Authors: Katherine Irons
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Chick-Lit, #Mythology
Seaborne (7 page)
If only she could find her birth mother … Deep inside, Claire knew that she hadn’t given her up because she didn’t love her. Whoever she was—wherever she was, her mother would understand.
At least Claire hoped her biological mother would be more loving than Elaine had been. The most she’d ever received from her father’s wife was a cool indifference and strict rules about not leaving the nursery wing unless she was accompanied by her nanny. If Richard was in residence, which was rare because her father had traveled extensively during her childhood, he spoiled her rotten. He insisted she have breakfast and supper with the adults and be introduced when there were guests. When Richard was away, Elaine preferred her to be invisible.
When she was very small, Claire could remember a beloved stuffed pony that she’d slept with every night. She toted Nay-Nay everywhere and carried on endless conversations, where she spoke for both herself and the toy. But one afternoon, when she was five, her nanny took her shopping for new riding boots. She was so excited about the purchase that she’d forgotten Nay-Nay and left him on the bathroom floor.
When they returned to the penthouse, Claire was feeling out of sorts and feverish. Badly wanting her snuggle buddy, she ran to find Nay-Nay, but the stuffed pony was nowhere to be found. She remembered racing from room to room, crying and calling his name. She’d been so upset that she’d vomited all over the new black leather boots and one of Elaine’s prize Tibetan prayer rugs.
Her mother had so been furious that she’d smacked her across the face. Claire could still remember the shock of being struck for the first time. She barely remembered being bathed and banished to bed. The following day, Richard came home and called a pediatrician who confirmed a severe case of German measles. Her father had sat rocking her for hours while she wept, still inconsolable over the loss of her favorite toy.
Later, she’d learned of the pony’s fate when she overheard the maid and cook discussing Nay-Nay’s mysterious disappearance. Elaine had discovered the toy on the bathroom floor, carried it to the garbage chute, and tossed it, saying that it was high time that Claire learned to not to leave her belongings carelessly strewn around the penthouse. She had never forgiven Elaine.
Now, staring out over the white caps, something still ached deep inside for that child. She’d imagined many fates for Nay-Nay over the years. Maybe a garbage collector had rescued him and taken him home to his own little girl, who’d loved him and slept with him every night. Or, perhaps, Nay-Nay hadn’t been a stuffed toy at all. He might have been magic, as Richard had said. The pony might have come to life, scrambled out of the garbage truck, and set off on a world of adventures. He might even have made it back to the North Pole where Santa’s elves had sewn up his boo-boos and given him a new mane and tail. It was possible that Nay-Nay had flown in Santa’s sleigh and ended up under a Christmas tree for a second time. Every Christmas morning, Claire had hoped that she’d find Nay-Nay there, all new and soft, and smelling of pine boughs, but he never was.
She’d waited in vain for her stuffed pony, just as she was waiting in vain for Morgan to return to her. She was a woman now, not a small child, but she felt just as helpless and every bit as heartbroken.
“Do you realize the position you’ve put me in?” Poseidon demanded.
“I do, Father,” Morgan answered, “and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stand by and watch the boy drown.”
The two stood on a balcony off his father’s private apartments overlooking the wide, columned avenue that ran from the walled palace gardens to the forum. One of the most beautiful sections of Atlantis spread before them: the Library of Light, the Hall of Justice, the Old College of Science, and the twin Centers for Healing. In the distance, Morgan could make out the stepped pyramid that housed the Hall of Poetry and the great Silver Tower.
The city was immense, spreading out for three miles in every direction.
Morgan always felt humbled when he viewed Atlantis from these heights. How could anyone expect him to rule over this ancient civilization with the wisdom and dedication his father had?
“A human?” the king shouted. “The race that murdered your mother? You have pity for one of them?”
Morgan nodded. “For a child, yes.”
“Have you forgotten her death?”
How could he forget? His mother had taken him on a journey to see the splendors of the land of ice at the top of the world. He might not remember her features, but he could recall her soft voice as she’d shown him icebergs and glaciers, powerful white bears, and a myriad of sea creatures that lived under the pack ice.
