Fire and Fate: Part 1 & 2 (Dragons of Galicia)

by Simone Pond

  “Goodness gracious,” gasped Rhiannon.

  “Has someone slipped something in my drink?” asked Abi.

  Saoirse remained quiet as the girls approached.

  It was no surprise that Ciara was the one who made the most pother. Her ice blue eyes cut into Siobhan. “Have you fallen so low as to walk with the Queen of Goats? And my goodness, what is that dress?” She stopped to chuckle and move one of her black tendrils behind her slender shoulder. “Did you hit your head when you slipped in the mud?”

  Siobhan glared at Ciara. “It was you who pushed me. You tried to sabotage my chances. You want to ruin all of our chances!”

  The messenger held up his chubby hands, standing between the two girls. “Ladies, I implore you to settle down. The decision has already been made.”

  Ciara shoved Siobhan backward. “Oh, dearest. Your feeble attempts to woo the prince with whatever this is … were a waste of time. The decision has already been made.”

  Evelyn knew right then that Prince Kieran had selected Ciara as his second choice. The confidence and casualness she exuded was a dead giveaway. Though the other girls were done up to perfection and appeared more lovely than they ever had, their wide eyes and twitching lips exhibited unease.

  Siobhan glanced at Evelyn and the bag settled next to her on the ground. “You knew,” she whispered.

  Evelyn remained quiet, too stunned to reply. Ciara swung around and for the first time noticed the travel bag.

  “What’s going on?” Ciara said, eyes glinting at Evelyn.

  “I, um, I just … came prepared …” she stuttered.

  “Where’s the prince?” asked Abi.

  “Yes, where is Prince Kieran?” Rhiannon demanded.

  Though the rules had been clearly stated over the years that the mothers of the May Day girls were to remain at a specific distance—due to previous experiences of interference—they began to approach the scene.

  “What is happening here?” one of the mothers spat.

  “Yes, where is the prince? We were told he would be making his selection today. Taking one of the May Day Five––”

  Without anyone noticing, Deirdre had come up and stepped before the women. “There are actually six May Day females. Something the rest of you seem to conveniently forget. Evelyn is a May Day baby and has the same right as each of your daughters to be selected by the prince.”

  The women started shouting and yelling back and forth, accusing Deirdre of caring more about her goats than her daughter, telling her that she deserved nothing from anyone in the hamlet. Then the May Day Five began squabbling. The ruckus grew louder and louder and soon the residents of Ocelum ventured out of their cottages to see what was happening. Evelyn wrapped the cloak around her body and quietly stepped back to separate herself from the commotion. She stood on the sidelines, observing the scene, hardly able to believe her mother was in the middle of the yelling match. But she was pleased to see her finally taking part and standing up for herself and Evelyn.

  The disturbance escalated and the ladies continued shouting, refusing to come to a resolution. Evelyn thought the fighting would last forever, until a trumpet sounded in the distance.

  “The prince,” whispered Evelyn, smiling to herself. “He has come to save the day.”

  The sound of the trumpet echoed again, yet the group of women continued arguing back and forth. The younger girls were now pulling at the ribbons in each other’s hair and scratching at each other. The messenger extricated himself from the situation and clambered over next to Evelyn, where he stood observing the insanity.

  The prince rode into Ocelum on his black stallion and came to a halt at the center of the fracas. The mothers hastened to regain their composure, but it took another few moments before the May Day Five realized Prince Kieran was in their company. Ciara was the first to pull away from the others.

  She curtsied politely. “My lord.”

  The others immediately stopped fighting and followed suit. Their ribbons were now strewn across the dirt, their dresses torn in places, and their fancy hairdos dismantled.

  “My, my. What do we have here?” The prince dismounted and glanced at each of the girls in disappointment. He turned around and seemed to breathe relief when he saw Evelyn standing apart from the crowd. He strutted over to her and bowed. “My lady.” He kissed her hand.

  She giggled lightly as she curtsied. “My lord.”

  “Smart choice, standing back here,” he said.

  “Indeed.”

