“I suspect,” Grimnaugh said, “she doesn’t care for traveling much. Rumor has it she’s never left her realm, even for battle.”
“How does she lead her troops if she’s not there?”
“She either sends her war leader, her Consort, or arranges the battles to be near her.”
Clíodhna giggled. “Arranges her battles? This is not a game on a strategy board. These are the lives of our subjects!”
“Still, the Queens hold a great deal of power, and if she wishes to use it for her own convenience, well, other Queens have used their power with less wisdom.”
“And yet she wants my ocean power for something? Did she speak to you of that?”
“Yes, but in private. This would be a personal favor, understand, not one between Queens. Are you willing to hear what she asks?”
The servant came in to bring more mead. Clíodhna waited until they were alone again before nodding. “Tell me what she wants.”
Grimnaugh poured mead into two goblets and handed her one. “She wants you to heal part of the ocean.”
Clíodhna took hers but didn’t sip. “She what?”
“There’s a place in the mortal world where the ocean has been damaged by men. A place near the shore on the west coast. They throw their waste into the water, and the sea life is suffering. She has some creatures from her realm living there, Fae of the sea, and they have been complaining.”
“But I can’t go to the mortal world but once again. I’m stuck here as Queen.”
“She’s aware of this. The need is not urgent. When you do return, she asks you spend some time healing that part of the sea.”
Clíodhna considered the request. If she had the power to do so, she would have done such healing anyhow. She wished she could find Adhna. He might be the only one to teach her what she needed to complete such a task. In the meantime, she needed to send an answer to her counterpart.
“You said men lived nearby. Will they object to my work?”
He shrugged. “They dwell on an island not far away. You can do your work from the mainland, without their direct knowledge.”
“Very well. Tell her I agree to this boon. In return, I ask… I don’t know. What should I ask as a personal favor, Grimnaugh? I don’t wish to waste this opportunity, but I’m unsure what might be within her power to grant.”
He bit his lip, eying her with a roguish grin. “The most insidious, open-ended boon a Queen can ask for–a future favor.”
“Would she agree to such a thing? What if she refuses?”
“She won’t refuse. She wants the ocean to heal. It matters little to her when, as Fae live so long, but within your lifetime is sufficient. The counter-favor might be similarly long-termed if needs must.”
Clíodhna considered her initial reason for forming alliances with the Queens – some leverage against Bodach’s power and machinations. Perhaps she could ask for that someday. His defiance of her judgment proved that he had hoped for more power over her actions. He wouldn’t be satisfied with her reaction. She must prepare for his countermeasure.
To that end, she called several courtiers for a meeting after court. Not all the courtiers; only those she deemed most sympathetic to her hold over the realm, rather than Bodach’s.
Clíodhna had Grimnaugh and Cerul gauge each courtier’s loyalties and approach each one privately. When they had gathered, she bit her lip, considering the numbers. Only slightly more than half of the greater Fae had come. She searched for the young white-skinned Fae she’d met on her arrival to the court but couldn’t see him. Bodach must have nobbled the youngster already, more’s the pity. He seemed sweet.
Still, she must move forward with her plan. She had the servants seal the hall and stood on the dais. “I’ve assembled you to ask for your loyalty.”
The courtiers murmured amongst themselves, confusion clear on their face. One stepped up, a blocky, brown Fae from the outer marshes, near to the border of Grian’s realm. “I don’t understand, my Queen. You took our vows at your coronation.”
“Obligatory vows, to the new Queen. I am now requesting your true loyalty to my person. Asking, not demanding. If you prefer not to pledge yourselves to me, you may decline and I will not punish you. I need to be able to count upon your support.”
She felt like a Chief begging his warriors to fight for him. Clíodhna must have actual, verbal, magical vows from each of her subjects before she got pulled into a pitched battle with the likes of Bodach. He must be garnering support himself for such an inevitable conflict. To ignore such herself would be folly.
Cerul stepped forward, her head held high. She knelt before Clíodhna, bowing her head with perfect dignity. “I vow myself to you, my Queen. Until my blood runs cold and my body turns to dust. Until I walk with the Gods in Tír na nÓg. Until the memory of my power has faded.”
