“Yes, of course, my Queen. Forgive my impudence.”
“It is forgiven. Now do as I command.”
He bowed, then hurried out of the Castle. He dispatched men to ensure that everyone who was loafing in town was summoned immediately back to the Castle. Lodenhime was a busy city in normal times, but Gwendolyn’s presence had drawn all of its men to her service so that none of the usual activities were being done. Merchants let their wares rot in warehouses or abandoned shops. Laborers used their skills only as the witch needed them to. The women of the city were terrified but carried on as best they could while their husbands and sons wasted their days plotting ways to win Gwendolyn’s attention.
Once Wilam had everyone in the Castle, his conscripted soldiers took every precaution to ensure that the Castle was secure. He gave very specific orders that no one was to fight. Gwendolyn intended to confront the soldiers, and that meant that his men had to stand at their posts and do nothing more than watch.
The courtyard was full of people. The news of the soldiers’ approach had everyone on edge. The sailors had not been conscripted and were unruly. They despised Wilam, but they did not challenge him. His royal bearing and the broadsword he wore at all times (except on evenings when he was allowed to spend time with Gwendolyn and Andomina in their private quarters), let the others know he was no one to trifle with.
The scout returned after two hours. He was just as filthy as before, but this time his horse was in better condition. He was admitted into the Castle courtyard and rode up to the Castle steps. Gwendolyn and her sister were sitting on a padded bench at the top of the stairs that led into the large, stone fortress. An awning had been constructed to keep the sun off their flawless skin. The scout dismounted and knelt before the steps until Prince Wilam waved. He was led up toward the Queen to give his report.
“There are no other soldiers,” the scout said, having trouble forming his words under Gwendolyn’s intense gaze.
“Are you certain this time?” Wilam demanded.
“Yes sir, I watched the riders pass, then rode on. There’s no one else on the coastal road.”
“How close are they?” Wilam asked.
“They’ll be in the city any time now. I wouldn’t expect it to take them more than half and hour to find us here.”
“Good,” Gwendolyn said. “We have time for a drink.”
Keevy hurried out of the Castle with a large pitcher of wine. He poured the wine into a crystal decanter filled with fresh fruit, then swirled the concoction around before serving drinks to Gwendolyn and her sister.
“When the soldiers are in sight of our walls, I want to know it,” Gwendolyn told Wilam.
“Yes, my lady.”
“I shall address them from above the gatehouse.”
“What if they attack?” he asked her.
“They won’t.”
“But if they do, you’ll be exposed.”
“I’ll have you with me,” she said flirtatiously. “You wouldn’t let them hurt me, would you?”
“Of course not, Your Highness.”
“Good, then there’s nothing to worry about.”
Gwendolyn finished her drink and was deep into her second when word came that the soldiers were approaching. Gwendolyn stood, and most of the men in the compound moved forward anxiously. They wanted to be close to her, but Wilam pushed them out of the way. He had a large shield on which someone had painted two beautiful sirens that looked strikingly like Gwendolyn and Andomina.
The witch was confident and smiling as she walked across the courtyard. She kept her head high and met no one’s gaze, as if to say that she was above them all. They were like worker bees in a hive, swarming around their Queen. Andomina followed her sister. She was lovely in her own way, but she had none of the confidence or royal bearing that her sister possessed. She looked only at the ground and never spoke. She followed her sister wherever she went and seemed more like a shadow than an actual person.
Wilam led them up the narrow staircase that led to the top of the guardhouse. Wilam had ensured that the buildings around the Castle’s walls had been destroyed and the debris removed. It had created a large open area where attackers would find no shelter from the arrows, rocks, and spears that could be rained down upon them. Wilam called the area a killing field. The century of heavy horse cavalry were in a long line on the far side of the killing field when Gwendolyn reached the top of the gatehouse and could see them.
“Come to me,” she said, her voice once again unnaturally loud.
The soldiers didn’t move at first.
“I would know you all,” Gwendolyn said, her voice as sweet as honey.
Wilam felt his own jealous fears of being replaced loom up in his mind, but he fought them down and looked at the men standing watch on the walls. They seemed steady enough, but one wrong move and they might very well attack. Hearing Gwendolyn seem to be giving favor to anyone aroused the fury of the men already in her service.
“Come to me, please,” she said, her voice coaxing and tempting them to move forward.
For another long moment no one moved. Then finally, one lone soldier spurred his horse forward. Wilam braced himself for an attack, but almost immediately the first soldier was joined by others. At first they seemed to come, one by one, but it was only a minute before the entire century of soldiers was hurrying forward.
“Join me,” Gwendolyn was saying. “You have a place here, with me and mine.”
The cavalry soldiers all wore heavy armor, including helmets with face guards. They were raising their visors and throwing down their lances as they approached, each one trying to speak directly to Gwendolyn. The result was a cacophony of noise as each man pledged his love and his sword to Gwendolyn’s service. She smiled down at the men, who were obviously smitten with her, then she turned to Wilam with a gloating look in her eye.
“See, my Prince, there was never anything to fear. Now you have a cavalry to play with. Be a good Prince and take care of them.”
Wilam was speechless. He stood, staring as Gwendolyn descended from the gatehouse with Andomina in tow. The crowd below separated, creating a walkway from the gatehouse to the Castle, all while the men below cried out to Gwendolyn, pledging their lives for just one glance from the witch.
Chapter 18
The storm had blown Quinn and Olton so far out to sea that it took them two days to sail back. They finally made shore near a small village north of the Walheta Mountains, which separated Falxis from Yelsia and Baskla. Olton generously shared some of the money he made from the fish they caught while sailing back to land. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get Quinn started. He knew that Mansel had a big head start on him; his only real hope was to head north and hope that he could intercept Zollin as he traveled with Mansel back to the Castle on the Sea.
He couldn’t afford a horse or weapons. Instead, he bought as much food as he could and wished Olton a safe journey home. Then he headed north on foot. He followed the coastal road, skirting the Rejee Desert and hoping that he would not be bothered. It was dangerous to travel alone, and even if he didn’t have anything of value, he would still be an easy target for outlaws looking for a quick score. The coastal road was a haven for brigands who could hide out in the desert canyons with little risk of being found. The establishments along the coastal road catered to outlaws and sailors, but Quinn didn’t have the coins to spend in inns or taverns. He kept to himself and stayed on the move. At night he looked for places where he could sleep concealed from view. He didn’t light a fire or try to warm his rations, which were mostly hard bread and a little smoked fish.
He had traveled for six straight days, his feet blistered and sore, his skin burned and peeling from the sun, before he ran into trouble. Two men on horseback met him on the road and refused to let him pass.