  Prince Kieran turned to the disheveled group of ladies, taking Evelyn’s hand in his and walking over. They did their best to straighten up and smooth out their rumpled garments and mussed hair, but the only one in the bunch—besides Evelyn—who remained put together was Ciara. She probably started the brawl in the first place then ducked for cover, Evelyn thought. Ciara’s jet black hair remained perfectly curled atop her head and her pale blue dress was as clean as a cloudless sky.

  “I’m so sorry you’ve had to witness such a horrible sight, Prince Kieran.” Ciara tilted her head so the setting light of the sun hit her eyes at just the right angle.

  Evelyn thought the prince couldn’t possibly be fooled by Ciara’s charade. Surely he could see right through her and she thought—hoped—maybe it wasn’t too late for him to change his second selection. But she needed to make haste if she were to sway him from making the worst possible choice of the May Day Five. Evelyn released the prince’s hand and strode over to Siobhan. She brushed off some dirt from her dress and wiped her cheeks clean.

  “Come on. Come forward so he can see you,” Evelyn whispered, pulling her hand.

  Siobhan yanked her arm away and shouted, “This is all your fault!”

  “Shh. No need for that. You must make a good impression.” Evelyn tried grasping for the girl’s hand again to calm her down.

  “What’s the point?” Siobhan said bluntly. “He’s already chosen you.” She pointed to Evelyn’s travel bag.

  All the women stared at the abandoned satchel next to the carriage. Some of the mothers gasped as others began grumbling complaints of the unfairness. Soon the noise level increased to a point where the prince shouted with such intensity that the entire hamlet became still.

  “I’ve made the decision to bring two May Day ladies to Verubri Castle,” he announced.

  “But this is unprecedented!” one of the mothers shouted.

  “Unheard of!” another added.

  Deirdre stood between the women. “The prince can do as he pleases, and he has chosen my Evelyn as one of his ladies-in-waiting. If you have a problem, take it up with him.” With that, she turned and stalked off toward her cottage at the far end of the hamlet.

  The squabbling started up again at the shock of Evelyn being one of the chosen.

  “Surely she’s not equipped!”

  “She is no lady!”

  “You cannot be serious, Prince Kieran.”

  The prince puffed up his chest and brought Evelyn closer to his side. “I am most certainly serious. Originally, I planned to bring back two ladies, but honestly, I’m not sure any of you are worthy of selection. You’re acting like gutter rats clamoring for a piece of cheese.”

  Ciara remained oddly silent at this proclamation, but the other girls defended themselves even louder. The prince raised his hand for them to stop.

  When everyone quieted down, Ciara swooped in like a vulture and spoke in a tone reeking of false humility. “We understand your decision, my lord. You made your choice yesterday. One cannot argue matters of the heart. Evelyn has clearly stolen your affections; who are we to contend such a personal choice. Let me be the first of the May Day ladies to extend our deepest congratulations.”

  Prince Kieran smiled at the raven-haired beauty. “What is your name again?”

  Evelyn noticed a shudder of abhorrence flinch across Ciara’s face. “My lord, I’m Ciara.”

  “Ah, yes. Yes, indeed. Well, dearest Ciara, because you’ve made such an eloquent
attempt at redemption, I’ve decided to bring you as well …”

  A chorus of gasps and cries rose as everyone gaped at Ciara, who stood proudly with her slender shoulders set back and her chin just slightly raised.

  “Yes,” the prince continued, “you will come along to be my Evelyn’s chambermaid.”

  A pale blush crept up Ciara’s delicate neck, turning into harsh red blotches that climbed up to her cheeks. Though she maintained a tight grin, her blue eyes were shooting lasers at Evelyn. As the prince instructed the messenger to grab Evelyn’s bag, Ciara glared at Evelyn and dragged her finger across her throat in an unladylike manner. The gesture sent a chill up Evelyn’s spine. No one else caught the interaction because Ciara was clever and quick.

  “Come along, ladies,” the prince called out, hopping onto his stallion. “Please climb into the carriage. It will be a long and grueling journey through the night and the following day. Best to get started.”

