Bound by Birthright

by Janeal Falor

  Emeline’s jaw drops, and Octavian sneers at her. He shoves my shoulder, pushing me toward the front of the ship while Emeline huffs behind us. His touch is revolting, making me stiffen and pull away. It takes all my power not to run from him. That, and there’s nowhere to run to.

  The ship is full of pirates. An elven priest shifts nervously in front of Captain Smythe. The captain’s face looks as if he could blow up like a volcano, sending the whole ship into the depths of the sea. I make a mental note to stay as far from him as possible.

  A flock of seagulls flies overhead. The sun has just peeked over the horizon when Octavian and I stand in front of the priest. The usually filthy pirates are gathered around, looking like they at least attempted to clean up.

  My knees are weak as the priest speaks. He looks uncomfortable and keeps mopping the sweat off his forehead, though the air is cool.

  I rack my brain but can’t come up with any thoughts on how to get Jocelyn and me to safety. I dart my gaze about nervously, looking for something to give me an idea. The priest’s mouth is still moving—words are said, but none of them enter my head. I needed a chance to save Jocelyn. There has to be something. It can’t end like this.

  And then it happens. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar merchant vessel.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Five

  “Arabella, answer the priest.” Octavian’s voice shatters my dream.

  My mind races for a way to stall until the ship arrives. “I’m sorry—what was that?”

  “You need to answer the priest. Don’t go changing your mind now.”

  “I—I…”

  “What? Spit it out, girl.”

  “It’s just that I think maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  “Don’t start with me.” His scowl is deeper than ever.

  “I can’t do this. I know better than this, and I won’t give you what you want.”

  “You will.” His face boils, his voice dangerously low. He grabs my arm, and the pain and pressure make my finger ache. “If you don’t do this, I’ll get Jocelyn. You’ll watch as Captain Smythe tortures her. Sooner or later, you will give in. I’d recommend doing so before people have to die.”

  “Why should I give in to you? You might just go ahead and kill them anyway. Anyone who gets in your way is a risk. For all I know, you’ll kill me a few years down the road, after you’ve been crowned king. I’ll never give you what you want.”

  He brings my face to his with a forceful jerk, his rank breath making the contents of my stomach protest. His dark eyes try to pierce through me.

  The anger and hatred building within me are horrifying. I try not to let myself tremble, concentrating on the fact that help is coming.

  He darts his gaze about, his eyes growing stormier. All of a sudden, the wind picks up, and I know it’s him casting a spell. His emotions are getting the best of him. He could destroy us all. Lightning dances in his eyes as the early morning sun is covered by black, angry clouds.

  I follow his line of sight to Captain Zaccheus’s ship. Robert’s ship. My heart feels like it’s yanked from me.

  The seas become rougher while the angry wind howls. Gathering all my strength, I release my magic from the inside. The light prickles move from my chest to my arms and out of my hands, shooting straight for the sky. The clouds move, letting the sunlight shine through.

  Octavian turns his face back to mine, mystified. “You can’t be doing this.” Shock taints his words. “You already have skills in gardening, and I know of your face transformation. You shouldn’t be able to do more than that. At least not to such a strong degree.”

  I glare and give him my most vicious smile. The wind becomes a gentle breeze, and I release the spell. Octavian snarls and thrusts his arms out in front of him. The light disappears again behind dark clouds. Drops of rain fall on me, quickly turning to a fierce downpour.

  I turn toward the sky, wondering how I can possibly combat him when an idea comes to me. I raise my arms above me, and magic races upward through them. I concentrate on the rain, focusing as much of it as I can on Octavian. Chilling the air, I turn the rain centered on him to hail.

  As they come swishing down, several bits of hail pelt me with stinging pain, but they are nothing compared to the torrent unleashed upon him.

  Lightning flashes, brightening his twisted face. Stunned at the pure hatred it contains, I falter and take a step back. In my short distraction, he pulls himself out of the hail and toward me. He raises his hand and brings it down sharply on my cheek.

