 
The Final Reckoning

By

Mac Zazski

Smashwords Edition

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Copyright 2018 Mac Zazski

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The Final Reckoning is the Fifth Sequel in the "Royal Consort" series

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Discover other titles by Mac Zazski at Smashwords.com

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This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

Chapter 1

The formidable oaken doors of the King's Council Chamber stood closed and barred, two enormous guards standing just beyond them in the hall of the great castle at Wharton. Inside the chamber, a small, select group sat, gathered at something between a hearing and a trial.

On a raise platform, King Alex and Queen Marie of Zambelia sat side by side, holding hands as was their custom, listening intently to the discussions that were being presented to them. Alex looked large and muscular, his face placid, his light eyes intently following the proceedings. Beside him, his slender wife, Marie appeared slightly anxious, her beautiful face looking slightly pale. Her auburn hair, arranged in a braid down her back was dusted at the temples with a touch of gray, the same color that now speckled her husband's beard, a subtle salute to the passage of time.

Beside the King and Queen, a stocky, elderly man sat, his bald head reflecting the torches that lit the room. He had a thick white beard and dark, lively eyes and looked completely out of place seated beside the King and Queen. Named the Glorious One by those who practiced the craft, he was the chief wizard of all of those who held the ability to practice magic. It was to his judgement, more than to the King and Queen's, that those present were applying themselves.

Seated opposite them were two young men of whom they were all very fond, Joseph, son of Prince Ernest, the King's younger twin brother and Jacob, son of Lord Parker and the late Lady Gertrude. Jacob, two years older, was already growing into a handsome, strapping young man, his dark hair and eyes always displaying a slightly mournful expression. Seated beside him, Joseph fought hard not to display the same mischievous smile for which his father was famous, realizing it would make an odd addition in such a proper setting but cursed with smiling whenever he was nervous.

Seated on either side of the boys were Joseph's parents, Princess Donna and Prince Ernest. Donna was still a beautiful woman with raven black hair, dressed in a gray gown, her expression somber. At the other end of the table, Prince Ernest sat as he always seemed to sit, appearing to not have a care in the world, utterly happy and content to be exactly where he was no matter where that might be or what he might be doing.

Between the two groups stood three older women, sorceresses who had helped to raise Joseph in the art of magic. Anna, Celeste and Daphne stood primly before the boys at the table, their expressions firm and serious. As usual, Daphne assumed the position of spokesperson for the group.

"We are here to discuss a serious breach of ethics committed by his highness, Prince Joseph of Zambelia, in the instruction of Lord Jacob in the craft," stated Daphne. Turning back towards the elderly man who sat beside the royal couple, she continued. "I submit that Prince Joseph knowingly attempted to mislead his superiors in the craft as to the ability of Lord Jacob and in so doing, caused harm not only to himself and Lord Jacob, but to every creature."

The Glorious One held up a hand and then, turning to the King and Queen, offered a word of explanation, "In the craft, your majesties, every action is seen as either beneficial or detrimental to all creatures. In saying this, Daphne is following our understanding of the totality of all things and following our prescribed formulas. I hope that it does not seem unduly harsh."

Alex and Marie nodded their understanding and the Glorious One signaled Daphne to continue.

"I submit that a punishment prescribed by you, Glorious One, is in order to right the imbalance that has occurred due to Prince Joseph's actions."

With a slight bow, Daphne and the other two, shuffled off to the side, leaving the two sides facing one another across the open space of the chamber.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense?" asked the Glorious One.

After a moment, Prince Joseph stood and clearing his throat, spoke.

"Glorious One, your Majesties, I submit that what I did was wrong," began Joseph, "but there were extenuating circumstances. When we first discovered that Jacob had the gift, we feared that he would be punished for possessing something that he should not possess. I do not say that what I did was correct, but certainly the desire to protect a friend from punishment for a fault that he did not cause might be considered in your deliberations. Beyond that, Glorious One, I offer no defense; I did what I should not have done and I respectfully submit myself to your decision."

The Glorious One sat for a moment as if considering the Prince's words. Finally, he looked up at the boys again and motioned to Jacob.

"Have you nothing to say, Lord Jacob?"

Jacob rose and spoke quietly, "Glorious One, I should be punished, not Joseph. He merely acted as my friend and at my request. I still have no idea of why I possess abilities that I should not possess and all that I request of you is to take these powers from me. I have no desire to possess them, they have caused nothing but trouble for me and those I care about, they are the reason that we are here today and I see no point in possessing anything that would cause everyone problems. As you know," Jacob's voice became even more pained, "I have recently lost my Grandfather, the Count Bartran. He was a great man and a great diplomat and perhaps he would have known what to say or how to understand this, but I never confided this, even to him. I was ashamed I suppose, ashamed to have lied to him and ashamed to possess something I had no right too. I..." Jacob stood for a moment searching for words that would not come and then sat down again and placed his hands over his face.

Marie moved as if to rise, but Alex gently squeezed her hand and she eased back into her chair.

The Glorious One leaned back in his chair, pondering all he had heard. Finally, he looked up at Alex and Marie and stated softly, "With you leave, your highnesses..."

Marie looked to Alex anxiously and Alex nodded, saying nothing.

The Glorious One rose, "Prince Joseph, you have acted poorly, not by helping a friend, but by not trusting that your superiors would wish for the best outcome possible. The reason we submit to teachers is that we trust them to be honest and to know more than we do; that they are there to help us to understand and to learn. Your failure was not in trying to help a friend, but by believing that you and you alone could do so. Therefore, I will strip you of your powers for six months. You will also submit to daily teachings with your three guardians, hopefully to obtain a greater understanding of your responsibilities."

Joseph rose and bowed, "As you wish, Glorious One. I only wish to make amends for my mistakes and I submit to your judgement without complaint."

The Glorious One squinted, frowning slightly as he confronted Jacob.

"Lord Jacob, I understand that you appear before this council under a burden of grief. I am sorry for the loss of your grandfather, he was a special man, a good man. Still, I must punish you for your actions and your failures, not out of anger, but in hopes that you also will learn your responsibility to others. Therefore, I sentence you to leave the King's service for six months and to go and live with your parents until the end of that time."

Alex stood quickly, "Glorious One, I must protest..."

"I understand, sire," stated the Glorious One. "I am afraid that I am the only one who truly does at the moment. You assured me that you would abide by my decision when we spoke earlier..."

"But banishment," stated Marie as she stood in front of Alex. "Might he be banished to someplace else... there are other estates that Alex and I could send him too. Glorious One...his father..."

"Lord Jacob has caused an imbalance," stated the Glorious One thoughtfully. "He needs to go where he can create balance once more..."

"Please, Glorious One," began Jacob. "Please do not send me back to my Father and that woman..."

"You said that you would obey," stated the Glorious One. "I count upon you to be as good as your word."

Jacob struggled to remain composed. He loathed his father, Lord Parker, and hated his step-mother, Lady Susan. Wharton was his home, it was the only place left where anyone loved him, but he had given his word.

"Very well, Glorious One," stated Jacob softly. "I will submit."

The Glorious One moved to speak but then stopped himself. Finally, he looked at the King and Queen, "I am sorry, your majesties, but..." With a shrug, he descended from the platform and made his way to the door. Waving his hand over the bar that locked it, he watched as it slid back and the door opened. The die was cast, he thought, it is up to them now...

***

Pauline awoke, her eyes blinking slowly, her mind hazy and her thoughts unfocused. As she forced her eyes to remain open, she slowly took in her surroundings and gasped. For a moment, she had no idea of where she was or how she had gotten here. She was just about to bound from the bed when she felt something tighten around her waist and a warm breath dance about her ear just before a soft voice spoke lovingly into her ear.

"Good morning, my love..."

Pauline blinked and then smiled, feeling a bit silly as her fear dissipated. Twisting her body to face opposite of the way she had been laying, she looked into her husband's eyes and saw the happy, sleepy glow that shown from them.

"Good morning, Jonathan," she whispered, kissing him softly and tenderly and placing her arms around him.

"Did you forget where you were?" he asked with a knowing smile.

She looked down bashfully, "How did you know?"

"I felt you awaken and then you gave a little jump as if you were going to fly from the bed," he said softly. "You have not done that in some time, my love..."

"I do not know why I did," she replied sheepishly. "I supposed I still cannot believe that I am a married woman."

"And I cannot believe how lucky I am to be a married man," he stated softly, pulling her closer. "I look forward to spending our lives together here at Angelrod, our own home and in our own bed."

"Our home and our bed," she murmured softly after him, looking down bashfully and smiling. "I suppose it sounds silly, I know it has been some time now, but I still cannot believe that we are married."

"I cannot believe that you agreed to marry me," he stated. "When I saw Annalisse making her way down the aisle last month to marry Anthony, all I could think of was the joy I felt last year when you walked down the aisle to become my bride. I remembered how I kept thinking that you would come to your senses before you made it all the way down and then turn, screaming and running out of the Church..."

Pauline giggled, "Oh yes, it was a terribly difficult decision to make. Run out of the Church or walk down the aisle and marry the kindest, smartest, handsomest and most loving man in the world..."

He leaned forward and kissed her gently, his hand stroking her face lightly as he pulled back slightly to look at her.

"I am the one who married an angel," he stated, "I am just happy she would have me and be mine."

"I will always be yours," she replied, reaching up and touching his face

Jonathan worked his arms around her gently, pulling her tightly against him as he kissed her passionately. Slowly his one hand worked its way down to the base of her night dress and gingerly began to work it upwards. He always felt as if he were unwrapping the most wonderous gift when he undressed her.

When he had gotten her dress bunched up around her waist, he stopped and propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at her as she blushed and turned her head. She was always so bashful when they made love. Drawing himself to his knees, he pulled her nightshirt over her head and looked down at her nude form. He smiled as her entire body seemed to turn a bright pink. Tentatively, she reached out her hand and gave his night shirt a gentle upward tug.

Jonathan could not contain a slight laugh as he pulled the shirt up and over his head and then, flinging it away, pulled the blanket up around them, wrapping them in a warm cocoon. Kissing her gently, he worked his way down to her neck to and then to her breasts. He heard his beloved sigh as he kissed and gently kneaded her breasts delighting in the way that she responded to his touch. Pauline's body seemed to react immediately to any action he took and Jonathan marveled at her sensitivity and at the pleasure she seemed to derive from his attention.

She murmured loving words to him as she positioned himself over her, working his way back up to her neck and then to her lips. He relished the feel of her skin against his own, the way her legs rubbed against his as he moved upwards, exciting him and urging him to continue.

He felt her arms entwine themselves about his neck, felt the heat of her passion as their lips seared together. Gently he reached between them, positioning himself between her legs. He found her ready for him and gently entered her, delighting in the sigh that escaped her lips as they joined. Slowly he began to rock himself more deeply into her, his desire growing as he felt her pull her legs upwards, massaging his sides with her thighs and then her calves. As he increased his motion, he felt his love pulling him closer, wrapping herself more tightly around him.

They broke their kiss, their mouths near each other's ears, the sound of the other's gasping breaths driving each to greater exertion. Finally, Jonathan could contain himself no longer and with a soft moan filled her. With a gasp, she joined him, closing her eyes to the glorious light that seemed to fill her, her body wrapped tightly around him, her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, they eased from one another, Jonathan dropping down lightly on his side as Pauline cuddled against his chest, her face pink from her exertions.

He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and murmured sweet declarations of his love as she burrowed into his chest, kissing it and telling him of the love she held for him and only him. Unable to contain himself, Jonathan eased her back onto the bed and smiled as he positioned himself above her once again. She stared up at him, her eyes filled with passion. It did not matter where they slept, as long as she awoke next to him...

***

Leaning back, Mullins caught himself perilously close to falling off of the log he was sitting upon. Jerking forward, he swore beneath his breath and then took another deep draught of the bottle in his hand. He did not allow himself to drink often, it was not part of his new lifestyle, but on this one day he did. Every year on the anniversary of his marriage he got drunk; hopelessly, unutterably, stinking drunk. His comrades never question it for they had all been made fools of, each knowing the pain of betrayal that Mullins felt. Each one had been married to a beautiful woman, each introduced to her by the Lord Parker or his lackeys, each had been blissfully happy, had felt like the luckiest man in the world and each had been the father to a son; a blonde son, a strapping baby boy who was no more a product of their exertions than the sea or the sky.

All of them had sworn eternal hatred for and revenge upon Lord Parker. Each man had given an oath that if all of the others died, he would still find a way to kill Lord Parker, to make him pay for the misery and pain that he had caused them by making each of them a cuckold. Each man looked at Mullins as he weaved back and forth on the log. Some did the same thing, lost themselves in drink, some never spoke of it and some would leave the camp and weep, each man handling it differently for himself. Despite the differences, they also acted together as one man in many ways. Each one was an experienced killer, each had an almost insatiable appetite for violence and each man had spent the last few years training, learning the tricks of the cutthroat and the thief. Each one had become a remorseless killer and each one lived for revenge.

They watched Mullins silently as they ate their dinners, drinking beer and suggesting that Mullins eat. Mullins merely continued to gulp from his bottle and sneer at the collection of men around him. He was squat and strong and with his thick hands, he grasped the bottle and downed the liquid inside, feeling the harsh burn as it coursed its way towards his innards. Sheri had been beautiful, a dream, his entire life until he had caught her being unfaithful, servicing the Lord Parker in the home he had built for her. He took another draught of the liquid, thinking of how he had poisoned her, killing her and the unborn devil that Lord Parker had planted within her. He had spent these last three years planning and plotting his revenge and now, he would have it. He would kill Lord Parker just as he had killed his wife.

He had left his home after her death and wandered out into the countryside. At first no self-respecting thief would be seen with him, but he soon learned the tricks of his new trade, learning how to be stealthy and patient and vicious.

He had found others, who, like him, had been made fools of by Lord Parker; men who had married his mistresses and raised his children, men who had no idea that their families and villages were laughing at their stupidity. He could not count the times he had had to tell another man that he was a fool. Most had sworn vengeance immediately, some had gone off on murderous rampages, killing their wives and children, as Mullins had, but then killing themselves. Stupid fellows, chuckled Mullins to himself as he took another gulp, you don't kill yourself, you kill the other fellow, that is the road to revenge!

He looked at them men gathered about on the logs about the fire. He had endeared himself to these fellows by being capable of enormous, spontaneous violence. He could and had killed men without a thought or a quiver. He took another mouthful of the liquor and growled in his darkening mind; he could thank Sheri for that, for making him a killer. Nothing mattered to him anymore, nothing but hatred and revenge. The rest of the world was garbage, mankind was filth, only revenge and hate mattered and he carried an unlimited supply of both in his heart.

"Ain't you gonna share, Mullins?" drawled one of the men seated beside him at the fire, a stupid grin on his face at his own limited display of wit.

Mullins stared at the man, a harden criminal, with such hatred, it made the man turn away. He had shared, had shared his woman with a conniving nobleman; he would never share again.

"I've shared enough," he growled and spat on the ground. "The next thing I'll share is my sword with that devil's throat!"

The men seated beside the fire stared into the flames, feeling the heat burning more intensely within them than any fire that could be built before them. Slowly, they began to depart, each rising to be alone with his thoughts, finally leaving Mullins alone. There was no sense in speaking about what had to be done, it had to be done and it had to be done quickly, thought each man. To them it did not matter how it was done or which one of them was the person to deliver the fatal blow; they needed someone dead and that was all that mattered. No small voice cried out to their minds to stay their hand or to attempt to show mercy, not only to Lord Parker, but to anyone they robbed or stole from; while they brought with them many things, none of them cared to carry a conscience. In fact, they had all given up caring about anything a long time ago.
Chapter 2

Lord Parker's southern-most estate stretched out on a massive piece of land that ended at a sheer cliff above the sea. A gift from Alex and Marie to Parker and his first wife, Gertrude, the young couple had planned to make it their summer escape but had never made the journey to visit it prior to Gertrude's death. Parker had never seen it until after he had married Susan. Susan had a special fondness for the house since it contained no remnants of Parker's life with Gertrude and she had spent lavishly to make the place her own.

Parker had gradually grown to like the estate for different reasons. The most prominent one began at a scenic path that wound along the cliffs, a small path that one could not detect unless one knew where to look for it. The path descended through trees and bushes, offering glimpses of the great, sheer plunge into the ocean that a misstep would cause an unfortunate victim. At the end of the path, a slight outcropping provided a porch to a large cave that made its way deeply into the rock of the cliff.

Through stealth and imagination, Parker had furnished the cave, making it a plush and comfortable place that hid in its depths an enormous and often used bed. He had taken more than one of his conquests on a scenic walk about his estate in search of the privacy he needed to relieve his lust. More often than not, he had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams whenever he had brought his conquests to this location.

Parker's love life, or more accurately, lust life, had grown to astronomical proportions. At one point it had been the cause of him flirting with financial ruin. His raging libido had placed him in the position of needing to support multiple mistresses and bastard children, threatening him with both financial disaster and the ruin of his reputation. It was because of his pressing need for money that he initially had become a traitor, selling information to the King of Darma for money to keep his hidden life secret. The King of Darma had promised him the throne of Zambelia if he would lead a revolt against King Alex at the same time that King Tidon of Darma attacked Zambelia.

Parker's desperate situation had changed almost overnight due to a brilliant suggestion by his favorite mistress, his wine servant. Eva. Now that bankruptcy and ruin had been avoided and he no longer needing any financial assistance, Parker found himself seeking a way to betray the King of Darma. He had no wish to be beholden to anyone for the throne, having convinced himself long ago that it was his due and his due alone.

He thought back to that memorable evening; Eva had asked him why he never seduced noblewomen? He remembered responding that he did not want any more trouble than he was currently facing, but Eva had patiently explained to him that if he bedded noblewomen instead of serving girls, he would be the one with the upper hand. After seducing them, she stated, he could threaten to reveal the affair and then blackmail them for money. The idea had struck his desperate mind like a bolt of lightning and he immediately began seducing noblewomen, finding them no more difficult to seduce than the lower-class women he had been bedding and who were ruining him financially. Now he used the blackmail he collected to pay for the blackmail that he endured.

He smiled; he had long ago lost count of the number of women he had been with or the number of bastard children he had fathered. All of his children were boys who looked exactly like Parker, a situation that Susan had created in order to drive him further down the path of disaster. The money he received from scandalized noblewomen not only paid for all of the demands upon his purse but had even allowed him to create a comfortable reserve of funds that he thought no one else knew about, a foolish idea given the two principal women in his life.

The first, his wife Susan, was a sorceress, unschooled in the craft, but powerful. Parker knew nothing about Susan's powers or her ultimate plans, his ego deluding him that she truly wanted the throne for him instead of herself. In addition to her magical powers and stunning beauty she also possessed a twisted mind, filled with a desire for power and unimpeded by a conscience. Nothing mattered to her but what she desired and what she desired most was to become the Queen.

The second woman in Parker's life, his favorite mistress Eva, differed little from the first. While she possessed no magic, she too was incredibly beautiful and she used her body and wicked mind to bend men to her will. Like Susan, she too desired to be Queen and both women had decided that their way to the throne was to make certain that Parker would become King. Little did he realize that neither woman saw the need for him to remain at his post once they had been crowned.

As Parker lay thinking of his latest conquest, Eva lay beside him with her own thoughts. He smiled down at her and she replied with a sultry stare. Parker associated Eva with his life's resurgence, with the removal of the threat of bankruptcy and ruin and it allowed her tremendous influence upon him. So self-centered had be become that he did not recognize that Eva was every bit as cunning and evil as his wife and the only difference between their visions of the future was that Susan saw herself as the future queen with all of Parker's mistress' dead, while Eva saw herself as the future queen with Susan dead.

Eva had been waiting for him when he had returned from attending the Princess Annalisse' wedding. Her beautiful body was oiled, her dark hair perfumed, her gorgeous face expertly made up. Eva knew every way to pleasure a man and today had used more than a few of Parker's favorites to welcome him home.

Laying back on his bed, his favorite mistress at his side, Parker was in a sleepy, post-coital state. He smiled as he eased back against the pillows and watched the flickering of the lamps overhead, Eva snuggling into him, her perfume intoxicating him.

"How was the wedding, my love?" she asked softly, nibbling his ear.

"Boring," replied Parker in a lazy voice, "it would have been a complete waste of time had it not been for the Princess Annalisse."

"Really, what did she do?" asked Eva softly.

Parker laughed, "Do? She did nothing...well, not nothing, she waved a good deal..."

He laughed again as Eva looked at him, not comprehending. Parker always spoke of his conquests and desires to Eva, seeing in her a kindred spirit who wanted nothing more than to please him. He was completely blind to how his actions might benefit his mistress or to what depths she was capable of to secure what she desired.

"She was the bride and a more beautiful bride you have never seen," he stated.

"You lusted after the bride?" Now it was Eva's turn to laugh.

"Every man there did," replied Parker. "She has grown into quite the beauty..."

Eva smiled, "I'm surprise you did not steal her away from her new husband." Placing her chin on his chest, she continued, "Could you imagine the money you would make if you seduced a princess?"

"She would be the only one of the royal princesses that I'd seduce," sniffed Parker haughtily. "Every time I see the scrawny crow that her brother married, I become more confused. Women throw themselves at his feet and he marries that nothing..."

Eva squinted in thought, "Why don't you seduce the princess?"

Parker looked at her and laughed, "Yes, my love, I'll seduce the princess at her wedding in front of all of the guests and..."

"No, no," replied Eva, sitting up and looking down at him, her mind a whirl with mischief. "Not just seduce her..." her eyes glowed with a wickedness that surprised even Parker. "Marry her!"

Parker frowned, certain that she had lost her mind, "Marry her? Did you not just hear me say that I went to her wedding? She IS married, Eva!"

"She is married NOW," replied Eva. Lowering herself, she climbed his chest, speaking excitedly, "Don't you see, this whole plan, your plan to kill the King and his family and stage a rebellion and being involved with the Darmanians, you could do it all so much more easily, so much more simply."

Parker squinted, trying mightily to follow her train of thought, "I don't understand..."

"What if you married the Princess Annalisse," laughed Eva, everything becoming crystal clear in her mind. "You would be a member of the royal family, don't you see. You would be in line to be King without any of the drama of a revolt."

"I don't understand..."

"Oh listen," hissed Eva. "You kill her husband, you were going to kill him anyway, but you don't kill her, you comfort her. You become her rock in her time of misery and then you marry her. Once you're married, you kill off her family and assume the throne as the rightful king!"

Parker thought of the idea of bedding Annalisse and his lust grew.

"What of Susan..." he began.

"Leave that to me," smiled Eva. "I can see to it that she becomes ill and never recovers. She'll die at that the same time that the Princess' husband has an "accident". In your grief and in hers, you and the princess will fall into each other's arms. A whirlwind romance, a quick marriage and then suddenly the entire royal family dies, all except the new Prince Parker and his beloved bride, who will become King and Queen. Once you tire of her, as you know you will, she too can have an accident and then, my love, we will rule!"

Parker looked up at her stunned.

"I would be beholden to no one," he whispered. "The Darmanians would have no claim on me, these fools who come and prattle and argue and eat at my expense, I would never have to bother about them ever again. I would be King by undeniable RIGHT!"

Reaching up, Parker pulled her to him as she squealed with delight.

"I will be King, no Susan, no rebellion, just power, MY power!"

Eva felt him growing more excited as she kissed his neck, her hands manipulating him as she spoke.

"Yes, my love, YOUR power," she purred. With a wicked smile, she kissed him; yes, his power, until she took it all away from him...

***

The Lady Susan, Parker's wife, sat on the massive patio of their estate surrounded by her guests, reveling in the adulation that her co-conspirators lavished upon her. These were people who believed that she should be Queen and that soon, a revolt led by Susan and Parker would make that desire a reality. As she mingled amongst the group of traitors, confident in their absolute obedience to her, assured of it both by their greed and her magic, Susan felt secure and certain. They would give their fortunes and their very lives when the time came and the time would come soon. She was about to propose a game when she felt that odd feeling she had felt several times over the last few months. Quickly excusing herself, she was just able to make it to her drawing room and lock the door when the trance overtook her.

The room fell away from her and she is outside, the sun uncomfortably bright and people are flying about, some running towards, others away from her. The chaos is violent and confusing, people screaming, yelling, all of them launching themselves in a hundred different directions. She is uncertain, is it she herself or another who raises their hand? A blow is struck and men go flying in every direction, their bodies shattered, behind them the houses splintering from the impact. Turning she sees a man, she is unsure of who he is, but he seems to be coming at her. She is uncertain, is it her or is she just seeing things from another's perspective? The way she views the happenings is infuriating, now from this angle, now from another.

Glancing down she sees it is not her body, but the body of a massive creature, who does not use magic against the oncoming man, but instead strikes him with its hand. They engage in a physical battle and though he is strong, the creature is stronger, forcing him back, shattering his sword. The creature is about to kill him, about to bring it's fist down upon his chest when a flash of light suddenly surrounds the scene, blinding her. As the light clears, she sees the sky, the clouds floating overhead and then the vision is gone.

Susan slowly returned to the present, to the here and now and found herself staring up at the ceiling in her drawing room. Glancing about, she sees that she is laying upon the floor, her clothing twisted about her. She is breathing heavily; it had been a near thing, she did not even have time to reach a chair before the vision overtook her. Drawing herself up from the floor, she made her way to a chair and sat down. The visions had been coming more often as of late but having never been instructed in the craft, she has no way of learning what they mean.

She thought back to the day she had first met Parker and had begun her seduction. She had seen where he would be, had known it before it happened, but these visions were different. She was not looking for these things, indeed had no idea of what they pertained too. They were unclear and seemed to be fragmentary. Also, pieces of them seemed to change; the first time she had had the vision, there had been two men, but now, the last few times, there had been only one. There was always a bright light and there was always the sky and then nothing, just a fading of the vision, what did it mean?

She thought back, trying to determine why the vision would change. Did the visions have to do with her plans? She was unsure if they had anything even to do with her, but if they did not, why would she see them? Perhaps it was because her power was growing, her abilities becoming greater.

She began to doubt that the visions had anything to do with her plans. Everything continued to go as scheduled, her manipulation of Parker, her courting of discontents, everything, even his seduction and manipulation by Eva, all was as he had planned it. Did the vision mean she should change her plan? Was it a warning of some soft? Thinking back to the arms of the creature she saw, she shook her head, it could not be her, how could it be her? Was she even present during this vision? Was she seeing things from her own point of view or from the point of view of another? Was the vision suggesting that she create a creature to do her bidding?

Going over recent events, she sought something, anything, that would explain why she had started having these visions. The only significant thing that had changed, the only part of her plan that had been reimagined was the killing of the Prince's bride, Princess Pauline. Did that have anything to do with the visions?

She thought of Pauline and smiled, how ridiculous she was and yet, how bold. She had always wondered why her magic did not work at Wharton, who could it be protecting the royal family and then it suddenly became completely obvious. Lady Pauline must be a powerful sorceress, it was the only explanation that fit all of the facts. She had been protecting the royal family until she was of age and then she used her magic to make the Prince marry her. It was all so clear now.

Thinking of scrawny, plain Pauline, she laughed. She must be powerful indeed, to be so bold as to maintain that outward appearance and actually marry the Prince. Susan herself was an abnormally beautiful woman and yet she still enhanced her appearance with magic, who would not? She thought of Jonathan and her smile took on a lustier tone, yes, he was handsome. Of all of the royals she planned to kill, his death would be the greatest loss. Perhaps she could arrange to seduce him before he died, he was so handsome and he apparently had no idea that he was being manipulated by the stick figure he called his wife.

Yes, when the announcement had been made of the engagement, a light had sparkled brightly in Susan's mind. It was the only possible explanation. Pauline was the protector of the royal family and it was then that she had decided to kill Pauline. It was also just after she had made that decision that the first vision had to come to her. Yes, that's was it! She had decided to kill Pauline and had arranged her plan and now she was seeing this vision! There had to be a connection, but what?

Now the disconnect from her point of view in the vision became more understandable. Of course, it was not a vision of her that she was seeing, it was a vision of Pauline from Pauline's perspective! Pauline would be threatened and become that creature to protect herself and a man would ride in and...and what? Did the man kill her? Did she kill the man? It was unclear, the vision never telling her if the creature lived or died. Perhaps the flash of light was from Susan's hand, perhaps she killed Pauline, as the creature, while she was trying to kill the man. Was the man Parker? She could never see his face, but obviously he knew how to fight. Was that it? Parker attacked Pauline, Pauline tried to kill him and while she was distracted, Susan killed Pauline?

She began to review the vision and it began making sense. Men were running both towards and away from the creature. If Pauline could protect the royal family, she must also be powerful enough to create such a creature. Finally, the last person she had to overcome, the person who would fight the hardest to conquer her, Parker, had fought her and was about to lose when Susan stepped in and saved him.

For a moment, she wavered. Her plan to kill Pauline had been simple; she had sent her most trusted servant, a person she controlled completely, to go and work for Pauline and Jonathan at Angelrod. She had never been able to work magic at Wharton, but she had never had anyone who would do her bidding as her servant Ellen would do Ellen was completely under her control, even at Wharton she had not questioned Susan's dominance. It would make sense for Pauline to protect Wharton, but she felt she would be less cautious in her own home. Yes, Pauline would feel secure there and she was certain that she would take fewer precautions at Angelrod.

So far, her idea had proven correct; Ellen had been accepted as a member of the staff and had even risen to become one of Pauline's personal maids. Yes, Pauline had become arrogant, had taken no precautions against magic at Angelrod as she had at Wharton because she thought she already had her prize. She thought she was safe in her own home, the fool. She would learn too late that there was no safety from Susan or her desire to become Queen. But if Ellen was successful, if Ellen succeeded in killing Pauline, why was she having these visions? Was it a warning that Ellen would fail, or was it something that would take place prior to Ellen even trying to kill her mistress?

"Visions are not absolute," she muttered. She had had other visions that had not come true due to her own planning and actions and so it might be with this one. "Ellen must do the deed soon," she smiled. "We will not wait until the time of the revolt, she will kill her now and avoid the chance that others might learn of my powers out in the open as it happens in the vision."

Rising triumphantly, she sauntered to the door and opened it, ready to rejoin her guests, pleased with her decision. The visions were warnings, messages to her regarding Pauline and her plans. She would heed the warnings. She was confident her plan would work now. She had sent her most trusted, most devoted ally under her most powerful spell to kill Pauline at a place where her magic would work.

As she returned to the party, the guests began paying her homage, hailing her as she reentered the garden. Gracing them with a dazzling smile, she thought of Baron Fiskar; his arrival would mark the final preparation for the planned revolt. With the Baron in her pocket, she would be ready to launch the final phase of her plan. She would start the revolt before the King of Darma wanted it to happen, before even Parker was certain as to what was happening. The throne would be hers.

***

Ellen stood in her lady's bedroom and stared down at the vanity, puzzled by what she saw, or more accurately, did not see. Thinking back to her mistress' Lady Susan's vanity, it had been covered with all sorts of jars and bottles, perfumes, oils, creams and lotions. The Lady Pauline's dresser had a brush, hand mirror, one jar of scent and one jar of ointment. Glancing about, Ellen drew closer, certain she was alone and slid open the small draw at the center of the vanity.

She was surprised to see a small book, some parchment paper and some correspondence. Seating herself at the table, she gingerly picked up the small book and found it had a small red ribbon in it that acted as a bookmark. Opening the book to that page, she read it silently, realizing that it was a book of prayers. Cautiously, she lowered the book into the draw and slid it back into place.

Glancing up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. It had been so many years now, the lines had grown deeper, her eyes seemed to have sunk into her head, her once dark hair all gray and white. She stared, caught by the image, remembering being a young girl at the Count of Keneon's castle, working her way up to becoming his head housekeeper. The years before the war, the grand balls, the dances and intrigues and then the war with Zambelia and the return of her mistress, the little countess Susan. Shaking her head, she could not seem to reconcile the two periods to just one life. She had almost no memories as Susan as a child, just a sense, really, of being completely devoted to her and then, of being completely terrified of her.

She had retired, had been dismissed actually, by the Lady Susan soon after she had married Lord Parker. Somehow, though she was devoted to her mistress, she had felt unbelievable relief, it was as though she had escaped, had been freed. She and her husband had bought a small farm and had worked hard to make a go of it, but somehow, it had been heaven to be apart from her former mistress. Just as life had become its sweetest, Lady Susan reappeared in her life. She would send her on pointless errands while she used her home for God knew what, but Ellen could never say no to her, could never do anything but what she told her to do.

She remembered being summoned back into service, called upon by a messenger and then taken to the Lord Parker's estate. She had had a meeting with her former mistress and had suddenly found herself on her way to apply for a position with the new princess, Princess Pauline. How she came to hold a recommendation from Lord Chester, she had no idea; she did not remember ever meeting the Lord Chester, but there she was, his note in her hand, on her way to Angelrod. Now she was back to working, her husband, her small farm, her retired existence all but forgotten, her life wrapped around a new mission.

She looked into her hollow eyes and saw no light, no life there. She had come here barely able to contain her hatred of her new mistress. She would rid the world of this horrible young woman, the owner of the vanity at which she sat. It seemed somehow that she hated this young woman in the same manner that she had seen the Lady Susan grow up, it was nothing she could put her finger on, it was merely as sense.

Somehow, somewhere, she had been told she hated Pauline, had been told that she was a threat and had clung to the belief with her whole being, that was until now. Her hand drifted downwards and fumbled with her apron pocket, feeling the outline of the vial of poison that was concealed there. All she had to do was mix it in with the lotion or the scent and when Princess Pauline used it, she would die. She would never be a threat to anyone again. She stared at the meager assembly of items on the table and thought, why did she hesitate? Was it because it would be too obvious? She did not have enough creams and powders in order to disguise what had happened and this made Ellen nervous.

Perhaps stabbing her would be better, just raise a letter opener over her as she read and bring it down as hard as possible. She could do it, years of hard labor had made her surprisingly strong and the princess was not a large woman, was a little wisp of a thing really. In the two months she had been here, she had never heard her raise her voice, had never seen her been cruel or angry with anyone. Why did Ellen hate her so, she wondered, what had she done? She must have done something, but what was it?

Sitting at Pauline's vanity, something happened, what, she was not sure, but sitting there, she knew she would have trouble ever harming this girl, this plain, simple girl. Why did she hate her so? Ellen felt woozy and placed her fingertips to her head. What evil had she done? Why was she thinking of murdering anyone? She had never wanted to kill anyone before...

She jumped when the door opened and Pauline stepped into the room. Looking up from the book she was holding, Pauline gave a little start of surprise.

"Ellen, I did not know you were here," she stated pleasantly.

"I'm sorry, milady," began Ellen, rising from the table, trying to think of an excuse for her mistress to have seen her sitting.

"Sit, please," stated Pauline pleasantly. "I would like to ask you a favor..."

A favor? Anytime Pauline asked the staff for anything, she phrased it as a request. In all the time she had been here, Ellen had never heard the young woman issue an order or demand anything. It never seemed to bother any of the others, they all seemed entirely devoted to her, but should not a princess be more commanding? If anything, her quiet manner seemed to encourage the staff to dote on her, each one seemed so protective of her. She thought of Prince Jonathan, such a handsome man and he seemed so in love with this tiny creature...

"Anything, milady," replied Ellen softly. Why did she hate this young woman so?

"Would you mind taking a note I am writing to Lady Tara, next door?" asked Pauline, joining Ellen on the bench of her vanity, sitting beside her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Susan would have killed her rather than sit next to her... "I was hoping that I might request an audience with her tomorrow morning..."

Ellen blinked at her, unable to contain her surprise.

"Request an audience with a barmaid, milady? You are a princess, your royal highness, you don't have to request..."

Pauline turned pink with embarrassment, "I can't just invite myself to someone else's home, Ellen, it would be impolite. Please, would you mind taking the message to her for me?"

"Of course not, milady," replied Ellen, rising as she spoke. "I'll make sure she replies as well..."

"Ask her if she wishes to reply, please," stated Pauline. "She is our neighbor and I hope we will be friends..."

Turning to the vanity, Pauline pulled out a sheet of parchment that held some writing on it and gliding to a desk on the other side of the room, sat down to finish her note.

Ellen stared at her, it would be so simple, she wasn't even looking; take the fireplace poker and just strike her as she sits, just kill her. Another voice cried out in her mind however; but why? Why would she ever harm this simple girl? Why, she would not harm a fly and yet...

"Are you alright, Ellen?" asked Pauline, looking at her with concern.

"Fine, milady," replied Ellen, trying to contain the irrational fear that Pauline somehow knew the argument growing within her.

"You're shaking," stated Pauline, genuine concern in her voice. Crossing to Ellen, she led her back to the bench before her vanity and motioned for her to sit. Crossing to a cord beside her bed, Pauline gave it a vigorous yank and then returned to Ellen, "You're shivering, Ellen; are you ill? I will call the doctor..."

"I don't need the doctor, milady..."

"I insist, Ellen..."

"No, milady, no," stated Ellen, rising quickly, forcing her legs to support her though they felt like water. "I'm fine, milady, truly, I am..."

Pauline followed her, "Please, Ellen, you might think you are fine..."

"I swear that I'm fine," replied Ellen. Brightening, she forced a smile, "Why not give me your letter, milady, I'll take it to Lady Tara straight away."

Pauline looked at her uncertainly, "No...no. I will send a messenger, Ellen, thank you, but no. I want you to go to your room and lie down. Promise me you will do so."

"I promise, milady," stammered Ellen.

"I will send someone up to check on you shortly," stated Pauline. "I do not want you doing anything for the rest of the day. Please, go and lie down now..."

"Yes, milady," replied Ellen, grateful to be able to get away.

Without a further word, she slid out the door of the bedroom and took off quickly for the stairs leading up to her own room. Gaining the room, she slammed the door shut and locked it. Throwing herself on her bed, she began to weep uncontrollably. What was the matter with her?
Chapter 3

"We can't, Alex, we just can't," stated Marie desperately. "Think of our promise to Gertrude..."

Alex stood, his head bowed and after a moment, gave a soft sigh. The royal couple had retreated to the room behind the throne room, the family's private sanctuary. Alex knew that Marie would never agree to allow Jacob to go back to his father, but he felt compelled to do so. He had given his word of honor and he trusted that the Glorious One wanted what was best for Jacob.

"I am sorry my love," he began, "with all of my heart, I am sorry. We also promised the Glorious One..."

"We can't send Jacob back to Parker and that woman," replied Marie. "Especially now...The Count's death is still too fresh, he is barely able to get through the day..."

"My love," interrupted Alex, wrapping her in his arms. "I would give the world to do as you ask, but we cannot. We promised the Glorious One that we would abide by his ruling; what type of example to Jacob or any of the others would we be setting if we reneged upon our word."

"But our word to Gertrude..." mumbled Marie into his chest.

"Somehow, my love," he replied softly, "I think we are keeping our word to Gertrude by doing that which the Glorious One asks us to do. I cannot explain it, but somehow, I think Jacob needs to be there at this crucial junction."

"Why?" asked Marie, pulling away and searching her sleeve for a handkerchief to blot her tears. "What is the use? So that Jacob can see his Father arrested? So that he can be there and learn about all of the evil that his step-mother has done? What good will it do him, Alex? He will be alone, alone and unloved..."

"We have never stopped loving him, Marie," he replied patiently, "and we never will."

"It isn't his fault, Alex," she replied. "He did not ask for these powers. No one knows how he even obtained them..."

"I believe the Glorious One does, though he will not say," murmured Alex. Moving to a chair, he lowered himself down into it slowly. "I believe that it is part of the reason that he is sending Jacob home..."

Marie pondered his words, "You believe that it has something to do with Susan?"

Alex shrugged, "She is a sorceress, even if she is untrained. Did she somehow give him powers by accident? Is she aware that he has powers?" Alex shook his head, "I do not know, Marie and the Glorious One is giving us no answers, but I think these things are connected somehow. Perhaps it is a message from the Glorious One to Susan..."

"A message?" asked Marie, taking a chair opposite him and staring at him intently. "What type of message?"

For a moment, he squinted in thought and then replied, "Perhaps when Jacob returns home without his powers, Susan will realize that there is a possibility that the Glorious One and all of those schooled in the art have been on to her all along. Perhaps it will cause her to change paths, or maybe to disappear all-together..."

The idea had never occurred to Marie.

"You believe that he is using Jacob to send a message to Susan?" she questioned. "But why would Susan give Jacob powers, she cannot stand him, she barely tolerates his presence when he goes home. It makes no sense..."

"Unless it happened by accident," replied Alex, taking her hands into his own. "Imagine that she gave him the powers through some mistake and then found that she could not take them back. Then he returns home and suddenly, he has no powers. She has to notice it and she has to assume that the powers were taken from him and who could do that? Only someone as powerful as the Glorious One..."

Marie shook her head, "I don't believe that Alex, I'm sorry, I don't..."

"It is the only story that fits all of the pieces as far as I can see," replied Alex reasonably. "If it isn't true, what circumstance would fit this situation? I don't believe that the Glorious One hates Jacob and you heard the way he kept asking him if he would obey...There is more to it than we realize, my love and that is another reason that I will not interfere. We promised..."

Marie looked down at her hands dejectedly.

"You are right," she finally admitted, "but all I can feel is that I am betraying Jacob and Gertrude..."

Alex nodded, "I understand, my love, because I feel the same way..."

"Is there nothing we can do?" she begged.

Rising, he went to the table and poured them each a goblet of wine, returning to Marie and handing one to her. For a time, they sat together in silence.

"The Glorious One did not say that we cannot keep an eye on him," mused Alex suddenly. "I will ask Ernest to send someone to keep an eye on things, one of his people..."

Marie rose and crossed to him, kissing him and hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, my love," she whispered, "thank you with all my heart..."

***

Tidon, King of Darma was finished reviewing the ranks of his army. He was proud to see the determination he noted in the face of each man. Darma had lost a war to Zambelia earlier in his reign but had swallowed up three of its smaller neighbors since and Tidon was always looking to increase his territory. His warriors were northern men, used to harsh conditions and long marches on little food. They were formidable opponents for any army and Tidon was anxious to avenge his loss to Zambelia and the time to do so was almost upon them.

Dismounting, he made his way into the villa that stood just a few miles from the boarder with Gronolo. He would have Gronolo and Zambelia too. All of his actions were centered on revenging his loss and gaining a southern kingdom at the expense of his neighbors.

As he made his way down the corridor and into his meeting room, his thoughts turned to Parker, the revolutionary. He gave a gruff laugh that made his entourage uneasy. Tidon was not known for laughing, though most had seen him smile when he had someone tortured or executed. No one knew what the King was laughing at and no one wanted to question him, Tidon not being someone to questioned about anything he did. Parker was determined that he would be King of Zambelia and was planning a rebellion against his master to coincide with Tidon's invasion.

Tidon had no use for Parker and wanted only information of the Zambelian forces that Parker was supplying. What he did not seem to grasp was that Parker had long since fallen out of favor with King Alex and most of the court, leaving him to make up most of the information that he was supplying to Tidon as to the position of the Zambelian troops and their strength. Based upon Parker's information, Tidon was certain that he possessed the larger armies.

Grumbling to himself about the uselessness of traitors, Tidon thumped down into a seat at the head of the table in his study and peered about at his commanders and sycophants. He glanced at his chief advisor, the Duke of Rectra, a thin, nervous man who eyed his King with the look of a frightened animal. Tidon enjoyed having people fear him, it made his job easier.

