Chapter Fourteen

 

 

The day of my wedding dawned bright and beautiful, shades of rose and orange streaking the sky. I stood on my balcony, wrapped in a fur robe, and watched as it lightened into pale dandelion, and then into pale blue. Clouds appeared, streaking across the blue with pure white slashes. As white as my wedding gown.

I turned to look at the finished dress, hanging from a rack beside my mirror. It looked as if it had been woven into the sleek shape. Every piece, from the fitted sleeves with their rows of pearl buttons, to the skirts with their lace hem, appeared to have been woven together. The neckline was modestly curved, but the waist cinched in tight. The skirts were very full, but since they were made of the finest silk, they would hang heavy around my thighs. There was a train, which would be attached to the dress by a diamond-studded, velvet belt. A matching diamond necklace waited on my vanity, laid on a bed of blue velvet along with my crown. I was already wearing the underclothes Barret had designed for me.

I took a deep breath of the crisp air and allowed myself to be truly happy. My wedding day was here at last. In just a few hours they would be mine, and I would be theirs. No one would be able to separate us. It brought such a feeling of utter peace to me that I wanted to fall to my knees and thank whatever had brought them to me. Be it God or simply good luck. Thank you for changing my life.

I turned when a knock came at my door and watched as a procession of women filed in, led by my mother. She looked radiant, already dressed in her finest crimson gown, and wearing her most elaborate crown. She saw me and started to cry.

“Mother,” I rushed to her. “Why are you crying?”

“I'm just so happy,” she sobbed, “You'll be married to men you love and who love you. I couldn't have hoped for anything better. I'm so sorry I ever opposed this marriage.”

“You were just being my mother,” I shook my head and then hugged her. “And I love you for it.”

“I love you too, Addy,” she pulled back and wiped at her tears. “Now let's make you so beautiful, those men will faint.”

“Fainting men,” Jenny, one of the maids, giggled. “Now that's something I'd love to see.”

“Then get busy, girl,” my mother waved her along. “We have work to do.”

Two hours later, I was standing outside the doors to our chapel, holding my father's arm. My lips and cheeks were lightly rouged, my hair was loose and curling (as Arnet had shaped it once), and my dress was perfect. My father walked me forward, my train flaring out behind me, as I clutched a bouquet of roses and ivy. My men were waiting at the altar with our priest, looking as nervous as any bridegroom could. They were all dressed in white, just as I was, but their garments were leather and velvet. And they looked amazing in them.

They saw me and went still, all of them smiling at once, and my mouth went dry. It was almost too much male beauty to behold at one time. How would I ever hold my own with them? All they would have to do is look at me like that, en masse, and I would crumble. But then I noticed how they stared at me with the same wonderment, as if they couldn't believe we would soon belong to each other.

“That's a set of anxious young men,” my father chuckled.

“And one anxious young woman,” I said back. “Thank you, Father, for giving me this. Them.”

“You're welcome,” the King said as he led me up the little steps to my grooms. “May all of you be happy together,” he said to us. Then he backed away, to stand on the side until he was needed again.

The men came forward, two to either side of me, and I held my hands out to them. Two hands slipped beneath each of mine, and then we all faced the priest together. The priest was nervous, more so than we were, and fumbled through his Bible till he found the page he was looking for. Then he fumbled through the ceremony and fumbled through the blessing. But when it was our turn, and we spoke our vows to each other, we did so clearly, our voices resonating through the chapel with conviction.

I had finally removed the little ring they had given me, so that they could replace it with my wedding band. This was done with all of them holding an edge of the gold ring, and then slipping it carefully on my finger. I smiled at the glimpse of our future, the sharing of everything, even something as small as a ring, and I glanced over my shoulder to see my new father-in-law, Bayard, crying openly beside my mother. He nodded and smiled brilliantly at me.

Then the priest proclaimed us married and stepped back. It was my father's turn. The King strode up with four squires, each one holding a velvet cushion. On the cushions were crowns for the new princes. My father crowned them one by one, proclaiming them all to be his new heirs, the next unified rulers of our kingdom. The small gathering cheered, and then my husbands took my hands and led me out onto the palace steps, where a massive crowd stretched back into the surrounding village.

The King eased past us and proclaimed loudly, “With the greatest joy, I present to you the Princess Adelysia and her new husbands, Prince Robyn, Prince Arnet, Prince Hugin, and Prince Barret!”

