ReluctantConsort (3 page)

What could this boy know though? What message could the One
possibly give to a child?

“’Tis madness to take him to the Fortress, Daelan,”
Caedan sighed.
“We should take him to the boundary of the mists and set him
free. Mayhap confuse him in what he has seen…”

“He reminds me of her! I cannot turn this child away. And
I would question him, brother, learn her name if possible.”

Her. The delicate, magick-infused human who had managed
to breach the Vale and who tempted a hunger inside them that they could not
assuage without her.

They had demanded her name countless times, and still, she
refused. The past week when she had left the Vale, tears had whispered down her
cheeks as she stared at them from the human side of the mists and whispered she
would not return to them again.

Why? She had turned and run rather than explain and both
Caedan and Daelan had felt a foreboding impossible to forget.

Urging the blades to move faster as he and his fellow
warriors followed along, Caedan could one hope that whatever it was, that this
child had no great love for his father, King Alistair.

For soon, he would have no father at all.

The Ogre Kings, hidden within the magick mists, listened in
horror to the message the human child brought to their ears, as the One had
given it to him as he slept. Standing just behind them, the daughter of the
gods assigned to the Causeway by the One himself watched the child in sorrow
and regret.

Her large violet eyes darkened as the boy’s fear and pain
could be heard, the long waves of inky black hair crackling with the energy of
her anger as the child’s voice trembled and he begged for the life of the
princess.

“She is my sister.” The boy trembled within the mists. “King
Alistair has whispered that her woman’s peak is nearing and the magick that
infuses her must be destroyed.” Tears dripped from the boy’s eyes for a sister
he obviously held much love for.

Small fists were clenched, betrayal echoed in every word,
and the knowledge that the child had opened his mind to allow magick to read
the truth of his words was lost on none of the Ogre. Especially those of the
kings sworn to protect all magick from the humans.

“She is bound in chains, infused with a spell purchased by
some witch taken many years ago. She was bathed and dressed as though to be
wedded,” the child continued tearfully. “When night falls on the first crest of
the full moon in but two eves from now, he will…” Ah, the boy was fast losing
his ability to hold back the pain and betrayal of a father’s depravities. Not
that Daelan could blame him.

Shadow Hell, what monster of evil could countenance the
repeated raping of his own child? Especially a rape he would inflict himself? A
child once treasured and adored by him before he began using her as a source of
the blood he craved?

Magickal females did not lose their power per se when taken
before the peak of their magick. That magick became trapped within them
instead, rising and amassing in their bodies with no outlet for there was no
longer trust left within her to open herself fully to her magickal twins.

Their blood became so infused by the crystalline spores of
their magick that many were driven to insanity because of it. Scarlet blood
gleamed like diamond-studded essence when drawn directly from their fragile
veins. Especially the blood of their females. As though their life’s liquid
were filled with crystal dust.

“And how would we know your sister has not lied to you,
boy?” King Kellan questioned the child in a voice of harsh anger. “What proof
have you that she is of magick? Magick cannot exist in Secular lands or within
human soil.”

“Not true.” Prince Quin trembled once more. “She is of the
Spry—the Crae’all line. Royalty to the Spry hierarchy and destined for warriors
of incomparable strength. The One told me this.” Desperation was beginning to
lace the lad’s tone now. “I came as I was bid when I prayed upon the stone that
glitters like diamond dust, passed down from eldest child to eldest child of
that line, and carries the mark of magick.”

Caedan shook his head then. There was no mark… His gaze
whipped to his brother at the sudden tension whipping through Daelan as the boy
mentioned a mark.

“And what mark would this be? Magick carries no mark, boy,
proving you to lie as all your kin.”

“She does,” the boy cried out furiously, thin little fingers
clenched white around the iron bars of his cage. “At the very base of her back.
I have seen this mark myself and her mother swore to her it was the mark of her
birth of the magick house whose blood she carries. The mark of the Crae’all
line, a flaming sword set as though piercing her flesh.”

A mark neither Caedan nor his brother had heard of existing.
A glimpse of Muse’s surprise hinted that perhaps she had indeed heard of such,
though.

