Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  Earl Devenor scoffed, which sent a spray of saliva over the noble unfortunate enough to sit closest to him. “Nonsense! Bellion has captured a few dozen Goblins to work in the mines, but other than that, he’s just a criminal.”

  Other than that. As if the act of taking slaves alone wasn’t incriminating enough.

  “Your Majesty,” the Master of War began, “I didn’t get to finish my report.”

  Morgana nodded at him. “Go on.”

  “Auberon has visited every town and village in Mynydd Dewin, and given speeches in the squares. His message has been simple but effective. Every Dewinian is a soldier in his army. Any Dewinian of any age. They had the choice of either fighting for their freedom—Auberon’s words, I must stress—or die at the hand of the false queen’s soldiers.”

  This time, the mumbling around the table was much louder, the participants of the queen’s meeting shocked at the Goblin’s words. Meanwhile, Nefari stood from her seat, nudged Morgana on the arm, then gracefully slid to the floor and disappeared under the table.

  Even I was taken aback. Did my father actually recruit common citizens to his army? And of all ages? Surely he didn’t expect children to fight.

  “Enough!” Morgana slammed her fist on the table. Her cup toppled over and the wine spilled out. A crimson pool spread on the white cloth. The queen stared at it for a few breaths. “There are less than a hundred thousand living on Avalon and the neighbouring isles,” she said. Her voice was low and calm, but still carried through the room. “I will not ask the untrained to run to their certain deaths just to match Auberon’s tally.”

  “Your Majesty,” Lord Cramaine began. “I’m sure the—”

  “Not now!”

  The reeve quickly sat down.

  “Nor do I wish to see my soldiers pierce the hearts of farmers and fishermen or behead tailors and merchants in the fields.” Morgana raised her head and her gaze moved over the men and women at the table. When her eyes met mine, she shook her head slowly. “And not for a second will I let a single one of my archers aim their arrows at innocent children just because they happen to have been born north of the Glaswelt Sea.” She breathed deeply once, then again. And a third time. “I have made my decision. I will send an invitation to King Auberon, outlining the terms for a peace talk.”

  This time, there was no mumbling. Half the representatives were on their feet, and shouts of “madness” and “treason” could be heard in the clamouring. Morgana had clearly expected their reactions and stood quietly for a long while. Eventually, she held her arms up. It took another minute before the room quieted enough for her to speak.

  “I have shown you patience, trusted friends, and I have listened to all your concerns during these past days. You are my chosen reeves, my learned primes, my allied nobles, and highly regarded Masters and Keepers. Without your advice and council, my rule of Avalon would suffer severely.” She leaned forward, fists on the table. “But make no mistake. I am your queen, and my decision is your command. Should you think otherwise, now is the time to rise and leave the room. If you do, I shall respect your choice.”

  No one moved.

  “Stand now and walk past my guards by the door. Keep walking until you have left my castle. Stop not before you are home in your town, village, or hamlet. Take what you can carry in your arms and leave my queendom. No one will touch you on your journey out of Avalon, but you will never be allowed to return.”

  Lord Cramaine rose from his chair. Not a single soul made a sound, not even a muffled gasp.

  “My Queen. I think your decision is a mistake.”

  “Very well, Lord Cram—”

  “But you are my queen, and I have pledged my loyalty to you. In my oath, I said the ancient words of allegiance.” He straightened his back. “Until my last drop of blood. Until my last gasp of air. Until my last gaze upon fair Avalon.” His voice was even more booming than before. The reeve picked up his silver cup and held it high. “For My Queen!”

  Chairs toppled to the floor as the other representatives hurried to their feet, holding their cups high. “For My Queen!” they repeated in unison.

  Brendan and I also stood. We shared a look and started chanting along with the others.

  “For My Queen! For My Queen!”

  Finally, Lord Cramaine turned his cup upside down, spilling his wine on the table. The blood-red splashes mixed with the wine from the lord next to him, and within seconds, the white cloth was soaked.

