The King & His Queen (Pict King Series Book 3)

by Donna Fletcher

  “No more though, it is quiet now.” Her voice filled with excitement as her smile spread wide. “This whole area will find peace and happiness once the seedlings start sprouting and blooming. Also, I have given thought to what I can do with that dwelling so that it is not thought of as a place of horror any longer.”

  Verity was pleased to see her sister happy and she did not want to steal that happiness from her, but how could she let Hemera go on thinking this place would remain her home when that would not happen.

  “Hemera, even if you do not wed, you would not remain here. This was meant as a temporary dwelling and due to the harsh snow that was here when you first arrived your stay here was longer than intended. A smaller dwelling would be found for you and this place would go to the next executioner.”

  Hemera seemed to ponder her sister’s words before saying, “Why would another executioner be needed? The King has Anin now. With her ability to know what people feel and think with one touch of her hand certainly would prove far more accurate than torture.”

  “I do not know the King’s reason. I only know what Wrath has told me.” Verity shook her head. “Enough of this talk. Come with me to visit Anin. We will speak of happier things and have a brew while Wrath and Paine are busy at the grievance meeting.”

  “Grievance meeting? That is today?” Hemera asked, not having given it thought since she had no grievance to take to the King...until now.

  “Leave the digging and come with me,” Verity urged.

  “Let me finish what I must and then I will join you.”

  “Please do,” Verity urged again.

  “When I finish,” Hemera assured her and gave her a hug.

  When Hemera could see her sister no more, she shook dirt and debris from her cloak before entering the dwelling, then she quickly washed the dirt from her hands and freshened her face before hurrying off.

  Talon sat at the table in the feasting hall, listening to a litany of complaints from various villagers. Wrath and Paine had come searching for him to let him know that people were already lining up to bring their grievances to him to settle. Wrath suggested that he might want to start earlier than planned or it would be well after dark before he finished.

  Wrath also warned him about taking to the woods alone, reminding him that it was especially dangerous now with an elusive enemy out there who was trying to unseat Talon from the throne.

  “I beg you not to drive me to madness,” Wrath had pleaded. “Take your guards with you when you go, since I know I will not be able to stop you completely from seeking the solace of the woods.”

  “Do you trust me, Wrath?” Talon had asked.

  “It pains me that you should even ask that,” Wrath had said.

  “Then no more needs to be said,” Talon had responded.

  Through it all, Paine had never said a word until they had reached the feasting house. Then he had taken a moment to whisper to Talon, “I trust you, my King, but do you trust the one you met in the forest?” When Talon had sent him a questioning glare, Paine responded, “Yours were not the only prints in the soil.”

  “I know not what to do, my King?” the painfully thin woman standing in front of the table before him asked, wringing her hands.

  While his thoughts had wondered, he still had heard the woman’s plea. Her husband had taken ill recently and was not strong enough to work the land. She had traveled here alone, leaving her husband in the care of their only bairn, a young daughter. It had taken her since the first light of dawn to arrive here on time for the grievance meeting that took place each moon cycle when the moon was the fullest.

  “My daughter helps me tend the animals, but our parcel of land is large and I fear I will not be able to till all the soil and prepare it for planting.” She continued to wring her hands nervously. “If we cannot plant a full field, we will have barely enough to pay our share to the stronghold at harvest and none to keep us fed through the next cold.”

  Talon turned to Ebit, his Crop Master, standing to the side along with the other members of the High Council. “Ebit, send field servants to Ruth and William’s farm to till and plant the seeds.”

  “Forgive me, My King,” Midrent said, stepping forward, “but William and Ruth are already in arrear of payment to the stronghold.”

  Ruth paled and her hands began to shake.

  “Do you suggest I not help them because they have not paid their full tariff?”

  “It is your law, my King,” Midrent said with a bow of his head. “I am here to serve your law.”

  “Wise response, Midrent,” Talon said and turned to Ruth. “Why did you fail to pay your full share?”

  “William takes ill often and I try to do what I can—” Ruth held her tongue as soon as the King raised his hand.

  Whether William was prone to illness or simply lazy, Talon did not know, but with Ruth thin to the point of frailness, it had Talon believing that she was starving herself to keep her family fed.

  “Conor!” he called out and a lad yet to reach the cusp of manhood hurried through the crowd. His mum and da had died, leaving him alone. His da had told him with his dying breath to go to the King that he would see him cared for and that was what he had done, arriving before the snow settled in. “You have a family now. Ruth and William will take you in and you will help work their land.”

  Conor stared at the King a moment before daring to say, “Truly?”

  Talon looked to Ruth.

  With a smile, she reached out and took the lad’s hand. “Truly, Conor. You are the son of Ruth and William now.”

  Conor grinned, looked to the King, and bobbed his head. “I am grateful, my King.”

  Talon turned a warning glare on Ruth. “Hear me well, woman. If I learn that Conor is mistreated in any way, you and your husband will suffer for it.” Talon was pleased that Paine, though no longer his executioner, stepped forward, his threatening presence adding to the warning.

