“So, Cassandra, how have you enjoyed the last few days?”  Rachel asked me.

 

                “Honestly, it’s been wonderful except for having to relearn how to sit in the saddle, and ride my damn horse properly, so I don’t get my lady bits mashed by the saddle.”  I groused.

 

                “I don’t know, Cassandra.”  Morag grinned.  “I rather enjoy a horseback ride now and then.  Stop slouching in the saddle, Cassandra, and sit up a bit – and then make your horse canter.  You’ll see.”

 

                I looked at Morag confused, but I did as she suggested – as did Rachel and Alyssa… and suddenly riding was somewhat more pleasant… and I blushed long and furiously. 

 

                “This is why girls like ponies, isn’t it?”  I said, squirming with the unfamiliar, but pleasant sensations in my nethers.

 

                “I suspect part of it.”  Morag grinned.  “Many ladies enjoy a good ride.”

 

                “Annnd now we’re not talking about ponies anymore…”  I laughed.

 

                There was some laughter from the assembled ladies – Cassandra, Morag, Alyssa, and Rachel - although Tika didn’t seem to quite understand the joke.  Morag’s guards Dunny and Eoghan had accompanied us, as did Eacharn, young Samuel, my manservant, one or two of Morag’s ladies in waiting, and two more guards from the Keep that served in the Battle of Callenden, and who had aided Fionn and I in slaying Prince Michael.

 

                We had been travelling quickly, and without many comforts, sleeping in bedrolls and simple tents, desiring to make the most speed we could in our return to Callenden…  I felt we had been gone too long – or at least longer than I felt comfortable with – and Morag and Rachel agreed… So we gave up the comforts we were entitled to as Kings and Queens of the realms, and travelled swiftly and simply.  In four days we had crossed the distance it had taken our stolen coach seven or eight days to cross – and soon, we would be arriving near the outskirts of Callenden.

 

                I suppose it was time to return to being Geoffrey, I thought to myself.  I thought about it for a moment, and realized I didn’t really have any regrets – the last four days had been quite satisfying, and had filled my need to be other than Geoffrey quite well for a time.  Now, I had work to do.  I smiled.  The last four days had been wonderful – and honestly, were quite fun – but it was time to return to my other self.

 

                I touched the buckle with the symbol of Hathor, and whispered a prayer.  “Hathor, bestow on me your blessing, and let me return to being a man.”  For a moment, I was surrounded by golden light – and then, suddenly, I was Geoffrey again… I felt good – it felt like me – just as being Cassandra had felt like me.  Morag’s gift had lifted a pall from me I hadn’t know I was under, and now I felt at least twice as alive as I had before.  I was ready to do what I must.

 

                It was time to end Queen Hemlock and Clan Glaighmorgan.

 

                “Welcome Back, Milord.”  Prince Eacharn exclaimed.  “Have you had enough of your other self?”

 

                “Aye, for now – and the people of Callenden know me as Geoffrey the Giant Slayer – they’ll need time to meet and get to know Cassandra.  They will get used to me in time – but I will give them that time.  I wonder how Fionn has managed the castle since we’ve been gone?”

 

                “It’s probably been a sweet vacation for him, not having to watch over us.”  Eacharn laughed.  “He’s probably got his feet up, sipping sweet tea, waiting for us to get back.”

 

                “I doubt it, but maybe.  I sort of left the place in a mess.”

 

                “Aye, it was a bit damaged, wasn’t it?”

 

                I smirked, thinking of the wreckage and ruin the battle had left the city – and the palace in – and nodded.  “Aye, a bit.”

 

                Eacharn and I laughed, but it was tinged with a bit of regret – knowing that much of the damage was in ruined homes, and shattered businesses, which would all have to be rebuilt, if the families that owned them still lived.

 

                “How long until we reach the city, Eacharn?”  Alyssa asked.

 

                “Maybe a half hour till we see the city, Alyssa – and then another half hour to arrive at the city.  We’ll be there soon.”

 

                “Aye,” I agreed.  “And none too soon.  We have work to do.”

 

                Everyone nodded, and we picked up the pace a bit.  Callenden waited.

 

 

 

*              *              *

 

               

                How much more still needed to be done, I asked myself.  We’ve cleaned up and begun repairs on the courtyard, and the castle itself, but the repairs will likely takes weeks to fully complete – and the city itself is still quite a mess.  By Hathor’s balks, Geoffrey left you a mess to clean up, didn’t he Fionn?

