She leapt up into the space between two crenellations, and her friends did the same.
“What about archers?” Captain Franck asked in a panic, and the archers along the wall brought up their bows.
Kiernan shook her head. “Won’t work! They have skin as thick as a mantath!”
Captain Franck paced the length of the parapet. “Stand down, soldiers! Stand down!”
Beck was the first to react by throwing out his hands and rippling the ground before the Cymans and sending the first line sprawling. Those that went down didn’t stand a chance as the forces behind continued to advance, trampling them to the ground.
Even though the Cymans were immune to the archers’ arrows that couldn’t penetrate their hardened skin, it was not so with Rogan’s arrows. The screams of soldiers and the smell of burning flesh filled the air as fire slammed into their ranks.
Kiernan cringed. This is nothing short of a slaughter. How can Ravener send his warriors to their deaths in this manner?
Yet, still they came.
“Call in the Cavalry!” she shouted.
Captain Franck gave the order and the signal was sounded for the mounted unit to retreat. They did so reluctantly, Kiernan noticed. These were soldiers trained to fight and a fight was exactly what they were looking for.
She noticed the frown on Beck’s face as he created a sinkhole and fifty Cyman warriors perished when they were buried alive. It wasn’t easy to take a life, no matter how justified the act.
Airron’s black wolf slithered through the mounted troops returning through the open gates to shred warriors with his sharp claws and teeth.
By the time Beck, Rogan and Airron were finished with their deadly magic, there were only two Cymans left standing. One of them was Teag and he stumbled close to the wall, bloodied and exhausted. He laughed bitterly as he looked at the carnage around him.
“We meet again, Massan,” he snarled up at Beck.
“Yes, we do,” Beck acknowledged.
The Cyman fell to one knee as he laughed manically. “Come off your wall and let us negotiate your surrender!”
Kiernan turned to one of the soldiers nearby. “Throw your sword over the wall.” He hesitated at the unusual request. “Do as you have been ordered, soldier.”
Unsheathing his weapon, he did as she asked.
Kiernan watched the sword land and then sought out the Cyman standing next to Teag with her magic. The soldier snapped his head up to look at her and she slammed the link in place. Teag looked on suspiciously as his last remaining comrade walked to the fallen sword, picked it up and, with a mighty two-handed swing, took his head off at the shoulders.
“We do not negotiate with the enemy,” she said unapologetically.
Chapter 14
Homecoming
Kiernan made her way wearily back to the palace with Beck, Rogan and Airron, and on the way met up with Rory who had been hurrying to intercept them. Kiernan had forgotten all about the young fireshifter.
“Where were you?” she asked.
“Your friend, Larkin, had me cornered,” he said angrily. “The girl has the arms of an octopus.”
Kiernan patted his shoulder. “I’m sure she meant no harm, Rory.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he murmured. “But, that’s not why I’m here. Your father wishes to see you in Grace Hall immediately.”
Kiernan nodded in resignation. “Thank you, Rory.”
Grace Hall, named after her mother, Queen Grace Kenley Everard, was the pride of Nysa. Accented in black marble, the entire concaved domed ceiling featured a magnificent painted replica of the city in a stunning display of color. Kiernan’s mother commissioned the fresco a year before her death, but fell ill before its completion.
For the most part, her father used the hall to take commoner appeals. People traveled to Nysa from all over Iserlohn to petition the King and his vassals for everything from settling land disputes to seeking employment to requesting foodstuffs for their families.
The sudden sound of hoof beats racing toward her from behind turned her around. Charging up on a splendid Palomino, the mounted man yanked cruelly on the horse’s bit to stop the animal directly in front of Kiernan.
She recognized him as Lord Davad Etin, a house member of her father’s Court. He was finely dressed in a silk coat and trousers in the red and blue of House Etin, and his handsome face was pinched in disapproval as he looked down at her. “So, the rumor is true.”
