Queen Maisy Rises

By Robert Collins

Maisy is now the Witch Queen of Hatham, and faces many challenges. One of her advisors seeks power for himself. A Prince is coming from a distant kingdom to seek an alliance, and possibly marriage. There are reports of one of the Fairy Folk enticing a village girl from her brother.

Maisy must use her wits, her magic, and her compassion to face these challenges. Though she had claimed her birthright, she must work to remain THE WITCH QUEEN.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Collins
• Release date: Oct 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463849781

Robert Collins

Two people with different cultural backgrounds and ethnicities met at a European and Balkan music and dance ensemble named Koroyar and their lives became intertwined, combining their gifts to continue exploring life as an avenue of creative expression. Robert Collins has a Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology, and has been an educator in the Los Angeles area for thirty years. He studied writing with Joan Oppenheimer in San Diego, with Cork Millner privately, and also in the Santa Barbara Writer's Conferences. Elizabeth Herrera Sabido, at the age of sixteen years, began working as a secretary at the Secretaria de Industria y Comercio in Mexico City where she was born, then she was an educator for twenty-six years, and a teacher of international dance for The Los Angeles Unified School District. She has also studied Traditional Chinese Medicine, and is a Reiki Master Teacher. Attracted by the Unknown, the Forces of the Universe, and the human psyche, during their lives they have studied several different philosophies. Elizabeth has been involved with various religions, Asian studies, and Gnosticism with SamaelAun Weor, and Robert has explored spiritual healing practices in Mexico, and studied with Carlos Castaneda's Cleargreen and Tensegrity. Elizabeth and Robert start their day at four-thirty in the morning. They enjoy playing volleyball and tennis, and in the afternoons play music, alternating between seven different instruments each. Their philosophy of Personal Evolution has led them to explore over 110 countries between the two of them such as Japan, Nepal, Egypt, Bosnia- Herzegovina, the Philippines, Turkey,Russia, etc.

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QUEEN MAISY RISES

The Witch Queen, Book 2

by

Robert Collins

Ebook Edition

Copyright © 2019 by Robert Collins

License Notes, eBook edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

They are ready for you, Your Majesty.

Maisy gulped in a breath. The form of address, the title Queen, and everything else were still new enough to her that it could alarm her. Pausing even for an instant to think about it would freeze her into a block of ice.

It all seems too much to bear, she mused once again.

It was now a month and a few days since her uncle, King Albert, had died. The illness that ended his life had came on suddenly. Maisy tried to use her magic to save him, but it only served to prolong his death. Not that anyone in Hatham Castle blamed her for that. They understood that, though she’d been working as a Witch for a few years, she didn’t know all that her magic could do.

They were also aware, as she was, that King Albert was already a weakened man. His brother, Maisy’s father, had been killed by a rival king. For years King Albert wondered if Maisy’s mother had ran off with that rival king. Albert had never prepared to become King of Hatham, and strain on him had been great. He also suffered the loss of his wife and children. A darkness came over the man that never really went away. That darkness aged him beyond his actual years, making him less well than he ought to have been.

Maisy tried to fight back against that darkness when she was at last able to come to Hatham and claim her rightful title as Princess. She assured her uncle that her mother had not ran off but was kidnapped. She told him how her mother had conspired with the Fairy Queen to hide Maisy from the evil intentions of King William of Sufflack. She proved to him time and again that her upbringing as a common village girl made her kind. She gave him all the love and kindness she could, despite barely knowing the man who was her real uncle. It had granted him a little more time, but not enough. Years of darkness couldn’t be swept away in one single year. She’d tried the best she could, but just like magic, there was only so much compassion could do.

So it was that King Albert died. There was a day of mourning, then the funeral. Because his death came early in the spring, very few of the Dukes of Hatham attended. A week after the King’s death Maisy was proclaimed Queen of Hatham. As the weather had improved, more and more of the Dukes came to the castle to pay homage to their new ruler.

And perhaps look over the Witch Queen as well.

