Queen of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

Taliesin was more relieved than she thought possible. Zarnoc’s arrival had ended Arundel’s and Xander’s hold on the castle, and she smelled lavender and sandalwood, making her aware the White Witch cast spells no one else had noticed, calming the royal court.

  “Duke Fakar, resume your seat,” Lord Ungus said. “The Raven Clan will kindly remember this is a formal proceeding and refrain from any further remarks or introductions, until this matter is concluded.” He waited until Fakar returned to his seat.

  Princess Calista sat in a chair against the wall. Shan Octavio, Hawk, Rook, Wren, Tamblyn, Ursus, and Ismeina withdrew to stand behind Taliesin and the princes. Zarnoc stood in front of the seated princes and Taliesin, holding his staff. Once the court was quiet, he offered a regal bow to the High Council.

  “Zarnoc of the Lorians, uncle of King Korax Sanqualus, you have been summoned to produce Calaburn,” Lord Ungus said. “A prince must be chosen to be king, and that king will marry Princess Rosamond. To be fair to the sons of King Frederick Draconus, Princess Calista has suggested the sword of Prince Tarquin Draconus decide the matter. The High Council has agreed to stand by its decision.”

  “Not me,” Dinadan said, with a sniffle.

  “But I agree,” Almaric growled.

  Sertorius smiled as he reached for Taliesin’s hand. “I am rather fond of that sword,” he said. “I know the sword feels the same. Calaburn will pick me; we will finally be together, cousin.”

  “Proceed, wizard,” Lord Ungus said.

  “First things first, Lord Ungus Cavell,” Zarnoc said. He turned to Taliesin and held out his hand. “I believe you have in your possession an item that belongs to me—I refer to the Traveling Tower. May I have it, my Lady? Calaburn is inside, along with a few other things pertinent to these proceedings. If you are to be crowned queen, the Lorian royal court should be present. Ringerike has chosen you to be the Raven Queen, and this is too momentous an occasion to keep King Korax’s court from enjoying the rise of the Raven Clan. I have no doubt Calaburn wants you.”

  Taliesin retrieved the chess piece, stood, and placed it in Zarnoc’s hand. He turned to Sir Roland as he lifted Ringerike into the air. The sword flew across the chamber into Taliesin’s hand, and she placed it over her arm. All three princes stood, but only Sertorius looked impressed. Zarnoc waved his hand, and the four chairs slid out of the way as he placed the small tower on the floor.

  “Inside is not only Calaburn, but the missing Wolf Clan members,” Zarnoc said. “Allow Ismeina, Prince Tamblyn, and me to present the court of King Korax to you, my Lords. They should witness the selection of a Draconus prince to marry their Sanqualus heir, if Calaburn does pick a prince. If this is done, I assure you the ghosts that haunt this castle will be at peace. Tantalon Castle was built over Black Castle, as you all know. Do I have your permission to retrieve the Wolf Clan and Tarquin’s sword, Chancellor Ungus?”

  “Yes, please do so, wizard. We are all waiting.”

  Taliesin wondered if Calaburn would select her. The Raven Sword wasn’t certain, and offered no insight as it vibrated in her grip. Zarnoc clapped his hands three times, and the tower grew to an accommodating size as the audience gasped. Those seated in the gallery stood, including Roland and the White Stag knights, and people pushed the royal guards aside to take a closer look at the black tower. Zarnoc motioned for Ismeina and Tamblyn to join him, and waited near the door of the tower with a wide smile on his face. Ursus sprouted into a giant polar bear, tail wagging, as he walked beside Tamblyn and the witch.

  “We will not be long,” Zarnoc sang out, and took Ismeina by the hand. With Tamblyn and the bear cub in tow, they entered the tower.

  “Well played, cousin,” Sertorius whispered. “I have one request.” He stroked the iron nail that hung from the golden strand of hair. “If you have another one of these, Rosamond, please give it to Almaric.” He waited while she fished around in her pouch and produced another necklace, which he took from her and held up by the golden strand of hair. “Indulge me, brother. Put this necklace on—I want to see if it calms you as it has calmed me, especially since you have a greater need.”

  “A strand of gold hair and an iron nail,” Almaric grumbled. “It is not the type of wedding gift a bride should give to a groom, but I will wear it if it pleases you, Rosamond.” He slid the strand of hair around his neck. The nail landed with a thud on his breastplate as he adjusted his long blond hair. He pulled on the strand, trying to break it, but it resisted and remained firm. As he fiddled with the iron nail, he relaxed and gave Taliesin a quick smile. She had to give credit to Sertorius, for he had subdued Almaric before Calaburn made its selection.

