The Weavers' Blessing Page 4

  They weren’t as important as the thing behind them. She thought it was a giant mushroom, then it turned into an umbrella, then a tent, then a tiny castle. This had to be witchcraft. She had to burn it. “Witchy gnarled, bent, and brown, burn it, burn it, burn it down,” she chanted the children’s song.

  There were purple leeches on her. She scratched and scratched, but they would not come off. Then they were bug bites that itched terribly.

  She could not move. She was trapped. At first she tried to fight, but then she decided she was in a prison cell. The evil king must have gotten her. She was going to die. She sat down and sobbed and sobbed.

  Her tears made an ocean. She forgot how to swim. She flailed, trying to keep her head above the water. Seaweed wrapped around her legs, pulling her down onto the dinner plate of ugly sharks waiting with open mouths. She grabbed her knife and slashed the seaweed, but it turned into metal chains and made sparks. She liked sparks. She wanted to make fire. It was so pretty.

  There was something–someone–she needed to remember.

  But bats were flapping about her head. She screamed and tried to fend them off. They turned into raindrops that burned her skin. She hugged herself, shook her head, and cried.

  She kept hearing someone say, “Elaine.” What did it mean? What language was it?

  Did languages exist? No, nothing existed but the blackness. She couldn’t see anything. She was blind and alone. Giant moths would wrap her in a cocoon and feed her to their babies. She broke free and started running with all her might. Then there was a blinding light. She threw up her hands and sat straight down. But the ground started sucking her down. She tried to roll free, but it wasn’t working well.

  Brandon. She had to remember Brandon and Clachan. Why? What were they? Why wouldn’t the buzzing stop so she could think?

  Chapter 14

  E veryone he loved–he ruined their lives. His love was a curse. First his parents and Claire. Now Elaine, pure, innocent Elaine, had lost her mind.

  “We have to find food,” Jeremy said wearily.

  “Go,” Brandon said. “I’ll stay with her.” It was selfish. She would be better off with Jeremy. He was better for her–but Brandon could not let her go.

  “Hunter,” Jeremy said before he left the barn in which they were hiding. “There was something special between the two of you, something…different. Maybe you can get her to…come back.” He left them alone.

  Brandon sat before the princess. They had tied her arms to her sides and bound her feet. All of them were covered with scratches. He had nightmares of her coming at them, eyes crazed, flourishing a dagger she had found he knew not where. Now, she stared straight ahead and sat perfectly still.

  He took her hands at her sides in his. “Elaine,” he called to her, searching for some sign of life in her eyes. “Princess, come back to me. You’re in there somewhere. Find yourself. Come back to what is real.” His heart was breaking. “You’re trapped somewhere dark and I cannot help. Hear me, Elaine. Please. I have loved you as I have loved no one else. Come back. Do not leave me.” His voice shook.

  “Your country needs you,” he tried a new tactic. “Remember Clachan. We need you to free us from the evil that holds this land. You overcame it before. Come on, please, Princess. You can overcome the darkness that holds you.”

  Was it his imagination, or was there a flicker of life in her eyes? She shuddered and started muttering and twisting back and forth.

  He gripped her hands tighter. “Fight it, Elaine. Fight it. Break free. You can do it. Please, princess. I need you,” he whispered at the end.

  “No, no, no, no no, no, NO, NO!” she started with a mutter and ended with a shout, shaking her head violently. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Elaine!” he called gently, tenderly, cupping her cheek in his palm.

  She calmed, but she was shaking. She looked at him with–was it possible?–recognition. “Brandon?”

  With a wordless shout of the sincerest joy, he grabbed her in a hug that might have been a little painful. “Brandon,” Elaine said happily, leaning into him. “Could you, um..?” She looked down at her bindings.

  “Of course,” he laughed, making quick work of cutting the ropes.

  Jeremey burst through the stable door, weapon drawn and panting.

  “What is it?” Brandon asked, reaching for his bow.

