The Love of the Wielder (The Wielders Book Two)

It was very lucky they had become so closely involved with the military because otherwise, they would have been spending six days on horseback to get to the mountains. But the military could fill a speeder just with batteries and another speeder with a power generator, so they could recharge them overnight. It would only take two days to reach the mountains.

There was yet another speeder with spare parts for the vehicles in case anything broke, and then another two speeders with tents and various gear. Plus, in addition to the one Maren and Donovan rode in, they had three more just with soldiers.

Donovan had told the Duke he did not think it was necessary and, much to his surprise, he agreed.

“It’s absolutely excessive! Twelve men just to ride along? Rather absurd. But it isn’t about what’s needed. All The Wielder Queen’s men want to go. They consider it an honor. My advice is to let them.”

Donovan nodded and felt that it was the least he could do for the men who were willing to die to save Maren.

The drive was both boring and tiring. The roads were in deplorable condition, so they seemed to hit some horrible pothole or bump or something every few minutes. He and Maren both needed to rest, but it was difficult to sleep with all the jostling around.

It also did Maren no favors regarding her ever-increasing morning sickness, and they had to stop more than once for her to be sick. Everyone was very sympathetic and reported that it happens to more than one man when making that particular trip.

“I just want everyone to know that had I made it to the throne, we would’ve fixed this road,” Donovan announced at one stop. Two of the speeders had flat tires that needed to be repaired. He was also told that was normal.

“Gods above, I have never been looking forward to getting on a horse as much as I am after this,” Maren said when she got back in the speeder after that stop.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. We’ll be at the overnight point in a few hours.”

“Not to worry, Captain, I know you aren’t to blame,” she said.

Both Donovan and Maren were uncomfortable with being addressed as “Your Majesty” but they had discussed, very quietly, of course, that it wasn’t about them. It was about the men. They needed to call them their king and queen, so they would let them.

When they arrived at the campsite, Maren laid down on the ground immediately.

“I recognize this is very inappropriate for a queen, but I am so happy to not be moving,” she said.

“On the positive side, you don’t have to worry about behaving like a queen after tomorrow,” he told her.

The next day, they would make it to Clifton and camp there overnight. But after that, they would set off on their own. Donovan had considered leaving straight away, but he thought that was unwise considering how little sleep he and Maren had had recently. He wanted them both to be clear-headed before taking the horses into the mountains.

Donovan sat beside Maren on the grass. He had offered to help the men set up camp but was told that they appreciated the offer, but his majesty should take his ease. Likely they suspected that Donovan didn’t know the first thing about setting up a camp, which was true.

“Are they all swearing oaths, do you think?” Maren asked him quietly.

“I do,” Donovan said. “They used that as the criteria for being included in the little band. I told them it wasn’t necessary, but they insisted. They decided that anyone who wasn’t ready to kneel before me was not allowed to come get you. It certainly wasn’t my notion.”

“Gods above, they would call me The Queen of Oaths if I wasn’t already The Wielder Queen,” she said.

“You can be both,” he reasoned. “After all, I’m sure there will be more names eventually.”

“The Witch Queen, most certainly,” she said. “I know you don’t like it, but I do. It makes me sound fearsome.”

He chuckled. “You are fearsome. You didn’t see you in the atrium. You were spectacular.”

She really had been. He knew he would never forget the sight of her, hair unkempt, bleeding from the neck, in a stained nightdress and no shoes, but glowing with rage and power. She was magnificent.

She did not respond.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I’m not ready,” she said, confirming what he thought.

“I’ll be here when you are,” he said.

Captain Beven came over to them.

“Camp is set up, Your Majesties,” he said. “Your tent is the largest one, of course.

“Thank you, Captain,” Donovan said.

“Ah… Your Majesty, Queen Maren, I mean, if you’re well enough, would you start our fire for us? We can, of course, but…”

Maren smiled. “Captain, it would be my pleasure.”

Donovan helped Maren to her feet, and they went over to where the men had assembled a large pile of wood for a fire.

Maren drew an orb of Light to her hand and then let it fall into the wood, which promptly burst into flame.

Much to Maren’s embarrassment, everyone clapped and cheered.

They ate dinner – some sort of very comforting stew cooked over the fire – and then the men began to tell Maren their stories.

Captain Beven went first.

“Melody lived in the townhouse next to mine. We were friends from the age of six. When she turned thirteen, she was too afraid to tell her parents, but she told me. She was so scared, but I held her hand and told her everything would be alright. She was my best friend, and eventually, I realized I loved her, and I was lucky enough that she loved me too.”

Donovan exchanged a smile with Maren at that.

“Melody was gifted at needlework. I used to say that I couldn’t sit beside her for too long, or she’d start stitching flowers on my shirt.”