 

                I sighed, and rubbed some of the stiffness out of my neck.   I’m what?  Fifty two years old?  And I’m Castellan of Callenden, and running the entire Kingdom of Callenden while its lord is away on business.  Not bad, old man.  Maybe it is time to retire to a country estate?  These last few weeks have been rather restful compared to the previous years of battle.

 

                Once the kink in my neck was rubbed out, I took a look at what paperwork was left – the accounting for the Fall Festival, including the costs of the fireworks I’d had shipped in from Port Coventry, as well as the costs for restoring the Cathedral – which took a direct hit from our catapults, and the costs of restoring the castle and courtyard.  Then there were the costs of rebuilding the city – and in a gesture of good faith, I had the castle treasury dispense a large amount of gold and silver to help the people rebuild…  Castiel would probably agree with me, and if not, well he left me in charge, so he can suck it up.

 

                “Ha! Look at me!  The high and mighty Fionn Ballantine telling his King to suck it up.  Not bloody likely.”  He laughed at himself.  The view from his office overlooked Lake Ascorian, and it was rather pretty – with the fishing boats criss-crossing it with their colorful sails, and the sea birds catching fish.  Fionn watched the scene for a few moments, and got back to work.

 

                I wonder when King Castiel is due to return?  The ladies will have likely had their Twin Soul ceremony by now – and Queen Morag will have been crowned.  I wonder if he’ll be ready for the news from the east… My scowl was full and unfeigned…  The reports of brigandry on the eastern borders had grown to tales of full blown insurrection and mayhem.  Obviously Queen Hemlock was riling up the bandits – if the bandits weren’t her men in disguise.

 

                Then, before my brooding could proceed further, a knock came on my door… 

 

                “Lord Castellan, we have word from riders to the west…  King Castiel and his party are returning – lightly escorted and moving quickly.  They will be here within a half hour!”  My aide, Lucian called.

 

                “Thank you, Lucian.  I’d best leave all this for later then, and prepare to meet him.”  I looked over at Lucian, who had proven to be invaluable the last few weeks.  “I’ll take care of it.  You had best alert the kitchens so they can prepare dinner for the King and his party.”

 

                “Aye, Milord.”

 

                Well, I thought.  The lad’s finally returning.  I hope he agrees with my methods of rulership – if not, I may be retired sooner than I think!  I got up and got ready to meet the lad. Hopefully his journey has been full of better news than the last few weeks here.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                As we rode through the city, and past the city gates – which were still being repaired from where Tika, Rachel and our battering rams had crushed them – I could see how hard Sir Fionn had been working…  Everywhere we went, damaged businesses and shops were in the process of being repaired, and the streets were thick with carts of lumber, tar, nails, and other building materials.  Even the cathedral, which had taken a direct hit by one of our catapults, was being repaired. 

 

                Equally pleasing but surprising, were the calls of “Hail King Geoffrey!” and “Welcome back, your Majesty!” that passers by gave our retinue, bowing as we passed.  I mean, it did stoke my ego – but it was also a welcome reminder that the people were happy with my rule, at least so far.

 

                “Don’t let it go to your head, Doofus.”  Rachel reminded me.

 

                “I won’t… And you know, before long they’ll be ‘your majestying’ both you and Morag, so I’ll get to return your words to you.”

 

                Rachel smiled.  “I guess you will.”

 

                “It looks as if things are well under repair.”  Morag noted.  “Lord Fionn is doing a good job.  He must have opened the treasury to help rebuild the city.”

 

                “Good.  The people need help in times like these.”  Eacharn replied.  “Gods know the treasury is well enough off that we can afford it.”

 

                “Oh?”  I asked.  “Is the treasure overflowing, Eacharn?”

 

                “I wouldn’t say overflowing, your Majesty – but it is healthily plump.  Queen Hemlock has been levying taxes against a rainy day – and you are reaping the benefit of that forethought.  My father Michael also liked having a lot of cash on hand – he had expensive tastes, and so the taxes have been rather high for several years – but not to a level I would call devastating.  The people will be very grateful for Lord Fionn’s largesse.”

 

                “Good!  It’s good to see things getting back to normal at least a little bit.” 

