From her perch atop a rock a few hundred yards away, Princess Meadow glared at her brother silhouetted against the moonlight, watching him with such lethal intent had she been in human form with bow in hand, she would have shot him through the gut. That the arrow would have been dipped in wolfsbane was a given for she wanted nothing more than Gladeson's agonizing death.
A death such as the one her hated brother had dealt Kheper, the only man who would ever possess Meadow's heart and eternal loyalty.
"I will avenge you, my love," she thought for in her present form speech was impossible.
It was a surety now that if she wanted to see the deed done, she'd have to do it herself. The assassin she'd sent to murder Rolanda so the blame could be placed on Glade's ugly head had failed. Had he succeeded, Glade would have been tried and condemned for ordering his wife's death, his head severed at the executioner's block but now that would not happen. Word had been sent back to Meadow that the craven coward she'd hired would not try again.
"Fools," she thought. "All men were fools!"
Turning, she leapt down from the rock and ran back toward the keep. She could not stand to look upon Glade another minute longer for fear she would physically attack the bastard. She knew she would need to bide her time until she could get him alone.
* * *
The next morning found Glade lying atop the ridge shivering, his naked body blue from the cold. He shivered and sat up to run a hand through his hair, not surprised in the least to find a sheathing of frost on the dark curls. He got, stretched and put his chilled hands to his mouth to blow on them. It would be a long walk back to the keep and he was barefoot, cursing himself for having come this far in his lupine state.
"Want some clothing, Wolfboy?"
Glade looked around to see his twin standing a few feet away, a satchel clutched to his chest as he leaned against a tall pine.
"Don't call me that," Glade mumbled as he minced his way over the sharp rocks and nettles to reach his brother.
"You really don't have a brain in that head of yours, do you?" Slade inquired as he tossed the satchel at Glade. "Didn't occur to you that you might spend the night atop yon rock?"
"I wasn't thinking," Glade told him as he hunkered down with the satchel and opened it, grateful there were not only a shirt, jacket and pants within but socks and boots as well.
"Goes without saying, I suppose," Slade agreed. He folded his arms over his chest and looked out over the ridge. "Mother has called a Council of the clan women. They meet at eight of the clock this morn. Have you any notion what that's about?"
Glade shrugged. "There's no telling," he said as he stood to pull on the pants.
"Might have been a suggestion from your lady-love's Queen that brought it on," Slade suggested. "She and Mother were thick as thieves yesterday afternoon, their heads together over something."
"The only thing I care about is finding a way to rid myself of Rolanda," Glade replied. "If the Council can come up with a solution that problem, I would be one happy camper."
"No doubt you would," Slade declared.
Easing the shirt on over his wounds, Glade glanced up as he buttoned the garment. "What do you think of her?"
Slade looked around at him and smiled. "She's more than a handful, I think."
Glade returned the smile. "That she is."
"And she makes you happy."
"Aye," Glade acknowledged. "Very happy."
"Then remember that when Rolanda gets here."
Glade's head came up so quickly he staggered. "What?"
"Word arrived at dawn that your Lady-wife is on her way here with a contingent of troops accompanied by the Marquise, herself. It seems our kinswoman is coming here to rectify the estrangement between the two of you."
"Oh, gods, surely not!" Glade whispered.
"Father doesn't believe the Marquise knows of Rolanda's perfidy against you but Mother believes she does and that's why she's making the trip in person rather than sending an emissary, bringing her daughter back to her estranged husband."
Stuffing the shirt into his pants, Glade considered that statement for a moment then groaned. "I'm screwed." He bent down to pluck the jacket from the satchel. "I'm royally screwed."
"Aye, it would seem so," Slade replied. He nudged his chin. "Put your boots on and let's go. No one has told your lady of this news for we thought you'd prefer to."
"She's not going to like it," Glade prophesied, "any more than I do."
"I would think not but you need to make it clear to her--what with her being a female warrior and all--that she can't go about slitting Rolanda's throat or pushing her off the battlements for you will be the one to atone for the act."
Glade groaned again as he sat down heavily on the ground to pull on his socks and boots. "What the fuck did I do to deserve any of this?" he queried.
"Well, thankfully it was you born under that unlucky star instead of me," his twin joked.
Lauryl knew something was up when it was well into the late morning before anyone came to release her from her chamber. She heard the locks on her door being opened slowly instead with the alacrity she had come to expect and tensed, expecting trouble. When the door opened and she saw Glade standing there with a solemn expression, her heart leapt up in her throat.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"There is a family meeting and you are bid to attend," he said then looked pointedly away from her.
It was then Lauryl saw the two guards who were flanking him. She nodded. "Let me put my boots on."
Glade waited outside her room with his hands on his hips, keenly aware of the two men who had been ordered to shadow his every move from now on. The fact that they were armed had not escaped him but he knew the weapons were meant to protect him. His parents--especially his Mother--would not allow anyone near enough to do him damage as long as Rolanda was in the picture.
