He sighed with relief when they sat and the king moved forward.
‘Welcome one and all to this most sad of days.’ Beniel wore unrelieved black and his head was bare of the crown he usually wore for these occasions. ‘I stand before you bared, mourning, grieving, bereft of a precious brother. I thank you for helping me farewell him and remember him.’
The king returned to his throne and the priestess moved forward.
‘Be joyful, people, for though we farewell Prince Jiseve Zialni from this world, he has his reward in the next. We must remember a joyful life, a life of service, and celebrate all he has left behind. I cannot be sorrowful for I know the rewards the Goddess has prepared for our beloved prince and brother, and I know that Jiseve Zialni has left us a legacy . . .’ There was a pause and Ramón wondered why. ‘A legacy in the form of a child.’
Shock and fear crashed through Ramón and for a moment he froze as the assembled citizens gave a collective gasp. Someone stood and cheered and then everyone was upon their feet, hats in the air, a great rolling wave of excitement and chatter spreading throughout the hall. Ramón’s eyes found Benae, briefly glimpsed between the people in the row behind her. She sat with head forward and he imagined she stared straight at the king.
Beniel gave a brief shake of his head, stood and moved forward. He raised his hands in the air and waited. The people gradually fell silent.
‘I had planned this announcement for a later date.’
Even from the back of the hall, Ramón glimpsed the wave of anger that swept across his face. The priestess stood just behind him, oblivious to the displeasure of her monarch.
‘My people, it is true. My brother fathered a child before he departed this world. The Princess Benae is expecting a babe.’
The crowd rose again and clapped while Benae stood and joined the king. Ramón’s shoulders stiffened further at seeing his lady so exposed. She was now a real target for any assassins working for Piotr. His eyes scanned the hall frantically but all he saw were smiling faces, except for Piotr, who looked anything but pleased. Nothing moved along the walls or in the galleries. He forced himself to relax, forced his hand to release the grip of the crossbow.
‘Sit down, Benae, just sit,’ he muttered.
All returned to their seats except the priestess and her assistants, who continued with the ceremony. The king, Piotr and the head of the guilds spoke about the prince in turn, paying tribute to different aspects of his life. Ramón barely heard, so engrossed was he in scouring the walls, his senses tuned to the perils that might threaten Benae and the king.
Then the service was over and the guild masters moved forward to raise the coffin upon their shoulders. Vorasava stood, first to follow the coffin. Benae and the king followed. Slowly, they moved down the centre aisle of the hall and towards the back doors.
Ramón saw movement from the corner of his eye and looked to the galleries in time to see a figure stand up high on the left gallery, crossbow trained on the exiting party. Ramón’s bow was unclipped and raised in a flash and he let off his dart, taking the would-be assassin in the right eye. The man toppled over the rail of the gallery, landing with a sickening thud, just missing the wife of the master jeweller.
‘Get down!’ Ramón yelled as he pushed his way to Benae’s side. The procession paused, all confused as to what had just happened.
Vorasava pulled Benae down to the tiles and Ramón dragged the king down beside her. The coffin bearers remained standing, their eyes darting around the hall, trying to find the source of the threat.
‘Pallbearers, stay where you are,’ Ramón said. ‘You form protection for the king and the princess. Your Majesty, Princess Benae, please stay down while I investigate.’
Ramón stood and moved through the frightened, milling guests to reach the fallen body. He gently guided the shocked jeweller’s wife into a chair. Another lady attended her. The assassin’s form was unremarkable. He wore nondescript black clothing and a black cap; his features were bland, ordinary. Of course it was always difficult to identify a man who had a crossbow bolt protruding from his eye socket.
He knelt to examine the body and check for signs of life.
‘Good shooting, Zorba,’ Vorasava said from beside him. ‘I’ll take it from here.’
