by C. J. Archer
"Proceed, Quellery," the queen said. "Tell us more of the usurper's treasonous plots."
Quellery pushed out his considerable chest. "They wanted to buy my army and use it to overthrow you, my queen. I bided my time as long as I could, to allow my man to reach you, then captured the rebels and brought them here."
"And did Miss Alice orchestrate these plots?"
"Under the guidance of Ironside." He looked to Markell. "He's the real villain here, Your Majesty. He planned to marry her once she was on the throne. Personal power and gain are his motivation, not mine."
The crowd of noblemen and women murmured among themselves, but more than one soldier shook his head sadly. They knew Markell best and knew he wasn't motivated by greed.
"If that is so," Markell broke in, "then I wouldn't want to marry her now, would I, since she has nothing but her character to offer?" He turned to Alice and despite everything, his voice gentled. "If she would have me, I would marry her here in this room, at this moment."
She sensed the change in the audience. It began with the shifting of feet and whispers that slowly escalated until she could hear the words.
"…love…" said a woman.
"…from a good family…" said another.
"…conviction and loyalty."
"Quellery's a turncoat," a man said, loud enough for all to hear.
Lord Quellery protested with a vehement quake of his jowls. Lady Oxana stood in the middle of the front row, as still as a pillar, only her pale throat moving with her swallows. She'd sensed the change in the air too, and she was afraid.
"Princess Alice is not the villain the queen paints her to be." Markell's voice rose clear over all others. "She is clever and strong, kind and just. If she weren't, I wouldn't be declaring my love for her now. I wouldn't be prepared to tether my life to hers."
"Quiet!" the queen shouted. "Stop talking, Traitor!"
Despite her temper flaring, the audience's murmurs continued.
Alice knew what Markell was doing, and she knew what she must do next. He urged her with a nod.
"I accept your proposal of marriage, Markell," Alice announced. A distant part of her considered the absurd theatricality of it, but she set that aside. Now wasn't the time for self-conscience. "I may have only known him a few days but he has proven himself loyal to me, kind and courageous. He has guided me in all things, and I was looking forward to learning so much more about my country and its people, about my parents." Her voice cracked and the tears threatened to spill. "When I first met Sir Markell, I feared him. He explained who I was, my situation, my birthright, and when I got to know him—"
"Stop her!" the queen demanded.
"My friends were afraid to lose me and fought Sir Markell and General Ironside. Wonderland's finest men proved how brave they were, how loyal to their country and people. I wasn't brought up as a princess. I didn't know anything about Wonderland until recently, and I feared what faced me here. But Sir Markell made the transition easy, with his patience and guidance. I am yet to meet many Wonderlanders, but if they are all like him, then I know I will be in safe hands. I know I will love them because I love him."
"Stop her, stop her, stop her!" the queen screamed, banging her fist on her throne arm and her foot on the floor. "Lord Indrid, do something."
Indrid signaled the nearest soldier. He hesitated.
Alice saw her opportunity and took it. "You were not chosen by the people." She jutted her chin at the queen. "So you should not be allowed to make decisions that affect them."
The queen stiffened. "Your father wasn't chosen either. Nor your grandfather. Nor you, for that matter. I am the queen. That gives me the right to make decisions."
"I disagree. In England, the monarch's power is curtailed. She doesn't rule absolutely."
"What a foolish kingdom then." The queen snorted a laugh.
Alice tuned her out and listened to the murmurs, watched the faces of those in the room, not just the nobles, but the soldiers. The usually stoic men began exchanging glances. Two of them bent their heads together in quiet conversation, their gazes falling on Markell.
Alice had spent much of their time at Quellery Castle explaining the English monarchy and government to Markell and Lord Blaine. They'd been interested and even discussed ways of implementing a similar system in Wonderland. They'd suggested change should be introduced slowly and subtly, but there was no time for slow and subtle now.
"Officials elected by the people make laws after debate in parliament," Alice went on. "When I am queen, I will steer Wonderland toward a constitutional monarchy, and a system where power is not held by one person who hasn't been elected by the people."
"When you become queen!" the queen sneered. "Ha! Do you not see your shackles? Are you blind to your situation? It seems I need to spell it out to you. I find you guilty of high treason. As my niece, you are entitled to a swifter, more dignified punishment." To the audience, she said, "I am merciful. The traitor known as Miss Alice will be executed with a sharp sword. Off with her head!" She laughed and leaned forward. "But first, you will watch your lover die painfully." She signaled one of the guards. "Take Markell Ironside to the courtyard and begin his punishment. Court dismissed."
"No!" Alice's cry rose above the other voices. She appealed to the two soldiers who'd been talking to one another. "Don't allow this to happen. You have the power to stop this." She looked at each of the ten soldiers, holding their gazes one by one. "You respected General Ironside. I know you did."
"The traitor," the queen spat.
"He was loyal to Wonderland, a good man."
"He tried to kill me! His queen! The general broke his oath. He deserved his end."