  One look at the double-sided battle axe gripped in Paine’s hand and Ruth paled again. “We will care for him like our own.”

  Talon ordered Ebit to send extra food for Ruth and her family before he dismissed her with a wave and the next person stepped forward. It went on like that for a while, some grievances petty, some difficult, and others mere nuisances. He dispatched each one, some feeling they were treated fairly, others disgruntled, but then he could not please everyone and he had no intentions of trying. His decision was law and the people had no choice but to abide by it.

  The feasting hall was nearly empty, only four villagers left on line, it would not be long before this was done. Talon reached for his vessel, a servant hurrying to fill it for him before he looked over at the next person and was about to give permission for him to speak when he thought he caught sight of fiery red hair sticking out wildly from behind the back of the last man in line.

  He tilted his head slightly to the side and as he did, Hemera eyes peeked at him from behind the man’s one shoulder.

  Talon did not know what she was up to, but he was not happy to see her there on the grievance line. He nodded at the man in front of the line to speak and listened to his complaint while his mind wondered about Hemera. Wrath would see her soon enough, though he would have no recourse. Talon had made it law that anyone could seek a grievance from the King and would not be removed from the line unless the person was causing harm to others. Wrath would only be able to stand there and watch.

  Talon dispatched the man’s complaint with ease and the man after him. That was when Wrath caught sight of Hemera. He appeared ready to step forward when Paine’s hand shot out, stopping him. It was the reminder Wrath needed. He stayed as he was, though the anger in his eyes showed that he was not pleased.

  Hemera stepped forward after the man in front of her took his leave. The feasting hall was nearly deserted, most having left after the King had ruled on their grievances and looking to seek the shelter of the dwelling with dusk settling over the land. She kept a tight rein on her tongue,
eager to speak, but needing to wait for permission from the King to do so.

  While Talon did not care to see her on the grievance line, he was pleased to see her again and that he felt that way annoyed him.

  With a curt tongue, he demanded, “What grievance do you bring to me?”

  “I would like what others have...a permanent dwelling,” she said.

  It was an easy complaint to resolve for Talon. “You will have a permanent dwelling when you wed.”

  Hemera did not plan on arguing. She planned on getting the executioner’s place as her own. “If by chance I do not wed, will you grant me the executioner’s property?”

  “Need I remind you that fate is mine to command,” he said, letting her know she had no choice in the matter.

  “Then what should it matter to grant my grievance?”

  Talon heard the challenge in her tone and he could not let it pass. “The executioner’s property will become your permanent dwelling if you do not wed.” Her lovely face lit with a beautiful smile and he felt his insides tighten not to mention the stirring to his manhood.

  “I am most grateful, my King,” she said with such joy and a clap of her hands, like a bairn who had just received a wonderful gift, that had all the members of the High Council, but Wrath and Paine, smiling with delight.

  Talon stood and walked around the table to stand in front of her, the breadth of him blocking her from being seen by the High Council.

  “Your fate is sealed,” he said for their ears alone.

  She leaned in close, going up on her toes to whisper, “Be careful what you command of fate, she just may give it you.” She stepped back. “My sister waits.” And off she went.

  Annoyance plagued Talon, though he was not sure if it was because she took her leave without waiting for his permission to do so or because her words suggested that he may be sorry he commanded that she wed.

  What annoyed him even more though was that he had the overpowering urge to go after her, scoop her up over his shoulder, carry her off to his sleeping chambers and mate with her again and again and again.

  Talon turned, his strong voice carrying throughout the feasting hall. “Wrath, see that you find Hemera a husband before the moon turns full again!”

  Chapter 8

  The High Council meeting was coming to an end and Talon was not at all pleased with what Gelhard had to report. He had dismissed Ebit and Midrent, both having had little to say which pleased him since it meant things were going well with the crops and tariff. Ebit was busy seeing that the fields were being made ready for seeding. Midrent was busy preparing for the annual tariff collection, which would take place at the Pict Gathering held once every twelve moon cycles when the sun remained longest in the sky.

  Wrath, Paine, and Broc had given their reports but Talon had ordered them to remain. He wanted to know how the hunt for a husband for Hemera was going. It had been several days since his encounter with Hemera at the grievance meeting and he wanted to see this issue resolved immediately. Even more so with what Gelhard had to report.

  “You are telling me that the future queen has fallen ill and will not be able to travel for at least another moon cycle?” Talon asked, perturbed by the news.

  Gelhard gave a quick nod. “Aye, my King.”

  Talon glared and his temper sparked. “Is this woman prone to illness?”

  “Not from what I have been told. Her mother’s mother still lives. She seems to come from strong stock.”

  “Yet she is ill and it will take another moon cycle for her to grow well and journey here.”

  Gelhard’s head jerked in another nod.

  “If she does not arrive as planned this time, she will not be my queen,” Talon decreed.

  “I would not be so hasty to dismiss her, my King. As much as you may not want to hear it, you need this union more than she does.”

  “He is right, my King,” Wrath said, agreeing with the older man. “You cannot wait any longer to wed. To ease the trouble that is brewing amongst the discontent, you should have a queen by your side for the Pict Gathering.”

