather was soft. They were a little big, but I didn’t mind. They were comfortable.
“They’re perfect,” I said. “Thanks, Gwyn.”
“My lady won’t miss them. There’s more in there and clothes in the other one.” She pointed at another chest. “I’ll select a few for you. Wait outside the door and don’t let Fina come near my lady while I’m gone. The oracle hates coming up here, so she often sends Fina with the elixir, and she reports everything back to the oracle.”
Gwyn just gained my trust.
~*~
After she left, footsteps and voices drew closer, and two guards appeared. Great. Tweedledee and Tweedledum were back again. I was surprised when they didn’t say anything. I realized why when the oracle swept into the room, a girl following her with a pitcher of something. Probably more poisoned brew.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the oracle snarled.
“What do you mean?” I asked, faking ignorance.
“You think you can do better than I can? That you can help that crazy woman?”
“Hell, yeah,” I wanted to tell her, but the fury in her eyes said she could kick my ass from here to Vaarda and back. I glanced at the guards and the maid. I didn’t want to say anything in their presence that could potentially go back to Prince Creep.
“Ignore them. Fina, go check on the queen mother and give her more of her tonic. You two”—she pointed at the guards—“wait downstairs.”
They hesitated.
“Obey me, or I’ll have you locked up in the dungeons,” the oracle snapped.
The two guards scampered away from the tower. Damn cowards. Fina tried to walk past me, but I blocked her path.
“You’re not giving her anything to drink unless I say so. And no, Oracle, I didn’t say I could treat her. All I can do is ease her suffering. Prince Tully believes I can do it.”
“You’re lying. What did you tell him? The last time I was here, he wanted you in his bedchamber.”
“He doesn’t like the way I taste.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
Threw up in my mouth. I grinned. “Different tastes for different people.”
“What exactly do you plan to do?” the oracle asked, inching closer. “Fina, take the drink into the room.”
“Fina, don’t,” I shot back. “No one is giving her anything except me. Those are the prince’s orders. As for my plan, I hope to help her by talking to her. Just talking.”
The oracle harrumphed. “Stupid Tuh’ren. Get out of my way.”
“I can’t.”
I hoped she didn’t push me out of the way. She was taller and mean-looking, not to mention older. With the guards gone, I wouldn’t be surprised if she crushed my skull for shits and giggles. Even as the thoughts crossed my head, she snarled and reached for me with her boney fingers. I grabbed her wrists.
“Don’t mess with me, lady.” My voice rose with each word. “I’ve been kidnapped, dragged through a sewer, forced to watch the man I’m supposed to love sliced up like a fucking turkey, and kissed by his nauseating twin brother in the last three days. If you want a piece of me, bring it.” My grip tightened.
My reaction blindsided her, and she stopped struggling.
“You are crazy,” she said with a sneer.
“Call it what you want. I’m done playing victim.”
“You don’t scare me. Fina, hit her,” she screeched.
The maid disappeared from my periphery, and every second that passed I expected the pitcher to connect with my skull.
“You hit me, Fina, and I will gut you.”
“That’s enough!” a familiar authoritative voice filled the room. Lord Conyngh
am pushed open the gate and entered the room.
Two men followed him, one carrying thick folded blankets and the other firewood. The two sniffling guards the oracle had sent downstairs came in the rear, their faces red.
“I asked her to allow me to see the queen mother, and she refused,” the oracle tattled, breathing hard.
Asked, my ass. I let her go with a push and stepped back.
Lord Conyngham cocked an eyebrow at me, and I knew he was going to side with the oracle. My hatred for him shot up.
“Tully put me in charge of the queen mother, so I get to decide who sees her. She doesn’t.” I pointed at the oracle. “And neither does she.” I jabbed a finger in Fina’s direction. “Gwyn and I are the only ones allowed near her.”
Silence followed while Lord Conyngham and I locked gazes. His expression was hard to read, but I knew mine dared him to call me a liar. Tully never said I could decide who visited his mother.