She sighed regretfully. As soon as she stepped off the parapet and the Iserlohn soldiers shied away from her, she knew what would be coming. “Which rumor would that be, Lord Etin?” she asked coolly.
“How about the one where you and your cohorts killed five hundred men in cold blood using magic?”
She flinched inwardly, but outwardly remained unperturbed. “Those men, if you wish to call them so, were enemy forces who have invaded Massa, Lord Etin. Our actions were wholly justifiable and saved the lives of hundreds of Iserlohn soldiers who would have perished had they met those warriors on the battlefield.”
“So you say.”
“I do say, and you will address me properly, Lord Etin! Your insolence is tiring and inappropriate.”
He bowed from his saddle. “Forgive me, Your Grace. The use of magic shifting and the arrival of monsters out of a child’s nightmare have me—and others I might add—a bit off balance.”
“I can understand,” she freely admitted.
He cleared his throat. “What would you have done with the bodies, Your Grace?”
“Burn them. Good day, Lord Etin.”
Without another word, she turned and strode into the castle. She could sense that Beck wanted to say something to her, but she kept her eyes to the front and led a hurried pace to Grace Hall. If she stopped now, her tenuous grasp on her composure would crumble to pieces.
The servants they met along the way gasped at the sight of the stomping Princess and either dropped low to the ground in a curtsy or fled in the other direction. Apparently, news of her shifting had traveled to the castle much faster than she did. She forced down the butterflies in her stomach and stopped before the two Scarlet Sabers outside of the hall.
The soldiers immediately knelt with fists to the ground in front of them. “Please rise,” she ordered.
They did so and announced her presence to her father inside.
“She may enter,” came the deep reply.
Kiernan swallowed and went in. Her father, sitting stoically on his official throne, watched her come.
He was not a very tall man, but possessed an imposing physique with broad shoulders and muscular arms and legs. He had dark, shoulder-length hair with long sideburns and dark eyes that, when fixed on you, felt as though they could read every thought you ever had. At least that was what the twelve-year-old Kiernan had always thought. For some reason, the eighteen-year-old Kiernan was feeling the same way.
The long walk under the domed ceiling seemed to take a lifetime. When she reached his throne, she knelt before him, took a hold of his hand and laid her cheek upon it. It took all of her resolve not to cry. This man was home to her. He was love and safety and warmth.
Maximus stroked the back of her head. Despite the circumstances of their separation, she had always known that he loved her very much.
“It is good to see you, daughter.”
She looked up into those knowing eyes and blurted, “I just killed a man.”
“I heard.”
“I do not regret it, Father. I did what I had to do. I only regret that the citizens of Nysa had to find out about me in this way.”
“It is unfortunate. You know how they feel about magic.”
Kiernan narrowed her eyes. “It is how you feel about magic, Father. The people follow the lead of their King.”
Her father sighed loudly. “I do not wish to resurrect a six-year-old fight with you, Kiernan. The law is the law.”
She decided not to pull any punches. “Magic saved your
life today,” she said, referring to the thwarted attack of the assassin. “But for magic, I may be Queen right now.”
The King snorted. “Bah! It would take more than a skulking coward to send me to the Highworld!”
Kiernan stood, deciding to let the argument go. Her father was right. This was an old fight and one she would not soon win. She gestured behind her to the others. “Father, these are my friends Beck Atlan, Rogan Radek, Airron Falewir and Rory Greeley.”
The boys gave her father awkward bows.
The King stood. “As friends of Kiernan, I welcome you to Nysa. Are you all shifters?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Beck answered for them all.
Her father gave him a pointed look. “Are you any good?”
Beck looked surprised, but answered honestly. “Yes, Your Grace. I am.”
The King grinned. “Better than the young fireshifter behind you, I hope. The boy couldn’t even create a flicker of a flame when I asked him to.”
Beck smiled and looked at Rory who had his eyes firmly on the ground. “He must have been nervous, Your Grace.”
