Past of Shadows

by Colleen Connally

  “What says you, Earl Marshal from the House Halstead?” King Edulf asked. “Speak up. My grandson has directly contradicted your account.”

  “If it pleases Your Majesty, the mission was to retrieve the occupants of the cottage. Your men held true. We captured the lot of them and brought them back to you.” His look toward Lord Moryn did not go unnoticed by Silas.

  “By Gawds!” King Edulf boomed in a voice that would have carried over any battlefield. “Your orders were to obtain the inhabitants to see if they were indeed my missing grandchildren…not to engage in battle!”

  “Your pardon, Your Grace, the battle was most unfortunate,” Earl Marshal offered, pointing at Cono. “If not for his inexperience, we would have managed without aggression. The men were on edge for all know we cannot trust any Brixtonen, especially that peacock of a prince that gave us the information. With the screech of that scared one, the men went into battle formation.”

  Cono stood firm. “I made no cry, Your Grace.”

  “Someone did!” King Edulf stated. Rising from his seat, he walked up to Cono. “If not you, who?”

  Shaking his head, Cono defended himself, “I know not who it was, but I know it was not I.”

  “I will confirm Cono’s claim, Grandfather,” Silas confirmed. “He flew beside me.”

  “Then who made the cry? Who wanted to attack my grandchildren?” King Edulf demanded, snapped his head back at Silas.

  Silas looked at the Earl Marshal. His account of the mission varied greatly from the reality of what had happened. Silas had always known the man to be honest and true. There again was much more going on here than how the mission went wrong.

  There had been no random cry. The surprise attack had been precise, enacted as Earl Marshal had planned. The question lay in what had been the intent.

  Silas acknowledged he had not been summoned to accompany the King’s Wings. But when, at King’s Council, the arrogant Brixtone prince proclaimed he had found Mithelk’s children, Silas would not be tied down to the barracks.

  It had been he that had insisted Axel come with them. In his eyes, they were duty bound— the grandsons of King Edulf—to face their cousins…if in truth, they were his cousins. They had been…and much more.

  True, Silas was young…yea…in years, but he had been raised in the King’s household. Now, he sat upon a quandary for suddenly it had become obvious. Someone had had other plans concerning the missing children.

  Plans that had gone array.

  His grandfather? Silas thought not. King Edulf had accepted back Prince Mithelk’s children, especially Falco, who bore the true mark. One look, Silas could tell that Falco had the makings of a respected ruler, much like the king himself, unlike Axel.

  Silas glanced over at his father, the great Lord of Dwennon, Crown Prince of Scarladin…though that would change once Falco was declared.

  Could it have been his father? He had the most to lose with Falco’s appearance.

  His father was no longer heir apparent.

  A fact that would make his mother, Lady Dagmar, quite wretched, more so than even losing her eldest son.

  Her position in court would change. Her desire to be queen one day dashed.

  That ambition that could have led to a rash decision to alter Falco’s fate. But his mother had no power over the King’s Wings. Moreover, she was much smarter than that. She would be much more devious than a blatant out and out attack on the siblings.

  Whoever it had been had no inkling what they faced when they called the attack. A most powerful Euchoun, protector of Sordarins…and she protected her own. In the most impressive manner.

  Who would have thought a Euchoun a woman!

  “I do not mean to go against the young prince. I’m certain he was distraught over the loss of his brother. It is difficult in the midst of battle to determine the interactions of everyone around you,” Earl Marshal barked.

  Honor and loyalty had been the staple of his character. Silas would never allow a slight to blemish his reputation. “It does not take experience to hear an order, Earl Marshal,” Silas declared in a stiff voice. “I have also been known to recognize when a warning has been given. There was no warning.”

  “Once the war cry was given, we attacked the cottage immediately, Your Majesty,” Cono bolstered Silas’ claim. “Torches lit the thatched roof. Then, we readied, only to be facing down a crippled Sordarin and a boy, who doesn’t even have his wings. Both fought valiantly, but were no match for us. What we weren’t prepared for was a Euchoun…”

  “Who killed my son!” Prince Fenwick interrupted hotly. “There will be consequences.”

