The Ballad of Rosamunde Read Online Free PDF

far beyond that of any
earthly insect.
    Rosamunde realized with a start that it was
a tiny winged woman. The fairy laughed at her surprise, a sound
like tinkling bells, then darted away, disappearing into the blue
of the sky with a glimmer.
    “And why do we not linger in this magical
realm?” Rosamunde asked Darg.
    “Late we are, late we must not be! Finvarra
waits impatiently.” The spriggan tugged again at the red cord
knotted around its waist. It spat in the grass with displeasure,
then snatched at Rosamunde. “Hasten, hasten, by the moon’s rise, we
must be safely at his side.”
    “Who is Finvarra? And why do we go to
him?”
    “Questions, questions, instead of haste!
Your queries do the daylight waste! We have far to go without rest:
Finvarra will accept no less.”
    They crossed a bridge, the river running
beneath looked to be made of mead. Rosamunde caught a whiff of its
honeyed sweetness and saw a cluster of bees hovering at the shore.
A beautifully-dressed suitor offered a golden chalice of the liquid
to his lady, who flushed, fluttered both wings and lashes, then
accepted his tribute.
    “But why do we go to this Finvarra? Who is
he and what hold has he over you?”
    Darg spun abruptly, facing Rosamunde with
fury in its eyes. “A match I lost, the price my life. His demand
was you as his new wife. High King of Faerie is his task, a man
whose patience does not last.” Darg wrestled with the red cord,
then released it with disgust. “This bond he knots, it burns me
true; ‘til you are his, this pain my due.”
    “You traded me to the Faerie King?”
Rosamunde demanded, bracing her hands upon her hips. “What if I
have no desire to be his toy? Or that of any other man, for that
matter? I will not go complacent to his court, no matter what you
have promised.”
    “I pledged my word, I swore my life;
Finvarra will have you as his wife!”
    “I think not.” Rosamunde turned her back on
her vile captor, having no inclination to make such a submission
easier. She surveyed the beautiful countryside and spied a man
tending a pair of horses that were drinking mead on the bank. He
was handsome, and his gaze was bright upon her.
    His hair was as dark as midnight, and if she
narrowed her eyes, he could have been mistaken for Padraig.
    Save that Padraig had neither wings nor
pointed ears.
    Perhaps he could aid her in finding
Padraig.
    When the Faerie knight smiled, Rosamunde
found herself smiling in return. “I will take my heart’s ease here
instead,” she said to Darg and turned her back upon the
creature.
    “No!” Darg screamed, as once the spriggan
had screamed before in Rosamunde’s presence. She glanced back
warily, then ran when she saw the spriggan had become a large and
menacing black cloud. When enraged it could change shape with
frightening speed - the last such eruption had led to Tynan’s death
by shattering the caverns.
    “I saved your life, it’s mine to give,” the
spriggan shouted. “I trade it now so I shall live!”
    Rosamunde ran as quickly as she could,
feeling the other faeries watching her with bemusement. She could
not outrun Darg’s fury, however. Her heart sank as the dark cloud
enveloped her, surrounding her with fog as black as night.
    Then she was snatched from the ground, as
helpless as a butterfly caught in a tempest, and carried away. She
thought she heard someone cry out, but Darg did not slow down.
    Finvarra’s wife. King or not,
Rosamunde had no interest in his attentions. The very fact that he
would trade a faerie’s life for a woman, with no consideration of
any desire beyond his own, was no good endorsement. She struggled
and fought, knowing it was futile, and she wished again for a loyal
friend to fight at her back.
    Padraig. How could she have been so
blind?

    *

    Padraig fondled the strange stone in his
pocket as he returned to the tavern that night. It was falling
dark, the sun blazing orange just before it slipped beneath the
horizon.
    He could not dispel