Starling gazed at the handsome warrior. Whatever was going on she didn’t care; she’d do whatever he said.
“Yes, Sir, I understand. You can count on me.”
“Thank you,” he smiled warmly, and supporting Falayla he led her through the curtain and across to a grouping of chairs on the other side of the chamber, far enough away so Starling would not be able to hear their private murmurings.
“First, you have my word I will protect you,” he assured the frightened girl as he sat next to her on a settee. “I am sure you have been scared for days. Am I right?”
“So scared, Sir, so, so scared,” she whimpered, the tears beginning to cascade down her face.
“Please, be strong now. You’re safe, you must tell me everything.”
“It was Farris,” she blubbered trying to compose herself. “When he picked me out of the girls for serving today, I was so surprised because I’m not like the other maidens. I’m shy, I didn’t really want to-”
“What did he say, what did he do?” Larian said urgently.
“It wasn’t just him. There were three other men with him, and they stood around me. They…they…oh, the shame of it,” she sobbed.
“Tell me, quickly,” he pressed. “We have so little time before he comes to find you. He will have you try again.”
“I’m sorry…they told me if I didn’t do what they said they would each have me, both back and front,” she whispered, “but even then I refused. I would never hurt the King, never. You must believe me.”
“I do,” Larian assured her. “Keep going.”
“So then they said if I didn’t do their bidding they would do the same to my mother, and my little sister, and they would kill my father and burn my family’s home. It was so terrible,” she sobbed, and overcome she dropped her head in her hands.
“He is a fiend,” Larian hissed. “Please, Falayla, take hold, I will protect you and your family.”
“But he has soldiers at my home,” she quivered. “If I do not carry out his orders…”
“Who were the other three men? Do you know?”
“I don’t know their names, but they’re here. They are all sitting together with their wives. They’re at the end of the table with Farris. The wives, I just remembered, I heard the men say their wives would have sport with the Queen when she returned.”
“What else?” he pressed.
“Um, a guard named Crellus, or Crullis, something like that, had a few men on his side, and that’s all they would need, just a few men.”
“This is so evil,” he growled.
“I almost drank the poison myself,” she declared, “so they couldn’t make me hurt the King, and the Princess…but then I feared for my family.”
Larian stared into her red, tear-filled eyes, and knew she spoke the truth; she would have taken her own life before killing the King, and would have but for her loved ones.
“Do you want to make this right? Do you want to help save the King now?”
“I have wanted to save the King,” she replied, her face crinkled with sincerity.
“Think, Falayla, since we did not partake of the soup, will he ask you to try again with another serving?”
“He already has, in the gravy,” she said slowly, “everything else is being taken out on big platters. He can’t use the cake, that will be part of the ceremony.”
“The ceremony! I’d forgotten about the ceremony. This is excellent. How did you put the poison in the soup?”
“When the server brought out the soup for the head table, I was supposed to take the tray and send him back to the kitchen for another bottle of wine and pour it in then, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“I don’t understand, didn’t you put in the bowls.”
“I opened the vial and a tiny drop fell into one of them, but only because my hand was shaking. When I couldn’t do it I thought I was condemning my family to a horrible death,” she whimpered, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her face.
“Falaya, you poor girl. What did you tell Farris?”
“That the boy came back with the wine before I had a chance. That’s when he said I was to pour it into your gravy boat.”
“So, you still have the vial?”
“Yes, I have two of them,” she replied pulling them from the folds of her skirt. “He gave me two in case I dropped one, or spilled it or something.”
“Excellent. Can you be brave for me? Just for a little while? I promise your family will come to no harm but you must do exactly as I say.”
“I will, Sir, I will,” she vowed.
“Good, now listen carefully.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Back at the King’s table Lizbett had relayed the information, and Handerah laughed and joked as if she had just told him something highly amusing. When he saw Larian appear through the door from the chamber and whisk Farris from his seat to speak to him away from the other guests, Handerah was immediately filled with concern, but when he saw Farris grin and nod his head it was clear Larian was just being amicable, pretending nothing was awry.
Good, Larian, make jokes, act as though all is well. We can’t trust anyone, not even Farris, though I am tempted. He knows all the nobles intimately, he may have heard rumblings.
Handerah was eager to learn what Larian had discovered from the duplicitous maiden, but the warrior was talking with Farris at length. The King could see Farris was becoming somewhat restless, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as though he needed to sit back down or had some pressing business. When Larian finally left him the King saw Farris frown deeply, then dart inside the banquet chamber.
Ambling slowly back to his chair, Larian settled next to the King and with a wide grin began to relay all the information he’d gathered; Handerah was aghast.
“What are we to do?” Handerah groaned.
“I have already hatched the counter attack, Sire,” Larian assured him. “You need not fear. No harm can come to any of us, at least not from poison, not tonight, but the plotters, they have an unfortunate end coming their way. This is what I have planned. If it meets with your approval I will do nothing. If it does not, it can be stopped.”
