Deck of Cards

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Deck of Cards Page 5

by Johnson, ID


  “Well, enough of that depressing story!” he proclaimed swiveling back to face her. “What about you, Angel, do you have a husband?”

  Katey hesitated, not exactly sure how to answer that. She glanced down at her hand again. No wedding ring, that was true. She shook her head, indicating that she was not married.

  “A beau then?”

  Again, she had to shake her head no. After the horrendous events of last night, she certainly could not consider Philip a beau.

  “Really? Sweet little thing like you with no suitors?”

  Katey shrugged. She couldn’t say that she didn’t have any suitors, just no husband and no beau.

  “Well, then, I guess Castle Blackthorn is an even stranger place than I thought. Letting beautiful little angels flitter around the castle, unwed and unspoken for. Interesting!” Katey couldn’t help but chuckle. And she couldn’t help but find herself drawn to this amazing man, still able to find a sense of humor even in these most dire of circumstances.

  “Tell me, Love, do you know anything of the advance of the Arterian army?”

  Katey knew this subject was bound to arise if she stayed long enough. She teetered on concealing the information she had, simply because she didn’t want to give him false hope. However, from the sounds of it, Caleb would be knocking on the door of Castle Blackthorn any day now and then it would be in Matthew’s interest to know of his arrival so he could prepare. It would go one of two ways. Either he would be rescued or executed in advance of his brother’s arrival. In fear of the later, Katey decided to indicate to Matthew that she did have some information.

  Matthew was relieved to see that Katey had news of his brother. Now to figure out how to get her to tell him precisely what it was. “King Caleb, he’s close, isn’t he?” Again, Katey affirmed his believe. Matthew gave a small sigh. “Any idea how far away?” She didn’t shake her head no, so Matthew thought it looked promising. “Is he advancing quickly? Is Philip anticipating his arrival at Blackthorn? Is that why he rode out so early this morning, to inspect the army?” Katey indicated yes to each of these questions so he continued. “What are they thinking, a week? Two weeks?” At this Katey shrugged. She had heard estimates of time from both Philip and Edward but there were so many factors that could impede Caleb’s progress. She didn’t really know how to answer him.

  “Alright then,” Matthew said, nodding his own head. This all seemed promising to him. One way or another, he would be out of this tower soon. Now, however, he felt a little more alive and a little more like there might be something to live for after all.

  He didn’t speak for a few moments, reflecting on the information he had just received. Katey stirred and he came back to reality. “I’m so sorry,” he said, remembering he actually had company. “I shouldn’t be bombarding you with so many questions.”

  Katey opened her eyes widely and shook her head, hoping he would understand that she meant it was fine. She wanted him to feel comfortable enough to ask her anything. However, as much as she was enjoying spending time with King Matthew, she knew the day grew long and she should probably get back down to her room before Joan started looking for her or the king arrived back from his inspection.

  She wasn’t sure how to indicate to Matthew that she needed to go, so she began to slowly gather her things. “Are you leaving?” he asked, startled. “It’s not because I asked too many questions is it?” Again, she shook her head no. She wished she knew how to indicate the time but with no pocket watch, it seemed impossible. She gestured toward the arrows slits with her head and he turned around for a second, but she could tell by the furrow in his brow that he did not understand what she was trying to say. “What? I’m sorry I don’t understand.” This time she pointed with her finger, which barely fit through the slit in the door. “Oh, the window, uh, arrow slit? Hmm? What could that mean,” Matthew wondered allowed. He knew they weren’t under attack. “Oh, it’s getting late. The King. You need to get back before you’re discovered.” She was nodding along with each statement, confirming what he was saying. “I see. I understand.” He was clearly disappointed, which made Katey both a little sad and secretly happy that she would be missed. “Will you come back tomorrow?” he asked, his face pressed against the opening.

  Katey smiled. Yes, of course she would, she nodded.

