Princess of Wisdom: An Epic Fantasy Series (Wisdom Saga Book 2)

by W. C. Conner

  “Stop worrying, Mertine,” Mitchal had told her as they lay in each other’s arms the night Caron received the summons from Wil. “You know I’ll do everything humanly possible to protect Caron and Alexander. There will even be extra outriders, I will see to that.”

  “I know you will,” she had replied, “but it’s that which is not human I fear.” There had been a long moment during which they lay quietly, enjoying the warmth and closeness of one another.

  “Are you ever going to tell Caron about us?” Mertine finally asked, her voice not much more than a whisper. It was a question she had asked him many times before, but he had always avoided a direct answer.

  “Aye, lass,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation. “I will ask her permission to marry you upon our return.” There was another moment of quiet as he felt her relax into him. “I’ve not been willing to do it before because I never knew whether or not I’d be here for you the next day, such is the nature of my job.”

  “You weren’t willing to do it before because you’re in love with Caron,” Mertine teased, then immediately repented. “That wasn’t fair of me, Mitchal,” she said, “for I love her too, and in the same way that you do. It just feels like maybe it’s time we thought of ourselves as well.”

  Mitchal placed a kiss on her brow. “I already think of you constantly, Mertine.” After another moment of hesitation, he finally said the words she had accepted she would never hear from him. “I have found that I love you, dear woman. It has happened slowly over the years and you can be prickly when crossed, but I do love you.”

  She said nothing in return, but he felt the moisture from her silent tears as they fell on his shoulder.

  His reverie was interrupted abruptly at the sound of a large number of horses galloping up behind them and the sounds of challenge and alarm from the rear guard. Over the mayhem, Roland’s voice came clear to him and the party came to an abrupt halt.

  The Duke’s horse, blowing and steaming in the cold winter air, pranced up to where they sat on their mounts.

  “You could have waited for me, Caron,” he said simply. Then, taking a position to the right of her, he set his war horse to the walking pace they had been enjoying before he had charged up behind them with his soldiers. He turned to her as if they had been traveling together the entire way.

  “Is our son in the coach with Angela?” he asked.

  “He is with me,” Caron answered, patting the bulge in her cloak. Roland rode close to her and touched first her cheek, then the bulge she had patted.

  “We’ll take good care of you both, my love,” he said, “won’t we, Mitchal?” At Mitchal’s nod of agreement, he smiled conspiratorially.

  “We’ll need to take good care of Mitchal, too, Caron.” At the question in her eyes, he laughed. “He finally did it, my love. He finally proposed to Mertine.”

  Mitchal’s mouth opened in surprise as he stopped his horse. “You knew?”

  “Everyone knew but you, my friend,” Roland said.

  Caron drew her mount up close beside Mitchal’s and reached over to give him an awkward hug. “Thank you for that, Mitchal,” she said. “You have made two women, at the least, very happy.”

  Still enjoying the humor of the moment, Roland added, “The rest of your women will have to look after themselves now, I would guess.”

  Mitchal shot Roland a look of exasperation before shaking his head in bemusement. “Mertine was right,” he grumbled. “It’s impossible to have any secrets in that palace.”

  Touching his spurs lightly to the flanks of his horse, Roland started the now much larger party moving once more toward Wisdom as the increasingly heavy snowfall enveloped them.

  36

  The wind caught the front door of Three Oaks, tearing it from Scrubby’s hands as he scrambled across the stoop chased by a flurry of snow. Both Tingle and Thisbe jumped as the door slammed against the wall. Scrubby grabbed the door and pushed it shut, then started talking hurriedly, but his words were lost in the heavy muffler wrapped about his face.

  “Slow down, Scrubby,” Tingle said, laughing at the sight he presented. “We can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  As Tingle spoke, Scrubby pulled the muffler from in front of his mouth. “Caron’s here,” was all that he could say before the door opened once again. This time, however, it did not slam against the wall as Caron entered with Roland at her right side and Mitchal but one step behind them.

