“We are not ordinary travelers. We are servants of the Faerie Queen.”
The woman’s expression changed ever so slightly. It went from an expression of pure, unadulterated terror, to something of introspection.
People knew of the Faerie Queen, or at least had heard of her. Though many likely didn’t believe the rumors, there were some that believed, and given what the woman had recently witnessed, it was no surprise when she said, “go with the gods, then.” Her eyes finally showing a glimmer of steel in them.
Una nodded. She reached in her pouch for another gold coin and handed it to the woman. “Here. There’s another on the counter in the village shop. Go there, and take it. You will need it for the path ahead.”
The woman took the coin with trembling fingers. “I can’t repay you.”
“You won’t have to.”
Rising, Una inclined her head to the side at Guyon, signaling to him that they should move on.
Guyon nodded, but paused to say one last thing to the distraught victim. “I swear to you, we will find the one who did this to you, and bring her to justice. We will restore balance for you and all those who have suffered at this woman’s hand.”
With that, the two of them continued on down the road. It didn’t take them long to find the massacre the frantic woman had described. On the ground ahead of them lay bodies, dozens of them, and all women.
Una put a hand over her mouth, not for the smell, for the corpses had not been dead long enough for the stink to set in. No, the sheer horror of the scene was enough to boil her blood and yet chill her bones. There were no wounds on the bodies, but various body parts hung at odd angles, or bent in ways they shouldn’t. Heads were twisted to face backwards.
The look on Guyon’s face was one of pure rage. His arms and chest shook, and his lips were pressed against each other so hard his face was beginning to go red. Words seemed to fail him.
Una understood all too well. She was not always one to give into such visceral emotion, but she had also never witnessed the slaughter of women. Not like this. This was more than a crime, it was an abomination. And it was so...needless. Not even Duessa would have killed without reason. Acrasia, if it was truly she who had murdered these women, seemed to enjoy the slaughter.
Guyon gripped the pommel of his sword, hard enough that Una could see the whites of his knuckles.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched back to his horse, “Come on,” he said, waving her forward. “You hold the baby and we’ll both ride.”
“Can the horse take it?” Una asked. It already had to carry a lot as it was, considering there was no pack mule.
“We can’t be far from the Holy Island,” he replied. “Once we’re there, we can drop off the babe with whoever will take him, then we can find this Acrasia and rid the world of her.”
“We’re not going after Acrasia now? She must be nearby.”
Guyon shook his head. “We have no way of knowing where she went. If she is still on the road, perhaps we’ll find her. But if not, we must search for her island another way.”
Una nodded. She didn’t really want to be on a horse with Guyon and the baby, packed as it would be. She preferred walking most of the time. But the look in Guyon’s face did not encourage argument. Of course, had she a reason to stay behind, perhaps she would. But right now it made no sense. And Guyon was right. The sooner they could push forward, the better. Perhaps they would find this Acrasia before she could do any more harm.
Temporarily handing the baby off to Guyon, she swung herself into the saddle before taking the child back, and setting her jaw as Guyon mounted the horse and took the reins from behind her. She didn’t like being in this position. It made her feel too...surrounded. Though perhaps she could have dealt with it had George been the one behind her.
Guyon, however, did not seem to notice. He heeled Fairstep and together, all four of them took off to the west.
“You’d think Pellinore would start taking notice now that people are disappearing by the dozens?” she called as they rode.
“Perhaps he already has,” said Guyon. “I would expect a man of his reputation to be anxiously engaged in such matters. Though from what we just saw, much of the problem has been recent, without enough time to truly spread the word.”
Una quieted, partly because she secretly doubted Pellinore’s apparent devotion, even to his own people, but also partly because of the ride itself. Guyon had his horse at nearly a full gallop, and he was already pushing it hard.
Within mere minutes of setting out, they came to body of shallow water, much like a river, though from the smell hanging in the air, it had to be salt water. Across the divide was more green grazing land, and a crude bridge connected the landmasses. It was similar to the divide they had crossed not two days prior, but smaller and less cared for.
“That is the Holy Island,” said Guyon, not pausing before racing his horse across the bridge so they were almost on the other side before Una could answer.
“It looks big,” she said. “Almost as big as the rest of Anglesey.”
“If I could show you a map, you’d see it’s much smaller,” he replied. “But it is also a large island, practically part of the mainland. But it won’t take long to get to the island’s capital and keep. At this rate, maybe half an hour.”
Una wasn’t even sure the horse would last that long. He was already foaming slightly at the mouth.
They eventually stopped at a small stream for one quick break to feed and water the horse. But they did not stop for long. “The horse can rest when we arrive,” said Guyon, before they rode once more.
They passed the occasional farmer, but did not see more until they crested a hill and looked off to see the distant sea, and a small town ahead of them. Guyon pulled the horse up short for a moment while it caught its breath.
“Is that the main town?”
Guyon nodded. “They call it simply, the Head.”
“How long since you were here?”
“I was only a boy at the time,” he admitted.
“Much could have changed,” Una pointed out.
“Indeed, we must be cautious.”