Quickly but in great detail Larian outlined his scheme, and when he finished Handerah nodded in agreement, then let out a heavy sigh.
“It is an excellent plan. It’s no wonder your Prince made you a Commander. You are not just cunning, you are insightful. It saddens me greatly that Farris would wish to do me harm, it is stunning news, but you’re right, he must be dealt with. I owe you my life, Larian.”
“It is Lizbett to whom we are indebted, Sire. Were it not for her nose…”
“Yes, my beautiful, willful daughter,” he said warmly, turning to face her.
Lizbett had been sitting quietly, too unnerved by what had happened to do anything. She wanted to be next her father, to feel the power of the throne; sensing her trepidation the King leaned in and whispered in her ear.
“All is well, child. Do not fear, this will soon be over, sooner than you might expect.”
“Thank you, father. I do confess to feeling quite shaken.”
“You have a small task to perform. Are you up to it?”
“Of course,” she nodded, feigning a bravery she did not feel.
“It’s quite simple,” he smiled, and leaning in, whispered the instruction in her ear.
“Sire,” Larian said softly, recapturing the King’s attention when he’d finished talking to Lizbett, “you must keep her in sight. If there are other culprits not yet uncovered they may still try to take her. They may see her as a way out, a bargaining chip.”
“Yes, yes, you’re right, Larian. Never fear, until this business is over she will stay in my apartments.”
“I must send an urgent message to my Prince. If there is danger here, there may be danger in Zanderone as well. We do not know the extent of this treachery.”
“Yes, yes. When the ceremony is over. We must wait until then,�
�� the King said solemnly. “Do you see that man, the one in the brown leather?” Handerah asked, nodding his head to the table opposite the one at which the plotters were seated.
“Yes, I see him.”
“He is the Commander of my personal guard, Lockley. He is drinking heavily. I don’t believe he would be downing so many goblets if he was involved. He would be watching, pretending to drink.”
“I agree, Sire, the man is happily at ease, it’s obvious.”
“You said the maiden named someone called Curullis?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“It must be Corilleus. There is no love lost between Corilleus and Lockley. When Lizbett has her accident, you must go to Lockley and tell him what’s happening. He is to slip away, find Corilleus and arrest him, and anyone with him. We can sort out the innocent from the guilty quickly enough.”
“This is a good plan,” Larian agreed. “No-one will think anything of me saying hello to a fellow warrior, especially your personal guard.”
“He must also send five of his most trusted men back here immediately to wait outside the doors for my call.”
During their exchange large platters of meat and fowl had been set upon the tables, along with boats of gravy; the King, Lizbett and Larian were sharing a single gravy bowl between them. The King was plating some meat, and Larian some fowl, when reaching for the wine bottle Lizbett ‘accidentally’ knocked the gravy bowl, sending it crashing to the floor. Handerah covertly glanced at Farris; the man’s face was ten shades of purple.
As the servants hurried to the table to clean up the mess, Larian used it as the excuse to wander across to introduce himself to Lockley. Meanwhile, back at the King’s table Lizbett told the servants to fetch the gravy boat that Farris and his three accomplices had been using.
“Ah, thank you,” Lizbett smiled, pouring the gravy across her meat.
Things settled back down, and the meal continued with some jesters juggling and some acrobats bouncing between the tables for entertainment. Every time Handerah glanced over at Farris and his cohorts, he saw only forced smiles and furrowed brows. When the platters and plates were finally cleared away and the entertainers had left the room the King rose to his feet.
“Friends of the court, may I have your attention!”
A hush fell across the crowd, and a table was carried in and placed in the center of the room where the entertainers had just been performing.
“As is the custom, our honored guest will serve you all,” he announced as a large cake was brought in and placed on the table. “With Lord Larian being such a swordsman, I’m sure the pieces will be equal.”
There was laughter and tittering in the crowd, and Larian rose from his chair.
“Thank you, Sire, it will be my great pleasure.”
Moving from his chair he strode to the table, lifted the thin, glimmering knife, and sliced through the middle of the large, square dessert. There was applause as he sliced off two pieces and presented them to the King and Lizbett.
“Prepare yourselves,” he muttered as he laid them down. “Sire, if you please.”
Handerah waited until Larian had returned to the table and was slicing more pieces, before once again rising from his chair.
“Friends of the Court, I have an announcement, and it seems appropriate to make it while Lord Larian is slicing the cake.”
Though his head was down, Larian’s eyes were not focused on his task, they were glancing across at Farris and his cronies; as he’d hoped the traitors and their wives were staring up at the King; it would have been rude to look anywhere else. Covertly retrieving the tiny vial of poison from the pocket of his vest, he dropped its contents upon the small slices of cake, keeping one untainted.
“Commander Larian will not just be a Commander for his Principality of Zanderone, he has agreed to share his experience and knowledge with us, and will be sworn in as a Commander here in Verdana.”
