The Du Lac Chronicles: Book 1

by Mary Yarde

  “I came here to talk.”

  “You came here to fight and a fight is what you shall get. You have underestimated us yet again. And you will live to rue the day you brought your fleet to Brittany. Look out to sea, Lord Wessex. Where are your boats with your army?” Merton chided.

  Cerdic turned to face the coast. He couldn’t see anything, for night had descended quickly. Then it dawned on him, he couldn’t see anything. No lights, nothing.

  “I believe my brother informed you that you could choose the battleground. Sea or land, it makes no difference to me,” Budic said, breaking out into a rare genuine smile.

  “Where are my men?” Cerdic asked, the confidence gone from his voice, replaced with panic.

  “Bottom of the sea, I should think,” Merton answered with a careless shrug of his shoulders.

  “I came here for my daughter, nothing else,” Cerdic stated, pointing to the ground with his finger.

  “You may well have come here for your daughter, but you certainly are not leaving with her. You travelled here with your son, didn’t you? I do hope it is not him that you left on the beach and is now at this moment swinging from the gallows, just over the rise,” Merton said.

  “I will remember you, Merton du Lac,” Cerdic exploded, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it and swinging it wildly in the air.

  Budic’s horse reared and caught the tip of the blade. The animal screamed and reared again, throwing Budic heavily upon the ground before swinging around sharply and bolting away.

  “It is you I came for,” Cerdic said, pointing the tip of his sword at Alden. “Will you fight me?”

  “It will be my pleasure,” Alden said.

  “No,” Merton yelled, coming between them with his sword in his hand. “If you want to fight someone, fight me.”

  “Can’t you fight your own battles? Do you need your little brother to fight them for you?” Cerdic jeered as Budic’s men surrounded him. Cerdic’s attention was drawn away from Alden and towards the soldiers, whose spears were sharp and pointed straight at him. He roared his rage before dropping his sword, but he did not fall to his knees. He accepted his fate with a sort of hostile dignity, cursing under his breath. One of the soldiers tied Cerdic’s hands tightly behind his back. He did nothing to resist.

  “Do not think you have won,” Cerdic yelled, trying to see Alden through the mass of armour and weapons that had clouded his view. “Do not think you have won, Alden du Lac. I shall meet you again. I shall take the last breath from your body. I shall make you wish you were dead, I shall —”

  Whatever else Cerdic had planned to say no one would ever know because he was stopped midsentence due to a blow to his head from behind. Alden looked down at Cerdic’s body and sheathed his sword. “That was for Cerniw,” he said, spitting on Cerdic. Cerdic slowly moved in the dirt, blood pouring from the cut on his head. He tried to get up, but Alden stamped hard on his back and Cerdic sprawled in the dirt again. “And that was for me. Take the bastard to the dungeons.”

  Alden stood back and watched as two soldiers picked Cerdic up underneath his arms and dragged him towards the castle.

  “Now what?” he asked as Budic came to stand before him.

  “That is up to you. I will leave it to you to decide what you want to do with the King of Wessex. He is, after all, your adversary.”

  “And you would support me, no matter what my decision?”

  “Of course,” Budic promised. He turned to look at Merton, who stared back stonily.

  24

  The chamber was dark, no fire burned in the hearth. Annis fumbled her way into the room, found the bed and sank down softly upon it.

  “Alden.” She whispered his name and reached for him.

  He caught her hand, brought it to his mouth, and kissed her palm. “Your father is in the dungeon.”

  “I know. Merton just told me.”

  “I wanted to run, instead of facing him.” His voice caught on a sob. “If it wasn’t for Merton, I would have.” He reached for her then, drawing comfort from her embrace.

  “He hurt you,” Annis said softly, holding him tightly.

  “You saved me,” he answered.

  “We saved each other.”

  They held each other for a long time, each taking comfort from the other’s embrace, and losing themselves in the darkness that surrounded them.

  “Edmee killed herself,” Alden blurted out, the darkness giving him a kind of courage that he had not possessed before. “She killed herself.”

  “Alden.” Annis drew back and framed his face in her hands, wishing she could see him.

  “It was my fault,” Alden said. “I gave her everything I could. I tried to make her happy, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted my love, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t give it to her. And then one day Merton found her naked in his bed.” He laughed bitterly. “She frightened the life out of him. She was pregnant. I don’t even know if the child was mine.” He stopped and he inhaled sharply.

  “Oh, Alden.” Annis leant forward, kissing the tears from his face, and placing his hand on her stomach. “This child is yours, as I am yours.”

  “Annis, I —”

  She kissed him gently on the lips, silencing him. “You don’t have to say anything else.”

  “I want you to know. When Merton told me that she tried to seduce him, I wished her dead, but I didn’t think she would actually die. I tried to stop the bleeding.”

  “I don’t doubt that you did everything you could. You are a good man, Alden, and you had cause to hate her,” she kissed him softly. “Only a good person would feel guilty about something that was completely out of their control.”

  “I am so glad you rescued me,” he said with a sigh.

  She felt his words against her lips. “I am glad of that too.”

