Pausing briefly at one stall, Elysia looked at the various ornaments and pieces of jewellery the man was selling. While nothing of quality, Elysia thought they actually looked quite nice, and perhaps had she thought to bring any money with her she might have liked to have made a few purchases. With a slight chill in the morning air, Elysia pulled her cloak tightly around her and moved along to the next stall, but seeing as it was only selling vegetables she continued on. Moving along with a flow of other people, she caught the sound of somebody talking, and something she found very interesting. Two men behind her were having a discussion, which of course may have only been gossip, but it was something Elysia focused on.
Trying to cut out all the other noise was difficult, and while she tried to remain close to the two having the conversation, it wasn't always easy to do so without looking somewhat suspicious. However, Elysia managed to get the general gist of their topic and found herself shocked at what she heard. Apparently, the major nobles were amassing an army to attack the capital. Knowing this might only be gossip and hearsay, Elysia knew she needed to find out more. Ambling along with the crowds of shoppers and browsers, Elysia listened out for more but got little of any interest. Apart from hearing some woman talking about her husband's sores on his leg, and another discussing the fact she had been sleeping with her neighbour’s husband, there was nothing of note, despite the last one being quite interesting to listen to.
Moving to another part of the market, Elysia found herself standing beside a group of men unloading a wagon. Evidently, a trader that had travelled some distance to set up his stall, he had arrived a little later than some of the local sellers.
“Heard that Lord Romley is ready to march,” One said.
“I heard the boy prince is leading the army,” said another.
“Well, whoever it is, they’ll be knocking on the door of the palace within a week, and that Lord Elthan will be out on his ear.”
“Aye…and that half-wit son of his and that strumpet who is claiming to be queen!”
Elysia turned quickly away, feeling her body shaking at the words she had just heard. While being very aware that she was the one being referred to as the ‘strumpet,’ the fact they had mentioned the boy prince had her mind in a spin.
“Luca!” she muttered under her breath. If he was alive, then everything now seemed to fit into place. Luca was next in line to the throne, and if that was the case, it was little wonder the nobles of Arandor were amassing an army to remove her.
Knowing she needed to confirm this vital piece of news, Elysia wandered aimlessly around the market trying to decide how best to do it. With no other option but to actually converse with one of the common folk, Elysia strolled over to one of the other stalls, one that she hadn’t been to yet. After pretending to look at the ceramic pots and metal pans the woman was selling, Elysia took a deep breath and tried to start a conversation.
Doing her best to put on a fake-sounding voice, Elysia was unsure how convincing it was as the woman initially looked at her somewhat menacingly.
“Can do you a deal on the pots if you buy more than one!” the trader eventually said.
Elysia made out that she was interested if only to keep the woman talking, “I’ll have to check the other trader to see how much he’s selling for,” she said.
“Bah… you must be talking of old Tottersly’s trash. Don’t buy his stuff love, it’ll fall apart within a week. Besides, I bet you won’t see him around much more, at least not once that bloody Lord Elthan’s lot are out of the palace. Tottersly and the rest of these Endellan traders won't be tolerated around these parts then.”
Inadvertently the woman had moved onto the exact topic of conversation Elysia wished her to and thought to capitalise while she had the chance.
“I heard this morning that the prince is leading an army to take the throne,” Elysia said trying to keep her voice sounding as if she belonged in these parts of the capital.
The woman chuckled, “I’d doubt they’d risk him leading the army. But from what I hear the northern lords of Brenthellin are backing him now. So I guess it’s only a matter of time. I heard all the major nobles are amassing their armies.”
Elysia didn’t want any pots or pans, but the woman was clearly confirming what she had heard just a little earlier. If Luca and Imogen were still alive as she now believed, what were Frederick and his father doing in the palace? Was it true that she had inadvertently played some part in all this mess? So many questions, and each time Elysia thought she had found an answer to one, several more arose. Despite the trader seemingly being somewhat annoyed at her merely turning and around and walking off, Elysia headed back across the market square. Keeping her head down she now needed to figure out what to do.
As she made her way back into the palace, she was stopped by the guards on the gate, albeit only briefly as it seemed the man in front of her needed to be searched. While Elysia didn’t want to reveal her identity, she knew it might be her only option if the soldiers on duty wanted to do likewise to her. Thankfully, the two guards waved her straight through after the man in front had been allowed to continue. Knowing she needed to get back to the royal suite without being noticed and get there before Frederick decided to remake an appearance, Elysia hurried with a new purpose.
As several ideas of what to do ran through her somewhat confused mind, Elysia re-entered the main palace building through the same side door, before heading up the steps to the room where she had found the staff uniforms. Knowing that she may need to use them again, she quickly removed them and placed them back as she had found them, before putting her dress back on. As exhilarating as it was to feel, smell and hear the atmosphere of the market, to put her finer clothes back on made her feel much better. Thinking she would probably need to bathe to rid her of the smells, and probably soak for a good while to do so, she headed back down the corridor to her suite.
