would be safe.
***
“Do you think it’s a trap?” Vulcan
asked his brother, who was sitting
atop his stallion and staring at the
torches that lit the way to Renald
Castle. It would soon be night but
there was enough light to show the
way.
“There is the possibility,” Varian
replied easily. “Although it seems
unlikely with the people still running
about. Perhaps he has already fled?”
Vulcan snorted at that and removed
the helmet from his head. Varian did
the same.
“The only way to remove Bael from
Montak is to kill him.” He did not like
Bael. He was going to kill him and
take pleasure in doing so, but he could
not help but grudgingly respect a man
who was so dedicated to his kingdom.
“Will you give me the honor?”
Varian requested calmly, returning the
helmet to his head and taking the reins
in his hands once more. Loki shifted
under him as Varian waited for the
response.
“No. Bael is mine.” Vulcan donned
the helmet and twisted his body to
look back to the numerous warriors
sitting astride their horses, awaiting his
instruction. “Expect attacks from
anywhere. Be on the alert.”
The general at his back sent the
command through the ranks and when
a hush descended over the party,
Vulcan urged Shadowfax forward.
When they came upon the village, he
leaned further over the stallion, urging
the beast faster. Screams rent the air
as the people began to scramble out of
the way of the charging horses and
into their homes.
Vulcan was in for another surprise
when he noticed that both the
drawbridge and portcullis were down.
He drew up short, tugging at
Shadowfax’s reins as he stared up to
the battlements. It had to be a trap. He
freed his shield from its place beneath
his leg and lifted it into the air.
“Shields!” Varian called out loudly,
and those cries went up among the
man. He looked to Vulcan and
nodded before urging his mount into a
gallop. Vulcan was right by his side
and the two brothers were the first to
cross into the deserted courtyard.
Vulcan was about to tell Varian that
they were probably hiding in the
castle when two maids ran out of the
castle and almost fainted at the sight
that greeted them: what seemed like
hundreds of armed soldiers sitting atop
horses were piled into the courtyard.
One of the maids had been carrying a
basket of dirty clothes. It fell limply
from her fingers and she crossed
herself, backing up slowly to the
entrance.
“Where is your king?” Vulcan
demanded and she froze. Her mouth
opened but nothing came out.
Varian removed his helmet and
stared at the other maid. He smiled at
her and she tried to smile back. “We
are not going to hurt you. Where is
Bael of Montak?”
“In his study, milord,” the maid said
softly, her gaze widening as it drifted
to the numerous men in the courtyard.
Suddenly, a scream rang out and the
other maid began running back into
the castle. He leapt from Shadowfax
and approached the maid who
remained immobile. She swallowed
loudly when he was but feet from her.
“Your king is in his study?” Vulcan
asked incredulously, wondering if the
messenger had lied to him when he
said that he’d delivered his missive to
Bael. In it, Vulcan had told Bael that
he would ride out to Montak soon.
Had given him warning to gather
whatever men he could before he
arrived. And Bael had ignored it? Did
the man wish to die?
The maid nodded.
“You will take us there,” Vulcan
commanded and she flinched. Varian
was off of his horse and approaching
them now. Warriors jumped from
their stallions and trailed their king
with their swords drawn as he was led
through several passageways and
finally to an oak door. Vulcan pushed
the door in and a surprised but
otherwise unruffled Bael looked up at
him.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Vulcan snarled, pointing a finger at
Bael, who was dressed casually.
Where was his armor? And his
sword? And his bloody men?
Bael lifted the quill in his hand and
replied evenly. “Is this not the
welcoming you expected?”
“Where are your men?”
“Dismissed,” Bael answered in a
quiet voice, pushing to his feet. “There
was no point in having a massacre at
Montak this day.”
Vulcan watched as his brother
moved
behind
the
bookcases,
thoroughly searching the room.
When he emerged, he and Vulcan
knew that he’d found nothing.
“If they were hiding behind the
bookcases, Varian, I would have
thought to mention that.” He looked
back to Vulcan and the grin faded.
“My King, I am prepared to face
whatever punishment you intend for
me if you will grant me one wish.”
“You are in no position to bargain,
de Renald,” Varian reminded him
easily.
Bael glared at Varian. “Did you
think your hair would protect your
head from a poisoned arrow? A
sword?”
A smile was Varian’s only response
to the obvious jab.
“What
wish?”
Vulcan
hissed,
stepping further into the room.
“Don’t harm my people. They have
done nothing—”
“Contrary to your belief, de Renald,
we do follow a code of honor.”
Varian let his lazy voice carry through
the room. Bael glared at Varian.
“It seems that belief is contrary to
almost every northern kingdom that
Morden controls—”
“Enough!” Vulcan roared. “Have
you anything to say about the charges
I’ve placed against you?”.
“I only wish to say that I did not
know that it was—” he looked up to
find a dozen or so curious warriors
watching on and cleared his throat
before continuing, “—
her
and had I
known, it would not have happened.”
