by Heidi Hanley
“I know, but can I please just have a few minutes to myself to process all this.”
He surveyed the lengthening shadows in the forest. “Ten minutes, and then we need to move.”
He and Epona moved far enough away to give her a sense of privacy, yet close enough to aid her if needed. She tucked the precious seeds into a hidden pouch in her trousers. The gnomes had thought of everything. No one would find them there. She sat on a mossy stump and Dara laid his head on her lap. Closing her eyes, she called Silas.
Middle of the day you’re callin’ me? I hope nothin’s wrong.
I’m a faerie princess. I went to Evalon and met a faerie and she explained my ancestry and how I’m meant to help bring peace and cooperation between the faerie realm and Uisneach. She described the day’s travels to him, the party and the gift of faerie tree seeds, ending with, Can you believe it, Silas? You’ve kissed a princess.
Well, princess or not, it was the best moment of me life, so far. You will make both Evalon and Uisneach proud, a mhuirnin. Where are you, anyway?
Oh, not too far from Ratskillen, but Sigel is on a tear to get there and this little side trip cost us time, so I best go. I’ll tell you tonight how we make out in Ratskillen. Bye.
Quiet ruled for an hour until Briana decided she’d had enough of it. “I love being on the road.”
Epona smiled, and Sigel made an undecipherable noise. Jonathan rode tall on Andromeda, never taking his eyes off Briana or the road and scenery around them, his hand glued to the small blade at his side. Briana studied him, wondering about his background and what it was that made him so determined to be her guard. As much as she hated thinking about her destined role as Queen of Uisneach, she supposed she was blessed with such dedicated people at her side. If these three were any indication of the quality of people who would defend Uisneach’s interest, then Uisneach was in good hands. She only hoped its leader was of the same caliber.
“Are we getting close to Ratskillen?” The words had barely left her lips when three horses cantered around the bend of the road with unfamiliar men atop them. They pulled up in front of Sigel aggressively, weapons purposely visible. They were not Gray Military, but they could be brigands, so she and her companions put hand to hilt. Briana was immediately encircled by her protectors.
“State your business,” one of the men, the larger of the two, demanded roughly.
Apparently, Sigel knew who they were. “I am Lord Marshall Sigel. We journey to Ard Darach. We’re looking for a place to spend the night. Captain O’Rourke will be expecting us. You may stand down and welcome your future queen.”
Their demeanor changed swiftly as they bowed respectfully to Briana.
“Why the armed greeting, friend?” Sigel asked.
“The Grays are about,” the smaller man informed them. “There was a skirmish to the north yesterday. No one injured, but they got away and today, a troop of about ten men has been spotted along the river. We’re putting together our own force now.”
“Let us see milady settled and we’ll come and meet you and your men,” Sigel said.
They nodded but before turning to leave, the older, brawnier man urged his horse a step forward, toward Briana. Jonathan’s sword flashed a warning and the man raised his hand peaceably.
“I appreciate your position, sir, but I only mean to express our greetings to milady and assure her, and you, that while you are in Ratskillen, we’re at your service. You will be safe here.”
Jonathan lowered his weapon and Briana responded. “We are grateful to you, sir.”
Scores of people materialized from the houses and shops along the main lane through town, hoping to see the Mouse of Prophecy. Dara was, once again, a big attraction for the children, who petted and teased the big dog unmercifully. Ever the ambassador, he accepted the attention patiently, with an occasional sloppy lick or cheerful bark. Ratskillen was a much larger community than Derryfeeny or even Moiria, so it took a while to get from one end of the village to the other. Old men sat on benches in front of their shops smoking pipes, mothers shouted at errant children and vendors hawked their wares. Two young lovers hid behind a tavern sign wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying a passionate kiss. There was a tavern for every dozen buildings. Briana wondered why they’d been sent to the Seven Hearths Inn specifically. Sigel told her it was because that was the largest lodging in Ratskillen, the only one with rooms enough to put them up. Briana smiled, waved and spoke to the villagers, feeling like a bit of a rock star, until they reached the inn. Jonathan jumped off Andromeda and stood beside Briana, ready to assist her off Banrion. She graciously took his outstretched hand.