  “Good! Good.” He sat back a bit. “Well, thank you for coming. Thank you for listening to me and for all of your gifts. You’re truly a heaven-sent angel, my Angel.” He tried to squeeze his finger through the narrow slit but found it difficult. He switched to his little finger and was able to just get it through.

  Katey was just about to stand when she saw his finger sticking precariously through the door. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do. She knew he must be longing for human contact, gentle human contact, so she interlocked her pinky finger around his and gave it a gentle squeeze. With that motion, she realized just how starved for affection she was herself. After a few seconds, she let go, gathered her basket and other items and turned to go.

  Matthew heard her descending the stairs when he suddenly remembered his request. “Angel!” he shouted through the slot, “Wait!”

  Katey paused about six steps from the top of the stairwell. She promptly turned around and hurried back up the stairs. Bending down next to the slot, she waited to see what he needed. “Do you think that knife will fit through the slot?” he asked. Katey dug through the basket for the little knife she had used to cut open the stem. The blade was small and thin but the handle was a little thicker. Still, she thought it just might go through with a little coaxing. She stuck the blade through first and it went easily enough. Then, she began to wiggle the handle back and forth. If it had been against the wood, it would have been easier but the metal frame was holding it up. Finally, after several seconds of pushing and praying, she was able to get it to slide through.

  “Yes!” Matthew proclaimed, catching it by the handle before it hit the ground. “Oh, thank you so much! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this!

  Katey wondered what in the world he intended to do with the knife, hoping he wasn’t planning to stab Edward and make an escape. She was afraid he would never make it out of the castle alive. But she had no way of asking and she was really starting to worry about the time so she gathered up her things again and turned to go. As she began to descend the stairs once more, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw Matthew’s smiling eyes peering through the slot, watching her walk away. For the first time in a long time, Katey had a reason to smile.

  ***

  Caleb was also contemplating a first in a long time situation. As much as he wanted to stay at the castle and continue to receive updates from the doctor, he really needed to get back to the front lines. Unlike some kings, Caleb preferred to be in the thick of it with his troops. Though his generals and other cabinet members forbid him from actually participating in the battles themselves, he occasionally found a way into the foray. At the very least, he was able to see first hand what was happening with his army and direct their attacks himself. He had created a well-oiled machine, one capable of destroying any enemy and it was just a matter of time before Clovington fell, whether he was with his army or not. But if he was with his army it would be faster. And he would have a better chance of getting to his brother before anything happened to him.

  As he stood on the balcony next to his bedchamber, looking out over the courtyard in front of the castle, he contemplated the possibilities of Philip actually doing something as idiotic as executing Matthew just to piss Caleb off even more. He constantly reassured himself that even Philip was not so stupid. Yet, there was a nagging voice inside of his head that made him think the possibility was there. Philip had invaded Zurconia on a whim, pushed along by the unreasonable chatter of his insane, power-hungry uncle, hell-bent on gaining vengeance for a brother long dead. He ran his hand through his short, light-brown hair, contemplating what to do. Just when he had determined he didn’t need t
o go, he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see his most trusted advisor, Noel, stepping lively, as if he was on a mission,

  “Good morning, Caleb,” the older gentlemen said quickly. There was no need for formality here. Noel had been Caleb’s right-hand-man sense he was old enough to walk. When his father had died and Caleb had ascended to the throne at fifteen, just barely of-age, Noel had been there. When Matthew, Caleb’s shadow and best confidant had left Arteria to marry, Noel had become his best and truest friend. And when the Clovington forces breached the Zurconian line, infiltrating Castle Ringley, whisking Matthew away, Noel had been the first to say the battle was on.

  “Noel,” he said, rubbing his pale blue eyes, the coffee in his hand clearly doing nothing to wake him up after the few hours of sleep he had gotten, though he would never complain considering the reason for his interrupted slumber. “What’s the word?”