  Captain Smythe takes notice of the approaching boat and yells orders at his men. The pirates scatter about, swords drawn. The wind whips my hair. The distance between the pirates’ ship and Robert’s is decreasing rapidly as I send them an aiding wind, ignoring the stinging on my face.

  “You will not defy me.” Octavian’s harsh voice jerks through me.

  “I will,” I yell back.

  He grabs me by the arm and drags me across the ship toward the room Jocelyn is held in, forcing my spell to cease. I kick and scream, but he pulls me along. He’s so much bigger than me that I can’t get a grip.

  Robert’s ship pulls up next to the pirates’, and men pour aboard. I try to kick my heels into the deck to slow Octavian, but with frightening intensity, he throws me against the door.

  I crumple to a heap. Then the pain hits, spreading through every part of me. Where is the guard?

  He swaggers forward and stops before reaching me. Seeing him raise his foot, I curl into a ball to protect myself from the blow.

  Crash.

  I fall backward as the door behind me gives way from his kick. I tumble into the room. He wasn’t aiming for me after all. He is more capable than he looks. With pain radiating through me, I frantically search for Jocelyn. All I can find are two bunks and the empty dresser. The room is deserted. Some of the tension leaves, but I can’t help but wonder where she is. If she’s safe.

  Octavian howls. “Emeline, you will pay for double crossing me.”

  Seeing his wrath heading in my direction, I roll farther out of reach until I bump into the dresser. Within two steps, he catches up to me, lifts his arms, and whips it down full force. I put my arm up to block him the best I can.

  A mere second before impact, a massive hand grabs Octavian’s arm and throws him to the ground. Captain Smythe looms over us, hatred flowing out of him like molten lava.

  “You scoundrel,” Captain Smythe bellows. “Trying to make me do all the work and not pay me for it. Now my ship is overrun with humans and elves trying to kill my men. I am done listening to you. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. While my men take care of these pests, you will go get my gold, and then I’ll leave you on the beach to watch me sail away. Never to ask anything of me again.”

  Octavian stumbles to his feet before regaining his composure. I try to make myself as small as possible while the two men try to outdo one another. Octavian straightens his back and looks up at Captain Smythe.

  Though he’s dwarfed by Captain Smythe’s height, Octavian doesn’t appear worried. His face tightens, and he balls his fists. “Captain Smythe, I do believe I hired you to do an easy enough job, yet you managed to foul it up on every point. There will be no pay unless you finish the job, scumbag.”

  “Just try leaving the boat alive without giving me what is duly mine.”

  Octavian tries to move past Captain Smythe to get to me. Captain Smythe doesn’t budge, and for once, I’m grateful to him.

  “You fool,” Octavian says. “With her magic abilities, she’ll unleash who-knows-what type of spell on us. We can discuss this later.”

  His words give me the push to find something I can manipulate to my favor. The wind howls more loudly, and the boat sways harder, back and forth. Though I’m still sitting, the constant rocking makes it difficult for me to think past t
he churning inside me.

  There has to be something that can be used as a weapon or magically enhanced. A few bits of dirt are the only thing on the floor. Nothing on the bed. I don’t dare reach for the brush and hair ornaments, but I make note that they’re there.

  “I will no longer follow your rules, soothsayer,” Captain Smythe says. “If you don’t give me and my men our pay, I will take the princess with me.”

  No. Not that.

  Octavian’s gaze darts about. I shrink back. Neither of these men will bring me anything but harm. I want to rush for the exit, but a man and elf stand in my way.

  Both males’ bodies teeter with the tossing ship. Lightning flashes through the open door, brightening the space around Captain Smythe’s body. Octavian opens his mouth to speak, but before any words come out, Captain Smythe groans in pain and shuffles further into the room, almost stepping on me.

  I scurry the other way as another man storms to us.

  Robert.

