The Pitchfork Rebellion: The Du Lac Chronicles - Novella

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The Pitchfork Rebellion: The Du Lac Chronicles - Novella Page 3

by Mary Anne Yarde


  “I keep trying to think of a reason why I lost the kingdom in the first place.”

  “It was because of a deranged, power-obsessed neighbour,” Merton supplied. “It had nothing to do with you and your leadership skills.”

  Alden continued speaking as if he had not heard his brother. “I keep thinking that maybe it was partly due to my age.”

  “And you want me to take the throne?” Merton said, his voice threaded with bewilderment. “I don’t know if anyone ever told you this, but I am a year younger than you. So if you couldn’t hold onto it because of your vast inexperience at leading men and leading a country that you have actually ruled very successfully for four years, then what hope do I have?”

  Alden remained silent. He just stared moodily out to sea. Merton wondered if he could even hear him.

  “I am not going to let you walk away from this. I am certainly not going to let you kill yourself. We will get through this - transitional stage - together,” Merton continued. “Things are bad now, but they are not always going to be like this. The people will come to love Annis, because you know as well as I, there is nothing about that woman that you cannot love. And they will all see that - eventually. And as for them thinking you are a coward or a traitor or whatever accusations they want to throw at you - tell them. Tell them what you did. Show them your back - let them know how you suffered. Show them how you were willing to sacrifice everything for them. For God’s sake, Cerdic tortured you.”

  “I know what he did,” Alden yelled again. “I was there.”

  This time Merton’s horse pulled the reins from his hands and turned tail and galloped away in the direction of the camp. Merton watched as his horse clambered up the sandbank and then with his tail held high he galloped out of sight. “Fantastic,” Merton mumbled under his breath. “If anything happens to that horse you owe me a new one.”

  Alden closed his eyes as he tried to will his temper back under control. He was losing all control. He wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear or walk into the sea until the water was over his head. Death was appealing because it looked so much more peaceful than life.

  “It will get better,” Merton said after a time. “You need to give it time.”

  “How can it get better?” Alden hissed the words between his teeth. “The bastard is still alive.” Alden closed his eyes briefly. He had not meant to say that. He did not want anyone to know how deeply he feared the man who had raped his kingdom and ordered the flesh to be whipped from his back.

  “Now we are getting somewhere,” Merton said, and he exhaled in relief. He could fight Cerdic of Wessex - because Wessex was real. He could not fight Alden’s guilt and sense of failure. “God! - Alden! - You had me frightened for a minute.” Merton rubbed his hand over his face and sighed deeply. “He is gone,” Merton spoke carefully. “I know that is not enough for you, but for now, he isn’t a threat. We drove him back to Wessex.”

  “We drove him?” Alden laughed. “We spent the last two months fighting skirmishes. We didn’t drive him anywhere, he ran.”

  “He fears Budic’s army.” Merton stated.

  “Oh, for the love of God - do you really believe that?” Alden shook his head and looked at his brother. There were tears in his eyes and he let Merton see the fear he had tried so hard to keep hidden for so long. “We are talking about the man who murdered Nathanloed of Sussex and slaughtered his army of five thousand. We are talking about the man who, without any signs of fear, crossed the channel and challenged Budic. He did not fear Budic’s army then and he certainly does not fear it now. He ran and I want to know why. I cannot sleep. I cannot think straight. All I can think about is him and I fear he is driving me insane.”

  “He is not driving you insane,” Merton said. “I won’t allow that.”

  Alden scoffed again. “I can’t live this life, not anymore…I just want it all to stop. I want to take Annis and I want to disappear. Change my name. Start again.”

  “Do you really think I don’t know that is what you want? I know you, Alden, better than anyone else does…But if you run…Then you will be labelled a coward and this time I will not be able to dispute that claim because it will be true. I will not be able to help you.”

  “I don’t care,” Alden shouted. “What part of that can you not understand? I do not care.”

  “Stop lying to me and stop lying to yourself,” Merton warned, his voice hard. “Alden, I know you want him dead. I know you do not feel safe knowing that he is still out there, but you have to trust me. I am not going to let him hurt you again. What happened before will not happen again. You have to believe that. I kept you away during the battles where he was - ”

  “Skirmishes.” Alden corrected.

  “Skirmishes, whatever you want to call them. I made sure you were nowhere near him - if you run then I cannot protect you like that. You run and Wessex will follow you; I can guarantee that because he will come for Annis and your child. You need the protection of the crown.”

  “He will come for me no matter what I do,” he said, defeat in his voice.

  “Is that really what you think?” Merton asked. “Do you really think I would allow that to happen?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “No, I don’t. So explain yourself.”

  “What do you want from me, Merton? Do you want me to bare my soul, tell you all my inner fears? Lay it all on the ground for you to laugh at?”

  “I would never laugh at you. Ever. In fact, I am insulted that you would even think I would.”

  “Fine,” Alden snapped, “if you want to know the truth then I will tell you.” He turned his face away from his brother, but he did not speak, not straight away. Instead he just stood there, as still as any statue and looked out unseeing to the horizon. Merton stood by his side; he too remained silent, waiting for Alden to begin. The only sound was that of the waves as they crept up to the shore, listening for secrets, before quickly retreating and hiding them in their unfathomable depths forever.

