Updated 5/1/24

Part 6

Chapter 25

King Edal

Farr Castle

The Royal Court was in residence at Farr Castle. Everyone was invited to the annual Great Hunt in the King’s Forest. Every noble that could attend did, no matter how far they had to travel. Merchants, traders, and street performers congregated too. Even commoners came to cheer on the hunters from afar.

King Edal, beloved by the people, waved to spectators as he rode out for the first hunt. Farrling Wood was full of riders. With banging drums, the beaters in the distance drove the swine toward the hunters. King Edal headed toward his tent. Before it, nobles and their servants loitered about.

“You lot are too noisy. No boar would come this way,” the king complained to the large entourage with him. “Remain here.” His attendant and cousin followed as he found the perfect spot, a clearing with a thick forest behind him providing a yard of shade. “It will probably be some time before we see any movement.”

“Shall I bring more wine, Sire?” his attendant asked.

King Edal raised a hand. “I’ve had enough.”

“Of this swill?” his cousin added. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s ghastly. How could your man serve this? I’ll be back shortly with something drinkable. You,” he snapped at his own servant, “come with me. I can hardly trust you to select a wine suitable for the king.”

“You’re going to ride off without my leave, cousin?” Edal teased.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I forgot myself. I—”

“Go! You aren’t good company without a fine vintage within. It will be a pleasure to have a few moments of peace.”

Some time passed, ending with a telltale rustling in the bushes.

King Edal smiled. Luck was with him. He’d chosen his spot well. Perhaps the first kill of the day. Lowering his lance, he seated it betwixt elbow and hip.

The boar attacked.

He spurred his horse forward.

The lance struck true, mortally wounding the beast. Yet, it wasn’t done.

A fine specimen, it tore free and turned to face the horse now behind it.

Edal looked for his attendant, who should have been making his own pass at the boar. There was no sign of the man; blast him. Not that he needed him. The creature would bleed out in only moments.

With a smile on his lips, King Edal drew his two-handed sword and waited.

The bleeding boar charged.

The king had his horse dart backward out of the way as he brought the blade down. Its tip effortlessly cut through the animal’s spine, killing it instantly.

Edal circled slowly, inspecting his prize. It was indeed magnificent.

His only warnings were a soft footfall and a glint of light. Then only pain and darkness.

The Spy

The assassin twisted his boar spear within the gap in the king’s brigandine to maximize the damage. Not that there was any need, but for the joy of it. Hunting animals was so much less gratifying than hunting men. And to hunt a king? It was a good day indeed.

Bracing himself, he withdrew his spear from its entry point. Blood gushed from the king’s armpit, soaking the horse and ground as the king’s lifeless body toppled from the saddle.

Snuffles from the bushes indicated more wild boar. Scooping up the king’s sword, he slid his spear deep into the underbrush. It was perfect against the monarch but was too unwieldy against multiple beasts. The long sword would serve better.

The killer-for-hire struck the king’s horse with the flat of the blade and it gallop off.

He ran to his mount, relishing the thought of what the wild animals would do to the king’s body. There’d be no signs the assassin had ever been there. It was a good day indeed.

He even had a trophy to remember it by, at least until he returned to Lorness, where Earl Melazera would claim it. He hooked the king’s long sword in his belt.

Gaelib

Screams drew Gaelib and many others. Those of man, horse, and boar. But he was not soon enough.

What confronted him was grisly indeed. Blood covered the ground.

The king had killed one boar, but it hadn’t been alone. Two sows had mauled him, one ripping at King Edal’s face, the second at an arm. All were dead now.

The ferocity of the scene mesmerized Gaelib.

No one will doubt what happened. The nobles will blame themselves for leaving the king alone, so they could be the first to kill a boar. People are so predictable.

He maintained his façade of grief as he slowly walked his mount away.

Chapter 26 887

Blackhawk

Anger filled Blackhawk as he surveyed the ruin of the king’s body.

