by Quinn Loftis
As I walked down the castle corridors, I awed at the transformation the dreary stone structure had undergone. My mother had outdone herself. Banners heralded our family crest proudly as they hung throughout the halls. Four long strips of fabric had been woven together—two were our colors and two were Tara’s. It was fastened along the wall, rising and falling like rolling hills. At every dip, a huge bouquet of flowers, also the two kingdoms’ colors, was attached to the fabric. This continued along every corridor, on every wall throughout the castle. Every oil lamp was also adorned with flowers and a bow. The harmonization of the colors still left something to be desired, but against the grey stone of the walls, there was something striking about the green, black, yellow, and white joining in a kaleidoscope of disjointed adornment.
Once the shock of the splendor had settled, I continued my trek to snag some of Sylvia’s bacon. Even though I could’ve had breakfast brought to my room, I preferred to get it myself, mostly so I had an excuse to see Sylvia, and today I really needed her matter-of-fact air and tell-it-like-it-is ways. She would not blow smoke up my petticoat or tell me what I wanted to hear. Sylvia would tell me what she thought, regardless of how it might make me feel.
I passed through the main dining hall through a swinging door that lead to a small hallway. The hallway opened into a large kitchen where no less than ten cooks moved with practiced ease around each other. It looked like a synchronized dance. The clanking of pots, swishing of spoons, and sizzling of food was their music and Sylvia their choreographer. The head cook called out orders, pointed directions, and worked just as hard as the staff she pushed.
“Bacon, eggs, and toast, Allie?” Sylvia asked without even turning around to see I was there. She was the only person who shortened my name to Allie, but I liked the endearment.
“You know the way to my heart, Sylvia.” I grinned and took my spot on the empty stool and out of the way. I only waited a few minutes before she set a plate in my lap with a towel underneath it to keep from burning me or getting anything on my dress. I nearly drooled at the mouthwatering food; its tantalizing aromas rising to fill my nose.
“Why, hello there,” I said to the food. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“You are talking to your food, Allete,” Dayna said from behind me. “I think you have officially cracked.”
“Why, dear Sister, whatever do you mean?” I said in a mock-haughty voice. “What pressure could possibly crack one such as I?”
“I do not know, but that intolerable voice just proved my point.” Dayna eyed my plate. “Going to share?”
“Did you meet a grizzly bear in full court-dress this morning ready to attend my wedding?” I asked just before taking a bite of bacon. I moaned as the rich flavor filled my mouth, and I wondered if Sylvia would want to go with me to Tara—not that Father would ever let her leave.
“Sounds like you’re practicing the sounds you will be making on your wedding night,” Thomas said as he slipped in through the side door that led to the chicken coupes.
Dayna snorted as she attempted to cover her laughter. I did not find it quite as amusing.
“And how, exactly, do you know what sounds are made on a wedding night, Thomas? Have you been a scoundrel and taken the virtue of maidens who fell for your handsome face?” I asked him and then followed it with a bite of eggs. I easily ignored any other comments my cousin or sister made, my focus keen on my meal, which had begun to feel a bit like a last meal.
“Are you planning on eating like that in front of your future husband this evening at the reception feast?” Thomas laughed as he nodded his head to my now-empty plate. Perhaps I did eat a little like a pig at a feeding trough, but Sylvia’s food could do that to a person.
“Thomas, is there a reason you are disturbing my morning with your ridiculous comments and tiring questions?” I asked as I glared up at him.
He walked over and patted my head in the patronizing manner he knew I hated. “I just wanted to spend some time with my dearest cousin while she is still innocent and unjaded by the pressures and responsibilities of a queen.”
While his statement was meant to tease, I could hear the sincerity in his words. He was going to miss me, and I would miss him just as fiercely.
I stood up and took my plate to the wash basin, but one of the cooks snatched it out of my hand before I could even begin to wash it. Turning to Thomas and Dayna, I put on my best I-can-do-this smile. “How about the fearsome trio take one last ride together?”
Thomas glanced over to Captain Clay. “I’ll take it from here. When we return, you can resume your guard.”
Clay gave a slight bow to Thomas, but shot me a look that said I had better behave.
We had been riding for a little over two hours when we heard the trumpets announcing the arrival of the Tara’s king and his entourage. I pulled my horse to a halt, looking back at the palace I’d called home for eighteen years. My chest tightened as the reality of my situation began to set in—in a month’s time. I was leaving for good. Even though I’d always hoped to leave—that was not in question—this was not the way I’d imagined. I wanted to leave without a king for a husband in tow.
“Should we go back?” Dayna asked, sounding as if she thought this was the worst idea ever.
“Why?” Thomas asked. “It is not like he is going anywhere. You have a month to endure his wooing. He will still be there when we are finished with our ride.”
“Father is going to be a right pissed boar,” Dayna said with too much delight.
“Language.” I snapped at her. “If you do not clean up your mouth, how will a young man ever want to kiss it?”
“I will not change my ways just to suit a man. He can take me as I am—dirty mouth and all—or he can find a wench in a tavern willing to do his bidding for some change.”
