Maelanthia giggled again. “Zahnduthia, is right. It truly is a good plan. Come inside and have some hot tea, and we will tell you about it.”
“Start talking, or we burn all of you to cinders,” Trikyia said with a frown to Faeswyn, Naihr, and Draeis when they all glared at her.
“Please! Don’t burn us,” cried Maelanthia. “We are only poor old women—”
“I swear, I’ll light this place up! Talk!” Trikyia said as Draeis, Naihr, and Faeswyn continued to stare at the force coming from the teenage girl.
“Balaedras has killed the king,” Maelanthia said with a smirk. “It was necessary.”
“He was in the way. That is what Shahlmach said to us,” Zahnduthia said, standing beside Maelanthia. “And now, he is not.” She laughed.
“But the witches will not be harmed in this war,” Maelanthia continued. “Balaedras promised us. We do not have the numbers that the fairies have. There are only a hundred witches in Ai. We were to find the ones called Draedon, Theoch, Naihr, and Draeis. We are to kill them quick when we do. Rid the queen of their presence. But the fairies threatened us harm if we did not hand the men over to them.”
“Balaedras will be angry,” Zahnduthia said.
“Balaedras will kill us, Maelanthia!” Drothahnia yelled.
“We will kill you,” Faeswyn said, which garnered a nod from Trikyia. “Balaedras wants to start a war with the fairies? The fairies and who?”
“There are thousands of fairies in Ai,” Maelanthia said with a smile.
“Thousands upon thousands,” said Drothahnia.
Maelanthia’s head bobbed again. “The fairies were given free rein to hunt men. The humans will live in fear. The kingdoms will look for help—”
“The smaller kingdoms only, Maelanthia. Remember?”
“That is right, Zahnduthia.” Maelanthia nodded. “Only the smaller kingdoms. The fairies will attack their men, and then the queen will send in her army to defend them. After the fairies are defeated, Balaedras will have the kingdoms fall under her control. It is ingenious, it is.”
“A fuckin’ fairy war? Are you kidding me?” Naihr said.
“She’s killed Gaeldos,” Faeswyn said, holding up one finger. “She’s enlisted the witches to find”—she glanced over at the witches in the doorway of the hut—“you-know-who. So yeah, her next step is to take over the smaller kingdoms like—shit—like Drisa, Ja’Kahl, and Jroan. Once she gets them, she’ll have enough men to increase her army, and then wage the war she wants on the larger kingdoms.”
“And we thought Gaeldos was fucked in the head,” Draeis said.
Trikyia took a match from her pocket. Faeswyn grabbed her hand. “No. Don’t. We don’t have to kill them.”
Trikyia snatched her hand away. “They’re witches, Faeswyn. They might not kill us, but they will kill someone else if we let them go.”
“And what if we don’t kill them? Having witches on our side might be useful,” Draeis said, joining the rest of them in the discussion.
Maelanthia walked out from the hut. The rest of them were still in discussion when Faeswyn noticed the old hag had left the security of the hut along with Zahnduthia. The hairs on the back of her neck rose, telling her that something was about to happen. That feeling she’d had from the moment they’d started off for Yaesdrah. The feeling she’d had since she’d been held captive in the hut. In the next second, the two witches had flanked them, and Faeswyn knew they had been led to feel a false sense of security.
Trikyia glanced at Faeswyn, and in the next instant tracer fire rang out into the clearing as Trikyia shot the witch Zahnduthia, ducking under the noxious plume of breath she’d tried to unleash on her, making the others scatter away.
“Run!” yelled Trikyia. “It’s a trap!” Trikyia shot again, and the tracer found its mark on the witch Drothahnia as she’d changed her form and tried to launch herself at Draeis. Faeswyn kicked out at the witch, sending her tumbling to the ground, and the cloud of putrid stench missed Draeis, even as the tracer’s laser shot through Drothahnia.
Naihr took hold of Faeswyn’s hand and they began to run up the short hill, with Draeis following close behind. Faeswyn turned to see Trikyia aiming the tracer at Maelanthia in the clearing.