"Soon, we will pay back the Duchy of Gronolo for their disrespect to our people," he announced in a harsh voice. "And once we have finished with them, we will crush their friends to the south."

Rectra cleared his throat and spoke softly, "Sire, the coordination of our plan will require that Lord Parker and his people be informed..."

"Shut up, Rectra," snarled the King. "Lord Parker will be informed, but not of when we are going to attack Gronolo. We will give him a date, a month or two in advance of our own actions. He will start his revolution early and be crushed for his troubles. This revolt will cause King Alex to pull troops from his northern borders to assist against the uprising and once he has crushed the rebellion THEN we will attack. With his forces weeks away from the border, we can destroy their armies piecemeal."

Rectra looked horrified, "But sire, we gave our word..."

"To a traitor, Rectra," snapped the King. "We do not reward traitors nor honor agreements with them. Parker will weaken his Lord and Master and die for the trouble and then we will come in and claim all of Zambelia as our own."

The commanders seated about the table looked at one another uneasily. Tidon was not normally considered the most trustworthy of men and they had all been certain that he was planning to remove Parker after the war, but this was a move none of them would have agreed to if they had the courage to disagree.

"Sire, if we do what you say, he will undoubtedly let it be known that you are expected to ride to his rescue..."

"And when we don't, King Alex will believe our ambassador's claims of complete ignorance of the entire enterprise," laughed the King. "Even if he does not, what will King Alex do? He is a weak man, he wants to believe the best of everyone." The King laughed again, a most unpleasant sound.

"But what if he succeeds, sire?" asked Rectra. "What if Parker succeeds in his revolution?"

"All the better," smiled Tidon. "With Zambelia in the throes of a civil war, she will be fair game for my troops. Let them bleed themselves dry, Rectra and then...then we will go forth and pick the spoils."

Rectra looked at the men seated about the table, not one man met his eye. Tidon had killed too many men for disagreeing with him for them not to know what he would do if one of them dared objected.

"Very well, sire..."

Tidon smiled, "Good Rectra, you're learning your place before I have to remove you from it. Now, we need to make certain that our armies are ready to march in three months' time..."

***

Mullins sat astride his horse, rocking slowly up the mountain path towards the hideout he had established near the Lord Parker's southern estate. His men followed slowly behind him, each one uneasy that they might be spotted by royal troops before they could find cover. Each man knew what would become of him if he were captured, but each was willing to risk it to kill Lord Parker.

The men knew Lord Parker's estate well, having visited it several times when he was at his main palace at Leverad to the north. It was a sprawling home, all on one level, overlooking a cliff by the sea. Unbeknownst to many, there was a cave on the face of one of the cliffs that faced out towards the ocean that Parker had decorated and where he held many of his trysts with his favorite mistress. It was there that he would be most vulnerable and the least defended and it was there that Mullins continually plotted to kill him.

The men had discussed numerous plans, multiple ideas and had endless discussions of how to capture, torture and kill Lord Parker, but none was quite as foolproof as they desired. It always ended with them agreeing that if they wanted to torture him, they would have to attack him where he was most vulnerable, in the cave, because they would never be able to get in and out with him alive if they attacked him anywhere else. Another option was if they attacked him during one of his sojourns into town. It was possible that they could capture him, but then they would have to waylay the ever-increasing guard that he travelled with; it was a difficult decision made all the more difficult by each man's deep hatred of Parker.

Passing a large rock, Mullins slowed to a halt and dismounted, the men behind him doing the same when they reached the same spot. Tying the horses to a small tree just off the path, the men continued on foot, carefully negotiating their footing as they made their way to a small cave deep in the belly of the hill. At this point, the men began to relax, no one could get to them here, they were safe from an ambush. Mullins had posted a guard further down the trail and it was all open country until this point, anyone foolish enough to come this way would die out in the open with no hope of finding cover.

As Mullins approached, a voice called out to him, "Who is it?"

Mullins frowned, "Stand down, Boy, it's me..."

A young boy with blonde hair stepped out of the cave, his face smeared with grime, his eyes bright and anxious.

"You made it back..."

"Of course, we made it back," spat Mullins. "Was there ever any doubt? Now go and get us some grub boy and be quick about it, it's been a long ride."

The boy disappeared back into the cave as Mullins sauntered in behind him, the others following at a distance. The group knew that the fair-haired boy was the one his wife had borne after they had married, was Parker's son, the spawn of the devil himself.

Mullins had believed the boy to be his own until he had discovered that he was being made a cuckold by the Lord Parker and that the boy was Parker's son, not his own. He had thought of killing the boy as he had killed his wife, but instead had sent the boy to live with his mother for a year as he trained to become an outlaw. Once he had established himself, he had taken the boy from his mother and made him part of the band, delighting in making him do all of the domestic chores and never addressing him by his name, always calling him Boy. He had given the child strict instructions that none should ever know that he was his father, an instruction that confused the boy, but which also carried with it the threat of a vicious beating should he ever reveal the secret. Of course, every man knew the Boy's identity, each delighting in abusing or neglecting him as the mood took them.

As the boy sought out food for the men, the group entered and took their places around the small fire that burned within the cave. Mullins sat heavily on the soft dirt floor and began to draw an outline of the Lord Parker's estate in the dirt using a stick from the fire.

"The cave he uses for his rendezvous is here," he stated, pointing towards an indentation he had made in the soil. "When he goes there, he is alone and when he leaves, he usually goes to this point with the girl before they part..."

"Mullins, we know all this," stated one of the men. "We've been over it a hundred times, we need to make a decision as to what we're going to do."

The other men grunted their agreement as Mullins stood and stared at them.

With a swift step towards the man, Mullins backhanded him hard across his face, sending him reeling onto his backside.

"You'll hear it a hundred more times!" he roared. "You'll know this bastard as well as I do when we're done and when you do, we'll kill him, do you understand?"

The men in the circle shrunk back, each muttering an affirmative response.

"He's not some dandy nobleman," spat Mullins. "He was the Queen's Champion, he knows how to fight! He won't be some easy mark! Now, let's start again..."

The men contained their annoyance at the renewal of the lecture. They would all be glad when the Lord Parker was dead.
Chapter 4

Lady Tara took a sip of her morning tea and looked out of the window of her kitchen into her back garden. Early spring had made each morning a new delight as she could see nature once again awakening, the buds growing upon the branches and the return of the birds. She would plant her garden soon, her beloved Brogdan at her side. She smiled at the thought of him working alongside her. He had renewed his request for her hand and she was giving it serious consideration.

Reaching up she touched her cheek, her fingertips tracing the lines of the scars upon her face. Tara had been raped by Robert of Vesek when she was a young woman. After he had abused her, he had taken his knife and slashed her face as punishment for her fighting against his violation. The trauma of the event had left her distrustful of people in general and men in particular, but Brogdan was different. He was kind and loving and patient and she loved him as much as she had ever loved anyone.

She looked about her home, a gift from the son of the man who had marred her face, the Prince Jonathan. Jonathan was nothing like his father, a man he, like Tara, despised. After his mother had married the King of Zambelia, he considered King Alex and King Alex alone his father and worked hard every day to be like that man whom he admired and loved. While Tara understood that the Prince was not like the animal whom had scarred her, his appearance was so similar to Robert's that she could not stand to look at him.

His appearance so upset her that she had made it a condition of accepting his help that she was never to see him. Despite her anger and harsh words, Jonathan had been nothing but generous and kind to her. He wrote to her several times a month, inquiring after her well-being and making certain that she wanted for nothing. Slowly Tara had begun to respond to his letters. At first her notes were terse, polite but short, but they had grown longer and had even included well wishes for him and his new bride when he had recently gotten married.

She remembered her Brogdan telling her all about the wedding. He spoke very highly of the new princess, though from the gossips in the village, she had heard that there was nothing special about her. For her part, Tara was somewhat nervous that Jonathan had finally found love. How would a wife take to their arrangement? Wives could interfere in arrangements made by a husband in his previous life and now she had received a request to meet with his wife and it had made her uneasy.

A sip of tea brought her back to the moment and she rose and gave the fire a few quick pokes with a piece of kindling before sending it to join the rest of the wood that had re-ignited at her activity. She would have helped her maid do washing today but now she was waiting instead, waiting to meet someone she had never met before and that she did not truly wish to meet now. A knock at the door cause her to groaned inwardly. She did not wish to greet her visitor and found her nervousness growing as she considered what it might be that the Princess had on her mind. Advancing to her front door, she opened it and peered out with a slight feeling of apprehension.

On her step stood a young woman with brown hair, dressed in a simple blue gown, her large hazel eyes looking up at Tara pleasantly. Tara did not recognize her and could not imagine who she might be. She had thinking about the meeting all night, her dread increasing with each moment and now, looking down at the plain looking young woman on her step made her hopeful. Perhaps the Princess was unable to keep the appointment and had sent her maid to try and reschedule the event.

"Lady Tara?" asked the woman in a soft voice.

"I am Tara," she replied, "and who are you?"

The woman glanced down shyly and then looked back up at Tara, "I am your new neighbor, Lady Tara, my name is Pauline. I had sent you a note..."

Tara took the information in but it seemed to make no sense. Pauline was the name of the Prince's new bride, but certainly the heir to the throne would not be married to this woman. The women all fell over the Prince, he was exceedingly handsome though Tara would never admit it. Besides his looks, he was wealthy and powerful, not a discouraging combination if one were looking for a mate. Jonathan would be the next King, all of the nobles who had daughters and all of the other kings who had daughters had vied to make their daughter his wife. This woman looked like an unobtrusive servant, a simple parlor maid. There were no other neighbors however, the Prince's estate Angelrod completely surrounding her home, so who could this be?

"You don't mean to say that you are the PRINCESS Pauline?" she asked with a slight frown.

Pauline blushed, "Yes, but please, just call me Pauline...I am not used to the idea...I am sorry, it is just that it sounds so odd to me still..."

"YOU are the Prince's wife?" asked Tara, glancing about to see if someone were playing a prank upon her but seeing no one lurking in the area.

Pauline looked at her and offered her an apologetic smile, "I know that I am not what people expect..."

Tara took a deep breath and regained her composure, "I am sorry, your highness, I mean, your royal highness...I...you..."

"I understand," interrupted Pauline with a slightly embarrassed air. "I understand...I am sorry for the intrusion, but I was hoping that you and I might speak...if you have a moment..."

"Of course, your highness," replied Tara, feeling bewildered by the entire episode. "Please, won't you come in?"

Pauline nodded as she followed Tara into her foyer and then into a small parlor just beyond the front door. The home was cozy without being cramped, the rooms light and clean, the furniture simple and solid. Taking the seat that Tara offered her, Pauline placed the small handbag she was carrying upon her lap and looked about the room.

"May I offer you some tea?" asked Tara, still not certain that this could be the Princess.

"Oh, please don't bother," replied Pauline. "You have a lovely home."

"Thank you, your highness," replied Tara, unsure of what to do.

Pauline sensed her uneasiness and rose from her place.

"Please, call me Pauline, not your highness and won't you please sit with me for a few minutes. I do not wish to disturb your day but I did want to meet you and to speak to you about something of some importance."

Tara took the chair opposite her as Pauline returned to her seat, feeling uneasy. The only thing of importance that she could wish to speak to her about was her arrangement with the Prince.

"Very well, Pauline, what is it that you wish to say?" she asked.

She tried to keep the defensiveness out of her tone but was not completely successful. If Pauline had come to try to change her arrangement with the Prince in anyway...

"I have heard much about you," began Pauline. "We met once before, though I doubt you remember me..."

"I am afraid I do not," replied Tara.

"I was at the camp with my husband's friends when Sir Edward brought you back to speak with him after your first encounter with him, in the pub," stated Pauline softly, looking away shyly.

Tara could not contain a smile. Jonathan had searched for her to try and make amends for what Robert had done to her, but upon finding her, she had lashed out at him, beating him to the ground with a serving tray. If Brogdan had not been there, she would have torn him to shreds.

"It was an interesting time," stated Tara unable to completely contain a sly grin.

"Jonathan still feels uneasy in pubs," giggled Pauline, a remark that caused Tara to laugh.

Tara relaxed slightly, "I remember two other women there..."

"My cousins, Lady Heather, whom you spoke to and Lady Ellen..."

"The haughty one," frowned Tara.

Pauline glanced up at her and nodded, "An apt description. I was there as well, but it is not important really. I am very glad to make your acquaintance now and I hope that you and I will be friends." She saw Tara give a start and spoke quickly, "Please understand that I do not mean to make myself a bother to you or expect anything from you...I understand your agreement with my husband and would never try in any way to modify it, I hope you do not have that impression..."

Tara relaxed slightly. She seemed like such a simple girl, a plain, simple girl, how did she marry someone like the prince, or any prince for that matter?

"You said, Pauline, that you wished to speak to me regarding a matter of some importance," replied Tara. "I cannot imagine what it would be other than my agreement with your husband..."

"I am sorry," replied Pauline, looking at the ground in embarrassment. "I did not think, I did not mean to mislead you. The matter of importance is of a more...personal nature."

"More personal?" asked Tara, completely confused.

"To you, yes," replied Pauline, glancing up at her. "You see, I have become rather good friends with someone very close to you and he asked me to do him a favor and I agreed. He is such a good man that I would do most anything to help him. He has been exceptionally kind to me and...well I would like to speak to you regarding him. I hope you do not think I am taking a liberty..."

"What man?" asked Tara, her features descending into a frown.

"His name is Brogdan," replied Pauline with a little crooked smile. "He has been an enormous help to me ever since my husband and I began courting. The other day, he asked me if I might speak with you regarding him and his proposal of marriage."

Tara laughed in relief. She had thought that Pauline had wished to speak to her regarding Jonathan, this was indeed an unexpected turn.

"He is asking you to help argue his proposal?" she asked.

Pauline nodded, "Yes, Lady Tara. I am certain that you know that Brogdan is a good man, but more than that, he is desperately in love with you. If you could only hear how highly he speaks of you...I know it must sound silly to you, but he is hoping that perhaps if you spoke to another woman your uneasiness regarding his suggestion might be abated."

Tara leaned back in her chair and found it impossible to contain her smile.

"I know that he is a good man, Pauline and I love him. Nor do I doubt his love for me," she replied. "He has my heart, what there is of it, but I am not ready to say yes to him, not for any lack in him but for every lack in me."

Pauline looked at her thoughtfully, "I understand you perfectly. When Jonathan proposed to me, I was both thrilled and mortified. Being a princess meant...means nothing to me. Imagine me at court...if you thought you were surprised to meet me, imagine the people there..."

Tara's features softened, she had a very low opinion of the nobility and she could only imagine the cruel things people said regarding this plain, simple girl. Tentatively, she reached out and touched Pauline's hand.

"I understand what it is to love someone and to feel lacking, but it is not true," continued Pauline softly. "Brogdan thinks you are perfect, not because you are, none of us are, but because you are perfect for him. Lady Tara, he loves you dearly, you are his life."

Pauline squeezed her hand and continued, "When Jonathan proposed, I wanted to say no, was ready to say no... I was afraid that I would never measure up, would never be good enough. I thought that no matter what I gave, it would never be good enough, but that isn't what love is. Love does not measure amounts in anything but all." She offered Tara a crooked smile, "I love Jonathan with all that I am; to some that may not be enough, but it is all that I have to give and he knows that all that I have, all that I am is his. In the same way, Brogdan loves you with all that he is and knows that you love him with all that you are...and it is all he can hope for and all that he wants. Do not think that all of you is not enough, Lady Tara. All of you is all that he is praying for; please don't doubt what you know in your heart is true. He loves you and knows that you love him. You do miss him, do you not?"

"Every moment he is away," replied Tara softly.

"And he misses you in the same way," replied Pauline. "He longs to be with you and you long to be with him, surely that must mean something. I hope that I am not speaking out of turn, but I too was afraid, I was terrified, but I could not doubt what I knew to be true. I love Jonathan, I always will and he will always have all of me, as Brogdan will always have all of you. It is enough, Lady Tara, it is all that he desires."

Tara swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands and looked out the window for a long moment. Standing she looked down at the plain looking woman with the large eyes and the crooked smile who sat looking at her patiently, expectantly.

"I'm going to put the kettle on and I want you to stay for tea and to talk with me some more," she stated softly. "I think that Brogdan...and I...are very fortunate to have such a friend as you..."

Pauline's smile grew, "I would love to have tea with you, Lady Tara and I would love to be considered your friend. Thank you, Lady Tara; I would like that very much..."

***

Anthony, the Earl of Carria, stood upon a cliff overlooking the pass between his homeland, Gronolo and the Kingdom of Darma. While there was a hint of spring in the air, winter still had not released its grip on the temperature and Anthony pulled his fur cloak more tightly about him and peered off towards the north intently. He was a handsome man in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and a slim, but athletic figure.

The Duke's chief engineer, a man named Gratiello, strode up beside him and grimaced. A heavyset man in his middle years, he was cantankerous and always seemed to be annoyed. His steel gray hair and matching beard seemed to frame a perpetual frown and he cleared his throat before speaking in a heavy, gravelly voice.

"It's almost done, milord," he stated. "Another week and we should have the entire thing complete."

Anthony nodded, "On both sides of the pass?"

Gratiello grimaced, "Yes, on both sides."

Anthony nodded again, "Have you seen anything..."

Gratiello pointed towards the north, "You can't see around mountains, milord. I've no doubt that they are preparing beyond that point, it's less than half a day's march, but I can't see anything and it's too far away to hear anything. I am sure you have spies..."

"Of course," interrupted Anthony, trying to control his own annoyance.

"Well, with all due respect, milord, ask your spies," snapped Gratiello. "I've been too busy doing the Duke's work to look over mountains."

Anthony shook his head; he had always been a diplomat, had always been in tuned to manners and feelings and to speak with Gratiello was like taking a bath in mud; there was nothing sublime or nuanced about it. The man was just grumpy and angry all of the time.

"Fine, Gratiello, if I need anything else answered, I'll send a message," he replied, turning away before the older man could answer.

He knew that the man understood engineering and had no doubt that what he said was true, but did he have to be so crude and disagreeable? Gaining his horse, Anthony mounted and rode swiftly down the hill that formed the other side of the cliff, his mind wandering back to his home.

He would be back at his estate within two hours and immediately leave in the hopes of catching up to his beloved Annalisse. His bride had reluctantly begun her journey back to Zambelia without her new husband, the appearance of a letter from Lord Albert requesting that he make this trip changing their plans. He would do anything for his new father-in-law, anything for his wife or her country, even betray his own happiness by parting with his bride.

He thought of his wedding such a short time before and could barely conceive that it had happened. Annalisse had warned him that her father, King Alex, would not be thrilled with the prospect of having a son-in-law and he thought back to their courting. He knew that many at court would disapprove of the princess marrying a nobleman from such a minor country and he had dreaded the hardship of courting the woman he loved in such an air of disapproval. He had felt unworthy of Annalisse as it was, she was an angel and his love for her knew no bounds. To his surprise, the Queen, Marie, and her son, Prince Jonathan had done all in their power to encourage him and support him, both at court and with the King.

Over time, once the King had seen how happy Anthony made Annalisse, he too began to openly support the courtship and by the time Anthony had asked for her hand, he felt, much to his relief, that Alex had truly welcomed him to the family. Anthony smiled; his father-in-law was every bit as big and formidable as his daughter was beautiful and loving, so to be welcomed into the family by that powerful giant had been an enormous relief.

He had promised Alex that he would bring Annalisse to Wharton for a visit within a month and they both had every intention of keeping that promise. Annalisse was excited to return to her father's court, though she had fallen in love with her new home here and the people of Gronolo. To his surprise, she had suggested that they return to his estate here as quickly as possible after the visit. He thought for sure that she would want to have an extended visit in her own homeland, but he had also seen how hard she worked to make their house into their home.

Looking up, he saw a messenger approaching. The man spotted him and spurred his horse more quickly up the incline that Anthony was descending. Drawing to a halt before Anthony, he bowed and called out to him.

"Your highness, the Earl of Caria?" he asked.

Anthony nodded, "Yes, I am the Earl of Caria."

"A message, milord," he stated, handing a scroll to Anthony.

Anthony frowned, "From whom?"

The messenger shook his head and said nothing more. Anthony understood and quickly opened the note and stared at the writing. It was, as he suspected, from the Prince, Lord Ernest, his wife's uncle. Scanning the contents, he quickly shredded the paper and stuffed the pieces inside of his tunic.

"Tell your master that his message is received and understood," he stated quickly.

He watched as the man bowed and then took off down the trail, never looking back. Anthony stayed in the spot a short time longer, unable to contain his smile. He wanted to make his way back to Gratiello and tell him that he had no need to ask him anything, he knew all that he needed to know, but it was undiplomatic to gloat. Besides, his wife was already at least a day's ride away, awaiting his return; his sweet, beautiful bride.

***

Joseph paced nervously as Jacob finished his packing, his eyes downcast.

"You must be careful," he stated, looking about his friend's quarters, noting how spare the room was and how few possessions Jacob owned.

"I will be careful," replied Jacob heavily. In sudden frustration, he threw the tunic he had been folding to place in his bag at the wall and muttered angrily, "Perhaps they won't be there when I arrive, perhaps they will have already left and I can walk about the seashore and visit with the servants."

"It's a pleasant thought," replied Joseph, "but rather unrealistic, don't you think?"

Jacob stared at him a moment. Joseph felt as if his friend's dark eyes were boring into him like a drill.

"Yes," he spat finally, retrieving his tunic, "yes, it is "unrealistic" as you call it. This whole thing will only add fuel to the fire, you realize. I can hear her now, "Your son has disgraced you, he needs to be..." his frowned deepened. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips, "I hadn't really thought of it, but what more can she do to me? The two of them have stolen the inheritance my Grandfather left for me, she stole my Father away from me and I'm left with nothing."

"You don't have nothing," replied Joseph quietly.

Jacob sneered, "No, of course I don't, I have people who love me, correct? I'm just not allowed to see them or be with them for the next six months..."

"It is a test, Jacob," replied Joseph evenly. "It is a test for both of us..."

"You get to stay with parents who love you," replied Jacob. "I get to return to...to whatever it is you would call happens on my Father's estate." Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, "If I only knew..."

"Knew what?" asked Joseph, his friend's words filled with an intriguing tone.

"It has to be the key," stated Jacob, looking at him thoughtfully. "I shouldn't be a sorcerer, there is no evidence that anyone in my family ever was a sorcerer and yet, I am. If I could find out how this happened, maybe...maybe I would understand everything."

"What, everything?" asked Joseph.

"My life," replied Jacob. "Why is my life the way it is?" He shook his head and looked away, fighting the tears he felt rising in his eyes.

"Do you still see her?" asked Joseph.

Jacob nodded, "I still see her. I'm certain she will be angry with me when I see her next. "Forgive him", she always says, "Forgive him", as if he has ever been concerned about my forgiveness!"

Joseph sat down next to him and spoke softly, "Perhaps she is telling you to forgive him for your sake, Jacob, not for his."

Jacob looked at him a moment and then looked down at his hands.

"I will miss you, Joseph," he said softly. "It will be a long six months..."

"For us both," replied Joseph. "Don't forget, I will miss you too..."
Chapter 5

Wilton sat at the rear of the coach beside his wife, holding her hand and looking out at the passing scenery. He glanced at her and sighed, she was so beautiful and in so many ways, so good, but her jealousy of her cousin, the Princess Pauline, had begun to overshadow so many of her good points that Wilton was becoming concerned.

A big man, heavy set and strong, with a round, good humored face, his brown hair worn, at his wife's insistence, swept back in the latest style, Wilton like a brother to Prince Jonathan. With their friend, Randy, they had been squires together, had grown up together and he had always wanted to remain close to both of them. Since Jonathan's marriage to Pauline, however, he had found maintaining their friendship, especially his friendship with Jonathan, more and more difficult to negotiate.

Wilton could not understand his wife's jealousy. Ellen was strikingly beautiful, indeed one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom. Wilton's father and his majesty the King had been most generous to him, they owned several estates, had a more than adequate income and were in demand socially. Ellen's father was an important man in the building of ships and enjoyed a close relationship with the King and the Queen. From all aspects one could examine, their lives were blessed and yet...

Wilton frowned, he disliked thinking poorly of other people, but Pauline, in his opinion, could not compare in any way to his Ellen. Ellen was tall and beautiful, always the center of attention and Pauline was quiet and shy and plain. She was a fine woman and she made Jonathan happy, but she had always been plain and quiet and something of a non-entity. When Jonathan had told him that he wished to court Pauline he had done his best not to show his absolute astonishment.

Why someone as handsome and intelligent and accomplished as Jonathan wished to court someone as plain and sheltered and quiet as Pauline made no sense to him at all. Yet when he saw them together, saw the way that Jonathan looked at her, well, it made him remember that while Ellen was a great beauty, he certainly was not and yet his wife loved him. Who knew what drew two people together, he certainly had no idea, but he was thankful that whatever it was, it had made Ellen fall in love with him.

Absently, he squeezed her hand, which caused Ellen to notice him for the first time in many miles. Ellen was dressed in a sapphire gown, her beautiful hair cascading down from a very expensive hat in the same color. Her face was that of an angel and she turned to Wilton and sighed.

"Wilton, I do hope that we will be at Lord Parker's estate soon. I do not like sitting this long, it will crease my gown and then I will be unpresentable. How will that look, me in a creased gown being greeted by Lady Susan, the most beautiful woman in the entire kingdom? I can NOT afford to look poorly, Wilton..."

"You are much more beautiful than Lady Susan," smiled Wilton. "You are much more beautiful than any other woman alive..."

Ellen smiled, "I believe it is so important to be beautiful and look ones best. I know how hard you try, my love, and I appreciate all of your efforts. It is difficult for men to be handsome all of the time, I think it is because all of you sweat so much from all of your activity." Drawing closer, she counseled him seriously, "When we get to Lord Parker's estate, I beg you, do as little as possible, I do not want you sweating..."

"I will do my best to do nothing," promised Wilton.

"Did you send a note to Randy and Heather?" she asked pointedly.

"I explained that we were going to Lord Parker's and told them to have a good time visiting with Jonathan and Pauline," stated Wilton softly.

"I hope they tell Jonathan and Pauline," smiled Ellen. "They will be so jealous! Lord Parker never invites THEM to his estate; Lady Susan can barely tolerate to be in the same room as Pauline. The last time I saw her, just before Jonathan's wedding, she asked me if my husband's friend still insisted on marrying a broomstick, oh how we did laugh!"

"Not everyone is as beautifully formed as you are my love," replied Wilton.

"I believe that Lady Susan sees me as a confidant," stated Ellen, ignoring his words. "She writes me often and I have heard that she told Lady Trillian that she thought the purple gown I wore at the wedding was much more beautiful than the bride's gown."

"You did look exceptionally enchanting, even for you," smiled Wilton, thinking back to Jonathan and Pauline's wedding.

"Princess," hissed Ellen dismissively. "If Pauline can be a princess, a frog can be a prince!"

Wilton remained silent as his wife continued to disparage her cousin. What was he to do? He wished that she would forget about Pauline, forget about her being a princess. Pauline was sweet and kind, why could Ellen not be happy for her?

***

The arrival of the Baron Fiskar to Lord Parker and Lady Susan's estate set off a spasm of excitement within the household and amongst all of the guests. The Baron had served King Joseph, King Alex' father, nobly in the first Vesek war and in the subsequent war with Darma. His strategy and daring were legendary and he was recognized as one of the greatest military heroes in Zambelia's history.

His dislike of King Alex', first for his marriage to Queen Marie and then for his elevation of his son, Prince Jonathan, to heir to the throne were well known. He was famous for his self-exile from the court at Wharton and his cantankerous nature. The Baron seldom travelled or received visitors, so to have him travel to attend Parker at his own estate was an enormous social coup.

As the Baron's worn, but ornate carriage pulled down the main drive and up to the main entrance of the palace, all of the guest stood expectantly upon the main stairs, each hoping to capture a glimpse of legend in the flesh. A footman, who appeared as worn as the coach, stepped from the back of the carriage and moved to open the door, placing a step upon the ground. A thick leg emerged, followed by another and then the Baron stepped out into the sunlight, glancing up at the sky, a frown firmly fixed upon his face.

The Baron was an elderly man in his late sixties or early seventies, his short cut gray hair standing up like the bristles of a brush upon his large skull. His face was large and fleshy with a large, thick mustache topping a thin upper and thick bottom lip. His expression seemed one of malevolence as he stepped to the ground, his tall, thick body swathed in heavy furs.

The group watched silently as Parker and Susan stepped forward to formally welcome their honored guest.

"Welcome, Baron Fiskar," stated Parker, playing to the crowd as he offered the Baron a low bow. "May I present my wife, the Lady Susan..."

Susan stepped forward, offering the Baron a low curtsy, looking like a Queen in a royal blue ensemble highlighted by exquisite diamonds.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, milord. I pray that your journey was a pleasant one."

The Baron bristled, staring down at her as if she had completely lost her mind.

"I told the damn coachman to take the Hellington Pike, join the Spring River Road and then cross at the Pelham Bridge before taking the final leg of our journey on the Scotchdale Plain Road, but what did the fool do? He took the Hellington Pike to the Spring River Road and then BY PASSED the Pelham Bridge, taking us to the Ospry Bridge before finding the Scotchdale Plain Road! Now I ask you, madam, how can I have had a pleasant journey when my instructions were so carelessly and incompletely followed?"

Susan stared up at the Baron, unsure of what to say. Parker came to the rescue. Pulling her to her feet, he smiled.

"My dear Baron, I am certain that the journey was a trial, but may I assure you that both my wife and I are humbled by your visit to our estate."

A murmur of agreement rose from the group assembled in the background. The Baron stared hostilely at the assembled group, who seemed to shrink back at the dark, probing eyes. After a moment, he turned his attention back to Parker and Susan.

"We have prepared a special dinner in your honor," stated Susan pleasantly. "Won't you please join us?"

The Baron's frown grew deeper, but upon a moment's reflection it appeared to be the best offer he would receive.

"Very well, madam," he crabbed, "now that I am here, I suppose there is nothing to do but get on with it."

Susan offered him her arm, which he ignored as he stormed past his host and his wife and towards the stairs, calling over his shoulder to his servants, "Bring the luggage this way and don't be slack about it!"

"What in the name..." began Susan.

"He is eccentric, darling," whispered Parker softly, "but he is here and he can be of use to us."

Susan glanced at him, her smile returning.

"Of course, darling, of course..."

Together the two followed the Baron up the stairs and into the house, the guests trailing behind, unsure of what to make of it all.

Stepping inside the grand foyer the Baron scanned the rich appointments, the costly tapestries, the gorgeous chandeliers and his frown grew deeper.

"My wife decorated this entire home herself," stated Parker, moving quickly to get back in front of the Baron. "She has an eye for detail and beauty and a refined taste..."

"I could furnish an entire army for what this cost," snapped the Baron vigorously. "This is what is wrong with the current generation. Tapestries and chandeliers! I spent seven weeks marching in the rain against the Darmanians, do you think soldiers now a days could repeat that feat?"

"Your record is well known, milord," stated Susan as she tried mightily to control her patience. "Perhaps you would feel better if you went to your suite and rested..."

"Rested from what, milady?" replied the Baron. A silence hung in the air a moment too long and then, "I didn't drive the coach...the damn coachman didn't drive it either, but it isn't the point. You promised me something to eat, did you not?"

"Of course, milord..." began Parker.

"Well, if you're going to feed a man, don't send him off for a nap beforehand," replied the Baron angrily.

"Of course, my dear Baron," laughed Susan, trying to make light of the entire matter. "Won't you join us, this way, please..."

"Offer you a meal and then send you to rest," grumbled the Baron, stomping behind his hosts as they led the group towards the dining hall.

Parker glanced back at the Baron and then spoke to Susan under his breath, "This is going to be a long week if he is here."

"Stop complaining," she snapped for his ears only. "Once he is on our side, we can see that he gets killed gloriously in the first skirmish."

Parker smiled at his wife; she still thought the revolution was the plan. It did not matter, she would not be around to know how wrong she was anyway...

***

Eva sat at the small table at the back of the inn, dressed in a black cloak, a hood throwing her face into shadow. Opposite her sat a large, coarse looking man, his face a mask of impudence and debauchery. His eyes were hidden by folds of fat and his bald head shined in the dim candlelight. As he spoke, his formidable beard moved as a solid block, giving him the appearance of a puppet; a large, angry, deadly puppet.

"Who is he?" he asked, his voice low and harsh.

"He is no easy mark," hissed Eva. "This isn't someone you can slice up in an alley or sneak up behind, but I've heard that you are competent."

The man stared at her hard; he had a professional's pride in his abilities and he did not take to this woman questioning his ability.

"I've done noblemen before, plenty of times," he growled. "You think they're any different. A life's a life and snuffing out a life is all the same. As long as they stop breathing..."

"Can you guarantee he'll stop breathing?" she purred defiantly.

The man drew a finger sharply across his throat in reply.

"Who's the target?" he growled.

"Anthony, Earl of Carria," she purred.

The man squinted, "The Princess' new husband?"

"The same," replied Eva.

The man looked down at the table and nodded. Looking up at her, he smiled, "Had his fun with you and then married a princess, did he..."

"Don't be an ass," she snapped, her remarks startling him. "Do you think this is some simpleminded revenge? Some lovers quarrel? If you're such a fool as that, I'll take my money elsewhere..."

"Calm down," snapped the man, motioning to the bartender to bring them some wine. He stared at her a moment more, "If that's not the case, then who are you doing this for?"

"Call it a little act of diplomacy," she responded, leaning back into the shadows as the bartender placed the bottle and two glasses upon the table.

The man seemed to be mulling over the possibilities.

"Would it be outright or secret?" he asked.

"We want it done quietly," replied Eva. "No one should suspect that it wasn't natural or accidental; do I make myself clear?"

The man nodded as he poured the wine. Lifting his glass, he took a large gulp.

"It can be done, but it will cost you..."

"How much?"

The man considered it. An outright assassination would be easier, but an accident would take more planning and more people.

"Ten thousand golds, up front," he murmured.

She shook he head, the cape sliding ever so slightly side to side as she spoke, "Ten thousand, five up front, five when it is done."

"Seventy-five hundred up front, twenty-five hundred when it's done," he replied.

She sipped her wine while she thought it over. The money did not matter to her, all she needed was for Parker to bed one more noble woman and they would have the funds in a week.

"Done," she said.

"When?" he asked, placing his goblet down.

"The new couple are making their way back to Wharton and should be here in a week," she stated. "Make her a widow by the end of the month."

"When do I see my money?" he asked,

"Meet me here next week," she smiled. "I'll have your money for you then. Oh, and don't think of backing out of the deal, our sponsor has enough contacts to see your tongue removed before you can tell your story. Remember, if you betray him, it will be a silent hanging."

The man smiled, an evil scar of teeth stretched between two rubbery lips.

"Plenty have tried to put a rope around my neck, no one has ever succeeded and no one is ever going too."

Eva smiled, she had the right man...
Chapter 6

Lord Albert and Lady Stasha sat opposite the King and Queen, eating breakfast together in the family dining room. It had been the first time in quite a while that the four of them were able just to sit and enjoy each other's company. Albert and Stasha were beloved friends and advisors to Alex and Marie and they had been through a tremendous amount together.

For a time, no one spoke, each one lost in their thoughts as they ate until finally, Stasha spoke up.

"I'm sorry, I don't agree."

Everyone stopped eating and looked at her.

"Don't agree about what, my love?" asked Albert.

"I don't agree that that boy should go home," stated Stasha. "It's just the opinion of an old woman, but nothing good can come of it."

"The Glorious One..." began Alex.

"The Glorious One isn't the King," interrupted Stasha. "I'm sorry Alex, but we all know what type of home he is being sent too. You and Albert will have to send troops there soon, isn't it bad enough that he lost his mother, but to have his father and whatever she is arrested in front of him..."

"Stasha, I will do all that I can to see that he does not have to witness it..." began Alex, feeling awful about the entire situation.

"I can't believe that a boy who sat here and ate your food and fought beside you and your brother could turn out so rotten," muttered Stasha. "How is that going to affect Jacob's future? People are going to lump him together with them..."

"I think anyone who knows Jacob will know that he and his father are not exactly friends," stated Marie softly. "I hate to see him return to them as well, Stasha, but we must keep to our commitments, even if they are difficult for us personally."

"I'm afraid, my love, that Marie is right," said Albert softly. "It was our hope...well, it was my hope, that Parker would realize the futility of his plans and would try and make amends...it was my hope that he would remember..."

"How could he forget all that you did for him?" asked Stasha, her eyes filled with tears. "You raised him, Albert and you," she said, pointing to Alex, "you and he were like brothers. You and Ernest, all three of you...after everything, after losing Gertrude you'd think he would have known how important it was to have a family..."

"And Jacob," said Albert mournfully. "That poor boy..."

"And now we push him away," replied Stasha.

"We're not pushing him away, Stasha," said Marie, her voice filled with pain. "Whatever it is that we are doing, we will never push him away. He has to know that we love him, he must..."

Alex picked up his goblet and took a mouthful of water, it tasted sour in his mouth.

"We are at war," he stated softly. "It is not always easy to stay the course, but we must stick to our plans until we know that they are not working. Somehow, Jacob is part of this, even though we've tried to protect him, even though we did our best to keep this from him, he is part of it. There is more to this than any of us know, perhaps we will never truly know the full extent..."

Alex took another sip and turned away. After a time, Stasha spoke again.

"I'm sorry Alex," she said mournfully. "I know you don't have the luxury of second guessing yourself like everyone else does...you have to make a decision and standby it for everyone's good."

Alex shook his head, "No one second guesses me more than I do...We have to trust that God will let it all happen for the greater good..."

After breakfast, Alex and Marie found themselves anxiously awaiting the arrival of Jonathan and Pauline. At last, about midmorning, the captain of the guard entered the royal audience chamber and notified the King and Queen that Jonathan and Pauline had arrived at Wharton. Alex had been anxious to share with Jonathan the latest intelligence on several matters while Marie was excited to once again see her new daughter-in-law. With Annalisse away, Marie particularly enjoyed having Pauline nearby. She had grown to love her as her own daughter and enjoyed spending time with her.

As much as all wished to merely enjoy time as family together, business could never be completely put away and Jonathan and Alex retreated for a short time to the King's study to discuss a pressing issue.

"So they refuse to help us when the time comes," said Jonathan as he and his father took seats beside each other.

"They refuse to help us MORE," corrected Alex. "They are already assisting us in the creation of the tunnels, but if fighting breaks out, they feel that they cannot assist us in subduing our enemies."

"I do not understand, Father," confessed Jonathan.

"Sorcerers and dragons, Jonathan, have more rules to live by than even your Uncle Ernest has broken in a lifetime," laughed Alex. "It can often be frustrating to deal with them, but I have learned that it is best to accept that they will go so far and go no further. I sincerely appreciate what the Dragon King has done for us."

"As am I," replied Jonathan. "Were you able to find out what it was that Tidon did to them?"

Alex grimaced, "Not completely, but I do know that his men killed a young dragon some time ago. According to them, it attacked them when they entered a cave to get out of a storm. According to the Dragon King, the youngling was attacked for sport. Tidon offered no apology and the Dragon King was sufficiently angered to order his minions to no longer make their homes that far north."

"Which is why you offered him the use of the Vesek Mountains," nodded Jonathan.

"The mountains are sparsely populated and I have spoken to the governor," stated Alex. "Keeping good relations with the Dragons is of great importance."

"They are too formidable to want them as foes," agreed Jonathan, "which is why I don't understand Tidon's actions."

Alex frowned, "Sometimes you get into a bad mindset and end up hurting yourself most of all. Still, enough of this, your mother wants to spend time with you before your friends arrive."

As a surprise for the young couple, the King and Queen had invited Lord Randy and Lady Heather to visit Wharton and stay for a week with their son, Randy. Heather and Randy arrived about noon and after a festive reunion lunch, Heather and Randy had put their son down for a nap and went to rendezvous with their friends in the gardens. Amongst the trees in the chilly spring air, out of earshot of the court, the four friends finally felt able to relax.

Moving to her cousin, Pauline embraced her before Heather could speak.

"I have missed you so much," she said softly into Heather's ear.

Heather laughed, "You missed me so much but I notice that you spent all of your time cooing over little Randy..."

Jonathan stood, smiling at the two women, clasping hands with his friend Randy.

"I have missed you as well," stated Jonathan. "He is a beautiful little boy."

"He is growing so tall," said Pauline, sitting beside her cousin on a bench in the garden and taking her hands into her own. "Did you two have a pleasant journey here?"

"Everything was fine," laughed Heather. "Everything was fine. How about you and Jonathan? I noticed that you had to meet with your father this morning, it must be such a burden to be so important that the King calls on you for advice." Turning she smiled at her cousin, "And how are you, Pauline? Do you wish you had married a less important man?"

"I am very well," blushed Pauline, glancing at Jonathan as she spoke. "I do not care if my husband is important to anyone else, as long as he is certain that he is the world to me. I am truly blessed to have such a kind and understanding husband..."

"I am the blessed one," replied Jonathan, looking at her tenderly.

"So," smiled Randy, "married life is agreeable to you?"

Jonathan's large smile caused the other three to laugh.

"She is all that I could hope for and more," he responded, reaching out to take his wife's hand. "There has never been a more fortunate man."

"And the court?" asked Heather softly. "Have things improved regarding certain people..."

"The court be damned," replied Jonathan angrily.

Pauline looked at him disapprovingly, "Jonathan, you mustn't speak that way, my love. People should be allowed their opinions..."

"They know nothing about you, my love," he began angrily.

"They will know me in time, Jonathan," stated Pauline. "Let us be honest, Jonathan. I do not make the most graceful or refined first impression, even with you..."

"I was a fool, Pauline..."

"Don't start that again," scolded Heather. "If anyone is going to call you a fool, please allow me the privilege. I was the one who had to dance with you all of those years..."

"He is a wonderful dancer," smiled Pauline.

"And I am glad he has found someone who wishes to dance with him," laughed Heather. "Frankly, he was beginning to annoy me..."

"Beginning?" asked Jonathan, unable to contain his laughter.

"I was most patient with you, Jonathan," replied Heather. "You did not have to brave the hordes of ninnies who had us married multiple times. If I told them once I told them a thousand times, he has his good points, but if we married I would kill him!"

The other three laughed.

"I heard her say it and yet I married her," smiled Randy. "I suppose I am the biggest fool of all..."

"Nonsense," replied Heather with a smile, "you are merely the most fortunate fool, not the biggest."

When the laughter died down, Jonathan grimaced and asked Heather, "Have you heard from your other cousin?"

Heather pursed her lips, "We had invited them to join us on our visit here, but Randy received a letter from Wilton apologizing for not coming with us to visit Wharton and explaining that he and his wife were on their way to visit Lord Parker and Lady Susan at their estate down south."

Jonathan nodded, taking in the implications. Ever since his marriage to Pauline, Wilton and his wife Ellen had been avoiding them, both at their home, Angelrod and at court at Wharton. Through Randy he had learned that while Wilton felt awful about the situation but there was little he could do. Since Jonathan had married Pauline, Wilton's wife, Ellen, had grown envious of Pauline's new status and position. Having always overshadowed Pauline, she could not accept Pauline having become a Princess and was unable to hide her jealousy.

