Page 22 of Of Blood & Bone: The Young Queen

“There’s something else,” he says. “Something you’re not telling me.”

I try to turn my head, to look away and escape his probing gaze, but he holds my head firmly in place.

“What is it you aren’t telling me, Queen? Why me?”

I stare into his eyes and for a split second I consider telling him about my dream and the moonstone which ultimately led me to him. However, I know how outlandish that all sounds and I fear sounding like a young, impressionable maiden who has spent too much time in the company of shanakees and seers. I need him to take me seriously and see me as a queen, so I lie, or at least I tell a version of the truth.

“I have heard tales of the Ellerban men and their, erm... prowess. I know your population is healthy and growing, so I decided my greatest chance of success lay in your kingdom.”

His hand falls away from my chin and he tilts his head back and does another thing I don’t expect. He laughs. Apart from the drunken outburst of laughter on his terrace, hismanner has been so intense and angry since we abducted him that I had even wondered if he was capable of normal laughter, but, oh, how wonderfully he laughs! Rich, deep-throated chuckles fill the air around us and they land upon me like waves of joy. I find myself smiling and when he next looks upon me, his eyes bright with mirth, a feeling of warmth moves through me, as if a part of my soul has found its way home.

“You may be young, Queen,” he says, still chuckling, “but you’re a canny one for sure. I just hope you don’t regret your decision. I think the gods weren’t acting in your favour when they called my brother away from the castle last night, as that left you with me as your prince.”

His words puzzle me, but I don’t have any time to think about them as a low moan emanates from the cart and both I and the prince dash in its direction to see which one of the soldiers is awake and in need of assistance.

“Aaran, all is good, don’t strain yourself,” the prince soothes the young blond-haired soldier. “It’s I, Prince Ronan, you are in good hands and being cared for. What is it you need?”

Aaran squeezes one eye open and manages to grab the prince’s arm. “Prince Ronan,” he croaks, “is that really you?”

“Aye, it is really I,” the prince replies. “I’ll get you some water and some elixir for the pain. Then you need to rest. We have a long journey ahead of us, but rest assured I will watch over you and Barra every step of the way.”

Aaran uses what little strength he has to tighten his fingers around the prince’s arm, then his hand falls away and his head lolls to the side as he slips back into unconsciousness. However, I notice this time the corners of his mouth are upturned into a hint of a smile. It’s obvious the presence of his prince has brought him great comfort, and I’m touched at the bond these men so obviously share.

The prince trickles some water over Aaran’s mouth and then looks up at me. “Can you find the Ellerban wench and procure some elixir from her?”

I nod. “Yes,” and go in search of Ailish.

When we return I find him clasping Aaran’s hand and speaking to him in what I presume is Bawnish. I ask Ailish to translate and she tells me he is telling Aaran they are safe and travelling with the Queen of Ardvalla and not to worry, whoever did this to him and Barra is marked for death by his sword. I can’t help wondering how he will feel about this when he discovers it was his own brother who put these men in this state.

Chapter Eight

It seems like I have just fallen asleep when Kes is standing over me, prodding me awake. I force my eyes open to see the first golden tendrils of the sun warming the bleak landscape. We spent the night in a low river valley and the ground here is mostly made up of craggy grey rocks and shale. The only note of beauty is the river itself, which is a cool aquamarine colour.

“Apologies, my Queen,” Kes says in a low voice, “but you did say to wake you at sunrise.”

“Mm...hmm,” I mumble, “I did, didn't I? It just seems this sunrise has come around quicker than the others.”

She offers me a mug of morning ale with a piece of bread and I gladly take them from her, thankful for the feeling of warmth that moves through me as I swallow the ale. The morning is cold and I wonder how the soldiers have fared throughout the night.

“Have you had time to check on the Ellerban soldiers?” I ask Kes.

“Yes, my Queen, they are fine, at least insofar as their condition has not deteriorated. However, let's hope the rest of our journey is without incident and we make it to Ardvalla in the shortest time possible as their need for a master healer grows greater by the day.”

“Agreed,” I say as I drain the last of the ale. “And the prince, how fares he this morning?”

“He fares fine,” a deep male voice says behind me, “and he is eager to get our journey underway.”

I turn to see him standing a few feet behind me. He has cut a hole in the blanket and wears it like a tunic, secured at the waist by his belt. He is holding a mug of ale in his hand and looks as fresh as a man who’s had a full night’s sleep, not the few hours I know he’s had.

I rise from underneath my blanket.

“Good morning,” I greet him. “I trust you are well this morning. We’ll get underway just as soon as I have consulted with the front riders.”

“Very well,” he says, as he drinks the last of the ale from his mug and hands it to Kes. I watch him walk back to the cart and marvel at how, even wearing a modest blanket, he still looks every inch a prince, if not a king.

***

The front riders reported seeing more patrols in the area we are about to travel through than we have done on all of our journey through Greythorne’s province so far. However, they are mainly broken down into two-man patrols, which is fortunate as it means there are fewer of them to detect us, but it also means they will be harder for us to spot. As a precaution I appoint a number of outriders to keep a close eye on our flanks.

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