Maisy was well aware that, if it hadn’t been for the peculiar circumstances of her ancestry, she probably wouldn’t be Queen. Her father’s ancestor was the King who first married a Fairy Princess, and thus the parents of the first Witch. Her mother was the sister of a Witch. After generations of separation the bloodlines came together in Maisy. She was to be the Princess who could be a Witch.

It was the reason why King William had abducted her mother while pregnant with her. It was why, when she was old enough, the Fairy Queen sought her out, and gave her a book on magic for Maisy to study. It was why King Albert welcomed her, who appeared to be a common village girl, into his relieved arms.

Without magic, Maisy would now be under a great deal of pressure to get married so Hatham could have a King. Instead she’d spent her year and some months demonstrating her ability with magic, along with her wits. Everyone still wanted her to marry, but they knew she was going to be the Witch Queen. She wouldn’t need a husband to make a proper King; she was certain to rule Hatham on her own. The imperative was more to continue the Royal bloodline than to find a strong King for Hatham.

That is a consideration for another day, Maisy reminded herself. Right now I must be the new Queen. I take it Duke Harris is waiting, she asked her maidservant.

Most patiently, Your Majesty, Karen replied.

I suppose keeping him waiting any longer would be rude.

Your title does have its privileges, Your Majesty, but it also has obligations.

Maisy smiled to Karen. Thank you for the reminder.

Karen smiled back. Not that you would forget.

No.

Maisy pushed the smile away and nodded. Karen stepped in front of her and began to pull aside the curtain.

It was another of the privileges of her title that Maisy didn’t have to enter the Royal Reception Hall through the same door as everyone else, if she didn’t want to. There was a passageway that led from the Royal bedchambers directly to the room. The entrance to the room was hidden by tapestries behind the throne. It was supposed to be a more impressive and important way for members of the Royal Family to enter the room to greet guests. Maisy always thought it pretentious, but she had to admit that, since becoming Queen, it had its uses.

Impressing all these Dukes that I belong here, for one.

Once she passed through the gap between the tapestries, she made her way to the throne. She paused before sitting down to curtsey to all those in the room bowing to her. She knew she didn’t need to do that; her uncle rarely bowed to his guests. But he’d been King for a long time when she arrived in Hatham Castle. She had been Queen less than a month, and thus felt that acting too self-important might not go over well.

Once she was seated she called out, Who comes before the throne this day?

One of her advisors replied. Duke Harris of Vorrey, Your Majesty, to pay homage and to ask your assistance.

Step forward, then, My Lord, and be heard.

In truth the Duke was only half a dozen strides from the platform that the throne sat on. But once again, due to the newness of her situation, Maisy felt that protocol ought to be followed. That was especially true for a Duke she hadn’t yet met in person.

After coming to the castle, her uncle allowed her to help him rule Hatham. Maisy took that chance to get involved in a few matters. She’d discovered one Duke guilty of having his nephew and niece killed. The boy was the son of the man who actually inherited the title, and said Duke had engaged in the scheme to take the title for himself. Another matter had been the reconciliation of a Duke and Duchess, driven apart by a jealous friend of the Duke. Two other Dukes came to the castle on other business, and Maisy had the chance to meet them.

That still left several Dukes in Hatham unknown to Maisy except for their names. She had hopes that her ascension to the throne will bring them here. She felt pleased that one had come. She was given assurances by her advisors that the others would come as well, now that winter was almost gone.

As for the man who’d come on that day, Duke Harris of Vorrey seemed a rather ordinary sort of fellow. He had dark hair and brown eyes. He was average in height and weight, and seemed to be a decade or so older than her. He wore a silver ring on his right ring finger and no other jewelry. His shirt was light blue, his breeches black, his boots shined, and his cloak seemed new. The only thing that made him appear to be a Duke, and not some wealthy merchant, was the embroidered symbol of the dukedom on his shirt, a stag in front of a tree.

Duke Harris took a few steps towards Maisy and bowed. May God grant you success in your reign, Your Majesty.

