Legend of the Fae: A Highland Fantasy (The Dark Fae Saga Book 1) (3 page)

“Campbell’s plans to negotiate failed. I think talks of peace are far from our reach. McGregor is an unpredictable, fool-headed bastard. He dunna understand how crucial this alliance would be. I dinna think this battle did either side any good, but took the lives of many good men. In the meantime, we will need to increase the security of our borders. We ran into many of McGregor’s men unexpectedly on our journey home. There is no saying how many other stragglers were left wandering our borders.”

“If I receive the call to arms, my Laird, ye can count on me,” Alex vowed.

“I know I can, good friend.”

“I was told that ye wish to see me?”

“Is there anything to report while I have been away?”

“We are well prepared for the winter months, and the taxes we collected have paid for rebuilding the kitchen from the fire last year. As ye can imagine, Moira is one happy lass now that she can once again cook in the kitchen.”

“Aye, is that all?”

“Laird McFadden has been asking for ye. He wishes for a betrothal wit’ his daughter to unite our clans.”

Galen cringed and shook his head. He’d first considered the offer several months back and met with the infamous Lady Braelyn. Her behavior had turned him away from the idea of uniting their clans. He’d quickly realized the lass was no lady by any means. She was a harlot, with a well-known reputation of spreading her legs to any man who plied her with jewels and pretty words. It was part of the reason Laird McFadden had troubles marrying her off, and the reason why Galen refused the offer. Braelyn was a beautiful lass, but her looks only masked her eccentric behavior.

“My answer is still nay. If there is nothing else to report, I have something for ye to look over,” Galen said, as he rotated the map on his desk for Alex to see. “I have marked off the locations of Clan McGregor’s last known locations. Entering this war with the Campbells may not have been such a wise move. I fear we have aligned our fates with the devil himself, and I expect more lives will be lost in battles to come. We must strengthen our patrols here to the west and the north. Keep a keen eye on our borders. If anyone wishes to cross, we will charge a toll. The collection of cheminage will help pay the taxes.”

“Aye, my Laird.”

Alex picked up the map and began rolling it before placing it under his arm.

“There is something else. I need an updated accounting of our supplies recorded in the ledger.”

“Right away, my Laird. It truly is good to have ye home,” Alex replied, as he headed out the door.

Galen finished organizing the letters on his desk and headed toward his chamber. Once inside, he removed his dirt-stained leine and trews and threw them on the floor before getting into the tub that was waiting for him. The hot water felt good on his sore muscles. Though his body was relaxed, his head began to ache. Rubbing the water up and down his arms and face, he washed off the layers of dirt, sweat and grime that had accumulated over the past several weeks.

Within moments, Lenora, a young blonde-haired chambermaid, appeared with a tray of food. The aroma of roasted beef filled his nostrils, causing him to unconsciously lick his lips. But damn the food, he wanted the whiskey. One drink would be like elixir to a dying patient.

As Lenora was about to pour the whiskey in a small pewter cup, Galen called out, “Just leave the bottle. I dinna need no blasted cup.”

“Aye, my Laird,” she replied, as the cup fumbled out of her hand and onto the floor. “Would ye care for me to stay and help wit’ yer bath?”

Galen could hear a hint of seduction behind that innocent voice. Galen normally would not refuse an offer from such a young and beautiful lass, but the ache in his head pounded harder than the ache in his groin. Perhaps he would feast on her later.

“Nay, that will be all,” he said, as he draped a wet cloth over his face and leaned back into the tub.

Galen allowed the water to wash away his anger and built up anxiety. Pairing with Neville Campbell and his clan against McGregor had been a bold move, but a necessity. Galen’s army may have been small, but they fought with the strength and ambition of five hundred men. For the past several months Galen’s mind had been consumed by nothing but this mission and his responsibilities to the clan. As laird, his job was never done. A laird did not simply go on a merry holiday or take time away from his duties, as tempting as it sounded. He had to stay focused.

Feeling relaxed after a long soak, the pain in his head finally eased after he finished off the entire bottle of whiskey. Full from his meal and tipsy from the drink, Galen stumbled out of the cooling bath water. Walking over to the massive bed, he fell upon it sinking into the plush covers. Compared to the hard ground on which he’d slept for the past three months, the bed felt like a soft puffy cloud. Within moments, he felt as if he was lifted into the air, tangled in a web between awareness and dreaming. Sprawled out onto the bed buck-naked, Galen fell into a heavy slumber.

~ Chapter 3 ~

The stench of sweat filled the room as the two guards dragged the prisoner into the center of the atrium. Ella could practically taste the bitterness in her mouth. The man struggled to escape, but the firm grasp of the two guards prevented him from doing so. Ella watched in amusement as the rest of the men and women of the Order murmured amongst themselves.

This was the second attempt to breach the walls of the fortress in the past week. Talara must be getting desperate, Ella mused. By the looks of his tattered clothing and scars, the prisoner did not appear to be a man of court or high authority, but rather a warrior or hired assassin. 

“Why have you come here?” Ella demanded.

As she spoke the room fell silent.

“To prevent a war,” he shakily replied.

“War is inevitable,” Ella responded, articulating each word slowly and clearly. “If what you say is true, why did we find you sneaking around in the forest? My guards say you tried to run. Admit it, you were sent here to kill us.”

Her words and expression were as cold as the ice around her heart. Ella did not divert her eyes from the so-called messenger, and though she admired his bravery, it would only lead to his untimely death.

“No! I tried to run because I knew you would not believe me. I was given a message. I was told to be in the woods on this day for a meeting. There is a group of people who wish to stop the war. ”

“Who?”

“I do not know. Please, you must believe me.”

The man fell to his knees and sobbed.

“Perhaps we should listen to what he has to say,” Darius, the magistrate, suggested.

