Queen of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  “Oh, I suppose I knew what would happen,” the wizard said. “As for me, I must return General Folando’s body to Nethalburg. Shan Octavio must leave to join his tribes, though I promised to later take him to visit his daughter, Queen Jaelle, but not today. However, I must be present for Folando’s funeral. I’ll then return here, to Mt. Helos, for Ismeina and I intend to open a magic school. Someone has to retrain all these magic users and train new ones, as well.”

  “Not everyone is born with magic like Taliesin. What she does with it in the future is her own business, but you may always attend my classes,” Ismeina said, sliding her sword into a scabbard. “We might even open a school to train dragon riders, though we will have to send someone to search in faraway lands in order to find any hatchlings.”

  “Oh, they are around, Ismeina,” Bonaparte rumbled. “But I think Taliesin has other things to do with her time, you two. Magic is not her first priority. I congratulate you, Roland, on a well-fought victory, and for winning the heart of our Taliesin.”

  Glancing at Taliesin, Roland kissed the top of her head.

  The Hellirins, led by Captain Tillion, who now carried Venom, walked past. General Folando was dead, and his body on a litter the Hellirins had hoisted onto their shoulders and covered with a purple clock. The Hellirins filed into the Traveling Tower. Taliesin knew Akyres Folando would be buried beside with his beloved Dolabra, and she took hold of Roland’s hand as a number of dead Caladonians were also carried inside the tower. The Hellirins had selected the best Caladonian warriors to resurrect, but they also took the carcass of the dead wolf, Lykus; she imagined it would make a fine cloak for one of the Hellirin rulers. As the tower grew to accommodate those who entered, Hawk offered a salute.

  “‘General’ Tillion thought Queen Jaelle might like a wolf fur,” Hawk said, “and he thought I might like a little gold.” He held up a heavy bag and gave it a jingle. “Tillion asked me to pay a visit to Nethalburg one day, and we will drink, play cards, and talk about….”

  “To do that, bird brain, you would have to be dead,” Taliesin reminded her friend. She was amused when Hawk dropped his jaw. “I don’t think he was trying to trick you, but simply pay you his respect; a Hellirin invitation is an honor. And it’s also both a good thing and then not.” She thought of Dolabra offering to kill her, and then asking her to dinner, and knew at some point she must return to Nethalburg to pay her respects to the dead.

  Zarnoc gave Taliesin a knowing smile. “His full name is Tillion Lancaster,” he said. “I suspect you might recognize that name, Taliesin, or at least you should. Tillion was in the Order of the Raven, and he was one of the best knights in King Korax’s court. When he died in battle, Korax sent his body to Folando. Tillion has hundreds of stories to tell about the Raven Knights and the Black Castle, but you will have to wait to hear them, Captain Hawk. As for you, Taliesin, I have no doubt you will meet Tillion again one day, and you can ask him to spin you a yarn.”

  Taliesin suspected there were quite a few of Korax’s old friends among the Hellirins. She wondered how many of Korax’s old knights had fought beside them that day, and whether Roland was interested in starting a new order; the Order of the Raven.

  “Now that there is peace in the land, what will Tillion do?” she asked.

  “I suppose Tillion will marry Madera on his return,” the wizard said. He eyed Roland and smirked. “A general needs a companion, and Madera has always been fond of Tillion. Now, I have been forgetful, and I must take care of a problem; I need my cat.”

  With a snap of his fingers, Ginger, a large orange cat, appeared in the wizard’s arms. Zarnoc truly was the most powerful of all magic users, she thought. Perhaps she would pay a visit to Mt. Helos to study magic, but she reconsidered when the cat took one look at her and hissed.

  “Ginger still doesn’t like you, but I do.” Zarnoc petted the cat and chuckled. “Fear not, Taliesin; I will see you and Roland again. I imagine at a wedding. Hmm? Something tells me you will not marry Prince Sertorius, since he already has a wife, and I believe you have found your equal. Be good to each other. If you can’t trust your spouse, who can you trust, eh?”

  “Is that a proposal?” Ismeina asked.

  “Not in the least, my dear.”

