Faery Queen (13 page)

“You liked me well enough to take me to bed,” she charged. How could he have done that while hating her?

“Please tell me that is not why you brought me here. Tell me it wasn't to finish what you started between us a year ago.”

“I started?” she gasped. “You—”

“Oh, by all that is holy, that is it, is it not? You brought me here for this.” Hugh motioned toward the bed.

“You do not love me,” she said, confused. How could he think she'd do all that to him? Aye, she sent Juliana to Merrick. She did want to be part of their love story. It all worked out. They were married. Juliana was a queen. As for love, Merrick was born of light, he could love, couldn't he? Or had she made a mistake with that one? She wasn't so sure anymore. Everything was confused inside her—her powers, her emotions—and it kept getting worse each time Hugh said he hated her. Did her deal with Lucien somehow cause these events he spoke of? She didn't mean for anyone to be hurt. She only wanted to see Hugh, to talk to him, to ask him why he never came back like he promised.

But, he spoke of William. She didn't take William. She knew that.

“Love you?” he spat. “I do not even like you, Tania. How could I? You threaten everything I have ever cared about. Bellemare and my family are the only things I have ever loved. Now my family is broken up, my lands are threatened, the pride of our family—the horses—are dying. The dead walk…”

As his words tapered off, he shivered. She looked down at her lap, slowly pulling the sides of her gown to cover her body from view. Lucien had said the earl had been attacked by the walking dead. Was that her doing? Did her hunger to have him cause such an event? He claimed to love only two things—Bellemare and his family. Hadn't his actions in choosing the manor over her proven that? Her heart ached, a horrible feeling inside her chest, and still she did not want to accept what he was saying, even as she heard it from his own lips confirming what she knew to be true. The earl did not love her.

Hugh hated her.

He hated her.

“And there is no room in you for anything else, is there?” She tried to keep the emotion from her voice, but it was hard.
No room to love beyond those two things? Bellemare and your family.

“Why would you even care?” Hugh asked. “You are nothing more than a bored, silly faery who takes sick pleasure in tormenting me. What do you know of my responsibilities? What do you care of my honor and duty?”

Tania shot up on the bed, lifting off as her wings beat hard in the air. She glared at him, wishing she had the magic to hurt him as he hurt her. But, even now, she couldn't strike out. This was all too much. His words killed the physical pleasure she felt, but her body was still renewed by sexual release and she used that energy now. Hugh held his ground, even as the lines of her sorrow crossed completely over her. Seeing her reflection in the glassy floor, she stiffened. Her eyes had gone completely black and her wings no longer held any white. They were gray with black threading to completely replace the silver. Her gown mended itself, stringing across her body to cover her even as it left gaps of flesh showing through the ripped holes along the front. The material grayed, no longer pretty and white, but dingy and dark.

Tilting her head, she looked at him. “That which has been taken cannot be given back. You will remain here, my lord. You can never go back to Bellemare.”

 

Hugh didn't move as Tania poofed into a little ball of light and buzzed off like an insect. He was so angry at her, yet frightened of her at the same time. The woman was flighty, to be sure, but she also had powers—magic that he as a mortal man did not begin to understand the depths of.

That which has been taken cannot be given back.

So she did know where William was. Or did she refer to Juliana? Anger boiled within him at the knowledge of her pact with Lucien. What did this faery want with him? Why him? Because he'd wanted her so fiercely the first time they met, to the point he could think of little else for the last year?

Today, when he awoke with her temptress body hovering over his naked one, it was clear that she'd been seducing him while he slept. Even as he knew he shouldn't succumb, he couldn't resist her pull.

Though strange, the black lines on her body hadn't detracted from her beauty. She was still small and delicate, just as lovely as the first time he walked into her great hall and was hit with instant desire. Images had flashed through him of that first meeting, images of her pleasuring him before her throne, images of dominating her. They had been mere fantasies, but she'd slapped him for them. That's when he discovered she could read his thoughts—those particular thoughts anyway.