  “I had hold of her, Your Grace. She killed no one. The blast hurled everyone in her path away from her family. That was all,” Cono stated unflinching.

  “Hold,” King Edulf said. His attention focused on Cono. “You had hold of the girl…by her arms?”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Cono answered. “Prince Silas recognized her ability. He gave the order.”

  “Tell me how she accomplished such an action with her arms by her side?” King Edulf demanded. “An impossibility.”

  “A light projected from her eyes,” Cono continued. “Leaving our men sprawled over the ground, yet her family unharmed.”

  Silas watched his grandfather search Cono’s face. No Euchoun had ever been able to project without the use of their hands. This girl had.

  “If she did as you say, then how did she kill Prince Axel?” King Edulf questioned, glancing over at the Earl Marshal. “And why?”

  “She did not, Your Grace. She couldn’t have. She was within my view the entire time,” Cono said firmly. “She was unconscious when Prince Axel was discovered with a knife in his back.”

  Staring straight at the Earl Marshal, King Edulf folded his hands in front of him. His anger apparent to all within the chamber. He raised his voice, “The last week, I have focused upon the loss of one grandson and the discovery of another. I placed trust in you, Earl Marshal. It seems I was mistaken to have done so.”

  King Edulf motioned for Ser Ruche, the Court’s Justice. “Take the Earl Marshal to Torni.”

  Perplexed, Earl Marshal protested fervently, “Your Grace, I have done nothing wrong. I have been a faithful servant…”

  “You have lied to me,” King Edulf said as he watched the brawny Ruche take hold of the Earl Marshal’s arm. “Pray to the Great One that is the worst of your sins.”

  The King’s Word

  The reddish rays of the first light of dawn stretched over the horizon. Silas had yet to lay his head on a pillow. He could find no peace. He couldn’t stop thinking of his brother—who had died because him.

  Guilt gnawed at his soul.

  Axel was to have been king, not by strength, but by birth. Despite his brother’s weaknesses…and there had been many…Silas had loved him.

  Theirs births had been close, only eleven months between the two. They had grown up side by side, though it had always been him, the younger, who protected Axel.

  Axel had not been born to lead. He cowered at any confrontation, hiding behind his title…hiding behind his brother.

  That was the way between the brothers. He had sworn to Axel his allegiance when he was ten. He swore he would always be by his brother’s side. He had held to it…

  Now, Axel was dead because of his insistence.

  In the cool morning air, Silas walked within the royal gardens. The scent of gardenias lingered in the air, but he gave it no notice, nor to the lustrous abundance of blooming roses. He wanted only to be away from everyone.

  He heaved a heavy sigh.

  Looking upward, he saw the morning unit soar out of the bailey. The sight gave comfort to the masses below. A façade that all was right.

  All was not right.

  “I, too, could find no sleep.”

  Silas turned to see the king. “I have much on my mind, Your Grace.”

  “As we all do,” King Edulf motioned back toward Wystan Keep. The ki
ng’s apartment was in Collewihr Holdfast, a massive fortification nestled at the top of the highest tower of the Keep. Down below the balcony, guardsmen stood in continual watch on the ramparts. “Let us go to my suite. We need to talk without ears around.”

  Straightway, Silas followed his grandfather. Landing, he walked through the open glass doors. Fire blazed in giant hearth, burning the cold from the early morning air. Flapping his wings, Silas tucked them back and settled into one of the Sordarin chairs.

  King Edulf went over to the decanter and poured two cups of wine. Dressed still in a white linen tunic and gray pants, he gave one cup to Silas. Walking over to the hearth, he stared at the arching flames.

  “I have been betrayed,” King Edulf said at last.

  “No, Grandfather. We have been betrayed.”

  “My own fault for I am certain the betrayal is deep within my ranks.”

  “My Lord Earl Marshal?”

  “Possibly.” King Edulf turned around. His eyes staring straight ahead. “His Lord Halstead has been my faithful servant since the Terror. I find it hard to imagine that he has forsaken me…hard, but not impossible.”

