Queen of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

“Me, too.”

  “Ah, I fear that is my fault, cousin. I am responsible for turning your mother against you. Had she been a kind and loving parent, nothing I said would have mattered, but she was predisposed to dislike you before you met her. I believe it’s because you are a Raven, and she despises scavengers. Then again, it could be because you are Wolfen. If you were my child, I would be happy to have you back.”

  “Why are you being nice to me?” Taliesin asked. When Sertorius wanted to be pleasant, he made it easy to forget he had a black heart. He was handsome in his blue tunic, a ring on every finger, and he laughed when Almaric belched. She laughed, too.

  “Despite all that has happened, I love you, Rosamond,” he said. “You are so beautiful when you smile. Never let these vultures know how tedious you find their company and take note of the guests. A Cavell sits next to each duke. My cousins on my mother’s side of the family are spies for Lord Ungus. They eavesdrop as much as they gossip, and my grandfather likes to be kept well-informed.”

  “Do you not miss your wife, Lenora?” Taliesin asked.

  “Not really. I don’t know her well enough to miss her,” Sertorius said. He lifted his glass and swallowed the contents in one gulp. “Had you married me, I would have been faithful. I know you like me a little, Rosamond. Once, I believed you loved me.”

  “I love you best when you are absent,” Taliesin said, a smile on her face.

  Sertorius’ laughter drew the heated gaze of Roland. “It is a long road we have traveled,” he said, “only to come here, to be so close, and yet never farther apart. I still dream about what might have been. The only reason I have been cruel is because you hurt me when you refused my love. I have tried to hide my true feelings, but tonight I no longer want to try. Rosamond, I love you.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “Yes, but it is the only way I can be honest.”

  “I am trying to listen to the music,” Dinadan said. “How can we select the best musician when you two will not be quiet?” He leaned forward, and his long hair brushed the top of his mutton as he pointed with his fork at the next bard. “They are not worth their weight in gold, these bards from the country. After this song, I will retire for the night.”

  “That does it!” Almaric slammed his fists on the table and stood. The bard, a tall, young man holding a flute, scurried off. “I demand to know who killed our father!” He glanced at Lykus who gave a nod. Every Wolfman stood and reached for a dagger. “The murderer will step forward, or my men will slit the throat of the man or woman seated on his right.”

  “Almaric, sit down,” Lord Ungus roared. He motioned to the royal guards, stationed every ten feet against the wall. Spears were lowered and swords drawn. “I will have order, do you hear me, boy? The Old Laws do not allow you to act like a barbarian. You will be held accountable for your actions if you do not resume your seat and call off your dogs. This feast is in honor of your father. Do not shame him or the rest of your family by killing our guests!”

  “No one cares Konall is dead,” Almaric complained. “I care! Sertorius is not fit to wear the crown. Nor should my aunt be allowed to marry without a king’s consent. She did it once and see where it got her? You have less power than a child, Grandfather. I grow weary of your lectures and your demands.”

  “Sit down, boy, and shut up!”

  “Grandfather, tell me to shut up again, and I’ll stab Dinadan in the eye with my fork,” Almaric shouted. He turned toward Dinadan, who screamed and threw a napkin in his brother’s face.

  Roland and the White Stags took swords from beneath the table and stood, prepared to fight the Wolfmen as they kicked back their chairs. The screams of ladies, along with the angry shouts of men, filled the chamber. Simoon, playing the Lorian lute, made his way to the head table and faced the crowd as he lifted his voice in a song Taliesin knew, a Thule folk song called Wild Grows the Fire. Since it was played by a talented musician, the magic of the lute was released to hold the audience’s attention. As Simoon sang along with his strumming, the Wolfmen were the first affected by the magic of Eevhass, and sleepily resumed their seats. Duke Andre placed his fingers into his ears, while the White Stags, wearing earplugs, remained standing and watched as several yawns in the crowd started a ripple effect, and heads drooped or fell onto a partner’s shoulder.

  The bard was a rich tenor, and at the refrain, Almaric dropped his head onto his plate, Dinadan sagged in his chair, and Sertorius caught the edge of the table to hold himself upright and yawned before he fell asleep. Taliesin placed her elbows on the tables, rested her chin in her hands, and enjoyed the performance.