"She has not replied to any of my invitations to join us at Angelrod," stated Pauline softly, the hurt she was feeling evident on her features. "I am sorry for Ellen, she seems to have so much and yet she seems so unhappy whenever we are together..."

"The problem is hers, Pauline," stated Heather. "You have done nothing wrong by falling in love with Jonathan, though you might be faulted for a lapse in taste..."

The others laughed, but Pauline merely shook her head, "I am sorry, Heather, but I disagree. Perhaps I have been inconsiderate of her feelings..."

"I am afraid that I must disagree with you, my love," interrupted Jonathan. "I know she is your cousin, but you have done nothing to her and as far as being considerate of other people's feelings, there is no one more considerate than you."

"He is right, Pauline," agreed Heather softly. "Ellen is jealous, it is as simple as that; you have what she prizes and what makes the entire thing so ridiculous is that what she prizes does not interest you in the least, but she cannot see it that way."

"I suppose, like all of us, she thinks that everyone desires what she desires," stated Randy tactfully. "I must agree with Heather and Jonathan, Pauline; you have done nothing wrong to Ellen. In truth, it is Wilton I feel sorry for..."

"I miss having him about," confessed Jonathan, "I am sure we both do. He has been placed in an unfortunate position..."

"It is his own fault for not being more firm with her," stated Heather. "He should tell her..."

Randy laughed, "Telling one's wife anything is not always the best course of action, my dear."

Heather considered it as Jonathan and Pauline tried to suppress their smiles.

"Perhaps you have a point," she finally conceded. "Fortunately for you, you have a wife you can discuss things with..."

They all laughed. Suddenly, a loud voice startled them all.

"WHERE IS SHE?" snapped a deep, manly voice.

Jonathan stopped and turned just in time to see his friend and tutor, Brogdan, striding purposefully towards the group. Brogdan was a large, muscular man with a bald head and black eyes who was intimidating even when he was not shouting.

Instinctively, the group fell back behind Jonathan as Brogdan's steps quickened.

"WHERE IS SHE?" he repeated loudly.

"Where is who, Brogdan?" replied Jonathan, his features dropping into a confused scowl.

Jonathan started slightly as Brogdan suddenly veered away to his right and advanced upon Pauline. Before anyone could react, Brogdan leaned down and grasping Pauline about the waist, lifted her into the air and spun around with her. Pauline stared down at him, mortified, her face a bright red, her hands resting upon his shoulders in order to maintain her balance. The scene drew a crowd of people immediately, all of whom stood stunned as Brogdan roared happily.

"She said yes, she said YES!" he repeated over and over, "And it is all because of you, milady! You did it!"

"Brogdan," snapped Jonathan, shocked and upset, knowing how Pauline hated to be made the center of attention. "Put her down!"

Brogdan placed Pauline back on the ground and then enveloped her in a hug that left very little of her showing to the shocked group.

"Thank you, milady, thank you!"

Pauline peeked out from around Brogdan's shoulder, her eyes wide as she stared at her husband, pleading silently for his assistance.

"Milord," she finally managed, "I am most pleased by your announcement and I am sure only you are happier about the results, but you are smothering me..."

Brogdan stepped back slightly and smiled, "I am sorry, milady, with all my heart, I would never harm you, but you have given me such happiness..."

"I am glad whatever she has done has pleased you," stated Heather, drawing closer to her cousin and eyeing her with concern. "I would hate to see how you would have crushed her if you had been displeased."

Brogdan threw back his head and laughed, "I would go to the ends of the earth for this young lady! She is an ANGEL!" He dropped to a knee and holding Pauline's hands, kissed them repeatedly. "I cannot believe it, you have made me the happiest of men, thank you..."

"What did you do?" asked Jonathan, staring at his wife, who seemed to grow a darker shade of red with every passing moment.

"I assisted his lordship by speaking to the Lady Tara," replied Pauline, torn between her happiness for Brogdan and the embarrassment she felt at being stared at by the ever-growing crowd. "I am assuming that she has agreed to wed him..."

Jonathan broke into a wide smile, "That is wonderful news, Brogdan, wonderful news. Now I beg you for a favor?"

"Anything my prince!" smiled Brogdan, rising and hugging Pauline once again.

"Please stop hugging my wife," said Jonathan. "There is not a lot of her and I would like to keep what there is intact."

Brogdan smiled and released Pauline, whom Jonathan quickly drew to his side.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked softly, wrapping a protective arm about her waist.

"Surprised," replied Pauline, holding to him tightly, feeling safe in his embrace. "Surprised and pleased, of course. I am very happy for both you and the lady, Brogdan."

"You are all invited to the wedding!" laughed Brogdan. "We will have a wonderful time!"

"I am sure that we all wish you well," smiled Randy, embracing Brogdan, who in his enthusiasm, lifted him and spun him around in a bear hug.

"I will offer my best wishes from here," smiled Heather. "I have no wish to become such a large hound's next bone."

Brogdan smiled at her, "I am sorry, milady, I cannot contain my happiness!"

Jonathan looked down at Pauline, who offered him a slight, crooked smile.

"You did a wonderful thing, my love," he stated softly.

"I am happy I could help," she replied softly. "I am happiest, however, that he did not squeeze me any harder."

Jonathan turned just in time to be lifted into an embrace by Brogdan, who laughed and shouted, "I am the happiest of men!"

Jonathan smiled as he watched his wife slide behind Heather in search of protection from Brogdan's enthusiasm.

Once he was returned to his feet, Jonathan called out to a servant standing in the startled crowd, "Jeffrey, bring champagne for everyone! Let us toast to the happy couple!"

People began to move forward, congratulating the groom to be. Jonathan stepped back and once again placed his arm about his wife's waist.

"You have done a wonderful thing," he whispered softly as he kissed her forehead.

"Truly, I am happy to have helped, but I just hope that I survive it," she replied as the others laughed.

***

Ellen stepped down from the coach, carefully straightening her gown and then touching her hair gently. She wanted to look her best for Lady Susan and Lord Parker. Glancing back at Wilton, she grimaced slightly. She knew when she married him that Wilton would never be dashing, but at times like this it was truly troubling to realize how undashing he truly appeared. She always felt a certain competitive spirit rise within her when she was with Lady Susan. She had been compared favorably with her and secretly ached to be considered the more beautiful of the two. Wilton's non-glamorous appearance did not help her chances of that happening. Why could he not be more like Lord Parker? Ellen was about to scold him when a voice called out a sweet hello.

Turning she saw Lady Susan descending the stairs, arms outstretched in welcome. The lady looked enchanting in a golden gown with white fur trim, her sultry figure perfectly displayed, her hair lush and full, her face angelic.

Ellen reached out and grabbed her proffered hands and smiled as Lady Susan examined her with and approving smile.

"I am so pleased that you are here, Lady Ellen," stated Susan, pulling Ellen towards the door and completely ignoring Wilton. "Baron Fiskar joined us yesterday and I am hoping that your beauty and charm might be brought to bear upon him."

"My Father is very good friends with the Baron," smiled Ellen, obviously much taken with Susan's appreciation of her.

"Then I will sit you beside him at lunch today," smiled Susan, leading her towards the rear of the foyer, headed towards the patio where her other guests were lounging.

"Of course, of course," smiled Ellen, "anything for you, dear Lady Susan."

"Lord Wilton," stated Susan, calling out over her shoulder, a slight tone of disapproval in her voice. "I am afraid that you have missed the gentlemen, they all set out for a hunt of some sort. You and Lord Trillian are the only men present and I believe Lord Trillian has already fallen asleep..."

"It is not a problem, milady," replied Wilton, forcing a smile. "I will do my best to stay out of the way of the ladies and make myself agreeable..."

"Very well," replied Susan, pulling Ellen forward. "If you can't amuse yourself on your own, please join us..."

Wilton smiled at the slight and followed the ladies out onto the patio. Various women sat sunning themselves in groups of two or three or four, conversing quietly while servants floated amongst them passing out drinks.

Wilton spied Lord Trillian's rotund figure dozing upon a bench off in the corner and tottered off to join him, obviously trying to be inconspicuous and failing completely.

Lady Susan took Ellen to the center of the group and smiled as the women quickly assembled around them. All of the women greeted Ellen warmly, praising her beauty and fine ensemble.

Lady Trillian, smiling devilishly, drew closer to Ellen. One of the most prolific gossips in the kingdom, she had become disenchanted with the King and Queen upon their approval of their son's courtship of Lady Pauline. Since then, she had been a faithful follower of Lady Susan, passing about rumor and inuendo to discredit the royal family.

"So, milady," smiled Lady Trillian, "have you seen much of your vaunted cousin?"

"Do you mean my dear cousin, Lady Heather?" asked Ellen in mock innocence.

"No, no, my dear," replied Lady Trillian, playing her part, "I mean your dear cousin, Lady, oh, excuse me, I mean PRINCESS Pauline..."

Ellen pretended to think before replying, "I cannot say what was the last time I spoke to my cousin Pauline; is she really a princess now?"

The others laughed as Lady Trillian spoke, "That is the rumor, milady..."

"Well," smiled Ellen, "it just goes to show what poor quality royalty is made of..."

Wilton grit his teeth as he heard the peals of laughter. The Lord Trillian jolted to consciousness with the intrusion of the laughter into his sleep.

"What..." he mumbled.

"Tis the ladies laughing, milord," stated Wilton.

"Laughing, you say," replied Lord Trillian. "Surely my wife isn't present..."

Wilton contained his own laughter at the remark, "She is indeed, milord. Your good lady wife is speaking treason with my own dear wife..."

The Lord Trillian grimaced and then looked up at Wilton, blinking slowly as he placed the face with a name.

"Lord Wilton," he mumbled, forcing himself to his feet. "Thank God you're here. All the other men have run off to try and kill some poor animal and left me here with this gaggle of geese..."

"Perhaps we could repair to the drawing room, milord," smiled Wilton, taking two glasses from a passing tray and offering one to his companion. "I doubt that we will be missed."

Lord Trillian sniffed as the women broke forth in another burst of laughter.

"Come, it is this way," he grumbled, forcing his stiff legs to carry him back into the house and down the corridor to the drawing room.

Once inside the room, he carefully closed the doors and took a chair, beckoning Wilton to join him. As Wilton sat down, Lord Trillian looked at him seriously.

"Has our Lord sent any instructions with you?" he asked softly.

"Nothing other than to keep our eyes and ears open," replied Wilton. "I don't like it, milord."

"You'll like it far less once you've been here for a time," replied Trillian, taking a sip of his drink and finding it to his liking. "The men are worse than the women and the woman are all of a bad lot. The things I've heard said would give the King reason to fill the prisons with this lot..."

Wilton grimaced, "What of your wife, milord?"

He glanced at the carpet and then back at Wilton, "The same as yours, milord. Opinions about everything and not a brain in her head."

Wilton nodded at the justice of the statement.

"They can't truly think they can be successful," he whispered. "Has Lord Parker gone mad?"

Lord Trillian leaned back and glancing about the room, replied softly, "Get a bad notion in your head, milord and it is amazing what you can get yourself to believe. At least with the women it's a clear-cut case of jealousy. It's a terrible thing, jealousy...it is consuming my wife and there is nothing I can do to stop it. The men, they're all mad, lost in a greed, all thinking that this new order that Parker will establish will make them something they could never become..."

"I am certain they hope to turn the Baron to their cause," stated Wilton.

"They think they have from what I've overheard," replied Lord Trillian unhappily. "I don't read it that way myself, but I can't be part of every action or conversation."

"Well, at least there are two of us now," stated Wilton. "Hopefully we can cover more territory this way."

Lord Trillian nodded, "I still despair of my wife, Lord Wilton. If the King finds out half of what she has said..."

Wilton took a draught from his cup, "The same here, milord. Hopefully we can save them from themselves...hopefully the King will never know the half of it."

***

The map that lay unfolded before them in King Tidon's war chamber was larger than the table upon which it sat, heavily detailed and marked in multiple places. The King stalked around the entire table as he spoke, gesturing to the various points he was speaking about as continued his lecture.

"Our main army will strike here, at the pass leading to Gronolo," he rumbled, the officers and courtiers all nodding their heads and keeping silent as the King spoke. "We should seize control of the Duchy within two weeks-time. Their main defense is the castle, fortified here at the mouth of the pass. Once we have sacked the castle, we will send the cavalry forward with the main body of infantry marching directly for the border with Zambelia."

"Sire, perhaps we could bypass the castle," suggested the King's military advisor, Lord Cailin, as he squinted at the map. "A relatively small force could siege the castle as our main force marches to Zambelia."

"We will destroy the castle prior to anyone alerting King Alex, Lord Cailin," grumbled the King. "The Gronolians are fruit merchants and sheep herders..." those assembled chuckled at the King's words. "They will not be able to withstand our onslaught."

Moving slowly to the left, the King continued, "Two weeks after our attack in Gronolo, our western and eastern forces will attack Zambelia through the passes in Vesek and eastern Zambelia. While the second force winds its way through the Gelmar Pass in northern Vesek, our third army will strike south for the city Keshwa on Zambelia's eastern coast. Our navy will meet them there with supplies..."

"But might not the King of Zambelia fortify that area, sire," asked another courtier. "I mean, with us attacking Gronolo..."

"We know from our spies that the passes are only lightly guarded," snapped the King. "The King of Zambelia keeps auxiliary forces half way between the three main passes, the faster to bring reinforcements to an area should the passes be attacked. When Lord Parker starts his revolt, those forces will move south to crush him, leaving the passes with no auxiliary force to call upon. King Alex' cost saving measure will betray him; he will have committed his auxiliaries to Parker's folly and we will have gained the Vesek and Gronolo passes. There will not be enough men to cover our simultaneous attacks and THAT is where we will get him. It will be weeks before he can send assistance and by that time, we will have already taken his northern provinces and most of Vesek before we swing through and march on Wharton."

"What of the other pass, sire?" asked a young officer, pointing to the right of the map. "Are you striking there as well, sire?"

"In order to move quickly, we will strike only at the main passes," replied Lord Cailin, with a polite nod to the King. "There is no sense of splitting our forces further, it will only weaken them where they are needed most."

"But milord," replied the officer. "We would have to march through part of Danderon to use the eastern pass into Zambelia..."

"And do you think King Estes will oppose us?" roared Tidon. "He is old and feeble; he will keep his mouth shut. Better to lose the territory surrounding the pass than to lose his entire kingdom..."

The other officers murmured their agreement.

"Do you think that Parker has any chance of success?" asked the Duke of Rectra. The entire plan made him feel uneasy, but since Lord Cailin had gotten the King's ear, he had noted that his influence had dwindled to almost nothing.

"No, none at all. Still, if he were to overcome the king's forces, he will have to bring what remains of his army up from the south," laughed Tidon, "and our forces from the east and west, will crush him between them. Kill the King, kill the pretender to the throne and kill all of the nobles. After that we have the peasants and the land."

The men all nodded their agreement, save Rectra.

"You say nothing, Rectra," growled the King. "You do not approve of my plan?"

"I live to serve, sire," replied Rectra softly, offering a slight bow.

"No, Rectra," laughed the King harshly. "If you serve, you might live...remember that...."
Chapter 7

Parker's drawing room was brilliantly lit, the sun so powerful that it made looking through the windows almost painful. He had requested that Eva meet him here so that me might discuss his first moves in the wooing of Princess Annalisse. True, Anthony was not yet dead, but it was vital that he begin laying the ground work and he prized Eva's intelligence.

Eva looked at the vase and shook her head with a grimace.

"I do not believe it is the correct gift, my love," she stated softly.

"You do not think it will entice the princess?" asked Parker, annoyed by her rejection of the idea.

"Her husband is not yet dead," stated Eva diplomatically. "A present for the newly married couple is one thing, an erotic vase sends a different message."

"It is originally from Gronolo," replied Parker stiffly.

"So is the bad idea that a princess marries a minor duke," laughed Eva.

Parker chuckled at the joke, the tension broken.

"Very well, then what do you suggest?" he asked, wrapping an arm about her waist and retrieving the vase.

"Send her something that will comfort her when her husband dies," suggested Eva thoughtfully. She looked at him and smiled, "A shawl! A shawl made of Albrian Sana wool...it is renowned for its softness, its warmth...yes, it something she can cling too once her duke dies and then you may gently remind her that it was YOU who so selflessly sent it to her."

Parker nodded, the idea appealing to him.

"Yes, women need that, need something to cling too when tragedy strikes...yes, an excellent idea..."

Parker leaned down and nuzzled her neck, "And have you come up with a way to remove the other obstacle to my plan?"

Eva smiled a wicked smile, "I have an idea of how to remove your problem, but I don't think we should discuss it here in your drawing room. Too many ears can hear..."

"The doors are locked and we're whispering," he chuckled.

"All the more reason to be careful," she responded. "If the guests aren't wondering why you are locked in here, the servants are and I'm certain they are all listening."

Parker pouted a moment, "I suppose I should get back to my guests..."

"We can meet tonight, my love," she replied, sashaying towards the doors, the movement of her body captivating him. "Remember, you must keep up the charade a little longer and don't forget the prize; you will bed the king's daughter AND still have me..."

Parker smiled, yes, life was good.

***

The Glorious One sat in the carriage with Jacob, watching as the scenery grew increasingly lush with each mile they travelled. He understood the silence in the coach, understood the resentment that Jacob felt at being exiled from the ones he loved, but there was a greater purpose and the Glorious One had to know, had to find out...

As he looked out the window, he noticed that the dust from the road was rising in small clouds towards the rear of the coach, the wheel creating the illusion of smoke. As he stared at it a moment more, the smoke began to take shape, twisting and turning as the Glorious One slipped into a trance.

The village was large, the market full of people running and screaming, desperate to get away. Turning he saw the creature, the sun reflecting off of its golden armor. It was throwing guards about like a wind tosses fallen leaves and then a man rode in and jumped off his horse. Drawing his sword, he began to battle the creature, a terrific and terrible bout and then the creature struck a heavy blow. The Glorious One knew no man could recover from the blow, but the man managed to thrust his sword at the creature and it screeched, a horrible noise, a deafening, terrifying sound and then both man and creature fell.

The Glorious One looked about as people streamed out of houses, past him, through him, all screaming, all lamenting, "He's dead, he's dead..." The village faded into smoke, the smoke twisting and untwisting until it appeared above a road, the road he was travelling on and he glanced at Jacob who looked at him seriously. It was obvious that Jacob had realized that he had fallen into a trance.

"What did you see, master?" he asked softly.

"A man will live," replied the Glorious One. "Something has happened...we are drawing nearer..."

"Nearer to what?" asked Jacob, confusion descending upon his features. "What man?"

The Glorious One shook his head, "It is ever changing, subtly, subtly changing. It might cease to be, but the price..." he closed his eyes.

"What master?" asked Jacob, completely confused. "What is changing?"

The Glorious One looked out at the dust as he answered Jacob, "Everything, Jacob. Everything is changing...we must pray that it changes for the better or we are all doomed..."

***

"He is impossible," ranted Parker, as Susan sat upon their bed, to him appearing annoyingly composed.

"He is a military genius, everyone says so," she replied in a bored voice. "You have to allow for eccentricities..."

"You have not been subjected to hours of explanations regarding roadways and routes," fumed Parker, pacing back and forth at the foot of their bed. "Would it not be easier to find someone younger..."

"Baron Fiskar has a special place in the history of Zambelia," replied Susan, rising and addressing him as if he were too simple to understand. "None of the younger warriors hold both his reputation and his influence amongst the nobility. Now in order for this to work, we must first remove the King..."

"I know the plan," snapped Parker. "Why do you treat me like a child?"

"Because you act like one," she replied, her tone cutting him sharply. "You wish to be King and are unwilling to do the work to make it happen. We need him, he does not need us and if we do not get him, it will be harder to get the nobles to rally around you. An invasion by a foreign army will bring out the patriotism in the nobility, we need someone who is well respected to call for the change in leadership and all will be well."

Parker eyed he angrily for a moment and then decided it was best to change the subject. He would not have to put up with her much longer and then there would be Annalisse...

"I noticed that the Earl of Langdom was paying you particular attention," he stated.

"He merely admired my necklace," she replied, taking a seat at her vanity and beginning to brush her hair.

"It looked like he was admiring your cleavage a great deal more than your necklace," he mumbled, striding to look out the window.

Looking down, he could see Lady Ellen in the garden, strolling with her idiot husband Wilton. He had an enormous dislike for Wilton, mostly because he always seemed to appear at the moment that Parker felt he was making some headway in getting Lady Ellen into bed.

"He did comment on it," replied Susan.

The words startled Parker into recoiling as he reeled about and stared at her.

"He commented on it?" he snapped.

"He spoke of envying my children that they might suckle at such magnificent breasts," she laughed. "Honestly, are all men such pigs..."

Parker stood fuming, "Why did you not..."

"I just did," she replied tauntingly, ignoring him as she brushed her hair. "And what will you do, Parker? Confront him? I doubt you have the ambition to defend your wife..."

Parker strode to her and pulled her upright, his anger growing.

"How dare he! How dare you!"

"Me?" asked Susan innocently. "What have I done?"

"You should have struck him! You should have notified me immediately!"

"I could not find you," she purred. "I also could not find Eva. I wonder if there was any connection between the two disappearances..."

Parker released her as if she were made of fire.

"You are my wife, I desire no other!"

Susan smiled and returned to her vanity.

"Very well, Parker, if you say so," she replied. "Still, I find it strange..."

Parker stared at her a moment more and then marched to his wardrobe and opened the door. Peering in, he found what he was looking for and removed it; a pair of white gloves.

"I will not be made a cuckold," he roared.

Susan watched as he strode out the door and slammed it behind him. She smiled as she continued brushing her hair. He would behave more accommodatingly now, she was certain. Occasionally she had to give him a chance to show his jealousy, even though she no longer believed he truly cared about her. No, they were allies for different purposes now, to Susan's mind, stronger purposes. Love had no part in her life, not for another human being anyway. She, did however, love herself and power...
Chapter 8

Albert leaned back in his chair and smiled. The meeting was being held in his study as to save him the trouble of walking down the hall to the King's study, another sign that his age was advancing more forcefully than he liked to admit. Ernest, Alex and Jonathan were all seated while Edward slid into a chair beside Albert, ready to offer any assistance.

"Prince Ernest, do you have anything to report?" began Albert.

"I have received word from Anthony that the preparations at the main pass are almost complete," began Ernest. "I have also received word from some of my sources regarding Parker..."

Ernest hesitated. He, like Alex, had fond memories of his time with Parker, watching the young man grow into a strong and loyal friend. Parker had married Lady Gertrude, who was like a sister to Ernest and the King and his fall after his marriage to Susan had been hard to watch.

"Go ahead, Ernest," stated Alex softly. "I am hoping I cannot be surprised any further..."

Ernest looked at the floor, "Parker has claimed another victim, Lady Tonya, Lord Ancrin's granddaughter..."

Jonathan gave a start of surprise, "Oh my..."

"She was rather fond of you at one point, was she not milord?" asked Edward.

Jonathan hesitated a moment before replying. While on his quest to find Lady Tara, the woman his father Robert had wronged, Lady Tonya had come to his room one evening wearing nothing but a cape, which she removed while proclaiming her undying love for him. Wilton and Randy had been present in the room, sleeping with him to act as company and his bodyguard, a fact he was grateful for because he would hate to think of the scandal such a thing might have provoked had it ever become known. The three friends had sworn to never speak of the incident with anyone else.

"She wrote me several times," demurred Jonathan. "I did not reply to her messages, I did not think it proper as she was engaged at the time..."

"Well, she is married now and unfortunately has written several times to the Lord Parker and he too has written, demanding compensation for his continued silence regarding their...activities," replied Ernest. With a shake of his head, he continued, "I have also heard that an invasion is planned in the next three to four months by our old friend King Tidon. All in all, adding in Annalisse' wedding, it has been a most eventful time."

Alex appeared to brood on his brother's report for a moment, but finally looked up at the others and sighed.

"Are the noble houses..."

"There are some aligned with Parker, but none of consequence," stated Ernest. "Most of his supporters are there to further various illegal activities and to enjoy free room and board. I have no great confidence that any of them will pose a serious threat if and when the time for his rebellion comes."

Alex considered it for a moment more and then, "Lord Chester and the other commanders have been notified of our progress and our plans?"

"All have been briefed and I have messengers awaiting dispatches with further orders once we are done here," stated Edward.

Alex stared at the floor for a moment. He glanced up at those assembled and then his eyes came to rest upon Jonathan.

"What do you think, Jonathan?"

Jonathan seemed surprised by the question.

"Think, Father?" he stammered. "In what sense..."

"Do you think we should arrest Parker now or wait until he actually insights a rebellion?" asked Alex softly.

Jonathan struggled with the idea for a moment before responding.

"I remember Lord Parker and Lady Gertrude when I arrived here, Father," he began quietly. "I know that Mother had some initial questions about Lady Gertrude, but other than Stasha, she never had a more loving or supportive friend. She was kindness itself to both Annalisse and I and Parker was like an older brother to me. I know that he was like a brother to you and Uncle Ernest and like a son to Albert..." he sighed. "I am afraid that the Parker we knew and loved is no more. I know that you do not like to judge others and that you have been praying with all of your heart that Parker would change his course, but as much as I wish it too, I cannot see it happening. This latest indiscretion, with Lady Tonya, is particularly offensive. I am not saying she was not a willing participant and from what I have known of her, while she is attractive, she is extremely easily manipulated and for him to take advantage of that in one so much younger than himself is disgusting. It points to a baseness that I had never thought he could reach, but I have no doubt that Uncle Ernest is telling the truth."

Jonathan looked up at his Father, "I know how much it pains you, Father; how it pains you and Albert and Uncle Ernest, how it pains Mother...I understand it, but I cannot condone waiting. The longer we wait, the more victims he and his wife will accumulate. I believe the time has come to act, no matter how distasteful the duty."

"We must also think of Jacob," said Albert. "I know we agreed that the Glorious One would mete out his punishment, but we are sending him into the heart of rebellion, a place no child on the verge of manhood should be sent. Think of the consequences of us arresting his father in front of him..."

"Perhaps that is the lesson that the Glorious One was hoping for him to see," interrupted Ernest. "Perhaps the lesson is that a bad course of action, entered into willingly, can only lead to bad results."

"It is possible," agreed Edward. "Personally, I could see no other reason for sending Jacob back to his father and step-mother at this time but to impress upon him some lesson. Maybe his father and step-mother's arrest IS the lesson."

Albert considered it.

"Perhaps I am thinking too sentimentally, sire," he conceded. "Parker was like one of my children and to see him falling in this manner is heartbreaking. We have been protecting Jacob from his father's actions since he was young and maybe Edward is correct, perhaps we have over protected him, I do not know. Jonathan has spoken the truth, if we delay there will only be more victims..."

"We could try to arrange the arrest in a way least damaging to Jacob," said Jonathan. "I have no wish to put him through more than he has been through already."

Alex nodded and looked up at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts. He spoke in a dull monotone and kept his eyes on the ceiling as he spoke.

"I will send Brogdan with a brigade to arrest Parker and Lady Susan for high treason. I will instruct him to wait until Jacob is not in the vicinity..."

"Lord Wilton is currently at Lord Parker's estate at my behest," stated Ernest. "We could instruct him to find a pretext on a given date to get Jacob out of the way so that the arrest can take place while he is not there."

Alex nodded, still not looking at the others.

"Very well. Send Wilton a message, have him take Jacob somewhere else. As soon as he does, Brogdan will make the arrests..."

"What about Lady Susan's other attributes?" asked Edward. "We know that she is capable in areas that a brigade and Brogdan cannot act against..."

"I have already spoken to the Glorious One regarding Lady Susan," stated Alex. "He has left the time of their arrest to me. He said that no harm would come to any man in that party when the time comes, but that we must be careful, for she may still use her magic against us."

"How is that possible if no harm will come to the men who go to arrest them?" asked Jonathan.

"I do not understand all that he says, but I trust him," replied Alex. "He has given us a weapon to be used against her that will nullify he magic and protect the men sent to arrest them. Brogdan will have to act carefully to place the weapon before they are arrested or things can go very badly, but the Glorious One has assured me that our men will be safe from her, which is all that I can ask for; in the meantime, let us prepare. Once Parker and Lady Susan are arrested, I am certain that King Tidon will launch his attack."

"Do you think he will, Alex?" asked Albert. "Perhaps us showing our hand by arresting Parker will give him second thoughts on the matter."

Alex shook his head, "Tidon has been anxious to avenge his loss against us. He will attack not in spite of being found out, but because he has been found out. He will think that he has to act quickly on Parker's information or all is lost. No, we will have a war on our hands, Albert. Please alert our commanders of the order to arrest Parker, we will have to face the consequences of our action, I am certain of it."

The men in the room remained silent. It would be yet another war...

***

Jacob looked about his Father's study and then back down at the floor. The Glorious One had left the carriage about three miles outside of town, claiming he had urgent business elsewhere, but Jacob knew better. The Glorious One was saving him from the additional humiliation of having a witness to this meeting. It was to be between him and his Father alone.

Jacob knew that his Father had no idea about his abilities and so a letter had been sent to Parker explaining that Jacob was being punished for a prank that had taken place. While Parker held Alex in low esteem, he remembered his time as a squire and was exceedingly proud of his accomplishments. Parker had been one of the few men ever knighted who had accumulated no demerits for his behavior as a squire and now his son had acquired a suspension!

"How could you?" intoned Parker, barely able to contain his fury. "You have disgraced our name with your hooliganism!"

"As opposed to the honor it has obtained through the actions of you and your wife," murmured Jacob sullenly.

Parker surprised him by lashing out and striking him across the face.

"Don't you dare compare your actions with mine!" he bellowed. "You come here in disgrace and try to act impudently! Well I have news for you, you have disgraced me for the last time! You will sleep in the stables until they take you back to Wharton, you will be treated like a hired hand, you can shovel dung and sleep in rags and straw! You are no son of mine!"

Jacob stared at him, unable to contain his hatred.

"I am only too glad to leave this house and to relinquish the title of YOUR son," he replied. "I will gladly sleep under the same roof with animals whose only crime is that they, like me, cannot escape you or your wife!"

"Get OUT!" snapped Parker. "GUARD!"

A burly guard in a dark uniform answered the summons, his face impassive, his bulk filling the doorway.

"Take this person out to the stables and give him to the stable master as a work man. Instruct him to treat him no differently than the others! He is not allowed in this house, do you understand?"

The man nodded, "Aye, milord."

"OUT!" screamed Parker, as Susan made her way into the room, a devious smile on her face.

"Oh, did I miss the homecoming?" she asked sarcastically.

Jacob ignored her as he stormed out, followed by the guard. Parker turned to her to continue his harangue but before he could speak, she held up a restraining hand.

"I have told you for years, Parker, that you coddled him and spoiled him. This is what you get for trying to compensate for his mother's death. Look at the gratitude he gives you." Sidling up to him, she kissed his neck, "I love it when you discipline the help..."

Parker was so angry he could barely speak.

Susan stepped back and smiled seductively, loosening her stays and letting her gown fall to the floor. Parker might wish to kill her to marry the Princess Annalisse, but she was still amazingly beautiful and his lust took over. Shucking his clothing, he grabbed her greedily and pulled her to him.

"Show me how you deal with disobedient servants," she murmured as he forced her onto the couch. Once he had released his lust, he would seek out Eva and find out when he could expect to enjoy her demise...

***

Anthony was certain that he had killed his horse, but he had finally caught his beloved wife at the home of Lord Spector. Spector's home was the second grand home that they were scheduled to visit on their journey back to Zambelia. Her husband's sudden appearance at dinner had delighted Annalisse as no other surprise could and her dimple smiled never diminished throughout the meal or during the evening's entertainment.

As soon as it was polite to do so, Annalisse and Anthony thanked their hosts and retired for the evening. Gaining their bedroom, Annalisse smiled an even more dazzling smile at her new husband and lowered herself onto a chair. Anthony was at her side in an instant, enraptured by her beauty.

"I cannot believe your pushed yourself so hard to get back to me," she smiled, leaning over and kissing him tenderly. "I love you so much..."

"I could not stand being away from you a moment more than was necessary," replied Anthony. "You are so beautiful tonight, my love, you enchanted everyone, they love you almost as much as I do."

Annalisse laughed, "I noticed no one but you, my darling husband. You barely ate, my love, you must be famished from your long ride..."

"No, my love," smile Anthony, taking her into his arms. "Who could think of food when you are about? You are the most beautiful, most breathtaking woman..."

"You are prejudice in the matter," replied Annalisse. Taking his face into her hands, she spoke softly to him, "You are the noblest man, the most handsome..."

"The best married," interrupted Anthony, "and certainly the luckiest."

He stared into her bright eyes then glanced at the golden cascades of her hair tumbling almost to her waist. Returning his attention to her face, he smiled at the enticing dimples of her smile and he kissed her passionately. They had been married only a short time and he could not believe that she desired him as much as he desired her.

For a long time, they kissed and held each other and then slowly, patiently, Anthony removed her clothing, his touch feeling magical against her skin. Annalisse could not believe the yearning she felt for him, she loved him more than she thought she was capable of loving anyone. It felt completely natural to be nude in his arms, to revel in his touch and then he lifted her and gently laid her upon their bed. She watched him now, staring unashamedly as he undressed, her desire for him growing, her need for him reaching a fevered pitch.

He lowered himself gently onto her as her arms wrapped firmly about his neck, pulling him to her, begging him with her body to fulfill her need for him. He was patient and gentle, his kisses setting her body aflame, his touch causing her to tingle and burn with desire. At last he entered her and she cried out as he increased his pace. Together their passion grew until unable to contain it any longer, she felt his release. It took her but a moment more to join him and the two lay, entwined in each other's arms, gasping gently, gently kissing and touch, gently holding one another.

"I never want to leave here," whispered Annalisse, "I never want to leave the love and protection I feel in your arms."

"I never want to release you, my love, my all," he murmured, kissing her lips and then her neck and then slowly descending to her breasts.

Annalisse felt the flame of desire within her springing to life. She prayed she would never sleep again.
Chapter 9

Mullins brooded quietly as he and his men sat perched on an overlook. Parker's love nest was set some hundred feet to their right and down at a sharp incline. He looked towards the guide in disgust.

"How the devil are we to get from here to there without falling into the ocean?"

The man looked far older than his years, his bald head and stooped body attesting to a dissipate life. He smiled an almost toothless grin and spoke in a raspy whisper as he pointed.

"It looks impossible, don't it, but it ain't," he stated, his eyes darting from one man to the other. "If you follow me over the edge there is a ledge that broadens, you'll see, you'll see..."

With a harsh chuckle, he moved to the edge and eased himself down about a foot before finding his footing. Slowly, he began to shuffle off to the right, slowly disappearing below the edge.

Mullins moved to the edge and blanched, peering down at the waves crashing viciously upon the rocks below. He glanced off to his right and saw the man moving downwards, the path ever widening but almost completely screened from view from the area of the cave.

With a slow swallow, Mullins eased himself over the side and his heart racing until his foot found the ledge. It was no more than a foot wide here and did not widen appreciably for another twenty feet. Slowly he shuffled to his right, holding onto the edge for as long as he possibly could, his men slowly following his example, joining him in a long line until each one was upon the path and headed down the path towards the cave. The distance was about two hundred meters before the entire group was once again packed together, this time on a small plateau about ten feet from the cave's entrance.

The guide smiled again, bobbing up and down as he spoke, "I told ye, I told ye, this is the way, no problem once you've done it, no problem now. You can climb to the top of the rock or wiggle down into the mouth of the cave, you can do either one, either one!"

Mullins saw a small path, something animals must use, he thought and began to climb up. He reached a perch above the cave entrance and was about to call out when he saw a young soldier standing on the far side of the cave entrance, his head nodding as he leaned against the cliff wall. So, Parker guarded the entrance on that side, but apparently had no idea that anyone could reach the entrance from this side. He smiled a most unpleasant smile; they had him!

Easing back down the path, he rejoined his men and nodded.

"We can take this path in the late afternoon, no one will see us," he muttered. "Once he's done with his fun and games, we'll kill him as he emerges."

"Hold a second, Mullins," stated one of his men. "What if he's got some high-born lady in there? I don't mind killing him, he needs killing, but if he's in there with a noble woman and we kill her, they'll be hell to pay!"

Mullins considered it but a moment.

"If she's in there with him, she's making a fool of her husband. Once they discover this place, they'll know what he was about, besides, they can only kill you once and you've got enough blood on your hands to satisfy them that you should be hung!" Peering at the others, he continued, "Any other questions?"

The men stared at him a moment, there was no use talking to Mullins when he was in this type of mood, besides what he said was just. If any of them were caught, they would hang.

"When?" asked one of the men.

"Three, four days," replied Mullins. "We've got to change out the horses, mine can't make the run we'll have to make to get out of here once the deed is done. We need to gather supplies and then have the horses ready as soon as we're ready to go."

The men nodded in agreement as Mullins looked out of the sea and began the long climb back up the narrow path. Once all of the men had made their way up, the guide approached Mullins, his eyes filled with greed.

"Did I not tell ye? Did I not?" He drew closer and said conspiratorially, "I've done my part, you know I've done my part, time for my reward, tis time!"

Mullin reached over and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragging him back to the path. With a shove, he sent the man over the edge, watching the mouth of the cave as the scream of the guide mixed with the sound of the waves below. The guard never stirred. Well, at least they knew that they would not be heard...

***

Morris stared down at the real Ragar and glanced at the Glorious One. He wanted to believe his master, truly he did, but he could hardly be blamed for being a bit skeptical. For almost two years, he had been converted by the Glorious One to appear as Ragar, King Tidon's spy and Parker's contact. He had helped to plan Parker's revolution, had supplied money and weapons and had given all of the information of his doings to the Lord Ernest as a double spy.

While he had been living Ragar's life as a spy and traitor, the real Ragar had been sleeping in a secured location known only to him and the Glorious One. His master had told him that everything he had done, everyone he had met, all he had said would be in Ragar's memory when he awoke, excepting the times he had spent either with the Glorious One or working as a double agent for Prince Ernest.

Even though Morris had once been a powerful wizard, he could not help but feel that this entire thing was perhaps even more than the Glorious One could accomplish.

"So, you're saying that he will have no idea that he's been asleep?"

The Glorious One smiled, "I have given him all of your memories, save the ones that would be inconvenient for him to know about, such as you being a spy for Lord Ernest and your allegiance to me. He will wake thinking he has been ill and we have been taking care of him and then he will leave to finish your work, or should I say, his work."

"You mean, the time has come for..."

"I mean that we can interfere no further," replied the Glorious One. "You sent the two letters I instructed you to send?"

Morris nodded, "I still don't understand it but I sent the one to get the Duke of Rectra informing him of my return by the fastest way I know how and I sent the second message as you instructed me, but for the life of me I can't imagine why. It will take forever to get to him..."

"But he will be none the wiser to that fact and when it arrives, it will cause events that must take place." The Glorious One shook his head, "I hate to be a party to that, but we have interfered to the point that we must counterbalance some of what we have done. I pray that our actions..." he shook his head and spat on the floor in disgust.

"Is there nothing else we can do?" asked Morris quietly, noting his master's distress.

"From here on out, all we can do is pray that Donna's vision will not take place, but we have to face both the facts, our responsibilities and our limitations. We have done all that we can..."

"So, what of me?" asked Morris. "Now that I'm not him, who or what shall I be?"

The Glorious One gave a slight frown, "For now, you will be my son. We live here and he had fallen ill with fever, we took him in and he is now ready to go."

"What will be my name?" asked Morris.

"I will call you by your given name," smiled the Glorious One. "You will call me Father. Now stand back and let me change you..."

Without waiting the Glorious One made a slight gesture and Morris felt himself shifting and changing until he was once again himself. He touched his chest and made his way towards the mirror, surprised to see his own visage staring back to him. He had not looked into a mirror and seen his own reflection in quite some time. Touching his face, he stared for a moment.

With a laugh he proclaimed, "Well look at that! My God, I haven't seen you in sometime, how are you, old boy?" He patted his face and then turned to the Glorious One.

The Glorious One gestured for him to follow and the two men went to a table in the middle of the cave upon which lay a man sleeping soundly. The Glorious One waved his hand over the man's face and slowly his eyes opened.

"Awake at last," smiled the Glorious One. "Morris, our friend is awake at last!"

Ragar looked up, uncertain of his surroundings. Staring at the Glorious One, he grimaced, "What's this all about?"

"You've been ill, friend, very ill," stated the Glorious One. "You came staggering in, burning with fever and raving. We finally got you settled down, thank God the doctor was nearby, he came straight away; Glandadular Fever, he said, it's been going around!"

"Glandadular Fever?" repeated Ragar, "I've never heard of it!"

"They think you get it from drinking in the streams about Knowlington, were you up that way per chance?"

Ragar thought back, "Aye, about a week ago as I recall..."

"You got some bad water then," nodded Morris. "They have outbreaks there all the time, they should have warned you."

"What's the cure?" asked Ragar.

"There isn't one," replied the Glorious One. "You just have to sleep through it."

"You rave a bit and run a fever and then you sleep and then you're fine," agreed Morris. "How do you feel?"

Ragar stared at them suspiciously, "Right as rain, though I could eat a horse..."

"Well then, let us have something to eat," smiled the Glorious One. "Your gear is here and your horse is resting in the barn..."

"My horse drank from the stream..." began Ragar.

"Not to worry," smiled Morris, "it doesn't effect animals. Oddest thing..."

Ragar rose and joined them at table for lunch. It all seemed so odd, but they were so friendly and convivial that he soon accepted the fact that they were merely friendly men who prided themselves on doing good for others. It was an hour or so after lunch that he bade them farewell and with many thanks, found himself riding towards his destiny far to the north. He felt he should be going to report to King Tidon about the latest information he had received from Parker in person for some reason, why he could not say, but the feeling was overwhelming. It would be good to get back home again, yes, he needed to go back to Darma.

***

Brogdan took a chair opposite the King and Queen in the private room that lay behind their thrones in the audience chamber. He noted the sadness in the Queen's eyes and did his best to be sympathetic. He would wed in another few weeks to his beloved Tara if all went well and he hoped that he could accomplish all that the royal couple were asking him to do.

"Your men are ready?" asked Alex softly.

"Yes, sire, at your command," replied Brogdan.

Alex nodded and looked at Marie who returned his nod and spoke, "Lord Wilton will send you a message to tell you when he and Jacob are out of the way. Once you receive that message, you are to immediately take your brigade and surround the estate, no one is to leave or to enter. You will make them a present of the amulet we have given you and once Parker has placed it upon his wife, you are to arrest Lord Parker and Lady Susan."

"You are to make certain that Lady Susan is never left alone with anyone," stated Alex. "Under no circumstances is she to be guarded by less than three men and she and Parker are to be kept separate. The Glorious One assures us that she will be unable to remove the amulet once it is upon her, but she will try to get others to do it for her. Only the Glorious One can remove it, so do not fear, but you must be extremely careful Brogdan. Finally, do not forget that Parker is just as dangerous as she is: you will be in danger until they are safely locked up here for trial."

"I will do all that your majesties command," replied Brogdan.

Alex grimaced, "You must understand Brogdan, but you are not to share this with your men. Lady Susan is a sorceress and capable of great mischief..."

