The Witch Princess: The Queen of Candelor Series, #5

By JoEllen Conger

When the runaway Iberian princess Lena Maria reaches adulthood, she will become the most powerful witch in all the land. As a ten-year-old bride, she uses her magic to fight off her unwavering Far Northlander bridegroom, who is satanically determined to steal her magical powers for himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613093597

Book preview

The Witch Princess

ATick-Tock In Time

The waiting grew tedious.

Gallagher and Boyd spent time walking together, swapping horse stories.

Members of the Laugnach Faoladh went off to visit their local wild wolf cousins.

Princess Lena's created virtual playmates haunted the unnamed castle in search of her.

High King Anthony twere ready for war, but didn't know whom to engage.

High Queen Bodicca had yet to forgive herself for her impulsive dash to the outer garden without a proper escort.

The four royal babies grew, totally unaware of the missing princess.

Faunta took up lamenting her missing mistress by howling with the wolves, and learning her formal guard dog training.

Dowager Queen Gwyndalin returned the king's messenger’s stallion back to Candelore, and commiserated with Faunta.

Queen Moraine spent much time gazing into her magical mirror following Lena's progress.

Sherman, Princess Lena's Royal Guardian, daily pestered the Dark Riders for more information. But no one had seen or heard anything further about the ugly man, or the Far Northlander, Prince Ivor.

Measured by the tick-tock of time, the one thing they all had in common was the painstaking waiting for word from Princess Lena, who had been kidnapped by the Ugly Man.

The Witch Princess

Queen of Candelore Series #5

JoEllen Conger

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Historical Fantasy

Edited by: Melody Bancroft

Copy Edited by: Jeanne Smith

Executive Editor: Jeanne Smith

Cover Artist: Trisha FitzGerald-Jung

All rights reserved

NAMES, CHARACTERS AND incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Wings ePress Books

Copyright © 2019 by JoEllen Conger

ISBN  978-1-61309-359-7

Published In the United States Of America

Wings ePress, Inc.

3000 N. Rock Road

Newton, KS  67114

Dedication

Multi-subjects, free to fly; I dedicate my imagination to my twin, having gone

where I cannot follow.

One

The Red-Haired Princess

Sipping delicately at the watered-down wine the steward had brought her to ease her throat after her travels, the red-haired princess, a most mischievous waif, watched Henry gambol off up the main stairway, which wound its way through the upper realms of Castle Candelore, in search of Gwyndalin, the dowager queen. Princess Lena giggled to herself, enjoying the trick she intended to play.

In his haste, the excursion causing him to wheeze, Henry became aware of his lost younger years. Where had all his youth and agility strayed? Guiltily, he paused at a hallway junction to steady his wildly beating heart. He took a moment to collect himself before continuing his search for the dowager queen.

He finally located dowager Queen Gwyndalin alone in the queen’s solarium, staring skyward through an open archway. She seemed to be enjoying watching the winds of autumn tumble the dying leaves that were scattering across the veranda. The flicker of the defused sunlight catching on the luxuriant nap of Henry’s red velvet livery finally drew her attention away from the gusty scene.

Good heavens, Henry, what be so important that it has ye panting like an old hunting hound a-baying? With healing hands she orchestrated calming his breathing until he could finally speak.

He ducked his head in quick acknowledgement. Yer Highness...Yer Grace...Ye have been challenged to a game of...to a game of...

Well, out with it! the queen demanded.

...Hnefatafl.

What? A game of Hnefatafl! Gwyndalin declared, surprised.

Indignant, the queen stiffened. Who would dare challenge me to a king’s fighting game? It’s been years since I’ve played. Not since Lawrence moved his household away to Joyous Keep for good. Whomever did ye say has had the pluck to challenge me? she inquired.

Henry motioned wildly with both hands, still struggling to bring his words into play.

Well? huffed the dowager queen, having lost her patience.

A child, Henry finally spluttered.

Queen Gwyndalin stared blankly back at him. A child? That’s it? The cutting edge of her voice was double sharp. What child, pray tell, would be so bold?

Henry had finally caught his breath and said, She had her red hair braided all fancy-like, up on top of her head...mayhap, she be pressing onto ten winters...or thereabouts. I’m no judge of wee ladies.

Well, didn’t the lass have enough courtesy to introduce herself? Surely, ye didn’t admit some stranger into the household...unattended!

Nay, yer Grace. She be in good hands.

Oh?

His majesty the High King twere summoned to see after her comfort while I sought ye out.