  With an impressively synchronised move, all the nobles, primes and other representatives slammed their cups on the table. The clanks echoed off the stone walls.

  “Gently,” Brendan whispered, and placed his cup on the table without a sound.

  I mimicked his move. It would make no sense for the two of us to make the slamming gesture now.

  “Thank you, Lord Cramaine. Your loyalty moves me. And thank you to all the rest as well. I would slam my cup, but somehow I seem to have spilt my wine already.”

  Laughter spread around the table.

  Leave it to me to kill the mood, I thought.

  And rose.

  “My Queen,” I said, begging my wobbly feet to keep me upright. “If I may?”

  She gave a quick movement of her head, one I interpreted as some sort of approval.

  “I think it’s time your council learned the truth about me.”

  I expected her to protest and had prepared my argument when she did.

  “I agree,” she said. “It is only a mat—"

  “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I must insist—wait, what did you say?”

  She smiled. “I said I agree with you, Princess. To use a term I have learned from Lady Carolina: Is that OK?”

  “I—you—” I cleared my throat. “It is very OK, Your Majesty. Please, carry on.” I sat down and tried to avoid the confused looks on the representatives closest to me. Not that it mattered, as they would soon be even more confused. Or outraged.

  “The princess is right. King Auberon possesses a vital piece of information that I suspect he will use to create unrest among us. It has never been my intention to keep this from you or the people of Avalon, but I admit I have been reluctant to share it too soon. Now is the time.”

  She stood behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders.

  “This is my heiress, Princess Ruby of Avalon. In her blood lies the unfathomable combination of both Fae and Sorceress. She is a Morgana from the fiery strands of her hair to the tips of her toes. And she is a Merlin.”

  If there was ever a time for outrage, shouting, and chaos, this was it. But no one said a word. I stared down at the small plate in front of me, where a single, untouched piece of bread had resided ever since the meeting started. I thanked my unruly stomach for telling me not to eat any of it yet. If there had been anything in there, it would have come back up. I dared a look behind me.

  Morgana gave me an unapologetic glance. “In the Land of Eternal Sand, under the guise of a false name and identity, King Auberon put his seed in the belly of a Fae, my descendant, who shared the name of my daughter, Lady Elaine of Morgana. When Elaine learned the truth about the imposter, she turned her back on him for good. Ruby Guinevere of Morgana was born, and as you all know, her blood did not choose one Magical side over the other. Instead, she holds the powers of the Morgana and Merlin bloodlines both. Equally.”

  “I can see why Auberon would deem this a valuable piece of information.” Pullhelli didn’t stand from his chair, but gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher. Concern maybe? “He would rightly assume this to be … shall we say, controversial. Might I ask the queen why this has been kept from even her closest confidants until after we all signed the decree yesterday? It would appear our princess has a claim to more than one throne.”

  The mumbling started up again, and people were nodding their heads at Pullhelli’s words.

  “I have seen what Auberon—” I chewed on the words for a couple of seconds before starting over. “I have seen what my bir
th father is capable of. In the Land of Eternal Sand, he built an empire based on the exploitation of Magicals. By extracting their blood, he was able to supply magical powers to Don Hekals.”

  “Sacrilege!” one of the nobles spat. I couldn’t recall her name.

  “I agree, milady.”

  “You misunderstand me, Princess. It is your words that are sacrilege. There is no way to give Don Hekals magic. It is in their name, Don Hekals. Those not of Heka.”

  More nodding and a few “hear, hear” resounded in the room.

  “Science in my world has advanced greatly over the centuries, and I have seen the effects of what the erudites on the other side of the portal can do with the blood of a Magical.” I looked around to find lorekeeper Virgil. “Lord Virgil. You have heard Lady Carolina talk about it, haven’t you?”

  The old man seemed bothered by the attention, which I attributed to a long and lonely life among the millions of scrolls and books in his library. But he nodded slowly. “I have, Your Highness. And although I have not seen this blood magic of which you speak, I have seen proof of your erudites’ discoveries. As I am aware of the Sorcerer King’s hunger for knowledge, I see no reason to doubt your words.”