  Thisbe came forward as Caron opened her cloak to reveal the tiny Prince Alexander, asleep in her arms. It was all Thisbe could do to keep her hands off the beautiful child, but Caron solved her dilemma when she handed him to Thisbe as Angela followed them in and closed the door against the snow that blew in with the travelers.

  “Meet Alexander,” Caron said simply. “Your next King.”

  Thisbe missed the title as she enfolded the baby in her arms, but Tingle caught it. “You said ‘King’, Caron,” he said. “Didn’t you mean ‘Prince’?”

  “You heard her right,” Roland said. “She has foreseen that Alex here will unite the lands in a line that will last more than a thousand years.” Roland beamed as he looked down at Alexander asleep in Thisbe’s arms. “Not a bad job of it for a second-hand Duke, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Roland,” Caron said sternly, “first of all, his name is Alexander, not Alex, and second, you’re nobody’s second-hand anything!”

  Scrubby had been peeking over Thisbe’s shoulder as she swayed in what he had named the ‘mommy motion’ – the side-to-side movement that attacks women whenever they hold a baby. He had even seen Mattie do it when she was simply near a baby.

  “He’s a really cute baby, but it seems a long way to come in the middle of winter just to show him to us,” he observed. Roland’s smile died as Scrubby spoke.

  “We’ve come for Wil once again, Scrubby,” Caron said. “He needs my help.”

  Roland could tell that Caron had trouble bringing herself to speak so calmly of Wil’s summons, but said nothing of it to either her or Scrubby.

  “We will visit the wizards in the morning,” Caron continued. “We need to let them know what Wil has discovered.”

  “Send for Allen if you would, please,” Eldred said to Thomas as Caron finished relating her news. Thomas stood and walked briskly toward the door as Eldred looked gravely at her.

  “Forgive me for being so bold, Highness, but it wouldn’t seem prudent to bring your son with you on this quest if it is he the darkness seeks.” He looked to Roland and Mitchal who sat near her in the semicircle before the great fireplace.

  “Wil advised against it as well,” Caron replied, “but I will not be parted from my son any longer than the time I will be in the Forest. Alexander will stay with Thisbe and Angela until my return.”

  There was a prolonged period of silence as they sat before the dancing flames waiting for Thomas to return with the young wizard who had first sensed Gregory’s mass of darkness where it struggled against the spell of binding in the cave beneath his cabin.

  They turned as one when the door opened and the young wizard entered followed closely by Thomas. Allen’s eyes darted about the group sitting before the fireplace and smiled as he recognized each of them.

  “Join us, Allen,” Eldred said, indicating an empty chair. The boy perched at the front of his chair, looking uncomfortable.

  “Does this have anything to do with Gregory’s passing?” he asked. Eldred nodded as Caron leaned forward, an anxious look on her face.

  “Can you sense the darkness, Allen?” she said. “We need to know if it is close.” At the puzzled look on his face, she continued. “Wil has told me it seeks my baby. Can you sense its presence?”

  The young wizard nodded. “It is underground, moving very slowly along the margin of the Old Forest, Highness. The Forest is dying wherever it has been touched. You can see where it has already been.”

  “It is winter, Allen,” Eldred said. “To most, the growth at the edge of the Fore
st looks like all other plants do at this time of the year. They cannot see the essence as most wizards do.” Allen looked slightly abashed but Eldred hurried to reassure him. “You have done wonderfully well, Allen. Thank you for your help.”

  Looking around once more, he stood and bowed to Caron and Roland before sidling out of the semicircle and heading for the door. Caron’s face had taken on a puzzled look.

  “Wil said it seeks Alexander, yet it seems not to be aware of his presence,” she said.

  “Perhaps it’s time to talk to him again, Caron,” Roland said quietly.