The King waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever the reason, he did inform me of the tragedy of Pyraan.” He looked at Beck and then Airron. “I am sorry for your losses. I actually had the opportunity to meet both of your parents several times over the years and found them to be very fine people.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
Dark eyes glittered dangerously. “We will get these bastards, you have my word. All of Iserlohn’s soldiers are being recalled to Nysa as we speak.”
Beck cleared his throat. “Your Grace, with all due respect, I’m not sure that this is a war that Iserlohn can win alone. The combined might of all three lands may be needed to even stand a chance.”
“Bah! The Scarlet Sabers and Iserlohn Army can defeat these animals. They are made of flesh and blood, are they not?”
“Yes, but it is the Mage we are concerned about.”
The King waved a hand. “We will discuss further at dinner this evening.”
“Dinner? Father, we really don’t have time—”
“Kiernan, there is etiquette to be followed even in times of war. This dinner with my Court has been planned for weeks now, and I do not intend to cancel. I will need their support in any case. Now, tell me about these Cymans,” he ordered.
Kiernan recounted what Titus told them of the Cyman’s human and Desert Troll genealogy and of the horrible experiments inflicted upon them by Adrian Ravener.
The King gave her a penetrating look. “So, why then do you have one of these creatures hiding in my stables? He smells and he’s scaring the horses.”
Demon’s breath, she cursed to herself. “He is one of the Cyman soldiers that we captured during the initial conflict with the enemy at the Crown Bluffs in Pyraan.”
“Why is he still alive?” he demanded.
“Originally, we kept him alive to gather intelligence about the invaders.”
“And now?”
She hesitated. “He…is a friend.”
His eyes held disappointment. “I had hoped that your decision making would have improved with age. Princesses need to be wise in order to lead their people.”
Kiernan stiffened her back. “I am a shifter first, Father. By your decree.”
The King’s lips flattened into a straight line. “I will see you at dinner,” he said brusquely. “And, I expect you to wear your House colors. That dress is entirely unsuitable.”
It was a dismissal.
***
When Beck offered to walk her to her room, Kiernan asked one of the servants to show the others to their chambers so they could wash before dinner.
“I guess that went as well as could be expected given the circumstances,” he said just outside her door, leaning his shoulder into the stone wall of the corridor.
“Went well? My father is a condescending, arrogant pighead! But, I suppose,” she conceded, “that he does genuinely care very much for the people of Iserlohn.”
“As do you,” Beck replied with a lazy smile.
“Yes.”
He reached out to finger one of the curls framing her face. “I’m discovering many new sides to the girl who has been my best friend for six years. Sides I knew nothing about, Your Grace.”
“Do not call me that! Ever!” she said forcefully and spun from him. When he laughed, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Do you like all my different sides?”
He pushed off the wall. “No.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“I love all of your different sides. Even those qualities of your father’s that he’s passed down to you.”
“Oh, you brute!” She playfully raised her arm to slap him, but he caught her wrist in his large hand and an electrical current surged through her.
He stared at her hungrily. “Would it be proper for me to enter your bed chambers, Princess Kiernan?”
She found it hard to breathe. “It would be highly improper for you to do so, Master Atlan.”
He moved closer. “Are you sure?”
Her heart leapt into her throat. “I…I am quite sure. However, it appears that we really have no choice in the matter.”
“No, we don’t,” he confirmed.
Still gazing into his blue eyes, she fumbled behind her for the handle. The door opened and they stumbled inside together.
Beck kicked the door shut, grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her up against the wall. He pressed his body hard against hers. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you right now,” he growled and brought his mouth down on hers.
She responded instantly, her lips opening to his. The world shifted as they melted together, burning in their desire for each other.
His hands were not idle. Stroking the side of her face, her neck and then further down to caress the curve of her breast through the delicate fabric of her dress.
His touch produced an unexpected spasm down low in her body, a pleasure-filled throb she had never experienced before, and she moaned against his mouth. She pulled him tighter, inhaling his scent, and ran her fingers through his hair.
