Douglas Niles - The Druid Queen

"The firbolgs?" Finellen asked grimly. "What should we do with 'em?" The tone of her voice indicated that she favored a quick and permanent disposal of the captives.

"This one saved my life," Tristan said, picking out Thurgol among the dejected giants. "He made the troll put down his sword when I was unarmed. Otherwise I'd have been dead before the earthquake."

"They deserve a pardon," Robyn noted.

"I don't want them back in the vale!" Finellen protested.

The king looked around at the wilderness of rocks and trees that surrounded them. No firbolgs lived on Oman's Isle, so far as he knew, but perhaps that could change. There were far fewer humans here than on Gwynneth.

"Can you make a home here?" Tristan asked Thurgol. "Can your people live in these highlands and stay away from the settlements of humans?"

The giant-kin blinked in surprise, obviously having expected a more brutal suggestion. "Yes-we stay," he agreed with a jerk of his head. The king saw an old hag of a giantess nodding at the chieftain. The new community would get off to a solid start, he suspected.

"I have learned a truth about my own home," Robyn said quietly. "For too long I have ignored the depth of my calling, the commitment that is rightly the cost of our triumph. I wanted it both ways-the strength of spirit within, while I surrounded myself with the trappings of royalty. But it was wrong.

"I cannot live in the castle, nor in the shelter of the town. My calling is real and true. I am a druid again, and such shall be my destiny until I die. There is only one place I can live."

"Where …?" Tristan began, but of course he knew the answer. He surprised himself by greeting the knowledge with a sense of pastoral calm, almost of relief.

"I must go to Myrloch Vale, return to the grove of the Great Druid."

For a time, no one spoke. Hanrald looked at the queen in wonder, Tristan and Finellen in shrewd appraisal. The king nodded once, with regal dignity, and then again as the idea settled in.

"Will you have room for another there?" Tristan asked. "One who will be a hard worker, although he has only one hand?"

Robyn smiled gently, touching the king's arm. "You'd come to live in the wilderness with me? What about the kingdom? How will you rule?"

"We've ruled together for twenty years-a good, long reign," Tristan replied. "But you don't think I could do it apart from you, do you?"

"But what… how …?" The queen's eyes shone as she looked at her husband. He smiled and took her in his arms without at first replying.

Alicia and Keane came up arm in arm. The princess's eyes were red, but at least her grief-stricken expression had given way to a look of, if not joy, a mixed sense of happiness.

"Our daughter will make a splendid queen," Tristan continued. "She has proven many times over that she's ready to rule. And now, perhaps, she may even be ready to announce her king!"

As if signaling approval, a high, keening voice rolled through the highland, and all the companions grew silent as they listened for several moments to the cry of a proud, lone wolf.