Queen of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  “I cannot ask the High Council to allow Korax’s court to testify, and I don’t think Almaric will make a move until after the vote,” Duke Andre said, and sat on the edge of the king’s bed. “We cannot blame Arundel for the king’s murder or this civil war. Almaric already knows what happened and will accuse us of lying, making matters worse. We must let the vote play out.”

  “There is nothing here we can use as evidence against Arundel,” Taliesin said. “I expected it, but had to look. It’s a pity he involved Dinadan in his conspiracy. There are no princes worthy of the crown.”

  “No one is arguing that point,” Roland said as he walked to the door. “There will be no more skullduggery tonight, and we must be prepared for anything. Sir Jordan, you and Sir Justin will return Duke Andre to his room and stand guard with a dozen knights. I will escort the princess to her room. The Fregian soldiers are under my command, per Hercule, and they will keep the Wolfmen from entering this castle. That much we can do.”

  Sir Jordan and the Thule knight Taliesin had seen in the library the night before moved toward Duke Andre. She immediately noticed a family resemblance when the three lined up, and Ringerike showed her images of Duke Andriel and the servant girl he laid with, who later bore him twins. Justin and Jordan were those twins, and Andre knew they were his half-brothers; that was why they seemed so eager to protect him. Jordan had always wanted to be a White Stag, while Justin joined to look after Andre. The knights drew their swords before they opened the door and led Duke Andre out of the room. The other two Thule knights went with them, and more arrived to provide an escort.

  Sir Bedwyn peered into the hallway. “We have a few Fregians here, Roland,” he said. “Let’s go while we can.”

  “Lead the way, old friend,” Roland replied.

  Taliesin held Roland’s arm as the White Stags and Fregians escorted her to the late queen’s room in the northern section of the castle. No Wolfmen lurked in the shadows, and some Fregian soldiers had joined the royal guards; silent sentinels who watched as they passed. Roland opened the door to Taliesin’s room after she used her magic to move the dresser blocking it. He looked inside, axe in hand, then motioned for her to enter.

  “I must make rounds to ensure none of the dukes were harmed,” he said, with a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll return as soon as I can, my love.”

  “Be careful, Roland. Arundel may try to harm you.”

  “Let him try—I’ll have an excuse to take his scaly head.”

  Roland kissed her again, leaving her more worried than before, and left with the Fregians. Bedwyn, Harmattan, and Simoon stood outside the room and did not enter. She closed the door and noticed the strong scent of lavender in the air. A loud laugh revealed Prince Sertorius, seated in the middle of her bed, his entrance to her room gained through the secret panel which remained open. She closed it with a wave of her hand and gave him a scathing look.

  “What are you doing here?” Taliesin asked. She stood at the end of the bed and placed the Raven Sword on a chest in front of her. One section of the drapes remained on the floor. She left it, and stared at him. “Answer me!”

  “My intentions are anything but honorable, cousin. The Fregians have every hallway guarded, and I came across several dead Wolfmen before I slipped into the secret passage and came to your room,” he said, holding up a bottle of wine with a drunken leer. “I intend to be seen leaving your room. No one will be able to deny I was here. I have decided to set aside my wife, for I have no doubt my grandfather wants you on the throne. If I did not know you better, I would say you had charmed the old man, but you do not use your magic for selfish ends. One day, this will be your downfall. If I had an ounce of your magic, cousin, I would rule the world.”

  Taliesin wasn’t concerned by his comments—it was Sertorius’ way of boasting and annoying her, something he had done as a child. She had enjoyed it then, but those days were long behind them.

  “It is not safe for you to be here,” she said. “Your brother met with Arundel, Calista, Wolfgar, and Lykus tonight. Almaric knows Arundel and my mother arranged to have your father killed; Dinadan was also part of it. The Eagle Clan are in league with Almaric, and even now the Wolf Clan are attempting to turn everyone in the city. The Blue Star knights have gone to kill them, but you would be safer in your own room. Roland has ordered the Fregians to kill any Wolfen on the grounds and to arrest those in human form. Arundel is the one who let them out. This isn’t some game, and while I understand you want to be seen so people will assume we were together, it’s a ridiculous plan. Being here with me will not make you a king, but it will get you a black eye if you try anything stupid.”

