The Plan Commences

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The Plan Commences Page 33

by Kristen Ashley


  I fought my husband’s hold, as we were headed where the dragons were going, though it didn’t matter where they were headed since now they were everywhere. They filled the skies, blocking out the sun.

  “Aramus!” I shrieked.

  He stopped, pulled me close, wrapped his arms around me and coaxed, “Baby, calm. It’s all right. Frey is friend and Frey commands the dragons. He must have heard word about the Beast and comes to our aid…with his own beasts.”

  Oh.

  Well then.

  We were close to the water, and after my husband shared this with me and sensed I had taken it in, he tipped his head back to watch the dragons.

  I did as well, and considering they were not going to rain dragonfire on us at any random moment their dragon brains told them they should do this, it struck me they were rather magnificent beasts.

  They flew well out to sea, until, as one, they made a graceful turn, flapping back.

  Aramus and I turned with them and thus we were prized with the opportunity to watch, as in formation they shifted their heads and shoulders back, extending their powerful legs with those fearsome claws. Then massive sprays of sand rose up as they landed one after another after another on the beach.

  We watched this spectacle, and we continued to watch even after the last dragon landed and some of them had sat, hind quarters bent, front claws to the ground, their long, thin, forked tongues drifting out of their mouths, their reptilian eyes blinking.

  Some even settled all the way to the sand to lie down, their mighty tails curled around a flank, their webbed wings standing proud at their backs.

  “They’re incredible,” I whispered, for even if they seemed tranquil, and they were at least one hundred meters way, I didn’t wish to rile them. “Have you seen them before?”

  “Never, but I’m glad of the seeing,” Aramus replied before he turned us, and we saw what I was surprised to see, but apparently, my husband was not.

  A handsome, four-masted galleon sailing around an outcropping of sand, stone and trees some five hundred meters up the beach.

  Aramus chuckled.

  “She’s almost prettier than your ship,” I breathed.

  Aramus stopped chuckling and his arm about my shoulders gave me an unhappy squeeze.

  I looked up at him. “I said ‘almost.’”

  “Nothing is remotely close to the beauty of the Siren’s Scream.”

  I scrunched my nose, not because he wasn’t right, his ship was gorgeous, but because…

  That name.

  “I have long-since decided she’ll be rechristened Her Majesty’s Beauty when we return to Nautilus, does that make you more loyal to her?” he asked.

  I felt my chin go back in my neck in shock.

  “You’re rechristening her?” I whispered.

  “Of course,” he said like my question was ridiculous. “I am a seaman with three mistresses. One is the sea. One is my ship. The last is my wife. I cannot rename the seas of Triton, or I would, so they all would be one. But I can rechristen my ship.”

  Oh dear.

  I might weep.

  And oh yes.

  He was earning my love.

  Aramus stared at me.

  He then noted, “Ha-Lah, my father’s ship was called the King’s Dream, this after my mother. And my grandfather’s was called Crystal Magic, for my grandmother had eyes much like your own.”

  “I did not know this.”

  “I told you about my grandmother’s eyes some nights ago.”

  “I mean, about the ships.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  Now I knew.

  There was an army of dragons on the beach behind me. A beautiful galleon heralding a surprise visit from an apparently powerful man who was a friend of my husband’s. A welcome visit, with what we might be facing.

  But all I could think was “Her Majesty’s Beauty” had a lovely ring to it.

  “I see this makes you happy,” Aramus remarked.

  “It’s the highest honor I’ve ever been given,” I replied.

  His brows shot together. “Wife, you married a king.”

  I smiled up at him as I pressed into his body. “The second highest honor, I mean.”

  He scowled down at me.

  I kept smiling up at him.

  “As heartening as many might think witnessing your style of flirtation,” Ore said from close, and both my husband and I looked his way, “it’s making me ill. Not to mention, Frey is hailing. Shall we hail back? Or perhaps give him a bent arm fist. Right before, of course, he orders his dragons to annihilate us.”

