Midway through the lashing, Tomas Cramden had entered the tower room.
“You seem to have done a thorough job, cousin,” he said. The east tower was isolated and Cramden had no idea that fighting had broken out below.
“They are tougher than they appear, my Tomas, but eventually they will tell us why they are here. Have you dismissed the petitioners for the day?”
“I have done so. The castle is secure. But in the streets the people are beginning to talk. Crowds are massing. The gossip is that the princess has returned and with her, a twin. There is much confusion, Morgaine, and the people don’t like your men all over the keep in such force.”
“Don’t worry, Cousin Tomas. Soon we will have our answers, the king will die, and you will be regent. You will install me as your most trusted advisor and my men will replace the king’s guard and the constabulary in Kingsgate. And remember, I will have an army of Ieryn at my beck and call. Westvale will be ours.”
Juliet froze as she heard this chilling admission of treachery. The Ieryn in Westvale. Their old enemy at the gates, as these two had planned? What would become of her and Scarlett? What would become of her people?
Chapter Twenty-One
Roland and Sir Brenden approached the king’s chambers. They were met by a contingent of red-liveried men-at-arms in a large anteroom.
“Stand aside,” said Sir Brenden. “We are here to deliver medicine to the king.”
“No one enters the king’s chamber except his physicians,” said the captain of the troop. “Those are our orders.”
“Given by whom?”
“By Lady Morgaine.”
“She has no authority here. I command you in the king’s name to stand aside.”
“You’ll have to go through us to get to the king. We follow only the countess’s orders.”
“That won’t be a problem,” said a determined Roland, drawing his sword.
Weapons clashed. The ringing sounds of blades clashing created a cacophonous din. Roland made straight for the leader. He proved to be no match for a knight who had fought beside Richard against the fierce Boschii. Roland parried a thrust, then slashed sideways, the blade finding the man’s neck. He dropped like a stone. Seeing no one else in front of him, Roland kicked open the door and rushed into the king’s chamber.
The king lay on his back, head propped up on pillows. His face was gray, the color having been leeched out by the slow-acting poison. His eyes fluttered and he tried to sit up, but Roland could see it was a struggle.
“I hear fighting,” he said in a weak voice. “Who are you?”
Roland drew the vial from a pouch. “I am Sir Roland Ferris of Durham, sent here by Richard of Angleterre. You are suffering from an insidious poison, sire. With the help of your daughter and some friends, we have procured an antidote.”
“My daughter? Where is she?” The king perked up with the mention of his daughter.
“She was abducted by Morgaine, but she is here now. You have been the victim of a plot concocted by your high minister. He meant to poison you and marry the princess, but we have stopped him.”
“Cramden?” The king tried to process what he was hearing.
“Yes, in collusion with Morgaine of Bathen.”
“Morgaine,” said the king and a look of understanding passed across his features.
The knight lifted the king’s head with a hand to the back of his neck. “Drink this. You must take all of it.” Roland placed the vial against the king’s lips and he drank. Once he had drained the vial, Roland eased his head back on the pillow. The king closed his eyes and for several moments Roland wondered if he had not passed. Then color began to return to his face. His eyelids fluttered open, this time with considerably more brightness than before. He sat up and looked around.
“I feel like I’ve awakened from a dream,” he said. He examined his limbs. “I couldn’t move my arms before. I was so tired.” He started to get out of bed.
Roland moved to his side so as to assist him. With the knight’s help he rose on unsteady legs. “Go easy, your majesty. You have been bedridden for weeks.”
“I feel my strength returning, sir knight. What was the fighting I heard?”
“Morgaine brought her men into the castle with the permission of Lord Cramden. They dismissed your personal guard and took over. We had to fight our way through them to get to you and give you the antidote.” As he spoke, Roland noticed that all was quiet now. The fight had ended.
“So, do they hold the castle now?”
