She sat down upon the window seat and looked out at the pink hues of the approaching dawn rising above the distant mountains. Since the beginning of time women sat vigil for their men to return from war—waiting, praying, hoping to spot their love's familiar face amongst the others marching home.
And when they did not...
Meav swallowed hard and blanched at the thought.
A light, drizzling rain was wetting the earth, droplets pelting the leaves like constant tears ... like her tears, which now slipped silently down her cheeks. She wiped them with the backs of her hands and rose from the seat.
Passing through the great hall on her way back to her chamber, she stopped to watch the flames dance in the large stone fireplace. The hearth had been cleaned ... every inch of the castle had been scrubbed, polished, and food prepared for the coronation the day after tomorrow.
She glanced around at the potted citrus trees that had been placed about the room, as well as the other foliage and decorative flowers. Slowly she walked over to where two thrones had been placed on the dais; one for the king, the other for his queen.
Meav sat in Rule's throne, caressing the ornate carvings on the arms with the tip of her finger. She snuggled her bottom down deep into the red velvet cushion; ‘twas soft and inviting, especially to one who had not slept. Meav's fatigue finally claimed her against her will. Resting her head back on the plush pillow she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
* * * *
"I see them, my lord ... the enemy approaches,” Olin warned from his vantage point. “I count about thirty ... maybe a few more."
Rule saluted Olin, who sat high in a tree with his bow and arrow ready. Strapping on his helmet, Rule turned to Ibrehem. “Are the snares all in place?"
"Aye, my lord."
Rule gave a taut nod of approval. “And the men all prepared?"
"Aye, to that as well, my lord."
Rule squared his shoulders. “And what of you, are you ready, my friend?"
"As ready as I will ever be, my lord.” Ibrehem slipped his blade from its sheath.
"Then it begins.” Rule grabbed his shield and raised his sword. “Death to our foe."
Rule and his men waited until the Jabrians came closer before they used their warring tactics. The first twenty men captured were either caught in the snares and left to hang by the ankle, or were shot with arrows. Those that took up the rear, after witnessing their comrade's demise, began firing the muskets.
'Twas then Rule, Ibrehem, Bulwark and several other soldiers rushed from their hiding places and challenged the Jabrians with swords and daggers.
Silver blades clashed against flesh and firearms. Many of the Jabrians, never having fought before, just dropped their weapons and ran away. ‘Twas then that Rule's men confiscated the abandoned guns and turned them on the enemy.
Bulwark, his attention on slitting a foe's throat, failed to notice another that came up behind, intending to fire the musket at his head.
Olin, seeing his friend in danger, aimed his arrow and shot the enemy through the back. The Jabrian fell at Bulwark's feet.
'Twas then Bulwark noticed his would be assassin. Looking up at the tree branch where Olin sat, he smiled. “I thank you, mate."
Olin saluted. “Cannot be making Grendel cry for her brother, now can I?” He smiled broadly. “I promised her I would watch your back."
Bulwark saluted in return. “I made her the same promise."
Ibrehem felled three Jabrians with their own weapons.
Rule also reached for a gun and opened fire on the enemy.
Between the Jabrians that ran like cowards and those lying dead, the only ones left were the ones hanging by their ankles from the snares.
"And what shall we do with this bunch of buffoons, my lord,” Bulwark questioned.
Rule scrutinized the group of ten. Most were lads in their teens. So frightened were they, that some had wet themselves. Throwing his head back, Rule laughed heartily. “Send the whelps back to their mothers."
Bulwark nodded, than motioned to the soldiers sitting in the trees to help him.
One by one the Jabrians were freed from the snares. With their hands tied behind their backs and their soiled breeches pulled down around their ankles, the humiliated lads waddled away.
Olin arched a brow. “I have heard wild bores love tender flesh."
Bulwark cupped a hand over his manhood. “Ack, the thought makes me cringe."
Olin began to chuckle. “Not as much as they will when they walk into their village half naked."
Bulwark slapped his friend on the back. “I would have rather fallen in battle then to face such humiliation."