  “Yes, about their little conspiracy. It would appear Almaric’s truce is merely a pretense for his nefarious activities.” Sertorius paused to take a swig of wine from the mostly empty bottle. “Almaric paid me a call not long ago, and warned me to stay away from you. Someone cut off his finger, and I watched as he placed the severed finger on his hand and it reattached. I admit I stood too close to my brother.” He pulled the collar of his tunic aside, and puncture marks stood out on his neck. “One bite is all it takes to be cursed. A drop of human blood is what turns a man into a beast.”

  “What are you drinking?” Taliesin asked, alarmed.

  “This? Almaric gave it to me. You know what it is,” he replied. “It’s human blood, Rosamond.”

  “You must be under Arundel’s spell or you wouldn’t drink that. Put it down, Sertorius. Put it down before you turn Wolfen.”

  “Too late,” he snarled.

  Sertorius fell silent as he stared at her. His blue eyes turned amber, and fangs appeared as he flashed a smile. He hurled the bottle across the room and clawed at the bed quilt. Taliesin drew Ringerike and stepped back from the bed, horrified, as the prince turned into a large, black wolf and snarled as his shaggy body crouched on the mattress. Taliesin held her ground as Sertorius scrambled toward her. The sword produced a blue orb around her body. With a snarl, Sertorius slammed into it, only to be flung backwards onto the bed. He quivered from head to toe, fell unconscious, and turned into a naked man. Taliesin stared at Sertorius, and then looked up as the bedroom door banged open, and Harmattan and Simoon entered, swords drawn.

  “What is going on in here?” Simoon shouted. He stared at the shredded blankets, and the prince lying face down; Sertorius had retained a bushy tail. The lute on Simoon’s back let out a forlorn chord. “Was the prince bitten? Did you do it? He has a tail! Brother, contain him. Be quick!”

  Harmattan whipped a slender, silver chain off his arm, and used it to tie Sertorius’ hands behind his back.

  “Almaric visited Sertorius and bit him,” Taliesin said. “Simoon, I think it best if Sir Roland arrests Arundel and Lykus. Lykus must be bound with silver chains, and Arundel should be placed in a circle of salt, gagged, and bound with ropes dipped in salt water. It’s a trick Zarnoc told me about and should keep him from casting spells and escaping. As for Sertorius, I have a way to help him, but we need to make certain Dinadan has not been attacked.”

  Harmattan walked to the door. “Bring a net, and hurry!” He turned back to Taliesin. “I mean no disrespect, but Shan Octavio will not obey any ruler who is Wolfen, including you. If you fail to kill Varg, things will turn far worse.”

  “If you are warning me the Ghajar will go to war, I already know, Harmattan,” Taliesin said. “I have every intention of dealing with Varg and his owner. For the moment, I am committed to remaining here for the vote. Shan Octavio will have to trust me, and so will you and your brothers. I will make things right.”

  “With your magic?”

  “I cannot use magic on such a grand scale, Harmattan. Not even Zarnoc can use his magic to change the wills of men or gods, or undo what has already been done. He told me long ago other magic users would prevent him from using that kind of magic. I can only do so much,” Taliesin said, noting the way the gypsy squire frowned; he was not pleased with her response. Both brothers expecte
d her to be able to do more. No doubt everyone thought a sha’tar could perform miracles. Now wasn’t the time to explain how magic worked, or why her own lack of confidence prevented her from defeating her enemies.

  “You need to do whatever is necessary to put an end to this nightmare, Taliesin,” Harmattan said. “When the Hellirins get here, will you be able to stop them? What good is having a sword like Ringerike and being a natural-born witch if all you can do is react to what happens?”

  “A good question,” Simoon said.

  Fregian soldiers rushed into the room and threw a silver net over Sertorius. Sir Landrake arrived, furious, and pushed his way through the men. He glanced at Taliesin, made certain she was unharmed, and ordered the prince taken to his room. Taliesin ran to the fireplace to retrieve her small leather pouch from its hiding place. She glanced inside, removed the rook, and placed it on the floor. She imagined it no more than ten feet tall, so it would not destroy the ceiling, and clapped her hands three times.

