Princess of the Emerald Valleys

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Princess of the Emerald Valleys Page 4

by Cassandra Finnerty


  He hoped it wasn’t too late.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WRATH

  The boats made their way across Clew Bay.

  The prince glanced at Crough Patrick, a mountain situated to the south. On the opposite shore, the Nephrins jutted into the sky, their peaks forming towers over the prevailing landscape.

  In front of him lay Clare Island. He took out his spyglass and examined the terrain. A pod of bottlenose dolphins leapt out of the water, racing parallel with the passing vessels. Overhead, a flock of sea birds drifted on the winds.

  “Lord Bailey made a wise choice when he selected this place,” said Ryen as the boats skimmed the waves. “There’s a harbor on the east side that could accommodate our fleet.”

  “Can you take us out farther?” asked the prince, elevating his voice above the sound of crashing waves. “I’d like to see the terrain that borders the ocean.”

  Ryen nodded and signaled his cousin Sean, who was navigating the boat that carried the colonel and the rest of the entourage.

  After an invigorating sail to the Atlantic Ocean, they circled back and dropped anchor.

  The prince and his men climbed the narrow path to the top of the cliffs. The steep, jagged peaks formed a natural barrier against incursion. “This is a place that offers much protection,” Drayaen murmured, as he surveyed the windswept landscape.

  His thoughts raced, as he calculated the position and sheer size of the isle. It offered ample space, and a perch that afforded them oversight of incoming ships.

  He appreciated the natural splendor of the area. It reminded him of a small kingdom. He felt as though a burden had been lifted. We can still reside at the estate, he thought, but this will give us control, and peace of mind.

  The prince met with Toby to review plans for the new site. A short while later, they were approached by Ryen.

  “Your Highness, we’re expecting an incoming storm. Our smaller vessels are not well suited to rough weather. Sean’s boat is leaving now.”

  “All right,” Drayaen said, as he regarded the looming clouds. He completed his discussion with Toby and headed to the inlet.

  By the time the remaining soldiers boarded the craft, the waves were formidable. The prince clutched the railing, and recalled his misadventure in Melaka, when a typhoon caused their ship to run aground. It was not an experience he wanted to repeat.

  Ryen glanced at his worried countenance. “We’re a short distance away from Cathair na Mart,” he said. “We’ll be there in no time.”

  After navigating into the bay, the wind rippled through the sails. As the waves grew fierce, the hull was pounded by water.

  Ryen turned to his officer. “Adjust the rigging.”

  The men fought the heavy gusts as they struggled to adapt.

  Ryen looked out at the water. “We’ll need everyone to wear a harness,” he said, grabbing his spyglass.

  A wave hurled water into the vessel. The sailors grabbed buckets and began bailing out the excess.

  The navigator signaled the crew. “Reduce sail,” he shouted. The masts rippled in the wind as they careened toward shore.

  As land drew near, the prince relaxed his grip on the railing. He’d been through many tests of fortitude in his life: ambushes, sieges, injuries from battle, and the agony of loss. Yet, the trials of a sea journey and the confrontations with nature could be just as threatening. He wondered if he would ever adapt.

  Ryen made his way to the back of the boat. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I should have taken my own counsel and insisted we leave earlier.”

  “No need to apologize,” said the prince. “You’re a talented navigator. I’m grateful we’re about to reach dry land.”

  “When Aisling was young, Lord Bailey used to bring her out here during storms and have her sail back to the quay.”

  “That must have been a challenge for someone so young.”

  “She seemed to thrive on it, though. There were a few mishaps, but Aisling always made it back in one piece.”

  “I’m sure it’s why she is an excellent commander.”

  Ryen nodded. “Sean is an able seaman as well. He should have reached the wharf by now. They had a fair head start.” He clutched his spyglass and scanned the terrain. He gasped as he looked at the shore.

  “What is it?” asked the prince, straining to see land.

  “I don’t believe this,” muttered Ryen, turning pale.

  The boat sat anchored in the quay.

  Armed men surrounded the vessel and were forcing everyone up the path, to the cliffs.

  Aisling stood in her upstairs sitting room, her arms extended. Hanu and Maehwa chatted away, as they measured her for new clothing.

  Although the prince knew about the baby, the announcement had not yet been shared with others. The princess beamed as she recalled their Christmas in the garden, when she had first revealed the news.

  The girls guessed her secret, but remained discreet.

  ‘How are you settling in?” asked Aisling, glancing at their upturned faces.

  “It’s nice here,” said Maehwa. She stood and scribbled the new sizes in her notebook.

  “Do you like your cabin?”

  “Very much. It’s quiet, but the colonel comes to check on us.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” said Aisling. “It’s wonderful to have company.”

  “Sean calls upon us too,” said Hanu, “now that he’s staying at the estate.”

  Aisling noted their animated expressions as they described their visitors, and smiled.

  As Aisling escorted the girls through the Great Hall, they were interrupted by Galen. He emerged from the hallway, disheveled and out of breath.

  “What is it?” asked Aisling.

  He lowered his spectacles and cleared his throat. “Princess, may I have a private word?”

