The duke evidently experienced no disruptions to his slumber; Claudine heard him snoring like a growling bear, even through the door separating their chambers. She hoped he hadn’t been at the spiced ale again—too much of it always gave him a thundering headache the next morning.
Irritably, Claudine flung off her pink coverlet and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She reached with her cold toes, for her woolen slippers, putting them on before leaving her warm cocoon.
There was no sense attempting to sleep when she knew her destined end was near. Truly, perhaps she should not indulge in gloomy thoughts. Perhaps she herself possessed some magic which would thwart Serpentine. “Dragon’s eyes!” she thought, “If only I knew spells wicked enough to counter hers.”
Claudine lit several of the bees wax candles. “Boar’s tusks! I must know one spell which would waylay my aunt.”
The duchess paced furiously as she sought to remember the esoteric books her mother had forced her and her sisters to read. If only she had not resented the time they had taken from her true passion—embroidery and crewel work.
Resting on the onyx table, her unfinished cushion cover rested, its silken threads dangling over the side. It would never be finished. Claudine picked it up and cast it back down.
She stood in the moonlight shining through the latticed balcony window. Her book of hours rested on a carved table next to it, along with a crystal decanter of port. She pulled the heavy curtains open. The night seemed ordinary.
Claudine suspected the moon outlined her figure in her nightgown. But the duchess had more important matters than modesty to concern herself with.
The posted guard making his turns on her balcony stopped and gave her a cheeky salute. Claudine shook her head at the young man’s audacity. The knights seemed to grow younger each year. This whelp could not be more than seventeen summers.
She poured herself a generous dose of the plum colored port and took a hearty gulp. Suddenly, a rustle outside her balcony caught her attention.
A mist surrounded the young guard as he crumpled to the balcony floor. Blood dribbled from his mouth, his ears, his nose, and his eyes. Then Claudine noticed the woman sized grey mist hovering outside the large balcony glass window. Her aunt had arrived.
Claudine uttered a protective charm under her breath, “Loving One who guards us all, Keep my dear ones in your hall. Shelter them from storms of life, from discord, ill-will and strife. Embrace them in your safe arms, I ask on the elfin charm.”
Suddenly the hairs on her arm and on the back of her neck stood on end. Her heart raced as the mist gradually formed into their enemy. First an ermine cloak became clear, next a diamond gown, and lastly, the pale face of her mother’s twin glared at her, from the other side of the window.
Claudine withdrew her emerald handled dagger from her sewing basket as she watched the sorceress approach the glass paned door. Her Aunt Serpentine stared boldly at her through the glass. The Duchess grasped her dagger and uttered a blocking spell, “Winds of fate, threads of hate—keep away her distaste.”
Claudine smiled when her aunt tried to open the door latch and it would not budge.
The sorceress’s watery grey eyes were a winter lake frozen with disdain. Claudine was mesmerized by the icy gaze that held her own. It penetrated her soul. If evil glances could kill, Claudine would be prostrate on the floor.
She had waylaid Serpentine! Perhaps the blocking spell would hold. Truly, she need not feel like a helpless flower, waiting to be plucked. She would fight!
Claudine found the sight of Serpentine in a diamond encrusted white wedding gown unusual, when as far as anyone knew, she had never married. It shimmered in the moonlight like an other worldly garment; the fortune contained in its folds of fabric amazed her.
Claudine flinched as the snakes around her aunt’s arms hissed. Thank Heaven; they were on the other side of the glass.
Serpentine moved her lips and Claudine feared her aunt uttered a counter spell. The sorceress tried the door latch again. It rattled but held. Claudine sighed as she realized her blocking spell still functioned.
Then her chamber door thrust open and Queen Annaliese entered. The girl’s mother rushed over to Claudine as she chanted a protective spell of her own, “Heaven’s light, love’s delight—torment now dark fright.” The queen held a large ruby in her outstretched hand as she spun in a slow circle.
