She didn’t even glance at him. It was as if she couldn’t force herself to look away from the sight of what she’d done, and when she did finally speak, her voice sounded flat, and hopeless. “I hit the Queen.”
Adan took two deep breaths and slowly blew them out, trying to be patent. If he wanted to find out what had transpired, he was going to have to take things slowly. “I see that. And why exactly did you hit her?”
It was as if that one simple question brought everyone out of their stupors, and all three of the other women began to speak at the same time.
“It wasn’t her fault, Adan,” Lark cried.
“She had it coming.” Laycee socked the air once more as if practicing her own punch.
Briar looked up from searching her bag. “She really was being particularly horrid, even more so than normal.”
His mother, however, ended any further comments with a voice that could have stopped a heard of Alarian wildebeests. “Your wife, and I use the term very loosely, was trying to prevent me from telling you what she’s really been up to. It won’t work, though. You’re my son, and you have a right to know what you’ve been forced to join yourself to.”
Queen Allanna swatted away her husband’s hand and stood. “She’s been hiding things, Adan. Very important things. Dark things.”
Adan turned to Lizbeth and gently tilted her chin until she had no choice but to look him in the eye. “What is she talking about, Lizard?”
Tears pooling and slowly making paths down her cheeks as she shook her head was Lizbeth’s only reply.
The Queen, however, didn’t have a problem answering. “I’ll tell you exactly what I’m talking about. She’s been deceiving you. I bet you didn’t know she’s pregnant, and not just pregnant but pregnant with an abomination, a Spiritmaster. Everybody knows about it except you.”
His heart soared. A child? His child? He was going to become a father? Could it be true?
He didn’t dare believe his mother’s words. “You’re wrong. Lizbeth wouldn’t keep such news from me.”
The queen smirked. “Are you sure?
He looked directly at Lizbeth and saw the truth written on his wife’s face. “You are? You really, truly are, aren’t you?”
Lizbeth nodded. “I wanted to tell you, really I did. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment.”
He looked at his sister, and she looked just as guilty as Lizbeth did. “You knew, too, didn’t you?”
Lark grimaced. “Only for a short time.”
Adan didn’t even have to ask Briar or Laycee. Both of their faces were bright red and they refused to make eye contact with him. He turned toward his friends. “And did all of you know and not tell me either?”
“Lark let it slip a few days ago.” Sarco was the first to answer. “I would’ve told you, but I promised your sister I wouldn’t.”
Uthiel threw up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t know until this very morning. I swear.”
Adan glared at the little gnome. “And you?”
Leeky shifted back and forth from one foot to the other. “What the pollinated pointer finger on a professional pickle tickler are ya thinking, lad? Of course, I knew. My woman would never keep secrets from me.”
The Queen cackled. “See, I told you so. And she refuses to rid herself of it. I told her it wasn’t acceptable. No son of mine would allow such evil to be born and someday sit upon his father’s throne. Make her kill it. Make her kill it now before it gets too big and powerful. Do it for your people. Do it for Alaria. And if she refuses, then lock her away, discard her, and take another wife, one of your choosing. A wife who will bear you many fine barbarian sons, free of this one’s taint. If you are to become King, it’s your duty, your responsibility.”
“Do what you wish with me, my lord.” Though her voice was barely louder than a whisper, Adan heard Lizbeth’s words loud and clear. “But I will not harm our child or allow him to be harmed by anyone. Not even you.”
He wasn’t sure he could get his own words past the emotion swelling his throat, but he had to try. He captured one of Lizbeth’s cold hands within his own and faced his parents. “All my life I’ve been groomed to become King, to sit upon the throne and rule over our people. If you really believe I must have my own child slain to be worthy to do that, then someone else can have the honor. It’s no fault of the child’s that Spiritmaster blood runs through his veins.”