  I suppressed a giggle.

  The bent arm fist, when you clap your other hand into your elbow while doing it, was rather rude.

  Though it didn’t invite dragonfire, in my opinion.

  “Hail him,” Aramus gave the obvious order.

  Ore strode off.

  I tipped my head to again look up at my husband, stating, “This is exciting.”

  “This is exceptional,” he returned. “I sent our remaining ships to Sky Bay. One had gone home to ready our fleet should Cassius need our aid. Another had done the same to transport Cat’s body so he could be at rest. I did not expect the delay in True and Farah’s wedding, so by the time the other ships arrived to us and we sailed to the River Fae to take it down to Notting Thicket, it would be longer than riding. Now, we can board The Finnie and sail with Frey and the rest of the men can ride through that sand and heat until they meet the wet and chill. I was not looking forward to that and more, not looking forward to putting you through it.”

  And I was not looking forward to doing that.

  “Thus, my Ha-Lah,” he carried on, “you do not have to leave the sea.”

  And again, yes.

  My husband was earning my love.

  Swiftly.

  However, I had plans for that eve, or one in the not too distant future.

  “And Frey will likely give us a cabin,” Aramus continued. “And although there will be men around, there will be a proper bed and I can think of only one more suitable place to make my wife my wife. That being in my bed on the Scream. But this will do.”

  To that, I shot him a blinding smile because I agreed.

  This would do.

  I turned my gaze away from the soft look my husband was giving me to the ship that was apparently called The Finnie.

  Yes, it would do.

  Absolutely.

  “Oh…my…God, I am so totally having gowns made like that for me,” the white-haired woman proclaimed about two seconds after she alighted from the boat that had been rowed from The Finnie.

  Two very tall, very built, very handsome men had jumped into the surf to guide the boat to the shore, the only passengers two women.

  One was wearing a shirt much like my husband often wore (and like one of the men with her wore, though his was brown). It was white with billowing sleeves and unlaced at the neck. On the bottom, she wore breeches and boots.

  The other woman was a redhead in a pretty, peach gown with cap sleeves and an empire waist.

  I did not think much on this.

  I thought it odd, the white-haired one’s vernacular.

  “I am too. Holy crap. It’s fab,” the redheaded woman said as she flipped off her slippers without thought, dragged her skirts up to her thighs and jumped out of the boat after her companion.

  “Hey, I’m Finnie,” the white-haired one said to me, extending a hand like we would shake.

  Did she not know I was queen?

  “And this is Maddie,” she went on, tipping her head to the side to indicate the redhead.

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  “Wee wife, this is Queen Ha-Lah of the Mar-el,” one of the big, built men informed her.

  “Oh, right, yeah, the royal rigmarole,” the white-haired one muttered. She dropped her hand, dipped a perfunctory curtsy that was amusing, considering she had no skirts, and said, “I’m Seoafin, Ice Princess of Lunwyn. And this is Lad
y Madeleine, wife of Lord Apollo,” she jerked her head back to the other man, “Head of the House of Ulfr. And this is my husband, Frey, commander of dragons and elves and all-around hot guy that is impervious to age, which is kinda annoying since every day, I get a new wrinkle.”

  “You do not,” the redhead snapped.

  “I so do, look,” the white-haired one demanded, jabbing a finger at her forehead.

  The redhead squinted at her forehead and stated, “I see nothing.”

  “It’s there,” the white-haired one stressed.

  “It isn’t, Finnie. It’s in your imagination.”

  “I’m in the sun all the time and we’re almost out of sunblock,” the white-haired one said, then turned to me. “I need to get a message to Valentine. She’ll stock us up.”

  “Er…” I murmured.

  The big man at Finnie’s side moved forward, casting her a glance that looked part beleaguered, part besotted, before he turned his attention to me, swept down in a somewhat respectful (but not entirely) bow and rose.