She’d taught him how to control his body so that he could leave the sea and walk on the surface. And when a whaling ship appeared, she warned him of the treachery of humans. The ice was too thick to dive to safety, and the hole they had come up through was in the distance. In desperation, his mother had cast a net of illusion, so that the men wouldn’t see them in their true forms, but as seals. It had been a fatal mistake. The humans had fired a harpoon that pierced her heart.
She could have used her healing powers to maintain her life force until she could scramble back to the water’s edge. Instead, she ordered him to flee. Her spell protected him until he reached safety, but she could not protect herself. Her illusion wavered, and she returned to her true form.
Crying that they had shot a mermaid, the sailors dragged her body onto the ship. He supposed that the humans meant to take his mother back to their own land to display as a trophy, but he couldn’t allow that. Too small to sink the ship himself, Morgan had summoned up a pod of killer whales.
Although the killer whales were another race not to be trusted, the human hunters were a greater enemy. The leader of the pod directed his strongest males to ram the hull of the ship. It had not taken many blows to crack the timbers and send the frigid water pouring into the hold. The ship and all hands were lost to the deep, but there was no reviving his beloved mother. She, queen of Atlantis, most beautiful and gentle of all mothers, was lost to him.
“Have you forgotten?” Poseidon repeated.
Morgan blinked back stinging moisture. “Never.”
On any other subject but humans, his father was reasonable. But he had more patience with a flesh-eating bacteria or a primeval slime slug than a land dweller. Morgan had mourned his mother; in some ways he still did, but he didn’t blame all humans for those who had murdered her. And he didn’t want to imagine what his father would think about his desire for a human woman … for his emotional attachment to Claire.
“Do you believe that I can treat you differently than I would treat an Atlantean who wasn’t my son? My heir?”
Morgan shook his head. “I didn’t come here to ask for special treatment or to beg forgiveness.” He hadn’t seen Poseidon in months, and he was surprised to see that much of his father’s beard was now as white as his long, curling locks of hair. He was by no means old, not by Atlantean standards, still strong and virile with the stamina of a man half his age. Alex had mentioned that their father had just taken a new wife, number seventeen, and she was already quickening with child.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t, for you’ll not receive it,” Poseidon declared. “A king must not put himself or his family above the law. You’re not my only son, you know.”
“Yes, my lord.” Morgan nodded his head slightly in agreement. “Doubtless, you have many sons more worthy than I.”
“By Zeus’s shaft there are! A quiver full.”
Of that Morgan was well aware. He acknowledged twenty-two sisters and more than thirty brothers. Boys outnumbered the girls, although most of the younger children were girls. Not all were in line for the throne. It would be a male who assumed Poseidon’s throne when his father grew too old to govern. In some of the far-flung colonies, among other species of water dwellers, women could inherit the crown, but not in Atlantis. It was their custom that a king pass on the crown while he still lived, so that he could be certain of his heir. The eldest was the usual choice, but not always.
“Look at me when I speak to you.”
Biting back his resentment, Morgan turned to face his father. Dressed in full court attire, Poseidon was an impressive sight. His toga was gold, his sandals set with glittering emeralds. He wore a wide golden torque and armbands, each covered with ancient and mystical symbols. For formal occasions, such as the hearing before the council, he would don a magnificent crown, but he didn’t need a crown to mark him as king. His carriage, his steely expression, his utter confidence left no doubt as to his rank.
But when Morgan’s gaze fixed on his father’s face, he saw tears trickling down his cheeks. Shocked speechless, Morgan’s breath caught in his throat.
“More worthy, perhaps. Sons wiser or bolder,” Poseidon said, dropping his voice to a low growl. “But none that I love as I love you.” He threw out his massive arms and hugged Morgan. “For all my hard words …” The king cleared his throat, hugged his son once more and released him. “But you’re still too soft where humans are concerned.”
“Perhaps not all humans are our enemies.”
“All!” Poseidon stepped away from him. “You are as stubborn as always. May it give you consolation when you are found guilty and imprisoned for ten years in some ice block in the Antarctic.”
