“Nerina, go downstairs. I’ll deal with you in a minute,” the man said using a tone of voice that Luca had not heard him use before. Nerina did not argue and hung her head low as she slowly left the room, but not before glaring Luca’s direction as she went.
“I must apologise, your Majesty, for her outburst. Rest assured she will be punished accordingly,” Lord Oakley said, continuing in the same tone as earlier. It was a voice that sounded confident, but one that suggested he was serious and annoyed. Luca got to his feet, “I just wanted some clothes,” he said, “but alas your servant couldn’t assist, so I sent her away. Narina thought to speak her mind, and shout abuse at me for doing so.”
Lord Oakley gave a single nod of his head as he listened.
“This is all very difficult for me Lord Oakley. Having to endure such discomfort is not something a prince should have to deal with. Perhaps you can arrange some clothes for me?”
Again Lord Oakley nodded his head and turned around without saying another word he left Luca to be on his own once more.
Nerina stood somewhat crestfallen as she awaited her father to return from upstairs. Knowing she was in trouble, she somehow did not regret what she had said to the prince. He was all those things she accused him of and probably a lot more besides. Yet her family was preparing to go to war for him, risking everything they had for a boy who thought of nobody but himself. Hearing her father’s approaching footsteps as they pounded on the stone floor, she waited nervously. Lord Oakley requested she go to his study, and without argument, Nerina did as was asked. After closing the door behind him, Lord Oakley took his seat behind the large oak desk he so often sat behind when busy carrying out his official business. Clasping his hands together, Lord Oakley looked up at his daughter.
“This is difficult for us all,” he said in a much softer voice than she had anticipated. While yelling and screaming was not something her father did, she had at least expected some stern words to be directed her way.
“I know what you think about our guest, but he is our rightful King, and as such we must obey. Moreover, we cannot go ranting and raving at him.”
Nerina looked at her father, and although she knew she probably shouldn’t, she felt the need to reiterate everything she had said to Luca.
“I agree. He is,” Lord Oakley replied, stunning his daughter to silence. “However, he is just a boy who knows no different. He is probably scared, lonely and unsure as to what the future holds. Think about it. He has just lost his mother and father, possibly one of his sisters, and the other one is taking what he had always believed was rightfully his.”
Nerina nodded her head, “Sorry, Father.”
“It’s not me you should be saying sorry too, is it?”
“I guess not,” Nerina sighed as she knew what needed to be done.
“Oh and when you’ve done that, you can then carry out your punishment,” Lord Oakley added.
Thinking she was going to get away with just a talking-to, Nerina turned her head back towards her father, “What must I do?” she asked thinking she would be spending the next week doing house laundry or something along those lines.
“As Madine doesn’t seem to keen on our house guest, I want you to do it.”
“What! You want me to play housemaid to him?” Nerina asked, sounding somewhat shocked.
“I do!” Lord Oakley said firmly. Nerina went to speak again, but her father raised his hand and waved her out of his study, explaining he had important work to be doing and was not going to tell her again.
By the time Nerina had trudged back upstairs, Edward had made his reappearance. Taking up a position on the inside of the doorway, he watched on as she slowly stepped into the room.
“What do you want?” Luca snarled her way spotting her walking in from his position on the bed.
“I wish to offer my sincerest apologies for my little outburst.”
“Fine you’ve done that, now go.”
“I can’t. Father says because you have upset the member of staff he has given you, as my punishment I have to take her place.”
Edward tried his hardest, but the more he attempted not to laugh the worse it got. In the end, he gave up trying and roared with laughter, although neither Luca nor Nerina could see the funny side of the situation they now found themselves in.
Chapter 7. The Truth Revealed.
Eli, a young man in his early twenties, had been a Royal guard for the past three and a bit years, having joined up as a trainee the year before that. Although training was inevitably hard, and only the best were chosen, he had managed to get selected nonetheless. During his time in service at the palace, he had become familiar with the other soldiers and knew many of them outside of his work as well. However, Eli had been just as oblivious as all the others as to why so many new faces had started appearing among their ranks over the past few weeks. Thinking it nothing more than the king boosting the numbers in anticipation of the royal wedding, nobody had really asked any questions as to why.
Since the murder of the king and queen, the royal guard had understandably been the ones to blame, the result of which he was now bearing witness to. Hiding away, under the cover of his cloak hood, Eli mingled among the crowd that had gathered for the very public execution of some of his colleagues. Six in all had been rounded up and sentenced to death by the new queen regent and her husband, proclaiming themselves in charge since the loss, and the apparent disappearance of the crown prince and older princess. Eli was not the only one to think it a little strange that as soon as the situation was right for Princess Elysia to take the throne, that all the threat of cultists running amok in the capital ceased to be a concern. Instead, members of the Royal Guard had started to be blamed and arrested for their part in the regicide. As a result, Eli and a handful of others had seen sense to make good their escape and were now in hiding.
