Queen of Hearts (The Risen King) (8 page)

Turning from the wall, she knelt down next to an empty planter and allowed some drops of blood to dribble inside. She called up her mother.

“Well?” Leanansidhe stood with her hands on her hips, looking at her daughter with expectation.

“
It has begun.”

A wicked grin broke over the woman's face. “Excellent. Get back to your room. We don't want them to be suspicious. I need you there awhile longer.”

Guinevere bowed her head. “Yes, mother.”

Leanansidhe eyed her for a moment more, but instead of saying anything, she just shook her head and disappeared.

Guin stared at the place where the powerful faery had been as she listened to the battle around her. She was safe in the castle, she had no doubt about that. But outside the walls was a war zone, literally. The battle had begun, and she was in the middle of it. And so were a dozen men she had at least pretended to care about for most of her human life. A tiny thread of guilt began to worm its way into her brain. It poked at her and tried to make her feel it.

With a snort, she brushed it away and trotted back down the stairs. With great care, she sneaked back to her room and pulled the guards back out the door. She lay them against the walls and tapped their heads again. Just as they started to rouse, she ducked back inside and shut the door behind her.

“What happened?” one of the guards asked as he pressed his hand to his head.

“
I don't know. Did we fall asleep?”

Two sets of eyes went wide and they both scrambled to their feet as fast as they could go. They looked around, but no one was near. One pounded on the door. “Hey, you in there. Are you all right?”

Guinevere grinned on the other side of the door. She sniffed and called back, “No. You have me locked in a cell and won't let me go help my husband. Of course I'm not all right.”

Audible sighs of relief reached her ears through the wooden door. She settled back onto the bed and began plotting her next move.

*~*~*

NINE

*~*~*

Aiofe raised her bow and began plucking faeries off the stone guardians as they struggled to close the gates. The vile creatures dropped like boulders from the stone arms, falling into the surging bodies below.

Around her, the knights had formed a circle to protect her and the other archer, Eden, from the attacking horde. On either side of them were the shouts and calls of the other forces of Faery coming to the aide of Castle Daor.

Excalibur pierced through the chest of a glassy-eyed knight of the North. The man grunted but did not fall. He lifted his own sword and swung it clumsily at Arthur's side. The king batted it away with his chain-mailed arm and raised a booted foot. He kicked with all his might and sent the knight stumbling backward. Aiofe swung around and sank an arrow through the knight's eye socket. He dropped in an instant.

Arthur spun and sank his sword into the cheek of a faery that was battling Bors. It collapsed to the ground. “The heads,” he called to those around him. “Aim for the heads.”

Bors nodded and brought the ball of his flail whipping around. It collided with the skull of a fire sprite and sent it sprawling into a pack of pixies. “Happily,” he replied.

The knot of knights and faeries protecting the castle moved further into the fray, leaving a trail of bodies between them and the stone giants at the gates. The arches on the wall continued dropping any stragglers that managed to escape the fists of the guardians.

“Do you still love her?” Aiofe's voice came from behind Arthur and was punctuated by the cry of a faery as her arrow met its mark.

Excalibur collided with the sword of a blond-haired faery that used to serve Titania. “Do you really want to discuss this now?” He swung, ducked, and swung again before separating the faery's head from her shoulders and turning to face Aiofe. Her back was to him and he watched as she reached for another arrow. Her quiver was empty, though, and her hand grasped at the air.

“To me,” she shouted at the top of her lungs. The air filled with a buzzing, shimmering light and suddenly the quiver was full once more. She snatched an arrow, nocked it, and spun. The arrow sang through the air to sink into the gaping maw of a goblin about to bite one of Mab's soldiers. The man gave her a nod and switched opponents.

“
Well, do you?” The bow string twanged again, but she didn't turn to face him.

Arthur sighed and looked around. The air was thick with the sounds of battle and all his knights were engaged in fierce combat, but the area immediately around him was clear.

“Aiofe, look,” he began. “She was my wife. It was a long time ago, a very long time ago, but she was still my wife, my queen. It's very complicated. I--“

An arrow shot past his head so close it took several strands of blond hair with it. A banewolf's howl was cut short and Arthur spun in the opposite direction of the sound. Eden was putting another arrow on her bow string.

“Less talk, more bloodshed,” she commanded.

He glared at her a brief second before heeding her command. He raised Excalibur and drove the point into the eye socket of a nearby imp.

Aiofe had moved on by then, advancing further into the fray, flanked by Balin and Balan. They made a formidable trio and Arthur almost pitied any faery they came up against. Almost.

Overhead, the flight of dragons swooped low, led by Etain and his gryphon. With each pass, a dozen faeries were given a bird's eye view of the battle before they learned how to sky dive without parachutes.

Lancelot worked his way through a pair of Ulmus, splintering their limbs and setting them on fire with the help of Drakka. As the creatures crumbled into ash, he put his shoulder to Arthur's and they turned in sync to face an oncoming ogre-troll hybrid.

The two men slashed and spun in unison, the synergy from centuries before returning in force.

“We need to talk when we get a chance,” Lancelot said as his sword plunged into the thick hide. “Just the two of us.”

Arthur grunted beside him as the ogre-troll's fist connected with his ribs. “Now is not exactly the time, Lance.”

“I know, I just want to make sure we get time later.” He kicked the thing in the back of the knee and it wobbled. “It's about Guinevere.”

Arthur swung and Excalibur sank into the creature's lumpy neck. The sword wedged itself between two fat rolls and stuck fast. Arthur jerked the sword as the ogre thing swung at him with a bony fist.