The crowd roared, cheering like God himself had come down to earth to announce my marriage. My father beamed, his prediction of a warm reception fulfilled, and we all looked at each other with sublime happiness. Which lasted all of five minutes.

That's when the screaming started.

It was my mother who screamed first, pointing to the sky in terror. I followed her finger to find two dragons bearing down on us at incredible speed. One was a deep black, like distilled evil, and the other a brilliant emerald, brighter than summer grass. They breathed fire over the village as they came, burning my people and sending the survivors running for their lives.

My father shouted to his knights, calling for trebuchets and dragon lances, the calm tactician within him, immediately emerging. He placed my mother firmly into the hands of her ladies and bid them to hide and protect their Queen. They ran off together, and my husbands turned to me, no doubt to say something similar.

“The hell I will,” I snarled and yanked my belt off, tossing the train over the side of the stairs, in a dramatic arc. It fell to the courtyard and was trampled by terrified people.

“Adelysia!” Robyn snarled. “Get inside the castle, now!”

“No,” I watched as my father rushed away to handle the knights, leaving me in, what he surely believed, were capable hands. I turned back to my husband and laid a palm on his cheek. “Sometimes you have to fight for your happiness. I'm done waiting for life to hand me what it will. I have love within my grasp, and I refuse to cower while you defend it for me. We shall defend it together.”

With that, I ran to the nearest pile of lances, thrown down hastily by stumbling squires, and picked up the smallest, lightest one. I knew who those dragons were. Malcolm and Meara, Saunder's parents. They had come to avenge their child, no doubt. Well, they wouldn't find the princess cowering in fright. Not this time. Not this princess.

I ran to the battlements as I heard Arnet shout that he was going for his gun, and for the others to watch over me while he was gone. My remaining husbands cursed, collected their own weapons, and chased after me. Once I reached the top, I stopped and stared. From there, I could see the distant sea and the numerous ships that darkened the horizon. Even if we survived the dragon attacks, we'd still have to face their army. The dragon royals were going to make sure they made us bleed.

We were already bleeding. My people were dying before my very eyes, burning and being torn open by dragon claws. I pulled back my spear and felt my crown go toppling down my back. I didn't care one whit. I may not be a warrior, but I knew how to throw a spear. I had trained with dagger and lance, just as my father had accused me, and I was a fairly good shot. Wouldn't my new husbands be surprised?

“I'm here!” I shouted to the dragons. “Leave my people alone and come face me!”

The dragons screeched and turned in a circle, shining eyes setting on me fiercely.

“Addy!” Barret shouted. “Please come away from there!”

“Just stand beside her,” Robyn growled. “It's too damn late for anything else.” He gave me an angry but admiring look as he did exactly as he'd suggested to Barret, and stood beside me, hefting his own lance to his shoulder. “We shall defend our love together,” Robyn nodded to me.

“I love you, Robyn,” I said to him, and kissed him quickly, as the dragons screeched in fury. I looked to the others, “I love  you all so much.”

“We love you too, Addy,” Hugin shook his head. “Just throw the damn spear already.”

The dragons breathed more fire onto my people, taunting me.

“Come and face me!” I shouted to them. “You strike out at those defenseless beneath you, but you cannot fight one woman with a spear? Cowards!”

The dragons roared. But below them, my people rallied. They shouted and pointed up at me, their princess in her wedding gown, facing down the dragons with her new husbands beside her. It was enough. Enough to motivate them to find weapons and face the threat themselves. Objects started flying at the dragons, everything from pitchforks to pumpkins. The dragons dodged and roared, wheeling in the sky.

I smiled at that. If I died on those battlements, at least my people would know that I had fought for them. With them. That I wasn't some useless jewel to be put on display or given away. Their princess was more than a slave in pretty clothes; she was their defender.

The dragons rushed us and I tensed, preparing to throw my lance.

“Right beneath the chin,” I said to my husbands. “Hit them there, and you'll kill them.”

“Who is this woman we married?” Barret breathed in wonder.

“So we don't have to aim for their eyes; like Arnet does?” Hugin ignored Barret, in preference to teasing me. “Well, that's a relief.”