  “Never take it off,” Taliesin said.

  “Thank you.” Almaric approached Taliesin. “I feel...better. My hatred for my brothers and everyone not Wolfen has lessened considerably. My bride deserves to be surrounded by her friends. Would it please you, Rosamond, if I sent my brothers to the Isles of Valen, and allowed the Raven Clan to live here?”

  “Yes. I’d like that, Almaric.” Taliesin was startled when Almaric placed his hand on her shoulder, and the Raven Sword let out a whine in objection.

  “You could love me, then?” Almaric said. “You have seen me at my worst. The necklace has broken Ragnal’s hold on me, and I feel as if a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Now you can know the real me, Rosamond. Your gift has freed me from my dark thoughts.”

  “I could love a kind and compassionate king.”

  Captain Wolfgar appeared in the gallery, and shoved his way to the front with Master Phelon and Master Xander. Taliesin cringed to see both men’s eyes were amber; they would turn the moment Calaburn picked anyone other than Almaric. Her breath quickened as Almaric kissed her cheek, and she gazed at the black tower, hoping Zarnoc would emerge with Calaburn, but no one appeared in the entrance.

  “I need to check on my friends,” Taliesin said, worried. “Something is wrong.”

  Sertorius nodded. “I will go with you,” he said.

  “So will I,” Almaric said, with a bow of his head.

  Lord Ungus gave Taliesin a nod of approval. The old man leaned against the edge of his chair, and as she approached the tower, she noticed the dukes had placed their swords, many of them magical, on the table. It struck her as an odd thing to do, then she noticed Xander’s fingers moving. Shan Octavio, Tamal, Jaelle, and the Nova brothers stood together, and Sir Roland had joined them. The Shan had drawn Retaliator and Roland held Moonbane, as if both expected trouble.

  “You smell it, don’t you? Burnt feathers—a sign of dark magic,” Sertorius said as they approached the door of the tower. “Is it Arundel’s work?”

  “Xander’s magic,” Taliesin whispered. “He is the one who caused all the trouble in the Moon Chamber this morning. “

  “Move aside, brother. I will enter if you are afraid,” Almaric snapped. “I want to see what is inside this curious tower.”

  A loud commotion came from inside the tower. Hearing the shouts from within, Roland, Tamal, Sirocco, Khamsin, Harmattan, and Simoon rushed past Taliesin and the two princes. The gypsies had drawn their silver swords and Roland held Moonbane high as he opened the door.

  “We will take care of this,” Roland shouted. “The rest of you stand clear.”

  The grand master did not wait for Taliesin to respond and charged through the door with his men and the Ghajar. It made little sense to Taliesin that Shan Octavio and Jaelle ran after them, for they had no cause to enter, yet they went inside, and more loud shouts followed.

  “Maybe the Wolf Clan is no longer spoons, or the enchantment on Korax’s court is broken,” Taliesin said. “I had better go in; you two should wait.”

  Almaric grabbed her arm to hold her back as Sertorius laughed and walked through the door, which instantly slammed shut, and the tower vanished from sight. Taliesin lowered her sword, and sagged against Almaric. He wrapped an arm around her, yet glared at her accusingly.

  “Where have they gone? What
trickery is this, cousin?” Almaric asked in a demanding tone As his fingers dug into her shoulder. “Is this Zarnoc’s idea or yours? Bring them back this second! I will be crowned king and wed you before the moon rises.”

  “It’s Ragnal,” Taliesin said. “It’s the only logical explanation. Ragnal must have been waiting inside for them, cousin.” He lowered his arm and pushed her aside. “I didn’t do this, Almaric. I wanted a king to be picked as much as you did.”

  “Well, that can’t happen now.”

  “My Lords, I will figure this out. Zarnoc is not playing tricks on us. Someone summoned my clan and loved ones into that tower.” Taliesin felt a rush of panic, worse than she already felt, as the dukes gathered in a circle. Their voices were low, but she suspected they took a vote. “Almaric, did you sense Ragnal? Is he trying to contact you now?”

  Almaric removed the necklace and handed it to her. “I no longer want this,” he said. “This was planned ahead of time by you and that pesky, no good, Lorian wizard. You will be sorry you played me, madam. You are left with only Fakar’s bastard and his little Wren wife. What good are they in a battle? A battle you best prepare for, cousin.”

