Faery Queen (8 page)

Thomas grimaced, glancing down at the spright before turning back to his sister.

Juliana continued, “I discovered only this morning that my last two missives did not reach you. It seems the creatures I entrusted got hungry instead and it never arrived.”

“Ah, see,” Rees interrupted.

Thomas lifted his hand absently in the spright's direction, trying to get him to be quiet. He didn't want to miss anything his sister had to say.

“That is why I'm trying magic and intrusting this vial into the care of my sprights, Halton and Gorman.” Juliana smiled and her attention was drawn to the side. She motioned her hand for silence, just as Thomas had done, and he assumed her own sprights were trying to interrupt.

Thomas again tried to touch her face, only feeling air. She turned her attention forward once more and he stayed in front of her, as if she truly looked at him.

“I had hoped for a happier message, but I send this to warn you, my dear brothers. Something is happening here in the immortal realm. King Lucien of the Damned is somehow gaining power. I do not have proof of the how, but Merrick feels it is so and I trust him in this. I have good reason to believe that the Damned King is planning to send demons into Bellemare.”

Thomas swallowed. Her warning had come too late.

“I pray that you do not come upon them, but if you should, those that come in human form can most often be stopped by severing the head from the body or by fire.” Juliana paused, looking down to touch her stomach, rubbing it in circles. “William I am sure you know how to put protective charms around the castle. Please do so if you have not already. You might need them.”

“Juliana, what is it?” Thomas demanded, reading something dire in her expression. He reached to cover the hand on her stomach. As if sensing him, she stopped rubbing. “What is wrong, Juliana?”

“She cannot hear you, Sir Thomas,” Rees said. “It is just a record of the past, not a link to the present Lady Juliana.”

“Thomas,” she continued, “I hope every day that you have recovered from your wounds. But you were always strong. There is so much I want to tell you, to try and explain. I do not want you to worry about me. Merrick is a good man. I know what you think of him being as he is the King of the Unblessed, but he cares for me and I for him. He saved your life, Thomas, that day on the battlefield.” Juliana paused. Thomas already knew as much. “I am eternally grateful to him for that.”

“Juliana.” Thomas willed her to see him, really see him. She didn't. It was like Rees said, merely a record of the past. He wanted to hold her close, reassure himself that at least one sibling was safe.

“And Hugh,” she sighed. “I hope that you have forgiven me for staying. Know that I made my choice and am happy in it. Whatever happens to me, this is what I wanted. You did not fail in your duty to me.”

The image dissolved. Thomas tensed, lifting his hands as if he could stop it. “Nay, wait.”

“That is it, Sir Thomas,” Rees said.

“Something is wrong,” Thomas said. “She is frightened. I could see it in her eyes. Juliana never talks like that. Something must have happened. Make it show me again. Bring her back.”

“It only works once, Sir Thomas,” Rees said. “Then gone forever.”

Thomas sank to the floor, running his fingers through his hair. Not Juliana. He couldn't lose her, too. What was happening to his family?

A small flash appeared and Thomas automatically looked at the broken vial to see if there was more of the message. There was nothing.

“Lord Bellemare, I hate to see you like this.” The soft, feminine voice drifted over him.

At the unexpected sound, Thomas shot to his feet, turning toward the bed in the same motion. The mysterious woman with violet eyes was sitting next to his brother. She gasped, looking shocked to see Thomas in the chamber.

“What are you…?” Thomas began, ready to charge her and pull her away from his brother. She had a leech pinched between her fingers and a rivulet of blood trailed down Hugh's chest from where she'd pulled it off him. “What are you doing? Leave him be. The physician—”

The words never finished. The woman grabbed hold of Hugh and pulled his arm against her chest. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. It was as if she said, “I am sorry.”

“Nay!” Thomas lunged on the bed, but he landed on the empty, blood stained coverlets. “Who are you? Why do you do this?”

She didn't answer.

“Rees!” Thomas yelled.

“Aye?” the little spright said.

“Why didn't you stop her?” he demanded.

Rees' big eyes teared. “I cannot. I'm just a spright. I'm sorry. I cannot. I do not have her power.”

Realizing that yelling at the spright wasn't going to help his cause, he said, “I do not care how risky the journey is, find me away into the immortal realm. Now.”

