Queen of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  “Let’s not hear the tales of brave Sir Roland, and how he came to win my father’s father; you do what you think best, Grandfather.”

  Sertorius left, leaving Taliesin flustered by his semi-gallant behavior and curious change of heart; he had shown more concern for her than her own mother. It was impossible to sort out why she even liked Sertorius, in spite of everything he’d done to her, but given the choice between Sertorius, Dinadan, or Almaric, the youngest prince was the only suitable king. Yet, her mother acted as if she wanted something else. That was why she had confirmed Taliesin was her daughter. It was not out of love; it was more a strange, lateral move in a game of kings and queens. Duke Andre led in the other dukes seconds later, and Sir Roland and several servants followed.

  Taliesin slid off the chest, walked to Lord Ungus, placed a kiss on top of his head, and was surprised when he reached for her hand. He raised his face, tears in his eyes as he pressed her hand against his chest, and Taliesin felt slightly awkward he displayed so much emotion. She had no idea why, or what she had done to win his affection and loyalty, for she had certainly not used magic, and suspected Arundel was behind it. What were Arundel and her mother planning? It pressed on her mind as the dukes bowed to Ungus and took seats beside him. Duke Elric of Bavol removed a petition from the box, opened it, and started to read without being asked to do so by the old chancellor.

  “Is everything all right, Lord Ungus?” Duke Andre asked, leaning toward him. “I can tell you are tired; we all are, my Lord. How may we help?”

  “We are all exhausted, but will endeavor to persevere,” Lord Ungus replied. “Roland, come here, my good man. I place Princess Rosamond in your charge. You will make certain nothing happens to her—nothing—for she is the one link that can unite every realm on this continent, and I would see it so. Andre, continue your investigation and find out who killed King Frederick. Hercule. Fakar. Elric. Please, read through the petitions and post responses, while I generate a list of names for the Star Council.”

  “You do not think we can reach an agreement,” Duke Hercule grumbled. “Nor do I. No one has heard from Almaric, my Lord. We have sent several messengers to ask him to come here, posthaste; he replied each time with, ‘soon.’”

  “What a bore,” Duke Elric said, holding up a petition. “It appears a disgruntled baron wants to divorce his wife and marry her younger sister.” He tossed it back into the box. “If they’re all like this, Ungus, no wonder you don’t want to read them. Now I know what you and Frederick did all day. Appeasing the citizens of Caladonia is no easy task, and here I thought Bavol was difficult to rule.”

  Duke Andre waved the older men silent. “There’s no need for either of you to stay,” he said. “We will see you this evening, Princess Rosamond. Be on watch, Roland; Lord Ungus is too trusting, and you know as well as I do our noble princes will stop at nothing to remove Rosamond from the game. She is more a threat now than ever before. The Old Laws allow her to rule without a king, though I’m sure Ungus didn’t disclose this twist. I can offer my own guards as added protection.”

  “Fregia protects the princess,” Duke Hercule grumbled. He rubbed his hand over his whiskered chin. “Keep your eye on Banik, Roland. His attitude has soured since he arrived, and I feel he no longer wants what we want; a fair vote and an end to this war.”

  Duke Elric reached for another scroll. “Make use of the Knights of the Blue Star, Roland, they are at your disposal. Ask for Sir Gavin.”

  “Yes, my Lords, and thank you,” Roland said, bowing. He led Taliesin from the room and down a hallway to where Bedwyn and Landrake waited. “You made quite an impression on the old chancellor; I have never seen Ungus shed tears before. Nor did I think he would be so quick to proclaim you a princess. The loss of his daughter, Queen Aislynn, left a hole in his heart. For whatever reason, I think you may have filled that hole, though in truth, you look nothing like her portraits, nor have you her genteel demeanor. She was fair-haired and blue-eyed, and she lacked your temperament.”

  Taliesin sighed and took his arm. “This place will never be my home. Arundel has my mother under his spell, and they all plot and scheme. I am afraid of what will come.”

