Page 33 of Wicked Things

He turned back toward the councilman. “I ask that each council member come forward now, one by one, to swear an oath of fealty and loyalty to me and to my consort as their new liege lords.”

There was an uncomfortable moment when I thought they would refuse, but finally Councilman Oisín bowed before him first.

“I, Councilor Oisín of the House of Fenimon, swear to be faithful in my promises and pledge fealty to the king and his consort. I pledge all my loyalty and allegiance to King Fionn and his consort, Braden, son of Callum.”

One after another the councilors came then, each one stating their name and the

“house” they were from, and they were followed by the heads of every noble family in the kingdom, who did the same. Though some of them looked uncomfortable, all swore their oaths to be Fionn’s loyal subjects.

Fionn nodded as each one bowed and left to take their seats, one after the other, until finally Councilor Oisín announced that all in attendance had made their pledges.

“And what of the king’s stepbrother, Ehlbert? Where is he? And his son.”

“I believe Lord Ehlbert and his son were called away on urgent business a couple of days late yesterday, not long after your unfortunate meeting with them,” the councilor Oisín replied. “I’m not sure when or if they’re returning.”

“I see,” Fionn said. “Ehlbert’s interests are too closely aligned with that of Falias. Until he and his house swear loyalty to us and divest their interests and residence in Falias, they will no longer be received in Gorias. They must break all ties with Falias if they wish to return and then swear themselves to my service. It’s only because Ehlbert’s mother was once queen here and is buried, I believe, on the temple grounds that I will allow even that much.”

Oisín bowed to Fionn, though he looked uncomfortable. “Of course, your Grace.”

“Make sure the guards who serve at the gates are aware of Ehlbert’s new status.”

“I will, Your Grace.”

But before any of us could move or say more, a rider suddenly tore through the gates on his horse. The crowd fell back to let him through, and he was moving fast, bending low over his saddle. As he drew closer to the crowd, a murmur ran through them. I saw then that Tadgh, at least, had returned to Goriana, though he appeared to be all alone. I could see that his tunic was ripped and smeared with blood and his face dirty and scratched up. His usually immaculate clothing was disheveled and in complete disarray as if someone had tried to rip it off him. He had scratches and bruises all over his arms, along with those on his face and he hadn’t bothered to wipe away the blood. He rode toward the dais, but Fionn’s soldiers quickly blocked his path so that he had to fling himself from the back of his horse and dodge around them to push and shove his way up to us. The soldiers were in hot pursuit, but the crowd intervened, not attacking the soldiers, but managing to get in their way enough to stop them and allow Tadgh to approach.

Fionn stepped in front of me, making sure I was behind him, his hand on the hilt of his sword. But Tadgh came running up to the steps, still staying on the ground at the bottom, never attempting to mount the steps to reach us. He unbuckled his sword belt and fell to his knees in front of us.

Gripping the sword by the scabbard in both hands, he raised it up and bowed his head. In a voice shaking with fatigue, he said, “Greetings, Your Grace. My sword is yours. I hereby pledge my fealty to you, King Fionn and your royal consort Braden.”

Behind us the entire assembly erupted in cheers.

****

Fionn

Kings keep their thrones not only through fear and loyalty, but also by weaving alliances and securing debts. And of course, by keeping the populace happy. Tadgh was a handsome young man, even among Faeries, and he was full of smiles and charm. Though I didn’t fully trust him, he was obviously a favorite among the Gorians. I stepped down closer to him.

“I accept your service and your offer,” I said. “But arise. I like to see a man’s face when I speak to him. Let me see yours, while you tell me what’s happened. What has befallen you? Why do you arrive here with both you and your horse looking exhausted and injured, like you’d been in a desperate run for your lives?”

“We have, Your Grace,” he replied, getting slowly to his feet to look directly at me and then back at Fionn. “The capital city of Fethalos in Falias came under attack early this morning by a demonic ogre horde. We fought them off but suffered great losses. The guardsmen and citizens of Fethalos fought valiantly but we were all taken by surprise and there were too many. The horde managed to crowd against the gate and burst it open. The air filled with screams as many of us rushed forward to try and bolster the guards’ numbers. We all swept our swords back and forth, trying to drive them back, but they kept shoving forward.

“There was a frenzied combat inside the first gate to get them out after the breach, and we managed, but only with great loss of life. Too many of the devils made it through, though we managed to kill them inside the second gate. The people took up arms with knives and axes and hoes and any manner of weapon they could lay their hands on, while the old, the infirm and the children sought refuge inside the council hall. We barricaded the doors and windows to keep them safe, and finally managed to drive the devils out, but I don’t know how long Falias has until the horde manages to breach the gates again. I was one of only three men who were able to make it out to ride for help, but both my comrades were brutally butchered as we fought our way to the nearest portal. I had to make sure I wasn’t followed, though they tried. Luckily the portal, as you know, is close by Gorianas.

“I beg and beseech you now for your help, Your Grace. Give me some soldiers and help me go back and drive away the evil horde. My father’s still inside, and his life and the life of every man, woman and child inside Fethalos depends on it.”

He slumped down exhausted before me, as I stared down at him. It was quite a tale, and men and women were weeping and wringing their hands at his passion and his manly tears as he told it. It might even have been true.

But who or what had attacked Fethalos? His horse was obviously injured and bleeding from its many wounds, as was Tadgh himself. I didn’t believe his wounds were self-inflicted, nor did I think he’d deliberately wounded his mount. Clearly, there had been some sort of battle, but…was he saying a demon horde attacked the principal city of Falias out of nowhere? Completely unprovoked?

“But who or what attacked Fethalos, Tadgh?” I asked, leaning forward to grip his arm.

“Ogres!” he replied and sank back down to his knees. His head drooped in an exhausted faint.

I heard Braden cry out behind me, whether in pity and admiration for Tadgh or in fear and horror over the ogres. If it were the former, I would have things to say about that.

For now, I went down to help Tadgh up, as my captain also rushed down, and there were numerous calls for a physician from the crowd. Tadgh had only swooned, however, and soon came around.

As for the ogres, I didn’t put it past them, but it was a little hard to swallow at the same time. The great Sidhe cities were known to be home to warriors and standing armies, and they were far from being simple outposts with only farmers to protect the people. The ogres knew we would fight to the death to defend ourselves and repel any attacks. And they knew we were powerful and had magic like they did. That’s why they mostly left us alone.