Delusions of Loyalty (The Braykith Series Book 2)

by Jennifer R. Kenny

  Evangeline nodded and knew if she asked the questions that she wanted to ask here that she risked her father growing out of control. His moods were flipping as she watched him. Even now Evangeline was witnessing as the lines smoothed out over his forehead, his lips loosened in a relaxed smile as he stood close enough to touch her if he wanted. Evangeline had not even realised he had gotten so close.

  Instead, Evangeline cleared her throat gently and went with a far more expected question. “Can I see Mother now?” Evangeline asked. Her eyes moved from Darius as he remained still and silent. Her brother was waiting for Barret to pass judgment on her question. Evangeline was bright, and she was picking up on the differences in their father’s moods from just this small meeting, but she could not begin to understand what he was like to live with. Darius lived in fear of his father’s wrath.

  “Yes, Darius, take her,” Barret commanded, and Darius jumped in shock at his tone before he mumbled something low and nodded. Barret did not ask him to repeat it and did not give Evangeline any sign of a farewell before he left them both.

  Evangeline watched her father walk away and wondered what could have happened to bring such a proud man down like this. Watching Barret, she did not realise that Darius had started walking without her. She needed to hurry to catch up.

  “It isn’t only animals and men turning up dead,” Darius whispered, and Evangeline leaned in closer to hear him. “Someone is burning our land. It started out as little spot fires, nothing dangerous or even destructive. Father blamed children.” Darius sighed. “But I do not believe that. No one has ever done such things before.”

  Evangeline agreed with him. “So what do you suspect?”

  He looked behind him, but his father was nowhere to be seen. “The rebels. Somehow all of this, the illness, the slaughtered animals and the burning of the fields, all leads back to the rebellion somehow.”

  “They have never been so organised,” Evangeline said, and she hated the way her brother hung his head as if he was ashamed to have picked the wrong answer. She wanted Darius to understand that there was no right or wrong answer to be given. Everything that had been said was speculation.

  “Something happened around the same time that your carriage was attacked. A change in leadership, or perhaps after such an impressive accomplishment the rebels found some new fire to fuel their hate for us, but I would bet all of this land and the people within in that this is tied to the remaining members of the Zorelian kingdom and surrounding provinces.” Darius said with such shy determination that Evangeline could not quite believe he felt that passionate about it.

  But the idea played in her mind as they approached the room where their mother was being tended to.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Evangeline paused outside the room where her mother had been set up. Thea had been moved from her usual bedroom, and Evangeline recognised this as the place of healing. It had been the room her mother had retired to for the weeks before giving birth to her children, and now it appeared that the woman would die in it. Steadying herself for the sight, Evangeline finally followed her brother and entered the room.

  The room and its décor had not changed much from how Evangeline remembered it. Although it had been hardly used, her mother had shown her the room on occasion. A large bed took up considerable space, a chair planted at its side and usually a tall table that could be positioned over the bed so the patient could feed themselves without leaving the comforts. A quick look around the room and Evangeline spotted the table abandoned by the door. Her mother had stopped being able to take on food days ago.

  Murals and portraits covered the walls. Evangeline saw her own image reflected back through the paint, a picture that had been done when she was just ten years of age. She had hated sitting still for so long while the artist had worked, but it gave her comfort now. Closet to the bed was a detailed tapestry of the gods, the likeness of Xado in the distance, and the figure to represent Iloh in the foreground. He was calm, his eyes the colour of fresh leaves and his hair effortlessly moved over his body that was encased with a simple robe similar to what their priest wore.

  Evangeline lowered her eyes at the deeply religious scene that lived so close to her mother’s final moments. This image was supposed to bring faith and closure in knowing that the person who it looked upon had done their human trials and were now ready for their life with Xado but it only made her heart clench with fear. Evangeline was not ready for her mother to die and had believed a cure would be found in time, but this image cemented it for her. There was no hope. No cure would be formulated. Her mother was destined for other things.

  “Mother?” Darius’ voice was light and childlike in the space. Echoing off the walls, Evangeline watched her brother and saw the weakness in him as he suffered trying to assist their mother. It hurt him to see Thea like this, but he stayed strong for her sake. Thea’s eyes opened, and for a moment they searched the room, finally locking on Evangeline who still stood frozen in the entranceway. Evangeline’s lips parted, but there were no words. Before she could attempt to speak the light went from Thea as her eyes lost focus mere moments after finding Evangeline’s face. Evangeline tried to Never had she seen such loss in a person before.

  Thea was a light of life, and Evangeline would remember the way she could command a room of men better than their own officers with little more than a steel gaze. Now Thea’s eyes would roam the walls, eyelids falling closed and Evangeline noticed her struggle to open them again. Thea was still determined, but Evangeline did not think for a moment that her mother had any idea what she was determined about. Any sense of Thea had been stolen by the illness that ran through her blood.

  Evangeline knew she should be asking questions about her mother, about the people of her home and how far this had spread and yet she could not think to speak those questions aloud. Darius held a hand out for her, and Evangeline dutifully went to her mother’s bedside, switching places with her brother.