  “Thank you, Lorekeeper,” I said, wanting to build on his approval as quickly as possible. “Auberon’s deeds in my world left thousands of Magicals dead or severely injured. Don Hekals served him and were rewarded with vast fortunes. All earned on the suffering of Magicals and other Don Hekals.” I took a deep breath. “All that aside, I am his daughter, and he cares for me. I do not know if he will listen, but I’m your best bet.”

  All eyes were on me, but I couldn’t tell if they were leaning towards believing me. There was only one thing left to say, hoping it would be enough.

  “The Sorcerer king is my father by blood, but a Don Hekal raised me from the day I left my mother’s womb. His name was Dennis, and I have always counted him as my real da.” My voice threatened to give up. “Auberon had Dennis killed, and was directly responsible for the death of my ma, Elaine of Morgana.”

  Brendan took my hand, and Queen Morgana tightened her grip on my shoulders.

  “Auberon’s blood might run in my veins, but I have long since renounced any claim to his kingdom. My loyalty lies with Queen Morgana, and if she will allow me—” I turned and stepped behind my chair, facing my ancestor. I dropped to one knee and lowered my head. “I pledge my loyalty to you, Queen Morgana of Avalon. Until my last drop of blood. Until my last gasp of air. Until my last gaze upon fair Avalon.”

  For an eternity of probably not more than five seconds, nothing happened. Then Pullhelli’s gentle voice filled the room.

  “For My Princess!”

  Chapter Eight

  People were already taking down their tents, even though the festivities were supposed to last until the next morning. Our meetings had finally come to an end as well, and not a moment too soon. At least we had made some sort of a plan, and though there were a few disgruntled faces, everyone had come to an agreement in the end. I inhaled a breath of fresh air, thankful for the reprieve.

  As I sauntered across the upper bailey, I waved at the merchants packing their wares. I had enjoyed the distraction, lords and reeves and war-talk aside. And it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The truth was out, and it wasn’t as bad as I had envisioned. In fact, there was a surprising amount of the representatives who seemed more approving of me after knowing I had Merlin blood in my veins. I wasn’t sure if that was entirely a good thing, but I decided to enjoy it.

  Taryn had already sent two of his men to Mynydd Dewin with Morgana’s offer of a peace talk, so all we had to do now was wait for my father’s response. Not that anyone was going to sit on their hands while we waited. Auberon would likely refuse, and even if he did agree to it, I knew my father. He wanted this war, had waited for it for fifteen hundred years while scheming in his prison of shadows. Unless Morgana could find something he desired more than her throne, the war would eventually come. Still, she had to try. If there was even a sliver of hope that my great great-something grandmother and my power-hungry father could find some common ground and reconcile, then we had to take that chance.

  In the meantime, the smiths would continue to forge weapons, and Morgana’s forces would continue to gather, building a defence for what was to come. The numbers, however, were not in her favour. My father had a crushing force of allies. While most of them were untrained, there was indeed strength in numbers. My stomach knotted at the thought. In a few months from now, there was a good chance that my father would sit on Morgana’s throne. I had seen it in a vision, and though I knew from experience that it was possible to change the course of events, more often than not my Truesight was on point. Vision or not, I couldn’t allow this to come to pass.

  I walked underneath an archway to the distant sound of a flute, entering the spot where I had watched Brendan’s swordplay only three days earlier. The stands, booths, and equipment were all gone, and a few people were sweeping the grounds and lighting new lanterns. A Goblin woman was throwing seeds from a pouch in her belt into the empty flower beds by the walls. It didn’t look like anything had grown there for a while.

  I sighed and carried on aimlessly through the next archway, following the music. The square I entered was alive. A young man was playing something that looked like a pan flute while some couples danced in the square. A few fire pits had been lit at various corners of the area, the flames licking into the dark night.