“Possibly,” said Roland. “I would guess that, in any event they have your daughter.” And my Scarlett, thought Roland. That had been the risk, that in creating the necessary diversion, Scarlett and Juliet would be seized. But where would they be held captive? One obvious location would be the cells below, where he had found Scarlett before their escape. The cells were out of sight, out of hearing. He would check there. However, the castle was a huge fortress, a keep meant to house the citizens of Kingsgate in the event of attack. It would take forever to search it.
“We must find her at once,” said the king. Already some strength had returned to his limbs, and he had started to dress himself. While the king prepared, Roland looked outside. Bodies lay haphazardly in the antechamber. Most were still, but some writhed on the floor, still alive but obviously in pain. Sir Brenden and his men stood in the middle of the room, swords in hand, surveying the aftermath of the fight.
“Sir Brenden, where are Morgaine’s quarters?” It had occurred to Roland that Morgaine would have commandeered the most luxurious and most secure area in the keep for her personal space. Next to the dungeons, this was the next most likely place for the countess to keep her prey.
“She moved into the entire east tower,” said Sir Brenden. He turned his head as the king emerged from his chamber, fully dressed now and armed. “Your majesty,” he said, bowing.
“Sir Brenden, we must find my daughter. Do you know where she is?”
“Sire, if Morgaine has her, it would be in the east tower. It is the most defendable part of the keep, as you know. She installed herself there with Lord Cramden’s permission.” He confirmed Roland’s thought. Morgaine would seek safety above all else.
The king shook his head. “Cramden. Why? My trusted advisor. Why did he do it?” He was both sad and genuinely puzzled.
“We don’t know, sire,” said Sir Brenden. “But it appeared as though he wanted to have himself declared regent, and from all appearances he coveted your daughter.”
“He did indeed,” said Roland. “But for the last several weeks he has lusted for an imposter placed there by Lady Morgaine.”
“An imposter?” said an incredulous Sir Brenden. The king’s face also registered shock.
“She could be a twin, given the similarity in appearance, but she is a commoner, a village orphan inserted by Cramden while the real Princess Juliet was a captive of Morgaine. Both of them are here now, and together they have created the diversion that enabled us to find you. But now, I fear they are both in Morgaine’s hands.”
“Are there others with you?” asked King Robert.
“Yes, sire. Rand LaFlors and some of his men are, at this very moment, headed for an escape passage described by your daughter. They will open it to permit reinforcements from Kingsgate to join us. Rand has many friends in Kingsgate.”
“Yes,” said the king. “He would, at that.”
Roland did not know how to interpret such a statement. Clearly though, Rand LaFlors was no common outlaw.
“Rand LaFlors,” said Robert, nodding to himself. “A most complex man, but he has, in his own way, always been an ally. And there is more to Rand LaFlors than you know.”
The king buckled his sword belt and strode forward. “Let us go. To the east tower.”
King Robert’s sudden appearance startled everyone who encountered him as he, Roland, Sir Brenden, and their men strode purposefully toward the east wing of the keep. He brushed aside questions from cou
rtiers, friends, and strangers alike as the determined company made its way to the winding staircase that ascended the tower. Red-liveried men who saw them coming turned and ran the other way, scurrying down corridors in the levels below Morgaine’s quarters. The king and his entourage ascended the stairs and finally arrived at an anteroom, the entrance to what had, at one time, been a guard room for the tower and its interrogation room. Men-at-arms stood at attention barring the door to the inner chamber. They were joined by one who seemed to be their leader.
“We are to admit no one,” said the captain of Morgaine’s guard.
“Do you know who I am?” thundered Robert.
“I do not, sir. We are the personal guard of the Countess Morgaine. She is occupied within. No one may pass.” To emphasize his determination, he drew his sword.
“You will stand aside this moment or die,” said King Robert. “I am Robert Greystone, king of Westvale and lord of this keep.” Roland and Sir Brenden fanned out on either side, ready to do battle.
