The Shield and the Thorn, page 1
THE SHIELD AND THE THORN
C. J. BRIGHTLEY
CONTENTS
Also by C. J. Brightley
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
An Unexpected Guest
Chapter 2
Breakfast with a Fairy
Chapter 3
A Report to the King
Chapter 4
Repercussions
Chapter 5
A Quiet Afternoon
Chapter 6
An Autumn Squall
Chapter 7
Luncheon in the Garden
Chapter 8
A Meeting with the Fair King
Chapter 9
The Envoy of the Fair Court
Chapter 10
A Furious Storm
Chapter 11
The Shield
Chapter 12
The Search Continues
Chapter 13
Fading Hope
Chapter 14
A Desperate Dance
Chapter 15
A Terrible Price
Chapter 16
A Dangerous Game
Chapter 17
Fair Hospitality
Chapter 18
Gratitude
Chapter 19
Ambushed
Chapter 20
An Unexpected Invitation
Chapter 21
Introductions
Chapter 22
Waiting for the Rose
Chapter 23
Gracious Hospitality
Chapter 24
The Day of the Tea
Chapter 25
The Plan Takes Shape
Chapter 26
Grief and Encouragement
Chapter 27
Heartache and Solace
Chapter 28
Miss Firethorn is Called to Service
Chapter 29
A Convergence of Bargains
Chapter 30
The Cost and the Crown
Chapter 31
A Different Answer
Chapter 32
Home Again
Chapter 33
A Conversation with a Friend
Chapter 34
Strength Upon Strength
Afterword
About the Author
Sneak Peek
ALSO BY C. J. BRIGHTLEY
Erdemen Honor:
The King’s Sword
A Cold Wind
Honor’s Heir
* * *
A Long-Forgotten Song:
Things Unseen
The Dragon’s Tongue
The Beginning of Wisdom
* * *
Fairy King:
A Fairy King
A Fairy Promise
* * *
The Wraith:
The Wraith and the Rose
* * *
Other Works:
The Lord of Dreams
Twelve Days of (Faerie) Christmas
Heroes and Other Stories
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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THE SHIELD AND THE THORN. Copyright 2022 by C. J. Brightley. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information contact info@cjbrightley.com.
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Paperback ISBN 978-1-954768-03-1
Hardback ISBN 978-1-954768-04-8
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Published in the United States of America by Spring Song Press, LLC.
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www.cjbrightley.com
* * *
Cover design by Kerry Jesberger of Aero Gallerie.
For my delightfully wonderful children,
Natalie and Timothy.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, thank you, thank you! Sarah, Constance, Janice, and Suebee, thank you for all your helpful comments and encouragement. I am so thankful to be surrounded by such kind, generous, wonderful friends.
CHAPTER 1
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST
Lord Fenton Selby raised his hands placatingly. “I would much prefer not to be punctured, my lady. What exactly do you want from me?”
“I want Juniper Morel!” She glared at him fiercely.
Lord Selby took another cautious step backward and found to his dismay that he had been backed into a large rose bush and could not easily retreat farther. The sword point jabbed the hollow at the base of his throat as he swallowed.
“I do not know what you mean by that,” he said carefully. “Is it a plant?”
Her brilliant blue eyes flashed. “Where is Juniper Morel?”
“I cannot say, since I do not know what you mean.” Lord Selby did, in fact, know exactly where young Juniper Morel was, but he was not about to betray the fairy to this woman.
She was nearly as tall as he was, though she was willowy and slender in comparison to his broad-shouldered strength. The faintest edge of glamour caught his eye, but he could not tell what she was doing with it. It might have been as minor as darkening her hair color one shade to better set off her blue eyes. If she were one of the Fair Folk, she might have changed her appearance completely. Fair glamours were too skillful for a human to tell even what they did, much less see through them.
However, it was clear that she must be a fairy, for she held the sword with too much familiarity to be a human woman. Women of Valestria did not train with swords; if one had, for her own reasons, it was unlikely that she was also this skilled at glamour, and tall and willowy like a fairy besides.
Juniper had much to fear from fairies, though he was one himself. He had faithfully served Lord Selby’s friend Theodore Overton, IV, as Theo had carried out his courageous rescues of Arichtan children and even more audacious strategem to end the kidnappings permanently. When Juniper had been discovered some three months earlier, he had fled into the veil between the Fair Lands and the human world, and eventually had found refuge with Theo and his parents, Sir Theodore, III, Baronet, and Lady Overton.