  The black tower sprang upwards, ten feet tall and ten feet wide, and knocked aside the table and chairs. She opened the door and walked inside, finding everything compact, but just as she had left it. Three Broa necklaces were on the table, and as she picked them up as the Lorian items shouted at her, demanding to be released. The silver spoons that contained the Wolf Clan started to rattle in the bowl she’d left them in. She took the necklaces, made her apologies, and stepped out of the tower. She again clapped her hands three times, and the tower shrunk to the game piece, which she placed in the pouch. She turned to find the two Nova brothers staring at her in amazement.

  “Is that even possible?” Simoon asked. “Are my eyes deceiving me?”

  “That’s my Traveling Tower. It can get bigger. Much bigger.” Taliesin placed a necklace over her head, just in case, and walked to Sertorius. The Nova brothers opened the net, and she placed a Broa necklace over her cousin’s head. “This will keep him from turning. The other one is for Almaric.” She stepped back. “Take him to his room.”

  “Not so fast,” Sir Landrake said. He entered the room, took one look at Sertorius in the silver net, and caught Taliesin’s gaze. “Was he bitten? Did you do it?”

  “Almaric bit him. I was going to have Simoon and Harmattan take him to his room.”

  “Grand Master Roland has issued warrants for the arrest of Arundel and Lykus,” Sir Landrake said. “He sent me here to advise you of this. I have knights outside, and we’ll take Sertorius to his room, and make sure he stays there. Harmattan. Simoon. Stay here and guard the princess until Sir Roland is able to relieve you. Guards will also be posted outside the door. Is there anything you need before I leave?”

  Taliesin shook her head. “No, I’ll be all right. Thank you, Sir Landrake.”

  The knight grabbed the end of the net and dragged the prince out of her room. Harmattan shut the door and locked it, then helped his brother drag a heavy dresser in front of the secret panel to block it. Simoon sat near the fire and placed the lute on his lap, while Harmattan sat beside the door. It was impossible for Taliesin to change out of her gown with two men in her room. She lay down beside the Raven Sword, unfolded a blanket kept at the end of the bed, and tossed it over her shoulders.

  “I’ll play until you fall asleep,” Simoon said. “Harmattan, plug your ears. I don’t want you to fall asleep at your post, or Landrake will have our hides.”

  Harmattan stuck his fingers in his ears, nodded at his brother, and leaned back in the chair. As Simoon started to play, Taliesin tried to relax, found it difficult, and forced herself to listen to the music. Her eyes closed after a few strains from the magical lute. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she pictured Zarnoc at Penkill Castle, where he stood at the window of a rebuilt tower, gazing to the north. A sly smile played at the corners of the wizard’s lips as he looked right at Taliesin, then glanced over his shoulder to reveal Ismeina sleeping in his bed. He turned back to Taliesin, a lit pipe in his hand, and puffed on it, as she groaned in her sleep.

  “Zarnoc….”

  “I will be there tomorrow. Fear not, child,” the wizard said. “Until then, try to stop worrying about what you can or cannot do, when you have others to depend upon. Your beloved knight, Sir Roland has arrested Arundel and Lykus. Dinadan remains human; an inferior one, but still human, and that goes double for your ogre of a mother. And Mira has sided with you, so I would say things are working out quite well for us. Now stop thinking about me and go to sleep. As you can see, I have company.”

  Taliesin snuggled into her pillow, no longer hearing the music of the lute, as Zarnoc’s face was replaced by Roland’s, and she felt a soft kiss on her forehead. She blinked to make certain she was awake, and knew for sure she was when his heavy body sank onto the bed beside her, still dressed in his armor. In the glow of the fireplace, his eyes appeared dark and filled with concern. Harmattan and Simoon had left the chamber. She reached for him with a sigh, and he took her hand and kissed it.

  “All is in place. The villains are locked up. Almaric has returned to his room and is now under guard, and so are his brothers,” Roland said, his voice a deep rumble. “I heard what happened with Sertorius. One day, I may cut off his tail.”

  “Then snip Almaric’s too.”

