“Yes, your Grace. He may have had Adhna since he left on his mission, but I couldn’t discover the details. Suffice to say, Bodach will use this to his advantage.”
“Son of a diseased donkey! There’s no telling what that creature has done to him.”
Grimnaugh glanced up and his gaze flicked to the platter of fruits the servants had brought. She gestured for him to help himself. He picked up one of the tart, fleshy, yellow fruits and bit deep, the juice dribbling down his chin. After he wiped it with his sleeve, he said, “Adhna is a strong Fae. He’s been in similar situations in the past, though with a Queen rather than a Consort. Still, Bodach’s mind is twisted, and he delights in pain.”
Clíodhna narrowed her eyes at her assistant. “So I’ve noticed. We need to save him, Grimnaugh.”
A doubtful expression crossed his face. “That isn’t as easy as you make it sound. Bodach is well-versed with imprisoning powerful beings.”
She stood, pacing around the small chamber several times before speaking. “There is no doubt of your information?”
“None, your Grace. If I had any doubt, I would have told you.”
Clíodhna had killed nothing but a few deer or rabbits in her life. At the moment, however, she imagined her hands around Bodach’s neck, squeezing the life out of his treacherous soul. She wanted to see him beg and scream for his life, and she wanted to deny him that boon.
Unclenching her fists, she turned back to Grimnaugh. “We need a plan. I suppose it’s a lucky thing we now have the pledged loyalty of most of my higher Fae and Queen Grian.”
“Not luck, my Queen. Sound planning on your part.”
She waved the comment away. “Whichever, it will prove most useful in our task. Adhna is well liked by most of the high court. Every session, someone is asking after Adhna and when he plans on returning. I can use that high regard to spur action.”
He squinted up at her. “What are you thinking?”
Clíodhna set her mouth in a hard line. “I’m thinking Bodach will not give up Adhna without a battle. He has a purpose in holding my lover, and he’s biding his time to use that when he wants to. I don’t mean to give him that advantage.”
Grimnaugh finished his fruit and tossed the pit onto the platter. “Go on.”
She rubbed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea where Adhna is being held?”
“Bodach has a stronghold on the border, near Grian’s realm. I’ve only been there once, long ago, and hope never to repeat the experience. A nasty place.”
“And are you certain Adhna is there? Nasty how?”
“Yes, he is there. My agent in Bodach’s guards assured me he’s seen Adhna in the bowels of the fortress. As for the nastiness, Bodach has infected the surrounding land with death. Nothing lives, not even in the very soil.”
A muscle in her jaw twitched. “He made a place in the mortal realm like that. A pit where he held Adhna. He must have done it again, but in Faerie.”
“The place is well-defended, your Grace. He has a great deal of followers and resources. Rescuing Adhna won’t be easy.”
Clíodhna placed her hands on her hips. She must construct a plan. She thought back to the wars between the gods and what their tactical details might tell her. Many of the tales told of great clashes between the Fir Bolg and the Tuatha Dé Dannan, and while these might be legends, they might hold clues to help her construct a battle plan.
“Do any of my loyal court have battle experience?”
Grimnaugh pursed his frog-lips in consideration. “While your greatest asset would have been Sanna, who you just exiled to the mortal realm, I judge Gabha to be a superior strategist.”
Clíodhna scoured her memory of her loyal Fae, and one popped into mind. “Gabha? Is he the bronze smith I met when I first arrived at court? The stout Fae with black skin?”
“That’s correct, your Grace.”
“Excellent. Send him to me so we might discuss our options. We must make certain we can win before we storm his fortress. Can you describe his defenses? How many troops does he have, and what are their strengths and weaknesses?”
“Not yet, but I can find out, your Grace.”
“Do that and come back to me with all the information you can gather. Other than being dead, I want details of the terrain, the approaches, and their defensibility. What weapons he might command, both magical and mundane. We’ll ask Gabha what other details might be useful for our initiative.”
Grimnaugh left to fetch Gabha and Clíodhna stewed about what else she might have to do. She must call in her favor from Grian for this, as Bodach’s dead lands marched along Grian’s border. Grian might even be glad of the opportunity to rid them both of his power, if they succeeded.
Gabha, his dark skin glistening in the low light, bowed as he entered. “How may I help you, my Queen?”
* * *
Clíodhna reflected that Cerul had been most accommodating. She’d summoned true wind and weather in Faerie, and even a thunderstorm on the horizon. Clíodhna might use this weather more easily than any other power, even the land itself, and felt easier for having it available.
She stood astride her horse, feeling silly in the frilly decorations over the battle armor. Her courtiers had draped both her and the horse with bronze armor so heavily, they could barely move, but Gabha insisted she be well-protected on the battlefield. While she had ridden horses all her life, it had taken much practice to learn how to both ride the horse and stay astride with all the armor. Her determination held her in good stead.
This Faerie mount spoke in her mind, and had been
