by Heidi Hanley
Sweet Maker! Has he hurt you?
I’m perfectly fine. Artanin put some kind of spell on us and kidnapped me, but no one’s hurt me. In fact, this wine is excellent. And by the way, why did no one tell me how handsome he is?
Briana, don’t for one second take this lightly. He is brutal and will not blink about doin’ terrible things to you. I’m on my way.
Silas, don’t come too close. Let me figure out what’s happening here before you risk anyone else’s life. Send someone after Sigel, Epona and Mr. Stark. I’ll keep you posted.
“Let’s start with the supposed prophecy and the story that you are meant to save Brath from some enchantment and become his queen.”
“You don’t believe it?”
He rolled his eyes. “Hardly. Anyone could have written it to advance an agenda. Don’t you find it interesting it appeared only after I incapacitated the king?”
Briana wasn’t about to tell him that Cailleach had the prophecy and The Book of Leaves long before she shared it, just in case he could use that knowledge against the witch. She shrugged.
“Somehow you arrived here. That much I don’t deny. And now that we’ve met, I believe you might make a splendid queen for Uisneach, but not necessarily Brath’s queen.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t suggesting I should be yours?”
He looked her up and down. “It is one possibility.”
Well, the idea might keep me alive long enough to devise a plan to escape. She kept her face blank.
“I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you what happened and why I believe it’s essential to remove the Taranian whelp from the throne. Uisneach has been mismanaged for a long time. King Barclay had the potential to be a great king, which is the only reason I agreed to be his prime minister. I had cause to refuse, but I truly thought he would be a strong leader. He was a brave warrior and,” he paused, his jaw clenching, “a good friend, once. The problem was he believed the myths about magic and wanted to lift the restrictions placed on Evalon to encourage the faeries to take a more active role in Uisneach.”
“Why is that a bad idea?”
“If you allow faeries any role, they’ll take over. There will be no Uisneach, but some kind of magically-enhanced kingdom of Evalon, without any real leadership.”
“Sounds like you hate magic.”
“Magic twists people’s minds and makes them weak. What this kingdom needs is not some whimsical, feel-good ideology that makes it vulnerable to outside forces, but strong warriors capable of protecting our borders and preventing anyone from attacking us and taking control.
“We’re weak in other ways, too. The Taranian reign has been inconsistent on so many levels. On the one hand, they want to let magical faeries run rampant, but on the other hand, they adhere to an antiquated code of morality that stifles any new blood from strengthening the royal lineage.”
Briana nodded slightly. She’d made similar statements to Sigel about the archaic morality codes of Uisneach. However, she felt a little queasy realizing that she and this evil man agreed anything. “Yet they want to ‘modernize’ trade policies and be more politically open to other lands. Absurd. The former kings and queens of Uisneach worked hard to build our military power and make us unconquerable. In two short generations, it could all come tumbling down. I’m not about to let that happen.”
“Did you present an alternative to King Barclay?”
“Repeatedly. But Barclay wouldn’t listen to me. He thought he had all the answers, and he could charm everyone else into believing he was right. I tried to talk to Eleanor, but she wouldn’t listen to anyone but Barclay.”
Hatred darkened his eyes. He walked toward the balcony.
Eleanor? So, he was on first-name basis with the queen? That look comes from more than just a disgruntled employee.
Silas, was there anything between Brath’s mother and Lord Shamwa?
I remember hearin’ that when they were young, Shamwa courted Eleanor, but once she met Barclay, he was her only love. Why do you ask?
It could be one reason he hates the Taranians so much.
Hmmm… makes sense.
Shamwa returned with his emotions under control. “Brath would give away everything to curry the favor of the people of Uisneach, including the power of the monarchy. He invited the riffraff to offer their opinion on every decision. Can you imagine that? Servants were treated like best friends, villagers like royalty. Ahh, everyone loved King Brath, but the coffers were dwindling down to nothing and he lived in an old, cold castle with barely a tapestry on the wall and a log in the fire. Is that how you want to live, Briana? Or,” he waved a hand around the room, “would you prefer a little more comfort and style?”