  “But maybe after tomorrow you will not feel that way about me. I am going to sentence your father to death and I am going to be the one to take his life,” Alden confessed. “I need to do this.” He waited for Annis to withdraw; instead, he felt her hands brushing his hair away from his face.

  “I know,” she said. “I expected you to say that.”

  “Will you hate me for it?”

  “Hate you? For ridding the world of a madman? For freeing me? How could I possibly hate you for that?”

  The sunlight streamed through the cracks in the window shutters. The chamber was cold, so cold that Alden could see his own breath as white clouds of condensation when he breathed. Annis was asleep, her head on his shoulder, her hand curled around his neck. Slowly, so as not to wake her, he rose. Something wasn’t right. He tried to reassure himself that it was simply because Cerdic was in the dungeons below, but he feared it was something else. Something — he could not quite put his finger on it, but something felt out of place.

  He felt cold, so he quickly dressed. He then went over to the hearth and made the fire up, lighting it and feeding it kindling until the flames took, so when his wife awoke it would at least be warm.

  He opened the door; a guard was waiting outside, half asleep, for he had been there all night. Budic had ordered armed guards on all the royal chambers. The guard stood straighter as Alden walked passed him. The castle was quiet. Strangely so. He walked down the corridor to the far end and knocked softly on John’s door, before pushing it open. The old man was awake, propped up by a heap of pillows. Merton was sitting in a chair by the bed; his head had lolled forward in sleep. The room smelt of death and sickness.

  “Alden?” Merton asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

  “How is he?”

  “I am not dead yet,” John said, but the effort of speaking cost him a great deal.

  “Cerdic is in the dungeons.” Alden said.

  “I know. Merton is quite the strategist.” John said. “You can return home.”
>
  “I can.”

  “I am glad for you. I am not long for this world, so listen to me carefully. Leave here, as soon as you are able. Promise me you will never come back.”

  Alden and Merton looked at each other.

  “Why would you say that? What do you know?” Alden asked.

  “I know what happened to Garren. I have kept it to myself until now because there is nothing any of us could do to change it.”

  “Tell me. Tell me now. John.” Alden raised his voice when the old man did not answer. He walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. “John,” he said again, but John did not move; he just stared into space. Alden bent his head and rested it on John’s chest. There was no heartbeat. Alden raised his head and looked at Merton. “He is dead.”

  Merton closed his eyes in frustration and laid his head back against the chair. It was so typical of John in life to leave one waiting and guessing. Why should his death have been any different?

  “Budic killed Garren,” Alden stated, coming to his own conclusions.

  “John did not say that.” Merton replied, opening his eyes.

  “But you are thinking it as well. Tell me I am wrong.”

  “After yesterday’s revelations, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  Budic was waiting for them in the Great Hall. He had on his finest clothes and a crown on his head. It was as if he was getting ready for a coronation.

  “John is dead,” Alden said.

  “And Cerdic has escaped. Someone here is a traitor.” He looked pointedly at Alden. “Someone close to Wessex.”

  “He has escaped?” Alden asked in disbelief, not hearing Budic’s unspoken accusation in his words.

  “But who would help him?” Budic asked his court as if someone could solve the mystery for him.

  “Escaped, Cerdic of Wessex has escaped?” Alden asked again. “The bastard was in your dungeons and now you are telling me he has escaped?”

  “He was helped,” Budic stated.

  “Helped? By whom?” Merton asked, coming to stand next to Alden.

  Budic glowered down at Merton from his throne. “No one knows. The prison guards were drugged; they have no recollection of what happened. And those who were guarding the rest of his army on the beach are dead.”

  Alden looked across quickly at Merton. Merton was very still as he listened, almost catatonic.

  “Perhaps your plan wasn’t as good as you thought it was, Merton. We should have sunk the ships, not taken the men prisoners.” Budic dragged his gaze away from Merton and looked at Alden. “I want him dead. No one escapes my dungeons. You can have my men, as many as you want. I have already given the order. The horses are being loaded onto the boats as we speak. I suggest you go and pack. You can leave Annis here until things are settled. I will look after her for you. Go and make our father proud.”

  Merton bowed and left the hall without a backward glance. Alden mumbled an awkward thanks and then he followed Merton out of the hall.

  Merton was waiting for him. “It doesn’t make sense,” Merton said, pouncing on Alden as he came through the door. “None of it makes any sense.”

  “I have the men, at least,” Alden said as he stared off into the distance.

  “My plan was fool proof; there should have been no need for them.”

  “I know. It was a good plan.” Alden said quietly. “You are coming with me, aren’t you? I can’t do this without you.”

  Merton was still frowning. “Why would you ask me that? Where else would I be but at your side?”

  “Thank you.”

  Merton brushed off the gratitude. “Cerniw is my kingdom too,” he stated.

  “I know. I am going to go and find Bastian. Maybe he knows what is going on. Are you coming?”

  Merton shook his head. “No, I need to sort out my affairs.”

  “Josephine?” Alden guessed. Josephine had hardly kept her feelings towards Merton a secret. Alden had often thought it was a shame that Merton did not feel the same way.