Lauryl came out of the room and he stepped back to make room for her, waiting until she had closed the door before sweeping a hand outward to indicate she was to precede him. Silently, they moved toward the stairs with the two guards close behind. When they came to the ground floor and Glade moved past the Great Hall and toward a small door guarded by two armed soldiers, she gave him a quizzical look.
"Where is it we're going?"
"To the Halla Na Maribh," he said. "Deep within the inner sanctum of Cumhacht Keep."
"And what is this place?" she asked as the soldiers snapped to attention and one pulled open the thick oaken door with its bands of iron.
"Where our family meets when there is important business meant only for our eyes and ears," he answered. He entered the torch lit corridor beyond the door before her then held out his hand to take hers.
Lauryl slipped her hand into his and followed where he led.
Along a close winding corridor hazy with smoke from the torches and which sloped ever downward, the air around her growing colder with every step she took, she kept close hold on Glade's warm hand. Down a perilously steep set of stairs that curved around and around, into a frigid, damp passageway that made it impossible to walk side by side so she was forced to walk close on her lover's heels, she felt the claustrophobia pressing in on her until she found it hard to draw breath. It was a dank, dismal passage into which she traveled--made even more so by the low light and freezing temperature that had now brought fog to play in wisps around her ankles.
"How much farther?" she asked nervously. Though she trusted Glade with her life, she was acutely uneasy in this wretched place.
"Not far," he said.
"I pray it will be warmer there," she muttered.
"It won't," he said.
Lauryl caught herself before she could moan with disappointment. Her teeth were already chattering and her feet felt like blocks of ice as she plodded along behind him.
At last they came to another oaken door but this one was not guarded. It stood open and beyond it was a flicker of candlelight. He stopped before they reached the po
rtal and turned to her.
"No one outside our family has ever been allowed into the Halla Na Maribh. No in-law has ever been invited here. It is an honor my King and Queen have extended to you and one of which I am humbly proud. I know not what the meeting is about but I can promise you it is of great importance else you would not have been asked to attend." He put his free hand on her cheek. "Do you understand what I am saying to you, beloved?"
She nodded. "I do and I am honored."
He straightened his shoulders. "Then come let us join the Clan Faolchúnna. "
They were all there--his family--sitting around a circular table presided over by the King whose throne-like chair was taller than those spanning out from it. Two chairs were vacant and it was to one of these that Glade led her, seating her between him and Knoll. It was a crowded fit but somehow it felt right to her as she took her seat.
"Welcome, Princess Lauryl," the King said.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said in a voice she didn't recognize as her own.
"Did you tell her of our coming visitors?" Glade's father asked.
"No, Sire," Glade answered. "I did not have the chance."
Lauryl looked from the King to her lover then back again. She felt her heartbeat accelerate and knew she would not like what she was about to hear.
"The Princess Rolanda will be gracing us with her presence," King Barren said in a disdain tone.
Lauryl's eyes widened then narrowed with hatred as she looked to Glade. She knew she should keep her thoughts to herself until asked for her opinion but she was dying to scream her denial of the situation.
"Lauryl," the Queen spoke up, gaining the Bandar witch's immediate attention. "The women of Faolchúnna met this morn in Council. It was a historic meeting for the single item on the agenda has never come before us until now."
"And never should have," Princess Meadow murmured loud enough for Lauryl to hear.
"Hush, Meadow," Princess Moor hissed.
"You had your chance to cast your vote, Meadow. You were voted down and with just cause," her mother said. "Now pray keep your opinions and concerns to yourself else leave this assemblage."
Meadow clenched her jaw, her angry eyes locked--not on the brother she hated--but on that brother's whore.
"I was told there are no laws in Bandar pertaining to Joining," the Queen continued. "A woman can take a man as her husband if she desires it but that union is not binding upon her or him."
"That is so," Lauryl agreed. "If she grows tired of him, she can put him aside."
"And if he grows tired of her?" Prince Vale asked.
Lauryl smiled. "That would be his problem, not hers," she answered. "She can leave him but he can not leave her without her consent."
"Then it's glad I am that we don't live in Bandar," Vale remarked and everyone except Meadow laughed.
"But you do understand the laws of the Faolchúnna as they pertain to Joining?" King Barren queried.
"I do although I can not pretend I appreciate your legal stanch," Lauryl answered.
"There was a reason the Old Ones created the laws regarding Joining," King Barren said. "It used to be a man could take a woman unto him and cast her aside as though she were a worn out boot." His lips twitched. "Much as you women discard your unwanted mates."
This time no one laughed.
"When a woman was cast aside, her children were declared illegitimate; opening the door for the warrior to take a new wife, father children by that new woman and thus his possessions would go to this new family, leaving the elder children to fend for themselves as bastards."
"That was not to the anyone's advantage," Queen Adélie put in. "Especially not the poor woman who much of the time was a spoil of some border skirmish between her clan and ours. Nor was it right that her children suffer for their father's conceit and carelessness. They did not ask to be brought into this world with the stigma of bastard hanging over them. Children of such unions could not inherit, could not own land or cattle or marry above their stations. Divorce was an ugly thing in those days."