CHAPTER 7
T
he Hall of Justice was crowded with Morgan’s brothers and sisters, his aunts and uncles and cousins, as well as nobles and public officials of every rank, all garbed in their finest attire. Of all the state buildings, Morgan had always thought this one the most beautiful.
he Hall of Justice was crowded with Morgan’s brothers and sisters, his aunts and uncles and cousins, as well as nobles and public officials of every rank, all garbed in their finest attire. Of all the state buildings, Morgan had always thought this one the most beautiful.
Sixty-foot pillars carved of glistening, black marble supported an arched ceiling decorated with scenes of coral reefs and sea life. The white marble walls framed swirls of white marble flooring, accented with black. Great filigreed, oval-shaped windows stretched from floor to ceiling, paned with sheets of iridescent shell that cast waves of shimmering light across the vast interior. So carefully had the vast building been engineered, that the acoustics were a marvel, making certain that every word spoken from the royal dais or the High Council’s round stage could be heard in the farthest row.
Across the chamber, in the raised boxes reserved for Poseidon’s wives and children, Caddoc’s mother, the Lady Halimeda, sat among her family and supporters. As usual, she wore not the customary white for the Hall of Justice, but all black. Glorying in her attentive audience, she pretended nonchalance as she fed tidbits to a red octopus that undulated over one shoulder and wrapped thin tentacles around her body. Since the box and railing were white marble and the others in her group were garbed in white, Lady Halimeda and her pet drew the gazes of all who entered.
Morgan knew that she had noticed him as well. He made a point of halting and nodding to her with exaggerated respect. She glared back at him, turned her head sharply, and murmured something to her nearest lady-in-waiting. Her companions snickered.
Many courtiers considered Halimeda a great beauty with her long, ink-black hair and sensual body, but Morgan never had. Her smile was too artificial, her pale blue eyes too cold. She was younger than his stepmother, but Morgan had always felt Queen Korinna the more attractive of the two. Certainly, she was more loved by her subjects. One thing Halimeda lacked was a kind heart.
Perhaps
, Morgan thought,
the lady has no heart at all
.
Perhaps
, Morgan thought,
the lady has no heart at all
.
Caddoc was there in the front row, with Jason beside him. Morgan didn’t see the Samoan, but he may not have been admitted as he couldn’t prove his rank. In the trial of one of the royal family, only those of noble blood were admitted. Morgan spotted Alexandros and Orion with his favorite sister Morwena. She waved, and threw him a kiss.
The king’s throne sat empty, but the queen had already taken her place on the dais and was talking to the vizier. Morgan had visited her briefly after he’d seen his father, and she’d welcomed him as though he was of her own blood. The queen had given birth to four girls and three boys over the years. Morwena was the eldest and Morgan adored her.
On either side of Queen Korinna stood priests, priestesses, and other dignitaries. In the center of the chamber on a raised platform sat the revered members of the High Council, the wisest noblemen and women of the kingdom who would hear the charges, his guilty plea, and decide his fate.
Morgan knew every person on the council, including the Lady Halimeda’s brother, Lord Pelagias. Morgan didn’t particularly like him, but his judgments were always fair. A guilty or innocent vote had to be unanimous but, in sentencing a defendant who pleaded guilty, the majority ruled. Sitting next to Lord Pelagias was the chief justice, the lovely Lady Athena. If there was one vote in his favor Morgan could be certain of, it would be hers. She was his mother’s cousin and well-liked for her gentle heart and willingness to stand firm when she believed in a decision. In addition, the Lady Athena was known for her sympathy toward humans.
Today, Morgan had put aside his sharkskin kilt and sandals. Instead, he wore pure white, a short toga in the same style that the Greeks had copied from the Atlanteans long ago. This was a solemn occasion, and one not even royalty could take lightly. In Atlantis, Poseidon was king, but the monarch’s duty was to serve his people and see that laws were obeyed. If the court decided against Morgan, his father’s wishes counted for nothing. Not that Morgan looked for any leniency from the king. Despite his father’s rare show of affection today, Poseidon was still displeased with him. So it had been since he was a child.
