The shimmering leaves of the trees ringing the pond were now bright orange, red, pink and yellow as they danced in the ever-present wind blowing off the Carniad Sea. Here, under the shelter of the trees and carefully sculpted bushes of the Royal Gardens, she was sheltered from the abrasive, salty near-gale. One again back in her natural form she paced the grass beside the dark waters of the pond. Eric was late. She wrung her hands and tried to slow her erratic breathing. Finally, she heard the soft footfall of someone approaching. From the gate and the heaviness of the sound, she knew before she had visual confirmation that it was Eric. When he came into view, she ran into his arms. He held her tight and gripped him as if she would never let him go.
After a while, he pulled away from her and held her at arms-length. “Are you ready to go my Forest Princess?” His words were playful, but Raven could see the concern etched across Eric’s face.
“Let’s go, then.” Raven tried to bolster his confidence with a bright smile, but she did not feel very confident that they would make it out of the city, let alone out into the countryside. Taking her hand firmly in his they quickly made their way to the stables.
The Royal Stables weren’t as busy as Raven would have thought, but there was some activity. There were dozens of stomping, snorting beasts all neatly tucked away in fancy wooden compartments. Each door had a little sign with the horse’s name lovingly carved and painted into it. Just as Eric had said, there were two horses standing outside with a young groom holding their reins. Both horses were packed with supplies and stood ready to be off on a journey.
“Thank you,” Eric said and gave the boy a few coins as he took the reins. He turned to Raven. “Are you ready, my love?” Raven nodded her head, unable to say a word. She tried to smile, but she was suddenly overcome with black dread. Her heart pounded in her chest, and all she seemed to be able to hear was the rushing of her blood in her ears. She looked up into Eric’s face for reassurance that things were going as planned, but his smile quickly fell away, and his eyes darted to something behind her. She saw fear in his eyes as they grew darker and the curve of his lips straightened into to a hard grimace. Raven began to tremble as she slowly turned around.
“Many pardons High Prince, but the king and queen summon you and Mistress Raven immediately.” Six guards stood wide and tall conveying any hope of escape would be futile. Their yellow and blue tunics blazed in the Fall sunshine suddenly too bright for Raven to see. Her senses were hyper aware, and she almost choked as she was overcome with the smell of manure and horse sweat. Her stomach turned, and she bent over and vomited into the dry straw. Eric quickly took her arm and gently rubbed her back as she heaved over and over. The guards shifted in their boots as if they were uncomfortable with the sight.
Finally, the sickness passed, and she straightened up. She wiped her mouth, took a deep breath and held her chin up high. Eric took her hand, and they followed the guards to what surely was to be her doom.
CHAPTER NINE
Raven and Eric stood before the King and Queen of Beaynid in the opulence that was the Royal Throne Room. Despite the mild weather outside, both the enormous fireplaces on each side of the cavernous room held blazing fires making the room stifling. From the corner of her eye, she could see a drop of sweat roll down Eric’s face. He had dropped her hand as soon as they entered the room. He now stood straight with his hand clasped together behind his back, his black-booted feet planted well apart on the azure blue carpet, his chin held high. Raven had to admit he looked confident; unafraid.
Off to the right side of the daises, Alie and the rest of the queen’s handmaidens stood in a sad little row. Alie looked up and gave Raven a smile, but terror was etched all over her face. Raven returned the smile, then Alie quickly turned her eyes to the floor again like the rest of the handmaidens, their backs hunched and their trembling hands clasped before them.
To the left, standing beside and a little behind the king’s throne stood Eric’s twin little brothers, Princes Tam and Lon. They looked to be about eight or nine summers old. They were watching the proceedings through wide blue eyes. They stood straight in their crisp fall-colored tunics, black pants and shiny black boots that ended just under their knees. Each wore a small, plain, golden circlet upon their curly, copper-colored hair. Raven off-handedly noticed that their hair and skin tone were closer to their mother’s. There was fear on their identical, young faces, but so was an overpowering curiosity.