  Jeremy looked at them in amazement. “I heard you scream,” he said. “Why…why is she unbound?”

  Elaine stepped toward him and reached out. “Jeremy,” she said.

  He lowered his weapon. “Lain?” he asked in wonder and hope.

  She nodded. “I’m back.”

  The valet’s son bounded over, picked her up, and spun her around. Brandon reached for his flask of liquor that had again become his friend when Elaine was out of her mind. He could not handle watching her go to Jeremy like that, not when she had kissed him and saved his life–was it by her kiss, her tear, or her wish? Not when he had been the one to call her back to sanity.

  He could not leave her now, but when she was restored to the throne, then he could disappear and leave her with Jeremy, who was clearly a better man. Jeremy had never ruined lives and sold innocents as chattel.

  “Well, let’s get on, then,” he said loudly, throwing on his pack. “We’ve got a kingdom to save.”

  Chapter 15

  I t was working. Eric could feel it. Outside, a mob of angry people freed from his rule was forming. They were ready to burst into the castle and murder him, but Ivan had sealed the doors against them. All they could do was yell loud enough for him to hear them at the top of the castle.

  Even so, he could feel a bit of power inside of him. Ivan looked slightly stronger, too. His magician had been looking quite weak lately, but as evidence of their success, he had regained some color.

  “Did it work?” he asked. “Is she dead?”

  “Not dead,” Ivan said from his chair, where he spent most of his time now. He had taken to having Eric fetch him the books and instruments he needed. “Not dead, but the next best thing. She has lost her mind. The princess may as well no longer exist.”

  “But I do not control all of Clachan yet,” Eric pointed out, angry.

  Ivan sighed. “Patience. All good things in time. It will not be long now before she ends her own life.”

  Three days later, that still had not occurred. Eric paced, Ivan sat, and they waited.

  They waited until Eric felt a sharp pain in his stomach and Ivan let out a choking gasp. The king looked to his magician for answers; the magician looked at the king with wide eyes full of pain, clasping his throat. “It is impossible,” he whispered, then he shuddered and groaned. “No.”

  “What is happening, Ivan?” the king demanded, clasping the magician’s shoulder to keep him from falling out of his chair.

  “The only thing that could defeat us,” Ivan gasped. “The deepest, most ancient magic, so deep most have forgotten its power. Love, Eric. Love has broken our hold on her. Your power is gone, and I… my strength…is gone.” With that, the magician’s heart failed.

  Eric was alone in the castle with a corpse. He could not escape back to his former kingdom, Poldar, because of the angry masses outside. He knew the Princess would come for him. All he could do was pray Ivan’s seal on the castle doors would hold, and wait.

  Eric hated waiting.

  Chapter 16

  T hey never made it to Ferngold.

  They stepped out of the barn into a world in springtime. Everywhere, the land was alive.

  It was so wonderful, they almost forgot where they were going. For hours, they wandered through deep meadows and green forests, pointing out things they had not seen in ages and laughing like children in delight.

  At least, Jeremy and Elaine laughed. Brandon followed them with a hint of a smile in his eyes and did not drink his liquor, but he did not join in their celebrating. Elaine noticed how withdrawn he was and tried to bring him in, but he only re
sponded with monosyllabic words.

  Soon, they came across a cottage. The family was outside, gathering pitchforks, scythes, and hoes. Even from a distance, Elaine could hear them singing. “Good people,” she called out, “what are you about?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” the father yelled back, gesturing at the flowering world. “One of the Weavers must be alive. We’re going to the castle to overthrow King Eric!”

  The three of them exchanged looks of astonishment. Excitement and love for her people burst up in Elaine’s heart. “A blessing on your family!” she exclaimed spontaneously. “Tell me, do you know if anyone else is doing likewise?”

  “The Baxters and the Clintocks are,” one of the daughters offered. “I talked to them this morning.”

  “Several people have passed by already, heading in that direction,” the father added. “Far as I know, the whole country’s throwing off the old tyrant’s chains and headin’ to throw him off a tower.”

