Princess of Silence, page 36
part #1 of When Kings Collide Series
“I must.”
“We can attack and keep you both.”
“You can attack, and we can both die. All of us. We’ve given our word, and even if it’s to the likes of Leopold and Philip, it’s still our word.”
Caleb’s nostrils flared, and he swallowed hard, tears threatening the corners of his eyes. He leaned in and quickly pressed his lips to hers before whispering. “I love you. Four days at most.” He disappeared out the carriage door before she had a chance to respond.
“Katherine....”
“James, thank you for accompanying me. I shall see you in four days. At most.”
His anger turning to sorrow, James’s face melted. He leaned across the seat and embraced her, kissing her on the side of her head. “Please be careful, Katherine. I love you entirely too much to ever lose you.”
“I love you, too, big brother. Now, go.”
James looked her in the eyes once more and then slid out of the carriage, closing the door behind him.
The latch echoed through the vehicle like the door of a prison cell swinging shut, and Katherine felt dragons take flight in her stomach. The carriage pulled forward, slowly. She could no longer see Caleb or James out the window, though David was nearby. He gave her a sorrowful smile, and she shifted her eyes so they were pointed right ahead.
After a few more minutes, the carriage stopped again. The Gradenian soldiers’ accents were thick and difficult to understand. She could hear a bit of negotiation, and then David dismounted, walking toward her open window. “They will take the carriage, with you and your trunk, my Queen. It will be easier on Matthew not to have to be moved.”
Katherine nodded at him, unable to find words at the moment. He headed back to his horse, and she focused on the title he’d given her—everyone had been referring to her as the Queen of Arteria, including Caleb, but without a coronation.... It didn’t matter. So long as she could convince Philip she was the queen, that the marriage had taken place, the ceremony could come later. She was Caleb’s wife, there was no doubt of that. Whether that would matter to a man as evil as Philip would remain to be seen.
The carriage moved forward, and Katherine found her entire body shaking as the weight of what she’d taken on consumed her. Ahead of her, she could hear the squeak of wheels and realized she was going to pass right alongside Matthew’s carriage as he transferred to his brother’s control. Perhaps a glimpse of his face would help remind her of why she’d decided to make this sacrifice. Katherine moved to the window, her hands on the sill, and could see the trade had already been made. Gordon was driving the Gradenian carriage now, Dale beside him. The two officers saw her, their smiles sorrowful as they attempted to wish her well without saying a word. She raised her hand in recognition.
Matthew’s carriage was moving slowly to help manage his pain, she supposed, while hers was taking on speed. But as they passed, she looked inside and caught a glimpse of his face. He looked far worse than she could’ve ever imagined. Covered in crusted blood, his face dirty and unshaven. He wore a grimace; whatever those barbarians had done to him, they’d nearly killed him. She’d done the right thing. Even if it cost her her life, she knew Matthew would be well soon under Russell’s care, back with his family where he belonged. He had suffered enough.
In the last moment before the windows were no longer aligned, he looked at her, and she saw a flicker of recognition. Katherine pulled back, not wanting to upset him. But it was already too late. As her carriage pulled away, she heard him shout, “Angel? Angel! What? No! Don’t take her!”
Leaning her head back against the seat, Katherine closed her eyes and tried to picture the happy reunion that was about to take place. Caleb had been searching for his brother for so long, and now he had him back. She could see them embracing, smiling, tears of joy in their eyes. Even in her own mind, Caleb’s smile was haunted by the thought that his wife was gone, but she ignored that aspect, choosing instead to think of Matthew and Maggie’s reunification and how overjoyed the sweet queen would be to have her king back at her side.
Darkness overtook the carriage, which was just as well, because the Gradenian soldiers that rode alongside her now reminded her too much of the last time she’d fled in a carriage in the middle of the night, their snarls and grunts similar to the enemy who’d taken both her parents from her. Katherine’s hand went to the secret location in her skirt where she hid the elixir, and she tried to rest. If all went as planned, she’d be sleeping soundly soon enough.
