“What did you do?” Sam asked, almost afraid to hear the reply.
“I picked her up and threw her out of the window.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it took Sam a moment to take in exactly what he had said.
“Hang on a minute. Don’t you live in trees?” He nodded. “God,” she exclaimed. “Was she badly hurt?”
“Unfortunately not. A bush broke her fall sufficiently to prevent any serious damage. I had always longed to travel so I packed my bag and walked out. As I passed her trying to disengage herself from the bush she vowed that she would tell my father that I attacked her. I have not been home since.” Brin fell into a depressed silence.
“How long ago was this?” Sam asked.
“A little over two years. I had not left the forest long when I met Cirren and decided to join him in his quest. I have been travelling ever since.”
“Have you had word from your homeland at all? Do you know if your stepmother said anything to your father?” The elf shook his head. “He may not have believed her and she is here because he kicked her out.” Even as she said it she realised that even she did not believe this was likely.
“You do not know my stepmother.” The bitterness had returned.
“So what do you plan to do? Go home and confront your family or keep running?” It sounded like an accusation and Sam instantly regretted her tone of voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“It is alright,” Brin assured her. “I do not know yet. I thought I would spend the evening getting drunk and make the decision in the morning.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me.”
They spent the next few hours getting slowly intoxicated, ending up reminiscing about their past lives and the good times they had before getting involved with the quest. Eventually they staggered back to the palace. Thankfully they met Hawk, who had been sent out to find them, as they were heading in the wrong direction. Brin was practically carrying Sam so Hawk picked her up, cradling her like a baby. The guards had been warned to keep an eye out for them and they were escorted to the rooms that had been put aside for their use.
The next morning Sam woke up with a groan. Her head felt like it was being pounded with a pneumatic drill and it took all of her effort to grab the bowl that someone had thoughtfully placed beside her bed before she emptied the entire contents of her stomach into it.
“Was it something you ate?” River asked innocently, suppressing a grin. She was perched on the end of Sam’s bed, waiting for her to wake up.
“Go away and let me die in peace,” Sam snarled. The sprite laughed, jumped off the bed and ran from the room, making sure she shut the door behind her as quietly as possible. Tor was standing outside, looking concerned.
“How is she?”
“Awake, but severely hung over.”
“Thank you River,” he said before boldly striding into the room. He took one look at Sam, who was hiding her head under a pillow, and a sympathetic look crossed his face. He could remember being in that state many times in the past. “Care to talk about it?” he asked.
“I’m a bit busy dying right now.”
“No, you are not. What were you drinking last night?”
Sam tried to sit up and failed. “I have no idea.”
“Can I ask why you decided to drink so much?”
“Ask Brin. I was just keeping him company.”
“I tried. He refuses to say anything.” He was about to leave the room when he looked back at her. “I will have some bread rolls and water sent up. Experience has told me that it will help.”
Just as the door was closing, Sam called after him. “How is he?”
“He is in about the same condition as you, though you do look a little greener.” It took her a moment for her brain to work out what he had said.
Throwing her pillow at him she shouted, “You bastard,” and instantly regretted it as sharp pains shot through her head. She sank back onto the bed and listened to Tor’s fading laugh as he closed the door behind him.
Later that day, while Brin and Sam were still recovering in their rooms, Tor spent some time alone with Queen Helen. Fuzzle had announced that they would not be permitted to visit Kaylin’s altar that day so everyone else was using their unexpected free time to explore the city. Even Bellak had been persuaded to leave the palace and spend the day sight-seeing.
As soon as the official business for the day had been conducted, Helen took Tor by the arm and had him escort her on a tour of the gardens. She took great delight in explaining how she had helped with some of the planting. ‘She really is still a child’ Tor thought to himself. They ended up in a sunroom where tea and cakes were delivered. As they ate, they reminisced about their childhood.
“Helen,” Tor said once he was sure there were no servants within earshot. “This has got to stop.”
“Tor dear, whatever are you talking about?” Her voice was sickly sweet.
“Stop playing games. You are a Queen, it is about time you started acting like one.” He deliberately made his voice gruff, hoping to grab her attention. She pouted then stuck her tongue out.
“Grow up Helen,” he growled.
“Why? I get what I want this way.”
His reply never left his lips as a suspicious thought crept through his mind. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.
She stood up regally and her whole manner changed. She instantly transformed from a spoilt overgrown child to the ruler she was supposed to be. Looking down at Tor she asked, “Can you remember when the three of us used to play, you me and my brother?”
“Of course. We always did our best to get away and play by ourselves, but you used to cry and throw temper tantrums until we let you join in. Then we had to play whatever you wanted, instead of what we did.”
“Things have not changed.”
Tor stared at her incredulously. “Are you telling me this is all an act?”
She pretended to think about the answer for a while. “Yes. After the accident everyone treated me with kid gloves. If I as much as looked sad they would all go out of their way to cheer me up. As time went by I realised that all I had to do was cry and the whole household was jumping to get me whatever I wanted. Then, when the official mourning period was over and I was allowed to start holding my own court, I decided to try the same tactic.”