  Elaine laughed and looked at Brandon and Jeremy for permission. Brandon just shrugged, but Jeremy nodded. “We were headed to Ferngold to borrow an army to depose that usurper,” she told the farm family. She revealed her shoulder. “I am Princess Elaine. Will you do me the honor of allowing me and my guards to accompany you?”

  The family dropped to their knees. “Your Majesty,” the father said, eyes glowing. “We are your servants. Lead the way, and we will follow.”

  It was a three day journey to the castle from there. Along the road, they kept meeting others, also heading to overthrow the king. They invariably joined Elaine and her group. Before one day was over, she was at the head of an army.

  Yet fears and doubts crept in. She had no experience leading an army or a nation. What would she do when they reached the castle?

  If only Brandon would help her. He would have valuable thoughts on what to do, but for some reason beyond her comprehension, he was pulling away, putting up barriers between them.

  She wanted to punch him and yell, “What is the matter with you? Why are you acting like this? I kissed you–it’s because of you that I’m not insane any more. I love you, you crazy boy! I thought you loved me, too. Why are you acting as if this past week has not happened?”

  Instead, she gave him a sad look, which he did not see, and turned her face ahead. That did not help much, because Jeremy was right beside her and always called for her attention. She loved Jer, she did; he was like a brother to her–but now, instead of acting like a trusted older brother, he was like a very annoying, attention-starved younger brother.

  Oh, well. It was best to focus on the task ahead. Soon they would be at the castle, and she needed a plan.

  Yet when they arrived before the thick, nearly-impenetrable walls that housed a magician, Elaine still had no idea what to do with her army of untrained people.

  Chapter 17

  W hen they arrived at the castle, word spread that the Princess was there, and the gathered crowds changed their angry chanting to cheering. After hours, the cheering died out. Everyone now waited for Elaine to do something.

  Jeremy shifted his feet and leaned over to whisper, “What’s the plan?” He was ready to fight, even to die–probably to die, since he wasn’t very good at fighting–for her, but it would help them all if he first gave her a little nudge to get her started leading them.

  Elaine’s face was whiter than normal. She glanced over at the hunter, who wasn’t looking at her, and Jeremy felt a bit angry. He was getting used to being jealous of Elaine’s affections, that wasn’t the problem. Now, the man who should be responsible for stealing her heart from him was being a blockhead. During the past three days of travel, he had given Elaine nothing but a cold shoulder. Jeremy wished he could interpret that as giving Jeremy his blessing, but he could not get past the hurt in Elaine’s eyes every time she looked at him and he ignored her. How could anyone intentionally hurt Elaine (except for King Eric, of course)?

  He would have to wait to punch the guy in the head. Now, he cleared his throat to regain Elaine’s attention. She looked a little startled but gathered her thoughts. “Um, how many people are in the castle?” she asked.

  Someone from the crowd stepped forward. “Your majesty,” he bowed. “I used to work in the castle. As far as we know, only the king and Ivan the magician are inside–but Ivan the magician could have enchanted the sculptures, coats of arms, even the kitchenware to fight, and he magically locked the doors.”

  Elaine’s brow wrinkled. “When was the last time someone tried? What happened?”

  “Three and a half days ago,” someone else responded. “Nothing happened. It was like the doors were carved in solid stone.”

  “There were no sounds inside? Nothing moved in the windows or on the parapets?” the princess clarified. He could see her confidence growing as she took charge of the situation.

  “Nothing, your majesty,” the second man replied.

  Elaine nodded and took a deep breath, raising her eyes to the tallest tower. “Alright,” she declared. “I’m going to try again.”

  “But your majesty!” five people nearby protested in chorus. “Shouldn’t one of us try?” Their clear implication was that they were expendable, but she was indispensable.

  She smiled at them, her dazzling smile that made one feel like one could do anything, be anyone. “I need you to come behind me,” she said, “but I must try to open the door first.”

