So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)

Gunther’s eyebrows rose. “You can find it?”

She nodded. “I would need to touch something that once belonged to the deceased queen. Then I should be able to envision the seal’s whereabouts. So if you will allow me to find it—”

“Of course!” Gunther smiled. “By the Light, you may be worth the gold I’ve had to spend on you. So, once you help Mador find the seal, he will win the final quest.”

Brigitta bowed her head. “As you wish.” But it would be Rupert she would be handing the seal to, for he was the rightful owner.

Gunther’s smile faded as his face turned sour once again. “I’m having some soldiers check to see if you really spent the night at the camp that Seven’s servants set up. If I catch you anywhere near that Seven, you will be sorry. Painfully sorry. Do you understand?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

*

Brigitta looked away as the heavy stone lid was pried off the top of a crypt. Forgive me, Your Majesty. She hadn’t wanted to disturb the late queen’s grave, but apparently, there was nothing left of the woman’s belongings but a pair of shoes. After the queen’s body had been burned, Garold’s soldiers had dumped the bones in this crypt, along with the shoes that had slipped off her feet as she’d fallen to her death.

Brigitta had traveled for three days with Gunther’s caravan. They had headed north, and as the terrain grew increasingly mountainous, their progress had slowed. The Highlands of northern Tourin were famous for their mines of gold, silver, and precious jewels, which had made the northern clans rich and powerful.

The most powerful clan had been the Trepurins, who had owned the gold mines. For four hundred years, they had been the reigning House of Tourin. But when Brigitta’s father, Garold, had defeated King Manfrid, he’d taken over all the gold mines and palaces.

Last night they’d spent the night at the old palace from which the Trepurins had once ruled the country. It was nothing but an empty shell now, for everything of any value—all the gold, tapestries, furnishings, and dinnerware—had been looted and taken south to the palace at Lourdon.

Brigitta hadn’t been able to see Rupert, but according to Brody, he had spent the night in the stables under guard. Her heart had ached, knowing how hard it must have been for him to see his childhood home this way. She’d wandered the empty hallways, imagining Rupert growing up as the young Prince Ulfrid, surrounded by a loving family he would lose before the age of seven. She’d sat in the overgrown garden, picturing Rupert there, playing with his younger brother, Bjornfrid.

And if that hadn’t been hard enough on Rupert, now they were disturbing his mother’s grave. He hadn’t even been allowed into the chapel. He was under guard outside in the village square.

They had arrived at this village around noon. When the queen and young prince had fled north, this village was as far as they had reached before Garold’s army had caught up with them. Looming over the village was the mountain where Garold’s men had chased the queen to her death.

A loud grating noise echoed through the stone church, and Brigitta gritted her teeth. Forgive me, Rupert. The bell clanged overhead, and she wondered if a sudden gust of wind had swept through the bell tower, a gust of wind that might have been caused by Rupert’s distress.

“Get on with it,” Gunther ordered as Captain Mador held a torch over the gaping dark hole at the foot of the crypt.

Brigitta ventured a peek inside. Bones, and the faded red leather of a woman’s slipper. With a grimace, she reached inside to touch the shoe.

A deluge of emotions struck her so hard, she withdrew her hand and stepped back. Horror, fear, grief. She steeled her nerves and this time when she touched the shoe, she concentrated on the royal seal.

She squeezed her eyes shut as anxiety and fear enveloped her. She saw the seal, the top portion made of blue lapis lazuli with an arched handle of gold in the shape of a dolphin. Blue and gold, the colors of Tourin, and the dolphin, a symbol of the coastal nation. A woman’s hands were holding the seal, and they trembled as they wrapped it in brown wool.

“We must hide it,” a woman’s voice whispered. Rupert’s mother. She set the seal in a golden bowl and stuffed lamb’s wool all around it. “You must never tell anyone where it is.”

“But Daddy will want it when he comes back,” a young voice whined.

“He…” The woman’s voice broke with a sob. “He can’t come back anymore.”

“What about Ulfie?” the young boy asked.

The woman sniffed. “I hope he can. I hope he’s still…” She quickly stuffed another golden bowl with lamb’s wool. “If Ulfrid comes for the seal, you can give it to him. Understand?”

There was a whimpering sound, then the boy cried, “I miss Ulfie.”

“I know.” With a muffled sob, the woman fit the two bowls together. With a twist, they fastened together, forming a golden orb. She wrapped the orb with more brown wool, then slipped it into a woolen bag. “If something happens to me, you must hold on to this. Remember, Bjornfrid. It is precious. Never let it go.”

“I’ll remember, Mama.”

Brigitta withdrew her hand from the crypt as the vision faded. A golden orb. Her gaze shifted to the church’s altar. Traditionally, all the churches of Enlightenment had a golden sphere or disk at the altar to symbolize the sun god, called the Light. Unfortunately, Gunther had long since confiscated all the golden orbs in Tourin. Churches had been forced to make their sun globes out of brass or yellow-painted wood.

This church was no different, for there on the altar was a yellow, wooden orb on a cushion of blue velvet. Could the seal be inside? Or had Gunther taken the golden orb to his treasury in Lourdon? If he had, he might actually have the seal in his possession without realizing it. Hopefully, the queen had managed to hide the orb containing the seal.

“Well?” Gunther peered at her closely. “Did you see the seal? Do you know where it is?”

“It was buried in a garden,” Brigitta lied. “A castle garden.”

“That’s all you know?” Gunther scowled at her. “Every castle has a damned garden.”

She shrugged. “I believe it would be a castle that belonged to the former royal family.”

Captain Mador watched her carefully. “There are several castles nearby that were owned by the Trepurins.”

“You could try Trepurin Palace,” she suggested. It was a three-hour ride from here. That would give Rupert the chance to check out the local churches.

“I’ll check the palace,” Gunther said. “Mador, you take some soldiers to search the other castles.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Mador motioned for the soldiers to follow him out.

“Are you coming?” Gunther asked Brigitta. “Or shall I have some guards escort you back to camp?”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll go back to camp. I’m really tired of traveling.”