The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy

by Charissa Dufour

  Pelor pushed all his focus away from her face and onto the pressure in his trousers. “More than anything.”

  “Then I’ll just have to convince Father to let me marry you.”

  The knight kept his lips from coming up into a grin. She was falling right into his snare.

  “You want to marry me?” he asked, coloring his voice with excitement.

  She smiled. “Very much so.”

  “When will you talk to your father?”

  “Oh. I think I’ll have to wait a bit. Leave some hints for him. Let him adjust to the idea first.”

  Pelor nodded. Had she been too enthusiastic he would have had to give her the exact same caution. He smiled again, placed her hand into the crook of his arm, and guided her back down the battlements. He noticed the smirks of the guards as they past, but ignored them. Laugh all they want, he was going to marry into the most powerful royal family the peninsula had ever seen.

  They arrived back in the great hall mere moments before Wolfric stormed in, coming from the direction of his office.

  “That little bastard!” he roared at the top of his lungs.

  The king expelled a list of epithets all similar to the first. After a number of minutes he ran out of breath and negative honorifics to apply to whoever had recently angered him.

  “Who are you talking about, dear?” sighed the queen as he slowly collapsed into a seat beside her.

  “That wanker! That Gilead! He’s refused my offers. Completely refused them. Is he mad? Surely he wants peace. I’ll crush him. I’ll go myself and tear his bloody heart out!”

  Wolfric jumped to his feet and marched away, evidently to write to the front.

  The room was left in sudden silence. Pelor glanced at Mirabelle. If Wolfric was about to leave for the front, they didn’t have as much time as they thought. She pursed her lips, evidently thinking the same thing. Before he could stop her, the princess jumped up to her feet and raced after her father, her wide skirts writhing around her ankles.

  It wasn’t long before Pelor heard a mighty bellow calling his name. Like his new love, he jumped to his feet and raced out of the great hall. Pelor found the king and his daughter standing in the corridor leading to his office.

  “This true?” demanded Wolfric.

  Pelor glanced at Mirabelle. What had she told him?

  “You want to marry my daughter?”

  “Yes, my lord. It would be the greatest honor anyone could bestow on me,” he added for good measure.

  Pelor kept his face neutral as he noticed Wolfric’s face twitch with the beginnings of a smile.

  “Good. ‘Bout time the wench gets married. You two will be wed before I leave for the front.”

  Mirabelle jumped up and down, her luxurious breasts bouncing with the movement. Pelor felt his stomach drop into his knees. It had all happened so fast. He had known Mirabelle liked him since he first arrived in Tolad, but their actual shift from interest to engagement had occurred in one swift night.

  Pelor swallowed the bile rising to his throat.

  Chapter Eleven

  Erin stared down at the back of Bethany’s head. He stared at her any time she wasn’t looking. Had she caught him she would have given him a firm punch in the arm, but he was willing to risk it. The truth was he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She wasn’t anything like the princess she had been in Tolad, just as she wasn’t anything like the frightened woman she had been during their journey.

  She was more.

  It had been three days since the refugees had arrived in Dothan. On the first day after their arrival, Bethany had worked tirelessly to place the orphaned children with families in the city. Erin had accompanied her to each destination, along with a group of troops. The king was taking no risks with Bethany’s life, much to Erin’s gratification.

  Sadly, despite her best efforts, no one would take a mute little girl with no hair. Sevar had cried when they cut off her matted hair as Bethany assured her it would grow back. The little girl had become Bethany’s shadow, much to Erin’s annoyance. He had yet to have a private moment with the princess.

  The second day after their arrival, Bethany had worked to place capable workers in vacant positions within the city. This task had been so massive it leaked onto the third day. Now, as he watched her, Sevar in tow, walk out of the great hall, he wondered what her plans were for the rest of the day.

  The group still residing in the castle had dwindled down to less than thirty individuals, most of them widows with packs of children too young to work. Finding homes for them was proving a challenge to the ingenious princess. In an effort to relieve the disruption to the castle’s normal activities, due to Gilead’s grumbling, Bethany placed one mother in charge of the horde of children and put the other women to work within the castle walls. She called it a short term solution, but Erin wondered if Bethany was hoping Gilead and the steward would forget about their aggravation, and eventually forget about the new workers Bethany had “hired.”

  It was a long day of repurposing a larger room for the increased number in the castle’s nursery, shifting servants around until the five new women and their children had quarters, often shared with another family, and calming the complaints of the servants already installed in the castle.

  When the sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon, Bethany let out a long sigh as she collected her sheet of notes from Sevar. The little girl had acted as her assistant as best she could, even though she didn’t know her numbers or letters.

  Erin looked back over the last three days, wondering how he had failed to get even one moment alone with Bethany. He began to wonder if she was avoiding him, but dismissed the idea when he realized how tired she was. There was simply too much to do. Now, though, the work had been done. Erin decided to take matters into his own hands.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested. “I don’t know ‘bout you, but I could use a breather.”

  “Sevar needs her dinner,” said Bethany, glancing down at the tiny child.

  “Sevar, why don’t you go down and get some food,” Erin said as he raised his eyebrows in an effort to convey another message to Bethany.

