Page 83 of Of Blood & Bone: The Young Queen

The prince shakes his head. “No. No way. It can’t be. You’re mistaken.”

“I'm sorry, Ronan, I'm afraid it is so. I wasn't sure at the time which prince he was and which prince I had lying in the back of my cart. I only hoped I wasn't bringing one so cruel back to Ardvalla. I also wasn’t aware why he would inflict such terrible injuries on them.”

He looks at Aaran and Barra. “Is it true?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, “Did my brother inflict those grievous injuries upon you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they reply in unison.

His mouth drops open in shock and horror. “But why did you not tell me? " he asks and I feel another pang of guilt at the confusion in his eyes.

“Because I asked them not to,” I inform him in as firm a voice as I can muster.

He looks at me, the confusion clouding the green of his eyes ever darker. “Why would you do that? Why would you ask that of them?” he demands.

“Because you had already revealed yourself to be a man of honour and I knew you would return to Ellerban to avenge them. I wished to get to know you better and to see if your seed proved good. None of these things could happen if you returned to Ellerban. I'm sorry. I would have liked to have shared this information with you, but I considered it for the best at that time if it wasn't. I promised Aaran and Barra I would tell you in due course. Please don't hold it against them, as neither of them were happy to keep this information from you.”

He looks at all three of us in silence and with a sad expression on his face drinks more of his whiskey.

“I suppose you can avenge yourselves now,” he says in a resigned voice, “when we return to Ellerban to reclaim the throne.”

I exchange glances with Aaran and Barra, both of whom give a slight nod of encouragement for what they know I mustsay next. I gather all my courage and take a step closer to the prince, reaching out to place my hand on his forearm. “Ronan, I'm afraid there's more,” I tell him in a soft voice.

He looks at me, his eyes full of questions, a hint of distrust and fear.

“Once I had confirmation from Barra and Aaran it was Prince Mikil in the Dark Forest that night, I arranged for Ailish to go back to Ellerban. It troubled me greatly that he would cause such harm to your men and I wished to try to discover his motives. The purpose of Ailish’s mission was to try to find out as much as she could about Prince Mikil and to keep an eye on what was going on in Ellerban.”

I pause to take a breath and steady myself for what I must reveal to him. He remains silent and draws on his whiskey like a man who faces the executioner’s axe.

“She returned the morning of our wedding and informed me that Prince Mikil had declared you either dead or missing due to mental fragility. Either way, he felt it necessary to declare himself king as, on the slim chance you lived, you were unfit to rule.”

He closes his eyes and throws his head back as a slow groan escapes from his lips. I glance at Aaran and Barra and they both give me a nod of encouragement.

“In addition, she had evidence to suggest he has formed an alliance or, at the very least, has been having dealings with Greythorne.”

The prince lowers his head and opens his eyes. Their dark green depths now hold more questions than before. As much as I don’t want to continue, to say the words I know are going to cause him such great pain, I do.

“The morning after our wedding, you may remember I was called away by Kes. That’s because Aaran had seen Greystone’s messenger at the stables and for some reason hecouldn’t quite understand the man had seemed familiar to him. Then, when the sleeve of his tunic rose up his arm, a mark was revealed. Aaran had seen part of that mark before, on the night you were all attacked, on the man who ran his sword through your wife and son. It’s my belief Prince Mikil hired Greythorne’s men to kill you and your family so he could take the throne and rule Ellerban.”

My voice trails off and the four of us stand in deathly silence, the only sound the crackle of the logs in the fire. Then, slowly, another sound starts. It’s gentle at first like a long, slow exhalation of breath but then it fragments into a low moan before settling into a heartbreaking cry of pain and despair. The prince looks at Aaran and Barra, incomprehension and disbelief distorting his beautiful face. Then he looks at me, a silent plea in his eyes to tell him it isn’t so, that I’m wrong, that his own brother didn’t arrange the murder of his wife and child.

I stand in silence, tears springing from my eyes as I watch it all sink in and the weight of my words crush him. The empty glass falls from his hands and his knees buckle as he clutches the table beside him. Aaran and Barra are by his side in an instant and hold him in their arms as heartbreaking sobs break free from deep within his soul.

I stand there as sorrowful tears slide down my cheeks and look at these three men, who have come to mean so much to me in such a short space of time, cling to each other. The murder of Aurora and Aonghus has affected them all and as I stand helplessly by and witness their pain, I vow to help them get revenge. Then I step forward and enfold all three of them into my arms.

***

It’s late, the castle is quiet and I’m not sure what woke me. I’m lying on my bed, the prince in my arms, finally asleep. He hadbeen distraught at the news of his brother’s betrayal and it seems to have slashed his wounds open even deeper. He sobbed for a long time, beside himself with grief and rage and then retreated into himself, sad and broken. Aaran and Barra had eased him over to the bed at that stage and gently coaxed him to lie down. I’d lain beside him in the hopes of soothing him to sleep and finally he had succumbed to the night, and it seems so did I.

However, now I’m awake and listening for what it is that woke me. Then, I don’t so much hear something as feel it, a presence, dark and oppressive. I look around my bed chamber but don’t see anything. One of the logs collapses in the fire and I look behind me, sure someone is standing there, but there’s only empty darkness. I tighten my arms around the prince and close my eyes, telling myself I’m imagining things, but then I feel a breath on my cheek and the hint of a whisper in my ear. My eyes fly open, my heart pounding out of my chest and I say in a soft voice, “Who’s there?”

There’s no reply, but the fire flares to life and suddenly a gust of wind moves through the room and blows over me, knocking me back as I try to sit up. Then it’s gone and the room feels cold and threatening as if a dusting of evil has been left behind.

I sit up and try to calm my racing pulse.What in the name of the gods was that?I ask myself as I look around the room again, peering into the shadows.

“I feel it too,” Aaran’s voice comes from the direction of the doorway.

I carefully get out of the bed, anxious not to wake the prince and walk over to Aaran. “What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he replies and I note the worried expression on his face, “but it’s nothing good.” His eyes are alert and even more crystalline than ever as he also searches the shadows of my room to make sure nothing lurks there. “Theonly thing I can liken it to is the feeling I had the day we were attacked, except it’s much stronger.” Then he closes his eyes, as if listening. Seconds later he opens them again, a look of alarm on his face. “There’s something in the castle, Elinor. Something nasty and evil. I’m going to check on Greythorne and the prisoners. By the Goddess, he and his bunch of blackhearted assassins are not going to escape on my watch.”

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