“We need to go back to help Trikyia,” she said, breathing hard as they stood on the knoll of the hill. She looked back to where Trikyia and Maelanthia were facing off. Suddenly, Maelanthia scrambled toward Trikyia on all fours, which was strange and more than a little unnerving to see. But Trikyia performed a backflip, shooting at Maelanthia in midair, and landing with finesse as the witch lay dead on the ground. “Or…um…maybe not.”
Trikyia ran up the hill to them. “What are you waiting for? Let’s get home.”
Trikyia led the way in front, staying alert to any fairies that might have been alerted. Once back at the car, Faeswyn got into the back with Naihr, while Draeis drove them back to the farm. She was surprised to see how close they had been to being home before the witches had taken her. She stayed snuggled in Naihr’s arms as Draeis occasionally reached back to touch her leg reassuringly.
Once home, Faeswyn stood in front of the house hugging Trikyia in gratitude. “I don’t know how you did what you did, but I’m glad that you did it. You are a force to be reckoned with, lady.”
Trikyia smiled broadly. “That’s the first time that anyone’s called me anything but a girl or a child.”
“If they could have seen you out there,” Faeswyn said, kissing Trikyia on the cheek, “they would know you aren’t a girl or a child. My mother used to tell me that there were two things that make a girl into a woman. Age and experience. You’ve destroyed both of those things.”
Draeis was standing to the side speaking into the TCD Trikyia had brought, telling Glaeonawyn that they were all safe. He nodded, handing the small, button-sized device to Trikyia.
“Yes, Nana. I’m fine. We’re all safe. I’ll make my way home now.” She continued to say yes, until she finally put the TCD away in her pocket. “Nana told everyone I was helping Faeswyn with her slugs. So… I guess I should be heading home.”
Faeswyn hugged her again. Trikyia seemed surprised when Draeis and Naihr hugged her also. They all watched her run across the field toward Glaonawyn’s, feeling a little safer that the young girl was in their world.
Chapter Fifteen
Balaedras stood by the dais in her black mourning gown. It had been three days since Gaeldos’ death. And following the royal tradition, he was mourned and cremated within two days’ time. Balaedras had played the part of the sorrowful widow, accepting condolences from neighboring kingdoms. Kings and queens from all over Ai had come to the funeral, and were now staying for the coronation of Balaedras as the supreme ruler of Teveoch. That is, a few neighboring rulers had come. Absent were the rulers of Valwithia, Yaeltaran, Drisa, and Zinvia, for which she understood, since they all loathed Gaeldos when he was alive.
But now she was to speak to her people on Tru-View. Her people, she thought. The pitiful, ignorants that comprised the fucked up population she now ruled. They were content to accept anything Gaeldos shoved down their throats as long as they were allowed to have their cars, their businesses, and their wealth. They believed in the supposed sacred text of the ancients. Believing everything in life had purpose, or was foretold to be. Balaedras was forced to believe in the ancients since she was a young girl, going to the clearing with her parents. She was supposed to accept what was in that book without question. But she never had. She could definitely put on a good show for those that did. It was one thing to secretly shun a belief that millions upon millions believed in, it was another to openly show your disdain as a ruler of a realm that held such beliefs as fact.
She would show the people that she believed in the ancients, smiling and waving to them all as she went to the clearing every Seventhday. But she held a belief in something more tangible. Power.
“Your highness, they’re ready for you now,” a woman with oliv
e complexion and ornately braided hair said.
“Yes, thank you. You’re Quindulahr, aren’t you?”
Quindulahr bowed deeply in front of Balaedras. “Yes, your highness.”
Balaedras nodded. “You were appointed by the king, were you not?” Quindulahr nodded, and then bowed again. “Oh. That is a pity.” She nodded to a guard, turning her back so she didn’t have to actually see Quindulahr’s execution.
That morning, she’d held a special meeting of her new cabinet. In that cabinet were several of her special guards. Guards that were to carry out her orders without question, and that were only loyal to her and not the kingdom. They always have been.
