Gods Save the Queen - Book 2 - The Warrior Duchess

by Duleigh

©Copyright 2025 by Duleigh

Edited by KMaz317

Preface

Gods Save the Queen Book 2 - Warrior Duchess

As a writer, I have the distinct pleasure of standing on the shoulders of giants. J. R. R. Tolkien, Ursula Le Guin, C. S. Lewis, Neil Gaiman, Robert E. Howard, H. G. Wells and so many more. And I am happy to report that the view is great from up here. So many wonderful stories have passed through my library, and these men and women have taken me to places I fervently wished truly existed. None more so than the worlds created by Terry Pratchett. Sir Terry gave me some of the best advice anyone can give a budding author.

“Once you have your character sitting right there in your head, all you really need to do is wind them up, put them down, and simply write down what they do, say, or think.”

He’s right! It works! Once again I wind up Nick and Octavia and let them lead us into a universe that only exists here, in this book. In Gods Save the Queen Book 2 - Warrior Duchess, we journey deeper into Kodu, a world where mythology and fantasy intertwine, and where the fate of a tiny mountain nation rests in the hands of the determined, the bold, and the misunderstood.

This volume continues the saga set forth in the first book; Gods Save the Queen Book 1 - The Enchantress. The war is over, the dream that was the kingdom of Breaze is gone, but Nick and Octavia have found a new home. A young couple who were raised to live in the halls of royalty are now raising chickens.

How will their new neighbors take to a witch who is a man? That role is always filled by women; now, Nick Stein is taking that role. The witches don’t like it, but what about the people he serves? And Octavia exhibits the talents of a wizard, a position aways taken by men. Each page is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit (and the spirit of elves and dwarves) the power of destiny, and the enduring legacy of heroes and heroines whose stories deserve to be told.

As the author, I hope that this book not only entertains but also inspires readers to reflect on the forces-both seen and unseen-that shape our lives. The characters you meet may be born of fantasy, but their challenges, choices, and triumphs are grounded in the universal truths we all share. Whether you are a returning reader or new to the series, I invite you to lose yourself in a tale of sacrifice, bravery, and the relentless pursuit of justice.

Thank you for joining this adventure. May you find in these pages both escape and meaning, and may the spirit of the Warrior Duchess embolden you to face your own battles with grace and courage. And a huge thank you to KMaz317 for all the work she’s put into this universe that popped out of my head. She’s the wrangler that keeps these characters in line and the heart behind their romances.

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Chapter 01 - A Restless Night

In a tiny corner of the infinite universe resides a star not unlike your own. It’s similar in size, and of identical color. In fact, the major difference between your sun and this one is that this one does not have sunspots. It’s not like there’s much worry about that; society is not allowed to advance to the electronic age where sunspots interfere with electronics. That happened once, four thousand years ago, and when the last war was over, the survivors called themselves gods (with a little g) and set about preventing that from happening again. They’ve been spectacularly successful for the past three thousand four hundred and thirty-one years at keeping mankind and the deviations known as elvenkind, dwarvenkind, demi-giants, werewolves, vampires, trolls, gnomes, brownies, goblins, gnolls, and the rarest of the rare, the draconians, from blowing the planet and themselves to pieces.

This star, known as Thaal, has only two planets. Its closest planet is Zigu, a huge planet of solid nickel and iron that circles Thaal quickly. The next one, about 30,000 miles in circumference, is Kodu. Kodu circles Thaal every 352 days. Zigu circles Thaal every 66 Kodu days, which means that Zigu and Kodu pass close together every 88 Kodu days. These portents the event known as “Stardance” for the people of Kodu.

On Kodu, the hardworking, honest citizens of the different principalities, kingdoms, fiefdoms, countries, and empires sleep, hoping that their place of employment still requires their labor in the morning. It’s late on the continent of Edux, the giant moon Kuu rules the sky, and the night shift now rules Kodu.

In Torwin-Armistad, the largest city on the continent of Edux and possibly on all the planet of Kodu, the night shift was in full swing. Murderers, thieves, assassins, rapists, and muggers were out in force, working hard to fill their quotas. As they labored in the streets, in the former Palace of the Seventeen Kings, now known as the Office of the Dominus, the ruler of the city, the Dominus Orazio Laurita was puzzling over a dilemma. A young, good-looking couple, both Torwin-Armistad born and raised, just killed a god gone mad and saved the world. Political hay must be made. How could Orazio Laurita use the efforts of these two heroes to advance his own standing?

The problem was that they had both disappeared from sight and were rumored to be in the Kingdom of Uduithia, so now the question arises: how does Torwin-Armistad (meaning Orazio Laurita) profit from their hard work and sacrifice? Dominus Laurita took quill in hand and scratched out a few ideas, then he got to the business of ruling Torwin-Armistad. He implemented a new tax, signed a few execution orders, filled out an assassination request, then called for his secretary…

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In the tiny mountain kingdom of Uduithia there rests the small village of Soilly {as opposed to ‘rocky’} and in a small steading outside of the village, a small farmhouse stood next to an ancient barn that was built with raw lumber and strong backs. In front of the parlor fire sat the body of Agness Dempsy, witch. She could be napping on a warm summer night, a book lying open in her hands. She wasn’t napping; in fact, she wasn’t even there. While her body remained behind, all that was of Agness Dempsy was out on patrol.

Next to her in his comfortable wingback chair was Harold Dempsy, her husband. He knew what she was up to. As he lit his pipe (something he’d never do when she was in the house) Angela, their youngest granddaughter, entered without knocking. “Say hi to Poppo!” she said to the six month old boy in her arms, and she dropped him in Harold’s lap and went into the kitchen to snoop. “Where’s Maw-maw?”

“She’s out enlisting again,” said Harold as he bounced Stephan on his knee.

“Where?” asked Angela as she emerged from the kitchen chewing on a leftover pork chop.

“She’s probably spying on your cousins. Again.”

Angela rolled her eyes in exasperation. “They’re newlyweds! She should leave them alone.”

“Maybe if you get married, you’ll be a newlywed and you’ll see your Maw-maw more often,” said Grandpa Harold.

“Yeah, as a snake or a turtle or something,” huffed Angela, and she slumped down in a chair next to Grandpa Harold.

Sitting between them, Agness was not asleep, and she was not dead; she was enlisting. Enlisting is a technique used by witches where a witch leaves her body behind in a deep trance and enlists the mind of an animal, where she convinces it to share everything it sees and hears. Enlisting is the art of convincing an animal to go somewhere you want to see, and look at it. It’s not taking over the animal’s mind; you give them suggestions where to go and what to look at. If they refuse, you look for another animal. It’s animal-based voyeurism. This night, Agness wanted to see her great-nephew, and she saw him through the eyes of an owl.

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In the tiny Uduithia village of Elm Springs, Nick Stein dreamed he awoke hungry and thirsty, and he found himself back on a tiny island where there was nothing to eat or drink. The only thing on the island with him was Droul, the god of Death. “THREE TIMES LUCKY, I AM IMPRESSED,” said the god of Death.

Nick shuddered, thinking of his recent near brushes with death. He was stomped bloody by a flock of stampeding sheep, then he was almost eaten by a dingaroo, and then most recently he was almost swallowed by Zeddicus, the demon god of Lies. Only his ability to change forms through the magic of Vanemate Rasside Jõud, an ancient book of power, saved his life with Zeddicus. “I’m not a wizard, why am I seeing you?” gasped Nick as he spat sand out of his mouth and tried to drag his aching body toward the waterline to maybe rinse the sand out with saltwater. He didn’t need to do that, because as the sun rose, the island would disappear under the rising tide; the waterline would soon come to him.

Droul said, “YOU ARE A WITCH, A HEALER. WE WILL BE COMPETING AGAINST EACH OTHER FOR THE LIVES OF YOUR PATIENTS.”

“I can’t be a witch. I’m a male.”

The god of Death said, “IT’S YOUR FATE. THAT’S NOT MY RESPONSIBILITY. IF YOU WANT TO TALK FATE, YOU NEED TO SPEAK TO MY SISTER SAATUS.”

Nick considered what Droul had just said. He had met Saatus, the goddess of Fate, while hiking on Black Mountain. She has been the nicest god so far. She gave him a couple of prophecies and a mule. He spat sand out of his mouth and groaned, “Gods, I am thirsty.”

“NO ONE HAS EVER HEARD OF A THIRSTY SHARK,” said Droul. Most of the gods chose bodies that reflected their personalities. Droul was merely a black shroud with a hood and two points of light deep in the hood for eyes.

“That was very nice of you to suggest that, thank you,” said Nick as he dragged himself to the waterline. Why didn’t he think of that?

“LET US CALL IT A PROFESSIONAL COURTESY,” said Droul as he disappeared. As he faded from sight, Nick pulled himself into the water. There was a kick of a shark’s tail, and the sandy spit of land was empty again…

With a stifled shriek of terror, Nick Stein, known to a few people as “Pommy” woke up in his bed, his body soaked in sweat, panting, and his nerves jittery and on edge. The love of his life, Octavia Stein, lay naked next to him, a satisfied smile still gracing those perfect lips. Full, round breasts, a narrow waist, and round hips with a perfectly sculpted ass. Nick still does not know where she looks more beautiful, in sunlight, or starlight, candlelight, or moonlight. Nick and Octavia are the most unique couple in the Snow Cross Mountains, and probably on the entirety of Kodu. A wizard married to a witch - that’s something that hasn’t happened in 300 years, but what makes it unique is that he is the witch, and she is the wizard. That has never happened. Ever.

Anyone who has spent more than a mayfly’s lifespan on the planet of Kodu knows that the concept of a male witch and a female wizard is heretical. This is a universal belief on Kodu. There are still kingdoms that burn people at the stake for claiming to be a wizard or a witch. A true wizard or witch must present their bona fides to their king before they can even claim to be a witch or wizard.

The wizards would never go for it! A woman wizard? Unheard of! But Octavia trained for it and was certified at the leading school of wizards on Kodu, the University of Saehrimnir in Torwin-Armistad. She was abandoned as an infant at the Temple of Saehrimnir. As she grew older, she crept into classes and listened to lectures and signed into classes under the name Façade Incognito. She was caught, and to entertain his suspicions, the professor at the time, Tidor Dhukonn, ordered her to take the examinations, and she outshone all the other students.

