Lycan Alpha Claim 3 (125 page)

She looked back at the Band who were glaring at Charles and said, “Their President... their leader, President Bowen...”

“They have no King?” Clarence asked.

“Quiet, run-the-mouth, let her finish!” Charles said, making Clarence huff and resume pacing.

Clara smiled. “My taking was a planned event.”

The men looked at her, mouths agape. “They were not simply passerby, taking an opportunity that presented itself?” Charles asked, looking at the Band from a different perspective, yet again.

Clara shook her head.

Bracus said, “The Princess was a choice. We wished—we hoped—she would be a liaison of sorts between our peoples. We needed to make peaceable contact and begin a negotiation. She seemed a good choice.” He rolled his massive shoulders into a shrug.

Clarence said, “Peaceable, really? Is
this
peaceable.”

James laughed. “Perchance he makes sense, Captain.”

Matthew grunted. “The best laid plans...”

“Run amuck...” Jacob finished.

Philip bellowed from his perch on the ground, “Be a good nursemaid, and fetch me another pull of water!”

Jacob raised his eyebrows. “Duty beckons.” He maneuvered around the corpses and went to Philip. Words such as “nag,” and “simpleton” could be heard. Clara was sure, had Philip been well and standing, there would have been a great deal more interchange of the physical variety
.

“Let us take care of the dead,” Bracus said. “Afterward, we will make a camp and speak more on this.

Charles's temper seemed to have cooled sufficiently enough to lend a hand. Clara and Evelyn walked to the edge of the forest. She found a mossy area where they could sit. It was most obvious that Evelyn was desperate for some feminine contact, and certainly Clara was. They sat down and began to talk in earnest.

Clarence and Charles helped haul each member of the
fragment
away from the border of the forest.

That got him thinking. “Where are the two Band that I saw leave the clan?” Clarence deposited one body on top of another. It had deep, slashing gouges, which allowed intestines to protrude like glistening worms laying open and shining in the glaring light of the day.

He used the back of his forearm to wipe sweat off his brow, mindful not to touch himself with hands that handled death.

James looked across the body at the pair. “Who?”

“Two males, like you.” Charles pointed at the gills on James’s throat.

A puzzled expression came over his face. “Captain!” he called, never looking away from Charles.

Bracus strode over. “What say you?”

“He said...” His eyebrows raised.

“Charles,” Clarence said.

“
Charles
said...” he nodded, continuing, “that two of the Band left our stronghold some hours past.”

Bracus's eyebrows met as one. That meant there was trouble and the clan was unprotected. He said as much and the other man, Clarence, spoke, intuiting his expression.

“They were speaking with a short, stout man, who said there was other Band?”

“It did not sound as if they were alarmed.”

“Stephen and Joseph?” James asked.

Bracus nodded. Why would they feel compelled to leave the clan in the first place? They disobeyed a direct order of protection? It did not make sense. Again Bracus wondered why Matthew and Clara had come to be here. He would get to the bottom of this puzzle just as soon as they were done with the grisly clean up. The wildlife would smell the perfume of death and come this night, scavenging all. He wished to be far from this place before that occurred.

Bracus glanced to where Evelyn and Clara huddled together and thought of his body’s response to her. He knew that somehow, rare as it was, she was a
select.
That greatly complicated things. His eyes sought and found Matthew, throwing another body on a second pile of
fragment
. Mayhap he had been overcome in some way.

“Captain?” Jacob broke into his thoughts. Then he heard it, horses
.

What now?
Deep in thought, Bracus had all but missed the upcoming threat.

He whipped his head around and saw with satisfaction that Matthew was sprinting toward the females.

Charles wondered what all the fuss was about, alarmed when he saw the huge male race toward Clara and the girl with golden hair. Charles squinted, and there it was, movement through the forest.

He heard Clarence exclaim, “Dammit all to Hades.”

Yes, that was about perfect.

As the deep purple of the royal flag of the Kingdom of Ohio came into view, Charles’s heart sunk in his chest. The Queen was here. She had followed them Outside.

Bracus stayed where he was, scanning his men, eyes sharp and ready. They looked at him for direction, and he made an elaborate circle with his finger. Philip rose unsteadily to his feet. Hand at his side, he covered his dressings as he walked slowly to where Bracus stood.

“Brother, who comes?”

Bracus shook his head, but Clarence responded, “Our Queen.”

Philip and Bracus looked curiously at him for his tone was not one of reverence, but one of weary resignation.

Charles said, “She will wish Clara's return.”

“Of course. And she shall have it, but not without a space of time to negotiate. This is fortuitous that your Queen is here. We can begin peaceable negotiations now, and Clara can assist in this,” Bracus said.

Clarence barked out a laugh, and Bracus frowned.

“Why do you laugh? What is funny here,
sphere-dweller
?” Philip said with gravel in his voice, thinking Clarence made a joke at their expense.

“He does not think there will be
negotiations
with Queen Ada,” Charles said.

“Why?” Bracus asked.

“Queen Ada negotiates with no one,” Clarence said.

Bracus looked at the entourage breaking into the meadow. An elegantly made copper staff with a deep violet flag flew stoutly and was held by a guard. The outline of the sphere was etched into the rich material of the flag. His excellent vision could just make out the symbol of one of their strange sea creatures in the center. His frown deepened.

“Is she contrary in nature? Is that what you imply? Speak quickly, as I must know how to proceed,” Bracus commanded.

“She is our monarch. That is all the explanation that we may give you,” Charles responded.

“Worry not. You will know much inside the first five minutes spent in her company.” Clarence spat out the last word like spoiled food.