  “She likes it when you hold her hand.” Darius prompted, but Evangeline froze at the idea of touching her. Darius took Evangeline’s hand gently, but she pulled free. “Please Eva,” Darius tried again, but she remained stubborn. Darius was too tired to fight her on this small request.

  Thea’s body looked like wax covered her. There was a clouded sheen to her skin that reflected back the light which came in through the open window. Evangeline saw the faintest change of the skyline and knew the night was approaching soon. “I’m sorry,” Evangeline whispered.

  “It’s ok. She knows you’re here.” Darius’ words felt empty, and as Evangeline watched him, she knew that he did not mean them. They were just the words you needed to say when one came to sit beside their dying loved one. “That’s all that matters.”

  Evangeline shook her head and rose from the seat, heading out the door. She wasn’t angry at Darius. She understood why her brother had brought her here, but she could not sit and watch her mother die. This woman had been both the light and dark in her life. Thea had been the woman who had taught Evangeline how to be Queen, even if she never knew how desperately her daughter would need to emulate her while surviving Braykith. Without her constant support, Evangeline would never have made it. Evangeline would not sit at that woman’s side and mourn her life.

  She left the manor, looking behind her once but it seemed no one was following her out, She gathered up her skirts and took off faster still in an effort to escape her own heart. Crimah lands may have expanded, but the locations around her home had not. Without realising it, she had come to their modest church. She did not stop but casually walked beyond the gate and to the lands were the people of Crimah kept the memory of their dead.

  Not everyone within the region was greeted with the same grace as others. At some of the sites, there was nothing more than a stick in the ground to mark the place. Closest to the church was the private yard where Crimah’s former leaders had been buried. These were marked with massive stone slabs, their names etched into the rock. E
vangeline’s eyes moved from her grandfather and beyond and felt a panic rise. The earth had not been disturbed, and as Evangeline tried to see the markings of her friends, she needed to admit they had not been placed close to her family.

  “Who would dare put them anywhere else?” Evangeline muttered, her lips barely moving to form the words as she forced herself to slow down and try to see signs that the graveyard had been disturbed. Teagan and Viviana had been gone for less than a year. The ground would not have been so quick to settle with them after such traumatic deaths.

  “You will not find them here.” The priest murmured. Evangeline turned, glad to see the familiar old robes their own loyal divine messenger wore. Evangeline could never quite accept the grand way the Priest of Braykith conducted himself.

  “Where are they?” Evangeline asked.

  “Perhaps you should come inside.” The Priest offered, but Evangeline shook her head. “As you wish my Lady. Upon their arrival to Crimah, your father would not let them gain entry into the city.”

  Evangeline’s lower lip opened, and she looked back towards the manor. “Why would my father demand this?” she asked.

  “He feared having them in our soil would ruin the province. The mysterious way of their passing brought out the worst I am afraid.” The Priest closed his eyes gently, shaking his head as if to clear it of memories. Evangeline was too scared to hear what could have shocked their priest into silence, so she did not ask.

  “Where are they?” Evangeline demanded from the priest.

  “Their bodies were burned and then tossed to sea.”

  Evangeline’s eyes went wide at the news. “That is the death of a traitor.” She objected, and the priest nodded, his own anger at the treatment of two young girls had long since passed but seeing Evangeline’s horror brought the emotions back. “They will never pass to the next life, to fulfill their purpose as promised by Xado,” Evangeline repeated back to the Priest the well-known horrors of an improper burial.

  “I obtained an item of their clothing, and I did what I could for them my lady.” The priest bowed to her, but Evangeline instantly took both of his hands in hers and forced him to rise.

  “Going against the wants of my father is very brave. I should be bowing to you for your continued service.” Evangeline squeezed his hands and released them.

  “It may not have been as we usually practice, but all care was taken on my part to ensure both Viviana and Teagan have passed into the lands ruled by Xado. They were both examples of how one should handle themselves.” The priest seemed to have too much emotion to continue, but Evangeline did not need to hear more.

  “Thank you. I am sure my father had his reasons.” Evangeline felt eyes on her but looking back to the manor she could see no figure. Evangeline had always held suspicions about her father. Songs of his personal war were becoming legendary. However, since leaving Crimah she had learned more about her father and how he treated the people during those dark times. She had been quick to ignore so much in her life out of honour to Barret, but this hurt her beyond all he had done before.

  “Lady Evangeline, you should retire to the manor soon.” The priest interrupted her thoughts. Before she could ask why she saw the reason approach.

  Two men came from around the church, carrying shovels over their shoulders and walking with heavy hearts. They did not look over at Evangeline, but she had the suspicion they were aware she was here, and they were avoiding her on purpose.

  “For my mother?” she asked. The priest nodded. “I suppose I should be thankful that my father gives her the grace he never gave my friends.” Evangeline couldn’t imagine fighting her father to ensure her mother’s burial occurred in the graveyard with the former ladies of Crimah. She was glad she would never need to beg him. “So it is true what Darius says?”

  “What does he say my lady?” the priest asked.

