arrived at the line, he noticed that
the drawbridge to the castle had been
lowered.
Although
soldiers
still
manned the battlements, there were
no arrows pointed in their direction.
Varian, now wearing full battle armor,
came up alongside him. The timid
princess sat before him.
“This could be a trap,” Varian told
him,
staring
at
the
lowered
drawbridge. Vulcan knew that. It was
for that reason that a portion of his
men were going in first, before he and
Varian would enter, followed by the
rest.
General Akos reined his horse in
beside his king and asked for his
orders. Vulcan conveyed them and
before long, Morden soldiers on
horseback began a slow canter toward
St. Ives Castle.
When the soldiers had entered into
the realm of the arrows, and none
were loosed, Vulcan nudged his horse
forward and Varian flanked him.
The sisters were not gagged today
but thankfully, they remained quiet.
The Flower was as tense as ever
before him, but with one of his hands
securely around her middle, she was
going nowhere.
They
crossed
the
drawbridge
unharmed and entered the inner
bailey.
Vulcan
looked
around,
noticing the crowd of armored
Lytherian soldiers that lined all sides
of the courtyard. They stood still as
his soldiers passed them and made
their way to the main bailey, where
the generals and the other princess
should be waiting. Vulcan was
prepared to accept nothing less than a
full surrender.
When they entered the main bailey,
they
were
greeted
with
more
Lytherian soldiers, but ahead of them,
standing before a door that no doubt
led to the Great Hall, were a cluster of
soldiers
who
seemed
to
be
surrounding,
if
not
protecting,
something.
The Flower squirmed before him
and Vulcan tightened his hold on her.
She stopped moving, but her body
remained coiled as if at any moment
she intended to jump from Shadowfax
and run. When they approached the
cluster of soldiers, a few stepped aside
and Vulcan saw whom they’d been
shielding. It was obviously a woman,
if the blue and silver dress were any
indication, but he couldn’t make out
her face as a blue veil covered most of
her head. A silver crown encrusted
with various stones rested neatly upon
her head. This was the other princess.
“I am Vulcan of Morden, High King
of the Northlands. Does Lytheria
accept me as her liege?” His voice
was loud, intended for everyone
gathered to hear.
Silence greeted his question and
then as if she had to force herself, the
princess in the Lytherian colors
stepped forward and curtsied low,
dipping her crowned head as she did
so.
“I am Princess Jaisyn St. Ives of
Lytheria. Lytheria accepts Vulcan of
Morden as her liege.” The words
were not offered freely. In fact, he
was sure that she’d said them from
between clenched teeth.
Varian turned his stallion to face the
approaching soldiers of Morden and
the Lytherian soldiers who had not
heard that declaration. “Lytheria
accepts King Vulcan of Morden as
her liege!”
“Will you release my sisters, now…
my lord king?” Jaisyn of Lytheria
posed what sounded more like a
statement than a question.
Vulcan wished the veil gone to see
her eyes. He was sure she wasn’t
smiling but her eyes would tell him if
it was defiance he heard in her voice,
or fear. He had a feeling that it was
the former.
“Lytheria is now a subject of
Morden. As such, all Lytherians are
free of harm from any of the subjects
or allies of Morden.”
Vulcan threw the words back at her,
but he swung his leg over Shadowfax
and slid from the horse, lifting the
Thorn—that was a better name
anyway—down with him. Her feet
had barely touched the ground before
she tore from his arms and ran to her
sister. Varian had dismounted as well
and the timid one followed suit.
Obviously, she was the eldest, this
Jaisyn of Lytheria. Vulcan had always
thought her name interesting for a girl.
All of the Jaisyns he’d
Sarah Castille
TR Nowry
Cassandra Clare
K.A. Holt
S. Kodejs
Ronald Weitzer
Virginnia DeParte
Andrew Mackay
Tim Leach
Chris Lynch