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Authors: Lesa Fuchs-Carter

BOOK: When Day Turns Night
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“What is it
Dabid?” Bran asked of the messenger as he panted at my feet.

“An army, my
lord, an army mayhap a thousand strong marches to the city.”

I felt the rush of
my heart and the breath whoosh out of my chest. Bran's hand grabbed
at my elbow.

“Who's army?”
I demanded, my heart and breath the only hints at my feelings. My
voice was strong, my back straight.

“High Prince
Conchobor's. They refused to make a statement as to why they march
on the castle.”

I looked at Bran,
he could be coming to demand my hand in marriage and his place as
King. Or he could be coming to just cut me out completely, which
seemed likely based on the messages in our coffers.

“My lord
Bran, it would seem the time for decisions is at hand.”

Bran looked at the
messenger, then back at me. “Shall I assemble the council?”

I took a deep
breath. This ultimately was my choice. I was acting Queen.

“We shall bar
the gates, settle in for a siege. Prince Conchobor will be allowed
entrance through the side door on the West side, and we will discuss
this, but I will not have an army within my city walls. I believe my
father would want it this way.”

“Summon the
captain of the guard,” Bran said to Dabid, who dashed almost
before he had finished his statement.

I stood silently on
the wall watching as the army came in, a thousand strong. Trian
stood on my right and Bran at my left. My heart ached, we had
brought in everyone we could. We had enough in the stores to last
until spring, but we needed to plant the fields then, or we would
risk a hard winter next year.

“I would say
closer to twelve-hundred, my lady Princess,” Trian said quietly
beside me. “And catapults. He raised a spy glass to his eye,
“seventeen by the looks of it.”

“And how many
cavalry would you guess, young Captain.”

Trian scanned the
ranks again. “About two hundred.”

“He brings an
army?” My mother's voice sounded from behind me. She was
standing straight and tall, her face somber. It was the first time I
had seen her outside my father's chambers since he'd passed. Ita
stood beside her. It was rare that my little sister wasn't grinning,
or at least very animated in her emotions, but now she stood straight
beside my mother, hinting toward the regal woman she would someday
become, her hair was braided back from her face and made her look
older.

Trian and Bran
bowed low to my Queen Mother, and I tipped my head.

“He does,
Mother.”

At that moment
Conchobor rode forward on a large Clydesdale, the horse's thick body,
backed with Conchobor in full armor was intimidating, but atop the
walls of the city I felt safer.

“You bar the
gates to your future King and your betrothed, Jesmaine?” He
called up to me, his thick black hair was braided back, his beard
braided in two short braids in front.

“You bring an
army to the gates of your future Queen, betrothed, and her city,
Conchobor?” I responded.

Even from our
distance I could see his glare, the squinting of his eyes in anger.
The firm set of his mouth. His mother sat upon a smaller white horse
at the front lines farther away, her white hair shimmering against
the darkness of the army.

“You refused
to marry me when I came for a peaceful marriage! Even with your
father's blessing and declaration!”

“There was no
refusal, only a delay,” I knew the arguments I had would not be
strong, but I had the backing of my council, and the Baron had
promised to send word to his friends and associates along the border.

“You affront
my family and slight my mother and father's deeds by your 'delay!' I
demand the marriage for peace tonight!”

My mother's hand
met mine, she was Queen, but she had given me over the power.

My father was a
brilliant man, when he knew he would not have a son to pass the line
to he taught me as much as he could. Though I would never have the
authority of a king, I knew how to rule, I knew how to lead an army.

“I have
already told you I will marry you when the snows thaw and spring is
upon us. Tis but a few short months. You and your mother are
welcome within these walls, visit with us and let us get to know one
another before we marry. But send away your army first!”

Conchobor paced
upon his big horse, the steed chomping at the bit as he yanked
sharply at the reigns. “You will marry me by sun-down of your
own accord or at dawn I will force you to!”

I could see this
was a force of his will. That he would not allow me to exert my
power. I was to be a meek shadow behind his will, but I knew too
much of his rulings on the borderlands. Though I had never met the
Baron I had met Trian, and I knew I could trust him.

I turned to my
mother, daring not to show my fear, though my mouth had run dry and
my heart ached with the possibility of starting a war. I knew of Mac
Raith, the histories of torture were known amongst my people. Even
now there were some who feared him beyond the grave. I would not
allow another force like him to be upon my throne.

My mother's eyes
told me what to do. The sad set of her brow, the fear of the
possibilities.

I looked at
Conchobor again, squaring my shoulders. In a loud voice, booming so
the people who stood behind me in the courtyard listening to my
words, my soldiers nobly and strongly upholding the castle of King
Dauid, who's very ashes blessed the town's heart, would never doubt
that I tried to ensure Conchobor's rule. That I respected my
father's blessing.

“I beg of
you, Crown Prince Conchobor, please, do not do this to your future
kingdom. A spring marriage would be an act of faith that you will
rule with a steady and fair hand. That you will respect the wishes
of my father and our council, that you will honor your father by
bringing peace to this land and your mother by honoring its beauty
and its people!”

Conchobor glared up
at me, knowing that I was setting forth demands, that I was going to
become a true queen not the shadow and wisp he'd desired.

“By sundown!”
He screamed, fury in his voice. He spurred his steed away, racing
back to his army. I bowed my head, praying to God to save us.

