Tomorrow's Kingdom
Page 33
Taking a deep breath, she was about to explain all this to Azriel when she looked up at him and saw that no explanation was necessary. Her handsome husband knew her better than she knew herself—and perhaps he always had.
“You get the wooden torch,” he said with a slightly exasperated shake of his head. “I’ll get the human one.”
They followed the blood smears back to the cavern with all due haste. Even so, they got there too late to save Mordecai.
Not because he perished before they arrived but because they arrived to discover that the banyan tree had withered and the hole in the ground that had only a short time before contained miraculous healing waters was as dry as if it had ever been so.
Setting Mordecai down by the edge of the vanished pool, Azriel slowly walked around it as though in search of clues. When he came to the place where the General had fallen, he exhaled with sudden understanding.
“What is it, Azriel?” asked Persephone in a hushed voice. “What happened?”
“Do you remember that rainy night by the river when I told you that according to legend, the pool dried up the first time because someone had tainted it by spilling the blood of a trusted companion at its edge?” he replied. “Well, it would appear that General Murdock was Mordecai’s trusted companion.”
“So the pool has dried up again?” whispered Persephone, hugging Baby Finn close. “It is gone—forever?”
“Maybe not forever,” replied Azriel quietly. “But I daresay you and I will never see it again—and neither will Mordecai.”
At these words, the burnt thing that had once been the all-powerful Regent of Glyndoria let out a heart-rending wail and fell forward, dead, into the bone-dry bed of the vanished healing pool that might have saved his life.
EPILOGUE
PERSEPHONE, AZRIEL AND Baby Finn spent two long, cold, hungry days in the sea cave waiting for the storm to abate.
Within an hour of it doing so, Cairn had noticed Ivan circling high above the sea caves, Robert had followed a panicked Fleet to the edge of the cliff leading down to the royal quay, and Barka, Fayla and the royal guard had braved the still-frothing sea to follow Cur into the cave to the very spot where the grateful royal family sat waiting.
The weeks and months that followed were the happiest of Persephone’s life. Baby Finn thrived, Moira grew strong and, thanks to Meeka—who tended him ceaselessly and plied him with quail’s eggs at every opportunity—Zdeno made a full recovery from the wound he’d taken on the night of the baby’s kidnapping. Each day Persephone ruled her realm with the fair and steady hand of a good queen who would someday be known as great; each night, she made love to Azriel as freely, tirelessly and passionately as if she were nothing but a slave girl who was head over heels in love with a chicken thief.
One sunny afternoon, about six months after the ordeal in the sea caves, Azriel strode into Persephone’s sitting room and ordered her fetch the baby and follow him to the royal garden. Amused, she did as he bid.
“You know, I don’t think you’re allowed to order me around,” she said with a smile as they stepped into the courtyard. “I am queen, you know.”
“Close your eyes,” he commanded sternly.
“They are closed,” she said.
“Well, you’d better keep them that way,” warned Azriel as he began to guide her down a little-used garden path, “or I will be forced to up and give you a good spanking.”
At these familiar teasing words, Persephone laughed. Baby Finn gurgled in delight at the sound and reached up to give her hair a yank. As she gave him a tickle in the ribs that made him giggle helplessly, Azriel suddenly stopped walking. Stepping behind Persephone, he slipped his arms around her waist, laid his cheek aside her own and whispered, “Open your eyes, wife.”
She opened them at once and then inhaled in amazement.
For there, tucked away into a hidden corner of the royal garden, was a pretty little thatch-roofed cottage. It had a yard full of scratching chickens, an oak tree with a swing hung from a low branch, a neat little garden and a pond that Persephone just knew was stocked with fish.
“A place for you to retreat from your cares, Your Majesty,” murmured Azriel. “It is appointed exactly as I ever promised—except that instead of keeping a fat pig and growing our own grain, I thought we’d just order up bacon, beer and bread from the royal kitchens. What do you think?”
Turning in his arms, Persephone kissed him deeply. “Oh, Azriel,” she sighed as she pulled away from him. “I think you are perfect.”
Looking extremely pleased by her assessment of him, Azriel took her by the hand and led her over to the oak tree. After helping her and Baby Finn settle onto the swing, he gently began to push them. As Persephone listened to the sound of her son’s gurgles and felt the warm sun on her face, she revelled in the knowledge that the three of them would be together tomorrow and for a thousand tomorrows thereafter.
She, Azriel and Baby Finn—
The Gypsy who would be king.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a book is a solitary endeavour; getting a book published and into the hands of readers is most definitely a team effort. To this end, there are a number of people I’d like to thank:
My editor, Lynne Missen, and the whole team at Razorbill, for doing such a tremendous job of helping to make The Gypsy King books the best they could possibly be.
My agent, Marie Campbell, for believing in me and for always working so hard on my behalf.
The reviewers, bloggers, tweeters, librarians, teachers, booksellers and everyone else who helped to let the world know about The Gypsy King trilogy.
My husband, Nick, and our kids, Hannah, Sophie and Sam, for their understanding during those times when the writing of The Gypsy King books consumed me—and also for being my constant companions during this rollercoaster ride I call a writing career. No writer ever had a more loyal and supportive fan club.
Finally, I’d like to thank all those readers who have taken the time to get in touch to let me know how much you loved The Gypsy King and A Fool’s Errand . Your enthusiasm has meant more to me than you’ll ever know.
RAZORBILL
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First published 2014
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 (RRD)
Copyright © Maureen Fergus, 2014
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Publisher’s note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Manufactured in the U.S.A.
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LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION
Fergus, Maureen, author
Tomorrow’s kingdom / Maureen Fergus.
(The Gypsy king)
ISBN 978-0-670-06766-4
I. Title. II. Series: Fergus, Maureen. Gypsy king trilogy.
PS8611.E735T64 2014 jC813’.6 C2013-908075-9
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eBook ISBN 978-0-14-319205-3
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