  With a fierce look, Almaric stormed off, with Master Phelon and Captain Wolfgar in tow. Xander leaned against the railing of the gallery, caught her gaze, and quietly applauded. Taliesin clutched the Broa necklace in her fist, wanting to turn Xander into a fish and let him flop about on the floor.

  Rook and Wren ran to her. The young captain was furious, and Wren had turned pale, and quivered with fright.

  “What are we going to do?” Wren asked. “You heard Almaric.”

  “Who cares? The Wolf Prince is gone,” Dinadan said, laughing. “Sertorius, that snake, is also gone. They’re all gone! Now, someone fetch the crown and let’s make this official. Crown me King, Grandfather, and arrange for me to marry Rosamond this very night. I will not wait any longer.”

  “You won’t bed her,” Rook muttered.

  “No, but I won’t tell anyone, if you won’t, Heir of Erindor.” Dinadan ran to the front of the table and held out his hand. “The crown is mine. Give it to me!”

  “You are King by default, Dinadan, not by vote,” Lord Ungus cried out. He looked over heads to meet Taliesin’s gaze. “Where has Zarnoc taken them?”

  “I have no idea where they are, Lord Ungus, but it is not Zarnoc’s doing,” Taliesin said. “Rook, we need to go to my chambers. I have the Deceiver’s Map, and it will show us where they went. Ask Bedwyn and Landrake to accompany us; I fear for our safety.”

  Rook hurried to do her bidding, but Wren remained beside Taliesin, trembling, and stared at the place where the tower had stood. As mystified as the rest of the court, Taliesin noticed her mother’s smile, cold and cunning, and shivered.

  “Perhaps Arundel is not quite so helpless,” Taliesin whispered as she took Wren’s arm. Ringerike glowed a soft blue. “Stay close to me.”

  Seeing a helpless look from Duke Andre, Taliesin shook her head, unable to offer any encouragement or hope. She watched, horrified, as Lord Ungus leaned over the table to place the crown on Dinadan’s head. The dukes and the old man bowed.

  “I am King!” Dinadan shouted.

  “Pray it lasts longer than a day, boy,” Lord Ungus replied, “for we go to war with Almaric. Ready your troops, my Lords. Guards, arrest those who stand against us; none who fight for Almaric can leave this hall!” He turned to Taliesin, a disappointed look on his wrinkled face. “I hope you can locate Sertorius and your clan, dear girl. I have no choice but to release Lord Arundel so he can lead his Eagle legionaries into battle against Almaric, but Lykus will remain a prisoner. When you discover what happened, find me, and we will talk. There will be no wedding tonight. Not now.”

  “I think she has done quite enough talking, Lord Ungus,” Calista purred as she glided toward the old man. “If Rosamond cannot produce results, I think it quite clear she would make an unsuitable queen. No, my Lords. My daughter has made it clear she did not come here to help the House of Draconus; she means to destroy it. I want her arrested.”

  “You may desire it, Calista, but I will not do it,” Lord Ungus said. “Guards, take Calista to her room and keep her there. The rest of you come with me.”

  “Arrest me? What have I done?” Calista cried out as she was dragged off by royal guards. “You will be sorry! Arundel will make you sorry for treating me this way!”

  “There goes a heartless old bitch,” Wren said. “I am so sorry for your sake, Taliesin. You do not deserve a mother like that. Her years at the abbey left her to stew in hatred. There is nothing you could have done to change her.”

  “My mother had Arundel kill her own brother.”

  Wren’s mouth dropped. “What?”

  “It’s true. Ungus knows it, but he releases Arundel anyway.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Find our friends,” Taliesin said in a stern voice.

  Accompanied by Landrake, Bedwyn, Rook, and Wren, Taliesin led the way out of the Moon Chamber and headed to the north wing, disgusted she had not foreseen what would happen, and frightened Zarnoc had fallen for a trap. The truce was over, thousands would now die, and she imagined Ragnal laughing on top of his mountain.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Tristakus. Come to me, my friend,” Taliesin whispered.

  She stood in her dragon-scale armor, Ringerike strapped on her back, in the northern tower and listened to the sounds of battle as Almaric’s army besieged the outer walls of Padama. Not all the Wolfmen inside Tantalon Castle had been caught, and many more had managed to get onto the castle grounds; there was fighting between the Wolf Clan and the King’s Men in the courtyard below. She had looked at the Deceiver’s Map earlier and found Chief Lykus, freed from his cell by his son, Phelon, and Wolfgar fighting their way through palace guards.