Lord Selby had just returned from the Overton estate some three miles away, having ascertained that Theo, after having somehow pulled a bloody triumph from what appeared to be disaster, was now blissfully drunk on Lord Cedar Mosswing’s healing magic and deliriously pleased with the world in general and his wife in particular. Fenton had also aided Theo, though not as much as he had wanted to. The veil had taken an especially strong disliking to him for unknown reasons, and Theo had adamantly refused to take him on a fourth rescue mission after the veil had tried to choke him to death. Again.
The fairy woman glowered at him. Her glower was as beautiful as the point of her sword was sharp, and Fenton took a deep, slow breath.
“While I cannot aid you in your search, I will gladly offer you hospitality this evening, if you would so honor me,” he said carefully.
She tilted her head and studied him. “Why would you do that?” she said at last, withdrawing the point of the sword half an inch.
“I’m a gentleman,” Fenton said kindly. “And you appear to be far from home.”
“Why do you say that?” Her blue eyes glittered dangerously.
Perhaps voicing that thought had been a mistake. With Theo so recently on his mind, Fenton decided to take a page from his friend’s strategy by diving right on in to the mistake and brazening it out rather than attempting to backtrack. “Your glamour is exceptionally good,” Fenton said. “I guessed you might be one of the Fair Folk. I do apologize if I have offended you.”
She straightened and stared at him, withdrawing the sword point further. “How can you tell I’m wearing a glamour?” She sounded so confused that Fenton felt a little more confident.
“I can just see the edges a little,” he said, sounding vaguely apologetic. “The rest was conjecture. A Valestrian lady wouldn’t know how to hold a sword as well as you do, for one thing.”
She frowned at him and dropped the sword to her side. “I still want Juniper Morel,” she said fiercely, as if angry at herself. Then, under her breath, she added, “He must be so frightened.”
“Is it a he, then?” Fenton asked carefully.
“My cousin,” she sighed. “Why would you offer hospitality to someone who threatened you with a sword? I do know how to use it.”
Fenton smiled and lowered his hands slowly. “I think if you wanted to stick me with it, you’d likely have done so already. Anyway, I have a large house and a dozen empty guest rooms. You can eat dinner in the second dining room and stay the night and never even see me, if you desire.”
She tilted her head. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you have a large house with a dozen empty guest rooms? Did you steal it from someone?”
Fenton blinked and stared at her. “No. I inherited it. My father passed away three years ago. My mother lives with me, but other than her, the servants, and me, the house is empty.”
The woman glanced around. “What is your name?” she said. “Where is this?”
“Lord Fenton Selby, The Marquess of Ambervale. This is my back door. We’re not far from Ardmond, the capital.”
“So I am in Valestria?”
Fenton nodded.
“What is Ambervale?”
“The p
Not that he had no prospects at all. There were, of course, families of lesser means or status who would be delighted to attach their name to his, and there had been no shortage of young ladies being paraded before him at the various social engagements of the Ardmond season. But he had held out for someone irresistible, like Theo had found in Lily, someone delightful in heart as well as appearance.
“The season?” The lady stared at him. “It is the end of summer, or the beginning of autumn, depending on how you count the seasons and their changes. Is it different in Valestria?”
“The social season,” Fenton clarified. “The season of endless parties at which young ladies and gentlemen are expected to pair off in happy couples. The first of the weddings for this season was four weeks ago, and others will follow soon.” There was no bitterness in his voice, only a gentle, restrained melancholy that no one who did not know him well would hear at all.
“Are you marrying someone then?”
The directness of the question startled him, and he said, “No.”
The woman looked him up and down. “You’re already married?”
“No.”
“If the offer is still open, I believe I will accept it,” she said.
Surprised, he blinked and then said, “It is. May I ask what prompted that decision?”
The corners of her mouth lifted in a soft, amused smile. “Someone who answers such questions so patiently after being threatened is probably mostly trustworthy, and it would be convenient both to have more questions answered over dinner, and have a place to sleep tonight before I continue the search.”
Fenton nodded. “You are welcome. If I might open my door, please?”
She hesitated, then stepped back and sheathed the sword at last. “You may.”