Sentinels announced the high king’s approach with a blast of conch shells and a roll of drumbeats. The queen glanced up and smiled as Poseidon strode across the chamber and took his place beside her. No palace guard or warriors accompanied him; they were forbidden to enter the Hall of Justice unless they were noblemen or women witnessing the trial as citizens.
Morgan waited impatiently as the vizier made a speech welcoming Poseidon and his queen and telling everyone present what they already knew. They had assembled to witness the sentencing of the crown prince for a serious violation of the law against consorting with humans.
Zale, a tall, dignified man with dark hair and eyes of a particular violet hue, had the voice of a lion. He used his full range of vocal talent to remind those present that although the people of earth originated in the sea, the two races were now divided by eons of history. He recounted the facts that the humans had lost their glittering blue scales and assumed a smooth, nearly hairless skin—that their hands and feet no longer aided them in swimming, and they had lost the ability to breathe underwater.
“All these things the humans have lost, and yet they consider the Atlanteans, their sea cousins, to be monsters. Living on the surface of the earth has made humans weak of body and sick in spirit. Some of them even consider us to be nothing more than myth. This falsehood must be encouraged because the safety of every man, woman, and child in Atlantis depends on keeping the kingdom a secret from the land-dwelling barbarians.”
Morgan choked back his impatience and waited respectfully for Zale to finish his speech. The vizier was a good man, intelligent, pure of heart, and faithful to the crown. He also loved to hear the sound of his own voice. Any other time, Morgan would be more forgiving, but he wanted this over with. Even today, facing disgrace and possible imprisonment, all he could think of was getting back to Claire.
“Humans are ignorant creatures,” the vizier continued. “Polluting the earth and sea, killing for killing’s sake, plundering without conscience… .”
After Zale had covered all the sins of human mankind and moved on to the dangers of trusting them, the queen interrupted him by rising to her feet and beginning to clap. One after another, the assembly stood, applauding and calling out their approval of the vizier’s words. Drowned out by acclamation and praise, Zale smacked his staff of state three times on the floor and bowed to the High Council.
“Thank you, Vizier,” Poseidon said. “Well said, well said.” He signaled for another round of applause, and Zale returned to his place behind the king’s throne, obviously well-pleased with himself.
Lady Athena, current chief justice of the High Council read the formalities of the charge and Morgan’s plea of guilty. She waved him forward, asking him to explain, as concisely as possible, what had happened and why he had chosen to break the law to save a human.
Morgan complied, explaining how he’d used illusion to protect his identity and finished with the simple truth, the same statement he’d made to his brothers and father: “I couldn’t stand by and see an innocent child drown needlessly. Under the same circumstances, I would do exactly the same thing again.”
“Do you ask for the High Council’s mercy?” Lady Athena demanded.
“I do,” Morgan replied. “Not for me, but for the boy. He isn’t our enemy.”
“But he will be!” shouted Caddoc. “Prince Morgan has broken the law and shows no remorse.”
“My nephew, Caddoc, speaks the truth,” bellowed Lord Pelagias.
“Is Morgan above the law because he is a prince?” cried Lord Baeddan, another member of the council.
Other voices called out, some in Morgan’s favor, others against. It was the custom that any nobleman or woman could speak before a decision and chaos often reigned before a vote was taken. But no one, least of all Morgan, expected the king to make a statement.
“I say he is guilty,” Poseidon declared. A wave of shocked gasps, whispers, and cries of disbelief passed through the ranks of onlookers. Even the queen went suddenly pale.
Morgan kept his features immobile, trying to maintain his dignity, hoping the pain that knifed through him didn’t show.
Father,
he thought.
Father …
Father,
he thought.
Father …
“I say my son is guilty, for this is not the first time this sort of transgression has occurred,” the king continued. “Guilty of having a tender heart. Whether this is a good thing in a future monarch or not, that’s for each of you to decide. For me, I have my own thoughts. I have never interfered in the High Council’s trials before, and I, Poseidon, will not do so today. But as a father, who loves his firstborn, I ask for mercy. Perhaps, next time, he may allow his head to rule his heart.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then the nobility and court alike rose and clapped to show approval. Morgan, alone, did not shout out the king’s name. His throat tightened with emotion. He knew what the act had cost his father, and he loved him all the more for his courage.