They were received by the oddest-looking woman she’d ever seen. Mrs. Thacker was not much taller than the gnomes, and twice as wide. Her hair, a wild mass of every possible color in the book, looked like she’d done a few jolts of electricity. Her eyes were different colors, one light blue, the other a mix of emerald and amber. Her nose, likely broken more than once, splayed out over her face. Surprisingly, she had the most beautiful mouth, full of shockingly white and perfect teeth. She appeared to roll, rather than walk, at an alarmingly fast rate, shouting orders as she bustled around the place. She stopped long enough to be introduced to Briana and the men, then ordered a tall, lithesome girl to show them their rooms.
Sigel allowed Briana only enough time to wash up. She quickly re-secured Nua to her baldric, tucked errant wisps of hair behind her ear and stood straight. Time to act queenly, she coached herself.
Captain O’Rourke and his local militia of about twenty men was gathered in the tap room, which was lit only by candles. It was a raucous group as the men, attended to by a handful of serving girls hustling about with ale and bread, were doing their best to out-joke, out-lie and out-laugh one another. Talk ceased the moment Briana walked into the room, and all eyes focused on her.
She curtsied and smiled, taking her place next to Sigel at the head of the table. Jonathan sat next to her. Dara tucked himself between the two. Epona sat next to Sigel.
“We should send scouts to keep an eye on Shamwa’s army, instead of going after the prime minister directly,” Captain O’Rourke said.
“Agreed,” Sigel said. “Defend rather than go on the offensive. You hold them back and we’ll sneak Lady Briana out under the cover of night.”
“A contingent could go toward the Plains of Leanach to throw him off track.”
Sigel nodded. “Excellent idea.”
“When you’re on your way, we’ll send the rest of the companies to hold a line between yourselves and Long River.”
“Lady Briana,” said Mrs. Thacker in a husky voice, “please allow me to serve your supper. We have a delightful roast beef and roasted potatoes.”
Watching the serving girls make their way around the tables with food for the other men, Briana smiled. “It smells delicious. Thank you, Mrs. Thacker.”
Sigel and Jonathan were already swallowing their first mouthful when she bit into the succulent beef. Her unqueenly noise of appreciation elicited an agreeable chuckle around the table. Wasting no time, she tucked into the potatoes and fresh bread with gusto.
“I appreciate a queen with a healthy appetite,” Captain O’Rourke said.
Briana paused in her chewing. Maybe I’m supposed to eat like a bird. Deciding it was a kind and not critical expression, she relaxed. She swallowed the bite, then said, “It would be foolish not to enjoy such a fine meal after a long day of travel.”
Heavy, fruit-laden cake with cream completed the meal. “Well, if we don’t eat for another couple of days, I think I’ll be fine.”
Mrs. Thacker grinned at the offhand compliment and started to pour more ale in her cup. Putting a hand up to stop her, Briana said, “No, please, Mrs. Thacker. There is no more room in my belly.”
“Not to mention there won’t be any time to sleep it off,” Sigel said, drily. “Mind checking the map once more?”
She pulled it out and scanned for new activity. There was
an obscure vibration due north, nothing specific. Briana frowned and showed it to Sigel. It had no shape, no usual markers of Shamwa or Gray Military, but it was troubling.
“I’ll send some men to scout,” Captain O’Rourke said, rising from his chair.
Sigel nodded. “Advise me of any concerns. Briana, let’s get you upstairs for a few hours of sleep. Jonathan, you, too. I’ll be right outside your door, Briana.”
“I can have one of my men post watch, Lord Marshall, so you can rest, too.”
“I’d prefer to stay awake until I’m certain all is well.”
The groups dispersed and Briana was escorted to her room. Dara stretched out on the floor beside her and was snoring within seconds. Stripping off her pants, she lay on the bed in her tunic, blew out the single candle beside the bed, pulled a blanket over her and curled on her side. She imagined Silas’ arms around her, holding her as she slept. Did she really feel a warm weight settle around her?