Maisy bowed her head. Thank you for your kindness, Duke Harris.

Might I ask how you are doing, Your Majesty?

I am well, My Lord. I believe the sadness is fading as winter finally turns to spring. How are matters in the dukedom of Vorrey?

The spring planting has begun, Your Majesty, as has the first timber harvest.

Good.

You are not angry that I missed the funeral, Your Majesty?

Of course not. Not everyone could make it to Hatham then. Indeed, the day after the funeral, it snowed here.

Deep, Your Majesty?

Halfway up your boots, I think.

Duke Harris smiled slightly. I see, Your Majesty. I am pleased that you’re not upset at my inability to pay homage until now, as I have a matter to bring before you.

Here, or in private?

Here, Your Majesty.

Then tell me what concerns you.

Duke Harris sighed. Your Majesty, I must ask first, how well do you know the Fairy Queen?

We are not close friends, My Lord. We remain on good terms. Why do you ask?

Has the Fairy Queen some dislike for me, Your Majesty, or for Vorrey?

Certainly not. Why would you ask such a thing?

Your Majesty, I must report that a Fairy man has been seen in my dukedom around some of our villages.

Maisy glanced at her advisors before continuing. And how do you know, I mean, how do your subjects know, that they’ve seen a Fairy man?

He has done nothing to disguise himself, Your Majesty. Folk have seen his ears, and at least one hunter claims to have seen him change form.

Maisy shifted on the throne. Since first meeting the Fairy Queen a few years before, she had kept in contact with Fairy Queen. The Fairy Queen was willing to tell her more about her people. It had been in one of those meetings that she learned that the Fairy Folk tended to stay away from mortal men and women as much as they could. Sometimes their passions took them towards mortals, and sometimes matters of magic brought them in contact with mortals. But there always had to be a reason for such contacts, the Fairy Queen told her then and afterward.

There must be a reason for these sightings, if they’re true. Has anyone thought to ask this Fairy man his business, My Lord?

Duke Harris shook his head. No, Your Majesty. The common folk fear him.

Fear him? Why?

The usual reason, Your Majesty. They fear he will carry away their daughters for their amusement.

Maisy frowned. Since learning of her true past, she’d began to understand that what was told in ballads and tales, and what was the truth, could be at odds with each other. Her first winter in Hatham made her aware of one such ballad that seemed not just to disagree with the truth, but seemed to have been written to undermine the truth. Even her own actions after leaving her village, and later coming to Hatham, appeared to be changing to suit the fancies of common bards.

This included what was told about the Fairy Folk. While some tales and ballads were possibly true, or close to the truth, others were completely invented from the minds of bards with no bearing on reality. Among those were the songs of mortal women being seduced by Fairy men.

This might be a good time to correct some of these wild tales. My Lord, I can assure you that few common tales of such seductions are true. The Fairy Queen has told me more than once that Fairy men pay little heed to mortal women. One might have a momentary affection, but I’m told it’s like when we look at something beautiful, like a rainbow in the sky once the rain ends and the clouds go away. It’s nice to look at, but we’re hardly going to pursue it.

And you have this on good authority, Your Majesty?

The best, My Lord. Indeed, the Fairy Queen said once that it’s more true that a young woman will attempt to explain her pregnancy by saying she was seduced by a Fairy man, rather than admit that she gave in to her own momentary feelings for a mortal man and was disappointed.

Yet we have our own tale of a Fairy man, Your Majesty.

Which tale are you referring to?

The tale of Ellen of Midford.

His answer sparked Maisy’s memory. She recalled the tale told in Vorrey, as it was one she recounted to the Fairy Queen once. Ellen, a young woman in the village of Midford, went out one Holy Day to work, rather than go to church or rest. While she was away from home a Fairy man abducted her. Her younger brother freed her, telling all who would listen that he did so by fighting an enchanted bear, an enchanted stag, an enchanted wolf, and then the Fairy man who made off with his sister. The boy claimed it was only his faith in God that he triumphed over each foe, even killing the Fairy man. Even still, the Priest in the village had to bless Ellen every day for a week to free her of the enchantment the Fairy man had cast upon her.

