As an answer, she turned his face back to gaze into his eyes. “I promise. I will keep my goodness close and fast within my heart. If you promise to always be by my side when I need you.”
He swallowed. “I don’t know if I can promise that, Clíodhna. I can promise to try my best, but if my Queen calls, I must go. You understand that.”
She did. Her heart, bolstered from his heartfelt warning, now sank. To fill the hole it left, she drew him in for a passionate kiss, their lips both hot with the blood of passion and temper.
He ran his hands up her arms, slick from the water, and down her breasts. She wrapped her legs around his hips in invitation and he gave her that beguiling half-smile.
They made love in the warm water of the pond as the dim ever-present light shined upon them, sparkling in the ripples.
* * *
Clíodhna threw the wooden bowl to the ground in a temper. “But you said she would send someone else!”
Adhna’s shoulders slumped. “I’m aware of what I said, love. But Bodach is meddling with things again, and she has to send me now. I’m the only one she trusts to undo the tangle he’s created.”
“I don’t understand why she doesn’t just banish him.”
“She can’t. He holds too much power within the court, and there have been some grumblings he’s fostering.”
She cast her mind back to some complaints the marsh Fae had expressed. “Is he trying to push the lesser Fae into something? He’s offered the marsh Fae and the wild Fae favors for future support.”
He scratched at his beard. “I suspect you’re right. He may want to wrest control from her and take the throne himself. But she can do little against him; that’s in the rules of Faerie magic. He can’t do anything directly to her, either. They must both work through proxies.”
“And you’re her proxy?”
“Exactly. As are you, so keep that in mind.”
Her anger fled into solemn resignation. “I will. Stay cautious, my love.”
He clutched her tight as he kissed her. When they parted, her lips ached with bruising, but she didn’t mind.
When Grimnaugh accompanied her to court that day, she considered the diminutive Fae before asking her question. “Does the Queen realize how much Bodach is trying to undermine her power?”
He gasped and glanced around, searching for anyone who might have overheard her question. “Don’t say such things! Not here, it isn’t safe.” The frog-like Fae grabbed her hand and dragged her back into the roundhouse. “Now, we’re behind Adhna’s strongest wards. What are you saying?”
“Bodach is working to undermine the queen. I suspected it, from some grumblings of the marsh Fae, and Adhna seems to think it’s a possibility.”
“A possibility had better be a certainty before you bring it before the Queen. Have you any idea what Bodach will do to you if you accuse him of treason without proof?”
She swallowed, her imagination running rampant with horrible ideas. “How do I make certain?”
His eyes grew wide. “You can never be certain! If you find out anything for certain about Bodach, he might stop you from giving this information to the Queen. His very life depends on it, and he values his life and power above all else.”
Frustrated, she ground her teeth. There must be some way to bring Bodach’s actions to the Queen’s attention. Despite Grimnaugh’s cautions, she grew determined to bring her information to the Queen.
When they arrived at court, several courtiers mumbled at her arrival. She glanced around at the censure on a few faces who had treated her with kindness. “Grimnaugh? What’s happened?”
He looked at a few of the Fae and let out a growl. “I’m not certain, but I’ll find out. Bide next to your Queen for a while.”
The Queen made three decisions for petitioners before Grimnaugh returned, and she couldn’t speak with him right away. They had to wait for a break in the proceedings before he could report what he’d discovered. She stood and walked out of the hall, signaling a pause in court.
Once she left the room, Grimnaugh whispered, “There’s something going on regarding Adhna and his latest mission. I can’t get a straight answer from anyone. That’s nothing unusual; the Fae aren’t as direct in their speech as humans can be. However, be even more cautious than ever.”
“I wish Adhna were here.”
Grimnaugh cast a somber glance across the forty-odd courtiers. “So do I.”
“Who is doing the most grumbling? What groups of Fae are they closest to?”
He blinked a few times, staring off into the middle distance. “Cerul is in a foul mood, as is Terbhan. They both work with the wild Fae of the air and the marshes.”
“Terbhan? I don’t think I’ve met them.”
