DWP FanFic - Queen's Witch - Chapter 1
Title: Queen’s Witch
Rating: PG
Pairing: Eventual Miranda/Andy, mentions of prior pairings
Length/Word Count: Apx 49.4K. This story is complete and has 15 chapters plus an epilogue.
Summary: Andy is a 500 year old witch. Miranda is a Queen in need of her assistance.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to The Devil Wears Prada characters. However, the storyline is mine.
A/N1: Thank you Punky96 for looking this over. Any and all mistakes are mine because I just keep tweaking. I can’t help myself.
A/N2: This story may be considered AU or, according to XV, Uber. The characters are familiar but they are placed in an unfamiliar time and place.
Chapter 1 - A Beginning
Andy wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and stared across the sun baked plain. They had just left the relative safety of the forest. As she looked back over her shoulder, she hoped they gained enough of a lead on their pursuer.
“How close?” The young knight asked as he surveyed the area for additional dangers and then tugged on the pack horse’s rope to hurry the animal along.
“Close enough. But we’re almost there.” Andy pointed to the fortification in the middle of the plain. “We won’t have to push the horses now.” Andy nudged her horse along the faint path leading to stone walls.
Horace studied the stone walls and the surrounding plain as they drew closer. “What was this place, my Lady?”
“Horace, I’m going to hurt you.” Andy rolled her eyes. “I swear you do it just to aggravate me. Not a lady. Witch.” It was a familiar argument that came up frequently as they traveled. Andy gazed at the walls before turning back to the young man. “A long time ago this was a border outpost.”
“What happened? The walls are still standing.” Horace didn’t see any obvious reason for the outpost not being in use.
“The usual.” Andy shrugged. “Regime changed. Kingdom fell. The fort was abandoned by the men stationed here when the border they were responsible for no longer mattered.”
“That’s too bad,” he mused while still assessing the area.
Andy sighed. “Things change and time keeps moving forward. Nothing lasts forever.” She was all too aware of that truth.
When they reached the outer walls they could see that the wooden gates had long since rotted away and the entrance to the fort was wide open. Andy guided her horse to the side and dismounted, looping the reins around the stubby branches of a small tree. She brushed some of the dust from her black robes as she waited for Horace.
“Looks cozy,” Horace said as he continued to survey the area after tying off his charger and packhorse. He was relieved that they had finally reached their destination. The constant tension of always looking over his shoulder for their pursuer weighed heavy on his mind. He was looking forward to finally finishing his mission, no matter what the outcome.
“We won’t be here long enough to enjoy the accommodations. Come on, we need to see a man about a sword.” The witch and knight cautiously entered the courtyard alert to any danger. It was evident no one had called the place home in many years. Leaves and detritus carried in by the wind caught in the corners of the courtyard. Weeds had grown up in the cracks between the paving stones. Plants and small trees sprouted from the tops of the walls. The feeling was one of desolation and abandonment.
“Still think it’s cozy?” Andy extended her senses to get a better feel for the outpost. The courtyard they were standing in was obviously empty. A large opening in the opposite wall allowed access deeper into the fortress.
“It could use some work,” Horace muttered as he continued to evaluate the space and calculate how he could mount a defense if needed.
Andy looked around and pointed to the steps leading up to a doorway in the corner tower. “This way.” The two climbed the exterior steps and found an interior stairway that spiraled up the tower. At the top of the stairway Andy carefully opened a large wooden door and stepped into a surprisingly bright, clean space. Centered in the room was a wooden table with a long narrow unadorned box. Andy nodded to the man standing by the window as she motioned Horace to follow.
“Pickwick, long time no see. How are you?” Andy felt some of her tension finally unwind.
“Fine, witch, just fine. Queen Lillian was surprised to get your message.” Pickwick clasped Andy’s hand.
“Well, circumstances being what they were, I didn’t have much of a choice.” Andy gestured towards Horace. “I would like to introduce Sir Horace, Knight of King Benedict’s Court. He will be my champion in the fight. Horace, this is Pickwick, confidant and attendant to Queen Lillian of the Fair Tree Court.”
“An honor, Sir Pickwick.” Horace bowed and was discretely curious regarding Pickwick’s race. With a stout muscular build, Pickwick was a good head shorter than Horace and a couple of inches shorter than Andy. His ears came to a point but he was not elven. Horace was impressed with Pickwick’s fashion sense. The green jacket and pants he wore did seem to flatter his florid complexion and orange red hair and beard.