Raven took a deep breath, trying to slow her wildly beating heart as she started quaking in her slippers. Her hands were clasped together in front of her wrinkled skirts. She looked from Eric to his parents sitting on their ornate thrones. This was the first time she had seen the King of Beaynid. Eric looked a lot like his father: that Suen white-blond hair, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes. His lined face was hard as iron; his bushy blond eyebrows were drawn together, creating a deep crease between his cold eyes. His thin lips were clamped shut in a tight, white line. His big hands angrily gripped the carved armrests of his throne making his large signet ring stick up like an angry, red growth.
When she dared, Raven flicked her dark eyes to Queen Danielle, who was staring at her with a triumphant look on her pretty face. Her green eyes were almost soft as they creased in answer to her mocking sneer. She daintily rested her bejeweled hands upon her voluptuous skirts of cloth-of-gold. Raven’s knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the queen’s loathsome glare. There was no mistaking the sheer hate she felt for Raven—the girl who would steal her son away.
Finally, King Lund spoke. His voice boomed through the large hall drowning out the sharp crackling of the fires. “So, you’d think you’d sneak away from your duties, did you?” Raven swallowed hard and looked at Eric who stood silently, not even acknowledging his father’s words. “Answer me!” King Lund screamed, his voice cracking.
“My fiancée and I were leaving Sona Tuath, yes, father.” Eric’s voice was steady and clear.
Queen Danielle barked a most unladylike laughter. “Fiancée?” she mocked incredulously. “You think to elevate this … this … servant to the station of High Princess?” Raven could tell the queen was barely holding back hysteria that threatened to break free at any moment.
King Lund cleared his throat and looked from his wife to his son. “You were going to take this girl as your wife?” Disbelief rang in the king’s voice that suddenly did not sound so confident any longer.
“Aye, father. I love her, and she will soon be bearing the heir to the Beaynidan throne!” Eric stood a little taller as his deep, resonant voice echoed through the hall and through Raven’s heart. Eric tore his eyes from his father and looked over at Raven, who gave him a reassuring smile.
There was a loud gasp, and everyone in the room jerked their heads toward the queen perched up on the daises. “You whore!” Queen Danielle stood up and pointed at Raven, her green eyes flashing in livid anger. “You think you can seduce your way onto this throne, you forest trollop!” The queen angrily gripped her lavish skirts in her hands and rushed down the stairs toward Raven. The king stood and called out to her, but the queen would not be deterred. Eric moved to stand in front of Raven blocking his mother’s angry path. “Guards!” she shouted as she marched up to her son. Two guards were suddenly at each side of Eric and took him forcibly by the arms. He struggled, but was overpowered.
Queen Danielle walked around Eric and stopped in front of Raven. She smiled, and her face turned dark, her green eyes were daggers slicing into Raven’s chest. Quickly she pulled her arm back and before Raven could even throw up a hand in defense the Queen of Beaynid slapped her hard across the cheek, the crack bouncing off the distant walls of the throne room. Raven spun, stumbled and fell to the ground. Eric yelled at his mother, and two more guards jumped on him, forcing him to the ground. As they both lay on the plush blue carpet Raven could see Eric mouthing that he loved her, but she could not hear his voice. Everything was silent and time seemed to slow down to a crawl.
; Suddenly she was being lifted from the floor by a couple of guards, and she watched as Eric was hauled off the floor as well. King Lund quickly descended the stairs of the daises and walked up to his oldest son, young Tam and Lon were on his heels not wanting to miss a moment of the drama. “Take him to his room and see that he does not leave!” the king barked.
“Father, no! You must let me go. I am to be a father soon. You cannot take her away from me!” Eric howled as they violently drug him toward the massive doors that were quickly being opened.