From the minute she saw Nick, she fell in love with him and became the enchantress. Nick was in the kingdom of Breaze at the time, and was the captain of the royal guard, protecting King Alfrich. She was a “mail order bride” at the time, and engaged to King Alfrich, which made her life a bit sticky. She saw Nick as a potential husband. He saw Octavia as a potential threat to the king. She was a full wizard; she carried a staff; she had the traditional pointy hat, which was the sign of office, and the wizard’s robes she wore appeared invisible to those that she enchanted; it appeared like she wasn’t wearing anything. Happily, the only man she enchanted would become her husband.

As for Nick, as a child he was abandoned by an alcoholic father who beat his mother to death. Nick’s last memory of his mother was her crawling off into the night to die. Nick spent his childhood living under a trash heap outside the Temple of Saehrimnir, the god of the Divine Fools. He was abandoned there at the age of four, and he lived there until he was eight and survived by eating trash, including dead rats. He would sneak into the temple and steal bread from the offering plate and drink the holy water. Holy water was not for human consumption; it was for the gods’ use only. It would kill any human that drank it, but somehow, Nick and his wolf puppy Pepin drank the holy water quite often and lived. For four years they didn’t age until a temple acolyte took Nick and deposited him in the cabin of his only known relative, Nana Peacock, a dead witch. Nick was raised and trained to be a witch by the ghost of Nana Peacock, who was Agness Dempsy’s mother, and Nick’s actual great-grandmother.

At sixteen, he loved being a witch so much he enrolled in medical courses at the University of Tervis, god of health, in the Kingdom of Breaze. To pay for his education, he enlisted in the Royal Guard and loved it so much he rose to the rank of captain and was named their commander. He and Octavia accidentally let their ‘occupations’ be known, and the king threatened to burn them both at the stake. Only Octavia’s magical manipulation of the king’s memory saved their lives.

Nick and Octavia moved to Elm Springs after the Breaze government collapsed in a coup, and Nick started going to coven meetings. The other witches hated it until he showed them his medical skills. He was so good the other witches were shocked… but they still didn’t trust him.

Nick and Octavia were selected by the gods to save Kodu, and to do that, Nick was given several generations of wizards’ knowledge. Since it just appeared in his head, he doesn’t know what knowledge is available to him until he needs it. One of those skills was book repair, and as Octavia was researching a spell, he repaired what turned out to be an extremely powerful magical book, Vanemate Rasside Jõud The Power of the Elder Races, which gave him Polyeidus, the power to change into different animals.

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As Nick gazed at his beautiful wife on that beautiful moonlit evening, a sudden noise startled him, this wasn’t the noise an old cottage makes as the temperature changes and the wooden beams find newer and better ways to hold on to each other, this was the sound of someone clearing their throat. Nick whirled, and there in the corner was Droul, god of Death. He was standing in the corner; his little pinpoint eyes fixed on the newlywed couple. “No,” was the only thing Nick could say, then finally, “Dear Gods, no, you promised!”

“I AM NOT HERE FOR YOU OR YOUR WIFE. THERE IS ONE OTHER.” His voice boomed like the blast of a trombone in each ear, yet was as quiet as sand shifting in a long-forgotten desert tomb. Droul leaned over Octavia, and a tiny point of sapphire light gently traveled from Octavia to Droul, leaving a slim trail of sapphire light in its wake. The trail of light faded, and the pinpoint of light disappeared in Droul’s shroud; the god of Death took their baby.

“Why?” gasped Nick.

“IT IS SOMETHING THAT HAPPENS WITH FIRST-TIME PARENTS; IT WILL NOT AFFECT FUTURE PREGNANCIES.”

“Was this from casting the Rite of Prose Mino to stop your brother?” demanded Nick, and Droul nodded what passed for his head. Nick and Octavia were prevented from making love before the great battle. They were warned that the gods did not know what would happen to an unborn baby if the mother cast magical spells. But making love was part of the enchantment for the vellum it would take to cast the spell, and the Rite of Prose Mino was the most powerful spell cast in centuries.

“How many more times will you take a family member from me?” whispered the anguished witch.

“I WILL NOT TAKE YOUR WIFE OR ANY CHILDREN FROM YOU DURING YOUR NATURAL LIFETIME…” and with that, the god of Death slowly faded away. He told the truth, but he didn’t fully answer the question. There were family members Nick wasn’t aware of, and what did he mean when he said, “natural lifetime”? Nick placed his hand on his wife’s lower abdomen, and the tiny, vibrant spot of life that they enjoyed watching grow stronger was gone. Nick felt a soul-clenching sorrow for a son or daughter that he never met, and he felt he had to do something… anything to eclipse that sorrow.

Shaken by the dream of his last near god-of-Death encounter and followed by the loss of his child, Nick got out of bed quietly and made his way downstairs. He decided to leave Octavia asleep and talk with her when she wakes. He stepped out onto the porch, his entire body shaking, and when the cool evening breeze touched his sweat-dampened skin, he shook even harder. “Who did Droul want?” asked a voice from down by his thigh.

“The baby,” was all Nick could say. He could tell it was true from the pain in his heart.

“You need to go for a run, said Pepin. It’s the only thing that will help.”

Nick stepped off the porch, and the moment his feet touched the cool, damp grass, he realized his dog was right. With no fanfare, Nick became a Snow Cross red deer, and he took a few steps. “Ready? Set?” Suddenly the wolf flashed past him. “You bitch,” swore Nick, and he broke into a run and tried to catch up with his friend.

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Drifting over the tiny backwoods mountain kingdom of Uduithia, Agness Dempsey, riding along in an owl’s body, was looking at the citizens as they slept, looking to see if anyone needs the assistance of a witch or was having fun that she didn’t approve of. As she swept over an open field, she saw a wolf chasing a hart, a Snow Cross Mountain Red Deer buck with a huge rack of antlers. The wolf barked like a dog and nipped at the hart, and occasionally the hart would stop and lower its antlers at the wolf, threatening the large, noisy animal. “Some folks should learn to leash their dogs,” harrumphed Agness as she landed on a branch of a large beech tree to watch.

They ran through Nick and Octavia’s meadow, Pepin nipping at Nick’s legs, trying to get him to run faster. Soon they were laughing and enjoying the chance to run in the moonlight. They raced through a marshy area, splashing and getting mud on each other, then Nick and Pepin raced through the copse of wood that separated their property from Eric Macclenny’s land. The friends laughed and played, leaving misery behind. Nick occasionally lowered his antlers at Pepin in an “I dare you!” gesture, which caused Pepin to dash in between the multitude of antler points and nip at Nick’s nose. “Pepin,” whispered Nick, “there’s a witch in that tree watching us.”

“Who?”

“Aunt Agness, she enlisted an owl.”

“Oh, that old thing,” grumbled Pepin. Images of a witch threatening young lost girls and their little dogs came to mind. Pepin was not a fan. “Let’s go say hi to her.”

“Ok.”

The deer stopped tussling with the dog and sprinted toward the tree that Agness was sitting in, and as they passed under her, the deer looked up at her and nodded, then the dog said, “Good evening, Agness!” The deer that looked up at her had a gold key hanging from a ribbon around its neck and one golden eye.

Thirty minutes later, an owl perched on the windowsill of Agness’s cottage, and in the old farmhouse, Agness sat up with a start. Something is wrong in Elm Springs, and she decided she would be the one to fix it.

Agness was right; something was up in Elm Springs, and the town folks loved it. A new witch was in town, and even though it was a young man, he was knowledgeable, dependable, caring, and nice. Every day he walked through the village from one end to the other, greeting everyone he could. Then, if he had no pressing farm chores, he would spend the day in the Temple of the Woods spending much of his time doing fine calligraphy for announcements or invitations, and repairing and restoring fine old books that were brought to him by libraries from all over the planet Kodu, which was odd because no one ever saw a delivery cart at the temple.

But as he worked in the temple office, anyone could walk in with any bump or bruise, sneeze or cough, and he would do something to help. A healing draught, a salve or poultice, and always a kind word and a sweet for the children

It was known throughout Elm Springs village and the surrounding Hay-on-Wægn county that there was a new witch in town with the hands of an angel and the power of a wizard and wheels were turning in the minds of several powerful people to do something about that.

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Chapter 02 - Conspiracies

Nick and Octavia’s destruction of the demon-god Zeddicus did not go unnoticed on Kodu. The events that led up to the titanic battle where the young couple silenced the rampaging god gone mad have some people singing their praises. Other people were not as happy with them, while others wanted to exploit their courage and magical skill to boost their own reputation. Plots both good and bad were being hatched all over Kodu, and not just on the continent of Edux.

Torwin-Armistad - the largest city on Kodu and more populous than the next four countries combined. Torwin-Armistad is not afraid of invasion. In fact, it welcomes invaders. Invading armies, soldiers used to spartan living, enter the city and soon disappear into the crowds. Their swords and armor soon appear in pawn shop windows, and the thriving businesses of food stands serving foreign delicacies being run by former invaders spread across the city.

The city is run by a consortium of federations that enforce the vision of the true leader of the city, The Dominus, Orazio Laurita. His influence in the Dispatchers Federation (Assassins) ensures cooperation from the other Federations. Orazio was trying to find a way to draw the new witch in Uduithia and his wife back to Torwin-Armistad, where they could be the face of the new Tourism Federation. After all, they just saved the world. They could provide a draw to Torwin-Armistad. An idea came to mind, and he scratched out a note to H.M. King Uric II, ruler of the kingdom of Uduithia, and chuckled. “Handletyre!” he called for his secretary out of habit.

Instead of Tredwell Handletyre, another man entered. Medium height, medium build, indistinguishable features, unremarkable hair, Suart la Fountaine could never be picked out of a line-up. He was indistinguishable in a crowd of men as a single brick was in a wall. The Dispatchers’ Federation sent the Dominus the perfect assistant. “Mister Handletyre is still recovering, sir; may I be of assistance?”

“Of course, Mister la Fountaine, have this sent via flash to Uduithia as soon as possible,” and he handed the note to Stuart. The word “flash” was referring to the semaphore system throughout the western edge of the Edux continent. Huge towers with semaphore flags and spotlights at night, these towers transferred messages to the next tower in line, the operator would read the message then pass it on to the next tower, the header in the message would give the operators information on the routing of the message so that it was sent to the correct towers then passed on to the recipient. The term flash refers to the blinking of the lamps flashing the code, giving it the informal name “Flash” and now instead of weeks, this note to the king of Uduithia will be there in an hour.

“Yes sir, and by the way, this just came from Uduithia via the flash.” La Fontaine handed Orazio Laurita a flash, thin, brittle paper, and the text was written in the blocky, tight script of the goblins who work the towers. It was from the office of the King of Uduithia.