  “No. She learnt last night she was to marry Marcus. She’ll never speak to me again.” Merton blinked the tears that shimmered in his eyes away; he had never meant to hurt her. “I’ll see you later.”

  Alden watched as Merton climbed the stairs slowly, as if he were an old man, and then he made his way down to the harbour. Bastian was there, overseeing the loading of the horses.

  When Bastian saw him he marched right up to Alden, grabbed him roughly by his tunic, and pushed him up against one of the small wooden houses that littered the dock.

  “Where was Annis last night?” Budic asked urgently.

  “She was with me.”

  “All night?”

  “She didn’t help him escape, if that is what you are thinking.”

  Bastian relaxed his grip. “No. It wasn’t a woman who released that murderer.”

  “Do you know who it was?”

  Bastian let go of Alden, stepped back and shook his head. “I was drugged. I don’t remember anything.”

  Dread took root in the bottom of Alden’s stomach and stayed there. This escape had been calculated, arranged by someone who was clever, as if they knew that Cerdic would be defeated. There was only one man who could do this.

  “Before John died he said we should leave and never come back,” Alden said. He watched Bastian’s reactions closely.

  “Why are you still here, then?” Bastian replied. He looked towards the road that led to the castle and then he looked back at Alden. “Don’t leave anything here you may want in the future.” With that parting advice Bastian walked away.

  Alden found Annis sitting by the fire in their chamber with some sewing in her hands.

  “We are going,” he informed her. “Change your clothes, dress warmly.”

  “Where are we going? What has happened?” Annis asked as she put her sewing aside and stood.

  “Cerdic and his men have escaped. Budic is letting me have the cavalry. They are getting ready to sail. We are going today.”

  “Escaped?” There was fear in her voice; he heard it and pulled her close.

  “Someone inside the castle must have helped him.”

  She pulled back to look at him. “Who?”

  There was a soft knock on the door.

  “I don’t know,” Alden said.

  “Annis, is Alden with you?”

  “Merton.” Alden cursed and let go of his wife, striding across the room, and throwing the door open. Merton entered, shutting the door behind him.

  “This was left on my bed. There is no signature.” He handed the letter to Alden. There was a single sentence on the parchment. Alden studied it for a long moment and then he dropped the letter and stepped back, as if the parchment were poison.

  “Did you read it?” Alden asked. Annis could only just make out the words her husband spoke.

  “Yes.” Merton replied.

  “What does it say?” Annis asked. “Alden?” She touched her husband’s arm when he did not respond.

  “Don’t come back.” He looked at Merton. “That is our father’s handwriting.”

  “I know. I don’t want to say it, because I don’t want to believe it, but Budic is the only one who could have released Cerdic, or at least arranged for him to be released. But I don’t understand why he would want that. Father must have known he would…”

  Alden shook his head. “He is giving me his men. Someone is trying to scare us. Dead men cannot write letters.”

  “Unless they can foresee the future. Remember, Garren was named heir,” Merton said softly.

  “We need to do as that letter says and get the hell out of here. Annis, pack,” Alden said.

  “You are taking her with us?” Merton asked, surprised.

  “I am not leaving her here,” Alden answered. “If it is n
ot safe enough for us, it is certainly not safe enough for her.”

  “We are going to war, Alden.”

  “I know where we are going. She is still safer with me.” He looked about the room, his eyes finally resting on Merton. “I won’t be coming back, whatever the outcome.”

  Merton simply stared at him; for once he had nothing to say.

  “With you by my side, and with Budic’s knights, we will win and we will rebuild,” Alden stated.

  “We will,” Merton agreed, although he didn’t sound convinced because where on earth was the money going to come from for such an adventure?

  Alden held out his hand for Annis to take. “It will be dangerous. Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

  “As long as you keep Merton away from me, I am sure I will be fine.” She didn’t know what possessed her to say such a thing, but it did make Alden’s lips twitch upwards into a smile. She heard Merton mutter a protest and she threw him a teasing look. He stuck his tongue back out at her and she giggled, despite the seriousness of the situation.

  “You asked me once if I could teach you Cerniw,” Alden continued seriously.

  “My a’th kar,” Annis answered.

  “What?” Alden asked, astonished, everything temporarily forgotten, for Annis had just spoken in his language.

  “I may have asked Merton to teach me,” Annis said, blushing slightly.

  Merton found himself smiling, the worry lifting from his eyes momentarily. “I taught her all the useful phrases,” he said proudly, as he slowly backed out the room. “My boat is full of eels. My fish is bigger than yours. Your mother was a goat.”

  Alden touched Annis’s cheeks reverently with the backs of his hands. “Close the door on the way out, Merton,” he said, not looking at his brother, his eyes never leaving his wife’s face. “We will meet you at the docks.”

  “Now children, there is no time for any of that,” Merton teased. “Annis, pack.” He mimicked Alden’s voice.

  “Merton, get out,” Alden commanded.

  Merton chuckled. He bent and picked up the letter and the humour left his face. It was his father’s writing.