Andy could tell that Horace was trying hard not to stare at the unusual looking Pickwick. “Pickwick is a Leprechaun, Horace. One of the ancient race of Fairy.”
“Leprechaun? I have not had the pleasure of meeting such people. Please forgive my ignorance sir.” Horace was worried he may have offended Pickwick.
“No problem, Sir Knight. My people tend to avoid the humans as much as possible. Now, I believe you have need of the sword?” Pickwick pointed towards the table.
As Andy moved to look out the large open window, Horace reached for the long box. “Hold, good Knight. There is the matter of the price.”
“Pickwick, I’m picking up the tab on this one.” Andy looked over her shoulder at the men. “My problem, my responsibility,” she nodded to Pickwick.
“As you wish, witch. Sir Knight, I present Barlos’ revenge.” Pickwick stepped back and gestured for the knight to open the box.
“Andy?” Horace cast a worried look at the woman. “King Benedict said he would pay the Queen’s price from his treasury.”
“Not happening, Horace.” Andy turned to stare out the window as she shook her head. “The price isn’t gold, but service. Queen Lillian asks a year of service for the use of the sword. I will pay the price,” she said softly.
Horace frowned and turned to the box. Opening the lid, he gently folded back the black velvet wrapping revealing the most beautiful sword he had ever seen. Reverently, he lifted it from its resting place and held it up to the light. The length of the blade was delicately etched with a design of ivy and roses. The hilt was wire wrapped and had a large sapphire mounted in the pommel. He swung it once and marveled at its beauty. “It is a work of art. It looks elven, but a name like ‘Barlos’ Revenge’ doesn’t sound elven.”
Pickwick chuckled as he watched the knight. “It’s elven alright. The sword was re-named long ago. The elves have no idea that we have it.”
Andrea moved away from the window where she had been keeping watch while Horace examined the weapon. “A long time ago an elven warrior decided he was better at cards than Queen Lillian. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize who she was and proceeded to lose all of his gold, weapons, and, I believe, his boots.” Andy smiled ruefully. “Lillian gave him back his boots, but kept the gold and the sword. The elf was killed in battle soon after and his people thought the sword lost on the field.”
Horace looked from the sword to Andrea. “If they knew the Fairies had the sword, they would wage war to get it back wouldn’t they?”
“Yeah, they consider all elven made swords to be national treasures and not for use by the inferior races.” Andy touched Horace’s sword arm. “I would consider it a great favor if you did not mention its heritage when you re-tell this story.”
Horace placed his hand on his chest. “On my honor, Lady Andrea.”
“Horace, you’re lucky I need you right now.” Andy shook her head at his persistence. “Otherwise I would kick your ass for every ‘Lady’ you’ve thrown at me.” Andy suddenly sobered and turned towards the window. “I think our friend has arrived. Horace, it’s up to you now. Be careful. I think the Black Knight will follow the rules of engagement, but don’t count on it. He’s a Black Knight for more reasons than the color of his armor.”
Horace looked down at himself. “Speaking of which, are you sure my light armor and mail will be enough? You said he would be in full plate.”
Andy nodded as she looked him over. “Yeah, you’ll be fine. You’ll be able to move quicker and react faster. Plus his helm is going to block his vision.”
“Will he have a squire with him?” Horace did a last check of his armor and swung the sword to check its balance.
“No, he travels with a slave. He probably left him back at his camp. I doubt that he would bring him here. If you see him on your way home, you can tell him he’s free. Now go on, get outta here.” Andy smiled as she waved him off.
“My Lady, I will do my best.” Bowing with a flourish, Horace took Andy’s hand and kissed it. Then he left the tower room to meet his opponent in the courtyard.
Pickwick watched the little show with a smile. “Is he always that gallant?”
“Unfortunately, yes. But I suppose gallantry has its uses.” Andy went to the wall furthest from the window and sat down to wait. She was exhausted from the journey and the magic she used along the way to get them here.
Pickwick went to the window and watched over the courtyard. ‘”You don’t want to see this?”
“I have no desire to see a man die today.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Pickwick was worried about his friend. He hadn’t seen her so worn down in ages. “Are you sure young Horace can defeat your Black Knight? He looks a mite wet behind the ears.”
Andy shifted and attempted to get comfortable. It didn’t take long for her to realize this was as good as it was going to get. “Don’t let that baby face and lanky build fool you. That young man is one of the best knights in his King’s court.”
“Hopefully, he’ll be good enough.” Pickwick turned back to the window. “Horace is in the courtyard now and someone is coming through the gate. Great Goddess, he’s a big ‘un. Do they grow them all that big where he comes from?”