After reading the flash, Orazio said, “I’ll take back that letter I gave you, no need to send it. It appears that we will be going to Uduithia soon.”

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The Xuantang Empire - the oldest empire on Kodu. It is said that when the gods walked the earth as men; they founded the Xuantang empire. For a long time, the Xuantang Empire was a peaceful empire, depending on farmers, fishermen and traders to drive the economy. Then, in the year 1653, gold was discovered in the Zhou Dongyu mountains, gold in vast amounts. A mad gold-rush to the mountain areas, where the gold was found in amounts so vast that it destroyed the empire’s economy. Rice became more valuable than gold, and farmers became millionaires. The nouveau riche farmers ended up hiring former millionaires to plant their terraced rice paddies. In retaliation for centuries of financial abuse, the new millionaires paid the former millionaires the same money the farmers were paid when they were farming rice.

The price of fish skyrocketed also, because while the former millionaires were planting rice, the fishermen of the Xuantang empire were in the Zhang Ziyi mountains digging up gold. They dug up so much gold that gold eventually lost any value, crashing the fortunes of the former farmers. This started the fifty-year war. From 1655 to 1705, the gold miners of the Zhou Dongyu mountains formed armies and fought the armies of the Zhang Ziyi mountains.

For decades, they fought. They fought until they ran out of men, so they hired mercenaries. They fought until the money ran out, so they picked up weapons off the battlefield and fought on with those. When they didn’t pay the mercenaries, they had to fight the men they hired until there was no one left to fight.

When the war was over, the only winner was the Emperor. He had removed the greatest threats to his empire by standing back and letting them kill each other. When the dust settled, the survivors of the war found that their gold was nationalized and owned by the emperor, as were the mines and the mountain ranges. He did what he could to stabilize the economy, but Xuantang was in the throes of a famine because all the farmers and all the fishermen had died in the fifty-year war. The empire survived as it always does, and this time it was firmly in the hands of the Hong dynasty, where it would remain for the next 1600 years.

In 3424, General Hau Chung Shi (known to all as Shi Hai or behind his back as Yinjing Xiǎo (Tiny Penis)) staged a coup in the Grand Palace. He killed (actually had his people kill) everyone of Emperor Hong Pha Shì’s wives, concubines, sons, and loyal generals, then he took the throne. He had a young son named Hau Chung Fu, known as Fu Ki by his Number 1 wife. He enslaved Hong Pha Shì’s last remaining daughter Ning and raped her. That rape resulted in a son named Jia. (True name Hau Chung Jia).

In the year 3431, a pair of fishermen brought a man that they had caught in their nets to see Emperor Hau Chung Shi. According to official reports, the man was NOT a dragon.

For that to be true, the man would have had to lie down for a nap and the emperor and all of the palace guards would have had to crawl under him and get crushed to death as he dozed causing the Prime Minister to have a heart attack. The report makes much more sense if you believe the man changed into a dragon and crushed everyone that got in his way.

The dragon did four things; it removed the corrupt emperor Hau Chung Shi; it removed the dishonest Prime Minister Wo Ching; and it cleared out a palace full of unskilled guards who were on the take. However, it left the empire in the hands of a seven-year-old boy, Fu Ki, whose only accomplishment to date was to torture and humiliate his half-brother Jia.

The rule of Fu Ki is marked by a period of corruption, but then, the Xuantang Empire was based on corruption. Their primary products were terrorizing their own population, building up a huge military to wage war on their own population, and gold, lots of gold that they did not share with their own population. The Xuantang Empire covered the Bracul continent, a land that is filled with heavy metals, and so much gold that gold became nearly valueless. The Bracul Continent is rich in gold, silver, lead, iron, and slavery. What it did not have was light metals like copper, tin, nickel, and zink.

The emperor just turned eight years old, and his voice is said to be The Word of God. “Lung Mist,” shrieked Emperor Fu Ki, “what ever happened to that guy that turned into a dragon?”

“After crushing the emperor, the palace guard, and the Prime Minister he left your holiness,” said the eunuch Lung Mist

“You just let him go?” shrieked the boy.

“No, we gave him a new eye before he left, your greatness.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?” screamed the child.

“There was no one left to stop him, your eminence.”

“He was funny. He should live here and entertain me.”

“We no longer know where he is, your amazingness.” Lung Mist was worried. Normally, the emperor loses interest in something after ten minutes. He’s been whining about the Dragon Wizard, as he became known as, for several weeks.

“Find Him And Bring Him BACK!” demanded the brat emperor.

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Peregrine and Aegir Mining was a new startup consortium in the dwarven community with its eyes on Black Mountain and not just the riches of iron and other precious metals deep below it. There’s something else to make any concession worth the cost. The one problem was that it was owned by the Kingdom of Uduithia, and Uduithia had an odd way of dealing with its natural resources. The whole of Black Mountain was under the stewardship of the senior witch in Hay-on-Wægn County. Olaf Peregrine reviewed the coded information he received from his stepson, Rifty Peregrine, who was there on the ground in Uduithia and reporting back on his work via Flash semaphore. “Rifty is in good spirits,” said Olaf as he read the flash message. “He spoke with the Stuart of the court of Uduithia, and he said that the mountain is in the control of witches.”

Ringgold Aegir looked up from the mining report he was compiling. “So?”

“That’s good news on a couple of fronts. First of all, as we all know, witches are only concerned with things that go on above ground, birds and herbs and mushrooms and the like. They wouldn’t know the difference between an adit and a crosscut. They know nothing about what goes on below the substrate and they will practically give us the mountain as long as we leave the external shell to the squirrels and flowers.”

“You said first of all,” said Ringgold Aegir. “What else?”

Olaf Peregrine leaned back and grinned around his five-dollar cigar. “They’re all women.” Dwarves are not particularly sexist. Most female dwarves work right alongside their men; some even grow beards. It’s when you talk about other species that dwarves show a dislike for females. Elven women are of little consequence to dwarves, who consider them nothing more than tall fairies with clothing. They accuse elven women of doing nothing but fluttering around the lilies and singing about leaves and tulips and the like.

The dwarves hold a special disdain for human women. They consider them silly, meager creatures with large breasts, narrow waists, and round asses… and silently wish dwarf women looked like that. They believe human women to be weak, stupid, and easily fooled.

“When do we move into our mountain?” snickered Reingold. When it came to mining, witches were notoriously stupid. They care only about the topsoil and what grows out of the topsoil. They have no idea what the topsoil is hiding.

“He’s going to meet with Mother Peacock, the head witch of Hay-on-Wægn county tomorrow and everything should be in the bag,” said Olaf as he burned the communique in an ashtray.

Reingold went back to his report as Olaf opened the next Flash message and cried out, “Oh Look! We’ve been invited to a Royal Reception at Uduithia Castle. It’s a wedding presentation.”

“Don’t you mean wedding reception or wedding ceremony or something like that?”

“No, it’s a presentation. A newly married couple presents themselves to the king and queen for addition into the Uduithia records. I guess it saves the couple from having to plan a big wedding ceremony.”

“It should be in time to review our new mining claim,” chuckled Reingold. “Send Rifty.”

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The Temple of Bet ha-Kise - “Eight fucking weeks,” grumbled Dean Oaklee Meece.

“Pardon?” asked a fourth-year student of applied magical theory. The student went by the name of Horatio Tinsmith, but everyone who knew his real name mysteriously died.

“Oh, just… that bitch Octavia Anghart, the one they kept calling queen. Her and that elf and that gimpy cyclops, tearing through my library, tearing through the campus, tearing through a professor’s apartment for gods sakes.”

“Which god?” asked Horatio.

“It doesn’t matter which god, it’s a saying, for gods sakes. I think it means all of them,” snapped Dean Meece.

“Oh, cause I was wondering. I heard it said that they have the favor of Saehrimnir, and he’s top dog as far as the gods go,” said Horatio. The student named Horatio was having a hard time holding back the laughter. If this fat clown, who claimed to be the dean, knew who he was, he would roll away in terror.

“So they think they can waltz into my university and upend everything and force me to make heads n’ tails out of the dwooie… dewie… douie… the order the books are shelved in.”

“The Dewey Decimal System? I think you’ve had enough dean,” said Horatio as he ordered another ale.

“How did you get in here anyhow; this is the faculty lounge. You should be in the student’s lounge, or the fraternity house.”

“Nah, I don’t hang around with those immature losers,” said Horatio. “Poor little rich boys trying to master magic and magical theory just to make daddy the baron proud. Fahk them… alla them.”

“You got thrown out of the student lounge, didn’t ya?” said Dean.

“That’s only because those LOSERS don’t want to hear the truth about their magical ability… or lack thereof,” said Horatio, and he took a long swig of his ale.

“They wouldn’t let you join any fraternities either, would they.”

“Losers!” shouted Horatio. “If they all put their heads together they couldn’t come up with enough magical abilities to pull a rabbit out of a hat.”

“Why would there be a rabbit in hat?”

“It’s a… whatcha callit… a saying. Maybe even a metaphor.”

“Just as long as it’s not a metonymy, we have rules about these things,” said the dean as he and Horatio plotted their own form of revenge.

<><><><><>

Witch Agness Dempsy - “I tell you Esadora, they knew I was watchin’ down on em’ the whole time,” said Agness Dempsy as she stirred her tea so hard, she nearly drilled her spoon through the bottom of the teacup. Agness Dempsy is the self-proclaimed best witch on Kodu and is well over one hundred percent a “proper” witch. Her witch’s hat is heavily starched and ironed into submission so that the brim can be used as a knife and is held in place with enough hat pins to fend off a Wooly Triceratops. According to her friend Ezzie, Agness’s knees have never been more than four inches apart, and the term “straight laced” is risqué for Agness. Quite an accusation considering that Agness has been married for 65 years and has four daughters.

“What makes you think-a that Agness?” asked Ezzie as she tipped her hip flask of “Snow Cross Mountain Nectar” into her tea. “A great horned owl sitting out in the open would cause any hinterland creature to look up.”

Agness mumbled the reply into her tea.

The scent of Ezzie’s homemade whiskey filled the house, and the fumes gave a hint why Ezzie Fahy used a wooden spoon to stir her tea. “I needs ya to speak up Agness, some of us are getting a bit deef!” she shouted with a laugh.

“I said they looked up at me and said, ‘Good evening Aunt Agness.’ They said it to me as they ran under my tree!” Agness’s eyes narrowed as she delicately sipped her tea. Then she remembered a detail: “the hart had a golden eye.”