Colonel Braxton commanded the nearly one hundred others at the scene to depart immediately. He left Blackhawk in charge of eleven members of the King’s Guard, with orders to keep watch over the king’s body. He also sent a rider in search of Colonel Lucius Lafarge, the officer who’d ordered the soldiers to surround the hunting area rather than be within it.

It gave him time to think. Lucius was loyal to the Earl of Lorness. So too, were many in the Royal Guard at Farr Castle. He’d learned to identify Melazera’s pawns.

So, this was the next phase of Melazera’s plan.

The king was a good man who lacked all hubris.

Unlike Gaelib Melazera.

Eventually, a replacement detail arrived, and Blackhawk dismissed his men.

Had we been closer, we might have caught those responsible.

Blackhawk remained until Braxton was long out of earshot. He was curious. Had the assassin left clues behind? Could he find the king’s horse? It shouldn’t have gone far.

Analyzing the terrain and the deployment of the soldiers, Blackhawk deduced there were two likely escape routes for Melazera’s operative. One went uphill, due east toward the market faire. The other went downhill, southward. It led to the river. He chose the river. The man might need to wash before encountering travelers. Blackhawk followed it and soon found the tracks of a horse. The impressions were shallow, so it was probably riderless.

In the ninth hour of the day, he spied the king’s stallion eating tender shoots in a stream.

The horse is many miles from Farrling Wood. Why’d it run so far?

He dismounted. Walking a circuit around the royal beast, he slowly approached it, speaking soothing words.

The blood spray on the animal’s legs, belly, and neck was from the king’s encounter with the first boar. Its saddle and stirrups were intact, as were its reins. But the thick blood down the beast’s left side…

The boar’s blood couldn’t have drenched the horse this way.

The king’s two-handed sword was missing. That was beyond odd.

No boar killed King Edal. I must document this.

He rode hard for High Keep, leading the royal mount. Entering by the back gate with it covered by the blanket from the king’s pack, he sought Donert Maitlan, recently promoted. “Captain, I need a stall for this horse and a guard to post on it.”

“Yes, sir. Right this way.” Maitlan guided him to a secluded bay at the rear of the stables.

“The king’s been murdered,” Blackhawk whispered. “Colonel Lafarge has already declared it a hunting accident. I must have the evidence documented. Then I’ll return the horse to Farr Castle. Wake Commander Taelor and ask him to come to the stables.”

Maitlan strode away quickly and returned promptly with Commander Taelor and Lieutenant Mitchett following.

“What in the world…?” Taelor’s eyes grew large at the sight of the blood-soaked horse.

“King Edal’s been murdered,” Blackhawk said. “I found his horse far from the hunting grounds. If it bolted, it should’ve stopped quickly. I can’t explain it.”

Where was the king’s wound?” Taelor said.

“The left side of his torso…Boars got to his face and arm—”

“Arm?” Commander Taelor demanded. “The king’s armor would have protected his arm.”

“The base of his arm, near the shoulder—”

“Murder indeed. Melazera’s thugs were the first to discover the body?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Continue.”

“If you agree, sir,” Blackhawk said, “we need to write independently of what we see regarding the king’s horse. I’ll also write an account of my observations of the hunting grounds. Each of us should make four signed copies. I’ll keep one, the Commander will keep the second, Lieutenant Mitchett the third, and I’ll take the last copy to the prince. Be swift—”

“No, Major.” Commander Taelor put a hand on Blackhawk’s shoulder. “We will document as you recommend but don’t tell the prince. Not now. He’s untried as a ruler and influenced by Melazera. We must watch and wait until the prince carries that weight for a while. He might react rashly, getting us all killed. Worse, it would imperil the kingdom. Besides, we haven’t identified the perpetrator. And we don’t know all the players.”

“Yes, Commander,” Blackhawk said as the others nodded. It pleased him that Taelor was aware of Melazera’s involvement. “Please be quick. I must return the horse by morning. If I’m gone longer, I’ll be missed, and they’ll silence us all. I couldn’t withstand Melazera’s torture. I’ve seen his work. He’s patient.”