Beck snatched her wrists and pinned them above her head on the wall while his knee snaked between her legs to hold her in place. His head bent to her throat and nipped at her skin.
She was on fire.
He looked down at her with eyes heavy with need and slowly, very slowly, lowered one of his hands to the tie at the back of her dress.
The strap came loose in his hand, and she whimpered as the garment fell down to her waist, tumbling her breasts free. She bit her lip shyly as he looked at her.
“You are so beautiful,” he said in a ragged breath.
He cupped one of her breasts in his hand and ran a thumb over her nipple. Longing raced through her, and her knees buckled. Beck caught her, picked her up and carried her to her large, canopied childhood bed.
He carefully set her down and she inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed her hips to gather her dress and slide it the rest of the way down her body. His eyes soaked her in for long seconds before he leaned down and his mouth found her breast, his breath hot on her skin as he ran his tongue over its surface. She arched up into him with a strangled cry.
Beck stood to remove his own clothing and she admired his powerfully built body through brazen, lidded eyes, impatient to have him back in her arms.
At last, he lowered himself on top of her and she had never felt so loved, so complete in her life.
Chapter 15
Declarations
Beck entered the transformed Grace Hall for the King’s dinner with Rogan and Airron. There appeared to be close to thirty people in attendance, and he recognized several of them. He nodded politely to Bo Franck, the graying captain of the Iserlohn Army, and Captain Colbie Nash of the Scarlet Sabers. Lord Davad Etin was there as well in the same brilliant red and blue coat he had been wearing earlier. Poor Rory
Greeley was backed into a corner by an assertive Larkin Malley and having what appeared to be a one-sided conversation.
There were several other men in military regalia that he didn’t know, and the lords and ladies of the King’s Court were all present, dressed elegantly in the colors of their Houses.
“Pardon me,” said a soft feminine voice, and they turned to a lovely brown-haired woman of about thirty years. “I have never met an Elf before,” she said looking at Airron. “You are really quite beautiful.”
Airron lit up in his trademark grin. “Asha. Thank you, my lady,” he said, lifting her gloved hand and bowing dramatically.
“I am the Lady Lillian Knapp of House Knapp, but please call me Lilly.”
“And you may call me Airron, Lilly.” Airron boldly fixed the lady in his almond-shaped, purple eyes. “If you are interested in learning more about the Elves, Lilly, meet me in the royal gardens after the dinner, and I will teach you everything I know.”
“Which isn’t much,” Rogan murmured under his breath to Beck.
Lilly met his gaze. “I would like that, Airron.”
“Until then, Lilly,” he said and let go of her hand with another flourish.
As soon as she walked away, Airron said, “That woman is going to make a man of me yet.”
“You are seriously not right,” Rogan grumbled, shaking his head.
Beck ignored the banter and looked around at the beautiful hall and the incredible workmanship of the mural above his head. In the glow of candlelight, dinner tables were dressed impeccably with scarlet and black linens and placed strategically throughout the great room, all facing the King’s much larger table on the dais where his throne had sat earlier.
A hush went over the room and a liveried servant stepped forward. “Lords and ladies, honored guests, may I present to you, the Princess of Iserlohn, Princess of Men, Kiernan Grace Everard.”
Beck turned and sucked in his breath at the vision before him. He had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. Except perhaps the one my eyes feasted on earlier this evening, he corrected himself with a smile.
Tonight, Kiernan wore a high-waisted, red silk gown with a low-cut square neckline. The silken material, gathered just beneath her bosom under a black velvet ribbon, hung to the floor in shimmering waves. Her long blonde hair was piled artfully on top of her head with soft ringlets loosely framing her face and neck. The crowning touch was the ruby and onyx tiara that glittered in the light of hundreds of candles. A velvet choker around her neck discretely hid her athame from view. Her idea or her father’s?
Island Shifters - An Oath of the Blood (Book One) Page 14