Before leaving, Griogair said, “It’s a shame we had to change our plans.” He gave the commander a hard look. “You did not encounter any of us, certainly not the queen. None of you did.”
“A shame indeed, Your Highness. The queen is so busy. Perhaps we will catch a glimpse of her another day.” The Watcher saluted, his fist over his heart.
Griogair nodded and stepped through the blue ball of light. When he arrived in the Halls of Mist, Elder Oron approached. “I just saw Queen Eilidh’s transport returning to the Hall. What’s wrong?”
“
Athair
,” Griogair said. “That’s the word we’ve been hearing, over and over, growing more frequent by the day.”
“Yes,” Oron said impatiently. “Everyone near the Caledonian Hall can. The conclave sent for Imire, as you and I discussed.”
Griogair shook his head. “When I moved away from the Hall, I couldn’t hear the call anymore. Queen Eilidh lay in the transport next to me.”
“Then…” Oron glanced toward their kingdom’s Hall.
“It’s not her voice.
Athair
.” Father. “Maiya is grieving for Munro.”
“I understood Eilidh believed the princess possessed stone talents,” Oron said.
“She said she sensed them because they were different than her own. But as a bonded faerie, she also wields stone talents. Now I wonder if what she detected was merely the difference in druidic magic. The boy Jago told us Princess Maiya spoke to him. We never believed him.”
Oron nodded. “So Maiya is an astral faerie?”
“It appears so. I don’t know why I didn’t think of the possibility when we noticed the peculiar connection between her and Lady Druid Demi’s son. Maiya clearly has the power of a faerie, but if she is like him, she may also have the ability to create talismans.”
“These children must be protected at all costs.”
“This certainly does lend credence to your idea that whoever took Lord Druid Munro was after Princess Maiya. Who might have known, though? Either way, if the princess is aware of her father’s death, separation from her mother might distress her further.”
“I agree,” the elder said. “I’ll go speak with the child. I’ve not worked with one so young, but if she’s powerful enough to project at her age, she’ll need guidance from the start.”
The pair returned to the Caledonian Hall, where Griogair ensured Eilidh was resettled in her rooms. She complied with those who tended her without objection. Seeing her stare so vacantly pained him. When the nurses had put the queen to bed, Griogair sat next to her and took her hand. “Come back to me, my love. Please. I need you. We all need you.”
Eilidh stared at the ceiling, motionless and silent. Griogair sat with her for a long time. He had work to do, letters to write, appointments and appearances to cancel, excuses to make, and the normal day-to-day running of a kingdom to oversee. Elder Oron had helped with the conclave. They’d deferred any matters of law, sentencing, or disputes that would require Eilidh’s personal intervention.
He couldn’t sit with her forever. He shouldn’t have even spent the time he already had. His entire life, he’d never expected love, not like this. Then came Eilidh. The first time he met her at Eirlioc Falls, Cadhla had been queen. His son had been missing, and Eilidh arrived like a gift. He’d flirted with her, used his influence and power to try to impress and persuade her.
The whole series of events seemed comical now. She would become an incredibly powerful faerie, overshadowing him more with every passing month as her experience and confidence grew. It never bothered him that she loved Munro more. Although Griogair was not a self-deprecating sort, he felt grateful to be with her. Another queen might have cast him aside when her own power grew to the point where she no longer needed him. Magic may have selected Munro as her soul-mate, but
she
had chosen to love Griogair.
Finally, he stood and kissed Eilidh’s brow. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll be back soon.” As he left, he nodded to the nurses hovering in the background, and they bowed to him silently.
Outside Eilidh’s rooms, a rather put-out Prince Koen argued with one of the Watchers. When Griogair appeared, the younger prince’s eyes narrowed. “What is this with the queen?” he demanded.
“She is not to be disturbed,” Griogair said. He turned toward his own rooms and signalled for Koen to follow. How tedious of the boy.
“I am her mate. A visit from me would not disturb her,” he said. “She always welcomes me to her private chambers.”
Griogair knew the boast wasn’t true. Eilidh hadn’t lain with Koen since their mating ceremony. She confessed to Griogair she wouldn’t likely do so again. Unfortunately, she found Prince Koen as tiresome as Griogair did.