He glared at his mother. “The days of fearing those whose powers we don’t understand are over. Spiritmasters are respected now, Mother, not feared, nor shunned, nor hunted, nor punished. Look at your own daughter. She’s an instructor at this very school and she’s well loved. It’s a legacy I gladly give my child, and one he has a right to be proud of. I’ll be honored to call him my son, and you should be happy to call yourself his grandmother.”
Adan started to turn with a hand firmly at Lizbeth’s elbow but hesitated when his mother appeared to be working up for another tirade.
The Queen opened her mouth, but the King stopped her with his own words as he furiously patted her hand. “Now, now Allanna, calm yourself. You know what yelling does to your blood pressure. Don’t say anything more you may come to regret later. After all, the boy does have a valid point. The Spiritmaster bloodline comes directly from you, and you should be proud of it. Why, you might even consider what he said to be a compliment.”
She pushed her husband’s hand away. “She thinks she’s won because she’s turned my son against me. Well, she hasn’t. You’ll see, you’ll all see. Nobody disrespects my wishes the way that little usurper has and gets away with it. Nobody!”
How could he have been born from the womb of this woman? They couldn’t be further apart in word, thought, or deed, even if they’d been complete strangers, let alone mother and son. Part of him felt sorry for her, knowing the story behind her own father’s flee from injustice and her subsequent fears of being punished for what he’d been. But this time she’d gone too far. This time there would be no looking past her hate. This time he would choose his wife and his child over god, queen, or country.
This time when Adan turned with Lizbeth in tow, he didn’t look back.
****
Adan was angry. It flowed from him and filled every crack and crevice of the room. Not that Lizbeth needed an oppressive feeling to tell her that.
Before they’d arrived at his high tower suite and the door had clicked closed behind them, she had known. She would have known even if he hadn’t glared at her and whispered, “Not one word,” as he firmly took her by the hand and walked her from the ballroom.
The stiffness of his posture, the tightness of his lips, the short snorts of air like a penned-up bull wanting to get out to pasture gave it away. Not to mention, she had always known he would not like being the last to find out about their child.
Because she did know this, it surprised her when the sound of Adan’s hurt instead of angry voice startled her. “Why?”
Lizbeth closed her eyes and wished she were anywhere but face to face with her barbarian husband.
“What did I ever do, other than kill your stupid rabbit when I was a child, to make you trust me so little? And not only distrust me enough to refrain from telling me I’m to become a father, but then to put enough trust in everyone else in the Academy to tell them. What part of those actions did you think right, Lizbeth?”
She shivered though she wasn’t cold. As a matter of fact, she was so warm, tiny droplets of sweat worked their way down her back. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes riveted on the small tic Adan had suddenly developed on the right side of his mouth. “I meant to tell you, really I did. It was just never the right time.”
Adan shook his head, the tic becoming even more pronounced. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Lizbeth. How far along are you, and how did you even get pregnant? I thought that spell you females say every day is supposed to prevent that.”
She sighed. He really did have a right to kno
w. What she wasn’t sure she could do, however, was explain it adequately. “I probably got pregnant the very first time we were…umm, intimate.” She held up a hand. “And before you say anything, yes, the PDUP spell usually does prevent that sort of thing from happening, but I didn’t plan on sleeping with you that night, remember? And, well, I just plain forgot to cast it. As far as why I didn’t tell you as soon as I knew…” Lizbeth hesitated, took another deep breath, then continued. “I was afraid you would send me away.”
Adan got a confused look on his face and scratched his head. “Send you away?”
Outside thunder rumbled in the distance, and he shook his head once more. “I wish Lark would stop doing that, it’s making me crazy. This evening has been difficult enough without a storm sweeping in.”
Heat wicked up Lizbeth’s neck until her cheeks burned with it. “It’s probably not Lark this time.” Her hand protectively slid down to her abdomen. “Our son tends to do that when he gets upset.”
“Our son?” Adan’s voice gentled, and his face relaxed a bit.
Lizbeth could once more see the little boy he’d been long ago. She wanted to go to him and hold him, but she still had a lot of explaining to do. She stiffened her spine, and her resolve. “I thought if you knew I was with child, you’d send me to Alaria, and I couldn’t allow you to do that. It’s very important I become an enchantress, Adan, for all of our sakes. I must stay here long enough to learn how to enchant all the talismans of protection.”