I shook my head as I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And Father thinks I am the unruly one? Do not speak of such women. You have no idea the hardships they face or what has led them to such a life.”
Dayna’s shoulders drooped under my scolding. It was not my intention to upset her, but she needed to learn to be considerate of others before she unleashed that loose tongue of hers.
“You are right. I do not know such things,” she said and then perked up. “You are going to make a wise and compassionate queen, sister mine. I only wish it was of our kingdom and not that pig of a king’s kingdom.”
Thomas chuckled. “I still do not see why you both assume he is an ugly beast. Just because he is older doesn’t mean he isn’t fit, charming, and handsome.”
“Are you just saying that to bolster my spirits?” I asked him, raising one of my eyebrows, as if that small action would cause the truth to spring from his lips.
He stared back at me for several seconds and, for a moment, a thoughtful look passed over his features, but it was gone just as quickly. He nodded his head. “You’re right. He is most likely a disgusting creature with a personality to match.”
“Never mind. I liked it better when you lied to me.” I jested.
“No, you do not,” Thomas said, suddenly serious. “You like a person who is straightforward and does not attempt to placate you. Its one of the many things I will miss about you.”
I quickly turned my head away from him, feigning that something in the trees had caught my attention as I fought back tears. Why does doing the right thing hurt so badly? Just cinch up your petticoat and do what you need to do.
“Are we going to finish this ride?” Dayna asked, a distinct challenge lacing her words.
I turned to look at my youngest sister and narrowed my eyes. “King be damned! Not even the gods shall stop us.”
Dayna sucked in a breath with a huge grin plastered on her face. “Language, Allete.”
After giving my horse a quick squeeze and pat on the flank, the beast took off, bolting past my shocked sister and dumbfounded cousin. I refrained from looking back to see if they had recovered—I was too busy absorbing what little freedom I ha
d left. The wind whipped the hair that had escaped my braid and my eyes began to water as I pushed my horse faster. Perhaps with every step farther away from the castle she took, I felt my chances of outrunning my fate were growing. Somehow, I thought, every furlong galloped was leading me closer and closer to freedom.
Only later would I realize what a foolish thought that was. No matter how fast I ran, I could not escape my fate.
“I do not know what lies ahead of me. I do not know what the outcome of this battle shall be. All I can do is hope that we end up on the side of good.”
* * *
~ Torben
I stood, watching as each of the long ships came ashore and the warriors scurried like ants onto the land. The relief on their faces mirrored my own, but it would be short-lived. Magnus was already setting up a tent for his temporary dwelling, which meant he intended to do just as he’d said. We would stay in England a full month to spy on the king, looking for weaknesses in his court and placing our own men inside the castle by relieving the king’s guards of their duties, or more accurately, killing the king’s men to take their uniforms.
I wondered how long we could pull the charade off before someone found out and the tides turned. Magnus had many flaws, but one would be his downfall—Magnus believed his intelligence was superior to all others. He could not fathom his foe strategically besting him. I, however, was under no such illusion. There would be loss on both sides, and whether we would be successful was yet to be seen.
Brant walked over and stood next to me, his large arms folded across his chest. His eyes were filled with alert intensity. “Is this a mistake, Torben?”
I clenched my fists at my sides, and I felt as though the weight of the world had been lowered onto my shoulders. “No,” I began, “this is not just a mistake. This is the first of many.”
Suddenly, a loud horn was blown and all eyes were on our leader. Two more notes and all the warriors were headed for the spot where Magnus stood.
“Why is he blowing that damn horn?” Brant muttered under his breath as we began to walk toward the gathered men. “He is going to bring all of England down upon us.”
“He does not care if they know we’re here.” I explained. “He is daring them to make a move.” Brant started to say something but I held up a hand to stop him. “A few of his sympathizers are close by,” I said as a couple warriors positioned themselves close to us. Brant nodded and pressed his lips closed.
“Torben!” Magnus bellowed.
I pushed through the crowd until I was standing next to my jarl.
Magnus held up his hand to silence his army. “We will spend the better part of a month here.” He projected his voice to carry over the troops. “Torben will be choosing small contingents of men to go in and gain access to the palace as well as information.”
“What is the goal?” Halvard asked.
Jarl Magnus narrowed his eyes. “The goal is to show them how weak they are and that their weakness makes them unfit to live, but before we make any moves, I’m sending in a spy to assess the situation, and then we will go from there. Everyone begin setting up camp. Stay alert—we might have to defend the beach, and I will not lose before this has even begun.
My men and I didn’t bother setting up our own camp, considering we would be staying in the palace if things went as planned. Instead, we helped the others unload the ships and set up defensive stations with spiked blockades in case the English came in on horses. We checked with the archers and made sure the bows were in working order and that there were plenty of arrows. Several hours later, we hear a shout as Magnus’ spy came running over the hill and down to the beach. He was holding something in his hand, but was too far away to tell what it was.
I motioned for my men to follow and we headed for the jarl’s tent. When we arrived, it was already surrounded by most of the men.
“What have you found out?” Magnus asked the spy.
“The other king has indeed arrived, and he only brought a small contingency of guards, not an entire army. However, I wonder, my lord, if we might need to pick another kingdom to raid.”