“That could have been a trick of the light. There were no clouds last night, and two of the moons was full.”

“No matter, I’m going to go to Elm Springs and give that new witch a piece of my mind. I don’t care if he’s my niece’s son. There’s certain things a witch doesn’t do, and runnin’ with wolves is one of them.”

“Now Agness, you have responsibilities on the west side of Uduithia, I’m retired now that our Jeremy’s wife took over at witching. Let me go see what is happening in Elm Springs before you chase off another young witch. We just got a full seven for a coven!”

“Not that damn coven idea again…” mumbled Agness.

<><><><><>

King and Queen of Uduithia - His royal majesty King Uric II of Uduithia may have been raised and educated as a minstrel, but he was no one’s fool. His desire to democratize the Kingdom of Uduithia may have stalled due to the narrow-minded attitude of the populace, who suggest that the current form of aristocratic rule works just fine. And to be honest, it does. Being too small to generate anything resembling a kleptocracy in Uduithia, Uric has found that his tiny kingdom runs just fine with a tiny government.

After breakfast, while doing the dishes with his wife, Queen Elinor, Crown Princess Sophia, Prince Exavier, and Prince Abraam, who at one month of age watched the goings on from the queen’s arms. The king inspected the plate he had just washed before handing to his daughter to rinse. “Dear, I am worried about the new witch that Nana Partridge selected to replace her.”

Elinor, a retired witch herself, had heard a little about the new witch and immediately grew defensive. “Why? Because he has an elitist name?”

“No dear, Pommeraie de la Montesquieu is a fine name. It’s just that…”

“He doesn’t use that name anymore,” said Sophia.

“Because he’s new and inexperienced?” demanded Elinor as she tried to remain calm while nursing the baby.

“No dear, as you say, each witch must grow into her own cottage.”

“His cottage grew into him,” said Sophia.

“Is it because he has a lot of wizarding know-how and can become any animal?”

“No dear, that actually appeals to me.”

“Is it because she’s a man?” asked their daughter, Crown Princess Sophia.

“Hmmm yes, that’s precisely it,” sighed Uric. “I fear the kingdom will not put up with it.”

“When dad says kingdom he usually means Agness Dempsy,” Exavier whispered to his little brother, Abraam, who smiled around the queen’s breast. Exavier pays careful attention anytime Agness Dempsey is mentioned because someday he may be king.

Elinor hugged her husband from behind. “I think that is wonderful. It’s the forward thinking this kingdom needs.”

“And everyone else despises. Yes, I believe it is a good thing, and I think I’m going to need to protect him along with the new wizard in town. But at the same time, they’re both quite experienced in the operations of a proper kings court. I am going to put them to work.”

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

Chapter 03 - Welcome to Elm Springs

“Oh, how beautiful! They’re so cute! Thank you!” Octavia gushed as she looked at the small cage containing four young cottontail rabbits.

“We want to thank th’ witch for such a beautiful, healthy grandson,” said Tiernan Brighid, the grandfather of the first child Nick ever delivered.

“I suggest you separate the black one from the others,” said Sorcha Brighid. “He’s going to be a bit randy.” Sorcha is the new grandmother of Cain McCandless. She was skeptical of having a male witch delivering her daughters first baby, but when Nick laid that child in her arms, happy and squalling like a banshee, Sorcha no longer had a care in the world, there was no problem with a male witch that she could think of.

“They’re… fluffy,” was all Octavia could say about the young rabbits. “What do we do with them… I mean, besides pull them out of hats?”

“You raise them! Feed them proper rabbit feed and with that buck you make more rabbits. Soon they’ll be big enough to eat,” said Sorcha.

“Eat?” gasped Octavia, still trying to sound grateful. She turned and saw Nick grinning and tried not to kick him.

“Aye, in a pie or a stew, and the pelts are soft and warm. They’ll make darling hats, mittens, and stockings for your babies,” said Sorcha.

“Let’s see where we can put them,” said Nick, and they walked around back of the cottage to find that the “Critter Shed,” Nanny Peacock’s henhouse, had a set of cages on the shaded north side.

“That’s a fine rabbit hutch,” said Tiernan Brighid. “We’ll put the does here, we’ll put the buck here, and when they get large enough you open this door between the cages and in a few weeks, you’ll have more bunnies.”

“How do we know when the females are in heat?” asked Octavia.

“A doe doesn’t go into ‘heat’, as you call it,” said Sorcha. “She’s ready anytime a buck comes a-calling.”

“Don’t worry, rabbits have a way to figure that out,” said Nick.

Nick only hoped his smile was convincing. The grateful grandparents gave Nick and Octavia a list of the rabbit’s dietary requirements, mostly scraps from the kitchen cutting board, and it sounded like one of the best meals he’s ever had. Living on the streets of Torwin-Armistad as a child guarantees a diet of scraps, garbage, refuse, and beatings. Right now, all Octavia knew how to cook was eggs, which they had with leftover meat that Nick smoked. They have been gifted with lots of interesting-looking vegetables, which were sitting in the root cellar waiting for panic to set in, forcing Octavia to try to cook them, but she doesn’t know precisely how to do that.

She and Nick had an agreement, leave the cooking to her, and Nick could do the simple work, like the farming and wood cutting and animal husbandry. She’s got Gertrude Wolf’s recipe cards, but she doesn’t quite know what they mean. The cards are magical and know exactly what is in the pantry and the root cellar, and the cards adjust the recipe to match what is on hand. It’s the technical aspects she doesn’t understand, like, what’s a puree? How do you tablespoon? And is a fillet a type of fish?

As he does when he knows that one of “his girls” is almost ready for childbirth, Nick monitored the messenger candle in the living room with his gold eye. From the rabbit hutch he could see through his eyepatch, the shed, and the back wall of the cottage into the living room, and he saw a large, wide, dark purple candle flicker and a flame popped into existence. In another house, someone lit the small purple messenger candle Nick gave them, causing Nick’s candle at home to light. It was time. “Gotta go,” he said as he gave Octavia a quick kiss. “Looks like Desdemona is in labor.”

“Say hello to everyone for me,” called Octavia as Nick dashed into the cottage to get ready.

He came out of the cottage with a pack and stepped off the front porch and said hello to Mister Highgrower and his team of garden gnomes, then without fanfare of any type a chestnut quarter horse was standing where Nick had been, his pack clenched in her teeth.

As Octavia spoke with Sorcha and Tiernan Brighid, she began to realize how foolish her dreams were - to find a little home away from the toil and bluster of the big city and live together with Nick, to be the farm wife and cook him dinner and mend his torn clothes… she had to tell someone. “I’m sorry, you are all so kind and generous to us, but… I don’t know what to do with all these gifts…” That’s when the tears started.

On the other side of the cottage, the quarter horse dashed off. Nick went off to deliver Desdemona and Uther’s babies, yet all Octavia could think of was Nick eating scraps when he lived in the trash heap behind the temple of Saehrimnir. He was working hard to give her a beautiful home, but scraps were all she knew how to serve him. “What would your mother say if she saw you like this?” demanded Sorcha.

“My mother dropped me off at an orphanage when I was a month old.”

“Ok, uhhh, you said you had a foster father. What would your father say?”

“Saehrimnir? He wouldn’t care.”

“A god? You have a god for a foster father?”

Octavia nodded. “Yeah, he was Nick’s foster father also.” She saw a look in Tiernan’s eye and Octavia sputtered, “I was raised in the orphanage, Nick was out on the street, we never met. He was here in this cottage by the time I was moved to the university.”

“Here,” said Tiernan, as he tossed Octavia an apple. “You’re probably hungry, eat this.”

“Wha?” Octavia looked at the apple. It was old and shriveled. It was down in the root cellar, but a bite told her it was still delicious.

“Don’t talk, eat,” said Tiernan. “My father was a wise man. He told me that when the odds are insurmountable, have a snack, put your feet up, take a nap, just don’t think about it for a little while then come back and look at your problem again. He realized that we must give ourselves time to consider our problem first, then construct a logical way of attacking the problem. We don’t always need a solution, sometimes we just need a path to a solution.”

Sorcha rolled her eyes. She’s heard her husband carry on like a teacher before, him and his fancy fifth grade education! When Octavia finished her apple, Sorcha asked her, “Did that help?”

Octavia looked defeated, and she led them into the cottage. She stood in the kitchen and looked around in defeat. “This is so alien to me! I became a wizard by overhearing lectures. I studied library sciences and I loved it. I can find you any book ever written, ANY book, and as a wizard I can have a copy of that book in your hands tomorrow, but I have no idea what any of this is.” She picked up a kitchen tool that looked like a mattress spring on a wooden handle. “Why is this here?” she asked in distress.

“That’s a gravy whisk,” said Sorcha.

“And this?” she held up what she thought was a tin flower with a wooden stem.

“That’s a pie crimper.”

“See? I don’t know any of this!” cried Octavia, slamming the whisk down.

“Dearie, newlywed life is going to be like that. How long have you been married?” said Sorcha as the woman took Octavia in her arms.

“Four weeks… and most of that was spent waiting for Nick to come home.”

“The way I see it,” said Tiernan, “is that the failure is ours. You two don’t have a family upbringing and you both come here to help us. Right now, it’s more important for us to help you, otherwise we’ll be looking for a new witch again. You won’t last the winter!”

“Listen to him. He’s right,” said Sorcha, “we gotta give you twenty years of Uduithia upbringing. We’ll start with dinner. Tiernan, find us a nice, fat chicken…”

“Our biggest chick is this big,” she said, cupping her hand around an imaginary tennis ball.

“That’s ok, I know there’s something down in the root cellar. Tiernan dear, go inventory the root cellar and see what you can find. Nick said it was well stocked, and Octavia dear, you put some water on to boil.”

“Ok!” said Octavia, feeling excited for the first time. “How do I do that?”

Sorcha looked at Octavia as if the young woman had asked for instructions on how to breathe. “My goodness, we do have to start with the basics, don’t we?”

“I’ve never seen one of these things!” said Octavia as she pointed to the stove. “Silver Metsker said it best, I was raised in a princess factory. We were raised to be rich old men’s second wives.” She shrugged in helpless anguish. “I was never taught how to cook; I was taught how to hire a cook.”

“Ok, first things first,” said Sorcha. She patted a large, ornate wooden crate. “This is the woodbox. You need to train Nick to keep this full. And this,” she said as she patted a woven basket next to it. “This is the kindling basket; he needs to keep this full as well.” She opened the basket to show old periodicals and small bits of wood. She went to the stove and opened the small door in the middle of the face. “The door with the window is the fire box.”