Tell me, My Lord, did you ever meet this young woman?

Ellen of Midford? No, Your Majesty. It happened before my time.

What of the Priest who cured her?

Before my time, Your Majesty.

But surely you met someone who knew him, or knew when he was alive in Midford?

No, Your Majesty.

What of the younger brother who killed all those magical beasts, and killed an immortal Fairy man? He must have grown up to have children. Do they live, or his grandchildren, or their children?

No, Your Majesty. It’s a tale long told.

And I tell you, My Lord, Fairy men have little interest in mortal women.

Then there is nothing you will do about this?

Maisy shook her head. I didn’t say that, My Lord. Have you tried seeking out this Fairy man? Or called on the Fairy Queen?

Duke Harris shook ever so slightly. No, Your Majesty.

Perhaps you should. A Fairy man would not be seen unless he wished to be seen. That he wishes to be seen in Vorrey suggests to me that he is looking for something, or someone.

Something or someone, Your Majesty?

Magic, perhaps. A magical object, for instance. While there are ballads about Fairy men and mortal women, there are also ballads of mortal men and Fairy women, and the magical weapons and artifacts Fairy women steal or create for their mortal lovers.

And are those tales rarely true, Your Majesty?

Indeed so, My Lord. But things can become lost, as well as stolen. I would suggest that you keep aware of reports of common folk doing strange deeds, or using magic.

Duke Harris bowed his head. Of course, Your Majesty.

Furthermore, I shall attempt to speak to the Fairy Queen on your behalf, since the matter seems to worry you.

You would do that, Your Majesty? Could you?

I can try, My Lord. As I said, we are on good terms. Perhaps there is something amiss in Vorrey that only magic can discover. I will try to speak to her and ask what’s going on. If I get an answer, I will tell you as quickly as I can.

He bowed his head. You are most kind, Your Majesty.

I do what I must for those I rule, My Lord. I thank you for coming to me with your concern, Duke Harris.

He bowed deeply. Thank you for your time, Your Majesty.

Don’t start for Vorrey right away. Maisy turned to Karen, as she had no one else to command on the matter. See to it that I have time to speak with His Lordship in private.

Karen bowed her head. Of course, Your Majesty.

Maisy turned back to the Duke. Before you go, I wish to hear the details of these sightings, My Lord. Where, what time of day, that sort of thing.

I will do my best to recall those details, Your Majesty, he replied.

Good. I’ll have someone come for you when it’s time for us to talk again.

Thank you, Your Majesty. Duke Harris bowed to her, to her advisors, then turned and left the room. Maisy guessed he would return to his room at the inn in Hatham Town to wait for her.

Was he the only visitor to come to the castle this day? Maisy asked her advisors.

No, Your Majesty, a second man answered. Captain Mitchell of Bolway has come with tidings from Duke Lawrence.

Summon the Captain to come before us.

The advisor called for the Captain. One of her soldiers by the door echoed the call, as did another outside the room. A moment later another man strode into the hall and bowed before his Queen.

This man was not at all like Duke Harris. He was a tall man with fair hair. The chainmail vest over his shirt, and the sheathed sword at his hip, marked him as a soldier. The silver rose pendant he wore around his neck marked him as a Captain in the service of the Duke of Bolway. The Captain had a sharp face and at least one old scar that Maisy saw on the back of his left hand.

Your Majesty, the Captain said in a drawled accent, His Lordship Duke Lawrence sends his respects. He asks your pardon that he could not be here himself to pay homage.

Has he a reason why he could not come, Captain?

Maisy didn’t want to sound offended. Bolway was one of the southern-most dukedoms in Hatham. It sat along the Sharp Hills of Entirock, which was a haven for all manner of rough characters. Of all the Dukes who answered to the Crown in Hatham, the Duke of Bolway was often too busy to come there when called. There always seemed to be some trouble on the border that the Duke had to cope with in one way or the other.