A second Fae, one of the beautiful sea Fae, came forward next and vowed themselves to her with similar words. One by one, each of the assembled gave their loyalty to her.
With each vow, her power grew. It swelled as a tangible force, coursing through her veins and making her skin glow with potential ability. When each had made their promise, she stood tall on her dais, shining with their love and regard.
“The day may soon come where I shall call upon my host to march beside me. I thank you for your trust in me.”
They left in small groups, though a few stayed behind to ask her questions. She answered them as best she could and for the thousandth time, wished Adhna stood by her side. He had so much more experience at this palace intrigue. Grimnaugh helped immensely, but he didn’t hold the initiative and influence she needed by her side.
Clíodhna wondered how long it would take one of them to betray her to Bodach.
When they’d all left, she turned to Grimnaugh. “I need one more favor from you.”
He grinned wide. “Just the one, my Queen?”
Clíodhna returned the grin, but then turned serious. “I need you to find Adhna. His presence at my side is necessary. I don’t care what you need to do or who you need to bribe. Find him.”
While she waited, Clíodhna held court, and many sleeps passed before she saw Grimnaugh again. Clíodhna gestured her hand out in invitation for the petitioner to continue their request. The lesser Fae listed every single slight their neighbor had committed over the last eon, in excruciating detail.
After she’d drunk three goblets of mead, her attention drifted from his diatribe. Her body didn’t react the same to alcohol now that she’d gained the power of her loyal courtiers, but she still grew muzzy with too much.
Her mind drifted, remembering when she’d first met Adhna. He’d been so kind to her, teaching her so much. Then she remembered how well his hands understood her body, and her flesh craved his. She wanted him back with a sudden intensity.
Grimnaugh cleared his throat for her attention. She glanced around to find the frog-like Fae standing next to her. He leaned over and whispered, “I discovered news of Adhna.”
She removed her hand from her breast. It must have drifted there in her mind-fog. The petitioner still droned on with his litany of complaints in a mind-numbing monotone.
Clíodhna sat straight and cut the petitioner off with a curt gesture. He halted mid-word.
“I’ve developed a headache. Court is dismissed.”
The petitioners shuffled off and soon they stood alone in the great hall except for servants and a few courtiers. She didn’t want these privy to the information Grimnaugh brought, so she walked to her antechamber, beckoning for Grimnaugh to follow.
Once she’d offered Grimnaugh refreshment and shooed the servants out, she folded her hands in her lap. “What news did you find?”
He bowed his head. “The news isn’t good, your Grace.”
“How so?”
He swallowed and stared at his shoes. “I couldn’t find word of him at any of the other Queens’ courts, though a few didn’t deign to answer.”
She held her hand up.
“I don’t care which steps failed. Tell me what you found.”
He cleared his throat again. “Bodach has him.”
She closed her eyes to keep from crying out in rage and frustration. “Bodach! May his rotten hide be eaten by a thousand beetles.”
“Yes, your Grace. He may have had Adhna since he left on his mission, but I couldn’t discover the details. Suffice to say, Bodach will use this to his advantage.”
“Son of a diseased donkey! There’s no telling what that creature has done to him.”
Grimnaugh glanced up and his gaze flicked to the platter of fruits the servants had brought. She gestured for him to help himself. He picked up one of the tart, fleshy, yellow fruits and bit deep, the juice dribbling down his chin. After he wiped it with his sleeve, he said, “Adhna is a strong Fae. He’s been in similar situations in the past, though with a Queen rather than a Consort. Still, Bodach’s mind is twisted, and he delights in pain.”
Clíodhna narrowed her eyes at her assistant. “So I’ve noticed. We need to save him, Grimnaugh.”
A doubtful expression crossed his face. “That isn’t as easy as you make it sound. Bodach is well-versed with imprisoning powerful beings.”
She stood, pacing around the small chamber several times before speaking. “There is no doubt of your information?”