Sorcha showed Octavia how to build a little fire with crumpled paper and bits of wood, and as the fire grew, to add larger pieces of wood from the wood box. “Ok, once you have the fire burning, keep the doors closed. Only open the oven when you’re going to put something in or take something out.”

“So I put water in the oven?” asked Octavia.

“Nope, here.” She took the pot of water that Octavia had ready and opened an almost invisible circle in the stove’s top with a tool she called a ‘stove wrench.’ Octavia could see the fire burning in the woodbox below. “You put your pan or pot or whatever over the open hole.”

“That is so interesting,” said Octavia as her scientific mind kicked in. Sorcha showed her how to operate the air dampers to control the flame in the firebox, and Octavia realized that she had a new toy to play with.

“Always keep honey nearby,” Sorcha advised.

“I don’t eat a lot of sweets,” said Octavia.

“No, honey is the best thing to put on a minor burn. This stove is going to get hot and you’re going to accidentally touch it. When you have little ones in the house, they’re going to touch this big hot stove because they see mommy do it, so be ready for burned little fingers.”

“Why? Can’t they tell it’s hot?” the thought confused Octavia.

“I suppose you don’t remember being a toddler in your parents’ house…”

Octavia grew a little cold and said, “I was abandoned at an orphanage when I was an infant.”

Sorcha continued on without showing shock or embarrassment. She now realized that Octavia was going to need more help than she had realized. “With toddlers it’s very simple; they love their mommies, they want to be just like mommy. They want to see what you’re doing. Here’s the hard part, at some point you’re going to let them get a minor burn.”

“What?” gasped Octavia.

“It’s the best way to learn. As they say, a cat will only jump on a hot stove once, then they’ll never jump on a stove again, hot or cold. When they do get a burn, you don’t act like it’s an emergency, you treat them with love, put some honey on the wound and send them on their way to their next lesson.”

Octavia glanced over at Ena McCrory in shock. She has children; she couldn’t possibly agree with this, but Ena was nodding in agreement. “It’s the best way, and if you are blessed with a house full of children, it may be the only way.”

While Octavia fretted over burning little fingers, Sorcha said, “Let’s go look downstairs, shall we?”

<><><><><>

Esadora “Ezzie” Fahy was dropped off at the Uther Borsen farm by her daughter-in-law. Nobody could mistake Ezzie for anything but a witch. Black gown, pointed hat with a wide brim, fashionable work boots, a leather satchel that acted as Ezzie’s purse, toolbox, and portable bar, and her badge of office: a broom. She tottered up to the front door and knocked twice, singing, “Coo-ee! Just Ezzie Fahy here!” Inside she could hear the sounds of a woman who completed labor, that cross between a laugh of joy and a cry of relief that it was over was unmistakable, but somehow it sounded wrong, there was a note of sorrow in her voice. “Are you a witch?” called a man’s voice from within.

“Yes, do you need help?”

“A little bit, if you don’t mind,” he said. “We’re upstairs.”

Ezzie entered the house to find two pairs of distraught grandparents, who were petrified with fear. Even the big guy, with bright red hair and huge as an oak, looked terrified. From the frightened looks on their faces, Ezzie assumed that it was the first grandchild for both couples. “First grandchild?” she said cheerfully. Having a wife in labor is one thing; having a daughter in labor is something else completely.

One couple nodded yes, but the other couple nodded no, and both couples had that look of horror that something had gone terribly wrong. “The new witch is upstairs with our Desdemona…” said a woman who clung to the immense man with bright red hair.

“And our Uther,” said the other woman, who was just as shattered as the redhead.

“Now, now,” said Ezzie. “In times like this we need each other.” She moved the two new grandmothers to the couch where they could lean on each other. “You fine gentlemen, do you have water boiling? No? Let’s get on it! The baby’s going to need a bath and mommy is going to need tea.” Men were easy. If their hands were busy, they could survive anything, and if worst came to worst, their women were going to need their support. “Which witch is upstairs now?”

“The new guy… Nick is his name,” said the red-haired woman.

“Don’t you worry none, Ezzie Fahy is here. We’ll get this right. If you get a pan of warm water for the baby, and a pot of tea for everyone else, I’ll go help the new mother,” and she headed upstairs.

Inside the main bedroom, she found the new mother with long, wavy red hair matted with sweat, and the new father holding a newborn, but at the foot of the bed was a man wearing leaf pattern robes and an eye patch cradling another child. With two fingers he was gently, rhythmically pressing the baby’s chest, but it wasn’t responding. Droul, the god of death, leaned over the young man’s shoulder, watching him work on the baby like a bystander watching a workman digging a trench.

“She had the cord around her neck,” Nick said to Ezzie. “Her sister Lynet is fine but this one…” Tears ran down his cheek as he whispered to the baby in his hands, “come on baby, come join us… please!”

Ezzie leaned over and patted his shoulder. “It’s ok luv, sometimes it happens…”

The young man turned and glared at Droul, “No, not two times in a week,” then he concentrated on the baby, “come on little one, you can do it, that spooky old black specter isn’t here for you… we have a name waiting for you if you sing for us… come on baby, sing!” he pleaded with tears of sorrow and frustration in his eye. “Please sing for us!” he said, his voice breaking with anguish. He leaned over and put his mouth on the baby’s and gave it a little puff of air.

That must have done it because the baby started coughing, then it tensed up and howled with a high, squeaky cry of a newborn baby. As the baby shrieked in indignation, Droul straightened up and said, “THAT’S ONE TO YOU. CONGRATULATIONS.” He patted the young man on the shoulder and faded from Ezzie’s sight.

Ezzie and the young man worked quickly to tie and cut the umbilical, then he called out, “What’s her name, Uther? She wants her name!”

The stunned father grinned and cried out, “Guendolen! Her name is Guendolen…” Nick handed Guendolen to the exhausted young mother, who laughed and cried as she counted all of Guendolen’s fingers and toes.

“Ezzie, can you take care of momma? I need to give Guendolen a warm bath. She’s freezing.”

“Aye! I can do that youngster. Fine work Mister Stein.”

“Nick, everyone calls me Nick,” said Nick as he and Uther headed down to the kitchen with the twin girls, both showing that they had their mother’s bright red hair. They rushed the twins to a pan of warm water and two pairs of grandparents that awaited them in the kitchen.

Ezzie cleaned up the shocked young mother and bubbled merrily about the babies. “I’ve delivered more babies than you can shake a weasel at,” cried Ezzie, “and I’ve never seen such a thing, ‘e snatched that little girl right back out o’ Droul’s own grasp ‘e did. T’was a good thing ‘e was ‘ere. Wos name of your witch again?” Ezzie was of a mind to have a talk with the local witch and find out why a man had to fill in for her.

“Nick,” smiled the exhausted Desdemona, the young mother.

“Yes dearie, ‘e was wonderful, but I was meanin’ to ask you the name of the local witch here in Elm Springs wot took over for Nana Partridge.”

“Nick is ‘is name, ‘e an’ ‘is wife just moved into Nana Partridge’s cottage just weeks ago.”

“Yes,” said Nick, coming into the room behind Ezzie Fahy. “Her name is Octavia. You were there at our wedding.”

“Oh! Heh, pahdon, oi didn’t mean to disparage on ya, it’s just…” Then she broke into a harsh whisper. “We all thought you was dead! Dead and gone and left poor Octavia to fend for herself and take over for Nanny Peacock.”

“We wouldn’t give our Nick up for any witch, ‘e saved our Guendolen,” said Desdemona as she finally got to cuddle her two daughters at the same time.

“We had our doubts,” said Uther, “but he’s our witch and we’re not going to lose him.”

Nick smiled and examined the mother and her daughters. “Look here,” he said, pointing at the squirming baby’s neck. “Guendolen has a strawberry shaped birthmark here on her neck, her sister doesn’t. That’s how to tell them apart.” He finished examining mom then said, “Ok, it’s going to be uncomfortable, but you need to get on your feet as soon as possible, because you’re going to spend the rest of your life chasing these two,” smiled Nick. “They have fire in their eyes!”

“What do we owe you?” asked a nervous Uther.

“Owe me? You owe me two beautiful daughters, so keep them fit and happy, because when I have two sons, they’re going to come calling for them.”

Uther suddenly panicked, but Desdemona calmed him. “’e’s kidding, relax. Octavia warned me about ‘im. Said ‘e’s a bit of a jester wannabe.” She turned to Nick and said, “how about two lambs? One for each of our lambs wot you gave us.”

“Done and done,” grinned Nick. “And bring these two redhead lambs to me in one month so I can check them over, and I’m going to leave this candle here until then.” He blew out the dark purple candle that was burning on the dresser. “Just light it if you need me and I’ll be here for you.” And with that, he turned and left.

Back at the cottage, Octavia looked up and saw the flame on the dark purple candle that sat on the end table in the living room go out. Nick always blows out the messenger candle when he’s done, which causes the candle in their house to go out. “Oh, my goodness!” gasped Octavia. “he’s on his way home.”

“Just in time,” said Sorcha Brighid. She and her husband Tiernan have been working with Octavia, teaching her the ways of country living. “You said you didn’t ever want to feed your husband scraps, so if you follow the few simple steps we showed you, you never will. Let’s start something new. We’re going to make gravy…”

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

Chapter 04 - Stardance

Ezzie Fahy sat on the tailgate of the wagon as they trundled along a country road. Behind her was Nick, who was walking with a wolf. “Coo-ee!” called Ezzie Fahy. “Would you like a ride with us, Nick?”

“Oh, I’m usually so stressed after a delivery, I like to walk with my dog afterward to burn off the energy.”

Ezzie shouted something to her daughter-in-law, and the wagon she was sitting on slowed to match Nick’s pace. Pepin hopped up on the wagon and curled up next to Ezzie, and she began scratching and petting him. “Is this your dog, the one wot likes to walk with you or is ‘e some other dog who happened to be going in the same direction?”

“That’s my boy, as faithful as the day is long.”

“That was quite amazing wot you did with that little girl. Wot made you think of that?”

Nick looked like he didn’t want to answer that question at all, but he needed to answer it truthfully. The accurate answer is that, for some reason, a medical encyclopedia will appear in his mind and open to the page he needs. It’s part of the knowledge that his foster father, the god Saehrimnir, dumped on him over a year ago. He finally said, “I read a lot and after I became a witch, I read an article from… some foreign place that said if a baby’s heart isn’t beating to do that. I figure since there’s a lot of foreigners it must work, and I gave it a try.” That was close to accurate and delivered in a way that Ezzie would appreciate.