He opened the door and stepped aside to let her enter first. She did so, moving to the side immediately so she could keep her eyes on him as he entered in turn.
He offered his arm, and she glanced at it, then at him curiously. “What is that for?” she said cautiously.
“It is courteous to offer a lady one’s arm when acting as host.” He found himself amused by the whole situation, including his own reaction to it. He had always had an even temper, and, like all Valestrian nobility, had had courtesy ingrained in him since birth. The absurdity of being threatened at swordpoint by a Fair lady at his own back door, after being told he could not accompany Theo on any more rescues because of the danger, tested the limits of his serious demeanor, tempting him to laugh at the world as Theo did.
Having been blessed in looks, name, title, and wealth, he did seem to have been particularly unlucky of late.
“Is it?” She eyed him cautiously, then placed her hand on his arm as if it might turn into a snake and bite her at any moment.
He escorted her through the first floor to one of the many guest suites. Her blue skirt rustled softly as she walked, and her hand was so light upon his arm he barely felt the touch at all.
Fenton opened the door and gestured for her to enter first.
“There is a water closet through that door where you may refresh yourself before dinner, if you would like.”
She stepped in and slipped away from him cautiously, then strode to the window.
“The window looks upon the eastern garden, and the morning light is lovely. Do you need anything before dinner?”
She turned to look at him with a steady, evaluating gaze. “No, thank you,” she said quietly.
“Please excuse me a moment. I will let Richard know that I have a guest.”
Lord Selby bowed slightly as he stepped out of the room. He left the door open as he strode away.
What a strange evening!
Richard, his manservant, was waiting in the foyer with a curious look on his face.
“She’s staying for the night. Please ask Millie to prepare a meal for her at dinner.”
“Who is she?” Richard asked with interest.
“I have no earthly idea,” said Fenton. “One of the Fair Folk, although you probably should keep that to yourself.”
“One of Lord Willowvale’s?”
“I doubt it. His assistants all seem better versed in Valestrian court manners. But it is wise to be cautious.” With this, he immediately went to his study and dashed off a quick note.
Theo, a Fair lady has come to my estate seeking J. I’ve offered hospitality for the night and do not know how long she will stay. Please keep J. safely out of sight until I have ascertained her motives.
Fen
He sent it with one of the young stable boys, along with an admonition to accept tea and refreshments at the Overton household if such were offered.
Fenton then went to wash his face and refresh himself before dinner.
When dinner was ready only a short time later, he went back to his guest’s door and knocked.
She opened it. “Yes?” she said cautiously.
“Dinner is ready.”
“Thank you.” She accepted his arm with a smile, and he could not help smiling in return, equally bemused by the situation.
He held out her chair for her, but she stared at him. “I’d rather not have you behind me,” she said apologetically. “I’ve heard humans can lie, and if you can lie, I assume you can be equally deceptive in other ways.”
“We can, indeed.” Fenton nodded. “As a beautiful young lady traveling alone, such caution is certainly warranted. But you will find no such danger in my home.” He meant it, too, whether she believed it or not. Nevertheless, he stepped away, for it was certainly more courteous to make a lady comfortable than to insist upon performing actions for one’s own pride. He waited by his chair for her to sit first, which she did with a perplexed look.
“What may I call you, my lady?” asked Fenton as Richard placed spinach and strawberry salads in front of them.
She looked at him steadily without answering for a moment, her clear blue eyes thoughtful. Finally she said, “Crocus Firethorn. Juniper is the only son of my cousin, who died several years ago. He has no one to look after him.”
“He’s a fairy, then?” Fenton inquired mildly. It was widely understood that fairies could not lie, and Crocus’ concern seemed genuine. But the Fair Court was also known for exceptionally intricate games of deception among the nobility, and most humans did not know enough to hold their own against a fairy in a game of twisting words. It would not do to betray Juniper now, when Theo had already wrested victory from defeat.
“Yes. You’re sure you don’t know anything of his whereabouts?” the young lady asked again, daintily dabbing her rose-pink lips with her napkin.
Fenton shook his head regretfully. “I am afraid I can be of no help. Why do you seek him?”
“I heard he was in danger.” The lady’s eyes held his.
Fenton looked up at Richard, signaling that they were ready for the next course, a cold cucumber soup.
“Since I have already guessed you are a fairy, may I ask to see your true face?” Fenton asked. He felt it rather bold, but then the situation was already strange.
