Ruby Morgan Box Set: Books 6-10

by LJ Rivers

  “If you’re done gawking,” Jen said, “it looks as though we’re just in time for supper.”

  “What, you’re not full after that hare you feasted on?”

  “Nah, Jack stole half of it.”

  “Speaking of whom,” I said. “He and Erica stayed outside the wall?”

  “Yeah. This gatekeeper fellow insisted on all Changelings staying by the river, but I batted my eyes and made him agree to allow one representative inside.” She put her feet up on an empty seat. “But could we maybe talk and eat, you think?”

  I opened my arms to the long table. “Sure, luv. Trys-Tain’s servants, if that’s the right term for them, have set up quite a feast. Have a seat, everyone.” I went to the far end of the table and pulled out a chair. “Please, Lord Pullhelli.”

  He tilted his head. “I would assume that to be your spot, Highness.”

  “I want to sit next to my intended tonight. Come, let me get you something to drink. I think there’s ale, wine, and a couple of fruit juices. Plus water, of course.”

  “It’s strange to have you serve me, but if you insist.” Sitting down, he gazed at the heavily stocked table. “Could I bother you for some barley ale, perhaps?”

  “I’ll get it,” Brendan said and went around the table. He returned with a brass pitcher in each hand. “This one is dark brown, smells like cinnamon and honey.” He held the other one out for Pullhelli to get a whiff. “Can’t really tell what’s in this one.”

  The Sorcerer leaned forward and almost dipped his nose in the light golden liquid. “Oh, this brings back memories,” he said and closed his eyes. “Mabinogion.”

  “The Tale of a Hero’s Boyhood?” Rowan blurted. “Is it really?”

  Charlie, who had taken a seat between Rowan and Jen, wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”

  Pullhelli opened his eyes. “This, child, is the rarest of ales. A harmony of taste, scent, temperature, and viscosity that only a select few can brew.” His brows rose as he looked at me. “This, Highness, is a sign of honour, believe me.”

  “I had better taste it then,” I said. “B?”

  Brendan filled the cup in front of me and did the same for Pullhelli and himself. Taryn, Galahad, and Alun were already deep in conversation at the other end of the table, stuffing their mouths with meat and vegetables, washing each mouthful down with seemingly no attention to what was in their cups.

  I gasped.

  “What?” Brendan asked.

  “Uhm, nothing,” I lied. Traces of a thought had flashed by. I tried to shape it, grasping at the slivers in my brain, and thought I could see the outline of an enormous white horse.

  I reached for my cup, still focused on reclaiming whatever it was that echoed in my head, but it vanished the instant I poured the ale into my mouth. My eyes widened, and I had to hold a hand in front to keep it from spilling.

  “It seems our queen has discovered the secrets of Mabinogion,” Pullhelli said with a laugh. “My advice is to let it stay on your tongue for a while.”

  He reminded me of a posh student at the Old Willow, our regular pub back on the uni campus. Ethan, I think his name was. He had held a whole lecture to his friends at the neighbouring table, talking about the wine he had just ordered. The image of Ethan and his ‘hints of leather and plum and liquorice’ vanished as the sweet and savoury components of the Mabinogion ale manifested in my mouth cavity.

  I stared at Pullhelli, then at Rowan, both of whom smiled and nodded approvingly, as if I were being initiated into a secret society. And perhaps that was exactly what it was.

  Finally, after a symphony of flavours had played out, I let the ale slide down my throat. “What in the Lady’s name was that?” I shook my head in amazement and utter disbelief.

  “That depends,” Rowan said. “What did you feel?”

  “Feel?” Grimacing, I turned the cup in my hand. “You mean, what did I taste?” But somehow, it dawned on me what he meant. As the sensation spread in my body, I smiled. “Oh!”

  He clicked his tongue and winked. “There it is!”

  “What is it, Ru?” Brendan asked.

  I shook my head again, slowly, not sure what to reply. “I really don’t know.” I gazed at Pullhelli. “My lord?”

  “The scents and flavours will be different for you than for me, and for your brother. Everyone will have their own experience, snippets of the tales of the young hero.”

