The Court of the Four Queens: Real World, #8

By Eden Elsworth

As the four courts set out from England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland, for the summit conference on the Isle of Man, one member from each county will have their life changed completely.

With dark clouds gathering over the head of one queen, will the others be able to get to the truth and save an innocent man from death?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eden Elsworth
• Release date: Jun 8, 2017
• ISBN: 9781393607632

Book preview

Chapter one

Unfurling the large flag and laying it on the floor to attach it to the long wooden pole she had been given, Tamsin Somerset looked at it dubiously. The weight of the flag and the pole wouldn’t be all that much together, but holding it up for several days? That wasn’t going to be so easy, especially if it got windy, which was a distinct possibility so early in the year. How was she meant to carry it all the way to Liverpool?

But she had wanted this, so she had to do it, no matter how hard it might be; no matter how hard it was to leave her siblings to their own devices for a while. Logic told her they wouldn’t be able to get into any serious difficulties without her around, but her maternal instincts told her logic had absolutely nothing to do with it and they could probably get themselves into a whole heap of shit with very little effort, especially Toby.

It was almost six years since her parents had died, leaving her in sole charge of two younger sisters and an even younger brother; but the oldest of her siblings – Tamara – was perfectly able to take charge of the younger two while Tamsin joined the Cwena’s entourage for the upcoming Court of the Four Queens, not that they needed watching much anymore. The youngest, their brother was now legally an adult, as he had turned twenty just under two months ago, although often he still acted like a toddler. It wasn’t easy to let go and let them make their own lives after so many years, particularly with Toby. His oldest sister wondered if he would ever reach an age when his inner three year old would stop coming out.

She hadn’t expected to win the draw that was opened up to all the faeras – even though her classification as one was perhaps tenuous – to become standard bearer, but she had. Now she had to face the prospect of leaving the area she had lived in all her life. She wasn’t allowing that to worry her too much when she had wanted to get out into the world and see what there was out there for a long time, although she didn’t know many of those she would be travelling with, and that give her some cause for concern when she wasn’t the most self-confident person in the world.

Ever since the Cwena had been able to make contact with the Banríon, Queen of the Glas Oileán, as the Irish leprechauns called their home, the idea of the Court of the Four Queens had seemed to dominate every conversation around the court. Being chosen to be part of the group who would be travelling to the Isle of Man for the summit of the Queens that ruled the British Isles meant Tamsin had been made to learn more about all the different fae groups that now ruled the queendoms of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland.

Apparently, they always met up on the neutral territory of the little island in the Irish Sea, and the last time they had done so was over a century ago, so this was something of a historic event, especially now the British Isles were ruled entirely by the fae Queens. In the power vacuum caused by the Madness, it had been inevitable that an ancient and stable system would fill the gap. In England, the faeras had simply stepped up when no one else was left to run things, and no one had opposed them since, so they stayed in power. Tamsin didn’t really care who was in charge as long as her sisters and brother were safe, and she guessed most people felt the same; as long as they had safety, a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, they were content to leave things as they were for the time being. And faeras had the ruthlessness that had been needed in the wake of the old world disintegrating.

Looking at the intricately embroidered flag on the floor, Tamsin studied the design and wondered how long it had taken to make. The large piece of cloth was split into quarters, each one a different colour: top right was blue for Scotland with a heraldic unicorn; bottom right was red for England with a griffin; bottom left was gold with the dragon of Wales; top left had a stag on green for Ireland. The positioning, so she had been told, represented roughly the geographical positioning of the four countries.

A knock on the door announced the arrival of Chloe, one of the few adults left from Tamsin’s old life. Chloe was married to Martin Reavey, whose uncle Tamsin’s father had worked for before everything went wrong. The Reavey family lived together in a house not far from the court. Jack Wesley, the uncle, was now not as robust as he was when she was little, but he was heading for eighty years of age. Like everyone who knew him, Tamsin adored him and looked on the old man as family.

How’s it going? Chloe asked gently as she went to sit on the edge of Tamsin’s bed and looked around at the clothes that were scattered over it. Tamsin had been debating over what to take for hours, wondering whether she would have the opportunity to wear anything fancy or if functional was the only option. In the end, she had gone for lightweight trousers for travelling, knowing they would dry quickly if it rained, a couple of t-shirts, a thick jumper in case it got cold – which it probably would – a weather-proof coat with a removable liner, and one little black dress tucked in the deepest recess of her bag.

