Princess of the Emerald Valleys

by Cassandra Finnerty

  “We’ll be pushing it.”

  “Do what you can to get us there. It’s a protected spot. We’ll have a better chance of making our repairs if we can get out of the storm.”

  “I’ll let the men know.”

  Aisling retrieved her dagger and thought about her next decree. If she accelerated the wind, it would help them reach port. But, it would also mean that the enemy would benefit as well. She extended the instrument to the sky.

  “I command that a strong gale accelerate our journey to the Orkney Islands.”

  The power surged out of her hand, into the air. She felt a jolt as the wand lit up with a blue aura, illuminating the jewels with its incandescent glow. She sat down at her desk and retrieved the second sword.

  “I command that the prince be informed of our current destination.”

  Aisling hoped that he was in Ireland. She had a sense of foreboding that more troubles were headed her way. Exhausted from her efforts, she lay down on the bed, intending to rest, and fell fast asleep.

  When Aisling woke, the ship was anchored. As she looked out the window, dawn peered over the horizon, casting an amber and red glow over the water. She dressed in haste and made her way out to the deck.

  They had arrived in the Orkney Islands, and were in the middle of a deep sea harbor. After looking through her spyglass, it appeared that the Saoirse was the lone vessel in the area. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Ryen hurried down the deck.

  “Good work,” said Aisling, as she scanned his expression.

  “Commander, we caught a tailwind, and made it here in record time.”

  “How are the men faring?”

  “Many have worked through the night, so they’re exhausted, but we’ve made significant progress on our repairs.”

  “Have you managed to get any sleep?” she asked, noting the circles under his eyes.

  “About as much as you did,” he replied.

  “Have Cookie serve extra food for breakfast.”

  “Aye, will do. I’m hoping we can be on our way later today.”

  “That would be good news. We need to be confident that the ship can withstand more severe weather. The North Seas can be unpredictable.”

  “I understand. How long will we be staying in Penge?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’d like our stay to be brief.” She lowered her voice. “We may encounter more hostile forces. It would be wise to prepare for the worst scenarios.”

  “You mean, the soldiers from Insula?”

  “Yes, but there may be more. We’re about to enter a kingdom that’s rife with conflict and discontent. Please make sure that our crew is ready for anything.”

  “I’ll talk with the prince’s soldiers.”

  “Good,” said Aisling. She looked out at the ancient forts and brochs that were scattered across the granite cliffs. “Thank you Ryen, for your efforts. I know how hard you worked to get us here.”

  “I’m happy to help, Commander,” he said.

  As her cousin hurried back to update the crew, Aisling hoped the enemy was far behind.

  Sean and the prince sat at the table, engaged in animated conversation.

  “I don’t understand. How could we have traveled so far in such a short time?”

  “I can’t explain it,” Sean replied, shaking his head. “It makes little sense. We must have hit a tailwind.”

  Drayaen’s mind raced through the implications. If Aisling created a special event, she and the crew must be in danger. He made a mental note of all their adversaries. They’d need to add one to the list, he noted with trepidation. The King of Insula must not be pleased about his recent losses. The prince realized that if Aisling hadn’t been successful in her quest, the enemy would not be chasing them across the seas.

  “How soon before we reach Penge?” he asked Sean.

  “A few more days, if all goes well.”

  “We’ll need to be prepared for anything.”

  “What are we sailing into?”

  “Trouble.”

  Aisling stood on the deck, scanning the horizon. It had been almost a week since their stop in the Orkney Islands, and the Saoirse was barreling through the North Sea. So far, there had been no signs of the enemy, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  She turned as Patrick approached.

  “Commander, I’m pleased to say that our patient is regaining his strength.”

  “That’s good news,” she said, tapping her fingers on the railing. “King Chauncey will be delighted to see his ambassador.”

  “How much longer before we reach Penge?”

  “Tonight, if all goes well.”

  Aisling retrieved her spyglass and looked out over the water. Something in the distance caught her eye. As she strained to see the object, there was shouting from the lookout tower.

  “What’s happening?” asked Patrick, as he watched the soldiers scurry to their positions.

  “I don’t know yet,” Aisling said, as she summoned Ryen.

  A few minutes later, her officer hurried down the deck. She closed the distance between them.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Ships from Insula. They’re behind us.”

  Her mind raced. “How many?”

  “At least two vessels that we can see.”

  “Head east, to the nearest port. We’ll seek refuge there.”

  “Aye, Commander, I’ll tell the crew.”

  As he disappeared below deck, Aisling raced to the Captain’s Quarters, to review her Book of Magic. She had to consider her options for keeping them all safe.

  The shouting on the deck grew louder as the soldiers manned their stations. Aisling thought about creating another invisible shield to protect them from the advancing vessels, but she worried it would put a strain on her powers.

  Her energies would be needed to ensure the Saoirse reached its final destination. As she paced in her chamber, there was a deafening roar.

  They were under attack.

