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Knights of Passion
The Fairy Queen of Elwenhal
Book 7
Chapter 1
Frantic to rescue Cassandra and Aereth, Zelda cast a portal spell and went immediately to Elwenhal. Because she had gone there body and soul – rather than through dreams as Cassandra had – Gweneth knew Zelda would be in full power and did not envy the fairy queen the fight to come.
She didn’t envy Calain, either. The second Zelda had gone, Gweneth lunged on her. They went rolling across the floor, scattering grass mats and upsetting pots and pans as they yelled and punched each other. As Calain rolled on top of Gweneth and punched her in the face, Gweneth was vaguely aware of Selene and Neserie yelling. Neserie was angrily waving her broom and shouting something unintelligible, while Selene kept reaching in, trying to grab them apart, only for them to roll suddenly out of reach.
Gweneth lay on her back and spit blood, glaring up at Calain, whose face was twisted as she pulled back, preparing to punch again. Gweneth blocked the blow with her forearm and gave Calain a sharp uppercut to the face. She was satisfied to see Calain go tumbling back and lunged on her, grabbing her in a headlock.
Calain grunted angrily and pried at Gweneth’s bulging arm with her fingers, but Gweneth held on. Calain’s nonsense had caused all of it – Cassandra’s capture at the hands of Melvalda, Aereth being kidnapped, Cassandra’s capture again at the hands of the fae—and Gweneth wanted to make her suffer for once. Calain was always doing stupid things and facing no consequences with all the rewards! Predictably, she had won back Zelda’s love, which Gweneth did not believe she deserved at all.
“You are like small babes!” Selene bellowed in much frustration, but it was Neserie who finally stopped the fight.
Standing cold and calm, Neserie glowed with power, licks of loose gray hair beating about her wrinkled face in an ethereal wind. Her eyes glowed, and they saw the door fly open of its own accord, and Gweneth and Calain were lifted bodily and hurled out. As they landed sprawled in the yard, the door slammed again behind them.
Gweneth had landed hard on her face. She sat up on her elbow, spitting sand and blood, and glared at Calain, who had landed beside her.
“Have you gone mad, Gwen?” said Calain in amazement. She stared at Gweneth with wide green eyes.
Gweneth rolled her eyes and lurched to her feet, dusting herself off. “And of course, you would play the doe-eyed innocent after all you hath done,” she snarled, going to the step and sitting down. She watched as Calain dusted herself off and sat beside her, then she laughed. “Or perhaps you are truly so dense that you cannot see how your actions have shaped events. Sometimes I forget thy art a featherhead.”
Calain rested one elbow on her knee and stared at Gweneth in disbelief. “You would blame me for everything that has transpired, when your sharp tongue sent Zelda alone into Dark Bloom? I should have given thee more than one lump back at Wolf Fortress.”
Gweneth cast her eyes down. She had almost forgotten the argument with Zelda in the barn. She had mocked Zelda, dismissed her power as a sorceress, and treated her as a child. She was ashamed for having done so and suddenly realized the anger she was directing at Calain was more truthfully anger toward herself.
“Why dost thou hurt her so?” Calain demanded, but her voice was softer now. She was bleeding from her busted lip but ignoring it to focus completely on Gweneth.
“Zelda is not Annora,” Calain said soothingly.
“I know,” said Gweneth hoarsely.
When Gweneth was a child, she had loved a girl named Annora. She and Annora had grown up in the same caravan and had fallen in love. When she was seven years old, Gweneth set out to become a knight, and Annora had promised to be her lady and to wait for her return.
Though knights were typically assigned to a sorceress, they could choose another lady to champion if they found their own. So when Gweneth returned to Ellormest at fourteen to visit her young love, it was with the expectation that Annora was still there, waiting for her. Instead, she discovered that Annora was betrothed to a boy of fifteen from another caravan. The boy’s name was Dylan, and he came to blows with Gweneth, who horrified Annora with her new super strength when she broke the boy’s jaw.
“He can give me a life, children, a f-family,” Annora had explained when the fighting had been stopped (by the frantic caravanners), tears in her eyes, “while with you I would just be...”
“Happy?” Gweneth had supplied, and Annora had run away weeping.