  “Thank you, girls, for coming,” she said, bidding them farewell. “I’m excited to see what you have in store for me.”

  “We’re happy to help,” said Hanu. “You’re busy, so we’ll come back when we have something to show you.” They left the house and headed toward their cottage.

  Galen turned to the princess. “Fionn has delivered an urgent message for you. It seems Lord Thrain’s men have captured Sean, the colonel, and some soldiers.”

  “Where are they now?” Aisling asked, inhaling a deep breath.

  “They’re on the path that leads up to the mountain.”

  “Tell the stable boys to get the horses ready. Have Fionn round up the soldiers. We’ll leave in five minutes.” She grabbed her cloak and secured her scepters.

  Drayaen was right, she concluded. I should have decimated Lord Thrain’s powers during our first encounter. Now he’s enraged and vengeful. She realized that dramatic action was needed.

  The men gathered in the courtyard. Aisling thought about the distance between the estate and the wharf. Even if they rode fast, it was doubtful they would make it in time.

  She located Fionn at the front of the line. “Lead the way, and I’ll meet you there,” she insisted.

  He nodded, motioning to the other riders, and the formation clattered across the bridge.

  Aisling ran to a secluded spot in the garden and grabbed her scepters. “I decree that Lord Thrain and I both be transported to the top of the ridge, where Sean and the men are headed.”

  The energy hurled out of her hands, into the atmosphere. As she opened her eyes, the scenery had shifted. Below her was a view of the bay, mountain ranges, and Clare Island.

  The storm battered the intractable cliffs. The crash of the waves was deafening. A short distance away, the visage of her adversary began to materialize.

  He saw her and scowled. “What do you want?”

  “I’m here to stop you from inflicting more harm.”

  “That task is beyond your reach. You’re not as clever as you think.”

  “Perhaps not, but I never claimed to be.”

  “Why are you so difficult?”

&
nbsp; “You revile anyone who can’t be controlled. I feel sorry for you. You’ve been consumed by hate. It oozes out of every fiber of your being.”

  “You haven’t heard the last of me.”

  “You’ve squandered your gifts, like the rest of your sycophants. It’s all about money, favor, and position.”

  “You possess some of those things. It’s easy for you to cast judgment,” he sneered.

  “I put them to good use. You’ve squandered your legacy.”

  “I have one regret,” Thrain said, incensed. “I should have eliminated you a long time ago.”

  Aisling brandished her wand. “I proclaim that Lord Thrain and his dark forces be stripped of their powers and flung back to Insula.”

  An icy air circled her foes and blew them off the cliff. As they plunged into the sea, Aisling could see their spirits evaporate into dust.

  Sean and the men searched through the fog.

  As the mist cleared, the enemy had vanished.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  VINDICATION

  The prince stood riveted in the boat. He surveyed the scene as a military commander, assessing the enemy’s strengths and strategies. As the men were marched to the ridge, another vision came into view.

  Aisling.

  He clutched his spyglass as he watched her confront a tall, dark figure. It must be Lord Thrain, he concluded. The other man laughed and seemed undaunted. A simmering rage swept over him. How ironic, he thought, to have a front row seat and yet be unable to take action.

  He was ready to snap.

  It brought back memories of Queen Vila and his fight against her chilling treachery. Despite the surrounding blasts of icy air, Drayaen began to sweat.

  A fog swirled on the ledge. He strained for a glimpse of the action.

  In the next moment, he watched in horror as bodies were hurled from the summit, into the sea.

  He was the first one off the vessel. His heart pounded as he raced toward the cliffs. In the distance, there were men descending the path. The soldier in the front had a familiar gait.

  It was Colonel Lex.

  “What happened?” Drayaen asked, as he approached his officer.

  “There was an ambush at the wharf. They claimed to be holding the princess hostage. I couldn’t risk engagement.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Behind me, with Sean.”

  He exhaled and nodded. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. He could breathe again.

  “Any casualties?” he asked.

  “Not on our side. The enemy lost their way in the fog. They fell from the peak.”

  “I saw it from the boat. I’m relieved everyone is safe. I’ll see you back at the estate,” said Drayaen, as he left in search of his princess.

  He rounded the corner and caught sight of her long yellow and white hair, blowing in the wind. Before she had time to descend, he sprinted up the mountain and crushed her in his arms.

  Aisling awoke and peered into the darkness. She exhaled a deep breath and glanced at her surroundings.

  “Are you all right?” asked the prince, pulling her toward him.

  “I forgot we were in the treehouse,” she said, nestling against his rugged frame.

  “It’s the perfect retreat. We needed some rest after that grueling day.”

  “I’m sorry I caused you to worry,” she murmured. “It seemed like the best option at the time.”

  He propped himself up on one elbow. “I’m relieved that you and the others are safe,” he said, rubbing his thumb across her cheek.

  She nodded and sat up. “I have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “When we were in Cork, I heard that the sail makers were expanding their business. We know that trade is increasing, across the globe. What if we were to start a business here, on Clare Island?”

  “Making sails?”

  “Ones that go faster than anything else.”