With a soft kick, Guyon encouraged the horse to begin its journey down the hill and closer to the northern beach where the town lay.
As they drew near, Una could see ships docked in an extensive harbor. And off in the distance at the edge of the peninsula, a tall building.
“That’s called a lighthouse,” said Guyon, as he observed where she was staring. “They use it to help ships navig…”
“I know what a lighthouse is,” she said, indignantly. But at her outburst the baby began to whine and she immediately forgot her retort. She hated crying babies.
“I’m sorry, I’d forgotten your education,” said Guyon. “I’m continually surprised that your parents taught you so much.”
“They wanted me to take over the kingdom after them. We had a lot of business with other lords, and even foreign dignitaries, and I needed to know everything I could before I could effectively rule.”
“Could they not have other children? A son perhaps to take care of all that?”
Had they not been riding, she would have twisted in the saddle and given him a piece of her mind. “Now listen here,” she said, though she kept her voice from growing too angry so as not to disturb the child. “The idea that only men should be the rulers is silly. You’ve seen just how fickle they can be.”
“I know,” he said, and his voice held a touch of sadness. “Forgive me.”
That ended the conversation, but Una couldn’t help but think long and hard about what he’d said. She’d never given it much thought that her parents had never had a child after her. And now that she knew Antioch wasn’t really her father, that added an extra layer to the confusion. And if her parents had known the significance of her bloodline, did that have anything to do with the extensive education she had received?
Guyon slowed the horse to a trot, and it was only the
n that Una realized they were already at the edge of the town. The place stank of fish, which was no wonder, since it seemed almost everyone she saw was tending to a boat of some kind, or involved in preparing, cooking, or selling the latest catch.
“Excuse me,” said Guyon as they drew near a young boy in the street. “Could you tell us where we might find the governor of this town?”
“Governor?” said the boy in a rather unique accent Una couldn’t place. “We don’t have a governor, sir knight. But if you ride to the fort, you might find one of the daughters.” He pointed up the road at what looked to be a small, three-sided castle along the coast.
Una narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, daughters? What happened to your governor?”
“He died, miss,” said the boy, looking at her as though she should know. “His three daughters are all at odds on who should inherit what. Meanwhile the rest of us keep carrying on like nothing happened. Ain’t much changed to be honest.”
“Thank you, my lad,” said Guyon, tossing the boy a silver penny. “You’ll let us know if anything else is amiss.”
The boy stared at the shiny penny, wide-eyed at receiving so much. Looking back at Guyon, he added, “There is one other thing, sir. There are two knights like yourself at the keep. They’ve allied themselves with two of the daughters. Folks say they want the governorship for themselves, you see. Is that why you’ve come?”
“No,” said Guyon. “But I thank you for your help. There will be another penny like that one if you learn of anything else.”
With that, he urged the horse onward, and they proceeded down the road and up the small hill where the fort was located along the coast.
The fort was old, Una could see. Definitely Roman by design, though it was obvious the Romans had no foothold here any longer. This had been an old fort, likely designed to guard against the Scots many years earlier, before Vortigern and Uther Pendragon. Una had heard stories of those days, but it had all happened before she was born.
As they drew nearer, there came a rather boisterous sound of some kind of battle, and that of at least one woman wailing at the top of her lungs.
“Someone’s in trouble,” said Guyon, and he spurred Fairstep forward. Una nearly tipped out of her seat, and barely managed to keep a tight grip on the baby, as the horse flew ahead.
10
Soon they came to the front gate, and it was clear from the noise that the battle was happening inside the fort, though the gate was closed, so Una could not figure out how any enemy could have gone in. There was still a woman shrieking from time to time, but it was sporadic. She must have been watching the battle and only screamed when something particularly distressing happened.
“Ho there!” called Guyon, dismounting and running up to the gate. “What ails you? Let me in and I can help.”
At first there was no reply. The sound of men grunting and swords clashing still rang through the air. But a moment later, a woman appeared, wearing a modest blue dress. She had brown curls that hung to her neck and her face was clean and pretty, but not too pretty as to be a distraction to most men, like Una’s face. Perhaps this was the girl who was shrieking earlier. But no, just as Una thought it, she heard another squeal from further in. There must be another woman, or multiple women inside.
“Oh, thank goodness!” said the newcomer, darting forward and undoing the latch on the gate. It swung forward and Guyon stepped through. Una dismounted and followed more cautiously, clutching the baby to her chest. Something didn’t feel right about this place.
“What’s going on?” said Guyon. “Who’s attacking.”
“My sister’s suitors,” said the woman. “They go at it every chance they can get. One seems to think the other is here to stir up trouble, and that one accuses the first of being cowardly. Can you tell them to make peace?”
“Hold on,” said Una. “You’re saying it’s just two normal people fighting in there? You’re not under attack or anything?”
“Oh no,” said the woman. “But it needs to stop. I know what they really want. They want my father’s governorship. It’s as good as a crown in these parts.”
“I will speak to them,” said Guyon, though he looked a little chagrined, as if he had been expecting a more serious battle.
