"That is why I did not ask," Parlan added with a shrug and a wry smile. That wry cruel smile destroyed all his good looks. "And a king should not need to ask."
"A king?!," she threw her head back and laughed bitterly. "You are many things, cousin," she emphasized the word cousin with spite, "But you are no king. A pretender, liar, and murderer, yes but a king? No, that you are not. You are no king, nor shall you ever be.
"Princess Leina," Parlan smiled. He nudged the thin silver crown that encircled his head.
"What is this, then?"
Again, Leina laughed. "King Jerran gives a toy crown to all his puppets. Do you think a trinket can make you a king?"
"High King Jerran," corrected Parlan. "And yes, it does. I am after-all the closest living male of the royal family, and you are still but a minor. High King Jerran has acknowledged my rights, as I have acknowledged his rights as High King of Kambrya."
"It takes more than a crown to make a king. You are my cousin from my mother’s side of the family. You have no rights to the throne. You do not carry any of the Gruffydd blood. You are a shame on my mother's good name, may she rest in peace; though with a nephew such as you, I cannot see how she can."
"It is true. I do not have any of your so-called ‘kingly blood’!" Parlan consented angrily, "You Gruffydds have always looked down upon me, parading around, acting as if I was nothing more than a servant. Did you think I did not see you laughing at me?! But you're not laughing anymore. Are you? I played you for fools, but now I am done playing. And once you are my wife, no one will question my rights to the crown. And our son will have the Gruffydd blood."
"Never!" Leina cried, "Never shall I marry the likes of you! Never will I have your son! I would rather die!"
Parlan smiled. "Now, cousin, is that any way to treat your Lord and future husband?"
"I will not marry you!"
"You have no choice in the matter," Parlan replied smugly. "At the week's end, we shall be wed. The arrangements have been made. It will be a small ceremony." His smile grew. After years of cowing down to the pompous royal family, he was finally going to have his revenge, and he was going to savor every moment. "I would not like it if you made a public scene. People might think you are not a happy bride."
"You would force me…" Leina asked with a look of horror, and disbelief, "to marry you before the three gods, knowing how I feel? Have you no shame?!"
Parlan replied with a deep chuckle, "None, princess. Shame only stands in a man's way. If I had any shame, I would not be King now. I have grand plans and for now, you are a part of those plans."
"Let me go!" pleaded Leina. "You have your kingdom. Why do you need me?"
"Because of who you are. If I am to keep my hard-earned kingdom, I will need to legitimize my rule. You are the daughter of our beloved King Artair so we will become man and wife. You are too dangerous to be left single, and far too dangerous to be set free. There are those who would use you against me. Your name could inspire the people to take up arms. Some nobles of the realm would gladly jump at the chance to oppose me. You could give them the reason they are looking for. We . . . I cannot allow that." He then crossed his arms across his chest as if in deep thought. "One the other hand, if you cooperate and once my Throne is secure, you may be sent off to a nunnery where the illusion of some freedom can be yours." It was a lie. However, if it bought the princesses cooperation, he would let her believe it. The truth was that once he had married her and she had given him a son, she would no longer be needed and would be more of a liability than an asset. He was also growing tired of the little tramp, so once he had his son Leina would have to have a tragic accident.
"Do you think anyone would believe that I would freely marry a man who butchered innocent nuns, kidnapped me, and murdered my father? How could I do anything but despise you?"
"I have told you, I had nothing to do with it. The Elves attacked the abbey. If you remember, I was the one who saved you from them."
"Lies! I was there, and I saw no Elves, but I did see you and Strigiol soldiers. Together you attacked the abbey. I saw you cut down women in cold blood. I saw you burn the abbey to the ground, and I saw you plant elvish arrows to cast the blame on them. Then you used me to get at my father. You made him think you had rescued me, knowing he would come.
When he did, you killed him! You used me to kill my father! I hate you!"
Parlan shook his head. She had seen more than Parlan had realized. At least in her anger, she has told me what I must do. It would not be a pleasant act. Even for him, killing a woman in cold blood was deeply disturbing, yet Parlan had come too far to let morals get in his way. "Oh, Leina, I am sorry you saw as much as you did," he said as if he almost meant it. "If you had seen less and accepted more, you would not be a prisoner here. I think we could have lived happily together."