Andy cracked open one eye and frowned at Pickwick. “No. Part of it is an illusion powered by the magic of the armor. Sir Tomlin is a normal size man with an abnormal size ego.”
Andy closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Resigned, she knew what the outcome would be. Rather than dwell on the wasteful death, she thought back to a few nights ago sitting by the fire with Horace.
***
Andy pitched the quail bones on the fire and licked her fingers. She glanced at the knight and saw that he was finishing his share of dinner too. “I have a couple of apples. Would you like one, Horace?”
Horace quickly swallowed the last bite. “Thank you, Lady Andrea.”
Andy frowned at the man. “Damn it Horace. I am not a lady. I’m a witch. Remember? Magic? Spells? Ring a bell? At least call me Andy for the Goddess’ sake.” Andy stared into the fire. “No one calls me Andrea anymore,” she murmured.
“My La- Andy. Calling you witch just isn’t right. It’s not respectful.”
Andy shrugged one shoulder. “Why not? That’s what I am.”
Horace sat up proudly. “You are also my King’s love. You’re his counselor and ambassador to the neighboring kingdoms. I expect you will rise even higher one day,” he grinned.
Andy sighed and glanced at Horace, reminding herself how young he was. “Horace, look at me. Tell me what you see.”
Horace was puzzled by Andy’s request and somber manner. “I see a beautiful woman of no more than 25 or 26 years. I see lovely long brown hair and brown eyes. I see someone who will be the most beautiful Queen to ever bless our country.”
Andy reached for the water skin and took a drink. She always found this conversation to be uncomfortable. Buying time, she dug two apples out of her pack and tossed one to Horace. She looked at her apple and put it back in the pack. “Horace, I am over 500 years old. I will never be more than a brief liaison to King Benedict.”
Horace was stunned. “But, you look . . . And the way you are with the King. It doesn’t seem possible.”
“Witch, Horace,” Andy said softly. “Remember? Magic is part of me and magic doesn’t allow a witch or warlock to age like normal people.”
“Andy, the King loves you. I know. I’ve heard him say so a hundred times,” Horace said earnestly.
“And I care for him Horace,” she explained. “But what we had could never last. The King needs to make an alliance and father children. I can’t do that for him. Witches of a certain power are sterile.” Andy rubbed her forehead as she considered how best to explain the facts of life to her companion.
“Three days after we left, a delegation from Milarna arrived to begin negotiations with Benedict. Princess Lorin was part of that delegation. She and Benedict are going to form an alliance: political and personal. They will come to care deeply for one another and their children will unite the two kingdoms.”
“How do you know what will happen?” Horace was aghast. “How do you know they’ll even get along?”
“Because I went to Milarna and met Lorin,” Andy said. “She is exactly the type of woman to appeal to Ben. After getting to know Lorin, I knew that Ben was exactly the type of man to appeal to her. They’ll be very happy together.”
Horace frowned. “What about you Andy?”
Andy looked across the fire into Horace’s sad eyes. “I’ll do what I always do. I’ll leave. In this case, I won’t return with you. After you take care of my problem, you can head back to King Benedict’s court in time for the big celebration. I’ll be on to my next adventure.” Andy stood up and pulled a blanket out of her pack. After she spread it out, she laid down. “Get some sleep, Horace. We still have a lot of ground to cover in the morning.”
Horace pulled out his blanket and spread it on the opposite side of the fire. He set his uneaten apple down on the ground beside him.
***
“Well, it’s done then.” Pickwick turned from the window and looked at Andy. Although she looked like she was dozing, he knew better.
“Did Horace gut him like a fish?” Andy’s arms were crossed and her head had fallen forward. She was so tired and dreaded getting up again.
“Just about. He’s standing over the body looking like he’s never seen dead man before.” Taking one last look at the courtyard below, Pickwick walked over to the table and grabbed the long box.
“Probably surprised at how easy it was. We better get down there. I need to clean up a few things.” Andy slowly stood up and dusted herself off. Pickwick followed her down the stairs.
Andy shaded her eyes when she stepped through the tower door. Pickwick was right. Horace was just standing over Sir Tomlin’s body. He held the sword loosely, letting it dangle not quite touching the ground. Pickwick hurried over taking the sword and began to wipe off the blood and gore.
Andy took Horace’s arm and pulled him back to the tower steps. “Sit down,” she said as she gently pushed him.