"Then you mean to say Lord Parker," began Brogdan with relief.

"No," replied Marie softly. "She has not used her powers upon her husband. He has committed treason because of his own decisions."

Brogdan looked at the floor, "My apologies your majesties. I had hoped..."

"We all had hoped, Brogdan," replied Alex, "but Parker has...changed. If his guards attempt to engage you, show no quarter. You will outnumber them by a good margin and you are a skilled warrior and commander..."

"We will deal with any eventuality, sire," replied Brogdan.

"Remember, Jacob is in no way to be involved in this," stated Marie. "It will be hard enough for him afterwards..."

"I will remember your majesty," replied Brogdan.

"We have heard of your impending nuptials," stated Marie, forcing a smile. "I hope that once this is all over with, you and Lady Tara will have many happy years together."

Brogdan smiled at the mention of his beloved's name, "I pray it will be so, milady."

"We will speak of it when you return," smiled Alex. "As my love has said, after all of this is over..."

Brogdan could feel the pain in his master's voice, wanted to comfort him in some way, but there were no words he could think of to say to ease his misery.

"I will do my best, milord," he replied.

Alex reached over and clapped him on the shoulder, "I know you will, Brogdan. I know you will..."
Chapter 10

The Duke of Rectra looked at the correspondence he had received from Ragar and grimaced. Coming home? Whatever for? Had the King indicated a time frame for his attack against Zambelia to Ragar? No, how could he? Was it possible that Ragar had heard something? Scanning the note again, he found nothing indicating a clue in that direction. No, Ragar was headed back for some other reason.

Shaking his head, he glanced at the latest figures for the troops. His office suddenly felt colder than normal, the bare stone walls seemingly unable to retain the heat of the fire no matter how brightly it burned. A feeling of dread seemed to pervade the whole world today, but Rectra could not place his finger on the reason he felt this way. Was it that the treasury was being drained at a frightening rate by the mounting expense of keeping an army in the field doing nothing took? He had seen the King's last orders, the shifting of troops from the Eastern passes near Zambelia to the Central passes of Gronolo. He had also seen the latest figures showing that there would be food shortages long before the winter was done. Win or starve, what a wonderful motto for the troops to fight by.

The entire scenario bothered him, perhaps that was why he felt the way he felt. Something was not right about this entire thing, mused Rectra, but what? He had known in his heart that the King would never honor his agreement with Parker, but he had expected something a bit more subtle than outright betrayal, at least initially. Leaning back in his chair his mind grappled with a million pieces that did not seem to fit, and now Ragar was headed back with no indication of why he was returning, it was another strange piece of a puzzle that seemed to have no end.

The Duke nestled back in his chair and closed his eyes. More than once he had contemplated slipping a dagger in between the King's ribs, but he knew he would never do it. Rectra had been trained as a diplomat and while he had perhaps never been the most successful of diplomats, he had always harbored a desire to use diplomacy to settle issues. His ambitions along those lines had been thwarted, first by the King's father and now by Tidon. He was, in fact, revolted by the King's love of blood, in his growing fascination with torture and death. He shook his head; Lord Cailin was a bad influence on a bad king, they both sought conquest and blood.

He thought back to the time when he had been raised to his current office by the King's father. In the early years, he had delighted in trying to bring peace to the kingdom and advantages to Darma through negotiation and intelligence. Tidon's father had been a stubborn, loud and crude man, but he never was aggressive and had tried to live with his neighbors in peace. His great failing had been his isolationism, his distrust of anyone who was not of his own tribe or blood. Rectra had worked hard to negotiate treaties for years only to watch the fruits of his labor wither and die on the vine as the king refused to sign agreement after agreement.

When Tidon first ascended the throne, he had tried to explain his father's failure to him, had tried to encourage him to engage the world about them, but as time went on, he had begun to listen to people who had their own best interests at heart. Soon they were at war, the idea of negotiation lost to the lust for conquest. Yes, he had once had hoped for Tidon, thinking that he might be more enlightened than his father, but he had gone from being a disappointment to becoming a terror. Another war, he mused, how many people must he kill to be satisfied?

The thought bothered Rectra often, it haunted his waking hours and turned his dreams into nightmares. He was not afraid to die, but he did not want his family to suffer, so he soldiered on in the King's service. With a shake of his head, he returned his thoughts to the figures in front of him. More expenditures, more expenditures... Why was Ragar coming back? What did he know? Why was the room so damn cold?

***

Stasha stepped through the large opening that led to the kitchen and could not ignore how odd it all seemed. The kitchen was usually bustling with activity, was one of the busiest places in the entire castle, but all she could hear was someone sobbing. The young girl who had summoned her turned back to her, the look of a bewildered child in her young features.

"I found her on the floor, milady," stated the frightened girl. "She's been like that since I went to fetch you, I didn't know what to do!"

Stasha moved past the frightened girl and the kitchen staff who stood about the woman in a circle and moved to the old woman curled up on the floor. The woman lay in a fetal position, crying and rocking. Stasha thought back, Eileen, Elizabeth, no, Ellen, her name was Ellen. She was one of Pauline's servants, she had arrived this morning with Jonathan and his bride.

"Go fetch the doctor," she said to one of the girls. Pointing to another, she said, "Go and get me some water and a towel, quickly now!"

The two girls scampered to obey her orders as she looked up and sought out two of the men in the group.

"Peter, you and William, pick her up, place her in that chair," commanded Stella. "Gently now, gently. Did you see anything?"

"Nothing, milady," Peter responded. "I was working when Trina let out a cry and I turned and found her just as you see her."

Together with William, he bent down and gently moved Ellen to a chair. Standing beside her on either side, they remained, ready to assist if she should slide from her perch.

Ellen sat in the chair, rocking slightly, her face covered in tears, shaking and incoherent.

The girl returned with the water and towel and Stasha quickly immersed the cloth in the water and then gently touched it to Ellen's face, wiping away the stains the tears had made. She looked into the old woman's face and spoke in soothing tones.

"What is it dear?" she said in a gentle voice. "Are you in pain?"

"I DON'T WANT TO KILL HER!" yelled Ellen, so suddenly that the group leapt back. "I NEVER WANTED TO KILL HER!"

"Kill who?" snapped Stasha.

"The Princess," whispered Ellen. "Why should I kill her? She is good and kind, I don't want to kill her. I never wanted to be part of it, I know that now..." Staring about at the walls she began to giggle, "It's this place, THIS PLACE!" She did not understand that Donna's spell had counteracted Susan's magic and that for the first time in years, she was no longer under her mistress' control. She was Ellen again, the proud, strong woman who had served the Count of Keneon, who knew that he never had a child! She remembered, remembered everything now, not as Susan had told her it was, but as it actually had been.

The burden removed, she threw her arms wide she laughed, the others gathered about her looking on in astonishment. "I don't care what you do to me, I don't care if you believe me or even if you execute me! I didn't want to have any part of it, I hate her, I never loved her!"

"Loved who?" asked Stasha, dabbing the cloth on Ellen's brow. "You must calm down..."

"I haven't been calm in years, not until I came here," replied Ellen, smiling at the solid walls of Wharton. "She did it to me, the evil one!"

"Who did what to you?" asked Stasha. "What do you mean about hurting Pauline? Did you try to do something to Pauline?"

Ellen shook her head, "No, milady, I never did, I never tried to hurt that dear, sweet girl. She wanted me to hurt her, but I couldn't do it, God be praised! She's so kind, so sweet...and then, when we came here...my mind cleared and I understood!" Dropping to her knees, she grasped Stasha about the waist and cried out, "Please don't make me go back, please!"

Stasha looked at the others and pointed to one of the girls, "Go and get the Princess Pauline and bring her here immediately! I need to see that she is alright!"

The girl curtsied and ran. Looking at the others assembled about her, she called out, "Go, get the Lord Albert immediately, go!" The group ran out as one, leaving Stasha with Ellen still clutching her waist.

A moment later, the first girl returned with the doctor close behind.

"Whatever is the matter?" asked the doctor, looking down at the woman sobbing.

"I don't know," said Stasha firmly, "but we're going to find out!"

***

Brogdan looked back at the brigade as they marched along the royal road headed south. He knew that the King had supplied him with some of the finest fighters in Zambelia and tried not to think of the responsibility he was undertaking. Alex was trusting him to arrest Parker and Susan and while the men under his command thought that Parker was the greater danger, he knew the truth of the matter. He had been given an amulet that Alex had received from the Glorious One. It was to be placed around Susan's neck and it would negate her powers.

He thought back to his instructions; he was to wait until Wilton signaled him that Jacob would be out of the way and then he was to arrive, alone, to deliver a message to Parker, a false invitation to Wharton for a tournament. He was also to present a present to the Lady Susan, the amulet and once she had placed it about her neck, he was to signal his men and make his arrests. It all seemed so straight forward, but he still had reservations.

Brogdan, like most men of his time, had a healthy fear of magic, especially dark magic. It had been dark magic that had almost killed Alex. It was black magic that had almost killed the late Sultan of Chanra and there had been reports of black magic causing deaths in what had once been the kingdom of Vesek. Black magic could even control dragons and as Brogdan thought of the small amulet in the box in his saddle bags, he found his confidence waning. Still, if the King said it was so, it must be so.

He thought of Parker and could not contain his disgust. He had enjoyed a charmed life until now and had thrown it all away, why would a man do that? Brogdan was not a philosophical man; he had a warrior's appreciation of life and how it was lived, something he thought he shared with Parker.

He was surprised to find his thoughts turning to Tara, his beloved fiancé. He thought of the things he had heard Parker had done to his marriage vows, thought of how Parker had always been perceived as the model of knightly honor. If a man like that could fail in his vows...No! He stopped himself immediately and took a deep breath. He loved Tara and nothing would induce him to stop loving her, she was all that he wanted, he desired nothing else.

He glanced back at the men in the column behind him. There was Struggs, an uglier man would be hard to find and he thought of Struggs' wife, certainly no fair damsel by any stretch of the imagination. Yet they had been married for over twenty years, had children and a home and still loved one another. He thought of Strugg's wife, how sad she looked whenever they went off, of how she wept as her ugly husband marched off for king and country. Parker might have lived a charmed life, but perhaps Struggs was the more charmed of the two. He would never have Parker's wealth or influence, his wife would never be considered one of the great beauties of the kingdom, he would not receive honors from the King perhaps, but he had found a true and loving wife and what greater wealth could a man hope for?

No, Parker had crumbled after the death of Lady Gertrude, thought Brogdan. He had allowed his grief to distort his understanding of the world. The one time his life had not been charmed, had not been all that he had thought it should be made him throw away his life for treason. Was that how it was? Brogdan was not certain, could not be sure, but then again, he reasoned, that was not his job.

Parker's journey had included many good companions, but he had abandoned them all. Now Brogdan would be one of Parker's final companions. They would travel the road together for a short distance and then they too would part ways. He would go on to serve his King and marry his beloved Tara and Parker would go on to be executed and his lands seized by the crown. Brogdan looked out at the long road ahead and sighed; it was easy to get lost when one left the high road. Parker had left the high road and would never return to it again...
Chapter 11

"Your husband is asking that you join him in garden, milady," stated the servant girl, eyeing Wilton's wife with barely disguised amusement.

All the staff knew of Parker's advances towards her, knew that she was the next one he was seeking to enjoy. The women who worked for Parker and Susan were all wise beyond their years and women like Ellen amused them immensely. Was she really so stupid as to think that no one knew?

"My husband?" asked Ellen, completely flustered, "Uh, no, no, tell him I have a headache, I cannot come to him now, I am resting. Tell him that I cannot be disturbed for any reason."

The girl hesitated a moment as Ellen turned back to her reflection in the mirror. Feeling her eyes upon her, Ellen wheeled on her in anger.

"GO!"

The girl curtsied and made a bee line for the door.

"And make certain that he understands that he is not to disturb me, do you understand?" she snapped as the girl opened the door.

"I will tell him, milady," replied the girl as she slid out the door and into the hallway, barely able to conceal her laughter.

Ellen sat at the dresser in the room that she was occupying, which sat next to the one Wilton had been given. She always insisted on separate rooms when they travelled, she did not like to share her space with anyone and now she needed her space more than ever.

It had happened so quickly and unexpectedly that she could scarcely recover from the shock of it. Susan had taken Baron what's his name for a walk about the gardens and Parker had invited her out for a stroll along a path near the ocean. They had been walking and talking of many things, unimportant things, just speaking to pass the time.

They had walked into a stand of trees through which a small path led to a lovely view of the ocean below the cliffs. It was there that Parker had told her of his fascination with her, of his undying love for her. She had been shocked; he was married to the Lady Susan, to the most beautiful woman in the kingdom and her good friend. At first, she had demurred, how could he say such things, as flattering as they were, to her, his wife's good friend? But the more he spoke, the more sincere he seemed to become, the more ardent the tone of his voice.

As beautiful as Susan was, he declared, she could not compare to Ellen, her youth, her beauty, her style and grace. He had spoken of how beside Ellen, Susan was a washer woman, nothing. The most beautiful woman in the kingdom was nothing compared to her and this from the woman's own husband! When he held her, she could not doubt his sincerity and then he had kissed her, there with the ocean pounding furiously upon the rocks below.

In that instance, she knew that she loved him; he saw her for what she truly was, he was a man that truly understood her! He was so handsome and dashing and spoke so beautifully, it only made sense that they would be together.

His words were correct, had merely confirmed what she had begun to believe all along. She HAD surpassed Susan, both in beauty and in style. It could not be doubted that she WAS the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. That truth revealed, did she not deserve a truly handsome and dashing husband? Did they not belong together?

After they had kissed for a time, he had sat her down and explained how one day, he would be king and that she alone was worthy to be his queen and it all made such perfect sense. He had questioned her thoroughly; Did she really think that someone like Pauline should be the next Queen? Did she really think that someone as simple as Jonathan, who proclaimed his love for such an unattractive woman should become King? While she did not quite understand how Parker would become king, she understood that the king should be married to the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, it was what nature intended. Still, she was married to Wilton and Parker was married to Susan so how could it be? Parker said that it could be arranged and said that once Wilton and Susan were no longer in the picture, they would be wed.

She thought of him, his broad shoulders and beautiful blonde hair, his strong hands and slender waist. Her disgust grew; how could she have married Wilton? What had possessed her to marry a man who would never be as beautiful as she was? She was too sympathetic, she told herself, yes, she had seen how hopelessly in love he was with her and out of pity had married him. It was the only reason a person as beautiful as she was would marry a man so far beneath her, a man as undashing and unbecoming as Wilton.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"I told you I did not wish to be disturbed!" she snapped.

The door opened slightly and male servant's head peered around the door.

"I apologize milady," he whispered, "but I was instructed by Lord Parker to deliver this note to you immediately and let nothing stop me."

Ellen jumped from the vanity and ran to the door, grabbing the note from the startled man's hand.

"Go, go and make certain that no one sees you," she whispered as the man receded back into the hallway.

The man smiled as he gently closed the door behind him. He had delivered many such notes for his master and it never ceased to amaze him that these women thought they were alone in attracting Lord Parker's attention.

Running back to her vanity, Ellen opened the envelope and stared at the letter, forcing herself to calm down and read it slowly.

MY DARLING DEAREST,

HOW I LONG TO EMBRACE YOU YET AGAIN, TO HOLD THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF WOMEN IN MY ARMS FOR EVEN A MOMENT MORE. HOW COULD IT BE THAT THE FULFILLMENT OF MY DEEPEST DESIRES IS FULFILLLED, THAT YOU LOVE ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU.

PLEASE, MY DEAREST, MEET ME TOMORROW AFTER LUNCH IN THE STAND OF TREES WHERE I PROCLAIMED MY HEART TO YOU TODAY. DO NOT FAIL ME, MY LOVE, DO NOT REJECT ME. FINALLY DEAREST, DESTROY THIS LETTER SO THAT NONE MAY EVER KNOW OF OUR PLANS. I BEG YOU, MY DEAREST, DO ALL THAT I ASK,

FOREVER AND ETERNALLY YOURS, P

Ellen held the letter to her breasts and found she had forgotten to breath. Wilton had never written her a letter such as this, he had no soul, no passion. No, she belonged with Parker; Parker would make the whole world right. She would be queen, not Pauline. She would rule, the most beautiful woman as queen as it had meant to be from time immemorial. I will be there my love, she thought. Kissing the paper, she felt the tears rising in her eyes. She would be there...

Grasping a candle, she lit the paper on fire and watched it burn and crumble as she threw it into the fire grate. It was like her previous life, crumbling and destroyed. All she wanted was Parker, Parker would make the world right...

***

Jacob trudged back into the barn and dropped the bucket of water upon the floor, causing most of it to splash out onto the ground. The horse in the stall beside him looked at him as if to say, "Well, that was clumsy of you.".

Jacob regarded his companion for a moment and then laughed, "Even when you disapprove of me, you're still better company than those in the house."

"I will take care of that, milord," stated a quiet voice behind him.

Jacob turned to see the stablemaster's son, Franz, shyly walking towards him. He remembered Franz, they had grown up together at his father's home. Franz was maybe ten years older than he was and had always been someone in the background of his life, hovering just beyond the fringe. For a moment, Jacob had the odd thought that Franz was like the Princess Pauline, someone so quiet and unobtrusive that you never remembered them being here until they were not.

"It is alright, Franz, I am supposed to be working, remember," laughed Jacob. "I get to clean the hay as well as sleep in it." He glanced up at the loft where he spent his nights. "I would rather sleep there and do this than be at a party in the house, believe me."

Franz stifled a short laugh that caught Jacob's attention; he could not remember having heard Franz laugh before, how odd.

"Did I amuse you?" he asked.

Franz shrugged and looked at the ground, "You reminded me of your mother just then..."

Jacob's eyes grew serious, "How? How did I remind you of my mother?"

Franz backed away slightly, "I meant no harm, milord..."

"You did no harm," replied Jacob, trying to remain calm. "I just don't remember her..." The words died quietly, the only sound that of the horse as it stepped back in its stall.

"I'm sorry, milord," replied Franz, almost whispering. "I just remember...I was young then, helping my father...Your mother, she loved horses. She was such a beautiful woman it was a surprise to see how much she loved to be near them and care for them. It was...unexpected...you understand?"

"Yes," said Jacob quietly.

"She was in the barn one day, brushing down her horse after a run. It was a newer pony, still very playful and as she turned to dip her brush in the water, the horse pushed her with his head," Franz made the motion with his own head. "It knocked her off balance and she fell to the floor. My father was mortified and jumped up and quickly helped her to her feet and she told him she would rather have been knocked down by the horse than be trampled by some of the noblemen she danced with on the dance floor."

Franz smiled uneasily as he looked at Jacob, who stared at him for a moment.

"You remember her," said Jacob.

"I will never forget her," stated Franz. "If you will forgive me saying so, milord, she was the most beautiful woman who ever lived."

Jacob smiled, "I have seen her portrait..."

"No portrait ever did her justice, milord," replied Franz. "Also, her heart was even more beautiful than she was outside...I'm sorry if I speak too much...she was kind to me, milord..." He flapped his hands at his sides awkwardly. "I suppose we should clean up in here..."

Jacob nodded, "Yes, I suppose we should...and thank you, Franz. Please, never stop...never stop telling me about her...please..."

Franz looked down as he picked up a broom, "I will never stop, milord...I won't..."

***

The carriage containing Annalisse and Anthony rode swiftly along the highway, their escort growing as they passed villages on their way back to Wharton.

"Are you excited to see your parents once again, my love?" asked Anthony.

"Of course," smiled Annalisse. "I have never been separated from them this long before, my love. But I also miss our home as well. Are you sorry that you married someone who will make you travel so much?"

Anthony laughed, "I will carry you myself if it makes you happy..."

Annalisse giggled, "I appreciate the offer and I might take you up on it later tonight."

Anthony offered her a sly smile, "I will keep you to that promise..."

"I never promised," she corrected him, "I said I might..."

Anthony drew her into his arms and kissed her, feeling the press of her body against his own. With a sigh, he wrapped her in his arms and held her close to him.

"You are exquisite my love," he murmured. He frowned slightly as he felt the carriage beginning to slow.

A rider appeared beside the window, "The King's Guard is on the road ahead, milord and headed this way."

Anthony released Annalisse and stuck his head out the window. He could just make out a group of horsemen ahead, his men drawing to a halt before the group. After a moment, a horseman in full armor approached the carriage on a splendid mounted and made his way to the side of the carriage.

"Milord, your royal highness," he intoned, bowing in his saddle, "I am Captain Meade of his majesty's royal guard."

Annalisse looked out the window and laughed, "We know who you are, Captain Meade. How are you and how is your dear wife?"

Meade smiled at Annalisse, happy to dispense with the formalities, "My wife is well, milady and wishes you and your bridegroom every happiness."

"Tell that good lady that her wishes have been fully answered," smiled Anthony, squeezing Annalisse tightly. "We have yet another day to Wharton, have we not?"

"His majesty has instructed me to escort you to his villa at Lake Entron this evening and then on to Wharton tomorrow," replied Meade. "He is most anxious to see you both."

"Both?" asked Anthony with a smirk.

"I assure you, milord, BOTH!" laughed Meade. "Though you cannot blame him for being a little partial to his own daughter..."

"How is mother and Jonathan and Pauline?" asked Annalisse.

"Your entire family sends their well wishes and begs me to speed you on your journey home to them," smiled the Captain. "Now, with your leave, I will return to my men and hopefully get you to Wharton as quickly as possible tomorrow!"

"Lead on, Captain," smiled Anthony.

The captain saluted and made his way back to the front of the column. Soon the King's Guards were riding besides Anthony's guards and the entire group was making its way quickly along the road.

"At this rate, we will be back at Wharton by tonight," laughed Annalisse.

"You have missed home, have you not?" asked Anthony.

Annalisse looked at him thoughtfully, "I am home, my love. Where ever you are is my home and I desire no other..."

Anthony kissed her again, anxious to carry her to their bed tonight...
Chapter 12

The morning found the Baron Fiskar dropping heavily into a coach as Susan and Parker made extravagant speeches of thanks and eternal friendship before their gathered group of lackeys. The Baron had agreed to travel to the area where Parker's forces were encamped and take charge of their training. It had been agreed that the Baron would create an overall military plan on how to overthrow the King while Parker and Susan would handle the political aspects of the revolt. Due to his age, Parker would command in the field while the Baron observed the proceedings from a distance, both men prepared to drive their army to victory. With a salute, Fiskar was on the road and headed for his new destination as supreme commander of the rebellion.

Several miles from the outskirts of the village the road forked, the troops the Baron was to mold into the army of rebellion to be found some ten miles down the road of the right fork. The Baron's carriage, however, moved swiftly down the fork on the left and travelled about four miles before coming to halt at an inn, the Hogs Head Tavern.

The Baron heaved himself from his place in the carriage and lumbered into the inn, his mustache bristling and his mood foul. Entering the room, he noted how the talking grew quieter and he peered about the place until he found the reason for his stopping. Moving heavily to the table at which the man sat, he lowered himself into a chair as the barmaid made her way to the table.

"Ale," snapped Fiskar.

"For me as well," stated the younger man with a slight smile.

Fiskar waited for the woman to leave before speaking, "I trust that your journey was a good one..."

"I followed your excellency's suggestion and took the southern road," smiled the man. "It was, as you said it would be, much easier and more enjoyable."

Fiskar nodded his approval as his ale was placed before him and he took a sip.

"Damn roads are nothing but dust," he grumbled.

"Well, I appreciate your work, milord, and I am certain that his majesty does as well," replied the man.

"Tell me, Edward, how long has this been going on?" asked the Baron intently. "She tried to do what Prince Ernest said she would do, she tried to get me alone so that she could induce me with her magic. My man Rogers was with me the entire time, never left my side much to her anger. Still, once I said I would train and lead their rebellion, she made no further attempts."

"I am glad to hear of it, milord," replied Edward. "I trust that the Lord Ernest's preventative would have stopped her magic, but avoiding black magic is the best way to deal with it in my opinion."

"I can give you all the names," stated Fiskar. "I would have made a list myself, but I considered it imprudent. In such a place, who knows who is looking through one's luggage?"

"I am certain that when Sir Brogdan and the troops arrive, the list will be most useful in rounding up the malcontents," replied Edward, sipping his drink and encouraging the Baron to do the same. "What do you think of their forces?"

The Baron laughed dismissively, "If I know Brogdan he will have the field cleared in a half an hour if they do not surrender immediately. A band of cutthroats and thieves, not a decent soldier amongst them."

"Do you think they will surrender without a fight?" asked Edward.

The Baron stuck out his heavy lower lip defiantly, "There is no loyalty there, Edward, none. They are paid mercenaries of the worst type. They'll bleed Parker dry before they bleed for him or his cause. If you gave me ten good men, I'd go and arrest them now myself!"

The door to the inn opened and a large man in uniform entered, scanned the room and proceeded to the Baron's table. With a bow, he spoke to the two men in a low tone.

"Milords, Commander Brogdan sends his compliments..."

"Here, so soon?" asked Edward.

"The head of the column lies half a mile beyond the village, milord," replied the messenger.

Edward nodded as he opened the satchel on his hip and removed a quill, a bottle of ink and some parchment.

"Have a seat with us while the Baron dictates a list that we need to send to the commander," stated Edward. "I will take down the list and any other information you wish to forward, Baron Fiskar and then you must get this information to Commander Brogdan immediately."

"Oh," snapped the Baron suddenly, "I almost forgot..." Reaching into his inner tunic, he pulled out a piece of paper, "Give this to the Commander as well. It is a message from Lord Wilton, he will have Lord Jacob out of the home this afternoon."

"If we hurry, we can have the entire affair settled by this evening," stated Edward as he eyed the Baron and poised his pen above the paper. "And now, milord, those names..."

***

"She will be perfect to add to your collection," laughed Eva. "I am surprised that when the wind passes her left to right her head does not whistle..."

Parker laughed, "I thought it would be more difficult, but she surrendered immediately. I've never seen anyone throw off their wedding vows with so little trouble. Her father controls many of the ship yards and her husband's family is quite well to do. She will be able to supply us with a good deal of money and influence. Now tell me," he said, pulling her closer, his hands roaming freely about her body, "did you find the man we were looking for?"

"He is on his way to do the deed," purred Eva. "Anthony will be dead before you know it..."

"And my wife?" asked Parker.

A knock at his study door caused them both to freeze.

"Yes?" called out Parker, "Who is it?"

"Parker, why is this door locked?"

Parker swallowed hard and tried to fight his nerves.

"I did not want to be interrupted by one of the guests while I was working on some correspondence with the Baron, my love," he replied, searching the room to find a place to hide Eva.

"Well, open the door, I need to speak with you," replied Susan.

Parker grimaced and then eyed the sofa, motioning her to take a position on the floor behind it. Eva reached down and squeezed him before offering a light laugh and sashaying to the back of the couch and disappearing behind it. Parker made his way to the door and unlocked it.

Susan flowed into the room and motioned him to close the door, which he did immediately.

"There has been word that a group of the king's soldiers were spotted several miles from here," she stated. "I do not believe that they will intercept the Baron, but you might want to send out a few guards to make certain that he made it to the camp alright."

"Really, my love," smiled Parker, "I am certain that the Baron could handle a few soldiers. They would never dare to make inquiries of him, can you imagine THAT conversation?"

Susan grimaced for a moment and then conceded the argument.

"When do you think you will go out and check on him?" she asked softly. "Our commanders should be introduced to him formally..."

"I have sent a letter of instruction with him that takes care of all of that," stated Parker, trying to position himself between Susan and the couch.

"What are you doing, Parker?" she snapped, pushing past him and sitting down upon the couch. "You seem very uneasy; is there someone else here?"

He gasped as she looked over the back of the couch and continued speaking, "Now is not the time to be nervous; if you are to become King, you must not show your nerves."

Parker peered over the back of the couch and did not see Eva. She must have slid beneath the sofa, he decided, gingerly lowering himself upon the sofa beside his wife.

"I believe Parker,' continued Susan, "that your plans are coming together, finally..."

"I am not sure yet," confessed Parker, realizing that the one part of his plan that he needed to happen most, her death, had not been confirmed yet.

"You must act, Parker," replied Susan. "These are the anxious hours, just before we take the great steps forward." She gave him a sultry glance, "You are tense Parker, let me help you ease your tension..."

He watched as she began to remove her clothing. As he took her into his arms, Susan could not completely suppress her smile; they would make love on the couch and Eva would have to suffer below them the entire time. Yes, she would be particularly boisterous. She had already decided that Eva needed to be removed prior to the revolution. Parker could not stand the distraction now and she had served her purpose, it was time for her influence to end.

***

"I cannot accompany you, milord," replied Jacob. "If my Father finds out..."

"I have his permission," lied Wilton. "He wants you to come with me."

Jacob frowned in his confusion, "He does?"

"I asked him specifically if he would allow it and he said to take you along, just not to mention it to anyone, especially the Lady Susan. He thought that you could be of help on our little expedition," replied Wilton. "I will pick you up after lunch and we will go."

Jacob frowned, "I appreciate your request, Lord Wilton, but I do not think that I will be good company for you or your good lady wife and I do not have any clean clothes to speak of..."

"You do not need good clothes," laughed Wilton. "Besides, the ladies will not be accompanying us. My wife is indisposed with one of her headaches and the other ladies are having a picnic with some of the other gentlemen who do not wish to go hunting. Our party will consist of you and I and Lord Trillian."

"Lord Trillian?" asked Jacob. "I have never known him to be particularly active, never mind going on a hunt..."

"It is an excuse," smiled Wilton. "You do not understand it yet, but when you are married, sometimes absence makes the heart grow fonder and he has been married for such a long time..."

Jacob smiled, "I am afraid that what you speak of is not within my experience..."

"I will come for you directly after lunch," replied Wilton. "Meet me here..."

Jacob shrugged, "As my lord commands..."

"Invites," corrected Wilton. "You are invited, not commanded. I will see you shortly."

Turning away, Wilton offered a sigh of relief, why was everything so difficult? He had been told that Lord Parker was not going to be at lunch, he would be working in his study this afternoon. Now was the perfect time, the guests would be picnicking on the terrace, he could take Jacob out of the way and Brogdan could make his appearance. The plan was to take Jacob and Lord Trillian and return very late to pick up their wives before they arranged to start for Wharton tomorrow morning. He felt guilty in not sharing with Ellen at least an inkling of his plan, but as much as he loved her, he knew her faults and keeping a secret was not something she did with ease.

He thought of her for a moment, she had been rather curt and unwelcoming last night. She had not been feeling well, he knew, but there was something else there, what it could be he did not know. Once Lady Susan and Parker were out of their lives, he prayed that Ellen would forget about them and that they could return to their friends and no one would be the wiser as to Ellen's statements. He smiled slightly, she could be difficult but he loved her more than life itself. Once they were through this, he could imagine their life together, their home, their children, their future bright and beautiful, like his wife's smile.

Stop day dreaming, he scolded himself. It's time to put this plan into action and get back to a normal life!
Chapter 13

The guard at the bridge looked lazily at the papers Ragar offered him and then offered him a frown. He was a tall, heavyset man who looked as if any movement was a chore. His sparse beard did nothing to hide his hound dog expression and he looked at Ragar with exhausted eyes.

"I've got to check your papers," he harrumphed, "I'll be back in a moment."

Ragar tried to hide his irritation as the guard lumbered off into the guard shack and closed the door. He looked about in disgust, what type of country was this? He did not remember a guard shack on this road when he had been through here the last time, perhaps it was something that was put up prior to the Princess' wedding to help control the crowds. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a horseman riding casually towards him, some other poor unfortunate stuck here, wasting his time talking to the slowest and dullest of the king's guards.

The man cantered up and drew to a halt. Glancing back, Ragar realized the man was the local sheriff and offered him a polite nod.

A second horseman came over the slight rise in the road in front of him, followed by four others. Ragar noticed their approach with growing uneasiness, they all looked like sheriff's officers. As the four others reined to a halt, the guard opened the shack door and lumbered out to Ragar.

"It all checks out," he grumbled and reaching up, handed Ragar his papers.

As Ragar took them, the guard seized his arm with a speed that he could not believe that the man possessed. With one mighty pull, Ragar was on the ground and suddenly found several men on top of him, pinning him to the dirt.

"He's the one," stated the guard as the men dragged Ragar to his feet.

"You're under arrest for spying and murder," growled the sheriff. To the others he squinted, "Bound him tightly and if he moves so much as a muscle, kill him."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." began Ragar when the sheriff turned suddenly and struck him a tremendous blow, dropping him to the ground. Pulling him upright, the sheriff helped to steady him as the others bound him tightly. "There was a girl, a good girl, a barmaid, who you murdered on your way to spying on our King. You'll pay for her death and for the trouble you've caused our lord. That was just the first repayment for you, there is plenty more for you to enjoy!"

For the first time that he could remember, Ragar felt raw fear. He began to babble and cry out, but the men merely struck him until he was silent and battered and then, hoisting him up on his horse, grabbed the reins and began their journey to prison.

***

Pauline sat in the King's study and stared at Ellen, her large eyes reflecting the struggle she was having with all that she was hearing.

"You wanted to kill the Princess?" asked Albert for confirmation.

"Yes, milord, I did," replied Ellen. "I wanted her dead, I needed her to be dead."

Lady Donna drew closer to Ellen and seemed to be examining her. After a moment, she spoke to her softly, "But the feeling has left you now..."

"Yes, milady, and may it never come back," replied Ellen fervently.

Donna considered it a moment, "It will not come back unless you leave Wharton..."

"Then I pray I never leave here," stated the elderly woman. "I never want to do anyone harm, certainly I never wish to hurt milady. She is all that I thought that devil was..." She began to cry softly and then looked at Pauline, "Please, milady, don't hate me. If I must die for my sin, I will, but I never meant to hurt you, I never could do it, you see..."

Jonathan sat beside his wife and squeezed her hand softly.

"How awful," said Pauline finally. Looking at Ellen, she spoke a little more loudly. "Ellen, what other things has she had you do?"

Ellen shook her head, "I don't know the all of it, milady and I'm glad I don't. I know the afters, if you understand me. I didn't see her kill anyone, but I'll go to my grave knowing she did. I know she killed that young boy, that sheriff in Vesek and that messenger who tried to kill the King, I know she had a hand in that...I know she turned Lord Parker's house into a brothel, those women..."

Pauline nodded as she absorbed the facts and then she looked to Donna.

"Is she safe now?"

"Is SHE safe?" snapped Stasha. "Don't you think we should be worried about you?"

Pauline glanced at Jonathan, "I...I am safe, Stasha. I have all of you by me and I know you would never let anything happen to me."

Jonathan leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.

"She cast a spell over you," said Alex softly.

"Yes, your majesty, she did," replied Ellen. "She's done it to others, I'm sure. I don't know if it's an excuse, your highness, I don't know how you see it and if you'll beg my pardon, I don't care. You don't know what it's like to think you're going mad, to be at war all the time in your own head. She held my face between her hands and told me I knew her when she was a baby and I couldn't help but believe it, but I knew, in my heart I knew, it weren't true." Looking at Pauline, she gulped, "I don't care about me, sire, I don't, I'm old and I've made my mistakes, but you've got to protect her, you've got to protect milady."

"Do you know why she was trying to kill the princess?" asked Albert.

Ellen nodded slowly, "I heard her say it, milord, I heard her tell it. She said milady is a powerful sorceress, said she had bewitched the Prince into marrying her and she was protecting you all by magic. She said once she had killed her and then the rest of you, she'd be queen. I didn't understand it at the time, I just accepted it, all you can do is accept it when you're like that..."

Jonathan smiled and looked at Pauline, "Well, you did bewitch me..."

He laughed as Pauline blushed and looked away, the first happy note heard in some time.

Alex looked at Donna, who seemed surprised. He wished to ask her about what the woman had said, but saw that now was not the time to speak.

"Perhaps it would be best if you waited in the hall while we discuss what to do," said Alex.

Ellen rose and curtsied to Alex and followed the guard out into the hallway. As the door closed, Marie spoke first.

"Donna, is what she is saying true?"

Donna nodded, "Yes, all of it makes sense. She has been under a powerful spell for some time. All that the Glorious One has told me about Susan is true, I did not doubt it, but to actually see it like this..."

"But why would she suspect Pauline of being a sorceress?" asked Ernest.

"Pauline and Jonathan's marriage caught many people by surprise," replied Donna tactfully. "Like many people, she did not understand their relationship and thought that Pauline was protecting Wharton until she could bewitch Jonathan into marrying her. You must understand, she used a similar tactic to marry Parker."

"But I thought you said she has not used magic upon Parker," said Albert.

"She did not use it upon him," clarified Donna. "She used it to set up the situation.to get him to notice her. You have to remember that she is unschooled. She believes that in certain instances, magic can do more than it can do. You can make someone obey you with magic, as you saw with Ellen, but you cannot make someone love you, like Pauline and Jonathan or Ernest and I love one another."

"She could not believe that Jonathan would love someone like me," said Pauline softly. She saw Jonathan's face, saw the anger growing, "I sometimes cannot believe it myself, my love; you should not get angry because others find it hard to believe."

"She tried to kill you," spat Jonathan. Turning to Donna he asked, "Is she in danger, Aunt Donna?"

"We are all in danger, Jonathan," replied Donna. "Fortunately, we are not in danger here, in the castle. The Glorious One allows us to be protected here from magic." Donna frowned, "She is even more dangerous than I thought, however. The youngest novice is taught how to recognize practitioners of the craft from our earliest training. This is exactly the reason why, so that you cannot attribute actions to someone outside of the craft, so that outsiders are safe. We must be most careful with her, most careful indeed..."

"What of Ellen?" asked Stasha. "What can we do with her? We can't let her go about telling people what has happened and we can't trust her near Pauline again."

"Maybe it would be safer to lock her up," suggested Ernest. "I've been locked up several times and it really is not too terrible..."

"Perhaps we could swear her to secrecy, if Donna believes that she is truly harmless," stated Alex, "I have no doubt she will want to put this behind her. Until Susan is removed, she can stay here where she can do no harm." Looking up, he spoke softly to Pauline, "That is, it if is alright with you, Pauline."

"With me?" she asked.

"I would never want you to be afraid," stated Alex. "We can banish her to a place where she cannot harm you until Susan is dealt with, she need not stay here..."

"And send her back to that agony of the mind?" asked Pauline. "Please, sire, don't do that, I beg you. Let her stay here, she is harmless, I am certain of it and if Aunt Donna says it is so, I know it is true. Please, don't make her suffer..."

Alex smiled, "She can stay here, Pauline, but even in that, if you wish her locked away as Ernest suggests, until we are certain..."

"No," replied Pauline, "please no. Let her remain with me, I am sure she means no harm..."

"Are you sure?" asked Stasha. "I don't think I'd want a maid who confessed to wanting to kill me..."

"Susan wanted to kill me," said Pauline. "No Stasha, I could not bear the thought of her suffering more than she already has; I trust her, I see the pain in her eyes, I know you all have. Let her stay with us here in Wharton until Susan has been removed and all is safe."

"Are you certain my love?" asked Jonathan.

Pauline nodded, "Yes, my angel. She will not harm us."

"Very well then," stated Alex, "we will bide our time..."

***

Eva entered Susan's study, responding to her summons quickly. Now was not the time to raise suspicions in anything she did, now was the time to bide her time until the poison she had given her had taken effect. She would be dead within a week and Parker free to marry the widow Annalisse. She had received a message from the assassin this morning, Anthony would become ill tomorrow and die within the week. The plan was working perfectly, in a year's time, Parker would be king and before a second winter faded, she would be queen.

She smiled at Susan as she drew closer and took the proffered chair.

"Thank you, milady," she said softly. "What is your command?"

"Did you enjoy our little show this morning?" Susan asked with a laugh.

"You seem to enjoy his lordship's discomfort almost as you do his lovemaking," laughed Eva.

"Perhaps more so," smiled Susan. "I also understand that my husband has an appointment this afternoon..."

"The Lady Ellen," smiled Eva. "She seems unable to resist his charms..."

"And soon she will be unable to resist his demands for payment," smiled Susan. "My plans are at delicate stage and I need you to make certain that they do not derail."

"Me, milady?" asked Eva.

"Yes," smiled Susan. "You see, the Lord Parker sent a letter yesterday to Lady Ellen and I do not believe she destroyed it as she was instructed to do. I want you to search her room while they are...working together...and make sure that the letter is removed. You are to bring it to me. My plan is that we both enjoy Ellen's descent, Parker will blackmail her and so will I."

Eva smiled approvingly at the idea, "A brilliant plan, milady..."

"Hurry now and go and see if you can find the document," urged Susan.

"At once, milady," replied Eva.

Quickly, she rose and made her way to Ellen's guest room. It took only a short time for her to find the note, hidden in the pocket of the gown that Ellen wore yesterday. Eva swiftly returned to Susan's study and presented the document to her.

Susan smiled as she opened it and read the contents of the note.

"Sit down," she instructed as she read the message, "have some wine."

Eva took a goblet from the table and sipped it as she watched her mistress' smile grow larger.

"Yes, this is perfect," she purred. Turning to Eva she smiled, "Not a bad copy, don't you think?"

Eva's features dropped into a confused scowl, "Copy, milady?"

"Oh, Ellen is stupid," laughed Susan, "but she is also completely under Parker's spell. She burned the original note as she had been instructed to do, poor, dear idiot."

Eva shook her head, "So who made a copy of it?"

"I did, silly," smiled Susan. "Tell me, Eva, is poison how you usually take care of your victims?"

Eva felt a chill run through her as she tried to stand. The chill turned warm as she realized her legs were not obeying her commands.

"What..."

"Did you really think you could poison me?" purred Susan. "You, on the other hand, are very easily poisoned. Oh, you wanted to put me off my guard, wanted me never to suspect that in a week's time, I would be laying in bed, feverishly dying of the poison you put in my food and in my drink."

A stabbing pain ripped through Eva's abdomen as she doubled over. She began to sweat profusely as she fell on the floor in agony.

"I saw you eat it..." she managed between gasps.

"Oh, indeed you did," laughed Susan, picking up Eva's goblet and downing the remainder of the liquid. "What is poison for you is not so for me, though the wine is of an inferior vintage..."

Dropping the cup on Eva, she bent over her and grasped her face between her hands, looking into her eyes as the pain increased in Eva's stomach.

"So, you and Parker would kill me and he would marry the princess and everyone would live happily ever after? Well, Anthony will die, but Parker will never marry Annalisse, though I should thank you, your assassin will kill her husband and save me the trouble of disposing of him."

Eva managed to catch enough breath to let out a weak cry of pain. It felt as if a blade of fire were being twisted in her innards and pulled herself into a tighter and tighter ball of agony as Susan continued to hold her face in her hands.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" she smiled. She leaned closer and kissed Eva lightly on the lips and then laughed, "Go to hell, darling little Eva..."

Eva struggled to speak and to curse her, to rave, but nothing but a gurgling sound came from her throat and the last thing she saw before the light left her eyes was Susan's smiling face.

Susan felt her go limp, her body submitting to the poison. She released her face and Eva's head slammed like a weight into the carpet. Susan went to the windows and threw them open; she would need to get two of the servants to burn the body, yes, that would be best. She stopped in her reveries for a moment as she strained to hear. It was a distant sound, just perceivable above the roar of the ocean from the cliff below. For a moment, she did not understand and then she realized what it was and she moved swiftly to the door and began to run towards the stairs. It had been a scream, a woman's scream...
Chapter 14

It was not at all what Ellen had expected, she had never been treated like this before and the way he ignored her protests caused her tears to run freely.

