Serpentine Tongue (3 page)

Her heated blood thickened, coagulated in her veins. She flew out of Fallon’s arms, and fell on her backside in the dirt. Her gaze skittered across the lawn, up the stone wall, over the trailing ivy, meeting the tri-colored gaze of lemon yellow, metallic gold, and dark crimson, reminiscent of freshly spilled blood.

That might soon be reflected off her own flesh.

She scrambled back, until she collided with the cottage wall. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stop a scream of denial. They’d found her. She suspected with Fallon, quickly discarding the notion. Now, she knew beyond doubt.

“Dearg,” she whimpered.

Fallon turned on her. “You know
him
?”

“Oh, she does. As do you, Fallon, in a way,” Dearg murmured silkily. “Meet the missing Duchess of the Seelie court, Siobhan MacCongail.” He paused. “And you, dear friend, just kissed her.”

Fallon rubbed his face, the heel of his palm rubbed raw.

How had he not guessed? Granted, he’d never paid attention to most of the nobility, female or male. He hated how high their noses rose at servants and Knights alike. As if he and his brethren weren’t once nobility themselves, before giving themselves over to the protection of the Seelie kingdom.

He flipped through his thoughts, discarding the wild notions. The duchess lived in squalor compared to the life he’d just left. She took care of herself, a task no noblewoman would ever consider, let alone execute by choice. He stuck to that explanation. The obvious one.

The word “why” resounded in his head. What had made her leave, risk exile, being hunted down like an animal? No one left the Queen’s “care,” not without their head still upon their shoulders. Why the risk?

Dearg leaned against the hearth, his left hand close to the hilt of his sword. Siobhan paced a deep ridge in the dirt floor from bed to table. (When did the go inside her cabin?)

“Stop it,” Fallon instructed for the fourth time.

She scowled. “How can I? I let a Queen’s Knight into my home!”

“Actually, two,” Dearg answered drily.

“If you have nothing constructive to say, shut your mouth,” she snapped, voice shrill.

“We are Knights no longer,” Fallon reminded her. He balanced his elbows on the table, his chin on his hands. “No doubt, the Queen will announce us as exiles after the search ceases, and Knights called home.”

Siobhan froze. “Why? Why are you running from the guard?”

“I poise the same question to you,” Dearg said.

Her fists shook as she crossed to her cabinet, pulling a green tinted bottle and three crystal stemmed glasses from the shadowed shelves. The liquor smelled strongly of honey and spice. Taking a long pull, she refilled her own goblet, and handed them each one. “I will tell you the truth, only if you tell me first.”

“Swear it.” Fallon straightened. “Give your oath, and we will tell you what transpired.”

“Do I look the woman who would go back on my word?”

Fallon sent her a droll look. “I have known you but two days.”

She waved him off. “Fine. I shall give my oath that upon hearing your truthful story—and I will know if you tell a lie—I will tell you my own.”

Nature herself tensed at the declaration. Magick arched between them, sealing their deal in a binding, unbreakable contract. Few rejected a deal once made. Those who did ended up dead.

Fallon sipped from his goblet. The fairy wine untangled his enforced silence on the issue at hand. He gulped half the contents to loosen his tongue, to fortify himself for what was to come.

“You’ve been gone from court, providing you ignorance on the escalation of the Queen’s activities,” he began in safety. Surely the signs of Druantia O’hUallachain’s eccentrics had shown before that.

She nodded in agreement, her bright, eager gaze belittling the reserved set of her mouth. “Two years is adequate time for much to transpire at court.”

“The Queen’s consort of seventy five years was killed in a battle with rogue Unseelie Goblins. She grieved a short time, long as she thought appropriate. Afterward, she threw parties, taking the Knights one by one in shadowed corners, discarding them fast as she’d procured them. None spoke of her trysts, hoping against hope she’d return to their beds, giving them a chance to become the royal consort. Perhaps, even King. But she never had intentions to share her crown.”

Siobhan smirked, steeping her hands. “When I still involved myself in the politics, there was much talk of forcing her to take a husband. To make babies and let a man to take the reins of the court.”