  “Then I will not let you out of my sight,” he said.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twelve

  Sir Roland led Taliesin into a chapel built with a network of eight oval ceilings, each painted with a different scene. One ceiling showed the image of Stroud, a stern god with a long white beard. He held his longsword Bone in one hand and a dove perched on the other while he stood beside his wife, Broa. The goddess, depicted in a yellow gown edged with wheat shocks to represent the crops she watched over, held two baby girls wrapped in flower wreaths. Painted on the other ceilings were clouds, stars, the sun at its zenith and eclipsed, and the moon in all its phases. The rest of the pantheon was absent. It was a chapel for the immortal couple; a quiet place meant for private reflection, atonement, and guidance.

  Every knight from the orders of the White Stag and the Blue Star, and a few minor orders, had gathered in the chapel. A buzz of angry voices discussed Almaric’s invitation to the castle, the three-day truce, and the involvement of the High Council in selecting a new king, creating a cacophony of noise that hurt Taliesin’s sensitive ears.

  “Quiet!” Roland barked. A fight seemed imminent—a Blue Star threw his gauntlet into the face of a White Stag, and hands reached for swords. Roland kicked the chapel door closed and shouted again, “There will be silence!” This time his voice was heard, and it startled the two quarreling men.

  Knights pushed each other aside to take their seats as the rest of the White Stags filed into the chapel and stood at the back wall. Landrake remained at the door, arms crossed, while Bedwyn followed Roland as he guided Taliesin to a small marble altar covered with white candles, fresh-cut flowers, and, in the center, a large gold bowl filled with fresh fruit. Two trays of incense burned on the altar, and the scent of sandalwood and vanilla wafted through the chamber, causing Taliesin to sneeze as she turned to face the crowd while Roland loomed over the audience.

  “The last thing we need is to fight among ourselves,” Roland said. “This is a private meeting, and all of you will take a seat or a knee. I have brought Princess Rosamond here to talk to you, for there is much to discuss. Some of you may know Duke Andre Rigelus is leading an investigation into the murder of King Frederick. Lord Ungus is also deciding who will sit on the Star Council in case the High Council fails to vote unanimously for our new king. As Princess Rosamond may very well be your next queen, be silent and listen.”

  Taliesin blinked in surprise and leaned toward Roland. “Just what am I supposed to say to these men?” she asked. She disliked being in a place of worship for Stroud and Broa, and while Roland and the others thought the chapel offered privacy, she was concerned the gods heard every word. This was not the place she would have asked the knights to talk about the affairs of the realm. Her sword thumped her back, concerned as well, as she met Roland’s gaze.

  “I thought I was being taken to my room. I am not in the mood to talk politics with these knights,” Taliesin whispered, aware every man stared at her. “The least you can do is moderate.”

  “I have every intention of doing so, Princess Rosamond.”

  “Don’t call me Rosamond—I do not like that name.”

  “It’s your legal name, and knights prefer proper protocol,” Roland said.

  “I don’t care. It makes me sound…weak.”

  “Is there a problem, Sir Roland?” Bedwyn asked. “If the princess prefers to speak in the open air, then we could adjourn to the stables. The smell of horse manure is preferable to the stench of incense.”

  “You, too, object to this place?” Roland asked, amused.

  “Yes,” the knight whispered. “Ragnal may be listening.”

  Roland snorted. “He can listen in a barn as well as a chapel.”

  “I may be able to help,” Taliesin said.

 
The idea to cloak the room in a spell to maintain privacy made Taliesin reflect on Ysemay’s lessons, but she had no idea what spell to use, as they’d never covered this topic; a protection spell to ward off eavesdropping by immortals, or anyone listening outside the door, escaped her. Ringerike gave a soft nudge, its way of offering support, and she faced the knights and squires. As she spread her hands and imagined the comments and thoughts of the men contained in a bubble, a blue light poured from the back of her cloak and spread throughout the chamber. Roland’s stern look silenced gasps, and he pointed at one Blue Star knight who stood, prepared to leave the chamber.

  “Sit back down; a little magic won’t hurt you,” Roland said. “The blue light comes from Ringerike, the sword of the Raven Clan, and this is the Raven Mistress. Her name among her clan is ‘Taliesin,’ a preferred name which you may use in private, but not when formally addressing her in public. Bedwyn and Landrake assured me each of you are loyal King’s Men, which means we want what is best for Caladonia, and Taliesin is doing what she can to keep Ragnal, as well as Lord Arundel, from overhearing our comments. Any objections?”