  With a chuckle, the wizard walked off with his cat, and was joined by Ismeina, looking wild-haired and excited from the battle. They shared a quick kiss and together walked passed Sertorius and Kull, engaged in a brotherly conversation. Zarnoc scooped up the two pieces of Doomsayer before he headed to the tower; the gold sword disappeared inside his cloak. When the wizard and witch stood outside the tower, Zarnoc handed the cat to Ismeina and clapped his hands three times. The tower shrunk into a small chess piece, which he placed it in his robe. Then, taking hold of Ismeina’s hand, Zarnoc snapped his fingers and the trio vanished.

  “I’ll miss that old man,” Hawk said as he tossed his arm around Bonaparte. “With your blessing, Raven Mistress, Bonaparte and I have decided to pay a visit to Akrillae. After all, someone has to search for dragon hatchlings. I am sure you and Roland can handle things here without me. Kull and Sertorius have smoothed things out, and I don’t suppose Bonaparte and I will be missed.”

  “Bonaparte will miss Taliesin,” the dragon-man said.

  “It is good to have peace,” Kull said, his voice carrying to Taliesin. She glanced toward Kull as he stuck his hand out to Sertorius, who grasped his brother’s hand and shook it hard. They both turned to Shan Octavio, who stood nearby with his Ghajar warriors at his side. Both kings shook Octavio’s hand, and Taliesin hoped it meant the gypsies would be able to travel wherever they wanted and would be welcomed when they arrived.

  Kull signaled his warriors with a whistle and headed to the gate. The remaining soldiers and knights formed ranks before King Sertorius. Khamsin, Sirocco, and Simoon bowed to Sertorius and stood beside Shan Octavio. Tamal, Landrake, and Bedwyn saluted Roland, bowed to their new monarch, and stood with their Grand Master. Taliesin watched, slightly amused, wondering what Captain Ramla would do when he arrived with the remaining Red Cobras; the Erindorians stood before King Sertorius and bowed.

  “Sir Tamal, will you leave with your father?” Roland asked as he grinned at the square-jawed knight. “You have learned much and redeemed your honor. I release you from your vow to the White Stags, as well as the Nova brothers. I’m sure Landrake and Bedwyn will find new squires soon enough.”

  “Of course not,” the two knights said.

  Shan Octavio stared at his son. “Indeed, you have redeemed your honor, my son. I would be pleased to have you return with us,” he said, embracing Tamal and kissing his cheeks. “You will make a fine Shan, one day.”

  “I have decided to remain with the White Stags,” Tamal replied. “I will miss you, Khamsin, Simoon, and Sirocco. Perhaps you will come to Fregia and visit me?” The brothers nodded. “But what will you do, Grand Master? Return to Fregia with the White Stags or return to the Raven Clan?”

  “Yes, tell us, Roland Brisbane,” King Sertorius said in a commanding voice. “What are your intentions? It’s important I know, since I have yet to decide to keep Lenora as my wife or look to Rosamond.” He held Calaburn across his arm. “I can tell by your expression, Grand Master Sir Roland, you intend to stay with…Taliesin, the Raven Mistress. I have my answer, and will return to Padama with both my army and my prisoners, and I will send for my wife, Lenora. I am not without appreciation for your sacrifice, Taliesin, for I owe you and Roland heartfelt thanks. Not only for me, but for our country. You will always be welcome at Tantalon Castle.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Roland said. “However, it is my intention to remain with the Raven Clan. I have picked Sir Bedwyn to be the next Grand Master of the White Stags.” He glanced at Taliesin, for she needed to respond to the king, and Ringerike gave her back a soft thump.

  “Rook remains with my clan, so you’ll need a new duke for Erindor,” Taliesin said. “I suggest you pick Captain Ramla, Your Hig
hness. Rook and Wren will stay with the Raven King, and Rook is the Captain of the Black Wings.” She heard Hawk snort, for as far as he knew, Rook was a swan and would always be a swan. The king gave her a thoughtful look, and she continued. “Duke Andre is the only duke who survived. You will have to rebuild your High Council with trusted men, and Ramla is trustworthy.”