“She is right, Oracle,” Lord Conyngham said. “You should not have dismissed the guards or insisted on ignoring the prince’s orders. Please, leave.”
The woman’s face turned red while I gawked at Lord Conyngham. While the oracle sputtered with indignation, he directed his people to my cell.
“They’ll start a fire to heat up your room, Lexi.” He turned to look at the oracle. “Do leave your set of keys behind, Oracle. I don’t want to come back here to find you ignoring Tully’s orders again.”
“How does this concern you, my lord?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you, but if you must know, I don’t trust the Tuh’ren either and plan to keep an eye on her. I may have to protect Tully from her machinations. And the queen mother is still much loved by the people even if they never see her.”
His response didn’t reassure the oracle. She looked even more furious as she handed him the keys. Fina turned to follow her when she started for the gate.
“I’ll take the pitcher,” I said.
“No,” the oracle barked and snatched the drink from the girl’s hand. She pushed the gate open and started for the stairs, almost bumping into Gwyn who was coming up. “Out of my way, you simpleton.”
The older woman joined us, her brow furrowed. “What happened?”
“I stood guard like you said and refused to let her see Storm’s mother,” I said, then realized how I’d referred to the woman. “I mean, the queen mother.”
Gwyn had gone pale. “You stopped her? How?”
“She tried to push me out of the way, and I fought back.” I studied the patches of black on the stone floor. “She made me drop my charcoal. I hope I can find more. Thanks for these,” I added, taking the pestle and mortar.
“What are those for?” Lord Conyngham asked.
I’d forgotten he was still around.
“To crush charcoal into a fine powder and make a drink for Storm’s mother.” I turned and headed for her room.
“I’d never heard of anyone being treated with charcoal before,” Gwyn said behind me.
“I have,” Lord Conyngham said and left it at that.
At least he didn’t mention what charcoal was used for.
I searched the ashes for some useable pieces and got lucky, but they were puny. I put them in the mortar and got busy. Gwyn had followed me, while Lord Conyngham stayed by the entrance and stared at me with a peculiar expression. I was still surprised he’d supported me instead of the oracle.
“Do you know what you’re implying?” he asked.
Yes, I wanted to retort, but then I’d have to explain why. I didn’t dare tell him or anyone that Storm’s mother had been coherent earlier. It was why I believed that pinched-face bitch had been drugging her.
“I’m eliminating all possibilities, that’s all,” I said, and his lips twitched. I didn’t see what was funny. I was still pissed he’d watched my humiliation at the hand of Tully and did nothing. Giving him a stay-away-from me glare, I went back to grinding the charcoal into a fine powder.
I looked around the queen mother’s cell. And yes, I dared to call it a cell despite the colorful green and gold canopy around the large bed, the matching beddings and pillows, the rug on the floor, and wall coverings. Compared to the opulence downstairs, the stone walls and floor of the tower were drab. The windows were high up and narrow, so she had no view to brag about or enough light coming inside. Gwyn or someone had tried to make it cheerful and added fresh flowers in a vase and a lacey tablecloth, but it was still dark and dingy.
I finished grinding the charcoal, added the sweet drink, and stirred. Once the larger pieces settled at the bottom of the mortar, I decanted the top layer. Storm’s mother was still out cold.
“Can you open her mouth so I can feed her a spoonful at a time?” I asked Gwyn.
“It’s going to take a lot more than that to make her drink, lass. I’ve had to feed her the oracle’s brew when she’s out, and the only way is to briefly pinch her nose so she breathes through her mouth. While her mouth is open, you give her the medicine.”
“Won’t she choke?”
“A few sputters here and there, but she’ll swallow most of it.”
Storm’s mother might be around my height, but she was frail. So Gwyn, who was tall and big-boned, lifted her easily and sat with her on a chair.
It took forever to feed her the charcoal mix. She coughed a few times and spit some on my borrowed dress and on her chemise. After feeding her more water, Gwyn carried her to her bed and disappeared into the washroom. When she returned, she had a wet washcloth, which she used on Storm’s mother.