So, what? She decided she finally wanted to act on what was between them? But why go to these lengths to get him into her bed? She'd been the one keeping him at arm's length. Or was this to punish him for daring to desire her at all? What was it she'd said that first day they met?

Lord Bellemare should not have such thoughts without invitation to do so.

Was all this because he didn't ask her permission to fantasize about her? It's not like these faeries were innocent little maidens who didn't know about the ways of men. Thomas and William both told stories about the carnal appetites of the faery race. He was sure that it was some of those stories that prompted his obsession with Tania to begin with. Already he'd been attracted to her and add to that desire a year full of thoughts of her being a carnal and insatiable being? It was like throwing tinder on the blazing fire of his lust.

Thinking of it made him want her again, which only served to anger him more. She acted as if he were some plaything. He was a man with responsibilities. There was no time for these games. He had Bellemare to run, his family to take care of. He needed to get back to both.

You will remain here, my lord. You can never go back to Bellemare.

Angrily, he screamed, hoping she heard him. She would not keep him prisoner here. He had to get back. How could he live without his family?

Looking to where Tania had left, he frowned. The last change in her was disturbing—the eyes filling to black where the white should be, the ashen skin tone. He'd seen the same changes on Lucien. William had said Tania was a neutral party, but it seemed his brother was wrong about this. She definitely had ties to the Damned King, ties they had not seen the year before. Had it always been there? Or was it a cause of the war that raged between the blessed and unblessed?

Feeling confused and helpless, he sat on the bed and buried his head in his hands. His body was weak and the memory of Lucien's visit was all too real. There were so many factors and yet he couldn't make sense of half of them. This wasn't his world. He didn't understand the immortal realm, or the magic it carried. He was a man, a mortal and he was out of his element. Hugh didn't like being out of control.

 

 

 

“We fight a war that has no goal other than to be fought because it must be.” Merrick looked around the center clearing of his garden, avoiding the platform in the exact middle that used to hold a divining basin given to him by King Lucien.

Silver moonlight bathed the withered and neglected plants of the black gardens. Dark stone paths led up from his castle palace, twisting about the grounds in a seemingly endless pattern, surrounded by thick walls that formed a labyrinth from which trespassers could never escape. Vines of sharp thorns and blood red flowers covered the walls. It used to be that the flowers only bloomed when he was in the garden, but now they always bloomed because Juliana was there.

“Methought you would want to know about your brothers,” he said. “I did my best to help them. I tried everything I could think of without risking Lucien knowing I looked for them. If he knew, I fear he might hurt them to hurt you, to hurt me. I could not bear that.”

She didn't answer.

“But, Ean should be able to track them better than I, especially if he believes Thomas received no help from me in finding them. Though, I will continue to search for them. I have my goblins listening to the forest. I promise you, if there is anything I can do, I will do it.”

Still, he received no answer from her.

“I was thinking of how unexpected it is that I would come to this spot to spy on you in the mortal realm, using Lucien's basin, and now I am once again forced to come here to see you and my child.” He gave a small, unhappy laugh. “Even now, it would seem you obsess me, my queen.”

He waited and, though he hoped, he still didn't get a response. It hardly surprised him. Juliana wasn't talking at all these days. Since his coronation as the Unblessed King, Merrick had watched his presence suck the life from the world around him. He was necessary, as necessary as light and spring. He was fall, winter, death to the land. Without him, the immortal world would not rest. Without him, good would not be. He knew this fact, had known it all his life. Only in Juliana had he realized his greatest fear—the fear that who he was would eventually suck the life from her as well.

“You said you would stand by me,” he whispered, his tone mildly accusing. “You said you knew what you were doing, that I could not hurt you.”

Finally he forced his gaze to the center platform to see her. His heart squeezed in his chest, as he stared at his wife's immobile face, frozen in the black stone prison she'd given herself. Her stomach was still rounded with their unborn child, cradled by one of her hands. Her other hand reached out, as it to take his.