  “Very well. I agree to your request, cousin,” Sertorius said as he turned to Captain Ramla. “Let the dukedom of Erindor be your reward for leading the Red Cobras to victory, Duke Ramla. Since I really do not want to be bothered with prisoners, you may take possession of those who offend the crown and do what you want with them. But, there will be no more slavery. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, King Sertorius, and thank you,” Duke Anwar ben Ramla said as he bowed low. He lifted his hand, and the Red Cobras collected the prisoners and marched out the gates under the Erindor banner.

  Taliesin thought about how Ramla’s fate had changed since they met. The momentary discomfort at Wolf’s Den led to his rescue and subsequent arrival at Mt. Helos, where once more he battled the Wolf Pack. The honorable Ramla was now a wealthy man; his wife and his father would live in style. The members of Fakar’s family would not be left penniless, for she knew Ramla would take care of them. Shan Octavio took hold of Taliesin’s hand, kissed it, and motioned to the Ghajar to mount their horses. The Nova brothers bid Sir Tamal farewell, and soon the Ghajar rode from the fortress, trilling their tongues as they rode through the gates.

  “Cousin, what about you? What do you want?” Sertorius crossed his arms over his chest, an amused look on his handsome face.

  “I claim Penkill Castle, the Raven oak tree, lands in Tannenberg Forest, and Ascalon Castle as my reward,” Taliesin said, smiling widely. It was almost a straight line from Fregia into Maldavia, and she thought she’d chosen well. “The Raven Clan will be strong once more. We will rebuild Raven’s Nest, and from Ascalon I can keep my eyes on the border, and on you. We won’t be scavengers anymore, but tradesmen. Nor will the Eagle Clan or Wolf Clan be allowed to rebuild; we will be the only clan in your kingdom.”

  Sertorius reached out to tap Taliesin beneath her chin. “This is the least I can do, but you are no mere mistress. You will now be called the Raven Queen,” he said. “I see no reason not to give you the lands you ask for, or such a grand title, and all the rights attributed to the royalty you are. Does that please you, Sir Roland? I see it does. I know you love the red-haired witch. We all do, but she belongs with you. No one else can handle her; it will be a full-time job.”

  Roland grumbled something under his breath.

  “We will be on hand should you need us in the future,” Taliesin said as she slid her arm around Roland’s.

  “Knights, come with me,” King Sertorius said. The White Stags and the Blue Stars filed in beside the king, and a horse was found and led forward. Sertorius mounted, held his sword high, and led his army out of the palace to return to Padama.

  With a loud whinny, Thalagar flew across the courtyard and landed beside Taliesin and Roland. Hawk caught Taliesin’s arm before she could mount the horse.

  “You gave away a kingdom for a strip of land, the ruins of two castles, and an old tree,” Hawk said. “It must be the smallest kingdom in the world, Taliesin.”

  “It will be enough, Hawk,” Bonaparte said with a gleam in his dark eyes. “From Ascalon Castle, she has a bird’s eye view of all the realms. You also forget the most important thing, my friend; what lies beneath the ruins of Ascalon now belongs to the Raven Queen. She will be richer than King Sertorius, Talas Kull, Queen Jaelle, and King Tamblyn combined.”

  “That rich, you say?” Hawk said, his eyes filled with greed and excitement. “Before we go, Bonaparte, we must look in on my sister, Rook, and their baby. Of course, if Taliesin can turn Rook and Wren back into people, I will not have to worry about my sister living in a nest all her life, or my niece to have birds for parents.”

  “I think I can manage it, Hawk,” Taliesin said, laughing.

  “Remember, Raven Queen; Nature rules magic. No king or queen can contain it or conqueror it,” Bonaparte stated, “but they can control it, with a little respect. I believe a new age of peace has come to this part of the world. Guard it well, Taliesin. Now come along, Hawk. We have miles ahead of us, and a new adventure awaits.”

  “I can’t say ‘no’ to that.” Hawk embraced Taliesin. “See you next year. I’ll return with fantastic stories, maybe a few hatchlings, and I hope you and Roland will have a few stories to tell us, as well.” As he walked off with Bonaparte, he added, “About that secret name of yours? Just what is it, my dragon friend?”

