Secrets of the Night Special Edition (44 page)

BOOK: Secrets of the Night Special Edition
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Leaning her head against the tree, she closed her eyes and focused on her problems. She must keep her father safe, and if he refused to speak to Fergus about Aradia, she'd thwart that evil woman, no matter what she must do. She'd speak to Fergus, convince him his wife caused strife and discord among the palace workers.

Time passed, the air becoming cool and humid. Keriam opened her eyes, amazed to find a fog enshrouding the plain. The air smelled wet and musty. She swivelled her head, trying to make out trees and bushes in the distance. There! She finally discerned the cluster of oaks that bordered the river. Thank the Goddess! How odd to find a fog this time of year, this time of day. What if it remained for hours? Well, then, she might have to stay here longer than intended, and they'd worry about her at the palace.

She peered through the haze, and saw--ghostly warriors. On the plain, phantom soldiers performed a nimble dance of death, hacking and slashing, hurling javelins. Heavens! Mouth wide open, Keriam sprang to her feet and pressed a hand to her pounding heart. She tried to dismiss her fears, for surely her eyes were playing tricks on her. Her horse neighed and thrashed his front hooves in the air, pulling on the reins, finally breaking free.

"Liath, no!" He galloped off, the reins trailing behind him, soon disappearing in the haze. Keriam slumped against the tree, missing the horse already.

Through the heavy mist, an old man approached. Long gray hair flowed past his shoulders, a dark robe cloaking his gaunt form. A beard fringed his face and fell halfway to his waist. Disjointed movements surfaced behind him, hundreds, thousands! of soldiers!
Talmora, please, what is happening here?

She banged back against the rowan, her nails clawing the rough bark. She bit down hard on her lower lip. Her knees shook, her breath shallow and rapid, every muscle tense. She feared to move.

"Princess Keriam, don't be afraid," the spectral stranger said in a deep, mellow voice. "I have waited a long time to meet you. We are related, you know. Both of us belong to the House of Moray."

Somehow she knew. Her skin chilled as she tried to speak. "King Malachy?" she said after the third attempt. Shivers raced across her arms and down her legs.

He bowed low. "At your service, princess."

"How-how did you come into my world?"

"Nay, 'tis the other way around. You are now in my world, in the Otherworld.”

Chaos reigned behind him. Warriors whacked and screamed, shields clashing with a ringing of metal on metal. Arrows and javelins zipped through the air. Swords swished and blades clattered. The rattling of quivers and the hum and whirr of spears and javelins rent the air. Warriors in short tunics swung their swords, severing heads and arms. Was she the only one who saw and heard these images? She glanced back toward the meadow, but the fog hindered her vision. Soldiers moved with frightful agility, arms thrusting and parrying, legs moving forward, backward, and sideways. The smell of blood tainted the air, making her queasy. She fought her nausea, her attention fastened on Malachy and the soldiers.

Malachy gestured behind him. "Howbeit, I was not king--only a general--when this battle raged. Unfortunately, these hardy warriors fear the evil wizards may yet prevail."

"But what makes your enemies continue to fight?" She risked another glance at the warriors, hoping they would all disappear. But alas, the battle still raged, as fierce as ever.

He looked toward the soldiers, too, then sighing, turned toward her. "Our enemies can't accept the fact that they lost the battle."

Much of her fear left her; her breathing came more easily now, her legs no longer stiff. "So you defeated the wicked men and became king then," she said as half statement, half question, eager to confirm Tencien's tale.

"With the Goddess's help, madam," he said, his shrewd gaze leveled on her. "Remember--you must remain ever vigilant against iniquity."

"Iniquity--yes." Keriam clenched her hands at her sides. "I must make my father understand the threat against his life."

"Indeed!" Malachy appeared as a nebulous figure in the fog that continually rolled across the plain. The haze thinned and thickened, first tiny wisps of vapor, then dense clouds. Misty shadows wrapped around trees.