“I like comfort as much as the next queen, but surely you attract more flies with honey than with vinegar?”
“Oh, Maker, you sound just like them. Can I save you from yourself? What you invite is the usurpation of your power. I hold the power now, not because I coddle the tenants of this land. I hold them accountable to the law.”
“Through fear and victimization?” She saw the bruised and frightened body of Mary Keary in her mind and rage began to surface in her. Stay calm, she coached herself.
“It’s far more effective than how the Taranians operate.”
“I think they tried to build trust and cooperation by building relationships, by making themselves available and visible to the tenants.”
“That’s what stewards are for. No one respects a king who can’t control his country. People respect me because they fear the consequences of not following the rules. People have what they need, and I have what I need. Borders are secure and we are making sure Evalon stays underground. I’m not the only one who believes we need to prevent the interference of faeries. I do have some powerful allies.”
I need to find out more about that. I wonder who these “powerful allies” are?
“You have some valid ideas, my 1ord.” Well, not many, but maybe I can find something to work with. “What if I could guarantee you a place at the negotiating table?”
He laughed out loud. “Oh, sweetheart, you are bold and delightful. However, you are not in a position to offer me anything. Nor would I be interested if you could. I will not tolerate King Brath’s survival. He is single-minded, narrow-minded and too young to understand the consequences of opening Uisneach to foreigners. You really only have two choices here. One, you agree to be my consort and live in the lap of luxury as the Queen of Uisneach, or two, I kill you and end this.” He sat beside her on the recliner and placed a warm hand on her knee, sending a cold shiver up her spine. “The former sounds much more attractive, don’t you think?”
Being so close to him was unsettling. Everything about him exuded virility and power. And yet, she thought, the only power he has is what he controls through terror and the druid’s magic. I, on the other hand, have no sword and no protector, but I do have magic. She smiled. “Let me give this some thought.”
He leaned over and kissed the spot his hand had warmed. She involuntarily moved away. “Very well. In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to clean up. My druid will escort you to your room. I’ll meet you back here for breakfast in an hour.”
He rang a bell. Artanin entered, his hood down.
“Artanin, accompany Lady Briana to her room and make sure it’s secured.” No “please” or “thank you” as Shamwa left the room.
“Milady, follow me, please.”
“So, you’re Shamwa’s flunky?” she said, stepping in front of him. He said nothing, but his menacing glare was enough to silence her. She glanced at the creature in the corner, who smiled, with a promising glint in its eyes.
The druid led her into a room with a lavish canopied bed in red and gold, marble table and thick carpets across the polished stone floors. Artanin swept around its perimeter, his robe trailing, making silent incantations. She watched, impressed, as a seal formed around the single window, making the chamber inescapable.
&nb
sp; “A room fit for a queen,” she said. “Not my style, but nice.” He showed her the private latrine, its walls lined with stone.
“Do you speak?” she finally asked him, curious.
“All I have to say to you, Your Majesty, is things are not always as they appear. Be very careful with what you say and do.” With that cryptic warning, he whirled and swept out of the room, the sound of a lock clicking reminding her she was a prisoner.
After using the latrine and washing up, she explored the room, coming to a massive oak wardrobe. Inside was a row of elegant gowns that looked to be a perfect fit for her.
You okay? Silas asked.
So far, so good. He said I can be his consort instead of Brath’s. He doesn’t like the kingdom’s rigid moral code. If I were to take him up on his offer, you and I could probably be lovers.
I do hope you’re not seriously considerin’ it.
I don’t know, Silas. He’s pretty easy on the eye and I suspect quite charming when things go his way.
Briana, this is no jokin’ matter.
I know. Sorry. Where are you?
Headin’ your way. How the hell did he get past our men at the river?