  I waved at Sanctor, who stood among the other primes by a couple of wine barrels. The Goblin inclined his head at me, then resumed his conversation with Miranar. The wolf prime guffawed, slapping Sanctor on the back, then handed Sanctor a glass, lowering his own to clink it with his. I still didn’t know what to make of the primes. They were all different, yet they did have some commonalities. Their slightly skewed sense of justice for one. Miranar shifted his gaze around, then downed his drink. When his eyes fell on me, he quickly looked away.

  “You did well today,” Morgana said in my ear.

  I jumped at the sound of her voice. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

  She smirked. “I rarely get the opportunity these days, but no one is going to have a fanfare for my arrival tonight. I intend to have fun.”

  I nodded at Taryn, as always by his queen’s side, who grimaced at Morgana’s words, but said nothing. “Sounds like … fun.”

  She clasped my hand and strode forward, tugging me along. “You have their allegiance, Ruby. That alone is cause for a celebration.” Stopping, she looked into my eyes, her eyebrows quirking up when a mischievous grin spread out on her face. “Won’t you dance with me?”

  I barely had time to blink before her arms reached around my waist, dragging me further into the crowd of dancers. The people parted to give room for us, and a few gasped when they recognised their queen.

  “I’ll lead,” Morgana said.

  “I kind of thought you already were,” I replied, my feet shuffling over one another as she spun me around. We floated across the ground, her wings holding her—and partly me—suspended while we danced. It was the strangest of feelings, almost as if I were flying through the moves myself. We twirled and swayed. And we laughed. Dust swirled around our feet, and the flickers of flames passed by my vision. My hair came undone from Cherise’s meticulously arranged creation, and the red strands bounced around my face. Morgana’s green dress billowed in the whips of wind, and when she locked eyes with me, with a smile like she had caught the rays of a thousand suns, I almost broke into tears. She had never reminded me of my mum as much as at that moment. The stern features in the queen’s face were more relaxed than I had ever seen before, and it made her look younger—vibrant.

  I had lost so much. My mum, my dad, my grandmother, and in part my father and grandfather, too. The latter two were alive, but I had still lost the persons I once believed them to be. But now I had her. Morgana. The Queen of Avalon, and my anc
estor. My kin. And she loved me. I didn’t doubt that for a second, and looking at her like this, I realised I had come to love her too. While no one could replace Mum in my heart, it felt amazing to know that I still had room for someone else. I would never fully heal, and I would always miss Mum, but my heart had finally started to mend. And I owed it all to the dancing queen currently spinning me around. My internal music box conjured up the notes from one of Abba’s most famous songs, making me giggle.

  “I’m going to throw you now,” Morgana said, pulling me back to the present.

  “Huh?”

  She extended her arm, swinging me outward, then back. Her hands folded on my hips. And then she threw me straight up into the air. I squealed as the air rushed by, brushing against my skin, then shrieked as I began my descent.

  Morgana caught me mid-air, and we spun in a slow circle back down. My feet touched the ground, and I shook my head, doubling over with laughter. It trickled out of me in bursts of pure joy, and I laughed so hard I had to clutch my stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun.

  Morgana’s smile abruptly turned into a frown when something whizzed by in my peripheral vision. An arrow closed in on me. I raised my hand when another arrow cut through the first, changing its trajectory, missing me by inches. I crouched, my eyes scanning the area. Morgana mimicked my motions. People had stopped dancing. A few fled the square, while others were advancing on us. The primes had all drawn their swords, and a fight broke out around us.

  What the fudge?

  I glanced up at the nearest watchtower and caught a glimpse of a familiar figure as he stepped into the shadows. Rowan. Had he saved me or tried to kill me?

  “Morgana—!”

  “Force field! Now!” she ordered.

  In seconds, a force field encased us both, and we turned back-to-back, alert and ready for an attack.

  Taryn was on the ground a few feet away, spasming and retching. Another Crimson eagle towered over him with a strange-looking spear.