But would he forgive her for yielding to Ahura Mazda’s blandishments in those days when her hope had been almost extinguished, and her heart was breaking? She had not thought he would until recently, when Ahura Mazda had taken an almost perverse delight in telling her that Dillon had taken a mistress who was said to be very fair. It was then Cinnia remembered that for Dillon pleasures were a natural thing to be enjoyed. They had been cruelly separated, but their bodies could not be denied. As long as their hearts remained true to one another it would be all right when they were finally reunited.
Oddly it had been the soil and the plants that had banished her deep depression. The feel of the Belmairan dirt between her fingers had renewed her courage. And when her plants began to flourish and grow she had felt her willpower and strength returning. Working her little apothecary had given her life meaning once again. But Cinnia was not happy, nor would she ever truly be again, she thought sadly. Still the friendship of the other wives was pleasant, for in Belmair she had had no friends but Nidhug. And there seemed no jealousy or animosity among the women. Each loved Ahura Mazda in her own way, and was grateful for his company when he chose to share himself with them.
Then one day as Cinnia walked along in the gardens of the castle she sensed that she was being watched. Turning she realized that she was near the bubble wall, and peeking out from the top of the wall was a creature who had the upper body of a young woman, and she could only assume, the lower body of a fish. Cinnia was enchanted by its beauty. She smiled at it. It had to be a magical creature, of course. Hello, she said in the silent language, and then she smiled again.
The creature looked startled, and skittered down behind the wall, peeping out shyly at Cinnia, her long golden hair drifting about her.
Please don’t be afraid, Cinnia said. I won’t hurt you.
Still half-hidden, the creature said, Who are you that you speak the silent tongue? And this dwelling is surely magic made. I have never seen its like before. You cannot be mortal.
My name is Cinnia, she answered. Do you have a name?
I am called Antea.
What are you? Cinnia could not help but ask.
The sea creature laughed lightly. I am a mermaid, from the race of Merfolk.
Of course! Cinnia exclaimed. I have studied about your kind.
What are you? Antea asked emboldened.
I am Belmairan, Cinnia said, and then she looked about to be certain they were not being observed by anyone else. These dwellings were created by the Yafir, a magic race. I was stolen by them. Most of the women here have been.
“Cinnia? Cinnia? Are you out in the gardens? Our husband has come to see us,” Volupia called, and Cinnia heard her coming near.
I come into the gardens each day at this time, she told the mermaid. Please come back again, Antea. I must go now or they will see you.
I will come back. Antea swam swiftly away through the thick seaweed that surrounded the magic bubble. She could not wait to find Agenor and tell him of what she had discovered. For weeks the Merfolk had searched the seas in vain looking for something out of the ordinary. And now she, Antea, a mere slip of a mermaid, had discovered something very unusual. She hoped it was what Agenor had been looking for all this time. She, like all the rest of her kind, had been told little. Seek for the unusual beneath the sea, Agenor had instructed them. Well, she had certainly found something unique in the civilization of bubbles that seemed to house small villages, and a very large bubble that held a castle.
It took her several days to reach her destination. The tide was high, permitting her to swim directly into Agenor’s cave. “Father!” she said, calling to him.
The chief of the Merfolk was lounging upon his great rock, peeling and eating a pineapple. His russet-red beard was wet with the fruit’s juices. He looked up at the sound of her voice. “Antea, my daughter, you looked exhausted. Here. Have a piece of pineapple, and refresh yourself.” He handed her a chunk of the fruit.
Antea popped it into her mouth, chewing, well satisfied. When she had swallowed the piece, she said, “Father, would you consider a community of great bubbles beneath our sea in which are villages, and one with a castle, unique?” Her green eyes were dancing merrily, for from the look upon his face Antea knew she had found whatever it was which her father had been seeking.
“I would indeed consider it odd,” Agenor said to his daughter. “You have found such a place? Where is it?”
“It is located in the remote western seas nearer to Beldane than any other land mass. I spoke to a girl within the bubble. She knows the silent language, Father. I think those within the bubble must be magic.”
“I believe, my daughter,” Agenor said, “that you may have found what we have been looking for, and I must now send for Duke Alban. See if you can find that pesky gull of mine,” he told her.
Antea swam to the mouth of the cave, and called, “Nereus! Your master needs you. Come quickly!” As she swam back into the cave, the gull whizzed by her ear, landing itself on a ledge near Agenor’s rock.
“Greetings, Agenor! How may I serve you today?” the gull asked.
“Go to Duke Alban, and tell him I may have found what he seeks,” Agenor instructed his messenger. “And hurry!”
“Is the duke to await further word from you, Agenor, or is he to come with all possible haste?” the gull wanted to know.
“Ask him to come as soon as possible,” Agenor replied.
“I will return with his answer as soon as I can, but it is afternoon now. I suppose you can expect me on the morrow sometime,” the seagull said. Then swooping down from the ledge where he had perched himself, Nereus left through the cave entry, his wings stirring up a slight breeze.