Ezzie was merciless. When she wants information, she will get it; ask anyone of her fifteen children. “If you don’t moind moy askin’… ‘oo said that you were a witch?”

“Droul. He was pretty adamant about it. Him and King Uric.”

Ezzie took that in stride as if he had said, “I graduated from witching school.” She pressed on like nothing he said could faze her and said, “Oy suppose if the god of Death says you’re a witch, you’re a witch. And you told Droul ‘not two in a week,’ did you lose another baby? oy didn’t ‘ear of one.”

Now Nick looked like he wanted to run away. His eyes filled with tears, and finally with a sigh he said, “Octavia and I lost our first two days ago. She… we were a month along, but…”

“Oh my! You shouldn’t have been out there today! Not after losing your baby! Somebody else should have taken this delivery for you!”

“Who?” demanded Nick angrily. “Are you going to ride out to Elm Springs to help with a farm girl in her father-in-law’s house? Is that nosey Agness Dempsy going to come all the way from Soilly? Would either of you have been able to save that baby? Could you have made it in time?”

“You need to calm down luv, I just discovered you were still alive. We thought you died in some ferrin’ land when Octavia came back alone!”

“Well, ya could have come over and said hi instead of sitting in a tree and spying on me.”

“Wot? oy never!”

“Not you. I’m talking about Aunt Agness. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about Pepin and me running in the neighbor’s meadow the other day. We just lost the baby, and I had to burn off the anger before I told Octavia. I’m out running and feeling better and there’s a witch sitting in a tree spying on me without so much as a by your leave.”

Ezzie was confused. “Missus Dempsy didn’t mention you. She said she saw a hart with a golden eye…” That’s when Nick flipped up his eyepatch and Ezzie could see his right eye was made of solid gold. “Oh moi,” whispered Ezzie. “Where did you get that?”

“The Xuantang empire gave me that to keep me from eating their new emperor.”

“It’s very pretty. It’s a shame to hide it under that scary patch.”

“It scares people, but it works fine under the patch and the kids think the patch makes me look like a pirate… yarrrr.”

“You can see through that shiny metal eye cover?”

“It’s not an eye cover, it’s a replacement.”

“He got his eyeball stepped on by a sheep,” said Pepin as he rolled onto his back so Ezzie would scratch his tummy.

“Wot did you say?” a shocked witch asked Pepin.

“I didn’t say anything. Everyone knows that wolves can’t talk,” Pepin replied.

“Turn here, this is our driveway,” said Nick, then he ducked into the trees.

“Where did ‘e go, little doggy?”

Pepin flipped over onto his feet and sniffed. “I think he turned into an ape. He likes to swing through the trees.”

“Wot?” demanded Ezzie, but Pepin had leapt off the wagon. Soon Pepin was dashing through the trees, barking at a dark figure wearing a backpack as it swung through the trees.

“Catch that monkey!” shouted Ezzie Fahy as her daughter-in-law tried to get their old plow mule to pull the cart faster.

Nick howled like a prime male orangutan defending his harem as he swung through the trees. He covered the distance between Main Street and the cottage in half the time it normally took him to walk, and he was wondering if anyone noticed him beside Pepin.

Nick tried to avoid the ape’s bellowed war cry because he saw Tiernan Brighid’s wagon still outside of the cottage, so he popped out of the forest, climbed the outside of the cottage and rolled into the bedroom window and reluctantly changed back to human form. “Oh, it’s you,” said Octavia as she stepped into the bedroom as a naked Nick stood up.

“Oh, it’s you?” asked Nick, a little confused and probably more than a little upset.

“I thought it was an intruder, but this is much better,” said Octavia with a saucy grin as she reached for Nick’s manhood and pulled him close for a very warm kiss… “Don’t get too worked up, Sorcha and Tiernan Brighid are still here,” she said as their lips parted.

“I brought more guests,” sighed Nick. “it’s Ezzie Fahy and one of her daughters… or daughters in law.” He slipped on a kilt and shirt and followed Octavia down the steep staircase. The only thing keeping the staircase from being called a ladder was tradition. “She’s probably the most powerful witch in Uduithia.”

“Aww no sweetie, that would be you!” gushed Ezzie as she hugged Nick with a loud, “Darling!”

“Ezzie, this is Sorcha and Tiernan Brighid, my first grandparents, and this is the love of my life, Octavia Anghart-Stein.”

“Oi used to know a wizard named ‘orace Anghart,” gushed Ezzie as she hugged Octavia. “Quite the wild one ‘e was!”

“I don’t think the Baron Anghart was ever a wizard,” said Octavia.

“Oh, you should-a seen your man!” gasped Ezzie. “’e stared the god o’ Death right in the oie and said, ‘You’re not taking this child!’ And when that baby began to squall, Droul said, ‘You win Nick!’”

Octavia looked at Nick, and he just nodded, agreeing with Ezzie. It was close enough to the truth. Octavia was shocked. She’s only seen Droul once, and that was when he was standing over Nick in the Bovuka bush, and she’d just killed the dingaroo that was preparing to attack and eat Nick as he lay horribly injured in the dirt. With all her training at the Temple of Saehrimnir, she’s never seen that god until he tried to collect the man she fell in love with.

“How many times have you seen Droul in the past six months?” Octavia asked Nick.

He counted on his fingers and finally said, “Five.” He was not happy talking about the god of Death and he vowed to steal as many people from him as he could. Droul’s loss today was his own fault. He was the one who called Nick a witch, and Nick found he liked the idea.

“It’s been a long time since we last saw you Ezzie, you delivered our Davey,” said Sorcha.

“That oi did! Oi ne’er seen such a happy lad, most don’t like birthin’ but your Davey couldn’t wait to see his momma,” said Ezzie as she dug her flask out of her expansive cleavage and took a nip.

“Nick just delivered Davey’s daughter last week,” said Tiernan. “Things have sure changed since our day,” he continued as he squeezed his wife Sorcha’s shoulder. “Back then you’d never hear of the father helping with the delivery.”

“Th’ father ‘elpin’?” asked Ezzie, her eyes huge in surprise. She thought that Uther being in the room with Desdemona was to hold one baby while Nick took care of the other. That was the case, but not the whole reason.

“Helping as he should be!” insisted Sorcha. “He was there to place the order; he should be there to take delivery!” After the laughter died down, she continued, “I remember the whole time our Davey was being born, all of our sons, in fact, that I wanted my Tiernan there with me, but we didn’t do it that way back then.”

“Oh, Agness will never take kindly to this!” and Ezzie took another swig from her flask.

“Then if she ever has a child, she can have someone else help her,” said Nick. “I let all my girls and their men know that I expect the father to help.”

Just then a magical chime filled the air, and Octavia’s magical hourglass appeared in front of her. “Fifteen minutes!” she announced, then headed over to the stove that was filling the air with some alien (to Nick) fragrances.

Sorcha looked in the oven with Octavia and smiled. “You did it! Now remember the little lost boy, and good luck. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Sorcha hustled Tiernan and Ezzie out of the house, Nick explored the mysteries of the kitchen.

“Sorcha helped me decipher Nana Partridges’ recipes,” said Octavia as she eased the roasted, golden brown chicken out of the oven. “I wanted to make you a proper home cooked dinner, but I’ve never cooked anything. I didn’t know how this stove works and I did not want to make bread and cheese sandwiches again.” The bread and cheese sandwiches were made from welcoming gifts, slices of stale bread and dry, possibly moldy cheese. Nick ate them like they were mana from heaven because, compared to his previous diet, they were mana from heaven. But more importantly, the woman he loves made them for him. With every bite, Octavia felt guilty that she couldn’t make better.

Their little table was soon covered with the most incredible-smelling food Nick had ever been near. Even the fancy restaurants he and Pepin used to dine at… meaning they ate the scraps that they picked out of the rubbish bin, smelled nothing like this. Pepin was underfoot as much as Nick was while Octavia finished dinner preparations. “Boys! Relax!” said Octavia as she chuckled at their antics.

“It smells incredible,” said Nick as he came up behind Octavia and hugged her, his hands roaming over her lush, curvaceous body.

“Stop!” she warned. “I’m almost done here,” she said as she stirred a marvelous-smelling concoction on the stove.

“I can’t believe that you made all this.”

“And I can’t believe you saved that baby,” said Octavia. “When a senior witch like Ezzie Fahy says that you’re the most powerful witch in the kingdom, you’re the most powerful witch in the kingdom.”

“I got lucky,” said Nick as his hands got near her breasts, only to be swatted down. “What is that you’re making?”

“It’s a special treat for the other man of the house,” she said as she poured some gravy over a mixture of items that didn’t make it to Nick’s feast and set the dish on the floor for Pepin.

“Finally! Some food around this joint!” And Pepin was muzzle-deep in doggy nirvana.

“What was the lost boy Sorcha told you about?” asked Nick as Octavia placed dish after dish of delicious-smelling concoctions on the table.

“A little lost boy in the woods was eating dead animals and roots to stay alive for a long time,” said Octavia as she sat next to Nick and made up his plate for him. “When he finally got home, his mother made him a wonderful meal that tasted so good he ate it all as fast as he could and he ate it so fast that he ended up throwing up, but that left him hungry again but the food was all gone.”

“Poor kid, who was he?” asked Nick.

“It’s a parable that will hopefully help.” She loaded up a fork with some chicken and gravy and fed him a bite. Nick’s eyes lit up in surprise. He tried to grab the fork out of her hand, but she said, “No… chew every bit… now swallow… now kiss the cook.” After a very passionate kiss, she moved around the plate, feeding him bits of potato, yam, and Brussels sprouts, each requiring a kiss for the cook after each bite.

So delicious! So exquisite! Every bite was a culinary symphony compared to anything he’s ever eaten before. He saw why Octavia enforced the chew each bite rule, because if she wasn’t monitoring his intake, he would have eaten himself sick. “Sorcha says I’ll probably end up being the baker and you will be the better cook.”

“What’s the difference?” asked Nick around a mouthful of a flavor explosion that Octavia called a ‘brownie.’ These were not made of real brownies, which are closely related to pixies. That would be murder.

“According to Sorcha, cooking involves meats and veggies and stuff like that, mostly on top of the stove. Baking is the bread, cakes, cookies, and brownies.”