  “The fire burns, the fire spreads.

  Wildest desires grow in the night.

  My Lady’s green eyes and cherry red lips,

  Bring my aching hands to her hips,

  Wild grows the fire, burning in my heart.

  The fire grows wild all through the night.”

  Simoon glided past the contestants, more heads lowered, and each bard dropped to the floor, sound asleep. He walked toward Duke Fergus Vortigern of Scrydon while singing loudly, and the lord and his officers collapsed onto the table. Sleepy eyes followed Simoon’s every move, for Eevhass’ melody was lovely, its magic contagious, and guests and guards dropped where they sat or stood.

  Taliesin leaned forward, able to see Ungus, eyes closed and snoring. Her mother slept on Arundel’s shoulder, and the Eagle lord rested his head on top of hers, but Taliesin wasn’t sure he was asleep when Simoon finished the song and slung the lute over his shoulder. Dukes Andre, Elric, and Hercule, as well as their men, stood. Roland and his knights removed their earplugs and began to secure the Wolfmen with silver chains. The Fregians lifted the Wolfmen over their shoulders and carried them out the door.

  “Where are you taking them?” Taliesin asked. She walked toward Roland, who turned and took her hand. “Are you arresting the Wolf Clan? Isn’t this in direct violation of the truce?”

  “They drew their weapons. Under the Old Laws, no guest may draw a blade at a royal feast. I’ll give you a copy, as some of the laws are quite amusing,” Roland said. “Lykus and Wolfgar will be arrested, as well. They have one hundred men in the castle, but most are here. Almaric will be locked in his room, until tomorrow.” He lifted Moonbane off the table as the White Stags carried out Lykus and Wolfgar.

  Duke Andre hurried toward Taliesin. “Your plan worked, Your Grace,” he said. “Prince Almaric has a legendary bad temper, and we anticipated he would attempt to force the truth out of the guests. Roland told me what you learned from Doomsayer. No one on the High Council will accept as evidence what you learned from a magic sword, and there is no way to produce evidence. Dr. Flitwick doesn’t know what type of poison killed the king.”

  The Fregian duke kicked a Wolfman on the floor. “Get these dogs locked away! Now, this is what you call retribution!” He followed his soldiers as they carried off Chief Lykus and Wolfgar, while Duke Elric left with a group of Bavolian knights. Within minutes, every member of the Wolf Clan was gone, and most of the knights and soldiers had returned to their seats.

  “I have an idea,” Taliesin said to Duke Andre. “It might help to examine the secret passage that leads to the king’s chamber. Perhaps something was dropped or left behind. I saw everything that happened. Maybe I’ll find the cup, or the vial of poison.”

  “This seems unlikely, for I have looked. But if you think it will help, then I’ll join you there after dinner,” Duke Andre said. Bodies started to stir at the tables. “Return to your seats. All of you! Simoon, put away your lute and join the White Stags. If asked where Almaric and his escort went, it is best to say nothing. I’ll explain to Lord Ungus what happened as soon as I can. I’m sure he’ll support our handling of the matter; we avoided bloodshed, and, after all, the Wolf Clan did break the rules.”

  “After dinner then,” Roland said. He caught Taliesin around the waist and pulled her close for a swift kiss. “You’re far too friendly with Sertorius thi
s evening, and I am starting to feel jealous.”

  “Well, don’t be. I play my part, Roland. Hurry. Go sit down.”

  Taliesin returned to her seat and placed her head on the table. She hoped Arundel was asleep, but had no time to check. The bards, confused, rose and drifted to chairs along the wall. A hand closed around Taliesin’s wrist as Sertorius groaned and lifted his head. Red streaks discolored his blue eyes. An angry look hung on his face, and with a croak he said, “My head is killing me. Give me wine.”

  “I think you had enough,” Taliesin said. “Do you need assistance?”

  “No. Instead, come with me, and we will leave,” he replied.