Everyone laughed at that.

“Melody tried to never use her powers, but they always came out a little if she was in pain. She was nineteen when they got her. She was sitting in the park, embroidering something, when someone’s dog got loose. The dog bit Melody and her hand glowed. Just a bit and it didn’t do anything, but plenty of people saw. They had her in chains so fast… I got to see her at the trial…she was so scared, and I couldn’t do anything for her. They hanged her, of course.

“That day, I vowed in Melody’s memory that I would always help a Wielder if I could. And I’m deeply grateful that I’ve had the chance to help you, Your Majesty.”

Maren nodded graciously beside him. “And I remain eternally grateful for your help. Thank you for telling me about Melody,” she said.

Then the Captain came and knelt before Maren. She offered her hand and he took it.

“Queen Maren, by the gods and my sacred honor, I, Alastair Beven, being of sound mind, give you this oath of my own free will: That I pledge to you my fealty and my loyalty. That I will guard your life and the lives of your family with my own. That I will keep your secrets and follow your orders from today until my last breath. This is my oath, and I ask that the gods strike me down where I stand should I break it.”

“I accept your oath, Alastair Beven,” Maren said, very solemnly.

The men all clapped respectfully, and then another soldier stood to tell the story of his Wielder. Her name was Catherine, and she had a beautiful singing voice, and they hanged her when she was twenty-one. And when he was done, the soldier came forward to give his oath.

They continued that way for a long time. They heard about aunts and cousins and sisters and lovers and even friends and acquaintances and family members of generations long since passed. They heard all their names. Some men told long stories. Some just gave her name and said they loved her. Maren thanked each one, no matter how much or how little they said. Then they all swore the same oath to Maren.

More than one man, including Donovan, shed tears as the men talked. Every story ended the same. The ones that told no story had the same ending too.

All except one.

The last man rose. He was a bit older than most of the others, maybe ten years older than Donovan.

“My name is Carter Pence, and my daughter, Heather, turned thirteen a year ago. It happened in front of me and my wife, so she didn’t have to tell us, but she was so scared. She tried to run away from home. Found her a few days later, hiding in the woods. But it’s been a difficult year. I’m still scared. I’m terrified she’ll end up hanged. Before you, Your Majesty, I was sure she’d be hanged. But now I have hope, I have hope that she might live to see a kingdom where she can be free. I can’t wait to go home and tell her about The Wielder Queen.”

Donovan did not think there was a single dry eye around the fire. He knew they were all picturing that terrified young woman and hoping she would be alright, and knowing that there was a good chance her story would end in the same way as the others.

When he had finished his oath, Maren told him, “I want you to ride with us tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything I can to help Heather.”

He looked surprised but thanked her and said he’d speak to Captain Beven.

Maren then spoke. “I am so honored to hear the stories of your Wielders and receive your oaths. You have already done me and the King such a tremendous service that we could never repay you. And yet, tonight, you gave us more. I cannot say if we will ever be able to return and retake our thrones, but knowing the twenty-four of you will come to our call, will make it that much more likely. Regardless of what history makes of me, know that what you have done will forever change the kingdom.”

The men cheered. Donovan had to smile, he had not told Maren what he had said to them in the courtyard of the fort before going to save her, and yet she said something very similar.

“There is very little I can do to repay you. But since you have all told your stories as much as you are able, I feel it is only fair that I tell you mine. If you’re interested, that is, but I assume most of you are wondering how it was that I became The Wielder Queen.”

More cheers and Maren blushed. Donovan knew she was not used to this kind of attention, but she was handling it beautifully.

“Before I begin, I will say that ‘boos’ are encouraged when Prince Kieran is mentioned in the story.”

Everyone laughed.

“And, I want to assure you that the other prince isn’t very nice in the beginning, but he becomes the hero in the end.”

She looked at him and smiled. She was so beautiful in the firelight.

She told the story perfectly; it was almost like a fairy tale. Donovan wondered if the men would tell it to their children at bedtime.

She talked about her life after she turned thirteen and meeting Karlyn all the way up to the Selection. Donovan had to explain a bit about that and then talked about Maren saving his life.

“I, of course, had no idea what was going on, but when he stopped breathing, I figured I only had one option. I knew it was a risk to use my powers, but I figured it was probably equally risky to be found with a dead prince. So I healed him. Or rather —“ she turned to Donovan “— I don’t think I ever told you this, I shouted at him that if I got executed for saving him I’d haunt him for all eternity, and then I saved him.

Everyone laughed at that. She hadn’t ever told him that, and he found it very amusing.

