Princess of Silence, page 15
part #1 of When Kings Collide Series
Caleb finished reading the letter and handed it to David before his emotions got the better of him, and he turned his attention to the mattress. While he hoped there might be another clue as to Matthew’s whereabouts, the idea that he needed to destroy something seemed urgent. Tossing handfuls of straw and bloodied sheets across the floor, he took the bed apart. In the aftermath, he found only a few pieces of cloth and a drawing of a pair of eyes.
“All right,” David finally said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
Caleb realized he was breathing heavy. Pieces of straw floated through the air. He batted them away as he surveyed the mess. If there was anything else here, his men would find it. Bending down, he snatched up the picture of the eyes and shoved it into his pocket, along with the map and the note David returned to him. He’d let his anger get the better of him again, a demon he battled as fiercely as any opposing army, but at least he hadn’t hurt anyone
David followed him down the stairs. “Perhaps we can figure out who this Angel person is. She may have some more information for us.” His tone was optimistic, and Caleb wanted to take the same attitude, but it was difficult to know his brother had escaped on the brink of Blackthorn’s fall. The logic behind it was sound, and Caleb imagined the same soldiers who’d unlocked the door to let him escape would’ve been leading him to the gallows or stolen him away with Philip. Still, the situation was less than ideal.
Caleb didn’t stop until he reached his horse. “Stay here. Find my brother,” he said, meeting David’s gaze before he threw a leg over his saddle and grabbed for the reins. His most trusted friend gave him a solid nod, and Caleb turned his horse away from Blackthorn, toward home and the promise that someone was waiting at Castle Caine who could tell him where he could find his brother.
After hours of walking through dark and treacherous conditions, Matthew’s feet ached and his back was stiff from leaning forward. His mind had already begun to play tricks on him, and once he was certain he was about to be overtaken by Philip’s guard. Now, he thought he heard horses hooves and paused.
Squinting, he could make out what appeared to be thin rays of light in the distance and realized he was looking at the end of the tunnel. A solid wall in front of him, and a metal grate just above it, would end his journey here. Despite his pains, he hurried forward, ready to taste freedom.
Sunlight poured over his face, and he closed his eyes and basked in it a moment, though he was certain he heard voices accompanying the pounding of hooves. It would be easy enough to reach up and move the grate, but without being able to see what he was walking into, it would also be foolish.
The tunnel was fairly dry here, and with a bit of fresh air and warmth from the grate, Matthew decided to wait for cover of darkness. He settled against the wall, taking a swig from the canteen and digging out a bit of bread. The longer he listened to the shouts above him, the more certain he became that the Gradenians had arrived, and while it would’ve been nice to think the tunnel had led him to Caleb’s men, he would never be so fortunate.
Confident that the grate was obscured enough from the soldiers in the distance, Matthew rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, the scent of freedom filling his lungs. He was almost there.
Gradenia was a wretched, dismal place, and as Philip rode through the village near Castle Graden, he wondered why anyone would ever want to live here. Even the homes were a dark gray color, matching the shades of stone that jetted out from the barren mountains all around him. Every face he passed wore a scowl, and the sharp wind blowing down from the mountains chilled him even on the inside.
The sun had risen but brought no warmth. He blamed the shaking in his hands on shivers and not anxiety, though every time he thought of all he’d lost, he wanted to scream or cry—or both. Graden loomed in the distance, and he could picture Leopold in there, on his throne, a smug smile on his face as he insisted Philip drop to his knees and praise him. Perhaps he should’ve stayed behind and met the sharp end of Caleb’s sword instead.
Philip was alive, though, that was the most important part. And he hoped that Charles and Katherine were, too, though he had no way of knowing. He’d thought that they would eventually catch up to him, or send a messenger ahead to let him know they had escaped. Hearing nothing made him anxious that they’d been captured—or worse. While he was confident the Arterians wouldn’t purposely kill a woman, he was fearful Charles may not have made it out of Blackthorn alive.
Pushing the thoughts aside, Philip watched as the coach carrying his mother and uncle rolled to a stop ahead of him at Graden’s doors. He’d caught up to the carriage late last night but had soon fallen behind after catching an ear full of his mother’s distraught reflections. Edward hadn’t said anything, but Philip had been certain if he stuck around long enough, his uncle would give him a tongue lashing. Not that any of this was his fault! It had been Edward’s idea after all—all of this disaster was solely the responsibility of his fat, repulsive uncle whom should’ve been left behind to rot.
Once the carriage was emptied and Philip had given his mother and uncle a chance to be escorted inside and out of his sight, he reluctantly brought his horse forward, the few guards who had accompanied him still alongside. The guards at Leopold’s gate were unimpressed and short tempered. “King Philip,” one of them said, his accent thick and his word choice condescending, “King Leopold is expecting you. You will be escorted to private chambers until he is prepared to meet with you.”
Without a reply, Philip swung himself down, hoping the guards didn’t notice the waver in his knees as he steadied himself. It had been a long journey, he told himself. He followed the soldiers into the darkened halls of Graden to a decent, if not luxurious, bedchamber with an accompanying sitting space and was thankful when they closed the doors behind him—particularly when he spotted a wine service set up in the corner.