Bracus became uneasy. He did not sense the easy loyalty that the Band shared with President Bowen in the
sphere-dwellers’
attitude toward their Queen. It was confounding. He had found Clara to be pleasant and of amicable disposition after she became aware of their purpose.

The Band spread out in the meadow, and Matthew returned to the group with Clara and Evelyn, while the Queen and her guard stood on the forest's edge.

They formed a loose circle and watched as the Queen moved toward them. The Band unsheathed their daggers as one, the smooth sound of metal sang in the silent meadow.

*

Henry saw the group of five fierce warriors, standing about Princess Clara. Two of the sphere's subjects he had known their entire lives. The troublemaker
,
now one of his guard, although only a tunnel sentry, Clarence and Charles, companion to the Princess.
This was going bad quickly,
he thought for the hundredth time. His eyes sharpened as he noticed the daggers in the hands of the
savages.
The way they held them spoke of easy grace and much use. Henry swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and forged ahead.

The Queen spied Clara standing like the coward she was in the midst of the strange
savages.
Ada took them in
.
Now these were men, real men. Her mouth watered slightly. Ada narrowed her eyes on Clara, taking in the disheveled hair. Her gaze fixed on the torn bodice and blood that covered her upper body. What had happened here? What had the stupid girl gotten herself wrapped up in?
No matter,
the Queen thought, she would return with the wretched girl, and after she’d been cleaned and scoured, they would determine if she had been defiled.
Hmm,
the Queen pondered,
she had better be pure.
She wanted nothing to impact the treaty.

All of this went through the Queen's drunken fog in seconds as they neared the group, and the horse stopped. She rose unsteadily from her cocoon as if she was in her royal throne room. Purposeful, determined, vital. She would have everything she wished,
savages
or no.

She was Queen Ada, reigning monarch of the Kingdom of Ohio.
She straightened to her full height.

Henry hurried over to assist their Queen, but she shot him such a withering that he halted in his tracks.

Bracus looked at the strange contraption. A half-egg assembly filled with voluminous pillows and a lantern of some kind which hissed with steam, the soft light catching the colors of the cushions within, metallic copper thread a light of its own.

Ada's First Guard hovered around her elbow, a hammered body armor of some lightweight metal was strung together with leather that ran the length of his torso, armpit to waist. Bracus immediately searched for entry spots in the guard’s armor. He had never fought in a war in which his enemy wore armor. It was disquieting. He could sense the Band searching as he was.

Clara looked to her side. She was not quite alone. Evelyn squeezed her hand. Clara refocused on the Queen. Rising from her moving throne she stood facing the group as Henry, First Royal Guard, stood loyally at her side. Clara felt sick, she wished to never see Ada again as the Queen gazed upon her with such lack of compassion and concern. Clara admitted, if only to herself, it was crushing to her spirit.

“Clara,” Queen Ada began, ignoring the Band as if they weren't there.

Clara curtsied. “Yes, my Queen.”

“You look terrible. Are you without pride?” Her stare pierced marrow and bone.

Clara swallowed her despair. No question as to the blood and marks of battle.

“I... I was a part of a....”

Matthew was suddenly behind her, and Clara struggled not to show open relief. Only years of training enabled Clara to obscure her emotions.

Ada flicked her eyes to the huge male who came to stand behind Clara.
Most curious,
the Queen thought. He lingered about the girl
.
His whole being seemed poised to take on whoever dared go near her. Ada paused. She did not like this male. He was entirely too concerned over Clara. That would not do. Then her eyes took in Charles, to the left of Clara. She scowled. That dreadful young man was like a weed that came up over and over in the same spot in the hot house. He would need to be dealt with as well. And
Clarence.
Her scowl deepened. He had obviously been behind the escape from the beginning. Traitor. So be it. Queen Ada liked to solve problems.
Why King Raymond never saw the logic of her precepts was beyond her. He was soft. She had always known that of him.

“Who are you?” Matthew asked, looking at the flag which bore the symbol of the sphere framing the Queen perfectly.

Queen Ada let her eyes begin at his leather-clad feet in shoes that laced up calves that swelled deliciously to powerfully constructed knees and joined thighs like timber. She was not accustomed to exposed flesh on a male. Shocking indeed, but she found she liked it. She liked it very much. She took in his trim waist, which broadened across a chest in a leather tunic that hung shoulder to mid-thigh. His hair swung free in loose waves that moved in the wind. But it was his eyes that captured hers. Utterly wild, he was an untamed thing. And as she stared, he placed a palm on Clara's neck, meant to steady, the hand encircling the girl's throat easily. And a look of relaxation slid into Clara’s eyes, as if she felt protected by the brute. This was not good, not good at all.

She liked Clara in a state of unbalance. Teetering.

“My Queen?” Henry asked.

Ada was snapped out of her reverie.

Matthew stared at her.

“I am Queen Ada, sovereign ruler of the Kingdom of Ohio,” she responded in her imperious manner.

Then she told Henry, without looking at him, “Bring my traveling goblet, guard.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Henry walked to the travel bag, which hung in a jeweled brass case welded onto the side of her traveling cocoon. He brought out the cup, fashioned by a blacksmith from her home sphere from the finest metal, titanium-lightweight and travel ready.

Matthew looked at the female and could not see a mustard seed of kinship between the two women. Clara had said they were mother and daughter, but he could not see it. This woman was as tall as some men. She had raven colored hair and a ferret's face, feral, sharp and too thin by far. Did they not have adequate food in their kingdom? He felt Clara tremble slightly. He knew that the Queen meant Clara physical harm. The other Band did not. That friend of hers, Charles, would know of her mistreatment. He must. Matthew wished opportunity to confer with them as this detail mattered.