TWO HEADS TWO SPIKES (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga) (23 page)

“How did you get out alive? We heard that everyone died,” Ruxin said to Brehan.

“Well, I wanted to get Mariah out of the action so I took her over into the woods and I should have just left with her right then, but I didn’t. I wanted to be the hero and save both Duke Colbert and his daughter. So I went back into the action and during heavy combat in which we were grossly outnumbered, I heard that our father went down. I mean your father, your husband. So I went to rescue Mariah only to find that she was not in the place I had left her. I failed to protect both of them.”

“Don’t you dare think that way. You are part of this family and we love you. Pray tell, did you actually see Jon or Mariah dead?” Camelle wondered.

“Neither. For all I know they are both alive. But the call did ring out that Duke Colbert was dead,” Brehan responded as he lowered his head.

“That is some hope, I suppose,” Camelle said before breaking down again.

After consoling her for a few moments, Ruxin spoke up, “Well, we need to figure out what we are going to do after the incident.”

“What incident?” Brehan queried.

“We were infiltrated by one of the King’s men and he tried to kill our mother. If it was not for Riceros sleeping in her room, who knows what could have happened,” Ruxin answered.

Brehan’s eyes shifted to Riceros. Just from the look, the young boy could feel how proud the knight was of him.

Count Sproul interjected, “I think all of you should leave Mattingly until these dark storm clouds blow over.”

“I worry not about the King. Unless he is using tricks, he is powerless,” Ruxin stated.

“Why don’t you take the Duchess to Waters Edge? She has family there that can protect her. And from there you boys should go as far as the waters will oblige,” the Count advised the family.

“I will go nowhere. I will stay and fight for my father, my family and our flag bearers. But Count Sproul is right, maybe we should split up, especially after the murder attempt,” Ruxin announced confidently.

Camelle broke down again, drained from this new possibility of a further breakup of her family.

It finally hit Riceros like a sledgehammer. No one in the room really knew if they were going to see each other again after a couple of days. About a week ago everything had seemed fine in Mattingly, but seven short days had wreaked intense havoc on the Colbert family.

Camelle drew herself together just enough to say, “Boys, I have to talk to Brehan for a bit in private, please.”

“If you need me for anything, just call on me, my Duchess,” Count Sproul said as he left the room.

On the way out Riceros scribbled something on the black board and showed it to Ruxin.

“I need to warn you about something,” the board said.

He only hoped his brother’s arrogance wouldn’t stop him from being receptive to a grown up message from an eleven year old kid.

More than a week had passed since the slaying of her one and only love. Elisa was still sitting up in her room, sobbing. Other than mandatory social obligations, she hid from all the backstabbing foxes. She really had only seen the Lonely Widows who stopped in to clean her room daily.

She held a piece of dragon glass in her shaky right hand as she thought about the Queen’s warning that nobody can trust the King. She pressed the fang-shaped obsidian onto her left wrist for the twentieth time since sunrise. It was almost afternoon and Brehan Castaway consumed her thoughts. They were supposed to be together until the end, against all odds. Instead he was slaughtered by the King’s men on that rotten, sweltering day that had been branded into her memory.

Elisa heard that everyone from Mattingly had died in the scuffle. She couldn’t even look at the King or his guards without feeling utterly disgusted.

You die, my heart dies, and a person without a heart is already dead
.

That message had been pounding in her head ever since she caught wind of the commotion in the castle and heard the horrific news. She had to pretend that she was sorrowful for the fallen Fox Chapel knights when she really wanted slow, painful deaths for all of them.

This is it, my heart is already dead
.
Ali-Gare had the right idea. Live with your love, die with your love.

She steadied the glass over her wrist and dug in. It stung hard as blood started to trickle out. A sharp knock on the door made her drop the dragon glass and she watched as it shattered on the floor upon impact. She quickly swept it under her bed and sprinted to the door. It was the Queen and Sir Anderley. She hoped they wouldn’t notice that she had been crying.

“Hello there, where have you been hiding?” The Queen playfully asked as she entered Elisa’s room and continued, “Are they still taking good care of you?”

