The Heir (12 page)

“Lord Cadman?” Luana’s brow furrowed as she
tried to understand what the Princess was implying.

Isla gave a malicious grin. “Yes, you know
him, certainly. He is who you have to thank for this little…
arrangement.”

Luana felt sick. Anything that Cadman was a
part of was vile, foul and twisted. “Why would Lord Cadman care who
Prince Baylin was to marry? He only ever cares about his own
gain.”

Isla smirked, poking Luana’s shoulder with
her finger. “That’s exactly right! You’re much smarter than you
look, little girl.”

Luana’s thoughts swam in a cloudy haze as
she tried to figure out how Isla and Baylin’s abominable uncle were
on the same side.
Why would Cadman need Isla to marry
Baylin?
It doesn’t make sense. He wants the Kingdom for
himself. Isla would simply be another obstacle for him.

Isla cupped Luana’s chin roughly, disrupting
her thoughts. “Look at you. Like a child trying to figure out a
riddle. Truly adorable. Too bad you won’t figure out the answer
until after you’ve been cast out of Baylin’s life for good.”

Luana kept her mouth shut. Isla wanted her
to continue fighting, and she would not give her the
satisfaction.

The Princess smiled in amusement, assuming
that she had gotten the better of the little bed wife. She turned
and walked to the door, Luana following close behind. She turned to
face Luana. “You try to be so strong, bed wife, but in the end,
power, title, wealth… that is what strength is. Those are things
you will never have.”

Princess Isla was in the hallway when Luana
turned to her. “And you have forgotten that Baylin will eventually
see you for the evil snake you are. Even a hundred years of
marriage to you will not compare to the year he has spent with
me.”

The Princess’s face screwed up and she
attempted to retort, but Luana cut her off quickly as she pointed a
finger in her face. “There may come a time when he’s forced to
allow you to hold his hand, but rest assured, you will never hold
his heart. That belongs to me, and me alone!”

Before the Princess could process the words,
Luana slammed the door in her face.

Prince Baylin’s plan had worked. Scouts
brought back reports the troll hordes nesting in the mountains on
the outskirts of Mirstone had been almost completely destroyed. The
elf maid had been correct with her gifted magic; the fire burned
hot and only traveled up the mountain. Many of the trolls were
burned in the raging fires. Still more were struck down by the army
awaiting them at the foot of the mountain. The bulk of the battle
had not lasted long, only a day and half the night. The trolls had
no choice. They could burn or flee. Those who did manage to survive
by escaping into the caves on the mountainside were gradually being
sought out by Prince Baylin’s men.

Two weeks after the battle, smoke continued
to curl from the blackened corpses of ashen trees and trolls alike.
Baylin and his men kept a watchful eye on the mountain for any
activity from the remaining trolls. Though most of the men felt it
was time to abandon the mountain and celebrate their victory,
Baylin knew the battle had been won too easily. The number of dead
trolls did not compare to the amount forced up into the mountain
pass when Baylin and his men arrived in Mirstone.

The Prince rose before dawn. He found little
time to sleep, and when he did, his dreams were filled of violence
and death. He longed for the days when he slept all night with
Luana in his arms. He wanted more than anything to return to
Grasmere and be with Luana while she carried his child, but he
could not abandon Mirstone without assurance the trolls had been
banished.

He stood up from the bed and pulled on a
pair of black trousers to cover his nakedness. Making his way
across the tent, he lit a couple of candles on the long table that
he and his men used for planning strategy and discussing battle
plans. The candles fanned soft orange light against the papers
strewn across the table. He sat down near where the candlelight was
brightest and began studying the maps of the area, yet again. He
had spent more time than he could count going over the maps.
There must be a hidden pass somewhere.
The Prince was
certain that many trolls had somehow escaped both fire and sword.
If only I could find out where they escaped; how they
escaped.

Then he remembered the second gift from the
elf.
The herbs.
He reached into the false bottom drawer,
slipping the panel out of the way to retrieve the leaf-wrapped
bundle. Baylin walked over to the fire and stirred the sleepy
embers to life, throwing in a few logs to feed the flames. He
poured some water in a cast-iron kettle and dropped the herbs
inside. He then set it over the heat, allowing it to warm the
mixture inside.
Let’s hope the elf maid knows what she’s doing.
I need to know the truth so I can protect the Kingdoms.

