Sunday, February 11, 2018

Broken Puzzle.....

It was a long night and no one slept. Not for a single moment. Each time thoughts towards sleep came to one of the four, another would have a question, most of which could not be answered, at least not in any fashion that either made sense or connected any dots in a meaningful way. Dawn had crested in the streets and one question DID loom above any others to that point. Why had no one heard anything that had happened the night before or seen the "man who watched it all"? Nathaniel had gone to bring back something for the morning meal from the merchants and had asked the innkeeper about any sort of disturbance or large figure of any kind, man or otherwise who swore there had been no one who came in from the front or the rear of the building after the man from the well, whom they did remember, but only vaguely. No raised voices, no final declaration of defiance, nothing.

There was the matter of Julien's body, which both boys were determined to see buried properly, but how could their presence in all of this be understood, let alone explained? Eric, who was very often the type of man to be counted on to tell the truth and accept whatever consequences came along with it, was unusually quiet that morning, but eventually determined that something had to be done. He sent Thaddeus to the guardhouse at the gates, who, in turn, sent a small group of soldiers to aid in taking Julien's body for preparation. All of this left one last detail to contend with; confronting the king.

Andrew, being inconsolable after Julien took his sword, HIS sword, to put himself to death with, left shortly before everyone else, bound for his quarters, where he would stay for the next couple of days, neither eating nor taking visitors. He toggled between anger, sadness, bitterness, and above all else solitude.

Eric, while disturbed that Julien had put himself to the blade, understood what would drive a man so desperate to avoid such a fate as he saw coming. Even so, however, he paced a while in the room where Julien's body had once lain, composing his thoughts before making his way toward the throne room, where his father would no doubt be by this time. The castle guards, while surprised to see the prince outside the castle at all, let him in without question. As he approached the oversized double doors leading into the massive throne room, the guards there stood aside as well, allowing Eric to pass by.

Both king and queen sat in their respective thrones, discussing with the head merchants the plans for the opening ceremony that night, when Raul caught sight of his son. His face darkened as Eric closed the distance, his countenance downward.

"Thank you all for coming, I will attend to you all in a couple of hours, but there is a matter that simply can't be put off. Guard, please show the men to the dining hall, and have the cooks put out a spread for them while my son and I talk a while." The guards bowed and the kings' guests took their leave. When the doors had been closed, Raul stood, his gaze fixed and fiery. Celeste, seeing his fury, stood as well, putting a hand in his shoulder. At the touch of his wife, Raul's demeanor calmed, though only slightly.

"What in the world were you thinking?! I told you to stay in your quarters and you went into town? What kind of son does that? You deliberately disobeyed me and disrespected me TO MY FACE! You swore to me you would abide by decision!"

Eric's face remained downcast and he stood silent, waiting for his father to allow an answer.

"And to top it all off, you managed to become entangled in this business with Julien?! This is beyond my understanding, boy. You have made this VERY complicated. There will be consequences, rest assured of that. Have you anything to say?"

Clearing his throat, Eric's mouth defied him, leaving him standing to endure the rest of Raul's words. As Raul paced in front of him, Eric's face remained down, knowing something had to be done, but having no earthly idea what that might be.

Raul sized up his son, careful not to give any indications of either how he knew of the events of the previous evening nor what had come leading up to those events inside the castle. When he was content he could glean nothing more from the surface, his fiery gaze softened a bit to what might have appeared to be a kind of concern. He put his hand on his son's shoulder, leading him back to his throne and positioning his son down to one knee.

"Tell me what happened."

Believing that his answer could mean everything to what happened next, Eric once again cleared his throat and he told of he and Andrew's plan to help with setting up for the opening ceremonies and how he had no intention of being out on the street during the procession, which he wasn't, but also how he was convinced that that condition would meet his instructions for that reason. Raul wasn't convinced.

"While I can appreciate your creative approach to my request, you did NOT follow it. My request was that you would be in your quarters for the procession because I purposefully did NOT tell you when that would take place just to make sure you wouldn't be anywhere near there during that time in case of something going wrong."

"Like one of them escaping? Like Julien? Because you had him in your dungeon and you didn't want us to find out?" Eric's eyes began to tear up. Raul, knowing where this might lead, mockingly recoiled in shock, though not so much it would appear fake.

"I don't know what you THINK you know, but I had no idea Julien was ever IN my dungeon in the first place. The day he went missing, I hired a single mercenary who my Artisan trusted and he found Julien without my knowledge, bringing him back and HIDING him there without consulting anyone and, if THAT weren't enough, he remained even after the contract had been fulfilled to see to Julien's food and clothing. Once in for the first week, one of the guards was instructed that the orders to do so had come from me and so Julien was processed like any other traitor in that wing and no one ever let me in on that process. However, this event with him turning up the way he did has made me look like I'm to blame, at least in part, where I am not. THAT shall not stand. I will talk with the Artisan and his mercenary will be dealt with, I assure you. In the meantime, I want you to go with your mother so that the both of you can try and bring Andrew out of his quarters. Then, in a day or two, we will see to a proper burial, after all, he was one of my best. There is no need to treat him as a traitor for responding to bad information. I might have done the same in his place. I hope you will have some ideas about how to honor your teacher, sparing no expense from me."