“You’re always so distraught,” present-day Gweneth said to Calain, “that Zelda hath lain with some other woman, but be glad it was never with a man.”
Calain snorted. “What the devil difference does that make?”
Gweneth gave her a withering look. “We are not attracted to men. Tis a state in other women we shall never understand, nor shall they ever understand us, and that lack of understanding can divide two women so easily.”
Calain still looked perplexed, so Gweneth laughed, shook her head, and clapped her on the shoulder.
“Never thee mind,” Gweneth said fondly. “Do not strain thy featherbrain.”
“You must be kind to Zelda,” Calain scolded, getting back to the point. “You jest often about her power, but only because you have not seen the full strength of it.”
Gweneth thought she had certainly gotten a taste of Zelda’s power. The sorceress had forced her to stand still for a night and a day, completely helpless and trapped with her own thoughts. It had forced a great deal of needed introspection on her.
“I have been as docile as a lamb since she fled us,” protested Gweneth, her face twisting. “Do spare me these lectures.”
“As you will. But only because I am too exhausted to continue. Tis been a long week.”
“And a lot of women, if Zelda’s scathing glares are anything to go by.”
Calain awkwardly scratched the back of her red hair. “Noticed that, did you?”
“Aye,” said Gweneth with a laugh. “When you were approaching up the lane, that elven woman across the way winked at you, I saw it, and Zelda looked as if she would flay thee alive if thou responded.”
Calain laughed as well, though in a dispirited sort of way. “It was only three women—”
“Only three?” Gweneth’s eyes popped. “As ever, the women do flock to thee, and thou acts as if ‘twere nothing! I want details: positions, tit sizes, was she a good snatcher?”
Calain laughed, this time with genuine delight, and Gweneth suddenly felt as if everything were back to normal, as if they were in their bunks on Falcon Isle, sharing stories of the maidens they had lain with, as they always did.
Just then, the door opened behind them and Selene emerged. Like Gweneth and Calain, she was out of her armor, instead wearing a tunic and trousers. She came down the step, her hands in her pockets, and shook her head at them wearily.
“Grandmother hath said the two of you are not allowed back inside,” Selene said, looking down at them sternly, “and I agree with her.”
“Your grandmother’s a hag,” taunted Calain, and Gweneth laughed.
Selene’s lips tightened. “Be that as it may,” she said (Gweneth laughed again), “she is correct about your thuggish behavior. We are knights! Not small children quarreling over trifles! We are to behave with dignity at all times! What was the quarrel anyway?” She looked between them.
“Never you mind,” said Gweneth.
Calain looked intently at Selene. “How is Zelda? And the others? Have they returned?”
“No,” said Selene heavily, “and I expect it shall be a while. That is how these magick things tend to unfold.”
“Don’t worry, Selene. Perhaps Zelda’s new necklace will guide her back to us,” said Calain mockingly.
Selene colored up.
Gweneth looked curiously between them. “New necklace?”
“Aye,” laughed Calain. “Selene gave Zelda a bauble to win her affection . . . or to get more lay time? Most likely both. She pretends to have no appetite but is the greediest of us all—”
“Shut your mouth, Calain,” Selene said quietly, “or I shall shut it.” Her dark eyes were fierce.
Calain looked up at Selene in amusement. “What shall you buy her next, Selene? Nipple clamps?”
Selene tensed, as if she would pounce on Calain and thrash her, and Gweneth, laughing, got to her feet and held out her arms. “I know tis tempting to punch Calain’s face in,” said Gweneth, “but you are right, Selene. We should not continue to fight amongst ourselves. Truly, it is adolescent.”
Selene still stood tense with rage as she stared into Calain’s mocking green eyes. Eventually, she abruptly turned away, and they saw her march off down the street, wandering blindly, her dark braid streaming. Gweneth started to go after her, but Calain said wearily behind her, “Let her go.”
Gweneth turned back to the step and sat beside Calain again. For as long as she could remember, Calain and Selene had been at each other’s throats. The day she arrived on Falcon Isle, she had walked into the training yard, and the two were going at it while Knight Octava struggled to pry them apart. And in the years that had followed, they had continued in the same vein, fighting over women and weapons, horses, and even the attention of those knights who mentored them at the academy. Yet at the same time, they loved each other like the closest sisters. It was madness.
