“Just explaining court etiquette to you, sweetheart,” he answered. “I don’t want you doing anything to sour this man’s disposition.”
“I understand.” She moved closer to Stone as they approached the gate. The men atop the wall walk worked the pulley and gears. With a loud creaking noise the heavy iron gate slowly lifted to allow them entrance.
“Leave all your animals outside my castle walls,” commanded the king, raising his hand as they started forward.
“Why?” Darium demanded to know.
“I’ve seen what that fae wife of yours can do, Blackseed, or are you forgetting,” sneered the king. “I won’t have animals attacking me again. Especially not that damned bird of yours.”
“My bird stays with me.”
“Then you both can stay outside my walls. So leave.”
“Nay, we can’t leave,” Persimmon told the king, rushing into the courtyard. She heard the rest of the men following after her. Panic filled her, thinking she wouldn’t have the chance to find the old couples’ son. She had seen how important this was to them. If they left now, she’d have to tell the dying couple that she’d failed. Persimmon didn’t want to fail. And she certainly didn’t want to let anyone down.
“What did you say?” growled the king.
“Dammit, I told you to stay by me, and not to speak,” Stone ground out, coming up behind her.
“I can’t leave before I find Gregor Lithum,” she told the king. “His parents have been attacked by thieves and are close to death. Is Gregor here?”
“Who are you?” snapped the king, not even acknowledging her question.
“I am Persimmon Burroughs from Lornoon,” she told him, followed by a curtsy. She looked at Stone from the corner of her eye, wanting him to know she was trying her hardest to follow court etiquette.
“Lornoon?” The king’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword. “You come from the land of magic. You are a witch, aren’t you?”
“Is that a bad thing?” she asked, her eyes flashing from the king to Stone and then over to Darium who had entered the courtyard but without his raven. If looks could kill, she’d be dead right now by all three of them.
“I don’t like this,” shouted the king. “This is a trick to take over my kingdom. Men, seize them and take them to the dungeon!”
“Go, Murk. Get help,” shouted Darium, pulling his sword from the scabbard on his back. Stone drew his sword as well. Aithrod held out the staff with two hands. Fang snarled and showed his teeth as the raven squawked from atop a turret and took off into the sky. The men stood with their backs to each other, their weapons at the ready. Stone reached out and pushed Persimmon to the middle of their circle.
“Stay close, and don’t think of disobeying me this time,” Stone commanded.
“I can help,” she said, but no one would listen to her. Swords started to clash as a battle began.
“It was a bad idea to come here,” shouted Darium.
“I agree to that,” said Aithrod, using the staff to ward off a blow from one of the king’s soldiers.
“We were fine until the girl decided to open her mouth.” Stone was not happy with her at all, and she hoped they’d live through this so he could forgive her later. A soldier ran toward them. Stone stepped in front of Persimmon, keeping her from being hurt.
“Everyone, start moving toward the gate,” instructed Darium. “I hate to have to do this, but I’m going to use my fae power to blow them back and keep them away from us.”
“I can help, too,” Persimmon said again, but still no one listened to her.
They slowly moved toward the gate. Darium lifted his hand and started a whirlwind, keeping the men from moving closer.
“Get to the horses,” shouted Stone. “We’ll have to try another approach later.”
Darium’s fae power of controlling the wind was working to their advantage. They were almost out the gate and to the horses when Persimmon realized the pouch holding her crystal orb had fallen from her waist band during the struggle. She looked around and saw it laying on the cobblestones inside the courtyard. She couldn’t leave it there. It was precious to her and the only remembrance of her mother.
“Get on your horses. Now,” shouted Darium. “I’ll try to hold them off.”
“Let’s go,” Stone told her, turning toward the horse to mount.
“I can’t leave it,” she muttered, going after the crystal ball instead of following the men to safety.
Nine
“Up you go, Persimmon.” Stone slid his sword back into his scabbard, and went to grab the girl and lift her up into the saddle. But when he turned around, she was no longer there.
“I can’t hold them off any longer,” Darium shouted. “I am still not used to my powers and get drained quickly. We need to leave here, now. Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Stone called to the other men. Darium had stopped controlling the wind and the soldiers were moving forward. He was already atop his horse. Aithrod was already riding away. “Persimmon isn’t here,” Stone said, but with all the noise and commotion, they didn’t hear him. He looked through the settling dust into the courtyard from the whirlwind Darium created. That’s when he saw Persimmon bending down to pick something up.
“We’ve got to go right now,” yelled Darium. “What are you doing?”
“You two leave. Take Fang with you,” shouted Stone. “I’m going back for the girl.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” asked Darium.
“I sure hope so. Just get out of here. We’ll meet up with you later.” Stone rushed back into the courtyard, once again drawing his sword. “Persimmon, let’s go!”
She stood up with that damned velvet bag in her hands that held her gazing orb.