The trials of those captured were farcical at best, and purely more for show than for any real expression of justice being served. Eli, had also noticed something else that did not sit right. Some of the newer members of the Royal Guard, those that had appeared in more recent weeks were now wearing the colours of Lord Elthan’s house. While Eli doubted many would have picked up on this, he had been on duty with one such man several times and was now looking at him as he was one of the dozens of soldiers overseeing the executions. That was something else that was a little strange, although Eli was sure some of the other nobles had also picked up on it. The fact that so many of Lord Elthan’s soldiers just happened to be close at hand to restore order, certainly must have looked suspicious. With all this evidence, Eli was now convinced that the murders must have been part of some elaborate plan by Lord Elthan and his son to take the throne. While not actually the one in power, the fact that their house was now tied to what everybody assumed was the last remaining royal heir, would see any children they had, continue the royal line, but in Lord Elthan’s lineage.
However, from sneaking about the capital for the past couple of days since all the trouble had begun, Eli had picked up several other titbits of information. Having come from a less than favourable background, and grown up in the poorer quarters of the capital, he knew the places to go, the places to hide and more importantly, the people to talk to. One small, insignificant piece of information, and probably not something anybody would even think twice about had him thinking that perhaps there was still some hope for at least one of the other royals. Just after the incident on the wedding day, Lord Oakley had taken his wife and three children out of the city that night. Although nobody had thought anything odd about this, Eli had thought there was something wrong. While most of the nobles were trying to escape the city for risk to their own lives, the fact that he had seen Lord Oakley leaving that evening had played on his mind for some time. Spotting the Lord ride out with his wife, son and two young daughters had not seemed odd at the time, but having now learned that Lord Oakley only had two children, Eli had surmised that perhaps the family had left so suddenly fo
r another reason.
Eli glanced up one last time as a drummer started banging out a rapid beat indicating that those with the nooses already around their necks were about to die. Having spotted one of his old commanders upon the gallows, Eli felt a sense of helplessness at not being able to help, and as the drum abruptly ceased the massacre of innocent lives began. There were a few gasps from the watching crowd, even a few cheers as some thought those responsible for the death of their king had been dealt swift and brutal justice. Eli, however, knew differently, and he was certain that those guilty of the crimes were the very ones now residing on the throne. If he and the handful of other Royal Guards were going to clear their names and see justice done, Eli knew what he needed to do.
Not wanting to see his old friends swinging by their necks, he turned away and pushed his way through the crowd and away down a side street. Here, there were just a few people, those with better things to do than watch innocent men die at the hands of a false ruler. Although only Queen regent at the moment, once the other nobles could be convinced that Elysia was the last remaining royal, she would be proclaimed queen proper, thus elevating Lord Elthan’s son as the prince consort. From what Eli had learned about the princess Elysia, was that she was besotted by her new husband, and would evidently do anything he wished of her. If indeed that was the case, then Eli knew the true power lay in the hands of Lord Elthan’s family, something that would not be good for the rest of the kingdom.
Having agreed to meet up with a few of the others who were hiding, Eli, cast his eyes around just double checking that he wasn’t being followed or watched. He doubted anybody knew that he was a Royal Guard, but having just seen some of his former colleagues die, wasn’t about to give anyone the chance to find out. Using an old abandoned house on the outskirts of the city, the group were ready for departing when Eli returned. Giving them the news they had been waiting for, the seven of them collected their meagre belongings together and headed outside. Thankfully, one of the men had managed to gather a few supplies from his brother who owned a shop in the city, as well as two horses. Another man had managed to ‘acquire’ enough horses for the rest of them, and although Eli was certain the creatures were probably someone else's property, he hoped to be long gone by the time the alarm was raised.
So not to arise suspicion on their way out of the city, the group split into three, with Eli among the first two riders to make their exit. In a way, it was to their advantage that Lord Elthan’s own soldiers now patrolled the outer gate, meaning that none of them would know who he was. With the old Royal Guard all but disbanded, many of the duties they performed were now being overseen by the soldiers from Endallen. Although carrying his sword, Eli had thought it better to not do so on his person. Instead, he had cleverly wrapped it in a burlap cloth and attached it to the underside of his horse. Unless the guards thought to look underneath the creature, his blade would be hidden from the general eye line of the soldiers on duty.
Eli waited just off the main track as his group passed through the city gates a few at a time, so they could re-assemble. The delay was only a short one, and with the morning sun already well up into the sky, the seven Royal Guards headed southwards towards Scarwood. Although still only a hunch, Eli had managed to convince the others this was their best option, and if he were right, they would find the Prince at the end of their travels. Moving their horses at a quick walk so not to tire them to quickly, they were all aware it would take a day or two to get where they needed to go, and with the city now behind them, they hoped most of the danger was gone.