Okay. Tamsin gave a slightly nervous smile. "I was given the flag this morning. It’s heavier than I was expecting. I don’t mean it’s actually heavy, but I’ve got to carry it a long way. I just hope my arms hold up."

Chloe gave a slight smile, looking concerned. "Are you really sure you want to go? It’s a long trip and you don’t know many of the faeras going."

I need a break from this place, Tamsin told her quietly. And Charles Kemp said I have to go.

Frowning, Chloe said, Really? Why would he do that? The halfbreed seer often pushed people in a certain direction, although he rarely explained why, feeling it wasn’t his place to do more than encourage someone to be in the right place for their fate to play out the way he foresaw it. Over the last few years, people had fallen into the habit of allowing him to nudge them on the right path without argument.

Tamsin shrugged her muscular shoulders. Like her parents, she took her physical fitness very seriously. Blowed if I know. I do want to go though.

What about the kids?

Sitting back on her heels, Tamsin looked at the older woman. "Clo, they’re hardly kids. I’m twenty seven; Tammy is twenty five; Tanni is twenty three; and Toby is twenty. They don’t need me watching over their every move and they haven’t done for a long time. Have you actually seen Toby training lately? He’s perfectly capable of beating anyone who’s stupid enough to challenge him." Tamsin knew her younger brother, now quite a few inches over six feet tall, like their father, would be more than capable of dealing with any problem that needed any force. He would defend the honour of his sisters if it was required, which was highly unlikely in the faera court. Tamara had the level-headedness to compensate for Toby’s hot-headed nature, and Tanisha had the peace-making skills to smooth out any disputes.

Unlike many with families, Tamsin had never wanted to find a home of her own for herself and her siblings; she preferred to live within the safety of the court, although she rarely mixed with those outside her old social circle. There was security in being within the main court building, and it meant she always had someone to hand to ask for advice if she needed it. A faera, even if they didn’t know her, would try to give sensible advice if it was asked for, something she had found constantly reassuring over the last few years.

Sighing, Chloe conceded the point, but she couldn’t help seeing them as youngsters still. The parentless family being adults meant it wouldn’t be too many years before her eldest daughter was legally adult, and that thought was scary beyond belief, though Helen had all the strength of a lukos.

Tamsin had taken on the role of parent, and she had done a bloody good job of it, but it still wasn’t easy to see her as a grown-up, even now. Perhaps it was her lack of confidence that made her seem so much younger than she was. If this trip could give her more trust in herself and her own abilities, it was definitely worth her going, even if she did seem too young for it.

Have you had all your weapons checked by the armourer? was all Chloe asked.

Yes. Clo, stop worrying! I’m a big girl now. Tamsin gave an ironic smile. Taller by several inches than Chloe, she had also inherited her father’s height, standing five feet eleven inches tall; and all the battle training everyone got, along with her own need to exercise, had given her the same strong physique her mother had worked hard to maintain. With dark skin, striking strong features completed with large dark eyes, and the full set of armour that Chloe’s husband had helped to make for her and all her siblings, she intimidated many, especially men. Not faeras, but all the other men in and around Cadenbourne.

Although she had mentioned it to no one, that was part of the reason Tamsin wanted to get away so much. She was twenty seven years old and still a virgin, because no man had yet been brave enough to approach her. Tamsin wasn’t looking for love or anything permanent, just a bit of experience, and she clearly wasn’t going to get it by staying at home. Was it so wrong to want that? Nobody could expect her to remain a virgin forever. Toby probably wouldn’t see it that way, but Tamsin knew he had already slept with a few of the single women around court, so he had no right to say a word.

A few times, Tamsin had wondered if the reason no male faera made any advances towards her was because they had a cultural preference for very pale skin. They could never be accused of racism, except when it came to elves, but they just didn’t seem to see her as a woman. There was no point trying to change their minds about that when it was something hardwired into their brains. Their objection wasn’t aimed at her because she was black, but at anyone with even a hint of a tan. When they recognised someone, however, those cultural ideas could be forgotten completely. But as no faera had ever come to her to tell her he had recognised her, she had to assume going further afield was her only option.