  “As my wife said, I am Frey, and it is an honor to meet you, Queen Ha-Lah.”

  “It is indeed. And you, King Aramus,” said the other man, who might not be as big as Frey, but he was still large, and dark headed, as was Frey, though there was just a hint of silver in each man’s hair. This one swept a low, respectful bow and came up, declaring in a deep voice, “Apollo Ulfr.”

  I nodded, fascinated, for he had the most extraordinary green eyes.

  Even greener than Prince True’s.

  True’s reminded me of the forest.

  This man’s looked like jade.

  “We forget, we’ve been together so long,” the redhead batted a hand between herself and Finnie, “it’s good to be around someone from home that, we, uh…that is…” She faltered then smiled. “I’m so honored to meet you.”

  She then curtsied much like her husband, that being properly.

  I dipped my head, fascinated by these two bizarre-acting females.

  “Aramus,” Frey stated, moving to my husband and clasping his hand.

  “Frey,” my husband replied, clasping back and then they pounded each other stoutly on their shoulders.

  They broke, and Frey threw out a hand. “As noted, my wife and my friends.”

  My husband nodded to the others and looked back to Frey.

  “Should I deduce the elves have been talking?” he asked, tipping his head toward the dragons.

  Frey’s face grew serious. “We were warned and did not delay taking our voyage.”

  “And how did you find us?” Aramus asked. “We’re far from home.”

  “We were headed to Nautilus but received a message from a witch we know. She guided our way,” Frey answered.

  I wondered what witch knew of us but did not get the chance to ask.

  “It is good you’re here,” Aramus said low.

  “I’m glad you think so, for it isn’t only us. I’ve sent for Lahn and Tor,” Frey informed him.

  I felt grave surprise.

  “Dax Lahn?” I asked. “The mightiest warrior of The Southlands?”

  “The mightiest warrior anywhere, I’d say,” Apollo entered the conversation.

  “And King Noctorno of Hawkvale and Bellebryn,” Frey noted, and his attention shifted to Aramus. “They’re some weeks behind, but they’re coming.”

  “It’s our understanding we’ll need all the might we can get. Therefore, they’ll be most welcome additions. If the Beast ever surfaces,” my husband said.

  “I had noticed things seem peaceful,” Finnie remarked. “We were expecting pandemonium.”

  “The last quake we had was the mightiest of all,” Aramus told her.

  “I expect it was,” Frey replied. “At sail, we felt it as a swell we nearly did not navigate.”

  Aramus nodded, his face grim, and he looked down at me.

  I moved closer to him.

  If they felt it as a swell at sea, it would have been a fierce tidal that hit Mar-el.

  “We have not received any birds that communicated devastation,” I reminded him, sliding an arm around his waist. “Our people are hearty. They will endure.”

  He curved his arm around my shoulders and nodded, though he looked no less grim at my assurances.

  “Nothing since, King Aramus, and it’s been weeks,” Apollo put in.

  My husband gave the man his attention. “It has gone off schedule. We cannot know if this is good, or if it is bad. With the last quake, we also heard a mighty roar. It was made clear with that, not only is he closer to the surface, he is angry. He’s been imprisoned under the earth for millennia. We are on guard.”

  “There is a prophecy—” Frey began.

  “We know of it,” Aramus told him, pulling me even closer. “And it’s in hand. Mars, the king of Firenze, has wed Silence, Countess of the Arbor of Wodell. In roughly a month’s time, Prince True of Wodell will marry Farah of Firenze. After that, we’re to Airen in order that Prince Cassius can marry Princess Elena of the Nadirii.”

  Frey cast a satisfied glance at Apollo. “So love has prevailed. Excellent news.”

  “Love has prevailed?” I asked.

  Frey looked to me and stated simply, “The prophecy.”

  “Yes,” I said. “The unions of these nations through marriage will give additional power to the men and women wed.”

  “Through love,” Frey amended.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I told him.