But she also didn’t want to sound too forgiving of the Duke. His message of respect once word went out of her uncle’s death was tardy in coming to the castle. She wasn’t certain, from what reports and rumors came from Bolway to Hatham, that she would like Duke Lawrence, as a man or as a member of the nobility. He sounded pompous and quick-tempered. She therefore wanted to make certain the Captain couldn’t honestly report a pleasant reception from the Queen once he returned home.

Yes, Your Majesty, the Captain answered. The trouble His Lordship has with Lilldale has increased significantly.

Maisy let out a breath. Lilldale was one of the outlaw dukedoms along and in the Sharp Hills of Entirock. When she was growing up, she’d never known there was such a thing as an outlaw dukedom. In fact it was only when she arrived at Hatham Castle that she learned of them.

The dukedoms south of the kingdom of Hatham were independent, like Brough, where Maisy had grown up. However, those southern domains didn’t just survive by farming and herding livestock. They also made some of their coins by riding into the lands of their neighbors to steal cattle, coins, and such. Sometimes they sold what they stole, but usually they kept their booty for themselves. As a result their outlaw ways attracted rough men, making the region less than safe for travel.

What has happened now, Captain?

Your Majesty, His Lordship had one Fergus of Kilamon arrested recently.

On what charge?

Theft, of course, Your Majesty.

Of course. Go on.

A few days later, Your Majesty, three men, believed to be under the outlaw Duke Stewart broke into the jail and freed Fergus.

Broke into jail and freed the man, Captain?

Just so, Your Majesty.

Maisy paused to think about what the Captain had told her. Most jails were in the cellars of castles or manors. There were few windows in these cellars, and even if there was a window or two, iron bars set into the walls made escaping through them difficult. There was usually only stairway leading to and from the jail cells. Soldiers would be posted to guard the cells and the door leading to the stairway.

There’s only two methods for escaping, she thought. Magic or bribery. Were any of Duke Lawrence’s soldiers hurt during this escape?

Not so much as a cut, Your Majesty.

Were these men caught?

No, Your Majesty, but they were sighted as they were fleeing. Soldiers were roused and pursuit given.

Were they captured?

I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. The four were able to make a difficult crossing of the River Lannaway.

A difficult crossing, Captain?

That’s so, Your Majesty. It’s a place known as Death’s Crossing. Men who try to ride the path from one bank to the other often fail to cross, and drown in the river.

I see. Well, Captain, while this is most troubling news, I don’t see why Duke Lawrence couldn’t tell me this himself.

It’s because of what His Lordship fears, Your Majesty.

And what does he fear?

That the outlaw Duke has a rogue Witch.

Maisy let out an unhappy breath. Captain, rogue Witches are almost unheard of.

Your Majesty?

Captain, why do you think all Witches serve Kings and Dukes?

Privilege of title, Your Majesty?

No, Captain. Protection. A Witch without protection is vulnerable to the whims of any strong man who holds her.

The Captain appeared genuinely puzzled, for he then asked, What of magic, Your Majesty?

A Witch can’t cast healing spells on herself, Captain.

The Captain nodded once but said nothing.

A Witch needs the protection afforded by a man with a title, Maisy continued. It’s not just the soldiers, either. There is protection in the coins paid serving her noble patron. Security in having a place to live, food to eat, and clothes to wear. A rogue Witch would not only be vulnerable to abuse, but to going hungry, or dying of cold.

Then this outlaw Duke is protecting a Witch, Your Majesty.

I doubt that, Captain. We are known to each other. I, more than any other Witch around, would be aware if a Witch was in the employment of this outlaw Duke. I’ve had almost a year and a half of openly being a Witch to know who else has the talents I do. I assure you, Captain, that none of us has disappeared into the Sharp Hills.

The Captain bowed his head. As you say, Your Majesty.