“That’s Terbhan, over near the twisted pillar. See? Pale blue skin and wicked sharp claws?”
“I see them.”
“Coming to court at all is unusual for Terbhan. They prefer to be swimming in the land’s power. Something must be very wrong for them to give that up.”
“Are they petitioning the Queen today?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but Cerul is on the list. She may not be heard today, though. The Queen has more petitioners on the list than she normally has patience to deal with.”
Queen Áine returned, forestalling further speculation between them. She glanced at her Seneschal to call up the next petitioner.
“Cerul would ask you a favor, your Grace.”
The tall wispy Fae stepped forward. However, the Queen rewarded her with an icy stare. “No. I will not hear Cerul today. Who is next?”
Murmurs flew across those assembled. Queen Áine stood. “I will have silence in my court. No more petitioners now.”
She turned and exited once again, leaving in her wake even more mumbled conjecture.
Grimnaugh wrung his hands. “This doesn’t look good. This doesn’t look good in the slightest.”
However, Clíodhna barely heard the frog-like Fae. She slipped away from him and the grumbling courtiers to follow Queen Áine.
The back passageway into the hall, the one that led to the Queen’s antechambers, remained dark and chilly. Clíodhna rubbed the pebbled skin on her arms as she walked, hoping the Queen wouldn’t blast her into cinders the moment she appeared.
When she reached the first open room, she blinked from the bright light shining from the walls themselves. Rich, shining fabrics in blues and whites draped across every surface, their reflection making the glow even stronger.
The Queen faced away from Clíodhna. She pulled open a drawer from a cabinet and drew out a stone, closing the drawer again. Without turning, she said, “What do you want, handmaiden?”
Her voice didn’t work. Clíodhna stammered, “I… I have some news for you, my Queen.”
The Queen spun, a bare hand-span from Clíodhna’s face. Her voice dripped with disdain and cold anger. “Do you know something you believe I am ignorant of?”
“I… I think so, your Grace.”
“You think so. But you are not certain. Why are you wasting my time? How dare you intrude upon my private quarters?”
Clíodhna’s skin turned to ice as the Queen drew closer, their noses almost touching. She couldn’t move her legs at all, not even to run away, something she craved. After steeling her nerve, she forced words out. “Bodach. He’s trying to…”
The Queen turned away from her and flung an arm out in a dismissive gesture. An invisible force hurled Clíodhna against the wall, her shoulder hitting it with painful impact. “Do not speak to me of Bodach. I will not have Adhna’s pet trying to manipulate me regarding him. Begone.”
Clíodhna crawled out of the antechamber with a frustrated sob, every muscle in her body screaming in protest.
By the time she regained the main hall, all the courtiers had disappeared. Only Grimnaugh remained, pacing back and forth, awaiting her return. When she poked her head through the entrance, he rounded on her. “I told you not to say anything! Didn’
t I warn you? Adhna will have my hide for not protecting you. Why would you put us both in such danger?”
Chastened, she bowed her head. “Grimnaugh, I’m sorry. I thought direct action would be better than this skulking around. I was wrong. Faerie and human worlds work in different ways.”
He glared at her before helping her to her feet. “You are speaking the truth. Keep it in mind, aye?”
As Clíodhna seethed with her foiled attempt at direct action, Grimnaugh led her back to Adhna’s roundhouse. It seemed the protections on his home still kept Bodach from attacking her, but he knew she lived here now. Still, Grimnaugh assured her Bodach couldn’t hurt her as long as she remained in the house, behind Adhna’s wards, or in the Queen’s company.
While Adhna still traveled, she held her own miniature court with the marsh Fae and the wild Fae. Some asked her help or favors, but more often she sang. Some of them also sang songs or related tales of their past endeavors, either real or legendary. Clíodhna looked forward to the times she spent with the lesser Fae. While she spent a great deal of personal energy attending the Queen, her socialization with these Fae renewed her soul and kept her laughing.
Still, she also needed sleep, so had to dispel her miniature court when she began yawning through her songs. They always protested, but she learned to insist.