  The knight sat down, and no one else moved or spoke.

  Roland gave a satisfied nod. “Then let’s get down to business, gentlemen.”

  Taliesin spotted Tamal, Khamsin, Sirocco, Simoon, and Harmattan among the seated men. She had not expected to see the five Ghajar in the chapel, since Ismeina had told her they had come to Penkill Castle with the message from Roland to join him at Tantalon Castle. If they had made it to and back from Penkill Castle in such haste, she wondered if Zarnoc or Ismeina had transported them. Otherwise, they should have still been on the road, hard-pressed to reach the safety of the royal city. However, she had no opportunity to question the Tamal or the Nova brothers, as Roland broke into a long litany of recent events, his deep voice holding the knights’ full attention, and she decided it was best to listen and not let her thoughts drift.

  “Grand Master Banik Dzobian has resigned from his post,” Roland said. “He left earlier this evening to join Prince Almaric’s camp. Those of us in the White Stags have long disapproved of Banik’s close association with Lord Arundel. I asked my friends in the Blue Star, men I have fought beside for years, to join us this evening because of my concern Lord Arundel means to control the vote. Princess Rosamond recently discovered Lord Arundel, as well as his son, Xander, are sorcerers, and she destroyed their magic guild as well as Eagle’s Cliff. She is a warrior princess, and she carries Ringerike, the Raven Sword. As far as I’m concerned, she is the only one worthy of the throne.”

  Taliesin felt a blush creep along her neck and splatter on her cheeks. She had not said she wanted to be queen, nor did she like being a princess, for it added more problems to an already difficult life. She stood in front of the men, feeling slightly self-conscious in her garments, and wanted nothing more than to rest and eat something, for her stomach grumbled.

  “Simply pick another Grand Master, Roland, and be glad Banik left,” said the Blue Star who had attempted to leave earlier. He was a dark-haired knight wearing a red tunic with a light blue star emblazoned on the front, and Taliesin noticed he had one blue eye and one green eye. He rose from a pew and approached Roland. “Our own grand master is relieved Banik resigned; they were not friends. We agreed to come here out of our respect for you, Roland, not because Duke Elric ordered it. We also wanted to meet Princess Rosamond.” He glanced at Taliesin and bowed his head. “I can see now what all the fuss is about, Your Grace.”

  “This is Sir Gavin,” Roland said. “Allow me to present Princess Rosamond.”

  “Taliesin, please. At least when we’re not in court,” she said.

  “Show us Ringerike,” another Blue Star knight said. “We came to see the sword, Roland.” More voices cried out, “Show us the Raven Sword.”

  Roland motioned for the men to remain silent and turned to Taliesin. “Will you show it to them?” he asked. She gave a nod, and he helped remove her cloak.

  Taliesin raised her hand to grasp the hilt. The sword pushed itself from the scabbard, and the blue light intensified as she drew it over her head. Every man leaned forward, eyes wide, and stared at the sword in awe. The Knights of the Blue Star were priests as well as warriors. They fell to their knees in the pews, folded their hands across their chests, and bowed their heads.

  “The Blue Star was created during the reign of King Magnus,” Roland said. “They have guarded many magical items in their castle for two centuries, but do not use them in battle. However, Sir Gavin wisely brought the most valuable items with him, mainly weapons, which they now wear, and already they grow stronger from being near you. This is the reason I asked them here, Taliesin. I have told all present you are the true heir of King Korax and Queen Madera. You have both Lorian and Hellirin blood, as well as the blood of the House of Draconus. But only a Sanqualus can wield Ringerike.”

  “Then it’s true she is a sha’tar?” Sir Gavin asked. “Not only have we guarded the weapons, we also believe in magic, and we have waited for someone like you to restore it to the realm. The world is not as beautiful without magic, for it is the magic user who decides if magic is to be used for good or evil.”

  “Yes, Sir Gavin, she is,” Roland replied. “Her father, John Mandrake, was a warlock. This is why his swords are coveted, for they are enchanted. I believe you have a Mandrake sword; am I right?”