“That talk never ceased. Her counselors pleaded in every way imaginable. She hasn’t done her duty to our people in a long time, leaving the decision making to her advisors. As long as she had the power and riches that come with her station, nothing else mattered.” Dearg stoked the natural fire, giving them his back. No doubt to hide his enraged expression. Yet, his voice wasn’t as neutral. He’d never played the game well enough. His anger, a constant pit, a living flame inside of him never bothered to stay
hidden, as it should.

“Were you one of the Knights who went to her bed?” Siobhan said.

“No. Fallon was.”

Her mauve gaze clashed with his, absent of condemnation he expected. Mere curiosity.

“True that I gave into her wiles.” He fidgeted, ashamed of himself. “Upon a moonlit night as Dearg and I were at swordplay, she came to me, wearing a glowing white cloak to hide her features from prying eyes.” He distanced himself from the memory, the betraying innocence she’d worn, a mask of pure deceit he hadn’t deciphered until far too late. “Back then, I was the prized Knight, the one the Captain sought out for the difficult challenges. I had no inclination the Queen kept up with anything, short of her orders followed to the letter. That night she recited every accomplishment I’d procured in battle. She called me cunning, fearless, played to every string of pride within my fiber.”

“You aren’t the first to fall for her petty lies. Many, male and female alike have fallen prey to her.” She winced. “She is a phenomenal actress, when it comes to getting what she wants.”

His cheeks burned. How could she be so understanding, when he’d never forgive himself? “I am aware there is a long line behind me of fallen duped. I went to her bed time and again, taking no one else but her. For a time, she was sweet, loving. Unlike those who preceded me, she didn’t hide our relationship from the nobility. I suppose I’d proven my prowess, and she openly marked me to any feminine eye I caught. She became jealous, possessive. But neither did she name me her royal consort. I was infatuated beyond forgiveness. I deluded myself, betrayed my own instincts for what I wanted to see. What she asked of me I did without question, making enemies at every turn. I broke laws for her, until the court demanded my head. After a year’s time, in love as I was, blind to the precipice on the horizon, she came to me, crying.” Fallon’s breath caught, as the hatred returned in a severe flash. “She begged me to help her. Bartel MacArtian had rallied his fellows into forcing the Queen to marry. His plans were clear. Take the throne, and kill the Queen, as only a rightful Seelie King could do with beheading.”

“Bartel had always set his sights high. He romanced the Queen at many functions, to no avail. He constantly met with others at night, to rally people in his favor,” Siobhan said. “Most of us remained unmoved. For all of the Queen’s faults, Bartel put her to shame.”

“His supporters outweighed those who rallied with her,” Dearg murmured.

Siobhan stared at Fallon. “What did she ask you to do?”

“To kill him. She promised that if I succeeded, she would indeed make me her consort, protecting me by diplomatic immunity.” Fallon smirked. “I was elated. I asked Dearg for aid to distract his guard, so I could dispose of a nobleman. But it seemed the game hadn’t ended there. For it wasn’t just Bartel she wanted gone. She had me followed that night.”

“Why?”

“For all the enemies I’d made during my relationship with Druantia, allies were in abundance, supporters of my own, in high places. Let me assure you, I had no intention of this happening. Whispers told it, she feared my rise in popularity. She’d trade one dead enforced husband, for another to take his place.”

Dearg cleared his throat. “Come now, Fallon. Tell the rest.”

He glared at his friend. “After we returned to the castle, I found the Queen in the arms of Garbhan himself.”

Siobhan hadn’t reacted. She sipped her wine, eyes ice chips in her face. Hard to tell who her anger was directed at.

Dearg sighed. “Fallon was so distraught; I had to stop him from decapitating the Captain of Queen’s Knights right then and there.”

Fallon shook his head. “I would’ve, if you hadn’t pulled me away.” He turned to Siobhan. “Dearg took me into the kitchens, safe from nobility’s sight. We’d always gone there to socialize with the Brownies and Sidhe servants. They were more
trustworthy and honest than any noble. It was there I drank myself into a stupor, until walking was no longer an option. I could not kill, if raising my sword became too difficult to bear.”