  Ciara’s mother stumbled forward, dragging a trunk toward the carriage. The messenger laughed at the sight of the enormous box, his chubby cheeks jiggling as he did so.

  “What are you laughing at, you fool,” Ciara said rudely. “These are my belongings. It’s your job to get them onto the carriage.”

  “Maybe you don’t know the pecking order, miss,” said the messenger, “but I don’t take instructions from chambermaids. Besides, there’s not enough room for that monstrosity.”

  The prince, now growing impatient, shouted, “Bring only the necessary garments and be done with it! I have everything you’ll ever need at the castle.” Then he blew a kiss to Evelyn. “Until your arrival, my lady.” He whipped his stallion and rode off, passing through the gates of Ocelum.

  The girls climbed up into the carriage and settled in, Ciara placing a stack of folded dresses and her personal items next to her on the seat.

  “You’ll pay for this, goat girl,” she sneered.

  Evelyn stared out the window as the carriage bumped up and down over the dirt road leaving the hamlet. Deirdre stood by the gates, watching her daughter ride off. Evelyn held up her hand, though she knew her mother couldn’t see her from that far away. She was on her own now, traveling great distances to a faraway land to live in a castle. It was something every girl in Ocelum dreamed of and now it was happening. Evelyn felt a heavy thudding in her chest. Of course, it didn’t help that her nemesis sat only a few feet away. But there was something else weighing on her heart. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

  6

  The carriage continued down the dirt path through the forest and both Evelyn and Ciara remained quiet. Only the clunking of the horses’ hooves and the grinding of the wheels upon the hard ground filled the air. The sun dappled through the leaves as the afternoon wore on and soon darkness began to settle through the woods. Evelyn had never been fond of traveling at night, but the prince had made the arrangements and she wasn’t going to argue about his decision making. She already felt as though she were on shaky ground, having been the least likely selection of the May Day females to accompany him to Verubri Castle. There would be no rattling of any cages. Not until she felt more settled and secure, she thought. After all, Evelyn wasn’t one to cower before things that didn’t make sense. She’d spent a lifetime contending with her mother and considered herself an expert in the sport. And wouldn’t the prince admire a woman that stood up for something, rather than falling for anything?

  “What in Galicia’s name are you grinning about, you fool?” Ciara’s sharp voice cut right into Evelyn’s thoughts like a sword.

  “Oh, none of your concern,” she replied.

  “If you think for one second that I’m going to be your chambermaid,” Ciara said with a huff, “well, you really are as silly as those goats you keep.” Then she laughed and turned her gaze outward toward the trees.

  Evelyn ignored the snotty tone and entitlement that spewed from Ciara’s very existence. She knew the only way her enemy would take her place would be by death. A chill shivered over Evelyn’s shoulders and she pulled her cloak tighter around her body to ward off whatever was trying to creep in. She wouldn’t kill me, would she? Just to take my place at the castle … Evelyn cringed at the thought. But as she glanced across at Ciara and watched the girl’s menacing sapphire eyes glinting under the sun’s last rays, she had the resounding realization that Ciara would stop at nothing.

  “Stop staring at me, goat girl,” Ciara snapped.

  Evelyn looked down at her hands and noticed she had been picking at her cuticles, so much so that they were bleeding. Ciara’s slender hands were gloved and placed gingerly atop her lap like a lady. Evelyn was no match for this caliber of elegance. But he chose me, she reminded herself over and over as she placed her hands under her legs to keep from causing any more damage.

  Ciara continued staring out the window as she spoke to Evelyn in her condescending manner. “Once the prince introduces you to the king and queen as well as the court, you won’t be able to hide who you really are, Eve. They’ll get a whiff of the cheese curds and dirt that no scrub brush could ever wash away. And when they get a load of you, they’ll laugh you straight back to Ocelum. Prince Kieran will chuckle and tell them it was all one big ruse to lighten things up around the castle. And then he’ll introduce me, his potential bride to be. You’ll see.”

