Maila had been the Old King’s lead consort because she’d given birth to his first son. The Old King never married, so Maila was as close as the subjects had to a Dowager Queen. And, unlike the other consorts, she’d lived almost like a queen because when the Old King needed to entertain, it was Maila that he always had by his side. That also meant she had ample gold and jewels and could purchase anything she liked whenever she liked. Her gowns were always the most beautiful and glamorous, her hair artfully done. It also helped that Maila had managed to keep her beauty.
“Mother, what are you doing here? You are supposed to be in the safety of—”
Another cousin ran into the chamber, mace swinging. Maila quickly ducked and Marius blocked the weapon with his sword before slamming his dagger into the man’s belly. Again and again, then slitting his throat for good measure.
“Mother, you need to go back to my soldiers. They will protect you.”
“I needed to speak to you and it cannot wait. Besides, most of your brothers are either dead or gone. The castle is ours.”
“Still, I’d feel better if—”
Another screaming soldier ran into the chamber, sword above his head, ready to strike Prince Marius. The soldier wore the colors of Prince Cyrus and was ready to die for the man he hoped would be king.
Marius raised his weapons again but Maila held up her hand to stop him and, a few seconds later, the soldier stopped in his tracks, his sword still raised above his head. He coughed, blood shooting out of his mouth. Maila gave a small laugh, covering her mouth as the soldier fell forward, dead.
“Mother, what did you do?”
“I poisoned the soldiers’ well. Oh, don’t look at me that way,” she complained. “We both know I could never stay out of this. I’ve been waiting since your birth for you to ascend to the throne.”
“This is my fight.”
“Wrong. This is our fight. Do you really think all my other sons actually died accidentally? No. I took their lives because it was my right, as their mother, to do so. I couldn’t get near your other half brothers because of their mothers but I knew when the time came, you’d be able to handle the rest. And here you are doing a brilliant job. So allow me some fun.”
The sound of more battling soldiers in the hallway had the prince pulling Maila closer, moving in front of her.
“Just tell me what’s going on and make it quick, please.”
“A messenger arrived not too long ago. From the Witches of Amhuinn.”
I was surprised by that. The Witches of Amhuinn usually stayed in their mountainside fortress, reading their books and keeping their tallies. They didn’t dance naked in the moonlight, they didn’t sacrifice bulls in the early hours of dawn, they didn’t make potions for love or revenge. But despite all that, their declarations had power. Even the Old King respected what they had to say.
And what they had to say must have been important for Maila to leave the safety of wherever her son had placed her.
“What do they want?” the prince asked.
“They have called to the gods and—”
One of the prince’s uncles charged into the room, but he was older and didn’t move as he once had. Marius took his head and kicked his body to the floor.
“Mother, just get to it!”
“Their seer has seen a queen. A queen to replace the Old King.”
I frowned in confusion. In all my years, I couldn’t remember the Amhuinn having a “seer.” It would have to be someone who’d truly proven themselves since it had always been said the Witches of Amhuinn relied on statistics rather than those who could see into the future.
“What queen?”
“A girl. A farmer’s daughter.”
“A peasant?”
“I was a peasant before being sold to your father.”
“Then put the bitch in chains and bring her to me. One way or another, I will be the next ruler of these lands.”
Maila glanced at the Old King’s body in his bed, and I saw no pain, nor pity at his death. “Your half brother, Straton, has already gone after this farmer’s daughter.”
“Good. Let him kill her. I’ve got other things to—”
“Don’t be like your brothers,” Maila snapped at her son. “Short-sighted. Whether peasant or royal, if a girl has been chosen by the Witches of Amhuinn, she will be more readily accepted by the dukes and barons of these lands.”