Chapter 9

The gates to the kingdom opened. People who were on the streets drew back in fright as the huge lions came bounding inside. One guard readied a lance, meaning to kill one of the mighty beasts.

"Halt!" Prince Balor ordered. "They are friends almost as much as this elf is."

"But they are wild animals, your highness," the guard argued.

"They obey the will of my wife," Balor said. He watched as the guard's eyes rested on the beautiful woman who rode in front of him.

Whispers raced through the crowd, mumbles of witchcraft and evilness spread as the townsfolk stared at Luria. One little boy stepped forward and threw a stone at Shria, missing her but by a mere breath. Balor started to get down, but Luria stopped him. She slipped from the back of the black stallion, her knees still a little unsteady from Balor's lovemaking. She knelt in front of the small boy, seeing his mother reach for him before she raised her hand to her. "One moment," she said kindly, smiling up at the frightened woman.

"What's your name?" she asked the young boy.

"Tomaso," he said defiantly. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Good, that's good. You shouldn't be afraid of me, Tomaso. My name is Luria and those lions are my friends. Would you like to touch them?" she offered, smiling up at the small boy's mother. "He will be safe."

"Y-yes," Tomaso said, feeling the eyes of the crowd upon him. He took the pretty lady's hand, walking with her to where Rowan lay at his ease, his eyes watching as she came forward.

"They are gentle with me and will be with you as well. This is Rowan. Rowan, this is Tomaso, he's a friend," she added, sending the thought along with it. Rowan stood, stretching and yawning, showing off in front of the crowd and letting them see his huge teeth. Then he came forward, sinking down on his haunches and offering the young boy his paw, like the most gentle of mutts.

"He wants you to shake with him," she told Tomaso. He stepped forward, taking a hold of the huge paw with a tentative grip and giving it the slightest of shakes.

"Can I touch his mane?" the boy asked, his eyes huge.

"Ask him," Luria told him.

"Rowan, can I touch your mane?" he asked the massive beast.

The crowd laughed when Rowan, being the ham that he was, nodded his big head and laid down before the small boy, a low rumble coming from his throat like the purr of a housecat as Tomaso scratched at his ears. When Rowan had enough, he rose, stretching once more to turn to where Shria was sitting, staring at him with her inscrutable stare. Tomaso ran off into the crowd, the other children following him. Luria grinned as she heard his excited chatter and the other children's ahs.

Balor walked up to her, pushing a stray strand of silky hair away from her face. "I think you've just won them over, my love," he said, leaning down to kiss her lips to set his mark upon her. "Now they'll know you're mine and I won't be fighting back an army of angry swains who want your hand."

She laughed at him and took his hand, letting him lead her further into the village. Rowan and Shria followed as well as the stallion that Luria had named Tristan. It became like a parade, as others who had already heard the rumors came running to see the huge lions and the new princess. Her name was bandied from lip to lip, some speculating if she were a demon, other's who knew the prophesy praying that she was the one who would save them from Magnus's evil.

It took a while to wind through the streets of what was more a big city then the tiny village that Luria had come from. By the time they reached the palace, news of their arrival had preceded them. The palace doors stood open in invitation and a fanfare could be heard playing at their arrival.

Luria looked around, startled by the noise and by the sudden rush of people that surrounded them. The lions, being sensitive to her feelings, roared loudly, startling the crowd and sending them running for cover. All that is but for the slightly portly man who clasped Balor into his arms.

"Son," he said, slapping the younger man upon his back. "You've brought back the Descendant. I knew you could do it."

"She's not just the Descendant," Balor said, returning the hug. "She's my wife, father, Princess Luria."

"Your wife?" The question came from a tall stately beauty that had eyes as green as emeralds and hair that was as black as night, that was curled into a blatantly attractive style. She was gowned in silk with matching emeralds at her ears and throat. "Prince Balor, you cannot be married."

Balor stared at the beauty, a nagging suspicion in his mind. "Do I know you?" he said slowly.

Luria's eyes grew wide. She slowly looked over the dark-haired beauty and instantly recognized her as competition.

"It's been quite a few years, Balor," she said softly, moving toward him with the grace of a feline. "The last time we were together, you pushed me into the fountain in the garden at my father's palace."

"Isobel!" Balor stepped forward, giving her a quick hug. "It has been years. What are you doing here now?"

"He doesn't know?" Isobel asked King Martane.

"No, he does not."

"I am to be your wife," she said simply.

Balor stared at the beautiful brunette in consternation. He was brought around by Rowan's mighty roar, his hand reaching out to Luria. "I'm already married, Isobel. I won't put Luria aside, not for any woman. I love her." Luria came to his side, her eyes flashing her anger.

"When were you married?"

"What does that matter?" Luria asked, not bothering to keep her irritation out of her voice.

"Balor and I were married by proxy a year ago," Isobel said. "He is my husband, not yours." She pushed between the two, her hand landing possessively upon Balor's arm.

Shock had Luria moving back and allowing Isobel to take her place. She watched as the woman caressed Balor's arm as if she owned it, her actions stirring every jealous emotion she had.

"Balor?" Luria called uncertainly.

