Enchantress by Christine Schumaker

Author:Christine Schumaker [Schumaker, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: k'12
Publisher: Christine Schumaker
Published: 2017-11-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

The marble room in which Lord Forn lay was austere, as he grumbled, “I feel as though I have met my mausoleum ahead of schedule.”

His head pounded with every heart beat and his stomach roiled as he tasted the remnants of the bitter poison Serpentine had given him. He suspected his pork supper had been tampered with but he could not be certain since it was a new dish which his stepmother had prepared. All of her courtiers and renegade lords had eaten it, with no dire results. He had been so famished. He ought to have had a royal taster try it first. But of course, that slight to Serpentine would not have been forgivable. As it was, he had offended her taste for humiliation by refusing to dance with the troll maiden.

He smiled when he recalled how he had been able to resist his stepmother’s commands. It had not been easy-it had given him a blinding headache. It satisfied him to know that he had thwarted Serpentine.

He wondered how he had been able to disobey her. He had carried the humiliated troll girl out the great room balcony, it had nearly made him pass out, but he had succeeded.

The young troll had surely weighed two stone more than he did. The girl had run away, but unfortunately not without kissing him first. Her foul breath was likely partly responsible for his current illness.

God’s breath, but he certainly missed the sweet smelling Serese; her kisses, he would not despise. He wondered if the princess had concocted the counter potion which would cure him yet. He certainly hoped so; he longed to exact revenge upon his stepmother.

Lord Forn knew he needed to escape but he was unable to stir. He knew if he did not get out of bed soon, Serpentine would indeed kill him. Her icy eyes had told him as much.

He remembered when she had given him his own stallion and had let him jump, without any proper training. Of course, he had fallen; breaking his leg and Serpentine had destroyed the magnificent horse. He had sat by the dying animal as its wild brown eyes focused on him with trust.

Lord Forn knew he would meet a similar fate. There was no goodness in his stepmother’s heart. Perhaps if she had not been rejected by love all those years ago…

He found his fevered mind drifting to a time when he was still young. He had played in the Calrake castle gardens. He wielded a wooden sword, thrashing at tall bushes, frightening sparrows and squirrels away with his warrior cries.

He recalled his mother, a gracious, brown-eyed elfin princess with pointed ears, who had admonished him not to slash the roses. She had told him they must be treated with respect for their great ancestress was a magical rosebush.

He had asked her what she meant and she had told him, “Once there were two twin princesses in love with the same prince. They had shared everything, until this fine prince split them apart.

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