  The ship vibrated from the explosion. Clutching her spyglass, she saw that the blast hit the water. Naval forces from Insula had missed their target.

  But it was close.

  I must buy some time, she thought. Visions of the nearby fjords and inlets came to mind.

  Places to hide.

  Aisling clutched her dagger. Her mind raced, as she considered the options.

  There was a second explosion. The windows rattled. This time, the blast was so close that the ship rocked in a violent motion. She ran onto the deck, and tracked down Ryen.

  “Order the men to shoot the flaming arrows.”

  “Now?”

  Aisling nodded. “Tell them to aim for the sails.”

  As her officer directed the soldiers above the din, she found a remote corner of the ship, and removed her wand.

  “I command that the winds carry the arrows to the enemy ships.”

  Aisling felt a jolt of power surge through her system, and eject into the atmosphere. She was dizzy from the impact and leaned against the railing for support. She closed her eyes for a moment, and heard shouting from the lookout. In the distance, there was the sound of an explosion.

  She retrieved her spyglass, and took a step back. The arrows had met their target, but there was something else.

  Another ship was also attacking the fleet from Insula.

  It was the Cara.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE PALACE

  Flames soared into the air, the acrid smoke billowing across the waters.

  The enemy was fleeing the scene.

  Aisling held her breath as the Cara came into view. The ship appeared to be unscathed. She breathed a sigh of relief, and motioned to Ryen.

  “We’ll need to put more distance between us and the men from Insula. Head farther down the coast.”

  “Aye, Commander. What should we do about the Cara?”

  “Raise the flag and send the signal. We’ll drop anchor tonight.”

  She retre
ated to her cabin and sat at her desk, grateful they had made a narrow escape.

  The sun hovered on the horizon. The ball of fiery red jutted out from the dark gray clouds and cast a faint glow over the rising mist. Slivers of amber turned the reflections a soft pink, as the light ebbed from the sky.

  Aisling paced in her chamber, inhaling deep breaths of air. She paused at the familiar sound of heavy boots marching down the passageway. Her heart pounded as the door opened.

  He stood in the threshold, hand on his sword, with his long hair tied back in a queue. His dark coat framed his large shoulders. He dominated the space. Aisling scanned his expression.

  The prince smiled, and she ran across the chamber and launched herself into his arms.

  He pulled her close, and melded his lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around him as he locked the door and moved them both over to the bed. She could feel herself being carried, but was busy taking in all the details of his face: his deep luminescent eyes, the powerful cords in his neck, the feel of his frame moving over hers.

  It felt as though they had been apart forever, and yet when he murmured how much he had missed her in his deep, mesmerizing voice, it felt as though no time had passed at all.

  She drank in the feel of him, gasping as her silky curves melded with his steely frame. She inhaled deep breaths as they were swept away by the undulating motion of the ship, ebbing and flowing with the waves.

  The prince pulled back to look at Aisling. The moonlight cast a silvery shadow across her pale skin and illuminated her yellow and white hair. Soft curls framed her face; her eyes were closed, her long lashes creating small shadows across her cheeks.

  He thought she had never looked more beautiful.

  Sometime during the night, the prince woke, and propped himself up on one elbow. He glanced at Aisling and ran his thumb over her cheek as she slept. They’d been separated for over a month. He had spent most of that time worrying about her whereabouts and was grateful she was safe. There’s one focus now, he told himself. Finish the mission and return home, ensuring that she is far away from danger.

  He lay back down and pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair. With an iron grip around her body, he fell asleep to the sound of the seas.

  The palace was an imposing structure, situated on the banks of the river, with distant views of the sea. The pale stones gleamed in the sun, their rows of white arches and windows in contrast with the crenellations and towers that jutted out from dark roofs.

  Upon closer inspection, the royal residence was a single structure with four expansive wings, and a soaring tower, surrounded by intricate gardens and sculpted trees. Amber cobblestones in the courtyards mirrored the colors of the castle, providing a soothing composition.

  Aisling knew that the serene calm was a façade. Soon, she would greet King Chauncey, but first, she needed to understand more about his situation, and the forces that were building against him. After much deliberation with the prince and the king’s advisor, Erik, it was decided that she should meet with the sovereign alone. It would give her a chance to determine how she could help. The presence of Drayaen and his armed soldiers might be a distraction.

  The carriage stopped at the main gate, before proceeding to the castle entrance. Aisling could see rows of footmen in formation, dressed in immaculate uniforms, their eyes looking forward but never daring to make contact.

  She walked through the imposing halls, decorated with crystal chandeliers and enormous paintings in heavy, gilded frames. After a series of turns, a gold door was opened, and Aisling was ushered into the throne room.

  The chamber was a vision.

  Her first impression was that everything sparkled. The ceilings were two stories high, with elaborate, amber inlay and detailed murals in red and gold. On the right and left sides were rows of massive arched windows. The gleaming floor reflected the light from the chandeliers, wall sconces, and the sun.

  At the back of the room was the throne, offset by flanking gold columns and an arched roof. Above the structure were three large, vivid paintings, in shades of green, blue, and red.