  Frey looked from me, to Apollo, his wife then to Aramus.

  “These are not love matches you speak of?” he inquired.

  “No. Arranged marriages, to fulfill the prophecy,” my husband answered, but I could feel the stiffness in his frame.

  The others shifted uncomfortably as they gazed about each other in the same manner.

  “What have the elves told you?” Aramus demanded.

  Frey sighed before he replied, “The power the united will wield does not come from the union of nations. Or the union of flesh. It comes from love.”

  Love?

  I tipped my head back to look at my husband just as he tipped his down to look at me.

  Mars and Silence, I could see that happening.

  Aramus and me, it was definitely happening.

  Cassius and Elena and True and Farah?

  “Shite,” Aramus spoke my thoughts out loud.

  Shite, indeed.

  “Well, this is lovely. Just, er, well…lovely,” I blathered as I walked into the captain’s cabin aboard The Finnie, my husband following me.

  We had all taken a meal together on the beach, Aramus and his men briefing Frey and his men about all the goings-on, Frey and his men sharing news from across the Green Sea, the women listening intently.

  My husband had then asked if we might ride with them up the coast, turning east from the Triton Sea along the north coast of Wodell, through the Seil Sea, into the River Fae, which would lead us inland and right to Notting Thicket.

  Frey had immediately agreed.

  However, Finnie and Maddie had begged for some time with their feet on land to have the opportunity to relax, “sunbathe” and “maybe find something we can make into a Frisbee.”

  I found both these women quite odd, though engaging.

  What was odder was that their men did not seem odd.

  I’d met people from The Northlands.

  These men acted like that.

  The women did not.

  At least, not exactly.

  The way they spoke was often very strange and on occasion they said things that mystified me.

  I saw my husband casting curious glances their way as well, but like me, he said naught.

  Though considering sailing to Notting Thicket would take half the time as riding, he agreed to a delay in leaving, but requested, “Time aboard your ship for my wife and I. We have not had much privacy since leaving Fire City.”

  I found the wide grins the women gave me and knowing smiles the m
en gave Aramus vaguely embarrassing. However, I was so tuned for Frey’s response, I did not pay that feeling much attention.

  “Of course,” Frey agreed. “We’ll change cabin for tent. Do you have accommodation for Maddie and Apollo?”

  “If we don’t, we’ll make it,” Aramus answered.

  I was instantly relieved, thrilled, ecstatic.

  And then I was petrified.

  It would happen…tonight.

  I would become my husband’s wife…tonight.

  My husband would be my true husband…

  Tonight.

  He had experience that could not be construed as “not much.”

  I had the fumblings of youth and then some other fumblings that were just…not much.

  I was no longer virgin, but although I had felt desire, and excitement (most of this happening with what I’d done with Aramus), beyond that…well…

  That was it.

  Not much.

  What if that was about me, and not as I had thought, that it was about my partner?

  What if Aramus enjoyed my touch and kisses, but when things became more ardent, he did not enjoy what I did not know how to do?

  What if it was I who was fumbling?

  I hid my anxiety as best I could as Finnie demanded to row back to the ship to retrieve some things and “make the cabin presentable,” upon which a heated discussion that could easily be termed an argument broke out about how Frey would row her, how Finnie was quite capable of rowing herself, thank you, and how Frey knew that but he did not care, etcetera.

  “They do this a lot,” Maddie muttered after leaning toward me. “Married for decades, Frey will not get it into his head that ‘me, Tarzan, you Jane’ thing doesn’t work with Finnie.”

  “Tarzan and Jane?” I asked.

  “You know, he’s all alpha man looking after his woman and she’s all for alpha in bed, but the rest, not so much.”

  “Alpha man?” I inquired.

  “Do you have wolves in this land?” she queried.

  “The mainland does, but…” What she was saying dawned on me and I smiled. “Alpha. I see. Clever.”

  “My husband commands the wolves,” she shared.

 

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