  He’s covered in sweat and a bleeding wound is on his left arm, but he’s come.

  “My lady, if you would be kind enough to wait out in the hall, I will safely escort you to shore if one of my men doesn’t show up,” he says without looking at me.

  I rise and head for the door, staying as far from Octavian and Captain Smythe as possible. Robert shifts slightly to make room for me to leave. As I pass, I lightly touch his arm, sending it magical healing energy and renewing him.

  Before I make it out of harm’s way, Captain Smythe steps forward and swings his sword, hitting Robert on the head with the hilt. He grabs me, pulls me close, and brings his blade to my neck.

  Panic threatens to overwhelm me, but I work to stay calm. Robert has an oozing gash on his head, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he stares at me wide-eyed. “Let her go,” he says.

  Captain Smythe sneers. “She’s the best bargaining chip there is. I don’t think I’ll be letting her go. You know, I think I’ll be taking Octavian with me. Some of my boys could use some work on their torturing skills.”

  The blood drains out of Octavian’s face as Captain Smythe edges closer, still holding the sword against my neck. My heart races while the boat remains unsteady around us. As we inch closer to the deck, I maneuver my hand, to reach the hairpins on my head. Octavian’s face goes from white to green. When we reach him, Captain Smythe withdraws the sword from my neck.

  I slip one of the pins into my hand, pull my fist forward, and bring it back down, thrusting the pin into Captain Smythe’s leg. As soon as it’s in, I cast a spell on the metal, bending it into a hook.

  “Stupid wench.” Captain Smythe grunts in pain.

  He yanks me away from his injured leg and holds me against his other side. He tries to yank out the pin, but despite several swift tugs, it doesn’t budge. He clamps his jaw shut and leaves the hook in. He motions Octavian closer with his sword. The movement is slight, but the sword fills the small room with action, whipping around.

  Desperate now, I search for anything else I can use to change the odds. A flash of inspiration comes when lightning lights up the room. I scoot my foot backward and touch the plank Captain Smythe is standing on. Magic spreads through me, releasing its energy into the board. Using the spell, I put pressure on the flimsy spots I can find in the boards. With the plank weakened, I pull away, praying it’ll work.

  Captain Smythe shifts his weight to the foot not on the fragile board. I grit my teeth and lean forward. His weight shifts with my movement, and his massive leg crashes through the floor.

  I wrench free of his grasp and attempt to get as far as possible. Octavian stands there, still green, his eyes wide. Robert lunges for the pirate, and Captain Smythe’s body crumples in pain from the jagged plank that digs into his leg.

  Octavian springs up with Robert focusing on Captain Smythe. Racing to leave the heated room, he bolts for the door that’s now unguarded. Robert turns at the noise and thrusts himself forward, barely cutting Octavian off.

  Captain Smythe pulls his leg from the hole, blood running down it. He knocks me to the side and barrels to the exit. Colliding with Robert, Captain Smythe bashes Robert’s head, opening another wound. Grimacing, Robert raises his sword and swings at Captain Smythe’s arm. Octavian cowers in the corner away from the fighting men, and I watch, waiting for an opportunity to help.

  Captain Smythe flinches as Robert’s sword slices a deep wound on his arm. The pirate thrusts his sword toward Robert, who parries it from entering vital organs but doesn’t escape it piercing his side. Robert holds his sword up to fight, but it sways with his taxed body.

  Captain Smythe shoves him to the ground and runs for the door. Octavian is about to follow, when I jump toward him and push with all my might. Falling over Robert, Octavian crashes to the floor. He staggers to get up, but I grab Robert’s sword out of his limp hand and hold it to Octavian’s jeweled throat.

  “You know how well I’m trained with a sword. Do not dare test my patience. Get on the bed now,” I say.

  “But—”

  “Now.”

  Looking defeated, Octavian sulks to the bed and sits motionless. Another bolt of lightning flashes, and his eyes lose the fire they once held. I keep the sword pointed at him, torn between making sure he does no more damage and going to Robert. A moan from Robert spins me into action.