"General Ironside realized his country was suffering under your rule." Alice's voice did not sound like her own. It was all steel and cold fury. She hated the woman who sat on the throne. Hated her for what she'd done to her parents, hated her for taking away her childhood, hated her for the pain she'd inflicted on Markell by killing his father. Alice couldn't hold back her anger anymore. She'd had enough. She would say her piece or die doing so. "The general died for Wonderland. He was loyal to its people. He should be applauded for helping us escape you. When I am queen, I will see that he is honored properly for his sacrifice."
"When, when, when! There you go again, assuming." The queen laughed, but it was nervous laughter that quickly died when she saw the soldiers draw their swords. "Guards! Guards!"
Two guards rushed to her, blocking anyone from getting close. Another threw open the doors and the audience of nobles poured out, sensing trouble. The other guards eyed the soldiers, more loyal to the Ironside name than the queen had expected. The soldiers were armed this time, thank God, but they were outnumbered, two to one. The queen also had Quellery's army, somewhere outside. Both armies were oblivious to the proceedings in the audience chamber. Once they became aware, it would be a different story. Lives would be lost. Panic would ensue. It would be carnage. They had to stop this now.
Markell sensed it too. He was on his feet, still shackled, but no longer looking defeated. He looked alive. So alive, and handsome and in command. "Men! It's time! Are you with me?"
The soldiers raised their swords as one. "Aye!"
"Take the queen prisoner!"
The soldiers engaged the guards in a deafening clash of swords. One of the soldiers slashed his blade through the ropes shackling Markell's hands but a guard attacked.
Everything in Alice screamed in fear.
Markell dove to the side and rolled out of the way of the guard's descending blade then he kicked the guard's shin. He lost his balance and the soldier drove his weapon through the guard's torso. He wasted no time in slicing through the rope tying Markell's feet together.
Markell jumped up and grabbed the fallen guard's sword. He fended off two more, holding them at bay, his sword flashing in the sunlight streaming through the windows. He was magnificent, an excellent swordsman. But he could not reach Alice in time.
She saw the guard coming for her but couldn't flee with her feet and hands tied. She dared not shout for help lest she distract Markell. He had to keep his wits about him to fight off two attackers. The guard slammed into her, punching the breath out of her. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder and carried her off toward the back of the audience chamber where the secret tunnel led out of the castle. The queen was ahead of them, ushered by another guard. Once inside, with the guards closing ranks around the entrance, it would be impossible to follow.
Alice glanced toward Markell. As if sensing her, he looked away from the fight and so missed the attacking thrust. The blade struck him and he stumbled back. Blood oozed from the wound in his side.
Chapter 14
Seth
The rabbit was more conspicuous than Seth would have liked. Gus and David marched Sir Uther between them with Seth leading. That way, it looked like they were transporting a prisoner. Dressed in stark white uniforms, they easily passed the handful of guards standing on duty in corridors and at doors. The castle's rooms joined together, each door leading straight into another chamber, all furnished with thick-legged chairs, embroidered tapestries, and no curtains to speak of, only shutters. Each room became more intimate—formal drawing room, followed by a music room, small sitting room, even smaller antechamber and finally the queen's bedchamber, with two guards standing by the door.
Gus and Seth marched up to them and punched them hard before they had a chance to realize they were not fellow guards. Seth caught one before his fall made a noise, but the other body thudded as it crumpled on the floor.
"Why didn't you catch him?" David whispered.
"Didn't think he deserved a soft landing," Gus said.
Seth put his hand on the door handle, but Sir Uther placed a paw over it to stay him. "They'll see you from where they stand," he said.
Seth nodded thanks for the warning and cracked open the door just enough to peer through. The bedchamber was as large as Lichfield's drawing room and contained several hazards in the form of solid furniture, and four guards at the wardrobe door on the far side. He closed the door.
"There are two on the left and two on the right, all armed," he said. "Swords are sheathed on left hips."
"That means they're right handed," Gus told David.
"I know that," David said. "I've read books on military battles."
"Then you'll be an expert."
David cut him a withering glare.
"Gus, you take the right two, I'll take the left," Seth said.
David nibbled his lip. "I should help."
Sir Uther held up his paws. "I'm not armed."
"And you're a coward," Gus added. "With sensitive ears."
"You can stand back," Seth said to David. The man had no training and no inclination to fight. He'd frozen when they were set upon by guards in the forest. Besides, Seth didn't want to see Eva's face if her brother got hurt. "Don't interrupt. Gus and I can manage two each."
Gus met his gaze. They both knew they could dispatch two average swordsmen but Seth doubted the guards were average. Their biggest weapon was the element of surprise. It would give them precious seconds in which to strike first before the guards realized they were being duped.
"Sir Uther, stay out of sight," he said.
The rabbit's nose twitched and he quickly melted into the shadows.
"You should too," Seth said to David.
David clasped his sword hilt with both hands and, for a moment, Seth thought he'd volunteer to join them in the fight. But he simply nodded and joined the rabbit.
Seth clasped Gus's shoulder. Gus nodded. There was no point in exchanging more words. They'd been in situations like this before, dozens of times. Words became meaningless after a while. Action was required now—and intense focus.
He opened the door and strode in. The four guards tensed then recognized the uniforms and relaxed. All except one.
"I don't know you," he said.