Once the kettle was hot, he poured the
contents into a cup and downed them in three large gulps. He looked
from the cup to his maps.
Show me the truth. Help me protect my
Kingdom.
As he studied the maps, his eyes began to weigh heavy.
The dim light and loss of sleep made his eyes flutter as they
struggled to stay open. Before he knew it, sleep had taken him and
he began to dream.

He was in his bedchamber in Grasmere. The
sun shone through the window and threw a blanket of gold over the
room. Baylin felt the comfort of his soft bed beneath him and the
warmth of Luana’s body snug against his own. The sensation of their
naked bodies touching aroused him.

He reached out and placed a hand on Luana’s
hip. She stirred sleepily and turned to him, smiling.

Baylin ran his hand across her waist and
laid it against her slender stomach. His eyes flashed from her
stomach to her face as panic took hold. “Our child, where is…”

“
Shh.” Luana placed a finger gently
against his lips to quiet him. “Your son is healthy and fine. Would
you like to meet him?”

Baylin’s face lit up in a wide grin as he
sat up in the bed. “A son? I have a son?”

Luana smiled and rose from the bed. She
walked over to a small ornately carved wood cradle beyond the end
of the bed. Baylin rose to his feet slowly as he watched Luana bend
over and pick up a soft, round, rosy-cheeked baby. His heart caught
in his throat as she carried the baby to him.

“
Baylin,” Luana smiled as she presented
the child, “I’d like you to meet your son.”

“
My son? My son.” Baylin didn’t even try
to stop the tears. He let them flow as Luana placed the cooing,
wiggly bundle in his arms.

Baylin leaned in and kissed the baby boy on
the top of the head. The youngster squirmed at the touch of the
Prince’s scratchy beard.

Luana giggled. “He’s perfect, isn’t he?”

“
Yes. Perfect.” Baylin looked up at Luana
through tear-filled eyes. “You both are.”

Luana came up on the tips of her toes to
kiss Baylin on the lips. She then slid the baby from his arms and
placed him back in the cradle ever so gently. She turned back to
her Prince and playfully pushed him until he fell back on the
bed.

Luana climbed on top of Baylin, straddling
him, and leaned in to kiss him. “I’ve missed you.”

“
And I you.” Baylin ran his hands along
the curve of her hips as Luana began grinding against him. Her kiss
became more intense as his hands explored her soft thighs and
buttocks. “Make love to me.”

Her words stirred him. It had been so long
since he had been able to gaze upon her. He wanted to show her how
much he loved her. The sensation of her mounting him sent waves of
pleasure over his body. As she began to push her hips back and
forth, he grabbed her waist, guiding her lunges as he thrust inside
her.

Baylin gazed into her eyes and moaned as he
felt himself coming close to the edge. He closed his eyes as his
body began to shudder, waiting for the pleasure to come. Just as
climax was upon him, Luana screamed out in terror.

He opened his eyes, the sun’s warm rays were
gone and the room had turned dark. He could feel Luana on top of
him as she continued to scream, but he could not make out what was
wrong.

“
Luana!” Baylin screamed, grabbing hold
of her.

The room came to light. It was night and the
room was filled with thousands of candles dripping blood on the
floor. Baylin’s eyes adjusted and he could see Luana before him,
with a sword stuck through her, blood running down her front onto
his lap. The sword was suddenly removed and Luana fell in a heap on
top of him.

“
No!” Baylin screamed out in terror as he
took Luana in his arms. “No! What is this?”

Luana was on the brink of death, gasping
with every breath. “I… I told you… She… Isla… Cad…”

“
Luana!” Baylin cried out as tears ran
down his face. He shook her but she would not wake. Luana lay dead
in his arms as he cried her name.

Baylin heard a sinister laugh and a baby cry
from behind him. He turned at the sound to find Princess Isla
standing there, holding a blood-soaked sword.

The Prince laid Luana down on the bed and
turned to face Isla. “Why? Why would you do this?”