  The whole crowd grew silent, watching Elaine approach the closed castle doors. Jeremy held his breath at first, then he really could not breathe. Anything could happen to her when she touched the large, ornate doors.

  When she touched them, there was an audible gasp, the collective sound of thousands sucking in their breath at the same time. Beside him, the hunter betrayed his indifference by lurching forward a step, eyes wide in fear.

  Then there was a louder sound, a collective sigh of relief. The doors opened at her touch. Nothing moved inside the castle. Elaine was fine.

  She stepped forward into the castle. In an instant, Jeremy and the hunter were right behind her. The rest of her subjects surged forward. Before they could go any further, Elaine addressed them. “Look for King Eric and Ivan the Magician,” she ordered. “Do not touch them when you find them. Let me know immediately. I must face the men who killed my parents, poisoned my land, and enslaved my people.” The glint in her eye made Jeremy very glad her anger was not directed at him.

  Old Beardface, as some disrespectfully called the king, did not stand a chance.

  The castle was eerily quiet. Elaine led them upwards at a steady pace. Jeremy kept his sword in his hand, and the hunter’s bow was ready. They kept expecting to walk into a trap.

  “This is the observatory,” Elaine said, touching the dark door with her fingertips. She paused as if remembering some pleasant memory that was about to be marred. Then she pushed, and the door swung open.

  She was face-to-face with King Eric.

  Chapter 18

  I t was good for him that Ivan was dead already. Otherwise, Eric would have made sure his death was long and painful. The stupid magician wasn’t worth the title. His magic was weak–a little girl could break it with no effort.

  “Hello, dear,” he sneered at the young princess, twirling his sword. “How nice of you to come to me. It will make it so much easier for me to do what I should have done twelve years ago. Prepare to rejoin your parents.”

  “No!” a young man he could have sworn was a hunter lunged forwards, forgetting he held a bow in his hands.

  “Don’t you touch her!” another young man, this one laughably weak-looking, sprung forward and yelled at the same time.

  “No,” the princess said, not to him, but to the boys, reaching out a hand to both of them. How pathetic–they were so controlled by her will, they immediately obeyed. “This is between me and him.”

  Eric laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, you are so comical. Are you sure you’re the child of a king and not a jester?” he kept mocking her, trying no
t to betray how terrified he was. Certainly, he could defeat a girl, but then her bodyguards and all the people following her would be sure to mete out painful revenge. Unless he regained control of the country first. He was not entirely certain how the process would work, and he felt the first twinge of regret over Ivan’s death. Cursed man, dying when Eric still had use for him.

  “Your end has come,” she ignored his baiting. “Your power is gone. Mock if you will. It only betrays your imminent defeat.”

  Eric dropped his act. “Well, then,” he raised his sword. “Let’s begin.”

  “In a minute,” she agreed on her own terms. She stepped into the room, in front of her guards. “First, tell me: How could you do it?” She looked deep into his eyes, like she was searching for an answer in his soul.

  “Do what?”

  “How could you kill this land? These people? Do you feel no remorse?” she asked, sounding honestly sorry for the king.

  He laughed. “Remorse? Never. You know why?” he asked her. “Every death brought me more power. I was born a ruler. This,” he backed up to gesture out the window, “this is my destiny.”

  “No,” she said with power. “No one is born a ruler. It is our choices that make us such. You seek power by killing. That is not power. That is fear and hatred, and it pays you back with death. You may have forced these people and this land into subservience, but they will never serve you willingly. They will never respect you. That is true power.”

  “You delude yourself with your fantasy,” he replied. “But I need not listen any longer. Draw your weapon, or this will be too easy,” he barked, starting forward from the window.

  But one of Ivan’s books of magic–it had been rattling all day, like it wanted to fly–shot up off the table, straight into Eric’s face. He let out a scream that was too high-pitched to admit that it came from his mouth and slashed with his sword. Before he realized he was backing up, he bumped into something and tripped. Then air was rushing by him.