Vulcan stared at Bael for a long
moment before he spoke loudly.
“Varian remain. Everyone else, out!”
The soldiers filed out and Varian
pushed
the
door
in.
Vulcan
approached Bael, who to his credit,
did not flinch in the face of the king’s
anger.
“You did not know that it was my
wife?”
Bael nodded and replied, “You may
not believe it, but I do not remember
even seeing your wife before she
awoke next to me.”
Vulcan’s eyes grew even harder as
his nostrils flared. He couldn’t help
but picture Bael touching his wife,
kissing her soft lips, loving her body.
“How can it be that you don’t
remember taking her to your bed?”
Bael shifted his eyes from Vulcan to
Varian as Bael replied. “I do not
remember anything but waking up
next to the queen.”
Something
tugged
at
Vulcan’s
memory. The last time he’d spoken to
his wife, she’d mentioned something
similar about not remembering. His
eyes narrowed on the king. Had they
even thought ahead to correlate their
stories?
“Did she seduce you?” Vulcan bit
out, watching as confusion flickered
across
Bael’s
eyes
before
understanding dawned. Always an
impatient man, Vulcan dangled the
possibility of freedom, of life, before
Bael’s eyes. “Tell me, Bael, was it my
queen who seduced you? For if she
did, I may be inclined to banish you
rather than separate your head from
your body. Answer well, for your life
depends upon it.”
He saw confusion move across
Bael’s face, followed by hope, then
anger came, but hope still warred
within. His eyes narrowed and he
waited for the answer.
Bael suddenly shook his head. “I
already told you what happened. I
remember nothing save being with
Lady Calista before waking next to
your wife.”
“Calista?” Varian and Vulcan both
asked at the same time. Bael looked to
both men and nodded.
“
She
propositioned
me
.”
Vulcan shook his head and scowled.
He was going to take pleasure killing
the bastard.
“At the ball, she propositioned me.
She came to my chambers.” He
paused briefly when Vulcan growled
and drew his sword. “Nothing
happened. We talked and she left.”
“You talked?” Vulcan roared and
Varian asked, “What else did you do,
besides talk?”
“If you’re implying that I corrupted
your innocent cousin then—”
“I am not implying anything. What
else did you two do? Did you share
drink?”
Bael nodded.
“First Calista, and now my queen. I
will take pleasure in gutting you.”
Varian’s gloved hand suddenly
settled on Vulcan’s armored shoulder
and he moved forward, forcing Bael
to look from one side to the other,
from the angry and violent-looking
brother, to the calm and easy-going
one whose stillness made him uneasy.
“What did you drink?” Varian
continued, and Vulcan pushed his
anger away for the moment and
listened to the question. Where was
Varian going with this? His fingers
itched to swing his sword.
Bael looked thoughtful before he
shrugged. “Ale. I think it was ale.”
“And after she left, you awoke next
to the queen?”
He nodded slowly. Vulcan shrugged
off his brother’s hold and took a step
back, allowing other theories to enter
his mind. Both Jaisyn and Bael
claimed to have no memory of being
together before waking in the same
bed. Both were adamant with their
stories. Bael even risked death to hold
onto his.
“The ale,” Varian was saying and
Vulcan turned to him. “Whose was
it?”
“Mine.”
Varian nodded and continued, “And
you both drank it?”
Bael shook his head, and his eyes
widened
before
narrowing
dangerously. “No. Lady Calista said
ale was too strong for her. It made her
ill.”
Vulcan ran a hand over his face.
Were they both innocent? Had
someone staged this? And if so, to
what purpose? When he removed it,
both Varian and Bael were staring at
him. His brother had a peculiar
expression on his face that Vulcan
intended to investigate later on.
Approaching Bael, he grabbed the
younger man’s tunic, hauling him up
the few inches to face him.
“You swear on your kingdom that
you have no memory of bedding my
wife?” Vulcan demanded softly, his
hard eyes piercing into Bael’s.
Bael locked his gaze to his king’s.
When he spoke his words were grave.
“I swear on my kingdom and my life.”
***
Lydia knew something had changed
when Jaisyn came to supper with a
thoughtful expression on her face. In
the past weeks, she’d seen the queen
look depressed and defeated but never
thoughtful. She thought back to the
scrawny old man she’d seen walking
toward the Sanctuary.
Anhur was back.
Was it possible he had told Jaisyn
something? From where she was
seated at the table, Lydia analyzed
Jaisyn efficiently as the conversation
buzzed around her. Calista asked a
few questions, which she answered in
low, clipped tones.
By the time supper was over, she
was curious to know what Anhur had
told the queen. She had to restrain
herself from cursing his name until she
arrived in her room. Lydia had never
liked Anhur and would have used
Zora’s potion on him had he not been
a Seer. No doubt, he would have