  “I have learned to face facts before me. The girl did not kill Axel, on that be assured. Though, to be true, she worries me, Grandfather, as does the emergence of the new heir apparent.”

  King Edulf frowned while he drank from his cup. He looked uncomfortable. “For certain, you have heard the rumors of your cousins. I understand your concerns, but if your cousin lived, you must have been aware that one day Falco would come home to reclaim what was his.”

  “If I can speak frankly.”

  “You may.”

  “I thought as you had proclaimed my father crown prince and declared Axel his heir that you had given up on the notion Falco lived.” He knew he treaded on dangerous ground. No one questioned the King, not even his grandson.

  “Ah, the young!” The King emptied his cup, slamming it down onto the side table. “To know so much, yet know nothing.”

  “I beg your pardon, Grandfather? It is only…you did not see the power the girl exhibited. As nothing I have ever seen…how could she be my cousin? A woman as a Euchoun? That has to be questioned.”

  “A question without answer.” The King swore under his breath, looking away again at the fire. “I have thought of nothing else since the children were discovered. For I have been tricked before by the Withelegheans. Now I’m beginning to wonder what else has been held from me.”

  “Tricked, Grandfather?”

  King Edulf walked out on the balcony. Silas followed. He could see the King’s expressive face. The man was wrestling with demons.

  “What do I not know?”

  The king groaned. “I made a match for your Uncle Mithelk with a Witheleghe, payment in our defense, our swords, against the Terror. It was one to be envied. A Sordarin wed to a Witheleghean. The magic we were to have…the power! Except when the time came, King Daruis sent his second born daughter to honor our agreement…the arrogant bastard had the gall to send me his second daughter…refused me his eldest. The impudence!”

  “None the less, the princess must have had magic.”

  King Edulf roared in laughter. “How little you know…how little did I know then. The Withelegheans hoard their magic. Three Hells to his Majesty! I hadn’t a clue that Witheleghean law rules their land. That once married to an outsider the Withelegheans lose their magic.”

  “Yet, the magic must have passed to her children. The youngest glows.”

  “There is the rub,” King Edulf nodded, the sly smile still on his face. “I had no knowledge that the magic would pass to the next generation, if the princess had none herself.” He drew in a sharp breath. “According to young Falco, he holds some. He communicates mentally with his siblings at will…can talk and understand any language. Sareta is the one that holds the magic that most covet. Their middle sister is the one that is the Euchoun…a bloody Euchoun.”

  “As I spoke, an impossibility.”

  “Yet, she is.” King Edulf’s mouth twisted into a bitter grimace. “The question becomes was that Withelegheans’ plan all along?”

  Silas’s curiosity rose. He asked quietly, “But why would they have thought a Euchoun would emerge from the union?”

  “Why indeed…but I suspect.” King Edulf said as if he was talking to himself. “I do not take well to be taking for a fool.”

  “Why do such a thing? Euchouns were given to us Sordarins as a gift from the Great One. To protect us…”

  “When we are threatened…Yes, I know the prophecy well,” King Edulf finished. “I also realize that as strong as the Euchoun you described emerges only when the threat is as great or greater. I sense it coming. Do you not?”

  “The disturbances along the border?” Silas shook his head. “No, they have been silenced.”

  “Have they? What of Axel’s death? Who would benefit from it?” King Edulf argued. “No one that I can see. The assailant would have known of the three’s emergence. You would have gained nothing because of Falco’s return. Axel’s death begets chaos, leaving doubts in our hearts. Making us question each other. It was how it was before the Terror. It is how the Arcadians think.”

  “Arcadians? Here in Yucca? In your Wings?” Silas could not withhold his disbelief. “Never.”

  “If you want to be a defender of Scarladin, do not discount what you don’t understand,” King Edulf said. “You need to question everyone, every motive. You haven’t even questioned how I came to know the Three were there in Brixtone.”

  “I assumed it had to do with Prince Pieter’s visit.”

  The king’s eyebrows raised dubiously. “Yes, the prince was quite forthcoming…for a price.”