Excellent question. I didn’t think to ask it, but I will. That reminds me, Artanin said I should be careful and things are not always as they seem. He also addressed me as ‘Your Majesty.’ Don’t you find that odd?
I do. As much as I’m terrified for you, a mhuirnin, it sounds like you’re holdin’ your own. Just keep tryin’ to get information and I’ll be along to help you.
Between the sleep deprivation and the lingering effects of Artanin’s magic, she was feeling logy. A nap might improve her concentration, make it easier for her to think about how to get out of here.
She was jostled awake by Lord Shamwa himself. “Wake up, beauty. You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you. But you haven’t eaten all day. Come, join me for dinner.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes. Stars twinkled in a clear night sky over the Dromdara mountains.
Damn, I never meant to sleep that long.
“Here, why don’t you choose one of the gowns I had made for you?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Oh, but I insist,” he said, pulling a red creation from the closet.
“How could you have known what size?”
“Your first inept captors described you to me.”
“Winkle and Wonk,” she said. “Where are they now?”
He shrugged. “Somewhere the other side of hell, I imagine. I do not tolerate incompetence.”
“You killed them? Because I escaped?” She was horrified.
“No great loss. “I’ll step outside and give you a minute to change.”
She had no choice. She slipped the dress over her head and found a way to slide the pouch with the faerie tree seeds and the warrior heart necklace in her undergarments. Now, if he didn’t rape her, she’d be able to keep them safe. When she was ready, she knocked on the door.
Opening the door, Shamwa stood back and took a long look at her. “Lovely,” he said. “I will enjoy continuing my efforts to persuade you to my side.”
She said nothing but preceded him into the salon. The table was laid out with candles, wine, and an assortment of enticing foods.
Lord Shamwa, now formally dressed in a white shirt, bow- tie and black coat with long tails, held the seat for her. She dutifully sat down as the gnome plated her food and the prime minister’s without a word. When Shamwa wasn’t looking, the gnome winked at her. An ally? Oh, that would be perfect. Yet Artanin warned her things were not as they seemed. She wasn’t sure who to trust.
She stared unbelievably at the lobster and scallops nestled on a bed of greens. “How on earth did you come by fresh seafood in the mountains?”
“Power and wealth will get you anything you like, any time you wish it. I promise you, King Brath would never be able to provide you such a life.”
“Actually, he would. He lives beside the ocean.”
“I didn’t mean the lobster.”
She took a bite of the crustacean, which went down her throat like a rock. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal. Let me make sure I understand. You want me to agree with your plan on how Uisneach should be run, accept your proposal to be your consort, help release Brath from his deep sleep – I assume you agree I hold some power over that – so you can kill him and take formal control over Uisneach.”
“Precisely.”
“It seems you need me more than I need you. Without me, your plan can’t move forward.”
“Without me, you don’t get to live.”
“So, if we were playing a game of ríocht, we’d be at a stalemate.”
“More like I have you checked.”
“Or I, you.”
As they ate, she wondered what her next step was and how much time she had before things headed south. The ever-present gnome curled in the corner. The door would certainly be guarded at all times. There were weapons galore, candlesticks, books, even a sharp letter opener. Without Nua, she was no match for his physical strength.
When they were done eating, Briana walked to the balcony. It seemed the only route of escape, but was secured by Artanin’s magic. Maybe her magic was stronger. Interesting view. A very old and gangly-limbed beech tree stood next to the balcony. Why he left this so close to the castle is beyond me, she thought, seeing it as a simple get-away plan. Beyond the courtyard was a well-kept English garden, complete with hedgerow maze. From her vantage point, she found the way through the labyrinth to its exit. A wide expanse of field separated the garden from a small river. Oh, and how lovely, there’s a boat tied to a tree.
“Beautiful garden,” she said.
Shamwa moved behind her and she held her breath when a hand slid around her waist. “Uh, we don’t know each other well enough for that,” she said.