Matthew was weeping. The carriage drove on, and Caleb allowed David to continue to oversee the operation, having fallen far behind so as not to be threatened by the Gradenians during the exchange, though he’d been close enough to see his wife disappear into the horizon. Now, as they headed back toward safer ground, the sound of his younger brother sobbing was as haunting as the nightjars crying out from the forests around them. When he thought he might not be able to handle the sound any longer, David ordered Dale and Gordon to stop, and the carriage came to a halt.
Caleb dismounted Hendrix in one motion, rushing over to his brother’s carriage door as another soldier brought a torch. It would take a moment longer for Russell to reach them, but Caleb needed to see his brother’s face.
Matthew’s wrists were bound, and he was doubled over, sobbing into his hands. The blood coating his hair and the tattered rags he wore were a clear indication he had been tortured, so Caleb was afraid to touch him, but he needed to assure him he was safe now, that he would be treated and taken care of. Most importantly, he needed to tell him Margaret was alive. When Katherine had explained Matthew thought she was dead, Caleb could hardly believe it. His brother must’ve been living in agony all these months, not knowing the truth. Now, he could relieve some of that agony.
“Matthew, you’re safe,” he said, quietly, his hand hesitating before gently resting on his brother’s forearm. “Look at me, won’t you? You’re safe at last.”
His body spasmed as the King of Zurconia tried to regain control of himself. “She sacrificed herself for me! Why did you let her? Why, Caleb? I would’ve died for her!”
“Calm down, Matthew, please,” Caleb insisted as Russell opened the door on the other side of the coach. “Believe me, I was as against it as anyone, but she made up her mind the moment she knew Leopold would kill you if she didn’t go.” He withdrew his blade and cut through the ropes that bound his brother’s wrists, eliciting a groan of relief from Matthew before his eyes narrowed in defiance again.
The physician waited patiently, though Caleb knew his brother needed treatment immediately. Matthew was still enraged. “Do you know who that was?”
A sound that could only be described between a sigh, a laugh, and a lamentable moan escaped his lips. “I do, Matthew. You knew her as Angel, but that’s not her true name. That was Katherine, the former Princess of Nadoria. There is more to that I must tell you, but first you should know—”
“Princess of Nadoria?” Matthew’s eyes bulged, the white distinct against the dirt and grime on his face. “It can’t be!”
“It is. Much has transpired since you left Blackthorn, though not many days have passed. Regardless, Matthew, listen, Katherine informed me of a situation I must correct immediately—Matthew, Margaret is alive.”
Somehow, Matthew’s eyes widened even more, his mouth agape, as he stared at Caleb, not even breathing. “Maggie?” he finally asked, his voice cracking with the word. “My Maggie... is alive?”
Caleb allowed himself a small smile. “Yes, she is alive and well and waiting for you at Castle Caine. Russell was able to save her, and now, if you will calm yourself, he will treat you as well. You must be in terrible pain. They’ve tortured you, haven’t they?”
Matthew’s face shifted again, the awe and joy that had lit his eyes in considering the possibility that Margaret was waiting for him replaced by fear and terror. “They did. I don’t wish to speak of it.”
“I understand.” The rage Caleb already felt against Leopold and Philip both stabbed at him from the insides as he imagined what the bastards had done to his brother. If either of them so much as disturbed a hair on Katherine’s head....
Russell was inside the carriage now, and Matthew shrieked in pain under the physician’s gentle hands. Caleb caught his eyes, and the medical man shook his head. “It’s not good, Your Majesty. We may need to use the litter. The carriage will be too rough.”
Caleb signaled to a few of the soldiers standing nearby to fetch the hospital cart they’d brought along, just in case. “What’s the diagnosis, Russell?”
“His limbs are near the severing point, all four of them, from what I can tell. He has multiple abrasions, his skull may be fractured.”
The king didn’t need his brother to say the word for him to know what kind of torture device produced the sort of injuries where one’s limbs were nearly severed. Leopold had used the wrack. Caleb’s fists balled up, and he slammed his hand into his own thigh to keep from hitting the only object closer, the carriage, since that would hurt his brother. “They will mend in time?”