"Aye, my thoughts as well, my friend,” Olin countered.
Rule arched a brow. “I believe our work is through here. So whenever you two are done with your antics, we can leave."
The men nodded and together they confiscated all the guns, pouches and powder horns of ammunition from the dead men.
Rule looked around, accessing the spoils of war. He sighed heavily. It was never a pretty site, even for the victor.
Then suddenly the quiet battlefield was broken by the blast of a gun ... the lone shot broke the silence, taking them all by surprise.
Rule felt like he had been struck by lightening. White heat coursed through his body ... his eyes widened and he gasped for air. Slowly he pivoted on trembling legs to find an elderly man peering from the bushes with a musket in his hands.
"That was for my son, Shell,” the old man spat.
Bulwark took aim and shot the Jabrian clean between the eyes.
Rule's world spun, he stumbled, and then hit the ground hard
Ibrehem ran to Rule's side and cradled his head in his hands.
Rule looked up into his friend's agonized face. “Take me to Meav,” he choked before everything went black.
* * * *
Meav's eyes shot open. The searing pain made her bolt upright in her seat. Clutching her chest she rose from Rule's throne and staggered to the stairs.
"My lady, what is it?” Wesley said, coming from behind and taking her arm.
Meav turned, feeling the blood drain from her face. “Rule,” was all she whispered.
'Twas then that Wesley caught her before she collapsed to the floor.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Both Grendel and Zailia stood at the top of the stairs and screamed in unison.
Zailia was the first to reach Wesley's side. “Merciful heavens, what happened?"
Wesley scooped Meav in his arms and carried her up the stairs. “I do not know, lass ... I just came in from standing guard on the night shift and saw my lady stumbling to the stairs."
Grendel ran ahead to open the chamber door. “Poor thing is so distraught,” she said over her shoulder. “Has neither eaten or slept."
Wesley placed Meav gently down on the bed, his heart going out to the beautiful young woman.
Zailia ran to fetch a compress. “We should have stayed awake with her."
Grendel covered Meav with a blanket. “I think she is still suffering from shock over what happened yesterday by the river."
Zailia returned with a damp cloth and sat at the edge of the bed. Gently she placed the compress on Meav's forehead. “She fears for Rule's life."
Wesley nodded in agreement. “'Tis the way of it, I believe. Just before she collapsed she whispered his name.” He thought of his own sweet, Becka. Could she be fretting in the same way for him? The idea that he had caused his love such pain filled him with guilt and sorrow. As soon as he could leave for home he would, and straight into Becka's arms; never to venture far again.
Zailia pushed a copper tendril from Meav's cheek. “Meav, Meav, can you hear me?” She gently caressed Meav's face. “Oh, may the Devine help us all. My own heart aches as well, with the thought of Ibrehem surrounded by danger. Heaven forbid he should never return."
Meav stirred, blinking her eyes into focus, looking up at the three of them, there faces
etched with concern. “Why are all of you staring at me like that?"
"You collapsed, my lady,” Wesley explained. “Thankfully I caught you before you hit the floor."
Meav closed her eyes, searching her thoughts for some recollection. As her mind cleared, the dreaded feeling that something had happened to Rule once more surfaced. Her eyes shot open. “I felt him ... his pain ... I know something horrible has happened to my husband."
Zailia took Meav's hand. “'Tis natural you would feel such a way. I also fear for Ibrehem."
"And I for my brother and Victor,” Grendel added. “This has truly been a torturous night for us all."
"Your husband is a wise man, my lady, who calculates every obstacle that might crop up,” Wesley comforted. “He does not tread blindly into any circumstance, and is fully aware of the dangers and mishaps of war. Never would he take unnecessary chances."
Meav sat up, for an instant the room spun. She shook her head to clear it. “How do you know this, Wesley, when you have never fought beside him."
Wesley moved to stand by the window, gazing out. The season's earthy hues decorated the land, and a new day began. What would it bring? “'Tis true I have not been with him in battle, but I have witnessed his caution."