He looked at her as if he were at least trying to understand. “You don’t think I’m barbarian enough to protect us, Lizbeth? Have I really failed so miserably as your husband?”
“No, no, no, no, no, that’s not what I mean at all.” Lizbeth began pacing. “I have no doubt you can protect us from almost anything, but you can’t protect us from evil you can’t see, Adan. That takes magic.”
Adan laughed, but there was no real humor to the sound. “What evil are you so afraid of? It’s time to put away childish fears and grow up. There haven’t been monsters for centuries now, and even the dragons you’re so afraid of have become mostly docile these days.”
He puffed out his chest and rested his hand on his claymore. “I have all the magic I need in the strength of my arm and the steel of my blade. I don’t need your help to protect our family. You should be concerning yourself with the running of the household and leaving manly matters, such as protection, to me. Oh, and while I’m thinking about it, there will be no more going back to the dormitory for you. My wife and my child stays with me, and that’s final.”
Anger flared and though she should probably not provoke him if she wanted him to see her side, she simply couldn’t help herself. “Manly matters? And stay with you? I think not. I’ve been betrothed to you all my life and not once have you ever protected me from anything. I’m safer in my dorm with virtual strangers. Not only have you not protected me, but you praise those who have done me harm.”
For a moment, he looked surprised then his eyes narrowed. “Who has harmed you that I didn’t protect you from? Your father? Your brothers? How was I to know if that was the case?”
She wanted to scream. Instead, she calmly looked her husband in the eye. “My father was a wonderful man, and so are my brothers. It was your mother and that horrible instructor you’re so fond of, Master Seiger. Do you want to know what he’s really like?”
She stiffened her spine and took a deep breathe. “He used to lock me in a trunk if I got an answer about you wrong, and your mother didn’t believe me when I told her. She called me a liar.”
Lizbeth wrapped both hands across her stomach, and hot tears coursed down her cheeks. She swiped them away. “No one will ever put my child in a trunk, not ever.”
Adan’s face crumpled. “He locked you in a trunk?”
Lizbeth nodded.
Adan shook his head. “I’d almost believe it of my mother. She’s not a nice person, never has been, even to her own children. I’ve always thought it was a ploy she used to protect herself from being hurt. Her father was a Spiritmaster who was hunted down and executed right before her eyes, you know? She and Grandmother barely escaped and were forced to live in poverty for years. She fears and hates them. But Master Seiger? I know that man better than I do my own father. He’d never harm a fly, let alone lock a little girl in a trunk. Why would you say such a thing?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Granted, I’m angry that you withheld the fact that we are to become parents, but don’t compound your mistake with untruths.”
She couldn’t breathe. “You don’t believe me?”
Again, Adan shook his head. “How can you expect me to believe such a wild story, Lizbeth? If there were even a grain of truth to it, you’d have told someone long before now. I’ve no choice but to doubt you. Your motivation is obviously an attempt to shift the focus from the fact you betrayed my trust. It’s not going to work.”
Anger bubbled forth and Lizbeth seethed. Outside lightning streaked across the nighttime sky and thunder boomed overhead.
Adan raised his voice an octave. “I’m sorry Mother has been horrid to you, and you’re right, I haven’t protected you as I should’ve. But making up stories about a feeble old man who isn’t even here to defend himself isn’t going to help the situation. A relationship must be built on trust if it’s to survive. You didn’t even trust me enough to tell me about the baby. How on Albrath can I trust anything else you have to say now?”
Lizbeth stared, so stunned she could hardly respond. “So, that’s how it’s to be? I finally gather enough courage to confide in you and you think I’m lying?” Tears burned her eyes and throat. “Well, then, if you don’t believe me, why don’t you just go ask him? He seemed very proud of his techniques at the time. I have no doubt he’d be glad to regale you with the tale.”