A look of sadness captured Malachy's face. "Now, I fear more trouble--nay, disaster!--looms ahead for the House of Moray. Conspirators plot to kill the king."

"I know!" Blood pounded through her veins, making her head throb. "How can I stop them? What can I do?"

"Beware the woman with silvery hair. And the general--"

"Balor!"

"Just so. You must keep them apart."

"Aradia and Balor?" A picture flashed through her mind, Aradia and the general together. A question exploded in her brain. "How do you know all this?"

He smiled. "Princess Keriam, don't you understand that our worlds exist side-by-side?"

"I . . . I've heard that, but I never believed it was true." The Otherworld, a world of ghosts, wizards, and magic. A place where death was only a pause in the cycle of rebirth. But she could never find this world within the busy rhythms of the palace, nor the hustle-bustle of the city.

The battle still stormed behind them, a javelin whizzing their way. Screaming, Keriam threw herself to the ground with a hard thud. The weapon landed in the dirt beside her. The breath knocked from her, she lay motionless. Her hands and knees throbbed with pain.

Malachy reached a hand to help her rise, then drew back, obviously aware his specter was powerless. "Madam, please realize these ghostly images can cause no harm."

Bracing herself, she rose to her feet and brushed off her tunic. "Well, they seem awfully real to me." Her hands prickled with cuts and bruises, her knees stinging. A glance to the side revealed a phantom javelin, as insubstantial as the fog.

"We were discussing the palace plot," he reminded her. "Many officers conspire with Balor."

"Who? Name them!” Terror iced her stomach.

He shut his eyes for a moment. "Alas, I don't know their names."

She bent over to rub her hand against her knees, still smarting from the fall, then raised herself. "Is there no one I can trust?"

"Fergus, a good man. But he's in danger."

"Fergus--danger?" She ran sweaty hands up and down her hips. "How can I protect him? What can I do?" She licked her lips. "And Aradia--"

"You must find a way to deal with her. Kill her if you must."

"Kill her?"
Talmora, help me do what is right.

"Yes, whilst you can. She won't act yet--the time is not right--so you still have time before
you
must act." Malachy opened his mouth as if to say more, then faded into nothingness.

"King Malachy!" Keriam's gaze swept the plain, the warriors gradually disappearing. The fog slowly lifted, trees and bushes coming into focus.

"Oh, no!" She slid down and stared at her bruised hands. Moments passed, her recent experience repeating in her mind, like a nightmare without end. Hard to believe it had all happened.

She wouldn't accomplish anything by sitting here. Time to return to the palace, but where was Liath now? She pushed herself to her feet and hurried toward the meadow, hoping to find her horse along the way. Moisture clung to her hair and clothes, her skin clammy from the humid heat. After a long trek across the meadow and past the busy streets, she found the horse grazing by the city stables, on Moytura's outskirts. The horse whinnied in greeting.

"Well, thank you for waiting for me!" After a bit of tricky maneuvering, she mounted the horse and rode past the stables, then galloped into the countryside, counting the minutes until her return.

Confusion roiled inside her as she retraced her ride. What had really happened there on the plain? Had it all been a dream?

But no; she stared at her hands, still stinging and bruised. She saw King Malachy as if he were with her now, still saw the clash of swords, the screams of warriors, saw the javelin headed her way. And oh, Goddess! the headless bodies, the severed arms. For the rest of her life, she’d remember this scene.

The palace appeared in the distance, its mellow bluestone a welcome sight, its windows gleaming in the late afternoon sunshine. Towers at each corner bore banners that hung limply in the still heat. As Keriam drew closer, she noted the lake to the west, its water glistening like crystal, and the woods behind the palace that separated it from the officers' houses and the soldiers' barracks.

Within minutes, she reached the palace grounds and walked her horse for a few minutes, letting the animal cool off. Upon her arrival at the stables, Traigh rushed out to meet her, helping her dismount.

"Madam, thank the Goddess you're back!"