Horace tore his gaze from the dead knight and looked up at Andy. “He wasn’t that good. He could barely defend against my attacks. Why was he such a threat to you? I’ve seen you spar Andy. You could have taken him with a butter knife.”
“No I couldn’t Horace,” Andy shook her head. “His armor is enchanted. I wouldn’t have had a chance against him. A regular sword or common magic wouldn’t take him down.” Andy watched Pickwick gently wrap the elven sword and return it to the box.
“Why did he want to kill you?” Horace asked.
“He didn’t want to kill me, he just wanted me.” Andy swallowed hard.
“What?” Horace sat up straight and stared at the witch.
“One night stand go wrong, witch?” Pickwick smirked.
“There is no way in hell I would have ever been with that bastard.” Andy turned and stalked back to the body. “A long time ago, Sir Tomlin here, was given a prophecy. He was told that if he held magic he would gain great power. The idiot decided that holding magic meant having me.”
Andy crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “Another magic user helped Tomlin set me up. He crafted the armor with something special in it. When Tomlin had it on, he attacked me. I defended myself and used my magic to blast him away from me. Unfortunately, that blast actually empowered the armor.” Andy sneered at the dead knight.
“Whenever I got near, it sucked power from me and Tomlin became damn near invincible. When I figured out what happened, I ran. I’ve been running and hiding from this scum for years. He’s been able to track me through my magic. I’ve had to obscure or hide my talent to keep ahead of him. I found out he was going to challenge King Benedict and couldn’t let that happen.”
Pickwick rubbed his ear. “Was that why you moved to the back of the tower room? You were putting as much distance between yourself and the Black Knight?”
“No, I knew I was far enough away. I wasn’t lying when I said I had no desire to see a man die today. Such a waste,” she whispered.
Horace looked from Andy to the dead knight. “That doesn’t explain why I could kill him so easily.”
Andy just shook her head as she nudged the body with her foot. “Tomlin has been relying on magic armor for so long, he got lazy. The elven sword was immune to the magic and could easily penetrate the armor.”
“What now, witch?” Pickwick carefully picked up the sword box.
Andy put her hands on her hips and looked up at the clear blue sky. “I bury Tommy boy somewhere inconspicuous, Horace heads back home, and you and I go see Queen Lily.
Horace stood and moved towards Andy. “Let me come with you, Andy.”
“I’m sorry, Horace, no.” Andy reached out and took his hand. “You have to go back to Ben. He’s going to need you.”
“What about you, Andy? Let me come with you. I can defend you during your travels. I can take care of you.” Although they hadn’t know each other long, Horace had grown to care for the witch. He saw the shadows in her eyes and longed to chase them away.
“Horace, my friend, I can take care of myself.” Andy gently hugged Horace tucking her head under his chin. After a moment she stepped back and looked at him as if memorizing his face. “Ben is going to need you, now more than ever. An alliance with Milarna is going to make the other kingdoms nervous. One of them might get the crazy idea to attack before the alliance has a chance to solidify.”
“Is your magic prophesying now?” Horace’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
Andy shook her head. “No, I just know how people think. You need to be at King Benedict’s side to defend the kingdom. He trusts you more than all the other knights.”
Horace stepped towards the witch. “Andy, I would give up all of that to be with you. I ca-”
Andy reached up and placed two fingers over Horace’s mouth. “Horace, listen to me. You and I cannot be together. You need to go back to King Benedict. Please try to understand and do this for me.”
Horace took Andy’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Yes, My Lady.” Bowing deeply, he turned and strode out of the courtyard.
“He going to be okay, witch?” Pickwick wondered the same about his friend.
Resigned, she nodded, “Yeah, it happens.” After a moment she straightened her shoulders. “Let me take care of this and we can get on our way.” Andy walked back to the body. Waving her hand, Andy and the Black Knight disappeared.
By the time Pickwick retrieved his mount from an inner courtyard, Andy was back.
“It’s done. Come on, Pickwick.” Andy paused and took one more look around the courtyard before moving towards the gate.
Outside the walls, only Andy’s horse was tied to the bush. A note was tucked under the edge of the saddle. “My Lady,” she read “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Please know that if you need anything, you may call on me at any time. Your Champion, Sir Horace de Barlen.”
Andy untied the reins and tucked the note into her pocket. She nodded to Pickwick and mounted.
Pickwick watched Andy look out at the dust cloud rising to the east. Her expression was solemn. “You okay, witch?”
Andy nodded and wiped her eyes. She turned her back on Horace’s flight, and started her horse west.
