Mercy's Prince (39 page)

“Part
of my gift of Healing, Your Majesty, is being able to see and feel things that
would aid in Healing. I believe that my ability to speak to the prince’s mind
has made that gift even stronger.” She swallowed again. Her voice grew more
sure.

“Valerian
found a nest of eggs, and using my Healing gift I discovered the Horde is
swarming, something they do only once every few hundred years. The men at the
Southern Garrison were able to seal up that nest, but there are others, we know
not how many. Obviously they have hatched and have killed three garrisons
already.” Merry frowned. “They are coming here and will not stop until they
have destroyed everything in their path. That’s why Valerian had to go ask the
great dragons to help us. It’s our only hope.”

Sir
Caelis stepped forward, sneering at Merry.

“It
is
not
our only hope. Your Majesty, with the weapons we have developed,
we can hold them off here and make the Horde pay dearly for their arrogance. Have
men grown soft, too weak to fight mindless beasts?”

“It
is not a matter of weakness, Sir Caelis,” Gregory said, projecting his voice. “Men
cannot fight an enemy that outnumbers them a thousand to one.”

“You
exaggerate their numbers.” Caelis glared at him.

“Indeed
I do not. Gateway Garrison was still standing when you traveled here. We saw it
attacked by such a vast swarm that it stretched to the horizon on the Plains of
Mohorovia.”

“Then
I will make sure we have a thousand thousand crossbow bolts ready for this ‘swarm’
when it comes.”

“Gentlemen.”
King Orland gestured for them to be silent. “Now is not the time to fight amongst
ourselves. I am calling a council of war tomorrow morning at nine of the clock.
Gather your ideas and present them there. Sir Gregory, have your men eat a
hearty meal and get a good night’s rest. You’ve earned it.” With those words,
he dismissed everyone.

Merry
began to leave with the others when the king said, “Not you, Lady Merry.” She
turned back. Sir Caelis met her gaze before he exited through a side door.

A
young boy wearing a dragon emblem on his tunic hurried toward King Orland. He
bowed.

“What
is your will, Your Majesty?”

Orland
removed his crown and handed it to the boy.

“Put
this away and then send one of the queen’s ladies here.” He paused. “What’s the
name of that new one, the young girl with the yellow hair?”

“Lady
Gwendolyn, Sire?”

“Yes,
she’s the one. Bring her here.”

“Yes,
Sire.” The page bowed and left the room.

Orland
glanced down at Merry, less imposing without the crown. Streaks of gray among
the darker hairs revealed his age. He winced and shifted on the throne as if
something pained him.

“Are
you all right, Your Majesty?” Merry took a step closer.

“Merely
an old injury that pains me in cold weather.”

“Where
is the injury? I only ask because I am a Healer.”

“My
physicians say nothing can be done, that I must simply endure the pain.” Orland
shrugged.

Merry
thought the king’s physicians incompetent for saying that, but she would never
speak the words aloud.

“If
you’re willing to let me look, perhaps I can help.”

Orland
studied her for a moment and then rolled up the leg of his velvet breeches to
expose his left knee.

“As
a young man I cracked it against a rock when I fell off a galloping horse.”

Merry
knelt beside him and cupped her hands around his knee. She closed her eyes and
Saw
the place of the old break and the bony spurs that had grown there. Merry
opened herself to the Healing gift until she
Saw
the spurs disintegrate.
When the bone was clean and whole, she sighed and opened her eyes.

Orland
straightened the leg and bent it several times. He stood and walked a few steps.
Then, humming to himself, he pivoted and danced back to the throne, seating
himself with a flourish.

“I
can’t begin to thank you, Lady Merry. The pain is gone, and the restricted
movement as well.” He breathed out a sigh of contentment.

“I’m
glad I could help, Your Majesty.” She smiled tiredly.

“I
saw a light in your hands and felt the power coming from them.” He paused and met
her gaze. “Truly you are gifted, my dear. I’ve never heard of abilities such as
yours before.”

