Sebastian didn’t feel the weight of the casket on his shoulder—his father’s sickness had wasted him away to almost nothing—until the moment he saw the fresh turned earth and gaping hole. He nearly stumbled, but found Aslynn at his side, resting her hand on his shoulder.
“Courage, brother,” she said, but he knew she was hurting, too.
“And you, sister,” he said, briefly touching her hand. Then it was time to rest the casket onto the support boards while gravediggers placed the ropes that would lower the casket into the waiting earth.
The bishop continued speaking words in Latin that Sebastian did not understand. All he could focus on were the words Master Jabari had taught him when, as a child, he had helped bury one of the king’s war dogs. He found himself whispering, “Earth to earth, dust to dust.”
Four gravediggers began to lower the casket.
The moment was surreal. This was the last sight of his father’s mortal remains. In a brief moment, the casket settled into the earth, and the bishop sprinkled holy water over it.
Then Sebastian, Aslynn, Edward, and Katrona were motioned forward to each scatter a handful of dirt into the dark hole. Sebastian felt his knees begin to buckle, and he feared he would fall to his knees.
It was a moment before he realized the earth itself was trembling. The crowd gathered on the knoll reached out to each other, the women shrieking in terror as the trembling grew in intensity. Clods of dirt tumbled from the lip of the grave and the casket rocked against the earthen walls.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the shaking ceased.
In the unnatural stillness that followed the quake, Sebastian looked at Aslynn and saw mirrored in her face the wonder he felt. It was as though the earth itself mourned the passing of their father.
He glanced at Katrona to see her reaction, and was surprised to see a small frown of worry creasing her brow as she gazed back toward the castle.
Before he could follow her gaze, Bishop Paul’s voice broke the silence, picking up his graveside speech where he had left off.
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Katrona slipped away before the bishop finished the ceremony and hurried back to the castle.
Since the moments of the earthquake—an unprecedented event in the Bonnie Isles—she had felt an urgency that dismayed her.
The whole way back through the village, she fought a sense of panic that threatened to shatter nearly five years of serenity.
The guards at the castle gate let her through without question and she hurried to the nearest entrance of the secret passageways that allowed covert access to any room in the castle.
The musty passages seemed much smaller than the last time she had walked them, when she was ten years old, but the dark twists and turns were etched in her memory. She had no trouble finding the room she was looking for.
The last time Katrona had navigated these passages, she had led her mother to the final conflict of her life as queen of the Bonnie Isles.
Katrona stumbled in the darkness now, not in direction, but rather over some debris littering the floor. Stooping, she felt a chunk of rock. Her feet encountered more, and the soles of her slippers rasped on powdered mortar. Inhaling deeply, she smelled dust in the air, freshly stirred, along with a faint stench—like something dead from long ago.
Cautiously, Katrona felt her way forward until she passed through a rough opening in the wall that used to be the secret access to the King’s old audience chamber.
The room where the witch Tawnia made her pact with the Devil and disappeared down a living pit of stone to save herself. The room that had been sealed off these five years, against the witch’s return from whence she departed.
The room was as dark as the passageway, but Katrona could feel the difference when she stepped through the freshly tumbled wall into the larger chamber. The sound of her robe rustling and her slippers shuffling on the stone floor no longer came right back to her, but rather whispered against distant walls.
“Light,” she whispered, and off to her left, a pair of candles flickered to life. Mother Superior would be disappointed in her for drawing on the Ley to use even this small magic, but Katrona had never understood how a simple request for fire could hurt anything.
The light was very bright to her eyes, adjusted as they were to the dark, easily showing her the contents of the room. In the moments before the candles—mere nubs abandoned when the room was emptied—burned out, she saw the room was indeed barren. No furniture, no tapestries, no anything.
The most disturbing sight was the crack running nearly the length of the room. Katrona had stopped inches from the lip of the chasm. At its widest, the crack gaped better than four feet across, the edges scorched as though by great heat.
Either this was the center of the earthquake, or her mother had returned. Unhappily, Katrona found both explanations likely.
As she turned to leave the way she had entered, Katrona heard, very distinctly, her mother’s voice whisper through the darkness.
“My heiress.”
She hissed into the darkness, and her fingers drew the sign of the cross before her. “Get thee behind me.”
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Sebastian stood stoically for the final ritual of burial. All sense of personal grief was supplanted by anger as one by one the mourners filed past the grave, dropping in some personal token in remembrance of the king. It was meant to be a touching tribute to a fine king. Instead, the young ladies, in vying for his attention, nearly tripped each other in their attempts to get closer to him, ruining it for Sebastian. While trying to establish eye contact with him, they stumbled into each other. Their trinkets—bright and pretty colored flowers of no personal value—missed the grave entirely in some instances.
He glanced at Aslynn and saw her glowering in disgust. Beyond her, Edward watched the ladies covetously, obviously wishing he were the object of their ambitions. Sebastian’s frown deepened when he saw Katrona was no longer standing with the royal family. He turned to scan the crowd for her. Katrona had dearly loved her father, and Sebastian worried she was taking his death very hard.
