Song of the Fairy Queen by Valerie Douglas Read Free Book Online

For her the battles would be over. It pained her to leave Morgan and her friends in the Marshals, but she had this duty and knew how important it was. She was a simple woman but not stupid, and she knew what they’d entrusted her with – the hope of the Kingdom.
    For the boy first, for the Kingdom second, for Morgan her Captain and Oryan her King, she would keep him safe. Hope would follow.
    Smiling reassuringly, Kyri reached into Liliane’s thoughts and, building on Liliane’s dreams of a life someday with a husband she loved, of a child of her own, she created memories of a brief stint with the Marshals, of marriage and loss. Those planted memories would fade over time, so she would remember who it was she guarded.
    With luck, Haerold’s wizards wouldn’t probe so deep, so soon. Not yet.
    “No one,” Kyri confirmed, her lips curving as she covered over Liliane’s years with Morgan but not her skill with sword and bow. Liliane would need to teach them to Gawain.
    Memories altered, Liliane and Gawain rode off happily, the rickety wagon taking them away from death and destruction.
    And so Gawain was sent on his way.
    Oryan waited. His eyes met Kyri’s. He hadn’t missed the small moment of kindness toward his son and he was grateful for it.
    “He’s safe, Oryan,” Kyri said, looking at him as she vaulted onto her horse. “As safe as you, Morgan and I can make him.”
    A sigh whispered from the King.
    It was better this way, Oryan knew. If he fell, at least his son would live. There would still be hope.
    “I know. Kyri, thank you,” he said and looked away for a moment, “for saving my son.”
    The tears he dared not shed prickled behind his eyelids.
    Gawain hadn’t even known who it was he should wave goodbye to, or why.
    It was done.
    Now the war began.
    For a time the small band was silent as they rode. The sun followed them, east to west, before they turned somewhat north, eyes alert, retracing their path, Kyri’s scouts flying high above. The small group melted into the trees or below the horizon at the first hint of approaching riders.
    “It’s time,” Morgan announced finally, reluctantly.
    They’d moved north again, but further east. It was an unexpected move they hoped, and a necessary one if Oryan was to attempt to reach Dorset quickly. Not for Morgan, who returned now to Caernarvon.
    If he lost Morgan, his strong right arm…
    Kyri watched, her eyes steady on his.
    She ruled her small people alone, and for far longer than he…how could he do any less?
    A small smile touched her mouth…understanding was mirrored in her aqua eyes.
    Oryan had known it, awaited this moment. A gusty sigh escaped him, mixed of anger, acceptance and grief.
    “Good luck, old friend.”
    Morgan sat back on his horse to look upon this man he’d served so long.
    Tall, Oryan had a long, strong face and broad shoulders. Morgan had always known Oryan was tough; they’d fought the reavers to the north together when Oryan had been Prince. Nor had the early years of his reign been easy; their neighbor to the west had thought to take advantage of a young King new to his throne. It had taken a few pitched battles to prove him wrong. Those days had honed that strength and these last days had shown it. Blow after shattering blow and yet Oryan had continued on, he hadn’t wavered nor bowed even in the face of his grief.
    For his people, for his Kingdom.
    As Oryan’s friend, Morgan had stood for him at his wedding, had known what Gwenifer had meant to his friend, not only as wife, lover and friend but trusted advisor. No one had ever doubted Gwen’s sharp mind. Nor had there been time for Oryan to truly grieve her loss – for either of them to do so – and Morgan feared he wouldn’t be there for Oryan when there finally was.
    In the twelve years since Oryan had taken the crown, Morgan had stood beside Oryan as he settled the Kingdom. He’d brought law to some areas that had never known it and peace with all their