Coming through the trees, Christof was glad to see Sable waiting for him. He beckoned her over, stopping to assess her appearance although there was nothing he could do now to change his decisions. She was dressed as best as they could manage considering the circumstances. The dress was form fitting around her bust, ladylike but generous at the same time as the fabric clung to her body and created thick straps over her shoulders. The muddy blue colours of the fabric were chosen for a simple reason; they did not represent any of the parties involved in this silent war. The dress was simple, and Christoph was certain no one would accuse the blonde beauty of being royalty, but they wouldn’t dream of trying to pass her off as one.
“Sable, how have you been?” Christof asked, catching a strand of her hair, and twisting it gently around his finger in an attempt to reset the curls that someone had created within them.
Sable shrugged, looking around before crossing her arms under her bust. She was struggling with her assignment, but that was never a truth she would dare speak to Christoph. She wanted his trust and still believed she was the most likely of the rebel women to get close to Evangeline. “The locals are curious about my sudden appearance. I do not think all of them believe my story.” She admitted as much as she dared.
“But Evangeline?” Christof did not care for the villagers and Sable knew how focused he could get. She tried not to take offence, but when she shrugged he motioned for her to continue.
“I have her ear and an invitation to the castle.” She watched as the joy spread through his face. His moods were restricted so often that it brought her more joy than it was owed to see that he was pleased with her report. She knew the feeling would not last. “I have yet to accept it.”
Instantly his eyes darkened, and Sable did her best not to move as he took a threatening step towards her. “You told me I could trust you, Sable, that the efforts of our war were indeed stronger than the comforts Braykith could offer.” It was a warning, and it would be careless for Sable to believe that it was anything else. He had disposed of all of the rebel spies who stopped being useful, and before he could trust her with this task, Christof had been sure to question her motives.
“And I still believe in our cause, but I need to wait for the right time, Christof. Women can be emotional.” She smirked, and was glad to see that Christof knew exactly of what she spoke. “I will be close to Evangeline and learn the inner workings of the Braykith Kingdom, but I cannot push her too quickly.”
Christof sighed and finally nodded. He had to trust her. Otherwise, their relationship would forever be questioned. “Do you believe you can become her confidant?”
“Oh yes.” Of that, Sable was assured. “She is lonely and looking for friends. Evangeline wants to feel like she made genuine allies in her life, and nothing forced upon her. So far, she has rejected every girl of noble blood presented to her.” Sable reported her findings and was happy to see the dark mood slowly fade from his eyes. “But I need her to believe that this is her idea and not mine. She must think that she wanted the friendship.”
Christof did not understand the significance of this difference, and Sable knew it just by the way he paused for a moment. It seemed like he stopped breathing almost as if he was judging his words before he said them. Working so intimately with Christof meant that Sable was getting better at guessing how he would react. “I am trusting you to know what you’re doing,” Christof warned her.
“I am working on her own weakness,” Sable spoke quickly in an effort to soothe him before his disappointment in her acting became physical. “I talked with Evangeline about the locals turning against me and forcing a marriage. It explains their distrust, but Evangeline will not directly speak to others about it.”
Christof sighed loudly, looking behind her in the direction of the Castle. “I gave you this task Sable because you made me believe that you could do it,” Sable said nothing. She feared Christof and his never reliable moods. She had witnessed Christof hurting those closest to him for their wrong doings while beckoning them closer to congratulate them. “If I question all you do, we shall never get closer to our goals, and so I leave this in your hands, Sable.”
She fell to her knees, relieved at his final decision. She did not cry although the emotion pressed tears to her eyes. Looking down, she sniffed quickly and wiped at her eyes with the palms of her hand. “I will not disappoint you, Christof,” Sable promised, and Christof nodded. He motioned her to rise, and she took the opportunity to wipe the last of her emotions on her dress.
“You recall the other people I have placed in the city?” Christof ignored her outburst because there was nothing to say about it. Christof was sure that if one were to ask around camp, most of the people would not name him as a compassionate man. That would be a lie, as far as he was concerned. Christof cared for his people deeply, but he knew a hard man they could fear was what they needed. Perhaps at a different time, he might have been a more emotionally sensitive leader who they could come to when they needed guidance. Christof would never know; this was the time they lived in.
She nodded. “Yes, and I am avoiding them as we discussed.” She told Christof. She was hoping to gain some of the trust that it seemed she had lost during this conversation by reminding him that she remembered his orders.
Christof grunted as he considered her. “I have left many of the spies that Ronald had chosen, but this does not mean I trust them. I have not shared all of my plans with them, just as tasks are being operated on that you are not informed of.”
“Of course Christof.” She smiled gently. “I will send reports as soon as I have works to report on.”
“Just because I have not replaced them, it does not mean that no one is replaceable.” The smile slid from her face instantly, and Christof stood straighter. “Do not give me a just reason to make an example of you.” Christof left, turning back to his horse, climbing onto its back and taking off into the woods without a look back. Sable watched the man leave and tried not to think too hard on his warnings. She had no plans on failing.