So she knew as she walked down the short corridor to where her address was to be broadcast, her execution orders were being carried out throughout the kingdom. She sat in a large chair poised behind a regal desk, and stared intently into the lens as she spoke.
“People of Teveoch. I come to you with sad news,” Balaedras gave the best beleaguered expression she could, considering her feelings toward Gaeldos. And even as she took a deep sigh, and stared into the lens of the camera, those that had been on Gaeldos’ court, his personal counselors, his coveted concubines, his physician and cooks, everyone and anyone that was connected to Gaeldos that she felt would raise inquiry were being executed.
“As you know, King…” She took a hard swallow, which she thought was a good touch. “King Gaeldos died in my arms last Secondday. His heart gave out, but I assure you the governing of the kingdom will continue. I, Queen Balaedras of Teveoch, according with the royal law and degreed through the text of the ancients”—she held her head high at the camera—“will reign and rule by order of Calavanthor Decree.”
She knew no one would challenge her reign by mentioning the antiquated decree in the book of ancients that states that in the event of the death of a ruling king or queen, their spouse automatically gains rule. It was to prevent any petty challenges for the crown from children or long lost relatives, unless it was written into the succession text by the ruler themselves. It was to maintain familiarity for the people. It hadn’t been used in over two hundred years. Mostly due to the stupidity of those in power to actually open the fuckin’ book of ancients and read through it once in a while. And while Balaedras shunned the ancients and all the book stood for, she had found something very useful within the pages.
“But our beloved king was not all he made himself out to be,” Balaedras continued. “I have only recently been informed of an unimaginable lie.” She swallowed hard again, and showed an effort to compose herself. “King Gaeldos was not born of royal blood. His real name was Goag from Gindisial in the kingdom of Valwithia. His father’s name is unknown. But he perpetrated the perfect lie, and lived it for years unbeknownst to me, many in the royal court, and to the citizens of Teveoch. Of course, no one could ever wish of the death of our king, but I am afraid that his actions up until his death has put the kingdom in danger, and because of his death, I may be able to lessen the impact of those actions.”
She paused to allow it all to sink into the ignorant brains of the people of Teveoch before she continued. “In the past few weeks, King Gaeldos had entered into arrangements with certain supernatural beings. Wind witches and glaon fairies. I have no idea why. Those reasons are lost with his death. But because of his…affiliations, the kingdom has been put into a dangerous position. As you may well know, once glaon fairies willingly gain entrance into a kingdom…once they’ve”—she sighed—“killed…they will return. The royal guards have reported one such death. Morhais has now become a part of the fairies’ hunting ground,” she lied. “I have to protect my people. There will be a coronation tomorrow in the royal palace. After that time, I will enact a curfew on Morhais strictly for safety reasons. All citizens of Morhais will be in their homes by eight o’clock in the evening. Only emergency personnel will be allowed on the streets after that time to ensure the security of Morhais. This is only for the safety of the citizens of Morhais against those that will try to harm us. Now,” she said, sitting straighter in her seat.
Gone was the soft, concerned expression she held before. They had called her meek, and stupid. They had all thought she was Gaeldos’ shadow queen. The invisible queen, they had called her. She would show them all that she was no one’s puppet. She was no meek, timid, naïve woman many thought she was. She would show them all.
“Because of the increased security needed in Teveoch, taxes will be increased by ten percent. The registration for marriage imposed by King—” She lowered her gaze and seemed to think about what she was about to say. “—by the former ruler will be continued, but not for registration for marriage. I have learned that a Mocmoran woman may have been impregnated by the former ruler. If that is so, she may try to claim the crown in the name of the child. I am sure that knowing your king was not as he had claimed, ruling without royal blood, distresses you all as it distresses me. Therefore, I must find these women and these children to assure no claim can be made by false rulers without royal blood. All Mocmoran women will be subjected to the registry. At the time of registration, it will be determined if they’ve had any children, and those children will be tested to determine paternity.” She smiled pleasantly. “This is only to prevent those fathered by Goag, or Gaeldos, as he was known, from any claim to the throne.”