  “When I was running with Annis, and we were chased by his soldiers, all I could think about was getting her to safety,” Alden began. “I was so scared I was going to fail her. When we reached Sussex and I saw everything that Natanleod had, I realised just how much I had lost. I had fallen in love with her by then, but I knew I had nothing to offer her, so I told her,” he groaned as if he had suffered a physical blow to his gut, “I told her I had had enough of her company and that she was to stay with Natanleod. I was almost out the door and she…she told me she loved me. I couldn’t leave her then, as much as I may have wanted to…”

  “I didn’t know that,” Merton said. “Annis is good for you.”

  “Natanleod shouldn’t have died.”

  “That wasn’t your fault,” Merton replied. “You have to stop blaming yourself for his death. He knew what he was doing; he wasn’t a fool and please remember it was Wessex that took his life, not you. You were not even there.”

  “I should have been,” Alden replied, “Instead I ran to Brittany.”

  “And you found yourself at the mercy of our brother. When I found out what Budic did to you, how he treated you…” Merton sighed deeply. “I wish I had been there.”

  “You were with Natanleod.”

  “No, I wasn’t with him either. I was too late; the battle had already been decided. Can’t you remember?”

  “I remember everything about that time. When Budic - did what he did - when he took Annis away from me. I…I started dreaming of him.” He stopped. His brother did not need to hear this.

  “Who did you dream of?” Merton asked, his voice slightly unsteady.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Alden said, ashamed for even bringing the subject up.

  “I think it does. Tell me.”

  “You will think me a fool.”

  “Well, I’ve thought that for a very long time anyway,” Merton teased, “so I swear, whatever you say, my opinion will not waver. Just tell me. You never know; it migh
t help.”

  “How can it possibly help?” Alden queried. “It is just a dream.”

  “Last night I dreamt I was a squirrel,” Merton supplied helpfully. “And I had this massive nut,” Merton held his arms out wide in demonstration of its size, “and I was trying to get it into a hole this big,” he made a small circle shape by placing his thumb and his finger together.

  “Merton, I am not dreaming about a squirrel and a nut, but if I were you I’d keep such dreams to yourself,” Alden said, trying his hardest not to smile. He didn’t want to smile. He had no right to smile.

  “I have only ever told you that I have a fetish for squirrels,” Merton said, “so in the interest of fairness - I’ve shared my innermost thoughts; it’s only right that you do the same.”

  “You have a fetish for squirrels?” Alden asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Only on a Sunday,” Merton replied with a grin.

  “You are an idiot,” Alden said.

  “Never said I wasn’t. Talk to me, Alden. Tell me what these dreams are about.”

  Alden breathed deeply then let out an unsteady breath. “All right,” he finally said, “but my dreams aren’t as interesting as yours.”

  “Yeah, well, we can’t all be perfect, can we?”

  “You have a strange idea about what perfection is,” Alden replied and this time he knew that he was grinning. He had missed this. Missed the banter between him and Merton. He schooled his features and replaced his smile with a frown.

  “You are allowed to smile.” Merton’s tone was full of understanding. “You are allowed to be happy. Do not let Wessex destroy who you are, because if you do, he will have gained a greater victory than merely taking your kingdom.”

  Alden didn’t answer. He knew deep down that Merton was right. He was becoming bitter and he had sworn he would not let Wessex do that to him. Wessex was destroying the man he was. He was lost and he did not know how to return home.

  “Can you remember what I was like when we lost Father and Mother?” Merton asked quietly. Neither of them liked speaking of that time; the pain was too great. It had been bad enough they had lost their father. Their mother had then died unexpectedly two days later. The healer had said it was from a broken heart.

  “You didn’t speak for two sennights. It was very peaceful. What has this got to do with Wessex?”

  “I wanted to hide. Hide myself away from the world.”

  “You did hide. No one could find you for two days. You scared the life out of me.” Alden heard his own words and he saw the way Merton was looking at him. “You cannot compare the two situations. You were a child.”

  “But you were the one who never stopped looking for me. You were the one who found me. You were the one who went out of your way to try and make me laugh. Even when I rebuked you, you never gave up. You sat with me when I ate, to make sure that I did. You read to me, you played with me, you took me out riding.”

  “You are my brother. I wasn’t going to give up on you.” Again Alden heard what he said and he shook his head. No one could play with words like Merton. Merton could convince you the sun was blue if you gave him enough time. And the thing was, you wouldn’t realise that he had manipulated your opinion in any way. You would think that the whole concept of the sun being blue was something you had thought up by yourself. “I know what you are trying to do, Merton, and it isn’t going to work.”

  Undeterred, Merton continued, “One night, not long after my two-day disappearance, I woke up in the middle of the night screaming and you…you rushed into my chamber - ”

  “Of course I rushed into your chamber. I thought someone was murdering you,” Alden said, remembering.

  “Maybe so, but Garren didn’t come and neither did Budic and all our chambers were on the same floor. If I remember rightly, yours was the farthest away from mine.”