He surveyed the line of mourners making their way back to the castle without sighting his sister. A quick look through those yet waiting their turn did not reveal her either. His gaze did fall on the young lady Adam had tried to introduce him to earlier.
She, too, had a look of dismay on her face as she watched the proceedings. She was watching someone in particular, he realized. He shifted his gaze to follow hers until he saw Lady Tidwell and her brash daughter. He hastily looked away before he made eye contact with that young lady.
Finding his gaze drawn back to the anonymous girl, Sebastian was oddly pleased when she did catch his eye. She blushed, bobbed her head in a small curtsey, and looked down before she could see his smile.
Such modesty, he was sure, would be hard to contrive, though he didn’t doubt a resourceful girl could pull it off. At least she had the courtesy to appear aggrieved by the king’s death. Sebastian resolved to determine whether her demeanor was genuine or she was just a different kind of pretender.
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Mari felt nothing short of terror when she noticed the prince watching her, and hastily lowered her gaze after acknowledging his look. She was sure it was because she had run out of the chapel earlier, and felt mortified that she would draw attention to herself by her cowardice.
It was a long moment before she could lift her gaze from the grass at her feet. When she did, she realized the last of the mourners had stepped into line, and she needed to move quickly or stand out even more than she did already.
She stepped forward and attached herself to the end of the line, her gaze fixed on the boots of the courtier in front of her.
When she saw the raw earth of the grave from the corner of her eye, her hands started shaking. To still them, she clutched tighter to the token she had chosen.
She made herself look at the painted wooden box containi
ng the king’s mortal remains. It was all too easy to envision its contents. She had recently buried her grandmother, the only person at Dewbury who had shown her true kindness.
Now, her heart racing, Mari thought she might faint as tears rolled down her cheeks. Tears for the old hurt of losing her dear one and the fresh wound of losing her king.
Pausing at the graveside without looking up, she held out her hand and let the token drop. It fell with a soft thump onto the wood and nestled into a bed of flowers. Turning with a sigh, she began walking back to the village and the solace of her room at the castle.
Lost in her grief, she lagged behind the rest of the mourners without realizing it, until footsteps sounded behind her, moving up to walk beside her.
“You’ll have to move along, milady,” a guard said. “The royal family has asked to make this walk in private.”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “Of course. Forgive me....”
“It’s all right, Jared.” Both Mari and the guard turned in surprise to see Prince Sebastian walking up. “I wanted to have a word with the young lady.”
“As Your Highness wishes,” Jared said, bowing and stepping away.
“Your Highness,” Mari said, curtsying low. “I’m sorry if I have disturbed you....” Her voice trailed off. She had no idea what else to say.
“Please, walk with me a while,” he said, gesturing for her to walk at his side. “I’m curious, my lady. What token did you give to the grave?”
Mari shuddered and looked up to see the prince frowning at her. “Forgive me, Highness. I’ve always disliked that phrase. I...I gave an ivory buckle as my token, for my grandmother’s memory of the king.”
His frown turned into a puzzled look. “How do you mean?”
“It is something of a long story, Highness.”
“I would like to hear it, please.”
Mari cleared her throat. “As my grandmother told it, the king came a-hunting when I was just a babe. He and my father spent three days chasing boars through the forest around Dewbury. On the third night, as King Isaiah and my father sat regaling each other with hunting stories, I crawled up to his Majesty’s leg and began teething on a fine ivory boot buckle.
“My mother was furious and whisked me away, but the king gave the buckle to my grandmother and asked that she let me have it. She said he was very kind about the whole incident.”
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Sebastian smiled at the story, thinking how like his father it was to think nothing of the price of a buckle. “And you’ve kept it all this while?” he mused.
“How could I not? It is a token for both the people I love most in the world.”
Watching her closely, Sebastian could see nothing other than sadness in her profile—she would not look at him as they walked. He wished he had thought to ask Aslynn the girl’s name, though he now knew her mother was that dreadful Baroness Tidwell. And if that woman could breed one brash, ambitious daughter, she could very well breed two.
Sebastian shook his head, hating how cynical he was becoming. He ought to at least give the girl the benefit of the doubt.
“I don’t know that I’ve seen your father at court,” he said after a moment.
“No, Your Highness, you have not. He does not travel much these days.”
She fell silent again, but looked more relaxed, though she still would not look at him. Sebastian cleared his throat, noting the nearness of the castle gates.
“How long do you intend to stay in Fair Haven, my lady?”
“I leave on the morrow, Highness. At dawn.”
“Dawn?”
“Yes, Highness. I am expected back at Dewbury.”
“I see.” Sebastian stopped walking. “I must let the others catch up, my lady. It was a pleasure speaking with you.”
“And you, Highness.” Taking his words as dismissal, she hurried through the castle gates while Sebastian watched after her.
“Dawn?” he repeated as Aslynn, Adam, and Edward caught up. “Tomorrow? She’s not staying for the coronation?”
“Who cares?” said Edward, a sneer on his lips. “She’s a hag who can’t even afford a decent gown.”