 

                By now we had threaded the streets of Callenden, and were passing the Inn of the Spotted Toad – where Tika had found and adopted Kip – or rather where Kip had found and adopted Tika.  I smirked at the thought of the tomcat, and how close he and Tika had grown.

 

                “We’re almost at the castle.”  I said to no one in particular.

 

                “Aye.”  Morag grinned.  “And soon we can get to the business of winning the war we find ourselves in.”

 

                “True.”

 

                “Do you hear something?”  Rachel commented.

 

                We listened, and we heard it too…

 

                “It sounds like Fionn has some new soldiers training.  Good – we’ll need good men and women for the coming fight.”  I replied.  “Let’s not keep my Castellan waiting.”

 

                As we rode into the keep itself, the first thing we noticed was that the courtyard looked much better than when I left it – the bodies of the dead had been removed – I shuddered at the thought of removing Prince Michaels massive body – and much of the damage our battle had caused had been repaired.  One of the towers still needed minor repairs, as did a catwalk along the western wall – but all in all, the repairs looked good. 

 

Four dozen men and women were training in the further part of the courtyard, learning the use of the spear and shield and axe, and others were training with slings and bows, shooting at distant straw targets.  As we entered, one of the pages raised a trumpet to his lips, and blew a peal of music to announce our arrival – and suddenly everything stopped, and as one the assembled men and women bowed. 

 

                “As you were!”  I called, and nodded my thanks – and the training resumed.  “Thank you, young man.”  I said to the page.

 

                “You’re welcome, your Majesty.”

 

                “What’s your name, young man?” 

 

                “Thomas, your Majesty.”  He said nervously.

 

                “Well done, Thomas.  Thank you.”  I replied, trying to calm him.

 

                Thomas nodded, and retreated – perhaps a little uncomfortable with all the attention thrust upon him.

 

                “Castiel!”  A deep voice called out.  “Thank the gods you’re finally back!  I can see your trip to Erevale was successful!  Rachel, Alyssa, its so wonderful to meet the new you!  And, as always, your Majesties, it’s nice to see you too.”  Fionn said to Eacharn and Morag.

 

                “Fionn!  It’s good to see you, you old dog!  How has the castle been while we’re gone?”  I called.

 

                “The castle and the city are doing well – but there is news of the eastern marches that needs to be discussed perhaps after you take some rest.  It can wait if needs be until tomorrow.”

 

                “Aye, so let it be then.  May I present Lady Alyssa Seranel, Baroness of Ender’s Hollow, and my Fiancee’s Rachel and Queen Morag.”

 

                “Fiancee’s?  So its official?”

 

                “Aye.  Word is spreading in Erevale – we should make the announcement here as well.”

 

                “I’ll see that it’s done milord.”  Fionn replied.  “Would you like the stable hands to take your horses, and perhaps follow me?  I have one of the lounges set up with wine and tea cakes to quench your hunger and thirst.  You can all take some rest while I fill you in on the developments since you left for Erevale.”

 

                “That sounds amazing.”  Rachel said, sighing. 

 

                “Aye.”  Alyssa nodded.  “A rest and a nice drink would go well.”

 

                “So be it.”  Lord Fionn replied.  “If you’ll follow me, your Majesties?”

 

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

               

                We had just got settled in the lounge when Fionn had some young pages scurry about, filling glasses of wine for us, and providing us with some pleasant looking tea cakes.  I took a sip of the wine, and nibbled a tea cake – both were excellent, and quite refreshing.  Tika, Alyssa, Morag and Rachel seemed to enjoy them too – although Eacharn seemed to find the tea cakes not to his taste.

 

                “Milord, if you are ready, may I continue?”

 

                “Of course, Fionn.  Carry on.”  I replied.

 

                “Well, as you have seen the repairs to the castle and the city proceed at an acceptable rate – although I did open the treasury to help speed repairs to the city.  I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds, your Majesty.”

 

                “No – I would have done the same.  I assume the kingdom is not as broke as a church mouse?”

 

                “Far from it.  We are doing well, financially – thanks to the years of excessive taxes from Queen Hemlock and Prince Michael’s reign.  We have enough for some time, unless the war with Queen Hemlock drags on for too long.”

 

                I nodded, and Morag and Rachel looked pleased to hear that news as well.

 

                “Anyway, your Majesty, the repairs as I said are doing well – and the army is in excellent shape – although we may need to recall the local barons and lords when we need their might – I suspect many of them are waiting for your call.  Only an idiot would think you don’t mean to press the attack against Queen Hemlock’s forces, so they probably are still battle-ready.”