  Caron looked at the key where it rested on its wrappings. She held her hands clasped behind her, reluctant to touch it again. Looking at it from this distance in time from the battle with the demoness, she recalled how she was loathe to be parted from it then, so deep was her love for the man from whom it had come. In those seemingly simpler times, just the touch of it reassured her of the power it represented, of the love it represented. She shook her head. That was all in the past. She had Roland and Alexander... especially Alexander. At that thought, she recalled her reason for being here at the Wisdom wizards’ compound. She looked to Roland who gave her a smile of confidence as her hand hovered over the talisman.

  She felt the warmth of Wil’s arm flood her hand as she placed it gingerly on the key.

  Are you there? she asked. The tentative feeling with which she asked bothered her pride.

  I have never stopped being here for you, Caron, Wil returned.

  The wizards here tell me the darkness appears to be unaware of Alexander’s presence.

  Your son will be perfectly safe for the time being – at least while he is in the compound, Wil advised, but there is a malevolent will at work against your child. You must bring my arm to me as quickly as possible so that this evil may be turned from its purpose and eliminated.

  Must I bring it into the Forest? Caron questioned.

  I am still unable to travel very far toward the margins of the Forest without suffering great pain, he said.

  It was a long minute before Caron’s thought finally came quietly to Wil. I do this for my child. Not for you.

  I understand, Caron. I truly understand, Wil returned just as quietly.

  You will be unable to enter at the same spot you did before, he continued. It has been corrupted and sickened by the darkness. The young prodigy wizard will show you a spot at which it will be safe to enter. It is late, I know, and you will want both sleep and time with Roland and the baby before you come to me. You must depart no later than tomorrow at noon.

  I will not fail you, Wil, she sent to him.

  Unlike the way you failed me, she thought to herself after removing her hand from the talisman. Her gaze remained on the living piece of the wizard which she had kept from him for more than a year because of her spite for what he had done to her. She looked at Roland whose supportive, sympathetic smile gave her pause.

  That was unfair of me, Wil, she thought. You did, after all, save not only my life but that of my beautiful son. I do owe you this much, at the least.

  Roland saw the change in Caron’s face as she made peace with what she was going to do and smiled inwardly, sensing that a crisis point had been successfully passed.

  Once again, Caron stood before the Old Forest, but at a spot a full league farther west than the spot from which she had entered the Forest before. Once again, her emotions were tightly strung as she waited for the summons to enter. This time, however, there was only Roland, Mitchal, Eldred and Allen watching as she waited.

  The Forest sprang to life, just as before, and a vaulted pathway appeared, inviting her to enter. Unlike before, however, she hesitated for a long moment, more fearful than hopeful about what she would find this time.

  Wil, she thought, and at the thought his face sprang up in her mind. Oh Wil, I have missed you so.

  The watchers on the road wondered at her hesitation and breathed a collective sigh of relief when she at last squared her shoulders and stepped resolutely forward to disappear just as she had before. After she was gone, they turned silently to walk back to the compound and have a mug of warm spiced apple cider to chase the cold from their bones.

  37

  Once inside the Old Forest, the cold of winter was no more. All around her were the vibrant colors of life as it was meant to be, as it had been at the beginnings of the earth, and her soul, called by the elven magic of which she was heir, flowed once again into it. She felt her worries and doubts melt away as she walked, feeling more and more positive and less and less fearful than she had in over a year.

  A week passed before she walked once again into the circular clearing at the center of the Old Forest. She stopped only briefly to look around before continuing on to the stone cottage not far beyond the other side of the opening.

  When she arrived, she started to reach for the latch as she had during the week she had spent with Wil but felt suddenly as though she would be intruding. She knocked quietly instead. Soft footfalls approached from the other side and Caron suddenly wondered if she had made a mistake coming after all. She held her breath as the latch lifted and the door opened.

  “Hello, Caron,” Wil said with a smile. “Thank you for bringing me back to myself.”

