Evangeline had made a choice not to wear any jewellery besides her wedding ring and the gold ring Glais had given her, but it seemed her efforts to dress as commonly as she could manage had been in vain. It did not take long to notice the way people stared at them both. Evangeline sighed, once more attempting to hide the bruises that were not visible but she felt everyone could see. Evangeline could only guess at the gossip that circulated about her.
“Just ignore them.” Evangeline heard Sable say. However, she was still mentally preparing to take a stance against anyone who decided to stare too long at them both. Evangeline did not understand the hostility towards her friend, or what she had done to warrant such disrespect. Her trips into the market had been fuelled by a desire to know the people she would someday help rule. Evangeline found it stranger still that the people were firmly against outsiders while Quintus had been so welcoming to her.
Sable awkwardly pulled Evangeline aside. “Eva, people have questions., It is natural.” She whispered, doing her best to appear akward while still open to Evangeline.
Evangeline looked around, trying to find an obvious culprit to make an example of but it was obvious from the beginning that there was no single person to blame. Quintus would not want Evangeline looking weak to his people, and she needed as much support as she could gather. “Why now? I have been quite regular in the markets, learning their stories and local traditions as best as I can.” Evangeline did not want to believe the obvious, although she was sure it was coming.
“Because of Crimah,” Sable answered. “I have to admit myself that your dash off home and your sudden reappearance back here does lead people to wonder exactly what happened out there.”
Evangeline had no idea what to say. It seemed absurd that people would feel compelled to discuss her life like that and stare at her so openly. She clutched at her basket and wished she never came out here at all.
“People have been a little nicer to me lately because they have seen me with you,” Sable added as if it was something to consider as a positive to this whole scenario.
“People wouldn’t believe the truth even if I told them,” Evangeline said after a moment. She looked at Sable, her open and honest face, and her caring demeanour. She reminded her so much of her two friends that Evangeline felt that Xado himself had sent Sable to her as a sign of good faith. “You would believe me, though.”
Sable nodded. “Of course, Eva, I am your friend, and I only ever want to help you.” Sable pulled back, feeling like she might be putting the act on too thick. Evangeline did not seem to notice, or if she did, she certainly didn’t care. Sable thought it was sad how desperate Evangeline was for friendship that she did not second guess who Sable was or what her intentions were. Perhaps no one had ever given Evangeline a reason to question someone.
Evangeline seemed to falter, but she grabbed Sable by her elbow and walked with her towards the castle. Before they reached the gates where the guards were standing Evangeline suddenly turned left and kept walking until they were far from any random passing by people. Evangeline still felt safe enough that should someone call for her, she could be found however there was an element of seclusion just by being off the main paths.
“We could have gone to my cottage,” Sable offered.
“What I want to tell you Sable is very secretive information and who knows who could over hear us there.” She explained herself quickly. “Although Quintus is well aware of all that came to pass, should too many hear of what happened in Crimah it could ruin much of his reputation.” Evangeline bit her bottom lip, still wondering if Sable could be trusted with such intimate details.
“Eva, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Sable said, and she sounded genuine as she said it. Christof could not have picked a better actor for this job.
Any doubts Evangeline might have had about her friend were washed away with those words. She needed to trust Sable eventually, and she had given Evangeline no reason to believe that she meant to do her harm, or embarrass her. “Earl Barret kidnapped and attempted to kill me after my mother died.”
Noticing the way Evangeline would not call Barret her father was interesting but it was not the news that had caused her to gasp loudly. There was no acting now. This was big news, and news that she knew Christof would want. “How?” she asked, hoping to drag details out of Evangeline while she was still in a sharing mood.
“He went mad with grief and believed that killing me would somehow bring my mother back.” Evangeline simplified it drastically because while she trusted Sable with the worst of it, she did not trust her new friend like she did Thomas. “It is worse than that.”
“What could be worse?” Sable thought she sounded too eager, but still, Evangeline was so desperate for a real confident that she did not notice the changing pitch in Sable’s voice.
“Barret has started to become more eccentric about many things. He seeks out shadow men, and blames innocent people for all the wrongs in his life.” Evangeline sighed, still censoring the worst of it, but it felt good to have an ear to listen to her. Sable was someone who might help her make sense of all that was still in trapped in her head. Barret and her brother dominated every thought since her return. In the few moments of peace, she found herself racked with guilt over Glais. It was all she really felt like talking about, but it seemed that her opinions never changed, and she could not find new information within the scenes she had witnessed.
This betrayal was sending Evangeline mad, and she felt it. “Everyone was probably talking about me because of the bruises I returned with.”
Sable nodded. “They did speculate. Although I do not think the injuries were as bad as people said. Some claimed you could not see since your eye was so badly swollen and needed to be carried inside the castle.” Sable repeated the lies she had been listening to for days in hopes of finding something useful. “I can’t notice any discolouration now.”
Evangeline touched her cheek gently, but there was no pain to go with the touch any longer. “I need to save my brother before Barret takes things too far. Quintus wants to wait, but I am finding it difficult to simply allow time to pass and for nothing to be done. I fear even sending a letter to my brother will push Barret further.”