  “Preferably rounded with child,” Gelhard added.

  What he needed was a wife to distract him from Hemera. Thoughts of her had plagued him relentlessly since their time alone in the woods as did a churning ache to talk with her again, feel her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his arm, and the sweet scent of her drifting over him. Those thoughts troubled him more than the desire to mate with her. Never before had he enjoyed simply speaking with a woman, but then never had a woman challenged him as Hemera did.

  After having agreed to another wager with her, he wondered if he had been too hasty in his decision and that annoyed him all the more. He never questioned his decisions. He was confident in his judgments and never gave thought to them once made. That was not proving true with Hemera.

  He shook his wandering thoughts away and returned his attention to the meeting. He looked from Broc to Paine. “Do either of you have anything to say about this?

  “I agree with Wrath and Gelhard,” Broc said. “Tongues are wagging more often about there being no queen and now with this delay...” He shook his head. “I fear the wagging will increase and not in a good way.”

  Gelhard bobbed his head in agreement, a worried look in his sharp eyes.

  Paine spoke up. “Fate will decide for you.”

  He found himself repeating the words he had said to Hemera. “I command fate.”

  “You command fate for others, not yourself.”

  Talon brought his fist down on the table so hard that it sent it swaying. “You doubt my command?”

  Paine glared at him. “I have always spoken the truth to you whether you liked it or not.”

  Talon could not argue with that. Never had a lie spilled from Paine’s lips. He turned to Gelhard. “She has a moon cycle. If she has not arrived by then...it is in fate’s hands.”

  Gelhard nodded, his eyes sparking, pleased with the King’s decision.

  “Stay, Gelhard, you may be of help with what I have to say,” Talon ordered and Gelhard gladly remained seated as Talon addressed the issue to be discussed. “What progress has been made with finding a husband for Hemera?”

  Broc scratched at the nape of his neck. “Not much interest has been shown.”

  “No one?” the King snapped annoyed. What fool would not step forward to wed a beautiful woman like Hemera?

  “No one I or you would approve of,” Wrath said.

  “Bower has been asking me about Hemera,” Paine said.

  Wrath turned a nodding head on Paine. “Bower is a good man and is a skilled bow maker. He might be a good husband for Hemera. What has he said to you?”

  “He told me he searches for a wife and that Hemera is pleasing to look upon and keeps a good tongue, but others have warned him that she is slow to understand and will be more of a hindrance than of help.”

  “That seems to be the problem with most men. They fear she would understand little of being a wife and mother,” Broc said.

  Paine shrugged. “That is easily solved. I told Bower to speak with Hemera and decide for himself. He agreed.”

  “Why did you not tell me this?” Wrath accused. “You know Verity would want to know of this and prepare her sister.”

  “I only confirmed this with Bower before coming here. Besides, it is better Bower approaches Hemera without her knowing his interest,” Paine argued. “He would come to know her better that way.”

  “How do you know that?” Wrath demanded with a glint of anger.

  Paine retaliated. “I know Hemera better than you, having spent time with her while we were with the Wyse Tribe.”

  “Enough,” Talon ordered with a clipped anger that seemed to accent his every word. “If Bower is the only one showing any interest then let him speak with Hemera, and continue the search.”

  “I may know of a prospect or two that would be interested. Neither lives here in the stronghold. They tend their own crofts. One has n
ever been wed and the other recently lost his wife in childbirth,” Gelhard said.

  Wrath shook his head and spoke up. “Verity would not want her sister living far from her. I would prefer to keep the search confined to the stronghold, at least for now.”

  Gelhard looked to the King, he having the final word.

  “Do as Wrath says. The sisters have been separated enough,” Talon ordered, though wondered if that was the true reason he had agreed with Wrath. That he questioned himself again had his temper igniting even further. “See this done, enough time has been wasted on it.”

  All but Paine nodded. He sat there smiling.

  “Have we heard anything from the warriors sent out to discover the identity of the leader of those who oppose me?” Talon asked.

  Broc, being commander of the King’s warriors answered, “Nothing new. Whoever it is keeps his identity well-hidden and followers loyal. But we keep a good watch. We will find him and put an end to his opposition.”

  A rapid knock at the door had Talon shouting out with annoyance. “Enter!”

  Tilden, one of Talon’s personal guards hastily apologized. “I am sorry for the interruption, but there is a problem in the field and Ebit requests your immediate help.”

  “What kind of problem could Ebit have that requires the King to intervene?” Talon asked more perplexed than annoyed. In all the times Ebit had been Crop Master, he had never requested help from the King when in the field. It seemed incredulous that he should do so now. Until a name popped into his head the same time it spilled from Tilden’s lips.

  “Hemera.”

  Talon stood, bringing the other men to their feet. “The meeting is finished, see to your duties.”

  Wrath kept step with Talon and reached out to snatch both their cloaks off the pegs on the wall before walking out the door.

  Gelhard hurried behind them, though turned away once in the feasting hall to go see to his duties as did Broc once outside. Paine followed a few steps behind the King and Wrath, a slight smile tempting the corners of his mouth.