"You were rough and cruel!" she snapped, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of the sheet.

To her surprise, Parker laughed and took a mouthful of wine straight from the bottle that he had brought with them.

"You are no gentleman!" she screeched, which only increased his laughter.

"Do you think yourself a lady after what you just did?" he replied. "Oh Parker, my love," a peel of laughter cascaded throughout the cave. "I've rarely met a woman who was so eager to make her husband a cuckold!"

Ellen stared at him angrily, trying to gather her thoughts as she turned her back to him. She had met Parker a little more than half an hour before, slipping away from the picnic at the first opportunity.

Earlier, she had lied to Wilton, saying that she wanted to stay near the house in case her illness returned and telling him that he was free to go on his hunt. Wilton had been sympathetic and most annoying, wanting to stay with her in her distress. She had to practically throw him out before he would consent to leave. From the window, she saw him leave and immediately had sent a note down to Lady Susan explaining that she still felt ill and thanking her for not pressing her to attend the picnic.

Anxiously she waited for Parker himself, but instead, he had sent a servant girl to guide her through the servant's quarters to a secret passage that led outside where no one would see her leave the house. She had begun to feel uneasy as she had made her way through the servant's quarters; she had never ever been through the servant's quarters in her own home and what she found there disgusted her.

Many of the women's doors were open and she saw many of them stark naked, parading about as if not wearing clothes was the most natural thing in the world. She glanced back at Parker, who continued to drink the wine straight from the bottle, disgusting. It brought to mind the one doorway in the servant's quarters that had horrified her the most; a woman in bed with not one but two men! She was so shocked by the sight at she had paused at the door and one of the men offered her the opportunity to join them! She ran after the servant leading her to Parker, the men's laughter ringing in her ears.

Once outside, they had to take a long route to the meeting place, but finally she had arrived. Immediately, she told Parker about the servants and to her surprise, he had laughed and ignored her. She was going to return to the house when suddenly, he became contrite and began to woo her with sweet words and pledges of eternal love.

She felt her pulse quicken as he proclaimed her even more beautiful than the Lady Susan and the thought of her being considered more beautiful than a woman often called the most beautiful woman in the kingdom had made her heart flutter. She thought of replacing Lady Susan as the greatest beauty in the kingdom and then in a final stroke of justice, replacing Pauline as the next queen.

Parker promised to lay all of her dreams at her feet in such beautiful words and then begged her to walk with him along the cliffs. He had placed an arm around her and whispered his love into her ears and she forgot about the men in the servant's quarters and Lady Susan and everything else. It was all about her and Parker, the two of them; her radiant beauty, her life, her kingdom, his undying love for her.

She had not wanted to go into the cave, but he assured her that it was fashionably decorated and she was surprised at the refined style of the lavish furnishings. It was so out of place and unexpected that she found herself delighted with it. As he lit the candles, she had examined all of the treasures so carefully selected and placed in this oddest of places. He had invited her to sit on a divan that held fantastic patterns on its cushions and there, he had begun to kiss her and repeat his pledges of undying love.

They had kissed for but a short time when she felt him beginning to loosen her stays. She realized what was happening and allowed him to undress her as she undressed him. Stopping him, she had stood to fold her dress to make sure that it would not be wrinkled and he had laughed at her. Grasping her dress, he had flung it on the floor as if it were nothing, as if her beautiful gown did not even matter and then, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

She was furious and had protested his actions, angry about his treatment of her dress, but she found he cared nothing about her protests. Unlike Wilton, he did not even listen to her as she complained, suddenly he was on top of her, his hands everywhere, his mouth descending upon hers tightly and then he was inside of her, bucking against her in a frenzy.

It had not been in the least romantic or loving; it had been base and horrible. He acted like an animal, as if she were common, as if she were not the greatest beauty in the kingdom at all and it made her sick to think of his lack of gratitude and devotion to her.

Suddenly, he grabbed her and pulled her back against him.

"Stop your crying, you stupid little fool," he roared. "Why do you think you were given the beauty you have? It is to be enjoyed by a real man and I must confess, I did enjoy it!"

Pulling her closer, he kneaded her breast and then put the bottle to her lips, forcing her to swallow some of the liquid.

"You are not gentleman!" she repeated as she pulled away from him, trying to cover herself with a sheet.

Parker snatched the sheet from her angrily and grabbed her with an oath.

"You are a pretty little whiner are you not? I am not your stupid Wilton," he growled, pulling her on top of him. "I will show you what you were made for..."

He grasped her arms and held her in place above him as he mated with her, ignoring her tears and her pleases until he was satisfied. Rising from the bed, he stood at the mouth of the cave, laughing at her and placing his pants back on.

"Get up. you stupid fool," he laughed. "Who do you think will listen to your complaints? Wilton? You've made him a cuckold; do you think you can complain to him of your treatment now? You will do what you are told, or all the world will know what type of woman you are!" His laughter came harder as he staggered forward and put his boots on, one after the other. "Greatest beauty in the kingdom..." he muttered as he made his way out into the sunshine, his laughter ringing out above the sound of the waves.

Somehow, she had managed to rise and grasp her dress. She had barely managed to slip it over her head when she heard footsteps and yelling coming from just beyond the cave's entrance. A wild fear swept over her; had he invited other men to come and abuse her?

In a panic, she ran for the mouth of the cave and out into the sunshine. For a moment, the light blinded her and then she turned and saw Parker in the center of a group of men. He was kneeling and the men were all around him and at first, she did not understand what she was seeing. It seemed as if Parker was pleading with them and as her eyes focused, she saw that two arrows were sticking out of his side. Before she could recover from the shock of it, the men drew their swords and began striking at him savagely. Parker twisted and fell to the ground and the men drew closer and continued to hack at him.

Ellen screamed and the men turned, noticing her for the first time.

"Get her!" snapped a large, coarse looking man and two men immediately took off after her.

She ran, trying to reach the cave entrance, but one of the men grabbed her by the hair and dragged her backwards and to the ground. The second man grabbed her dress and tore it from her, leaving her naked and exposed to all of them.

"There's no time for that," roared the large man, looking out across the fields and seeing Parker's guards running towards them in the distance. "She's seen us, get rid of her!"

The second man looked at her lustfully a moment longer and then pulled her to her feet. She tried to run, but he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her towards the cliff. Grasping her hair tightly, he lifted her off the ground as she howled in pain and then reaching down, grabbed her leg and swung her in the air before flinging her out over the edge.

She stared up into the sun as she plummeted towards the rocks below. How could they do this to the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, she thought? Suddenly, something struck her with tremendous force in the back and all was darkness.

***

Brogdan had entered the main hallway of Parker's home, the servant girl casting a not so subtle glance in his direction before taking him to the drawing room and leaving him to go and fetch her master and mistress. Worried about his mission, praying that Wilton had done his part, he had not heard the screaming or growing commotion outside of the room until the doors opened and a male servant entered with a sword in his hand and a wild look in his eye.

"Who are you?" he snapped.

"Sir Brogdan," replied Brogdan, resting his hand upon his own sword. "I've just arrived..."

"The master is dead!" cried out the man in a panic. "We must get out of here!"

Brogdan took two steps and was upon the man, grabbed the sword out of his hand and peered at him intently, "What do you mean?"

"Lord Parker has been killed," babbled the man. "Some ruffians assassinated him! He is lying dead upon the lawn near the cliff!"

Brogdan pushed past the man and made his way to the back of the house. All was chaos, people running and screaming about in terror. Parker's guards were running about in complete disorder, every bit as anxious as the guests to leave the vicinity. One ran past Brogdan and he grabbed the man and shouted at him.

"Take me to Lord Parker!"

"He's dead!" replied the man, the look of panic in his eyes.

"Take me to him!" replied Brogdan, adding a shake for emphasis.

The man swallowed hard, even in his terror, he knew that Brogdan was too big and powerful to ignore. With a slight bow, he began to lead Brogdan down a path at the side of the house. People were streaming away from the area, women crying, men calling out for protection. Brogdan grabbed his guide by the elbow and forced him to break into a run towards the scene of the murder.

He found Parker lying in a pool of his own blood, multiple slashes and stab wounds apparent on his body. The corpse was bloody and mutilated, the legs twisted grotesquely underneath it, Parker's face slashed and torn, several arrows sticking out of his torso. Even for Brogdan, a man who had been to war, it was unnerving to look into those dead eyes and see the brutality with which Parker had been murdered. He looked about and shook his head, Parker's guards were no where to be seen here. The man who had led him here was already but a small figure in the distance, running for his life towards the house.

A lone figure emerged from the cluttered chaos of terrified guests and guards and walked angrily towards Brogdan. As Lady Susan approached, her eyes grew wider, her face burning a furious, angry red. She stared at Brogdan for a moment and then down at the heap that had once been her husband.

"I am sorry, milady," began Brogdan, when she interrupted him with a piercing scream.

He looked at her as she continued to scream, a loud, unnatural sound. This was not the scream of a woman who had lost the love of her life, this was the scream of a wounded beast, a furious animal. Brogdan involuntarily took a step back and stared at her as she clenched her fists, her features twisted by a titanic rage.

Susan had wanted Parker dead, had ceased enjoying him a long time ago, but he was to die AFTER he had fulfilled HER ambition. Looking at his crumpled body, his broken corpse, all she could see was the death of all of her planning, of all of her years of manipulating and deceiving. She had done the work, had labored and fought and now, there would be no reward. She had made Parker the lynchpin of her entire plan and he had failed her! Why had she let him believe in his own plan? Why had Eva ever been allowed to suggest that he marry Annalisse?

Her fury grew and now the whole world would feel her wrath! With blind, unreasoning hatred she beheld the world around her; all of her planning, all of her calculations, all of her work, all of it for nothing! Parker was dead! The death of Parker, of any man, was nothing to her but the death of her chance to become queen was too much for her. In blind rage, she kicked Parker's corpse.

"Milady!" snapped Brogdan, but she turned and hissed at him, like a huge, angry snake.

Brogdan felt dread rising within him and then he remembered; the amulet! If he could just get it out of his pouch...

Before he could react, however, she raised her hands and screamed out again. The sky above them became darker and then black, clouds twisting above them in fantastic shapes, spiraling in the sky with frightening speed. Brogdan reached into his satchel and his hand felt the box containing the amulet. Grasping it in his hand he took a step towards her but it was already too late. What he saw was no longer a woman, was no longer even human.

The black clouds seemed to streak downwards into her outstretched arms and she grew, larger and darker, everything blackness except for her golden hair. She was shifting and changing, growing taller and larger. Finally, it appeared as if her hair had begun to melt, elongating along the now massive body, stretching to cover the bulky figure in a golden outer layer. The shifting ceased and Brogdan looked up at a creature that made his blood run cold. It was heavily muscled and at least nine feet tall, with dark wings extending out behind it that slowly folded against its back like the wings of a lethal wasp. The face was covered in a golden helmet with a single slit behind which glowed malignant eyes. The arms and legs wore the golden armor like a second skin while enormous claws extended from the fingers of the mailed glove covered hands.

Quickly the dark clouds departed and the sun struck the golden armor and the creature sparkled in the sun. Brogdan stood dumbfounded, unable to move or think. He had heard of dark magic, of shape shifting, of all manner of incredible transformations, but he had never witnessed anything like this and for a simple man, to see it was simply overwhelming.

It was then that he heard a voice running across the field. He turned away from the creature and saw Jacob running from the stable area with Wilton chasing behind him. Brogdan turned back just in time to see the creature's arm as it swooped down and struck him on the side of his body. He felt the impact, heard his bones break, and was conscious as he flew ten feet through the air before slamming into the earth and blacking out.

Jacob ran up and saw his father's body laying in a heap at the feet of the creature and let out a gasp. He and Wilton and Lord Trillian had left to go on the hunt when he realized that he had failed to bring his arrows with him. Despite their protest, he finally convinced Wilton and Lord Trillian to turn back so that he might retrieve them. When they had returned, one of the servants had come running into the stable screaming that the master had been killed.

Looking up at the creature now, he grasped an arrow from his quiver and fired it at its head.

"You killed him!" he screamed.

The arrow struck the thing's face, but did no damage, merely shattering upon impact, the parts splintering and falling to the ground beside his father's broken body. The creature raised its hand and a great charge of energy fired from the tips of its claws, striking Jacob in the chest. For Jacob, the pain was excruciating and he crumpled to the ground, unaware of the strange thing that had happened. As the energy struck him, it seemed to pass through his body and reflect back at the creature, striking it with as much force as it had struck Jacob. The creature staggered backward and enraged, fired another blast of energy from its hand at him, but the same thing happened again.

In his agony, Jacob looked up and to his surprise, saw his father. He seemed to be floating above him, but yet he was on some sort of ground for he was on his knees begging and pleading. Before him stood the angel and to Jacob, she had never looked more beautiful. Her golden hair seemed to glow and her face was more beautiful, more breathtaking than he had ever seen it before, but to his surprise she seemed so sad that it broke his heart. It was obvious that his father was pleading with her, but the tears ran from her eyes as she shook her head slowly. He watched as his father continued to beg, but slowly faded away, leaving the angel staring at the spot where he had been with the most mournful expression he had ever seen.

Suddenly, Jacob felt the pain that wracked his body leave him and he stood up and walked towards the angel, his happiness growing with every step. He would be with her forever and no would ever hurt him again and he smiled as he drew nearer to his beautiful angel. She turned towards him and shook her head again, her tears flowing freely, her expression even more pained.

"Not yet, my love," she whispered.

Gently, she embraced him and Jacob would never know greater happiness or peace than he felt in that moment.

"Not yet, my love," she said softly. "It is not yet your time."

Jacob could barely contain his disappointment but allowed her to lead him back to the field where he saw his body laying below them. Taking his hand, she led him back to the place where he lay and kissing him sweetly upon his cheek

Softly she stated, "Sooner than you know, you will be with me, but you are not done here yet. Know that I always love you, we will be together my love sooner than you know..."

With that, he went to sleep.

***

To everyone's surprise, it was Lord Trillian who took charge in the horrible aftermath of what had happened. He had been able to a few of the remaining servants to find Edward and Baron Fiskar in the nearby town and to get them back to Parker's estate within the hour. The scene of carnage terrified him and he had all he could do to regain some semblance of order before the Baron and Edward arrived.

Briefly he explained to them all that had happened; Parker dead, Jacob upstairs in his room, barely clinging to life and Brogdan laying in a bedroom, badly battered and still unconscious. While Parker's guards had been worse than useless, Brogdan's men had been able to capture some, but not all, of the murderers. It was while one of them was being interrogated that Ellen's story had finally been revealed. Before Trillian could act, Wilton had made a mad dash to the cliff, descending to the rocks below via a long and winding path to find his beautiful wife, his life, his everything, dead upon the rocks below. From the men's testimonies and the evidence found in the cave there could be no doubt that his wife had been both Parker's final conquest and his final victim. The idea that his wife had betrayed him was too much for Wilton and he collapsed in a bitter agony and had to be sedated by the doctors who had arrived.

Baron Fiskar immediately took charge of Brogdan's troops upon his arrival, his reputation all that they needed to obey his orders. He immediately had Brogdan's men arrest everyone left in the house and by nightfall, he had forced the surrender of the mercenaries that Parker had hired. That evening, a stream of dispatches left for Wharton, explaining all that had happened and ending with the ominous warning that the creature had left after Jacob had been struck down, flying off like a plague of locusts.

That nightfall, Brogdan had recovered sufficiently to speak with Edward, Trillian and Fiskar and explain all that had happened. It was agreed that two hundred men would remain behind with Brogdan and the other wounded while giving the Baron would take command of the remaining men and return to Wharton as quickly as possible.

"What of Lord Wilton?" asked Edward.

"I think it best that we get him and his unfortunate wife back to Wharton as soon as possible," stated Fiskar. "She is connected with the royal family and it will do no good to delay her return, no matter what she is guilty of here. Also, Lord Wilton can do no good here in his present condition, perhaps his friends can help to...to console him."

"I agree," moaned Brogdan, the pain in his body growing more urgent. "He can do me no good here and I cannot watch him."

Before he fell back into a painful sleep, he told the Baron, "I awoke just as that thing took flight and as it ascended, I heard it screech, "Annalisse..."

"Then we must get back to Wharton as soon as we can," stated the Baron. "It already has a head start and I fear we will arrive too late to prevent whatever evil it has planned."
Chapter 15

Annalisse sat in the carriage as it wound its way through the streets of Wharton, the crowds cheering, anxious to get a look at the newly married couple. She remembered another ride that had taken place many years ago, her first ride through the village of Wharton. She thought that first arrival, at the screaming, joyous crowds that had gathered to see her mother, at the flowers and presents that had flowed into the carriage that she and her mother and Jonathan and Lady Stasha and Count Bartran had occupied. She thought of how exciting it had all been, at the wonder and pageantry and at how magnificent their new home had looked.

The crowds were just as joyous and boisterous today, the flowers just as beautiful and Wharton looked even lovelier than it had on that memorable day. She waved as she had then and squeezed the hand of the man she loved and cried tears of joy at returning. As the carriage opened into the courtyard, she saw her mother and father standing upon a platform, both obviously happy to see her. Besides them on one side stood Jonathan, Pauline, Aunt Donna and Uncle Ernest and on the other Stasha and Albert, all of them smiling. As the carriage drew to a halt, Anthony stepped down and, taking her hand, helped her down and then kissing her hand, led her to the foot of the platform.

Alex held up his hands for silence and gradually, the crowd grew quieter. Clearing his throat, he called out, "On behalf of your beautiful mother, your loving brother and his bride, your aunt and uncle and your adopted grandparents, welcome home!"

Annalisse laughed, she remembered her mother once saying that her father was not a gracious speaker, but there was no voice that she would rather hear and she agreed with the assessment and the sentiment. Stepping onto the platform, she was lost in her father's embrace and for a moment felt again like the little girl he used to carry about and sit on his lap. Her mother intervened and Alex reluctantly let her go and welcomed Anthony with a hug as she moved down the line, hugging and kissing them all.

There were celebrations and a ball for the happy couple that evening. She would remember all of her life how beautiful her mother looked and how happy Pauline seemed, dancing every dance with Jonathan, and how happy Uncle Ernest and Aunt Donna had been. She remembered how clever Uncle Ernest had been and how much he and her father laughed, like two school boys and how they invited Anthony in on the fun and seemed to love him like another son.

Even when she was quite old, Annalisse would still remember dancing with her father, the tears in his eyes, tears of happiness at her return. She would remember how the old gossips would speak of it, of how they would criticize him, but she would always know, as she had always known, than her father loved her more than life itself.

At the end of that glorious day and just before she had retired for the night, she had leaned over to her mother and asked her quietly, "Are you going out tomorrow?"

Marie always went out on Wednesdays to give food and money and comfort to the poor. She had always gone with her mother, had learned about compassion and patience and true joy during those visits with the less fortunate. It had always helped her to understand how important others were and how truly fortunate she was; not because she had more, but because she was honored to help. Marie nodded and Annalisse said softly, "I will go with you..."

***

Mullins drove the horse wildly in the darkness, trying to negotiate the path by memory. He was alone now, him and the boy and if he could only get back to his village, he could hide out there until things calmed down.

They had done it, he thought, finally the deed was done. He had stuck his knife in the bastard who had made him a fool, had struck down the man who had disgraced all of them. He thought nothing of the men who had died, of his comrades who had been captured, of the boy who was clinging to him for dear life as the horse galloped in the darkness. He had killed Parker, he had given his wife back her lover, what a sweet reunion in hell that must have been.

The sound of the horse splashing through water brought him back to the moment and he slowed the horse, easing its speed as the water climbed up to their feet.

"Once we cross the river," he muttered, "they'll never find us. We'll go back to the village and hide, maybe even open the old business, no one will know, no one will ever suspect..."

They all thought he had left the village to go abroad in his grief. None of them knew that he had turned into a highway man, a thief, a brigand, all to avenge his wife's betrayal. He had loved her, had felt like the luckiest man in the world. She had given him a home, a family and then...

The boy put his arm more tightly around him as the water continued to rise. He glanced back at him, his son. No, not his son, that devil's son, the devil he had killed. He was about to slap the boy's hand away, but the horse began to pull up onto the bank and he had to hold it steady, steady on the wet rocks. They could find a place beyond the rocks, a place to bed down for the night, a place...

"WHO GOES THERE?"

Mullins felt the boy's arms tighten around him as he pulled on the horse and drew to stop. Silent, stay silent, his mind screamed.

"WHO GOES THERE?"

He tried to ease the horse to it's left, tried to turn it quietly, but the horse stamped and snorted and then a lantern shot a ray of light at them in the dark.

"HALT!"

Mullins gave the horse a kick and they bolted back into the river again. He heard the footsteps behind him and the yelling and then heard the arrows whizzing past them. The water climbed up the horse's legs and their feet, if they could only make it...

He felt the impact, felt the boy grunt and then felt his arms loosen and then the splash as the boy fell off into the water and as he turned to look for him in the darkness he felt the force of the arrow strike him in the shoulder and unseat him.

He fell flailing into the water and the current dragged him down towards the center of the river. Yes, yes, if he could only stay afloat long enough, the river would carry him downstream.

As he splashed he still heard the arrows whizzing by and then his hand struck something near him. It was the boy, face down, his body being dragged down the river by the current, his dead body entangling Mullins as the speed of the water picked up. He pushed the boy away, disentangled himself and then slammed hard into a rock. The pain was tremendous and it knocked the wind out of him and he pivoted, the force of the water forcing him forward into yet another rock and then another and then another. Each impact sapped his strength and then he heard it; the sound of water dropping.

Mullins' eyes went wide as he turned and tried to fight the current, but he was weak and his body broken and he swept along until the water swept him over the edge and onto the rocks below.

It was the next morning and the women came to clean their clothes near the river as they had for centuries, to sit and gossip and begin their daily routine, but today was different. Today they ran and called the constable, crying the he must come with them to see what they saw. The constable was a tall, thin man with a narrow face and piercing eyes who never seemed to be in a hurry. He sauntered after the excited women as they led him back down the path towards the river.

When he arrived, he ambled to the edge of the water and peered down at what the women were pointing at in their excitement and terror. At his feet lay a man with a broken arrow sticking out of his shoulder and blood wisping from his mouth. He stared up at the sun but did not see it as the water lapped gently over his open eyes. Besides him, with his arm across him, lay a boy with two arrows in his back. He was face down in the water and he seemed to be hugging the man who stared up through the water. The constable dragged them both to the shore and notified the king's guards and after the guards had taken down everyone's statements, he buried them in the local potter's field for no one knew who they were...

***

The jail was large and strong and rough, the stones offering sharp edges and dull corners and no hope of escape. It had never known a busier time and the entire town was abuzz with the news of what had happened at Lord Parker's manner.

"Another traitor," snapped the jailor with a cackle as he threw open the cell door to house his latest guest.

It had been a busy morning after a busy night. There had been more arrests yesterday than in the last two years combined and so many nobles were pressed in the cells that the man felt he was at a royal banquet or a tournament. The large man whom he pushed into the cell snarled at him and then forced a smaller man off a seat and sat down on the lone bench.

The cell was crowded with at least fifteen people in it; usually its maximum number was four, but there was nowhere to keep all of the freeloaders who had been at Parker's estate, so the jailors just crammed them in and came back with more.

"What is this man doing in here?" snapped a prissy looking man. "It is bad enough we are forced to be here, must we be kept with thieves and ruffians?"

"Well, your lordship, it's like this," mused the jailor. "The king, he doesn't really take things into consideration and that's a fact. See, if you break the law, no matter the law, he thinks of you as a criminal and he just lumps you all together in here. Now you might not like the class of criminal you're sharing with and he might not like you either, but there you are..." The jailor flapped his arms at the hopelessness of the situation and then burst into laughter.

"I'd be quiet if I were you," said the heavyset man. "I don't like your looks neither..."

The prissy man grimaced and then returned to his seat as the jailor laughed and walked away. The heavyset man sat and thought, how was he going to kill the Earl if he was stuck in here? The whole countryside had gone mad and they were arresting people, accusing them of treason and placing them in jail until they could check things out.

He cared little about treason, his fear was that some of his other activities might be found out and then, well then, he would hang. Perhaps Eva could help him out, if he could only get a message to her. She had to have some influence left, even if the rumors about Lord Parker being dead were true. He thought for a long time and then his worst nightmare happened.

She entered the jail looking for her husband, swearing that he had only gone to visit the Lord Parker on business and had been caught up in the Baron Fiskar's web. She held out the Baron's note, begging her pardon for the mistake and instructing the jailer to release her husband immediately. Frantically, she swept into the holding area, her eyes searching for her husband when she spotted him.

"GOOD GOD!" she screeched.

"What's the matter, milady?" asked the jailer, startled, as were they all, by her scream.

"THAT MAN," yelled the woman, pointing at the heavyset man on the bench, "THAT'S THE MAN WHO ROBBED ME!"

The jailor looked at him and smiled a sly smile, "Is it indeed?

"I demand that he be arrested," cried the lady, forgetting for the moment where she was standing.

"I promise you, milady," stated the jailer, with a large smile, "he won't get away from us..."
Chapter 16

As the morning broke over Wharton two women emerged from a door set in the wall of the interior fortress. Both held baskets and were speaking to one another happily as they made their way down a narrow, winding path towards the village below. They stopped at several homes, distributing money and food and comfort, speaking to the ill and the elderly and helping the less fortunate. It was midmorning before they were done with their rounds. It took them a moment to realize that some sort of commotion had started in the village square. To their surprise, people began running away from the town square, seeking shelter in every direction.

At first, they could get no true idea of what was causing the growing panic and then they managed to grab an elderly woman who was doing her best to get out of harms way, but whose legs no longer wished to carry her. Pulling her into the doorway in which they stood, all three were surprised to find the door open and an arm grab them from behind and pull them inside.

"It came down from the sky," cried the old woman, shaking and terrified, her gray hair wild and unkempt as she ran her rough hand through it.

"What came down from the sky?" asked Annalisse. "Was it a dragon?"

"No, milady," replied the woman who had pulled the three of them indoors. "I saw it land from my upstairs window, I've never seen the like before!"

The volume of screaming increased outside as large groups of people began to stream past the windows. Suddenly, a hideous shriek bounced between the houses, an unearthly voice called out, "ANNALISSE!"

Marie grasped her daughter in her arms and looked about the room wildly as the woman all cried out. Spotting a trap door beside the table in the room, she pointed to it.

"Where does that lead?"

"To the root cellar, milady," stated the woman who had pulled them in.

Marie grasped the door handle in an instant and pulled it open, ushering the other three into the cellar and then joining them before dropping the door down upon them. For a moment all was darkness and then she heard someone moving about in the darkness and then the sound of a flint being struck. For a moment a flicker glanced out uncertainly from a few feet away and then a small flame. Light spread to the corners of the room and they could finally see where they were, a low ceiling cellar, the floor and walls of stone, the ceiling the timbers of the floor above. Barrels and boxes filled with provisions were stacked about neatly, the orderliness of the place seeming to give the women a certain peace of mind for a moment.

Suddenly a crash was heard above and then screaming. A window upstairs sounded as if it was shattered and something struck the floor hard above them. The four women grasped each other as the voice echoed out once again, "ANNALISSE!"

***

Ernest and Donna were just finishing their breakfast in their suite when they heard the beginning of the commotion taking place down in the village of Wharton far below. For a moment, Donna froze, spotting a dark shadow creeping about the room in her second sight and then it was gone. Turning, she saw Ernest staring out the window peering down toward the village.

"What in the name of all that is holy..." he whispered as she drew close to him.

It took a moment for her to spot what he was looking at and then for her to understand what it was she was seeing. The window showed a corner of the village square below and all they could see at first were people running in some sort of panic. Suddenly, something stepped into view, something enormous, much bigger than a man and made of gold.

Donna gasped, it was the creature of the vision and it was here! It was happening now and she stood frozen to the spot. As she caught her breath, she turned to see her husband running into their bedroom.

"ERNEST!" she yelled as he reemerged, wrapping his sword belt around his waist.

"Come, my love," he said firmly.

In her terror, she obeyed, grasping his hand as he threw open the door and led her down the stairs. The castle was in an uproar, soldiers appearing seemingly from every opening, some in full armor, some putting on their uniforms as they raced towards the main doors.

At the top of the grand staircase, Donna looked down into a sea of mass confusion, soldiers running about, their officers shouting orders and in the center of it all stood the King. Alex had his sword in his hand, his breast plate on and was moving through the throng towards the front door.

"Good-bye my love," said Ernest, kissing her and running for the stairs.

"ERNEST, NO!" she screamed, but her voice was swallowed up in the pandemonium around them.

Ernest was at his brother's side in an instant and there he hovered. Alex turned to him, he seemed desperately trying to control himself as he gestured and then looking up, pointed at Donna as he spoke. She could see Ernest arguing with him and then nod his head as Alex forced his way through the chaos towards the main doors. Ernest seemed to wrestle with his thoughts for a moment and then began grabbing officers and giving them instructions.

It took some time, but the officers finally got control of the men and the men began to form in companies. The first group that had assembled suddenly turned towards the interior of the castle and began herding the women present into groups, directing them towards the back of the building. A soldier reached Donna and bowed.

"Milady, we need you please to follow us to the cellars," he stated. "It is the King's order."

Looking at Ernest, she saw him give a final order to one of the captains and at last make his way out of the hall and into the courtyard beyond. She realized what had happened; Alex had ordered him to arrange for the protection of the women before coming after him. In the vision, they were riding together and now they would not ride together into the square, the vision was wrong!

"Come, milady, please," said the guard anxiously.

Donna nodded and joined the throng headed for the cellars as she asked herself; what had changed?

***

Alex led the first troop of men into the town square. He had heard the screaming and sounds of destruction coming from the square, but the road they had taken offered them no view of what was happening in front of them. He was trying to keep his anxiety from overwhelming him for he knew that both Marie and Annalisse were somewhere in the village. All he could think of was protecting his wife and daughter.

Rounding the bend, he held up a hand, drawing the men to a halt. He could barely understand what was happening in front of him as he jumped down from his horse.

A massive golden creature was destroying the square, lifting up entire carriages and flinging them into houses and smashing them upon the ground like an angry child throwing a tantrum in a room full of toys. It slapped clawed hands at people as they ran blindly in a panic from it, slamming them into buildings or causing them to skid, broken, across the cobblestones.

"GO AND FIND THE QUEEN AND THE PRINCESS!" roared the King and the men with him hesitated. "NOW!" he yelled and the men dispersed, going house to house to find the Queen and Princess.

Alex ran through the pandemonium straight at the creature, which turned upon him and reared back.

Screeching, it uttered a horrible sound and then a single word, "ANNALISSE!"

My daughter, he breathed, it will never get my daughter. Sword raised high, Alex ran directly at the creature and struck hard, the strength of his blow momentarily forcing the creature back upon its heels. A few soldiers present tried to join in the fight, slashing at the monster, but the creature seemed to recover itself and turned to the attack.

Slashing at Alex, it forced him back and then turned and grabbed the soldier closest to it, picking the man up with one hand and hurling him through a window. Quickly it reached out and lashed out at another man, its claws slashing through his armor like a hot knife through butter, leaving the man stained in his own blood. Alex brought his sword down upon the creature's arm, stopping it from attacking another man and forcing it to focus on him once again. The two locked in battle, the creature trying to slash the King with its claws, Alex trying to slash through the creature's armor like skin or crush its arms with heavy blows.

A second group of soldiers appeared in the square led by Jonathan. Like his father, he did not hesitate, but attacked the creature immediately. For a moment, the weight of the soldiers and the skill of Jonathan and Alex seemed to have the creature retreating, but suddenly, it began to pick the largest pieces of the shatter carts that were in the market and fling them at the men. All of the men, including Jonathan and Alex, were forced back under the onslaught.

"FIND YOUR MOTHER AND YOUR SISTER!" yelled the King over the sound of the wooden carts smashing against the buildings and the cobblestones.

"NO FATHER," replied Jonathan, "WE FIGHT TOGETHER!"

The creature searched for something else to throw but found nothing to pick up and Alex jumped forward, crossing the square in an instant. Catching it off guard, he slammed his sword with a loud, angry ring on the top of its head. The creature staggered backwards and slammed into the house behind it. As it struggled to right itself, a large barrel suddenly dropped upon its head, shattering and spilling its contents upon the square.

Looking up, Alex saw Ernest pulling a second barrel towards the edge when the creature righted itself. With an oath, Alex suddenly jumped forward. For a moment the two, the King and the creature, were locked together and then the creature struck Alex with a tremendous backhand. The King flew through the air and slammed into a shattered cart that the creature had thrown minutes before.

For Alex, the pain was excruciating as he looked down and saw a plank of bloody wood protruding from his stomach. He could see Jonathan and the others fighting the creature desperately, but it was advancing single mindedly upon Alex, almost ignoring their blows. Finally, it stood over him. His sword was gone, but he felt his dagger on his belt and he grasped it as the thing raised its arm.

As it raised its arm, Alex saw a small opening as the motion caused two of the plates upon its breast to part slightly. With an anguished cry, he lifted his arm and drove the dagger into the small opening. The creature let out a horrid scream of rage and staggered backwards, stumbling until at last it lost its balance completely and fell flat upon its back in the middle of the square.

Alex looked through a haze as his son and his men ran to him. Jonathan was screaming something, but he could not quite hear the words and men were running everywhere.

"It's alright," he began, "the pain, it's subsiding..." but they did not seem to hear him.

He stared up into the sky and saw the bright blue expanse, beautiful clouds slowly gliding by. They were safe now, he thought, his wife and daughter, Jonathan and Ernest, all of them, they were all safe. The creature would not hurt them, it could not hurt them anymore and the pain, the pain was gone. He looked up at Jonathan who was speaking to him and crying, why was he crying? The creature was dead, there was no reason to cry...

A memory suddenly entered his mind; he was sitting at an entertainment at Wharton, it was long ago and Ernest was speaking. Marie and the children were sitting beside him and they were all laughing and smiling and he was so happy, he had never been that happy before.

He suddenly realized that a man was standing, watching him. He had not noticed him before, but the man was watching him patiently and a beautiful woman was standing beside him. It took him a moment but the realization struck him like lightning.

"Mother," he whispered, "Father."

"Welcome home, Alex," smiled his Mother as she embraced him.

"I've missed you both so much," he began.

"And we've missed you too," smiled his Father.

"I have so much to tell you," he continued. "I have a wife now and children, the most wonderful wife and the best children..."

"We know, Alex," laughed his Mother.

And then he realized he was no longer in the square. He looked around and felt lost.

"Marie..." he began.

"She will be here before you know it, son," assured his Father. "Things happen both more quickly and more slowly here, but somehow, you won't mind."

Alex looked at them confused and they placed their arms around him and gently led him away.
Chapter 17

Jonathan was standing next to the pile where his Father had been thrown, holding his head in his hands and screaming out, "GET THE DOCTOR! SOMEONE GET THE DOCTOR!"

Men were flying about the square trying to comply as Ernest ran up and bent over his brother.

"ALEX!" he screamed. "ALEX!"

For a moment his brother seemed to look at him, seemed to try and focus on him and then he looked at his son and smiled and then, ever so slowly the light left his eyes.

"FATHER!" screamed Jonathan. "FATHER! GET THE DOCTOR!"

Men were running towards the three of them and slowed as they drew closer. Jonathan looked at their faces and saw tears, saw the men beginning to cry and drop to their knees, some in prayer, some in despair.

He looked to his Uncle Ernest and he saw the tears pouring down Ernest' cheeks as he sobbed uncontrollably.

"FATHER!" he screamed as more men came and slowed and then stopped beside him, staring at Alex as if in pain.

Through his misery, Ernest knew what Alex would want him to do, the last thing his brother would have wanted him to do for him. Fearing he had no voice, that his sobbing would make him unintelligible, he prayed for strength and taking a deep breath, dropped to his knee and proclaimed as loudly as he could manage, "THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE KING JONATHAN!"

Jonathan looked at him as if he had finally and truly gone mad.

"No," he muttered.

A soldier beside Ernest repeated, "THE KING IS DEAD, LONG LIVE KING JONATHAN!"

Jonathan stood, looking at them as if they were all something monstrous as the soldiers began to take up the cry, their proclamation partially strangled by their tears. He stared about, unable to comprehend and then his eyes fell upon the creature, but it was a creature no more.

Staggering forward he made his way to where the creature had lain dead and found instead a woman, a woman with long, flowing blonde hair. She stared up at the same sky that his Father stared at and the light had vanished from her eyes as well and in her chest stood his Father's dagger, driven into her body to the hilt.

Jonathan reached down and yanked the dagger from her breast and then glanced at the crowd that surround him.

"GET ME FIRE!" he screamed.

Guards ran off and quickly procured a torch and brought it to the new King. He took the torch and hesitated a moment, staring into her dead eyes before raising the torch and ramming it into her face, watching as her skin and hair and then her clothing caught fire. The guards let up a roar and began to throw piles of all that had been destroyed upon the body until an enormous fire stood in the center of the square and next to it stood the new King, unable to move or think or feel, unable to cry, just wishing that he had never seen this day.

Making his way back to his father, he wrapped his arms around his chest and wailed uncontrollably. His father had done what he had always done; he had risked his life to save them all and had proven how much he had loved them, thinking only of them until the very end. How would he tell his mother that she was a widow or his sister that she had no father? How could his father, the man he loved most in the world, how could he be gone?

***

Pauline stood beside Stasha and Donna on the shore near the lake that was beneath the castle at Wharton, eyeing the large crowd and praying for Jonathan's safety. They had been in the garden when the commotion had begun and he had kissed her and run after his Father and then the guards came and hustled them all to safety here in the depths beneath the castle.

To her surprise, she saw Anthony running down the stairs that led to the beach, his eyes wild, his face flush. He raced to Pauline and spoke rapidly.

"Did they return?"

"Who?" asked Pauline.

"Annalisse and the Queen?" he asked frantically.

"No," replied Stasha.

"I was giving messages to the staff," he stated, "I had messages from the Duke to deliver and I was catching up on paperwork with them when we heard that something had attacked the village. The soldiers would not let us through, they directed us all here!"

"They haven't returned yet," stated Stasha, "Or at least they hadn't. I don't know, we've been down here forever and no one seems to know anything."

Out of the crowd, Lady Heather suddenly seemed to emerge from the sand, her son in her arms, her appearance so sudden that Pauline gave a slight start.

"Have you heard anything?" she asked anxiously.

"Nothing," replied Pauline. "Where is Randy?"

"He saw Jonathan run out the door and followed him," replied Heather, fear apparent in her tone. "Soldiers came and brought the baby and I here, I was trying to keep him amused..."

To Pauline's surprise, Heather dissolved into tears. Wrapping an arm around her, she spoke to her softly, "I'm sure they are alright, Heather."

"What will I do if..." began Heather.

"Hush now," said Pauline gently, reaching out to take little Randy's hand. "Don't even think it. Everything will be alright..."

Suddenly a ripple seemed to work its way through the crowd. The murmuring that had been taking place had died away and all eyes had turned upon a soldier making his way down the long flight of stairs. He was dressed in full armor and it was evident that he had been in a very tough fight. His eyes seemed puffy and red, as if he had been sitting too close to a fire and his hair was plastered to his head from the sweat that ran freely about his face and neck. He held his sword in his hand and his helmet under his arm and when he reached the bottom of stairs, he looked about mechanically for a few minutes until he seemed to give up.

"PRINCESS PAULINE PLEASE!" he cried out.

Heather grasped one of Pauline's arms and Stasha grasped the other. Jonathan had rushed down to help fight the thing that was attacking the village. What had happened? Anthony strode forward, the women following in his wake, making their way through the crowds and coming to a halt before him. The soldier merely stood at the base of the stairs and to their surprise, made no attempt to draw any closer to them, a look of shock and despair on his features.

"This is the Princess Pauline," stated Anthony. He wanted about to ask about Annalisse, when the soldier surprised them all by dropping to his knee before Pauline.

"His Royal Highness instructs me to bring you to him in the throne room immediately," stated the soldier.

A shudder ran through the crowd. Was Jonathan dead?

"King Alex wishes to see me?" Pauline forced herself to ask.

Her mind in a whirl, she could barely force herself to stand still. Something must have happened to Jonathan, why else would Alex...

"No, milady," stated the guard, his tears flowing. "King JONATHAN sent me to fetch you. King Alex...is no more..."

"OH MY GOD!" screamed Stasha.

Pauline quickly grabbed her and Anthony was at her side as well as the older woman collapsed in tears.

"THE KING IS DEAD," continued the soldier, "LONG LIVE KING JONATHAN AND QUEEN PAULINE!"

The crowd repeated the words automatically as Pauline stood rooted to the spot. There must be some mistake, it could not be true. It was a nightmare, a horrible nightmare, why could she not wake up?

Heather moved to her and then took Stasha's arm from Pauline's grasp.

"Go to him," she instructed. "Go to Jonathan...you must go to Jonathan."

Pauline looked at her, unable to think or comprehend.

"Go to Jonathan," she repeated calmly, even though tears were streaming down her face.

Pauline nodded and slowly began to make her way up the stairs, the crowd slowly following behind her.

***

In the main foyer of Wharton, Pauline found utter chaos, soldiers and servants running back and forth and a noise she never, for the rest of her life, would forget; the sound of lamenting, the pained sobbing and unrestrained crying of men and women. Suddenly the sea of chaos broke and a small cart entered the main door. Upon the cart was spread multiple sheets, each one splotched with blood. They covered a body, the outline of which was apparent in profile and behind the cart, walking as if in a dream came Marie and Annalisse, both leaning heavily upon Jonathan. Behind them stood Ernest, sobbing and being supported by another soldier.

Her husband looked at her and their eyes locked and she watched as he dissolved into tears. In an instant she had them all in her arms, all three clasped tightly to her as they broke down and cried. They stood that way for a long time and then finally, Pauline let them go and turning to the crowd that surrounded them found whom she was looking for; she gestured to him and he drew closer.

"Doctor Algon," she whispered, "take his majesty and prepare him..."

Her voice broke and she could say no more. Algon, an elderly man of great dignity, bowed to her and whispered back, "Yes, your majesty."

Turning, he gestured to the guards and led them down the main hall to a room on the right where they halted the cart. Gently, gingerly, they picked up the body beneath the sheets and entered the room with the doctor and closed the door. Two of the guards returned to the cart and with great dignity, rolled it down the hallway towards the back of the castle and disappeared with it through a rear door.

Pauline wrapped an arm around Marie's waist and with Jonathan gently guided her into the throne room while Anthony held his wife in his arms and performed the same duty. Behind them, Donna emerged from the crowd and wrapping her arms around Ernest, followed them into the throne room, Joseph and Peter trailing behind their parents, looking miserable.

Pauline and Jonathan led Marie to her chair and gently eased her down into it. She looked up at Pauline and Pauline could not believe how beautiful and fragile she looked in that moment. Pauline took a seat beside her and held her hand as Marie looked at the floor. She did not sob, though the tears ran down her face, but occasionally sighed and said nothing, looking down and ignoring everyone.