  Almaric, located outside the city, had ordered the attack on the walls. Lord Arundel and his Eagle legionaries defended the castle and grounds, while soldiers from the loyal dukes gathered on the battlements. Archers fired at enemy soldiers in the streets outside the castle, but the city, left unprotected, burned. Andre, Elric, Hercule, and Fakar fought with their men. Bedwyn, Landrake, and Gavin had joined their orders, and Taliesin left Rook and Wren in her bedchamber. The magical map refused to tell Taliesin where Zarnoc, Roland, and the rest of her friends had been taken, as she’d expected, and her last resort was to summon the gold dragon from Ascalon Castle.

  Dragons knew everything, but sadly, Tristakus was the last of his kind on the continent. Dragons had fought against King Magnus in the Magic Wars and been slaughtered, except for Tristakus. “Tristakus” was his secret name, guarded like his treasure in the ruins of Prince Tarquin Draconus’ castle, far away in Fregia. The dragon went by a common name, “Bonaparte,” known by the people who knew he existed. Phelon had seen the giant dragon turn into his human form and knew she had acquired Tarquin’s ring and flaming sword from the dragon’s hoard, but Phelon did not know the secret name of the dragon. She said it again, hoping the dragon would hear, for he had promised to come when her need was great. She searched the sky, filled with smoke from fires throughout the city, and shivered when she heard screams and shouts carried on the breeze. Hopefully, the dragon would know where to find Zarnoc, Roland, and her friends. She pictured Thalagar, her winged horse, impatiently pawing the stable floor, as he waited for her at Penkill Castle. She wanted to be with Thalagar, but she needed the dragon right now.

  But the dragon did not come.

  “What are you doing out here?” Wren asked as she emerged from the stairwell. “The castle is under attack, Taliesin. We have to find Zarnoc and Ismeina. Are you trying to contact them? Is it working?”

  “No,” Taliesin said.

  The girl was frightened. A heavy catapult salvo crashed into the castle walls; Almaric’s men had adjusted the distance and struck true. Wren slid her arms around Taliesin and rested her head upon T
aliesin’s shoulder. The Raven Sword let out a soft whine in an attempt to comfort Wren.

  “Come back inside,” Wren said. “No one is left to guard us, Taliesin. The knights left an hour ago and so did Rook.”

  “What do you mean? Where did Rook go? And why didn’t you go with him?”

  “He went to speak with his father in the small library. They have much to discuss, Rook said. I didn’t want to go with him, but I didn’t want to be alone either,” Wren replied. She took Taliesin’s hand and placed it on her stomach. Her garments helped hide the fact she was pregnant, but Taliesin felt a slight kick beneath her palm. “You felt it, didn’t you? I know it’s a boy; he kicked hard the moment I laid eyes on Duke Dhul Fakar. Rook looks so much like his father. I thought I would hate Fakar, but I don’t. I think Rook has forgiven him, too.”

  Taliesin gave a nod. “Congratulations on your wedding, Wren. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for the ceremony. Come. I’ll take you back to my room.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Why did you come out here? Will you summon another rain storm to put out the fires? Or will you summon a great wind to blow Almaric’s army clear to the Pangian Sea?”

  “I have summoned a dragon to come to our aid,” Taliesin said, and laughed at Wren’s startled expression. “I guess I should have told you and the others about Bonaparte. I met a gold dragon a few weeks ago at Ascalon. We became friends, and he promised to help when I had need of him. I tried to summon a storm, but the air feels stagnant, and my magic won’t work. I fear Arundel and Xander are stronger than me, Wren. The dark magic that surrounds this place has increased tenfold. Bonaparte can reach us—no magic can hold a dragon. When he gets here, the three of us will ride on his back and go to Ascalon.”

  “Why that old castle?”

  “Because I have a feeling Zarnoc and Roland are now on Mt. Helos. This was Ragnal’s doing; I just know it. Bonaparte will have answers. Why doesn’t he come?”

  Flaming hay bales, fired by the catapults, flew over the castle walls, and Wren screamed as the fire spread to the garden. Servants rushed to form a bucket brigade, using water from a well to douse the flames. A frantic feeling enveloped Taliesin, carried across the city by a northern breeze; a reminder death was coming for them. Wren pulled on her; she wanted to leave, but Taliesin watched the fires spread to the slums and poorer communities. Huts with thatched roofs would burn fast. She doubted the soldiers or the king’s guards would attempt to organize a water brigade to put out the flames, even if they were in the city and not the castle. She again tried to summon rain, but not a drop fell. She focused on the moon, thought of Mira, and a gust arrived. It blew out the flames in the castle, but the city still burned.