  “Merton - ”

  “You calmed me down and asked what I had dreamt of. I didn’t want to tell you because I feared you would laugh at me and call me a baby, but you said that the only way to stop a dream from coming true was to tell it. So I told you and you didn’t laugh. Instead you got into bed with me and held me throughout that night and the following nights for the next month. Let me return the favour and help you now.”

  “You are not sleeping with me,” Alden instantly retorted.

  Merton laughed briefly. “Well, it might be a little crowded, what with Annis and all, but you could tell me your dream and let me kill that demon for you, the way you killed that demon for me.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” Alden said, clearly distressed.

  “Try.” Merton closed the distance between them and placed his hand on Alden’s shoulder. “I am not going anywhere and I swear I would never think less of you, no matter what you tell me.”

  Alden took a moment to prepare himself. He felt Merton’s hand on his shoulder and it gave him strength. He had been alone in this nightmare for too long; it was time to share the burden. “In my dreams I am tied to that bloody post.” Alden felt his heart rate speed up and he inhaled nervously. He felt Merton squeeze his shoulder in encouragement. “And they are taking the skin from my back, but this time it is worse, because to the left of me is Annis, and they are doing the same to her.” He closed his eyes against the image.

  He heard Merton swear softly. “Why didn’t you say something? When did you start having these dreams?”

  Alden opened his eyes. “They started when I was in Brittany. When Budic snatched Annis from me and made her sign that bloody annulment. When I finally got Annis back, they lessened somewhat, they were not so intense. I thought I had them back under control, but since coming here…”

  “They are worse,” Merton guessed.

  “Annis is to the left of me and you are to the right. I have to watch the two most important people in my life being tortured and there is nothing I can do about it. But the night before last I dreamt - ” He inhaled sharply. “I dreamt of the baby, my baby. Wessex had him in his hands and he smashed his little head against the wall and he turned and looked at me...” His voice trailed off. “I am afraid to sleep.”

  “I swear to you,” Merton said, his voice trembling with emotion, “that Wessex will never set eyes on your son, let alone come close enough to hurt him. He will never come near you again. You will never have to see him again. I promise you that.”

  “But it is not just him, is it?” Alden said on a shaky sigh. “There are others who want me dead as well.”

  Chapter 3

  Instead of disagreeing or offering words of comfort, Merton knelt down on the damp sand next to his brother’s feet and began to draw in the sand with his finger.

  “What are you doing now?” Alden asked. He had just bared his soul to his brother and now Merton was what? Making sandcastles?

  “Father said that there was always a choice,” Merton said, squinting up at him. “These are your choices. The first one is this.” He sat back a little so Alden could see what he had written. Merton had scrawled a single name in the sand. Wessex.

  “What does that mean?” Alden asked, perplexed.

  “It means I go and find my horse and I ride to Wessex tonight. I will find Cerdic and I will assassinate him and his son. Just say it and I will do it. You know I can.”

  Alden stared hard at the name in the sand, then he fell down to his knees next to his brother and he put a line through Wessex’s name with his finger. If only he could destroy the man as easily as he could destroy his name. It was so tempting to say yes. He had never wanted someone to die as much as he wanted Wessex to.

  “I need to know my other choice before I can commit to this one,” Alden said.

  “All right - but just bear in mind that I am more than happy to murder Wessex. Just say the word and it will be done. I don’t want him haunting your dreams anymore.” Merton spoke with such absolute passion that Alden knew he was sincere.

  “Just tell me what my other choice is.”

  “It is easie
r to show you. I have been thinking about this for a while and I have a plan,” Merton said, smiling.

  “When don’t you?” Alden asked, but the despair in his voice had lessened. He wasn’t alone in this anymore. Merton was with him. Merton had always been with him; he had just been too wrapped up in himself to notice. He wished now he had confided in Merton earlier and he didn’t know why he had not. Maybe it had been pride. He was after all the older brother; it should be him looking out for Merton, not the other way around.

  “I like to be prepared,” Merton answered as he began to draw in the sand again, “and I cannot stop myself from thinking - believe me, I have tried. But I think this idea will meet with your approval.”

  “As long as it is not like that scheme you had for making the chickens lay eggs throughout the winter.”

  “For a five-year-old that was a really good idea,” Merton said a touch of amusement in his voice, “and it would have worked as well if Budic and Garren had not put a stop to it by telling Father.”

  “They had good reason to - they did come back and find their chambers full of chickens.”

  “They lacked vision,” Merton said in his defence.

  “What about the time you decided to try and make us all believe that our sister’s mare had tried to eat you? You came into the Hall with blood all over your tunic. Heaven knows where the blood came from.”

  Merton chuckled, “Elouan had butchered a pig. Goodness knows what he thought of me when I came into the slaughterhouse carrying a bucket and asking him to fill it up. It was Father fault, of course; he had been telling me stories of Hercules - he should have known better. I spent almost a month trying to divert the river so it would wash out the stables.”

  “And instead you flooded the village! My God, I had forgot about that. You had an eventful childhood, didn’t you?”

 

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