It was midnight before they’d finished. Blackhawk washed the horse and saddle. The Commander explained how to clean the pad and royal trappings in a trough with water, ash, and urine until the blood dissolved away. Then Blackhawk re-tacked the horse and headed back to Farr.

***

Blackhawk circled around the castle at a distance, so it seemed as if he were coming from Farrling Forest.

As long as they’re unafraid of exposure, we’re safe.

He noted who was concerned and who avoided his eyes, adding them to his list of suspects.

Blackhawk found Colonel Lafarge at the stables and reported, “I found the king’s horse wading in a stream far to the south of the hunt area.”

Lafarge praised his initiative.

Chapter 27

Owakar

Owakar tapped through the account of King Edal’s death. Saddened, he continued reading from the Book.

Blackhawk found the king’s horse, but instead of returning him to the royal stable at Farr Castle as Alocrin expected, he rode hard to High Keep. Alocrin sent guardians to observe and report. It seems this one’s affection for King Edal is strong enough for him to risk his life to bring truth to light.

Owakar tingled, thinking of how J’shua must rejoice at his unexpected behavior. Would he ferret out the traitors? Or would they catch and torture him. Melazera would never forgive his betrayal.

[But these speak evil of those things which they know not: but what they know naturally, as brute beasts, in those things they corrupt themselves.]

One day, Gaelib Melazera, the ninth Earl of Lorness, would be brought to justice by his victims.

Sarah

Locke Estate, Lexandria

Sarah smiled, dangling her feet in the garden pond, listening to Melyssa carry on about Kel’shan.

“When I woke up this morning, I remembered being surrounded with flowers and Kel’shan was there. I think it means something. What do you dream, Sarah?

“Well, it is silly. I dream the same dream, but lately I remember more of it. I am carrying a bright sword—”

“Of course, you’d be carrying a sword.” Melyssa giggled. “Everyone thinks it strange that you wear a sword.”

Sarah laughed. “I know. I don’t care. It’s part of me. But this is a different kind of sword, a magical sword. It gives off light. The people I stab with it are healed. Do you think such a sword exists? Perhaps I will go on a quest to find this sword. Oh, but I am not alone. I am a queen and my king is beside me. What do you think?”

Chapter 28

Crispus or David?

Mestelina

Verner Thorgar, the leader of his chieftain’s best warriors, signaled his second to carry on without him. Then he left his hunters to follow the odd man. The clothing the outlander wore seemed familiar but ragged and worn. As were the tales the man told as he walked from village to village sharing the fire in each chieftain’s long house. Tales that Verner heard as a boy from a strange friend of his father’s.

Crispy, Crisp, Cris-something…

The name would not come. It could not be important. Yet, letting his chieftain know of this foreigner’s activities was vital. There were already problems with raiders coming from Freislicht in the east. This man might be gathering information for them, his storytelling merely a ploy.

A day later, Verner Thorgar approached Chief Draven Bjorn. “There’s a man—”

The chieftain cut him off. “Tall, pale hair, dressed in a navy cloak, with a sword on his hip, and a baldric across his chest?”

“That’s correct. How did news of him reach you so quickly?”

“I have a guest. A friend of your father’s, who is seeking that man.”

Verner Thorgar grunted.

“You may remember Daikon Crispus.” Draven Bjorn pointed to an old man dressed as the outlander, surrounded by children in the distance.

Verner Thorgar grunted again.

“Take him to meet this newcomer.” Bjorn put his hand on Thorgar’s shoulder, pointing to Crispus. “Make no bets with him. He’ll win your horse. I still owe him a mare, which you are to take to the newcomer. Her name in his language is Ruby.”

Jonathan

After his all-too-short encounter with Rebekah in late spring, Jonathan left a letter for her with Daikon Crispus. He’d just missed her again. He was perplexed. She’d said she had resources nearby in Caswell. What could she be involved in? She has influence and some great work to do.