Siobhan smiled without humor. “I’d have to agree.”

“Safest that way.”

“No, safest is getting another under you. We took two servant women to our quarters that night,” Dearg picked up. “As if on cue, the Queen burst into our chambers unannounced. As if she expected to catch Fallon. She accused him of breaking a vow of fidelity, a heinous crime as I’m sure you know.”

Siobhan paled.

“I’d made no vow. Neither had she. However, it was a royal’s word against mine. With the rumor of my killing Bartel out of jealousy, this didn’t bode well in the case against me. The Queen denied being with the Captain. We were pulled from our beds, the women whipped before our eyes. We spent nearly two months imprisoned. I blamed myself for a moment of stupidity, because Dearg was being punished for nothing. When we were brought before the Queen,” he ground his teeth. “We were accused of conspiring against the crown, by murdering the future Seelie King, with her spies as witness. Kneeling at her feet, I saw the plan in her eyes. All along, she’d planned for me to kill Bartel, and take the fall.” He dropped his face into his hands, unable to look at Siobhan anymore. What did she think of him now? How had he done what he’d done, when every time he professed his adoration for the Queen, she’d never once told him she loved him back.

The chair brushed the dirt floor, followed by a swish of skirts. She laid her hand against his hair. “She is cruel, that I will admit. Most of all, she is an imbecile for what she lost in you.” She caressed him over and over. “I take it death was your punishment?”

“Oh no, she is not that kind,” he said through his hands. “With the royal power behind her, she cursed us. She told me once that I had a serpentine tongue, ready for pleasure and pretty words, later on for immaculate lies. I deserved no better than to reflect what she thought of me. The very make up of our bodies were changed. Dearg was helpless but to be doomed alongside me. Because she felt no mercy for him, I made a grave error.”

“As would I,” she said.

Dearg pushed off the hearth. “Never forget, brother, everything I’ve done was in my own good conscious. I haven’t regretted our friendship. Not for a moment.”

“Even though we are now beasts?”

He came to his other side, and patted his shoulder. “We are what we are. No helping that now.”

“And what did she expect to do with two dragon shifters?” Siobhan asked, disbelief and horror dripping from her tone.

“The Queen dictated that we’d be used for threat in war. Intelligent flying lizards, willing to take her command. She hadn’t accounted for us risking exile, and escaping the castle. In her opinion, who would want to leave the Seelie court willingly?”

Siobhan snarled. “Me.”

Fallon lifted his cloudy head, emotionally wrought from his telling. Not once in the resulting weeks of their fate had they spoken of the event that it was about. He hadn’t permitted himself to feel anything but hatred.

“That is true enough. That is our tale, dear lady,” Dearg said. “But, now it’s your turn. Why did you leave the Seelie court?”

She deflated. “I suppose, in many ways the woman I used to be was akin to the Queen, much as it ails me to admit. I enjoyed my power in the court. Few under the crown questioned my word. As an elder noble born to the age were the old arts ruled, we were a different people back then. We wielded magick very few people remember now. I had allies everywhere, whether out of fear, or love. Much like you and Bartel, Druantia saw me as a threat.” She paused. “Let me say this here and now, regardless of what she may say, I had no desire for the burning crown. I told her time and again, but she did not believe anyone with my connections and skill would settle for my position. Conceited as I may have been the responsibility of royalty wasn’t something I could handle.”

Fallon hardened his heart. “And what plot had she wrought for you?”

Siobhan laughed bitterly. “She claimed her right to marry me off, to a man who would ‘harass me’ or so she claimed. She chose Garbhan.”

“That cannot be,” Fallon admonished. “For any woman wed to a Knight…”

“Is to be a royal handmaiden, a lady in waiting at her beck and call. Only then would she be within her rights to wield my magick as her own, as she saw fit. Say nothing of how leaden Garbhan’s hands are when it comes to women.”