He led Koen to his study and gestured for him to go inside. Griogair offered him a drink. Koen accepted and sat without waiting to be invited.
“The queen is ill,” Griogair said.
Koen sat up. “Ill? Have you sent for healers?”
Griogair didn’t bother answering the idiotic question. “It is vital word does not get out,” he said. “Which is why I suggested you stay in Canton Dreich.”
“What has befallen her?” Koen asked.
Griogair tapped his fingers on a nearby shelf. He couldn’t justify keeping the truth from Koen. Regardless of how much he disliked the prince, he was Eilidh’s third mate. “Elder Oron and I have discussed the matter. So be aware nothing I say here should leave this room. Do you understand?”
Koen bristled at Griogair’s authoritative tone but gave a sharp nod.
“Lord Druid Munro is dead.” As he said the words aloud, Griogair realised how strongly he felt the loss. He’d been so worried for his mate, he’d not taken time to think what the death of the human who had become like a brother would mean. Suddenly, his duty to Caledonia seemed that much lonelier. In brief terms, he described to Koen what happened to Munro at the portal.
Athair.
Koen’s head whipped around. “Did you hear that?”
Griogair nodded. It was louder than before. “Princess Maiya was with her father when he was taken. She grieves for him.”
“She possesses a strong astral talent, then,” he said.
“Oron is with her now. As Eilidh’s heir, she must be protected. Until we learn what happened to Munro, she will remain here.”
Koen sat in silence. Griogair could see the thoughts ticking by in the younger faerie’s mind. “Do you believe the loss of her druid will kill our mate?”
Griogair’s chest tightened. That Koen would speak callously of such an eventuality angered Griogair. On the other hand, the young prince had not been born Caledonian. He owed Eilidh only gratitude and loyalty, not love. “Not kill, I think, but I cannot say how long she will remain in her current state. Until the Druid Hall announces Munro’s death, we will keep her condition quiet. That will allow Oron and the healers to determine a prognosis. It’s too soon to know.”
“I’d like to see Eilidh. My presence may comfort her.”
Griogair shook his head. “As head of the joint conclave, Oron has appointed me guardian of the throne, according to Eilidh’s wishes. I will quietly fill her duties until either she recovers or the conclave declares her incompetent to rule. If the latter happens, I will hold the throne for Princess Maiya until she comes of age in ninety-nine years’ time.” He hated saying the words aloud.
Koen opened his mouth to speak, but Griogair cut him off. “I’m sending you back to Caledonia. You will be required to take on some of my duties while I fulfil Eilidh’s and look after her and the princess. I will, of course, keep in touch. The moment we have news, I will inform you.”
Koen scowled. “As you did
the moment
she fell ill?”
Griogair couldn’t hold his temper any longer. “I have had more important things to do than worry about you. Now, go back to Caledonia and make yourself useful. When our mate recovers, she will be interested to hear whether you pulled your weight when she needed you.”
“Assuming she recovers,” Koen said.
“If I were you, I’d send for a priest and pray that she does. Only by Eilidh’s grace do you have a position in this kingdom. If Maiya is raised as queen in her infancy with me as regent, your place may not be as secure.”
Koen stiffened. He rose and tilted his head to Griogair in a slight bow. “Of course I pray for our mate’s return to health,” he said. “Despite the temptation such power would bring, no doubt you also wish for Eilidh’s recovery. After all, you claim to
love
her, do you not?” He smirked.
Griogair held himself as still as he could. “Go to Caledonia. I will send word if you are needed.”
Unlikely
, he thought.
Koen left, fuming with frustration. Griogair took a few minutes to calm himself before he followed, his mind turning to the many tasks his new duties demanded.
∞
Tràth had overheard Aaron’s speech to Imena and hoped the encounter hadn't put the princess in a foul mood. The Caledonian delegation had gone over their plan backward and forward for days as they prepared for the journey. Despite their excellent preparation, Tràth didn't hold high hopes. He kept reminding himself he was not a trained diplomat. Two weeks ago, he had been lying in a drug-induced stupor. Why would Eilidh trust him with something so important?
The princess approached, and he bowed. “Good evening, Your Highness.”
“And I hoped we would be friends.”
“Forgive me, Imena. Of course we shall.”
She smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes. “I'm delighted to hear you say so. I suspect the same can’t be assumed of Lord Druid Aaron.”
“That would be a shame. Caledonia's friendship with the Druid Hall has rendered immeasurably positive consequences. I don't think it's unfair to say Caledonia's absorption of the former kingdom of Andena is owed, at least in part, to their support.”
Imena raised an eyebrow. “I'm surprised to hear such a frank admission.”
Tràth shrugged. “There is no point in denying the truth nor trying to hide what everyone knows. For millennia, Caledonia has been a small and moderately influential kingdom. Until now. Not even Queen Eilidh expected to assume Queen Vinye's gates. But the Stone remembers the draoidh.”
“You are bonded to one of their Hall. Still, I must ask. Do you believe them to be like the ancient fae sorcerers?”
Tràth did not hesitate. “I
know
them to be.”
“Shall we walk, Tràth? Suddenly, I do not wish to spend the evening nitpicking over how many crates of
this
we’ll ship, how many carts of
that
we'll purchase, or for how much.”
“As tempting as your offer sounds, there is much work to be done. Won’t delaying our duties only make the task more onerous?”
Imena smiled. “Yet you insist you are not a diplomat.”
Tràth felt every person in the room watching the exchange. He smiled. “Yes, I do.”
“Do you have a list of your opening proposals?”
He hesitated only for a moment before turning to signal to one of his staff. The faerie stepped forward and with a low bow offered the princess a parchment.
She accepted the document and read over it. “These requests and suggestions are not unreasonable. Most in your position would open with an impossible offer, prepared to accept something workable.”
“I'm not a trained negotiator. I thought we would waste less time if Caledonia proposed arrangements we believed would benefit both our kingdoms.”
“An unusual but pragmatic approach. Let us consider saving even more time.” The princess handed the list to a short, oddly stubby-looking faerie. “Is anything on this list something to which Zalia cannot agree?”
“Well, Your Highness, I'd be more comfortable committing to half this production in iron, and they’re offering a third less than we currently receive from Caledonia for sapphires and a quarter less for emeralds. I'd hoped to not pay nearly so much for honey or wine.”
“Is there anything for which the terms are better than anticipated?” she asked.
The diplomat hesitated. “Surely, Your Highness…”
“Please answer me.” Her tone was sharp and impatient.
“I'm pleased to see the inclusion of several rarer healing herbs at a surprisingly reasonable price. Having these stores would make an enormous difference if we begin importing this winter. The price at which Caledonia will export pearls is, I must say, generous.”
Princess Imena nodded. “I thought so as well.” She turned back to Prince Tràth. “As much as I'd hate to do anything which might shorten your stay in Zalia, you stated you would not consider the offer I made last morning until these talks were concluded. Therefore, let me propose this: I will accept your terms as written with a minor modification of halving the iron production expected from Zalia on one condition.” Although he did not touch his power, Tràth had the odd sensation of time slowing. He knew what she was preparing to say. “Become my mate.”
Tràth stared. He took several moments to recover. Judging by the expressions on the faces around him, he'd waited too long to reply. “I'm stunned,” he said.
The smile twitched on Imena's lips. “So it seems.”
“Perhaps we should take that walk after all,” Tràth said.
∞
Aaron and his scribe left the Tafgul archives after a few hours. He'd seen many runes he couldn't interpret, but in fairness, he hadn't expected to be able to read them all. Only Munro could decipher everything put in front of him, although Douglas' abilities came in at a close second. However, Aaron didn’t come here to read.
His intention in visiting the archives had been to learn how many runestones Zalia possessed and how easily they would allow the druids to access them. The keepers had few, if any, Zalian artefacts in the library at the Halls of Mist. It was in their interest, and that of the druids, to find writings created by the original draoidh. Unfortunately, he lacked the experience to date most artefacts.
Aaron had, in fact, made some interesting discoveries. These archives contained an entire section devoted to lore of the Source Stone. Aaron would ask Douglas or Munro to have a look and maybe one of the keepers. He and Cen couldn't make heads nor tails of many of them, but Aaron wanted to avoid alerting Zalian scholars of his interest. Not yet, anyway. Instead, Cen took notes of some of the odder references for the others to study once Aaron returned.