  Watching Octavian, I cut a strip of the bottom of the wedding dress. “Put your hands together by the bunk and don’t move.” I make quick work of tying his hands together and then run to Robert. I kneel by him and try not to let my emotions overwhelm me. “I’m going to fix you up now.”

  I look over his wounds as best I can while still keeping an eye on Octavian. Carefully, I place a hand on Robert and try not to lurch with the tossing ship. I cast a healing spell, fearing neither of us has enough health to spare.

  The bleeding from all his wounds slows but doesn’t stop. The gashes on his head look as if they will heal over time, and with much care, his torso should too. But it’s hard not to worry. In a short amount of time, the cabin floor has become slick with his blood.

  His eyes flutter.

  “Robert, stay with me.” A tear slips down my cheek.

  He sputters and coughs. In a voice like the whisper of butterfly wings, he says, “Arabella, you’re making a good choice in marrying the prince.” His eyes fill with peace, and then they close.

  “No, Robert. Come back. Don’t do this now.” I search for the tiniest bit of magic, sending him every last drop of health I can use from my own body. Agony tears through me, cutting me apart I as hold onto his limp form. I put my face down by his cheek, my tears pouring on both of us—though they’re not from the physical pain.

  It hasn’t been long enough for me to know him. He can’t die now. Not ever. I wanted to be part of his life, and even though I can’t, I want to know he’s still out there somewhere living a good life. He can’t go like this. He just can’t.

  Footsteps pound toward us. In hope of help, I ignore the pain and pull away. Abner enters the room. He takes in all the blood and my hand over Robert’s wound.

  “What have you done to him, witch?” He storms over and pushes me away with a surprising strength. Two more humans enter the tiny room, their eyes widening with horror. “See what this elf has done to him?” Abner says. “I told him these elves weren’t to be trusted. Get him to our ship. We have to leave this diabolical place.”

  “No,” I say, my voice pleading. “You have it wrong. I was trying to help him. Please, you must let our healer attend him.”

  Abner turns and spits on me.

  Misery and shock stun me. I can do nothing while the three men carefully pick up Robert’s body and edge out the door, their footsteps soon fading in the distance. I try to go after the men, but as soon as I stand, I fall back to the ground, exhausted from use of my magic.

  Octavian stands with a
smug expression on his face that dissipates when more footsteps come down the hall. As familiar elvish faces come into view, I faint.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Six

  I stare out the window.

  A month has passed since that frightful day on the boat. Everything has seemed so distant. Cold and lonely.

  Jocelyn enters the room and strolls over to me. “My lady, is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, thank you, Jocelyn. I’m fine.” My voice sounds feeble to my own ears.

  “All right, my lady.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve been moping again. Perhaps I’ll take a walk in the garden or do some fencing.”

  “Yes. First, the king and queen would like a word with you.”

  “I’ll go see them shortly.”

  Jocelyn dips her head and moves to leave the room.

  “One more thing,” I say. “I’ve told you there’s no need to be so formal with me. You may use my name. I’d enjoy your company in the garden this evening, if you wish to join me.”

  She beams. We’ve spent much time together in the recent weeks, and though it’s hard not to be distant since I’m caught up in the affairs of state and, more importantly, wondering what happened to Robert, the bond between us is strengthening. “Yes, I’d like that. There were new flowers blossoming when I was there this morning. Plus, I saw a few that could benefit from your skills. I’ll be there when you’re finished.” With that, Jocelyn leaves the room.

  After freshening up some, I head down to the great hall to meet with my parents. On the way, my thoughts turn to the scroll. Constance informed me that Andries is getting close to making it completely readable. What he’s uncovered so far confirmed its authenticity. My parents were right to try to force the marriage. If it came true, it would help both of our races. But after all that’s happened, we still don’t know if there will be a wedding.