“Yes, yes everything is fine. I just thought I should stay out of the way with all that is going on,” Elisa said while looking at the ground.

“Child, there is always something going on in this castle, but why are you lying to me? You can tell me the truth you know,” the Queen stated with a friendly look on her face.

“What do you mean? That is the truth.” Elisa said with a slight stutter.

“Stop right there. I am an expert in lying. Need I remind you that I am married to the King of Donegal? Listen I am your friend first, family second and Queen last. Tell me what is bothering you,” she said as she closed the door and returned to Elisa.

The two sat on the bed and the Queen put her arm around Elisa and started rubbing her back lightly.

“You promise…you will not tell anybody?” Elisa cautiously asked.

“I promise, now out with it,” smiled the Queen.

“Alright, I suppose I must tell someone. I grew up in our castle with a boy named Brehan Castaway. And, well, he went on to be a knight of Mattingly, so...”

It took a minute to click in the Queen’s head before she abruptly said, “Oh, oh, no, my dear.”

She now wrapped both arms around the young lady, squeezing tightly. “Are you sure he was killed? I heard some of them got away.”

Elisa bounced up from the bed, breaking the Queen’s embrace. Hope awoke within her heart as Elisa looked at the Queen and asked, “Who said that?”

“Several people actually, maybe four or five,” the Queen informed her.

Energy coursed through the heart and soul of Elisa Wamhoff. It was as if her heart was running again, chasing love.

If anyone could escape, it would be Brehan. I know he could do it
.

Elisa got dressed and went to the Queen’s room to play castle cards. The Queen had beautiful, hand-painted cards for different leisure games. A few hours of the card-game called spades buoyed Elisa’s sunken spirits.

When she got back to her room, a man with long red hair awaited her.

“Hello,” she said suspiciously.

“Well hello, my lady. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ali-Samuel Wamhoff.” He bowed deeply and returned to normal form.

He stood a bit shorter than Elisa and his face was bright red.

“I have heard of you and your return. My name is Elisa Bur…I am sorry, Elisa Wamhoff,” she said while shaking her head in embarrassment. Now her face turned as auburn as her visitor’s.

“I have heard of you as well, my lady. May I have a few words with you?” He exposed his dirty teeth in a smile and Elisa could smell his nasty breath as she opened her door.

“Of course, come in, what is it you would like to discuss?” she cautiously asked her visitor.

“I just wanted to meet you and ask you how you feel about your marriage with Ali-Varis,” he coolly said.

“Oh, it has just been great…”

He cut her off. “Stop. You are a terrible liar. You really need to work on that if you plan to stay alive in the Capitol. And I plan to have you stay alive.”

“What, I don’t understand…,” she was stopped again.

“Shhh, shhh,” he shushed, while putting a dirty finger over her lips.

“Just listen. Wouldn’t you be much happier if you were married to Ali-Ster?” he questioned with a wink for enticement.

A big smile came over Elisa’s face, finally prompting Ali-Samuel to remove his hand. Ali-Ster was a much safer option for her to stay in the capitol. She still hoped that Brehan was alive, but if not, she didn’t want to return to her father’s castle in Burkeville.

He looked directly at her with serious, blue eyes and said, “We have a plan in order. But the first step is to get Ali-Varis out of the way.”

“How are we going to do that?” she wondered.

“We have to first convince Ali-Ster. We want to have our future King aware of our plans. That is where you come in. You need to paint Ali-Varis as a monster. Tell Ali-Ster about how Ali-Varis hits you, for instance,” he said.

She cut him off, “But he doesn’t hit me,” she softly uttered.

Ali-Samuel open-hand slapped Elisa across her left cheek, knocking her down.

“Why did you do that?” she asked before bursting into tears.

“Oh no, why did Ali-Varis do that? Sacrifice will be needed to pull this off. Here, let me help.”

Ali-Samuel held out his left hand. As he pulled her up, he smacked her in the same exact spot, dropping her again. Elisa fell back down, crying on the floor.