“What are you talking about?” Magnus snapped.
“The people are poor. I overheard some villagers talking and they’ve been relentlessly raided by another Viking clan for months. They’ve practically cleaned King Albric out, which is why Albric has agreed to the marriage of his daughter to the king of Tara.”
“If they have no funds, they are weak, making easy to defeat,” Magnus said.
I frowned. Did he not just hear what the spy said? There were no riches to be had here. Why on earth would he still want to raid the English? His madness was becoming more and more apparent, and it was going to get us all killed. The spy continued to tell Magnus what he’d learned, but I’d heard enough. I moved quietly away from the group and headed back to where we’d left our things.
“It seems we have no reason to be here,” Rush spoke up as all six of my men joined me by our packs and weapons. I began gathering my weapons and went through my pack, throwing out anything I felt was unnecessary. The others followed suit.
“We are here for a reason,” I said. “Regardless of the jarl’s plans, we have our own. The Oracle has spoken, and I am here to fulfill her prophecy. But no one,” I paused, looking each of them in the eye, “no one is to know about it. This is a private mission. Understood?”
Each of them nodded their heads and gave their word to take the secret to their graves. I didn’t feel the need to elaborate on what the Oracle had told me, and nobody asked. I glanced back over toward Magnus’ tent and saw he was still occupied. “Wait here for me,” I told Brant. “I need to speak with my mother before we take our leave.”
I didn’t have to look long to find Hilda. She was bossing around some warriors who were setting up her tent. She looked to be in good health for being on a ship so long. She was strong, my mother, and it was a good thing, too.
“Are you just going to stand there watching or are you going to help?” She asked me without bothering to look at me.
I chuckled as I picked up a large trunk that probably held her clothes and possibly a few hidden weapons. “It didn’t appear as though you needed my help.”
“I raised better than to have you stand and watch others work,” she told me.
“Yes, Mother, you did. And see,” I motioned to the trunk in my arms, “I am proving you right.”
She pointed, telling me where to place the trunk, and once it was in its temporary home, she turned to the others. “Thank you for your assistance; I can take it from here.” She waited until the men had gone before speaking again. “Why are you still here? You need to be in the castle.”
“My closest men and I were just about to begin our trek, but I wanted to check in with you before we departed. Are you well?” I asked.
“Aside from being stuck on a boat with that crazy oaf of a jarl, I’m fine.”
“You’ve brought weapons with you?”
She clucked her tongue at me. “Do you take me for a fool or a child? Of course, I brought weapons. I will be fine, unless you fail to woo your princess—then none of us will be fine. Do not just snatch her up, Torben. She is meant to be yours; you only need to be available for her and fate will take over.”
She made it sound so easy, yet I knew it would not be that simple. There would be obstacles to overcome, like infiltrating the castle without getting caught.
“Deal with things one thing at a time, Torben. Once you get in the castle, you can forge ahead with a more laid-out plan. Don’t try to have it all figured out before you know what the situation is.”
“I will do what I must to ensure that our clan survives,” I told her. “You just make sure that idiot of a jarl we have doesn’t put you in any more harm than he already has by bringing you on his fool’s errand.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a while now. Now, off with you.” She pushed me in the direction from which
I’d come from. “And do not fail.”
“Thank you for your encouragement, Mother,” I said dryly.
“It’s not my job to encourage you, Son. It’s my job to kick you in your arse when you need it. Now go get my future daughter-in-law and keep her safe.”
I left, chuckling at my mother’s words. The woman had a wicked, sharp tongue, but I would do as she asked. I would somehow convince the princess to come with me. I would do whatever it took to save my clan. What I didn’t know, was that I would soon want to save her and her people, too.
“I never realized the curse of beauty. Undoubtedly, I’m not the fairest in all of Britannia, but I have caught the eyes of certain men, most of them powerful allies of my father. For the most part, I’ve avoided their advances. But after meeting my future husband, I would give anything to be as ugly as an old wrinkled hag.”
* * *
~Diary of Princess Allete Auvray
“At least he does not resemble the back-end of a boar,” Dayna whispered.
I shot my sister a quick nod of agreement then covertly turned to peer at my future husband, who was conversing with my father. After our morning ride, my sister and I had found a hiding spot behind some large drapes just to the left of the room now occupied by our guests. It afforded us the surreptitious ability to listen and watch the two kings interact. Thomas had taken his leave, but not before he informed me what he thought about our childish behavior. I did not care if I was being childish. I was not yet ready to meet King Cathal.
“He’s not ugly,” I murmured back, “but his handsomeness is marred by that tight-lipped frown. He looks cruel.”
I had been surprised to learn my future husband was not nearly as old as I thought he was. If I had to guess, I would put him at eight and thirty, or, at the very oldest, two and forty. His hair was dark and short, and he had deep green eyes, a hawkish nose, and thin lips that seemed frozen in a perpetual scowl. Standing at a little over six feet, King Cathal was lean but obviously muscular. Yes, he was handsome, but the cold, detached look in his eyes ruined any favor I might have felt for him.