The moment Merrick had seen what she had done, he'd moved her to his garden to protect her from the outside world. Naturally, some of his goblin subjects suspected what had happened, but they didn't care enough to pry into it. The creatures had no idea how long mortals were pregnant and the lack of a baby was not noticed.

None could know his pain. Merrick had to hide it. If his weakness was learned then war against Tegwen would be lost, his throne would be attacked and he'd lose any hope of seeing his Juliana again.

Merrick stepped up on the platform, taking her outstretched hand. He stood before her as if she were with him. Closing his eyes, he touched her stone hair and rested his chin on her head. “Why did you not tell me you were unhappy, Juliana? You seemed happy. I was happy with you.” He took his hand from hers, sliding it up her arm to hug her tight. “Did my presence drain you, as it does everything else of beauty? Did you not want to tell me?”

He lifted his hand to her stomach, able to remember the feel of his child kicking at him. Now the stone didn't move, didn't answer his nearness or the call of his power. Was this his fate? To find her and lose her to this statuesque tomb? Was this a new torment for him, as the King of the Unblessed, to endure?

Merrick took a deep breath, able to imagine her free of stone. He could still hear her laugh, see her smile, taste her kiss. “Ah, my Juliana. Why did you not leave me a way to free you?”

Chapter Six

Tegwen Army Encampment, Mystic Forest

“I already told your men. I am Sir Thomas of Bellemare, blessed ward to King Ean.” Thomas sighed heavily, as he looked up from where he was tied to a tree. He sat on the ground. His legs sprawled before him, tied at the ankles, and his arms were bound back, stretched around the thick trunk.

A lot of good his escorts had been. The look Volos had given him most of the way could only be akin to a starving troll watching a walking feast. The large creature drooled constantly and, as the smaller Bevil whispered in his ear, both of them cackled sinisterly. Thomas barely slept the entire trip. After leading him over a glen of thorny bushes, past three sleeping dragons and through the mud pile of an unfriendly gnome, the two guides had finally abandoned him outside Tegwen's encampment. Unfortunately, it wasn't before they drew notice of half of the residing elfin army.

“What were you doing with King Merrick's men?” Commander Adal, leader of the Tegwen armies, was a big elf and one that seemed quite capable of leading his men.

The elfin soldiers were as tall and varied as humans, though they all appeared youthful and strong. There wasn't an old warrior amongst them. The only marked difference was the fashion of their clothing, their extremely long hair and the slight point to the tops of their ears. Most of the soldiers wore bright red tunics that hung long over their legs. They slit up the side to allow movement. Their dark breeches were plain and they wore boots, not unlike those worn in the mortal realm but for the odd pattern of embroidery.

“My sister is married to King Merrick and I visited her from the mortal realm. I was given the two guides to help me get here,” Thomas answered.

“Well, at least you are not lying about your association with King Merrick,” Adal said.

“I am not lying at all. Please, I seek an audience with King Ean. His wards, my brothers, have been taken. I believe Lucien has them.”

Adal knelt down, facing him. “If you have not noticed, we are in the middle of a war. Why do you think the king would care about you and your brothers?”

“We are his blessed wards.”

“Aye, so you have said.”

“According to your scrolls, our line has continued to earn the blessing we have been given.” Thomas was only repeating what Hugh had told him.

“We have been fighting a legion of dark elves for nearly a sennight. I lost good men and a horde of dragons have been spotted a two days ride from here, ensuring that I will lose even more. I expect they will attack by air tonight. What time do I have for reading scrolls?”

Thomas couldn't argue. What were the problems of his family to this man? To King Ean? Could he really expect the King of the Blessed to care about what happened to them? All because of some blessing the elf's father had given them a long time ago.

“I suppose I could spare one man to ride to where the king stays.” Adal stood. “Until then, why do you not just rest right where you are at? If King Merrick sent you to spy on us, you will not be returning to report to him anytime soon.”