Wild Is My Love (21 page)

Today Alric was irritated by Isobail’s enchanting beauty and appeal, traits that had ensnared him too many times. This woman had dared to imagine she could steal his crown and slay him! She had dared to delude his subjects! Presently she dared to seize control of this meeting! He had not realized how clever she was, but he did now. The lords and others were hanging on her every word, and agreeing with her. Baltair had warned him to walk slowly and gingerly, and it was good advice. It took every ounce of strength and wisdom Alric possessed not to expose her treachery. Not yet, he cautioned himself.

“My wife will hold silent! I am the ruler here.” Alric spoke tersely. “It would be rash to challenge Vortigern in his own land. Logris is larger and more powerful than Damnonia. He could crush us. We have no proof Vortigern has become our enemy. We will send a message to him and request his aid in this grievous matter.”

Alric halted a moment to catch his breath and sip the wine Leitis had served him earlier trusting that what-ever
she placed before him would be untainted. “If he refuses, or if I learn he commands the brigands, then I will decide how to defeat him. Peace has ruled our island for many years because no kingdom has invaded another. Hasty actions could destroy this balance of power and set us all on a path of bloody destruction.”

He gazed around to see how his words were falling on his vassals. “Have you also forgotten we are a part of Cambria? For Damnonia to declare war on Logris is the same as Cambria doing so. We must challenge these mysterious brigands carefully. If we cannot defeat them in this territory, we will summon help and permission from the king, then pursue them wherever they ride.”

The prince wiped moisture from his face and trembled slightly, but he was too distracted to notice the returning symptoms. He wet his throat again with a sip of wine. “Sheriff Trahern, place your spies near the Logris border to discover when and where the brigands cross it. After they enter my land, set your trap at their return point.”

“It is a good plan, Your Highness, but it has failed to date,” Trahern protested. “Each time we have lain in wait for them, they did not return by that road. I will try it again. They cannot evade us forever.”

“I will send a warning to my father in Cambria so he can be prepared to aid us if necessary. Trahern, select two of your best men to deliver my message to King Bardwyn. Send them out immediately.”

“As you command, my liege.”

“Our prince is right, and we must obey him,” Lord Orin said. “To invade Logris without proof of Vortigern’s guilt would be dangerous. It would be wise to approach him peacefully before we make, war against him. Perhaps he will join us to push the brigands and Jutes from both our lands.”

Fury consumed Isobail, although she kept silent and appeared respectful. But before this day ended,
she vowed to herself, Alric would be writhing in agony again, and soon he would be out of her way forever! First she must learn how and why he had gotten well?…

Alric began to fidget in his chair. He felt a distressing flush creep over his body and nausea steal into his throat. Those warning pains sliced through his insides again like a white-hot blade. He feared the damnable illness was storming his body anew. He glanced around at the others, to discover that the food and wine—from the same platter and jug—were not affecting anyone else in this tormenting way. No one had gotten near his food and drink, so neither could be to blame this time. It had to be the malicious return of his accursed illness. He squirmed in his chair as the spasms grew worse. Knowing the swift and embarrassing pattern of this sickness too well, Alric was desperate to flee the room.

Isobail comprehended Alric’s problem. “Are you taking ill again, my husband?” she solicitously inquired. “I knew you should not be out of your bed so soon.” She called servants to assist Alric to his chamber.

“Be gone!” he yelled at them in distress, startling everyone. “I am not a child or an old woman. I can walk to my chamber alone.”

Isobail rushed to his side and whispered, “Come with me quickly, my husband, or you will humiliate yourself before them. Do, not fight me, Alric. I only wish to help you.”

The prince was weak and shaking. He knew he had hesitated too long at the table. There was no time to argue, so he accepted her assistance. Yet he made it only halfway up the winding stairs before his stomach and bowels cut loose with a vengeance. They halted only long enough for the violent attack to cease.

Afterwards, Isobail urged Alric to his bed. She stroked his sweaty brow and entreated gently, “I know it has been difficult to remain abed so long, but you
must not push yourself before you are healed properly. Next time do not leave bed the moment you feel better. For once, allow your body to rule your head.”