The guards had found her and Annalisse and the other women in the basement. They had pulled open the trap door to find the Queen with a large knife in her hand, ready to fend off an attack. As they had emerged from the house, they had heard the cry of the King is dead. For a moment they were stunned and then Marie took off at a sprint, her long hair trailing behind her as she raced to the square and found her husband lying on a shattered cart, his body pierced by a piece of wood. She had held his face between her hands and kissed him, her tears falling upon his cheeks as she closed his eyes. Standing beside her, Annalisse had been inconsolable, screaming out for her Father and sobbing. When the men came to move Alex, Marie and Ernest had to restrain her daughter so that they might lift him and place him on the cart and then they had made the procession back to Wharton.

Her eyes glanced up at Jonathan, who stood before his Father's chair. He would not sit in the King's chair, he just could not, so he stood before the throne and looked out at the crowd. He saw Albert making his way through the crowd, his eyes puffy and red and for a moment thinking he had never seen Albert look so old. Albert drew closer and embraced him.

"I'm so sorry, Jonathan, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Oh God, I have lived too long..."

Jonathan held him for a long time. It was a time to cling to one another and to mourn.
Chapter 18

As evening fell on Parker's estate an elderly man disembarked from a small cart and slowly made his way down the drive and up to the front of the house. The guards recognized him and immediately ran to inform Brogdan that the Glorious One was here and wished to see him and young Jacob.

Laying on his bed, Brogdan considered what the Glorious One might want here now that Susan was gone and Parker dead. He thought of Jacob, the doctors had been unable to help the boy, his life hanging somewhere between life and death with no sign of which way it might go. While it was difficult for Brogdan to move, he forced himself out of bed and made his way downstairs with the assistance of several guards to meet the Glorious One in what had been Parker's drawing room.

The Glorious One seemed exhausted and looked as if he had been crying as Brogdan offered him a chair, which he took and sat upon heavily.

"You will need to leave this place by tomorrow," stated the Glorious One.

"I'm sorry?" asked Brogdan, not sure he had heard him correctly.

"You will need to leave this place by tomorrow," repeated the Glorious One. "The great evil that we had feared has come to pass. In a week, a mob of people will destroy this place; not one stone will remain on top of another. What they cannot destroy they will burn, all of this will soon simply cease to exist."

Brogdan did not know what to reply and the Glorious One looked at the floor and wiped his eyes.

"Take all of the evidence that you can find of Parker and Susan's treachery, it will be needed for the upcoming trials..."

"Jacob cannot be moved..." began Brogdan.

"The boy will come with me," stated the Glorious One, "he will be safe no-where else..."

"He cannot be moved..."

The Glorious One restrained him with an outstretched hand.

"Gather your men and leave this place," he stated. "You will receive confirmation of this in a few days, but the King has died; murdered by Lady Susan in the guise with which she injured you so badly. I beg you, say nothing to your men; they will seek to commit atrocities that you, in your present state, will be unable to stop. Once on the road, you will be able to control their actions more easily and they will have a goal, to get to Wharton and then on to the front. Yes, we will have a war, the Darmanians are already preparing to cross the border into Gronolo..."

Brogdan stared at him as if he were mad.

"It cannot be..."

"It is," replied the Glorious One. "The mob, in its rage will seek to kill Jacob, he must come with me. I have arranged a carriage, well, a cart to be precise... have your men carry him out to it immediately and then begin your preparations to leave."

For a moment, Brogdan sat, trying to absorb all that the Glorious One had said. He called out and instantly a guard appeared at the door. He looked to him and hesitated a moment and then spoke.

"Get three other men and bring a litter up to Lord Jacob's room. Place him on it and follow this man to his cart, he will instruct you on what to do."

The soldier looked at Brogdan and then to the Glorious One.

"Yes sir," he said quietly. The boy was in no condition to move, everyone knew that, but who knew the extent of the powers of the Glorious One?

"Get me Captain Aros," snapped Brogdan.

The guard saluted and withdrew, leaving the men alone together again.

"Take everything in Parker's study and everything in Susan's study," continued the Glorious One. "Also, everything in the cave..." he thought for a moment more. "Keep your troops on the march until you get to Wharton, do not stop for anything. You will hear many rumors and meet many frightened people but keep on until you have reached Wharton."

"Very well," stated Brogdan. "I will send messengers ahead..."

"Messengers are on their way, but they will arrive too late to save this place," stated the Glorious One, glancing about at the rich furnishings with a sigh. "Nothing will be left..."

Rising he moved slowly past Brogdan and then hesitated at the door.

"Be on the road by tomorrow, let nothing delay you..." and with that, he was gone.

A moment later, Captain Aros appeared and saluted Brogdan.

"Get the men to pack every item from the cave and the studies of the two traitors," he stated curtly. "We begin our march to Wharton tomorrow."

"But sir, you're in no condition..."

"We move tomorrow, Captain," interrupted Brogdan. "Also, send out two messengers in the direction of Wharton to intercept any messages that are being sent to us, do you understand?"

"As you command," replied the Captain.

"Now leave me," said Brogdan. "Tell the guards I will call them to assist me in a little while."

The Captain saluted and made his way out of the room. For a time, Brogdan sat in his chair, quietly giving vent to his grief. Alex had been his King and his friend and now he was gone. At last, he called the guard who reappeared with another to help him to his feet.

"Search the house," he instructed as they brought him back to the stairway. "We must gather every shred of evidence against the traitors and be on the road by tomorrow, so search thoroughly."

After they had gotten Brogdan to bed, the men immediately turned to obey.

***

Jonathan at last released Albert and turned to face the entire court. He thought of a conversation he had once had with his Father just after an assassin had tried to stab the King to death in his study. It was then that he learned that he would be his Father's heir. He remembered asking him then, "So I will be the anchor?" and Alex telling him that yes, he would be the anchor, that everyone would come to him and expect him to give them answers. Jonathan took a deep breath and thought of his Father; he would not disappoint him and betray the trust he had shown in him.

"Lord Albert," he stated, his voice steady, "you will send a messenger to Sir Brogdan, Sir Edward and Baron Fiskar. It is obvious that something has happened during their mission to arrest the traitors against us, because the thing that murdered my Father transformed into Lady Susan after it was killed." A gasp ran through the room as Marie and Annalisse began to cry violently. "I order you to send a second force to march south towards the traitor's estate in case the initial force was overwhelmed, do I make myself clear."

"Yes, your majesty," whispered Albert.

"Captain of the guard," called out Jonathan. The man forced his way through the crowd and bowed to Jonathan.

"Double the guard and see to it that those who were injured are being cared for; get me a list of those who are ready for duty. In the morning, we will head for the pass at Gronolo. We know that the traitors were conspiring with the King of Darma, which means that we can expect trouble there."

"But your majesty," began the captain of the guard. "Are you not forgetting the coronation..."

Jonathan glared at the man in a fury which he could barely contain.

"There will be no coronation until my Father is avenged," he growled.

Pauline stood and crossed to her husband, taking his arm.

"Jonathan, Father was not a vengeful man," she pleaded quietly. "What has happened is horrible, but our job is to seek justice, not vengeance."

Jonathan patted the hand that she held his arm with and then nodded.

"You are right, my love," he said softly. "There will be no coronation, until justice is served." He looked at the captain with tears in his eyes, "Please do what I have requested. Lord Albert, please meet me in the...library once you have sent the messages I have requested. We must send for our commanders, there is much work to do..."

Kissing his wife softly on the cheek, Jonathan stepped down from the platform and made his way through the crowd as his commanders followed him and the guards ran to obey. The group turned to Pauline, uncertain as to what to do. For a moment, Pauline looked at the floor and then she spoke.

"We should pray," she stated softly.

Blessing herself, she began to pray for Alex and for the other men killed today. When they were finished, she asked those assembled to see if they might help with the wounded and taking Marie and Annalisse each by the arm, led them into the family room behind the thrones to mourn privately.

***

The carriage was barely two miles from his father's home when the Glorious One turned to the prone figure lying beside him. Gently he placed a hand upon Jacob's shoulder and spoke to him softly.

"Jacob, you must awaken. The time for sleep is over..."

Jacob stirred slowly. With great effort he opened his eyes and moaned, "Oh God..."

"You are in pain," stated the Glorious One.

"I've never hurt so badly, oh God," he moaned, unable to move or think beyond the pain he was feeling.

"Lie still," commanded the Glorious One and he held his hands over Jacob.

Jacob tried to focus on the old man's eyes, but it was as if he were seeing everything through a sheet of flame. His body felt as if all of his limbs had been pulled apart, as if every bone had been ripped from its natural space. Slowly the pain began to subside, slowly the pain eased. It was a mercy to feel specific joints hurt and specific parts of his body ache and slowly, those too began to subside.

A feeling of exhaustion overtook him, but he struggled to remain awake at the Glorious One's urging. At last he felt as if he might recover, as if all hope were not lost, but there was still aching and heaviness in all of his limbs and his body felt as if someone had beaten him severely.

He stared at the Glorious One, who seemed to have absorbed the pain into himself, a look of agony on his face.

"My father is dead," stated Jacob.

"Yes," the Glorious One replied sadly, "there have been many deaths..."

"And what of the bitch who arranged for his murder?" growled Jacob.

"She had nothing to do with the death of your father's body," replied the Glorious One, leaning back in the carte and breathing heavily. "She certainly helped him kill himself in other ways, but his physical death was an act of revenge made against him by men he had wronged."

"Revenge?" asked Jacob, forcing himself to concentrate. "In what way did he wrong these men you speak of?"

"In his arrogance," rasped the old man, "he made fools of many men; disgraced them and soiled their homes. A band of them took revenge on him, THAT is how he died."

Jacob nodded and then remembered, "I saw him after he died..."

The Glorious One became more alert, "What did you see?"

"I saw him with the angel..." began Jacob.

"Your mother," interrupted the Glorious One.

Jacob hesitated, "Yes, my mother. She was weeping over him as he knelt before her and then he was gone."

The Glorious One nodded and did not speak for a moment.

"We must pray for his soul," he stated finally. "It is all we can do..."

"What happened to that thing she summoned up?" asked Jacob.

The Glorious One looked out the window, "She did not summon it up, she became the thing that you saw. The creature that attacked you... she and it are no more..."

Jacob smiled, "The world is a better place."

The old man looked down at him and shook his head, "The world will not be a better place for some time. Death is amongst us and he will have his fill..."
Chapter 19

Fiskar read the dispatch that Edward had handed him in stunned silence. For a moment it occurred to him that his own messages must finally be reaching Wharton about this time and that the new King had finally been appraised of all that had happened at Parker's estate.

"Could we have done more?" he muttered, looking at Edward, who struggled to remain composed.

"You have done all that you could, Baron," stated Edward softly. "We are mere men fighting an evil that we do not understand...We need to inform the Lord Trillian and the troops..."

Fiskar held up a restraining hand, "Not yet. This type of news needs to be delivered properly or difficulties can arise." Fiskar had been sitting on his cot when Edward had entered and rose, beginning to pace in his tent as he thought. "We will send Trillian home with an escort, if the men find out about this, his wife may be dealt with sharply. How is Lord Wilton?"

Edward shook his head, "Inconsolable..."

Fiskar shook his head, "We need to double the guard on the prisoners and change the order of march. They will be placed in front of the group where I can watch them and anyone who is guarding them. We need to maintain discipline and we need to get to Wharton sooner rather than later."

"Agreed, milord," replied Edward.

Sitting down at the field desk at the foot of his bed, Fiskar scribbled a note to Brogdan. He listened to a moment as Edward tried to stifle his tears. Fighting his own, he forced himself to speak in a normal voice.

"Sir Edward, could you please turn away?" he asked and then called for a messenger.

"Take this to Lord Brogdan immediately," he instructed the man as he entered the tent. "Let there be no delay in him receiving this and summon the captain of the watch and Lord Trillian."

The messenger saluted and was gone. Turning to Edward, Fiskar frowned.

"That will not do, Sir Edward," he stated firmly. "You cannot be seen to be upset, not yet. Keep yourself in check, sir, until we do what we have said we would do."

Edward nodded and dried his eyes, turning his back again to the Baron as Lord Trillian entered the tent with the captain of the guard. Fiskar returned to his desk and continued writing.

"Is everything alright?" asked Trillian.

"You need to return to your estate immediately," stated Fiskar, handing him the note. "Do not read this until you are on the road, milord, you will understand everything then. Let nothing delay you and your wife from returning home immediately. Captain, you are to take an escort of four men and escort his Lordship and his wife back home, do you understand?"

"Yes, milord," replied the captain, trying not to show the curiosity he felt.

"Let nothing detain you, good night."

Trillian looked at the two men, perplexed, but the Baron's dismissal left no room for discussion. With a bow, he and the captain were gone.

"In an hour, I will make the announcement," stated Fiskar softly to Edward, "and then we can all mourn..."

***

The Duke of Rectra held the last piece of correspondence from the man he thought was Ragar in his hands and tried to calm his nerves. No wonder Ragar was so insistent on returning to the kingdom as soon as he could. The letter had been concealed in a gift and had read as if it were a birthday greeting from a soldier to his liege, nothing that would attract attention had it been opened and searched. Deciphering the code that the letter contained had been a matter of minutes for Rectra and the information it contained was completely unacceptable.

Quickly throwing on his robe, Rectra made his way down the hallway in search of the King. Rectra was in a difficult position, on one hand he had to tell the King and on the other hand, he knew the consequences of what the message revealed. Tidon would be furious, but there was nothing for it, he had to be told.

Entering the King's study, Rectra found the King brow beating his admiral of the navy.

"You must be able to supply an army," he bellowed.

"Sire, I might be able to supply an army," replied the man uneasily. "One army, sire, not two..."

"We cannot hope to maintain our supply trains through the mountains and out onto the plains of Zambelia," yelled Tidon, pointing to the map on his table. "We must have supply lines from the ports on the coast..."

"Sire, I understand, but we only have so many ships," explained the admiral. "If I split my forces, both armies will starve. I cannot supply both armies fully, we do not have enough ships..."

"I have been building ships for years now!" snapped the King. "The treasury has gone bankrupt building ships..."

"The Zambelians still outnumber us two to one. Our ships of the line..."

"You can't fight the Zambelians because they are too numerous," snapped the King, "and you can't supply the armies because you are too few. What the hell good are you?"

"Sire, I must speak to you," interrupted Rectra.

The King drew his dagger, "Can't you see that I'm busy Rectra? Go and write a report..."

"Sire, it is most urgent," replied Rectra, his tone causing the King to pause.

With a grimace, the King waved the admiral away, "Get out, I will summon you if I need an idiot!"

The man bowed and left, grateful to be rid of the King; let Rectra take the royal abuse, that was his job.

"What?" snapped the King, sitting heavily in his chair.

"I've just received this dispatch sire," stated Rectra, brandishing the letter. "It is from Ragar; that fool Parker is going to start the rebellion this week!"

Tidon's head snapped back as if he had been slapped.

"He's WHAT?"

"Ragar states that Parker and his wife think they have enough support to seize the throne upon the return of the Princess and her new bridegroom," began Rectra. "His plan is to take advantage of the welcome home festivities to march upon Wharton before King Alex can seek any assistance from his forces stationed to the north."

"He could never succeed," replied Tidon. "The entire idea is crazy."

"It might play into your hands, sire," began Rectra.

"Ass!" grumbled Tidon. "He'll attack Wharton and be crushed. It will happen too soon! We must act now!"

"Sire, we are not ready..." began Rectra.

"Arrange for us to leave for the pass tonight," replied the King. "Summon my messengers, in two days we attack; in four days, we will be in Gronolo!"

***

"I should help with the wounded," murmured Marie softly.

Annalisse squeezed her hand and tried to speak but could make no sound. She could not control her crying, she had cried so hard that she had lost her voice. Anthony handed her a goblet with water and spoke to his mother-in-law for his wife.

"Mother, the doctors are taking care of them, they are as comfortable as they can be tonight," he stated quietly. "Perhaps if you are feeling up to it tomorrow..."

Marie shook her head, "When will they finish with my Alex?"

Anthony glanced at Annalisse and then said softly, "They finished a short time ago, Mother. I thought we would all go tomorrow morning..."

"I am going to him now," stated Marie, rising and moving to the door.

"We will go with you," stated Anthony, holding Annalisse once she was on her feet and walking with her as Marie led the way towards the stairs.

The guards bowed to her, many of them crying, but Marie did not notice. She needed to see Alex, needed to be near him. He had come to protect her and to protect Annalisse, he wanted them to be safe, it was his last act of love, to protect them.

She thought back to her first years here, to the first months of her marriage many years before, of the day she had stood in their room and realized that Alex cared for her. It had shaken her to her very core, that this man, this wonderful, loving, kind man cared for her. He had been the light of her life all of these years and now; no, don't think of now or any day. Just remember to breathe, breathe one breath at a time and try to go no further in your thinking than that; maybe someday you will consider an entire day, but not now, never now.

They arrived at the door; guards standing on either side as she entered the room and she saw the priests standing beside a box intoning prayers. Drawing closer she looked down; her Alex was all in white and his hair was combed, his beard neat. Gray powdered his hair and his beard and he looked so calm, so clean, so peaceful. She reached out as she had done thousands of times and touched his face and her heart broke anew. His face was cold and there was no softness there, there was no life there, there was no Alex there and she leaned over his face and kissed him and moaned.

"Oh, my love, what have they done to you? What have they done to you my angel?"

She placed her head on his chest and wailed and felt arms, Anthony's arms, wrap gently around her and pull her off of her husband. He guided her to a chair where she collapsed. She would not leave, she would stay all night despite their insisting that she go and get some rest. What did she need sleep for; why even remember to breathe...
Chapter 20

The two men walked down the long corridor, their heads down, each lost in his own thoughts, each trying to ignore the sound of sobbing that seemed to come from every doorway that they walked past. Each held in his heart enormous pain and an overpowering sense of loss and each knew that no matter what, he had to do his duty.

Ernest walked with Jonathan to his door, it was very late and they planned to leave tomorrow. He stared at his nephew and felt the crushing weight that had descended upon his shoulders and knew, as he had known with his beloved brother, that there was nothing he could do to remove it from him. He would carry it as Alex had carried it, the only relief would be death itself.

He and the other men had done their best to assist Jonathan, to plan with him, to offer suggestions on how best to proceed. Each man had found a way to convey to him his loyalty and unswerving willingness to serve, but no one could relieve his burden or lessen his grief. There were so many unknowns, what had happened to Brogdan and Parker? What would they find as they drew closer to Gronolo?

His thoughts drifted to Albert; he had never realized how old Albert had gotten until tonight. Losing Alex had overwhelmed him and he sat in the meeting, barely able to speak, lost in the grief of a father for his son, unable to assist Jonathan while wanting desperately to do so. As they approached the door, Jonathan turned to him with tears in his eyes.

"Uncle Ernest, I have no one to leave here," he said, forcing back the tears. "I need you with me and Albert just can't handle what has to be done here."

"Your mother is here, Jonathan," stated Ernest. "She and Donna and Pauline; they are strong, Jonathan. We will know Brogdan's fate before we are gone two days, until then, nothing will happen, everyone is too stunned..."

"How can I leave them now?" asked Jonathan, feeling wretched.

"Because it is what you must do," replied Ernest. "They understand; they may not understand it in their minds now, but in their hearts, they will understand."

"I will not even be here for..." Jonathan let the thought finish itself as he began to weep.

Ernest hugged him and murmured over and over again, "He understands, Jonathan, of all of us, he understands most..."

***

As Jonathan entered his room, Pauline stood and flew into his arms. She held him for a long time as he clung to her, crying bitterly. She took her handkerchief and wiped gently at his tears and murmured over and over to him, "I'm sorry, Jonathan, I'm so sorry..."

It seemed a long time, but at last, he seemed to calm down. He held her tightly and she could hear his breathing, soft and rhythmic in her ear as he pulled her close to him. To her surprise, he reached up and touched her face. She stared into his red and swollen eyes and her heart broke for him, for the pain he was carrying and the terrifying weight that had descended upon him. He leaned down and kissed her gently and then more urgently.

She felt him stoop down and sweep her into his arms. She did not know what to say or what to do as he placed her on their bed. Reaching down, he began to pull her clothing from her until she found herself nude before him. Instinctively she understood, even though she was too numb to process it as he stripped and took her into his arms.

His love making was urgent, almost harsh and he kissed her with a passion that seemed almost too much to bear. She thought her lips would bleed from the way his mouth descended upon hers and her ribs would crack from the strength of his arms when he clasped her to him. She held onto him and told him over and over again that she loved him as he thrust violently against her. It was as if he were emptying his pain into her along with his love and though she was frightened, she accepted it, knew that he needed to release it even as he needed to know that someone still loved him unconditionally, that someone would still be there for him and never let him go.

They made love for a long time and then, exhausted, Jonathan fell asleep in her arms. Pauline held him tightly and cried softly, finally giving vent to her own grief. What would happen to them? How could she hope to help him?

***

Marie had only left once during the night. She had gone to bath and change, sending servants to enter their room and retrieve what she needed. It was all too raw for her to attempt to enter their room, the loss too fresh and the realization too painful to face that as well.

Anthony had finally persuaded Annalisse to go to bed early in the morning, promising her that he would see that her mother was not alone. With great effort, he had managed to stay awake the entire night, the events of the previous day weighing heavily upon him. Annalisse had slept only an hour or so before she too returned to grieve her father at her mother's side.

Jonathan had arrived early in the morning also and had stayed for an hour or so with his mother and sister. Anthony was finally able to share a word with him when he arose to leave.

"I will go with you, sire," stated Anthony in a soft whisper. "If it is as we fear, they will be attacking Gronolo even before we arrive."

"I need you here, Anthony," muttered Jonathan. "I am sorry, I understand your desire, but I need someone here whom I can trust and who will be looking out for their best interests. Emotions are at a fevered pitch and I need you, level headed and steady, to be an influence here. I am sorry, my brother, but I beg you, please do not press me on this; do me this favor. I promise to send for you as soon as I can."

Anthony grimaced, "I will do anything for you, Jonathan, I will do anything for your sister, you know that..."

"Then do this for her and for me, I beg you," replied Jonathan, grasping his arm. "I am abandoning them in their grief Anthony, I beg you to help me."

Anthony embraced him and stated simply, "I will do all that you ask."

Jonathan made his way to his mother and sank to his knees before her, "I must go now, Mother. I am sorry, with my whole heart I am sorry..."

"Do not be sorry, Jonathan," whispered Marie. "Go and make your father proud; be the man that he knew you would be. He never doubted you, my love, he never doubted you and neither do I. You must leave, we understand, no one here will condemn you for doing what your father himself would do; for going to protect us all." As her tears fell, she kissed him on both cheeks, "Be careful, my love. You must return to us; your sister and me and most of all, to little Pauline."

"I love you mother," he replied, tears in his eyes.

"And I you," she answered and then dropped her face into her hands and wept.

Annalisse grabbed hold of him and hugged him tightly as he rose, "Go and do what you must do, Jonathan, God be with you. I love you."

"I love you too," he replied, kissing her on her cheek and then withdrawing.

As he entered the hallway, he saw Pauline approaching him. She refused to cry, would not make this even more difficult on him. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly for a moment.

"I will do all that I can to help you Jonathan," she pledged. "I beg you, please be careful. Return to me, my love, please worry about nothing else but returning to me."

"I will not know happiness again until I see you, my love," he said softly, kissing her tenderly on the lips.

Taking her hand, he walked with her out into the courtyard where the men were assembled. The captain of the guard held Jonathan's horse as he approached. Turning, he kissed Pauline one last time and then mounted his horse. Looking to his left, he saw Prince Ernest and Lord Randy looking at him purposefully. Turning to his right, he saw his commanders and looking back at Pauline, he saw her standing between Albert and Stasha.

"God bless you all," said Jonathan and then with a kick, his mount flew from the courtyard, the men following in his wake, the cavalry close behind.

Pauline held Stasha and Albert, both whom openly wept and after the last of the horsemen had departed. For a time, they stood, staring out into the darkness and then, gently, Pauline guided them back into the castle, into the unknown.
Chapter 21

Baron Fiskar looked exhausted as he read the various messages he had received that morning as he and his troops marched back towards Wharton. They should arrive there either later today or tomorrow and the weight of the past few days was wearing him down. For the first time in a few weeks, he began to notice his age and while he worked mightily to keep the men from seeing it, he knew that he was quickly approaching the end of his tether.

Beside a stream, he called a halt and ordered the horses be given water and that the men take lunch, while he repaired to a shaded spot under a tree with Edward and Lord Wilton. Fiskar handed the correspondence to Edward and Wilton in turn and then spoke quietly.

"The King does not command it," he began hoarsely, "but under the circumstances, I believe it would be best, Sir Edward, if you and Lord Wilton left us and proceeded back to Wharton as quickly as you are able. If you take the Edgerton Road to the King's Way, you will save some time and you should be there today by late afternoon."

"Sir Brogdan is two day's march behind us," stated Edward. "Do you think it might be wise to suggest that he go back?"

Fiskar shook his head, "We will need every available man at Wharton and to go north to the passes. The Queen needs your help, it sounds as if Lord Albert is overwhelmed and many of the King's advisors are with King Jonathan, leaving her majesty without support. It could not be helped, I can see that..."

"What of the violence that the Glorious One spoke to Brogdan about?" asked Edward. "Should we do nothing?"

"That place should not stand," replied Fiskar. "Let them vent their anger at a building, Sir Edward."

Edward nodded and looked at Wilton.

"We should be on our way," stated Wilton quietly as he looked past the two men. It was as if he could not bear to look at another human being in his pain and shame. "All that the Baron says is true. Also, I wish to get to Jonathan and the troops as soon as possible. There will be fighting and I intend to serve him as long as I can and as best as I can."

He wishes to die, thought Edward. After what his wife did to him, he seeks release from his pain in an honorable death. He glanced back down the road, towards the end of their line of march. He did not see the carriage carrying the Lady Ellen's body, but he knew it was there, making its final journey to rest with her ancestors in her father's family tomb. Would Wilton tell his in-laws of his wife's last hours, he wondered, or let the gossips furnish the details? Perhaps battle was the best alternative, to die quickly and avoid wagging tongues.

"Will you be alright, milord?" asked Edward to Baron Fiskar.

"I will get these men back to Wharton," stated the Baron, "and I will offer my services to her majesty. I will not go north with Lord Wilton; time has denied me that privilege."

Edward nodded and then turned to Wilton, "We should be leaving, milord."

Wilton nodded and then turned to Fiskar, "You will make sure that my wife's body...that no..."

"She will be handled with the utmost respect," replied Fiskar. "Godspeed on your journey, gentlemen."

"And to you," replied Edward.

The two men bowed and quickly made their way to their horses. In a short time, all sight of them was lost to the Baron as they proceeded quickly off and over the horizon on the road to Wharton.

***

"Does your majesty have any orders?" asked the commander of the guard.

Pauline absently glanced behind her, expecting to see Marie and then turning, realized that the man was addressing her. SHE was "your majesty". She found herself breathing heavily for a moment, she knew that it was so, but now for the first time, with Jonathan gone, it was real, a horrible reality. Closing her eyes for a moment, she gathered herself and then thought of what she must do; for herself, for Jonathan and for their family.

"If you would, please, send me several messengers," she replied as she moved into the library with Stasha and Albert.

A moment later, four messengers appeared and bowed to her, awaiting her commands. Pauline moved to the first one and spoke to him softly.

"If you would please, I need you to go to my parent's home in Lanclyn, to my father, Lord Reginald. Please tell him that I need him and my mother to come here immediately. He will understand..."

"Should I await his reply?" asked the messenger.

Pauline nodded, "Yes, please..."

The messenger bowed and ran out to obey her order.

Turning to the next messenger, she considered her words carefully, "If you would please, go to my husband's estate, Angelrod, do you know the place?"

"Yes, your majesty," replied the messenger.

"Please, go there and go to my neighbor, the Lady Tara..." Pauline considered her next words; should she write out her request? No, there was no time, not now. "Go to Lady Tara and explain to her all that has happened. I am certain that she knows the main details...Go to her and request that she accompany you back here, to Wharton. Explain that the King is not here and that I am requesting her presence...I wish to speak with her. It is not an order. Explain to her that if she does not wish to come, I understand completely. Do you understand?"

The messenger nodded, "Yes, your majesty, as you wish."

The man turned to leave when Pauline spoke, "Remember, it is not an order."

The man nodded, "Yes, milady."

Turning to the third messenger, she looked to the floor, "If you would, please, go to the bishop and explain that I request him to come and see me. We need to arrange...I need his help. Tell him, if he would come at his earliest convenience, I would deeply appreciate it."

"Yes, your majesty."

Pauline looked at the final messenger, "I ask you, please, to be ready. I know messages have been sent out seeking Baron Fiskar and Sir Brogdan; I may need to respond immediately, I don't know. If you would please stand at the ready..."

"I will be within earshot, your highness," stated the man, his heart full of sympathy for this soft-spoken young girl.

Turning to Albert, Pauline asked him slightly, "Albert, is there anything else that you think we should do?"

Albert shook his head, "I am sorry, your highness, but I can think of nothing. I am numb, my dear, I wish I could be of help..."

Pauline took his hand and squeezed it gently, "I know I can depend upon you, Albert, thank you."

Pauline looked at Stasha and cleared her throat, "I think that for the next few days, Stasha, it would be best if you stayed with Mother and Annalisse."

Stasha looked at her sadly, "There is so much to do, Pauline, so much to plan...Who will run the kitchen?"

Pauline considered it a moment and then signaled one of the servants.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Do you know Ellen?" asked Pauline.

The woman looked at her and nodded, "The old woman, milady?"

"Yes," replied Pauline, "please ask her to come to me immediately."

"But Pauline," whispered Stasha, "she wanted to kill you. She'll poison us all!"

Pauline shook her head, "No Stasha, she did not want to kill me, if she had, she would have done it. No, that evil thing is dead; there are new evils to contend with..."

Ellen entered the room and made her way to Pauline, dropping to her knees before her. Pauline had heard Ellen's confession, had heard of the terrible things she had witnessed and had forgiven her, certain that she was never a willing accomplice in anything Susan had planned.

"You wish to see me, milady?" asked Ellen.

"Ellen, I need Stasha to stay with her majesty, Queen Marie. It is a most difficult time for her and she needs all of the people who love her around her," explained Pauline. "I know you've run kitchens before; I know it is an imposition, but will you do this for me and take over the kitchen here so that Stasha could be with her majesty?"

Ellen stared up at her, "But milady, after all that I told you..."

"It is in the past, now Ellen," stated Pauline, pulling the older woman to her feet. "Please, help me..."

The old lady embraced her, hugging her tightly, "I will do anything for you, milady. Anything..."

***

Tidon marched at the head of his troops, his commanders offering reports and information as they moved along the roads, drawing closer to the pass to Gronolo. Tidon reviewed in his head all that had been done, the messengers sent to the other two armies to attack immediately, the message to the Lord Admiral of the Navy to set out immediately to resupply the eastern army once it had broken through the pass into Zambelia.

It was a heady feeling, the men marching towards conquest, the sun shining, the feeling of power. His commands were law and soon, they would be law in Zambelia and Gronolo and Darma would be the most powerful kingdom in the world.

As his mount took a rise, Tidon drew to a halt and the march stopped, everyone grinding to a halt as the king stood in the saddle and looked out over the valley below. The massive castle of Basilisk could be seen a mile beyond the opening to the pass, even at this distance a structure suggesting enormous size and weight. His army would lay siege to it and then move on swiftly towards the border between Gronolo and Zambelia. They would be through the duchy in four days, smash King Alex' garrison at the pass and flood into Zambelia like a tidal wave.

"Rectra!" snapped the King.

The Duke appeared as if by magic at his side, looking awkward in his mail, a sword at his side. The King could not contain a smile, a squire could easily unseat the Duke, but he was needed to tend to things and it amused Tidon to see him play at war.

"Yes, your majesty?" asked Rectra.

"Send a diplomatic messenger to the Castle of Basilisk ordering its immediate surrender. Give them one hour to respond. If they do not respond in that time, we will attack, understood?"

Rectra repressed a desire to sigh; despite all of his work, war had come anyway.

"As my king commands," replied Rectra, moving off to seek his travel desk in order to compose the note.

Turning to his commander, Tidon barked, "Put your men in position to march through the pass and immediately attack the castle."

"May victory be ours!" shouted the commander, the cry being taken up by all of the men as messengers flew forth to carry the orders to the troops.

"Once we settle with the Duke," Tidon growled, "we will settle with the King..."
Chapter 22

The man who sat opposite Ragar in his dark cell had a long, thin face, dark hair and was dressed almost exclusively in black. His dark eyes seemed never to blink and his voice was quiet and cold and unemotional. He looked at Ragar and nodded slightly before speaking.

"You understand the charges against you," he stated.

"I do, but I am not guilty of..."

"You are guilty," stated the man. "We have no doubt and as you are spy, as proven by the information in your possession at the time of your arrest, we have no reason to give you a trial. We will execute you immediately."

"I appeal to..." began Ragar, rising from his bunk, but a guard beside him thrust him back down upon the mattress as the man spoke.

"You can admit your crime and be executed by beheading, a quick and painless death, which is more than you gave that poor girl you murdered," stated the man. "However, if you continue to deny your guilt, you will be executed in a more painful way. The choice is yours."

"I did nothing wrong!" snapped Ragar.

"You have made your choice," snapped the man, rising up and motioning to the guard.

Ragar watched as the man opened the cell door, it was now or never. Lurching off of the cot, he jammed his way past the guard and out into the corridor that led to the door to freedom. He could hear the guards yelling behind him as he picked up speed and flew through the door and out into the street beyond. With all of his strength, he forced his legs to run as they had never run before, desperate to put distance between himself and the guards. He had run down the block and spotted the livery stable, he would steal a horse and escape into the hills. It was not until he had entered the stable that his mind suddenly thrust a thought beyond escaping into head.

Turning, he saw no pursuit, heard no commotion. Looking about anxiously, he saw nothing in the stable, no horses, no people, nothing. He was about to run back out into the street when the heavy barn doors slammed shut from the outside. He heard a heavy bar slide across the doors, trapping him inside the barn. Trapping him for what?

He spotted the ladder leading up into the hay loft and was headed for it when he saw a set of heavy boots descending the ladder followed by the sound of others above it. He began to run towards the back of the barn, but from the last two stalls, four men suddenly appeared and blocked his way. He ran back towards the doors he had come through and threw himself against them, but they did not budge. Turning, he saw a line of ten men peering at him, bows in hand.

The guard who had been speaking to him in his jail cell stepped out from behind the line with a grimace. Nodding to the line of men, he watched in terror as they all placed arrows in their bows. The guard smiled.

"The report will read that you were killed while attempting to escape," stated the guard.

"I SURRENDER!" screeched Ragar.

The bowmen all took aim and at the same moment, let their arrow fly. He felt himself pierced in ten different spots, his body pinned to door behind him. He tried to scream, but one of the arrows had pierced his chest and he had no air and all he could do was gag and choke as each man in the line pulled another arrow out of his quiver.

"By bits and pieces, mi 'lads," growled the guard, eyeing him with disgust. "Remember, this is for King Alex..."

***

Jonathan rode on in silence, thinking of Pauline, his beloved bride, his life. He had left her, left her with no instructions, had abandoned her to the court, to all that she disliked as he rode off to seek justice. How could she not hate him? He thought of last night, of how rough and selfish he had been in his grief and the feeling of anger and pain almost overwhelmed him. The person he needed most now was miles behind him and he would not see her again until...until when?

Glancing to his right, he saw his Uncle Ernest riding, eyes straight ahead, eyes red and puffy, face in a pained grimace. He had lost his brother, his best friend, had left his wife and children to follow his nephew into a new madness, a new war. What pain must he be feeling? He had never known his Uncle to have been so long without a smile and now it seemed none of them would ever smile again.

He glanced to his left and saw Randy, who glanced back and gave him a respectful nod. He had seen Randy say good-bye to his little boy and to Heather. He had never seen Heather so distraught, though she had fought to put up a valiant front. How must Randy feel to leave his family, to go off to possibly die?

"I will watch over your mother and sister until your return," Heather had whispered in his ear as she had hugged him farewell.

He wanted to scream, to cry and found he could do nothing. He was the King now and the weight on his chest seemed only to increase.

What of his mother and his sister? Annalisse had held him so tightly he thought he would pass out. When he had come down this morning, she had prayed over him, had blessed him in his father's name, had told him to have faith, all in a voice so hoarse that he could barely understand her.

His mother had held him as if she were numb, her arms wrapped around him, but her face blank, her eyes vacant. The love of her life was gone and as they had entered the room he felt her shudder.

He touched his chest, as he had left, Pauline had handed him a note and told him to read it tonight when he stopped. What could she say to him? His father's death, abandoning his new bride and family, it was his worst nightmare come true.

A voice interrupted his thoughts. He was so distracted that he had no idea who had spoken and was not even certain that they had spoken to him. He looked at Ernest who was looking back in his direction, but behind him and he turned that way and saw Randy pointing at something.

"What did you say?" he asked, confused.

"Behind us, milord," stated Randy. "Look behind us..."

Jonathan glanced behind him and then reined his horse to a stop, turning to look back down the road from where they had just come.

Behind them was a large troop of cavalry and in the distance the infantry was seen marching towards them, but between the two groups was another group, a massive group of peasants. They were dressed in all sorts of assorted clothing, there was no rhyme or reason to their physical appearance, each one holding a sack, either in one of their hands or thrown over their shoulders and in the other hand or over the other shoulders was a tool. Axes, scythes, blades of every shape and configuration, stout sticks, even rocks, every one of them armed and every one of them joining the march towards the north.

Jonathan eased his mount back down the road from whence he had come until he had passed through his troops and stood at the head of the line of peasants. Looking out over the fields he saw long lines of men all equipped in the same manner, streaming towards the road to join the procession. He looked out and saw angry faces, tear stained faces, each with a determined look and fire in their eyes.

One man stepped forward and shouted, "DEATH TO THE MURDERERS OF KING ALEX! LONG LIVE KING JONATHAN!"

The cry was taken up by those near him and soon was ripping across the valley, out into the fields and all along the road.

Randy had drawn close up to Jonathan as the waves of noise washed over them both. Leaning closer to him, he yelled above the din.

"WHAT SHOULD WE DO, SIRE?"

Jonathan looked at him and then, drawing his sword, replied, "ADVANCE!"

A mighty roar followed the King as he spurred his horse back to the front of the column and the march resumed.

***

Pauline sat quietly in the library and listened to the last of Edward's report. She had read all that the Baron had sent her and had closed her eyes at the Edward's last words. He stood, Wilton beside him, feeling exhausted.

Pauline quietly rose and crossed to Wilton and, to his surprise, embraced him.

"My dear cousin, I am so sorry," she whispered. "I cannot imagine your pain..."

Wilton began to cry and the two held each other for a long moment. Pauline guided him to a seat and then turned to Edward and bade him sit down.

"What you poor men have been through," she whispered.

"Our mission was a failure, milady," moaned Edward.

Pauline shook her head, "I do not see it that way and I am certain Jonathan will not see it that way either. You did your best to protect Jacob, to fulfil the King's orders...you have no reason to reprimand yourself, Sir Edward. Nor you Wilton..."

"Milady," began Wilton through his tears, "I respectfully request to be allowed to join our King..."

"I am sorry, Wilton, no," replied Pauline softly. The word sounded so unnatural coming from her that neither man was certain that they heard her properly.

"No, milady?" asked Wilton.

Pauline shook her head, "No. I cannot...I cannot spare you here at the moment. I need help here..."

"But milady, Jonathan," began Wilton.

"You will go to Jonathan, I promise," she stated, "but not yet. Please, understand that I need you here. Please, Wilton..."

Wilton nodded and cried softly as his head sagged to his chest, his exhaustion and pain overwhelming him.

Looking to Edward, Pauline continued, "Do you know how long it will be until the Baron arrives?"

"A day, at most two, your majesty," replied Edward. With a grimace, he spoke to Pauline in a confidential tone, "I fear that the Baron is a...spent force, your majesty. He will offer his services and you could have no finer defender here at Wharton, but to send him forth..."

"He will stay here," she replied softly. "I am afraid that Lord Albert is in much in the same condition. The loss of the King...circumstances have overwhelmed him, so I will need you, Sir Edward, to assist more than ever."

Edward bowed, "My service is yours and his majesty's."

Pauline considered them both for a moment and then said softly, "You both look exhausted, so I think it best that you go and get some rest and then, please, come and see me once you have eaten and had some sleep. I must go with my mother and sister to the cathedral with his majesty's body. We will speak later if you do not mind, in the meantime, please go and rest."

Both men rose and bowed as Pauline slide quietly out of the room. Edward put an arm around Wilton's shoulder.

"Come, milord, let us do as her highness commands..."

Wilton walked numbly towards the door. Sleep was his only relief, death would be a blessing.
Chapter 23

"Wharton?" Lady Tara stared at the messenger as if he had lost his mind.

"It is what she requested, milady," responded the messenger.

"Have you had any news about Sir Brogdan?" she asked anxiously.

"There was no news at the time I left, milady. It was assumed that he and his men arrived too late to prevent whatever it was that caused the creature that attacked the village and killed the King," he stated.

Tara nodded numbly. The King was dead and now Brogdan was unaccounted for; was that why Pauline wanted her there? To break the news to her personally?

"Did Pauline, I mean, her majesty, say anything more?" she asked.

"Only that it was not a command, milady," he replied. "Her majesty said to make it clear to you that it was not a command, that she requested you to come."

"Of course not," muttered Tara. Pauline would never order anyone to do anything...

"I will fetch my cloak..."

"I believe it would be best, milady, if you pardon me suggesting it, that you bring some clothing with you," stated the messenger in an embarrassed tone. "I am certain her highness will wish you to stay at Wharton at least overnight."

Tara considered it and nodded, "Then give me a few minutes..."

Rushing upstairs she found her travel bag and stuffed several items in it before she realized that she had no idea of what she had just grabbed. Dumping the contents upon the bed she forced herself to calm down and then systematically packed the bag, doing her best to take what she needed instead of grabbing things in a blind panic. Rushing downstairs, she found the messenger standing patiently in her foyer.

"I have taken the liberty of saddling a horse for you, milady," he stated softly. "I have served with Sir Brogdan and was there to congratulate him on the announcement of your impending nuptials. I am certain that he is alright, milady; he is a most skilled warrior."

Tara nodded sadly, "Indeed he is, but so was the King. Let us go!"

***

Lord Reginald and Lady Esther sat in their carriage as it sped towards Wharton, both in the state of shock. First the news of the King's death had arrived early this morning, wild details and stories flying about the village of monsters and demons, who knew what to believe? And then Pauline's message; if it had not been their daughter, they would have thought the writer was unbalanced. Pauline was too considerate to demand that her parents join her, even in what had to be the worst moment of her life. Barely married and suddenly separated from her husband and left to give orders to an entire kingdom...

"My dear," began Sir Reginald, his hand stroking his speckled beard nervously, "we must be careful. We do not want to impose ourselves on Pauline; I am certain that tongues will be wagging about every move she makes once the shock wears off. We must be careful in all that we say and do."

Esther nodded and leaned back in her chair, trying to relax and finding it impossible.

"I can't believe that the King was murdered," she replied. "Poor Queen Marie, I have no idea of what to say to her Reg, no idea at all. And their daughter, poor Annalisse; she just returned and now, Jonathan's gone, good God, Reg, what is to become of us?"