  “It’s the Wolf Prince’s head I want, my love. The Blue Stars have put an end to his night raid in the city and have strung up the offenders by their heels. The castle is quiet at last. Come tomorrow, we will have a new king…and queen.”

  Taliesin closed her eyes. “I will marry the Grand Master of the White Stags or none at all,” she whispered. Her thoughts faded, and she finally fell into a deep sleep.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sunlight streamed through narrow stained-glass windows and painted the Moon Chamber in bright colors. Taliesin sat at the end of a row of chairs, beside Sertorius, with Dinadan and Almaric to his left, before the High Council, which was entrenched behind a table that formed a ‘U’ in the center of the room. Lord Chancellor Ungus Cavell sat at the center of the table with the rest of the dukes flanking him.

  The gallery and balcony were filled with nobles, knights, and rich citizens. Roland and the Knights of the White Stag sat in the front row, along with Xander and Phelon, who whispered together. The dukes’ soldiers, twenty per duke, stood along the walls, while the royal guards formed a line at the main doorway to keep back a large crowd that arrived too late to find seats.

  Taliesin felt awkward without Ringerike. The sword was in the possession of Sir Roland, out of her reach, but she sensed Ringerike was anxious about the proceedings. Voices muttered in the audience as Duke Volund stood, turned his attention to Taliesin, and shook his right fist in the air.

  “Were you aware King Frederick was poisoned prior to your arrival at the palace? Or did you learn about this tragedy after the fact? I happen to know a message was sent to Penkill Castle asking you to come to Padama, yet you arrived late, Princess Rosamond; too late to save the king.”

  “The question is ridiculous, especially since the Old Laws nullify any wrongdoing on my part,” she muttered and heard Sertorius snicker.

  “What’s that?” Volund asked in a haughty tone.

  “The message concerning the king’s health was sent by Lord Arundel through imposters, who I might add, appeared at Penkill Castle in the likeness of Sir Tamal and the Nova squires. I was not present when they arrived,” Taliesin said, holding the duke’s gaze. “You should be more concerned, my Lord, that Arundel used dark magic to attempt to deceive me into coming to Padama. Further, when the message arrived, I was a prisoner of Prince Sertorius. After I escaped and finally made it to Padama, Lord Arundel turned me over to the Wolf Clan, who dragged me through the sewers in order to sneak me into Prince Almaric’s camp. I again escaped, and I decided to free the prisoners Prince Dinadan had arrested under false chargers. Since the king was already dead by that time, I offered to assist Duke Andre Rigelus in learning the identities of those who mu
rdered King Frederick Draconus.”

  Dinadan smacked his lips. “Dragged through the sewers,” he said, “then dragged into the family crypt. It’s not a very humane way of treating the niece of the king. As for the prisoners whom I arrested, I had my reasons.”

  “Nor have you been asked to answer for them,” Volund retorted.

  “Enough,” Lord Ungus snapped. “Sit down, Duke Volund. When I asked if anyone had anything to offer by way of evidence concerning the death of King Frederick, I did not mean for you to start down this path. I wanted Duke Andre to provide the results of his investigation before we vote for our next ruler. The necessity of arresting the Wolf Clan last night, and Arundel’s foolish decision to release them into the city streets, is of greater concern than whether the king’s niece was aware he was in need of her healing touch. At least we all agree Princess Rosamond is a sha’tar, and can heal the injured or sick, and through Doomsayer, was able to speak to the dead. Wouldn’t you prefer to hear what the princess learned in the crypt?”

  Almaric sprawled on the couch. “Many of my men were slaughtered last night by the Blue Stars, yet no one seems to care,” he grumbled. “Stop sucking on your fingers, Din-wit.”

  With a sweep of his large hand, Almaric knocked the plate off Dinadan’s lap and grabbed his brother’s arm to keep him from retrieving his pear. Laughter came from the gallery; deep guffaws and snickers. Dinadan angrily wiped his sticky hands on his tunic and pouted as a servant fetched the plate and pear slices off the floor.

  “Volund, this line of questioning is not helping,” Almaric continued. “Do what my grandfather asks and place your fat carcass back in your chair and shut up.”