  “Is it possible?”

  “We can try. Before his death, my father was experimenting with a new kind of material. It’s durable, and inexpensive to grow.”

  “What made you think of it?”

  “We have a large community to support. Our merchant business is fraught with danger. It also requires us to be gone for long periods of time. This would create work for the crew between sea voyages. Their families could get involved, too.”

  “Is the demand great enough?”

  “Let’s try it and see. If there’s limited interest, we could use the sails for our own company, and we’d be no worse off.”

  “How should we start?”

  “Let’s head to Cork. I can talk with my father’s friends and get more insights. We can take the Saoirse and check on our warehouses at the same time.”

  “When do you want to leave?”

  “How about a few days from now?”

  He nodded and pulled her closer. “We have limited time,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “To be alone. Between now and then, I intend to take advantage of every minute,” he breathed.

  He leaned over and kissed her, his lips moving over hers with sultry heat. She wrapped her arms around him and looked into his dark, luminescent eyes.

  All thoughts of an upcoming voyage faded.

  Later that week, Aisling stood with her feet planted on the deck, spyglass in hand. She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “Ah, Ryen, we’ve made excellent time.”

  “There’s a fair wind,” he said, as he eyed the distant shore. “We’ll be approaching the River Lee soon.”

  “The prince and I will be gone for the afternoon. Once the warehouses have been checked, the crew can take turns going into town.”

  “Will you need some escorts?”

  “A few sailors to help transport any goods that we purchase.”

  “I’ll line them up, then.”

  “If anything happens, you know where to reach me.”

  “Aye, Commander, I’ll keep you posted.”

  Aisling headed toward the ramp. She smiled as the prince came into view, his long hair pulled back in a queue. His black cape billowed from the gusts of wind that swept across the deck. As she drew closer, he signaled his men. After a few minutes, the boat launched, and they headed into Cork.

  Although the holiday season had come and gone, an air of excitement permeated the town. It was the beginning of a new year, 1774. The merchants were amiable as they welcomed visitors into their shops. Everywhere, it seemed, there was high energy and a positive outlook.

  Aisling and the prince continued down the main thoroughfare, to the book exchange. It was a hub of activity for both nobles and tradesmen. When they entered the lower level, they could see a large room with mahogany-paneled walls and dozens of round tables. An array of young women in aprons and caps bustled about, serving food and coffee.

  She scanned the room and saw a familiar face. It was one of her father’s friends, a man named Kyle Hurley. He sat in the corner, watching the crowd as the patrons mingled and chatted.

  His expression lightened as he caught sight of Aisling and the prince. “Oh, my,” he said, as he stood and motioned for them to sit. “This is an unexpected delight.”

  Aisling smiled. “It’s so nice to see you, Kyle.”

  “Likewise. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “I’d like your advice,” said Aisling. She proceeded to tell him about her interest in the sail-making business.

  He listened and nodded. “Everyone’s talking about a new era of trade. There’s bound to be demand. If you can supply the goods, I may be able to help you.”

  “How?” asked the prince.

  “I’m familiar with potential buyers, at least in Europe. I can serve as a sales agent.”

  For the next hour, they mapped out a strategy for the new venture. Kyle gave them a list of merchants who carried materials they would need.

  After the three had consumed multiple pots of tea, the an
imated discussion began to wind down. Aisling and Drayaen thanked their host and stood up to leave.

  “I almost forgot,” said Aisling. “There’s something else on my mind.”

  “How can I help?” asked Kyle.

  “What can you tell me about Lord Thrain?” she asked.

  There was a deafening silence. She locked eyes with her acquaintance.

  “How do you know him?” Kyle asked, his voice wavering.

  “He tried to extort money from us, after our return from the East Kingdom.”

  Kyle leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “Destroy him, before he crushes you.”

  “Is he that powerful?”

  “It’s the last warning I ever gave your father.”

  Aisling and the prince glanced at each other. Lord Thrain was a formidable enemy. She had a feeling he would resurface.

  Soon.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SURPRISE REQUEST

  Since the return of Aisling and the prince, the region had been abuzz with talk of a new sail-making business. There were also rumors of a mysterious project on Clare Island. Although the builders were sworn to secrecy, the villagers couldn’t help but notice the increased flow of traffic in and out of the bay.

  After Aisling and Drayaen’s successful visit to Cork, the estate bustled with activity. The prince commandeered a small army of volunteers. The colonel and his teams converted an empty warehouse into a makeshift headquarters for the new venture. Hanu and Maehwa directed the sewing activities, with the aid of local recruits.

  One night, the colonel stopped by the sail loft and was surprised to see Maehwa still there.

  “I was about to lock the building. I’m glad I checked first.” He crossed his arms. “Where is Hanu?”

  “She and Sean walked back to the estate. I said I would follow, but I wanted to finish this first.”

  “Maehwa, you shouldn’t be here, alone, ever. Promise me that you’ll heed my advice.”

  “Isn’t it safe?” she asked, as she felt her cheeks flush.

  “Most of the time, but we can’t always control visits from outsiders. Come with me. We’ll go back to the manor.”

 

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