  Sir Gavin gave a quick nod. “All this time I have used it in battle, and it has never failed me, Sir Roland,” he said. “I would gladly present it to the princess, if she would accept it as a gift.”

  “Keep it, Sir Gavin,” Taliesin said as she lowered Ringerike. “I have the most powerful sword in the realm. It has defeated Ragnal’s swords Gurgala, which is really Brightstar and now carried by Zarnoc, and Bone, the sword of his father. It has subdued Calaburn, which I now possess, held the Garridan army at bay, and protected me countless times. I also possess quite a few magical swords, which I have given to members of the Raven Clan. Recently in Erindor, I obtained Duke Fakar’s scimitar, Tizona, which is with my clan, and you all know Almaric has Doomsayer. But a few magical swords will not defeat Almaric, not if the vote goes against him, and he decides to destroy this castle. Lord Ungus believes he can control the princes and the High Council, but I do not think that is possible. Arundel and Xander are sorcerers, and I believe they have Dinadan, Fakar, and Banik under their spell, as well as my mother. If Banik has joined Almaric, then others may soon change their allegiance and join him too.”

  “We have been on the run since we left Clairmore Castle in Bavol,” Gavin said. “We fought many Wolfmen on the way, and I noticed, even then, the Mandrake swords my order carried had no problem slicing them into pieces. If Almaric breaks the truce and tries to turn anyone in this castle into Wolfen, we will be ready for him.”

  “Taliesin, who do you believe should be the next king?” Bedwyn asked. He sat on the front row beside Tamal. “It seems obvious you will be asked to marry whichever prince is chosen. I am sorry, Sir Roland; I mean no disrespect. All of us are concerned, and I’d like to know her opinion. Ringerike cannot be defeated in battle, so it only stands to reason the prince selected would want the warrior princess as his bride.”

  “But can she defeat Ragnal, or even Almaric?” another knight asked.

  “I believe she can,” Roland replied with a nod at Taliesin.

  Taliesin tapped her left hand. Red dragon-scale armor covered her, and the winged helmet appeared on her head. Her armor was magnificent compared to the chainmail and plate mail worn by the knights. Sir Gavin slid into the main aisle, knelt, drew his Mandrake sword, and placed it on his knee. She approached and gazed down at the silver blade.

  “This looks like Wolf Killer, my old sword, left behind at the Cave of the Snake God,” Taliesin said with a gasp. “My father’s tiny insignia is in the blood grove.” The Mandrake sword quivered as the blue light from Ringerike shined upon it.

  “Yes, it is the same s
word,” Gavin replied. “I retrieved it when we were there, my Lady. Sir Roland thought you might like to see it again. It has served me well.”

  “Then it is yours to keep, sir.”

  Gavin bowed his head and lowered the weapon.

  “As for which prince should sit on the throne, if I had to pick,” Taliesin said, “I suppose it would be Sertorius, even though he killed Konall. Almaric serves Ragnal, and Dinadan does whatever Arundel says. Sertorius is the least offensive, though I will not marry him. I am perfectly happy being the Raven Mistress, and need no crown to restore my clan to honor, or to wield Ringerike in battle. My goal is to restore peace and magic to the realm, and for this to be accomplished, I must fight the war god and his last remaining wolf, Varg. The Wolfen curse will be broken once they are dead. And once Ragnal is gone, the desire in men’s hearts for war will fade. It’s what I believe, and I’ll do whatever I must to make this happen.”

  “Whether you sit on the throne or not, my Lady, I will support you,” Sir Gavin said, “and so will the Knights of the Blue Star. It would be an honor to fight beside you in battle.”

  Each Blue Star knight stood, drew his sword, and raised it high. The White Stags did the same. Taliesin lifted Ringerike over her head in salute, and watched, transfixed, as its blue light touched every sword in the chapel. When the light faded, she slid the broadsword into its scabbard and waited while the knights put away their swords, before she returned to stand beside Roland. She wanted to tell the knights she chose Roland as her mate, and no matter who sat on the throne, she intended to be with him, always, but refrained from doing so. Roland was respected by every knight present, and she again longed to know what he had done—his heroic exploits and selfish acts of compassion and kindness—to win such approval.