Balor shrugged Isobel's hand off of his arm and went to Luria, taking her in his arms. "You are my wife, the one that I love. I took vows with you. I won't cast you aside." He kissed her tenderly.

"But what of your vows to me?" Isobel asked, not willing to be forgotten so easily.

"I spoke no vows to you," Balor said. "Isobel, I have no wish to hurt you, but vows spoken for me mean little when they were done without my knowledge or permission. I married Luria, I spoke the sacred vows and we have consummated the wedding."

"Endlessly," Graeme said from behind him, making Luria giggle. "Have you given your father the news that we rode so furiously here to impart?"

"No, I've had no chance." Balor looked up, noting that the day was beginning to wane, last light would be within a couple of hours and they had to hurry. "Father, we have information that Magnus is coming here. He plans on attacking the city until we give him Luria back."

"So give her to him," Isobel said, her hands going to her breast, an exclamation of fear upon her lips. "I've heard what his armies do, the raping and the pillaging, plundering and bringing any of royal birth to Magnus for his pleasures. I do not wish the maidenhead that I saved for you to go to him. Return this person and stand by your vows to me, Balor."

"We need to get every man and woman who can fight ready," Luria said, her eyes narrowing angrily at Isobel. She stepped back from Balor's arms, her sword ringing clean of its scabbard. "I've killed my share of the black guard when they attacked the elves. I'll stand at my husband's side tonight and fight there if necessary. My lions are battle ready as is my horse." She lifted her arm not holding the sword and gave a piercing whistle. When the falcon landed upon her bare arm, his talons not leaving a mark on her fragile skin, Isobel took a step back in fear.

"She's a witch," she hissed, making the sign for protection in front of her. "She's unnatural."

"She's the Descendant," Balor growled, "and my wife; watch what you say of her."

Isobel took one last look at him and then shuddered as she turned, racing back to the palace with a sob that could have been heard into the city. She wailed and King Martane shrugged his huge shoulders. "The contract was made when you were a boy, I'd thought her father had forgotten what I thought was foolishness at the time. I didn't recognize her when she came with a royal guard, sent by her father. I don't think he could handle her anymore so he was hoping to foist her off to us."

Balor chuckled. "Father, this is my wife, Luria." He drew her close, helping her rise from the graceful curtsey she performed in front of her father-in-law. "Luria, my father, King Martane."

Martane stepped forward and used two fingers to raise her face to his. "I'd met your real mother once, so long ago now. But I'll never forget her beauty or the courage that shone out of her eyes. You have that same look, daughter." He kissed her cheek as he welcomed her to the family, careful of the huge bird that still rested upon her arm.

"Thank you, Sire," Luria said gracefully. She spoke a few words into the feathers that covered the bird's head and then lifted her arm, sending him off. "He will warn us when Magnus's castle becomes visible."

"Is it safe?" a soft feminine voice asked and a woman stepped out onto the steps. Balor took her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "Which were you more fearful of, Mother, the lions or the shrew?"

Queen Nathalie gently smacked her son's arm. "You shouldn't talk such ways, Balor. You'll give Luria the wrong impression of us."

He took his mother's arm and slid her hand onto his, leading her to where Martane and Luria stood in conversation.

"Luria, this is my mother, Queen Nathalie, Mother, my wife, Princess Luria."

Nathalie stepped forward, her eyes meeting and scrutinizing Luria. Then she smiled, as if she liked what she saw. "You'll make a good wife for my son," she said with a nod. "Welcome to the family."

"Thank you, Majesty," Luria said softly, bending to press her cheek next to Nathalie's.

"Now, none of that Majesty stuff," his mother said. "I'm Nathalie and he's Martane. I hope you'll allow me to call you Luria, it's a beautiful name and it suits you well."

Luria nodded and a tear came to her eye. Meeting Balor's mother made her remember her own, not the real mother that had given her up but the one that had raised her, only to be killed by Magnus's thugs.

"What is it?" Balor asked her quietly, coming up to wrap his arm around her.

"My mother," Luria said, looking up into his gentle eyes. "I wish she could have met you."

He pulled her closer. "I wish the same." He held her for a moment. "I need to speak to my father and the guard. I thought perhaps you could go with my mother and get cleaned up and maybe have something to eat."

"You're not trying to keep me out of this battle, are you?"

"I know better, trust me. Besides, Rowan and Shria will come in handy." He bent his head, finding her lips with his and kissing her. Their lips brushed, clung, parted only to return as if neither could handle ending this one kiss. Finally, Balor turned away, his hand on her cheek as she turned to go with his mother into the castle proper.

"She won't get away with this!" Isobel screamed at her maid, the long suffering woman ducking the brush that had been violently thrown her way as well.

"Oh course she won't, Highness. Your father won't let her."

"No, to hell with that. I won't let her. Balor's mine. He's been mine since our fathers signed the contracts all those years ago. I won't let some witch take him away from me." She sank down on the small stool in front of a dressing table, holding her hand out for the brush that her maid now held. Slowly she sank the bristles into the long, thick tresses of her hair, blowing out her anger as she pulled the brush through.