Caledonia Fae 05 - Elder Druid

by India Drummond

  The solution was perfect. Elegant, even. Tràth could deal with his own sense of loss if only he did not have the constant humiliation of experiencing Douglas’ fraught emotions washing over him. “What if shutting off my connection to him undoes the healing effect of the bond? What if I begin to go insane?” Tràth looked away from her, not able to bear the gentleness in her eyes.

  “If we are successful, and I cannot promise we will be, and if the closure of the connection pains you, then we will reverse the process and restore the bond. I know from my own experience it’s easily done. You will be no worse off than you are right now. I will devote a portion of my energies to soothing your mind, if necessary. You will need to stay close to me, but I am strong enough to offer some aid. Over time, you will grow stronger. Already you control time in ways you couldn’t before. I saw you stop time to catch Maiya. It was an incredible moment to witness. You will master the flows of time…in time.”

  Her generosity overwhelmed Tràth. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he only nodded. No one had ever taken such care of him. Why did this young queen possess the power to make him feel like a child?

  She smiled and stood. “Now. Come to the dinner. I cannot excuse your absence at this point without insulting Princess Imena. After she retires to her Hall, we will return to Caledonia. I will do my best to teach you. If we fail, we will enlist the help of my own mentors.”

  “I don’t deserve your kindness, Eilidh,” Tràth said. He rarely called her by her name, despite her insistence that he should.

  “Of course you do,” she said, touching his cheek. “I am not your mother, yet you are my son.”

  Tràth took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I wish you had been. If my mother had possessed even a sliver of your grace, I would be a different person.”

  Eilidh tilted her head in a modest acknowledgement. “We’re already late,” she said. “The princess will be annoyed, no doubt. I will send Tolin to escort her and take the first drink with her. Then, you will dine beside her. Smile and be pleasant, and the ordeal will be over soon.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I will do my best to entertain her well.”

  “I’ll speak to your father. You don’t need to worry about frog piss,” she said with a chuckle. “As long as I am queen, you have a place in Caledonia.”

  He bowed as she left and made haste as the attendants returned to finish preparing him for dinner. Thoughts of the future suddenly seemed less bleak. The comfort may have come from whatever astral trick Eilidh had done to soothe him. Perhaps the moment the evening was over, his sense of ease would disappear. Still, time thrummed clearly in his mind, as it always did when he was sober. That alone gave him reason to hope.

  ∞

  Imena held herself perfectly still as her attendant painted sparkling black dots around her eyes. She wore a silver gown that covered her wine-coloured skin from the neck down, exposing only her hands, on which she wore several black rings. Her sandals were decorated with the same black metal as her jewellery. After the attendant finished with his painting brush, he began to place diamonds into the complex pattern.

  The dinner would, of course, likely be tedious. Since word of her mother’s waning health had gotten out, an array of princes, lords, conclave elders, and their sons had attempted to initiate courtship. But Caledonia was an important kingdom. At least, it had become so when Queen Eilidh took a Druid Lord as her mate. The Keepers and even the Stone itself recognised the druids’ power as that of the ancient draoidh sorcerers. Imena’s mother, Queen Naima, couldn’t deny the influence in the Halls of Mist was shifting. Under Naima’s rule, the kingdom of Zalia held itself separate from other kingdoms, but Imena’s instincts told her she should entertain potential alliances. She had been the one who spread the rumour, and like ants to a drop of honey, powerful suitors came running. None from among the Druid Hall, but that, perhaps, would be expecting too much.

  The one spot of interest that evening, other than her first opportunity to meet a human druid, was her escort, Prince Tràth. Rumours of his madness abounded. Some painted him as a drooling lunatic, while others indicated merely a flair for dramatic eccentricity. In this, at least, he promised to be more interesting than others she’d entertained of late.

  The attendant finished his work with the jewels and tidied her jet black hair, arranging the ringlets around her face. He stepped aside so Imena could examine her reflection in the tall mirror. Her chamber in the Caledonian Hall was elegant but plain. She much preferred the impressive grandeur of her homeland’s architecture, but her recent travels to other kingdoms and Halls had exposed her to a dizzying array of horrible fashions.