Hurrying through the door, Elysia had narrowed her options down to just two. Either she stood firm and ordered Frederick to tell her what was going on, and insist that he and his father leave the palace, or else she packed a few things and fled. As much as Elysia wanted to believe as a royal princess, Frederick would do as she asked, there was a niggling doubt that wasn't going to be the case. Which left her with only one feasible option, although not the one she wanted to take. Quite how she would manage to get her belongings, even a few of them, into a carriage and escape the city without alerting anyone she was unsure. However, with that plan now firmly fixed in her mind, she headed for her bedroom to sort out a few outfits for her travels.
Elysia was startled as the door to her room was shoved open with some force, and Frederick hurried in. From his appearance and the way he was breathing, it would appear he had been running.
“There you are,” he said between breaths.
“Where have you been? I came back about an hour ago to find you gone, and I’ve been looking for you ever since. Father is fuming at us…I am supposed to be in a meeting with him.”
Knowing she could not tell Frederick where she had really been, Elysia put on a sad-looking face, hoping to appeal to his softer side.
“I just went for a little walk around the palace. Roamed a few corridors and ventured out in the gardens for a little while."
“I looked in the gardens…I didn’t see you,” Frederick replied, “But I suppose we could have missed each other.”
“I’d forgotten how beautiful they are, couped up in here all the time,” Elysia replied, running her hand across Frederick’s face seductively. While she hoped the action would placate him, she also hoped it did not give him any idea’s or urges to want more. Thankfully, it was very apparent the man was petrified of his father and the thought of keeping him waiting did not warrant him being there any longer than needed.
“Please, do not go out again… At least not without me…Okay?”
“Can I not even wander the gardens in my own home?”
“I told you, my Love, these are
dangerous times, and therefore you shouldn’t go out…at least not without me.”
“As you wish,” Elysia eventually replied, knowing it was the answer that Frederick was waiting for before he left to go running back to his father.
Chapter 20.Ready to go.
Luca sat in the dining room alone having finished his breakfast, while Edward was in the kitchen helping Samuel and Nerina clear the table. Luca’s mind was still in a bit of a whirl as he had experienced the same dream three times now. Coincidence, or Nerina casting some kind of spell upon him through the necklace he still wore around his neck? As much as he thought he should ask Edward to remove it, each and every time the opportunity arose for him to ask, he thought better of it. Was this in itself some form of witch’s spell on him. After all, Nerina had already told him he couldn’t remove it, so perhaps it was that magic that was stopping him from asking. Yet even though he thought it might be some underhand way of influencing his dreams, the memory and thought of kissing Nerina, if only in his sleep, was in its own way far more captivating than any magic.
Today they were to head back towards Whitmore, away from the Brenthellin border, and to where Lord Romley had deemed it safest. Apparently, there were now thousands of soldiers already crossing the lands of the major nobles, being added to by the lesser nobles of Brenthellin, all heading towards the capital, Miranor. If Lord Elthan were going to make a move or make a stand, they would find out within the next day or so, as the forces loyal to Luca slowly enclosed around him. While it was possible for the Endallen noble to seal off the city and make a stand, it was doubted that he had enough men to keep the walls defended and maintain his rule within the capital.
Being a somewhat overcast and cloudy day, Luca was beginning to think they had all made the wrong choice in opting for horses as opposed to riding in the carriage as they had done on their way to Greensill. However, being as Nerina and Samuel had all but insisted on them, backed up by Edward, Luca had been left with little choice but to do likewise. As it was, the four of them had been given suitable horses, and while they were all competent riders, Luca knew a long day in the saddle would likely be a painful and sore one. With everyone seemingly ready, the man in charge trotted over to check Luca was ready to move out. Luca was about to say yes when a messenger came running over, and although initially stopped from getting too close, seemed happy enough to pass the note to one of Luca’s guards.
“Who is it from?” Nerina asked the moment the note was handed over to Luca.
“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet,” Luca replied, feeling somewhat annoyed by the question.
“Well, look at the seal! You should know better than anyone whose it is.”
Luca just ignored the remark and turned the folded note over to look at the red wax seal, and afforded a smile as he recognised it. Perhaps all the hours spent learning the marks and colours of all the houses had not been a complete waste of his childhood after all.
Recognising the impression on the wax as a fox, and knowing it belonged to the house of Lord Felton, Luca could assume it was from Jack. While he did think about withholding this information from Nerina, he knew she wouldn’t leave him in peace until he told her.
“It’s from Jack…Lord Felton,” he eventually said.
“What does he want?” Nerina asked not even giving Luca time to read the note.
“What do you care?” Edward added, moving his horse in a little closer. “You said you didn’t like him.”
“I said I didn’t trust him, not that I didn’t like him!” Nerina replied with no small amount of attitude to her voice.
Edward just shrugged, “Either way, you still didn’t like him…Jealous perhaps,” Edward mumbled turning his horse slightly away happy to leave it at that.
“I was not jealous…Ridiculous!” Nerina snapped. “I don’t want to know what’s on the note anyway!” She added in a huff before moving her horse away in the opposite direction.