Summoned! Gwyndalin spluttered. "Ye can’t just summon the High King!"

I’ll swear that even now she be setting up the pieces. He had a mischievous twinkle to his eyes.

Foresooth! the queen swore. Who dares touch me game board without me permission? Me Da hand-carved that set of figures for me wedding gift when at thirteen I left me home to wed me cousin, the king. Fire flashed from her eyes. Her mouth turned grim. Where is this upstart! she shouted.

The old man laughed with glee. The Princess, Lena Maria, awaits ye in the lesser hall. Successfully playing out the joke on the dowager queen had him chuckling.

"Now ye tell me, ye scoundrel! Ye let me make a fool of meself. Shame on ye, Henry!" she scolded. She gathered up her skirts and made a dive for the stairs down to the main entrance.

Gwyndalin quick-stepped through the upper floors of Candelore, leaving Henry far enough behind that he gave up trying to keep pace. She rushed into the small hall, stirring the very air with her passing. Then she halted, shouting a joyous welcome when she finally saw Princess Lena for herself.

The red-haired, fairy-like child beamed with delight. Did I fool you? she giggled, running to throw herself into the queen’s open embrace.

Where ever did ye learn such a naughty trick? questioned Gwyndalin.

I thought it could be something you might have thought up for your very own self years ago to gain audience, and it worked, didn’t it! Didn’t it! She hopped about with glee. Guess what? In spite of Moraine’s banishing charm, I remembered you! And here I am! Her smile radiated her love.

Gwyndalin pulled the wisp of a girl into a tight hug. Then come with me... She took the girl by the hand. Henry, if ye will, bring us tea and little biscuits. Then whirling about to Anthony, she said, Forgive me, Yer Majesty, ye may have her back in just a wee bit. We have some catching up to do. Ladies’ chatting, ye know, she added confidentially.

Lasses nattering? Ah...but of course, I am only the High King of all Brightland, Anthony cried dramatically. What rights do I have? He worried his fingers through his thick, blond curly hair. "What was I thinking of to have thought I could have audience with her first? Go right ahead, Nana. Be me guest. Take her off to yer solarium. Go! Go! the king shooed. What do I care? he wept most pitifully. Ye know where ye can find me whenever ye have the time to spare..." he called after the departing pair, weeping like a stage actor.

Then he added with a scowl, And when ye see me the next time, little lady, remember to bend the knee to me. Don’t ever forget, Salena Maria de la Esti of Castile, Liberia, I’m the master around here!

The princess glanced back over her shoulder, blowing kisses. Oh Anthony, you’re so cute when yer feeling yerself so put upon.

Anthony sputtered, watching her depart with the woman who had raised him to manhood. Cute! he fumed. The princess had had the nerve to call him cute! Had it been anyone else but Lena, she wouldn’t have gotten away with it.

MUCH LATER, LENA JOINED him in the King’s Council to raise her challenge. Did ye really...really send me away? she accused, a pretty scowl upon her forehead.

Are ye angry with me for protecting ye the only way I knew how? Anthony motioned for his retainers to retire.

The vast room became filled with haunted sounds as the court officers pulled away from the king’s audience, whispering one to another as they departed the hall. The princess repeated her question.

Anthony sighed deeply, and then asked in self-defense, Twere being with Queen Moraine la Fey all that terrible? She be family, after all.

Actually, she was quite nice...asked me to call her ‘mamah’...though I knew she wasn’t. But, why did ye send me away?

"Ah, child. Only ye could get away with pursuing after me shortcomings. He sighed deeply, straightening the front of his vest. I confess I’ve never before faced the likes of Ivor, Dark Lord of the Far Northland and his warg warriors. When I saw ye fighting that man ye hated so well, with what little magic ye had...at the time...I panicked.

Why?

He was coming to take ye away with him, and I couldn’t stop him. He paused a moment, reflecting upon that day.

But, back at me wedding, me aunt Moraine had stood and vowed...‘If ye ever have need of me, just call me name three times upon the wind.’ And for yer sake, that’s just what I did. She being our family’s wisest witch, hoping that with her own magic, she would know how to handle the situation.

Or, mayhap ye didna trust yerself? the princess challenged, her head cocked to one side.

Lena, people were dying! People we knew and loved! His voice cracked. "I knew not what to do. ME!" he beseeched aloud, his hand tapping, splayed across his heart. ...the highest king in all the land! And I didn’t know what to do.

