Buried Treasures....

Eric sat on his bed, pondering about the key and what secrets and treasures it may hold. It had been three days since the key had come from his lapel pocket and the questions contained within this little thing had multiplied in his mind, twisting him into knots. Had Julien truly escaped, would this key ever have been used or might he have simply vanished into the wind, only making contact when the king was sure he would not return? Were these "borrowed" effects of intrinsic value, invaluable to some greater mystery? Could the kingdom afford to live without these trinkets and, if not, why had there not been a more obvious search conducted for them when Julien was claimed missing by the king? Judging by the mess of bruises and gashes broken while they tended to him, Eric guessed at the last question, at least in part. The questions swam around in his head, mixing in an overwhelming current, but the biggest question, at least in his mind, was if Julien had undergone such horrendous torture at the hands of the Throne, what's to stop HIM from such a fate should he be caught with the chest's contents?

The most pressing question hinged on a couple of factors that he surmised from his years of being a watchful observer, studying his surroundings and whoever might cross them. In days long ahead of his time, psychology and game theory would be the closest approximation of such a study. In a roundabout way of saying it, his curiosity centered around whether or not the king would post a guard or an observer at the door to Julien's quarters now that he was dead. If so, it would indicate that he absolutely expected someone to retrieve what he had never returned. If not, there were more clandestine ways to ascertain as to whether or not a person or persons had entered the quarters. In truth, Julien was no different from the princes in that their quarters consisted of such vast space and multiple rooms to explore that, as Julien told them in the inn, one would have no way of finding this chest or anything else hidden unless they knew exactly where to look and the king now had reason to bide his time. Eric had no doubt the quarters would be watched, but no one would look twice at a close student simply wandering the room in the process of their grief.

As he got up, Eric grabbed a light robe, as the the day had grown a bit cool and reached for the door; on the other side was Andrew, hand raised to knock. Startled, Eric jumped a bit and then sidestepped, motioning for his brother to enter.

"I've been worried about you, brother. Are you alright?"

Andrew walked past, almost as emotionless as he'd been a few days before. He made his way towards the desk near the window, pulled out the chair, and sat facing the middle of the room. Eric closed the distance, sitting on the foot chest in front of his bed, which was near enough to make conversation easy to mitigate without having to raise a voice to be heard. Patience would pay off here, Eric was convinced as the last time he had paid the visit to Andrew, not even an acknowledgement had been made his way. Andrew waited a long while, taking great pains in being clear before he said anything at all. When he was sure he had the right way to begin, he spoke.

"What does mother know about that night?" Andrew asked Eric.
"What do you mean? If you're referring to the event itself, I told her what happened in the room, but no details about our conversation for that time, per se. Why do you ask?"
"Because I had been having nightmares for weeks before all of this happened; real ones, with the kind of details you could only know if you were there. I know all of it, Eric; I know how he got out. I knew about the hand and fingers- all of it before he said anything." Andrew looked terrified.
"Wait...you're saying you knew he would be there?!" Eric grabbed another chair and put it almost face to face so as to not to raise his voice, fearing prying ears.
"Are you serious?" Andrew nodded.
"Okay. Can I ask a couple of questions? If you knew he would be there that day, is that why you had the room waiting at the inn and why you suggested having Nathaniel and Thaddeus come along with us?" Again, Andrew nodded.
"And you knew he'd talk about the key and the chest and his torture?" Once more, this time with hesitation, Andrew nodded.

Eric stood up, pacing, visibly shaken at the knowledge. This changed his view of the events and he was relieved he only knew this on the other side, fearing what he might have allowed to slip from his mouth when he told Raul of the events of that night. Now, he was absolutely sure that not only was Julien's quarters a rigged explosive, metaphorically speaking, but it might be possible, even likely that Raul would have agents recording their days' events from the time Eric made his proclamation to the king forward. It was that fact which was more chilling as it meant that whatever treasures may be inside answer far more questions that he'd been pondering than he ever thought possible, but further, that those answers may be out of reach, at least for the time being.

"Oh boy, you have no idea what you stopped by coming here, Andrew."
"Yes I do, Eric." Andrew looked up at his brother and, without any hesitation, Eric was certain he did at that.
"So what do we do? Do we just forget about it? Leave it all buried? There are answers in there, Andrew!"
"I know, Eric, but what's more valuable, answers or keeping your hands and feet? Whatever our next move, it can't be from here. You know this." He did, but even so, what kind of move would they be making from so far? It was then that he considered mother's house in the village. They could make for there, using Andrew's "survival guilt" as an excuse to leave the castle for a time. Long enough, perhaps, to give the hotbed a while to cool.

"Moving into the village?" Raul asked the following morning. "Why? Surely there must be another way to move this grief along here in the city."
Celeste leaned over to Raul, whispering into his ear, most likely an admonition to let the boys go under a condition. Eric was more certain after Raul took a moment or two to reflect on the words before responding.
"I will allow this request on two conditions. First, I will send along a message to the housekeeper, sealed with my signet that will be untampered and carried by my courier ahead of you. And second, you will take Thaddeus and Nathaniel along to guard you. I don't trust the roads into and out of the village there, no matter how well traveled or steadfast your mother claims the residents are. You have until the end of the summer. By then, let's put this grievance behind us, shall we?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." Andrew had held a single knee for the better part of an hour and he never thought it possible for a single part of his body to hurt so much without the process of losing it, but wonders never cease as the king was allowing them to leave. He turned to do just that when he was stopped by his father.

"Wait, son." Raul had risen from his throne and made his way to his son's side. "I'm sorry about all of this, Andrew. I know about the sword, son. It's a terrible thing what happened. I've seen it a number of times and it sticks with you. The event, I mean. I assure you, though as I did your brother that the mercenary who took him away under my nose will be brought to justice. In the meantime, though, please stay until the burial tomorrow, it would be a shame to miss out on the ceremony your brother and mother have planned out in your absence." Andrew nodded and Raul gave him an embrace which was more cold than he might have otherwise expected, especially since his dreams painted a very different picture of the man he called 'father'.