  The little girl glanced between the two of them for a moment, obviously torn between her need for food and her desire to overhear whatever it was they wouldn’t say in front of her. Bethany picked up on Erin’s secret message and patted Sevar on the shoulder, while handing her the all-important notes and writing stick.

  “Will you go save us some seats, Sevar. We’ll be along soon. I just need a little fresh air before I eat. I won’t be long,” she added as she turned the child toward the keep and gave her a nudge.

  Sevar ran off in the direction of her dinner, giving them only one backward glance.

  “My lady,” Erin said with a smirk as he offered her his arm.

  Bethany smiled wickedly at him as she took it and allowed herself to be guided away from the keep. Dothan’s bailey was larger than he had expected, giving them ample places to walk, but just like Tolad, the bailey was all proportioned off for work areas. There were no flower gardens or man-made waterfalls like in a Bumi palace.

  “Where to?” she asked when he began to falter.

  “Umm…”

  “I have an idea.”

  Bethany led him up the narrow steps to the battlements and along the walkway toward the southern tower. She nodded to each guard with a smile, calling a few by name as they passed by. They reached the southern tower, which rose up a few stories above the battlement and jutted out at least five feet beyond the boarder of the tall walls, allowing bowmen to shoot invaders in the back as they pushed ladders up against the wall. Erin silently approved of the castle’s design.

  “Where are we going?” he asked when she opened the small door leading onto a landing within the tower.

  The structure was wide enough to have a room on each floor, but surrounding the room was a wide, spiral staircase, lighted by sunlight streaming in through narrow windows available
to archers should the need arise. It was just enough light for them not to trip up the shallow steps.

  “I wanted to show you the view from the top of the tower. It’s my favorite. Even better than that view from the Tolad mountains. Remember?”

  Erin nodded. “Wait. Just for a moment.”

  Bethany looked back at him, realization dawning across her face. She knew he wanted to talk privately, and knew they would have no privacy on the tower. She stopped on the step above him, putting her a little closer to eye level.

  They were both silent for a moment, neither one daring to start the conversation. To Erin’s relief, Bethany eventually opened her mouth to speak.

  “Why did you leave me?”

  Erin cringed. He hadn’t expected that question. Hadn’t she heard him when he told her he cared for her? When he had confessed his fears? When he had admitted he could never fit into her life here? If she hadn’t heard him then, he was loath to repeat himself. Erin glared at the floor as he tried to find an answer to her question that was truthful, but not the full truth of “I love you.”

  “I never thought I could possibly have a place here. I thought your brother would give me some reward and send me on my way.”

  Bethany stared at him, doubt still visible in her eyes.

  “Why not take the reward then? You said enough times that that was why you were helping me.”

  Erin chewed on his lip. “That changed.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t fight to get you a position here? Did you think I wouldn’t do everything I could to keep you here… if that was what you wanted?”

  Erin shrugged a little, his eyes trained back on the floor.

  “You were a fool, Erin.”

  To that he nodded willingly. “Yes. I often am around you.”

  Erin glanced up at her, surprised by the words that had spilled out of his mouth of their own accord. To his relief she was smiling, laughter washing away the doubt in her eyes.

  “Did you only come back because Gilead offered you a job?”

  “I was on my way back when I met up with him.”

  Bethany’s smile increased. “Good.”

  “Are you okay? I mean really okay?” he asked.

  Bethany’s smile faded a little. “I wasn’t. In fact, I’m not sure I am yet, but I’m getting better. It’s harder to adjust than I had expected. I wasn’t very happy. Gilead threatening to send me back to Tolad, and you weren’t here, and…”

  “Let me take you away,” he said, grabbing her hands between his. “We can run away. We can live on the land. I’ll always be there to protect you, but I can’t protect you from Gilead’s stupid choices if we stay here.”

  Bethany hesitated a moment before shaking her head. “It’s not that I don’t want to. But I have a duty here, to my people. I can’t abandon them. Not when I know what they have to face. I just can’t.”

  “What if Gilead marries you off?”

  “I guess we’ll just have to see,” she admitted, sounding as though she were on the verge of tears.

  Erin didn’t stop to think about his action as he folded her into his arm.

  She willingly stepped into his embrace, resting her head against his chest.

  They stood there for along moment before she squirmed a little.

  “We need to get moving. I don’t want people to suspect you of anything.”

  Good thing they can’t read my mind, he thought to himself as he followed her up to the tower.

  Lyolf stared down at the message in his hand. The pigeon keeper was already working to cage the exhausted bird as he made soothing noises to it. The bird settled on a perch, sidling up to its mate. The bird keeper moved the little cage over to those that needed to have their parings separated again. Carrier pigeons were mated, and when separated the released pigeon would fly back to its mate.

  The ex-prince exited the large tower room that held the keep’s pigeons, blinking at the noxious smell of so many birds. Getting away from the smell didn’t help his agitation. He smoothed out the message he hand crumpled in his initial anger and re-read the message.

  Lyolf,

  Gilead has refused my offer of peace. I will be with you in a few weeks to begin a frontal attack on Dothan. Prepare for my arrival. Inform Drystan.