As time went on, her court increased. Not only the marsh Fae and wild Fae, but some higher ranked lesser Fae might come. Each one asked her for a favor, and she couldn’t bear to turn them away if she could help them. Most had minor enough requests; a funny story or a sweet song. Once she even saw the young Fae, Ammatán. When she noticed him, she beckoned him closer, but he fled. He must be a shy one.
Cerul came a few times, and sat next to her, silent but supportive. She met the mysterious Terbhan, their voice neither high nor low. They had a lovely singing voice, and Clíodhna begged them to sing whenever they attended.
She trudged back with Grimnaugh one day after a long, brutal court. The Queen’s court had been packed with petitioners, and yet she only heard a third of them. Even these, she chose from the list, ignoring others. She’d ignored Cerul once again, as well as Terbhan.
When she returned to Adhna’s home, as much as she wanted to hold her usual court, the visit had drained her of all energy.
Grimnaugh frowned when she asked him to tell the others. “I don’t believe that’s wise, my lady.”
She stared at the Fae. “My lady? When did you start that nonsense?”
He stared at his toes when he answered. “Some time ago, my lady.”
With a sigh, Clíodhna clapped a hand on his shoulder, his skin rough and dry under her hand. “Please don’t. I’m no lady, and I’m certain Queen Áine would be displeased at the presumption.”
He mumbled something and glanced away.
She took both his shoulders and stared at him. “Grimnaugh, this is not a jest. I have no wish to take any of the Queen’s power, nor do I wish her to believe it of me, even in error. She terrifies me.”
“You have power already, my lady. You have the support of many of the lesser Fae. Even a few courtiers espouse you now.”
Her eyes flew open with alarm. “I don’t want courtiers! I don’t want a court. Perhaps it was a bad idea to have anyone visit here to begin with.”
Grimnaugh grumbled again, but wouldn’t speak on it again, no matter how much she badgered him. Frustrated, Clíodhna stomped into the roundhouse and drew her blanket up.
Despite her resolution, sleep did not come for her. She tossed and turned, thinking what might happen if the Queen suspected her of trying to wrest power away. Her own imagination paled beside the Queen’s ability to punish such a bold mortal.
With bleary eyes, she rose again after hours of trying to sleep. Instead, she swam in the pond, hoping to clear her head. What else should she do? She tried to warn the Queen of Bodach’s machinations, and now she might be in peril of being accused of the same. She must alleviate the Queen’s suspicions before they fell on her. Afterward might be far too late.
She really wished Adhna would come back, but he’d been gone much longer than his previous missions. She suspected Bodach had a hand in that, too.
A water Fae swam to her. This one had no voice, so instead of speaking, it paddled around, playing with her black hair as it splayed out on the water’s surface. Her fins tickled, and for a moment, Clíodhna forgot her concerns and played for the pleasure of playing.
Many winters ago, Clíodhna remembered playing. She’d had chores every day on the farm, helping her parents care for animals and clean the house. Despite that, she’d spent many summer hours playing in the water.
They’d lived on the seashore, far in the west. The salty sea would tickle her nose when she dove under the waves. She’d play with the dolphins, riding them out into the ocean, almost out of sight of land, and back in before the storms came. A water nymph might be bold enough to let her approach. When she watched a wind sprite take flight and soar into the sky, she promised herself someday she would fly in the air like a bird. She kept such encounters a secret, though.
Once, she had mentioned the sprites to her father, and received a lecture on fancies and tall tales, a lecture she remembered for many winters.
What would her father think of her now? Playing with Fae within the very land of Faerie, and even attending the Faerie Queen.
He’d dismiss it as the height of fanciful daydreams and tell her to get back to work.
With a sigh, Clíodhna rose from the pond and crawled back into bed, letting sleep claim her.
Clíodhna counted at least twelve more long sleeps before Adhna returned. He stumbled in while she slept, but she woke as soon as he tripped over something and cursed. He looked well-worn and rough. After springing to her feet, she peeled the soiled clothing from his body and made him lie down. “You need rest, love. I’ll start some food, but you sleep.”