His hands continued to tremble as Philip removed his gloves and poured his own drink. He downed the first goblet full in two swallows and then refilled, wiping a hand against his damp forehead. Once the glass was refilled, he sank into a chair, taking this one a little more slowly.
His thoughts were immediately invaded with images of all he’d given up, and anger swelled inside of him. With a little more time to himself, he might’ve destroyed the room in a fit of rage, but he was only alone for a few minutes before someone knocked on the door.
“Yes?” he called through clenched teeth.
The door opened and a servant with the same sort of attitude everyone else seemed to have here stated, “King Leopold will see you now.”
Philip eyed him over his goblet, which he drained before he set the vessel aside and slowly pulled himself to standing. He might not be King of Gradenia, but he was still a king. Wasn’t he? He wouldn’t be ordered around by the likes of this small man.
Unimpressed, the servant turned in a fluid motion and headed down the hallway. With nothing else to do, Philip followed, listening to the sound of his boots, the only pair he now owned, echoing off of the stone floor.
Leopold sat on his throne wearing a thick black, fur cape. The rest of his garments were the same dark shade, which made his blonde hair look almost white. Philip understood why the women found his cousin attractive, even though the two of them looked nothing alike. His cousin fingered his mustache, studying him as he entered the room, and Philip was reminded of how ridiculous he’d always thought Leopold looked with his upper lip waxed to a dark black, like his cousin’s eyes but in opposition to his mane. Philip imagined his cousin’s soul was even darker than his prized facial hair.
His cousin wasn’t known for his kindness, that was certain, but he was extremely intelligent. He always seemed to know when to toss his hat into the ring and when to sit and wait. As Philip stopped before his throne, he wished he’d taken his advice, but he could hardly say that now.
“Philip, cousin!” he exclaimed, his smile wide though disingenuous. “How was the ride? You must be exhausted.”
Philip bowed his head to the other king but did nothing more, and Leopold demanded nothing, only stood and embraced him, pounding his back solidly. “I am exhausted,” Philip admitted, once the king was reseated. He stood before him with his hands folded, disheveled, unthroned, and alone.
Leopold took him in for a moment, his head rocking back and forth. “I am sorry to hear of your losses. It is a shame.” Philip nodded. “Perhaps you have drained some of Caleb’s resources at least?”
Philip’s eyebrows shot up. What an unusual question. Was Leopold thinking of going on the offensive now that he was no longer needed? “Some,” Philip replied, not sure what else to say. “I should send word to Nadoria. Perhaps now they will offer assistance.” The chances were slim, and once again Philip was reminded that he was alone, without his bride.
Leopold adjusted in his seat, his eyes revealing he was settling on which question to ask next. “You think they will assist you?”
“I hope so.”
The king shifted again. Philip wanted his cousin to commit to assisting instead but knew even if he intended to challenge Caleb, he wouldn’t say so, not now. “Where is your wife? I heard she was not with you.”
Clearing his voice, Philip replied, “I do not know.”
Again, Leopold nodded at him. “That’s too bad. I have heard of her beauty. I would’ve liked to have met her.”
Not wanting to discuss Katherine any further, Philip did not respond. “My mother and uncle made it here safely.”
“Yes, and I have provided them the most luxurious accommodations.” Leopold twirled his mustache in a manner that made Philip’s skin crawl slightly, but he wasn’t sure why. “Where is Matthew?”
Philip shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The thought of Matthew escaping was both embarrassing and anger inducing. “Apparently, my incompetent guards somehow managed to let him escape.” Leopold’s eyes shifted but he didn’t speak. “However,” Philip added, attempting to sound optimistic, “we believe that it is possible he is still somewhere in Clovington, on foot, and has not been rescued by his brother. Perhaps, if your cavalry is observant enough, they might be able to track him down.” It was a hope he’d held on to since he realized Matthew wouldn’t be making the journey to Gradenia with him.
“You have lost your entire kingdom in pursuit of vengeance, cousin, all for the sake of holding a king ransom and mishandling it decisively. Now, you want me to risk everything and attempt to track him down?”
The words stung, but Philip couldn’t argue with any of them. “Not risk everything,” he clarified. “I’m only saying, should the opportunity arise....”
“Perhaps you’re confusing your aspirations with mine.” Leopold’s tone was even and calm, but in his eyes, Philip could see he was considering what such a move would do for Gradenia. Now was not the time to press, however. He bit back a response.
“You must be tired. You should return to your chambers and rest. I shall call for you later, for the evening meal.” With a wave of Leopold’s hand, servants were moving in on Philip to escort him out before he could even respond.
It was just as well. He had nothing left to say to Leopold. He followed the same servant as before back toward his chambers. In the distance, he heard a commotion and paused.
“Citizens of Clovington are arriving,” the man explained. “We shall accommodate them.”
Philip nodded, but he wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. He had no way of knowing if they were villagers from the castle, aristocrats who’d left in the middle of the night like him, or if Caleb continued to press past Blackthorn and claim even more of his former holdings.