CHAPTER FIVE
It is a well-known fact that not very much could survive the fields in Braykith. Until very recently the lands had been covered in dirt with only the strongest of weeds managing to break through the dark and firm soil. The nature of the curse had kept the land in this dying state for centuries. It had been tradition, for reasons no longer known but practiced regardless, for the farms to be kept far from the castle. The grounds were still hard, but they seemed more forgiving in recent times. For aeons, the citizens of Braykith would rise before first light and head off for the fields far from home.
It was a long walk, and it could be lonely, but if you lived the life long enough, you began to enjoy the solitude. Kingston knew some neighbours would come together in the morning, but he did not feel the need to socialise so early. He was not the kind of man who enjoyed being awake and active at dawn. It took some time before Kingston could even speak to his fellow workers. Following the track that he had once made with his father, Kingston wondered if his own son would soon be old enough to help with the farms. He would never deny his own children the morning rituals that he denied his neighbours.
Thinking he might consider inviting his son along to this harvesting season since it was never terrible to have an extra set of hands, Kingston looked up suddenly as someone shouted his name. Kingston increased his stride, but he did not run to the caller. People had been working with him long enough to know he was not a great personality this early. To call him out now meant there was something urgent that needed his attention. He stopped as he came over the hill. One of their paddocks was empty. From this distance, it seemed that the gate had been knocked down. By the gate, four mutilated animal bodies were being discovered.
“What happened here?” he asked Brett, the man who had called him over.
“It looks like a wolf broke into the pens with the cows.” Brett frowned, though, scratching his head as he watched the scene from a safe dist
ance.
“You don’t feel good about it?” Kingston asked.
“Just feels wrong,” Brett said, staring off into the sky but whatever answers he was seeking, it could not be found there. “There is something deliberate about the gate.” Together the men moved off to join their companions.
“Has someone gone to alert King Quintus?” Kingston asked, and Brett nodded.
“I’m not sure how he will be able to help, but I suppose he would want to know if half of our livestock is missing.” Bret sighed and hoped that the King would not think he would need to come and inspect the damage himself. Very few people enjoyed having the King interfere with their lives. “I sent off Johnston and Bower to find the cows. Those tracks are clear in the mud.”
“Why do I have a feeling this is leading up to you asking me for a grand favour?” Kingston asked.
“We all know you are the best hunter we have,” Brett said.
Kingston sighed. “I would not say that is true.” He grumbled.
“Admit it or not my friend, the truth is still apparent to all of us. We need to track down the wolves before they return for more cows.” Brett openly reasoned, and while Kingston knew that it was true, he still doubted he was the only man capable of handling the task.
“Does anyone have a bow and arrow?” he asked, and conveniently one was presented to him almost immediately upon his arrival to the ruined gates. Muttering his thanks, Kingston sighed and set off in the direction the pack had gone.
He had barely made it to the tree line before he started to feel there was something wrong about this. It made no sense to Kingston why wolves would attack their cows but leave the carcass behind. Perhaps they had been startled by someone, and Kingston knew it wasn’t impossible to imagine, but there was still a degree of unsettled nerves about his venture. Walking slowly, he followed what looked like wolf tracks into the heart of the woods.
Frowning, Kingston stopped, looking out into the lands and turned first to the right and then left. Brett had been right in giving Kingston this task. He was experienced with hunting down wolves, but he was sure their den was to the west of where he was standing. These tracks took a different route. Kneeling down, he got a closer look at the footprints he had been following. The shape was close but not perfect. These were not the tracks of wolves, but an attempt to create wolf tracks.
Turning on the spot, Kingston ran for the path and back towards his friends to warn them about the forgery.
***
Mary approached the men working in the field. She remained hopeful even though none of the silhouettes looked like her husband, Kingston. At her side, her son walked with her.
“Where’s Dad?” Patrick asked, holding his mother's hand tighter as she was approached by Brett. Mary only knew the man a little, seeing him come by the house before heading to the tavern with Kingston. They were not on friendly terms, and Mary did not like his wife very much, but she was glad to see a face she recognised. Kingston did not have many friends, and many of the men she had passed on the path were strangers do her.
“Hey, Patrick.” Brett smiled, ruffling Patrick’s hair as if he was still a child when actually he was closing in on his twelfth birthday.
Patrick didn’t stop him, and Mary did not mention it. She had a pressing question to ask. “Have you seen my husband?”
There was no denying the hope in her voice, and the cross of fear that tainted her eyes as Brett looked at her confused. “He didn’t go home?” Brett asked.
Mary shook her head. “He is usually back by now to help with the firewood, but I haven’t seen him.” She looked past Brett, her eyes looking over the few men that still remained but \she could not spot Kingston out there.