  Noel was lanky for a soldier. Several inches taller than Caleb, who was above average in height and not nearly as muscular as his commander, he did not appear to be of much use on the battlefield. But looks could be deceiving and Noel certainly knew how to handle any weapon he so chose to use. “You may need to go to the front after all. Our scouts have reported fortifications being built on the hills just west of the Lowetian Forest. It seems Philip is attempting to use the forest as cover and force us through the thickest, swampiest portions so that our progress is impeded.”

  Caleb sighed, leaning back against the railing and taking a sip from his mug. Cook was not going to be happy if he decided to go, yet, he needed to make sure his army wasted no time in achieving it’s goal. If there were a better way around the obstacles Philips was throwing up, perhaps he would be able to see it more clearly than his scouts and other commanding officers. He had always had a gift for seeing the movement of armies, the path of least resistance, the weaknesses in the opposition. Even when his opponent was just Matthew with faux swords, clanking around the ball room, much to his late mother’s chagrin, he could anticipate the next blow, visualize it, as if it was already taking place. “Alright,” he said, reluctantly. “I’ll ride back out with you in a few hours. Let’s just end this, once and for all.”

  Noel nodded his head in agreement. “I’ll make the necessary preparations,” he said. “But,” he added over his shoulder as he turned to go, “You’ll have to tell Cook yourself.”

  “Damn,” Caleb muttered, the view of the garden suddenly ruined by a vision of an angry older woman chasing him with a rolling pin. He would rather face any opponent on the battlefield than face that woman when she was angry.

  ***

  That evening, Katey was able to avoid dining with Philip. When he sent for her, Joan explained that she was not feeling well. Since Philip was in a foul mood having had little patience with his generals as he rode through what looked more like children playing with blocks than grown men building a barrier against an invading army, he was in no mood to beg for her attendance. Though he did feel a little embarrassed that he had lost his temper the night before, he was also extremely angry that his future bride had refused him. He began to look forward to Sunday night when he would have the opportunity to teach her a thing or two about denying him. He was quite sure it would never happen again. In the meantime, he planned to make due with Rose or perhaps one of the chambermaids, if he found one he could stomach.

  There was one positive to being so close to the front lines of defense. He could ride out and check on his army but still spend the night in his own bed. But that meant mornings like this one where he spent a few early hours riding back out to check on progress. Still, it beat the alternative, a night spent in a makeshift tent amongst the scallions he called his troops. He knew that many kings led their armies in person. Warrior kings, kings who, in is opinion, didn’t know how to delegate. He was quite sure that, if and when the Arterian army came pouring through the doors of his castle, Caleb would be front and center. What he wouldn’t give to have the opportunity to run him through himself, with the same sword he’d just used to slit his brother’s throat. Ah, daydreams.

  What was unsettling however, was the view of the encampments he was able to gain from atop a ridge just west of where his men were making a lot of noise with various tools, allegedly building a wall and digging trenches. The Arterian army was in plane view, a stone’s throw away. Perhaps a throw from a large catapult, but a stone’s throw nonetheless. “Shit!” he spat aloud. They were running out of time, out of resources, out of everything. Even if they managed to throw up some sort of barricade, Caleb and his men would just step over it and keep right on coming. It was plain to see that this plan was simply not going to work. Right now, the only thing keeping the Arterians out of Blackthorn was the Lowetian Forest and they would find a way through that eventually.

  Charles was at his side, shaking his head, his keen eye assessing the situation in the same way as his leader. “What do you want to do?” he asked, his restless horse snorting, as if to say it was ready to charge.

  The view from the top of the ridge was making Philip’s stomach churn. He had seen enough. He gave his stallion a kick and preceded down the other side of the incline, Charles and the rest of his party following close behind. “What do I want to do?” he asked after a moment of contemplation. “I want to find a way to sneak around his flank, cut him off from his supply line, and annihilate every damn one of them!” That, that would be perfection. Watching Caleb and each of his trumped up warriors die agonizing deaths. If only there was a way to do that.