  She couldn’t help herself. Her unease broke and she laughed and held out her hand in greeting. He hadn’t changed at all, but then again, in truth, neither had she. The bond that had been born between them those five years before had never really gone away. It had simply lain dormant. She saw it now. I was wrong!

  His eyes lit up at her laughter. Those beautiful steel gray eyes smiled back into hers.

  “I’m sorry, Wil,” she said. “I was wrong to blame you like that. Roland told me on the trip back to Confirth that I was wrong to blame you and he was right. I owe you my life and that of Alexander.”

  “So his name is Alexander,” Wil said. “A noble name, indeed.” There was an awkward moment of silence before he took her arm, pulled her through the door and guided her to her customary chair at the little table in the kitchen.

  “There is someone who wants to meet you in person, so to speak,” Wil said as Gleneagle appeared beside him.

  “I am honored,” Gleneagle said, bowing. “You are every bit as beautiful as the woman I was unable to take with me when the elves departed. It is no wonder that you have two fine men who both love you so very much. You have enough beauty and more for an entire army to love.”

  Caron blushed as she stood and curtsied respectfully back to her true elf ancestor. “I am honored more than I can express at this meeting,” she said almost breathlessly. “I only wish my father, your namesake, could be here to meet you also.”

  With a nod of understanding, he smiled and turned to Wil. “And now, Wilton,” he said, “I know you two have much to discuss.”

  He turned once again to Caron. “You will be always in my thoughts, granddaughter. There is little I can do to affect events beyond the borders of the Forest, but if you ever have need of comfort, send for me through Wilton.” With a smile and a small wave of his hand, Gleneagle’s shade faded from their sight.

  “He calls you ‘Wilton’?” she said, turning an amused smile on Wil who shrugged.

  “A sign of respect, I suppose,” he said.

  Caron looked again at Wil and realized some things just never change. She shook her head in resignation. “I have your arm right here, Wil,” she said as she removed the package slung across her back. He ignored the bundle she set upon the table.

  “We need to talk about the child, Caron,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically strained as he spoke.

  “I originally came to protect Alexander,” she replied. “What is there to talk about?”

  “It is not because of Alexander that I called you here,” Wil said. His face became almost rigid with tension as he spoke and Caron’s body tensed up in response. “I called you here because of the danger to our child.”

  “Our daughter is dead,” Car
on replied evenly. “You sacrificed her, remember?” Her anger had started to build and she fought to keep from lashing out at Wil.

  He continued gently. “Her body died in the attack, Caron, but I couldn’t let the spirit that resulted from our love die also. That spirit lives within you still. The essence of the child who was to be still lives.”

  Caron stood rigidly, her mouth working soundlessly as she tried to absorb what she had just heard. “How... How...” she stammered. “Why...” Tears started down her face as she struggled to cope with the knowledge that their daughter had somehow survived the sacrifice.

  “It’s not easy to explain, Caron,” Wil said. “I know you remember when her mortal remains were drawn from your body by Bartholomew shortly after the battle. Her physical life at the time numbered in days only, after all, but the spirit that was created by our love at her conception was the same spirit it was at her death.” Caron’s eyes looked at him in shock as he continued.

  “She is the child the darkness seeks, not Alexander.”

  “But you said the darkness sought Alexander,” she said.

  “I said the darkness seeks your child, Caron. You supplied a name.”

  “You tricked me!” she accused, her eyes flashing with instant anger.

  “Would you have come otherwise?”

  She bowed her head. “No,” she replied quietly after a moment, “I would not have.”

  “I’m sorry to have felt it necessary to mislead you, Caron, but even though it is not Alexander the darkness seeks, the danger is very real. All life would be at risk had I been unable to bring you here. Once again, the danger did not end at Blackstone.” Wil looked out the window as he continued. “The darkness is being driven by a force not from our world. It is a force with which you are familiar.”

  “Styxis?” Caron asked in a very small voice. Wil nodded as Caron continued, “I thought she was dead. I thought we killed her.”