  Guests returned to their meals and finished conversations started before the spell was cast. Princess Calista lifted her head with a loud snort, an embarrassed look on her face, along with part of her meal; Arundel used a napkin to clean her. Ungus pounded the floor with his cane and demanded more wine. Taliesin stood, caught Sertorius’ arm, and with a tug, pulled him to his feet. Arundel turned to watch as they left, a sly gleam in his eyes; he had not been asleep, after all. She should have known if the lute’s magic failed to affect her, it would not bother him, yet he said not a word.

  Sertorius pointed to a side door. Servants streamed passed them to enter the hall. Sertorius led her up a flight of stairs to the third floor, and peered into the corridor.

  “It’s safe,” the prince said. “No Wolfmen. I do not know what game Almaric plays, but we must proceed with caution, Rosamond.”

  Sir Barstow and Sir Bedwyn joined them. Taliesin was surprised these were the two knights sent to offer their protection, and she avoided looking at Barstow, not wanting to engage in conversation. She had no doubt he had a few things to say to her, none of them pleasant, but the knights simply led the way to the north wing. Fregian soldiers arrived and walked behind them.

  “Duke Hercule is protective of you, as well. I am glad, for your sake, cousin.” Sertorius took her arm. “I apologize for what happened at Dreskull Castle. I admit your mother influenced my behavior and not the other way around. From now on, you will see a change in me. I mean to be king and will act like one.”

  “That would be a nice change,” Taliesin said. She hoped he meant it, but suspected it would take a few more years of majority, along with a string of harsh life lessons, before Sertorius was ready to fill his father’s shoes. It was still hard to accept that King Frederick was her uncle, and forgiving him for her own father’s death was impossible. She wanted Sertorius to be a better king than his father, and if he applied himself, stopped reacting with his feelings, and used his head, he might make a good king. As for his older brothers, neither Almaric nor Dinadan were suitable to rule. She knew it, and hoped the High Council realized it as well.

  Two Fregian soldiers stood on either side of the door, and watched under the brims of their helmets as Sertorius opened it. The prince showed no fear an assassin might lurk in her room. He peered inside, gave a nod, and swept his arm forward.

  “No one is in your room, unless a wolf hides under your bed,” Sertorius said with a smirk. “I could check that for you, yet somehow I doubt you would want me to enter.” He caught her arm, and raised an eyebrow. “I know earlier today I made light of the death of Duke Hrothgar of Fregia and his brother. Please understand, Rosamond, I bear no ill will against the Fregians. I listened to my cousin, Peergynt; a mistake I readily admit to, and believed him when he claimed Hrothgar was a threat. I regret my part in the Battle of Bernlak; Fregians are loyal King’s Men, and I want men like Roland Brisbane on my side. You must know Almaric would have carried out his threat tonight. He means well, for he merely wants to know who ordered our father’s death as much as I do.”

  “I’m surprised to hear you say this. I thought you hated your father.”

  “Not at all,” he said. “I have no doubt Dinadan is involved, and possibly Arundel, who does not like me or my brothers, but Arundel never lifted a hand against my father, and I do not think he would have killed my father, unless another fanned the flame. Your mother may know more than she’s letting on.”

  “Perhaps,” Taliesin said. “Thank you for walking me to my room, Sertorius.”

  The prince held her tighter when she attempted to pull free. “If you discover the instigator, tell me, and soon. Almaric will start taking heads if he doesn’t get answers. We have only two days before we are back to hurling stones at each other. As a child, my brother enjoyed lighting twigs and stuffing them into the holes of anthills, wanting to see how long it took before the ants tried to escape; they seldom did. When he was older, he did the same thing with prisoners. He will question, bully, and torture others to get the information he wants. I do not apologize for his behavior, I merely want you to understand what type of man he is, Rosamond. Yet, Almaric loved our father. He wants revenge for our father’s death; I want justice.”

  “You already sound like a ruler,” Taliesin said, wanting to end the conversation. He stood too close and she caught a gleam in his eyes. It struck her he expected an invitation into her room. As she pulled away, his fingers opened, and she entered her room. “I hope this new sense of fair play continues.”

  “I will do my best, cousin,” the prince said, with a bow.

  Taliesin turned to shut the door, but Sertorius startled her as he pushed his way inside without explanation. “What are you doing? I thought you were leaving,” she said. “You’re not going to stay the night with me. Please leave.”