“Do you believe that damned Ali-Varis? Maybe we should do something about that out of control halfwit, don’t you think? I am sorry, but the bruises had to look natural, so I couldn’t warn you in advance,” he said as he rubbed the handle of his sword. “I am a very serious individual with very serious motives. If you plan to stay alive, you need to listen to me carefully and do exactly as I say.”

“Alright,” Elisa hesitantly agreed through her sniffling.

She couldn’t feel the left side of her face anymore. She wanted to run to somebody for help, but who could she turn to? Elisa didn’t know anyone who she could really trust in the castle. The Queen was the only one that came to mind. But she didn’t even know if she could trust the overly-kind Queen. A trapped feeling came over Elisa as Ali-Samuel started to lay out his plan. Her face throbbed as she paid close attention. This had been a day of lows and highs and lows again. Elisa Wamhoff’s plan to rule the kingdom of Donegal with Brehan Castaway was dissolving right before her.

“So, he is mobilizing to move south, huh?” the High Holy Leader posed as he sipped his red wine.

“I suppose nobody could talk him out of it,” replied Sir Penrose.

“I would have tried but it isn’t my business to intervene in these matters,” Father Enroy said.

No, you only intervene when you want more gold from the King
.

The old man leaned back in his throne-like chair as Penrose stared at the jade. “Are you alright, my son?”

“Yes, just tired it seems,” Penrose said with a yawn.

“Did they find out who killed Otto Cuthbart?” the Father asked as he filled his wine glass again.

“No, and it doesn’t look likely that they will. He had too many enemies and with everyone present in the city for the wedding, it could be almost anyone in the land. The city watch hasn’t a clue to go on,” Penrose said.

“Yes he did have a big, nasty mouth for such a small body, that one. Not many spoke a gracious word about him,” the Father agreed.

See, he understands too
.

“So do you think it is foolish to rush Mattingly?” Father Enroy sank into his chair a bit more and started showing the effects of the wine.

“I think it is a bad move. All the gold comes from Mattingly right now,” Penrose stated.

“I know,” cut in the Father, “Mattingly gold built most of this building we sit in.”

“You cannot cripple yourself and expect to walk. The outskirts of Falconhurst are in dire need of heavy maintenance. This war will kill citizens and hurt the upkeep around the castle. War is sacrifice, Father, and I don’t believe the people of Donegal are ready for that right now,” Penrose pronounced.

“I would have to agree. I think it is a terrible idea of misguided revenge,” the Father replied.

We know you preach it, but you don’t practice sacrifice. Josevius would be ashamed of his High Holy Leader
.

“And now our King is sending you off somewhere?” the puzzled Father asked.

“He said there are some pressing problems elsewhere that require my services. I am not at liberty to discuss more than that, but I wanted a blessing for my journey,” Penrose said.

“Of course, my son,” as the Father started the prayer, Penrose’s mind shifted to other matters.

He was relieved that the voices in his head had been silent for a while. There was an occasional demand or two but it wasn’t the constant badgering he was used to. Penrose was leaving tomorrow and didn’t know when he would return. It was part of the demands of being on King’s Guard; it didn’t always mean just protecting the King. Sometimes it meant carrying out the King’s orders and keeping silent about it. Even Father Enroy respected it and didn’t pry.

The Father finished his voyage blessing for Penrose and then said, “I have something for your trip, Penrose.”

He wandered over to a desk near the corner of the room. He went around behind it and came back after a few minutes.

“This is a piece of the loin cloth that Josevius, our God of Sacrifice, wore. It will guide you if times seem tough and remind you that it takes sacrifice to rise to the heavens,” the Father said with a smile.

“Thank you, my Father, I shall cherish this relic and remember your message. I shall spread the word of the Faith on my journey when the chance permits. Now I must be off,” he stated.

“Alright, my son. Be safe and I will see you upon your return,” the Father told Penrose as he left.

He shuffled down the steps of the church, feeling personally protected by the Gods. Penrose liked the fundamental roots of religion, but did not approve of what it had transformed into. Men chose to go into the field for money, not to teach, preach and help others. Penrose headed down the Walk of Kings and noticed a man stumbling around. As he got closer, the man stared at Penrose through the moonlight.

“What are you doing here?” Penrose demanded.