  “That my mother will not survive this illness.” Evangeline cleared her throat into her fisted hand, but it would not be long before the emotions became more apparent. She would need to retire from plain sight soon or run the risk of causing a scene where others could see her.

  “I am afraid so. Her time with us will come to an end, and she will be working the blessed lands of Xado soon with the guidance of Iloh.” The priest hoped she could find some comfort in those words. “We do our trials in this world to commit to the giving days in the next. Iloh is a forgiving God.”

  Evangeline nodded. “Of course. She is lucky to have known so many years already.” The words felt like a lie, and Evangeline felt terrible for lying to a priest, but she could not think of what else could be said. “Excuse me.” Evangeline left the Priest to lay his blessings and summon the watchful eye of Xado as the new grave was dug.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The villagers had held a meeting in the tavern, and it had been decided that the King of Braykith had been ignoring their plight for far too long. More and more of the villagers were going out into the woods on their routine errands and then never heard from again. Mary had been before the King once since her husband Kingston had gone missing, but King Quintus had not taken her complaints to heart. Her man had been gone for a few days, and the King did not find it hard to believe that perhaps he had simply found a more charming woman to pass the time with.

  Others from the surrounding areas had commented on similar stories. They would be seen by the King and given moments to speak their case. King Quintus was yet to send a single man out looking for the missing people, and yet he continued to make demands for their wares, taxes, and anything else he deemed was his for the taking. It was Brett who had stood on the table, a beer in hand to give him courage, and declare they should march over to the castle right now and demand to see the King.

  Surely he could not ignore them all if the villagers stayed together and commanded an audience with their King. That bravado was slowly growing weaker as Brett and seven other townspeople were lead through the castle and towards the throne room. Unable to turn back, Brett would soon come face to face with their king. He had seen Quintus before during ceremony. His wife was quite fond of the King and had forced Brett to accompany her to the church to see the wedding of Lady Evangeline to Prince Glais.

  He was aware what the king looked like, and yet seeing him like this Brett felt a chill come over his skin. The sensation of hundreds of bugs crawling over him made his flesh rise in goosebumps, and he stuttered when the King beckoned him closer.

  “Your name is Brett?” Quintus asked, and Brett managed a nod of his head that was not clear because of the way he trembled. “I have been told you represent the villagers that live here under my protection.”

  “Yes, your grace,” Brett said, mindful of his manners.

  “How interesting.” Quintus leaned forward in his chair. “And is this an official title Brett, should I be calling you sir?”

  Brett shook his head. “No, My grace.”

  “So you are not trying to usurp my throne?” Quintus leaned back, his knuckles cracking as he slowly closed a fist and unwrapped it again.

  Brett's eyes went wide, and the men who had come with him took an extensive step back to better distance themselves from him. All comradery they had collected at the tavern was leaking away under the steel grey eyes of their King. “Never sir, this was never about your crown.” He stammered.

  “Good.” Quintus smiled. “Then tell me why you have come, Brett, leader of my people.” Quintus reached for his wine glass and drank from it while Brett struggled to form coherent sentences which still being watching so intensely.

  “We are missing people,” Brett said, and when Quintus said nothing, he continued. “Mary’s husband Kingston was the first. We sent him after the wolves that attacked your cows.”

  Quintus nodded. “Yes, I remember that. Were the wolves ever found?” He asked.

  “No, my grace, and neither was Kingston. Mary came to you seeking assistance, but you assured her that her husband would see the error of his ways in a fe
w days and return home.” Brett gestured to the men behind him. “We all have stories of people we loved just disappearing while they were doing the most ordinary and mundane of tasks.”

  “Hunting wolves are not mundane,” Quintus said, but he was thinking of all that was being told to him and trying to remember precisely how many people had come to complain of missing relatives. Some who never showed up for work, or wives looking for husbands.

  “Not for some of us sir, but for Kingston he did it quite regularly in an effort to keep your livestock safe from harm.” Brett could see his mistake now is assuming a leadership role here for this discussion, but he was hoping to turn Quintus around on that misunderstanding with the facts and reminding him they were all just servants to Quintus’ rule.

  “I understand your hurt, and I assure you the crown does not take these matters lightly.” Now that Quintus was thinking on it, it had seen quite a few people in his throne room begging for his assistance in finding people. “I will assign a task force of my most able men to handle this on my behalf. I will send them to your tavern to collect as much information as you can give them. Hopefully, we can find where they are going.” Although it seemed, there was no chance of any of these people being found alive.

  “There is more my grace,” Brett said before he could be shuffled off.

  Quintus rose an eyebrow, curious where such a common man felt brave enough to address his king even after a dismissal and a promise of help. “Then you must tell me more.”

  “The disappearances seem to have started getting out of hand since a girl arrived in the town,” Brett said, a murmuring of support coming from behind him, but no one was loudly proclaiming themselves with Brett’s actions. They all feared being hurt just for the association.

  “We have many girls, and men, coming and going from Braykith, Brett,” Quintus said. “We have a certain reputation that some find intriguing.” He smirked to himself, but Brett did not share the joke.