Ramón spun and glared at the lieutenant. Perhaps Vorasava thought the danger was past but Ramón was not so sure. That niggling sense of peril remained. Ramón strode back to Benae and the king, who both stood up. He drew Benae against his chest, not caring any longer who saw. She trembled and he held her tighter.
‘We owe you a great debt, squire, perhaps greater than we can ever repay,’ the king said.
‘Time for that later, Your Majesty, when the danger is past. For now we must complete this ceremony and remove you from the threat.’ He looked to the pallbearers. ‘Continue, brave bearers.’
The coffin advanced, the king’s attendants clustered around him while Ramón kept Benae tight against his side. Soon they would pass through the doors and enter relative safety. Perhaps he would escort Benae to her chambers, thus removing her from harm. Curse the priestess who had placed her life in jeopardy like this.
A searing agony ripped through his ribs and he looked down at the bolt protruding from his chest, bright blood already seeping into his tunic. His legs buckled and Benae tried to catch him as he slid towards the floor. Darkness joined the pain.
Chapter 21
Benae knew true despair as she watched the agonising rise and fall of Ramón’s bandage-swathed chest. He was so pale. In two days there had been no change. She had done all she could, as had the physician. Removing the bolt had almost killed him all over again. Thank the Goddess the weapon had been so small that it had created less destruction within Ramón’s body than a normal bolt would have. She flinched as she recalled the sound of the metal tearing through his flesh and the surprise on his face as he collapsed.
The bolt had been meant for her, she was convinced; meant to wipe out her child before he had a chance to draw breath, leaving one person as heir to the throne: Piotr. The king’s nephew had departed the day after the funeral but his dirty plans had left their mark. The king remained, determined to see the end of Ramón’s battle for good or ill.
Benae swallowed the lump that rose to her throat and blinked back tears. She would not cry again.
Someone coughed at the door. Seeing the king standing there, she rose from her chair but he waved her back down.
‘How is he?’
‘No change.’
‘And you? I worry you are not getting enough rest.’
‘I am not the one lying on my deathbed.’ Benae could not hide the anger in her voice.
The king nodded. ‘Still, you carry a precious cargo.’ He fell silent for a time. ‘The squire was a good man.’
‘Is a good man.’
‘Of course, I only meant—’
‘I know, Your Majesty, and I agree. He is the best of men.’
‘You love him.’ It was not a question and Benae would not deny it.
She nodded. ‘I love him even more since this. He would truly give me everything.’
‘Do you think there is a chance he will survive? The physician says his death is but a matter of time, but I have seen you tend him. I think there is something special in your care.’
Benae met his eyes, wondering if he had divined the true nature of her healing. ‘There is always a chance while there is life. It is part of the reason I sit here. I talk with him and hope he can hear how much he has to live for.’
‘I am sure that will help. Send me word the moment there is any change, my lady.’
The king left and Benae resumed her vigil. She had never hoped for anything so much as this – Ramón’s survival. What he had done with Hetty did not matter. He loved her and their child. He was a good man who had been manipulated by a crafty old woman. That was the worst of it. The best was the possibility that Jiseve had indeed died from the damage the herbs had done to
his heart and that only the prince was to blame for that. There was every chance she would never know the truth, and she would not live the rest of her life without this man; she could not condemn him for seeking help from Hetty. If he lived, she would tell him she forgave him, that she loved him and that she wanted to spend the rest of her life loving him.
The decision made, Benae felt her eyelids grow heavy. Suddenly she could not stay awake. ‘I love you and forgive you, Ramón. Come back to us . . .’
Ramón fought his way back up a long dark corridor towards the shining light at the end. A voice called to him, speaking words of love and forgiveness. The voice was familiar. It was the voice of his beloved Benae. A great sadness filled him as the memories of the preceding weeks slowly returned. He had lost her and let her down. Again and again his impatience had led to impetuousness that had resulted in disaster.