 

 

 

Fire Palace of the Damned

Hugh's body burned from heat and shivered from cold at the same time. It was an odd, contrasting sensation, but the only way his hazy mind could think to interpret it. Soft hands touched his face, but he couldn't see a person to go with them. Beneath him, his bed was hard, flat stone.

With each gentle caress the sharp pain that had wrapped him in darkness began to lessen. His neck no longer hurt and the soreness in his arm subsided. Though, deep inside, an ache remained—an ache in his soul, an emptiness he couldn't explain.

“I did what you asked,” a woman's voice said. It sounded vaguely familiar. “He is alive, but barely. The men of his world know nothing of healing. They have sapped him of his strength.”

“Leave us,” a deeper male voice answered. “I will take care of the rest. Queen Tania will get what she asked for, but only too late will she know at what price.”

“What are you going to do?” the woman asked. “Why have me save him, only to kill him?”

Why could not he see? Hugh tried to move, tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. Still, he felt better as the bodily pain subsided even more.

“Do you not know me by now, Mia?” The man gave a cryptic laugh. “I am going to have my fun. Now, I suggest you leave me to it. I do not think this is anything you want to watch.”

“Lucien, nay!” the woman answered. “You do not have to do this.”

Hugh's mind was at instant attention. Lucien? The Lucien? King of the Damned? How did that evil being get into Bellemare?

Then, remembering that King Lucien couldn't go into the human world, Hugh was racked with fear. He was no longer at Bellemare. He was in the realm of immortals once again.

Nay!
He tried to cry out. Lucien's sinister laugh answered the thought. It was as if he could hear inside Hugh's head.

“Lucien,” Mia begged. “Please, I just healed him. Why—?”

A sudden, sharp agony hit Hugh's chest. He wanted to cry out at what felt to be the cut of a blade across his chest, but he couldn't. Mia screamed, her voice growing fainter as footfalls ran off into the distance. The woman had left him alone with the demonic king. He wasn't sure how he knew with certainty that they were alone, he just did.

“In my home at last, Lord Bellemare,” Lucien said. “How I have watched and waited for you. Open your eyes to me. Look at me.”

Hugh did, blinking in the dimmed firelight as he found the Damned King kneeling on the floor beside him. The hall was large and dark, unlike any human structure he'd ever seen in all his travels as a knight. The king's dark face was covered in ash and dust and the black pits of his demonic eyes burned with an inner fire. There was no mistaking his manlike features for those of a mortal. Only a devil could have eyes that burned in such a terrifying way.

“I have waited a long time to have you once again in my grasp, Lord Bellemare. But I confess, this is not how I imagined our meeting again.” Lucien smiled.

Hugh moaned, trying to tell the king just what he thought of him. Lucien laughed. All around them was dark stone lit with a fire he couldn't see from his place on the floor. The low crackle filled the silence like the pits of hell threatening to consume at any moment. Lucien sat down on the floor next to him, leaning over on one arm to lightly swing a knife back and forth in his hands.

“How the blessed do fall,” the king mused. “I look at you, in your fragile mortal body, so near death, so drained of life. What if I were to offer you eternity? What if I were to tell you that you did not have to face death or pain? That I could give you the power to take what you want, to have pleasure and flesh, to drink and kill without consequence? To keep your precious Bellemare intact and safe? And all you would have to do is ask me to give it to you in exchange for your soul.”

Hugh grunted, though in truth there was a moment in which he wasn't sure what he would say. But, there was no way he could consider an offer from the devil. What good were all the things Lucien offered him without his soul? What pleasure was flesh without the willingness of it to be taken? What good was Bellemare without the moral code they lived by? What honor was there in killing without consequence or thought? And what good was living without the one thing every mortal craved—to love and be loved? He was an earl. He had the love of the people, the love of family, of the land of his generations past. No devil's offer could give him that. No devil's pleasures could honor what he had, what had been bestowed upon him by his ancestors.

The only thing he didn't have was the love of a woman, a wife, but he had the dream of it and hope was enough to make him wait for her. Until then, he had other pleasures—lust, laughter, companionship. Hugh thought of Tania. It was her fault that he hadn't taken companionship lately. She'd tainted him toward others. But, he knew that her memory would fade given time and another would catch his notice.