An abrupt knock jolted her awake. Sigel entered, holding a candle. “Briana, you need to get up and dress. We’ve got to leave now. There’s a fairly large group of Shamwa’s men just outside of town. We need to get going. Jonathan’s getting the horses.” He didn’t bother to leave as she threw back the blanket and slid into her pants. He handed Nua and her shield to her.
“Ready,” she said, trying to update Silas telepathically as Sigel was giving her the information.
Be careful, a mhuirnin, and keep me posted.
I will.
Lifting her pack, she followed Sigel out of the Seven Hearths and leaped atop Banrion, who stood waiting in the dark. A stiff wind had developed along with the earthy scent of impending rain. None of this bode well for their chances of getting to Long River without incident, but staring at Epona and Sigel’s back and knowing Jonathan Stark would give his life to protect hers, she felt prepared and secure. At Sigel’s command, they followed the road out of Ratskillen and into a dark forest.
Chapter Twenty-six
Aurum Castle
Ominous rolls of thunder and a moon obscured by clouds threatened to complicate their journey, though Sigel knew the trail even in the dark.
“I wish we could see what’s happening on the map,” Sigel said.
“Hold up a minute,” she said, unrolling the map. Shutting everything out of her mind but the blankness before her, she smiled when a firefly-like light began to glow around the map. Her smile faded when nothing close to clarity followed. Some kind of glamour vibrated over the map, confusing the images. She shook her head. “What is that?”
“No idea,” Sigel replied, frustrated. “There’s no choice but to move on. Stay alert. Anything could happen.”
Jonathan instinctively moved closer to one side of her and Epona bumped knees with her on the other. She heard the sound of metal sliding out of leather.
Carefully tucking the map in its pouch, she followed Sigel into the dark unknown. Animals felt the coming storm and hunkered down. An eeriness stole over her. “Are you okay, Mr. Stark?”
“Fine, milady. Don’t worry about me.” A hint of nervousness belied his bravado.
Nua started bumping forcefully against her leg. Odd, she thought, glancing down at the sword. She released the strap to pull the sword out. Suddenly, she became woozy. She tried calling out to Sigel but the words wouldn’t form. No matter, he slumped over Orion’s neck. Dara dropped motionless beside her. Paralyzed, she couldn’t even turn to check on Jonathan and Epona. Nua slipped out of her hand. No, she thought desperately. Her vision narrowed as though she were seeing everything through a spyglass.
Out of the darkening tunnel, a man appeared, dressed in a long brown robe with a cowl neck. A common, not-so-monstrous face peered out through the hood, and she knew this was the druid, Artanin. He moved with purpose toward her. Beside him, a small, rugged-looking man in a dirty tunic and woolen breeches fiddled with a rope.
Briana could only watch in fear and anger as the man picked her up and carried her off into the woods, where two horses waited. She was unceremoniously dumped over the saddle of the smaller man’s horse. He swung up behind her. With a vicious kick to the horse’s ribs, they raced off. Not one word was spoken; the sound of silence was overwhelming and otherworldly. Forcing her mind to focus, she did the only thing she could in her state of physical incapacitation.
Silas, help, she thought, as she succumbed to oblivion.
*
Gold. The room was bathed in shades of gold with splashes of red and black. Not elegant, like Winge Mansion. Garishly extravagant, very nouveau riche. A solid gold chandelier lit the room, still shadowed by early morning. The fireplace was surrounded by gilded stonework etched with black writing in an unfamiliar language. Empty gilt vases sat on shiny golden tables. An ornate desk and chair stared at her from across the room. The lounging chair she reclined on was gold and red silk. A heady, musky scent perfumed the room, sensual and dizzying in its excess. She rubbed at her temples, aching from what? The smell? The heat? Effects of the enchantment? Was she hit on the head? Not feeling any bumps or bleeding, she decided on a combination of those factors. Her throat was dry. She looked longingly at a golden goblet of red wine sitting just outside her reach.
“Ah. You’re awake,” a smoky voice said. “Welcome to Aurum Castle.”