Chapter 2 - Paying a Debt
Rating: PG
Pairing: Eventual Miranda/Andy, mentions of prior pairings
Length/Word Count: Apx 49.4K. This story is complete and has 15 chapters plus an epilogue.
Summary: Andy is a 500 year old witch. Miranda is a Queen in need of her assistance.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to The Devil Wears Prada characters. However, the storyline is mine.
A/N1: Thank you Punky96 for looking this over. Any and all mistakes are mine because I just keep tweaking. I can’t help myself.
A/N2: This story may be considered AU or, according to XV, Uber. The characters are familiar but they are placed in an unfamiliar time and place.
Chapter 1 - A Beginning
Andy wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and stared across the sun baked plain. They had just left the relative safety of the forest. As she looked back over her shoulder, she hoped they gained enough of a lead on their pursuer.
“How close?” The young knight asked as he surveyed the area for additional dangers and then tugged on the pack horse’s rope to hurry the animal along.
“Close enough. But we’re almost there.” Andy pointed to the fortification in the middle of the plain. “We won’t have to push the horses now.” Andy nudged her horse along the faint path leading to stone walls.
Horace studied the stone walls and the surrounding plain as they drew closer. “What was this place, my Lady?”
“Horace, I’m going to hurt you.” Andy rolled her eyes. “I swear you do it just to aggravate me. Not a lady. Witch.” It was a familiar argument that came up frequently as they traveled. Andy gazed at the walls before turning back to the young man. “A long time ago this was a border outpost.”
“What happened? The walls are still standing.” Horace didn’t see any obvious reason for the outpost not being in use.
“The usual.” Andy shrugged. “Regime changed. Kingdom fell. The fort was abandoned by the men stationed here when the border they were responsible for no longer mattered.”
“That’s too bad,” he mused while still assessing the area.
Andy sighed. “Things change and time keeps moving forward. Nothing lasts forever.” She was all too aware of that truth.
When they reached the outer walls they could see that the wooden gates had long since rotted away and the entrance to the fort was wide open. Andy guided her horse to the side and dismounted, looping the reins around the stubby branches of a small tree. She brushed some of the dust from her black robes as she waited for Horace.
“Looks cozy,” Horace said as he continued to survey the area after tying off his charger and packhorse. He was relieved that they had finally reached their destination. The constant tension of always looking over his shoulder for their pursuer weighed heavy on his mind. He was looking forward to finally finishing his mission, no matter what the outcome.
“We won’t be here long enough to enjoy the accommodations. Come on, we need to see a man about a sword.” The witch and knight cautiously entered the courtyard alert to any danger. It was evident no one had called the place home in many years. Leaves and detritus carried in by the wind caught in the corners of the courtyard. Weeds had grown up in the cracks between the paving stones. Plants and small trees sprouted from the tops of the walls. The feeling was one of desolation and abandonment.
“Still think it’s cozy?” Andy extended her senses to get a better feel for the outpost. The courtyard they were standing in was obviously empty. A large opening in the opposite wall allowed access deeper into the fortress.
“It could use some work,” Horace muttered as he continued to evaluate the space and calculate how he could mount a defense if needed.
Andy looked around and pointed to the steps leading up to a doorway in the corner tower. “This way.” The two climbed the exterior steps and found an interior stairway that spiraled up the tower. At the top of the stairway Andy carefully opened a large wooden door and stepped into a surprisingly bright, clean space. Centered in the room was a wooden table with a long narrow unadorned box. Andy nodded to the man standing by the window as she motioned Horace to follow.
“Pickwick, long time no see. How are you?” Andy felt some of her tension finally unwind.
“Fine, witch, just fine. Queen Lillian was surprised to get your message.” Pickwick clasped Andy’s hand.
“Well, circumstances being what they were, I didn’t have much of a choice.” Andy gestured towards Horace. “I would like to introduce Sir Horace, Knight of King Benedict’s Court. He will be my champion in the fight. Horace, this is Pickwick, confidant and attendant to Queen Lillian of the Fair Tree Court.”
“An honor, Sir Pickwick.” Horace bowed and was discretely curious regarding Pickwick’s race. With a stout muscular build, Pickwick was a good head shorter than Horace and a couple of inches shorter than Andy. His ears came to a point but he was not elven. Horace was impressed with Pickwick’s fashion sense. The green jacket and pants he wore did seem to flatter his florid complexion and orange red hair and beard.
Andy could tell that Horace was trying hard not to stare at the unusual looking Pickwick. “Pickwick is a Leprechaun, Horace. One of the ancient race of Fairy.”