"When,” Meav probed.
"Rule came to me with his suspicions about Lorna ... asked I follow her about the castle. ‘Twas how I discovered she spiked Bulwark's bread with sleeping herbs.” Wesley looked back at Meav. “When I warned him of Lorna's actions, he immediately devised a plan for...."
"...for Bulwark to fake his slumber and for the rest of you to hide in the bushes,” Meav finished his sentence.
Wesley nodded. “So you see, my lady, nothing gets past your husband."
Meav bit her bottom lip nervously. “But I felt it ... I could almost..."
Wesley turned again to glance out the window. “They are here, my lady."
Zailia stood and rushed to the casement. “'Tis true, my lady."
Meav ripped aside the blanket and bounded off the bed. In her haste, the room tilted and spun. She reached for the bedpost to steady herself.
Grendel ran to her aid. “It might be best if you remain in bed, my lady."
Meav swallowed hard. “Nay, I will greet my husband upon his return from battle, as a wife should.” Taking a deep breath she slowly made her way to the door and down the stairs.
Once out by the castle's path, Meav stood with outward calm waiting for the band of soldiers to round the corner, but inside her heart slammed against her chest.
Ibrehem was the first to appear.
Zailia let out a cry of relief and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms, and smothering his face with kisses.
Meav frowned, panic rising to choke her. Why did Rule not lead his men?
Then there came Bulwark and Olin. Grendel's feet took flight as she ran to her brother and betrothed, tears of joy falling from her eyes as she hugged each warrior.
Meav pressed her lips together, daring not to blink an eye. If she did, she knew her tears would fall in torrents. Where was Rule? She squared her shoulders and stretched on tiptoe, not wanting to miss her husband's face. Surely he had to be next?
But he was not.
Instead Ustin and several others marched passed, worn and sweaty.
Meav shifted uncomfortably, trying to be patient and brave ... aye, she would be brave, like Rule. She lifted her chin and stood tall to greet her husband. He was probably taking up the rear, thinking of his men at all times and watching their backs.
'Twas then she spotted him ... not marching but being carried by four soldiers on a stretcher of woven palm leaves.
Fear numbed her and her mouth was dry with dread. Swallowing hard the sickly knot lodged deep in her throat, Meav ran to him.
The bearers gently placed the stretcher on the ground.
Meav knelt in the damp earth. “Nay, tell me this is not so,” she choked, pushing dark strands of hair from his forehead. “Rule,” her voice broke. Her fingers trembled as she stroked his handsome face.
Ibrehem came down on one knee beside her. “He was shot in the back and has lost a lot of blood, my lady."
"Rule,” she sobbed. “Please, milord, do not leave me.” She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips. “Someone find Wysteria.” She looked over at Ibrehem. “Fetch her now ... and hurry!"
Ibrehem turned to Ustin. “Go, find the healer."
Ustin nodded and quickly departed.
"You promised me you would come back to me, milord,” Meav whispered close to his ear. “You cannot break your word, my love. I won't let you."
Her sweet voice filled with anguish penetrated Rule's pain. His eyes fluttered open and were met by his wife's terrified gaze.
Meav's tears fell from her eyes, dropping softly onto Rule's lips.
He licked the moisture with a slow swipe of his tongue. “Your tears are salty,” he whispered.
"Oh, Rule,” she gasped, caressing the line of his jaw. “Wysteria is on her way, she will help you."
He grimaced with pain. “Meav,” he said hoarsely. “I want you to listen to me."
Meav traced the outline of his mouth. “Hush, save your strength."
Even now, with pain enveloping his entire body, her soft touch brought him comfort. “Nay, I need you to listen."
She nodded. Shards of pain and fear shone in her eyes. “I am listening."
Rule cleared his throat. “You, my queen, must lead this kingdom in my place."
"Nay, I will not ... ‘tis you who will lead this isle,” she protested through her tears.
"I am so sorry, my lady,” he whispered, his own eyes growing moist.