“None, your Grace. If I had any doubt, I would have told you.”
Clíodhna had killed nothing but a few deer or rabbits in her life. At the moment, however, she imagined her hands around Bodach’s neck, squeezing the life out of his treacherous soul. She wanted to see him beg and scream for his life, and she wanted to deny him that boon.
Unclenching her fists, she turned back to Grimnaugh. “We need a plan. I suppose it’s a lucky thing we now have the pledged loyalty of most of my higher Fae and Queen Grian.”
“Not luck, my Queen. Sound planning on your part.”
She waved the comment away. “Whichever, it will prove most useful in our task. Adhna is well liked by most of the high court. Every session, someone is asking after Adhna and when he plans on returning. I can use that high regard to spur action.”
He squinted up at her. “What are you thinking?”
Clíodhna set her mouth in a hard line. “I’m thinking Bodach will not give up Adhna without a battle. He has a purpose in holding my lover, and he’s biding his time to use that when he wants to. I don’t mean to give him that advantage.”
Grimnaugh finished his fruit and tossed the pit onto the platter. “Go on.”
She rubbed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea where Adhna is being held?”
“Bodach has a stronghold on the border, near Grian’s realm. I’ve only been there once, long ago, and hope never to repeat the experience. A nasty place.”
“And are you certain Adhna is there? Nasty how?”
“Yes, he is there. My agent in Bodach’s guards assured me he’s seen Adhna in the bowels of the fortress. As for the nastiness, Bodach has infected the surrounding land with death. Nothing lives, not even in the very soil.”
A muscle in her jaw twitched. “He made a place in the mortal realm like that. A pit where he held Adhna. He must have done it again, but in Faerie.”
“The place is well-defended, your Grace. He has a great deal of followers and resources. Rescuing Adhna won’t be easy.”
Clíodhna placed her hands on her hips. She must construct a plan. She thought back to the wars between the gods and what their tactical details might tell her. Many of the tales told of great clashes between the Fir Bolg and the Tuatha Dé Dannan, and while these might be legends, they might hold clues to help her construct a battle plan.
“Do any of my loyal court have battle experience?”
Grimnaugh pursed his frog-lips in consideration. “While your greatest asset would have been Sanna, who you just exiled to the mortal realm, I judge Gabha to be a superior strategist.”
Clíodhna scoured her memory of her loyal Fae, and one popped into mind. “Gabha? Is he the bronze smith I met when I first arrived at court? The stout Fae with black skin?”
“That’s correct, your Grace.”
“Excellent. Send him to me so we might discuss our options. We must make certain we can win before we storm his fortress. Can you describe his defenses? How many troops does he have, and what are their strengths and weaknesses?”
“Not yet, but I can find out, your Grace.”
“Do that and come back to me with all the information you can gather. Other than being dead, I want details of the terrain, the approaches, and their defensibility. What weapons he might command, both magical and mundane. We’ll ask Gabha what other details might be useful for our initiative.”
Grimnaugh left to fetch Gabha and Clíodhna stewed about what else she might have to do. She must call in her favor from Grian for this, as Bodach’s dead lands marched along Grian’s border. Grian might even be glad of the opportunity to rid them both of his power, if they succeeded.
Gabha, his dark skin glistening in the low light, bowed as he entered. “How may I help you, my Queen?”
* * *
Clíodhna reflected that Cerul had been most accommodating. She’d summoned true wind and weather in Faerie, and even a thunderstorm on the horizon. Clíodhna might use this weather more easily than any other power, even the land itself, and felt easier for having it available.
She stood astride her horse, feeling silly in the frilly decorations over the battle armor. Her courtiers had draped both her and the horse with bronze armor so heavily, they could barely move, but Gabha insisted she be well-protected on the battlefield. While she had ridden horses all her life, it had taken much practice to learn how to both ride the horse and stay astride with all the armor. Her determination held her in good stead.
This Faerie mount spoke in her mind, and had been trained as a battle steed. That made all the difference.