  “How much did it cost us?”

  “The Euchoun. I gave a Meitfe Oath.”

  * * * *

  King Edulf stated, “We must never give Brixton our Euchoun. It cannot happen.”

  Silas agreed with his grandfather. The magnitude of the decision was not lost on him. He had been taught to respect and honor oaths. One’s word reflected on more than just a man, but his house as well. Yet, the consequences of keeping to this oath would have far reaching effects.

  The penalty for reneging on a Meitfe Oath was death. There had to be a way out of the dilemma. That had been the reason for the king to have called the special council.

  “There has to be a solution,” Lord Lothar said, sitting next to the king. “We need time to find an answer. At this point, delay is our only choice. I believe that would be understandable and Prince Pieter could hardly protest. The girl has only thus turned thirteen and has only recently been returned to her home. She does not want to be separated from her siblings.”

  Lord Lothar, a highly respected warrior, spoke with wisdom. Silas doubted that Lothar had ever considered breaking one of his oaths, but even he recognized the danger of upholding the agreement.

  “I say that we offer Prince Pieter, the Princess Belasquita. Surly, he would not object. She is beautiful, poised, and set to be a queen,” Lord Pigoc offered. An elderly man with a thick, coarse gray beard, he was short, which was not uncommon for an Osmolado. Though, the clan was more renowned for their quickness. Over the years, he had acquired a stoop when he walked and a tremble in his wings.

  “Was this solution one you came up on your own? Or is this the Lady Dagmar suggestion? Her daughter for Prince Pieter?” Lothar asked icily.

  “Lady Dagmar knows that the prince is here, and is quite intelligent enough to propose the arrangement. She has no knowledge the prince has requested the middle child…the Euchoun,” Pigoc huffed. “Why would she? We are holding the girl in Torni, but I do believe that Lady Dogmar is concerned that Prince Pieter has the youngest in his sights.”

  Silas smirked. So like his mother, worried and anxious for her daughter. Nothing was good enough for Belasquita but a future king. He could well imagine her plotting with Lord Pigoc…and Axel not cold in his grave.

  “No o
ne outside this room should know of what we talk,” King Edulf said with a voice like an edge of a sword.

  “I would never, Your Majesty.” Pigoc lowered his head in a bow. “It was a mere suggestion.”

  King Edulf’s face tightened. “This meeting is to deal with the problem at hand. My three missing grandchildren have returned. I hold no doubt that Falco is Mithelk’s child. Falco looks like his father and holds the mark of the heir.”

  His grandfather made no mention of the Witheleghean nurse or of the Sordarin guard with the children as he had with Silas in the morning. Both gave vivid details of their journey, which upheld the children’s claim.

  “The realm will welcome the prince home, Your Grace,” Lothar said. “The people will rejoice, brightening the darkness that has befallen us with Prince Axel’s death.”

  “So it is agreed that we will acknowledge the two, Falco and Sareta,” King Edulf said. “The young princess will be raised with my daughter, Iris, and her family. Falco will be crowned heir apparent after a sufficient amount of time has passed. The celebration will be in accordance of the joy of reuniting with my grandchildren.”

  “The girl?” Silas had not received an answer from his grandfather in the morning. He pressed, “We cannot let her pass out of our hands. A Euchoun is too valuable to Scarladin. I offer for her…”

  King Edulf raised his hand to halt Silas’ words. “A Euchoun such as she…that is a delicate situation to allow any marriage. She has not bonded yet. Though with the power she displayed, it would be my thought that it is her brother.”

  “I would train her, Grandfather,” Silas continued his quest. “She is strong as a Euchoun, but weak as a female. Her emotions played with her. Look how long it took her to recover. That could never be in a battle.”

  “Agreed.” King Edulf admitted. “But if I give her to you, I will endure not only the wrath of Brixtone, but of the Great One for breaking my Meitfe Oath.”

  “I reiterate, the best solution is to keep her in the Tower and not acknowledged,” Lothar spoke clearly. “From my understanding, she is being well cared for.”