Tania wasn't a lady he could set above his hall at Bellemare. She had her own hall and her own land. He knew that from the beginning, from the first meeting when he'd looked at her and wanted her and she'd slapped him for daring to. Nay, never Tania for a wife. What reason was there to wish for more when it could not be? He would never consider the faery queen. He would marry a mortal, a noblewoman who loved like he wanted to love and who would honor as he honored. Like his father before him, he'd find a worthy lady to watch over Bellemare by his side, protecting the lands and the people as his ancestors had. Tania was an image of lust, a beautiful dream that would fade in the morning hours as reality took root. He was sure that when he married, his love would be born of the duty and honor of Bellemare.

Nay, the things he wanted could not be bargained for with King Lucien. The secret longing, which became vividly clear only now after Lucien threatened to take it all away, burned bright within him. He knew what he wanted, what he longed for. And it was nothing that could be found here in the realm of immortals.

“You disappoint me,” Lucien said. “What I offer is better than the love you think of. What good is love when your lady wife dies? What good is love when Bellemare's blessing is stripped away and you are left with barren livestock and putrid soil?”

The jeweled hilt of Lucien's knife caught Hugh's attention. It was the dagger they'd given Juliana on her fourteenth birthday.

Juliana!

“Your sister and her husband are not here to save you.” Lucien followed Hugh's eyes toward the blade in his hand. “Ah, you noticed that, did you? It is one of my favorite pieces. Your sister did use it after all to stop me last we all met in King Merrick's hall. What can I say? I am sentimental.”

Hugh tried to speak.

“Oh, do forgive me,” Lucien waved his hand over Hugh's throat. “You were saying?”

“How did you get that? Juliana had it last I saw her.”

“That she did and so she did last I saw her as well.”

“What have you done?” Hugh struggled for just an ounce of freedom in his limbs. It never came.

The fire burned hotter in Lucien's eyes for a brief second. “It is a surprise. You would not want me to ruin it, would you?”

Hugh cried out in pain and frustration. It had been so long since they heard from Juliana. Lucien screamed, a mocking sound as he joined the earl's rant of frustration. Hugh stopped and so did the Damned King.

“How disappointed I was when King Merrick chose her,” Lucien admitted. “I had such hope for him, but I will confess I still do.”

“I am not your priest. I have no wish to hear your confessions.” Hugh looked away.

“Oh, but I think you will want to hear this,” Lucien said. “I can feel how you dislike Merrick. You do not think he'll make your sister happy for long.”

Hugh glared at him, resenting him because he was right.

“You are right to be frightened for Queen Juliana. A woman will only live so long in happiness with Merrick. He is the king of all that is unblessed and necessary evil is still evil. One day, she will wake up and realize what it is she married. And that is only if he doesn't grow bored of her first. Already it is rumored they do not share the same bed. Perhaps he is already done with her.”

“I will take care of my family. They are no concern to you. If Juliana is unhappy, that is a family concern.”

“Oh!” Lucien clapped, grinning and laughing in sinister glee. “That is what I love about you, Lord Bellemare. You are always the valiant knight. I cannot tell you how many temptations I put before you over the years—women, riches, power. All those chances and each time you rejected my demons' offers. I am honestly not surprised you rejected my offer to give you every whim in exchange for your soul. I would not want your soul if it was so easily seduced.”

Hugh frowned. What was the king talking about? He'd never had dealings with a demon, well not since Nicholas.

“Ah, but you have,” Lucien said. “In battle. Remember that time you rode up upon the women in the river? Naked, wet, helpless, beautiful women. You could have taken all three of them. I know you desired to do so. I made them enticing that way.” Lucien waved his hand and suddenly the sound of frightened female gasps filled his ears. He turned his head away from Lucien only to see the hazy memory from his youth. Three naked women were in the water, just as he remembered them being—one blonde, one brown and one as fiery red as he'd ever seen. Lucien leaned close to his ear as he watched the silent memory. “You could have taken them and no one would ever know. You could have told yourself you were drunk on wine as you raped each of them in turn. But what did you do?” Lucien growled. Hugh watched as his younger self handed them a blanket and then pointed them on their way. “You let them go, no doubt saving the image to stroke your sword to later.”