The Princess continued to laugh but did not
say a word. Anger and hatred boiled in Baylin’s veins. As he was
about to lunge at her he heard the baby cry again. He turned his
head to see Lord Cadman holding his son cupped in one arm and
holding a dagger with the other hand.

“
My son,” Baylin pleaded. “Please do not
harm him. Do what you will with me, but please don’t.”

“
Why would I harm the Heir of Grasmere?”
Lord Cadman sauntered up to Baylin as though Luana had not just
died in his arms. “We need him alive.”

Baylin did not understand what was
happening. Why it was happening. “We?”

Princess Isla laughed again. Her eyes
bleeding to black as a serpentine forked tongue slid out of her
mouth, kissing the air with a soft hiss.

“
What is this?” Baylin asked as terror
filled his thoughts. “Why do you need my son?”

Cadman’s eyes appeared to glow crimson as he
fixed his gaze on Baylin. “The heir is mine.”

Baylin screamed out in agony as he felt the
sharp pain of Cadman thrusting the dagger deep into his
stomach.

Prince Baylin woke with a jerk. As he looked
around his tent, gathering his senses, he saw that the sun had
risen. He could hear the sound of birds singing and the muffled
rumble of men talking.
It was only a dream.
He was covered
in a cold sweat, his heart racing from the intensity of the
nightmare. He stood, trying to shake off the terror that flowed
through his veins
. It was only a dream.
He walked to the
opening of the tent and threw back the flap, letting the cool
morning air kiss his skin. The sensation helped to wake his senses
and calm him.
I don’t understand, it was supposed to show me the
truth so I could protect the Kingdom from the troll hordes.
He
was angry at the feeling the dream had cast over him.
That
ignorant elf. Her magic didn’t work. It was just a dream.

As he stood there, soaking up the sun’s
morning rays and trying to keep his body from shaking all over, a
young steward ran up to him and gave a nervous bow. “Apologies,
Your Grace, I must have overslept.”

Baylin shook his head, his heart beating
like a drum in his chest. “No, son, you didn’t. I rose early to go
over some things.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The boy gave a small sigh
in relief and bowed again. “Shall I prepare your breakfast?”

Baylin nodded. “Yes, and I need some water.
I’m to meet with the King this afternoon. I suppose I should be
clean.”

The boy smiled and bowed again before
dashing off to do as he was told.

Baylin returned to his tent and sat down at
the table. The effects of the nightmare had begun to fade, but the
images were fresh in his mind.
This couldn’t possibly be the
truth she spoke of. She said it would give me the knowledge I need
to protect the Kingdom.
Dread filled his heart at the thought.
What if the trolls are not who the Kingdom needs protecting
from?
He felt sick at his stomach. In a few hours he was to
meet with King Gideon and the rest of his family. Baylin had
received word that the royal family had returned from Grasmere to
resume rule of Mirstone. He had delayed meeting with them for
nearly a week, but he knew he was expected to dine with them later
that day in celebration for his victory.

He shoved the maps out of the way and picked
up the letter Luana had managed to get to him through his mother.
The paper was worn from being opened and closed over and over again
from reading it.
My love, if I could only be in your arms.
He read the letter again. With the dream fresh in his thoughts, the
words in the letter brought tears to his eyes, but he would not let
them fall.

His steward returned with a tray of fruit,
cheese and bread, and laid it out on the edge of the table so as
not to crumble the maps. “Your Grace, I will return with your bath
water shortly.”

Prince Baylin nodded and pulled a hunk of
bread from the loaf. He grabbed another map from the table and ate
while studying it.

By the time the steward had returned with
the water, Baylin had eaten his fill. “Thank you. Please, take the
tray and eat what you like.”

The young man smiled. “Thank you, Your
Grace.” The steward hurried out of the tent, closing the flap
securely behind him.

Baylin picked up the pail of water and sat
it on a small table in front of an even smaller looking glass. He
peered at himself in the mirror. His face was dirty, which
exaggerated the fine lines around his eyes that had begun to form
too soon for his age. His hair was mangled and his beard was well
on its way to being overgrown. He had started this battle as a
young Prince, but the man looking back at him from the mirror
looked more like his father.