Claudine had never seen such anger in her mother’s eyes as she glared at the sorceress through the glass. Serpentine’s mouth pressed together in an angry line as she chanted furiously. All the while Queen Annaliese kept her hand outstretched, still clutching the ruby. Her cheeks grew red with the effort of repeating the protective spell and her eyes watered as if she were in pain.
Claudine tried to slow her racing heartbeat as Queen Annaliese’s arm began to twitch and bruises appeared along the length of it. “Mother, please let go. You must protect yourself!” Claudine cried out as Serpentine spun furiously outside the balcony window.
Faint cracks sounded as the glass began to break and Queen Annaliese placed herself in front of her daughter. Serpentine kicked the door and its glass shattered onto the stone floor.
Serpentine strode over to her sister and smacked her viciously across her cheek. Queen Annaliese flinched. The sorceress said, “You flatter yourself again, sister, if you think your magic is stronger than mine.”
“So you say, but I have gained in strength. You forget, Serpentine, that Serese is more powerful than both of us.”
“All you mutter is lies, Annaliese. You stole Henry from me. I should have been born first but you held me back by my ankle so you could squeeze your way out of the womb ahead of me. The crown on your head is rightfully mine.”
Queen Annaliese said, “Henry may have noticed you first but he chose me. You could never accept that he loved me instead of you. How sad that anger has consumed you. You could have chosen Duke Abington, who loved you. He would have made a fine husband.”
“You always did chatter like a magpie. I wanted Henry, not that doddering old duke. I had him. You stole him. There is no other account. Now you may beg prettily, if you like. Your death shall bring me more satisfaction than I have had in years.” Serpentine held in her hand a large grey diamond. She stretched her hand out before the queen. Smiling maliciously at her sister, she said, “Revenge is fire, it lights desire—avenge my ire, destroy the liar.”
Nothing untoward happened. Claudine gasped as her mother smiled and Serpentine frowned.
“It cannot be,” the sorceress sputtered in rage, “Where did you acquire your power? There are no dragons in your castle.”
“There are other ways of learning. Other paths of knowledge. Lighter ones of which you know nothing. It is time for you to depart, Serai, before the wizard I have summoned arrives.” Queen Annaliese brandished her ruby before like a fiery torch and Serpentine shifted nervously out of its reach. The red stone glowed and the snakes upon the sorceress’s arm slithered back into their nest.
“Do not call me by that name. I am not that foolish girl any longer.” Serpentine flung her hands out in disgust.
From across the room, Serpentine paced while uttering strange guttural words under her breath. Queen Annaliese stepped back in alarm as a black mist formed around Serpentine, embracing her sister in its hazy arms. Quickly, the dark magic floated through the air until it surrounded Queen Annaliese.
Claudine cried out as her mother choked. The queen struggled to free herself from the suffocating cloud but she could not. Her hands grasped her throat as she bent over double, racked with wrenching coughs. Collapsing to the floor, Claudine tried to run to her mother but some dark force prevented her from moving.
Claudine watched helplessly as her aunt drew near. The diamonds on her gown shimmered like light on a quiet lake. Claudine realized which misfortune had turned her aunt into this evil creature. It astonished her that her own father had been loved by her aunt. Her aunt’s wedding gown seemed to indic
ate she still harbored feelings for King Henry. The situation smacked of court intrigues of the worst kind.
Serpentine smiled coldly and said, “I expected more power from one who has worn the opal. You could have had a promising life, with your prophetic inclinations. Perhaps you would join me?”
Claudine shook her head, “I serve the light, as do my mother, my sister, and my other aunt.”
Serpentine shrugged, “Well, I had to ask. I hate to squander talent such as yours. Of course, the choice is entirely your own.”
Claudine moved behind the marble table, putting as much distance between herself and Serpentine as possible.
“You could leave and never come back. The ancients might spare you. Prophecies can be prevented.” Claudine stood her ground then. Perhaps she could reason with her.