Leina's large dark eyes could melt a heart, but now they were as cold as ice. She bit her tongue. Silently, she promised herself that one day she would kill this man. Yes, someday she would see him dead at her feet.
Parlan walked over to the window to stand close to her. She shivered, fearing what he might do. But he was no longer looking at her, and his mood suddenly changed.
Parlan leaned against the windowsill. Staring out into the night, he watched the strange fires in the mountains. The lights had been haunting him ever since he had marched into the city of Acair. In the city's large cathedral, High King Jerran had crowned Parlan the King of Ceredigion. That same night the lights appeared. Leaving part of his army behind, King Jerran had returned to Strigiol, but the fires remained. Rumors throughout the city claimed that the fires were the spirits of the dead and that the spirit's leader was none other than the late King Artair himself, who had returned to take his revenge upon Parlan. Parlan put no value in omens. Omens were only the talk of superstitious fools. But even fools could lead the city into rebellion. Parlan ruled all of Ceredigion, but only through fear of the Strigiol soldiers and the priests and priestess of the Severed Head. There had already been several disturbances, sabotage and one outright uprising that had only been put down in a bloodbath. The people now trembled at the sight of the soldiers and the black robed servants of the Severed Head. Parlan did not care if the people loved him or not. Yet he also hated the idea of having to live under Strigiol authority. He hated bowing to King Jerran, and he hated knowing it was Jerran and not him who truly ruled Ceredigion. For now, I need Jerran and the Severed Head. But only for now. Then the people will tremble at the sight of me.
Thinking of that, he smiled to himself.
The first step is to put an end to the question of my legitimacy. As long as I am seen as a usurper and a tyrant, I will never put a stop to the rumors or free myself from Jerran. The Princess was Parlan's answer. With Leina, he would bring an end to the noble's talk of uprisings. Once married to Leina, he would be the legitimate king of Ceredigion. All he had to do was get rid of Elwin, and that was already in the works. But those lights haunted his dreams. He wanted those damn fires put out. Parlan had offered a substantial reward for the man who put the fires out, but none had succeeded. Many had tried and most had fallen to their deaths, the others simple given up. Every night the fires burned on and every night Parlan dreamed of the fires. In his dreams, the fires would rise out of the earth and transform themselves into pale white faced, demon like ghosts. The ghosts would then come down out of the mountains. Thousands of them. The mountain ghosts would race forward, each one searching for him. The city's defenses were useless against the army of ghosts. Running for his life, Parlan fled the city. Mounted upon his swiftest horse, Parlan then raced across the grassy hills of Ceredigion. He ran and ran until he was finally free of the ghosts. Then suddenly he would come upon a silver griffin. Without warning, the silvery beast would leap at him, tearing him from his horse, ripping at him with great talons and razor-sharp teeth. Parlan would then scream himself awake.
Turning from the window, Parlan tried to forget the images of his dreams. He
would not let a few nightmares stand in his way. Coldly, he gazed down at the princess. "Your opinion of me does not matter, my lady. I will not have a civil war. We will marry, and you will legitimize my rule. Once I am the unquestionable ruler and King of Ceredigion, the nobles will fall into line. They will have no choice."
"You have forgotten Elwin," Leina retorted. "He is still the prince and one day he will be crowned king, he is the rightful heir of Ceredigion. He will return, and you will still have your war, and the people will rise up against you. When that day comes, I will happily watch them trample you under their feet, and all of Ceredigion will cheer as one."
Parlan smiled. He reached down to touch Leina's face. The princess jerked her head away. "Do not touch me!"
Parlan's smile vanished. "I had hoped to spare you this, but Elwin will not be returning." If Parlan could not have the princess' love, he would have her hate. "We know where Elwin is. He has run off like a coward to a small isolated county in Cluain. When the snows melt, King Jerran will send a ship. Prince Elwin has run out of time. He is as good as captured. The prince has fled his country, making himself a traitor to this land and to the High King. There can only be one sentence for traitors, death!"
"No! You Lie!"
"I fear not, my lady."