"Sorry if I caused any worry. I was . . . detained."

On solid ground again, in familiar surroundings, she hurried along the path, the gravel crunching beneath her booted feet. Otherworldly images refused to leave her mind, every image fresh, as if the scene were happening now.

Inside, her boots clicked along the stone floor, her gaze searching everywhere. Everything looked the same, normal and reassuring. It seemed as if she'd been gone for an eternity, but she assumed only a few hours had elapsed. Quiet reigned over the palace, wherein the servants performed their chores, dusting and sweeping. They offered her a shy greeting as she walked past. She returned their greetings and continued on as problems tormented her, making her head throb, the blood pounding in her veins.

Crossing the main hall, she passed Aradia in an alcove with Balor. Aradia and Balor! They stood with heads close together, just as she'd seen in her vision, as Malachy had warned her. She must confront them, must keep them apart. She rushed back in their direction--and saw Aradia alone, arranging flowers in a glass vase.

She fought to keep the panic from her voice. "Where's the general?"

Aradia frowned, a long-stemmed rose in her hand. "General?"

"Yes, Balor!"

The steward's wife shook her head, her silvery hair gleaming. "I don't know this . . . General Balor."

Keriam wanted to scream. "But I just saw you with him."

"Princess Keriam, I fear you are mistaken," Aradia said with a condescending smile. "I've been by myself all afternoon."

Keriam looked into the witch's eyes--demon eyes, as if all the evil in the world had gathered in their depths, ready to loose wickedness and depravity on all mankind. For only a moment, Keriam saw flames flickering in each pupil, a hypnotizing fire that enthralled her.

Aradia raised a hand to push her hair from her forehead, and Keriam saw fur! A patch of grayish-yellow fur defiled the back of the woman's hand. She stared at the fur in horrified fascination while the foulness wavered and disappeared, as if it had never been. Canine teeth glimmered like stilettoes, then gradually became normal teeth again.

Keriam swayed for a moment. Was she losing her mind?

"Madam, are you unwell?" Aradia asked in a mock solicitous voice. "Really, if you continue to have these dizzy spells, it may be a sign of something serious. Perhaps you should see a physician."

"I think not." Keriam spun away and headed for the stone stairs that led to the second floor balcony. She dashed up the long stairway and reached the top. There, she noted a break in the wooden balustrade that separated the second floor from the vast drop to the stone floor below. Despite her anxieties, she made a mental note to have Fergus consult the palace carpenter tomorrow, to repair the balustrade.

A multitude of misgivings accompanied her with every step, from the second floor landing and down the long hallway to her apartment. She knew she'd spoken to Malachy; she remembered every detail of their encounter. His warning about Fergus returned to haunt her.
He’s in danger
. Where was the steward now? She hadn't seen him since her return.

Breathing hard, Keriam opened her bedchamber door. Maudina looked up as she entered, frowning with worry.

The maid sprang to her feet. "Princess, where have you been? Traigh said--"

"Didn't Fergus Morrigan tell you I was leaving?" Keriam leaned against the door, her heart beating fast. "And where is he, by the way?"

"Madam, he wanted me to tell you. His lady wife--that Aradia!--sent him into the capital to fetch silk material for a dress."

"Silk material! Fergus has enough duties here without running foolish errands for his wife." Another question flashed in her brain. "Why didn't Aradia go herself?"

"She’s afraid of horses, or so the steward told me. And I understand she had other things for him to tend to." An apologetic smile came over Maudina's face, as though she were to blame for the problem.

"It's not like the steward to act so irresponsibly," Keriam said, a muscle twitching in her jaw.

"I agree, madam. Fergus has always been dependable. But I fear Aradia has cast a spell–“ Eyes wide with shock, Maudina started again--"well, I mean, he's a different man since he married that wit--woman."

"I fear so." Keriam pushed away from the door and slumped onto her bed. Shoving strands of hair from her face, she spoke in a harsh voice. "And General Balor, what was he doing here?"

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