“Why?”

“Because baking is based on science, which is my specialty. Cooking is an art which is yours.”

“How can I pay you back for such a feast?” he was finally able to say as he finished the most delicious meal he’s ever eaten in his life. The delicacies of the castle at Termagant’s Bane were nothing compared to this.

“This is for you. What you did today was incredible.” She didn’t want him to know that the hardest part of the meal was killing, plucking, and gutting the chicken that Tiernan brought over from MacClenny’s farm. When she figured out what the units of measure were in the cookbook, it was easy, but there were feathers everywhere out behind the coops. “That baby you saved… her folks must be so amazed.”

“Babies are born every day…” he said softly as he gave his wizard a kiss.

“Chickens are roasted every day…” as she kissed her witch.

<><><><><>

It was a warm evening, and as the sun set behind the far mountains, Nick and Octavia made love by the pond. Octavia was still getting used to the fact that Nick loved to look at her as they made passionate love. She was told by the temple hags (priestesses) that sex was done in the dark behind a locked door. “So your husband doesn’t catch you?” asked one girl. That earned her a rap on the wrist, but the giggling was impossible to stifle.

Nick didn’t understand much about sex at all. He and Ziska were constantly busy and never had much time for each other. But with Octavia it was all good; everything they tried was better than the last thing. They learned quickly not to say “no” to each other unless they had a reason to. The locked-door idea went out the window the first time they made love in front of the big warm fireplace. And tonight, the silvery light of the enormous moon Kuu bathed them in a gentle spotlight as Octavia rode her husband to a screaming climax on the shore of their pond.

Octavia collapsed onto Nick, panting in the warm evening air. “I can’t anymore, not right now,” she said, leaving him unsatisfied.

“It’s ok,” said Nick. Octavia has ways to keep him happy; he’s sure she’ll make it up to him later.

“Let’s go inside,” she panted. “It’s going to get chilly.”

“No, wait,” said Nick. “The almanac says there’s going to be a stardance tonight. I want to see it.”

“Stardance? There’s no such thing.”

“That’s what you city folk think. In Breaze we’d put out the city gas lamps so everyone could see it.”

“Really?”

“The one in autumn is the best, usually on Whorl fourteenth, there’s no moon, only a sky full of stars,” he said as the stars that were visible began to rotate in gentle circles. “The stars that are farthest away move in bigger circles than the closer stars.”

“I’ve never seen this,” said Octavia as her eyes drank in the natural wonder.

“Something about Zigu passing close to Kodu that makes the core of Kodu shudder which makes the distant stars dance,” said Nick. Then he began to sing the nursery rhyme that has been sung to children all over Kodu for centuries.

“When mighty Zigu draws in near,

The stars begin to leap and cheer.

Four times a year they twirl and play,

To light up Kodu’s sky ballet.

So, close your eyes and count to four,

The dancing stars will shine once more.

They spin for joy, not fear or fright -

A gift from Zigu’s glowing might.”

“It’s a silly child’s story,” said Octavia. “Something to keep them from being scared in the night.”

“Look up little one,” whispered Nick. “The dance as started.”

Octavia looked up at the amazing Stardance, she was in shock as she watched the stars spin in their paths, some in tiny little circles, others in wide orbits, their dancing was exaggerated by the motionless moon Kuu and the nearby planet Zigu that glistened as a bright star that stood stationary in the sky. The Stardance in the month of Whorl was better? How could that be possible?

Overwhelmed by the celestial celebration, Octavia pulled Nick on top of her and gasped, “Now!” She moaned in splendor as she felt him enter her, and she brought her knees up, giving her man deeper access to her. She watched the stars spin; their different-sized whirls made the dance look complex and tangled. Something about the stardance made her desire Nick even more. They made love as if they would never get the chance again, and their cries echoed in the night.

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

Chapter 05 - Lessons

The next morning, it looked like the entire village of Elm Springs had turned up. In fact, they began showing up before Nick and Octavia woke up. “COME OUT WITCH! WE NEED TO TALK!” boomed a voice as big as the nearby mountains.

“Oh, damn!” groaned Nick. He and Octavia had planned to wake up with a naked dip in the pond, then some morning lovemaking on the shore before heading down to the temple. Octavia feels that as an ordained temple priestess she should do something with the local temple.

“What’s the matter dear?” asked Octavia.

“Sounds like the torch and pitchfork crowd wants a word with the witch,” groaned Nick as he pulled on a robe and his sandals, then rifled down the stairs and strode up to his front door. As he unlatched the door, Nick reached for his staff/broom/cane. The staff sat in the oliphant foot umbrella holder by the door with Octavia’s staff, and he had to make sure he had the right one. “Come on, stick, I need you.” He tried to lift the stick out of the umbrella holder, but it had become immobile, and Nick couldn’t lift it out of the umbrella stand no matter how hard he tried. “Come on, I might need you,” muttered Nick.

“You promised me a name!” demanded the cane that the goddess Saatus gave him.

“Oh, come on! I have an angry crowd outside the door.”

“All the great wizard’s staffs have names,” demanded the staff. “You gave Octavia’s staff a name.” It sounded as if the staff were pouting.

Nick sighed. Of all the times… “I hereby name thee Teivas, Staff of Destiny!”

“Teivas, I like it,” said the cane, and it became a powerful-looking staff.

Clutching his staff, Nick stepped out onto the porch and saw the small multitude filling his lawn while Pepin sat on the porch watching with an amused expression on his face. Even Mister Highgrower and his garden gnomes were glaring up at him. Nick looked down at the wolf on the porch and said, “I thought you were a watch dog.”

“I’m watching.”

“There is an element of calling out a warning involved with the job.”

“You said you wanted to sleep in,” responded Pepin.

Here we go, thought Nick, and he stood as tall as he could and said in a loud, masculine voice, “I AM CAPTAIN NICK STEIN, WITCH. AND THIS IS MY FAMILIAR PEPIN.”

“I’m more of a conscience than a familiar.”

“Shush, he’s on a roll,” said Octavia to Pepin as she stepped out onto the porch with a hot mug of tea in her hands.

“WHO WISHES TO HAVE WORDS WITH THE WITCH?” continued Nick.

A red-faced, red-haired walking mountain with a beard and a kilt stepped up to Nick. Even though the redhead was standing on the lawn and Nick was two steps up on the porch, the man mountain still stood taller than Nick. With a deep accent, he growled, “I DO.”

Nick stood firm, thinking of all the animals he could convert to, all of which could overpower this enormous man, but if he was angry or scared, Nick didn’t know if he could control himself when the animal takes over. He couldn’t run. He had to protect Octavia, so he had to stand firm. Let’s try diplomacy. “SPEAK YOUR PEACE, WE ARE ALL ELM SPRINGS MEN HERE!” Loud diplomacy, but it’s diplomacy.

“I AM FEENEY MACTAVISH AND DESDEMONA BORSEN IS MY DAUGHTER… AND THIS WITCH SAVED MY GRANDDAUGHTER’S LIFE!” He scooped Nick off the porch and swung him around, laughing joyfully. “ANYONE WHO HAS A PROBLEM WITH THIS WITCH MUST ANSWER TO ME!” and the crowd cheered and roared with laughter.

“Let him down, Feeney,” laughed someone from the crowd. “He’s turning blue!” It was now clear to Octavia and Nick that Ezzie Fahy had made sure that everyone in the county of Hay-on-Wægn knew he beat death by saving a tiny baby. At the same time, Sorcha and Tiernan Brighid asked everyone to come and help the newlyweds.

“WE BROUGHT YOUR PAYMENT FOR M’GIRLS,” boomed Feeney, and he gestured to the pond, and on the far side, Nick saw five white balls of fur thoughtfully munching on the rich green grass.

“I was only told two,” said Nick in a small voice.

“WE GRANDPARENTS THREW IN TWO MORE EWES AND A RAM T’ KEEP YOUR FLOCK ALIVE AND GROWING!”

“Let’s get to work!” cried Tiernan Brighid, and the second craziest day of Nick’s life began. The men of Elm Springs led Nick up the mountain and taught him the skills needed to survive a Black Mountain winter. He needed to learn how to harvest wood, harvest ice, harvest deer, and skin rabbits. They started with a lesson on how to select trees for lumber or firewood, how to fell the tree, buck it and split it.

“I know how to cut wood!” insisted Nick.

“Oh?” asked Tiernan. “Standing right here I can see at least three trees worth harvesting. Which ones would you take?”

Nick looked around, and all the trees looked healthy. “I don’t know, I’ve been cutting deadfall.”

“Aye, but that’s a resource that runs out all too soon. Looka here at this ash. An ash should have a thick canopy of leaves, like a maple or a beech; this one has only a few leaves. The poor old thing is dying, so we’ll bring her down.”

In less time than Nick thought was possible, the ten men converted a dying but majestic ash tree to several stacks of firewood, slowly drying and aging in the Kodu sunlight.

Nick dropped the tree with the two-man bandsaw; his partner made sure that Nick did most of the work. Then, they bucked the tree into eighteen-inch segments, and then split those segments into pieces that would burn properly in their fireplace or stove. As Nick sliced the tree with the bandsaw, teams of men took those pieces and split them into firewood faster than Nick could buck the trunk of the tree. The sounds of a saw slicing wood and a sledge striking a wedge filled the forest.

“Now see, you have sunlight breaking through the forest canopy with that tree gone, a place for deer to graze, and these saplings can grow,” said Ian McLeish. His wife, Aelwen, was overdue, and they’re both hugely reassured by the skills of their new witch after he saved the Borsen twins. Aelwen was currently in the cabin waiting to teach Octavia sewing skills.

Another man spelled Nick on the bandsaw, and as Nick stood bent over, gasping and gulping air, one of the guys saw an opportunity to tease his favorite witch. “TAKING A BREAK ALREADY MY LITTLE FRIEND?” boomed Feeney MacTavish. “WE’VE CHOPPED THIS TREE INTO STACKS OF FIREWOOD AND ALL YOU’VE PRODUCED IS SAWDUST!”

Dripping with sweat, Nick stood straight up and stepped up to Feeney and said, “Don’t make me show you why we sometimes call this Bear Mountain.”

“OH? ARE YE GONNA CONJURE UP A BEAR?” The gauntlet was thrown down.

Attracted by the sounds of men laughing, Octavia walked up to the site where wood used to be chopped and found Feeney Mac Tavish wrestling a black bear, surrounded by a crowd of laughing men. “Feeney!” she shouted, and both combatants rolled apart to look up at the sexy Enchantress. “Don’t hurt him. I have plans for him later.” And with a saucy wink and a sexy smile, she turned and headed back to the cottage with an extra sway in her hips.