  “Which hero?” A breeze brushed across my face, carrying scents of blueberries and reindeer. How I was able to recognise the latter was beyond me, but I had no doubt about what it was.

  “Hang on a minute!” Charlie exclaimed. “Jen, shh!” She had apparently been deep in some discussion with Jen and Cynthia. Now, she was halfway out of her chair. “Did you say the Mabinogion?”

  “I did,” Pullhelli replied. “Why? Does the name have meaning to you?”

  “It sure as fudge does!” She pushed her glasses up on her nose.

  Chiming bells filled my head. Wedding bells?

  “It’s only the most amazing book ever,” Charlie continued. “I must have read it a hundred times when I was little. It has all these captivating stories of maidens, knights, white horses, and—”

  “—weddings,” I said.

  “Lots of them! And the book has been the inspiration for so many other stories.” She turned to Galahad. “Even stories about you, sir!” Charlie was practically jumping now. “This is the most immaculate knitted foot garments!”

  As the sweet taste of honey flowed over my tongue, an image of a young boy appeared in my mind’s eye, along with a word. “Pryderi?”

  “Yes!” Charlie shouted and clapped her hands. “Oh, I used to imagine I was his queen. Four of the stories tell the tales of—” Holding her hands to her face, she stopped, her eyes brimming with tears. “I can’t believe this. It’s the tale of a hero’s boyhood—Pryderi’s boyhood.”

  Across from her, Pullhelli wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ancient tales that have been told through generations of Goblins. I can’t say I have ever heard of this book you mention, but I reckon it’s possible that some of the Goblins that went through the portal might have written them down on the other side.”

  The historian within Charlie must have been dancing with joy, and I felt my heart warm for my little sister-in-law, as I had started to call her lately.

  “Might I ask, young lady,” said Galahad at the other end of the table, “if I am portrayed favourably in those tales you have heard about me?”

  Charlie regained her composure and wiped her eyes. “Sir Galahad, I’m proud to say you are one of the main heroes in the tales of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.”

  The knight rocked with laughter. “Oh, are they still going on about that table?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Charlie sat down. “There was never an actual round table, isn’t that right, Sir Galahad?”

  “There was hardly a table, even,” replied the knight. “Camelot was an ancient castle, built by the Romans in what they called Deva Victrix.”

  “Chester,” Charlie said.

  “That’s right. We used to gather all the knights in the large amphitheatre from time to time. I believe it was Sir Gawain who said it was like we all stood at a round table. It became somewhat of a mocking term among us.”

  “Please, Char.” I gave her my cup. “You have to taste this.”

  She held it to her nose and closed her eyes. As she inhaled whatever scents she got, she smacked her lips as if she wanted to taste them as well. Tilting the cup carefully, she took a sip and placed it on the table. We all watched in silence as the Don Hekal, known among the erudites in Avalen as Carolina of Doethin—Carolina of Wisdom—experienced whatever the magical ale showed her.

  “Elaine of Astolat.” Her voice came out in a solemn whisper.

  I flinched. “What?”

  “And there’s Felicia.” Charlie opened her eyes and smiled at me. “Elain
e of Astolat, you know? The Lady of Shalott?”

  Galahad coughed.

  The only reference I recognised was the name Felicia, the name of the sword Gemma had taken from me. “I don’t know, sorry.”

  “She was deeply in love with Sir Lancelot, but he only had eyes for another woman.”

  “Elaine of Corbenic,” Galahad offered. “My mother.”

  Rubbing my eyes, I blew out a breath. “This is too much.”

  Galahad coughed again and took a swig of his cup. “Morgana bestowed the immense honour upon my father, Sir Lancelot and me, by naming her daughter after my mother. I had no knowledge of Elaine of Astolat being mentioned in the Magobinian tales.”

  “She is, sir,” Charlie said. “But it’s actually her chambermaid that is the hero of that particular tale. She saves Elaine’s life by sacrificing her own.”

  “Felicia,” Galahad said. “I heard about her tragic demise only a few weeks before we set off to Camlann.”