 

                “Good!  Then put out the call, Lord Fionn.  See that any loyal lords arrive with their forces as soon as is possible.  I suspect we will have great need of them.”

 

                “Aye, milord, because I have some rather bad news…  You may or may not have heard about banditry on the eastern border of our lands…”

 

                “I have.”  Replied Eacharn.  “Grandmother has been talking about it for months – but with hints that it may be according to some plan of hers.”

 

                “Exactly, your Majesty,”  Fionn replied.  “You see I believe that this banditry was caused between Queen Hemlock working in conjunction with her uncle Torag in her homeland of Clan Glaighmorgan.  I think the bandits are actually her uncle’s men, working to destabilize our borders – to create an excuse of ‘unrest’ to justify the excessive taxes – but which now presents us with a fully armed, prepared military force already at the edge of our borders.  We need to act and act quickly, or we may find ourselves besieged by their forces.”

 

                “Aye, I’d much rather meet them in the field, if possible.  You don’t win by playing defence.”  I replied.  “We have to drive them out if necessary.  How long until we can have a cohesive fighting force ready to move, Fionn?”

 

                “A week at best, your Majesty – perhaps two weeks at worst.  If the lords are ready to hear your call, and all arrive post haste, we still have to organize the troops of Callenden with them, and integrate the new units I’ve been having trained over the past few weeks you’ve been at Castle Erevale.”

 

                “How many forces do we command at the moment, Fionn?”

 

                “Not enough to mount an offensive – if the lords do not answer your call, which I personally doubt will happen – we will be forced to play defense.  If they do, then combined with what we have here in Callenden and the surrounding area, we should have a respectable force that has a good chance of beating Glaighmorgan’s forces – barring any wizardry from Queen Hemlock.”

 

                “We’ll deal with Queen Hemlock’s magic.”  Rachel replied, and Tika and Alyssa nodded.  “Morag, do you still have a quiver of those anti-magic arrows that Alyssa whipped up?”

 

                “Aye, I do – a half-dozen of them… but we will not all be going to battle.  One of us must stay here and rule in Callenden whilst the others are gone.  You have too much use on the battlefield, Rachel – you should go with Castiel.  I will stay and make sure nothing goes wrong here, while the two of you are gone.”

 

                “Milady, that would be wise, except that until you and Castiel and Rachel are married, you have no standing here… The local lords will likely not follow your commands, if needed.” 

 

                “Well there is an obvious solution to that issue.”  Morag replied.  “We use the time between now and when the troops arrive to get married.  There – simple.”

 

                I nearly spewed wine out my nose in an epic spit-take.  “Don’t royal weddings take longer to arrange?”

 

                “Not in times of war, Castiel.  If you wish, we could make it a quiet ceremony and have a larger one to celebrate when the battles are over – but pomp and ceremony are often waived in times of strife.”

 

                I looked at Rachel, and she looked at me.  She nodded.

 

                “Okay…  We’ll get that taken care of as soon as possible – Tomorrow or the next day.”

 

                “I thought you would understand.”  Morag replied with a smile.

 

                “I do.”  I replied, with a bit of tongue in cheek humor.

 

                “As do I.”  Rachel added, grinning.

 

                “Then, is there any more to be told, Lord Fionn?”

 

                “Aye, a bit more, your Majesty.”  Fionn paused and sipped some wine to clear his throat.  “The bandits have been causing damage to various small towns and villages in the area, and until Queen Hemlocks flight, no troops had been sent to deal with the situation… I would expect that the people of those villages, if they even know there is a new king on the throne, are not very happy with the crown at the moment.  Messengers from the villages arrived a few days ago, and were rather surprised at the change in management – they call for your aid.”

 

                “Then we shall have to answer them.  Can you arrange a meeting between their messengers and myself for tomorrow, after I’ve rested?”

 

                “Aye, your Majesty.  I can.  With your permission, I will send out the call for troops to the lords of the realm as well, and urge them to make haste.”

 

                “You have it, of course.  Please, give them my thanks for standing down at the battle of Callenden as well – it would do to let them know I am grateful for their surrender.”

 

                “I shall.”  Fionn replied.  “I’ll go begin that now, your Majesty.  There is much to be done.” 