  “Is it time yet?” she asked.

  “The hour has passed, Princess,” her attendant said. “Prince Tràth is late.”

  “How surprisingly rude,” she said. She couldn’t deny her curiosity about the prince. How mad was he?

  “Indeed.” Footfalls sounded in an outer chamber, and her attendant left her admiring her reflection.

  He returned a moment later. “One called Tolin is waiting in our reception room, Princess,” he said, his voice low.

  “Who?” She was stunned at the bizarre change of plans. Even places such as Caledonia observed strict protocol on such things, despite many claims that rules of propriety were much more lax here.

  “Tolin is both a cousin to Queen Eilidh’s first mate, Prince Griogair, and the cousin of Queen Zdanye of Tvorskane.”

  “What about Prince Tràth? I anticipated he would be my escort.”

  “Yes, Princess. Nonetheless, Tolin arrived and claimed the honour.”

  Imena searched her memory but didn’t know anything about this Tolin. “Is he a potential suitor?” she asked.

  The attendant tilted his head. “He has no title, but he lives under the bloodline of two royal houses. It would not be an inconceivable match.” His pinched expression told her he thought she could do better.

  Imena frowned. “Very well,” she said. She should be insulted, but instead she found herself insanely curious.

  She walked into the outer chamber to meet her new escort. He was a tall and beautiful faerie, a perfect specimen. When she approached, he bowed deeply, as though she already wore her mother’s crown. “Princess Imena,” he said. “I am most honoured to escort you to dinner tonight, if you will allow me.” He held himself flawlessly still, awaiting her reply.

  “Where is Prince Tràth?” she asked.

  Tolin hesitated. “I’m sorry he could not escort you tonight, Your Highness. If you will accept my company, I will introduce you to the Caledonian court and take the first drink with you. Prince Tràth is expected at dinner.”

  “So he’s here. In the Caledonian Hall?”

  “I encountered him earlier this evening, although we did not speak.”

  “He is not ill?”

  “No, Your Highness.”

  “He was not called away on urgent business?”

  “No, Your Highness. He will arrive soon, I’m sure.”

  “He’s not suffered a personal tragedy or taken a grievous injury?”

  Tolin looked both embarrassed and confused. “No, Your Highness.”

  “For whatever reason, then, Prince Tràth judges me unworthy of his careful attention?”

  “Of course not, Your Highness. I’m sure Prince Tràth is devastated to miss even a moment in your company. I do not know what held him up tonight, but I assure you he intended no insult by his tardiness.”

  “Yet insult has been administered nonetheless.” Imena thought carefully. She considered refusing to go to the dinner. Caledonia was an increasingly important kingdom, but the invitation had been theirs. If she responded to the insult, Queen Eilidh might be quick to attempt to amend the situation. In future bargaining, Imena might hold the upper hand. Conversely, if she ignored the incident, Queen Eilidh may be even more grateful. An indebted ally might be valuable. Imena’s mother would have stormed out, without question. Naima was known fo
r her intractable manner. Eilidh knew this. And the young queen still sent a substitute.

  “I offer humble apologies, Princess Imena. I’m sure our entire Hall is dismayed that we have fallen short of your expectations. I am not worthy to escort you, of course. Yet, should you decide to accept my invitation, I would treasure the moment.”

  Imena’s mouth twitched. Tolin possessed a ridiculous portion of charm. She wasn’t certain when she decided to attend the dinner, but suddenly they were walking down the corridor together. As they proceeded down the long stair, Imena couldn’t resist asking one more question. “Is Prince Tràth quite mad?”

  Tolin stumbled, then muttered his apologies. He waited a few steps before he answered. “My cousin wields difficult magic, Your Highness. I can’t imagine the focus required to contend with constant awareness of time.”

  She smirked. “With such awareness, one would think he would be punctual.”

  Her escort chuckled. “One would think, Highness.”