Luca glanced left then right and sighed. If this was how things were going to be on their trip back, then it wasn’t going to be a pleasant one. However, intrigued as to what it was that Jack wanted, Luca broke the seal on the paper and unfolded the note. Written in a neat hand, but one that looked as if it had been hurried slightly, Luca read through the note twice, before folding it back up and slipping it inside his tunic. With a smile on his face, he gave the signal to the soldier in charge that he was ready and the group slowly trotted their way down the main street towards the town gates.
Although the town was quite busy, nobody seemed to pay them much attention as they effectively ploughed their way through the early morning shoppers and traders, not moving aside for anyone or anything. It was then that Luca spotted Bertram standing in a doorway waving his hand. He was about to lift his own hand in response when he realised the man’s focus was not on him but somebody behind. Luca turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder and could see Nerina waving and smiling. While that in itself was unusual, the fact it was to somebody she had supposedly only met once, and only then very briefly, seemed even odder. With the feeling he had missed something, Luca thought to inquire but decided to leave it for later, especially as the mood between them was not exactly good at the moment.
The note from Jack was basically just a thank you for the invite to dinner and was an offer for Luca to join him for the same whenever he was next in the area of Sheperton. Although not usually a sociable person, Luca thought it was something he might like to do, if and when he was ever allowed to go where he wanted. With the feeling that his small circle of friends was growing, albeit slowly, Luca felt a warm feeling inside as they left the town of Greensill and headed back toward Whitmore. Though a journey that would take all day, Luca thought that perhaps the future might not be quite so bleak as he had first thought.
Luca didn’t need to be a military genius to know that the hundreds of soldiers gathered around the outskirts of Greensill were heading off to war. As to whether Lord Elthan thought he might have some way to withstand against the far superior numbers being sent his way, Luca had no idea. However, he hoped the man had some morals about him and left the city intact and without inflicting any further misery upon the folk that resided there. As to how things would pan out after that, Luca had no idea, but he guessed he would be expected to invade Endallen whatever the result of the impending move on the capital.
“I almost wish I was going with them!” Edward commented as he watched another thirty or so riders pass them by.
“Why?” Luca asked, thinking it an odd thing to say. Why would anyone want to go and fight and risk dying?
“Because, they are fighting for something worth fighting for,” Edward replied.
Luca kind of knew what Edward was getting at, but felt the need to ask anyway. “And you think I’m worth dying for, do you? I doubt many of those men have a clue who I am.”
“It’s not just who you are, it’s what you are and what you represent!”
“And what’s that? I’m not even sure myself,” Luca replied, suddenly feeling his mood heading on a downward spiral.
“For good. You’re not a bad person Luca. Lord Elthan is. It really is quite simple!” Edward explained, shaking his head almost in disbelief that he had to clarify things.
“Oh just ignore him, Edward. He’s just showing his moody, temperamental side again!” Nerina added sounding somewhat snidey in her tone.
Luca just took a large intake of breath and exhaled loudly. It wasn’t worth arguing or saying anything in reply, so he just lowered his head and nudged his horse just a few paces forward of his three travelling companions. He reached up to where the necklace still hung around his neck and made a decision that he would ask Edward to remove it later, and this time he wasn't going to change his mind.
Lord Romley and his men were first to cross over into Brenthellin lands. Safe in the knowledge that the other major nobles would also be doing the same, on a scale unheard of in centuries, he felt a certain pride in w
hat he was doing. Having been unable to stop Lord Elthan taking the throne from his good friend, he was determined to ensure that the rightful heir was seated upon it. Already having some of the lesser Brenthellin nobles amalgamate their smaller retinues in with his own, he knew his numbers would swell still further the more distance they travelled.
In Miranor, Lord Elthan was listening to the latest reports from his scouts, none of which gave anything but bad news. Apparently, word was spreading that a witch had been captured and killed just over the border in The Northern Marches. Although not confirmed, Lord Elthan knew exactly who that was, and more surprisingly, that it was actually true. He wasn't certain as to why, but a few days ago he had felt a pain in his chest as if something sharp had pierced right through it. At first, he feared something wrong with his body, but the image of Loretta appeared in his mind, her face filled with anguish. It was as if he were there, sharing her pain as the blade of a sword pierced right through her. Thinking it just a weird kind of thought, there had been this niggling in the back of his mind that his sister had died. With these rumours now coming, it would seem that there was now some confirmation that this was actually true.
Furthermore, the Brenthellin nobles had rallied to the cause of the young prince, who apparently had been there in person. Lord Elthan knew that his sister had probably heard that was going to be the case, and headed there to intervene, but alas she had failed. Strangely, Lord Elthan felt little pain at the loss of his sister, despite all she had done for him of late. The death of a witch was not the only bad news he received, and it was now accepted that the Brenthellin nobles were supporting the boy and already hundreds, possibly thousands of soldiers were heading his way from all directions. The question now, was whether he decided to close the city and make a fight of it here, or try and escape back to his homeland and hope that the nobles did not have the stomach for a prolonged attack into his lands.
Heir to the Throne Page 18