The Last Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (31 page)

Prince Weldon shook her
, her injured wrist protesting in agony. Without letting her hands go, he yanked her toward the fireplace and hurled a lantern onto the dry wood. Flames burst anew, flickering into the room. “Shine them!”

“No!
” But the flames were already pulling her in, her body drawing in too much heat.

He
shook her again and slapped her hard across the face. “Don’t lie to me! Mahlon had you with only a small flame.”

She
pushed against him but he held on harder. He pushed her toward the fire, her hands still in his firm grip. Her wrist screamed in agony.

Emmeline squeezed her eyes shut.
“I won’t be your slave.”

“
One way or another, you
will
be mine, Emmeline,” He pushed his lips onto hers.

Emmeline
fought to pull away, but with her hands still held behind her back, his strength overpowered her. He gripped her sore wrist harder and twisted it at an odd angle to bring her closer to him. Emmeline buckled in pain, crying out as she fell into his arms. He kissed her harder, forcing his lips against hers over and over. Her resolve crumbled and her weakened body surrendered.

The
door burst open and a team of soldiers barged into the room. A collective gasp followed, but Prince Weldon didn’t seem to notice, his lips still pressed to Emmeline’s.

“Get away from her!” a man shouted.

Prince Weldon’s chin jerked up and he backed away from Emmeline, letting her crumble to the ground.

With her hands
free, Emmeline opened her eyes, choking in relief. Erick stood in her room with half a dozen soldiers surrounding him. Adelia was also at the door, out of breath and trembling.

“My brother,” Prince Weldon sneered. “You have come to rescue your bride. How
romantic.”

Emmeline’s heart stopped. Brother
?
Suddenly, she was aware of the finery of Erick’s apparel, the rich velvet cloak, the shining boots, the jeweled belt. He looked so different than when he wore the simple clothes of a gamekeeper.

She looked back and forth between Erick
and Prince Weldon, searching for any resemblance. They were both well-built, both had strong jaws and dark eyes, but the similarities ended there. Erick’s features exuded maturity and gentleness. Prince Weldon’s features were contorted, his nostrils flaring, his upper lip raised, and his eyes narrowed.

“Don't call me brother,” Erick said through his teeth. “I have
been informed of your treachery. I can see that your plans involved much more than I thought. You will be tried for treason and your fate will be in the people’s hands.”

Erick motioned for the soldiers to apprehend Prince Weldon.

“You won’t get away with this, Richmond,” Prince Weldon said. “The people love me! I will be King and she will be mine!”

Prince
Weldon drew his saber and pointed it at Erick. All the soldiers drew their swords in unison, surrounding Erick.

“Fight me,
brother!” Prince Weldon said. “Let’s see who should be the rightful heir to the throne!”

“I will
not fight you,” Erick said. “Lower your weapon. We can end this peacefully. You will be given a fair trial.”

“Peacefully!” Prince Weldon
laughed. “You want to end this peacefully? Why am I not surprised? Of course you want peace. You are weak! You refuse to recognize that Dolmerti needs war. And now we have the last Incenaga! We should use her to our advantage! We will flourish from the fall of our neighbors. Yet you refuse to see this!”

“No,” Erick said
, motioning for his soldiers to lower their swords. “I refuse to build this country through the suffering of others. There are other paths to prosperity.”

“The people want to fight!”

“The people do
not
want to fight. A few noblemen have become indolent, not all of Dolmerti. I have secured the word of the Pamizak King that they will open their trade routes with or without a union between myself and Emmeline. They believe their markets will also flourish with the trade agreement.”

“Lies
!” Prince Weldon said. “Pamizak wishes to drain us of our wealth and take the Incenaga from us. We'll be begging for mercy in a year’s time! I won't stand for this atrocity.”

With one swift motion, Prince Weldon grabbed the end of Emmelin
e’s long hair, yanked her against his chest, and snatched both her hands into his. He held the saber to her throat with his free hand. “Command your men to leave or you’ll see Emmeline’s head roll.”

Erick’s sword was drawn before Prince Weldon
finished, his steel blade flashing. He remained composed but his expression turned fierce. “Release her or you’re head will be the one rolling,” Erick said through his teeth. “She is not part of our quarrel.”

“She is very much part of our quar
rel. I intend to take her as my bride as soon as I ascend to the throne. However, I would rather slit her throat than see her with a weak ruler.”

Prince Weldon
jerked his chin toward the soldiers. “Tell them to leave. It would be so unpleasant for me to have to hurt this lovely creature.” He smirked and then grazed Emmeline’s neck with his lips, never taking his eyes off his brother.

The cold sharp edge of the blade pressed into her neck, sending ripples
of fear up her spine. She stretched her neck away from his hungry lips, but he pulled her closer.

Erick fumed with renewed rage. He motioned for the soldiers to leave
, but they remained standing, looking at one another in panicked indecision. Obey the Crown Prince or stay to protect him?

The soldier’s hesitation proved too long for Prince Weldon’s patience.
His grip tightened on Emmeline’s hands and he thrust the tip of his saber into the nearest soldier, piercing his chest. The soldier grasped his chest with his free hand as blood blossomed from his chainmail. He looked to the Crown Prince for forgiveness and fell forward to the ground.

Emmeline cried out in anguish.
She trembled as the carpet around the fallen soldier turned a crimson red. He had died in innocence.

“How could you?” she
said.

“He hesitated after an order,” Prince Weldon said
, placing the bloodied blade at her neck once again. “A strong ruler would not allow such disobedience.”