Anthony shook his head sadly. I must confess I do not possess even a thimbleful of magic. How could I have fought him? I found meself as desperate as an untrained twat. I called. And like she promised, me aunt came. She saw. And she saved us all. I cannot regret me choice.

She blocked all me memories of that...and ye...and Candelore! And Gwyndalin, and the twins! the princess snarled, her mouth curled in contempt.

The hall fell silent as the two glared at one another. When she saw his mouth weaken and quaver, she knew she had gone too far. She had broken his heart, and in her pique had punished him over much. She raced up the three steps to his throne and threw herself into his arms. But I’m here now, she cried. Don’t...please don’t cry. I twas being deliberately mean ta you, just now. Can you ever forgive me?

Before he could answer, there came a loud commotion at the hall’s entrance, scuffling and shouting. Surprised, the two leaped apart, as though they had been caught doing something improper. Then, her royal companion staggered in through the massive swinging doors at the far end of the hall, with guardsmen clinging to him like ticks.

Sherman! the princess cried happily, thrilled to see him at last. She turned to Anthony for his permission to take her leave of him.

Anthony nodded, waving her to go. Even then he realized although she had not vowed fealty to him, she had nonetheless recognized his authority. Then he signaled the guardsmen to desist their efforts to stay the giant from entering, for he knew very well the oversized man loved his ward as much as he himself did. Even in their short time together, he had learned to appreciate the fairy-like child princess. And in their own way, they both struggled to keep the world from harming her. He slowly inched to his feet to watch as the two came together, her royal companion and protector swinging Lena up to circle around and around in a playful hug.

And the wee princess twere squealing like the little girl she was.

Two

Brightland’s Rebirthing

Prince Sherman of Iberia , Lena’s giant royal companion and personal guardsman, went down on one knee to draw the wee princess into his strong arms. Where have you been, missy? he questioned in his own language, resting his squared-off beard onto the top of her head.

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, my old friend, the ten-year-old said.

Why ever not? After all the stories you have told me over the years. Why not this one? He pulled her back far enough to gaze deeply into her eyes.

She finally nodded, turning her gaze away from her Companion. In an alternate world... she confessed, ...where I ended a grand war and saved King Anthony from great harm.

You? Saved this boy king from harm? Sherman grinned good-naturedly, glancing down the length of the hall to where the youthful High King Anthony awaited their approach.

Don’t laugh. You said you would believe me, she scolded happily.

That I did, my princess.

Lena patted Sherman’s muscular arm. Come, our king awaits to greet us. He is our king now...by choice. With the little people gone, we shan’t be going back home, I guess you know. But no matter, we’ll be well off here. Now don’t look so worried. I have the gold from the carriage, plus... she leaned over to whisper, King Anthony has made me a Ward of the Crown. Therefore, I ask you to supplicate yourself before him.

Sherman shook his head. "Nay, not I. You bow to him, little one. You are my only sovereign."

Princess Lena looked up sadly. Just nod to him, then...for me.

Lena made the hand signal for him to pick her up, which he had been doing since she was wee. Lifting her up against his chest, he carried her the length of the king’s council chamber and set her down before King Anthony’s throne. Sherman then took a respectful step backwards, behind the princess.

Princess Lena bowed by simply arching her neck, saying, Yer Majesty. But stubbornly she had only slightly bent a knee. Then she turned and glared at her royal companion. Finally, Sherman rolled his eyes heavenward and dipped a gracious nod. Satisfied, the princess smiled.

King Anthony said, So, Lena, have ye come back to tell me about how ye singlehandedly fought off the invading army? teased the High King. Thanks to ye, we have a victory to celebrate.

I don’t recall having gone to battle! insisted Sherman. When did that happen?

Oh aye, Sherman, it was splendid. And we do have a victory to celebrate! It twere indeed a grand battle, with everyone there. The Faoladh were fighting with Prince Ivor’s wargars being ridden by specters.

That sounds like a delightful tale! Come sit beside me, Anthony requested, and tell us about this Prince Ivor of yours. None of us remember having seen the wargar...or the Faoldah, Anthony protested.

Oh...Anthony, do ye really expect me to bard ye up an exciting battle tale? Uhm...ye do nay remember that I have but ten full cycles of the wheel? coaxed Princess Lena Maria, wringing her fingers.

Aye. I know how old ye be, peanut, but that shan’t change yer tale none. Somehow, I feel ye will manage to give us a grand performance.

"Well...but in all...tiz truly