Duke Alban was surprised to find himself being addressed by a large seagull in his gardens as the sun set into the western sea. He listened, and then thanked the bird.
“You will remain the night, of course. I will have my servants bring you some fresh herring. Where will you be?”
“The water is calm, and will remain so for a time,” the gull replied. “I shall rest here in your little harbor, my lord duke. Your servant may call to me, and I will come for my meal. My name is Nereus.”
The seagull remained the night, bobbing upon the gentle swell of the sea by Alban’s home. When the duke looked out of his bedchamber window as the sun was coming up the following morning, he saw the gull rising from the harbor on his strong wings, and flying off down the coast to the realm of the Merfolk. Dressing himself, he then turned to face a small blank section of wall within his apartments. He spoke the words that Dillon had given to him. “King of Belmair, hear my call. Come to me from out yon wall.” Still he was a little startled to see Dillon stepping from the stone wall and into his chamber. He bowed. “Agenor wants us to come with all possible haste. He may have found something for you, Majesty.”
“I hope his news is good,” Dillon said. “Sapphira is driving me mad. She is beautiful. She is uninhibited, but she is the most boring female I have ever known. Even my littlest sister, Marzina, has more of interest to say than Sapphira. Her only virtue is that she gives me pleasures without complaint.”
“It is early,” the duke said. “Have you eaten? Would you like breakfast?”
“Let us go and see what Agenor has to say first. I will not enjoy my food otherwise. We will use Shadow magic today. Step beneath my cloak,” the king said.
“What if the tide is in?” Alban asked nervously.<
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Dillon smiled. “A good thought,” he paused. “And now it is fixed.” He draped his white cloak about them, and when Alban opened his eyes again, for he had instinctively closed them, they were standing upon a crescent of sand before Agenor’s rock. “Good morrow, Agenor!” Dillon called to the merman.
“Ah, so ’twas your magic that swept the water back,” Agenor said. “My messenger isn’t even back yet, and here you are. Come up and join me upon my rock, and let the waters flow back in. It is my young daughter, Antea, who brings the news I believe you seek, king of Belmair.”
With a casual wave of his hand, Dillon set himself and Duke Alban up upon Agenor’s huge flat-topped stone seat of office. He next produced two pillows, and they sat, one on each side of the chief of the Merfolk. “I believe we are ready to hear what it is your daughter has to say to us, Agenor.”
“Antea, come into the cave,” Agenor called in a booming voice.
They watched as the mermaid swam beneath the crystal blue-green waters and over the pale sugar sands into the cave. When she popped to the surface, they saw a very pretty girl with long, thick, blond hair and bright sea-green eyes. “Good morrow, Father,” Antea said. “Good morrow, my lords.”
“This is the king, Daughter,” Agenor said, gesturing with a hand to Dillon. “Tell him exactly what you saw, and where you saw it.”
“Three days ago as I swam beneath the western seas I came upon a group of large bubbles, and within these bubbles were villages, and in one, a castle. I knew at once it was magic. As I watched I observed mortal folk moving back and forth within the village bubbles, living their lives in an ordinary fashion.”
“Were some of these folk silver-haired, Antea?” Dillon asked the mermaid.
“Indeed, Majesty, all the men seemed to be and some of the women, but most of the women were dark or fair,” Antea said.
“Did you swim near the castle?” Duke Alban inquired.
“I did! It is most beautiful, but it is set within a garden. As I swam closer to view the garden I saw a girl, and she saw me. She smiled, and then she spoke to me in the silent language. I was very surprised, but then I thought that all of it is surely magic-made, my lords, so the folk within, while looking mortal, are nonetheless magic.”
“Did the girl tell you who they were?” Dillon asked.
“Nay, we spoke but briefly, but then someone called her. She did not want them to see me, and told me to go. But she asked me to return again. She says she goes to the garden at the same time each day,” Antea said.
“Did you hear the girl’s name when it was called?” Dillon said.
Antea nodded her head. “But she had already told me her name, and I told her mine. Her name is Cinnia.”
Dillon groaned as if he had been injured. Then he took a deep breath, and asked Antea, “Tell me what this girl looked like.”
“She was as pale as the moonlight with beautiful long sable-black hair and spring-green eyes. When I first saw her she was digging in a great box of what looked like real earth such as I have seen from the sea. It was not sand.”
“It would appear that my daughter has found the queen,” Agenor said quietly.
Dillon nodded, and then he said, “Antea, I need you to return to that castle. Will you go for me? I know it is far, but you have already earned a great reward for your discovery. And you will have anything I can give you if you will continue to aid me.”
“My lord, I will gladly aid you for naught,” Antea said, and Agenor beamed with pride at his daughter’s kind heart.
“You must go back to the bubble with the castle, and wait until you see Cinnia again. Let no one else see you. Speak to no one else. Speak only to her,” Dillon said.