Emmeline
twisted her arms and yanked her hands free from Prince Weldon’s grasp, ignoring the shooting pain in her wrist. She flicked her uninjured wrist in his direction and his sword clattered to the ground. She sent a wave of heat barreling toward him, but he had already recovered and grabbed her hair just as the heat pushed him back. Both of them slammed into the post of her bed, Emmeline’s head cracking against the hard wood.

Prince Weldon
grappled for his sword just as Erick lunged for Emmeline. But he was too far from her and Prince Weldon already had the sword back at her throat. He took hold of her hands and bent them behind her back as he stood.

“Wel
l done, Emmeline,” Prince Weldon said. “That is exactly the sort of energy I want you to have when I claim you. Richmond, command your men to leave!”

Erick
turned to the soldiers. “Please, go. I don't want any more deaths in the palace. I can protect myself. Escort Adelia and Emmeline to safety.”

“No,” Prince Weldon
said. “Emmeline stays. She needs to see the difference between the weak and the strong.”

Erick
took a deep breath through his nose, no doubt preparing an argument.

“I’ll stay,”
Emmeline said before Prince Weldon’s patience could be tested again.

Prince Weldon
sneered and Erick’s shoulders dropped.

“Very well,” Erick said. “
Adelia, you may go.”

“But—
”Adelia began.

Erick’s eyes turned pleading. “Go, Adelia. I will protect her.”

Adelia nodded and she left with the soldiers, their heads hung low.

Prince Weldon
ripped a ribbon from Emmeline’s hair and bound her hands behind her back. Satisfied with his work, he tossed her to the side of the room with a violent shove.

Erick
raised his sword higher. “I don’t want to fight you, Weldon,” he said. “But I
will
protect Emmeline and myself. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Good,” Prince Weldon replied with a sinister grin. “We
have an understanding then. To the death.”

With no warning
, Prince Weldon thrust his saber toward Erick. The speed and strength of it was terrifying. The two blades collided and the sound of clashing metal pierced the air. Prince Weldon’s strike was strong and powerful, fueled by rage. He had a wild madness in his eyes, his brow furled in anger. Erick’s strikes were precise and forceful. He fixed his eyes on Prince Weldon’s every advance, anticipating his next movement.

There was method and skill on both sides. Down swooped the saber, back came the steel. Again and again Prince Weldon thrust forward
, and again and again Erick side-stepped and blocked his attacks. The saber rang against the steel.

They backed each other into walls and corners, knocking over furniture and slashing through unsuspecting upholstery. Their faces dripped in sweat as the duel progressed.
The blur of blades sliced through the air.

The brawl pushed its way into the adjoining
room and Emmeline glanced at the soldier lying near the door. Pushing herself away from the wall she bent backward to pick up the sword still in his grip, cringing away at the touch of soldier’s already cooling hand. She took a quick breath and tugged on the fabric of his sleeve until his arm moved off the sword. The cool metal of the hilt was still moist from the soldier’s tight grip.

The fire surged and Emmeline closed her eyes. With her han
ds bound, she had to be careful or the heat would overwhelm her. But she couldn’t keep her eyes squeezed shut like she had with Mahlon. Erick was fighting for his life in the very next room and she had to find a way to help him. She opened her eyes and concentrated on keeping the flame’s heat from entering her body. But her body fought her mind’s resistance. It craved the fires healing touch, its rejuvenating power.

A horrendous sound filled the
air, pulling her attention from the flames. Her beautiful harp had crashed to the ground, its sound board cracked in half, the strings vibrating in agony. Emmeline gripped the sword in her bound hands, the tip dragging behind her as she inched her way toward the duel.

The men were beginning to show signs of fatigue. Their breathing was labored and their shirts were wet with perspiration. Shards of glass scattered along the floor where vases and mirrors had been shattered.

Prince Weldon noticed Emmeline stumble into the room and he launched his greatest assault. Erick retreated before the slashing saber. A small scratch appeared on Erick’s right arm, then on his left. He tried to parry, tried to side-step, but the saber kept flashing in his direction. He surged this way and that.

Emmeline’s ears
rang from the constant sound of clashing blades. She cringed with each cut Erick received, the heat within her growing.

T
he duel stopped. Silence filled the room as Erick held the tip of his sword to Prince Weldon’s neck in a surprise maneuver. Both of their chests heaved from the exertion of the fight, but neither spoke for a considerable amount of time. They stared each other down, assessing the other’s intentions. Prince Weldon’s murderous stare transformed into regret and Erick relaxed.

“Do you yield, Weldon?” Erick asked. “I don’t want to end your life.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Do you yield
?”

“Yes.”

“I insist that you leave Dolmerti,” Erick said. “I don’t want you to return. Ever. If you do, I will not grant you a trial. You will be hung immediately.”

“I
understand.”

Erick removed the tip of his sword from Prince Weldon’s neck and stepped back.

A tingling sensation joined the heat within Emmeline’s chest and traveled over her shoulders and down her back. It was stronger this time, more fluid somehow. Prince Weldon stood to leave and Emmeline pressed herself against the wall to let him pass. He looked up and leered at her. Wild madness filled his eyes and he let out a roar. He turned toward Erick with his sword drawn.

Without warning, a
surge of fiery heat exploded behind Emmeline’s eyes. A flash of piercing white light illuminated the room and time seemed to come to a near standstill. Emmeline was aware of every tiny movement of each man—the flicker of their eyes, the intake of each breath, the tremble of their tired muscles. Each movement was drawn out and exposed in detail. It was as if her power was waiting for someone to claim her.