Captive of Raven Castle

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Captive of Raven Castle Page 3

by Jessica Greyson


  “A few months?” Alexandra risked hesitantly.

  “A few years.”

  “That’s not true. The people are lazy; they do not work like they should. With the drought, everyone must work harder, and they have done nothing to help. Why last month we nearly ran out of mead at the castle because they were not doing their work.”

  “Was it that or the fact that your father threw a two-week celebration for his birthday?”

  Alexandra stepped back baffled. “We had enough mead for that.”

  “Of course you did. It took him almost two weeks to run the cellar dry. He wants to destroy this country because he wants to destroy your father. Don’t blame us for your mother’s death. Archibald was the one who killed her. It’s amazing he hasn’t killed you. The Imposter is a beast out to destroy anything that has hope. Your kingdom he will leave in tatters.”

  Alexandra’s jaw dropped, and she stepped back in horror. “You have to understand that my father would never do such a thing. The king loves the people; they just don’t understand him. He isn’t that kind of man. My father loves me and the people and my mother. He would never have murdered her or anyone else without due cause.”

  “We didn’t kill your mother.”

  “You and your wretched army of rebels killed my mother. She was protecting me from all of you, and someone thrust her through with a sword. My father was barely able to rescue me from certain death.”

  “So that is the story he has been telling you for the last thirteen years?”

  “It isn’t a story. It is the truth and to hear it talked about distresses me, I would appreciate it if you would stop.”

  “It distresses you?”

  “Yes,” she said calmly. “It does.”

  “You don’t look distressed to me.”

  “I am violently distressed about it. No one is allowed to speak of my mother’s death on the penalty of...”

  “Death. Doesn’t that give you a clue how desperately he is trying to hide the truth from you?”

  “No, it tells me that he is kind and considerate and thoughtful. He loves me. Now stop speaking this nonsense.”

  “And to the subjects who suffer death because they speak of the rebel king as a good man?”

  “He isn’t. Your king oppresses the people. That is why you, a rebel army are up here shouting justice for all—when you really mean oppression for all. Now go away.”

  “You aren’t distressed. Just confused.”

  “Go away!”

  “Very well, your highness,” he said with a cold bow. As he reached the door, he turned to face her once again. “We aren’t your father’s enemies. We fight for his cause. It is your uncle that we oppose.”

  The door closed firmly behind him. There was no anger in it. Just a tiny click.

  Alexandra rushed to the door and tried to make it open. He had locked it. She rattled the door, pushing and pulling.

  “It is no use, your highness. It is locked.”

  Alexandra kicked the door and immediately regretted it as her foot throbbed. She retreated, hopped across the room, buried her head under the pillows, and burst into tears.

  Raven Castle was filled with liars and thieves. How would she survive?

  Chapter 4

  Alexandra lay in bed long after her tears stopped. She stared blankly at the ceiling, sorting through her tumbled mixed-up feelings. Just this morning the worst thing that seemed possible was being betrothed to the second prince of Shalsburg. Now her fate was so much worse.

  Her whole body ached from her carriage and horse rides, her breathless running; and her wrist still burned from the leather cord he had pulled so tightly across it. Alexandra tried to sleep, but her eyes refused to close. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since just before she had dressed to meet the ambassador, and her stomach had been in such butterflies that she hadn’t eaten much then.

  Alexandra decided to explore her room in the light of the enchanting moon. A small dressing table was arranged with pretty things, not as fine as hers’ in the valley, but there was something about them that exuded charm instead of lavish wealth. Taking up the brush, she ran it through her tangled hair, pulling out the few interwoven pearls that had survived her raucous adventure.

  Still brushing her hair, Alexandra crossed the room to the window. The air that came through the arched window hole was cool and refreshing to her troubled mind. Resting one shoulder against the window, she gazed out on the valley covered in mist below her.

  The mist looked friendly in the moonlight, shining and soft as freshly washed lamb’s wool. Alexandra ran her fingers through her combed hair and smiled at the feeling of silk.

  Twisting a lock around one finger, the smile disappeared. Her father had always said she got her hair from her mother—black and shining as a raven’s wing.

  Raven.

  She shivered and turned away from the window. She walked the floor and opened the large pine chest for clothing. It was hard to heave up the heavy lid and more discouraging to find nothing in there for her to wear. Alexandra pulled back her hair, wishing she knew how to braid, and slipped into bed, forcing her eyes shut.

  Alexandra woke with a start. The dream had been so real. It was the one she always had when her mother was talked about. She had told the whole dream to Judith when she was nearly ten and had been told it was a foolish dream.

  But was it?

  Alexandra walked to the window and gazed down. It was a sheer cliff that dropped down to a glistening thread of a river that wove its way through the base of the mountains around them: tall, majestic, rocky, and green. She stared at them hard, trying to forget the dream and the queer feeling it always left with her.