“What does she eat when like this?” I asked, settling on the chair so I could see her face for any signs of distress.
“Chicken, beef, or vegetable broth specially made for her with healing herbs the oracle adds.”
I frowned. “What healing herbs?”
“I don’t know, lass. I’m not good with herbs, but the oracle is the palace healer and she’s nursed the king and the prince through many ailments.”
And gained their trust. “Who makes the meal for the queen mother?”
“The cooks in the kitchen, but the oracle adds the herbs to her food.”
The bitch had every opportunity to finish off Storm’s mother, so why hadn’t she?
“Can the kitchen put aside some broth before she adds the herbs?”
Gwyn gave me a strange look. “If I asked them, yes. But why would you want to do that? The herbs keep the queen mother healthy.”
Or continued to keep her addicted to whatever the oracle was giving her.
“I know this might not make sense, but I’d like her to try the broth without the healing herbs.”
“The staff loves the queen mother and would do anything for her. If the herbs are not good for her, they will do whatever I ask.” The woman caught on quickly.
“Thank you.”
Lord Conyngham and his men were gone when I left the room. The fire was on in the common area. Instead of heading to my cell, I went exploring.
I found two other cells like mine with narrow beds. They must have knocked down several walls to create the queen mother’s room because hers was three times the size of the others. Each cell had a fireplace. From the different rocks used, they must have added the fireplaces. The common room had a few niches with narrow windows and wooden benches one could sleep on. A set of hidden stairs led upstairs, but I didn’t follow them.
Fire smoldered in my cell, and my bed was made with new covers. There were now enough ashes in my fireplace to create charcoal, so I took one smoldering log to bury in the queen mother’s hearth or the one in the common room, and almost bumped into Lord Conyngham.
“What are you doing now?” he barked.
His exasperated tone grated on my nerves, and I almost snapped back. He was probably spying on me for his lecherous, perverted prince.
“I’m trying to create charcoal.”
“What?”
He acted like I was an idiot. “Make. Charcoal.”
> His eyes narrowed, and his expression said he wasn’t convinced. I hated the condescending look on his face.
“Fine. Burn down the castle.”
I tried to walk around him, but he blocked me.
“I’ve never made charcoal before, but a neighbor once told me he made his when he cooked wood in the absence of oxygen. I’m going to shove this in the ashes and, hopefully, we’ll get more charcoal to use.”
His unsmiling presence was unsettling. Why couldn’t he go spy on someone else?
“Anyway, I have to make some and help the queen mother or your boss is going to haul me down the damn stairs for his nefarious shenanigans.”
Lord Conyngham didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he took the smoldering wood from my hand before I realized his intention and marched back inside my cell. He dropped it in the fireplace.
I wanted to hit him. I really did. I fisted my hand and mentally reduced him to a mongrel rat with oversize buckteeth.
“Why did you do that?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“To stop you from hurting yourself or worse, burning down the castle. I’ll send my men with some charcoal. Is there anything else you need?”
Completely blindsided by his offer, I studied him, actually seeing him for the first time since we met. He had piercing blue eyes, locks of golden blond hair nicely combed and tied in the back, and symmetrical features. Everything in its place. He was too perfect. Boring. After Storm, most men didn’t impress me in the looks department.
“Anything else?” he asked again.
“Keep him away from me,” I said.
I didn’t have to explain whom I meant. Of course, he couldn’t stop the prince unless he wanted to be thrown in the dungeons or one of these cells. On the other hand, he had a ship.
I lowered my voice as I continued. “Or help me escape the island.”
He snorted. “You are bold.”
“I am desperate. And not just me. The queen mother, too. She’s coming with me.”
“You are insane.” His eyes narrowed. “What’s to stop me from going downstairs and repeating what you just told me to Prince Tully?”
Storm Unleashed: Phantom Islanders Part III Page 6