“Leprechaun? I have not had the pleasure of meeting such people. Please forgive my ignorance sir.” Horace was worried he may have offended Pickwick.
“No problem, Sir Knight. My people tend to avoid the humans as much as possible. Now, I believe you have need of the sword?” Pickwick pointed towards the table.
As Andy moved to look out the large open window, Horace reached for the long box. “Hold, good Knight. There is the matter of the price.”
“Pickwick, I’m picking up the tab on this one.” Andy looked over her shoulder at the men. “My problem, my responsibility,” she nodded to Pickwick.
“As you wish, witch. Sir Knight, I present Barlos’ revenge.” Pickwick stepped back and gestured for the knight to open the box.
“Andy?” Horace cast a worried look at the woman. “King Benedict said he would pay the Queen’s price from his treasury.”
“Not happening, Horace.” Andy turned to stare out the window as she shook her head. “The price isn’t gold, but service. Queen Lillian asks a year of service for the use of the sword. I will pay the price,” she said softly.
Horace frowned and turned to the box. Opening the lid, he gently folded back the black velvet wrapping revealing the most beautiful sword he had ever seen. Reverently, he lifted it from its resting place and held it up to the light. The length of the blade was delicately etched with a design of ivy and roses. The hilt was wire wrapped and had a large sapphire mounted in the pommel. He swung it once and marveled at its beauty. “It is a work of art. It looks elven, but a name like ‘Barlos’ Revenge’ doesn’t sound elven.”
Pickwick chuckled as he watched the knight. “It’s elven alright. The sword was re-named long ago. The elves have no idea that we have it.”
Andrea moved away from the window where she had been keeping watch while Horace examined the weapon. “A long time ago an elven warrior decided he was better at cards than Queen Lillian. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize who she was and proceeded to lose all of his gold, weapons, and, I believe, his boots.” Andy smiled ruefully. “Lillian gave him back his boots, but kept the gold and the sword. The elf was killed in battle soon after and his people thought the sword lost on the field.”
Horace looked from the sword to Andrea. “If they knew the Fairies had the sword, they would wage war to get it back wouldn’t they?”
“Yeah, they consider all elven made swords to be national treasures and not for use by the inferior races.” Andy touched Horace’s sword arm. “I would consider it a great favor if you did not mention its heritage when you re-tell this story.”
Horace placed his hand on his chest. “On my honor, Lady Andrea.”
“Horace, you’re lucky I need you right now.” Andy shook her head at his persistence. “Otherwise I would kick your ass for every ‘Lady’ you’ve thrown at me.” Andy suddenly sobered and turned towards the window. “I think our friend has arrived. Horace, it’s up to you now. Be careful. I think the Black Knight will follow the rules of engagement, but don’t count on it. He’s a Black Knight for more reasons than the color of his armor.”
Horace looked down at himself. “Speaking of which, are you sure my light armor and mail will be enough? You said he would be in full plate.”
Andy nodded as she looked him over. “Yeah, you’ll be fine. You’ll be able to move quicker and react faster. Plus his helm is going to block his vision.”
“Will he have a squire with him?” Horace did a last check of his armor and swung the sword to check its balance.
“No, he travels with a slave. He probably left him back at his camp. I doubt that he would bring him here. If you see him on your way home, you can tell him he’s free. Now go on, get outta here.” Andy smiled as she waved him off.
“My Lady, I will do my best.” Bowing with a flourish, Horace took Andy’s hand and kissed it. Then he left the tower room to meet his opponent in the courtyard.
Pickwick watched the little show with a smile. “Is he always that gallant?”
“Unfortunately, yes. But I suppose gallantry has its uses.” Andy went to the wall furthest from the window and sat down to wait. She was exhausted from the journey and the magic she used along the way to get them here.
Pickwick went to the window and watched over the courtyard. ‘”You don’t want to see this?”
“I have no desire to see a man die today.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Pickwick was worried about his friend. He hadn’t seen her so worn down in ages. “Are you sure young Horace can defeat your Black Knight? He looks a mite wet behind the ears.”
Andy shifted and attempted to get comfortable. It didn’t take long for her to realize this was as good as it was going to get. “Don’t let that baby face and lanky build fool you. That young man is one of the best knights in his King’s court.”
“Hopefully, he’ll be good enough.” Pickwick turned back to the window. “Horace is in the courtyard now and someone is coming through the gate. Great Goddess, he’s a big ‘un. Do they grow them all that big where he comes from?”