  King Chauncey sat in a nearby chair, on the main floor. Aisling might have thought him to be an advisor, but she was quick to recognize him from their previous interactions.

  She approached and bowed.

  “I’m happy to see you, my dear,” he said.

  “Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty. I’ve been looking forward to my visit.”

  “I’ve talked with Erik. He tells me you saved his life. The stolen silver has also been returned. I’m most grateful.”

  “Have you recovered your lost ships?”

  “They’re back too.” The king paced, and looked out the window at the darkening skies.

  “Your Highness, is there anything else you need, before I return to Ireland?”

  He sighed. “I’ve won this round, but Gardari will come after me again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Every time I make a deal, he increases his demands.”

  “How so?”

  “In the past, I’ve stood up to our enemies. Now, it seems, they’ve grown in number. I don’t have the power to fight them all.”

  The conversation reminded her of the Nawab, and his fight with both internal and external forces.

  “How can I help?”

  “You already have, more than you know. There is one thing I would ask. Stay a few days, and see if you can tell me which of my adversaries are most dangerous.”

  “I can try, Your Majesty. For this to work, I would have to stay in the palace. My husband and his soldiers are also traveling with me.”

  “Yes, of course. You are all invited. Come back tomorrow and we’ll get you situated. There’s a costume ball later this week. It will give you a chance to interact with those closest to me.”

  “I would be pleased to help. There are no guarantees that I’ll find meaningful information, but I’ll do my best. I will need to leave within a few days though.”

  “That’s fine. While you’re here, Erik can be your guide. Feel free to avail yourself of the amenities in the palace, including our beautiful rooms and libraries. I wish for you and the prince to feel at home.”

  “Thank you for your generous hospitality.”

  Aisling bowed and was then escorted back to the entrance.

  As the driver guided the carriage out of the palace and into the streets, the vista moved from one of luxurious colors and treasures, to drab landscapes and narrow alleyways. She looked beyond the gold silk curtains to observe the lifeless, hollow faces of those who hovered in doorways, blending with the dark and dreary shadows.

  Aisling and the prince looked out the palace windows to glimpse a view of their ships. The Saoirse and the Cara were close by, anchored in the harbor until the visit to King Chauncey was concluded.

  Drayaen stood behind his wife, and wrapped his arms around her. She turned and smiled.

  “How long before we need to make an appearance?” he asked, nuzzling her ear.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Until then, you’re all mine,” he murmured.

  Sometime in the night, Aisling woke, and strained to see in the dark. The prince was beside her, but the setting was unfamiliar. There was an echo of distant laughter, and she remembered they were staying in the royal palace.

  Tomorrow, she would have an opportunity to meet many of the king’s council members and advisors. It was a task she didn’t relish, for there was bound to be distressing news about disloyal subjects. Somehow, the King of Floe and his brother, Gardari, were able to access confidential information about the Land of Penge, and she vowed to find out who was responsible.

  Her thoughts turned to the prince. We’re reunited, she reflected, and after this trip, we can head back home. She covered them both with the blanket and lay back, wondering how she was going to help King Chauncey.

  The next morning, a steady rain pattered on the windows, pushing out the billowing
silk curtains. Aisling grabbed her robe and closed the window. There was a chill in the air. She looked out at her ships, safe in the bay, and smiled. Cookie will be serving breakfast now, she thought, as she glanced at the prince. He was still asleep.

  She dressed in haste and made her way into the adjoining chamber. It was a large room, decorated in shades of blue and gold, with arched windows and an oversized hearth. A fire had already been lit. After locking the outside door, Aisling sat at the desk and summoned her daggers. She picked up the second wand, which of late had been a source of useful information.

  “Tell me, who are the greatest enemies of Penge?”

  Her hand vibrated as she felt the instrument shift in her hand, as if it wanted to soar on its own. She clung to it, until images began to appear through the mist.

  King Gardari appeared. His mouth was twisted and angry, and he was screaming at a familiar face.

  Lord Thrain.

  The picture shifted to men she didn’t recognize. As those images faded, there was a visage of a woman. Aisling didn’t recall meeting her, but the background was familiar. It was the estate belonging to the Nawab of Bengal, in India.

  The final picture formed. She reeled back as the face of King Chauncey appeared.

  Then everything faded to black.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE RELUCTANT KING

  The royal family and members of society formed a line outside the dining hall. Lords and ladies were arranged in formation, based on noble rank. Aisling scanned the room and estimated there were fifty or so guests. She and the prince had already met the queen and the dowager, but had not yet been introduced to the king’s councilors and advisors.

  As dinner was announced, the doors opened to reveal an expansive room, painted in deep crimson, with portraits of Penge aristocrats on each wall. There were elaborate place settings of gold-rimmed dishes, crystal, and intricate silverware. Vibrant flowers and candelabras adorned the center of the table. Although it was dark and misty outside, the chamber was warm and bright, casting a soft pink glow over the festive occasion.