 

Fionn bowed, and left – leaving the rest of us alone for a time.

 

“That was quite an update.”  Rachel began.  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Morag?  We’ll undoubtedly need your political advice when dealing with the lesser clans, and maybe even need your bow against Queen Hemlock.”

 

“I do wish to be with you.”  Morag replied.  “But someone must maintain control of Callenden and by proxy Erevale from here while we are gone.  Who can do that, if not me?”

 

“I can.”  Prince Eacharn chimed in.  “I’m a prince of the Realm, and a friend to Erevale and known to the Erevalish troops.  I’ll do it.  Castiel and Rachel will need your skills, your Majesty.”

 

“I… Thank you, Eacharn.”  Morag replied.

 

“Yes, Thank you.”  I said.  “Can you handle dealing with the logistics of the supply train while running the kingdom?”

 

“Aye, with certainty.  I’ll be busy, but I can do it.” 

 

“Good.”  I replied.  “Then why don’t we all go wash the road dust off, and get some rest before dinner – and we’ll deal with the rest of the matters before us tomorrow.”

 

Everyone nodded, and we went our separate ways.

 

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                That night, after dinner, I took some time alone in my chambers.  With a war coming – or already here in disguise – certain things needed to be done to ensure the safety of the kingdom…  I smirked a bit at the grim humor of it, and signed the document, pressing my royal seal against it, making it a legal document and binding.  “I’ll have to make sure that gets to Alistair before I leave.”  I muttered under my breath.   In the document, I had named Rachel Wilson as heir to the kingdom of Callenden, should I perish, and that it was my wish and hope that in that situation she and Queen Morag of Erevale remain friends.  Honestly, I hoped to never need the scrap of parchment it was written on, but I had to have something.  It was only being responsible.  It also named Morag the heir if Rachel predeceased her – and then Eacharn and his wife to be, Alyssa – and then, should they all be slain, Sir Fionn Ballantine.  Heh, I know he’ll love that one, I laughed to myself. 

 

                Actually, he might kill me, if I wasn’t already dead.  Maybe I’d better leave that part out. 

 

                I looked at the hour glass – it was probably past ten bells…  Time to get to bed.  I blew out the candle, and made my way towards my bed.  Rachel was in her own quarters, as was Queen Morag – local customs were that none of us could lay together until the marriage – and although Morag wanted to rush it, both Rachel and I had some reservations.

 

                A problem for another day, I thought.  Time to sleep.  I slipped into my bed, under the heavy blankets, and soon fell asleep.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

 

                It was only a day later that I first learned a very important lesson: What Morag wants, Morag gets.  Oh, Rachel and I argued – it was too soon, and we wanted the perfect ceremony, and so forth – we fought with our feelings…  But Morag countered every point with cold hard facts, and sheer determination, stabbing each of our reasons to not marry yet in the heart, until our arguments bled out on the castle’s floor.

 

                So we were getting married.  Today.   In two hours.

 

                In the end we agreed for one very important and selfish reason…  Well, two actually.  The first and most important was Morag was right, dammit – and the second was because once a Noble is betrothed (as Rachel and I were to Morag and each other), Ghaelish custom was that we could not be together in private for any reason, until the marriage.  As Rachel so politely put it – “No Nookie.”

 

                I admit, we both caved at the same time – and Morag got what Morag wanted – and in two hours Rachel and I would stand in the chapel in the castle, with Morag, and have a subdued, quiet wedding ceremony.  To be honest, nervous was not the term I would use – if I had to pick, it would be closer to ‘basket case.’

 

                “Are you sure this is suitable attire, Samuel?”  I asked, fretting.

 

                “I assure you, your Majesty, that it is.  I would not dress you for your wedding in anything less than perfect attire.  And I have informed my father and grandfather of your tastes in clothing, and they are busy crafting you a new wardrobe suitable to your tastes, for both genders I might say.”

 

                “Great!” I said, trying to be cheerful, when my stomach just wanted to empty its contents on the floor.

 

                “Stand still, your Majesty… Your fretting is slowing this down considerably.”

 

                “Sorry Samuel.  I’ll try harder.”

 

                “T’is all right my lord.  Every husband to be is nervous on his wedding day if he is wise.  It’s a defense mechanism, or so my father claims.”

 

                “Hah!  I’ll pass that on to Rachel, if you don’t mind, lad.”  I replied, smirking

 

                “As your Majesty wishes.”  Samuel smiled back.