Andy cracked open one eye and frowned at Pickwick. “No. Part of it is an illusion powered by the magic of the armor. Sir Tomlin is a normal size man with an abnormal size ego.”
Andy closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. Resigned, she knew what the outcome would be. Rather than dwell on the wasteful death, she thought back to a few nights ago sitting by the fire with Horace.
***
Andy pitched the quail bones on the fire and licked her fingers. She glanced at the knight and saw that he was finishing his share of dinner too. “I have a couple of apples. Would you like one, Horace?”
Horace quickly swallowed the last bite. “Thank you, Lady Andrea.”
Andy frowned at the man. “Damn it Horace. I am not a lady. I’m a witch. Remember? Magic? Spells? Ring a bell? At least call me Andy for the Goddess’ sake.” Andy stared into the fire. “No one calls me Andrea anymore,” she murmured.
“My La- Andy. Calling you witch just isn’t right. It’s not respectful.”
Andy shrugged one shoulder. “Why not? That’s what I am.”
Horace sat up proudly. “You are also my King’s love. You’re his counselor and ambassador to the neighboring kingdoms. I expect you will rise even higher one day,” he grinned.
Andy sighed and glanced at Horace, reminding herself how young he was. “Horace, look at me. Tell me what you see.”
Horace was puzzled by Andy’s request and somber manner. “I see a beautiful woman of no more than 25 or 26 years. I see lovely long brown hair and brown eyes. I see someone who will be the most beautiful Queen to ever bless our country.”
Andy reached for the water skin and took a drink. She always found this conversation to be uncomfortable. Buying time, she dug two apples out of her pack and tossed one to Horace. She looked at her apple and put it back in the pack. “Horace, I am over 500 years old. I will never be more than a brief liaison to King Benedict.”
Horace was stunned. “But, you look . . . And the way you are with the King. It doesn’t seem possible.”
“Witch, Horace,” Andy said softly. “Remember? Magic is part of me and magic doesn’t allow a witch or warlock to age like normal people.”
“Andy, the King loves you. I know. I’ve heard him say so a hundred times,” Horace said earnestly.
“And I care for him Horace,” she explained. “But what we had could never last. The King needs to make an alliance and father children. I can’t do that for him. Witches of a certain power are sterile.” Andy rubbed her forehead as she considered how best to explain the facts of life to her companion.
“Three days after we left, a delegation from Milarna arrived to begin negotiations with Benedict. Princess Lorin was part of that delegation. She and Benedict are going to form an alliance: political and personal. They will come to care deeply for one another and their children will unite the two kingdoms.”
“How do you know what will happen?” Horace was aghast. “How do you know they’ll even get along?”
“Because I went to Milarna and met Lorin,” Andy said. “She is exactly the type of woman to appeal to Ben. After getting to know Lorin, I knew that Ben was exactly the type of man to appeal to her. They’ll be very happy together.”
Horace frowned. “What about you Andy?”
Andy looked across the fire into Horace’s sad eyes. “I’ll do what I always do. I’ll leave. In this case, I won’t return with you. After you take care of my problem, you can head back to King Benedict’s court in time for the big celebration. I’ll be on to my next adventure.” Andy stood up and pulled a blanket out of her pack. After she spread it out, she laid down. “Get some sleep, Horace. We still have a lot of ground to cover in the morning.”
Horace pulled out his blanket and spread it on the opposite side of the fire. He set his uneaten apple down on the ground beside him.
***
“Well, it’s done then.” Pickwick turned from the window and looked at Andy. Although she looked like she was dozing, he knew better.
“Did Horace gut him like a fish?” Andy’s arms were crossed and her head had fallen forward. She was so tired and dreaded getting up again.
“Just about. He’s standing over the body looking like he’s never seen dead man before.” Taking one last look at the courtyard below, Pickwick walked over to the table and grabbed the long box.
“Probably surprised at how easy it was. We better get down there. I need to clean up a few things.” Andy slowly stood up and dusted herself off. Pickwick followed her down the stairs.
Andy shaded her eyes when she stepped through the tower door. Pickwick was right. Horace was just standing over Sir Tomlin’s body. He held the sword loosely, letting it dangle not quite touching the ground. Pickwick hurried over taking the sword and began to wipe off the blood and gore.
Andy took Horace’s arm and pulled him back to the tower steps. “Sit down,” she said as she gently pushed him.