  She was little, maybe three years of age—riding on a man’s shoulders, laughing. Her childish hands gripped in his brown curly hair. He was galloping around the garden. The woman that she knew was her mother by the portrait that hung in the gallery was laughing too. They came to a halt when a messenger came running through the door in a strange coat of arms.

  The man with brown curly hair pulled her feet closer together so he could hold them both in one big hand. She tried to wiggle her feet. Sitting still was boring. She bounced a little on his shoulders. He read the message, and, handing it back to the lad, he had gone over to her mother.

  Her face was always so sad. He bent and kissed her mother. Alexandra leaned forward and kissed the man’s head; she loved him. In a minute he was pulling her down from his shoulders, and she let out a squeal of dismay, kicking her little feet, but when she saw his eyes, she stopped and clung to his doublet. Something was wrong.

  She was caught in an embrace in which she could barely breathe between her mother and the man with the brown curly hair. He always whispered in her ear.

  “Goodbye, my Cassie,” he said, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and left.

  What did it all mean? The words she had exchanged with the young man Taleon whirled through her mind.

  “Your Highness, your highness? Are you all right?” asked a female voice from behind her.

  Alexandra whirled around.

  “Oh, hello?”

  “Are you all right? You seem far away.”

  “I am quite well, thank you. Just thinking.”

  “Here is a dress for you. The king hopes you will like it. It is nothing like what you wear at the castle, but it is the best the people have to offer.”

  “Thank you,” she said, approaching the woman.

  She laid the dress down on the bed.

  It was royal blue with white trim.

  “I’ll be making others for you, but this should last for a few days. Do you need help?”

  “I am afraid I do. I know so little about these things.”

  The woman’s hands were quick and skillful while Alexandra stood perfectly still.

  “There now, don’t you look like a pretty picture. The blue matches your eyes. Your father said it would. He picked it out before he left for the valley.”

&
nbsp; “How long have you been here?” asked Alexandra, her interest alerted.

  “Six months, ever since my husband died,” she said, her eyes dropping sorrowfully.

  “Did the rebels kill your husband?”

  The woman looked at her curiously. “Rebels? If you mean King Archibald’s ruthless men, yes. They are quite reckless. Their king gives them rein to do whatever they wish to the people, and they delight in doing it.”

  “What killed your husband?”

  “His tongue was loosened by strong drink. We were having a hard time. Our taxes were due the next day, we didn’t have enough money, and he went to drown his sorrows with a useless cup. While he was there, he got into a fight and spoke against the Imposter. He was slain instantly by Archibald’s soldiers. A neighbor was good enough to alert me as to what had happened. I escaped with my life and a few valuables before the soldiers came to burn our house and crops to the ground.”

  “My father would never allow such a thing.”

  “Yes, King Aric, if he ever graces the throne again, will set everything to rights.”

  “I meant King Archibald would never allow such a thing if he knew what was going on.”

  The woman looked at her with wrinkled brow. “Taleon said you had some queer ideas, but that is the queerest I have ever heard.”

  “I am not queer. If you had been able to pay your taxes and your husband had kept a civil tongue in his head, I am sure that everything would have been fine.”

  “We couldn’t pay our taxes.”

  “I am sure if you hadn’t been so lazy you could have.”

  “Lazy—you are calling my husband and I lazy?” The woman’s voice grew indignant. “We worked ourselves to the bone to make ends meet. We nearly starved trying to keep our farm, and you dare to call us lazy?”

  Alexandra looked at her, confused. The woman obviously expected an answer. But what was the question?

  The woman shook with emotion. “You call us lazy?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “That is not an answer,” the woman glowered.

  “I am sure if King Archibald had known of your situation he would...”

  She got no further as the woman attacked her with a cry of rage.

  Alexandra was lying on the floor curled into a ball, protecting herself from the woman’s blows.

  “Enid, Enid...get a hold of yourself,” said a familiar voice as Alexandra found herself free from the woman’s pounding fists.

  Alexandra dared to peek over her shoulder to see Taleon pulling a woman crying and spewing with rage from the room.

  The door closed behind them, and she listened to the cries slowly die down. Within minutes, he returned.

  “It’s okay to get off the floor now. She isn’t coming back.”

  “Are you quite sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Alexandra sat upright and found Taleon’s hand offered to her. Reluctantly she took it, and he pulled her to her feet.

  “What made her so mad at you?”

  “She told me that her husband was killed by my father, King Archibald’s army. I said that she and her husband were lazy because they couldn’t pay their taxes,” admitted Alexandra, with slight hesitation as to his reaction.

  “So you didn’t learn anything from what I said last night.”

  “What is there to learn? It’s all lies.”

  Taleon’s eyes narrowed, and Alexandra felt guilty, though for what reason she wasn’t quite sure.

  “The man whom you claim as your father is a robber and a thief.”

  “My father is nothing of the sort.”

  “Your father isn’t, but the man whom you claim to be is.”

  “You are speaking in circles. Stop it. I don’t want to hear anymore,” she said, turning away.

  “You are going to hear it whether you like it or not,” he said, turning her around to face him.

