Chapter 20 | The Tale of Two Kingdoms

"Goodness, child!" came the voice of an older woman. "You'd as like to've scared me to death!" A pair of plump hands parted the bed curtains, fastening them back against the bed posts; light poured in from the windows.

"Who is it?" asked Emmae, squinting.

"Just old Meg, dear. I'm to take care of you. So says Master Gill." As Emmae's eyes adjusted, she saw the speaker was a fat little woman almost old enough to be her grandmother, with a broad, pleasant face framed in gray braids. She held a pitcher of water. "Up with you, now, let's have a look at you."

Emmae stood uncertainly, pulling her hair about her. "Oh, now, nothing I haven't seen before, sweetheart," said Meg, "We're all women here. I've a chemise for you, once you've cleaned up. See? Nice warm water I've brought you. Come have a wash," she coaxed.

Emmae took the sponge from her, and Meg smiled. "You are a pretty little thing." She busied herself airing out the bed. "No wonder the prince took to you. You're a lucky girl, Master Gill tells me they rescued you from some horrid shack in the middle of nowhere."

"Rescued me? They took me from my home!" Emmae replied angrily. "They took me from my man! I don't want to be here!"

"Now, now, dear," said Meg, taken aback, "no need to holler. I'm sure I don't know the half of it. You get yourself cleaned and dressed--see, a nice, new chemise right here on the bed. I'll go and fetch your breakfast and you can tell old Meg all about it when I come back." She turned to the wall and touched the magical lock. The door appeared and swung open.

"Wait!" cried Emmae. "Please--please let me out, Meg. I implore you. Please let me go home!"

"Oh, child," said Meg sadly. "I wouldn't betray Prince Hildin for the world. I was his nursemaid when his mother died. He was the last baby I took to breast and he'll always be my darling. No, my Hildin wants you here, and even were I to disobey him, you can't cross this threshhold anyway." She disappeared through the door, leaving Emmae to sponge the tears from her face and ponder her new caretaker.

When the door opened again, Emmae was washed and dressed. "Will I be given my own clothes back? Or at least some kind of a skirt and bodice? I can't run around in a chemise."

"I'm sorry, dear, but I was told this is all you'll be needing," said Meg demurely. "Master Gill hadn't intended to give you even this, but I insisted. Now. Here is your breakfast--honest bread and butter, a little nibble of fish, and a good sweet wine. Then I'll brush your hair out for you and you can tell me your story, eh?"

In spite of herself, Emmae was starving, and tore into the food. "Talk to me while I eat, please, Meg," she said. "Tell me why Prince Hildin hates his brother so."

"Oh, Prince Warin. Poor dear, it's not his fault my Hildin hates him so." Meg sighed. "No, it's their father. King Gethin. He took it badly when Queen Sella died, and blamed Hildin. She died bringing him into the world, you see, and the king--it was a love match, miss, if you can imagine! He mourned and mourned. His majesty never forgave my poor babe. Couldn't stand the sight of him. Sent Hildin away with me to the court of his cousin, the Duke of Whithorse. He grew up there, away from his father and older brother. I was all he had, excepting Master Gill, but then, Gill wasn't much of a playmate--the Duchess didn't give birth to him until Hildin had lost his first tooth, he was a bit of a surprise, Gill was. All their other children were nearly grown. But as soon as he could walk, Master Gill would toddle after the prince with all his might. I can still see him on his fat little legs..." Meg looked off into the past, chuckling.

Emmae finished eating and wiped her mouth. "If Prince Warin was the favorite, and the heir, why was he sent away?"

"Goodness, girl, where did you grow up?" Meg tutted, untying Emmae's long braid. I wish I knew, thought Emmae. "Everyone knows the prophecy."

"I don't," said Emmae, wincing as Meg worked on a tangle.

"When Prince Warin was born, the Traveler Queen was invited to the naming, for good luck, as she always is. Anything but luck, that one was! She foretold that the baby prince would never take the throne, or a wife, unless his father's lifeblood was shed. Well! If Queen Sella had lived, Hildin would very probably have been made the heir just on the strength of that prophecy alone, and Warin would have been sent away!

"But that's not what happened," said Meg, shaking her head as she dragged the brush through Emmae's thick hair. "My sweet boy was sent away instead. King Gethin brought us back to court once Hildin's voice dropped, but the boys never did get along. Hildin hated Warin for being his father's favorite, and since they'd spent so much of their lives apart, there was no brotherly feeling between them. Miss, I tell you, it made me so sad. It still does. Two brothers, with no love between them at all. Not long after Prince Warin reached his majority, he renounced his claim and left--took off in the middle of the night, he did, with only what he could carry. He swore he'd never return for fear he'd somehow kill his father."

Emmae thought soberly. "Was Warin ever a soldier?"

"Well of course, miss, he led our troops against the Northern Incursions the year before he left! I wonder where you've been. I'll say this for him, he's not my Hildin, but he was a brave commander. Never asked his men to do anything he wouldn't do. Always in the thick of it, he was." Meg began twisting Emmae's hair into a simple bun at her nape. "But here I've done all the talking and I wanted to hear how you ended up here, sweetheart. You're a lucky girl, catching my prince's eye. You're pretty enough and young enough that you may keep it longer than the last few, if you're cunning."

"I never wanted the prince's attention. I was happy at home."

"And where is home, dear? You sound as if you're from Leutefloss," said Meg. She fastened up Emmae's hair.

"My home is wherever my woodsman is."

"And who knows where that is," said Hildin, entering the room. "Meg, you may go." Meg gave him a love-filled smile, curtsied and left the room. "He's not coming for you, Emmae. You're just a bit of skirt to him."

"I refuse to believe that," she said, turning away to the windows. But inside, she was troubled. If Warin was a prince--and it appeared he really was--then why would he care to come chasing after a girl he found in such circumstances as hers? She felt the first tendrils of despair begin to curl around her heart, in concert with Hildin's fingers on her bare shoulders.

But Warin was coming for her.

He and the younger Traveler men rode hard that day toward the Keep, leaving the caravans behind with the women and children-all but the Traveler Queen. "I was there at the beginning, I'll be there at the end," was all she'd said when Warin had questioned her choice to come along. She galloped along with the men, betraying the great age she seemed to bear. Indeed, there were times when Warin would look at her and see that much younger woman again, but the glimpse was fleeting.

That night before he settled down to sleep, he took out the mirrored box and looked for Emmae once more. His heart leaped as a room took shape in the mirror. In the center of the room, as naked as the day he'd found her, stood Emmae, her skin golden in the candlelight. Tears stained her pink cheeks, and she looked breathless.

A figure joined her, a man barely out of boyhood, slender and fair. He was naked as she was, his arousal hard against his belly. "Gill," Warin growled to himself. "Cousin, your life is mine." Warin watched as Gill took Emmae's face in his hands and kissed her deeply. With the same hesitation Warin knew from their first days together, Emmae pressed herself against the boy, letting her head fall back as he moved his mouth down her body. He took a handful of her shining brown hair and used it to bend her back over his arm. Gill took a nipple into his mouth, and Warin saw Emmae cry out and pull Gill closer.

Suddenly, his brother stepped before the mirror, blocking Emmae from his sight. Hildin winked, blew the mirror a kiss and reached out. The image in the mirror vanished, and Warin saw only his own face staring back at him, twisted in anguish.