Princess Imogen, the eldest daughter of the fallen king, sat alone on the small balcony of their hideout. With at least twenty soldiers patrolling the grounds below her, her father-in-law, Lord Romley of the Northern Marches was doing everything he could to protect her. Having managed to smuggle her out of the capital as soon as the troubles started after the wedding, her whereabouts had been kept a secret ever since. With her husband having business to attend to, she was in some way all alone. Although her birth mother had died some years back, the loss of her father had hit her hard. With only snippets of news to go on, Imogen had tried to build her own picture of exactly what had gone on. Her younger sister was apparently claiming the throne, something Lord Romley and his son were already planning to oppose. Yet, it was the apparent loss of her younger half-brother that caused her the greatest distress.
Although Imogen had always considered her relationship with either of her siblings as not particularly close, the fact that Luca had been so young was very upsetting. Just a boy of thirteen and apparently murdered while resting in his bed, a situation that her imagination played over and over in her mind. As the eldest of the two female children of the king, it would be up to her to take the throne, not her younger sister, and it appeared that Lord Romley was going to see that was the case and use force if necessary. The reason her husband had been needed elsewhere was to help rally Lord Romley’s bannermen. With the Northern Marches spread over a wide area, it would take some time before any force could be assembled at Whitmore Castle. In the meantime, Imogen was to remain hidden from general view, staying in a country lodge, which had been owned by Lady Romley’s late aunt.
Set in the forest, it was located near the northern tip of Romley lands. Accessed only by a winding road that led up the steep incline, it was deemed the safest place for her to be until such time as Lord Romley had sufficient numbers to escort back to Miranor to contest the throne. Although nice and quiet, the lodge was a far cry from the fine living she was accustomed to both at the palace as a young girl and Whitmore Castle since her marriage. Here, everything was more rustic, and although nice in its own way, was not something Imogen was accustomed to. Timber walls decorated by the heads of wild animals, killed and stuffed as trophies. Wooden floors that were covered in furs and furniture that Imogen could only describe as crude at best. However, she was alive and well, and although sad and confused, was determined to see justice for her dead family members.
Lord Romley was a proud and loyal man, who took it upon himself to protect those closest and dearest to him. The fact that the king was a close personal friend and had been for many years, was now just one of the reasons he was calling his banners. Although having summoned his forces together twice before, the previous occasions had been more just an exercise. Now, for the first time, he was doing so with a real possibility of sending his people into a fight. The fact that Lord Elthan had seemingly wormed his way into the capital had not gone unnoticed by Lord Romley, and while his own forces may not be as numerous, he had no intention of letting his opponent oversee the taking of what was not theirs to take. While the information he had was sketchy at best, Lord Romley was certain that Lord Elthan and his son marrying the younger daughter of the king had somehow all been a precursor to the events which had followed. Although not yet having any proof that they had been the ones responsible for the death of the king and queen, and the young prince, he was determined to gather what evidence he could.
The Northern Marches would not merely stand aside and let an illegitimate claim to the throne be made, at least not while he was in charge. His towns and villages may be scattered over a wide area, but he knew that within a week he would have at least three hundred soldiers camped outside his castle. Added to those from his own guard and those drafted from the surrounding areas of his own home, that number would easily surpass five hundred. A mix of full-time soldiers, farmers, fishermen, miners and tradesmen, he knew that each and every man would follow his lead should any battle be forthcoming. The people from the Northern Marches were tough, resilient characters, loyal and strong-willed, attributes he hoped would see them achieve their goals.
While his son was out rallying the lesser nobles to the south of his capital, Lord Romley had busied himself with sending messages to those to the east. Knowing these things took time, something he didn’t have in abundance, all he could do now was wait. With a slow trickle of men arriving daily, it would be a while
yet before he could boldly announce that Princess Imogen was in fact alive. For now, all he could do was pen a letter to whoever was running things in Miranor, requesting that they wait before proclaiming Elysia the Queen. Although not revealing he had the older sibling hidden away, safely from the grasp of any would be killers, Lord Romley used the excuse that perhaps she was yet still alive and that those proclaiming leadership should wait and see. As to whether those in Miranor would read more into his letter than he had intended, he guessed only time would tell.
Having already sent messages out to the other noblemen of the kingdom to try and get their view on what had happened, Lord Romley hoped to build up a better picture and gather evidence as to what had transpired. Although it was cultists being blamed for the murders of the royal family, he, for one, certainly didn’t think that was the case. Although it was true and somewhat disturbing that these cults had started showing up a little more frequently of late, even in his own territories, he doubted they would have the wherewithal to attempt such an audacious crime as regicide.
In Miranor, the bodies of those claimed guilty for the crimes were left hanging on the gallows. Despite crows and other birds already swooping down and pecking at their corpses, it was Lord Elthan’s intention to leave them there a while longer yet. A gruesome sign it might be, but one he hoped would subdue an angry population, and hopefully, keep their minds off any kind of public disturbance. The king and queen had been popular people, and he knew he needed to play things slowly if he was to keep them on his side. Having Elysia marry his son Frederick, and place her in charge was seen as a kind of continuity, although not the ideal one many of the people had wanted. Announcing the young prince had also been murdered, and the older daughter missing, presumed dead, Lord Elthan needed to bide his time just a little longer.
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