He ran through the gate into the courtyard, where the two men were fighting, though Una couldn’t see from her angle. Instead, she turned to the woman who had opened the gate. “What was your name?”
“I’m Medina,” said the woman. “I’m the middle sister here. Our father passed away recently, and instead of grieve, they squabble like ravens.”
“I’m sorry,” said Una.
“It is alright,” Medina nodded in gratitude. “It was father’s time to go. But he never made it clear which of us should inherit what, and none of us are married.”
“Do you not have an uncle or cousin who could take over?” Una asked. She wasn’t fond of such inheritance traditions, but they were common enough.
Medina shook her head. “None. My sisters and I have taken to different parts of the fort, claiming it as our own. Though, I’d let them have all of it if I thought it would do me any good. And who are you?”
“I’m Una,” Una introduced herself. “That other man is Sir Guyon.”
“And is this your child?” said Medina, smiling down at the little man in Una’s arms.
“Oh no, Guyon and I aren’t married,” said Una. “This boy’s mother died, and we’ve been trying to find him a home.”
“Hold!” cried Guyon from deeper inside. “Let’s talk this out like honorable…” But the words were cut off as the battle apparently continued on.
“What a sad tale,” said Medina. “You’ll have to tell me more about it later.”
“I’ll be happy to, if Guyon can manage to stay alive,” Una said, staring off in the direction Guyon had run.
“He had a kind face,” said Medina, following Una’s gaze.
“Yes, though I’m surprised you let us in before knowing who we were?”
Medina sighed. “Honestly I’d do just about anything at this point. Once my sisters brought in suitors, it seemed the competition just won’t stop. They think that by marrying, they might secure themselves as the rightful ruler of the island.”
“I see you have not brought in a suitor.” Una observed.
“No, and it would do me no good at this point. Elissa, the oldest, claims her age gives her the right to the inheritance, and her suitor agrees with her. He is a good man, though perhaps a bit dull-witted and easily provoked. But my younger sister, Perissa, she claims her right because she is cleverer and would make a better leader of the people.”
“And is she right?”
Medina shook her head immediately, “She is impulsive and takes everything to excess. But her suitor, he scares me. I fear she may take control just from his influence, and I fear for the island should that happen. He came in one day without a word, asking for my sister’s hand. His armor was strange, and I did not recognize his accent. Elissa and her suitor don’t like him either, that’s why they fight all the time.”
“And what about you?” Una asked. “You seem to be level-headed enough.”
Medina shrugged. “The servants still answer to me, though many have left. All the guards have left because my sisters refuse to pay them until they decide who is the new governor. I would become governor if I thought it would do any good, but all it would do is turn my sisters on me.”
The sound of battle had not stopped, despite Guyon’s arrival. If anything, the clash of swords and occasional yelps from the woman who was undoubtedly one of Medina’s sisters, had increased.
“Perhaps we should check on them,” said Medina, and Una was quick to agree. Hoisting the child up against her chest, she followed Medina around the corner and looked ahead at the battle.
Guyon was now engaged with both of the others, ducking and weaving around their swords almost with ease. Una cocked her head at the knight. She’d never act
ually seen him fight before, apart from the quick skirmish with George, but he wasn’t all that bad. Not as good as George, of course, but he was easily holding his own against two others.
Medina’s sisters stood on either side of the courtyard. One had her hands clutched to her face, and was clearly the source of the occasional shrieks and squeals. The other sat in a chair on the other side, and almost seemed...bored. She looked like the eldest, Elissa, but she looked like she didn’t care. Her eyes stared off into blank space.
Una and Medina drew closer, until Una could get a better look at the two suitors who fought with Guyon and with each other, though mostly with Guyon at this point. She caught a clear view of both of their faces.
And immediately the magic within her boiled to the breaking point.
Kill, cried a voice. Kill them, burn their bodies, smash them into a dozen pieces.
Yes, fight them, said another voice, the one Una had identified as the more cunning, and therefore the more dangerous voice. The world will be better without these two.
They will kill us, said the timid voice. Please don’t make us.
The two opponents were none other than Sir Kay, and one of Duessa’s servants, Pyrochles.
Una stood, rooted to the spot, blood rushing to her face as she watched the two attack Sir Guyon. Guyon held them off, but he was giving away ground.
What are you waiting for, kill them, said the angry voice. Here, give us control.
In that moment, something reached for her magic, much as it had done back by the Severn river to heal the dying woman. It clutched for the power, power that Una knew instinctively could end this battle in a heartbeat, but that could also kill all three combatants just as fast. But this time, Una was more prepared.
She seized control over her magic, holding it fast. It was the first time she’d intentionally touched it in some time. The magic filled her, called to be used, begged her for release. She wanted to release it, to hurl waves of power at the unsuspecting combatants. Guyon could withstand it, he would jump out of the way. And though she did not like Sir Kay, he would not be her target either. Her enemy was Pyrochles, the lawless knight, the man who had, mere weeks ago, tried to rape her. He was a servant of their ultimate enemy. What was he doing here?
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