Free Mercy's Prince by Katy Huth Jones Page A

had fallen in such a short time, and all because of
that miserable princeling. Until today, Caelis believed Valerian to be an
unfortunate accident of birth, and that Waryn had inherited the kingly
qualities of his father. Orland’s reluctance to carry out the sentence for
obvious treason demonstrated a weakness Caelis had never seen before. Was it
possible the younger son, and not the elder, took after the father?
    He smashed his fist against the door and
whirled away, heading for the armory. Only there did his bitterness fade. The
master armorer welcomed Caelis’ ideas and even now was implementing his design
for a grappling hook. The new bow still needed work, but Caelis knew it was
achievable. Even the armorer admitted to Caelis’ talent for weapon design.
    Smiling, Caelis took the steps down to the
armory two at a time. Let the king and his son wrestle with punishment and
mercy; Caelis would devote his time to saving the land from the Horde and so
make King Orland permanently indebted to him. He laughed as he approached the
door of the armory, startling a page who ran past him. More than the king would
be in his debt; Caelis would be a hero to all in the land, and Orland
would be a fool not to name Caelis his heir.
    Caelis opened the door to the armory and
inhaled the scents of leather and oils and metal. There was much work to be
done, and no more time for grief.

Chapter 8          
I
gave my heart to know wisdom.
    Mercy
knew she should return to the village right away, but her heart was so heavy
she didn’t feel prepared to deal with Aunt Prudence’s questions. Since she had
two buckets on her carry yoke, she decided to look for wildflowers before the
weather turned. One bucket of water would be sufficient for her and Rafael
until tomorrow.
    She
took one bucket off the yoke and wandered alongside the river half-heartedly
looking for flowers. How could Serene give up everything and everyone she’d
ever known for a feeling? Wasn’t love supposed to grow from the head as well as
the heart? Mercy would not have chosen to marry Gabriel, but now that the
choice had been made for her, it was her duty to learn to love him and honor
him as her future husband. Was there not happiness, or at least satisfaction in
doing one’s duty?
    Tears
came again, blurring her vision. She glimpsed a patch of blue in the grass and
wiped her eyes. Though she still could not see them clearly, she knew they had
to be balmflowers. She set down the carry yoke and cupped the flowers in her
hands. At that lightest touch, she Saw the certain knowledge of the
plant’s power to dull pain. She gasped at the clarity of it.
    Eagerly
Mercy scanned her surroundings and found a thistle. She touched the flower,
then the leaves, and finally the prickly stalk. At each touch, she Saw what each part would do to heal. It was as if the plants were speaking to her!
    It
wasn’t long before Mercy’s bucket was crammed full of flowers, stems, and
leaves. She’d collected not only balmflower and thistle, but feverfew,
goldenrod, and willowherb. She even discovered a new medicinal plant that she’d
always considered a dangerous weed, but upon touching the dragonwort’s flower
petals, she Saw that it would cause drowsiness. Only the stem and leaves
were poisonous. Perhaps, the dragonwort would help someone with insomnia.
    After
collecting several of the flowers, Mercy spied another plant, bloodroot, which
Papa had always told her to avoid as poisonous. She cautiously cupped her hands
around the pale flower with its frayed petals and Saw in the plant an
urgent warning of danger. The same warning persisted with the stem and leaves.
At an inner urging, Mercy dug up one of the plants to expose its fat, reddish
root. As soon as she closed her fingers around the root, she was given the
knowledge of its power to clot blood. Could this have helped Faith yesterday at
the childbirth? Even if it were only effective on external wounds, what a
blessing to have its