Tor was stunned. “I should have realised. Does Fuzzle know?”
“Of course not. She is the one I use it on most. She does not realise that I actually received most of the training that my brother was subjected to. Usually the tutors would allow me to listen in and when they did not he always filled me in on what I missed. I am more qualified to run this country than most of the so called advisors that Fuzzle turns to when I suggest anything. If they say ‘No’ without good reasons, I simply sulk until they all agree to do as I asked. Not a very satisfying way of doing things but at least I am accomplishing what I need to.”
“So what about Patrick? Do you really intend to marry him if he does not escape again?”
“Good heavens no. Patrick is a wonderful person to be around, but only for short periods of time. Being married to him would drive me insane. I know his reputation, which is well earned by the way. He made a good diversion for Fuzzle; she is dying to get me married off.”
“Only because she thinks you need a man to look after you.” Tor sighed. “Tell her the truth Helen, please. The stress and worry is making her ill.”
“Are you sure?” The trace of concern was barely noticeable in her voice, showing how well she controlled her emotions.
“I am sure. As soon as she started to relax yesterday the exhaustion became unmistakable.”
“Very well then, I shall speak to her tomorrow. But only to her though. My acting is proving too useful on others, especially visiting nobles seeking trade agreements. They keep bringing me documents to sign, thinking I will not realise that they are the same as those I have already rejected, just worded differently. When
I start to act childish and silly, they get despondent and eventually give up and go home empty handed. If they knew how much I was really in control it would be much harder to get rid of them.”
Tor laughed. “You really are quite clever, though you hide it well. Can I let Patrick know he is off the hook?”
“And spoil all my fun?” Tor agreed to remain quiet and they spent an enjoyable day getting to know one another again after their years apart.
——————————-∞——————————-
When Sam awoke for the second time that day, she was feeling a lot better. The bread and water had been a good idea, but it was not enough to stop hunger from returning. As she pulled herself out of bed, she noticed something she had missed earlier in the morning. Opposite the bed was a chair, over which her clothes had been thrown. Looking down she realised she was wearing a night gown. Sitting back on the bed, she tried to remember undressing herself, but she couldn’t even remember returning to the palace. At that moment there was a knock on the door and Ellen and Liselle entered the room.
“How are you feeling?” the young witch asked. “Do you need me to make you a potion?”
“I’m much better thanks. Is Brin up yet?”
A knowing smile crept across Liselle’s face. “Not that I know of. So what were you two up to last night? You know there are better ways to get a guy’s attention than joining him when he gets drunk.”
“I was not trying to get his attention,” Sam insisted, blushing slightly. “I just thought he needed a friend.”
“Uh-hu.” Liselle did not believe a word of it. “So it is just a coincidence that he is young and exceedingly attractive then is it.”
“Young!” Sam exclaimed. “How can you call being over one hundred years old young.”
“It is to an elf.”
“Can I ask a question?” Sam wanted to change the subject quickly. “Do you know who undressed me?”
“You mean you cannot remember? Exactly how much did you drink?”
“I have no idea,” she reluctantly admitted. “I remember drinking at the inn then waking up here feeling like crap. I have no memory of what happened in between.”
“Brin undressed you,” Ellen said, smiling slyly.
“What!” Sam cried incredulously, causing Liselle and Ellen to burst out laughing.
“Sorry. I could not resist. I am only joking. You met Hawk on your way back and he carried you to your room and made sure Brin went to his own.”
“Hawk undressed me?” Ellen nodded. “Oh god,” Sam groaned, lying down again.
“I think she is suffering enough,” Liselle admonished the younger woman. “She is not telling you the full story Sam. Hawk laid you on the bed, but left the room while one of the serving girls changed your clothes.”
“Thank god for that,” Sam murmured, ignoring Ellen whispering ‘that is his story anyway’ just loud enough to be heard.
They both stopped teasing her enough to help her get dressed. Refusing to let her put on her trousers, they produced a dress they had borrowed from the Queen. It was a pale yellow and, while covering her body adequately, it hugged her figure in the right places and the split in the side showed a lot of leg as she walked.
“Brin should be satisfied with that,” Ellen commented as they made their way to the dining room.
“Give it a rest,” Sam snapped, a little too quickly. “I want nothing more than friendship from him.”
“Of course you do.” Ellen agreed. “I wish I could go off into the desert with a blind old man and come back with a guy who is not only gorgeous and intriguing, but single and available.”
“He’s available?” Sam found herself asking. “Okay,” she conceded, when she realised she had spoken out loud. “I admit it. He is gorgeous. I would have thought the pointed ears and the green skin would be a real turn off, but somehow they actually make him even more attractive. But there is still nothing going on. We are just friends and that is all we will ever be.”
“I think she doth protest too much,” Ellen whispered to Liselle.