 

                “There… “ he said, steering me towards a full length mirror newly placed in my room…  I noticed it was made of the same purple wood my grandmothers mirror back on Earth was made of. 

 

My reflection was stunning – I was wearing Black leather boots with silver buckles, a kilt in the Callendish tartan, with a silver sporran and my magic belt – equally impressive and shiny – where my Grandmothers’ sword hung at my waist.  Above that I was wearing a white linen shirt, topped by a crimson vest embroidered with gold and silver threads in the form of Callenden’s wolves, and a cloak of fine red wool, embroidered with similar gold and silver threads.  On my hands was the royal signet, and a gold armband was around the bicep of my right arm.  On my brow was the crown of Callenden.  I looked like a prince… no – I looked like a King.  A very nervous King, but still a King.

 

                “How do I look, Samuel?  Kingly?”

 

                “You look Magnificent, your Majesty.  Shall I call in Lord Ballantine?”

 

                “Aye.”  I replied, nervously.

 

                A few moments later, Lord Fionn arrived, and took a look at me.  “You look positively royal, lad.”

 

                “Thanks, Fionn.  Is it weird I feel more scared now than when we fought Prince Michael in the courtyard?”

 

                Fionn snorted, and then smiled.  “Aye lad, or so I hear.  I’ve been to a few weddings, and the groom is always nervous.  Have no fear – Rachel and Morag will be just as nervous as you, or more so.  It will all be fine.”

 

                I nodded.  “Do you have the rings?”

 

                “Aye.”  He said, presenting the rings I would marry Morag and Rachel with…  The rings my Grandfather gave me months ago in Callenden, the day before his death, and the engagement ring my grandmother wore until her death.  One for Morag, and one for Rachel. 

 

                I stared at them for a moment, trying to understand what I was feeling at that moment – other than nerves.  In the end, I simply nodded, and Fionn and I headed to the chapel in the Castle.  It wouldn’t do for the King to be late to his own wedding, now would it?

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

 

                I wondered if Castiel was as nervous as I was, I thought, fretting.  The maids chided me – again – and kept adding more layers of garments to the dress I was to wear to the wedding.  Morag, looking equally nervous, was with me – and around us, what seemed like an army of maids were preparing us for our wedding.

 

                To be honest, I never expected my wedding day to be like this… I’d never expected to be married at all, until I came to Mercia and found hope in their Twin Soul ceremony.  And to be married to Geoffrey – my best friend.  It felt like a dream.

 

                “Copper for your thoughts?”  Morag asked.

 

                “Huh?  Oh, of course.”  I replied.  “Aside from a ridiculous amount of nerves, I guess I’m just amazed that might life turned out like this – and now I get to marry my best and oldest friend.  It feels like a dream come true.  Did you know I’ve been crushing on Geoffrey for years?  I can’t believe it’s all going to happen.  I’m happy, and scared, and my insides are all twisted up with feelings I can’t explain.  How are you feeling, Morag?”

 

                “Much the same…  I grew up knowing that I would be sold off to some noble to cement an alliance for my father, and that if I was lucky the man I married would be close to my age, not repulsive, and relatively kind.  That was literally the best I could hope for, mind you.  Now, I get to marry a man I choose, who I actually have feelings for – and who has them towards me as well, if not yet fully developed.  I’m a queen in my own right, and together you and I will be queens of the most powerful kingdom in all of Ghaelorn – and my Husband to be is both young, strong, and handsome – and my sister wife is very quickly becoming a true friend and confidante.  I never thought this would happen – it’s like a dream – an impossible dream – is coming true right before me.”

 

                “Honestly, Rachel, I’m afraid I’ll wake up, and find it was all a dream – that none of this is real – and that I’ll live the rest of my life lonely, making babies for some mildly repulsive border lord twice my age who barely cares for me.”

 

                “That won’t happen, Morag.”  I said, touching her arm in reassurance.  “And it won’t happen to our daughters, either.  I won’t let it.”

 

                Morag smiled.  “Thank you, Rachel.  Sometimes being a princess is more about duty than anything else.  It’s not the fairytale that many of the commoners believe it is.”

 

                I smiled back, and nodded.  In some ways, Morag had been a prisoner of her birth – her path laid out before her when she was born – and for her to shuck her destiny and forge her own path was just so… so Morag… that I couldn’t be more proud of her.

