In the Shadow of Mountains: The Lost Girls
Page 31
Chapter Thirty
The Searcher
Prince Harold argued with his father. It was unusual for him to do that. Of the King’s two sons, Harold was the most reliable, calm and well-adjusted. His brother on the other hand was notable for his carousing and enthusiastic participation in all of the fun things in life. Prince Harold had never been envious of Carl’s lifestyle or of his inheritance. The only time his brother’s activities annoyed him was when he was expected to pick up the pieces. Like now.
“But I had other plans for this day, father!” he said angrily as he faced his father in the drawing room of the Palace.
“Then cancel them!” King Edward L’Hage replied sternly. “Your brother is missing! The Crown Prince of the Realm! And all you want to do is waste the day fishing!”
“I am not going fishing!” Prince Harold replied, his hands on his hips.
“Oh no? It may not be fish you intend to hook, but I know your plans for my wife’s Lady in Waiting! The Crown Prince is more important!”
“He’s always more important!” Prince Harold snapped. “And often enough I’ve wasted my day searching for him only to find him drunk in the arms of a wench in some tavern!”
“You had better hope he is in the arms of a wench! It is well past noon, and he left in the middle of the night with nought but five men with him! I will argue no more! You will go and find him and bring him back! I command it!”
King L’Hage turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, throwing the doors wide and scattering footmen and maids who had gathered outside to listen.
Prince Harold turned his back on them and stormed out of the drawing room through the door at the opposite end of the room. When he threw back the doors, it wasn’t servants he found, but his mother, Queen Charlotte.
Prince Harold stopped and sighed when he saw the expression on her face. He closed the doors behind him and leaned against them.
“He is always late, mother,” he said calmly.
She nodded. “I know. But your father worries. I worry. And he has never been gone this long.”
“He’s always gone this long.” As soon as he spoke, Harold knew his words were untrue. “Well, maybe not this long. But each time is longer, and next time will probably be longer still.”
“You are right, but it doesn’t stop me worrying. It never stops me worrying. And don’t you men think I don’t know what he’s up to, stealing away in the middle of the night! I blame Sir Anthony. He is a bad influence on your brother, and he has a hatred of the Destroyers that borders on madness.”
“They killed his father,” Prince Harold replied, as if in excuse.
“Yes, for doing the same thing he now teaches your brother!”
Prince Harold held up his hands. “Don’t make Carl out to be the innocent one, mother. He knows what he does and what risks he takes.”
“Does he? Does he really?” Queen Charlotte asked, her eyebrows raised. She placed her hands on Harold’s chest. “You know I love you both, and that I have always treated you fairly. Some would say that it is the youngest that a mother favours. Maybe they are right, but I have always trusted and respected you. You have always acted with dignity while Carl has often scared me. I know you will do well, but I worry for Carl. You have your father’s strength while your brother has your father’s spirit.”
Prince Harold would have argued that point with her, but she pressed her fingers to his lips. “You think not? Your father was crowned at an early age; he was never able to act as irresponsibly as your brother. Before I married him, Edward was unruly, arrogant and downright unpleasant. He forgets, but he was far worse than Carl was when he was younger, but he was also far more restrained by those around him. He was King, and there were limits.
“God willing, there will be many years before your brother is crowned. I fear for those years, and for your brother’s sanity as he waits for the inevitable, his life on hold, and the responsibility of being Crown Prince forcing him down a path he may not wish to choose.”
Prince Harold took her fingers from his lips, holding on to her hand. “Many would jump at such a chance,” he replied. “And never notice the weight of responsibility you speak of.”
“Would you? Would you take your brother’s place?”
Prince Harold sighed once more and shook his head. “I have a mind to marry whom I choose.”
“Gwendolyn,” Queen Charlotte said and smiled at her son’s blushes. “You think I do not know what goes on with my youngest Lady in Waiting? I will speak with her. She will not be angered if you break your appointment. There will be other sunny days, and other picnics.”
Prince Harold smiled wryly. Was there anyone at the Palace that didn’t know of his interest in Gwendolyn? He squeezed his mother’s hand.
“How did I know when I saw you that my determination to defy my father’s command would be so easily undermined? I had thought to ride around and return without effort, knowing that Carl would probably turn up in my absence.”
“And if he did not?”
“Then I would have looked the fool, and deservedly so.” He squeezed her hand once more, and kissed her cheek. “I will do as you ask, mother. I will find him and bring him home. But promise me this: If I do find him in the arms of a wench, make his life a misery for me as easily as you make mine a joy.”