Adan glared at her and Lizbeth forced herself not to cower.
“Perhaps I will do just that.” Adan huffed. “God Draka knows I need to get out of here before we both say more we’ll regret.” He shook his finger at her. “But, know this, my lady, when I get back, we’re going to sit down and have a rational conversation. I won’t tolerate being betrayed, mistrusted, or lied to ever again, Lizbeth. I’d rather live alone.”
He headed toward the door. “Perhaps a few turns of the hourglass alone is just what we both need. What’s really important to you, Lizbeth? Your silly magic nonsense and keeping secrets or your marriage? If you can’t trust me enough to take care of us without magic, if you can’t trust me enough not to deceive me at every turn, if you can’t trust me enough not to make up ridiculous stories, then this marriage is doomed.”
He turned back toward her for just a instant. “Oh, and Lizbeth? If you know what’s good for you, I’d better not have to go searching for you when I do get back. You better be waiting right here.”
The door slammed behind him, but Lizbeth didn’t care. She was too hurt, too angry.
Raising her voice to make sure he or anyone who cared to listen heard, she shouted, “Trust goes both ways, Adan Hammerstrike. And you just watch. I’ll go wherever I please. I’ll do whatever I want, and I’ll be whatever I want to be. You don’t own me.”
Chapter Fifteen
A darkness enveloped Adan that even the candles sprinkled about Master Seiger’s manor house couldn’t hold at bay. So it was true after all. Not that he had completely doubted his wife, for he hadn’t, but nothing could have prepared him for the extent of the nightmare Lizbeth had lived through. She’d been telling the whole truth, and his beloved Master Seiger was a monster.
No, more than a monster. He was a demon straight from the pits of fire in The Valley of Torment. If the man wasn’t so frail he was in danger of a strong wind snapping his bones in two, Adan would have choked the life from him with his own bare hands.
He sat stiffly, facing his old master and wiped unfamiliar moisture from his cheeks. Had really only a scant number of turns of the hourglass passed since he’d left her all a
lone in his room at the Academy and walked away? It felt more like a lifetime since he’d hurried to the stables, mounted his steed, headed for the portal to Alaria, and come to the only place he’d ever truly belonged—his home. He’d needed to see for himself if what Lizbeth had said was true, and now, he almost wished he hadn’t.
Once more the white-haired old man laughed. “Ah, those were the days. The girl was hopeless, and not fit to be your wife in the first place. I’m not sure how the Queen expected me to be a miracle worker. After all, one must start with quality stock in order to produce anything near exceptional. The little half-elf brat couldn’t even remember your favorite dessert most days, let alone the name of any new pet. She obviously wasn’t very bright, especially for eight.”
Adan fisted his hands in his lap and held himself rigidly straight. Knowing, that if he let his guard down for even the time it would take for a single grain of sand to sift through the hourglass, he’d smash the old man’s face in. He couldn’t do that…yet. He needed to hear this. He needed to hear it all.
“I wiped the defiant smirk off her face in short order, however.” Master Seiger chuckled. “I made her stay in that trunk until I could no longer hear her incessant whimpers. On many occasions, she’d disgustingly wet and soiled herself, and even though the stench was horrid on my refined sensibilities, I refused to allow her to bathe until she could recite the entire Hammerstrike lineage without flaw.”
Adan couldn’t breathe, and if the man sitting before him didn’t finish his tale soon, he wouldn’t be breathing either.
“Perhaps I should’ve listened to the Queen and spent even more time with your little betrothed. As it was, it took more sessions than it should’ve even to begin to break her spirit and make her pliable to the Queen’s wishes.” The old instructor sighed heavily. “And in the end, I’m not sure I completely succeeded.”
Master Seiger’s eyes gleamed with insanity, and a twisted smile contorted his already weathered face. “But you were worth every moment I was forced to be in young Lizbeth’s presence, my lord. I swore I’d not fail my future king and I didn’t. No, my sweet prince, you deserved only the best efforts I could put forth.”
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