“Apparently
it’s a very rare gift.”

Orland
nodded and sat back, studying her.

“You
know, since you are a royal cousin, I could make you my ward.”

“Valerian
was hoping you would do so. He believes I need protection from those who might
try to misuse my gift of Healing.”

“I
had not thought of that, but he is right.” Orland stared more closely at her. “I
was going to ask the queen to install you with her ladies, but perhaps as my
ward you should have your own rooms.” He looked up. “Ah, here comes Lady
Gwendolyn now.”

Merry
stood to meet the newcomer. Gwendolyn was about her age with fair skin, and her
hair was hidden under a veil. She walked gracefully, the folds of her yellow
gown swirling along the floor. When she reached the foot of the throne, she made
an elegant curtsy.

“Your
Majesty.”

“Lady
Gwendolyn,” said King Orland. “I want you to meet Lady Merry. She is a royal
cousin, and I have just made her my ward.”

They
curtsied to one another. Gwendolyn smiled, and Merry lost her apprehension when
she saw that it was genuine. This young lady was nothing like Hanalah.

“Pardon
me, Lady Merry, but is that a burrowing dragon?” Even Gwendolyn’s voice was
pleasant, unlike Hanalah’s.

“Yes.”
Merry coaxed the little dragon to her hand and held him up. “This is Sir
Edmund.”

“Sir
Edmund?” Orland sounded surprised. “I remember him.”

“Valerian
said he was a dragon-faced knight and suggested the name.” Merry met the king’s
eyes, and he laughed.

“Yes,
it’s appropriate.”

As
Merry continued to gaze at Valerian’s father, she wanted to be completely
honest with him, though her stomach fluttered, unsure of his reaction.

“Your
Majesty?”

“Yes,
what is it, Lady Merry?”

“I
think I ought to tell you that the prince has proposed marriage to me, and I
have accepted.”

Orland
stared at her, not speaking, while a spectrum of emotions passed over his face.
Finally, he sighed and spoke quietly.

“An
hour ago I would have been very angry that my son went against my wishes. I
still feel strongly that an alliance between the House of Alden and the south
is essential to bringing about a united Levathia.”

“Your
Majesty.” Merry made her voice as respectful as possible. “I am a southerner. And
I have something Lady Hanalah never will.”

Orland’s
eyes widened, but thankfully he was not angry.

“What,
pray tell, is that, Lady Merry?”

Merry
straightened and folded her hands to hide their trembling.

“Though
I am not yet trained in the ways of royalty, I do have royal blood, and I’ve
been gifted by the Most High to speak to the prince mind-to-mind.” She smiled
as something occurred to her. “That might be a useful talent for Valerian and
me to have in your court.”

The
king’s careworn face appeared younger when he smiled.

“My
dear Lady Merry, you are full of surprises.” Orland held out his hand, and
Merry happily grasped it. He brought it to his lips. “Though the choice of the
crown prince’s bride must, by law, have the consent of the Privy Council, I must
say you have earned
my
approval.” He clasped Merry’s hand between both
of his, and his face grew serious again. “Assuming, of course, we survive this
attack by the Horde.” He addressed Gwendolyn.

“I
want Lady Merry to move into Prince Valerian’s old apartment, and I want you to
be her lady instead of the queen’s. I will speak to Winifred myself.”

“Yes,
Your Majesty.” Gwendolyn curtsied.

Orland
spoke to Merry again.

“Tonight
Lady Gwendolyn will help you settle in and fetch whatever you require. But in
the morning I need you to describe the danger approaching us. Will you be able
to speak to a hall full of people?”

“Yes,
Your Majesty.” Merry’s voice quavered a little. “For you I would speak to all
of Levathia, though my knees will be knocking together.”

“Then
be gone, ladies,” Orland said with mock seriousness. “Until the morrow.”

