* * *
“My lord,” cried a portly man who was attempting to run across the courtyard. “Her Highness’s rider is returning! He is riding fast. Shall I go to the Lady Gwendolyn to give her the news?”
Prince Wilam looked at the man with unveiled contempt. He knew the pudgy merchant was looking for any excuse to get close to the Queen of the Sea. He also knew Gwendolyn hated to wait for anything, and taking her news that she would only have to wait on would put her in a bad mood. He would wait for the rider; after all, sending out scouts had been his idea. Why should someone else get the credit for his work? Of course, it didn’t occur to him that he would be taking credit for the work the scout had done.
“Don’t be a fool,” he said contemptuously. “Get back to your post!”
“Yes, my lord,” the man said.
He hurried back to his station on the watchtower while Prince Wilam paced impatiently. He had given the scouts instructions to send men back to bolster their numbers at the Castle but to return themselves only if they discovered signs of danger. Being in Gwendolyn’s presence made him forget many things, such as his loyalty to Yelsia. The past no longer mattered to Prince Wilam; he only cared about pleasing Gwendolyn. There were times when she seemed so close to giving in to his advances. He was a crown prince after all. If she married him, all of Yelsia would be hers, but she had so far resisted his charms. He hoped that the scout was bringing good news: victory in a small battle might distinguish Wilam in the witch’s eyes, and it was only a matter of time before King Zorlan sent troops from Luxing City to confront Her Highness.
He watched as the gate was opened. The fortifications around the Castle on the Sea had been his idea and had kept him busy for weeks, as had training the merchants, laborers, and farmers who made up Gwendolyn’s army. They were as ready as they could possibly be for combat. Defending the fortified Castle gave them a strategic advantage that might level the odds if they had to face regular soldiers, as long as they weren’t terribly outnumbered.
The rider came galloping in. He was covered with sweat and dirt and his horse was foaming at the mouth from exertion. The scout swung down off the horse, whose head was now hanging down, almost in the dirt.
“I hope your news is worth the life of that horse,” Wilam said. “You’ve ruined it, you careless oaf.”
“I thought the Lady Gwendolyn should know the news as quickly as possible,” the rider said.
“What news?” Prince Wilam demanded.
The rider’s hopeful look was dashed. He realized then that his hopes of being able to report to Gwendolyn were gone. He raised his eyes to Wilam’s with a look of defiance, but saw immediately that he was hopelessly outmatched. The Prince wore a cool look of confidence that was unmistakable, and the rider realized that Wilam was ready to kill anyone who disobeyed him.
“Soldiers are coming. An entire century of heavy horse,” the rider said.
“From Luxing City? I’m surprised it took them this long.”
“No, sir,” the rider said. “Along the coastal rode from Ortis.”
“Ortis?”
“That’s right, sir. They’re flying their colors plain as day.”
“How far away are they?”
“A few hours, at most. They’re riding fast.”
“A hundred of them, you say?”
“That’s right. They’re riding in formation and I could count them.”
“Are there foot soldiers behind them?”
“No sir, not that I could see.”
“Did you look?” Wilam demanded.
“I was watching the coastal road. I counted the riders and then came back here as fast as I could.”
“Get yourself another horse and go back. I have to know what we’re facing. Look for soldiers on foot and for supply trains.”
“Can you please let the lady know I brought the news-”
“Yes, yes,” Wilam said angrily, interrupting the scout with a wave of his hand. “I’ll make sure the Queen knows you were doing your job. I’ll also let her know you didn’t do it well.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said, obviously crushed both by the realization that he had not done his duty as well as he had thought and because he had to ride back out again.
“This time, take better care of your horse, or I’ll have you beaten and thrown into the sea.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said.
Prince Wilam didn’t wait to see that the man did as he was ordered. He hurried into the Castle to give Gwendolyn the news. He was halfway through the feasting hall when the Queen appeared. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and she hurried to Wilam.
“There are soldiers approaching?” she asked.
Anger blossomed in Wilam so violently that his vision turned red for a moment. He looked over Gwendolyn’s shoulder and saw the gloating look of Keevy, the Castle steward. Obviously the sneaking little bastard had eavesdropped on the scout’s report and then hurried to be the first to bring the Queen news, even if it was only a portion of that news. He vowed then to kill the steward.
“Prince Wilam!” Gwendolyn said loudly.
“I’m sorry, my Queen.”
“Don’t make me wait on news of this magnitude.”
“Yes, my lady. A century of cavalry troops are riding this way. Ortis troops traveling along the coastal road.”
“Excellent. When will they arrive?”
“They aren’t coming to parlay,” Wilam said.
“Don’t you dare try to tell me my business,” Gwendolyn said angrily, her voice rising in volume so much that it seemed supernatural. “I am Queen here, never forget that!”
Wilam was a proud man, a trained warrior, and the firstborn son of King Felix of Yelsia. Still, he cowered under the wrath of Gwendolyn. He was both frightened and worried at having displeased her. She had taken Prince Wilam into her confidence when he had come to the Castle with Quinn and Mansel. She had sent them on an errand but she had kept Wilam close, and he had naturally hoped that she would favor him as her lover. But Gwendolyn showed no interest in romance. A sorceress, Gwendolyn fed off the magical power of her twin sister, who was a warlock, unable to control her own magical power. Gwendolyn used that power to bewitch the men around her, all smitten and helpless in her presence, so that they did whatever she asked. The end result was usually bloodshed. Men could not stand to see those around them favored, and their jealously would eventually erupt in some form of physical violence, but Gwendolyn was determined to hold them in check, at least for now.
“They will arrive in a few hours, if the scout was correct, my lady,” Wilam said, bowing in submission.
“Good, we have plenty of time to prepare. Make sure that all the sailors are in the compound. I don’t want any of them in the town. I shall confront the soldiers myself. Keep your men in check, Wilam. I don’t want to lose any of the soldiers.”
“You mean to fold them into your service?” Wilam asked, shocked at the thought. His years of military training in Yelsia had emphasized loyalty, and while he had discarded his own loyalty, the thought of other soldiers joining their number was repugnant to him.
“That’s right, my good Prince. They will join us; they will join your army. We must have a large army to fulfill my plans.”
“But I could defeat them,” Wilam said, trying not to sound like a little boy wanting to impress his mother. “I know that I could beat them in battle. Besides, what good will cavalry do us here? We are in a perfect defensive position. We don’t need to sally forth. These walls are our greatest asset.”
“No, I am our greatest asset,” Gwendolyn said angrily. “Do not question my plans, or I will have you removed from my presence, is that understood?”
She was bluffing. She needed Wilam, but she didn’t want him to know that. His desire for her would bring him back in line. He would do anything to ensure that he stayed close to her.