Lord Shamwa’s castle. Briana tensed. Drawing on every ounce of queenliness she learned at Winge Mansion, she said, “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Lady Isabella would be proud. “I’m Lady Briana.”
“Hardly necessary to tell me,” he responded wryly, “but since you insist, Lord Shamwa, Prime Minister of Uisneach.” He accented the title as he bowed over her hand and kissed it.
The warmth and gentleness of his lips on her skin were confusing. How could this guy be such a bastard?
Whatever she imagined Lord Shamwa to look like, it was not this. Herculean arms crossed a broad chest covered in a red silk shirt and jacket, open at the neck. Honey-blonde hair hung in feathery layers to his shoulders. Crystal-blue eyes scrutinized her. Someone should have warned her that evil can lurk behind a facade of beauty, that it could be extraordinarily sexy. She needed a moment to adjust.
He sat in a chair near a balcony door. When her eyes traveled to the possible route of egress, he leaned over and jiggled the locked door handle. “Locked. Sorry, my lady,” he said, his expression showing nothing akin to sympathy. She met his stare and was struck by the intelligence and intensity projecting from his face. However, behind the mask of desirability lurked a coldness; his smile lacked authenticity and failed totally to reach his eyes.
He stood and moved toward her with stallion-like grace. Of course he had long, strong legs. Picking up the goblet, he held it out to her.
“It’s not poisoned,” he assured her.
This was a man against whom a sword would be useless, not that she had one. She vaguely recalled Nua dropping to the ground. Intuition told her she needed to be as cool with him as he was with her. She must offer no threat, rather, the hint of understanding and collaboration. He would appreciate interest and respect. Having little of this for him made things challenging, but she would put on her own mask and play her part.
Briana smiled and accepted the cup.
Maker, protect me from danger in this wine, she prayed, and took a sip. It tasted divine and eased her parched throat. Shamwa sipped from another goblet.
“Lovely home,” she said.
“Thank you. It’s… comfortable.”
He continued watching her but offered little in the way of engaging discussion.
“Well then,” she said, refusing to be intimidated, “you’ve kidnapped me and I assume you hold some purpose in mind. Shall we get to the point?”
His lips parted in a restrained smile. “If you like. The point, milady, is that you have been misguided about, well about everything, and I intend to enlighten you. Perhaps when you know the truth, you will see another way of leading Uisneach forward.”
“I
f it involves beating up women, burning down the homes of innocent people and practicing treason against your king, I assure you, my 1ord, you will have a hard sell.”
“What can I say? Sometimes progress is messy.”
“You call what you’ve done to this kingdom progress? I fail to understand your methods or your reasons, but by all means, do try to enlighten me.”
He cocked his head and his smile widened. “You know, I think I like you. Direct, daring and a bit cocky. I honestly hope I don’t have to kill you.”
She made a rude noise.
Cerulean eyes flashed a warning. “Now, now, none of that.” He continued after a moment, eyes calm again. “Are you hungry? I could have my servant,” he looked toward a corner of the room, “prepare us a light meal.”
She followed his gaze to a bundle in the corner near the fireplace, a gnomish creature wrapped in a shawl. Briana couldn’t tell its gender or age, but she could see the fear in its eyes. Briana gave Shamwa a disgusted look. “I’m not hungry. What do you want from me?”
“I just want you to hear me out and decide for yourself what’s best for Uisneach. I’m sure they’ve convinced you King Brath’s way is the only way, but I offer another perspective.”
She looked out the balcony doors just as the sun was rising over the Dromdara Plains. Fatigue begged her to close her eyes, but there was not the time for that. She had to pay attention and think about possibilities for escape. She knew roughly where Aurum Castle was on the map. The map! Her hand automatically felt at her side for the pouch. Gone! He couldn’t use it, but she would need it when she escaped. Surveying the room for possible clues to its location, she settled on the desk. It must be in there. Shamwa’s mild chuckle told her she’d been too obvious. She adjusted her position on the recliner. “I’m listening.”
The prime minister paused as though thinking about where to start.
Briana, where in Maker’s name are you?
Sitting in the salon of Aurum Castle, getting ready to hear Lord Shamwa’s side of things.