“But my plans have been thwarted by your troublesome young sister. My son is lost to me. You needn’t look so relieved, my dear, they have not succeeded yet,” Serpentine’s silky voice pouted. “I must have revenge. Since I cannot kill your mother, I will settle for her daughter, whose magic is not so powerful.” Serpentine glanced angrily at Annaliese who coughed feebly in the smoke.
“You will not win. My sister is stronger than you. There are many who will offer her aid,” Claudine said.
Serpentine smiled a bitter smile as she lightly grasped Claudine’s chin, “You are mistaken, my child. I will not be outwitted or overthrown. Your death will put an arrow in your father’s heart. That bastard Henry deserves to feel anguish as I have.”
The silvery snake on Serpentine’s arm maneuvered its way toward Claudine, striking out. But the duchess caught it in her hand. The snake’s head reached just out of biting distance as it gnashed its fangs uselessly. All the while, Claudine whispered a protective spell under her breath, “Angels swords, pierce the dark. Alight now, guard their hearts. Mercy give, that they live.”
Claudine held the one snake away from her but she did not see its mate sneaking down Serpentine’s other arm. Suddenly, the second snake lashed out, latching its fangs into Claudine’s arm. The duchess cried out as she clutched her arm. Her face turned white and ashen. Her pupils dilated and her breathing became labored. She stared in astonishment at Serpentine who merely continued to smile a she stroked her pets.
The skin around the bite puckered and turned purple. The poison quickly took effect as the young woman slumped listlessly to the floor. Then her eyes closed one last time. The Duchess Claudine Cardwell met her kin in the kingdom in the clouds.
The sorceress smiled as she cooed to her death dealing snake. She strode to the adjoining door leading to the duke’s bedroom and opened it. In a sudden burst, she rushed into the other chamber.
As soon as she uttered her spell, she knew a powerful block had been placed on it.
Duke Henry was rudely awakened from a satisfying dream of a stag hunt by a strange feminine shout. He hastily swept the bed curtains aside. He scrambled out of his sound sleep to observe a furious pale woman clothed in white, screaming in his room.
He blinked several times to ascertain this vision was not a nightmare. No, he was awake and this pandemonium could not be blamed on his over partaking of that exceptional ale.
The woman was not his beloved wife. Instead, he recognized Queen Annaliese’s estranged twin, Serpentine. The girl whose wicked heart had changed her into a sorceress.
He must dispense with her straight forth! If only he were more steady on his feet. If only his head did not thunder like a battalions’ worth of horses stampeded in it!
He grabbed his sword from the chair next to the bed. He tripped over his doublet on the floor, stubbing his bare toe on the marble table leg before him. He cursed as he held his sword out. He watched the shrieking sorceress.
It required careful listening with his benumbed senses to make out what she hollered about. He heard her say, “Claudine could not have known the protective spell! Who would trust her with such a powerful incantation? She has covered the castle with white magic; I cannot break through! I cannot kill another!”
At the mention of killing, Henry hurried over to Serpentine, his sword aloft. Before he could thrust his sword into her, she turned into a pillar of smoke. Then, to his astonishment, she floated out of his window. He stared after her, shocked, wondering exactly what sort of dark magic had invaded Argot castle.
He really needed to stay away from King Argot’s specialty brew; he feared he now imagined incredible things. Then he heard Serpentine’s voice shout from below his window, “Withdraw! Retreat! Argot castle is beyond our reach!”
Duke Henry rushed into his wife’s room and discovered Claudine, clutched in Queen Annaliese’s arms. The queen mother rocked his Claudine, back and forth, smoothing her child’s hair. The queen’s tears fell on her daughter’s unmoving face. Claudine’s eyes stared blankly; the life within their emerald depths had vanished.
Duke Henry knelt beside his wife and felt her chest. There was no thudding. Her heart had stilled. His beloved darling was dead. His bellows of rage woke the entire castle. He stormed out of the room, eager to dispatch what knights remained after Serpentine.
Queen Annaliese murmured, “I am truly sorry, my darling. I cannot believe it has come to this. I will never forgive myself.”