  Wolfric

  Lyolf crumpled the note in his fist again, a new anger rising up from his gut. He didn’t want his former father to come to his home. He had left Tolad to be free of him. Just because Wolfric was still his king didn’t give him the right to just come barging in at a whim. Lyolf took a deep breath, trying to calm his thoughts. They weren’t true anyway.

  The king had a right to visit any castle within his kingdom, especially one so close to the front. Lyolf jogged down the winding flight of stairs and burst out into the bailey. He spotted Brid in her new kitchen garden, carefully pulling weeds from around her tiny plants. She gave the garden nearly as much care as she gave her own children. She would need to be informed.

  “Brid,” he called as he marched toward her. “Get Cred and meet me in my office.”

  The middle-aged woman glanced up at him, her brows creasing at his stern tone. She nodded, climbed to her feet, and turned away.

  It wasn’t long before the couple arrived in his office and took the offered seats. Lyolf handed the message to Cred. Brid read over her husband’s shoulder.

  “Coming here?” she asked, sounding more exasperated than frightened.

  “Yep.”

  “Just what we needed,” grunted Cred. “’Fraid it’s worse than that. I was going to come talk to you today. Been talking to the others, and a few people in town. Seems a lot of people are dissatisfied with the king. Talked to a few servants to the wealthy merchants too. It’s not just the poor who are fed up with the king.”

  Brid glanced around the room, as though a spy might appear from within Lyolf’s chest and hear her husband’s traitorous words. Lyolf scratched the back of his neck, feeling the hairs stand on end as he thought of what would happen if the king did hear about their conversation.

  Why didn’t you just go with Cal and Bethany? he wondered to himself. Life would have been a lot easier if he had.

  “I need to get a message to Drystan.”

  The others nodded, only half listening to him.

  “Brid, get me a list of what the kitchen needs for our guests. Most of his party will go on to the army camp, but I have no doubt at least five or six men will be staying here.”

  “Where will they sleep?” asked Brid.

  “I’ll give the king my room. They’ll just have to squeeze into the family rooms currently not in use. It’s not a large castle after all. Wolfric knows this.”

  The others nodded.

  “Cred, will you get this sent to Drystan?” he asked, handing the note over to the captain of his guards.

  Lyolf watched them leave as he leaned back in his chair until it perched on two legs. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the dream of leaving it all behind. One day he would just pack up his two horses, take a supply of food, and head into King Gilead’s lands. He’d never been to Dothan, but he was sure he could find it eventually. Lyolf smiled as he envisioned himself knocking on their door. Cal and Bethany would come bursting out to hug him, pulling him into their home, feeding him a good meal, and insist he stay with them until he situated himself.

  He grunted to himself as he dropped his seat back onto the floor and opened his eyes. Lyolf had been envisioning this fantasy far too often lately. He needed to focus on the here and now, on his castle, and right now that meant preparing for the king’s visit.

  Chapter Twelve

  Pelor shuffled his feet as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His newly assigned slaves were putting the final touches on his wedding outfit. He felt like a peacock, done up in leather that had been died white, trimmed in gold, red, and blues. Pelor let out a deep sigh, forcing his attention up to the thin ringlet of gold that had been placed on his head. It wasn’t much of a crown,
but it did indicate he was now, and forever, part of this royal family.

  Bethany may have rejected him all those years ago, but he had found his own princess.

  “Thank you,” he said to the slaves as they bowed their way out of the room. The women blushed at his kindness and ducked out.

  Pelor waited a second, letting the slaves scurry away before he exited the room he had been living in. During the wedding ceremony the slaves would return and move his meager possessions down into the princess’ chamber. He rushed down the stone steps, happy to think he would never have to climb to the highest floor of the keep when it was time to go to bed. His steps faltered as he thought of that moment, coming all too swiftly. Considering how the princess had reacted up on the battlements he guessed he wouldn’t have to do much tonight other than imagine her as someone else.

  He rounded the corner onto the family’s level and stopped. Wolfric was in the passage coming out of his room with a slave woman in tow. The king pushed her out the door, causing her to tumble to the floor and bash her head against the far wall.

  “Tell that slave master never to send you again!” barked Wolfric as he gave her one final kick to the stomach.

  Pelor swallowed the bile rising to his mouth. In Dothan they had servants, not slaves, and no one dared touch another human being like that. Even if he hadn’t been raised in the Dothan capital, he would never think such actions were permissible. Pelor schooled his features to hide any sign of his disgust, thus increasing his feeling of guilt.

  The slave girl stumbled to her feet, clutching her stomach, and blundered her way to the nearest slave stairwell. Wolfric gave a grunt before looking up. His face spread into a smile as he took in his soon-to-be son-in-law.

  “There you are, m’boy!” he said, marching to where Pelor stood. “I thought you might have run away during the night. Not that I would have blamed you. Don’t know what you see in the girl, but I’m glad to have her finally married off. You’ll have a time keeping her in line, but one or two good licks of the belt and she’ll submit to you. I never thought I’d see the day that portly wench found a husband!”