  Together they entered a small reception hall filled with courtiers enjoying tall glasses of dark wine, likely from Eilidh’s newly acquired regions. The former kingdom of Andena had been famous for both wine and honey. Tolin introduced her to one small group at a time. Imena was disappointed to see no druids present. She’d heard many things about them, including that despite their human origins, exposure to the Otherworld had changed their appearance. Some, it was rumoured, even had the magical presence of the fae, making it impossible to tell the difference by sensing the flows alone. Of course, their bodies would probably still have the strong musculature of humans. Among other things, she imagined they would still be shorter than the fae, but she wanted to observe them for herself. She knew better than to trust rumours too far.

  Soon after Imena’s arrival, Queen Eilidh entered, flanked by her first mate and her third: Princes Griogair and Koen. It appeared Lord Druid Munro would not make an appearance either. She wasn’t sure why, but his absence annoyed her further. The druids had petitioned her mother for the ability to use the Zalian gates to the human realm. Her mother had refused, but Imena had believed, given Caledonia’s close ties with the Druid Hall, they would make another attempt tonight.

  Imena frowned. Guests at such functions always arrived in order of rank. If Tràth arrived after Eilidh, his tardiness would insult the queen. The Zalian princess wondered how her hostess would address such a slight.

  “Ah, Your Majesty,” Tolin said as Eilidh approached. He bowed to the queen.

  She nodded in response and turned her attention immediately to Imena. “Princess,” she said. “How delightful to see you again. I hope your mother fares well.”

  Imena bowed her head to the queen. “She is well, thank you.”

  “Of course you know my mate, Prince Griogair, but have you met my third mate, Prince Koen?” The prince acknowledged Imena with a silent nod.

  “I’m surprised your second mate is not in attendance, Your Majesty.”

  Eilidh waved her hand, shooing away the thought. “I’m afraid Quinton detests state occasions. You’re more likely to run into him at the library than in a dinner hall. At one point, he suggested we have a private mating ritual. As though a queen can do anything private.” She laughed, and her mates joined her. “I am convinced he made the suggestion only because he hoped to avoid wearing formal clothing.”

  Imena tried not to stare. Queen Eilidh was unlike other queens. She had the same confidence, but she laughed. “I’m even more disappointed that Prince Tràth neglected to escort me tonight, as promised. I’ve heard so much about him.”

  Eilidh raised her eyebrow and took a sip of her wine.

  Irritation swelled. Would the queen not even apologise for her step-son’s rudeness? “If he intends to press his suit, he might endeavour to make a good impression.”

  Eilidh coughed delicately. “Oh dear. Was that your expectation?” She handed her wine glass to a hovering steward. “I would have thought you’d had quite enough of suitors. Last I heard, no fewer than thirty faeries of rank had made initial offers.” She stepped forward, gesturing toward a large archway. Imena couldn’t politely resist the queen’s manoeuvring, so she allowed herself to be guided in that direction. The three men followed behind. “No,” Eilidh said. “Prince Tràth is not suitable for courtship. Don’t misunderstand. He’s intelligent. Exceedingly so. He’s as devastatingly handsome as his father.” She smiled over her shoulder at her first mate. “He’s powerful in the magic of five spheres. Having been chosen as a bonded faerie to a Druid Lord, he’s adept in all four earth spheres as well as being the only known temporal faerie.” Eilidh shook her head. “Despite his many positive traits, I’m afraid he wouldn’t do as a potential mate for you. I do apologise if you inferred otherwise from our invitation.”

  Imena stopped. “You think me unworthy of your step-son?”

  Eilidh chuckled. “Of course not. Quite the contrary.”

  “He’s undisciplined, then? Ill-suited for diplomacy?” Imena asked, unable to resist the notion that Eilidh was confiding in her.

  “I wouldn’t say so.” Eilidh smiled at Imena. “What about Prince Laycelle of Boulstrad or Queen Konstanze’s nephew, Prince Eddings?”

  “Edgar,” Griogair corrected her.

  “Edgar. Yes, thank you,” Eilidh said to Griogair before turning her attention back to Imena. “Konstanze is arguably the most powerful queen in the Otherworld. You would both benefit from such an alliance. I met Edgar once. He’s lovely in appearance and quite a gentle soul. Didn’t you think, my love?” she said over her shoulder.

  “Indeed,” Griogair replied.

  Imena stopped, realising she’d been guided into the dining hall. “Yet the most powerful queen in the Otherworld bent her knee to your second mate, Lord Druid Quinton Munro.”