The Argot queen wondered how the rest of her family had escaped, for her sister’s attacks were legendary for their brutality. Serpentine left no survivors. A cloud passed over her soul when she realized that somehow Claudine had protected them. The queen sobbed anew. No mother should have to bury her child.
Queen Annaliese would not rest until Serpentine suffered as her own dear child had. To think, she had been forced to watch helplessly, as Serpentine murdered Claudine—it only strengthened her resolve. She would find a way to increase the magic in Serese. It did not matter if the necessary spell work frightened her; she would learn it henceforth.
Chapter Thirty-One
The morning sun bloomed over Serese as she slept on her side, curled next to the wolf. Lord Forn lay lightly snoring on the wolf king’s other side. Her canine chaperone had placed himself between the besotted would-be-lovers for the protection of her purity. Her black hair still draped over Lord Forn’s cloak. But Sir Roan had laid his muzzle over Lord Forn’s wandering hand sometime in the middle of the night. A light nip had been all the discouragement the randy lord had required before withdrawing his offending appendage. Jonathan snuggled next to Serese’s other side and the wolf wished for more reinforcements to guard the chastity of his charge.
The embers of a dying fire released a remnant of heat, while dry meadow grasses swayed in the winter breeze. They had rested after a half-day’s hike outside of the cursed forest. They were now only a day’s journey from the Night dweller caves, their destination.
The black rocks of the sorceress’s mountain range reached for them with bony fingers. Her fortress now loomed only a few day’s distance from them. But the exhausted band of warriors had slept, despite their proximity to Serpentine’s lair.
Princess Serese fidgeted from a nightmare where she saw her sister Claudine lying prostrate on the floor. Serese knew then that she had been killed by Serpentine. The princess woke fitfully, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She gently removed her cloak from under Sir Roan and Lord Forn, not wishing to wake her companions.
Their hike from the rubble of the cottage yesterday evening had left them all exhausted. Of course, the men would never admit it but Serese knew the earth faerie queen’s attack still lingered in their minds. She feared the pixie harridan would show her self again and part of Serese longed for the chance to permanently vanquish the evil queen.
Serese headed to an outcropping of boulders in view of their campsite, and after selecting a smooth one to lean against; she sat on the cold earth. She was partially hidden from the men; the ground was frozen but her cloak offered enough protection.
Sometimes, her smelly companions stretched her patience. Now she sought a moment of peace, alone with her
thoughts. Thankful to be away from the annoying rivalry which had sprung up between Jonathan and Lord Forn. From the way the two of them tried to outdo each other, Serese suspected Jonathan thought he could win her away from her beloved. He could not. But the pig-headed shepherd would not admit it, despite the many times Serese let Lord Forn kiss her quite shamelessly upon her mouth.
She thought of the kisses he had given her last night and her heart warmed as she recalled how she had nearly fainted. Truly, it would take all of the saints in heaven to keep her chastity intact. If only her purity had no bearing on the whole unfortunate prophecy. She wanted to fulfill the ancients’ hopes. The price of disappointing them would be disastrous. It became more difficult every day not to succumb to Lord Forn’s suggestions.
Peacock feathers! She was a proper princess and she would remain strong!
Her dark braid had come undone and she re-braided it; she knew her face was smudged with dirt. She remembered her last bath, in the lake. She would relish the feel of warm water on her skin, but she was not eager to experience another boat ride anytime soon.
Serese recalled what had happened to her opal charm yesterday when it had grown hot, without leaving a vision. It did not make sense. She grasped the talisman in her hand and stared at it, willing it to speak to her. Of course, it did no such thing. Bats Dung!
If only she had paid attention to the prayers her queen mother had whispered to her during chapel. For Serese now suspected they were actually powerful incantations which her mother had been trying to pass on to her. Of course, it was known the women in her family had certain predispositions toward magic. But since her mother’s sister had gone completely dark, their gifts were not openly admired. Now Serese regretted her lack of attention; she would need to recall those protective spells in order to vanquish Serpentine.
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