“What do you know about it?” Aslynn asked. Sebastian saw her tense up, as if wishing they were still children so she could push her half-brother away. But she was too much a lady now. Not to mention, Edward—now eighteen—had grown to a size that did not encourage a pushing match.
“I know beauty when I see it,” Edward scoffed. “Sebastian won’t even look at them, but I noticed Betina of—”
Adam laughed, overriding Edward’s comment. “Betina of Habersham?” His tone advertised what he thought of her.
Edward glared at each of them in turn, then shook his head and stalked away.
Adam turned to Sebastian. “I see you’ve made proper acquaintance with Mari of Dewbury.”
“Ah, that’s her name. I didn’t catch it before.”
“You didn’t let her know that, did you?” Aslynn asked, aghast.
“I remembered my manners better than that,” Sebastian chided.
“So, what did you think of her?” Adam pressed.
“I don’t know. She seemed very proper, gracious, and genuinely sad about Father’s death, but it was mighty convenient that she placed herself at the end of the line.”
Adam shook his head firmly. “There’s not a devious bone in Mari’s body, ’Bastian. You’ll see, if you get to know her better.”
“And why is she leaving in the morning? Why isn’t she staying for the coronation?”
“I suspect it has to do with her father’s health. With her mother and sister here....”
“Ah, her mother is that dreadful Baroness Tidwell, and her sister is...what’s her name?”
“Rochelle,” Aslynn supplied.
“A pair of sharks if I’ve ever seen them, circling their prey.”
“Mari is nothing like them—” Adam began.
“The blood tells,” Sebastian snapped, effectively ending the discussion.
Adam and Aslynn exchanged glances.
“Are you all right?” Aslynn asked. “You don’t seem to be quite yourself.”
Sebastian felt his hands tighten into fists quite unexpectedly at her words. Didn’t she know how he was feeling? “How am I supposed to be when everything is about to cast itself into the sea?”
With that, he walked through the castle gates, gritting his teeth at all the people waiting in the courtyard for him, bowing as he passed. He ignored them and went to the stable to saddle up his horse.
Ever attendant, Jared nevertheless had to hurry to saddle his own mount in time to catch up. His future king charged out of the stable, scattering courtiers left and right, riding out the castle’s eastern gates and onto the moors.
Chapter Three
“Princess Aslynn?” Jabari, the master swordsman, came over to where she and Adam still stood by the gate, watching the dust cloud that hid her twin’s retreating figure. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. He’s taking this very hard. I don’t understand, but I should.”
Adam slipped an arm across her shoulders. “He’s under a lot of pressure. He’ll be all right once things settle down.”
“I’m worried. I didn’t see this coming at all, and I should have.”
“Even a twin can’t foresee this kind of emotional upset, Aslynn,” Adam said. “You can’t expect—”
“I always have before. This just...came out of the blue.”
“Is it dangerous?” Master Jabari asked, obviously remembering her prior presentiments regarding her twin had always involved some sort of life threatening danger.
“It’s not that. I just didn’t have any warning that he would react this way.”
“Well, I’ll send a couple riders out to ghost them. Jared will not let any harm befall the prince.” With that, he turned to suit action to words.
“Look, there’s Katrona,” said Adam. “I wondered where she’d gone o
ff to.” He and Aslynn headed across the courtyard to greet her.
Princess Katrona looked very small in her black habit as she crossed the courtyard’s flagstones. The crowd parted to let her through, and knotted together once she’d passed to whisper behind her. She paid no heed to any of that, pausing only to speak a few words to Lady Mari of Dewbury.
When Aslynn and Adam met up with her, she looked up at them with dark, haunted eyes. Before they could ask her anything, she lifted a hand to quiet them. “I must...go pray.” And she continued on her way, leaving the castle and heading for the convent.
“Not her too,” Aslynn said.
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
The mourners milled about the courtyard, waiting for an invitation to dine. Most had not eaten since dinner the night before, and their stomachs were making them impatient.
Many had witnessed the abrupt departure of the crown prince and were puzzled by it. A few had witnessed Katrona’s odd behavior and wondered at that as well.
Deep within the crowd of mourners, a hooded woman stood, an island in the midst of incessant movement. In the shadow of the hood, anyone who happened to look would see a pleased smile. As she saw Princess Aslynn and her husband decide to begin the dinner feast without the guest of honor, she chuckled.
And as the mourners began making their way into the Great Hall, the hooded woman moved against the flow of people, heading out of the castle keep.
“Very nicely played,” she murmured. “Very nice indeed.”
⇜⊂⊃⊂⊃⊂⊃⇝
Jared rode hard on Sebastian’s heels, feeling his horse laboring to keep up with the prince’s steed. Sebastian’s horse was flecked with foam. He was just about to shout out that they needed to think about the horses when Sebastian pulled back on the reins, slowing his horse to a trot, and then a walk.
Though he was burning to ask what the prince was thinking of, he left him to his silence. Sebastian was no longer his foster brother, whom Jared was obliged to guide and counsel; he was the crown prince, and a man in his own right.
They rode off the trail, up to a grove of trees where they found a small stream to water the horses. Dismounting, they led the horses to the water and let them drink.
To Make a King Page 2