Back in his chambers, Philip poured another drink and wandered over to the window. His view was of the mountains—not a surprise. But he could also see the castle gates from here. A ragtag mob of displaced Clovington citizens were making their way toward the castle, but the sight that pulled his mouth up into a snarl was a clear view of hundreds of members of the Gradenian cavalry barreling down the road toward Clovington.
Chapter 17
With the setting sun, Katherine’s eyes began to grow heavy. She stifled a yawn and readjusted against the hard wooden back of the prison cart. At the far end of the wagon, one of the younger girls was singing a song about a boatman longing to go home. While the princess could understand why the others were remorseful leaving Clovington, the prospect of traveling to Arteria and either starting a new life there or possibly being returned to her family in Nadoria had Katherine anything but solemn. Most of the other occupants were quiet, dozing themselves, or staring through the bars at the changing landscape as Clovington swamps began to turn to Arterian forests.
What seemed like a moment later, a sharp blow to her side and the sound of someone buzzing in her ear had Katherine’s eyes flying open. She hadn’t even realized she was asleep until she wasn’t anymore, but the sky was dark and no one else was stirring save the woman next to her whose face hovered close to her own.
Katherine blinked a few times, trying to get her bearings. The face was a familiar one, and after a moment, Katherine realized it was the same redhead she had seen in the castle a few days earlier. While part of her was comforted at seeing a familiar face, she recalled having the distinct perception that this woman wasn’t trustworthy.
A large smile on her face, the woman leaned in and whispered, “Pardon, Princess. I hate to wake you but wanted to take advantage of the solace while everyone else is sleeping.” Katherine’s eyes widened as she realized this woman knew her identity. “You must be terribly uncomfortable in such a state of undress. Being as though you are a royal, I would like to offer you my gown. It would be my honor to wear only a robe, knowing that your modesty is kept intact, my Princess.”
The act of kindness caught Katherine off-guard. She wasn’t sure what to think. Only a few days ago, she’d questioned this woman’s character, and now she was proposing she be the one to face the Arterians wearing only the king’s robe.
Even though Katherine had reservations about switching clothes with the woman, she couldn’t protest, and when the girl began to take off her gown, the princess didn’t try to stop her. Almost everyone else was asleep, the male guards were nowhere to be seen, so Katherine was assured as much privacy as one could expect. With expert fingers, the other woman helped Katherine into her own underclothing in the nude before pausing to put on the robe and then help Katherine into the gown. It was a simple frock with none of the details or intricacies Katherine was used to, but the change was pleasant, and once the change was complete, a wave of relief washed over her.
Katherine turned to the stranger and smiled, making a gesture with her hands she hoped the woman would understand to mean thank you.
“You are most welcome, Princess,” she whispered, resting her head back against the wood behind them. “If there’s anything else I can do to make you comfortable, please let me know. They call me Rose, by the way, Rose Baker. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Again, Katherine nodded and smiled, thinking she had completely misjudged Rose when she saw her in the hallway. Now that she was more comfortable, thoughts of sleep were welcome again. The princess yawned and tipped her head back next to Rose, the squeak of the wagon wheels an unusual lullaby.
“What a beautiful ring,” Rose whispered. Katherine stirred slightly lifting her hand. “Is that your family seal?”
Nodding seemed to take too much energy, but Katherine managed. If Rose said anything else, the princess didn’t hear. With her head on the shoulder of her new friend, she promptly fell asleep.
“Son of a bitch!” David proclaimed, watching as the soldiers worked by torch light to roll away the larger pieces of debris that blocked off the one hallway he needed access to. After thoroughly searching the entire castle and studying the map he’d found in Princess Katherine’s chambers, he’d determined the only way to reach the catacombs lie beneath the pile of rubble the Clovington Army had left in their wake.
“It’ll take days at this rate,” one of the other officers, a man called Robby, said, shaking his head. “Those bastards didn’t do much of anything right this entire campaign. But they sure bloody hell know how to destroy their own damn castle!”
“Keep working! Day and night. When these men tire, bring in more. If we are to find Matthew, we must get through that blasted tunnel!” David punctuated the last words with a fist to his own palm and then stepped away, needing to find some fresh air and regain his composure.
Back outside, he took a few deep breaths and looked up at the starlit sky. The moon was low and didn’t offer much in the form of illumination, which could be a blessing if Matthew were out there now, trying to find his way back to Arteria or to friendly forces. The Gradenians were about; he’d had reports of their cavalry in the area. If Leopold were to find the missing king before David’s men did.... He couldn’t finish the thought.
Growing up at Castle Caine, he’d befriended Caleb early on. While the king had his faults like everyone, David had the utmost respect for his leader. He’d never seen anyone with a military mind the likes of Caleb’s. Matthew, on the other hand, had always been more impulsive, following his heart and not thinking things through. While he couldn’t necessarily blame him for trying to escape in this situation, David had an awful feeling that this was not going to turn out the way they’d hoped. The prospect of telling Caleb Matthew had been taken prisoner again made David’s stomach churn, and while he’d seldom been the victim of the king’s rage, he’d seen it enough times to know it was better to avoid the storm. Caleb was a kindhearted individual the majority of the time, but once the sparks flew.... It would be better to find Matthew now, before the king returned.