Tamsin felt that the old idea of racism had gone, and it wasn’t skin colour that caused divisions. Now it was species. The picsa that no one particularly liked had investigated inside her and her siblings heads a year or so back and found out they were partially Yumboe through their father. Yumboes, apparently, were a kind of fae from the Senegal region. That had been enough for them all to be accepted as hereditary cousins of the faeras and therefore on their side of the seemingly insurmountable wall between fae and elves. The Somersets were legally classified as faera and that was why she had been allowed to enter the draw to join the Cwena’s company. Tamsin had asked why humans weren’t allowed to enter, but no one really seemed to know. After hundreds, possibly thousands, of years, it had to be a bit weird for faeras to suddenly have humans wanting to be a part of their world.

Getting up off the floor, Tamsin sat beside Chloe and asked quietly, Don’t you ever wish you could get away for a while?

Never, the other woman responded with utter certainty. But everything I need or want is right here. I do understand though, Sin. Sometimes you just have to take a big step, even if you don’t know what direction it’s going in. I did it once, and it was the best thing I ever did. She smiled warmly.

When you came to look for Uncle Jack, Tamsin stated. She knew about Chloe’s past, well some of it. There was bound to be a lot she didn’t know. Like all the children – not that there were many left – of Jack Wesley’s former employees, Tamsin could remember when Chloe had appeared on the scene, back when the world had been so easy, and the most important thing in her life had been her mobile phone.

Yes.

"I need to do this, Clo. The others will be fine without me. I trust them not to do anything too stupid, and they’ve got you and everyone else around if they need any real help."

I guess, Chloe agreed reluctantly. She raised her hand and eased back one of the Senegalese twists Tamsin had put her hair in the day before to keep it under control while she was away. It had taken Tamara hours to do it, but it was worth the effort when Tamsin would have a minimum effort routine with it for weeks. Tamsin’s hair reached almost to her waist when she pulled it out straight, but in its natural state it was like a huge black cloud around her head. Both her sisters kept their hair short for convenience, and Toby had gone with dreadlocks over the last couple of years, but Tamsin liked to lavish her free time on her hair, knowing longer suited her better. It was her only concession to vanity.

I should get this done, Tamsin commented, indicating towards the flag and pole on the floor. I still haven’t found something red to wear. She could have just worn her leather breastplate, because that was a deep red, but she needed something brighter while they were on the road so she would be instantly visible.

Each of the four Queen’s retinues would be wearing their country’s colour to make them easier to identify at the meeting. Everyone going with the Cwena had to wear the red that would identify them as English.

It was meant to be a huge honour to be chosen to carry the Cwena’s banner, but Tamsin had only entered the draw to have the chance to travel a bit. All of those in the party had official positions, so the opportunities to go along were very limited. At least, in such a large group, she wouldn’t be worrying about whether she was safe or not. The country might seem settled, but there was the ever present vampire threat that the last few years had brought. The small sea battles that kept them out of the British Isles, as far as they knew, happened every few weeks; there was always the chance some had made it ashore. Tamsin had seen what had happened to the Cwena’s own sister, and had no intention of going that way herself.

Travelling alone wasn’t an option for anyone, so this was her best chance to leave the court.

*  * *

Opening the wooden box her brother had brought up from the strong room, Callie lifted out the gold Fēower Cwena crown inside. Although she had been the Queen for several years, she had never worn it, or any crown, except for during her coronation. The one scarred and tattooed on her arm was enough. She didn’t even know if this one fitted her properly.

Holding it with a dubious expression as she studied the simple circlet decorated with polished red agates, she hesitated over putting it on her head, but she didn’t want to turn up at such an important meeting with a crown that didn’t fit when her counterparts would undoubtedly have crowns that they could wear with confidence.

Just put the bloody thing on, idiot, she told herself crossly and placed it on the top of her head. It was a tiny bit small, but at least it wouldn’t fall down around her ears. That would be utterly humiliating, especially as she was the youngest of the Four Queens.

Very fetching, her husband said a bit sarcastically, their two daughters following on his heels; Gylden and Seolfor. Gylden, or Gillie as her family called her, was probably going to be Cwena one day, if she wanted to be, and this trip was the start of her more serious training to hold that position. But, just in case she didn’t want it, her younger sister would get just the same training. Seolfor was called Elf by her family. It was partly because Callie was so fond of her elf-born sister-by-bond, but there was a large dose of irony in it when, faeras and elves hated each other and had for countless centuries.