Grimnaugh had assured her she wouldn’t wield the bronze blade at her side. She held it only in case of a direct attack, but her host wouldn’t allow Bodach’s warriors to get so close. Still, Gabha had schooled her in its use.
Her host. That seemed so odd to hear, but she had no other description for the thousands of Faerie troops that marched alongside her. Fae tall and small, human-like and not, tramped forward toward Bodach’s dead land. Grian had assured her she’d join her troops along her own border, but urged her not to cross until the battle began.
When Clíodhna had quizzed Grimnaugh on why, his eyes had grown wide. “Do you not know? This is a time in the mortal realm where the veil between worlds is thin. ‘Tis the middle of the summer season, when the days there stretch the longest and the darkness grows short.”
“Midsummer?” she narrowed her eyes at her assistant. “How does midsummer affect the battle?”
“The veil affects any wielding of power, your Grace. Bodach’s magic can slip into the mortal realm, as can yours. Those mortals might even perceive us if the battle should go into their night.”
She bit her lip. She didn’t want to endanger any humans in her initiative. However, Bodach had discovered her purpose. Grimnaugh let her know he’d gathered his own troops, so she had little choice. If she waited too long, Bodach would make any incursion impossible. She must strike now.
As they grew closer to Bodach’s fortress, the character of the land changed. The almost-butterflies no longer flew beside them. The tall grasses wilted and clung to the ground. Ponds grew into marshes and bogs. Trees grew gnarled and twisted and became dead hulks of lifeless wood. Stones melted into horrific shapes, as if creatures had been frozen into a rictus of intense pain, lined the pathway down into Bodach’s demesne. Each one reached out to grab at those passing by, forever frozen in time. The buzz of insects silenced into the bubbling of noxious gases from the swamps. Those foul gases filled the air with an intense miasma, making her choke and cover her mouth with her sleeve.
The tramp of thousands of feet, hooves, and claws drew toward
the fortress, each face set in grim determination. Too many of those assembled had suffered at Bodach’s hands. Adhna remained, as Clíodhna had surmised, well-loved and his imprisonment became enough reason for most of them to march at her command, even if they hadn’t vowed loyalty. This assuaged her conscience that many of them might fall in her fight to save her lover. She battled with the selfishness of this clash, but she could do nothing else. Adhna remained her love and her light, her mentor, and her teacher. She would not betray him by leaving him in Bodach’s care any longer.
His fortress loomed in the distance, a black crag over a bare plain. Small jets of smoke emerged from small holes in the dirt, the smell of sulfur emerging from them. Cerul, riding beside her, wrinkled her nose at disgust and Clíodhna flashed her a half-smile. The beautiful, elegant Fae would be out of sorts in this horrid landscape. But she needed the Fae’s power over the light and darkness of Faerie to support her own weather magic.
Bodach’s troops surrounded his fortress like a dark ocean. They undulated in the half-light, growling and screeching, much like Sanna the marsh Fae had. He must have garnered many of the marsh Fae and the wild Fae, now she had banished their leaders to the mortal world. He must have been preparing for this eventuality for a long time. Perhaps he’d even encouraged the other Fae to revolt in the first place, which set into motion both Queen Áine’s death and her own rise to power.
But why would he want to place Clíodhna into power, only to challenge that power later? Grimnaugh had assured her a Consort couldn’t rule on his own without a Queen. He must have expected her to fall into line, a puppet to his desires, something to play with like a toy. When she’d remained firm in her own opinions, he’d decided she wouldn’t suit as much as he’d hoped, so he kidnapped Adhna.
No, Adhna had been missing even before the prior Queen died, or so Grimnaugh believed. Bodach had been playing a long game. Regardless, he would pay now.
Her troops formed a rough semi-circle around Bodach’s troops, and Grian’s troops stood on the other side, enclosing the area in an inescapable trap. Did Bodach know of Grian’s agreement ahead of time? She hoped that detail had escaped his intelligence. With the other Queen’s troops, they had the numeric advantage, but such things might count for naught if he had time to prepare for a siege.
Age of Druids: Druid's Brooch Series: #9 Page 25