by Tamsin Baker
An opulence she had never before encountered was present everywhere she looked. Rich materials were used in every piece of furniture, the carving of the walls. Even the water feature shocked her.
“This way, please,” the King instructed, gesturing into a room leading off the main hall way.
Her belly in knots, Naylaa took a deep breath and walked towards the King and then into what was clearly a bedroom. It was decorated just like the entrance, with colorful fabrics and large, carved furniture dominated the room.
Sitting in the large bed, propped up by huge pillows, was the Queen.
“Your Highness.” Naylaa bowed again, this time to the Matriarch of their town.
Naylaa had seen the Queen once before in town when she’d first married their then Prince. She had been beautiful that day, although she looked considerably altered now.
When she rose, the healer inside Naylaa took note of all her patient’s symptoms. The Queen’s skin was sickly and pale, her limp hair hung down the sides of her face like dead leaves.
But the most worrying of her symptoms was lack of color in her once-bright green eyes. For anyone on their planet, that was not a good sign.
And the biggest drain on the Queen’s energy became obvious when Naylaa looked lower, to her large belly, swollen with child.
As far as she knew, no one in the town was aware the Queen was pregnant. Naylaa was sure that piece of exciting gossip would have found its way to her quickly. The King’s choice not to release the information of his soon-to-be-born heir’s birth did not bode well for the Queen’s state of health. Naylaa slid a glance to the King, noting the stress and worry on his face.
His wife was dying, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“I have heard you are a great healer.” The Queen said, her tone strained and weak.
“I am, your Highness.” Naylaa said as she moved to the Queen’s bedside without invitation and put her bag on the floor.
The Queen anxiously rubbed her belly and shifted in her bed.
“I am very scared of the birth.”
Hearing the door creak, Naylaa turned and realized the King had left them alone. He must trust her to leave her alone with the one he valued most.
Shifting into her healer mode, Naylaa poured the Queen a glass of water from the jug that stood by the bed and held it out to her.
“Drink, your Highness. You need your water more than ever.”
The Queen put the cup to her lips and drank thirstily.
Naylaa filled up the cup again and again, watching the Queen drink at least five glasses before she finally began to slow her gulping. Only then did she set the jug aside.
Why had she not been looking after herself? It wasn’t as though it was necessary to travel for her water. She had servants aplenty to bring her whatever she needed. None of this made sense.
“You know that we must drink at least a third of our body weight in water, my Queen.”
“I know.” The Queen said, her gaze shifting around as though she was a guilty child caught misbehaving.
“And more if you are with child, your Highness. Your baby needs water too.” Naylaa reminded her, though she knew she wasn’t saying anything they all hadn’t heard since they were children.
The Queen’s pale cheeks burnt crimson as she glanced away, wrapping her arms around her belly in a protective gesture that was not lost on Naylaa.
“I know you love your baby, your Highness. There is no need to fear me. May I examine you? I must cheek the health of your skin and your infant’s position.”
Naylaa waited one moment for the Queen to nod and remove her tightly wound arms.
When she finally relaxed enough to do so, Naylaa used her hands to feel the temperature and texture of the Queen’s skin, then looked into her eyes.
The she gently moved the Queen’s arms aside and felt the growing babe within her womb.
The baby’s position was completely engaged, and Naylaa stifled a frustrated groan.
They were out of time.
“You are severely in need of water and green foods, your Highness. Your skin is not nourished and your eyes barely have any color.”
The Queen laid back on the pillows and closed her eyes.
“Your babe is almost ready to come. It will be here in only a few days.”
The Queen began to cry, silent tears sliding down her pale cheeks.
“I won’t survive the birth, will I?”
No, she wouldn’t. Not in her current state of ill health. And the baby would probably die along with her.
Naylaa straightened her spine against the battle to come. She would not lie to her Queen, but neither was she giving up hope of saving her patient.
“Why have you waited so long to ask for help, your Highness?”
The Queen’s lip trembled as she struggled to talk under the weight of her emotions.
She tried once, then stopped, wiping at the tears that still flowed down her cheeks.
“I felt foolish complaining in the beginning. I was so sick all the time I couldn’t keep anything down. Not even water... Thh...eenn it got so much worse and I didn’t know what to do. My husband wanted to ask for help but I was too embarrassed. The time just slipped by.... and I am so ashamed.” She hung her head and wrapped her arms tighter around her belly.
Relief and anger washed through Naylaa in alternating waves. She could have guided the Queen into good health very easily in the beginning, if only she’d asked for help.
But she was here now, and there was still time to heal her, if she invoked help herself. Something she was loathe to do.
“I will instruct your food preparer to give you only certain green vegetables today, which are high in the nutrients you need, and I will give her a powder to mix into them as well. Keep drinking your water. As much as you can swallow.”
The Queen sat up straighter and wiped away the tears leaking from her eyes. “Will it be enough? Can you do anything else for me?”
Filling the glass to the brim, Naylaa handed her more water to drink as her foot began to tap on the floor with the inevitable collapsing down on her.
Naylaa sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility on her shoulders as she began taking herbs out of her bag to keep her irritable body busy.