“Yes, with proper rest and care, they will, though they will always ache, and he may have a limp when he walks.”
Matthew was listening again now. “Do you have something that will stop the pain, Russell? I can’t bear it much longer.”
The physician opened the medical bag he carried and pulled out a bottle that was becoming too familiar to Caleb, and he stepped aside to let the man do his work. He’d let Russell care for his brother while he focused on getting his wife safely back from the clutches of the demons who’d already taken so much from his family.
Chapter 34
The table was filled with Leopold’s favorite morning dishes; eggs, fruits and jams, toasted bread, ham and bacon. The smell was delicious, but he’d already eaten and chose to sip a cup of warm cider instead of indulging in another helping. Philip, who sauntered into the room looking as chipper as Leopold had seen him since his arrival, sat down across from him and eagerly filled his plate.
“Good morning, dear cousin,” Leopold said, the cider nearly burning his tongue. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a babe suckling his mother’s teet,” Philip replied, slathering butter on a slice of bread. “Thank you for requesting my presence. It seems I’ve been in my chambers for ages, save the small break to see Matthew off.”
Leopold chuckled, wanting to remind his cousin that stealing Gradenian cavalry uniforms came with a cost, but he said nothing of the sort. “Shouldn’t be long now before Katherine arrives at our door. You will be happy to see, her won’t you?”
Philip had taken a bite of the bread but paused now, staring up at the wooden rafters above them, a smile overtaking his face. “Wait until you see her, Leopold. She’s magnificent. It’s the thought of taking her at last that’s kept me going through all of this—losing my kingdom, my home. I’m not saying it’s worth it, mind you.” He pointed the tip of the knife in Leopold’s direction, a gesture the king did not appreciate but ignored. “But it is something.”
“I am curious to see her for myself,” Leopold replied, taking another sip as Philip devoured the eggs and ham on his plate. Leopold let him eat for a few moments, watching how quickly he cleared his plate. Satisfied that Philip had had enough to meet his purposes, Leopold changed the subject. “Tell me, dear cousin, how long did it take for you to arrange the infiltration of Castle Ringley?”
Philip’s fork was full, but he answered the question. “A few months, I suppose. I didn’t handle the details myself. My man, Charles, took care of all of that.” He looked sorrowful for a moment, and Leopold imagined this Charles must’ve passed. He didn’t care. Philip took another bite.
“Interesting. And what exactly was the price you spent acquiring the services of the castle chef?”
A chuckle rang out of Philip’s mostly-full mouth. “I ended up paying him nothing, as his services were to be compensated on completion of the task. Since Matthew killed him before I had a chance to pay, there was little I could do. It was far easier to slip poison into the king’s dinner than I would’ve ever imagined.”
The irony washed over Leopold, and he stifled a smile. “When did you become aware that the queen had survived?”
Philip grunted. “Not long after. A few of our scouts saw them taking her to Arteria. We were unable to hold Ringley, despite the inferiority of the Zurconian Army. They pressed us back. With no leader, they are in a state of chaos at the moment, though Caleb has lent them assistance. I suppose Matthew will take back the throne once he is well.” Philip shook his head, stabbing a piece of pork more forcefully than necessary. “Perhaps our next endeavor can be to take Zurconia. With your forces, it should be easy enough. You could put me on that throne, and we could attack Arteria from both sides.”
Leopold’s eyebrows raised. The idea that he would ever use his forces in such a wasteful endeavor was ridiculous, not to mention it seemed Philip had an unrealistic impression of how strong the Gradenian forces truly were. There was no need to exhaust himself explaining under the circumstances, though. “Something to think about.” He drew another pull from his mug, watching Philip’s eye begin to twitch as beads of sweat appeared along his hairline.
Philip finally noticed for the first time that his cousin wasn’t eating. “Are you not partaking in the spread?” He shoveled a bite of egg into his mouth, his hand shaking as he did so.
