Book One in The Legend of Lord Randall Castle eSeries
by Beth Durkee
[Excerpt]
“I’m sorry, friend,” Melador spoke quickly, putting the dish
towel in his hand onto the counter and walking toward the entrance. “We’re
closed for the night. Can I get you something to take home?”
“Uncle…” a familiar voice issued from shadows under the
cloak’s dark hood. Melador instantly recognized his sister’s grandson, the
half-druid he had helped raise from boyhood. His face rippled into wrinkles as
he smiled in greeting.
“Barwick! Well, bolt the door behind you, then,” the old
druid spoke, walking toward the young man. Ever since his grand-nephew had
joined the King’s service, visits had been scarce. Melador missed him sorely.
“Let me take your cloak,” he offered, removing the long
garment and placing it onto a nearby hook before Barwick could refuse. Under
the cloak, a plain shirt with long sleeves hid the young sailor’s rippled
muscles. In his hand, he carried a small package wrapped in canvas.
“Come. Sit,” Melador continued. Giving his grand-nephew no
chance to say no, he took Barwick’s elbow and led him toward the small dining
area. He wanted to hear all the news. “What brings you out so far from the
castle tonight? I hear there was some excitement… What is in your hand?”
Barwick, now seated on a stool, could not keep the corners
of his mouth down no matter how hard he tried to maintain his discipline. He
had missed Uncle’s quirky energy. Tilting his chin downward and away, he tried
to mask a smile by looking at the package in his hand.
He regained his composure quickly and replied with a
question, “Can we speak in private?”
Melador glanced around at dark emptiness. Scratching his
chin, he answered, “Sure... Go ahead. What’s on your mind?”
“Uncle,” Barwick nodded in the direction of the server
putting away glasses.
The old man’s eyebrows lifted as he realized that Barwick
wanted complete confidentiality, “Oh.”
Addressing the server, he dismissed, “Don’t worry about the
dishes tonight. I’ll take care of them. You can go home now. I am just going to
visit with my nephew for a while. Have a good night.”
“Thank you, sir. You, too.” The server folded his apron and
put it away, unbolted the door and walked out.
Melador re-bolted it behind him and turned back to Barwick,
“Do you want my faerie friend to leave, also?”
“No, please have him stay.” Placing his package on the
countertop, Barwick unfolded the canvas to reveal a faerie king’s ransom in
honeycomb. “I have a request that may interest him.”
Two sets of tiny fingers appeared on the edge of the
countertop, then a head, followed by a shoulder and an elbow, then another
shoulder and elbow and, finally, the complete body of Bud Starembers.
“Hmm…” nodded the druid. Barwick obviously wanted faerie
help. But what could he possibly want that he felt the need for a bribe?
Melador’s helpers were generally pleased to assist anyone of good heart.
“As you know,” the young man continued, “the princess
attempted to elope today.”
Melador nodded. Of course he knew that. He was the one who
had alerted the queen to it. He waited in silence to get to the part about the
honey.
“What you may not know is that we received urgent news from
the mainland today. King Edward died in Mercia and his son from his first wife,
Aelfweard, is disputing Prince Aethelstan’s claim to the throne. The Lords of
Wessex are gathering, sending representatives to Winchester for a council while
Aethelstan moves his father’s remains from Farndon-on-dee to Winchester
cathedral. The council is to make a unified decision as to which heir’s claim
Wessex will support.
“We are not part of Wessex so this should be no concern to
us. But it is. Our princess is betrothed to Duke Concobhar of Wessex and due to
marry within the month. He wants his lady to attend the post-council
festivities with him. It is right that he should ask her to accompany him and
King Charles would be remiss to refuse the request. But in light of what
happened this very evening, he would be foolish to send her without a trained
escort to keep track of her. He has chosen me for that duty.
“I, after all, am the one who brought the princess’ lover to
Saint Mary. I am also the only one who could find her with him tonight. Nobody
else was able. But, Uncle, if she runs and I don’t have a faerie nearby… I am a
fair tracker but I was only able to locate her because I had faerie help. I
would never have been able to catch her without magic.
“Considering the princess’ propensity to escape and evade
non-magical capture, I think it would be a good preventative measure to have a
faerie with me in the event I might need help. Our ship leaves at first light
and I know it is short notice, but will you relay my request amongst your
faerie friends to see if anyone is interested in the job? This honeycomb is
intended to be a half-payment to the faerie who accepts.”
Melador’s brow had begun to furrow gradually deeper as his
grand-nephew spoke. By now, his eyebrows carved a deep gorge in his temple. He
had guessed what was coming all along, but needed to hear the words to believe
them. Having been raised around tiny people, Barwick did not fully grasp the
hostility non-magical humans had festered through the years towards all
creatures of magic. Even the faeries, mostly pacifists, were being persecuted –
if they could be caught. The situation was so desperate that the Queen of
Faerie, herself, had decreed the mainland of Albion a hazard zone. Faeries were
forbidden to travel there. Melador, as a druid, did have the authority to
supersede her command if the need should arise. But there was no genuine need.
Without a word, he turned toward the back counter and
scooped measures of honey into two tiny pails. Despite the years he had
observed the request of Barwick’s human mother, he knew he must now violate her
wishes. Pulling a stem of ragwort from a nearby vase, he handed it to the
little man on the countertop. It was time to tell Barwick enough truth to make
his own choice.
“Forget what you just heard, Bud,” the druid commanded his
tiny helper. “My answer is no. Go upstairs and bring down my sister’s amulet.
It is in my top drawer on the right side. Here are both measures of honey that
you earned today. When you have brought me the amulet, you can take them and go
for the night.”
Bud appeared visibly relieved by his master’s edict. Without
delay, he took the ragwort and flew up a corner flight of stairs. After a few
moments, he returned carrying a silver amulet over his shoulder. Depositing it
in Melador’s open hand, he picked up his honey and flew out of a nearby window,
a huge smile plastered on his tiny face.
Copyright 2014 © Elizabeth W. Durkee
All Rights Reserved.
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