what are you going to do about Tavis?”
Brianna regarded the battered firbolg at her feet. “What do you mean?”
“Heal him!” Avner demanded. “You are a priestess-or have you forgotten?”
Brianna’s insides turned cold and queasy. “I remember,” she said. “But I haven’t been feeling well. I–I can’t do it.”
The boy’s mouth gaped open. “Then it’s true!” he cried. “You don’t love him!”
“Love him?” Brianna echoed. The haze was starting to gather in her mind again. “Love my bodyguard?”
“Is that all Tavis is to you?” Avner retorted. “Someone to save you from ogres, or to fight stone giants and spy on frost giants while you make love to Prince Arlien?”
Cuthbert interposed himself between Brianna and the youth. “See here, young man! You will show the queen the proper respect, or you can share a dungeon cell with your thieving verbeeg friend!”
“The dungeon?” Avner gasped. “You put Basil down there?”
“The earl had no choice.” The queen swept Cuthbert aside and scowled at the youth, then found herself struggling to keep hold of her slippery thoughts. “And what I do… or don’t do… with Prince Arlien-that should not concern you, young man. But your imagination… your imagination seems to have gotten out of hand.” Brianna was trying to sound indignant, but found the task difficult, her thoughts flitting off in all directions.
“So you don’t love the prince?” Avner asked.
“What did I… didn’t I just say that?”
“Prove it,” the youth demanded. “Heal Tavis.”
Cuthbert was at Avner’s side again, taking him by the arm. “Can’t you hear, boy?” he demanded. “The queen said she hasn’t been feeling well.”
Avner jerked away from the earl and stepped forward until he stood almost on Brianna’s feet. “She looks well enough to me. Besides, the queen I remember would’ve crawled off her deathbed to heal Tavis Burdun.” The youth glared up at her as he spoke. “But maybe that was my imagination, too.”
The youth’s accusatory tone should have angered Brianna, but it did not. Instead, the queen found herself filled with emotions she did not understand, her stomach churning with guilt and her heart aching with shame. She did not understand why, but the feelings were so intense that she almost could not hide them.
“Get me some water,” Brianna said. “I’ll try.”
Avner rushed down the rampart. The queen went over and kneeled at her bodyguard’s side. During the past year, Brianna’s goddess had blessed her with many new healing powers, but the firbolg was such a mess that even if she could call on them, he would still be far from whole. The burns, which had begun to ooze and peel, were the most grotesque of his many injuries, but the queen worried more about the tremendous lump she found on his skull. The head injury was undoubtedly the cause of his unconsciousness, and also the most likely to prove fatal. She would try mending it first.
Avner returned and set a sloshing bucket at the scout’s side. Brianna unclasped her silver necklace, from which hung the flaming spear symbol of her goddess. She placed this talisman inside the bucket, then turned her eyes toward the sky.
“Valorous Hiatea, bless this water with your magic, so that it may purify this warrior’s spirit and make him worthy of your healing magic.”
A gentle gurgle arose as the water began to bubble and churn, spewing a cloud of white vapor into the air.
“You can still heal him,” Avner said.
“Blessing the water is not the same as healing the patient,” countered Brianna. “It merely shows that Hiatea looks favorably on my entreaty, not that I will succeed.”
The queen took her talisman from the bucket, then dumped the steaming contents over her patient’s injuries. Dark bubbles frothed up from his many wounds, covering his singed body with a thick, brown-streaked foam that would cleanse his spirit of wicked thoughts and emotions.
While Brianna waited for the blessed water to do its work, alarmed cries and yells began to ring out from ramparts at the front of the castle. The clamor was followed by the resounding clatter of a dozen firing catapults.
“That would be the frost giants coming into view,” said Brianna.
Cuthbert nodded, looking as though he might faint. “Selwyn is commanding the gatehouse,” he said. “He’ll keep us informed.”
A loud bang reverberated through the castle as the first of the giant’s boulders crashed into the wall. It struck with such force that Brianna felt the rampart shudder under her feet. Another stone hit, then another and another, until a steady, drumlike cadence filled the air. The rhythm was punctuated every now and then by the clack of a catapult returning fire.
Brianna glanced toward the front wall. “I hope your masons have kept the curtain in good repair, Earl.”
“I hope so, too,” he said.
The queen cringed at the apprehensive reply and turned to her patient. The water had stopped frothing. Brianna held her talisman against the lump on her bodyguard’s head, but before she could cast the spell, a runner came rushing down the rampart. He stopped before Brianna and bowed.
“Captain Selwyn begs to report that Prince Arlien has returned,” the soldier panted.
“Arlien?” Brianna gasped. Her hands grew sweaty so that the talisman slipped from her grasp, and the fog inside her head grew as dense as a snow cloud. Her thoughts raced blindly through the gray murk, and she asked, “The prince… Arlien has returned?”
The messenger nodded. “He should be inside the castle within minutes,” the man reported. “He’s crossing the bridge now.”
“With the queen’s army?” Cuthbert’s voice was full of hope.
“No, Milord, not with him,” the messenger replied, his voice mirroring the earl’s optimism. “But he was shouting something. We couldn’t hear it over the battle din.”
“It must be news of our reinforcements!” Cuthbert faced Brianna, his arms raised as though he might embrace her. “Majesty, your army must be right behind the prince!”
“Only if they’re chasing him,” Avner scoffed. “Tell Selwyn to keep the gate closed.”
The glee drained from Cuthbert’s face. He grabbed the boy and spun him around, demanding, “What are you saying?”
“Arlien’s a spy.” The boy pulled free. “He told the giants about Shepherd’s Nightmare and almost got Tavis killed.”
“I don’t believe that… it can’t be true,” Brianna said. The words seemed to flow out of her haze-filled mind straight into her mouth. “It could have been anyone… What proof do you have that Arlien has… that the prince is a…”
The queen let the question trail off, unable to utter the suggestion that Arlien had betrayed her.
“What proof do I have that Arlien’s a traitor?” the youth asked. “How about your ice diamonds? He’s been using them to charm you. That’s why you’re defending him.”
Cuthbert turned to Brianna. “Are you wearing the necklace now, Milady?”
Brianna opened the collar of her cloak and displayed her bare throat. She said nothing.
Cuthbert looked back to Avner. “It appears you’re wrong about the ice diamonds. Do you have any other proof?” he demanded. “And be certain of yourself. The prince may be risking his life to bring us word of the queen’s army. Knowing what he has to say could save my castle-and your life.”
Avner pointed at the unconscious scout. “Do you need more proof than that?”
“You saw Arlien do this?” the earl demanded.
Avner remained silent for a moment, then looked Cuthbert squarely in eye. “That’s right.”
The earl looked doubtful. “Tell me, what weapon did Arlien use?” Cuthbert pointed at the scout’s seared flesh. “I don’t recall the prince hurling fireballs about”
Avner’s eyes widened. “It was his hammer!” the boy said, too quickly. “He shot a tongue of flame-”
The earl raised his hand. “Young man, I’ve been listening to liars for decades,” he said. “And you’re just good enough that I can’t trust a thing you say.”
Avner’s mouth fell open.
Cuthbert turned to Brianna. “What do you think, Majesty?” he asked. “This boy isn’t the first liar to accuse