Leina began to shake. "Do not do this, Parlan. If there is any kindness in you at all, then please, I beg you, leave Elwin alone. You have taken everything from me. Do not take my brother as well."
"I cannot stop it, my lady. It is the High King's command, not mine."
Like a horse whose spirit had been broken, Leina dropped her head, "Okay, I will marry you, but do not kill my brother. Please, Parlan, do not take my brother from me!"
"Princess, while it would please me to have your consent, you are going to marry me. You can accept that or not, but it will not matter in the end. As for your brother, I have no choice. He cannot be saved. My cousin is a threat to my crown and must be removed. And as I said, it is the High King's decision, not mine. I cannot nor wish to ask the High King to spare him. The High King has made all this possible." Parlan spread his arms wide, indicating his rule over Ceredigion. "The King and his armies have given me the power to take this country, and you will give me the authority to keep it. I will not be stopped now."
"You monster!!" screamed Leina. She clawed at his eyes, but he was too fast and too strong. Effortlessly, Parlan grabbed her wrists and tried to pull her close. Leina fought him. Kicking and scratching, she tried to pull free. Parlan scowled. Then he tossed her down onto her bed. "Poor child," he spat. "You are throwing everything away." With wild, angry eyes, Parlan looked down at her. Leina trembled, fearing that Parlan would force himself upon her.
"If you continue to resist my lovely princess, you, like your father, may have an unfortunate accident." He hesitated then added, "Once we are married, of course."
With that thin, cruel smile of his, Parlan's eyes glided over Leina's trembling body. His dark eyes were filled with a mixture of lust and hatred. "Think about it, my lady." Then he turned and left the room. The door slammed shut behind him with a loud thud, and the iron bar slid back into place that kept Leina a prisoner in her own rooms.
She buried her face deep into her pillow and cried. "Oh, Elwin, be careful," she murmured between her tears. "If only I could warn you." She then cried herself to sleep, but she was not to sleep through the night.
Morning came early, or so Leina thought at first. A bright white light filled the room. Tired as she was, she opened her bloodshot eyes. She thought she could smell flowers. At the foot of the bed was a tall, slender woman dressed all in white. To Leina's surprise, the light was not coming from the morning sun, but from the woman in white. Outside, darkness still surrounded the castle. Slowly, the light around the woman faded, but the woman remained. She smiled, and the room seemed to grow warmer, as she gracefully crossed the room as if she walked on air. "Greetings, Leina ap Gruffydd, Princess of Ceredigion."
Leina sat up. "Who are you?" Now wide-eyed and awake, Leina stared at the women. For some reason, Leina did not fear the mysterious women in white. "And how did you get in here? Are you an angel?"
"I am called Sileas." She smiled. Her eyes shone with an inner kindness. "And I am not an angel, but a Guardian of the Light. I have come to take you from this place of darkness. I have come to take you home."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Elwin sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. Outside the abbey's walls, the wind whistled and howled as a new storm came over the mountains, bringing with it more snow to the already snow-covered county. Winter was refusing to give way to Spring. Elwin rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He knew that he needed to sleep, but he could not stop thinking about his father. In his lap, he held a closed book. The book was a black bound chronicle of Brother Wallis' life. He thought that reading about the saint's life might help his grieving, but it had not worked. He just couldn't concentrate on the words. He scanned the fresco upon the wall that portrayed the image of Saint Wallis. Silently, he prayed to the saint. He prayed for his father, his sister, and himself. He prayed for the pain to end and to be given a chance to avenge his father. It had been a horrendous day. Elwin could not imagine a worse one. He had awoken that morning to find that he was hiding in a monastery. Somewhere in the county, an evil servant of darkness called a Nightling wanted to kill him. He had also learned that his cousin, Parlan, had murdered his father. Parlan had then usurped the kingdom of Ceredigion and kidnapped Elwin's sister. Parlan then compounded his crimes by trying to force Leina into marrying him. Elwin sighed. It had been a very long day, a very long day indeed, and one Elwin would never forget.