"So, the Old Ones decided a woman and her children must be protected and the fickle folly of our clansmen not be allowed to continue. In order to marry, there would now be binding rules by which the men must abide. If they wanted a woman, they had to want her for life else she would not be given to him in Joining. There would be no setting aside of the union for any reason nor would there be allowed a provision for the man to have a mistress. To take one, to flaunt the laws of morality, would be punishable," the King explained. "Just as Glade was punished for committing the sin of relations with you."
Glade started to speak but his mother held up her hand.
"Gladeson, whether or not you lay with her is a moot point. There was sexual release and that was forbidden under the Old One's laws."
"A man's seed was to be spent only within the body of his legal wife. Thus the women were protected, their children were protected, and the men were held accountable for their actions." He glanced at his Lady-wife. "It seemed the ideal solution in most cases."
"In most cases," the Queen repeated.
"But not in mine," Glade mumbled.
"Nay, son," the Queen agreed. "Not in yours and for that I humbly beg your pardon."
"You couldn't have known, Mother," Glade said.
"No, but you tried to warn us and we paid no heed to that warning," the King said sadly. "I am even more at fault that your poor mother and I, too, ask your forgiveness."
"You did what you thought best for an ungrateful child!" Meadow spoke up. "There is no reason to ask his forgiveness for anything!"
"Do not speak again unless given permission to do so, girl," her father said as softly as a feather floating upon the air but the words carried the weight of a blade upon them.
"So now you know why the laws were enacted," the Queen said. "You may not agree with them and--truth be told--many do not, but there was a reason for them at the time."
"Many of our laws are antiquated and there has been talk of a Council to argue the merits of each one. I strongly suspect that law will be changed but ...." The King looked to Glade. "Unfortunately, even if the laws regarding Joining are changed, they would not be retroactive."
"So I would still be stuck with Rolanda," Glade said in a miserable voice.
"I am afraid so, son, but the women of your clan took the matter of your relationship with Lauryl under consideration and given the circumstances of what Rolanda attempted to do in order to become one of us through you was taken into account," his mother said.
"Meaning what exactly?" Glade asked.
"Dispensation was granted for you to transfer power to Lauryl if she is agreeable to accept it from you," the Queen said quietly.
Glade went perfectly still, his eyes wide and lips parted in shock.
"What does that mean?" Lauryl asked as she took in the paleness of her lover's face.
"You can not have relations with her, of course," his mother was saying, "but she can be declared your life-mate and you could reside with her."
"Not bond-mate," his father clarified, "for this is what Rolanda will remain and there is no changing that."
"Since your Lady-wife has no love or care for you and, in fact, tried to do you serious harm because she sought the power of the Faolchúnna, your clanswomen decided you be granted a help-meet. Through no fault of your own did you cause the strain between you and Rolanda save for denying her what you knew she should not have. I stress again--there can not be relations between you and Lauryl but you are an honorable man, Lauryl is an honorable woman from a royal house, so you will be trusted not to do that which you know is wrong."
"And you think with her in his bed he will leave her be, Mother?" Meadow demanded.
"We will have their word such will not happen," her mother answered.
Meadow's face turned red with anger. "You and the other women are being reckless to believe he will keep his hands to himself and she will not offer her body to him!"
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"Your brother will adhere to the stipulation, Meadow. Don't you think he deserves some happiness in life?" the Queen inquired.
"No, I don't and you know why!" Meadow replied. "But how I feel about him is neither here nor there. It is the law that he leave this woman be and yet you and the other women are giving him permission to break that law."
"He will break no law," the King stated. "We will see to that."
"It would be cruel to keep them apart, Meadow," Prince Ridge, the Heir-Apparent spoke up.
"Think you I care?" Meadow threw at her oldest brother.
"No," Ridge said with a shake of his head. "I suppose you don't."
"Thankfully the rest of us don't feel the same," Princess Moor commented and there were mumbles of agreement from the other siblings.
"I'm sorry," Lauryl spoke up, "but I don't understand any of this. Are you suggesting that Glade and I live together?"
"Not as husband and wife, but, aye," the Queen told her.
"By sharing his power with you, you will become his life-mate and in the doing you will both know a measure of happiness even if you can not be together in a sexual way. There are many couples who are together out of fondness for one another but who are celibate," the King explained.
"But it is against the law for him to even touch her!" Meadow protested. "Do you honestly think he will lie beside her at night and not do so? That they both will not stray? If you truly believe this, then you are not only mad but stupid!"
"Leave this table!" the King ordered, his words thunderous, his eyes flashing fury at his eldest daughter. "Now! Right this minute!"
"Fine!" Meadow snapped and shoved back her chair to flounce from the room in a flurry of velvet skirts. She stopped in the doorway, turned and gave her family a derisive look. "Don't say I didn't warn you what would happen for allowing this travesty to begin!"
Glade pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut as though he were in pain.
"Did your sister give you a migraine?" Prince Vale asked. "She gave me one."
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