"We have to help Pauline first and foremost," stated Reginald, taking her hands into his own. "Frankly, my dear, if we can help Pauline, we can help all of them. Everything has descended upon her, especially now that Jonathan has gone of to lead the army. I understand why he did what he did; he had too, there was no choice. I am certain that he is feeling miserable, I wish I could offer some comfort to him..."

"Helping Pauline will comfort him," replied Esther. "We should write to him, Reg, let him know what we are doing..."

"I would like to volunteer my services to him..." began Reginald.

"My dear, wait," urged Esther. "We need to see what Pauline's situation is before you offer Jonathan your help. From the fury I have seen among the people, he will have no shortage of soldiers to choose from, but the knowledge that his wife has loving support about her might ease his mind a little in the days to come."

Reginald nodded at the wisdom of her words. Still, the idea of not joining the fight rankled. He had always like Alex and would never forget his kindness, both to Esther and Pauline when Jonathan began their courtship.

His mind drifted back to his daughter's wedding day. He had barely been able to contain his joy, not because Pauline was marrying a prince, but because she was so happy to be marrying the man she loved. He remembered how tightly she clung to his arm as he proudly walked her down the aisle, the look of absolute happiness on Jonathan's face as they made their way down the aisle. It had all been such a short time ago and now...

With a sudden frustration, Reginald reached up and banged on the rooftop of the carriage with his fist.

"FASTER DRIVER," he yelled. "GO LIKE THE WIND!"

***

Pauline sat beside Marie, Annalisse and Donna, holding her mother-in-law's hand and fighting back tears. She could hear Stasha and Albert weeping softly behind them while before them at the foot of the altar, the body of King Alex lay dressed in white, his sword in his hands folded upon his chest, flowers and incense filling the Church with a lovely fragrance. A long line of people processed past the coffin of the King, weeping and praying, bowing to the four women who sat, grasping each other's hands and praying that they could awake from the nightmare they were living.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard moving hurriedly down the main aisle and then Anthony appeared before Pauline and bowed.

"Your most royal highness..." he said softly.

Pauline looked to Marie and then realized that Anthony was addressing her, "Yes, my dear brother..."

Anthony held out a parchment role, which Pauline took and opened self-consciously. She hated being the center of attention and the scene felt so surreal that she had to force herself to remember that she must act for Jonathan in all things. She forced herself to look at the words on the parchment, but it took two tries to understand what they meant.

Bowing her head, she said under her breath, "Thank you, God..." and said a short prayer.

Her actions caught Marie's attention and she leaned towards her, "What is it, child?"

"Baron Fiskar and his men have arrived," replied Pauline softly. "He is awaiting us at Wharton and Sir Brogdan should arrive in a day or so. He states that his injuries are healing..."

"Where is Jacob?" asked Marie suddenly. "In all of this, I had forgotten about Jacob..."

"He is alright, Mother," stated Pauline. "He is with the Glorious One. Apparently, the creature attacked him, but the Glorious One was able to assist him. We will learn more when Brogdan arrives, but I am certain that he is well cared for and safe."

Marie squeezed Pauline's hand, "It might be best, Pauline, if you returned to Wharton. I am certain the Baron wishes to speak with you..."

"I wish to stay with you and Annalisse and Aunt Donna..." replied Pauline.

With a sad, sweet smile, Marie leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"There is nothing you can do for us here, my dear," she replied, fighting back the tears. "Nothing can be done for my beloved Alex...We know that you love us, Pauline and that you share our grief."

"Mother is right," stated Annalisse softly. "You should go and see the Baron, Pauline. Who knows what he has to say and it might affect Jonathan...we love you Pauline, go."

Pauline nodded and standing, leaned down and kissed each one in turn.

"Would you like me to go with you, your majesty?" offered Anthony.

"No, Anthony," she replied. "I would feel better knowing you were with Mother, Annalisse, and Aunt Donna. Thank you."

Anthony bowed as Pauline moved up the aisle, the mourners parting and bowing to let the new Queen past, a large soldier leading the way for her.

Donna moved over and offered her place beside Annalisse to Anthony, who kissed her gently upon the cheek and then sat down beside his wife. Annalisse grasped his hand and her Mothers tightly and stared in disbelief at the mourners and her Father. After a moment, the line resumed moving once again.

"I am sorry, my love," Anthony whispered. "With all my heart, I am sorry..."

Annalisse placed her head on his shoulder and began to weep once again. How could she have stood this if he had not been here? She could not imagine the pain of doing it without him...
Chapter 24

The Duke of Gronolo stared down from the battlements of the Castle of Basilisk and looked out over the unending line of warriors marching through the pass towards them. Thomas, the Earl of Mariar stood beside his lord's side, viewing the spectacle of the enormous army as it approached.

Thomas had come back with Anthony for his wedding and had decided to stay to visit his estate and see some old friends before returning to Zambelia to assist Anthony in his role as ambassador to the court of Wharton. He had been preparing the last of his things to depart when word arrived that the King of Darma was marching a large force towards the pass.

Taking a deep breath, Thomas shook his head, "There's a damn lot of them, milord."

The Duke laughed, a harsh, unhappy sound. His dark hair slicked tightly against his skull, his long, narrow face making him look like a bird of prey, he stared down at the multitude defiantly.

"We must hold them here, Thomas," he stated. "If we can delay them here for a day or two, then all will be well."

"I doubt they'll keep their entire force here, milord," replied Thomas.

"We have the fall back position," replied the Duke, "but we must act to keep them here."

"Did you reply to their latest message?" asked Thomas.

"My response was curt and to the point," stated the Duke, turning away and leading Thomas towards the stairs.

Thomas looked about, watching as the men worked the large pots that sat on huge fires with long poles, positioning them, waiting for their captain's commands. As they descended the stairs, he could see motion everywhere, men running about, catapults being positioned, armor being adjusted, everything being made ready.

A line of archers marched past them, headed up the stairs towards the position that Thomas and the Duke had just vacated.

"I did not think they would attack so soon," confessed the Duke. "All I can think is that something must have happened to force their hand..."

"Tidon has always been unpredictable," spat Thomas. "Unstable is probably a more appropriate word..."

The Duke stopped and smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I need you to get to your position, Thomas. The time has come. It starts now, let us pray it ends well."

Thomas nodded, "Aye, milord, as milord commands..."

Thomas turned to obey. He wished that Anthony had stayed, he would have felt better if Anthony were here to assist, but then again, perhaps it was better this way. With Anthony free and about, he knew that help would be on its way. For the moment, Gronolo's best hope was not here facing the onslaught, it was out there, preparing to spring the trap.

***

Jacob sat down at the table in the inn, shielding his eyes against the fire light that came from the large fireplace at the end of the room. His eyes had become sensitive to light and his body still ached from the attack he had sustained, but he felt enormously better and actually felt as if he could eat something.

The Glorious One stared up for a moment at the serving girl, a pretty young woman in her twenties, her eyes red from crying. She gulped and asked for their order.

"My friend has been ill," stated the Glorious One. "If you have some stew and bread that would be best, for three of us if you would and water will do to drink, please. "

"As you wish, sir," she replied, dabbing at her eyes.

"I suppose you have all heard about the King..." began the Glorious One.

The girl nodded, "I can't believe it's true. I hope they find those responsible, I hope they find them and cut them to ribbons!"

"I pray so," stated Jacob. "I hope they find the fiends and show no mercy."

"Our Lord tells us to love one another," stated the Glorious One, "and that means loving those who are unlovable. I pray for justice, I believe it is what his majesty would have wanted..."

Jacob nodded his head, chastened, but the girl stared at him defiantly.

"You can love who you want," she replied coldly, "but if they come here, we'll send their heads to Wharton!"

Several people at nearby tables murmured in agreement.

The Glorious One nodded, wishing to avoid further discussion as Morris entered after having stabled their horses and joined them at the table.

"Horses are ready for the night," he began, looking about the room with an approving nod. "Have you decided where we are headed?"

"You need not know," replied the Glorious One. "Our friend here must regain his strength and then we may be needed to assist his royal highness."

"I would like to send word to Aunt Marie," stated Jacob quietly. "I cannot imagine the pain she and Annalisse are going through...I can't believe that he is gone..."

"When we retire to our room, you can compose a note then, if you are up to it," stated the Glorious One. "You are not out of the woods yet, you need to rest."

Jacob looked glumly at the table top, "The smoke we saw yesterday, they destroyed the house..."

"Your Father's property became property of the crown as soon as the troops were sent to arrest him," stated the Glorious One softly, making sure that no one nearby could hear their conversation. "All of his estates have been destroyed, his servants arrested, his property confiscated or stolen. As to your step-mother's belongings..."

"I hope everything to do with her has been consumed by fire," stated Jacob. "He went from loving an angel to cavorting with the devil..."

"She is paying for her sins," stated the Glorious One, "as is he..."

Jacob looked up at him, "Did you see..."

The Glorious One looked at him curiously, "See what?"

Jacob looked about the room and suddenly it seemed everyone was listening to them.

"Nothing," he replied softly. "I will explain later..."

The girl appeared with a large loaf of bread and three steaming bowls of stew. The Glorious One tried to contain his amusement at Morris' disappointment when he found water instead of wine in his cup.

"Planning on leaving early, I see," Morris remarked sarcastically as he sipped from his cup.

"At first light, as a matter of fact," replied the Glorious One. "Work must be done. I owe it to Donna to help where I can..."

"Will we go and see them?" asked Jacob.

The Glorious One shook his head, "You will not see them for a time, Jacob. It is better that way. You do not understand this now, but you will; it is better this way..."

***

Jonathan sat in his tent, listening to the men arranging the camp, the sound of orders being given and obeyed. The men needed some rest, they had been traveling non-stop and it was decided that after a few hours, they would march by night to reach Gronolo as soon as possible.

Multiple couriers had arrived from throughout the kingdom, reports of movement along the border, of angry mobs attacking nobles suspected of being in league with Parker's rebellion and of pledges of fidelity and loyalty to him as the new king. It was all too much to take in and Jonathan felt thankful for these few moments alone in his tent, to be alone with his own thoughts and feelings.

He had been numb since his Father had died, could not remember what he had said to who and why, had no idea if he had acted correctly in anything he had done. His heart ached for his Father and for his Mother, for his sister and family and most of all, for his beloved wife. What must Pauline think of him? He could not even imagine and as he touched his heart at the thought of her, he felt the letter she had given him this morning before she had kissed him so tenderly and prayed over him.

He reached into his tunic and drew the letter out and broke the seal that protected it and read;

MY DEAREST DARLING JONATHAN,

I CANNOT IMAGINE THE PAIN YOU ARE IN AND THE BURDEN THAT YOU FEEL. KNOW, MY LOVE ALWAYS, THAT I WILL DO ALL THAT I CAN, NO MATTER WHAT IT IS, FOR YOU. HOW I WISH I COULD COME WITH YOU AND FIGHT BY YOUR SIDE, HOW I WISH I COULD TURN BACK TIME SO THAT THESE AWFUL EVENTS HAD NEVER OCCURRED, BUT THEY HAVE, MY DARLING AND WE MUST TRUST IN GOD AND FACE THEM TOGETHER, ALWAYS TOGETHER. I PRAY YOU KNOW THAT I WILL CARE FOR YOUR MOTHER AND ANNALISSE WITH ALL MY HEART, THAT I WILL DO ALL THAT I CAN TO RELIEVE THEIR PAIN AND THAT I WILL WAIT FOR YOU FOREVER IF THAT IS HOW LONG IT TAKES FOR YOU TO RETURN TO ME. MOSTLY, MY LOVE, KNOW THIS; I LOVE YOU AND WILL NEVER CEASE LOVING YOU. I AM THE PROUDEST OF WIVES BECAUSE YOU ARE MY HUSBAND AND I WISH THAT I HAD THE WORLD TO GIVE TO YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE MY WORLD. NEVER DOUBT MY LOVE FOR YOU, I PRAY FOR YOU, I LOVE YOU. BE CAREFUL MY LOVE, PLEASE GOD, BE CAREFUL AND MAY HE ALWAYS BLESS YOU MY ONE AND ONLY.

WITH MY HEART AND SOUL,

PAULINE

Jonathan looked at the letter for a long time and felt, for the first time since the ordeal had begun, that there was hope, a glimmer of hope in his life once again. Pauline loved him, had faith in him and was one with him. Taking some parchment from his traveling desk, he sat down and began to write to her; he had to tell her, had to let her know that he loved her more than life itself. He could not imagine the future without his Father, but without Pauline, there would be no future...
Chapter 25

Brogdan laid down upon his cot with a grunt and took a deep breath. His wounds ached and the constant motion of the carriage certainly did nothing to relieve them. He heard horsemen thundering up outside and men speaking and dismounting. The captain of the guard entered his tent and spoke rapidly.

"Lord Chester's son, Lord Cecil to see you, milord," he stated.

"Please, ask him to come in," replied Brogdan.

He remembered Lord Cecil, had spoken to him on several occasions and could not imagine why he was here.

Lord Cecil entered the tent, a tall, heavyset man with a barrel chest and large, fleshy affable face. He seemed to be a slightly shorter, younger version of his father, a most beloved and cherished member of the kingdom.

"Please forgive me for not rising, milord..." began Brogdan.

"Please, Sir Brogdan, forgive my intrusion," interrupted Lord Cecil. "I come from Wharton with orders from Sir Edward that need to be fulfilled quickly. I am sorry to hear about your injuries, is there anything I can do to assist you?"

Brogdan smiled, "No, milord, time is the only doctor that can heal me. Please, take a seat, there is one in the corner..."

Lord Cecil spotted the chair and brought it quickly to set beside Brogdan's bed.

"I have been ordered," he began, retrieving a parchment from a pouch at his waist and handing to Brogdan, "to relieve you of command of your troops."

"Relieve me?" asked Brogdan in surprise.

"Yes, Sir Brogdan," replied Lord Cecil quickly. "Sir Edward wants me to take your men back from whence they came. Since his majesty's assassination, mobs have been ravaging the countryside, dispensing justice as they see fit. We have had word that all of Lord Parker's former estates have been destroyed and several of his...his relations if I might use that word, have been attacked, some even killed. They want the men you have assembled here to head south and restore order. Also, I've been given a rather lengthy arrest warrant that Sir Edward wishes me to exercise against several noble houses. I am to send you to Wharton as quickly as possible with the detachment of cavalry with which I myself arrived."

"There will be great disappointment amongst the men, milord," stated Brogdan. "One and all had hoped to go north to settle scores with the Darmanians."

"Believe me, Sir Brogdan, I share their disappointment," stated Lord Cecil. "I had begged to be given leave to join my Father and his men in the east, but it seems that my services are needed here, so here I am."

Brogdan nodded, lost in his thoughts for a moment.

"Have you come from Wharton, milord?" he asked softly.

"I was there but briefly," replied Lord Cecil. "I have never known such mourning, Sir Brogdan. Mourning and fury, odd bedfellows, if I might say. The spot where she fell, the demon who killed the King, well, the spot where she fell in the town square was torn up, the people refusing to have the stones on which she had died left in the square. They took them out and smashed them into powder and then threw them into the river. Our lord is in state in the cathedral, thousands come to mourn him..."

"The Queen, and the Princess..." he asked softly.

"Shattered," replied Lord Cecil heavily. "Her majesty looks so thin and pale, it is as if her life were drained from her and the Princess...her heart is broken."

"How is Princess Pauline?"

Lord Cecil smiled slightly, "She is a wonder, I must confess that I had not suspected so much strength and purpose in one so small and retiring. She commands in a whisper and everyone leaps. No one feels that they can do her bidding fast enough or well enough to show her what she means to us."

"Have we heard from the King?" asked Brogdan, finding the idea that anyone other than Alex was King odd and unsettling.

"He is about a day's journey from Gronolo upon last report," replied Lord Cecil. "Along with the troops that are flocking to him, an army of common people have joined him, a massive group wishing to find justice for King Alex. I pray that reason will prevail, but his highness will have his hands full just to maintain order."

Brogdan nodded, how he wished he could be at Jonathan's side. He knew those men, knew they listened to him.

"I will set out in the morning on our journey south," stated Lord Cecil.

"I will set out tonight for Wharton," stated Brogdan. "I wish to get there as soon as possible. I pray that even in my present condition the Queen will allow me to serve."

"I have no doubt that she will, Sir Brogdan," stated Lord Cecil, rising and returning the chair to its original spot. "I will send in the captain of cavalry so that you can make your arrangements. If I can do anything for you, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"Thank you, Lord Cecil," stated Brogdan. "Good luck to you."

"Good luck to us all," replied Lord Cecil. "God help us..."

***

Tidon's camp had been set up before the Castle of Basilisk for two days now, the fighting raging and his generals upset. The King could not seem to stop changing his mind, they were being told to position the troops in another part of the castle once again and to attack tonight in the dark. The generals had begged him to send at least part of the army south; scouts had reported that further down the road a large barricade had been erected and a sizeable force was there that needed to be swept away so that they could advance after the fall of the castle. Tidon, however, now hesitated, uneasy that he was walking into a trap and unwilling to send his troops even a mile or so further into Gronolo with the castle untaken. No, he had stated, first he would crush the castle and then destroy the road block ahead and then all Gronolo would be his.

As to Tidon, he stood nearby, his anger mounting. As the battle continued to rage, he found the resolve of the Gronolians to be most aggravating. They could not hope to win, they were surrounded on all sides and yet, to his growing frustration, they had refused to surrender. Adding to his rage was the fact that his own men had failed to breach the wall at any point despite the promises of his commanders that they would finish with the castle in two days' time.

Standing upon a rise in the pass that led to the castle in which a large portion of his army was still encamped, Tidon noted a messenger approaching him at breakneck speed. Leaping from his horse, the man ran up to the King and knelt.

"My liege, Lord Notram begs to report that his men have breached a section of the castle wall on the western most side!"

Tidon smiled as the men around him cheered.

"Send in the reserves immediately and let us wipe this scum from the face of the earth!" he roared as the men continued their cheering.

For a moment, the men thought that the vibration they were feeling was being caused by the battle and the cheering that was pulsating throughout the battle line, but they slowly began realizing that the vibration was coming from the ground.

"Rectra, what is this?" asked the King.

"An earthquake, sire!" snapped Rectra, feeling the rumbling growing through the ground under their feet.

Suddenly a sound like the explosion of a volcano rocked the men and a spray of dirt and rocks rained down upon them. Looking up at the steep walls that formed the pass around them, they saw a huge amount of dirt and debris suddenly explode from the mountain and slide down upon the road behind them. Men ran from the wreckage and panic began to run throughout the camp as the vibration increased and as the steep wall making up the opposite side of the pass suddenly exploded as well. Again, an enormous cloud of dirt and debris slid down into the pass, blocking the passage back north and sending the men clambering in a panic towards where the King was standing. Suddenly, a horrid screech broke through the air and men began to fling themselves upon the ground in terror.

Staring up at the openings, the King gaped as two dragons suddenly appeared, one in each of the two newly formed openings.

"We must have awakened them, sire," babbled Rectra.

The King's mouth dropped further when he saw other figures beginning to emerge from the caves the dragons had formed, human figures, men in armor.

For a moment, it seemed as if nothing moved, it was as if the entire world had frozen. Tidon could not take his eyes from the spectacle as the dragons began to march down the steep slope and just behind them men began to emerge in formation, picking their way down towards Tidon's terrified men.

"We're surrounded!" screamed one of the men and the cry was taken up by a thousand voices.

Chaos erupted as men poured from out of the caves and began to form for an attack on the rear of Tidon's forces. Tidon looked about him and screamed at the men to hold fast, but to no avail. Panic caused a stampede towards the castle.

Lord Cailin rode his horse quickly up to where the king stood and shouted out to him, "TO YOUR HORSE, SIRE, BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE!"

A cry went up, "THE KING'S HORSE! THE KING'S HORSE!"

Tidon's horse was brought up to the rise and the King mounted, a cheer rising from the men. The King himself would lead them into battle! To their surprise, Tidon called for his cavalry escort and as they arrived, he spurred his horse towards the pass before giving any orders. The men looked on in confusion and then growing terror as the King and his escort bolted down the pass, running just between the two lines of descending soldiers and dragons, retreating back towards Darma.

Arrows could be seen flying from archers on the steep walls, but they were still too far away to hit the retreating horsemen and soon, nothing could be seen of them except a small cloud of dust in the distance.

The Duke of Rectra stood, his mouth agape, the terror of the king's betrayal of his men almost overwhelming. Suddenly he lurched forward and began to give orders.

"FORM HERE!" he commanded. "FORM RANKS HERE! MEN OF DARMIA, WE FIGHT!"

A roar of approval went up from the men as they closed ranks around Rectra and prepared to meet the new line of the enemy.

In the pass further north, Tidon and Cailin spurred their horses viciously and urged them to move faster. For Tidon, one idea became supreme; escape.

***

Pauline sat upon a chair in the private room behind the throne room with Sir Edward, Baron Fiskar, Lady Heather and her parents. Glancing about the room, she could not contain her surprise that decisions needed to be made and she was the only member of the royal family present. So often she had sat quietly watching Alex, Jonathan and Marie speak about what had to be done about a situation and now, none of them were here to even advise her, never mind make the necessary decisions. She felt so alone and then she remembered her vow; she would do all that she could for her husband, her life, her love.

She looked at Fiskar and understood Sir Edwards words; the brave old warrior seemed exhausted and looked older than his years as he grasped the arms of his chair and finish giving his report. Pauline considered all that he said as the others sat respectfully awaiting her words.

"I want to thank you, Baron Fiskar, for all of you help during this crisis. I would like for you to remain here at Wharton...I need your advice, milord and would be ever grateful if you would consent to staying here to assist me."

Fiskar closed his eyes and sighed. He would have gone to the front if ordered to do so, but he had never felt so tired in all of his life. The deception that the King had asked him to play out was what he agreed too in hopes that it would stabilize the kingdom and even if he thought that Alex were no great King and often wrong, he had always been a loyal, if not an outwardly obedient subject. The idea that he would be allowed to stay here to advise the Queen was the best that he could hope for and he could not contain his smile

"I would be delighted, your highness, to offer you any service that you find I might be able to fulfill for you and his majesty."

"Thank you, Baron Fiskar," she replied softly, pleased that she had not insulted him by her request.

"Papa," she continued, turning to her Father, "I need your help."

"Anything, my love," replied Reginald.

"I want you to gather whatever forces that are not absolutely necessary here and take them to Jonathan. Edward believes that the fighting will be most fierce in Gronolo, so I want you to collect as many men as can be spared and get to Jonathan as quickly as you can."

"Of course, my love," replied Reginald, "I will begin tonight."

Pauline nodded and smiled at her mother, "Mama...I am afraid that Lord Albert is not well and Lady Stasha is trying to help him and Queen Marie and Annalisse. I placed Ellen in charge of the kitchen, but I need someone to run the household..."

"I will take care of it, Pauline," smiled Esther sympathetically. "Anything I can do to take the burden off of you..."

"Thank you, Mama," smiled Pauline sadly. "It is a huge comfort to have you and Papa here..."

Esther reached out and took Pauline's hand as she turned to Heather.

"Heather, I need your help as well," she continued. "There are so many wounded that must be cared for and so many people who wish to speak with me. Could you please speak with the doctors and find out their needs, we will establish them in as many rooms as we can spare. I am certain that there will be more wounded to be cared for before long. Also..."

Pauline hesitated a moment, "I will need to spend time with Queen Marie and Annalisse and I must find something for Wilton to do and..."

"We will figure it out, Pauline," replied Heather softly. "There is much to do, but we will all do what we can to assist you."

Pauline nodded, "We must help Jonathan; we must do all we can for him."

"What of the traitors, your royal highness?" asked the Baron suddenly. "I have a large group of people that I would like to hang..."

"Trials and punishments will have to wait for the time being, Baron Fiskar," stated Pauline softly. "We want justice, not revenge. The work you and Brogdan and Edward have done along with Uncle Ernest's information will give us all of the traitors and they will be dealt with in the proper time. For now, we will hold them in the prisons. Perhaps, Baron Fiskar, you can create a system, a log of those who are being held..."

"Do you wish me to arrange for courts, milady?" asked the Baron. "The people will desire justice to be swift."

Pauline shook her head, "No, milord, thank you, but now is not the time. Please organize their internment, but we will do nothing legally at this time."

"I will see that they are secured, milady," stated Fiskar.

Pauline looked at the floor and thought of her husband, "We must do all that we can to help Jonathan."
Chapter 26

Jonathan had fallen asleep just after he had sent off his message to Pauline. His rest was troubled by dreams of blood and battle and suddenly he found himself being shaken and a familiar voice calling out to him. He jerked upright with a start and stared out into the dark.

"Jonathan," said the voice again softly.

Jonathan rubbed his eyes and eased back onto his elbows. He felt more tired than when he had fallen asleep as he replied, "Randy?"

Randy brought the light of the candle he held closer and knelt beside Jonathan's bed.

"Two messages, one from Lord Chester and the other from the Duke of Gronolo," said Randy softly as he located a lamp and lit it using the candle.

Jonathan sat up and threw his legs over the side of his cot as Randy handed him the letters. He motioned Randy to bring the lamp closer as he struggled to focus on the words.

YOUR MOST ROYAL HIGHNESS,

OUR FORCES WERE ATTACKED BY THE FORCES OF KING TIDON YESTERDAY AT THE EASTERN PASS. THE PLANS CREATED BY HIS MAJESTY, KING ALEX OF BLESSED MEMORY AND LORD ALBERT WORKED PERFECTLY AND BY NIGHTFALL, SEEING THE HOPELESSNESS OF THEIR SITUATION, KING TIDON'S COMMANDERS SURRENDERED. OUR DRAGON ALLIES DESERVE OUR MOST SINCERE THANKS FOR ACCOMPLISHING THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE TUNNELS THAT WE USED TO FLANK THE ENEMY. I AM PROUD TO REPORT THAT WE HAVE OVER FIVE THOUSAND PRISONERS IN OUR POSSESSION AND HAVE TAKEN POSSESSION OF A SUCCESSION OF TOWNS WITHIN DARMA. CURRENTLY, WE ARE MOVING WEST IN THE HOPES OF MEETING UP WITH YOUR MAJESTY'S FORCES AT THE PASS BETWEEN DARMA AND GRONOLO. GOD BLESS YOU, YOUR MAJESTY, I HOPE TO SEE YOU IN PERSON BEFORE LONG.

YOUR OBEDIENT SERVANT,

LORD CHESTER

Jonathan stared at the message for a moment, Tidon's eastern army had already been destroyed. Albert and his Father had devised the traps at the passes with the assistance of the Dragon King. At each of the passes, tunnels had been constructed with the assistance of the dragons so that a force could flank the Darmanians. It was a brilliant plan and a master stroke and now...Jonathan fought back tears. Alex should have been leading this fight, it was his plan, his hard work, his glory, but he wasn't here; his Father wasn't here.

With a deep breath, he opened the other letter from the Duke of Gronolo and read;

TO YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS KING ALEX,

THE DARMIANS HAVE ATTACKED THE CASTLE OF BASLISK. TODAY WE WILL SPRING THE TRAP AS WE CANNOT HOLD OUT MUCH LONGER WITHOUT SOME RELIEF. I HAVE LEFT MY MAIN FORCE AT BARRIERS AT THE END OF THE PASS IN THE HOPE OF SECURING MORE TIME FOR YOU TO ACT AGAINST OUR COMMON FOE. I BEG YOU TO RUSH ASSISTANCE TO US AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, THE ARMY OF OUR COMMON ENEMY MUST NUMBER IN THE TENS OF THOUSANDS WHILE WE HAVE LESS THAN HALF THAT SPLIT BETWEEN THE TWO SEPARATE DIVISIONS.

WITH FAITH IN GOD,

DG

"Randy," said Jonathan softly. "Send a messenger to our Western army, I need to know if the pass there has been attacked. We need to rouse the camp and inform our men that Lord Chester has won a great victory in the east and is marching through Darma towards the pass at Gronolo."

"That is great news, sire," smiled Randy.

"The Duke of Gronolo needs our assistance, we have to get there as quickly as possible," stated Jonathan as he rose to dress.

Randy looked at the note, "It is addressed to your Father..."

"He obviously did not know what had happened," mumbled Jonathan, trying to avoid the subject as he tried to keep the pain at bay. "Quickly, get the messenger!"

Randy ran out of the tent and suddenly, alone, Jonathan felt as if the walls of the tent were impenetrable and were closing in upon him. It was difficult to breath and as soon as he had his tunic on, he forced himself beyond the flaps of the tent into the night air. His guards snapped to attention as he called out hoarsely.

"Rouse the camp, we march for Gronolo immediately!"

The men snapped to his commands and soon the camp was a flood of motion in the moonlight, the silence broken by the sound of men cursing and running about getting ready to march. A detachment of cavalry made their way towards Jonathan's camp just as a horse was brought to him, saddled and ready to ride.

Climbing aboard his mount, Jonathan called out for another messenger. In the moonlight, he scribbled a note and handed it to the man.

"Take this to the Duke of Gronolo, let him know that we are on our way," he instructed.

Randy drew closer to him and handed him a note, a pained look upon his face.

"Jonathan, I just received this," he said softly.

Jonathan was inclined to stick the note in his tunic and read it later, but he hesitated, Randy's look causing him to stop and look at the paper.

The note was long and rambling. Half way through it, he had called for a lamp so that he might better read the scrawl that filled the page. For a moment, he closed his eyes, his head sinking to his chest as he considered all that he had read. Finally, he motioned a messenger to him and asked for paper and a quill. It took but a moment for the writing materials to be supplied and he began writing.

MY DARLING PAULINE,

I HAVE RECEIVED A MISSIVE FROM WILTON DESCRIBING WHAT TRANSPIRED AT PARKER'S ESTATE, I CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE PAIN AND SHAME HE IS FEELING. KNOW MY DARLING THAT I APPRECIATE YOU INTIALLY ORDERING WILTON TO STAY WITH YOU, BUT UPON CONSIDERATION, I THINK IT BEST IF HE WERE HERE WITH RANDY AND I AND I ASK YOU, MY LOVE, TO PLEASE SEND HIM TO ME, DIRECTLY TO ME, AS SOON AS YOU ARE ABLE TO DO SO. I DO THIS, MY ANGEL, BECAUSE I BELIEVE HE NEEDS TO BE WITH HIS BROTHERS IN HIS GRIEF AND AWAY FROM THE COURT WHERE I AM CERTAIN HE IS SUBJECT TO THE MOST PAINFUL OF GOSSIP. BELIEVE ME MY LOVE THAT I DO NOT QUESTION YOUR JUDGEMENT OR IN ANY WAY TO OVER RULE YOUR INTENTIONS. I LOVE YOU MY DARLING WIFE. GOD BLESS YOU.

WITH MY HEART AND SOUL,

JONATHAN

Jonathan sealed the note and handed it to the courier, "Give this to my wife and await her reply."

"Yes sire," replied the man who took the note and was gone in an instant.

"I can't believe it," whispered Randy, his tone filled with pain. "How could she have done that to him? She was his world..."

"He wants to die," replied Jonathan softly. "We must prevent that, Randy, we must do all that we can to prevent that; we cannot afford to lose more than we have, how will our hearts be able to handle it?"

Randy looked at his friend and felt his pain and for a moment, he had never felt closer to Jonathan. Jonathan reached out and patted his shoulder and then, the moment was gone.

"Commander of the Guard, let us move out!" snapped Jonathan and the men surged forward.

***

The funeral for King Alex lasted almost four hours and then, with the Queen, his widow, his daughter and the rest of the royal family still left at Wharton, his body was transferred down behind the main alter to the crypt of the Kings of Zambelia. Afterwards, a solemn dinner was offered at Wharton and three days of official mourning were proclaimed.

Since Alex' death, Marie had been unable to go back to their suite of rooms, but as evening fell on that painful day, she made her way to their apartment and entered, at her request, alone. Nothing had been touched, it was just as they had left it on that fateful morning. She slowly made her way to her husband's favorite chair and stared down at it, stationed beside the cold fireplace. Gingerly lowering herself into her own chair, she stared about the room, each object drawing her attention, holding a memory of love and laughter, of happiness and hope. After a time, she rose and, taking a deep breath, she pushed aside the simple curtain that separated their bedchamber from the sitting room.

By the foot of the bed she noted his slippers, his robe thrown over a hook in the corner, a letter on his bed stand. She moved slowly to the letter and picking it up, scanned the contents. It was a letter that he had read to her the night before his death, a request for his permission to allow a minor nobleman to present his son to be trained as a squire to the king. Alex had intended to send the father permission, requesting him to come with his son the following week, this week, the week that he had instead been buried.

Gripping the note tightly in her hand, she moved swiftly away from the bed and out the door of the room. The guards snapped to attention as Marie flowed quickly down the hall to Jonathan's room. She knocked and heard a gentle voice tell her to come in.

Opening the door, she found Pauline seated at a small vanity, obviously reading a stack of letters that had been given to her throughout the day. Pauline looked up at her, surprised to see her.

"Are you all right, mother?" she asked softly, rising as Marie crossed to her.

For a moment, Marie could not think of anything to say. She merely thrust the letter at Pauline, who took it from her and gently guided her to the bed to sit down. This was the room that Jonathan had grown up in, it contained a bed and a small table, a wardrobe and a nightstand with a pitcher. When he had married Pauline, the vanity was added, but in truth, the room was much too small for two people, but Jonathan had refused his parent's offer of a suite at Wharton, feeling the larger spaces should be given to those who were in residence more often. Now that Pauline was Queen, everyone assumed that she would move to one of Wharton's larger suites, but she had refused to do so, feeling closer to Jonathan by her residence in his old room.

Pauline stood above Marie and read the note and then reread it. Instinctively, she knew this letter meant a great deal to her mother in law, but from the words on the paper, it offered few clues.

"Mother," she asked softly, "why is this important?"

Marie forced herself to calm down, felt her heart beating as though it would break out of her chest. Her voice came out louder than she wanted, but she seemed to have very little control of herself.

"It was the last thing he wanted to do and he didn't do it," she spat out. "He wanted to and he never had the chance..."

Pauline looked at the letter and then back at Marie, "Father wanted..."

"Alex was going to say yes," she continued. "He was going to tell him to bring the boy next week, he was going to have them here and let the boy be a squire for him, but he can't do that now, but he wanted it to be done."

Pauline looked down at the note again and gently lowered herself onto the bed beside Marie.

"If Father wanted this done, it will be done," she said firmly. "We will tell them to come next week..."

"But he won't be here!" replied Marie, taking a deep breath, "Neither one of them will be here!"

Pauline wrapped her arms around Marie and held her tightly.

"They are always here," she said softly. "As long as you and I are here, they are always here as well."

Marie grasped her tightly and hugged her for a long while. Finally, she released her and rose again.

"You must be very tired, Pauline," she said. "The whole world has fallen upon you. I am sorry I have been of so little help to you, but I will try, I promise you, I will try...for both of them and for you..."

Pauline reached up and took Marie's hand, "I promise you, mother, you need only ask for it and I will do it. Thank you for being at my side..."

Marie smiled and leaned over, kissing Pauline gently on the cheek. Forcing a smile, she made her way to the bedroom door.

"Good night my love," she said softly as she opened the door.

"Good night mother," replied Pauline.

She watched as Marie slipped silently out the door. After rereading the letter, she rose and made her way to the door. Opening it, she saw the guards snap to attention.

Turning to the guard closest to the door, she spoke firmly, "Please send for one of the messengers as I write a reply to this note. It must be answered immediately."

"Yes, your royal highness," replied the man.

She watched him bow and then sprint down the hallway in search of a messenger. Retreating to her vanity, she sat down and wrote her reply, his reply, to the letter.

The messenger arrived a few minutes later and left with the message. As he made his way down the stairs at Wharton to go to the stables to fetch his horse, he could not clear his mind of the image of the new queen as she handed him the note, her eyes streaming tears down her calm, plain face.

***

The meeting of the Duke of Gronolo and the new King of Zambelia was heralded throughout the Duchy with joyous celebrations. The King's army had arrived and after two days of battle had forced the surrender of the Darmanian army, sealing the trap that had been lain by King Alex and Lord Albert long before.

When the last member of the King of Darma's army had at last thrown down his sword, the highest commander of their forces, the Duke of Rectra, was taken to the Duke's castle to be interrogated by the victors.

The Duke had been wounded in the fighting, his arm badly slashed and his leg struck by an arrow. Two of the King's guards carried him into the Duke's castle and he was made comfortable on a chair in the drawing room. The two victors, the Duke and Jonathan, made their way into the room and closed the door for their private conversation.

Rectra had glanced about the rich furnishings of the Duke's home and smiled. He would soon be in prison, he had no doubt, rich trappings such as these a mere memory. He watched as the King and Duke approached. He had heard of the death of King Alex; should he offer his condolences? Would Jonathan believe him? Would he believe himself?

Standing over him, Jonathan spoke first, wasting no time, "Milord, I wish to inform you that your eastern army has surrendered and our army is now marching across Darma to meet us here."

Rectra seemed to sag into the couch even more as he shook his head.

"Then all is lost for my country," he said softly. "A lifetime of service, gone..."

"You fought nobly," stated the Duke of Gronolo. "You have nothing to be ashamed of; you are an honorable man."

"Honorable man or not, I want to know, where is your master, the king?" asked Jonathan.

Rectra looked at him and smiled, "You may torture me, sire but I cannot tell you."

"You've never been a fool, Rectra," stated the Duke, "don't play one now."

"I have been a fool, milord," replied Rectra with a frown, "but I am not a fool now, or at least, not in this instance. I will tell you all you wish to know, I have no reason to believe it will do any good not to do so, but I cannot tell you what I do not know."

"Explain," said Jonathan.

"When you sprung your trap, sire, and I must say, it was quite the trap, the king escaped," replied Rectra. "He abandoned his men, took off with a cavalry detachment led by that coward Lord Cailin and made it back through the pass before your forces could close it off. I would suppose he went back to try and raise some more troops."

"He could be leading a force to intercept your men coming from the east," ventured the Duke, turning to Jonathan.

Rectra shook his head at the idea.

"The only men left in Darma are old men and young boys. It bankrupted the treasury to field our forces because every man able to carry so much as a stone was forced into the army for this campaign. It was to be the noble work of destroying Gronolo and capturing Zambelia, it was to be the creation of the Darmanian Empire."

The two men looked down at Rectra as he laughed bitterly.

The Duke turned to Jonathan, "What do you think, sire?"

Jonathan eyed Rectra for a moment, "I believe he tells us the truth. If you will agree, I would ask that you and your men hold the pass and that I take my men north in search of Tidon. He must be captured."

"And killed," added Rectra.

"He will be tried," snapped the Duke.

"And killed," stated Rectra. "I do not blame you, gentlemen, there isn't a man who laid down his sword today who would not kill him for you if he had the chance."

"If your men hate their king so, why did they fight like devils for him?" asked Jonathan.

Rectra looked up and forced another smile, "They fought for what they left behind, sire. They fought for their wives and children. They fought for honor and pride, but they did not fight for Tidon. They watched him gallop through that pass and leave them and their families to their fate. They watched him ride away and never look back. To the victor belongs the spoils; you won, so you kill Tidon. Trust me, if we had won, we would have done the same."

Jonathan nodded and with a look to the Duke, left Rectra alone, crossing to the other side of the room to speak privately.

"Do you trust him, sire?" asked the Duke.

"Several of the men grumbled about Tidon when they laid down their swords," replied Jonathan. "It seems to me that they are all very good actors or something like he said took place."

"Tidon's palace is to the north and east of the pass," mused the Duke. "If we could get word to your army coming from the east, you could march with two forces towards his castle while my men hold the pass here in case he tries to bring a force between us."

"I wish I knew the fate of our western most forces," replied Jonathan. "I don't want the devil behind me as I move north and east. What if they swing down through Vesek?"

"As I see it sire, we have two choices," stated the Duke. "We can wait here for confirmation or we can take the chance and act. If we wait, we might lose a golden opportunity to strike while the enemy is off balance. If this is a trick or if the western army is in trouble, we still hold the passes to the east and here and even if they defeated your forces to the west, we still have three full armies, yours, the eastern army and my own, with which to strike them."

Jonathan grimaced, "I do not know if I can contain my men here even if I wished to stop and wait. Since my father's death, all they have sought is battle..."

"They fought like men possessed," agreed the Duke. "I think that is the final answer then, sire. You move north, I'll send out scouting parties to the west through Darma, if it is as Rectra says, we'll know soon enough."

Jonathan nodded; he would hunt Tidon to the ends of the earth. He thought of Pauline's hand on his own and closed his eyes; yes, my love, for justice, I will seek only justice...
Chapter 27

Edward sat on Pauline's right as Lord Trillian finished speaking. Pauline considered his words and then bade him sit down opposite them. Like all of Pauline's official visits, the meeting was being held in the library and in private. Pauline would not conduct business in the audience chamber, she would never sit on a throne without her husband by her side and since she hated being placed on display, the library allowed her to act on his behalf and maintain some level of privacy.

After a moment, she looked up at Lord Trillian and spoke, "Milord, I wish to thank you for your service...for all that you have done. I have read your reports, have heard others speak of your bravery in reporting the treachery you were exposed too...I want you to know that you have our thanks, Jonathan's and mine."

"Thank you, your majesty," replied Trillian.

"I have had many reports," continued Pauline, looking down at the table top, "from Lord Wilton and Baron Fiskar and from several others of your wife's words regarding our late lord, King Alex."

"My wife has never been able to govern her tongue," interrupted Trillian. "Ask anyone, she is the most renowned gossip in the kingdom, your majesty..."

"I know of her reputation," stated Pauline, unable to completely forget some of the vicious things that Lady Trillian had said about her. "I know, milord, that you have come here hoping to decrease your anxiety regarding her ladyship's future, but I am afraid I cannot help you."

Edward and Albert both looked at her, uncertain of what she meant.

"You do not mean to say..." began Trillian desperately.

"I do not mean to say anything, milord," stated Pauline looking at her hands. "Only my husband, the King, can judge on this matter and I will never seek to infringe upon his privileges. How can I condemn or even forgive someone an act of treason by committing treason myself? To judge your wife, milord, I would be stating that I am the king's equal before the law and I am not. I am, with all my heart, sorry for your anxiety, but I must ask for your patience until my husband returns."

Trillian tried desperately not to show his disappointment.

"I understand, your royal majesty," he stated softly. "I would, of course, never seek to have you betray your husband's trust by acting in a way that you feel would over reach the trust he has placed in you. I am and will always remain the king's obedient servant and would never seek anyone, especially the Queen, to be anything other than that."

"Thank you for understanding, milord," replied Pauline.

Lord Trillian rose and with a bow to Pauline, turned to leave. As he opened the doors to the library, he bowed again and held the door for a woman, who promptly entered as he closed the door behind her.

The woman made her way to Pauline and offered her a slight smile which was stopped by two scars on her face. She offered the Queen a curtsey and Edward rose and bowed.

"Lady Tara," said Pauline, "what can I do for you?"

"Your royal highness," began Lady Tara, "I have come to ask you to come to lunch, I was sent by your mother to remind you that even a Queen must eat."

Pauline looked at Edward, "Is it lunchtime already?"

"It is, milady," replied Edward.

"There are still so many people to see," said Pauline, half to herself.