It was difficult for Sable to stand still and nod sympathetically as Evangeline complained. For years, the rebellion had been waiting, never making much of a difference although their leaders all promised they would. And now this unexpected news that Sable could scarcely believe could be the breaking point they were all waiting for. The Earl of Crimah was losing his mind. His wife was dead, and it seemed that his son would not be far off should Barret receive the right push. A mad king who would be mostly defenceless as the troops he did command lost faith in their leader was a rare thing.
Evangeline sat in the grass, looking at the sky and enjoying the warmth on her face. “Some days, like today, it all seems like like just a bad dream.”
Sable sat beside her. “I imagine it was more like a nightmare.” She said, mentally remembering everything she would need to send to Christof later. This broken link in the armour may lead to the downfall of a nation. Sable looked at Evangeline, wondering how foolish could one girl be to trust a stranger with such sensitive news and thanked her for it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Christof had not been expecting the arrival of a new raven from Sable. However, it had found him in the woods and the words on the parchment tied to its leg made the man smile. “Get up.” He bellowed, and pointed to the closest people to him. “You, you, and you. Gather your things. We have an investigation to run.” His excitement was intoxicating and quickly news of this sudden exposition reached the ears of everyone within the camp.
Christof did not tell anyone the particulars. He had to be careful with who knew the truth and what was safe to be released to the larger group. Controlling information was better than currency, and people begged to be included in his selective assembly. They all wanted to be a little closer to the sun, but
Christof knew better than to allow everyone in.
This continued competitive pressure that was motivating them meant Christof went on most of the missions himself. He had been witness to many leaders who would rise and fall, all of them barely making a mark upon the world as they crashed and burned. Christof would not be making those same mistakes himself. Taking the lead on this mission, Christof left the sanctuary of their hideaway and headed through the now familiar paths towards Crimah. Yolanda appeared at his side as they move swiftly through the trees.
She was quickly becoming his go-to companion, but he was sure to make sure she did not feel comfortable in this unofficial role. If others thought the position was filled, then they would lose the fight to claim it. Christof needed them to always be fighting. “What have we got, Captain?” she asked. Yolanda wasn’t from Zorelian, but rather one of the smaller provinces that had fallen after Zorelian had been dominated by the combined efforts of Braykith and Crimah. He knew she came from the sea because she was constantly calling people captain, but beyond that he did not care to learn more of her.
“Sable is making her useful for once.” He said the comment quickly and with a deliberate mocking tone. It wasn’t entirely accurate, and Yolanda knew that, but Christof did not want anyone to think there was security. Security made people lazy and relaxed. Sable was quite good at her job, and Christof was impressed with how often she could give them information that other spies settled within Braykith seemed to be missing, or had deemed unimportant of his notice. It was true that sometimes her notes did not hold anything helpful, but it was times like this that made up for all those wasted pages. “But we need to strike fast.”
“What did she hear?” The competitive edge that kept the rebels alert and breathed new life into their campaign also caused jealousy. Christof did not answer her question and ignored Yolanda now as she looked for more information. She kept up with Christof though, matching him step for step and not slowing down until Christof did first.
They had been going hard for the better part of the day. Now that the sun was setting, Christof brought them to an area that he knew was safe. He knelt, breathing hard from the run but still alert. It would take a lot to break his adrenaline. “We will stay here tonight and take a closer investigation just before dawn.”
Trace smirked. “Crimah’s watch is always sloppy at around three.” Everyone chuckled. Watching their enemy had shown many holes but never could they exploit one with such a promising pay off.
“Sable has words from Evangeline herself that her father is losing his mind,” Christof said, and instantly the group settled. The news seemed too good to be true, and Christof would be cautious even though he trusted the source of information. His followers looked at him with the disbelief plain on their faces. Christof never made jokes, and he would not joke about anything this dire, but it was hard to believe. “It shouldn’t take much to break him.”
Yolanda grinned. “How mad is he?”
***
Barret stood before the prisoners. They had been gathered before him, their arms tied behind their backs and forced to their knees. The blacks of their uniforms made it hard to see if any of them were bleeding, but Barret did not care. They were alive, and they would talk before he was done. Blood would be shed, and when it was over, it would be obvious regardless of the colour of their uniform.
“You.” He pointed to James. “You were the one closest to Glais’ ear.”
James looked left and right to the men on either side of him. A little further he heard the soft whimpering of one of the girls and knew this was not going to end well for them. Even if he went along with Barret and gave into his lunacy, he doubted the Mad Earl would let anyone live. “Yes, Sir.” He answered.
“Then I will take you to be this army’s lieutenant,” Barret smirked, leaning into James’ face.
“This is not an army.” He answered back and stayed upright even after Barret slammed his fist into James' face. “We were here to guard your daughter during her travels.” James managed to say, trying to reason with Barret and hoping that reminding him of his family might cause a change in his demeanour. It did nothing.