He balanced the four plates of cake along the length of each of his muscled arms, and as he carried them across to Farris and his comrades there was a smattering of applause and calls of congratulations. Carefully placing the dishes in front of each of them, he straightened himself up and gave a small bow to the crowd.
“When you receive your cake,” the King declared, “please eat heartily to show your support of our new Commander.”
With Larian standing directly in front of them the group were obliged to lift their forks and eat, and it was only a moment later that the commotion began.
Farris and his friends began choking, grabbing at their throats, some banging the table with their fists. Within seconds all but one of the eight was on the floor or leaning back in their chair with white foam spilling from their mouth.
“No-one move!” the King commanded.
With lightening speed Larian reached across, grabbed the sole, stunned survivor by his jacket, and lifting him easily, he yanked him over the table and flung on the floor in front of the King’s table. Falling into a crumpled, terrified heap, the once proud noble stared up at his monarch.
“Mercy, Sire, mercy,” he cried.
“Friends of the Court,” the King bellowed ignoring the pleading man and raising his voice over the panic in the room. “Farris and his friends just attempted to poison me, the Princess, and Lord Larian. Now that poison has been turned against them. No-one will leave this room until I determine it is safe for you to do so. There may be others waiting to do you harm.”
The truth was, not only did Handerah want the opportunity to interrogate each of them personally, with one of the plotters left alive he would quickly learn who else was involved and he didn’t want anyone to leave the room.
“Guards!”
The banquet doors flew open and five fully suited warriors strode forward.
“Two of you, take this man to the dungeons. You, guard this door to the banquet chamber, you two, stay by the banquet doors. No-one is to come in or leave.”
With the situation firmly in hand, Larian hurried to Lizbett’s side.
“Larian, I can’t believe it,” she breathed, her eyes wide.
“Everything is in hand,” he said calmly. “There’s something I have to do, but I will be back before the moon’s are high.”
“No,” she protested, “please, you can’t leave me.”
“You’re staying with your father until I return. I made a promise and it’s one I must keep.”
“A promise? A promise to who?” she quivered. “Surely I am more important.”
“I’ll tell you everything when I return, but I must go. Be brave for me, and do whatever your father says.”
“I will,” she said, giving up, her face crumpling. “I wish you weren’t going.”
“I must, but soon I shall come to your father’s chambers for you.”
“Hurry, and be careful.”
“I will.”
Handerah had left the table and was staring down at the bodies of Farris and his coconspirators; Larian moved quickly to his side.
“I fear there are more,” the King said ruefully.
“You will soon uncover them,” Larian assured him.
“Now it has become imperative for you to take Lizbett to your home. I would ask, had you not already requested it.”
“You’re right, Sire. You cannot have her safety on your mind while dealing with this business.”
“Exactly.”
“I must escort Falayla back to her home, along with some soldiers, and make sure her family is safe. She is waiting for me behind the green curtain. I’m sure she is still very frightened. She has no idea what just transpired here.”
“Yes, quickly. There will be four warriors at the stables, take them.”
“Thank you, Sire. I told Lizbett I would call upon her at your private apartment when I return.”
“I will be anxious to know what transpired, so we will both be waiting eagerly for your return.”
“Thank you, Sire. I will be quick.”
“
Terrible business,” the King muttered as Larian turned quickly away and headed into the chamber to fetch Falayla. “Terrible.”
CHAPTER NINE
It wasn’t until the moons were high in the sky that Larian returned to the castle. It had taken some time for him and the four guards to reach the hamlet where Falayla’s family lived, and when they arrived at the small house they found no guards. The family was perfectly safe, and were completely unaware of the drama their precious daughter had endured.
“You poor child,” her mother cried pulling her into her arms. “What a dreadful man he must have been.”
“Your daughter did the King a great service tonight, and will be rewarded,” Larian promised. “Just to be cautious I’m leaving two guards here to watch over you. They’ll stay until it is deemed safe for them to leave.”
“We’re most thankful, Sir,” Falayla’s father said humbly. “Our children are our treasure, and we are so grateful you brought her safely home.”
As Larian had ridden back to the castle he’d spotted a man fleeing through the dark, obviously one of Farris’s cohorts who had managed to escape. It was a short scuffle and the guards soon had him secured, but Larian wanted to deliver him personally to Lockley to have him thrown in dungeon for questioning.
The moons had already begun their descent as Larian was finally hurrying through the castle, down the long passageways to the King’s apartment. There were guards everywhere, security was tight, and as he approached the door he was halted before he could reach it.
“Lord Larian Lobergene. The King is expecting me.”
They made him wait while another guard disappeared to check, and he was then escorted through the doors into the foyer where he saw more guards standing at attention.
“Larian, what news?” the King asked eagerly as he strode forward to greet him.
“The family was fine, there was no-one there. It was clear they knew nothing of the attempt on your life. The poor girl suffered for no reason. On the journey to her home though, she told me Farris did exactly what we anticipated; he took the vial from her and poured it into the gravy boat himself.”
The Warrior and the Petulant Princess Page 6