Read Online Queen of Hearts (The Risen King) by Samantha Warren - Free Book Online
Authors: Samantha Warren
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Aside from those three items, the room was barren stone.
Guinevere beat on the door a few more times for good measure before allowing her voice to taper off. She pressed her ear to the wood and waited. Silence met her. “Good,” she whispered. “Stupid oafs.”
With a wave of her hand, she placed a seal of silence over the door. It was a simple, but effective spell. No sound would be going in or out. She walked to the chamber pot and looked inside. It was empty, a small favor. Curling her nose in disgust, she picked it up. She held it away from her nose and touched it with as little skin as possible as she walked over to the dresser and set it on top.
“ Ugh, I hope that thing was washed,” she mumbled as she wiped her hands on her skirt and reached into her boot. A knife appeared from its place of concealment and she positioned her hands over the pot. “Here we go.”
She drew the blade over her left hand and drops of blood fell from her palm into the pot. “I call on thee, Leanansidhe. Queen of Darkness, Queen of Light. Come to me, Leanansidhe. Listen to my plight.”
Smoke swirled in the pot and boiled out over the top. It writhed and twisted, forming itself into a shape. “I always hated that call. It's so...” The smokey figure waved a hand. “Pedestrian.”
Guinevere bowed her head. “Mother, I have news.”
Leanansidhe's ephemeral form cocked an eyebrow. “Of course you do. Why else would you call?”
The faery's daughter narrowed her eyes at her mother, but ignored the remark. “Your army has arrived. The knights are out there, getting ready to fight.”
“And?”
Guinevere straightened. “And what?”
“Have they called for reinforcements? I need to know when the battle has actually begun, child. I don't care if the knights are getting ready. I need to know when they call the rest of the realm to their aid, when they are deep in battle. I cannot perform my duty if you do not perform yours.”
Guinevere pursed her lips. “Fine. I'll call you again soon.” She waved her hand and the form dispersed. “Ungrateful woman. After all I've done for her she still treats me like a stupid child.”
She tucked the knife back into her boot and let out a growl. Then she walked to the door and waved her hand, effectively dropping the spell of silence. “Hello?” she called through the wood. “Can one of you help me? I think I've hurt myself.”
The door opened. “What did you do?”
Her face a mask of pain and confusion, Guinevere held up her left palm. “I seem to have cut myself.”
The guard focused on it, moving his face in closer. “How did you manage that?”
“Easy,” she said as she tapped him on the forehead with her fingers. He crumpled to the ground at her feet. “With a knife.”
The other guard spun toward her with his hand on his sword. She reached out and pressed a finger to his temple. He crumpled, too. “Stupid men.”
With several grunts and a lot of curses, Guinevere managed to drag the guards into the room and shut the door behind her. She locked it and placed a spell over it before she crept toward the stairs to listen for the telltale sounds of battle. There were lots of shouts and commands, but not the sweet clang of metal on metal she expected.
Padding up the stairs, she peered around the corner of the door. Not a faery or knight was in sight, so she tiptoed up the stairs, past the floor where the knights slept, to the top of the castle. A door on the right lay open and a young faery woman puttered inside the small room. She spun as Guinevere approached.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a small, timid voice.
Guinevere smiled. “I seem to be lost. I was trying to find a window and got myself all spun around. Do you think you could help me?”
The girl eyed her with suspicion. “You're Guinevere, the King's former wife.”
Guin's lip curled and she bit down on her tongue to fight back a nasty remark. Instead, she forced her face to relax and smiled at the
Guinevere beat on the door a few more times for good measure before allowing her voice to taper off. She pressed her ear to the wood and waited. Silence met her. “Good,” she whispered. “Stupid oafs.”
With a wave of her hand, she placed a seal of silence over the door. It was a simple, but effective spell. No sound would be going in or out. She walked to the chamber pot and looked inside. It was empty, a small favor. Curling her nose in disgust, she picked it up. She held it away from her nose and touched it with as little skin as possible as she walked over to the dresser and set it on top.
“ Ugh, I hope that thing was washed,” she mumbled as she wiped her hands on her skirt and reached into her boot. A knife appeared from its place of concealment and she positioned her hands over the pot. “Here we go.”
She drew the blade over her left hand and drops of blood fell from her palm into the pot. “I call on thee, Leanansidhe. Queen of Darkness, Queen of Light. Come to me, Leanansidhe. Listen to my plight.”
Smoke swirled in the pot and boiled out over the top. It writhed and twisted, forming itself into a shape. “I always hated that call. It's so...” The smokey figure waved a hand. “Pedestrian.”
Guinevere bowed her head. “Mother, I have news.”
Leanansidhe's ephemeral form cocked an eyebrow. “Of course you do. Why else would you call?”
The faery's daughter narrowed her eyes at her mother, but ignored the remark. “Your army has arrived. The knights are out there, getting ready to fight.”
“And?”
Guinevere straightened. “And what?”
“Have they called for reinforcements? I need to know when the battle has actually begun, child. I don't care if the knights are getting ready. I need to know when they call the rest of the realm to their aid, when they are deep in battle. I cannot perform my duty if you do not perform yours.”
Guinevere pursed her lips. “Fine. I'll call you again soon.” She waved her hand and the form dispersed. “Ungrateful woman. After all I've done for her she still treats me like a stupid child.”
She tucked the knife back into her boot and let out a growl. Then she walked to the door and waved her hand, effectively dropping the spell of silence. “Hello?” she called through the wood. “Can one of you help me? I think I've hurt myself.”
The door opened. “What did you do?”
Her face a mask of pain and confusion, Guinevere held up her left palm. “I seem to have cut myself.”
The guard focused on it, moving his face in closer. “How did you manage that?”
“Easy,” she said as she tapped him on the forehead with her fingers. He crumpled to the ground at her feet. “With a knife.”
The other guard spun toward her with his hand on his sword. She reached out and pressed a finger to his temple. He crumpled, too. “Stupid men.”
With several grunts and a lot of curses, Guinevere managed to drag the guards into the room and shut the door behind her. She locked it and placed a spell over it before she crept toward the stairs to listen for the telltale sounds of battle. There were lots of shouts and commands, but not the sweet clang of metal on metal she expected.
Padding up the stairs, she peered around the corner of the door. Not a faery or knight was in sight, so she tiptoed up the stairs, past the floor where the knights slept, to the top of the castle. A door on the right lay open and a young faery woman puttered inside the small room. She spun as Guinevere approached.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a small, timid voice.
Guinevere smiled. “I seem to be lost. I was trying to find a window and got myself all spun around. Do you think you could help me?”
The girl eyed her with suspicion. “You're Guinevere, the King's former wife.”
Guin's lip curled and she bit down on her tongue to fight back a nasty remark. Instead, she forced her face to relax and smiled at the
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