Again he had traveled into Mestelina to the tribes there. He shared the Writings and made more friends, establishing the family of the God of Truth in the West.

He’d heard of the raids across the border—from Freislicht into Mestelina. The soldiers of his homeland were the aggressors, which worried him. Either King Edal had not heard his words or was unable—or unwilling—to act upon them.

The Mestels still wanted peace.

Freislicht was fomenting war. A war that more and more Mestel chieftains were likely to give them. His task was to prevent that.

Then the news came. King Edal was dead, and Jonathan knew it was time to return home.

Chapter 29 537

Rebekah

Farr Castle

Like every other peddler, trader, and merchant, Rebekah had come to Farr Castle to watch the festivities of the Royal Annual Hunt and take advantage of the opportunities that arose when so many gathered together. However, she wasn’t interested in sales but in collecting and disseminating information.

Each year she accidentally encountered either Commander Peter Taelor or Colonel Patrik Gonnels. Then, as the commander’s kinsman or the colonel’s friend, they would have dinner, appear to get drunk, and exchange stories interspersed with intelligence reports late into the night.

The most recent special order from Peter Taelor stated he had duties that kept him at High Keep, so she was on the lookout for Patrik. However, it was early in the evening, so she ambled through a nearby market.

She kept an eye out for certain hard-to-find objects that Licht Gegen needed, the foremost of which was weapons. She couldn’t purchase them in bulk, nor could she buy them everywhere she went without drawing attention.

In the temporary marketplace established on the outskirts of Farr Castle, wares were on display that were not seen at any other time of year. Amongst them were Esthlani short swords. The foreign merchant appeared rather dejected.

“Why the long face?” Rebekah asked.

“I listened to my cousin. ‘Aodh,’ he says, ‘go to Farr Castle. Make a killing at their Annual Hunt Fair. You’ll sell more there in a week than anywhere else in Freislicht in a year.’ Sheisse! That last might be true. I’ve made a few sales, but the others selling swords derided me for wasting my time. No one wants our humble weapons here.”

“Well, every merchant wants to undermine the other’s confidence.” Rebekah chuckled. “I sell plows. Some of the tricks my competitors have tried…” She shook her head.

“I suppose it’s the same everywhere,” Aodh grumbled.

“Mind you,” she picked up one blade and examined its workmanship, “I can think of several farmers and their wives who’d think these fine weapons.” She grinned. “Perhaps I could buy you a drink, and we could chat about a profitable arrangement?”

Aodh scratched his chin, then nodded. “I—”

The herald’s shout drowned him out. “Hear ye, hear ye. Be it known: King Edal is dead, gored by a rogue boar. Long live King Sagen!”

Rebekah gasped.

Would the new king protect the people? He was Jon’s good friend. Would he support Licht Gegen?

The listening crowd chanted the new king’s name, but their cheers were weak and unenthusiastic. Shopkeepers and merchants began covering their stalls. No one would sell today. No one would insult King Edal’s memory by doing so. The only people to profit would be tavern keepers.

“That drink sounds like a good idea.” Aodh threw tarps over his wagon. Then he turned to a red-haired lad. “Aaren, look after things. I’ll be back later.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said and went back to whittling.

“Bring one of your blades, so I can examine it,” Rebekah suggested, wondering how the king had really died. She’d bet half her fortune there’d been foul play. She’d bet the other half she could predict the gossip that’d be flying around by nightfall.

Chapter 30

Sagen

Sagen’s eyes followed a hawk as he sat on the window seat, a spot he hadn’t moved from for hours. He hadn’t attended the hunt. After an argument with Gaelib, he’d decided not to go. Instead, he had roamed the quiet castle and the gardens, pondering the best way to respond to the steward’s uncharacteristic, barbed words.

Guilt consumed the prince.

I would have saved him. Together, we’d have killed those boar.

He stared out the window, unable to cry.

Through all the arrangements for the funeral and the coronation, he was mute, numbly following Gaelib from one meeting to the next. He only nodded or shook his head.