At least there was some good news. Leina had not married Parlan. The princess had escaped, but when Colin and Aidan had left with Faynn, there was still no word about the princess, whereabouts. No one seemed to know where she had escaped to; She seemed to have just vanished from within a locked room. With little success, Parlan had tried to keep the princess' escape a secret. He even went so far as to go ahead with his marriage plans even though there was no bride. On the phony wedding day, there had been a great celebration with music and feasting which was followed by a private ceremony. A week after the fictitious wedding day, Parlan announced that Leina, his queen, had taken ill and could not leave her bed. Most knew the usurper was lying. At first, it was feared that Parlan had murdered Leina, but soon it leaked out that the princess had gone missing days before her supposed wedding day. Though Parlan was known to be a fake and a liar who had stolen the crown, there was little anyone could do about it. With both Leina and Elwin missing, there was no apparent legitimate successor to claim the throne, and Parlan had the help and support of Strigiol and the Severed Head.
"Where are you, Leina?" Elwin asked in the silence of his room. There was no answer other than the moaning wind.
Exhausted from the traumatic day and needing to get some sleep, Elwin laid back into the bunk. "Goodbye, father," he whispered. The reality that he would never see his father again hurt. The man who had always been there was gone. Despite feeling that he had no more tears left, Elwin began crying once more.
Wondering if the pain would ever go away, tears ran down his face. Elwin clutched the black book to his chest and found some comfort in that. Holding the book in his arms, he felt himself relax. The book felt strangely warm against his chest. He never knew the reason, but holding that book helped him forget, at least for that one night. Temporarily escaping the pain and loss, Elwin closed his tired eyes and slipped into a peaceful sleep.
--
"Sire," called out Ruan Deuchar, Baron of Keloran. The Baron nervously gazed across the hall as he entered the throne room of King Jerran.
Ruan was a handsome man in his mid-thirties. Tall, dark, and with a will trimmed black beard and intense eyes to match, he was the image of the dashing Lord. With long strides, he walked down the center of the throne room. King Jerran was nowhere to be seen. The room was extravagantly decorated; architectural detai
ls were lined in silver and gold. Large doors made of glass ran across both the southern, northern, and eastern walls, creating the sense one was standing inside a jewelry box. The glass doors were very tall, and they opened out onto a long narrow balcony that wrapped around the tower throne room. It was said that on a clear day, one could stand in the room's center and look out across Gildas Island, gazing from one shoreline to the other. However, that was no longer possible. In the last few years, curtains had been hung over the windows making the hall dark where it had once been bathed in sunlight. At the far west end of the room sat the famed black iron throne of Strigiol. The massive chair was fashioned in the shape of a great black eagle. Trimmed in gold, the eagle's wings wrapped around the seat. The bird's proud head with its silver beak perfectly hovered over the seat. Its jeweled eyes were fashioned so that the eagle would appear to be staring protectively over the king's head and down at his audience. However, at the moment the king was not seated on the throne. Standing there in the dark shadows of the throne room, Ruan felt as if the black bird was watching him from the empty throne. Its jeweled eyes reflected what little light there was in the room, and at times they almost appeared to blink. In the dark hall, the stunning eagle had been transformed into a creature of the night.
"Sire?..." there was still no answer. "King Jerran?" the Baron called out again, trying to not to look at the black bird. Ruan had been informed that the King would be here and that he would be alone. Ruan did not think the young page would lie to him, but then again there did seem to be a conspiracy to keep him from seeing the king. Torcull, the king's adviser, and confidant did not like Jerran's friendship with Lord Ruan, and the adviser made every attempt to keep them apart.
Ruan shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Running a hand through his dark beard, he began to worry. He knew coming here was a risk. But he had to try. I will just have to be careful. The king needs to know the truth. But if I speak too openly, my life could be forfeited. It was rare these days that Torcull was not at the king's side. Hoping to find the king alone, Ruan hesitated to leave. This was an opportunity that he could not let slip by. Ruan did not fear the king. He and Jerran went too far back. Like their fathers before them, they were close friends, or at least had been once. No, Jerran himself was not a threat. It was Torcull that Ruan feared. If one wrong word got back to the Prophet, Ruan would simply disappear. Others had tried to talk reason to the king, and they had vanished without a trace.
Earth Magic: A Kingdoms of Kambrya novel (The High King of Kambrya Book 1) Page 9