  Charles confirmed what Philip already knew to be true. “I honestly don’t think it’s possible, Sir. His left flank is anchored in Glendor and we know how the defenses there stand. He has is right flank doubled back. Nothing up in the air. We, however, have both flanks exposed and all we have to show for three days work of fortifying on this side of the forest is a few sections of four-foot brick wall and some oddly placed trenches.”

  Philip sighed. He was able to ascertain the same information on his own. There was no reason to ask his other advisors what they thought. It was obvious. There was nothing they could do now but slow Caleb down. Even if they changed their plan and began to build on top of the ridge they just left, it wasn’t long enough to prevent the Arterians from simply going around and making a beeline for the castle. Even though Philip knew precisely what the objective was, he was not able to protect it. He felt the anger and frustration welling up inside of him. “Dammit! Damn! Damn! Damn!” he spat, pounding on his saddle horn. Charles backed his horse up, knowing it would do no good to try and calm the king. At this point, he should be angry. And afraid. They should all be afraid.

  Finally Philip regained his composure. He was glad his Uncle Edward had been feeling too ill to join them that day. He would have gotten a lecture on self-control, one that he could presently do without. His anger at his uncle began to boil deep inside of him. From his vantage point, this had all been his fault, in it’s entirety. His idea to invade Zurconia. His idea to kill the queen and kidnap the king. His idea to build this bloody line of defense in the lowland right beside a swamp!! The only decent idea he had had from the beginning of this ill-fated scheme was to cut off the Pass of Jessella so that the Arterians could not come to the Zurconian’s aid. That and attacking from the north, through the southeast corner of Gradenia so that the Arterians could not get there in time. Where were those grand ideas now, now that they were about to lose everything they had?

  The Arterians had made it to Castle Ringley despite spending almost a week forcing their way through Jessella. But they had been too late. By the time they arrived, they had Matthew across the Gradenian border. Though Caleb had been willing to engage Leopold’s forces as well, he was unable to locate the small band of men Philip had used to bring the kidnapped king back to Clovington. Leopold had not been willing to use his own forces in what he believed to be a “suicidal escapade doomed to eventual failure.” When Philip had first arrived back at Blackthorn and thrown Matthew in priso
n, he had laughed at Leopold’s misguided perception. Now, he believed he understood exactly what his cousin had seen from the beginning. His uncle’s vengeful plan was doomed to failure. While it had been possible to sneak into Zurconia and wreak havoc, it seemed it was not possible to prevent Arteria from doing the same.

  And now, it was just a matter of time.

  Philip finished his tour of the troops, made a few changes, including an attempt to start digging in on the higher ground of the ridge, though he wasn’t sure that would make any difference at this point, and he headed back to Blackthorn. He prayed there would be a messenger from Gradenia awaiting his return. Otherwise, he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do.

  ***

  Wedding preparations were in full swing. There was so much to do! Patterns and fabrics to choose, dignitaries to invite, menus to be previewed. It was enough to keep a bride-to-be busy all day long. Unfortunately for Joan, Katey was nowhere to be found. She had popped in earlier in the morning to be measured for her gown but then disappeared again. Joan didn’t mind too much, however, she loved planning parties and large events. If Katey didn’t want to be included in the selection for her own wedding then so be it, Joan would just do it herself.

  Katey was doing her best not to even think about the wedding. The only part of it she was slightly looking forward to was the possibility that her brother or sister would come. But she found that very unlikely. Word of the impending assault from Arteria on Castle Blackthorn had certainly spread to Placidia and while Nicole and James were certainly concerned about their sister’s welfare, they were likely confidant that she would not be harmed. There was no reason to think Caleb’s forces would take their vengeance out on Katherine. And while Placidia was about to become allies with Clovington through these nuptials, it had yet to happen. Nicole was not one to waste troops or resources when she didn’t yet have a dog in the fight.

 

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