|
Excerpts
Owletta
By Ellen Margret
Chapter One
In the Kingdom of the Faeries, all
was well. For the most part, the faeries were happy as most faeries
usually are for they have an unerring ability to see the good in
everything. Of course, there were exceptions for just as individual
personalities vary in the land of the humans, so too do they vary
amongst the faeries. The king for example could be moody and
arrogant, not desirable characteristics to be sure, but in his own
defense he would remind his subjects that it was the worry of
running a kingdom that made him so. His loyal subjects did not fully
understand this since the kingdom ran so smoothly that there was
little to be concerned about.
The crops were bountiful. The fields
were a luscious green and dotted with beautiful daisies, buttercups,
poppies, wild orchids and cowslips. Beneath the ever permanent,
glistening rainbow, the rabbits and unicorns ran across the land
with wild abandon. But it never rained during the day. The rainbow
was just a legacy of the precipitation of the night. Rain only fell
during the night whilst the sun shone warmly all day long.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed faeries
lived in joy and peace. Crime was unheard of, places of
incarceration did not exist for faeries were honest and noble, and
there was simply no need for such dark places in their kingdom of
light. The kingdom was filled with music and song and happy chatter.
But the very best sounds of all came from the laughing lips of
little faery children and the contented gurgling of faery babes.
And sadly this was what was missing
in the lives of the king and queen.
“But not for very much longer,” the
queen whispered to her husband who lay in the royal bed beside her.
Frowning, the king touched his wife’s
swollen belly. “You have lost eight babes, Admira. None survived
longer than five days.”
Queen Admira did not allow the tears
to flow. She was the queen of the faeries and had to be strong and
optimistic. “This babe shall live and will bring us the joy that we
do so deserve.”
“And all eight babes were girls. Can
you only make females, my wife?”
Queen Admira sucked in a breath. She
found the tone in her husband’s voice accusatory, and it made her
feel sad. “This babe shall live because I sense that it is a boy. He
will be a strong boy who will one day rule as king.”
“I hope that your senses speak true,
Admira. You are the oldest woman in the kingdom to carry a child. In
fact, you should be a grandmother by now.”
“I realize that this child will be my
last, Emporo.”
“Then it must be a male.”
She looked up into the eyes of the
king and shuddered, for she liked not what she saw there. They were
not the eyes of the happy, handsome prince that she had wed so many
faery years before. They were darker and more cynical, and so she
had to quickly look away. “It will be a healthy male child.”
The king ran his finger around the
rim of the polished wooden goblet that held his clear, elderflower
wine. “I must have an heir, Admira.”
“I know this, Emporo.”
“Then also know that if the child
dies then I shall be forced to do that which no faery king has ever
done before. Realize, wife that the Oblue dynasty has been in
existence for five thousand faery years, and this noble house shall
not end with me. Always the king has produced a male heir and, as a
consequence, the kingdom has prospered.”
“But could we not have a queen,
should I bear a female?”
He shook his head vehemently from
side to side. “Never has it been done. Always there has been a male
heir, and that is the way it must be for order and stability in the
kingdom.”
A single tear did fall. “Then if I
bear a female, you will seek another queen.”
The king sipped his wine, stared at
the intricately made flower tapestry on the wall, and merely nodded.
Her heart constricted. She felt real
fear and tried not to show it. “This time, all will be well, dear
husband.”
“It had better be.” He tossed his
goblet across the room, his anger getting the better of him. “I am
laughed at, Admira. My own brothers laugh at me. Younger brothers
and all three of them have large, thriving families.” He smashed his
fist into his palm. “I am the king. I should have everything that
I want, and I want a male child!”
The queen recoiled as the king
suddenly jumped off the bed and lurched to his feet.
“I shall have what I want!” he
shouted. “I want a male heir and,” he continued, wagging a finger at
his wife, “if I do not get what I want then be forewarned that your
life is going to change drastically.”
Queen Admira was shaking; she had
never felt so terrified. Her dear husband was turning into a
monster, and she was the cause of it. She was to blame because she
was incapable of giving him a living child. She clutched her belly
and felt the babe in her faery womb give a strong kick. It reassured
her a little, the kick was very strong indeed. That had to mean it
was a male.