They were the last of their group to arrive for dinner. Sam took a spare seat next to Brin then glared at Ellen, daring her to say anything. Ellen herself sat next to Patrick, as usual, and Liselle joined her husband, who kissed her lovingly on the cheek.
Brin leaned toward Sam. “Thank you for yesterday,” he said quietly. “I hope you did not suffer too badly this morning.”
“I have felt worse,” Sam assured him, “though not often. Have you given much thought to your future?”
“I have thought of nothing else, but am no nearer to making any decisions, though I think I will stay with Tor and help with his quest for now.” All conversation stopped as the door opened and the Queen walked in, followed by a tall thin elf, who was introduced as Illen. Sam felt Brin stiffen beside her. His hands were under the table, resting on his thighs, so she was able to place hers on top of his and give a reassuring squeeze without anyone noticing.
“Calm down,” she whispered.
Illen looked around the table, a look of distaste on her face. She was strikingly beautiful, though Sam suspected that it was only skin deep. There seemed no warmth about her. She smiled as soon as she saw Brin, but the smile did not reach her eyes, which remained cold. “My dearest Brin, how good to see you again. Come and give your mother a welcoming kiss.” She had the same speech pattern as Brin, pausing in odd places mid-sentence, but while on him it was endearing, on her it was irritating.
“You are not my mother and never will be.” His voice was calm and controlled. He was hiding his emotions well.
Illen continued as though he had not spoken. “Helen has been gracious enough to provide me with an entire suite. I will arrange for your things to be moved in as soon as we have finished dinner.”
“The room I have been provided with is perfectly adequate.” A look of fury passed across Illen’s face for a moment.
“Very well,” she replied, then sat down next to Helen, making sure she was as far away from the other humans as was possible. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Sam broke it by asking what everyone had been doing while she had been ‘sleeping’. By the time they had all finished making jokes at her expense and had relayed how they had spent their time, a warm atmosphere had returned. Not once during the meal did Brin look at his stepmother, though she spent a good deal of her time staring at him. After dinner, Helen invited them all to join her in the formal lounge where they could enjoy their coffee and brandy in comfort.
On the way, Brin pulled Sam aside.
“I am leaving,” he informed her. “I will find somewhere to stay in the city.”
“Whatever for?” Sam asked. “Surely you can bear to be under the same roof as your stepmother for one more night.”
The look Brin gave her scared her more than the words as he replied. “Because I am afraid that bitch will come to my room tonight and if she does I am going to kill her.”
Chapter 24
Sam stared at him in disbelief. She knew he hated his stepmother, but wanting to kill her seemed a bit extreme.
“Don’t leave,” she blurted out. “You can stay in my room.” A look of panic crossed Brin’s face. “Oh god no, that’s not what I meant,” she stammered, suddenly realising what he must be thinking. “I mean swap rooms. If we wait in our own rooms until we are sure the corridor is empty, nobody else will know where you are until the morning.”
Liking the idea, the elf agreed they should join the others for coffee; both of them declined the brandy. A few hours later, once everyone had retired for the night, Sam and Brin met in the corridor.
“Thank you for doing this,” Brin said. He seemed the most at ease he had been since finding out Illen was staying in the palace.
“You’re welcome,” Sam replied and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight.”
It was still a few hours before dawn when Sam was awoken by the sound of someone creeping into the room. She remained moti
onless, listening for footsteps, but hearing none. She almost jumped when she felt someone slip under the covers beside her.
“Well my darling, there are no windows for you to throw me out of here. Let us carry on from where we left off.” Illen’s voice was full of seduction and a sickly sweet smell surrounded her. If it was perfume, she had definitely overdone it.
“I’d rather not.” The scream that filled the room was loud enough to wake the whole household. Illen did not have time to leave the room before Hawk arrived. Tor, feeling that something was wrong, but not able to put his finger on what, had asked Hawk to stand guard during the night so he was close at hand when he heard the scream. Soon others arrived, the men still in their nightwear but carrying swords, the women bringing lighted lamps.
Modo took in the scene; Sam sitting upright in Brin’s bed, Brin nowhere to be seen and Illen standing naked, her nightgown on the floor by her feet.
“What is going on here?” he asked, directing the question at Sam not Illen, though he did take the time to notice how perfect her body looked without clothes to hide it.
“This evil slut wants to seduce Brin. She’s tried it before and he was afraid she would try it again so we swapped rooms. She undressed and climbed into bed with me, thinking I was him.”
“Who screamed?”
“She did when I spoke and she realised I was not Brin.”
By this time, Illen had recovered enough from her shock to dispute Sam’s claim. “What utter lies,” she said calmly, putting her nightgown back on. “She must have overheard my stepson asking me to come to his room to discuss our differences. As soon as I entered the room she attacked me. I want her arrested this minute.”
Queen Helen had arrived to hear her speech and started to call the guards, but Tor forestalled her.
The Guide Page 30