  Thalagar brushed his nose against Taliesin’s back and stomped a front hoof, anxious to leave. Taliesin noticed a few Lorian and Hellirin magic users had remained in Mt. Helos, perhaps to be teachers at Zarnoc’s and Ismeina’s school. They used magic to separate the weapons and armor from the dead, who they placed in a large pile to be set on fire. It had grown strangely quiet with the departure of everyone else, and she lifted her head as she heard the roar of a dragon and caught sight of Hawk on Bonaparte’s back, waving as they flew into the clouds. It was time for them to go, and she rubbed the horse’s nose.

  “Let’s go look at our new domain,” Taliesin said. “I’ll sit in front, so you can put your arms around me. But hold on tight, Sir Roland.”

  Roland laughed in response and slid Moonbane into its scabbard on his back. He stood back as Taliesin climbed into the saddle and held out her hand to him. Roland took it and climbed up behind her. The stallion snorted and tossed his glossy mane.

  “Maybe we can raise a few fledglings of our own,” Taliesin said as she turned toward Roland. “What do you think?”

  “I haven’t asked you to marry me,” Roland replied. “Isn’t it my job to propose? Or, have you taken on the tradition of the Skardan women-folk?”

  “You forget, Grudge, I am the Raven Queen, and I can do what I want, when I want. I also happen to love you. Now answer me, or I’ll knock you out of the saddle.”

  “What do you think, woman? A queen does need a king.”

  The horse galloped forward with a loud snort, spread his wings, and flew into the air. Thalagar soared over the palace as the people gathered below cheered. She did not know if it was for her or for Sertorius, but it didn’t matter. The horse sailed into the clouds and headed toward Penkill Castle. She smiled as Roland’s arms tightened around her waist, and she felt his face press against the back of her neck.

  “Yes, is my answer,” he whispered in her ear.

  For the moment, Taliesin had no responsibilities and no concerns other than soaring with Roland among the clouds…like ravens.

  # # # # #

  About the Author

  Susanne L. Lambdin is the author of the Dead Hearts and Realm of Magic series of novels. A Trekkie at heart, she received a ‘based in part’ screen credit for writing a portion of Star Trek: The Next Generation: Season 4, Episode 76, titled ‘Family’. She is passionate about all things science fiction, horror, and high fantasy. Susanne is an expert on the subject of zombies, and is affectionately known by many of her fans as ‘The Zombie Lady.’ She lives in Kansas with her family and two dogs.

  To contact Susanne and to learn more about her current and upcoming projects, visit www.SusanneLambdin.com or Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/susanne.lambdin

  For more information about forthcoming releases from Theogony Books, join the mailing list at http://chriskennedypublishing.com.

  * * * * *

  Also by Susanne L. Lambdin

  REALM OF MAGIC SERIES:

  Seeker of Magic

  Mistress of Magic

  Queen of Magic

  THE DEAD HEARTS SERIES:

  Morbid Hearts

  Forsaken Hearts

  Vengeful Hearts

  Defiant Hearts

  Immortal Hearts

  * * * * *

  The following is an

  Exce
rpt from Book One of The Milesian Accords:

  A Reluctant Druid

  ___________________

  Jon R. Osborne

  Available now from Theogony Books

  eBook, Paperback, and (soon) Audio

  Excerpt from “A Reluctant Druid:”

  “Don’t crank on it; you’ll strip it.”

  Liam paused from trying to loosen the stubborn bolt holding the oil filter housing on his Yamaha motorcycle, looking for the source of the unsolicited advice. The voice was gruff, with an accent and cadence that made Liam think of the Swedish Chef from the Muppets. The garage door was open for air circulation, and two figures were standing in the driveway, illuminated by the setting sun. As they approached and stepped into the shadows of the house, Liam could see they were Pixel and a short, stout man with a greying beard that would do ZZ Top proud. The breeze blowing into the garage carried a hint of flowers.

  Liam experienced a moment of double vision as he looked at the pair. Pixel’s eyes took on the violet glow he thought he had seen before, while her companion lost six inches in height, until he was only as tall as Pixel. What the short man lacked in height, he made up for in physique; he was built like a fireplug. He was packed into blue jeans and a biker’s leather jacket, and goggles were perched over the bandana covering his salt and pepper hair. Leather biker boots crunched the gravel as he walked toward the garage. Pixel followed him, having traded her workout clothes for black jeans and a pink t-shirt that left her midriff exposed. A pair of sunglasses dangled from the neckline of her t-shirt.