  The final battle. Where Morgana and Merlin saved Arthur and his knights. “It all connects,” I whispered. “It feels like I’ve come full circle. My mother’s name was Elaine, too. Now I know where it came from.”

  “Don’t forget Guinevere.” My name-sister Jen winked at me.

  “That’s right,” Charlie said. “Ever since the first Elaine of Morgana set foot on the other side of the portal—on Earth—the daughters in the bloodline have been named either Elaine or Guinevere. Or derivations of the names. Ruby’s full name is Ruby Guinevere Morgan.”

  “Guinevere was King Arthur’s queen,” Galahad said. “I am pleased to learn that her name, which means The White Lady, has been passed on in the most sacred bloodline of all.”

  “And it has spread to other tongues,” Jen said. “My full name is Jeannine, which is Guinevere in my mother’s tongue, Gaulanti.”

  “Astonishing.” Pullhelli tapped a finger to his lips. “Elaine is an old Wallish name, meaning Shining Light.” He reached over the table and took my hand. “My child. I think you might be right about that circle. Your being here now might be the answer to the mystery of the Fall of Light.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Taryn and Alun had spent their time well, and by the end of their account of their travels, Charlie—who of course had parchment and ink in her satchel—had tallied all the figures in her immaculate handwriting.

  “The manticores were happy to join our ranks,” Alun offered. “To be honest, they seemed quite eager. One of them said life in Ygrenya was quiet, bordering on tedious.”

  “So a battle against a few thousand Sorcerers is just a recreational trip for them?” I asked.

  The kid grinned. “More or less.” He put on a serious face. “But they won’t take the battle lightly. When we left them, they promised to send your enemies to the Nethers.”

  “Well, great job, Alun.”

  “The proud people of Wenhaven stand by you, as well,” Taryn said.

  I smiled. “I suspect their loyalty is rather connected to you, Commander. I’m glad they will join our cause. How many?”

  “Seven hundred able soldiers, among them some of the finest airborne archers in the realm. In addition, they have just shy of fifty unicorns.”

  Cynthia cleared her throat.

  “I said some of the finest.”

  “Then I’ll allow it,” the Fae archeress supreme said. “Maybe they can join us on the range after we have taken Avalen. I heard there was a certain competition there a while ago.”

  Rowan opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.

  “Let’s win this war first, then we can discuss who has the better aim.”

  “Of course, sister.” A crooked smile played on Rowan’s lips. “But let me just say, the best archer is related to you.”

  Charlie rolled her eyes. “Twenty-one thousand four hundred troops, Ruby. Two thirds of whom have wings. That gives you,” she pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose, “six thousand archers, give or take. As magical powers go, there are about two hundred Sorcerers, and three thousand Changelings of various kinds.”

  “Does that include Aderyn and his eagles?” Taryn asked.

  “Good,” I said. “I hoped he would reach you.”

  “Eagles know where to look for eagles. He has four hundred and a few in his flock.”

  I suppressed a smile as my dad corrected the Crimson commander in the back of my mind.

  “Twenty-one thousand eight hundred, then.” Charlie jotted down the additional number. “And a few.”

  “Sixty-two ships,” Brendan added. “According to Evonny, at least. That’s the number Zuwar and Naheena command in Gwyn Tala port.”

  “They should be waiting at that hamlet down by the south coast.” I glanced at my great-uncle. “What was its name again?”

  “Bae Tawel,” Pullhelli said.

  I snapped my fingers. “Right, The Bay of Tranquility. Will sixty-three ships be enough for all of us?”

  Rolling her sleeves up, Charlie raised her arms and held her hands out. “Depends on the size of the ships, I guess. There’s five hundred and sixty of us, including all the wolves and foxes out there.”

  “Don’t forget my personal guard,” Galahad interjected.

  She clicked her tongue. “Six hundred and eighty-five. Naheena and Zuwar already have six hundred aboard the ships, so it’s anyone’s guess whether there’s room.”

  “Worst case, we’ll have to go back and forth, then,” I said. “Commander Taryn? Where is the best spot to go ashore on Avalon?”