Horace tore his gaze from the dead knight and looked up at Andy. “He wasn’t that good. He could barely defend against my attacks. Why was he such a threat to you? I’ve seen you spar Andy. You could have taken him with a butter knife.”
“No I couldn’t Horace,” Andy shook her head. “His armor is enchanted. I wouldn’t have had a chance against him. A regular sword or common magic wouldn’t take him down.” Andy watched Pickwick gently wrap the elven sword and return it to the box.
“Why did he want to kill you?” Horace asked.
“He didn’t want to kill me, he just wanted me.” Andy swallowed hard.
“What?” Horace sat up straight and stared at the witch.
“One night stand go wrong, witch?” Pickwick smirked.
“There is no way in hell I would have ever been with that bastard.” Andy turned and stalked back to the body. “A long time ago, Sir Tomlin here, was given a prophecy. He was told that if he held magic he would gain great power. The idiot decided that holding magic meant having me.”
Andy crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “Another magic user helped Tomlin set me up. He crafted the armor with something special in it. When Tomlin had it on, he attacked me. I defended myself and used my magic to blast him away from me. Unfortunately, that blast actually empowered the armor.” Andy sneered at the dead knight.
“Whenever I got near, it sucked power from me and Tomlin became damn near invincible. When I figured out what happened, I ran. I’ve been running and hiding from this scum for years. He’s been able to track me through my magic. I’ve had to obscure or hide my talent to keep ahead of him. I found out he was going to challenge King Benedict and couldn’t let that happen.”
Pickwick rubbed his ear. “Was that why you moved to the back of the tower room? You were putting as much distance between yourself and the Black Knight?”
“No, I knew I was far enough away. I wasn’t lying when I said I had no desire to see a man die today. Such a waste,” she whispered.
Horace looked from Andy to the dead knight. “That doesn’t explain why I could kill him so easily.”
Andy just shook her head as she nudged the body with her foot. “Tomlin has been relying on magic armor for so long, he got lazy. The elven sword was immune to the magic and could easily penetrate the armor.”
“What now, witch?” Pickwick carefully picked up the sword box.
Andy put her hands on her hips and looked up at the clear blue sky. “I bury Tommy boy somewhere inconspicuous, Horace heads back home, and you and I go see Queen Lily.
Horace stood and moved towards Andy. “Let me come with you, Andy.”
“I’m sorry, Horace, no.” Andy reached out and took his hand. “You have to go back to Ben. He’s going to need you.”
“What about you, Andy? Let me come with you. I can defend you during your travels. I can take care of you.” Although they hadn’t know each other long, Horace had grown to care for the witch. He saw the shadows in her eyes and longed to chase them away.
“Horace, my friend, I can take care of myself.” Andy gently hugged Horace tucking her head under his chin. After a moment she stepped back and looked at him as if memorizing his face. “Ben is going to need you, now more than ever. An alliance with Milarna is going to make the other kingdoms nervous. One of them might get the crazy idea to attack before the alliance has a chance to solidify.”
“Is your magic prophesying now?” Horace’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
Andy shook her head. “No, I just know how people think. You need to be at King Benedict’s side to defend the kingdom. He trusts you more than all the other knights.”
Horace stepped towards the witch. “Andy, I would give up all of that to be with you. I ca-”
Andy reached up and placed two fingers over Horace’s mouth. “Horace, listen to me. You and I cannot be together. You need to go back to King Benedict. Please try to understand and do this for me.”
Horace took Andy’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Yes, My Lady.” Bowing deeply, he turned and strode out of the courtyard.
“He going to be okay, witch?” Pickwick wondered the same about his friend.
Resigned, she nodded, “Yeah, it happens.” After a moment she straightened her shoulders. “Let me take care of this and we can get on our way.” Andy walked back to the body. Waving her hand, Andy and the Black Knight disappeared.
By the time Pickwick retrieved his mount from an inner courtyard, Andy was back.
“It’s done. Come on, Pickwick.” Andy paused and took one more look around the courtyard before moving towards the gate.
Outside the walls, only Andy’s horse was tied to the bush. A note was tucked under the edge of the saddle. “My Lady,” she read “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Please know that if you need anything, you may call on me at any time. Your Champion, Sir Horace de Barlen.”
Andy untied the reins and tucked the note into her pocket. She nodded to Pickwick and mounted.
Pickwick watched Andy look out at the dust cloud rising to the east. Her expression was solemn. “You okay, witch?”
Andy nodded and wiped her eyes. She turned her back on Horace’s flight, and started her horse west.
Chapter 2 - Paying a Debt