He mumbled something about leaving again soon, but she shushed him. “Sleep! Not talk. Sleep.”
When his snores filled the roundhouse, she picked his léine up with two fingers and, holding it out as far as she could, took it to the pond. She dunked it in, wrung it, and dunked again, until the stink went away. She hung the léine to dry and examined it, noting several places that required mending.
Clíodhna pulled out her sewing kit and the bone needle she used in Faerie, and repaired several rips. One had parallel cuts like an animal’s claw had ripped it. She glanced at her lover, trying to remember if she’d seen any wounds on his skin when she readied him for bed. If he’d been injured, he must have already healed, for she recalled nothing like this. Clothing didn’t heal like Fae flesh.
Someone cleared their throat. She spun to check on Adhna, but his snore still sung. Instead, a group of five Fae stood in a line. The largest one, a mountain Fae, his skin gray and mottled, stepped forward, wringing his hands. “Please, my lady…”
“I’m not my lady. I made that clear to Grimnaugh. My name is Clíodhna.”
He cleared his throat again, a noise like stone scraping together. “Yes, my lady Clíodhna.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed, gesturing for him to continue.
“My lady Clíodhna, we have come to beg a favor from you. Will you listen to us?”
“Your name is Cionnan, right? How can I help, Cionnan?”
Another of the Fae twittered and giggled, hopping a few times in excitement. The mountain Fae cast her a withering glance and she calmed down, her wings still fluttering. “We ask you to rid our land of a blight.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What sort of blight?”
He stared at his feet rather than answer her. He mumbled something, but so low she couldn’t make out the words.
“Well? Cionnan, I can’t help you if I don’t understand what to prepare for.”
The stone Fae mumbled slightly louder this time. “It’s my lord Bodach.”
“Bodach? Bodach is your blight?” Warring emotions clashed inside of her. As
much as she feared the bark-skinned Fae, she also wanted to fight him, to once and for all banish his evil intent from those she cared for. Prudence overcame her urge for justice. “I don’t think I’m powerful enough to battle Bodach, Cionnan.”
He grumbled again, stone grating against stone. Adhna emerged from the roundhouse, rubbing sleep from his eyes, wearing nothing at all. He blinked a few times at the Fae delegation. “What’s going on?”
She gestured to her visitors. “These Fae would like my help in ridding their land of an evil blight. Bodach.”
His eyes grew wide, showing the redness from lack of rest. “That cannot be done! Not by this human. Cionnan, what possessed you to come to Clíodhna with this? Even I would be a better candidate for such a mission, and yet I am not powerful enough to beat him in a fair fight.”
The mountain Fae looked at his feet again.
Adhna walked to the Fae and pulled his face up to look into his eyes. “Why, Cionnan? You should have gone to Queen Áine with this petition. Why didn’t you do that?”
The stone Fae glanced at Clíodhna and back at Adhna, entreaty in his sad eyes. With a curse, Adhna let his face go. “Bah. This is not good, not good at all. Clíodhna, stay here. I must speak to the Queen. You lot, head back home. Clíodhna cannot help you with your problem. The Queen is the only one able to do such a thing.”
He stomped back to the roundhouse and donned a new, clean léine. He continued to grumble as he left the roundhouse toward the Queen’s court.
As soon as he left, Cionnan grabbed Clíodhna’s hand, his skin cool and hard. “Please, please, my lady, at least come with us to see what he’s done?”
Each Fae turned sad eyes upon her. She could no sooner stay now than she could take flight. With one last glance in the direction Adhna had gone, she followed the Fae to their home.
Calling it a mountain might have been over-generous. The modest hill rose to a rocky outcropping, but the sides remained grassy and gentle. A thin, lazy river curled around the base of the hill, wending through bracken and willow trees. One of the Fae delegation, a sídhe, hopped with glee to be back near her tree and dove into the wood, her smile brightening. Cionnan frowned and pointed to an area upstream. “See there? Where the water spreads out into a marsh?”
Age of Druids: Druid's Brooch Series: #9 Page 21