Her light blue gaze settled on the miserable prince as she vowed, “I have done nothing more than to love you and help you, to fill your place while you are ill, even if I made mistakes. I do not understand why you suddenly mistrust me. The way you treated me downstairs humiliated me. I beg you, Alric, do not do so again. I live only to serve you and your people.”

Tiny points of guilt pricked Alric after Isobail departed his chamber. She had looked so hurt, so vulnerable, so misjudged, so innocent. When she was like this… No, he protested, it is simply a trick to deceive me. The acts against her are too great.
But, are they facts,
his groggy brain argued,
or only doubts and fears?
Baltair and Alysa had never liked Isobail, he concluded, and perhaps they were mistaken. If his wife wanted him killed, she had been given plenty of opportunities. At the mercy of the potent herb, Alric’s befuddled mind ran this way and that, playing cruel tricks on him.

Baltair had prevented Alysa from rushing after Isobail and her father. He knew what was about to take place, and he wanted to spare Alric the shame and Alysa the dismay of it. As they spoke quietly, neither could place this relapse on Isobail or Earnon. Baltair said, “If it were in the food or drink, we would all be ill. To be certain, I have taken his goblet and will give the remaining wine to a servant and watch her closely. If she does not take ill—”

“You are so clever Baltair. I am glad you are helping me.". Alysa realized that Alric’s relapse prevented her from undermining Isobail’s influence. She would do as her lover suggested, wait and watch. As arranged today, they would meet again in two days.

Isobail returned to the Great Hall and spoke with the feudal lords who were standing together. “My friends
and retainers, to make certain my husband stays abed until he is well, we must not trouble him again with our problems. He is vanishing before our eyes, and we can do nothing to help him while he suffers from this
disease.”
She used the last word deliberately, knowing it would intimidate the others into staying away from Alric. “He is too dazed to realize Vortigern’s Jutes are challenging us. I fear if we do not strike back, they will invade us and destroy us. But we will obey our liege by gathering the proof he demands. When it is in our hands, then we will resolve on our course of action.”

Anxiety filled the eyes of those present at the thought of catching a wasting-away disease. “We can be of no help here, Your Highness,” Lord Orin stated, giving her the title of regent again. “We should return to our homes and await your commands there.”

“You are most kind and loyal, dear Orin. I shall never forget your defense of me today. I shall send news within a few days, or come to visit you. Will that pleasure you or burden you at this time?”

Orin was heady from this royal attention. He smiled broadly and gushed, “It will be a pleasure and an honor to entertain you, Your Highness. I will rush home to prepare things and await your arrival.”

“I will journey there after three nights.” She watched the men leave quickly, and wanted to laugh aloud at their stupidity.

Isobail summoned Trahern and quietly ordered, “I need not tell you to keep those messengers from reaching Bardwyn or all is lost. Do not fret over Alric’s nasty words; if he tries to replace you, the lords and peasants will side with you. This setback is annoying, Trahern, you must find more ways to implicate Logris and Vortigern in these troubles.”

“I shall obey you, and miss you,” her lover replied.

“As I shall miss you. Meet me at Orin’s in four days.”

The princess turned to locate her sorcerer and said,
“I wish to see you in my chamber, Earnon.” To Alysa, she remarked, “I will speak with you tomorrow, Alysa. Do not disturb my husband tonight. I hope you are not the one who encouraged Prince Alric to harm himself today by leaving his bed too soon. Even when I am not here, you must obey my orders.”

Baltair placed his arm around Alysa’s shoulder and squeezed a gentle warning to keep the princess from verbally battling her stepmother. Alysa hated it when Isobail spoke and behaved like a queen, The Queen! Alysa clenched her teeth and glared, but held silent.

Isobail grinned. “Baltair is wise, Alysa, heed him well. Until your father heals, I am regent of Damnonia; remember that.”

Alysa watched Isobail’s departure, Earnon trailing her like a mindless sheep. She glanced around the hall to find everyone gone. Looking into Baltair’s warm brown gaze, she promised, “She will never be ruler of Damnonia, not while I live and breathe!”

Isobail whirled on Earnon and demanded, “What was that fool doing out of bed? I left you here to keep him there.”