The captain looked uncertain for a moment. Confronted by the apparent ruler of this land and their host, he hesitated. Roland did not. He knew Scarlett was behind that door. Without waiting he brushed the man aside and kicked in the door while Sir Brenden’s men engaged those of Morgaine’s contingent who were foolish enough to fight.
Morgaine heard the sound of boots and angry voices outside the tower’s chamber. She whirled around, startled, as Roland burst through the door, sword drawn. He was followed by the king and Sir Brenden. Tomas Cramden stared at the king in disbelief, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
Roland’s eyes took in the scene at once. Juliet and Scarlett, their naked bodies striped with weals, were bound to flogging frames. Morgaine stood with a whip in her hand, obviously the one she had used on the girls. She, too, stared in disbelief at Roland and the king. Female attendants stood along the walls, cowering now that men with weapons had come bursting in. As for Cramden, he stood frozen to the spot, his face ashen as he beheld the king he had betrayed.
Morgaine was first to act. She dropped the whip and, drawing a dagger, moved to the front of one of the frames.
“I don’t know which one is your daughter, but unless you withdraw your men and give me safe passage, this dagger goes into this girl’s throat.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Then the other bound girl said, “I am your daughter, father. I can prove it.”
Morgaine’s face registered uncertainty. Did she have the commoner under her knife? Her eyes flicked from one to the other.
Roland’s eyes never left Morgaine’s face. His hand slowly crept to the short knife on his belt. He inched forward as he observed an increasingly agitated countess and her impending loss of control. He had to act, and soon.
Uncertain now, she withdrew the dagger and shifted her weight, perhaps to point the dagger’s tip at the other of the two. In that brief instant, Roland moved. He covered the distance to Morgaine in a blur, his hand coming up with his own blade. Morgaine reacted out of instinct and lunged at Roland with the dagger. Her forward rush impaled her on Roland’s knife. It entered Morgaine’s belly just below her ribcage. She gasped and looked down at the instrument of her death. Then her eyes clouded over and she fell to the floor.
Meanwhile at King Robert’s command, Sir Brenden had taken Lord Cramden prisoner.
“Unbind them and get them some clothes,” said King Robert. Roland freed Scarlett. Then he loosened the bands securing Juliet. Sir Brenden’s men found cloaks and covered their nakedness. From below in the great hall came the sounds of fighting.
“It sounds like we still have work to do,” said King Robert. “I will return, daughter.” But his confusion was apparent as he was unsure which one of the girls before him was actually Juliet. A look of consternation still on his face, he ordered several of Sir Brenden’s men to stay as guards and turned to go.
Scarlett hugged Roland and buried her face in his chest.
“Are you hurt?” he said.
“She whipped us hard, trying to get us to tell her which of us was the real princess, but we wouldn’t tell. You don’t know how glad we are to see you.”
Roland stroked her hair and kissed her. “It’s all right now. From the sound of it, Rand and his men have engaged the traitors.”
The king and Sir Brenden had left, heading toward the sounds of the conflict.
“I have to go. The king needs me. I’ll be back,” he reassured her and turned to follow.
* * *
Below, the battle for Greystone Castle raged. Nearly a hundred men had come through the tunnel with Vargus Shiv, and they had attacked Morgaine’s men wherever they found them, slowly making their way to the great hall. At first they had also been challenged by the castle guard, but word spread quickly that they fought for the princess and King Robert against Morgaine. The castle guard, now realizing that Morgaine’s men were the real enemy, rushed to Rand’s aid.
King Robert descended the stairs into the great hall. He watched the fray for a moment until several of the men noticed him. So did Morgaine’s men. They backed up, looking for an avenue of retreat. He shouted out in a loud voice:
“Put down your weapons. Your mistress is dead. Surrender now and you will not be charged as traitors.”
The fighting stopped. One by one, the crimson-liveried men of the woman who had been the red countess laid down their arms.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hours later in the great hall, Juliet and Scarlett stood before King Robert.
“It’s amazing,” said the king. “I truly don’t know which of you is my daughter.” He looked from one to other, trying to figure out which one was the princess.