“And you are stalling for time. Princess, there is no rescue for you. Your knights, so to speak, will not break through the protective spell Artanin put on this place.”
“I am not a princess, Your Lordship. I am a queen.” His breath caressed the back of her
He chuckled. “You’re spirited. I like that. In fact, I find you quite remarkable, which is the only reason I haven’t satisfied my more basic urges. You’re a woman who deserves more care.”
“Then I am thrilled to have impressed you.”
“I won’t wait long, though.” To prove his point, he put a long, well-manicured finger to her collarbone and slid it down toward the neck of her gown.
She heard his intake of breath and for the first time since arriving, felt real fear that she might not be as much in control as she thought. His lips parted and she thought he was going to try to kiss her. Briana stepped back. Her heart raced, waiting for his reaction. Lord Shamwa picked up his goblet, holding it up to her in salute.
Okay, Silas, now I’m nervous. I need to move a little faster here.
What’s your plan?
She told him about the river and her idea of escape. I just haven’t figured out quite how to use my magic to make it happen.
Crows are flyin’ all around, but are stopped by some spell at the mountains near Aurum Castle. You’ll need to break through that barrier.
There was a knock on the door. Shamwa opened it.
“Sorry to trouble you, Your Lordship,” Artanin said, “but there are…”
She couldn’t hear his mumbled words.
“I’ll be back, beauty,” Shamwa said. He swept out without so much as glancing at the druid.
Briana was shocked when the druid met her gaze. “There’s a reason King Brath is not dead,” he mouthed. Artanin let his eyes travel to the balcony door with an almost imperceptible nod. Again he spoke silently. “You are the future of Uisneach. Go!”
What the hell? What’s his role in this? Did he just suggest that he protected Brath?
I believe he just indicated an opportunity for you to lea
ve, said the gnome, in a light and distinctively feminine voice. Her telepathic speech startled Briana. Don’t forget your map. The gnome looked at the desk.Angry voices seeped through the door. With her heart racing, Briana moved to the desk. Nothing on the top. She tried the drawer. Locked. No key. Taking a deep breath, she willed the drawer to open, which it did with ease. Grabbing the pouch that held her map, she pushed the drawer closed and turned back to the gnome. “Are you…”
No time, Lady Briana. Use your magic and go!
Briana went to the balcony and tried the door. It was unlocked! She was free to make her escape.
A full-length gown was not the most conducive apparel to shimmy down trees, but she focused all her attention on success and was on the ground in seconds. There was enough moonlight to aid her footsteps, but not enough to make her a target. Imagining how the garden was laid out helped her to the maze. She offered silent prayers for guidance as she entered the stiff hedges. Recalling its pattern, she forged ahead, heedless of the scratching branches and leaves against her. Forward. Turn. Stopped in her tracks by a dead end. Go back. Stop. She let out all her breath, closed her eyes and imagined the faerie lights of Evalon. When she opened her eyes, tiny lights fluttered before her, and the way through the maze became clear.
After what seemed like an hour but was likely only minutes, she exited the green maze to the grassy field. Pouring on the speed, she made it to the river in minutes. Where’s the boat? The hoot of an owl drew her attention. Focused on the owl, she nearly fell over the tiny vessel, wrapped in the shadow of the beech tree in which the owl was perched.
“Hurry milady, you don’t have much time,” it said.
The boat was tied so tightly to its mooring that she couldn’t free it. She’d need magic. Harry Potter would’ve just thrown out a wingardium something or other, but she didn’t know any such spells. Frantic and frustrated, she simply commanded, “Release the knot!” To her shock and awe, the rope slid open and fell to the ground. Awesome, she thought. Simpler than I thought.
Voices raised in alarm came from the castle. Briana wasted no time in climbing into the boat and shoving away from the bank. “Thanks for your help,” she called to the owl, who hooted out an acknowledgment.