Earnon concealed his anger and tried not to appear defensive. “Your servant met with an accident four days past, and I have not replaced him yet. I must move cautiously to find someone we can trust. Each day I have tried to sneak the herbs into Alric’s food and wine myself, but it has been difficult. His head was already clearing when I discovered the servant was dead. And there is another problem… I think Alric suspects we are slowly poisoning him. He has been refusing all wine until today, and allowing only Leitis to serve his food. I did not have the power to change his orders to the guards and servants. But I have been observing Baltair closely since his return, and saw nothing odd there.”

Isobail pondered his words, then commented skeptically, “You were not near him downstairs. How did the attack seize him when others drank from the same jug and ate of the same bread?”

“Your daughter slipped it into his goblet during the excitement of your return,” he replied, having planned his strategy well.

“Kyra? Why would that little snip do such a thing?”

“Kyra is smart, like you. She even cleverly exchanged the goblets during Alric’s frantic departure, in case someone checked it later. She thinks much like you, Isobail, and guessed your plot against Alric. She persuaded me to allow her to help us get rid of Baltair.”

“You told her everything?” Isobail shrieked.

“Do you think me mad?” he shot back. “She asked me things and made remarks that told me she knew too much and should be taken into our confidence. Kyra can be a great help to us. She proved that downstairs when she laid your husband low, and did so without arousing a single suspicion. She can aid our plot against Baltair. Your daughter worships you, Isobail, and she craves your love. All she wants is to help you, to make you proud of her. She would do anything you asked of her.”

“If that little snip can discover our plot, then we are being mindless, Earnon, and others can do the same. Perhaps she told Alric the truth.”

“Isobail, Isobail, you are being silly,” he scolded her. “She only guessed because she is so much like you. Why do you hate her? Do you not realize what a prize she is for you? She is not as beautiful, but she resembles you closely enough to play your part at a distance, if you ever have need of an alibi.”

“I have told Sir Calum he can have her soon. I need him.”

His heart pounding in trepidation, Earnon argued, “Presently you need Kyra more. Any loyal knight can
fill Calum’s place, but only Kyra can rid us safely of Baltair.”

“What is your plan, my bewitched sorcerer?” she teased.

“We must be serious, Isobail. Times are getting perilous for us too. Your plot has taken root and now grows rapidly. Do not allow foolish spite against your own child to hinder its growth and bloom.”

“Do not scold me like a child, Earnon. I am your ruler.”

“Heed my words, Your Highness, and you will become everyone’s ruler,” he retorted frostily, as if fearless. “If not, my powers are of no use to either of us. Which shall it be?”

Isobail fumed and paced, then glared at him. Sighing loudly and deeply in annoyance, she yielded, “I will listen to you… and agree.”

“While you were gone I studied my books and found the perfect potion to destroy Baltair. Since he knows much about herbs, it must be a clever one.” He explained the wicked spell to her and watched her beam with delight.

“Do it quickly, dear Earnon, but do not allow the guards to rescue little Kyra too quickly. Let Baltair have his fun before he dies.”

Earnon comprehended her implication and gaped in shock. “We cannot allow him to ravish her. It is only a trick to slay him. She will never agree to defilement. She will feel betrayed.”

“It will be more convincing to everyone if Kyra is… injured slightly by the madman. If she truly wishes to help me, she will obey. You did say she would do ‘anything’ I asked of her.”

“But she is your own flesh and blood.”

“There are more important things at stake than little Kyra. If you wish to remain at my side throughout this
victory and to earn Lord Orin’s castle, you will convince her to obey me.”

“I will try, Your Highness,” he murmured, knowing he would not. He had known she was evil, but not like this. If she could betray her own child, his secret love…

“Do not try, Earnon, do it,” she ordered sullenly. “Then I will hand her over to Sir Calum as his reward. Soon I will make him a feudal lord. She will be both a princess and a lady. What more could she want from me?”

“It will require a little time. The planets must be in perfect position for the maddening spell to work. I am charting them now.”

“How long?”

“The sun and moon must shine a certain way on the wheat I use. I will know within a few days.”