  “I will as soon as Roland arrives—I will not leave you unattended.”

  With a heavy sigh, she watched Sertorius close the door and lean against it. A few candles were lit and bounced shadows on the walls, and she half expected to see glowing yellow eyes peer out from under her bed. The prince said not a word when she snapped her fingers and lit every candle on the mantle. The logs in the fireplace sparked to life, and he let out a soft whistle.

  “You really are amazing,” Sertorius said.

  “So are you. Sir Roland will return soon. You shut the door in Sir Bedwyn’s face, and he was ordered to wait here with me. I don’t want Roland to get any wrong ideas about us. I want you to leave.”

  Sertorius snorted. “Not until you tell me how everyone fell asleep at the feast. Hmm? I did not drink that much wine, cousin; it takes far more wine for me to pass out in drunken stupor. It was you, wasn’t it? You used magic.”

  “The lute played by Simoon belongs to Prince Tamblyn of Duvalen,” Taliesin said, wondering why she bothered to explain. “Simoon was to play if Almaric caused trouble, and he did. All the Wolfmen have been taken to the dungeon, but Almaric was taken to his room and locked inside. You’re smiling. You know it was the only way to save the lives of innocent people.”

  “No doubt, no doubt,” he said. “So much intrigue and so many plots must leave your head in a spin, for it does mine. I know, too, it is difficult for you to see your mother wed Arundel, but they will marry. Do not try to interfere, and whatever you do, do not trust that woman. I could tell you stories about Calista, but I think you know what type of woman she is. Why John Mandrake fell for her is a mystery, but he did, and you are a result of his mad infatuation. I do not know if she has tried to speak with you. I caution you to avoid her. When I said Arundel acted out of fashion, if he is behind my father’s death, I think my aunt is involved.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she hated her brother for locking her up,” he said. “My every instinct says my aunt is involved in my father’s death, because I know how the game is played, Rosamond. She promised to marry Arundel if he did the deed, am I right? Of course I am. Doomsayer showed you what happened, yet for some reason you decided to protect your mother. I cannot say I blame you. But, if I am right, and I usually am, I hope you will tell me before you announce it to the court. Almaric may take matters into his own hands, and things may turn bloody.”

  “You made me ride in a gut wagon for four days without food and water. If your knights had not taken
pity on me, I would have died. This sudden change of heart worries me; you sound sincere, but you scheme to win my forgiveness, and thereby the support of the Fregians and White Stags, because you want to be king.”

  He shrugged. “You are a Draconus, after all—a natural game player.”

  “What has my mother said about me? All my life I have wanted to know her,” Taliesin said, as she sat on a large trunk at the foot of her bed. “The woman wants nothing to do with me. I believe what you say about her, Sertorius. I know she regrets marrying John Mandrake; she regrets I was ever born.”

  “Aunt Calista fears you. She knew Mandrake was a warlock and feared her child would be born a witch,” Sertorius said. “Your powers will grow, Rosamond. It takes time for a sha’tar to reach full strength, so I have heard; practice makes perfect.” He responded to a knock on the door, opened it, and spoke with Sir Bedwyn. The door remained open an inch as the prince turned back to her. “Before you ask, I will explain. Your mother fears what you will do if you are chosen to be queen. Be careful, Rosamond; Arundel and Calista want to rule. I seriously doubt my grandfather will be able to prevent them from seizing control when all the Draconus heirs are dead.”

  “On that note, sir, I bid you goodnight,” Taliesin said with a yawn. What he said rang true; he knew what had happened, he offered good advice, and it seemed they shared a fragile truce. It was a shame Sertorius was not a true friend. Life would have been easier if he were a trusted companion, but he was not, and there was no sense wanting something that would never be. Her cousin wasn’t going to change his nature out of the sheer goodness of his heart. In many ways, he was worse than any of his brothers, for he made it possible to both hate and love him at the same time.

  Sertorius opened the door wider and passed Sir Bedwyn, who entered and closed the door. The knight gave a nod to Taliesin and took a seat, his sword still in his grip. She removed her cloak, tossed it onto the bed, and stood at the window to watch the night guard take their posts.