“I understand.  You’ve done well, Morag, and I’ll be proud to call you my sister-wife.”

 

                “Thank you, Rachel.”

 

                “You’re very welcome, Morag.”  I replied.

 

                The maids continued dressing us – Morag was wearing a white gown, trimmed with cloth of gold and studded with white pearls, while I was wearing a similar white gown, cut in a different style, trimmed with lace and tiny pearls.  Both dresses were elegant and stylish, and emphasized our figures, making Morag and hopefully myself look rather sexy and yet pure at the same time.  Our veils were nearby, decorated with baby rosebuds and white lace – a flower that looked a lot like earthly baby’s breath. 

 

                I was so nervous, I thought I would throw up.

 

                Just as the maids finished dressing us, Alyssa and Tika came in – Tika holding the boxes with the rings we would wed Geoffrey with. 

 

Morag’s ring for Geoffrey was a ring she had found in the Erevalish treasury, and the ring I was to wed Geoffrey with I had selected from the Callendish treasury.  Morag’s ring was a plain gold band, with small runes written on the inside of the band, while the one I had selected was slightly more fancy, with decorations of winged eagles and wolves upon the band, with small rubies for eyes.  Wolves were sacred to Feana and Hathor, and Eagles to Isundal, their father.  I hoped he would like it.

 

                “Look at you two!”  Alyssa gushed.  “You look amazing!  I’m so jealous of you!”

 

                “Hush, Alyssa.”  I said.  “Eacharn will put a ring on you soon enough.”

 

                “Aye.”  She smirked.  “He’d better.”

 

                “You both look beautiful.”  Tika chattered.  “I hope I look as pretty the day I marry.”

 

                Morag rubbed Tika under her chin with a finger.  “I’m sure you will, Lady Tika.”

 

                “We look okay?  You’re sure?”  I asked.

 

                “You both look amazing, and Castiel won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.  I promise.”

 

                Morag smiled, and I did too.

 

                “Now, we must hurry.  We have to be at the chapel before Castiel, and he cannot see you before the altar – Fionn is delaying him, so we have time to get you to the chapel.  Let us go!  Come on, ladies!”

 

                We nodded, and made haste – and my stomach seemed more riled up than before…  I could only think Morag felt close to the same way.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                When Fionn and I got to the Chapel, Alistair the Wise was waiting for us, along with a young priest – Ser Hervin, I think his name was. 

 

                “Are you ready, your Majesty?”  Alistair asked with a wry grin.

 

                “No, but I’m doing it anyway.”  I replied.

 

                “Very wise.  You’ll do fine.”  He chuckled.

 

                “Now sire, your brides to be are waiting for you at the Altar, along with High Priestess Blackburn, from the Cathedral.  When the music starts, simply walk down the aisle in a stately manner until you reach the Altar, and her grace will direct you from there.”  Ser Hervin began.  “She is just about ready.”

 

                I gulped down my nervousness, and tried to calm myself, and Fionn put a hand on my shoulder to steady me. 

 

                “Easy lad.  You’ll be fine.”

 

                “I hope so.”

 

                “I know so.  Eacharn is waiting just inside, and I have the rings.  Relax.”

 

                Suddenly, I realized Ser Hervin was missing – and music from within the Chapel started to play… it was a Mercian tune, full of pomp and ceremony, played to flutes, drums and bagpipes.  It was the oddest, and yet most appropriate wedding march I’d ever heard, and it fit my odd situation perfectly.

 

                “Wish me luck?”  I asked.

 

                “You won’t need it, Sire.”  Fionn replied.

 

                “Good luck, cousin.”  Eacharn followed. 

 

                I took a deep breath, and steeled myself, and walked down the aisle of the chapel towards the Altar, Fionn and Eacharn behind me and to my sides, as my groomsmen.  I could see Rachel and Morag, dressed in white and covered with veils, accompanied by Alyssa and Tika, who looked very dashing and pretty in their gowns as well – which were very obviously NOT white.  The High Priestess Sonja Blackburn was there too, waiting patiently.

 

                Step by step, I walked towards the women who would be my wives, and step by step, the nervousness that I was feeling fell away – replaced by a feeling of anticipation, and love.  I reached the altar, and the music died down and then stopped.