Then Donovan picked up the story again, “So, I woke up on the floor of the dining room with no memory of what happened and Maren was beside me about to fall asleep from exhaustion. She stumbled off to bed and I had no idea whatsoever what happened. The next morning, I invited her —“

“Forced her,” Maren corrected him to much laughter.

“Alright, I did hold her breakfast hostage, but as you’ll recall we were barely speaking then. But when Maren arrived at breakfast, I tried to get her to tell me what had happened. Eventually, she told me without telling me that she’d done it with her powers. I cannot tell you how shocked I was. Probably, each of you also had a similar moment of realizing that what you thought you knew about Wielders was wrong. That was mine.”

He smiled at her. He was so grateful for that night, and not just because she saved him.

Maren continued, “After that we formed a sort of alliance and then became friends and eventually became…more than friends. I suppose the rest is history.”

“But you skipped when you got married!” one of them called.

“You know,” Maren said, “it’s been less than a week, so it slipped my mind. But there’s not much to tell. We had a small ceremony away from Court. Had Kieran not intervened, I expect it would’ve been the biggest gossip of the decade.”

Maren looked at Donovan. He knew she was tired. He was too. He nodded and they both rose.

“Gentlemen, I thank you for an exceptional evening, but I absolutely have to go to sleep now,” she said.

There were some groans of disappointment, but also some nods of understanding from some of the older men.

Donovan thanked the men, and then he and Maren retired to their tent.

—

Maren had never been so excited to see a cot. She actually wasn’t sure she had ever seen one outside a photograph before, but she was so tired, it looked like the most luxurious bed in the world.

The soldiers had set up two cots with blankets for them and put the bags with their few belongings there too. They had a lantern and a bucket of water for washing. All in all, it was the best accommodation she had had since Worthingham.

She didn’t bother with the lantern, instead she left an orb of Light hovering at the top of the tent. It was easier.

They put the cots close together, but couldn’t be as close to each other as they wanted to be. They contented themselves with facing each other and holding hands over the edges of the cots. Maren realized it was the first time they were truly alone together in days.

“You told the story really well. They loved it,” Donovan said.

She smiled. “I really didn’t feel like telling it, but I knew I needed to after the third or fourth man spoke. But I’m glad I did. It was nice.”

He chuckled, “Did you really threaten to haunt me?”

She laughed. “Yes, I did.”

They fell silent for a while before Donovan asked, “Do you think you’ll be able to help Heather?”

Maren knew that she would not remember all the men’s stories, but she thought it likely that everyone would remember Heather.

“I hope. I’m not certain how much I can teach someone without powers about teaching someone to control powers, but something will help her more than nothing,” she said.

She had known she was lucky to have found a teacher, but she had not known how lucky until hearing the stories from the men. None of their Wielders had a teacher, and they all died for it.

She thought about the execution she’d attended when she said she’d have been blasting everything in sight trying to escape. From what she heard, none of the other Wielders would’ve known how to do anything of the kind.

She sighed and put the thought aside. It was too depressing.

“Maren, I need to ask you something and I swear to you that whatever the answer is I can live with, but not knowing is killing me,” Donovan said.

Maren thought that sounded distinctly ominous, but she also thought she knew what he wanted to ask about.

“All right,” she said.

“And I promise it is the only question I’ll ever ask you about what happened,” he said.

“All right,” she said again. She definitely knew what it was about.

She considered stopping him. She really didn’t want to think about any part of her time with Kieran, but she also did not want to leave Donovan without knowing.

“Did he touch you?” he asked.

She knew what he meant.

“He did not,” she said.

A silence fell between them. She knew neither of them knew what to say. She thought about elaborating on what had happened, but didn’t have the energy.

Instead of speaking, he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. That was better than talking.

—

They left early the next morning. Sergeant Phillips, Heather’s father, rode in the speeder with Donovan and Maren while Captain Beven drove.

Donovan knew Captain Beven did not have to drive, but he thought it likely that he wanted to continue his role as chief liaison to the King and Queen. Donovan also thought a good number of the men were a bit afraid of him and Maren.

He sometimes forgot that “regular people” were not used to being in such close proximity to nobility, much less royalty, and were likely to be unsure how to behave. The only “regular people” he interacted with were servants and other staff who were accustomed to that sort of thing.

He realized, as he watched the countryside rush past the windows of the speeder, that he was about to be a “regular person.” He wasn’t particularly bothered by that—there were a great many other things to be bothered by—and he thought it might be interesting. But he also thought it likely he was woefully unprepared for that sort of life. He would need to ask Maren if she knew how to cook. He had absolutely no idea.

She was busy at the moment though, talking to Phillips about the Light.