"We're new," Seth said, striding across the bedchamber, Gus at his side. "We haven't met yet."
One of the other guards unsheathed his sword. "We would have been introduced."
"We're introducing ourselves now."
"It's the prisoners!" said another. "I recognize—"
Seth drew his sword and thrust, but the guard who'd drawn his blade blocked it. Gus drove his sword through the guard's thigh.
One down.
Two against three were better odds but the guards were skillful. They were big men, and each bone shattering blow reverberated along Seth's arm. He danced into the fray and out, dodging those powerful strikes, parrying only when absolutely necessary to save his injured arm. He hadn't thought the cut deep but every blow felt like a hot iron had been shoved into the wound.
He fought two while Gus had one. Gus was the more capable knife man, but Seth was the better swordsman. Gus's technique was more slash and hack while Seth used his feet as much as his sword. He probably had his pugilism background to thank for that, as well as fencing when he was younger.
But these men were good. They carried swords with them all the time and trained with them every day. There was rarely a use for swordplay back home. Seth wished he'd practiced more with Lincoln.
Gus grunted but Seth dared not look to see if his friend had been struck. He couldn't afford to take his eyes off his two opponents. Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his back. His shoulder burned from the pounding strikes and his earlier wound felt like it was on fire.
Yet he struck hard and fast, using everything in his arsenal. He had to win. He had to get the spell book and take Eva home. There was something real between them, something precious and worth exploring. He couldn't leave her to the mercy of the queen. He couldn't let her die here.
The back of his legs struck the bed and he roared in frustration as he slashed one of the guards across the cheek. Blood oozed from the gash and the guard paused. Seth tried to take advantage of it and strike but the second guard parried it.
Both men came at him from the front and the bed behind him blocked that route.
He slipped to the right, dove and rolled. Both guards were upon him and he could not get up. He thrust up into one guard's stomach but couldn't free his blade. The man toppled, taking Seth's embedded sword with him.
The second guard grasped his sword in both hands, raised it, and with a piercing battle cry, plunged.
Seth rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet. The exercise cost him precious moments in which the guard had time to change his grip and thrust. But the strike missed and the guard fell to his knees clutching his throat, trying to stop the blood from pouring out.
David stood over him, sword in hand, and watched his first ever victim die.
Seth had no time to sympathize over first kills. Gus was trapped in a corner, hacking and slicing with powerful but wild strokes. The guard managed to dodge them but it wouldn't take long for Gus to tire using that technique. Seth swung and felled the guard.
Gus wiped his brow with the back of his hand. They exchanged grim looks. It was all the thanks Seth needed. "Let's find this book," Gus said.
Seth followed him into the wardrobe. It was as large as the bedchamber with two sofas, a long table, a dressing table, chairs and several chests set around the room. With no windows, they had to strike one of Gus's matches to light both torches positioned inside the door.
The three of them searched and were soon joined by Sir Uther. Nobody spoke as they rifled through the clothing in the chests.
"It's not here," the rabbit said as they emptied the last chest. "By the gods, where is it?"
Seth surveyed the room. If he possessed a precious object, he wouldn't hide it somewhere obvious. If he had a spell book, he'd probably place it in a library but there were no books in the queen's bedchamber or wardrobe. So where else? He paced the room, partly in thought, partly to seek out any hidden nooks.
One of the floor's paving stones rocked. It was loose, the mortar surrou
nding it cracked. He fell to his knees and pressed his fingers to the edges. It tilted.
Gus helped him with the heavy slab then Seth plunged his hand into the dark hole. HIs fingers closed around a small book.
He handed it to Sir Uther. "Is this it?"
The rabbit flipped pages with his paws. He stopped midway and showed the page to Seth. "When this spell is spoken into an object, it turns that object into a portal. I recommend a watch. It worked well for us in the past."
Seth took the book and tucked it under his arm. He wasn't letting it out of sight.
"You all right?" he asked David as they headed back the way they'd come.
David nodded. A spray of blood covered his forehead. Seth decided not to tell him. The less David thought about what he'd done, the less likely he was to crumble. And Seth needed him to be alert and capable. This wasn't over yet.
Somewhere in the distance, the sound of voices filtered out to them but he couldn't make out the words.
"The audience chamber," the rabbit said heavily.
Gus swore. "We have to get to Alice."
"I'm going to Eva," was all Seth said.
Gus must have heard the bleakness in Seth's voice because he didn't argue.
"You go." Seth handed the book to Sir Uther. "Open a portal and get Alice and Markell out."
The rabbit clutched the book to his chest. "I'm staying with you. I can't go in there alone without protection."
They found Eva where they left her, thank God, surrounded by the other human-like creatures. They all stood around her, seated on the floor, and looked up when Seth and the others arrived.
"What's wrong?" he asked. Eva sat, propped against the wall, her eyes closed and face ashen. God, no. Panic smashed into his chest. He fell to his knees beside her and cupped her too-pale cheeks. "Eva!"
She cracked open her eyes. "Seth." She drew in a breath. "Help me up. We have to go."
"You had a vision, didn't you?" David asked, taking her hand as Seth picked her up.
She nodded. "A powerful one."
"Your visions weaken you?" Seth asked.