Naylaa knew what the Queen was asking of her.
The Queen wanted Bronte to visit her, to help her heal. Naylaa had resisted almost everyone’s requests for Bronte’s power over the years, but knowing how close the Queen and her baby were to death tipped the scales in her favor.
“I cannot force Bronte do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She warned the Queen, because it was true. Bronte was as stubborn as she was.
Naylaa looked into the imploring eyes of her Queen and she knew Bronte would help. The Queen’s eyes grew greener by the moment with the prospect of hope.
“Would you ask him? I don’t want my baby to die.”
Naylaa looked down at the hand that stretched out to cover her own. “I will.”
The Queen squeezed her hand, her fingers still cold but no longer clammy. “Thank you so much, Naylaa.”
Naylaa’s chest tightened at the thought of the next step she needed to take―bringing Bronte into town and exposing him to the people who both loved and feared him.
But before she did anything, she needed to make the Queen understand that Bronte’s safety was of the utmost importance.
“For my Unicorn’s safety I will come at night, if I do at all. Also, if Bronte agrees, you must make sure he is unharmed and untouched, your Highness.”
The Queen nodded fervently. “Anything you want. My husband will see to it.”
Naylaa sighed again, giving the Queen’s hand another squeeze.
“I will speak to your food preparer and then go straight to Bronte.”
After bowing herself out, she did as she had promised, and went to the kitchen before exiting the castle. She then turned her feet to the path that would take her to a hidden cave by the river. To ask a fav
or of her bonded magical Unicorn for the future heir to their town’s royal throne.
NAYLAA MADE HER WAY to the large cave that Bronte called home, in the forest on the outskirts of the town. The land was densely surrounded by rocky outcrops, tall trees and shrubbery.
She brushed past sharp rocks as she made her way up to Bronte, making a high shrill noise in her throat. He knew that call well, and it let him know she was coming.
Naylaa glanced behind herself again to make sure she wasn’t being followed, as she moved closer.
Bronte was worth a lot of money dead.
The stallion trotted onto a ledge just outside his cave and whinnied in greeting.
Her breath caught in her chest and her life energy began to buzz. The animal in front of her was tall, black and in the prime of his life.
His magnificence never ceased to amaze her. Anyone who gazed upon him was overwhelmed by his beauty.
For Naylaa, because of the bond they shared, she felt his presence like a warm hand sliding around her rib cage and touching her heart.
“My beautiful friend,” she said as she ran her hands over the stallion’s nose, head and neck.
She rarely touched the long, white, coiled horn that grew from the center of his forehead. That was where all of his magic and healing power was found.
Naylaa, I’ve missed you. Shall we go for a run?
She responded to the question from Bronte, resting her head on his neck.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t just a visit. I need your help.”
He grunted.
Of course. Ask me anything.
“The Queen is very weak and sick. She is due to birth her first baby in a few days and will never survive the labor. Will you help me heal her?”
Bronte shifted.
Yes.
Despite the strong answer, Naylaa could feel the conflict within him and she knew it was partly her fault. She’d taught him since they were both childrenthat the world was full of dangerous people who would kill him if they had the chance.
Yet despite all that she had told him, the intense pull to do good was stronger than his self-preservation.
Naylaa had told an untruth when she’d told the Queen that she wasn’t sure if her United would help. Bronte had never said “no” to her and she didn’t know if he was able to.
I want to help, Naylaa.
A jolt went through them both when Bronte spoke to her again and Naylaa’s energy sparked to life. “Thank you, Bronte.”
Leaning forward, she looked deep into his eyes and kissed his nose.
Bronte walked back into the safety of the cave, circled the place he usually slept and lay down.
Naylaa followed him into the darkness and lay against his belly, her head nestled into his shoulder. Bronte didn’t communicate within her mind this time, but Naylaa felt his love for her flowing through him. She snuggled closer. Knowing she was safe and feeling as happy as she ever did, she closed her eyes.
“I can’t believe we’re really going down, Bronte. It’s been so long since you were anywhere near the town.”
It’s important and I’m excited.
Naylaa nodded and lay a hand over her belly where fear coiled deep inside.
“I know you are, my friend. I know...” Naylaa bit her lip and tried hard not to let her fear overwhelm her.
A part of her was always guilt-ridden that she left her beautiful United alone so much. Bronte was meant to be part of a herd, surrounded by family and other Unicorns.
But until both of their mates made themselves known, it was safer for Bronte to stay in the safety of the cave, and her, in town.
A shudder ran through her as she faced what she was about to do. She was going to take her beloved United into the place she had protected him from for so many years. And worst of all, she had no control over the outcome.
She could only trust the King that he would keep them safe, and hope that this risk was one worth taking.
Chapter Two.
A soldier on night watch stepped out to greet them, surprising Naylaa and making her jump back into Bronte’s side.
It’s all right, Naylaa.
Bronte’s voice calmed her and she stepped forward once again.
The guard’s eyes widened in awe. “Thhh...ey are ex...pppecting you.”
Naylaa hesitated.
Let’s go.
