The Prince of Powys (19 page)

Carthann inclined her head in compliance. When she returned,

Blaise unwrapped the silk cloth around the sheath. He didn’t

draw the blade forth but took the sheath with the sword stil

inside and wrapped Branda’s thin fingers around the thick swirls

of bronze that made up the hilt. He laid the mid-section of the

sheath against her face. The engraved heads of the entwined

snakes pressed upon her, fighting the foul fever with powerful

magic.

Branda lay under the power of the sword with Blaise at her

side. Her body jerked. He gasped. She writhed from the magic

working on her body.

He whispered, “You must fight. Let the power of Nuada heal

you.” His voice choked as a tear formed in his eye. “You cannot

leave me, Branda.”

“Her soul and the power of the sword have connected. I feel

a potent power in the air.” Neilyn’s voice rang with hope.

Blaise grasped her stil hand. “Branda, Branda,” he caled in

the fervid tone of prayer. He turned his head and blinked away

the tears that had formed when she did not stir. He felt the

warmth of the Druid’s hand upon his shoulder.

“Take the sword from her face and bathe her forehead and

cheeks. She needs a rest from the weight of Nuada’s magic,”

Neilyn said in a calm, soothing tone.

Blaise picked up the sword. It was heavier. He felt weighed

down and quickly laid it aside, then he patted her face with a

cool cloth. He set the rag down and wrapped his fingers around

hers, clinging tightly.

* * * *

she was. She heard herself mumbling aloud, not knowing what

she was saying. She seemed to float through the air. The

overpowering thought,
I am dying,
broke into her mind. She fought it. She would not die. Not now. She couldn’t open her

fought it. She would not die. Not now. She couldn’t open her

eyes. She tried to lift her head but didn’t have the strength to

budge a single muscle.

Even in this dazed state she felt warmth in her hand. Someone

gently pressed their fingers against her. Instinctively she knew it was Blaise. She felt his presence as she felt his touch. Blaise was with her. She would be al right. She mustered al her strength to

try to open her eyes but she couldn’t do it. It seemed like hours

had passed. A period of awareness gave way to senselessness

when she couldn’t bring forth a single thought.

Alert once more, she felt a source of power nearby radiating a

healing heat around her. Somehow, she knew it was Nuada’s

sword.

Bran’s voice caled out to her as he had in her dream. “Open

your eyes. Fight. Live.”

She realized it wasn’t Bran’s voice, but that of Blaise. Al the

muscles in her body tightened as she strained to open her eyes

and answer his cal. Her eyelids fluttered open.

“Neilyn, she wakens!”

It was Blaise’s voice. She tried to look at him but everything

was a blur of colors and shapes. She felt a rough, gnarled hand

on her forehead.
It must be Neilyn,
she thought.

“She is out of danger. The fever has passed. She wil be al

right.” The Druid’s tone was a mixture of gratitude and relief.

“Am I in the bower in Dinas Bran?” Branda asked.

“Yes, Princess, you’ve been il but you are recovering now.”

Carthann’s tone was faint and breaking as if she’d been crying.

It made Branda think of the way mothers always wept at their

daughter’s nuptial feast. “Did I miss my wedding?”

Blaise let out a warm chortle. “No! We could not have the

wedding without you.”

“In truth!” Branda heartily agreed.

“We wil wed as soon as you are wel.” He gazed at her

tenderly.

“Why do you say that?” She cocked her head to one side.

“Did you ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

“If I would wed you?”

“Yes, I did. Do you not remember?”

“Yes, I do remember. I remember that I have yet to give you

my answer.”

my answer.”

* * * *

return to Mercia now that the betrothal to Cuthred was no longer

a threat? He hoped she would stay with him but she’d never said

so. He thought she felt the same way about him as he did her.

Yet, she never said as much. It was his fault. She wouldn’t have

been injured if he hadn’t tricked her and taken her hostage. Did

she blame him for al of that? An invisible weight pressed against

his chest. “Would you return to Mercia then, Branda?”

Before she could answer Elisedd strode in.

“I hear she is wel.” Elisedd scanned the room, and then his

eyes fel upon Branda’s face. “Good to have you back, Princess.

I picked daffodils for you.”

She glanced at the window ledge and the bright golden

flowers. “My thanks, King Elisedd.” She winked at him.