Ella glared at the other members of the high council. Whatever the messenger had to say mattered not. There was no denying it. Queen Alaris wanted her war and it was up to Ella and the rest of the Order to follow her command.

“There will be no hearings or tribunals this day,” Ella informed him.

“What of the prisoner, my lady?” one of the guards asked.

Ella looked back to the prisoner and sneered. Heartless, she replied, “Kill him, and make sure you send his body back to Greylyn. It will serve as a message. No mercy will be given to those who cross into our lands, for they would do no less to us.”

The guard wickedly smirked and eagerly removed his dagger from its sheath. But before he could raise its blade, Ella quickly stopped him; appalled by his action.

“Not here, you dim-wit! His blood will spoil the floor. Take him outside,” she ordered, flicking her fingers to shoo them away.

Ella stood, ignoring the man’s plea for clemency, and began walking toward the rear door. But just as she reached the doorway, Darius grabbed her by the arm.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Ella forcefully shrugged her arm out of his grasp. With lips pressed thin, she responded.

“Never…ever…question my judgment in front of the Order again. And find out who he has been talking to,” she said before turning her back on him and walking away.

How dare he humiliate me! How dare he question my authority!
Ella stomped her feet as she walked down the chamber’s corridor.  Her blood boiled.       

Opening the hidden door, a cool fresh breath of air calmed her fuming nerves. As she stepped into the cavern, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness before she closed the wooden door behind her. Above the castle doorway, two sconces burned bright, illuminating the narrow walkway. Hidden within a cavern deep below the earth, the secret chamber was perfectly concealed from the world above. The cavern was a large, hollowed-out cave, carved centuries ago by an underground volcano that was now dormant. As she walked toward the mouth of the cave, the long, pointy rock formations that adorned the ceiling looked as if she’d stepped inside the mouth of a dragon. Ella kept to the middle of the narrow path, as on each side of her the ground gave way to a bottomless void.

Ella climbed the spiraling stone steps of the tunnel that led her to the hidden exit. Topside, a shroud of mist and fog lingered in the air, blocking out the sun from beyond the trees. Doomed behind a cloud of darkness, it was as if eternal shade would forever dominate the sky. Trees which once had flourished were now blackened and the blades of grass had long lost their plush green color. The land was dying, as if a perpetual winter prevailed.

Ella stepped lightly upon the snow which dusted the ground. The chill of the wet snow caused her toes to curl. Tightening the strings of her cloak against the cold, she walked down an earthly slope toward the trees.

The woods were as quiet as death, which sparked her curiosity. The woods were known to be filled with all manner of creatures. There was only one reason they would abandon their homes or silence their movements; they detected her presence, or that of the Queen. Her movements were flawless, and the forest creatures should not have been aware of her. Ella’s emerald green eyes scanned the woods for movement, but all was still. Something was wrong.

It took only a few moments until the sound of hooves came trotting through the snow behind her. As Ella turned, she came face to face with her demon warhorse. Black as midnight, the creature bowed his head and neck to allow her to mount. Though a savage beast, he remained loyal and obedient. Ella slipped her hand along its wild mane and leaped up onto its back. Like a gust of wind, the horse jerked upright and took off in a fast sprint into the woods.

The horse moved as if it were flying, it dodged trees and branches with great precision and speed, leaving a cloud of snow in its path. As they moved closer to the edge of the forest, Ella lightly patted its neck to slow the horse before it crossed over into the clearing,
the forbidden territory
. Controlled by Alaris’s sister, Queen Talara, patrols heavily guarded the tree line to keep out Ella’s guardian Alaris and her kinfolk.

Banished from the court of the Fae, no Fae or creature that sided with Alaris was allowed to cross the ruins of Lochmoor, which rested along the edge of the forest. Lochmoor, the resting place for fallen Fae, was the only neutral zone between the two factions. Beyond the graves and stone wall was the Great Tree, the portal between the realm of the Fae and that of the mortal world.

Turning her horse, she led him down a path that followed the riverbed until she reached the sacred grove. Alaris’s followers gathered around the base of the small cliff where Alaris proudly stood. Favoring her human form, Alaris was dressed in a tightly-fitted black gown. Her ever-young, fair complexion made her beautiful.

Ella dismounted her horse
.
Her silvery dress dragged on the ground behind her, but the rest of her was wrapped tightly in a white fox fur cloak. Running her long, slender fingers alongside the horse’s side as she passed him, she walked toward the incline to stand next to Alaris. Brushing her bangs out of her face to one side, she adjusted the crown of woven thorns situated atop mass of curls. With a slight bow, Ella greeted the queen. Alaris nodded her head and faced the chattering crowd.

“Silence!” she called out, her voice as piercing as the sharp end of a sword. “No longer will we live in the shadows of Queen Talara and her motley crew of followers. No longer will we be forced into the darkness. We will fight and watch our enemies fall. And victory shall be ours!”

As Alaris spoke, Ella hung on every word. She could feel the vibration of Alaris’s voice as she addressed the war-hungry crowd. Alaris’s abrasive approach had won her many followers and admirers. Ella was honored to be standing next to her predecessor; it would soon be Ella standing before the Fae-folk, leading them into battle. Though her powers were not as great, her heart was just as black.

“The night of the royal babe’s celebration, we will strike. We will make our stand along the border of the Kingdom of Greylyn, and my sister Talara will regret the day she turned our world to blackness,” Alaris said, slamming her foot upon a rock, shattering it as if it were as fragile as glass.

As the crowd cheered, Ella could sense their anticipation and eagerness, which closely matched her own. After the cheers and applause had quieted they departed to ready themselves for battle. With the babe’s celebration in less than three weeks, it gave them plenty of time to plan and prepare.