Eric looked stunned. Raul, seeing the astonishment, addressed it immediately.

"Yes, I know about how Julien died at the blade from his scabbard. That kind of thing does terrible damage to a mind if one is left to their own devices. I can't imagine what he must be going through right now. And yes, son, I did say he was one of my best. Did he ever tell you he was with me when my battalion returned with only a handful in its ranks? The story he told you about that day was from a soldier whose brother was killed beside him and he was only barely able to make it out alive. This man had been sent home to try and work out his feelings and such beside his family, but he was more broken than you know. He should never have been to see him, in spite of his curiosities to that effect. What happened that day was the destruction of form and there was no reasonable explanation for it except for that wizard, who will simply remain in his domain and leave me to mine. Now, if we've covered all of your concerns here, I am needed by the shopkeepers and merchants."

Eric shook his head, in spite of his misgivings, and looked to Celeste, who put a hand on his shoulder, leading him out of the room. When they were in the corridors and the doors had shut behind, the Artisan came from a shadowy place behind the throne.

"Are you convinced now, sire? If he should learn anything else, he may rebel, which would put you in an unenviable position. Even worse if the two princes are in this together."

Raul shifted in place, his hand on his chin, thumbing his well trimmed beard and considering his options. After a few moments, he took a breath of concession.

"Watch them both, but do not confront either one of them. If they should suspect you, they will tie you around my neck and that noose will be impossible to remove without taking you out of the equation and you know what that means."

The Artisan bowed. "I shall see to the task myself."

Outside the doors in the corridor, Celeste took Eric a longer path towards Andrew's quarters. When she was content of no prying ears, she spoke.

"Eric, I am so sorry for what you both saw. It was something I had absolutely no idea would happen as I thought the guards might have killed him outside the castle and left him in the woods. When his quarters came up empty, I was fooled. I should have known it couldn't have been so simple. He told you I asked for his research?"

He nodded. Celeste turned again in the corridor, taking another path.

"And he told you about my part in his letter? He told me through a source that a letter was written for you and that if he were taken away for this, that letter would find you. I did my best to protect you, my boy." She leaned in and kissed his forehead. I'm so sorry you had to be there for the end." Tears rushed out as she embraced Eric, who had only rarely felt such vulnerability in his mother. He returned the embrace and let the tears come.

After a few minutes, Celeste was able to collect herself and the two continued their walk. As they began to draw near to Andrew's quarters, Eric had one final question.

"What was going on during the whole mountain thing? Julien told us that your most painful day was during that time."

Celeste stopped suddenly with deadly seriousness. "Julien knew nothing of that time because I never told him and, honestly, I'm still not in a place where I can talk about it. When that day came, I have not experienced a thing as painful in the moment or agonizing in the days that have come since. One day I will tell you, Eric, but that day isn't today, nor will it be tomorrow."

Eric nodded in understanding and the two came to Andrew's door. Eric went in first, followed by Celeste. Andrew sat at the windowsill, his tear-soaked shirt hanging loosely and swaying in the afternoon breezes. Eric put a hand on his shoulder. Andrew said nothing nor moved in any way, neither positive nor negative. Celeste hugged him from behind, kissing his cheek as she did so, allowing her tears to mix with his.

"I'm so sorry, my beautiful boy. I wish I could have stopped this from happening,"  she whispered into his ear.

"Brother...please don't stay here by yourself too long. I beg of you. This kind of thing will destroy you and I can't have that in my life. Andrew..." When no answer came and his demeanor didn't change after an hour, Eric and Celeste left the way they had come, separating to go their own ways at the corridor leading back to the throne room and Eric to his quarters.

On the way, Wallace, the kings cook was heading towards the queens chambers with food and he tripped up the stairs, spilling the tray in spectacular fashion. The guards pacing the hall rushed to his aid, but Eric was closer, reaching him first. Wallace had always been kind and especially thoughtful on birthdays or other holidays and took care to make something special for the two brothers on such occasions, which was never lost on the brothers and each went out of their way to greet the man if they ever came near the kitchens. When he grabbed his ankle, Eric knew he had turned it and helped him back to his feet. He then instructed the guards to have some of the kitchen staff deal with the plates and such while he took Wallace to the infirmary to have his ankle treated.

After successfully leaving the cook with the good doctor, he made his way back to his quarters, wanting nothing more to do with the rest of the day, only to turn in and hope tomorrow would be better. As he reached his door, he opened the knob, walking in heavily and, once in, turned, heaving himself at the door with a great sigh to close it again. As he sighed, however, a slight ping came through his shirt pocket. Eric looked down, and there, nestled neatly inside his breast pocket, was a brass key.

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