“It is good to have you wel, girl,” he said then turned to

Blaise. “My son, you have proven yourself a true Prince of

Powys. You shal have the honor of escorting the Princess to her

father.” He flashed Branda a toothy grin and curved his lips

down into his usual scowl as he continued to address Blaise. “I

command you to return the Princess and the ransom taken from

Cuthred to King Ethelbald of Mercia. Let him know the kingdom

of Powys wishes peace. Tel him of his honorable daughter who

risked her life for yours, and of the Druid of Powys, who, with

the powers of the sword of Nuada, healed her wound and

nursed her from the edge of death to ful recovery.” He placed

his hand affectionately on Blaise’s shoulder. “Let Ethelbald know

that life is precious and there has been too much bloodshed

between the people of Powys and Mercia. Use the gold and the

return of his daughter as a treaty of peace, my son.”

“I shal, Father.”

Branda sat up. “Have I no say in this? You asked me to wed

you, did you not?”

“But you said no.”

“I have not given you any answer.” She leaned her head back

and gazed into his eyes.

“Then what do you say?” Blaise was speechless. He couldn’t

breathe as he waited for her response.

breathe as he waited for her response.

The room fel silent.

“I cannot decide such until I know why you wish to marry

me.”

He bent down on one knee beside the bed and took her hand

in his. “Branda, if you pledge your troth to me I wil be the most

fortunate man on Earth. There is no other woman like you in al

of Powys, Wessex or Mercia.”

“You say you wish to wed me because I am like no other

woman? What is that? You must have a better reason to show

you love me.”

“Princess, you make me laugh.”

“Good, very good. That is reason enough to wed.”

He sat on the bed at her side and tipped his head to hers.

Their lips colided in a heady explosion of heat. Shivers of delight spiraled through them. They were no longer aware of the

onlookers. Blaise and Branda floated on a soft wispy cloud in a

world al their own where their hearts beat as one.

About the Author:

Drawing on her love of a happy ending,

Cornelia Amiri has written over a dozen

books, including the Celtic/Romances:
Druid

Bride, Queen of Kings, The Prince of Powys,

The Wolf and The Druidess, A Fine Cauldron

of Fish, Timeless Voyage, The Celtic Fox, The

Scottish Selkie, The Celtic Vixen,
and
Druid

Quest
. She has two Steampunk/romances
To

Love A London Ghost
a n d
As Timeless As

Love A London Ghost
a n d
As Timeless As

Stone
under her pen name of Maeve Alpin.

Cornelia lives in Houston Texas as does her

son, her granddaughter and her cat.

Please

visit

her

website

at

http://CelticRomanceQueen.com

Other Books bu Cornelia Amiri:

A Fine Cauldron of Fish

Druid Bride

The Wolf and The Druidess

Queen of Kings

Peace Love Music

and under the pen name of Maeve Alpin
, To

Love A London Ghost.

Also from Cornelia Amiri:

The Wolf and the Druidess

by Cornelia Amiri

Print ISBN: 9781615722471

Medieval Fantasy

Novella of 19,000 words

In days of old, deep in the dark woods,

Druidess Seren discovers a wolf shape shifting

into the bare, muscular Celtic God, Gwydion.

Seren’s mind turns from the Samhain feast to

wicked thoughts of feasting on Gwydion’s

yummy goodies. Will this new found love last

beyond a Samhain tryst to survive the ultimate

long distant relationship of a god in the

otherworld and a woman on Earth? Is the love

Gwydion and Seren share strong enough to

overcome the social barrier between an

immortal god and a mortal woman? Will a

warning of danger from beyond the grave

destroy the sensual magic brewing between the

wolf and the druidess?

Also from Eternal Press:

The Morning Afterlife

by Sonnet O’Dell

eBook ISBN: 9781615725687

Young Adult Paranormal

Novella of 16,786 words

If remembering could bring about the end of

everything, would you still try?

Karrin wakes up on the side of the road with

selective memory loss; she knows her name

and age but nothing more about herself. She

walks the highway back to a town to find all

but a few people have disappeared and that

there are strange but beautiful beings hunting

them down. It seems to her that some great

apocalyptic event happened but she just

doesn’t remember it.

Karrin however is in more danger than she

realizes as someone in her new group of

friends is more deadly to her than those

hunting them down. When she finds one of

them, a young man roughly her own age named

Gabe injured, she goes against all she’s been

told and helps him. Gabe in return wants to

help her, help her to remember. Karrin’s

memories, however, could put her in even