I stood silently
watching the sun dipping low on the horizon. The merchants had sent
me the snow fox fur coat they had promised for my wedding. I wore it
about my shoulders, were they telling me to marry him?

My council was
assembled in the hall, and the captains of the guard lined the walls.
I turned to regard them.

“We can not
go under another king like Mac Raith,” an older man with bushy
white hair said, casting aside one of the letters from my father's
coffers. “But how do we know that these are truthful.”

“My lord!”
One of the soldiers said from the side, “Captain Trian and his
squadron came from the borderlands that are beside Crown Prince
Conchobor's kingdom. He is regarded as a trustworthy and well
respected man. He came from the Baron's land, and can bear witness
to the Prince's hard and unforgiving hand.”

Trian stepped
forward, recalling things he had witnessed, some were stories by
refugees fleeing to the Baron's land, some were first hand. The tale
was long, and I turned to watch the sun again. It seemed as though
my head was in the guillotine, waiting for the sun to fall and with
it the blade. Either choice seemed wrong, my father's blessing kept
running through my mind. “None shall usurp him as heir and
future king save the son of my blood...” My heart ached, I was
not a son.

I realized that
Trian's words had ceased. I swallowed, taking in a deep breath and
turning to them. I looked at each of them in turn. Every one of
them knew what we should do, Mac Raith had been a scourge upon our
land, he would burn fields simply to ensure his crop was the only one
and people would need to rely on him. He would bed any woman he had
a fancy on, some times keeping them to impregnate to spite their
marriage bed. Trian's words confirmed that Conchobor could easily
become that monster.

My eyes finally
fell on Trian's. The stormy blue met with my brown. I was falling
for him, but that could not be a factor to my choice. I was grateful
that though it was it was so small that no one would doubt my
reasons.

“Tonight we
prepare for war.”

I sat silently at
dinner, my mother and Ita sat at the table with me. Ita was
recalling the many things she'd been seeing of people preparing the
kingdom for a long siege, all food had been delivered to the stores
save a few days worth, they would be counted and measured, and food
stuffs would be given to people in rations. Some activities in the
kingdom would stop, in favor of sending the people to daily training
for war, my father had encouraged learning places, and most of his
kingdom knew the basics of fighting.

“Oh mother,
do we stand a chance with my father's blessing cursing us?” I
said, putting my head in my hands as tears fell.

My mother's hand
touched my shoulder, “Our King was a wise man, but he was
human, and his fault was his trust. We will pray that his trust has
not doomed us all, the siege perhaps can grant us time to discover a
way of honoring his blessing in another way. Eat, you need your
strength.”

I stood silently
watching the stars circle the heavens above in the gardens beside my
personal chambers, though the snow covered the beautiful plants it
was still beautiful. At dawn Conchobor said he would force our
marriage.

Mighty Orion stood
in the stars, his sword upraised. As a child I had envisioned him to
be like my mighty Conchobor. I had dreamed he would be a king to
defend my honor, to allow me to rule by his side, to love and
cherish.

My tears continued
to fall, silently here, where no one would see, my body ached for
comfort, for some realization on how to honor my father's blessing
despite Conchobor's tyrannical traits.

“My lady
Princess?” I turned to Trian, his smile was soft, but sad.

I had thought I was
alone. What was it about him that drew him to me? That drew me to
him? I sobbed, my body shuddering, and I collapsed to my knees. Why
could he not be Conchobor? Why could he not be the crown prince?
True of heart a leader, despite his playboy ways.

Trian knelt beside
me, wrapping his arms about me, stroking my brown hair as it cascaded
against the white fur.

I wrapped my arms
around his waist, burying my face into his breast, smelling the
leather of his armor, the sweat of his work. He was firm, warm and
real, holding me close.

It was late, near
midnight, the castle was quiet near my family's chambers, but
bustling on the other side, preparing for dawn, we were secluded
here, alone.

I felt Trian's hand
stroke my cheek, tipping my chin up toward him. Our eyes locked and
I could see the love he had for me. We had not meant to do it,
falling in love. But I could see it within his eyes, written in the
concern in his brow, the need in the pool of his blue eyes.

His lips met mine
timidly, so soft, so gentle. It was my first kiss, and beautiful,
even in the chilly winter night it heated me to my core. When my
lips soften and I returned the kiss, his became more aggressive,
pressing firmly to mine, his tongue dancing within my mouth.

I shivered against
him, though it wasn't from cold, he read it as such.

He scooped me up
and carried me up the steps toward my chambers, our lips still
locked, my arms wrapped around his neck.

He set my feet on
the floor in front of the hearth, so I stood in front of him. He
pulled back the slightest bit, his eyes still closed, his mouth
parted. I could smell mint upon his breath still.

“I should
go,” he murmured, though he made no move away.

“No, you
should stay. Likely in the coming weeks my hand will be united to
Conchobor. Allow me this night for love. Have my virgin blood,
Trian, plant your seed within my womb.”

His moan echoed in
my hear, the aching need within him, his shattering of will of
leaving destroyed. His mouth met mine hungrily, and he wrapped his
arms around me, he danced me back to his bed and removed the white
fur cloak, casting it to the floor. My fingers worked quickly at the
lacings on his sides removing the breastplate and casting it to the
floor. His hands were undoing the cords on my front, spilling my
breasts to the warm. I trembled, and things slowed, his hands were
soft, exploring my breasts gently, when he stooped and kissed them my
body clenched deep in the pit of my stomach.

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