Merry
curtsied and followed Gwendolyn to the door behind the throne. It opened into a
narrow spiral staircase which led to a second floor.

“There
are four apartments here, Lady Merry.” Gwendolyn pointed to the first door. “This
is the door to Queen Winifred’s, and Prince Valerian’s old rooms are next door.
Across the hall are King Orland’s rooms, and next to that the crown prince’s.”

“Is
that where Valerian lives now?”

Gwendolyn
paused, and her smile faded.

“Yes,
ever since Prince Waryn died, but oddly enough Prince Valerian only spent one
night there.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t
you know he was almost killed, too?”

Merry
remembered the scar Valerian had shown the boy whose arm she had Healed. She
nodded.

“Anyway,
these will be your rooms.” Gwendolyn tried the door, and it opened. “Good, the
page has unlocked it for us, and lit some candles, too.”

Merry
stepped into the room and immediately felt at ease. Though larger than her cottage,
it was simply furnished with a table, a few plain chairs, a single woolen rug,
and a tapestry on one wall.

“This
was Valerian’s old room?”

“This
is the solar, the sitting room. Beyond is the bedchamber.” Gwendolyn paused and
took a step closer. “Is it true, my lady, you are to marry the prince?”

Merry
nodded and swallowed noisily. She told Gwendolyn how they’d met, her ability to
speak to his mind, how she’d Healed him, and how he’d saved her from the river
dragon. Gwendolyn’s eyes widened.

“What
an incredible story, Lady Merry. I’ve never known two people who better deserve
one another.”

“Thank
you.” Merry smiled timidly. “I know there must be a rule about calling one
another ‘lady’ in public, but in here can’t we just use our names?”

“If
you wish. Merry.” Gwendolyn laughed. “Why do I feel slightly wicked for saying
that?” She turned serious. “Do you have any clothes other than what you’re
wearing?”

“I
have two dresses—” Merry stopped, aghast. “They’re in Valerian’s saddlebag, and
he is a long way from here.”

Gwendolyn
patted her arm.

“Don’t
worry your head, Merry. You and I are nearly the same size. You can wear my
dresses. I’ll have a servant move my trunk in here.” She rushed out the door,
leaving Merry with Sir Edmund and memories of Valerian.

***

Sir
Caelis stormed from the great hall and strode toward his room. He pounded his
fist into his palm. The cheek of that Brethren girl! How dare she disagree with
him in the king’s presence!

She
had to be Rafael’s sister. Obviously, she was devoted to the prince. There was
no way he could simply seduce her. Indeed, unless Valerian was dead, Caelis had
no hope of marrying her and securing his place as Orland’s heir. He might as
well have killed the child and be rid of him.

But,
might there yet be a way to use the boy to bend her to his will? Surely she had
been quite attached to him. From what Rafael had told him, this sister was the
only mother he’d ever known. Would she submit to him if he threatened Rafael’s
life?

He
entered the room and found Drew and Rafael sitting at the small table where Drew
was teaching the boy to write his name. They stood as he approached.

Caelis
stared down at Rafael. Though he now wore clean clothing, his hair was still
long and tangled.

“Is
your sister’s name Mercy?”

“Yes,
sir.” The boy’s eyes widened. “Have you found her? Where did you see my Sissy?”

Caelis
frowned at the memory of her insolence.

“Here
in the Keep.”

The
boy pulled on Caelis’ surcoat.

“Please,
Sir Caelis, please tell me where to find her!”

Caelis
grabbed Rafael’s shoulders and shoved him back to the chair.

“I
will tell you when I’m ready and not before. It all depends on you.”

The
boy’s lower lip trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes. Caelis continued,
relentless.

“Did
I not spare your life, Rafael? Have I not protected you, fed you, clothed you
over the last month? And asked nothing in return?” The boy nodded. “Then you
must help me persuade your sister to marry me. Will you do that, Rafael?”