As I do say. However, an escape from jail cannot be ignored. I take it you have a room in town?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Then you may return to your room, Captain. I will discus this matter with my advisors, and determine what help I might give to His Lordship.

The Captain bowed deeply. Thank you, Your Majesty.

But of course. You may go, and await our decision.

The Captain bowed once more then left the hall.

Again Maisy turned to her advisors. Are there any other guests who have business before me?

Yes, Your Majesty, the first advisor said. The Ambassador from the Kingdom of Domatia wishes to pay his respects, and make a request.

Bring him in.

The man called for the Ambassador. The Captain stepped out of the hall, through the doorway, and appeared to wave. A brief moment later the Ambassador entered the hall.

Master Orlando of Domatia was a decade or so older than Maisy. He was a tall man with dark hair and a trimmed beard. He wore a cape rather than a cloak, which Maisy had learned was the style among the nobility of Domatia and their region. His cape only went down to his waist, unlike most cloaks that almost reached the top of a man’s boots. On this day his cape matched his leggings, which were a dark shade of blue. His shirt was a subdued shade of yellow.

He bowed deeply when he stopped before Maisy. Your Majesty.

Master Orlando, she replied with a nod.

First, Your Majesty, allow me to express my sorrow for your loss. His accent was unusual to her ears, as he sometimes emphasized certain vowels over others. It did sound better than the harsh accent she’d heard among men from the Midmark Lands, but not as musical as the Farrengir accent.

Thank you, Ambassador. Your letter was most kind.

I appreciate your saying so, Your Majesty. Your tongue and words do not always come easily to me.

Your command of our words is improving, Ambassador.

Again, thank you, Your Majesty.

I take it you did not come here this day to express what you had already written, yes?

Yes, Your Majesty. The previous day a letter came to me from His Majesty, King Rufino. His Majesty first wishes to convey his sorrow at the loss of your uncle.

Tell His Majesty that I thank him for his condolences as well as yours.

As you wish, Your Majesty. His Majesty further asks me if you would do him the honor of allowing his younger son, Prince Tomaso, to visit you, when the weather is improved for travel.

Improved more, your mean?

Oh, yes, Your Majesty. Improved more.

For what purpose would this visit be?

Good will, Your Majesty.

Good will, Ambassador? It seems a long way to travel just for good will.

Maisy had spoken to the Ambassador several times since he’d arrived from Domatia. One of the subjects the Ambassador had brought up was the fact that King Rufino’s younger son was close to her own age. He also mentioned to her that the Prince had not yet been promised to any noble young woman. The custom there was much as she was familiar with around Hatham: marriages between noble sons and daughters were sometimes arranged to build or strengthen ties between kingdoms or dukedoms. That she already knew this custom, that the Prince was not promised to any noble woman, and that he’d be coming all the way from Domatia to visit her, suggested that this was not some minor social call on the part of King Rufino.

His Majesty wishes better ties between his kingdom and yours, Your Majesty, Master Orlando said. I am told His Highness shall come with a formal offer to achieve that goal.

What sort of offer?

An agreement, I believe, Your Majesty. I shall know more when I see him.

You’ll wait until he arrives here to ask?

The Ambassador smiled. No, Your Majesty. His Majesty tells me that His Highness will make visits to our friends elsewhere. I am to meet him at one of these stops, and escort him first to your kingdom, then to this castle.

I see. When do you depart?

I do not know, Your Majesty. I will get instructions from His Majesty later. Two to three weeks, I believe.

Very well, Ambassador. You may convey to His Majesty that I shall extend as warm a welcome to His Highness as I can. I will listen to his offer and consider it carefully.

That is all we hope for, Your Majesty.

Have you anything else to say?

Not at this time, Your Majesty.

Then, once again, thank you, and thank His Majesty, for your expressions of sympathy to myself and to Hatham. Good day, Ambassador.

The Ambassador bowed. And a good day to you, Your Majesty. He followed the Captain out of the hall.

Have we any other business to attend to here?