‘You want to live?You do as the king ordered.’It was callous, but I was in no mood to give comfort.
We entered the queen’s chamber.A grand bed was the centre-piece, framed with emerald silk drapes, but it was the loveliness of the young woman sitting upon it that left me breathless.
She was wearing a delicate lace robe.Long golden hair flowed over her shoulders, and she held a tiny bundle in each arm.Her face was pale, but her cheeks and the tip of her nose were rosy as though she had been outside on a winter’s day.I had seen thequeen in the finest of gowns – her neck and wrists draped in jewels – but here, like this, unadorned and happy, she was her most beautiful self.
The queen raised vivid green eyes at our entrance, and I watched as her happiness descended into fear.Like a stone, guilt sat heavily in my gut.
Her lady-in-waiting moved to stand in front of the young queen as if she could stop what was about to happen.
Fergus, not willing to sacrifice his own life, moved towards the bed first.He shoved the lady-in-waiting aside and reached for an infant.
To my surprise, as tears rolled down the queen’s cheeks, she gently gave Fergus her child, then laid her elegant hand on his forearm.Her lips moved silently, and Fergus’s eyes glazed over.
I had overheard a rumour from a table of drunken knights that the queen was one of the Cursed.I had never believed it could be true – she was so greatly loved and respected.
An icy shudder surged through me, and I recoiled at the strange tingle at the base of my neck.I no longer doubted that the golden-haired queen was Cursed.Her power occupied the air around us, and I could taste it with every breath; a dance of melancholy and sweetness that lingered on my tastebuds.
Fergus straightened with the wrapped infant in his arms, turning slowly as if in a trance.He passed me without a care in the world.
Approaching the ornate bed cautiously, I kept my eye on the Cursed queen, who was still holding one tiny bundle.
‘I won’t hurt your child,’ I promised her.‘Would you like me to find the babe a safe home?’The sound of my heart was loud in my ears.Could she hear my fear too?I waited for her to speak while keeping out of her reach.My knowledge of the Cursed was minimal,but from what happened to Fergus, it seemed she needed to touch a person’s flesh for it to work.
‘What is your name?’she asked, her voice sweet and steady over the sound of my racing heart.
‘Iain De Gellar, Your Majesty.’I bowed my head to her.
‘You promise no harm will befall my daughter?’Her green eyes glistened.
‘I swear it.’
‘Then come and take my sweet little girl.’She kissed the sleeping babe’s head and held the bundle out to me.
I hesitated, glancing at the lady-in-waiting, who quickly stepped towards her mistress.She halted when the queen gave her a stern look.
With uneven steps, I moved forwards and took the warm little bundle from the queen’s outstretched arms.I could not bring myself to look down at what I held.Instead, I looked deep into the hypnotic green orbs that seemed to float before me, and the air between us turned bittersweet once more.
‘Iain De Gellar?’The Cursed queen’s lips did not move, but I heard her speak my name.
‘Yes?’My voice sounded odd and distant to my ears, as if it were not me who had spoken the word.
There was a strange tingle at the base of my neck again.I trembled as I tried to fight the icy fingers running down my spine, but I knew my fate had been sealed the moment the blue frost moon cast its light upon me.
†
Rivulets of sweat ran under my armour.I disliked the unnatural heat of the land I had found myself in after two months of travelling.I held the sleeping babe in one arm and used my free handto lead my stallion off the river raft.Paying the ferryman his fee, I gladly left his probing gaze and not-so-subtle questioning behind me, continuing my journey south.
The ominously red waters of the river drew my eye.‘What is wrong with this place, Little Worm?’Her grey eyes were open and alert now, and from the way she was squirming, I knew she was hungry and desperate for her linens to be changed.‘How can people survive in this heat?’Talking to her, I discovered, kept the child distracted until I could find her next meal.Finding a goat or a cow still able to produce milk was becoming increasingly difficult in this unfruitful land, but the constant throbbing in my head urged me to continue.She sucked noisily on her tiny fist as her legs kicked against my breastplate.The nickname I had given her suited her well; the only time this child stilled was when she slept.
I discarded my armour under a withered tree.I was more likely to die of heatstroke than be attacked by a farmer or a travelling peddler.
By the time we had reached the huddle of lopsided cottages, my Little Worm was crying fitfully; the cloth I had soaked in water from my flask no longer satisfied her.
The first person I encountered was a plain, middle-aged woman with tattered shoes and a holey shawl.
‘Good day.Can you direct me to someone who can sell me goat or cow milk?’
She peered at the babe, sucking furiously on her tiny fist.‘Follow me.I know someone who might be able to help you.’