“We had a problem with some wolves and the cows overnight,” Brett explained after a moment's hesitation. “Kingston went into the woods to deal with it.” Brett looked in the direction that Kingston had disappeared hours ago, thinking at any moment that Kingston will stride free of the tree line with his prize kill. Brett didn’t tear his eyes away from the spot, and Kingston never emerged. “Maybe he set up camp and planned to wait for daylight? The woods can get tricky at night.”
Mary nodded, and she didn’t argue. She didn’t know how likely it could be, but she preferred to think that her husband was curled up around a fire waiting out the night instead of the hundreds of other scenarios she had been obsessing about all day. “Alright.” Mary turned to leave with Patrick still firmly at her side.
“Hey Mary,” Brett called out. “If he doesn’t show up tomorrow, we will go see King Quintus about it.” Mary smiled and left with a new step of confidence than the shuffle she had been walking with moments ago. Brett watched her leave before looking back into the trees. He didn’t believe Kingston was out in the woods camping, but he would never admit that to Mary.
CHAPTER SIX
Evangeline knew that she had told Glais she would try. However, whenever the opportunity came up, it seemed that she could not follow through, and Evangeline would leave her husband in much the same state she had been leaving him in since their wedding night. She knew this could not last forever, that the job she was destined for as his wife must be fulfilled. Knowing such things had been long decided for her did not make it easy. Evangeline had spent the morning at the church, travelling through the market and hoping to see Sable before she had been forced to return home feeling rejected by her friend.
Glais was waiting for her, standing at the stairs and dressed in his usual uniform. He stopped her breath, not from fear as he suspected but his beauty. Evangeline was aware of his looks, and she knew many thought she lucky to be married to such a handsome man. In those few seconds when she forgot she was standing with a monster, she counted herself lucky as well. The moment never lasted long, and it was rare she felt it at all these days. Far too often her stomach was a jumble of knots, twisting over her anxiety and humiliation of failing Glais.
“I have been waiting for you,” Glais said, and Evangeline looked down, stopping in front of him, and far away enough that he would need to take a step first if he was going to try and touch her. “Thomas tells me you have been at prayer.”
She nodded. “I did not think I would be missed at breakfast.”
Glais smiled, the smallest of changes to his lips that disappeared quickly. “Of course, Mother missed you, but I assured her that you were only looking for answers.”
“How would you know that?” Evangeline knew that Thomas was aware of her whereabouts, but her intentions had been guarded, and yet Glais seemed to know them just as easily as he knew his own.
“Why else would you feel the need to visit the house of Xado?” Glais was amused at how quickly she had suspected foul play on his part but the amusement did not last as he offered her his hand. “You owe me a meal Evangeline. You promised.” It was childish to play such games when in all truth he could demand she join him. Regardless of how she felt, Evangeline would be obligated as his wife and subject to do as he wanted. However, Glais had learned a hard lesson once with Evangeline. She could not be manipulated like others, and she would not be the same as his mother. Quintus has been lucky with his bride. Glais would need to work to claim his wife.
“I am not hungry,” Evangeline said the words automatically and was thankful when her stomach did not growl in the silence that stood between them like a physical beast.
“I simply ask for a moment of your time. Evangeline, please.” Glais looked up the hall, but it seemed deserted. It would not do for the servants or soldiers to witness their Prince pleading with his wife. “You said you would try, and I have been patient with you.” He stopped, halting himself before the emotions took over and he created a real scene.
Evangeline felt the power shift, and she felt terrible for forcing Glais into such a position for a moment. “I am a woman of my word.” She said, licking her dry lips as she considered what she was saying. “After all, what are we if we cannot be honest?” Evangeline drew on all of her memories o
f her mother, the strong stance of her shoulders, the rigid way she held herself and the deliberate placing of her hands to convey strength as she walked. Evangeline brought all of those memories into her own muscles and forced them to replicate the Lady of Crimah as best they could.
She walked past Glais, refusing his hand and let him fall into step behind her. She did not attempt to speak with him as she walked the castle passageways. She did not stop to admire the tapestry, and she did not make excuses to delay this final confrontation. Evangeline could not be sure if she could ever relax around her husband, and yet she would be forced to endure him for as long as her life continued. Lifting her skirts to keep from tripping, she took the stairs and opened the door herself to their shared room.
Glais closed the door behind them, waiting by the entrance since Evangeline had stopped just inside the chamber. He had taken care in decorating the sitting room. A fire was lit, so they were greeted by a warm glow. A soft animal skin laid by it, a small sampling of food on plates within easy reach of the central spot. Evangeline felt goose bumps erupt on her skin, and she hugged herself tightly as she looked over the space. “I thought we would use the bed.” She said.
Glais shook his head, walking forward quietly and slowly as if she were a beast who might dash wildly at the slight provocation. “I want us to be friends Evangeline.” He stopped just behind her. She did not turn, and he did not touch her. Closing his eyes, Glais caught the smell of her perfume. Under that was the scent of the Kingdom clung to her, and he knew that she was losing any hold Crimah had stained her with during her lifetime.
Delusions of Loyalty (The Braykith Series Book 2) Page 4