  Their eyes met, challenging one another. Alexandra conceded by looking to the side. It wasn’t ladylike to look so boldly into a fellow’s eyes even if you didn’t agree with him.

  

  “Let’s begin with what you know,” he said, dropping his hold.

  “What I know?”

  “What has,” Taleon cleared his throat, “King Archibald told you?” It was hard to refrain from adding “the impostor,” but apparently that wouldn’t break through to her.

  “Everything I need to know about you.”

  “And that would be?”

  “You are rebels that cause trouble, splitting my nation in half, causing my people to be discontent with what they have. There is a drought going on, and more people are abandoning their fields to join your cause. They need to be in the fields, and here you have them screaming for justice when we are doing all we can for them.”

  “You really think you are doing all you can for your people?

  “I am willing to marry a man I don’t love for them.”

  “And that’s a sacrifice for them?”

  “Yes, it is. If I don’t have an heir and I die, the country will go to ruin.”

  “You are dying?”

  “Not yet, but I will. There is no doubt about it. I have never been strong.”

  “Well, marrying a foreigner will do your country no good.”

  “Why not? It will bring a good alliance.”

  “The prince of Shalsburg knows nothing about you or Chambria and couldn’t care less about your people. He would be nothing but a puppet in your...the...king’s hands just like you are. He wouldn’t care a bit but carry on the same way he does.”

  “I am not a puppet!”

  “Really? Then tell me one original thought that you have had—one that hasn’t been influenced by your father’s teaching. Tell me, what have you thought about Raven Castle that hasn’t been told to you by him? What observation have you made that doesn’t even have a hint of his thoughts in yours?”

  

  Alexandra’s brow wrinkled. Everything she had thought had a hint of something he had said. The people were lazy because he said so. Raven Castle was full of rebels because that was all she had ever been told; her mother had been slain by the rebels. Up here...things were so different. He was daring to challenge so many of the things she had always believed.

  “You can’t think of anything, can you?” said Taleon after a long silence.

  “I am not a puppet,” she reiterated weakly.

  “Puppets only do what their masters think, say, and do. So far that is all you have done up here. What are some of your own ideas?”

  Alexandra stood there puzzled, trying to think of something to say, but her thoughts only...there were no thoughts. Her mind went blank—utterly and wholly empty.

  “I don’t know if I have any,” Alexandra said, dropping the defensive tone she had been using.

  Taleon smiled. “Do you have any original thoughts?”

  Alexandra smiled as a thought crossed her mind.

  “What is it?”

  “Yesterday, I was wondering if the second Prince of Shalsburg would have the same funny accent as the ambassador.”

  “You consider that an original thought?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Original as they come,” she said with a sheepish smile.

  “I see. Well, Willamsen didn’t tell us you hadn’t had anything to eat until after you were asleep. I am guessing you are hungry.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’ll be bringing up a tray of food in a few minutes.”

  When Taleon returned, Alexandra had combed out her hair and was attempting to style it in some fashion with no success.

  “Do you know how to braid?”

  “No.”

  “Well, if you promise to keep quiet so everyone won’t hate and attack you on sight, I will have a little girl come and show you how it’s done. All of the women are already working.”

  “You make the people work?”

  “No, they choose to help. When they are able, they
are assigned a specific task. Now here is your breakfast.”

  “That isn’t fit for swine. I am a princess; I don’t eat gruel!”

  “You said you weren’t strong, so I brought what we feed those who aren’t well. It’s easier on them and gives them strength.”

  “I am not bedridden. I refuse to eat it.”

  “It is sweetened with honey.”

  “I won’t eat it! It’s pauper food.”

  “I’ll be back in half an hour,” he said, closing the door.

  “You can’t just walk away. Don’t close that door; I am not done speaking with you yet. Come back here!”

  The door shut and the lock clicked.

  “No!” she cried out, but Taleon’s feet were already retreating down the hallway. Alexandra tried the door. It wouldn’t budge.

  Reluctantly she went back to her dressing table and stared at the gruel with crossed arms. The smell was surprisingly tempting. Delicately she took the spoon and stirred the “swine food.” It wasn’t lumpy or thick. Her stomach growled, pleading with her to just try it.

  It can’t hurt me just to take a bite, I suppose.

  It was surprisingly sweet and tasty. Alexandra had eaten half the bowl before she knew it, but could eat no more; it was too filling.

  Raven Castle is certainly a strange place.

  Chapter 5

  Within a half an hour, Taleon returned with a shy little girl who, upon his opening of the door and stepping in, attached herself to his belt, burying her face in his back. He walked forward without seeming to notice.

  He smiled at the nearly empty bowl but said nothing.

  “I would like you to meet...” he looked on either side of himself then turned around. “Hmm...I wonder where she went. I could have sworn Amy was with me.”

  There was a muffled laugh from behind him, and he whirled around again.

  “Amy? Amy...where are you? I heard you.”

  She giggled again.

  “You must be hiding somewhere in here already,” and he walked further into the room.

 

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