“I know it sounds a bit mad, but I think—and after hearing everyone’s stories last night, I am more sure of this—pretending not to have powers won’t help at all. She’s got to learn how to control them, and she can’t do that if she’s just pretending not to have them,” she explained.

Philips looked mystified. Donovan thought it likely that he had not expected Maren to actually speak to him about wielding. Donovan was glad of it though and loved to hear her speak so freely about her powers.

He had learned a lot about her powers over the last year, but it was cobbled together from bits and pieces of conversation. It was very different from hearing her give a sort of lecture on them.

“One of the very few things any of the pamphlets gets correct is that the Light is within us, it’s part of us. So, the very first thing Heather has to do is find that part of herself and sort of… I’m not sure what the right word is. Donovan? I think it might be similar for you.”

He thought for a moment. It really was difficult to explain the sort of interaction you had to have with your power. He understood now that his power to control the Darkness was within him, even though the Darkness wasn't. He thought perhaps it wasn't as easy for him to connect with his power as it was for Maren, since hers seemed to be one and the same with the force she controlled, but the principle was the same.

Finally, something came to him.

“You have to make friends with it,” he said.

He was gratified to see Maren nodding vigorously.

“I know that sounds rather odd,” she said, “but that is what it is. She should sit in a quiet place, a safe place, and close her eyes and look within herself. She’ll find the Light easily enough, it…wants to be seen, and then she needs to spend some time just being with it. She’ll understand what that means when she tries.”

Phillips nodded, and Donovan could tell he was trying to commit everything to memory.

Maren talked to him almost the entire day. She told him about some of the various exercises she’d done with Karlyn, and spent a lot of time talking about the importance of meditation. However, Donovan thought the most important things she told him were not about using her powers at all.

“She likely feels as though there’s something deeply wrong with her. I grew up in a house that rarely talked about ‘witches’ but I still knew all the stories and how terrible they were. So, I say this because no matter how you raised her—and I’m sure you’ve done a lovely job of it—but no matter what, she still knows all these things. She has to unlearn them, just as you or anyone else here has done,” Maren explained.

Donovan thought maybe he had something useful to add there, so he looked at Maren for permission—it was her lesson, after all—and she gestured for him to speak.

“It will be harder for her to accept that there’s nothing wrong with her than it will be for you, or your wife, or anyone else. To me, it felt more or less like flicking a switch. I mean, the reality is it was a realization over a few months, but still, it was fairly simple. Perhaps it’s the same for all the men, I don’t know. But it will be much more difficult for Heather. It will take years, even decades, for her not to just think there’s nothing wrong with her but to truly believe it.”

Maren looked at him with a small smile and nodded. He had hoped not to lay bare too many of her inner struggles, but he did think it was important for Philips to understand how very different it was for people who were not Wielders. Even he hadn’t truly understood it until he had to convince Maren he really wanted to marry her.

It was late afternoon when Maren finally declared she could think of nothing else to tell Phillips to help Heather. They were only an hour or two from Clifton, where they would part from the soldiers in the morning.

Donovan found he had mixed feelings about the end of their trip with the soldiers, or as they had styled themselves, The Witch’s Guard.

Donovan had no idea how it had happened, but everyone knew about the brand and Maren’s insistence on keeping it. The men had wanted to take up some name for themselves, and “The Witch’s Guard” was suggested as a tribute to her for that decision. Captain Beven had been very delicate about asking her permission to call themselves that, knowing that “witch” was at least off-color if not outright offensive, but Maren had loved it.

“I expect they’ll all get tattoos to match you now,” Donovan said dryly. He loved the moniker less than she did.

“If they do, I hope it’s somewhere less conspicuous,” she replied.

He did wish that if she had to keep the mark that it was somewhere less conspicuous too. Really, he wished she had let the Wielders fix it at Blackstone but knew that was a battle he could not win. He recognized that his issue was more to do with how she had been branded with the term than her decision to keep it, so he held his tongue on the matter.

He hated to see the bandage on her chest, though. All he could think about was how much it must’ve hurt and who had done it to her.

He tried not to picture what had happened to Maren while she was in Kieran’s clutches, but he was finding that very difficult. He was glad to have heard that he did not sexually abuse her—he knew that would have been very hard for both of them to bear—but he knew his brother had done a great deal of damage.

Maren had tried to hide her back from him, but he had seen the bruises and the welts. He knew she was still very sore because she was still taking the pain medication Alec had sent them with, and he saw how delicately she moved. And, as much as he hated seeing the physical injuries on her, he thought the injuries he couldn’t see were far worse.

He wished he knew how to help with those, but he really didn’t. For the time being, all he could do was respect her desire not to discuss it, and she did seem fine for the most part. It wasn’t as though there was time to discuss it anyway. Perhaps when they were in the mountains.