“You cannot deny her.” Terror scented the air in a surge of
raging emotion. “You must go for her now!”

“You do not order me, boy.” Cold and shocking in its lack of
mercy, the voice of King Kellan did no justice to the concern and fury that
burned in the eyes of the Ogre King Aherin. As he and King Kellan glanced at
each other, Muse stepped forward slowly to stand between the heavy Ogre
thrones.

“I do not order you,” the boy denied desperately. “I beg of
you.” The young prince went to his knees. “I beg thee.”

“Rise, child,” Caedan murmured from where he stood to the
side of the cage. “Do not weaken now.”

Trembling, tears wetting his face, the boy rose to his feet,
his shoulders straightening despite his fear. What courage the boy had. And
what a shame that a child of such will had a father to shadow his days as this
one did in Alistair the Perverted.

King Kellan stared at the boy thoughtfully for long moments,
his fingers tapping restlessly, silently on the wide arm of his throne. Muse
bent to his ear, whispering some message to him as her gaze stayed on the boy.

“As Prince, you have certain rights,” King Kellan stated
moments later, causing the boy to visibly start as his head lifted, hope
brightening his gaze. “Is this not true?”

Confusion filled the young heir’s gaze. “I have been told.”
He nodded slowly.

“In matters of a sister’s safety, is it not true that a
Secular heir to a throne may petition champions to her protection?”

Blue eyes widened as the young prince fisted his fingers in
determination. “I have been told.” He swallowed with difficulty though.

“What say you then, young prince?” King Aherin questioned
him suggestively. “As keeper of your sister’s protection, is this your
request?”

“Aye.” The boy’s voice strengthened. “I request champions to
my sister’s protection.”

“Know you that such champions may lay claim to the princess
should their magicks align?” King Aherin asked then. “That in deigning to take
responsibility for her life, they are given also the chance to accept
responsibility of taking her as their consortess?”

“Would they be cruel to her?” Prince Quin appeared concerned
now. “She is a delicate thing.” He worried, fists clenching once more. “She is
not like other women. Small of bones, my uncle has said. She would break
easily.”

“Are champions known to be cruel?” King Aherin boomed then, causing
the child to flinch in fear.

He shook his head quickly. “Nay, sire.” His voice shook, but
the boy did not back down. “Should you swear to know champions who would not
break or abuse one so fine as she, then I petition your highness to choose from
among your warriors champions to rescue her from the horrors that await her.”

Caedan glanced at his brother again, baffled by the feeling
Daelan communicated with the kings, but unable to decipher what conversation
they shared.

King Kellan leaned forward upon his throne, his gaze moving
about the warriors assembled before him. “Have we volunteers? Have I warriors
who would champion a Spry princess of delicate form and tender heart?”

“Aye, sire.” Daelan stepped forward.

Caedan stared at his twin in true shock.

They? Champions? To one of a delicate body and a tender
heart? What joke did his brother play?

Their kings sat upon their thrones, gazes narrowing on
Caedan rather than Daelan. “What say ye, Caedan?” Aherin asked softly.

Caedan would not consider ever naysaying his twin, the
eldest of birth, but later he might question his sanity. They had sworn to
await one last chance to hold the one who came to them from the human lands and
whose magick perfected theirs. That was no Spry ancestor’s magick she possessed.
Why would his brother align with this cause after having made such a vow?

Stepping forward, he faced his kings confidently. “Aye,
sires,” he answered the question. “The house of Dungarrin champions the Spry
princess and requests permission to begin preparations to collect her
immediately.”

Both Kings Kellan and Aherin were silent then, Muse between
them, tense and watching Daelan closely.

Was it the tiny goddess his brother spoke with?

“Prepare your warriors and gather your weapons.” King Kellan
sighed then. “We will begin preparations to rescue us a princess.”

The boy prince seemed to wilt.

He slid against the iron bars of his cage until he sat upon
the floor, his arms wrapping around bony knees with a grip born of a courage
that even many men, human and magick alike, did not possess.

The tears were dried, large blue eyes reflected grim purpose
and resignation that Caedan found distasteful. His gaze lifted to his rulers to
find them watching him expectantly.