--------------
Alconia
By
Ellen
Margret
Chapter One
The wedding of Prince Hawke and
Owletta was a joyous occasion. Faery wine flowed freely in the
banqueting hall of King Emporo’s palace. Giggling faery children
passed around dainty blackberry tarts and tiny strawberry pies, and
the adult faeries danced and were merry. The hall was decorated with
sweet smelling flowers of every kind, and the faery minstrels in the
gallery played upon pipes and lutes to create the most melodious of
faery music.
Prince Hawke danced with his wife,
the beautiful Owletta. He would have danced with her all evening had
not the king taken him aside and instructed him to give the faery
groom speech.
“Yes, go on, Hawke,” Richard, Hawke’s
brother, insisted. “Tell us how much you love Letta, not that we
don’t already know.”
“You love her, too. For years, you
thought she was your sister. Why don’t you make the speech in my
stead?”
Richard chuckled and wagged his
finger. “Oh, no, brother, the king has decreed that the faery groom
shall make his speech. I wait with baited breath to hear what you
have to say. Just because in the land of humans the best man also
makes a speech, it doesn’t have to be that way here.”
“What is that you say?” the king
interrupted. “In your world, the best faery speaks also.”
“Yes, it is our custom. Often the
best man’s speech is the longest. It’s also supposed to be funny.”
The king sat down upon his throne.
“We shall hear two speeches. Hawke, you may deliver your speech
first.”
Hawke held up a small piece of faery
parchment. “It’s all written on here.”
“But that is a tiny piece of paper,”
Queen Admira declared. “You cannot have much to say, my son.”
“What I have to say,” Hawke said,
taking Owletta by the hand, “is that I am the luckiest soul in all
of faery land. I have the most beautiful faery that ever existed as
my wife. She is expecting our babe, and because she is here, all is
perfection in the land of the faeries.” Hawke kissed Owletta on the
hand. “Thank you for becoming my faery wife, Letta,” he declared. He
turned to face the faery guests. “Thank you for coming to our
wedding. Drink until you are well into your faery cups. This is a
time to rejoice.”
“That was very brief, Hawke,” the
pretty, silver haired faery, said as she entered the hall carrying a
bottle of elderflower wine.
“Yes, Alconia is right. That was far
too brief, Hawke. I think that love has dulled your senses. Richard,
you are Hawke’s human brother. I shall hear your speech,” the king
announced.
Richard ran a hand through his dark,
chestnut hair. “Err, I don’t actually have one.”
“You are a human,” the king shot
back.
“Yes, and they always have something
to say,” Alconia added. “I find, though, that the words of a mere
human are not always worth listening to.”
Richard arched an eyebrow at the
faery princess. “I shall speak.”
Queen Admira took her throne beside
the king. “We are listening, Richard of the mortals.”
Richard took a sip of faery wine,
wishing it were strong whisky. His eyes grew wide, and he took
another, larger sip.
“Careful what you wish for in faery
land,” Hawke laughed.
“I think my brother has just tasted
whisky,” Letta giggled.
“How did I do that?” Richard gasped.
“Today is a special day,” the king
explained. “There is much faery dust in the air. On such days,
wishes can sometimes come true.”
“Heck,” Richard said. “I think I
could grow to like it here.”
Alconia flicked back a silken strand
of her hair and tossed Richard an imperious look. “You won’t be
staying long. You leave with your mother and father upon the
morrow.”
Richard glanced at his mother and
father. “Dad, I’ll bet you’ve turned your wine into real ale. Mum,
have you got a gin?”
They laughed and raised their
glasses, nodding.
“Ah, I thought so. Make the most of
it. As Alconia says, we leave tomorrow. Now, as for the speech, well
what can I say? We have just witnessed the marriage of Hawke and
Letta. I understand that never before has a mortal married a faery
princess, but then, theirs is such an unusual story. Hawke was born
in the land of humans and taken from our mother at birth. He was
brought here and raised as a faery prince.”
“We all knew he was odd. He couldn’t
fly,” Alconia said, sharply. “And he was too big and too dark and
too ugly.”
“Enough, daughter,” the king said,
raising his hand.
“I never thought Hawke was ugly,” a
young faery with golden blonde hair said.
PDF Ebook
HTML Ebook
PRINT
|