“Poseidon! Poseidon! Poseidon!”
The decision, once order resumed, was a foregone conclusion and Morgan let out a sigh of relief. Lady Athena pronounced a formal admonition that Prince Morgan was found guilty, but worthy of mercy. This time he would face no punishment, but if he broke the law again, he would pay in full measure for his crime.
Two hours later, Morgan saluted his father, kissed his mother’s cheek, and hurried out of the royal suite. His brothers Alex and Orion, and five of their friends accompanied him out of the palace.
“We’re going to Heron’s to celebrate,” Alex said. “Come with us.”
Morgan shook his head. “Another time, Brother.” He felt dishonest, returning to Claire so soon after receiving mercy on the charges of consorting with humans, but he couldn’t wait to see her again. He couldn’t eat or sleep, could hardly think straight. He could hear her voice in his head, smell her scent. He had to go back. He could not live if he didn’t see her again … find some way to get her out of his system … find a way to cool his fever for her.
Orion grimaced. “I hope you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”
“And that is?” Heron asked.
“Don’t ask,” Alex said, draping an arm around his neck. “Better not to know.”
Morgan embraced his brothers, exchanged hugs and handclasps and slaps on the back from his friends. He was about to take his leave when Caddoc, the Samoan, Jason, and two more young men swept into the courtyard on horseback.
“There he is,” Jason said loudly, gesturing toward Morgan. “The
prince
.” His voice was slurred, as though he’d had too much to drink.
prince
.” His voice was slurred, as though he’d had too much to drink.
“My esteemed brother has to hide behind his father’s throne.” Caddoc yanked back on his sea horse’s bridle and the creature tossed its head and twisted its great, curved tail. The beasts the group rode were giants of their species, reaching twenty hands at the withers. The cost of such a stallion was three years’ salary for an officer of the palace guard. As likely to savage their riders as an opponent, sea horses were rarely used in battle. These animals appeared red-eyed and hard ridden.
“Watch your mouth. There’s more than one prince here,” Alex shouted back. Then to Morgan, he said, “Maybe we’d better teach them some manners.”
“No.” Morgan shook his head. “We want no trouble.” He had no time to contend with his half-brother and his cronies today. When he and Caddoc faced off, he wanted them both sober, so that if he killed him, it would be a fair fight. He had no wish to face the court on a charge of murder.
“Speak for yourself.” Orion adjusted his sword belt. “I’d like the chance to put Caddoc in his place.” He lowered his voice. “And I wonder whose mounts they’re riding. Jason and Caddoc might be able to afford the down payment on one of those beasts, but not the others. Their families aren’t that wealthy.”
“Unless they stole them.” Alex looked thoughtful. “And then it would our duty to return the animals to their lawful owners, wouldn’t it?”
“Did your mother plead your case?” Caddoc taunted.
Morgan darkened. “Ignore them.”
“We could make it our affair,” Orion said.
“No.” Morgan shook his head.
“Come with us.” Alex motioned toward an archway. “If you leave now, they’re bound to follow. They might catch you alone somewhere.”
“I’m not afraid of them,” Morgan said.
Orion shrugged. “Alone, you could probably take Caddoc and one or two more. But do you want to face that many by yourself? I might, but—”
Alex laughed. “Listen to him. If there’s one thing Orion isn’t, it’s humble.”
“I’m just speaking the truth.” Orion glanced back at Caddoc, and then at Morgan. “How long has it been since you went through warrior training? Maybe you need to brush up on—”
“My self-defense skills are sufficient to deal with our half-brother.”
“Good enough,” Alex said. “You go and do whatever is so important, and we’ll make certain that Caddoc and crew are not in any condition to track you for a day or two.” He glanced at Heron and their friends. “Gentlemen ? Are you with me?” Grabbing a trident from a soldier passing by, Alex reversed it and launched himself across the courtyard.
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