Snatching the crown off her head and dropping it on the bed as if it had stung her, Callie scowled. I was just checking it fits!

Kellan crossed the room quickly and put his arms around her, his expression apologetic. "I was just messing around. Don’t bite my head off, lawerce."

Sorry. I guess I’m a bit stressed about all this. Callie waved her hand at the discarded crown on the bed, indicating everything it represented. To take her mind off it, she knelt and her daughters rushed into her open arms, holding onto her tightly. Normally her preparations to leave meant they wouldn’t be seeing her for weeks. They hadn’t quite grasped that they would be going with their parents this time. It was their first trip beyond the confines of the court, other than occasional trips into Cadenbourne itself.

"I know, dēorling. It’s exciting for everyone else, but it’s hard to get excited about what’s coming," Kellan responded quietly. He was dreading the meeting even more than his wife, though for rather different reasons. For all he was Chief Warrior, he still felt the sting of being from the lowest caste in faeran society, and he didn’t know how that would impact the way he would be treated by his Scottish, Irish and Welsh counterparts. There was also the fact it would be the first meeting of the Four Queens for about one hundred years, so the etiquette was a bit vague. Some of the rituals involved were written down in the faeran archives, but not all.

On top of those concerns, there was the added stress of taking their daughters with them. He had been told that each Queen always took her heirs, as a sign of trust. It was supposed to foster good relations for the future, by making them playmates as children, although the Queen of Ireland’s children were all adults, as were the Queen of Scotland’s. And Kellan couldn’t help worrying about the actual journey and if there would be any dangers his daughters had to face. But at least everyone going with them would fight to the death to protect the two young girls. No one in the group was more or less important than the others, except his wife, although she wouldn’t agree, but children represented the future and had to be guarded even more closely.

If the girls were a bit older, he would be more certain of their ability to protect themselves if there was a need for it, but they couldn’t be classed as warriors yet and were only permitted to carry small seax daggers; they had a few years to go before they would be given a real sword for the first time. Once a fae child reached the age of about eleven they had enough training and strength to be considered competent with weapons, even if they weren’t classed as adults until they reached twenty. With more years training added to their natural talent, Gylden and Seolfor would be as formidable as their mother, but for now they had to be coddled and cared for by the adults around them.

Chapter two

Cuán Ardal Fiachna Staga, eldest son of the Banríon na hÉireann, looked over the men he would be leading and swallowed a little nervously. Even though he had grown up at the centre of this society and was well used to the way leipreachán warriors dressed, they still looked scary. But far scarier was the fact he was meant to be in charge of their route. At twenty eight, he was a proven warrior, although not the best in the country. He doubted he would ever be able to match his father’s skill, or his ruthlessness. The Ceannaire Laoch, or Chief Warrior, had fought his way through the Madness like a possessed demon, leaving a mountain of slain humans in his wake. Cuán had fought too, as had every other warrior, but he had been shitting himself the entire time, something he had only admitted to one person. He doubted his father had ever been scared in his life. It occurred to Cuán that he wouldn’t actually want to know if his father, Cairbre, had ever felt fear; it would tarnish his view of the man he worshiped as a legend-worthy warrior. His father wasn’t an easy man to love, but it was impossible not to admire him, and Cuán wanted nothing to dent his admiration.

Withdrawing behind the walls of their hall, the cúirte had survived more or less intact through the Madness, although there had been so many casualties, far more than Cuán could comprehend, even now. Everyone had lost relatives and friends, but those left simply had to get on with the business of living, pushing down their horror and grief in order to function more or less normally. There was no time for wailing and chest-beating when the people left looked to the fae to provide them with the necessities of life. In the years since, those people had learned had to also provide for themselves, but they still expected the rule of law to come from the court.

Like both his parents, Cuán had typical looks for a fae: dark brown hair, a muscular body, and darker reflective eyes with the copper flecks of all his kind. Six feet two inches tall, well trained, covered in tattoos and surprisingly humble considering his position, Cuán was a popular man at the Irish court, his humility and good manners making it easy for those lower down the social scale to like him. His expression of openness, which, added to his even, masculine features made him the focus of attention wherever he went.

Pulling himself up straighter on his horse, Cuán looked to his stern mother sat on a massive beast and towering over everyone else in the group. Few leipreacháns could match her in height – she was nearly six and half feet tall – not