"There is nothing to be sorry for, milord ... you will get well and be king and we will live together forever and ever,” she babbled hysterically.
Rule, with his last ounce of strength squeezed her hand. “'Tis not to be for us, love, and I need your promise..."
"Nay, if I do not promise, you cannot go,” she interjected. Quickly she looked around. “Where is Wysteria ... what is taking her so long?"
Rule gasped for breath. “Her herbs cannot help this time, Meav."
She turned back to gaze into his eyes. “Aye, they can,” she sobbed. “They have to."
"Levena ... do you promise?” he choked.
Meav's tears slipped down her face. “This is not how ‘tis supposed to be, milord ... The Prophecy says I am to save you ... Keronia's Rule."
He smiled weakly. “And you have saved their rule, my lady ... Devora is gone."
"Nay, that is not how I thought...” her words caught in her throat ... but ‘twas how the words were written. Fear gripped her heart like a vice. All this time she thought she was destined to save him, but ‘twas Keronia's rule not Rule himself that was meant to be saved. All of them were just pawns ... Meav's mother included ... for what was foretold hundreds of years ago. Their lives did not matter. They were just players in a story, and now the curtain closed. Suddenly resentment filled her heart. The whole thing ... all their efforts had turned out to be a cruel joke.
"Do I have your promise, Meav,” he whispered, hanging on to the last thread of life.
She looked deep into his eyes. “Aye, you have my promise."
"Ibrehem,” Rule choked.
Ibrehem leaned forward. “I am here, my lord."
Rule began to shiver, his body growing cold and numb. “I leave you first in command. Never let harm come to my queen."
Ibrehem blinked back his tears. “I will guard her with my life, my lord."
Both Grendel and Zailia could be heard sobbing.
"Do wa goncha,” Rule whispered.
Meav turned to Ibrehem. “What ... what did he just say?"
Ibrehem inhaled sharply. “That he is entering the silence."
"Nay, Rule ... stay with me ... please, milord, stay with me,” Meav begged.
Zailia moved forward, placing a hand on Ibrehem's shoulder and leaning down beside Meav
. “You taught me how to pray for Ibrehem's safety, and my prayers have been answered. Now I am here, my lady, for you."
"I do not need prayers, because Rule is going to be fine,” Meav said. She caressed Rule's face. “You are going to be fine, milord,” she repeated.
"Meav, Amin tialo,” Rule whispered. “Do you remember those words?"
"Aye, I do ... you proclaimed them after the first time you made love to me."
"Never forget them,” Rule choked.
"I love you too, milord ... forever."
Rule forced his eyes shut ... sparing her the sight of them staring blankly. A lone tear slipped from the corner. He felt Meav catch the drop with the tip of her finger.
Faintly he heard her voice for the last time. “I taste your sorrow, milord, as you did mine. Your tears are salty too."
His hand relaxed in hers, his heart slowed, peace enclosed around him, and then there was nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Meav's anguish was so acute she actually felt physical pain. Throwing herself on top of his body, she wept her heart out.
'Twas over ... Rule was gone.
"Come, my lady,” Ibrehem said softly. Gently he reached for Meav's arm. “There is naught to be done now."
Meav smothered Rule's quiet and serene face with tender kisses.
Again Ibrehem tried to coax her from Rule's side. “Come, my lady."
Meav's mind raced. ‘Twas Rule who should govern Keronia, not her. If only she could...
Meav stiffened, remembering the legend of Hugo Pierre Quinn. Hope resounded. Quickly she bolted to her feet shouting. “I can ... I can!"
Ibrehem stood with a frown. “What can you do, my lady?"
She turned and grabbed Ibrehem by the front of his tunic. “I can take his place."
Ibrehem placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Aye, ‘twas your promise to him ... to rule Keronia in his place. And I will help you, my lady."
"Nay, I mean, I can take his place in death,” Meav said. “Do you not remember the legend of the warrior god, Hugo Pierre Quinn? Centuries ago he granted a maiden the ability to take her dying love's place."
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