The bear with a golden eye and Feeney looked at each other, then with a cheery “Oh ho ho!” from the crowd of men, the wrestling match was back on. Now the men of Elm Springs knew their witch was a shape-shifter, and it didn’t mean much to them, because he had become one of the guys.

<><><><><>

Back at the cottage, Octavia found Pepin was back out with their tiny flock of sheep, keeping them in a tight group. The sheep weren’t scared of him, just annoyed with him. Pepin and Octavia spent the morning under the tutelage of Linda MacTavish, Feeney’s wife, learning the ways of sheep wrangling. Pepin initially stated that this was demeaning and beneath him, but when he discovered that the reward for obeying Octavia’s “suggestions” and “requests” was bits of raw venison, Pepin discovered an inner sheepdog. At first he thought he’d hate it; a wolf should be eating sheep, not bossing them around, but Pepin discovered how much fun it was to bend these stupid walking puffballs to his will.

“We won’t have to do this too much,” Octavia whispered to Pepin, who was trying to get the sheep to stand in a line. As soon as they were done with their lesson, she drew a glowing fence around the sheep, keeping them safe in one area, then returned to the cottage where baskets of several fruits and vegetables and a case of glass jars were waiting for her.

“We’re going to learn the art of canning!” announced Erin Metsker. “Pay attention. You’re going to need to teach your husband. This skill is more important than cutting firewood.”

“Why is that?” asked Octavia, who was terrified of the stories she’s heard about Black Mountain winters.

“Because you can’t eat firewood,” said Ena McCrory, Erin’s daughter.

“First, we sterilize the jars, but we save that hot water,” said Erin.

Octavia nodded in agreement. She’s already learned that with a wood-burning stove, hot water was a precious commodity. She lowered the glass jars into the water, and Ena showed her how to prepare the lids.

While the children played outside and other women prepared their lessons, Octavia, Ena, and Erin blanched, skinned, cut, and pitted a dozen peaches. As they did this, there came a loud squawk from the other side of the room. It came from Aelwen McLeish, who was sitting in Nana Partridge’s chair. “I’ll go check on her,” said Ena, and she left the canning stations to go talk to Aelwen. A moment later Ena called, “her water broke, go get the witch.”

“Get the witch!” someone outside repeated, and one of the oldest girls playing outside raced uphill into the woods. She soon came back with Nick and the terrified-looking father, Ian. All the way down the hill, Nick was reassuring Ian.

“You don’t worry, if there’s any worrying to be done, it’s my job, ok? Keep reassuring her that’s she’s doing a good job.”

Ian wasn’t convinced. “How do I know if she’s doing a good job?”

“Because she can’t do anything but a good job. It’s all natural, her body knows what to do, it’s all up to me and the baby,” said Nick. “I’ll tell you what the baby needs, and you tell her.”

For her part, Octavia stayed at the sink working on the fruit, but she could hear Nick talking to Ian and Aelwen, calming and reassuring them, followed by a shriek of agony and surprise from Aelwen. “Sounds like everything is normal,” said Ena McCrory as she helped Octavia pack the jar with peach halves, but Octavia kept looking over her shoulder at Nick. “There’s no difference between any other time you’ve seen this except the husband is there to help and the midwife is a man,” said Ena.

“I’ve never seen it. I always wondered how it happened,” said Octavia softly.

“What?” gasped Erin. “You’ve never seen a birth?” The thought was inconceivable to Ena. Here in the mountains, childbirth is a family event, and watching a new brother or sister or cousin come into the world was common for all preteen girls.

Octavia never investigated the miracle of childbirth because she was destined to become a second (or third or fourth) wife to royalty. Childbearing was handled by the first wife; Octavia was trained to hire nannies for the first wife’s children. When she met Nick, she reversed the process that prevented her from having children and had been living in a state of excitement and terror ever since.

“No, I was raised in a temple orphanage,” said Octavia. “The babies were delivered in baskets.”

That caused Ena to laugh, but at the same time she felt sorry for her young friend. “Then go! Go watch the miracle!” said Ena.

Octavia washed the peach juice from her hands, and Ena escorted Octavia over to Nick’s side, where he was helping Ian and Aelwen welcome their child into the world. She helped Nick arrange Aelwen in Nana’s chair, then she crouched next to Nick, and he held her hand. There was a lot of crying out from Aelwen, and she helped Ian encourage Aelwen, and soon it happened. Her jaw dropped as the baby’s head began to emerge.

“It has daddy’s hair!” called Nick happily. It was still a new miracle to him, and he had to keep in mind that most of the women in the cottage had been through this in one form or another many more times than he had. He also had to keep foremost in his mind that this is Aelwen and Ian’s first child; they’re expecting him to have all the answers for them.

“What should I do?” asked Ian. His voice was on the verge of panic.

“You sit at her waist and encourage her. If I need her to do something, I’ll tell you what it is and you encourage her. You’ll pick up on it quickly.”

Octavia was stunned. She was both terrified of and enamored with the miracle of birth. “Can I do anything?” she asked Nick.

“Yes, you sit with me and hold that towel up, yes, like that.”

“What’s this for?”

Nick smiled and gave his wife a kiss. “Trying to preserve her modesty. This is her first, and she’s in a house full of people.”

“Thank you,” groaned Aelwen, who had been considering the same thing between contractions.

“In a few minutes we’re going to have a baby,” said Nick to Octavia. “When it comes I will put it in your arms, and you hold it in that towel. When it sings for us, Ian will give it a name, I’ll cut it free, then after mommy says hello, you and daddy take youngster over to the sink and give it a warm bath while I take care of mommy.”

Soon poor Aelwen was exhausted. She hadn’t slept for days worrying about this exact moment, and it’s taken a toll on her. “I can’t do it,” she said as she slumped back on the pillow. “I’m all done in.”

“That’s a shame. Everybody is here for the party,” said Nick with a sad look on his face. “Should we go home and try it again tomorrow?”

“Octavia was right,” panted Aelwen as another big contraction came rolling in, “you truly are a fucking son of AAAAHHHH!!!”

“This is the one!” Nick encouraged. “Push-push-push-push…”

And Octavia saw it - time stood still for her at the moment a new child came into the world. Her eyes were wide and full of tears as Nick put that tiny miracle in her hands and tied off the umbilical cord. The baby was shuddering and squalling, and Nick’s words seemed to come from far away when he happily cried, “What is the name for this beautiful boy Ian?”

Octavia almost cried out, “Marlon!” - the name she desired for her own boy when he finally arrives, but the new father, overwhelmed with awe, sputtered for a moment then said, “Ceiriog! His name is Ceiriog…” and reluctantly Octavia handed Ceiriog to his parents. Then after Aelwen kissed her new son hello, she and Ian went over to the sink where Erin and Ena had a warm bath ready for little Ceiriog. Octavia had the honor of holding Ceiriog while Erin showed the new daddy how to wash his baby boy. She looked across the room where Nick was taking care of Aelwen and their eyes met… I can’t wait for our own, she told Nick silently.

Me neither.

<><><><><>

A few hours later, the meal was ready, and people gathered to eat and celebrate the new baby and welcome the new witch and wizard on Black Mountain. A still dazed Octavia looked through the crowd and said, “Where’s my husband?”

“Queen Elinor has taken him up the mountain to look for herbs and Medicinals,” said a palace guard wearing armor.

“Does he realize she’s the queen? He won’t recognize her, I guarantee it. He can be oblivious at times.”

“I don’t think so mum, Missus MacTavish scolded him into going up there with her majesty when he said that he didn’t have time to pick posies.

“Oh no,” groaned Octavia. She had taken a break from canning lessons and spinning lessons and stepped outside to watch the activity. The side of elk that had been turning over a fire was deemed to be ready by the head cook, Merle Rorie, a neighboring farmer, and people were getting ready to eat, but they would not start without the Queen.

Stepping out of the forest behind the cottage came Nick and Queen Elinor. Her Majesty was dressed in a flowing ankle length flower pattern dress that she had had for years. It was a dress that any of the farmer’s wives or merchant wives here in Elm Springs would wear on a spring Sunday, but for Queen Elinor it was something she would wear all year round.

Nick was carrying a basket full of plants that had promised medicinal properties, and he and the Queen were discussing a notation he had made in the notebook he carried. In the past, he had only seen the queen in royal robes with her hair done up, a tiara pinning it in place, never in an old, fraying dress, with her hair down and glasses on her nose.

The entire assembly went silent and knelt as the Queen approached, but Nick missed that, he was reading his notebook when Elinor said, “Good people of Elm Springs, thank you for welcoming me to your feast, as Prince Exavier tells me several times a day, let’s eat!” When she said, “Let’s eat” the people rose and cheered their queen and stepped aside to allow her and her guards first choice at their buffet.

“How are you doing Mister Witch?” said Octavia with a smile as she stepped in front of Nick. He was so engrossed in herbology and his notes that he almost bumped into her.

“Hmm? Oh, this was fascinating, and Mrs. Queen invited us to her house on Thursday.”

“Missus Queen?” said Octavia, chuckling. When Nick is lost in study, he gets seriously lost. “You didn’t even notice that it was Queen Elinor, not some Missus Queen.”

“I uh… we were picking herbs… and…” he looked and Octavia was right; it was the queen. He had been swapping jokes and digging up mushrooms and herbs with the Queen of Uduithia for the past hour.

“And it’s not her house,” continued Octavia. “It’s the Palace we’ve been invited to.”

Nick suddenly felt cold. “Palace?” he said in a tiny voice. He was done. There were no more demon-gods to fight, no royal guards to command. He was hoping to hide in this cottage for the next sixty years.

“Let’s go apologize…” sighed Octavia, and she dragged Nick over to where Queen Elinor was seated with her children, Prince Exavier and Crown Princess Sophia.

<><><><><>֎<><><><><>

Chapter 06 - A New Position

Early Thursday morning, Octavia and Nick walked naked hand-in-hand to the pond where they bathed each other as the sun came up. Hands caressed each other as they splashed and played in the warm pond water. “Is this what you did when you were a kid?” asked Octavia as she rubbed her breasts on Nick’s back.

“Yeah, but this is more fun.”

He turned around in Octavia’s arms for a kiss, and she grasped his erect manhood. “Gods below!” she gasped. “Are you ever satisfied? We barely slept last night with your antics.”