“What shall I say, Majesty?” Antea asked him.
“Ask her if she is the daughter of Fflergant, and wife to Dillon. If she tells you she is then say to her, the king counsels you to patience. Now that he has found you, he will find a way to rescue you. Can you remember that, Antea?”
“I can, my lord,” the young mermaid said. “I will go now with your permission, and my father’s permission.”
“Be careful, Antea,” Agenor advised her, “and come back as soon as you have delivered your message.”
With a saucy flip of her tail Antea dove beneath the sea and swam swiftly from her father’s cave. She left behind her a small spray of golden foam.
“My mermen and I can help to retrieve your wife from beneath the sea,” Agenor said to the king. “You will take a sailing vessel to the spot just above this castle. We will then retrieve the queen and bring her to the surface.”
“But how can she possibly breathe? She will drown before she reaches the surface,” Duke Alban said.
“Not if she is carrying a piece of our magic seaweed. It will enable her to breathe beneath the water as she rises up,” Agenor explained. “But how will we get through into the bubble without destroying it and alerting the Yafir? These folk are the Yafir, Majesty, are they not?”
Dillon nodded. “I will give you a spell that will let you pass through the bubble when you need to, and return back, as well. You will leave something in the castle garden when you retrieve my wife.” He smiled wickedly and chuckled.
“I will send for Duke Alban, and he will send to you, when my daughter returns again, Majesty,” Agenor said.
Dillon nodded, and then standing with Alban he threw his cloak about them, and they were gone. Agenor shook his head in wonder, and then he noticed that where there had been two large silk cushions there were now two baskets of pineapples. He smiled broadly. In the end his aid would cost more than fresh fruit, but then the king was aware of that, he knew.
* * *
“WE HAVE FOUND her,” Dillon told his father, his uncle and Nidhug as they spoke within a sealed room inside his castle. He had immediately sent for Kaliq and Cirillo when he returned from Duke Alban’s. “Agenor has come up with a plan to rescue her.” And he explained carefully.
“When Ahura Mazda finds her gone he will come here to retrieve her,” Cirillo said. “And then you will have the difficulty of the Belmairans wanting to reject her.”
“He will not come if he does not realize that he has not lost her,” Dillon said slyly.
They looked at one another and finally to Dillon, confused.
And then the great Shadow Prince began to smile. “It is brilliant!” he said.
“What is brilliant?” Nidhug asked.
“Of course!” Cirillo exclaimed.
“Of course what?” Nidhug demanded to know.
“We will substitute Sapphira for Cinnia,” Dillon said.
“He will see through it at once. For one thing her eyes are darker than the queen’s,” the dragon pointed out. “And she will protest, and tell the Yafir who she is.”
“I can change the color of her eyes with my magic,” Dillon said. “And I will release her womb from my infertility charm while placing a confusion spell upon her. She will not be certain who she really is at all, and her temporary loss of memories will be put down to the fall she will appear to have taken in the gardens. Sapphira’s lustful nature will delight Ahura Mazda, and he will impregnate her. Then he will cosset and spoil her as is his nature with his women when their bellies swell. And he shall have his heart’s desire of her. A daughter! Her memories of who she really is will return then, but I suspect she will not care at that point.”
“It is a daring plan,” Kaliq said. “And it is well though
t out. But you need to do more in this matter than just rescue your wife.”
“I am aware of that,” Dillon replied. “When I regain possession of my wife I will announce that I am taking Sapphira in marriage. We will plan a great wedding feast for all the kingdom. The false Sapphira will announce she is changing her name to Cinnia in honor of my first wife.”
“And you will not set Belmairan against Belmairan over the matter of you taking your old wife back. As far as all of Belmair will be concerned, Cinnia, daughter of Fflergant, was kidnapped by the Yafir, and is lost to you. And King Dillon has taken Sapphira, niece of Tullio of Beldane, as his new wife. Sapphira in a grand gesture to honor her predecessor takes her name. Aye, it is wickedly clever,” Nidhug approved.
“The mix of Shadow and faerie blood, it would seem, is a good one,” Cirillo noted.
“When I tell Mother she will be so proud.”
“I do not mean to allow this incident to thwart my plans to bring Belmairan and Yafir together again as one people,” Dillon said. “Ahura Mazda is too filled with bitterness to help me attain my goal. We will have to find another Yafir to become lord. He cannot be the only one capable of negotiation for his people.”
“Cinnia may be able to help us when she returns,” Nidhug said. “She has been with them for just over a year now, and has surely learned a great deal about them.”
“And what is to become of Ahura Mazda?” Kaliq said. “He does not appear to be a man who will step aside for another, even blood kin. We will see he loses favor with the Yafir, and when he has, factions will arise to depose him. When that happens we will choose he who will be the next lord, and see that he gains his people’s favor.”
The Sorceress of Belmair Page 35