  Though Evelyn knew Ciara was merely using intimidation tactics to destroy her confidence and break her down, the words stung like lye. What would they think of the simple farm girl who had spent more time with goats than people? No matter how much primping and prepping Evelyn would undergo once she arrived at the castle, the royal court had trained eyes and would see right through the adornments. Evelyn was starting to feel like a pig stuck in mud. She needed to put up a wall to block Ciara’s onslaught before she was nothing but a puddle on the seat.

  With the casualness and sternness she had learned from her mother, Evelyn said, “Can you find it in your heart—that is, if you even have one—to kindly shut your mouth? I’m trying to enjoy the journey and your shrill voice is scraping my bones.”

  Ciara gasped. “My voice is not shrill! I’ve been told I have the timbre of honey.”

  The carriage driver tapped the buggy from where he sat up front directing the horses along the path, and shouted, “I must concur with my lady; your timbre is nothing like honey. It’s more like the caw of a crow.”

  Evelyn tried her best to muffle a laugh. Ciara bit down hard and stared forward as if trying to pierce the driver through the carriage with merely her glare. She was about to unleash a storm of rage, but sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. Ciara might’ve been deplorable and outright evil, but the girl was also shrewd. The driver had already laid down the pecking order once before; another reminder might be considered insolence and that news would make it back to the prince. Perhaps Evelyn wasn’t the only one on shaky ground … Knowing that Ciara would have to at least appear to be on her best behavior gave her great comfort. And with that she settled back against the cushioned seat and relaxed.

  The squeals of the horses’ neighs yanked Evelyn out of her slumber. She sat up, startled and confused by her shadowy surroundings, until she remembered that she was inside the carriage on her way to Verubri Castle. But something wasn’t right. The carriage had stopped.

  “Pillagers,” whispered Ciara, who had jumped across the seat and pressed against Evelyn.

  “What? Where’s the driver?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening. All I heard was shouting for us to halt. And now this.”

  Evelyn pulled back the curtain and peeked through the window to the outside. There she saw the driver being accosted by three men in black, sitting on horses and aiming crossbows.

  “Where are the goods?” shouted one of the men.

  “I’m sorry to break it to you, but I’m not carrying anything of value,” the driver replied.

  The band of men didn’t like that response. The big burly one with more hair than a moun
tain bear growled and released his arrow into the driver so his body slumped off to the side and thunked onto the path.

  “Oh no,” Evelyn muttered.

  Ciara grabbed Evelyn’s sleeve. “What is it?”

  “Driver’s dead.”

  “No! They’re going to kill us. We’re dead. This is awful. How could the prince leave us stranded like this?!” Tears fell from Ciara’s wide, panicked eyes, and Evelyn felt a flash of sympathy for the girl. But only for a moment, because the next second Ciara stupidly opened one of the doors and jumped down out of the carriage. Now she would have to chase after her.

  “Spectacular,” she grumbled and jumped down onto the path.

  “What’s this?” one of the men asked, trotting over on his horse. “The man said there was nothing of value.” He studied Evelyn and swung down off his horse, then began to approach. Of the three, he looked the most well behaved and was even possibly not a complete scoundrel. Perhaps she could reason with this one.

  From behind, she heard Ciara whimpering and cursing as she batted her way through the trees in the pitch black of night. Evelyn knew she wouldn’t get very far. Either she’d trip and fall, or one of the men would snatch her up. So she stood next to the carriage and waited for the “reasonable-looking” man to reach her. As he approached, she considered how to get out of this sticky situation. Did she have anything to use as a weapon? Could she grab the man’s crossbow and take down all three of them? Just as she had predicted, a loud snapping sound issued from the trees, and Ciara released a howl that echoed through the forest.

  The other man—the burly brute with so much facial hair she could barely make out the slits of his eyes—swung his crossbow over his shoulder and jumped down from his horse. He lumbered toward the forest, chuckling to himself and rubbing his chubby palms together. Nausea roiled through Evelyn’s stomach. If she didn’t do something, that beast was going to take advantage of Ciara. She wasn’t fond of the girl, but she didn’t think she should be raped and left for dead.