“You are all spies.” Barret roared into his face and reached out and grabbed Margret by the hair. She cried out as Barret dragged her down the hall. Guards moved forward to stop the remaining Braykith members from trying to reach her as Barret dragged the young woman screaming away from them.
He threw her into a cell, locking the door behind her although there was no need. She fell to the straw covered ground and did not move. Her body shook gently with her tears, but Margret had surrendered to the hell they were being faced with. Barret did not seem to notice as he returned and grabbed the other woman, Gale, by the shoulder. When she pulled back against him, Adam grabbed her hand for support, but one of the Crimah guards slammed into her arm. The crack was clear as the bone broke under the weight. Barret did not stop, and the Crimah soldier did nothing to show he even realised what had happened.
Gale was dragged into a cell and locked behind the bars. Barret continued with all of the Braykith soldiers, collecting them one by one and dragging them carelessly down the hall and into the waiting cell. He came to Alexander. The man rising before Barret could reach him. The unknown Crimah soldier put his hand on Alexander’s shoulder, but he would not kneel.
“Looking for a fight?” Barret said, and seemed to be bouncing on his toes. The Earl was a vigorous and muscular man with many scars to prove he could fight his own battles and live to tell the tale. His nose had lost its straight ridge a long time ago when it had not healed correctly. None of this mattered to Alexander as he looked directly into the Earl’s eyes and did not flinch. The Crimah soldier kicked his knee, and the man fell, but he did not stay. Alexander rose again to meet Barret’s challenge. Barret laughed, looking around at those who shared the room with him as if he was amused by the whole interaction.
Under normal circumstances, James might have believed that Alexander had a chance in beating Barret, but there was a manic look on the other man’s face which scared James. He had been a witness to many things as a close guard to the Prince. He knew the secret curse that plagued the bloodline, but Barret surpassed that with a wild and uncontrolled look. The childish gleeful bounce in his toes was unnerving. “Just get in the cell, Alex,” James said softly even though there was no way for the message to be hidden in the echoing walls.
“You want to make an example of yourself Alex?” Barret said. He motioned for a guard to approach. Barret whispered something to him. James saw the man hesitate, and wondered for a moment if he would refuse his Earl, but the man moved off to collect the things Barret had asked for. Quickly a chair was produced and ropes. Alexander took a swing at the first man who reached for him, but Barret slammed his fist into Alexander’s face, and a swift kick to the groin as Alexander grabbed his broken nose made the man fall in a pained heap.
Alexander was propped up in the chair while James waited to be escorted away into his own cell but it never happened. He bore witness to Alexander’s hands being tied down and more rope around his waist to keep him sitting up in the chair. One of the Crimah men forced Alexander to open his mouth, and the other shoved rolled rags between his teeth and tightened them at the base of his skull.
Barret took the thick rope from the waiting soldier, tightening the knot in the middle it as he came behind Alexander. For a moment, everyone was silent and waiting to see what would come to pass. James saw the faces of his comrades pressed to their cell doors in an effort to see what was happening, and James still knelt close enough to feel Alexander’s breath hit his face.
“I was just going to tell you what I planned to do to your friends, James. One by one.” Barret tied the rope over Alexander’s face, the knotting sitting over his right eye. “But it seems I need to show you that I am to be taken seriously.”
James stood a little straighter as Barret tangled the rope lengths with some wood so he could tighten it better.
“We have nothing to tell you,” James said, but his words made no impact. “Braykith has no reason to spy on you, Earl Barret.”
Barret ignored him as he twisted the rope and the large knot pressed into Alexander’s eye. “I am going to start with the girls. I don’t think they will be brave enough to continue the charade.” It seemed to James that Barret couldn’t even hear him as he worked. Barret twisted the wooden stick again, and Alexander cried out around the stuffed fabric as the knot pressed more firmly on his eye. “You can confess now, and I will make the torture stop.”
“You will let us go?” James asked, wondering if this would be an unexpected turn around in Barret’s mood. Instead, he watched as Barret tightened the rope and the knot pressed into the softness of his eye until Alexander cried out while the gel of the damaged eyeball showed from around the knot. Barret did not stop but continued to tighten the ropes behind his head, Alexander’s long hair being pulled free of his scalp as Barret worked. James was sure that he meant to continue tightening them until Alexander’s face caved in under the pressure.
It did not seem so impossible, and James cried out for Barret to stop. To his relief Barret did. “I won’t let you go, James.” Barret looked down on James from where he stood behind Alexander who was whimpering into the rag that kept his cries from being heard. “I’ll make the deaths of your comrades quick. But you, and maybe Alex here, will remain alive until I learn every secret Braykith hopes to use against me.”
“There are no secrets,” James shouted at Barret, but the Earl did not believe him and even when he shoved Alexander into a cell and lead James to the cell beside him, there was no change in him. Barret stood on the other side of the bars looking in on James as he stood in the filth of whoever had sat here last. The dungeons were not well maintained, and James believed that Crimah did not take prisoners often. James did not find that comforting.
Delusions of Loyalty (The Braykith Series Book 2) Page 15