“House of Dungarrin.” It was Muse who spoke, her voice a
wash of warmth and gentle compassion, as soft as the breeze that caressed the
Whispering Mountains, as mysterious as the hush that could descend over the
Mystic Mountains.

The young prince’s head lifted from his knees, his senses
perking with a young man’s solace as though he sought to convince himself he
had heard that sweet, gentle sound.

“Aye, Lady Muse,” Caedan and Daelan spoke as one.

“What plans have you for your young brother?” she asked
then. “I would know, as caretaker of this fortress, before all is prepared and
your warriors begin your journey.”

Caedan glanced to his brother.

“We request, Lady Muse, that this prince, whose courage and
mercy have been proven in his quest to save a sister considered heinous in his
land, be guarded by the just and compassionate mercy of our sister Select’s
embrace until our return. He will be given asylum in the house of Dungarrin
until the death of Alistair the Perverted,” Daelan requested of her.

Caedan near grinned at the bewilderment that crossed young
Quin’s features.

The boy was confused, and well he should be.

With a gentle smile Muse waved her delicate hand, clearing
the mists of the Ogre’s Obsidian Hall and allowing the child to see the
champions chosen to forever guard his princess.

But of course, Quin’s gaze went first to the demi-goddess
whose mesmerizing beauty was unlike any the boy could have seen until this
moment.

She was tiny and appeared frail, dressed in the leathers of
a Sorceress warrior, a lethal sword strapped to her hips and tethered to her
thigh, small daggers sheathed to the unique Braillan silver arm bands she wore
about her firm upper arms. Young Quin would not be able to help his fascination
with her.

Then the boy’s eyes widened farther as they went around the
hall and to the warriors watching him with no small amount of amusement.

Legend told that Ogre were gruesome to behold. One-eyed,
grotesque of visage and without a feature that could be called pleasing to the
eye.

For the most part, there was some truth in this.

Ogre were always male, large, powerful warriors whose magick
lay in the strength of strategy and war, and in the ability of their bodies to
heal. They were well honed, with no great handsomeness as Wizard Twins
possessed, and they were scarred from years of battle in the Causeway.

Grotesque? Caedan near smiled, for he knew what the young
prince saw.

Magick shimmered like an aura of glittering spora across the
pitch-black eyes of each male present. Powerful bodies, tall of stature and
heavy of bones, padded with precise, well-trained muscle that served them well
in battle.

Prince Quin’s gaze moved instinctively to both Daelan and
Caedan.

“Wizard Twins,” he whispered, as though awed.

Daelan grunted at the thought. “Nay, young prince,” he
growled. “Wizard Twins are as princes to our land, heirs to the greatest
magicks. We are but the warriors sworn to defend their boundaries and rout from
it the humans who would destroy their worlds.”

A smile then lit the young prince’s face. “Great warriors
you truly are,” he declared. “Beware though, my sister may be weak of body, but
she is strong of will and a certain…ability to test even the strongest temper.
Uncle Finn has oftentimes said she would tempt even the One to rain down the
fires of Shadow Hell upon her defenseless head.”

Caedan was aware that his brother was amused, even as he
sensed the truth of the boy’s words. As well as the laughter the suddenly
far-too-pleased child was holding back.

“Rather than roasting piglet this eve, I am beginning to
fear that perhaps roast prince would have been far better fare,” Daelan assured
the hall’s inhabits.

“There’s not meat upon my bones at all,” the prince assured
him with the most solemn of tone, a false appearance if ever there was one. “I
have been told by strong and knowledgeable warriors that I am far too bony for
even a king’s snack. As a warriors’ meal, you would be left with your belly
growling at its lack of proper fare.”

Laughter filled the hall.

If there was one thing the Ogre knew a great and abiding
respect for it was courage.

And this young prince, playful and filled with earnest
charm, had such in abundance it seemed.

Caedan prayed to the Select and to the One simultaneously
that his sister shared such a quality as well.

She may well need it before her ordeal concluded and she found
herself the filling in an Ogre Joining.