King Lund then walked over to Raven, and she shrunk back from his hard stare. “You, young lady, are hereby banished from Sona Tuath never to return upon pain of death!” the king announced, his words echoing off the huge, dark beams on the distant ceiling. “Take this servant and remove her from Sona Tuath at once!”
Raven turned to see Eric being drug across the room, fighting every step they took. “Raven!” he screamed, and she could hear the pain in his voice. Raven’s chest became tight with sorrow. She screwed her eyes shut tight and tucked her chin down.
All at once the darkness behind her shut eyelids turned bright red. Emotion began to overtake her as tears slipped from her closed eyes. She began to shake, and the hair on her body stood erect as her skin started to burn. She could hear the guard suck in his breath as he clamped down tighter on her arm, causing her to cry out in pain. Abruptly, a loud crack split through the hall as Raven opened her eyes and in a blinding flash, the guard who was holding her was struck by lightning and thrown across the room. She could hear the queen scream out in terror as the king backed away from her, his once cold blue eyes were now wide with fear. Raven looked around the room, and every eye was on her. Even the guards who were removing Eric from the hall had stopped to gape at her. Her dark eyes locked onto Eric’s blue ones and she was crushed to see not only fear but revulsion. At that moment, as time stopped, her heart broke like a fragile vase carelessly tossed away.
She closed her eyes then and melted into a raven—her namesake. She jumped from the blue carpet into the air still charged with electricity and glided twice around the room looking at each and every one in there, braying out her pain and condemnation. Then she flew to one of the huge windows, heedless of the glass, and smashed through the panes, taking flight into the cooling fall air.
She circled the blinding white walls of the Castle Sona Tuath until she grew so weary she had to rest, tiny drops of blood leaking from several small cuts. Her circuits over the castle got wider and wider until she flew over an abandoned shack standing ruined upon a grassy bluff. She landed hard on the roof, her wings drooping with fatigue and thankful to finally be resting. After a while, she glided down from the shack and landed in the long, thick grass. Sighing, she returned to her natural form and lay in the cool grass looking up at the darkening sky.
Her arms were tired, her head was pounding, her body was sore from the small cuts suffered from the broken glass, but none of it was as painful as her broken heart when she recalled the look in Eric’s eyes. Her throat closed in a tight, painful ball as huge tears rolled from her eyes down into her ears and hair. Had she gone too far in calling the lightening? It had not been a conscious decision, in fact, most Goyor were unable to harness that kind of power, but she had been swept up in the tumult of losing Eric and being banished from Sona Tuath. She had no control—it was not her fault … was it?
After the sky had faded from red to pink and then finally to black, the air turned moist and chilled. Raven finally forced herself up from the dewy grass and walked toward the forest that lay not far beyond the shack. It was now just a deep darkness in the surrounding gloom.
Her eyes could see perfectly in the dark, so she slowly moved through the brush and trees, picking up small pieces of wood along the way, a friendly owl hooted from a far up branch as if to give her comfort. She was grateful. When her arms were full, she returned to the shack and carefully stacked the wood in the hearth. She closed her eyes and said a long, pleading prayer to Pom-Ni for forgiveness and then gently blew into the fire pit. An orange spark started to glow then flames gradually started lapping at the dry wood. She smiled and thought of her brother, Fire-Caller. All Goyor had the power to spark a flame, but Fire-Caller could have burned down this whole shack in minutes, he received his name, thus. Her family, it seemed, was blessed with more than the usual Goyor powers.
After the fire was cheerfully crackling and quickly warming the room, she took up an old braided rug that lay before the hearth and took it outside. She hung it over a low branch on a nearby tree and took up a fallen branch and started to beat the ancient dust and dirt from the shabby old rug. After a while, she returned to the warm hearth and laid out the rug that now smelled of the salty air outside and the crisp grass and pine. Feeling a little more content than she did a minute before, she laid down on the rug, closed her eyes, and in an exhausted haze fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER TEN
Raven stood up straight, stretching her tight back, bending backward as far as she could. She sighed and rammed her fists into the small of her back trying to knead away the tenderness. She turned her face up to the sun and closed her eyes barely aware of the constant scouring wind. The baby within her womb turned, and Raven put her hands upon her bloated belly gently stroking the child that she would soon be holding in her arms.