"They will have lunch as well, your highness," stated Tara. "You, however, can eat in the private dining room if you prefer..."

"It would be nice to have a few quiet moments," replied Pauline. "Is mother and Mama there?"

"And Lady Donna as well," replied Tara.

"Would you wish to join us, Edward?" asked Pauline.

"Thank you, your highness, but I had planned to meet with Lord Albert for lunch," stated Edward.

Pauline nodded, Albert had not been well and she knew Stasha especially would appreciate having Edward with them.

"Don't let me detain you."

With a bow, Edward made his way out into the hallway, while Pauline and Tara slipped through a side door and made their way to the private dining room. Entering the room, she found Marie and Donna with her mother, offering each a kiss before sitting down and joining them in prayer. Tara moved to leave, but Pauline asked her to stay and have a seat.

"Have you heard anything regarding Jacob?" asked Donna.

"I received a note from him," stated Marie. "Thankfully, he seems to have recovered from the attack and is well, but he will remain with the Glorious One. The Glorious One also sent me a note, explaining that he fears for Jacob's life if people knew that he was Lord Parker's son and that he will see to it that he is protected and cared for until it is safe for him to reemerge."

A silence descended upon the room until Lady Esther spoke.

"It may not be my place, milady," she began, looking at Donna, "but do you believe that he knew...that the Glorious One knew what was going to happen?"

Donna stared down at her plate. Marie knew of the visions she had seen, had never rebuked her or faulted her for not doing more to protect Alex, but the guilt she felt was deep.

"Milady, it is hard to explain," began Donna. "What is seen in visions is not like what is seen in front of your eyes. You see a fork and it is a fork and you know it to be a fork, but in a vision, a fork may not be what it seems, it may mean nothing and it may mean everything. When that thing attacked the village, all I could think of was that in the vision I had seen, there had been two men and now there was only one. Did it mean the vision was wrong? I don't know, I can't say completely...The Glorious One knows something in general and some things specifically, but what those things are...I cannot say."

"Donna," said Marie, "I am certain that he did all that he could for us...for Alex. When he had sent Jacob away, I was so angry with him and so afraid for Jacob, but I understand now that he sent him away to save him. If Jacob had been here, no one knows what might have happened. Might he have been attacked? Who can say...I am sorry that I became angry with him. You and Alex were right to trust him. In my heart, I know he and YOU did all that you could."

Donna leaned to Maria and grasped her hand, "Thank you, Marie, thank you for understanding..."

"I have had reports about some of the boys who were Parker's sons," stated Pauline. "Most have been sent into hiding and those who were not have had a bad time of it. Our men did not arrive in time for some of them...I feel awful about that..."

"It is not your fault, Pauline," stated Lady Tara. "People do not act rationally when they are angry, when they are hurt. It is not always easy to realize that it is wrong to blame the son for the sins of the father."

Pauline stared at her a moment and Tara offered her a slight laugh, "Sounds ridiculous coming from me, doesn't it?"

A knock at the door startled them slightly and then the door opened and Lady Heather entered trailed by her son, Little Randy.

"I am sorry to disturb you all," she stated, "but this young man wanted to speak with his cousin Pauline about a very important matter."

As Pauline turned and pulled the young boy into her arms, Marie thought of the past, of the days when little Jacob would come in and interrupt her meetings and fly into her arms so that she could hug and kiss him. She thought of her promises to his mother, to protect him, she thought of how seeing Pauline with Randy brought back all of those feelings again. She and Alex had fulfilled their promise to Lady Gertrude, they had protected Jacob and had loved him as if he were their own child. And now the cycle was beginning again; how she wished her Alex were here to see it...

***

SIX months had elapsed since the death of King Alex and the beginning of the war. For Jonathan and the men of Zambelia, it had been both a time of military triumph and deep frustration. The plan that Alex and Albert had devised had worked almost flawlessly, each of the King of Darma's armies trapped in the mountain passes they had sought to use to destroy their neighbors.

A week after leaving Gronolo, Jonathan received word that the western army of Darma had capitulated even faster than the eastern army had and soon long lines of prisoners were making their way to hastily built prisons in Gronolo and Zambelia to await the new king's pleasure. It was almost three months before the defeat of Tidon's navy reached their ears and by then, the kingdom of Darma was, for the most part, secured and subjugated.

While almost everything had happened as planned, one thing had not; Tidon, the Lord Cailin and a group of his officers had continued to evade the massive influx of soldiers into his former kingdom. Two entire armies were now searching the icy reaches of Darma for Tidon, sweeping through the country on a quest to find him.

Wrapped in heavy furs, Jonathan led one of the armies through the snowy eastern regions of the country while Randy had been given command of the western army. Originally, Lord Chester was to maintain command of the eastern army with Jonathan leading the western army, but Lord Chester had fallen ill, the inhospitable Darma climate causing him to catch pneumonia. With Wilton now by his side, Jonathan had made him his chief of staff and had given command of Lord Chester's army to Randy.

Jonathan was well pleased with how his two best friends had acquitted themselves during this awful time. Wilton had thrown himself into his job but rarely spoke to Jonathan about anything other than work, keeping the agony of his wife's betrayal and death to himself. While unable to articulate it, he was extremely grateful for Jonathan's continued presence and concern and the two men often spent their evening together, speaking little but by their presence, offering each other comfort and consolation for their losses.

As the weather continued to deteriorate a council of the remaining nobles of Darma had requested a meeting with Jonathan to formally surrender their country to him. Jonathan arrived at the head of his army at the site indicated, his men fearful of a betrayal or trick. Entering Tidon's fortress, Jonathan had taken his place on Tidon's throne as the nobles assembled swore their loyalty to him and surrendered their lands to him. To their surprise, Jonathan did not stay for the celebration they had planned. Despite his injuries, Brogdan had recovered sufficiently to join the King at the same time Wilton had been sent north. With the winter storms increasing, Jonathan decided to leave Brogdan in charge of settling accounts with the nobles in order to renew his quest to find Tidon.

The nobles had indicated that Tidon had left with what few warriors still followed him and had headed off to an area called the Land of Silver Lakes, seeking a castle there that stood on an island in the middle of a great lake accessible by water only. Even with a small force, Tidon would be able to hold a place like the one they described almost indefinitely.

"I must capture him before he gets there," stated Jonathan. "We must end this thing now."

"He has a good head start on us if these men are to be believed," replied Brogdan.

"With the weather deteriorating, he will have to slow down and that might give us the opportunity to catch him," stated Wilton. "He must be captured and made to pay for what he has done...for all of the harm that he has caused."

Jonathan watched the muscles in Wilton's jaws clench and unclench. Tidon was the last one, the last link to the treachery that had killed his father and had caused Wilton's misery. He was certain that his friend wanted nothing more than to run Tidon through or to die trying. He understood Wilton, because he felt the same way.

***

While the armies swept into the northern wastes of Darma, Life in Zambelia, had fallen into a pattern at the royal castle at Wharton. It was Pauline's practice to rise early and join her family, Marie and Esther, Annalisse, Heather, Donna, Tara and Stasha for morning mass. On some days Albert, Anthony or even Edward would join them when time permitted, but the ladies never missed a single day. After mass, she and the others would spend part of the morning helping the doctors care for the many wounded warriors that were returning from the battles up north.

Pauline spent most of her afternoons in the library. It was there, away from the court, that she would conduct the business of meeting commanders, issuing orders and doing her best to make decisions in Jonathan's absence. Marie, Heather, Donna and Tara often joined her as she met with various officials and nobles as did Edward, Albert and occasionally the Baron Fiskar. Each would, when asked, offered their counsel to the Queen, each one supporting her to the best of their abilities.

Many people found it odd that the new Queen seemed to avoid the audience chamber, but Pauline could not bare the thought of sitting upon the Queen's throne. In her mind that was Marie's chair and always would be and she could not find it in her to take her mother's place. She also knew that sitting in that room would be more difficult for Marie and Annalisse, so her business was conducted quietly in the library, in a place that was built for silence and reflection.

To those who worked with her, Pauline seemed to provide and almost constant source of amazement. More than one conversation had been held in regards to how someone so quiet and unassuming could command such respect and devotion. She never seemed to order anything and yet everyone seemed only too willing to serve her. Certainly nothing in her bearing could explain the general reaction to her, in fact more than one person had to be directed to who the Queen in the room was upon gaining admittance to speak with her. Despite her shy and retiring nature everyone, from the messengers to her mother-in-law knew that they wanted to do their best for this quiet, shy woman who dealt with everyone so gently and generously.

Sir Edward shared a daily briefing with Pauline and found her to be keenly insightful and wise beyond her years. She, like the rest of the court, had rejoiced at the news of the King's victories, though the knowledge that none of it would have been possible if it had not been for Alex and Albert's mountain pass traps, made the victories bittersweet. Pauline had expressed the feeling at court concisely when she had stated to Lady Tara, "No victory, no matter how glorious, can compare with having Father here."

Through their daily correspondence, Pauline had been able to share all that was happening at home with Jonathan and he with her. She knew his pain at having to leave and miss his father's funeral, his guilt at having left his mother and sister and her at such a painful time, but she assured him always of her love and understanding, as did Marie and Annalisse.

She had been able to report to Jonathan that all of Parker's former conspirators had been languishing in jail. She did not make mention of the fact that the King's Council had called for the prisoner's immediate execution. She, however had reminded them that the King alone could make such a decision and gently, but firmly, refused to be forced into anything regarding them. Despite her quiet demeanor, Pauline could be remarkably forceful when anything that might infringe upon her husband's authority was brought before her. Despite their grumbling and constant requests, the Council's urging had not moved the Queen at all.

Pauline entered the library prior to today's meetings for a few moments of quiet and was surprised to find Tara waiting for her. Tara drew closer to her and hugged her tightly and then curtsied, which caused Pauline to laugh.

"I would rather that you hugged me than curtsied to me," laughed Pauline.

"You are the Queen as well as my friend," smiled Tara, "besides, you deserve both."

"Have you heard from Brogdan today?"

Tara looked down at the floor with a smile, "I hear from him every day. We will wed when he returns. I just pray that they will return soon..."

Pauline took her hand and led her to a chair and gestured for her to sit down, "No more than I do." Pauline looked down at the floor a moment before continuing, "I am thinking of going to see Jonathan."

For a moment Tara could not understand what she meant.

"Go and see him? How?"

"I think that I will leave next week to see him," she stated softly. "I must speak to him in person, I must see him..."

"But milady," stammered Tara, "you can't be serious. It is dead of winter in Darma and the roadways are filled with soldiers and wounded men and displaced people. How could you seek to leave here and go to him..."?

"There are things I must discuss with him alone and in private," stated Pauline, staring at the floor. "I cannot put everything that is happening here into letters, it is too sensitive..."

"I beg you, milady, reconsider," said Tara softly. "We all miss our men, but to make that journey..."

Pauline grimaced, "I am sorry, Tara, but I must...I must see him."

A soft knock on the door was followed with it opening and Marie entering the room. The Queen Mother entered, her dark dress emphasizing her pale skin. Marie's hair had gone almost completely grey, her long tresses cascading down her back. While she had once again begun to attend functions and did all that she could to help her daughter-in-law, she was quieter and melancholier than she had been before. Forcing a smile, she drew closer and kissed both women in turn.

"They are awaiting you, Pauline," she said softly. "Is everything alright?"

Pauline stood and hugged her gently, "Mother, I was just telling Tara that I must go and see Jonathan."

Marie's eyes went wide, "Go and see him? You mean travel to Darma?"

Pauline nodded.

"I begged her to reconsider, milady," stated Tara, "but she seems determined to go."

"Pauline, you cannot be serious," stated Marie. "You are needed here and..."

"I am sorry, mother, but I must see him," said Pauline softly. "Certain things cannot be written, I cannot do that to him..."

"I understand, my love," replied Marie, "but the journey is a dangerous one and Jonathan needs you here."

Pauline rose and walked towards the windows, looking out upon the snow on the ground. Darma was supposed to be much colder than Zambelia. It would be a hard journey, but she needed to see him, so speak with him.

"I am sorry, mother," she whispered. "I need to speak with him. I must see Jonathan..."
Chapter 28

Donna had gone home to her estate for a week to check on things before preparing to return to Wharton. While she trusted her staff, she still needed to look into several things herself before returning to Wharton. Besides, she had promised Ernest that she would send him a few things that were at home. Her servant Ariel entered and spoke to her softly.

"Your highness, the Glorious One is here to see you."

Donna tried to hide her surprise.

"Please, show him in, Ariel."

The girl curtsied and withdrew, returning a moment later with the familiar, elderly figure.

"Donna, my dear," he stated softly, taking a proffered chair and smiling up at her.

"Glorious One," she smiled. "Is Jacob with you?"

The Glorious One shook his head, "No child, Jacob is away and safe. He will not be bothered by his father's legacy for a long time, not until he is able to deal with it."

"We miss him terribly," began Donna as she took a seat opposite him.

"I understand, but I ask that you, all of you, trust me in this." He grimaced as he continued, "I know asking for your trust after what happened to the King is difficult, but believe me, my child, things could have turned out far worse."

Donna began to cry, "Oh, Glorious One, I feel as if I failed the people I love most in the world. All I could do was warn Marie and even that I could not do properly. I failed them, Marie and Annalisse and my beloved Ernest...oh the pain he's gone through..."

"I know it does not seem so, my dear, but it could have been far worse," stated the Glorious One. "As it is, I have heard ugly reports of Parker's bastard children being attacked, of his former lovers being beaten and worse...we can point the way, my dear, but we cannot make people's decisions for them."

"Was there no way for us to contain her, Glorious One?" snapped Donna. "If I had known, I would have killed her myself and..."

"And become worse than she was," interrupted the Glorious One. Donna stared at him as he continued, "No daughter, she had to make the choice herself and you forget her child..."

"Her child?" asked Donna. "She had no child..."

"She bred a child," stated the Glorious One. "Or I should say, she bred an unnatural child..."

Donna's eyes went wide, "She served as a passage?"

The Glorious One rose and stalked the room silently as if arguing with himself. He had already said too much, but he trusted Donna; now he had to trust her even more.

"The woman called Susan was originally named Elizabeth. Her mother had borne her through the use of a passage. Her birth mother was a merchant's wife who could not bear a child, but who wanted a daughter and who paid a Malefactor to act as a passage, fooling her husband into thinking he was laying with his own wife."

Donna stared at him and tried to comprehend what he was saying. It was strictly forbidden for a sorceress to perform as a passage because of the wild variations that might occur. Part of the sorceress would become part of the child that was created which could lead to dire consequences for all involved.

"Who did she act as a passage for?" she asked.

"The Lady Gertrude," stated the Glorious One.

"So THAT is how Jacob gained his power..."

"Through his contact with his passage," finished the Glorious One. "But there is more; Lady Gertrude had desperately desired a boy child for her husband, which is why she engaged Susan; she paid for her desire with her life, it was the cost of insuring that the baby would be a boy."

Donna's eyes went wide, "That makes Jacob..."

"A Malefactor at birth," stated the Glorious One. "He is the son of two mothers. There was no way to determine which path he would take until he was faced with his own decision. Jacob will never be allowed to regain his powers, if he were to regain them, he would inherit all of her powers and something more; her hold would become dominant."

"If Jacob can hurt no one..." she began.

"Others can still hurt Jacob," explained the Glorious One, answering her question before she had asked it. "He will stay with me until such time as he might return safely to the bosom of his family. Now is not that time, Donna."

"Does he know about Alex?" asked Donna softly.

The Glorious One nodded, "He does not fully understand all that has taken place, of course, but he knows that his uncle died saving his family and his kingdom. He grieves, he even grieves his father's death though he hides it well...He will be with me for a time, Donna. You are to tell the Queen...I mean, the Queen Mother, all that I have told you. Explain it to them as best you can. They will not see Jacob for some time but assure them that he is well. Also, Donna, assure them that I have stated that nothing more could be done regarding King Alex. I mourn him as does everyone else, but he too made a decision; a heroic one and the right one. We will all have to be satisfied with that even though none of us ever will be."

Donna nodded as the Glorious One made his way to the door.

"I will see you soon, my child. God bless you..."

"And you as well, Glorious One..."

She watched him leave and then followed him into the hallway, watching as he made his way to a small cart in the courtyard. For the first time she noticed how old he seemed, how tired he appeared. It had been a hard time for all of them, but how much more for him? Could he see it all? If he could, how horrible to be able to see it all and do nothing to prevent it...

***

Annalisse and Anthony made their way into the village of Wharton, a brigade of soldiers forming a guard around them. The villagers had erected a monument to the fallen king in the town square and while they were certain that Jonathan would, upon his return, have a commemoration of it, the village leaders had asked that a member of the royal family come and view the monument, hoping to receive their approval.

While it had been decided that the gathering would be of a more informal nature, a large crowd had gathered at the foot of the large stone that stood on the awful spot where Alex had fallen despite the frigid weather. Anthony felt Annalisse clutching his arm more tightly with each step as they crew closer to the large granite slab.

In relief, Alex stood, sword upraised in triumph and beneath it read the legend,

HERE KING ALEX THE GOOD FOUGHT AND GAVE HIS LIFE

FOR HIS WIFE AND DAUGHTER AND THE PEOPLE OF HIS

KINGDOM. IN GRATEFUL REMEMBERENCE, WE DEDICATE THIS

MONUMENT TO HIM – A GREAT AND HUMBLE MAN AND A

TRUE WARRIOR

Annalisse read the words and tears came to her eyes. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the corner where the monster had fallen, the new stones that had replaced the scorched ones standing out in stark contrast to the ones beside them. Looking up into the cold, winter sky she saw the beautiful blue color that seemed to stretch into eternity. It was the last thing her father had seen and despite the cold, it made her feel warm that he had looked out into that peaceful sky.

The mayor of the town and several officials drew closer as Annalisse reached out and touched the stone, gingerly tracing the words "a great and humble man" with her finger tip. Turning to them, she forced a smile.

"It is beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you with all of my heart for this marker. I would rather he was here than anything else in this world, but this is a beautiful tribute and reminder. Somehow, it makes him seem closer and I thank you all for that gift."

The officials bowed and nodded as the princess and her husband turned and made their way back towards Wharton. It was not until they had entered the private room behind the throne room that Annalisse hugged Anthony tightly and gave way to her tears.

***

The man's face was long and narrow, his teeth irregular, his clothing rough and heavy.

"Of course, I've seen him," snapped the man. "You think I don't know a king when I see one? I'm not stupid!"

Jonathan stared down at him, his patience growing thin. Jonathan looked different, a heavy beard covering his face, his hair blown wild by the ceaseless wind, his dark eyes seeming hard. He rose from the chair and made his way across his tent towards the man who stood between two guards.

"How long ago did you see him?"

"Yesterday," spat the man. "He was getting ready to cross the ice, going to Silver Lake Castle. "Why go there?" says I. Tells me to shut up and asks about sleighs. Ain't got no sleighs! I'm the blacksmith, don't build sleighs. Build sleigh runners! You got a sleigh, I'll build you runners, but I don't build no sleighs!"

"Did anyone give him sleighs?" asked Jonathan impatiently.

"No," snapped the man. "He and his men set out on foot; horses are near dead. I know a horse when I sees one and theirs was all played out, skin and bone and nothing left. No forage here for your horse if you're outdoors. If you didn't bring any, no forage for them...the men look no better than the horses; looked like another step and they'd fall down flat from how tired they was..."

"Did you see where they went?" asked Jonathan.

"Onto the ice," he responded, pointing towards the enormous lake just outside the tent flap. "Began walking across it yesterday."

Jonathan nodded and signaled the guards, "Take him away."

Stepping outside behind the guards walking with the man, he pulled the fur on his shoulders closer to his face. It was a brutal wind coming off the lake and it whipped the snow into a frenzy. It would take a desperate man to try and walk in this weather anywhere, never mind across a frozen lake to a distant castle.

Wilton stepped up beside him.

"We've found 5 sleighs," he reported. "We have them hitched and ready. The locals swear by their horses, call them "Ice Ponies". They say they never misstep no matter how slippery the ice."

"Fill two sleighs with archers and two with swordsmen," instructed Jonathan. "We need to stop them before they reach the castle."

Prince Ernest drew closer, his face covered in a heavy grey beard, his eyes watering from the cold and wind.

"We need to catch them before they reach the castle," he said loudly over the wind. "If they get to the castle, sire, we'll have to lay siege to it. Even with the few men he has, he could hold up for months if the place has the proper fortifications."

Jonathan nodded as he continued to look out over the lake, "I pray we catch them, we are so close..."

Within the hour the five sleighs were flying across the ice in the direction of the castle. A local guide kept them on track through the rising storm. Suddenly a shape loomed up before them, something dark protruding from the ice. Slowing, they saw that it was two horses, both dead, lying on their sides, mouths agape and eyes open. Once past them, they picked up their pace again. It was another ten minutes or more and then, ominously a great hulking something seemed to rise up just out of view. It was grey and square and as they drew closer, Jonathan knew that it had to be the castle. If they had gotten inside, he and his army would have to lay a winter siege on a frozen lake, not an attractive proposition. Suddenly someone in one of the sleighs yelled.

Unable to hear what the man was saying over the howling wind; the group followed the direction of his arm and at last saw several figures trudging a head of them. The sleighs bolted forward, the two filled with archers were a swarm of activity. As the figures became more distinct, the archers let loose a volley, but the wind sent the arrows scattering. Unfortunately, while none of the arrows hit their mark, they alerted the men they were aimed at that they were being pursued. Flight was pointless, they would never get to the castle before the sleighs got to them, so they formed in a circle and drew their swords.

Tidon stood in the center of the group, his sword drawn and watched as the sleighs flew towards them like dragons from a frozen hell. Suddenly the sleighs were upon them and through them, knocking men down as men reached out with swords and struck at the men on the ice. Tidon watched his men fall and the sleighs run past them and reign up. The remaining men with him rushed towards the sleighs, trying to maintain their footing against the slick ice and vicious wind. They had hoped to attack the men before they could alight from the sleighs but had been too slow and now they arrived just in time to join in battle.

Tidon could see that both sides boasted about the same number of men as they joined together. The wind and snow made it almost impossible to see much more than the person before you and Tidon was one of the last to join in the battle. A large younger man made his way towards him, his sword drawn and struck a heavy blow which the king parried. The two circled for a moment and then began to fight in earnest. The problem for both was their footing, they had to fight much more erect and stiffly than would be the norm since too much foot movement might cause one to fall. He could see the anger in the young man's eyes, even though most of his face was covered. For Wilton, he was certain that the man standing before him was the person's whose ambitions had caused his wife to disgrace him every bit as much as Parker's lust had caused it. Wilton forced himself forward and was getting the better of the contest when one of Tidon's men suddenly appeared out of the thickening snow filled air around them and distracted him. Suddenly it was two against one and Wilton could hear the Lord Albert's instructions ringing in his head. He began to carefully back away, engaging both but fighting a slow retreat.

Tidon stumbled, hurrying too quickly to his side in the hopes of striking a blow when suddenly an older man slid out of the white storm and struck at him. The man sported a grey beard and watery eyes and was yelling at him as he struck at him viciously. Tidon was so surprised he stumbled backwards. Ernest saw the man who was responsible for his brother's death standing before him and with his well-known agility and sure footedness was pressing upon Tidon, who suddenly turned and broke into a run. His sudden retreat took Ernest by surprise and it was a moment before he bolted after him.

Blindly, Tidon ran into the white swirling haze that engulfed them and out of which another figure suddenly appeared before him. He was young with dark eyes and a dark beard and he too screamed as he joined swords with Tidon. Jonathan had just slain the man who he had been fighting when the man appeared out of the rising storm, charging at him like a ghostly image out of the blinding storm. Tidon could see that the young man was fast and skillful and he was having all that he could do to remain on his feet and keep his sword in his hand when he felt it, a sudden feeling of icy cold entering his back. He looked down and saw a blade protruding from his side, the white snow mingling with the blood that streaked its length and then it suddenly reversed course and he felt it pulled out of him. It was then that the pain struck him, the agony that caused him to cry out and he fell to one knee. He looked up just in time to see the young man thrusting his sword downward, the blade entering just below his chin and into his chest, traveling almost straight downwards.

Tidon wanted to scream, wanted to release the pain in some way, but he could manage nothing. He felt his body growing cold as the young man drew his sword out of him. He remained kneeling for a moment and then slowly slid to the ice. His eyes stared out at the snow that began to pile upon the ice near his face, in a minute his features were hidden by a blanket of snow.

The two men stood above him, Jonathan staring down at him and Ernest looking away, crying. It had been his sword that had struck Tidon from behind and Jonathan's sword that had finished him off and somehow it did not matter. No matter how dead Tidon was, it would not bring back a brother or father. Jonathan turned to Ernest and hugged him close and the two wept and thought of their father and brother and friend.
Chapter 29

It was a month later. The stream of wounded warriors had fallen to a trickle but the winter roads were still clogged, clogged with men and machines of war trying to return back through the brutal winter weather to their homes, trying to reach far flung out posts to inform the inhabitants that the King was dead and there was a new King and a new order.

Jonathan was still a two days ride from the border between Darma and Gronolo when he and his men had stopped for the evening at a castle vacated by a nobleman, his army encamped on the grounds, the men doing their best to bed down and make themselves warm. It had been another long day of marching and there would be several weeks of it before he could return to Wharton and his beloved Pauline.

He sat in what must have been a dining room at one time, though most of the furniture was missing having been cut up as fuel for fires. Ernest and Wilton were with him and Brogdan, all four sitting in an odd assortment of chairs near the fire, speaking only occasionally, each lost in his own thoughts.

The room to the door opened to their displeasure, making the room noticeably colder. The men looked up and each was surprised. The man was dressed in furs, as were they all, but his furs were neat, his boots clean. His face was very red, but clean shaven and he did not walk with the stiff gait of the men who had campaigned many miles in the frozen wilderness, he walked like a courtier. Presenting himself to the men, he offered them a gracious bow and peered at their faced until his eyes came to rest upon Jonathan.

"Your majesty?" he asked quietly.

"Yes?" answered Jonathan.

The man smiled and turned back toward the door. Opening it, he bowed and a small figure covered in a cloak with a hood trimmed in fur entered. The door was in the shadows of the room, the fireplace throwing neither heat nor light that far and it took a moment before the men realized that a woman was stepping into their midst. Each rose as the lady threw back her hood and the courtier announced, "Her majesty, the Queen!"

"Pauline!" gasped Jonathan. He made to move to her but she held up her hand.

"Please, no Jonathan," she said softly. Looking at the others she offered a sad smile, "Might you gentlemen excuse us?"

The others rose and bowed stiffly, shocked by the sudden appearance of the Queen. Still, after a glance at Jonathan, they immediately withdrew. Pauline followed them with her eyes until the door closed and then looked at her husband.

For a moment, she stared at him and then reaching up, gingerly touched his beard. "How like your father you look," she said softly, before regaining her composure and stating, "I must speak with you, Jonathan."

Jonathan could barely grasp the fact that she was standing before him. Why would she not let him hold her, it was all he prayed to do for these many months. Was she angry with him for leaving her?

"Pauline,,,"

"Jonathan, I must speak to you," she stated firmly. He stood in silence having no idea of what to do. "Jonathan, much has changed since you left, so much...I wanted to tell you in a letter, Jonathan, but I just could not..."

"Tell me what?" he asked, his anxiety growing.

"I have changed, Jonathan," she said, looking up at him, her large eyes looking almost frightened. "I do not know if you will be happy or not, but I have changed..."

"My love, you are all that I dream of..." he began. Moving towards her, he stopped at her upheld hand.

"I don't know how to tell you," she said softly. Reaching up, she undid the knot at her throat that held her cloak and let the cloak fall to the floor.

Jonathan looked at her as she stood, staring down at the floor.

"Well?" she asked, "Please I beg you, don't leave me in suspense, Jonathan."

Jonathan stared for a moment more and then stated, "I do not know what I am supposed to be looking at..."

Pauline stared up at him.

"Can't you see?" she asked, obviously surprised.

Jonathan looked at her, she was his little Pauline. She was in a green dress that appeared to be made of heavy material which was good because of the awful cold outside.

"It is a very heavy material," he stated finally.

Pauline looked at him as if he were mad, "Not the material, Jonathan!"

Jonathan shrugged, "My love, why do you torture me? I have dreamed of having you in my arms and you hold me away..."

Pauline slowly turned to the side and showed him her profile. It took him a moment because Pauline was a tiny girl and the gown was a heavy one. Then his eyes went wide.

"My love, are you with child?" he whispered.

Pauline nodded, "I did not know what you will think...I had to come and tell you in person, I could not write in a letter..."

She could not finish her thought for Jonathan swept her up into his arms and kissed her with all of the pent-up love he had been holding in check for seven long months. After a long while, he gingerly lowered her into one of the chairs by the fire and knelt beside her.

Stoking his hair, she smiled through her tears, "I did not know how you would feel, with all of the change and problems and now to become a father..."

"I love you and I love our child and I could not be happier," he laughed. "I have seen so much hate and blood and you bring life and beauty. Oh, my angel," he kissed her again. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry..."

"No," she smiled. "No, you did not harm me in any way..."

"We must get you home," he whispered. "We must get you back to where it is warm..."

"I am fine Jonathan," she whispered and she leaned towards him and kissed him. "As long as I am with you, I am fine..."

***

Brogdan retreated to his room on the second floor of the castle, sliding behind the heavy door and preparing for bed. He suddenly felt both tired and excited; exhausted from another long day's march and excited because Pauline was here. She was like the first bird of spring, if she were here, then home was not far off. Soon they would be home again, back to Zambelia and he could marry his love and live the life he had prayed for.

Sliding out of his clothes, he felt the cold wrap around his skin as he slipped into a nightshirt and slid into bed. To his surprise, there was a knock at his door.

"Enter," he snapped.

The door opened and a figure in a dark cloak stood at the foot of his bed. Before he could say anything, the figure threw back the hood to the cloak and slid down on top of him.

"TARA!" he whispered.

"Oh, my love," she groaned as she kissed him.

For a long time, they kissed and held one another. Finally, Brogdan began to think again.

"How did you get here?"

"I could not let Pauline go to see her husband by herself," she stated. "Lady Heather and I joined her."

"It must have been a harsh journey," he whispered, gently touching her face and staring into her eyes. "Are you real? I can't believe that you are real..."

Tara laughed and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly, "I am real my love and I don't ever want to be apart from you again."

"We will never be apart again, my love," he swore.

Gently, he pulled the cloak away from her and then pulling her to him, he began to loosen her clothing. Tara reached down and began to pull up his nightshirt, longing to touch him, to have him in her arms. She felt her dress leaving her, drawing downwards away from her body until she felt the chilled air caressing her back.

Looking down she marveled at her lover's body, his well-muscled torso, his heavy legs. He lifted her effortlessly and pulled her clothing down and away from them, throwing her dress to the floor as pulled her towards him and threw his blanket over her. She lay on top of him, her body draped upon him as the blanket was draped upon her. As he caressed and touched her most hidden places, she moaned and leaned back, lowering herself upon him and straddling him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he increased his pace, her dark hair whipping his chest as she tossed her head back and forth, her moaning filling the tiny room. They reached their ecstasy together and then fell, sweating and panting into each other's grasp.

"Never leave me, my love," she whispered as he cradled her onto the mattress, rising above her to renew their love making.

"Never," he promised as he leaned down to kiss her once more.

***

Six months had passed since the war had ended. The King and his Queen had returned to Wharton in triumph and a week after their return, the Queen delivered a son, a strong, healthy boy with large light eyes and a dimpled smile. They had wanted to call him Alex for his grandfather, but Marie had objected.

"Your father would not approve," she said softly. "He would not want him to be compared to anyone."

She saw their disappointed looks and knew how much they wanted to honor Alex. She smiled at a distant memory of her beloved, a day they had been out riding together, speaking of so many things.

"Once I had asked your father what name he would have given to a son if we had had a child together," she said wistfully. "He surprised me and said Titus. He had read a story as a young boy about a heroic man who had gone off to a distant land and had all sorts of adventures and his name was Titus. He had always liked that name after that..."

Jonathan looked to Pauline, who was holding their infant son and smiled, "What do you think, my love."

"It is a fine name," she replied. "Titus he shall be."

Marie took the little fellow from his mother and held him in her arms. How happy her Alex would have been to hold him; how proud he would have been. She smiled and held him tightly. She would tell him about his Grandfather, about the wonderful man who had loved them so much that he had died to defend them. She would see to it that her Grandson was proud of his Grandfather and she knew in her heart how proud Alex would have been of them all.
Chapter 30

Albert sat in his study and watched as Ernest, Donna and Edward entered. All three took the chairs opposite him and he smiled wanly. He glanced about the room as if recalling so many important things and then put his hands down on the desk.

"I have served three kings and I am an old man," he stated softly. "Stasha and I are no long young and I know that I have no service left to give. It is time for a younger man to step into my place and handle my responsibilities."

The others glanced at one another as he continued.

"I have spoken to Jonathan and he has graciously allowed me to step down. He is hoping as my last act, that I will secure the services of my successor..."

"I am deeply flattered," stated Ernest suddenly, "but it is a bit of a letdown, I must confess. I thought he would declare me Lord Protector of the Darma territory, but if this is what he wants..."

"He does not want you to succeed me," frowned Albert. "Why he would not want his mad uncle as his closest advisor, I could not say, but he wants Edward to succeed me."

"Edward?" asked Ernest in mock surprise. "Then I will be made Lord Protector?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," replied Donna. "I cannot get you to pick up your toys most days, I doubt you are up to the task of governing an icy wilderness. Besides, I have no wish to spend my declining years as an icicle."

"Getting back to Edward," stated Albert with a roll of his eyes. "Would you be willing, Edward?"

"I will take the position, milord, only if I might know that you will receive me and advise me when I have problems," responded Edward.

Albert smiled, "There is not much left to me, my friend, but if I can help you in anyway, you have but to ask. Jonathan insists that Stasha and I stay on here at Wharton and Stasha has stated that if I thought I was taking her away from Jonathan, Pauline and the baby, I had best get the idea out of my head."

"What of Stasha?" asked Donna softly.

"Stasha too, is stepping aside," stated Albert with a sad smile. "Lady Esther and the Queen will take over the running of the household, with Ellen handling the kitchen. I always said that Stasha did the work of three people and it seems I am correct."

Rising, Albert stepped out from behind his desk and as each rose, he embraced them.

"I always thought that Alex would be the one to accept my retirement," he whispered softly, his eyes tearing at the thought of the man who had been like a son to him. "I have seen many wonderful things and some very terrible ones. I am glad that good fortune is now smiling upon us once again, how I wish he had lived to see it."

Donna wrapped her arms around him and together they made their way out of the study and headed downstairs towards the audience chamber.

***

It had been less than a month since the new King and Queen had been formally crowned, the coronation long delayed, first by the war and then by its aftermath. The remaining nobles of Darma had sworn allegiance to Jonathan as had the nobles of all of the lands that Darma had conquered. He had been crowned King of Zambelia and the territories of Vesek and Darma and was the most powerful monarch in the world. His brother-in-law Anthony had secured the independence of Gronolo, which, despite now being completely surrounded by Jonathan's kingdom, would remain forever free and independent. For a time, some of the more ambitious nobles had pressed for the absorption of the duchy into the growing Zambelian Empire, but Jonathan would never go back on his or his father's word and Anthony and Annalisse returned to their home with the assurance that the Duke and his successors would always rule in Gronolo.

There were other changes as well, many of them starting with the new Queen. Upon Pauline's request, Jonathan had decided to keep the beard he had grown while on campaign, which made him look, in her estimation, even more handsome than he did when he was clean shaven. Many people remarked that it also gave him a passing resemblance to his father Alex, a fact that filled Jonathan with great happiness and pride. An additional benefit was that his beard also made him look decidedly unlike his birth father Robert, a fact that was not lost on Lady Tara, who found that the King was no longer as visually troubling to her as he once had been.

Another of the new Queen's requests was even more shocking; she had asked Lady Tara to become one of her ladies in waiting. Tara had come to treasure the Queen's friendship almost as much as Pauline had come to treasure her and after some initial hesitation, Tara had agreed to join Lady Heather and several other women as the new Queen's Ladies in Waiting. They, like all of those who served at court, had become greatly devoted to Pauline.

Pauline had also convinced Jonathan to give the estate of Angelrod, their first home, to Brogdan and Tara as a wedding gift. Tara and Brogdan's wedding had been the first truly happy occasion the royal couple had attended since the birth of their son and it signaled the end of the period of mourning and the beginning of a new era. While they would always mourn the loss of Alex, they knew that he, more than anyone, wanted them to find joy and happiness. One of Jonathan's happiest memories and indeed, one of his greatest surprises had been to actually dance with the Lady Tara at her wedding. As he smiled down at her, he ruefully thought that he had never been more thankful for his beard than at that moment.

There were many changes taking place at court. Jonathan had raised Randy up to be the overall commander of the armies of Zambelia for his work on the Darma campaign. With Albert's retirement, he had also decided to make Edward a duke for his service to the kingdom and especially to Pauline while he had been away. To his sorrow, the one man he did not get to thank for his service was the Baron Fiskar, who had died shortly before he and Pauline had returned home. The Baron, who had held such a low opinion of his father, King Alex and perhaps an even lower one of Jonathan himself, had put aside his distrust of the king's decisions out of love for his country. He was universally mourned and many spoke of his deep devotion to the homeland he had served so faithfully. The Baron had received a funeral full of military honors and had been given the heroes honor or being laid to rest in the crypt of the Kings in the cathedral at Wharton.

Jonathan also raised Wilton to the position of court chancellor. While Wilton had not full recovered from his wife's betrayal nor from her loss, Jonathan and Pauline as well as Randy and Heather had seen glimmers of the old Wilton at times and all hoped that in time, Wilton would once again find happiness.

***

It was a week after the celebrations marking Albert and Stasha's retirements had ended that the Glorious One had come to speak to the new king. Entering Jonathan's study, he took a chair and smiled at the young man who had assumed so much authority in such a short time. He understood the pressure Jonathan was under and knew that Alex had chosen wisely. His son would be a very good King.

"I have come as I had promised in my letter," stated the Glorious One.

"I am glad to have you here," smiled Jonathan. "We are all very concerned about Jacob..."

"I think, sire, that it is best for a time, that Jacob remain with me," replied the Glorious One. "His is a most special case and now that he no longer has powers..."

"I thought that you were going to return them to him..." began Jonathan.

"No, milord," he said softly. "That part of his life has ended, thankfully and Jacob will never again be able to practice the craft."

Jonathan frowned, "He has lost his home, his father and now his powers...I do not doubt you, Glorious One, but..."

"The first two were losses, I concede," state the Glorious One, "but the third, I promise you, is a gift. It is the removal of a curse, both for Jacob and for everyone we know. I promise you sire, that in two years' time, he will return."

"Two years?" asked Jonathan.

"Yes sire," replied the Glorious One. "There are other circumstances that we must consider, not the least of which is your cousin, Joseph."

"Joseph? Uncle Ernest and Aunt Donna's Joseph?"

"Yes, sire," smiled the Glorious One. "One day, Joseph will have important responsibilities. He needs time to grow in ways he will not be able too if Jacob is here. It is best to keep them apart for the time being. Also, there is much animosity towards the offspring of Lord Parker..."

"I have done all that I can to secure..."

"I understand sire, but for now, please," stated the Glorious One.

Jonathan went to speak and then stopped. He could hear his father's voice, "Sometimes we must trust that others know better than we do..."

"Very well, Glorious One," he said softly. "We will wait anxiously to hear from you and from him..."

"Thank you, sire," replied the Glorious One.

To Jonathan's surprise, he looked up and the old man was gone.
Chapter 31

As Marie dressed, she thought of the momentous events that had taken place, of the loss of her beloved Alex and of the elevation of her son to the throne, of the marriage of Annalisse and the loss of Jacob. Jonathan had assured her that Jacob would eventually return and while she believed him, she was not sure that she would last long enough to greet him when he resurfaced.

Her love for her new grandson knew no bounds and she found happiness in many things, but there was a hole in the center of her life. Without Alex to share it all with, her joy was never full nor her happiness complete. Still, she had pledged to herself to never complain, her life had turned out much happier and much more fulfilling than she could have ever imagined and for that, she thanked God and her Alex every day.

Making her way through the castle, she smiled as she took her well worn path to the small side door through the garden wall that led do the little path that led to the village of Wharton. Gaining the path, she made her way down towards the village, two guards trailing her, each man a discreet step behind her. She remembered Brogdan, the world's most obvious spy, following her at the King's command and could not contain her smile. He was Lord Brogdan now, one of the king's most trusted advisors and too busy to follow her now. Like so much of her life, she had to accept the new, like the new guards that had been assigned to protect her. The passage of time, she mused, so much has happened, so much...

She saw the sun just beginning its daily journey, turning the sky a brighter orange it seemed with every step. It was much earlier than she used to leave to care for the poor, but it was her routine now, one that she clung too and which gave her life focus, a new normal if not a welcomed change. As dawn broke over the village, Marie hesitated beside the monument to her beloved Alex and gently touched the outline of his raised relief as she read the words she knew so well. With a slight, sad smile, she crossed the square and made her way to the cathedral and entered, the two guards taking up their positions on either side of the enormous wooden doors, leaving her to enter into the cool darkness alone. It would be an hour before the Queen and Donna joined her for mass, somehow not enough time and yet, too much as well.

The cathedral was massive and dark and yet somehow warm and inviting, the smell of candles and incense offering a pleasant sensation of the familiar and sacred. The massive indoor space was lit only by the light of the barely luminous morning glow through the massive windows and the candles glowing at the altars and before the statues. Marie dipped her fingers in the Holy Water, blessing herself as she made her way down the center aisle until she came to the railing in front of a statue of a young woman with gentle eyes and outstretched hands.

Kneeling before the statue, she smiled up at it and offered the greeting and prayers she said every day in the quiet of the morning, "Good morning, my Lady. With all my heart, I beg you to speak to our dear Lord and thank Him for my children and my grandchild. Thank you for your intercession and thank our dear Lord for all that He has given me, for every trial and every grace and for every happiness and for every sorrow. Please let me never doubt His love for me and always let me feel His guiding hand in all that I do. Please help my family to do good, help us to live in peace and always to do good for others. Ask Him to bless all our people and my Lady, please beg our Lord, do not keep me separated from my beloved Alex too long. Please let me die to sin, to hate and to worldly things and let me live with you and with him forever and ever, amen."

Rising, she moved to the side of the altar and went down several marble steps to the crypt of the Kings of Zambelia that lay beneath the main altar. Taking her customary seat on a bench opposite a bright, white sarcophagus, she smiled and began to speak softly, in a warm and intimate tone.

"I am sure that you see him, but hasn't the baby grown so much? Isn't he beautiful? Pauline is such a good mother to him and Jonathan could not be prouder. I heard from Annalisse yesterday, she and Anthony will be returning next month for a visit..."

-30-

I would like to thank you for reading "The Final Reckoning" the fourth sequel in the "Royal Consort" series. I hope that you have enjoyed this novel and I invite you to let me know what you thought of it. Please feel free to drop me a line via email at mailto:maczazski@hotmail.com. and/or to write a review of the book at the site from which you purchased it. Thanks again for choosing to read the "Royal Consort" series; I hope that you will take the opportunity to read some of my other work and I look forward to hearing from you!