Except for this last time. He had put himself aside and acted for the good of another and for the good of the kingdom. He had placed himself in the firing line, had made himself responsible and that action had saved Benae. He remembered that much. An assassin lay dead and he had taken the dart from the other. But what had passed then? He had no idea. All he remembered was the agony in his chest and the terror on Benae’s face as his vision of her faded.
But what had happened afterwards? He had to know the outcome. He forced his way to that shining light and the agony doubled. The intensity of pain almost sent him back down the tunnel but he held on and the pain faded enough for him to open his eyes. At first none of the images before him made any sense. The room was too bright and his eyes had been closed for too long. As he adjusted to the glare, Ramón saw Benae asleep in a chair beside the bed, her face exquisite in repose. His heart lurched at the sight of her and the pain in his chest nearly made him pass out. She was well; tired but well. He could only pray that the king had also survived the attack. Ramón was so weak he couldn’t lift his head from the pillow. He opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out.
He tried again. ‘Benae . . . ‘
She opened her eyes and stared at him as if the picture she saw didn’t make sense. Then she sat up straight in her chair. ‘Ramón! Beloved!’ She rose and leaned over him, her gaze sweeping his face.
Why does she not touch me? Is it truly too late for us?
‘How do you feel?’ The fear in her voice told him more than words could. She had not expected him to survive, perhaps still did not.
‘My chest is on fire. How is the king?’
‘His Majesty is well. The second assassin was found dead in the gallery. He took poison rather than be captured.’
‘So we are no closer to knowing who sent the assassins?’
She shook her head. ‘Piotr has gone but the king believes it was he. He knew too much of Jiseve’s death.’ She peered at him. ‘I must examine you.’
Gently Benae pulled back the covers and peeled open the bandages swathing his chest. The wound he saw there made his head swim and his stomach lurch. How he could have survived a bolt that had entered the centre of his chest, he could not imagine. The thought of the hard steel slicing through his flesh . . . He pushed the image from his mind.
‘You must not look. The wound is serious but the bolt did not destroy anything important. Despite this, we nearly lost you and the battle against the wound poisoning goes on. I think we are winning.’ She laid her hands upon his chest and closed her eyes.
At last! Ramón gloried in the touch of her skin against his but then he realised that Benae touched him as a healer, not as a lover. His chest warmed beneath her hands and his breathing became easier.
Benae opened her eyes and despite her tiredness, there was a renewed spark in her gaze. ‘All will be well, praise the Goddess. You will heal; I have removed the last traces of the poison that coated the dart.’
‘Poison!’
‘We nearly lost you. You have lain for two days, hanging between life and death, and there was no more I could do until your body gained strength. Now all that is needed is time.’
Ramón found he could sit up against the pillows. Benae helped to make him comfortable.
‘I will send for food. That and rest are all you need now.’
‘There is one thing more I need,’ he said, drawing her down and taking her hands in his. ‘I need you. I need to know that there is still hope for us.’
She looked at him as if weighing the good and the bad in him and Ramón squirmed as he remembered doing when his mother would hold him to account as a boy. But he was a man now and he had given everything for Benae. If that was not enough then he had to face the fact that he would never be enough for her.
‘When I found out what you had planned with Hetty, I thought it had destroyed us. I always thought that any ill you did another man would come in combat, not in stealth.’
Ramón flinched at her words. If only she knew what he was capable of; if only she suspected the secret he held close to his heart. He could not hold it forever but he would not tell her now.
‘I placed you on a pedestal and now I know that I was wrong to do so. You let me down when you went to Hetty, but your actions since have made me realise that you are a brave and good man who made a mistake. You risked your life at the funeral and I believe you would have been glad to die for the kingdom, for me and for our child. I cannot turn my back on you and I cannot be angry with you. If there is a way for us to be together in this new world then I wish it so.’
Ramón drew her close, inhaling the heady jasmine scent of her hair and ignoring the pain as her body pushed against his chest. Benae pulled away and cupped his cheek with her hand. Her lips met his, soft and warm and stirring feelings that he had tried to ignore for too long. He needed her, body, mind and soul.