  Eilidh smiled and tilted her head. “Here we are.” She gestured to the lushly arrayed tables arranged in small groupings with low, lounging seats positioned in twos and threes.

  Imena had to school her features. She’d expected to be wooed by Queen Eilidh, to have Prince Tràth foisted upon her. This strange turn surprised and intrigued her. Did Queen Eilidh truly think him unsuitable? More likely, she believed Imena undeserving of such a powerful mate. But why? What was so special about him that a princess of Imena’s rank would not even be rated to meet him? She turned to Tolin. “Thank you for your kind attention this evening,” she said.

  “The pleasure has been mine,” he replied. “It has been delightful to spend these moments with you. With your permission, I’ll remain with you until my cousin arrives. I’m sure he won’t be long.”

  “Unless you’d rather join me and my mates?” Eilidh offered. “We’ll not discuss treaties or trade, of course. Such topics are best left to other occasions. Besides, although we’re still two hours from dawn, I am loathe to spoil such a pleasant dinner with official talks.”

  Such an arrangement would prove awkward. The seating was designed for intimate conversations in small groups of two or sometimes three. Between courses, guests would circulate and chat with others, then either return to their own tables or swap partners to eat the next course with someone else. Imena thanked Eilidh, but accepted Tolin’s companionship.

  He was pleasant enough, chatting idly throughout the first course. Decent company, but dull. She’d had the same conversations with many suitors. All the while, Imena watched the door. Prince Tràth didn’t arrive. She was indignant and insulted, yet curious. After they ate mulled berries with cinnamon bread, Tolin artfully took her to mingle while servants set up the next course.

  She watched the crowd and spoke to several people she’d met earlier in the evening, all while smiling politely. When the second course was due to begin, she found Prince Koen at her arm. “Princess Imena,” he said. “I hope you’ll allow me to join you at your table. Your kingdom is one which I’ve not yet visited, but it sounds remarkable. I’d love to learn more about your homeland, if you’d care to tell me. I understand in some cor
ners, Zalians speak a dialect of the fae tongue known nowhere else in the kingdoms. Is that true?”

  Prince Tràth strode into the dining room. He didn’t seem mad at all. He was tall, with black hair. He looked remarkably like his father, as Eilidh had said, but he had soulful blue eyes with a strange, haunted quality about them. She watched as he approached the queen. He kissed her cheek with what appeared to be sincere affection, as though she were his own mother.

  “Princess?” Koen said.

  Imena’s cheeks warmed. “Yes?” she asked, returning her attention to the queen’s mate.

  “Shall I dine with you?”

  “Of course,” she said. She had little choice. She might have been a guest and a princess, but Koen was the mate of a queen. Events of the evening had proven Imena did not have the upper hand in Caledonia, a sensation that both intrigued and surprised her.

  Koen chatted with Imena politely, asking many questions about Zalia, Imena’s home city of Tafgul, and her own interests. He declared his own love of music and got her to describe the different styles of Zalian instruments, which were well regarded throughout the kingdoms. She told him she played some music, but to her mother’s dismay, had little talent for the arts. No, she didn’t sing. All the while, she stole glances at Tràth. He and Tolin joined Eilidh for the next course, and Prince Griogair sat with a member of Eilidh’s joint conclave.

  Not once did Tràth so much as glance in her direction. During the next course, Griogair requested to dine with her. Like Koen, he made light conversation. His interest lay more in the visual arts than in music. Between each course, the guests drank a different wine. Tolin would return to her side and inquire if she was suitably entertained. She tried to manoeuver closer to Prince Tràth. She shouldn’t have difficulty instigating a conversation to discover why their match was so unsuitable. Every time she came within a few feet of him, another minor royal, cousin or courtier, intercepted her, inviting her to take the next course with him or her.

  Imena desperately wanted to speak with Tràth, but she never found the opportunity. For the final course, Queen Eilidh, through Tolin, invited Imena to the head of the room. When Imena turned around, Tràth was speaking to the queen. He bowed to Eilidh, then again kissed her cheek. The signs were unmistakeable. He planned to leave.