Scarlett started to speak. She was going to say that the real princess stood to her right when a voice rang out from the back of the hall.
“They both are your daughters, your majesty,” said the voice.
All heads turned. The princess’s elderly attendant, her old nursemaid, Frida, had spoken. She came forward. With her was another older woman. Frida introduced her as Theda. Juliet gasped, recognizing the peasant whose home she had invaded in Darkwood Forest.
Frida continued. “At first I wasn’t sure, but now I am, thanks to Theda.”
“Dame Frida, you will explain yourself.” King Robert’s expression was one of total confusion.
“The day Queen Grace gave birth to Princess Juliet was a terrible day as you recall, m’lord.”
“Aye.” Robert recalled it well. Grace, with child and near her time, had been with him. They had been on the run, retreating with a remnant of his army, driven from the fortress at High Rocks by an Ieryn force. On top of that, it had started to storm. Thunder boomed, lightning lit up the skies, and rain fell in torrents. And Graciela had announced her time. A shelter had been hastily prepared and a midwife from a nearby village had been sent for. He had waited in the rain while his Grace had labored.
Theda spoke. “On that day, I was engaged as a midwife to deliver a child, your majesty. It was your queen who was in labor. Your wife’s delivery was arduous as you know.”
Robert nodded. It had been hours of labor under hellish conditions.
“When the baby came, there was not one but two. But one appeared to be stillborn. She wasn’t breathing. Your wife was devastated. She made me swear that I’d never tell. She did not want you to know she’d lost a child. I gave the body to a young maid who had come to assist me, and I told her to bury the child’s body in the forest. She left to do as she was told. The young woman, I later learned, was barren. She and her husband could not conceive. But after that I also found out that she had a child. When I confronted her, and got a look at the little girl, she admitted that the child, your child, had not been dead after all. But she and her husband had decided to keep the little one as their own and never share their secret with anyone. I am sorry, sire, but I was not certain of the child’s parentage, and I did not know what I should do. How could a woman like me hope to convince a royal
family of the truth of such a tale? So all these years I have kept silent.
“Later our village was attacked by coastal raiders and I fled into Darkwood Forest. One day I found that same little girl wandering in the forest and I realized that the woman and her husband had likely been killed by the raiders. But I was too ill to take care of her myself, so I took her to the sisters of St. Agnes.
“Then came the day not long ago when Princess Juliet broke into my hut. When I saw her I began to suspect who she was, for she looked exactly like the girl I knew as Scarlett, the one I had given to the sisters to raise, and who I saw for years after that in the forest and in the village.”
Robert listened to the story in stunned silence. “Is this true? Could this possibly be true?”
“She is your daughter, King Robert,” said Frida.
Scarlett had been listening, too, and she turned and looked at Juliet. Her sister? And King Robert, her father? It couldn’t be, she decided.
“I… I am just a commoner, your majesty. This is Princess Juliet,” she said, gesturing with her hand. “It is true. I was raised by the sisters of St. Agnes, but of my parents I know little.”
“There is a way to know for sure,” said Theda. “I am just an old woman and my memory fades from time to time, but I remember that night. And one thing I remember is that the baby we thought stillborn had a birthmark on the inside of her left thigh. I remember that.”
“I suggest, sire, that we examine this girl,” said Frida. “We will tell you what we find.” Scarlett cast a long look over her shoulder at Roland as she followed Dame Frida. Did she dare hope? What she saw on her lover’s face was a confident smile.
* * *
Sir Roland watched them leave to conduct the examination. He smiled to himself. He knew. For he had seen that birthmark. And had kissed it. He had thought it just as lovely as the rest of her. It was an activity he hoped to repeat many times in the future. He shook his head, chuckling, amazed at the turn of events. It was ironic. Richard had suggested that upon his arrival at Greystone Castle he would meet a royal princess. He didn’t know how right he had been.
The Princess and the Rogue Page 13