‘I love you,’ she said, releasing him at last.
‘I love you with everything that is in me, Benae. I never want to lose you.’
‘I must leave you for a time, but I will be back with food. The king has requested I let him know as soon as there is any change.’
He wanted to beg her to stay by his side but she brushed his forehead and a wave of exhaustion claimed him and sent him under.
Chapter 22
Benae settled Ramón into a chair in the intimate confines of the small audience chamber. She couldn’t help the tremor that shook her at the thought of what might pass when the king arrived. Her future was very much in Beniel’s hands. He had indicated that she might manage Brightcastle but no formal decision had been made and she realised how fickle a monarch could be. It was unlikely he would banish her back to her estates, not when he thought she carried the future heir, but he could still place someone else in Brightcastle to oversee the principality until her child was born. And what of when her babe entered this world? Would she even be allowed to raise him? She really did not know what the king might do. One thing was sure: he would try to act in the best interests of the Kingdom of Thorius and the succession. Her child held the key to her future. Where Ramón would fit in, she had no idea, but he had been summoned along with her and the king knew how Benae felt about the man who had risked his life for the kingdom.
Ramón was still very weak and pale but had insisted on dressing for the occasion. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand as she took the seat beside him.
‘All will be well, Benae,’ he said, wincing as he drew breath to speak. ‘Have faith.’
‘It is difficult to have faith when so much has gone wrong lately. Sometimes I fear that my life and that of those around me has been cursed.’
‘You saved me, beloved. You need no longer doubt your gift. If you remember, you have saved me twice now and let us not forget what you did with Flaire. His leg is now full strength.’
She smiled. ‘He yearns for the day when I can race him across the upper meadow once again.’
‘I still cannot believe you can communicate with him.’
She nodded. ‘We share a special bond.’
The door opened and King Beniel
entered. Benae stood and curtseyed while Ramón nodded.
‘I see you continue to heal, squire, and I am glad. I feared we would have a hero’s funeral to conduct.’
Ramón smiled. ‘No one is gladder than I, Your Majesty.’
The king took a seat and Benae resumed hers.
‘I feel the need to reward you in some way, Ramón Zorba, and I have thought long and hard about how I might achieve this.’
‘Your Majesty, there really is no need. I truly feel blessed that I could provide this service to you and to the kingdom. Your safety and that of Benae is all I require.’
‘And I am sure you are genuine in that sentiment.’
Benae realised she was grinding her teeth and deliberately relaxed each muscle in her face one by one. The king’s gaze rested upon her for a brief moment. She took a deep breath and then another.
‘I know you both realise the precariousness of the Kingdom of Thorius and the importance of Brightcastle within that. The child Benae carries is my immediate heir if it is a boy. I hope and pray that is the case. To add to the difficulty, Princess Alecia is still absent. I have no one to administer this principality and that cannot be allowed to continue. Piotr waits to move into the void that circumstance has created. This part of my kingdom must remain stable and protected and to achieve that, I need a strong leader here. Benae, I think you can run the principality. I will grant you the official title of ‘Princess’ to aid you in your task. From now on you are a princess in your own right, not just as wife of Prince Jiseve.’
Benae gasped and flew to her feet. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’
‘Princess Benae, have I not requested you call me Beniel in private?’
‘Thank you, Beniel.’
The stern look on the king’s face did not fade. ‘As much as I respect your ability to run the kingdom, Benae, you will need help. You will need a man behind you to order the army and to help you deal with those who will not heed a woman’s word. I gave this much thought.’ His eyes fell upon Ramón. ‘Squire, you have proven yourself loyal and brave and not only that, you have the cunning to anticipate danger and problems. You did not relax your vigilance even when Vorasava mocked you for your attention to detail. If not for your actions, one or both of us might well be dead, giving Piotr the kingdom. I wish you to aid Princess Benae in her task of administering the kingdom and raising my nephew when he is born.’
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