The dragons dipped and came up along the wall, no doubt intending to roast us as they surged past. I watched their jaws open and tensed. Barret threw his spear. Too soon, I knew it immediately. It missed, ricocheting off the tough dragon scales. A little more... I threw my lance. Seconds later, Robyn threw his, followed closely by Hugin. Both men missed, but they had hit the emerald dragon square in the chest, hard enough to send him veering off course, his fire spewing harmlessly over our heads.

I had aimed for the black, knowing full well it was Meara. And my aim was true. Everyone, including myself, gaped as she fell from the sky. The spear had struck up into her skull, killing her instantly. There was no shrieks, no painful moans, she simply plummeted to the ground, crushing some wooden carts beneath her. My husbands turned their shocked faces to me, and I smirked.

“You still want me to go inside?” I asked them.

“No,” declared Arnet as he joined us. He had his gun in one hand and a lance in the other. “I want you to throw another lance, soldier,” he tossed me the spear, and then went to the stone crenelations and leaned against one. Arnet laid his gun on the stone and calmly sighted on the shrieking emerald dragon.

“That's my daughter!” my father shouted from the ramparts across from us. He had a group of knights, all holding lances (and all gawking at me), standing beside him. “I love you, my brave girl!”

“I love you too, Daddy!” I shouted back and then turned to face Malcolm with a smile.

No one was more surprised by Meara's death than her husband. King Malcolm clawed at the air in grief, roaring and spewing fire randomly. Then he circled back and headed straight for us.

“Do I even need to bother?” I teased Arnet as he focused on his prey.

“Adelysia!” my mother's shout sent a shiver of cold down my spine.

I glanced behind me and saw the Queen running up the steps to the battlements.

“Eufemia, get inside!” my father shouted at her.

“Not without Addy,” my mother kept running for me, her maids scampering behind her bravely.

“No,” I whispered as I watched Arnet turn, distracted by the shouting.

I brought the lance to my shoulder, but I was too late, Malcolm was already upon us. I thought he'd surely burn us all to cinders. I was certain we were about to die. But Malcolm had decided that such a death was too good for us, too quick. He wanted to pick us off, one by one, and tear us to pieces. Starting with my sweet Barret.

I screamed as the dagger-like talons struck my husband in his stomach, then watched Barret tumble backward. My other husbands roared denials around me, but only Arnet and I had weapons. My father and his knights were too far away to help us. My mother and her ladies were useless, dropping to the ground to scream in terror. As tears coursed down my cheeks, I threw my lance. It missed its mark, but it didn't matter because Arnet had fired at last. And Arnet never missed.

Malcolm crashed down the side of the castle wall, tumbling head over tail, to lie in a motionless heap on the rocks below. My husbands and I instantly ran down the stairs to where Bayard was already holding Barret, crying brokenly over his son. I was crying too, for the first time since I was a little girl. I just knew this had been too much happiness for me. Too much joy for one mere woman. But did Barret have to pay the price? Sweet, kind, beautiful Barret.

I dropped to the dirty ground beside Barret and laid my hand on his forehead. He was cold, his sightless eyes staring up at the sky in shock. His abdomen was a mess of blood and entrails, the stench of bowels blending with the tang of blood. Battlefield perfume, they called it. I had never thought to smell it myself, much less inhale it as it rose off my husband's body. I bent over Barret, laying my hand to his wounds, trying to put him back together. If it had been anyone else, I would have asked Barret to stitch them whole. He had told me that his needle worked on living flesh too. Barret had once sewn baby birds back together, right inside their shells, and they had been born healthy and whole.

But it was Barret lying there, dead on our wedding day, and he would be doing no more stitching.

“My son, my dear son!” Bayard wailed. “You lied to me,” he cried out to no one in particular. “You said they would live forever. You said whomever they loved would live forever. But here lies my son! Dead! Why?”

As we all gaped at Bayard, wondering at his strange words, I felt a twitching beneath my fingertips. I jerked back in shock and Bayard abruptly stopped wailing. He looked down with sudden hope. Barret's flesh started to pull back inside him, everything knitting together as if he had done the stitching himself. Blood and stench disappeared as if it never was, and soon Barret laid whole beneath us. He gasped and sat up, hands flying out to his sides.

“Barret?” I felt my jaw fall open. “How?”

“A mermaid!” Bayard screeched in delight. “Bless you, you watery woman! She did not forsake me. My boy!” He hugged his son to him, and Barret gaped at us, as shocked as we were about his resurrection.

There was a sharp scream, and then my mother fainted.