Sagen was afraid to assume the throne. Although he was thirty-five, he wasn’t ready.

Father should still be alive, should have lived many more years.

Everyone told him the feeling would pass, that the grief would become bearable, that it just required time. He sent them away.

He’d not prayed for years. “Father God, forgive me. I’ve forsaken you. Help me; I drown in guilt. Sycophants surround me. Who can I trust? Show me, in J’shua’s name; I beseech you.”

Blackhawk

The castle halls channeled a cool breeze as Blackhawk watched quietly, completing his guard duties. All the usual suspects strutted and performed their roles as expected. Under Gaelib Melazera’s control, his officials and servants of Farr Castle hummed along as if nothing had happened except for an abundance of quiet voices and furtive glances.

That Melazera was behind King Edal’s assassination was ever clearer to Blackhawk.

Several of the new king’s closest friends suddenly left Farr Castle to attend to family matters. This further isolated Sagen while increasing his dependence on Melazera.

Blackhawk couldn’t stop what was happening, nor could he act openly. Instead, he undermined several of Melazera’s pawns using tactics he’d learned from the earl himself as his squire.

For example, a moneylender on Melazera’s payroll found himself inundated by people demanding repayment of their investments after they learned the fellow was skimming their profits. And a prominent courtier found himself without funds or political backing after his wife and her wealthy family learned of his repeated infidelities.

Most dangerous of all, Blackhawk set himself up to be accused of being one of Melazera’s agents. His aim was simple: to control the stories circling him. So that any future actions attributed to him would be easily dismissed as falsehoods.

Only days later, he was summoned to his commanding officer’s rooms late at night. Entering, he stood at attention.

Commander Taelor spoke to Major Blackhawk, his face showing his disappointment. “I’ve heard some disturbing news. Things that I find especially troubling given what you brought to my attention about the late king’s death.”

Blackhawk frowned. “I’m aware that there’s been some gossip about me lately. I usually ignore such things. Is this about Fortuch blaming me for his demotion to lieutenant again or his banishment to the outskirts of Farr? Or perhaps about my excessive gambling winnings? Maybe it’s someone who’s taken offense at my being a major so young? Of course,” he mused, “it could be one of the more insane rumors.”

“Such as…?” Taelor’s tone was still neutral, but his face had become inquisitive.

“Let’s see…how extreme do you want?”

“Get carried away, Major.”

“As you command, sir. The more common of those rumors suggest I’m secretly spying for Gaelib Melazera. Others suggest I was King Edal’s agent. There are tales that I’ve acted as an assassin…for one or both of them.” Blackhawk snorted out a laugh. “As if the late king used hired killers. He was a good man.”

“That he was. Is there more?”

“Oh, yes. I seem to attract all sorts of unlikely speculation, such as, I’ve bribed and blackmailed people, ignoring the fact that I have neither the funds nor access to anything more than gossip. Once, I heard I am Earl Gaelib Melazera’s bastard son, despite there being no physical resemblance between us except the color of our hair. What else? Oh yes, that I’m Caileagh Melazera’s lover, and have had her in my hand ever since. Should I continue?”

“Is there more?” Taelor chuckled.

“It gets ever more ridiculous. For instance, I’m Gaelib Melazera’s adopted son. Yet if that were true, his patronage would have opened doors for me that have remained shut in my face. Not to mention that, as he has no heir, my status would free him from what must be endless harassment from relatives to produce an heir or nominate one of their sons…if he can’t or won’t.”

Taelor shook his head as a smile spread across his face. “This talk did not go as I expected or feared. If you’d given me the slightest reason to link you to Melazera, my only option would have been permanently assigning you to the remotest outpost. As it is,” he gestured to a seat, “will you have a drink? Are there yet more?”

“That depends entirely on how debauched your interest is. They have said things about me that…let’s get drunk first, shall we? I don’t like to discuss them sober.”

Taelor rose and fetched a bottle and two glasses. “Now you really have me intrigued…”