She sucked in her breath as another spasm wracked her body. She had been having them all day and knew her time was near. She had a fire burning in the shack boiling a cauldron of water. She had towels and blankets aplenty. Through the long winter months, she had journeyed into the forest and gathered the down-soft under-bark of the trees her people called Pom Pom trees. She harvested many baskets full of the fluffy balls, then took them back to her hearth where she knitted it into blankets and gowns for her child. The forest was always generous to her people and gave them everything they needed.
Raven slowly walked to the boulder on the edge of the cliff and sat back heavily upon it relieving her swollen feet. The land was just now starting to turn green after the harshness of winter. She gazed down at the white-walled castle and wondered what Eric was up to. It had been a long time since she had been able to take the form of a bird and fly down to the Royal Gardens—for bird-form did not translate well with pregnancy. She had spent many an afternoon searching from the branches of the trees in the gardens for one glimpse of the High Prince of Beaynid. She had spotted him a few times at windows and once even walking through the garden. She wanted so badly to fly down and appear before him, but guards were always nearby, watching his every move. She had been banished on pain of death, and though she was pretty sure she could escape if she had to, she never could get up the nerve. And then she got too heavy with child to fly. Her emptiness inside was like the never-ending blackness of space. It was paradoxical, really. The fuller she got with his child, the less she felt of him.
Raven was gripped by another crushing pain and this time she yelled out; birds in nearby trees took flight at the sudden noise. A slick warmth gushed down her legs, so she knew it was time to get back to the hut on the bluff that had been her home over the past six months. She looked back down at the castle that seemed deserted from her perch upon the cliff. The sun was quickly fading and turning the castle gray. She sighed a long, pitiful sound and slowly rose from the boulder and waddled back down the path that she had beaten into the tall bluff-grass. Her bare feet shuffled across the sharp grass, but she did not feel the cuts—her mind was on her child and how much she wished Eric was by her side.
After stopping twice more from the intense pain of advancing labor, she finally made it to her shack. Carefully, she removed her dress and hung it on a peg by the door. She pulled down her wet smallclothes and left them where they lay. She bent double, and the breath was stolen from her lungs from the cramping pain. When it subsided, she hoisted four more large logs onto the fire, knowing she would not be able to do it later. She took a pan of hot water from the large iron cauldron and made her
way to the narrow, little bed. She had placed plenty of towels and blankets there earlier in the morning when she knew her time had come. She lay on her side and drew up her legs as far as she could and tenderly massaged her round belly.
The evening had grown cold outside, but the shack was warmed by the fire that would soon be blazing even hotter. Sweat beaded upon her forehead and she clenched her teeth and eyes shut as she was wracked by another pain. As the agony ebbed, she began to cry. Tears streamed down her dark cheeks now hot with the fire. “Eric!” she called out to the empty room.
A full moon sailed across a crisp, cloudless sky. Raven’s cries had rung out over the bluff and were finally drowned by the churning red waves of the Carniad Sea below her. In her deepest moment of despair and exhaustion she had thought Eric had finally come to her side, but when she opened her red-rimmed eyes all she saw was an empty, dark room, the fire finally subsided into glowing coals.
Finally, when the night reached its darkest moment, Raven got to her hands and knees on her little bed and started to push a new life into this world. With one more grunting push, she felt the baby slip from her womb as it gently landed on the piles of linen. Carefully, she took the small babe up in her arms and tenderly washed away her blood with a damp towel. Tears of joy and relief flooded her eyes as she admired the perfection that was her daughter.
Flight of the Raven (A The Sword of Rhiannon Prequel) Page 6