Gweneth had never understood Calain and Selene’s rivalry, try as she might. She had six sisters who all got on with her wonderfully. They didn’t fight or hit each other but instead protected and cared for each other. She supposed it was a part of caravan culture, for there were few families among the caravans that bickered the way Calain and Selene did, and if they did, they were asked to leave. Caravan people were very strict about keeping the peace.
“Why dost thou constantly provoke her?” Gweneth asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.
Calain’s eyes were still on Selene’s retreating back, and now, instead of glittering with mirth, they were dark and bitter. “She seeks to make Zelda love her more than I,” she said grimly.
“Or,” said Gweneth in exasperation, “perhaps she seeks Zelda’s attention. Zelda is always moaning on about you. The whole time you were gone, she was insufferable. Weeping and carrying on. ‘Oh, where is my Calain!’”
Calain glanced away guiltily.
“Anyway, what does it matter if Selene gives Zelda a present? I have given her presents as well,” said Gweneth. “So hath Cassandra.”
Calain looked at Gweneth in surprise. “You’ve given Zelda presents?”
“Aye. A carving I did of her.”
“That’s not the same as a necklace!” Calain said at once. “Selene is clearly trying to woo her.”
“What does it matter?” laughed Gweneth.
“Zelda is my lady! Or at least, she was mine first, which means she should love me the most! Selene is trying to replace me in her heart!”
Gweneth only laughed. “Love hath made muttonheads of the pair of you.”
Calain looked at Gweneth irritably. “And what about Cassandra? What did she give?”
“A new gown,” said Gweneth. “The one she was wearing when she came here, in fact. Zelda needed new clothes after the whole Black Bear madness, so Cassandra went shopping for her while she was in town.”
“What was she in town for?” said Calain in amazement, for venturing into town was still dangerous, as they were still wanted by the Rose Guard, or had been at the time.
“To find a goat that was nursing. Zelda was all determined to run off to save you from the Gold Keep. We needed a way to feed the babe,” said Gweneth pointedly, and she was glad when Calain dropped her eyes in much guilt and shame.
“I have caused all of you so much trouble,” Calain admitted. “I slew the queen, and you became fugitives to aid me. Then I threw away your sacrifice by turning my back on my duty, by dismissing my vows. Truly, I apologize.”
“I shant be happy until you wash all my linen and cook my supper seven nights in a row,” Gweneth teased and was glad when Calain smiled. She didn’t want her to suffer too greatly.
“I shall never leave again,” Calain promised. “Not just because of Zelda, but for your sake as well. Zelda hath told me how the Rose Guard nearly overtook you and how Cassandra’s mother had to step in to save your lives. That wouldn’t have happened had I not forsaken you. Perhaps Arryn was right. I am just a child, unworthy of you all, unworthy of the oath I took.”
“Arryn? The elven knight?” said Gweneth, amused. “So she is a friend of yours after all. She came here and warned us of your arrival.”
Calain scoffed and now she looked a little angry. “I wouldn’t call her a friend. I caught her fucking Zelda – Tis not funny!” she growled, for Gweneth had burst out laughing.
Gweneth finished laughing with a happy sigh. “And let me guess,” she said, shaking her head, “you tried to chop her head off, but she handed your backside to you. She was small but seemed formidable.” Sort of like Gweneth herself, she thought. She had always been a little small compared to the other knights, but she had rarely been felled in battle.
“She did not defeat me!” Calain said indignantly. “We were evenly matched! If she hadn’t resorted to cowardly spells—!”
“All right, good Calain. Do not work yourself up into a hissy fit. Come.” Gweneth stood. “Since we are no longer allowed inside the hut, let us find Selene and make certain she is well. It is foolhardy for any of us to wander alone knowing we are wanted by the law.”
“Aye,” agreed Calain wearily and got to her feet.
They started off down the road as darkness fell, ignoring the suspicious stares of the elves on their doorsteps. After a while, Calain said with hesitation, “Did Zelda really weep for me?”
Gweneth laughed. “Why? Would it make thee happy?”
“Yes,” Calain admitted, and Gweneth laughed again.
“Aye, Calain. Zelda wept . . . She sobbed and her big tits heaved while she sat on my face.”
Calain playfully elbowed Gweneth, who laughed again as they continued down the street.