  The eagle Shifter stood. “I have a suggestion, if I may?”

  “Please.”

  “I believe we can take the harbour city of Pelles back. The people there are very close to the Avalenians, and have traditionally been the most loyal to Morgana. If I could go over with, say, fifty men, I think I could rally the necessary uprising to cast Auberon’s soldiers out.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It sounds risky. My army is only a fifth of Auberon’s, if that. What if you’re wrong?”

  “With all due respect, Highness, I’m not wrong about this. The Pellethons will lift their swords and spears for you.”

  “And for Morgana.”

  “Her name lives on in the streets and alleys, yes.” His voice trembled ever so slightly. “But I have spoken with them, by their dinner tables, on the street corners, and in the secret ale houses. They love the memory of Morgana, and they will fight for you.”

  I looked at Rowan and Brendan, who both tilted their chins at me.

  “If we can take Pelles, it means we can assemble all our forces there,” Rowan said. “Then it’s just half a day’s march over the Avalen Plains to get to the city walls.”

  “Fifty men?” I asked Taryn.

  “And one woman.” Cynthia squared her shoulders. “If Taryn agrees.”

  “I would be honoured,” my Master of War replied.

  “You can have fifty of my guards,” Galahad said. “Or a hundred, if you wish.”

  “Your soldiers are Pixies and Fae, are they not?”

  “The best of their kinds.” The knight among us gave me a broad smile.

  “Your Majesty?” Taryn grasped his belt and strapped it around his hip, the hilt of his sword glimmering in the light of the candle in front of him. “Give me three days, and I’ll have your banner on the city walls and towers of Pelles.”

  “About that.” Pullhelli tapped the pommel of his staff against the table. “Our queen doesn’t have a banner yet.”

  I smiled. “Sure I do.”

  He slanted his head at me.

  “Morgana’s banner. That’s the colours I’ll go to war with.” I looked around to find no trepidation in their faces. “It is so ordered.” Having the last word was odd, but everyone had pitched in. This was how I had said it would be. My advisors advised, and I took what they said to heart. Not that I didn’t have thoughts of my own. However, I also knew my limitations, and I had been blessed with the people around me. They
had strength, valour, pride, knowledge, not to mention undying love for their world and the people in it. What more could I have asked for? “May the Lady protect you. And you, Cynthia of Cavalas.”

  The Fae pocketed a piece of bread in a pouch in her belt and grabbed her bow and quiver. “She will.” She followed Taryn to the door, pausing on the threshold. “And remember what I said, Brendan of Callaghan. I’ll hold you to your word.”

  “Anything else would surprise me,” he replied. “Stay safe.”

  The door slammed shut, and I fell back on my chair.

  What the fudge?

  “What was that all about?” I whispered to my boyfriend.

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  I started to object but didn’t know what to say. A hand came to rest on mine, and I whipped my head around. “What?” I snapped.

  Charlie retracted her hand. “Sorry. I was just going to say goodnight. Row and I are off to bed, and I think we should all get some sleep. There’s nothing we can do about Taryn’s mission now, and as far as the Goblins are concerned, we’ll just have to wait until tomorrow, or so Pullhelli told me.”

  I heaved a sigh. “You’re right.” As had become the norm, everyone rose when I did. “I’m going to bed. Let’s hope the Goblins have good news in the morning.” I set my sight on Brendan. “You coming?”

  “Sure.”

  We went down the hallway behind the kitchen corner, to what one of Trys-Tain’s servants had pointed out was my bedroom. I held the door for him, sucking my lips in between my teeth.

  “Spill it.” The words tumbled out the moment I shut the door behind me. “What exactly is Cynthia’s game?”

  He pulled back, making a quizzical face. “Her what?”

  “Game, angle, play … whatever. She’s been all over you for weeks, and I’m sick and tired of it. And now, as she’s off to war, she turns around and talks about some agreement you have? What’s going on, B?”

  The puzzled look vanished and was replaced by one of those trademark smiles of his that included every nook and cranny of his face. Under other circumstances, I’d be prone to melt from it, but now it only served as an additional provocation.