The words inside her head from Bronte, and an impatient nudge of his muzzle in her back made her stumble forward. At least one of them was certain of this decision.
Naylaa nodded her head at the second guard as she walked through the open gate and across the courtyard, remembering the way.
Another soldier opened the main door into the castle for them and they stepped into the antechamber, filled with candlelight.
The pale King sat on a chair outside his wife’s bedroom, and jumped to his feet when he saw them.
“You came!” he cried out in excitement, his hands fluttering by his sides. “You both came,” he repeated, quieter this time as he took in Bronte’s form. Few people ever got to see a Unicorn in the flesh.
Naylaa stopped a few feet away from the King and Bronte’s bulk pressed against her, his head held high. The tension within his strong body transferred to hers and she placed a calming hand on his back.
I can smell her. She’s surrounded in death, Naylaa.
“Go ahead, Bronte.”
The stallion walked past the quivering King and whinnied loudly, then tossed his head restlessly.
I need to help her.
Naylaa’s eyes slid shut as the pain Bronte transmitted through their bond, lanced through her. Her stomach tightened and a cold sweat covered her arms.
All Unicorns were made to heal other creatures, but in turn, they felt their pain as if it were their own. It was a double-edged sword.
She is so close to death.
Naylaa forced herself to open her eyes, fear travelling through her. Had this all been for nothing? Were they too late?
“Is he all right?” The King asked, peering into the room from the doorway.
Naylaa sighed. “Bronte wants to help. He doesn’t like seeing people sick.”
The King waited a moment, his breath quickening before he asked the question she knew was looming.
“Then why doesn’t he help you more often? Why doesn’t he live in town?”
Naylaa turned towards her King, anger rolling in her gut. How could people not understand how dangerous this was for her beloved?
“Your Highness, you know why. If I could trust the townspeople not to touch him or hurt him, I would. Not to mention the threat to his life from outsiders. But I can’t trust anyone with him and I won’t subject Bronte to that.”
She stalked straight past the King, annoyed enough to want to shove him. How dare he make her feel selfish for keeping Bronte to herself?
“Thank you for coming,” the Queen said as she pulled herself up into a seated position. Her green eyes bulged as she watched the black Unicorn maneuver himself into position.
Bronte moved his large body and head around so he was facing the sick Queen. He then lowered his head and offered his horn to the suffering woman.
Tell her to touch me.
The Queen glanced at Naylaa, fear and wonder in her pale green eyes.
Naylaa swallowed hard. This part always made her nervous. “Just reach out and run your hand down his horn. You will feel a tingle, then we will wait whilst you both rest.”
“I won’t hurt him?” The Queen asked as she lifted her pale, boney hand off the blankets. The effort to move even that small amount showed in her strained face.
“No, but he will be depleted. We will need to rest here for a little while afterwards.”
The Queen ran her fingertips over the grooves in Bronte’s horn and it began to glow. Naylaa shuddered. She could feel the Queen’s illness in the pit of her stomach.
I’m all right, Naylaa.
Bronte gathered his power and pushed it out of his
body towards the sick woman touching him.
The Queen gasped and grabbed Bronte’s horn hard, her firm grip intensifying his power. He snuffled and snorted again, his big body quivering in both excitement and physical strain.
So ill.
Electricity wove through Naylaa’s nerves, zapping her energy and making it impossible to breathe. She gasped loudly and pressed her back to the bedroom wall. She had to get control of her breathing before she passed out.
Naylaa slid to the floor as her legs gave out, another powerful surge of pain passing through her muscles.
Bronte was saving them both.
Two single tears slid from Naylaa’s eyes. She hadn’t been honest with herself about the extent of damage to the Queen’s health. She hadn’t wanted to face the probability that she was asking Bronte for an impossible feat. She hadn’t been sure Bronte would be able to save them, even if he’d wanted to. The Queen, maybe, but Naylaa had been almost certain they would lose the child.
She could feel Bronte’s choice to give the Queen enough energy not only for herself, but for her unborn child and more tears sprung to her eyes.
The King rushed forward when the Queen screamed out in pain and arched her back, still grasping Bronte’s horn as though her life depended on it.
Which it did.
“No, don’t touch her.” Naylaa screamed at the King in desperation, putting both hands out to stop him.
He would ruin everything if he stopped the flow of energy now.
The King froze just before he reached the bed, his fists clenching at his sides.
Naylaa tried to push herself up to her feet, but couldn’t find the strength in her arms. She panted and focused on her breath. “Bronte is saving the Queen and your baby. He needs more time.”
Her head was spinning now. Her connection to Bronte was never more obvious than at this very moment.
The Queen moaned again, then let go of Bronte’s horn and fell back against her pillows. The Unicorn whinnied and sank slowly to the floor, landing in an exhausted heap.
She will heal now.
The tie to the Queen now severed, Naylaa had the strength to pull herself to her feet, though her knees wobbled and her head pounded.
“I need somewhere safe where Bronte can rest and recover.” She said to the King, though she struggled to walk on unsteady legs. She managed to get around the bed and land on her knees next to Bronte.