Leopold shrugged, bridging his hands in front of his chin and watching with fascination as Philip began to deteriorate. The former king was noticing now but had yet to put the pieces together. “Tell me, Philip, what was it the chef used that killed Queen-Mother Beatrice so quickly and left Margaret near death? Was it mandrake?”
The clatter of Philip’s fork as it hit his plate echoed around the room. He made a gasping sound, the food in his mouth, mostly unchewed, falling out as he tried to suck in air. His eyes were wide as he stared at Leopold. He’d finally sorted it all out.
Leopold continued, allowing himself the pleasure of a small smile. “My understanding is that it causes convulsions, vomiting, coughing up blood, and very often instant death. Unless, of course, one is given an antidote quickly. Isn’t that right, my dear cousin?”
Vomit spewed from Philip’s lips, coating the table and dripping down his chin. Leopold fixated on the dark red patches, imagining that was the blood he’d just spoken of. Philip heaved again, his eyes bulging as his hands grasped the table, trying to keep him upright. Leopold pushed his chair from the table as Philip fought to keep his eyes on the king’s face, a silent question hanging between them.
“Yes, an antidote just like this one.” Leopold lifted the vial he held in his hand. Philip made a small noise in the back of his throat, likely a plea for help. Standing, Leopold approached him as Philip lost his fight against the dizziness and slipped onto the floor, landing in a pile of his own vomit. Leopold crouched next to him, hovering near his face, the vial in clear sight.
Philip reached for it, “Please,” he stammered, trickles of vomit and blood spilling out the side of his mouth.
Leopold put his hand to his ear, as if he hadn’t heard him.
Philip managed to force it out again, “Please!” He gagged, wheezing and spewing as he slumped back on the rug, choking up bile and fighting for air
“What’s that, dear cousin?” A wide grin parted Leopold’s lips. “You want the antidote? That is too bad; you see, I just don’t have enough to spare. As a king, you never know when someone might try to poison you. Rest assured, the lovely Princess Katherine, whose arrival should be any time now, will be well taken care of. My most sincere regards to the devil. Tell him that I’m coming for him. But not today. Today, my dear cousin, you go alone.”
Philip’s thrashing lessoned, the vomiting subsided, but he continued to stare up at Leopold, wide eyed, the life draining out of him. Leopold wanted to make sure the last thing Philip would see was the smile of the man who would claim his wife.
Rather than watching his sister be carried away by the vile likes of Leopold, James had ridden off the moment he told her goodbye, needing to take immediate action in an effort to assure himself they would get her back as quickly as possible. Despite riding away from her, toward the Nadoria-Gradenia border, he was able to use the time it took to reach Eleanora’s army to focus on strategy, not the anger that consumed him.
He pulled into camp a few hours before the sun came up, handing his horse off to an attendant and seeking out the queen. When he was told that she was still sleeping, he replied, “Wake her.”
Eleanora was fully dressed when he entered the tent, her long, blonde hair down, but military boots on her feet. He imagined she’d been sleeping fully-clothed in case Leopold attempted a preemptive attack in the middle of the night. She embraced him but knew something was the matter before he even spoke. “Where is Katherine?” she asked. “I know she wished to stay with Caleb, but your expression worries me.”
“Perhaps you should sit,” he advised, wishing Kenneth were present to help calm her, but he was not. His sister preferred to sleep alone. Still, her husband was often the only one who could keep the queen’s temper under control.
“Is she well?”
“For now, yes.” James stepped away from her and ran a hand through his hair.
Eleanora gasped behind him. “He did it, didn’t he?” When he turned to look at her, his sister’s eyes were on fire. “That bastard agreed to the trade!”
“Not exactly.” James reached out a hand to still her, but it didn’t meet its mark as she whirled away. “It was Katherine herself who agreed. Believe me, Eleanora, I did everything I could to try to stop it. But that little sister of ours is almost as stubborn as....” He stopped, not wanting to insult her by finishing the sentence. “She insisted, saying that it was the only way Matthew could return to his family.”