 

                “King Geoffrey Castiel Fowler, do you intend to take these two women, Morag Allison Connor I, and Rachel Wilson, as your wives, through fire and flame, in sickness and in health, until fate or death do tear you apart?”

 

                “I do.”

 

                “And do you, Queen Morag Allison Connor I, and Lady Rachel Wilson intend to take this man, Geoffrey Castiel Fowler as your husband, through fire and flame, in sickness and in health, until fate or death do tear you asunder?”

 

                “I do.”  Rachel replied, smiling.

 

                “As do I.”  Morag followed.

 

                “Then, by the power of Isundal and Askeline, and under the sign of the Great Maker, I ask you to repeat these vows.  You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone.  I give you my body, that we three might be one.  I give you my spirit, ‘til our Life shall be Done.”

 

                Quietly, and with great gravitas and anticipation, we recited the vows.

 

                “You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself, but while we three do wish it, I give you what is mine to give.  You cannot command me, for I am a free person – but I shall serve you both in the ways you require.”

 

                We spoke the words, and I could see both Morag and Rachel tearing up…  And to be honest, I was almost overcome as well.

 

                “Together we join our houses as willing equals, and the honeycomb will taste all the sweeter coming from my hand.  This I doth swear, under the sign of the Great Maker, and under the blessing of Isundal and Askeline, so help me gods.”

 

                The three of us spoke the sacred words – my voice almost caught at the end – and it was done.

 

                “By the powers vested in me by the Father and Mother of us all, I pronounce the three of you Husband and Wives, bound together now and forever more by the gift of a ring.  Ringbearers, if you will?”

 

                Fionn presented the rings, and one by one I placed them on Rachel’s hand, and then Morag’s.

 

                Tika presented the rings from Morag and Rachel, and one by one, Rachel put her ring on my hand, followed by Morag.

 

                As we stood there, before the gods, the priestess said the words.  “Congratulations, your Majesties.  You are now married.  You may kiss the brides!  Or the Groom, as you prefer.”  The priestess chuckled. 

 

                I lifted the veil off of Rachel’s face to see tears of joy, and I took her face in my hands, and kissed her deeply. 

 

                As she gasped for breath when we pulled apart, I smiled and turned to Morag.  She looked nervous, so I gently lifted off her veil and smiled. 

 

                “I guess this is where we kiss, my lady.”

 

                She smirked, and swatted my shoulder.  “Then get on with it, my King.  We’re burning daylight.”

 

                I couldn’t help but chuckle, and kissed her as passionately as I had Rachel – and it was done…

 

                We were married.

 

                Eacharn and Fionn, Alyssa and Tika all cheered, and threw handfuls of rice and other grains I didn’t recognize – obviously Mercian staples I had not yet been introduced to.  We smiled, and I took my ladies arms – and we began to leave the temple to the sound of more wedding music…

 

                And the stringent sound of the castle alarums…

 

                “Fionn?  What is that?”  I asked.

 

                “’Tis the sound of the alarum, my King.  I shall go check.”

 

                “What!?  NOW!?” Morag groused.

 

                “Better than 15 minutes ago.”  Rachel countered, and I couldn’t have agreed more.

 

                A moment passed as Fionn went to the battlements, and returned. 

 

                “Your Majesties… You’re going to want to see this.  Hemlock has made her move.  We will soon be under attack.”

 

                Fionn pointed, and I could see what he meant immediately… For striding over the fields of my citizens were a dozen giants – men and women altered by Queen Hemlock’s magic to grow to the size of Prince Michael, when we fought in the courtyard.  A dozen!  Dear gods!

 

                “Oh my Gods!”  Rachel whispered.  “Cass, is this something we can beat?”

 

                “I don’t know, love.  We have to try.”  I replied, squeezing her and Morag’s hand to reassure them.

 

                “Muster the guards.”  I said.  “Have archers target their faces and shoulders – their hide was thinner there – and have the footmen wield pikes and spears to reach above the creatures legs.  Fionn, with me – we will ride out to face them together.  Eacharn, you are in charge of the city’s guards.  Ladies, if by your bows or by your spells, you think you can aid us, now is the time.  Let us shed our finery and prepare for war.  If war has come to us, we must prevail, and send a message to Queen Hemlock that her dark magic will not avail her.  Prepare for battle.”

 

               

 

 

 

The End

 

 

 

Geoffrey, Rachel, Morag and their friends will return in further adventures!