“I don't want to talk about her ever again. I wish she'd just go away.” Arthur clung to the sword as the beast swayed back and forth, trying to dislodge the offending weapon.

“
You're the king. Tell her to leave.” Aiofe was back and she raised her bow. She let three arrows fly in quick succession. Each flew straight and true, finding their mark in the bulbous eye of the ogre. They sank deep into the tiny brain and the creature stopped fighting. It listed dangerously to the side and Lancelot scrambled out of the way as it plummeted to the ground. A trio of sprites weren't so lucky and their colorful legs could be seen flopping beneath the mountain of flesh.

Arthur climbed up on top of the beast and jerked at his sword. “I told you,” he began with a grunt. “It's complicated.”

“It's not that complicated,” Aiofe spat back and pulled another arrow. “Just...” Her voice trailed off as the arrow sailed through a nearby bogey. She pulled another and tried again with the same result. “What the...”

“
What's wrong?” Arthur asked as he and Lancelot finally succeeded in freeing Excalibur with a sickening slurp.

“
I can't hit that one.” She shot at the faery beside her first target. “Or that one.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and stomped up to the two snarling bogies. He swung at the first one's head with all his might. The sword slipped right through, meeting no resistance at all. He stumbled and barely kept his balance as the creature flickered briefly before solidifying once more. The bogey lunged at him and its teeth snapped around his arm. He shouted with the expected pain, but it didn't come. The teeth went straight through, like he wasn't even there.

“What is this?” He stared from the creatures to Lancelot and Aiofe with wide eyes, but they just shook their heads.

“
Arthur, we need you.” Eden beckoned them from across a small patch of clear grass. They found her standing with Etain. “Tell him.”

“
Some sorcery is afoot, King Arthur.”

“
So we've noticed. What's going on?”

“
It appears to be a trick, a mirage. The outer edges of the force were real, but everything in the middle is merely an apparition, a conjurer's trick.”

They looked out across the field around them. Nearly half of Leanansidhe's forces still stood, but the actual battles were few and far between.

“It appears we have taken down most of the physical forces, but it's hard to tell with all the apparitions.”

Arthur thought momentarily and nodded. “Form up in groups, work your way through. Find any real faeries that may be hiding and dispatch them.”

Etain and Eden bowed once and walked away to spread the word.

“
I don't like this,” Arthur said as he watched them go. “Not one bit.”

*~*~*

TEN

*~*~*

“
Your highness, our army has left to aide General Zela at Castle Daor.” A blond-haired faery dressed in livery the color of the fading sun stood in the garden in front of Queen Titania and gave a half bow.

“
Do we have any reports on how many attackers they are facing?” The queen held her head high and brushed a finger over a dead leaf on a bush. Its dull brown color transformed into a bright, shining green and its crinkled, brittle form softened into the supple tenderness of a new leaf.

“
Reports vary, ranging from hundreds to thousands. Needless to say, the castle is surrounded. They will need all the help they can get.”

Titania pressed her lips together. Leanansidhe was injured; of that she was certain. Why would the woman risk her army and herself to attack a castle that could not be destroyed? She may gain access to the knights, she may kill a few, but the rest would be safe inside the impenetrable walls. Unless somehow she had found a way inside the nearly impenetrable walls.

“Send everyone we can spare. We cannot lose this fight.”

The faery bowed. “Yes, your majesty.” He spun on a booted heel and marched out of the garden as Titania walked along the packed dirt path she had tread so often, trailing her fingers over the leaves on either side.

“What are you up to, Lealea,” she mumbled as she brought a wilting white rose back to life. “What game are you playing?” Her fingers danced over the flowers in front of her until they hovered over a crumbling yellow lily. “Oh, my darling, I am so sorry. How did I miss you before?” She reached down to touch it, to breathe life back into its decaying form, when a crash echoed behind her. She spun, her eyes searching for the cause of the offensive sound, but they found nothing. The noise had come from outside the garden, in the castle proper near the gate. Even as she watched, wisps of red smoke trailed up into the sky. Shouts could be heard from all around her, mingling with the clash of metal on metal, accompanied by the occasional pained scream.

Booted feet thudded on the dirt path behind her and she brought her hands up as she spun. Fireballs sat in both palms, ready to be used if necessary.

“M'lady,” gasped the servant who she had just sent away. He doubled over and placed his hands on his knees as he struggled for breath. Blood spilled down the left side of his tunic. “My queen, we are under attack.”

Titania glanced back toward the smoke. From inside the garden, she could hear the battles outside as they progressed through the castle. She gritted her teeth together and forced her heart to stop racing in her chest. “Who? And how?” she demanded of the man in front of her.

He coughed and specks of blood spattered the bottom of her dress. “It's her,” he managed to say before another coughing fit took him. He sank to the ground before her, unable to stand on his own anymore.

She knelt beside him. “Who?” she asked, but she was only half listening as she prodded the wound in his side. It was deep and pierced vital organs, but if she tended it immediately, she would be able to save him.

“Why, me, of course.”

Titania flew to her feet and spun around. Her blood-covered hands dripped at her sides. A tall, tanned woman dressed in a tight black, sleeveless shirt and black pants stood before her. The woman's blood-red lips were pulled into a vile smirk and her brown eyes danced with mirth.

“Hello, Tati.” She said the last word like it burned her tongue. “Did you miss me?”

“
Leanansidhe.” Titania's mind raced as she stared at the woman before her, her childhood friend and confidant. Centuries of pain and heartache came flooding back even as she examined the woman and tried to find a weakness she could exploit.