That much was true. She didn’t want any of Gaeldos’ whores laying claim to the throne with one of his bastards. But it was much more than that. She didn’t believe in the ancients, but many did. If they thought for one moment that there was a child bearing the mark of the true ruler of Ai, it wouldn’t matter if they had royal blood or not. They would place that child on the throne. She had to stamp out that possibility now. She smiled into the cameras, assuring the citizens of the realm that those found with the DNA of the late king would sign a waiver to any claim. That was all. They wouldn’t be executed, she assured them all, as she’d planned to do. It was all precautionary. She needed to erase anyone and everything that was connected to Gaeldos.
“Unfortunately, there will be some of you who believe you can refuse the registry,” she said, looking directly into the camera. “I assure you, there will be strict and undeniable punishment for doing so.” Yes, she thought. They will be put to death. She had to show strength. She also wanted to show everyone that she was not the meek, timid queen they all had thought.
“The citizens of Teveoch are my main priority. Your safety, and the safety of our kingdom will take precedence over all else. That being said, I will deal harshly with any threats to the kingdom and to my throne. These rules I have enacted will be for that purpose. Along with the curfew, and the new and improved registration, all men between the ages of seventeen to thirty, regardless of family status, will register for service in the Teveoch army. This population will be trained, requiring up to seven months at a training camp in the northern region of the kingdom. This is necessary if…” She shook her head sadly, which she’d practiced for the perfect effect. “No. When the fairies attack, the royal guards will be needed to protect the capital, and its people. The Teveoch military will be needed to protect my citizens. But we have more pressing details to tend to. Tomorrow is a day for jubilation,” she said, smiling brightly. “The coronation of your new queen. Schools will be closed for this day, as well as many businesses. The citizens of Teveoch will have a minimum of six months for each head of household to come to Morhais to pay homage to their new queen. With that, I leave you.”
She sat waiting for the production crew to leave. She sat in silence at the desk until the captain of her royal guard approached her.
The guard bowed low, and then snapped to attention. Balaedras stared unwavering at her. “You may speak.”
“All is done, your highness.”
Balaedras smiled. She finally stood and walked out of the room. They were all dead. She smiled at the thought. Thirty years. It had taken her thirty years to finally have what she felt was deserved. Gaeldos had kill
ed her father. She was pretty sure he had something to do with the death of her lover. She was almost positive he had killed her beloved handmade. She’d been made to raise his bastard son as her own. She had endured years of taunts and ridicule from his court and from the people of Morhais. “No more,” she said as she walked into her apartment. Gaeldos was dead. His cabinet, his whores, and all that were affiliated with him were now dead.
She stood in front of the mirror on the wall by the hallway. She smiled, smoothing her gown in front of her. “And I’m the fuckin’ queen.”
Chapter Sixteen
Faeswyn handed Naihr the last dish, wiping around the counter as he dried it. It was a few days after they’d come back from battling the witches and fairies. And although they all thought things would return to normal, Faeswyn continued to feel that something was wrong. It was a feeling running down the center of her back that told her to be on guard. Maybe she was hyperanxious because of what had happened with the witches and fairies, but as a vaedra, she learned never to dismiss anything she felt.
Naihr glanced over at her as she tried to busy herself with nothing at all, dabbing at the counter with the wet cloth she held in her hand.
“Stop, babe.”
She turned from the counter to stare at Naihr. “I’m trying. I am, but something feels…different. Off, or maybe strained.”
He frowned at her. “Between us?”
She saw the worry etched on his face. “Oh, no babe. Never.” She snuggled into his arms as he closed the distance between them, pulling her close to him.
“I know something that might help get your mind on other things,” he said with a soft smile. “Draeis and I have something we need to talk to you about.”
She smiled at him while he led her into the living room. “Does this conversation involve me taking my clothes off?”
“It might,” he said, smiling back to her. “Eventually.”
Faeswyn [The Maidens of Mocmoran 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 14
