The Empty Throne, page 14
part #2 of The Blackwater Chronicles Series
Addwyn gasped and released Owen’s hand. He looked at his wife. She had dropped back in her seat, a hand over her mouth. He was stunned beyond belief.
Owen had thought the news might be that one of his soldiers had been killed in a skirmish with some bandits or that the chest of gold, meant as payment to Grim’s Shadows, had been stolen, but not this. Owen considered an attack on the House Greenwood as an attack on House Redstone. They were family, after all.
‘So many,’ Soren murmured.
So, who had perpetrated this monstrous slaughter? A mere bunch of bandits wouldn’t have attacked Forest Keep. Owen’s eyes settled on the Lieutenant.
‘Tell me exactly what you saw.’
Lieutenant Oates nodded and gave a full report from the moment they had arrived at Hampstead Heath, describing the smouldering ruins of the town, the stinking pile of bodies in the courtyard of Forest Keep, and the pikes. He also relayed the stories of some survivors, in particular the Chamberlain of Forest Keep, Elbert Tanke, who personally witnessed the deaths of Lord Gruffydd and his family.
By the end of the report, Owen was livid. Again, he looked at his wife. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she wasn’t sobbing. At least Gruffydd’s family weren’t completely wiped out. His daughter Renata had been here at Darkmoor visiting Addwyn and her grandparents, Lord Griffen and Lady Riona. She had been meant to return several weeks ago but, at her father’s request, had stayed on to try and convince her grandparents to come back to Forest Keep for the winter and see their newest great-grandchild. They would now return, but not under the circumstances they would have wanted.
Owen’s mind raced, and he quickly surmised that this tragedy in the Greenhavens had occurred around the same time as his encounter at the Red Pass, where Prince Leto was lost. Regan's son had led that detachment of Greythorpe soldiers, Owen had recognised Cedric at the bridge, even from a distance. At the time, Owen had been confident he and his men had enough of a start ahead of any pursuit from the capitol, but now it made sense. You couldn’t outrun a raven. Cedric must have come from Hampstead Heath, not the capitol!
His thoughts turned to Princess Melina. Owen’s message must have reached the Noble Guard at Whitehall, and the princess had escaped, but what had happened after that? Did Greythorpe now have the King’s only surviving child?
‘Where is this Chamberlain?’ Owen inquired, his voice grim.
He wanted to question the man himself.
‘He refused to come with us,’ the Lieutenant said. ‘He insisted on cleaning up in preparation for the return of Lord Griffin.’
‘Did Greythorpe’s men find the princess?’ Owen asked. ‘Was she taken back to the capitol?’
Lieutenant Oates’ already sombre face turned ashen and shook his head.
‘The princess is dead.’
Another collective gasp sounded from everyone within earshot. The massacre of his wife’s family was a heinous tragedy that would not go unanswered, but this revelation hit Owen like a club. He slumped back in his seat, and silence descended on the Great Hall. Everyone looked to Owen, who, for a few moments, could not speak. He glanced at his valet, who confirmed the news with a solemn nod. He looked back to the Lieutenant.
‘Are you certain?’ Owen said.
The soldier nodded, stepped aside, and indicated the young woman behind him. She looked vaguely familiar.
‘This is Constance Penti,’ he said. ‘Princess Melina’s lady-in-waiting.’
Now her name had been spoken, the recognition was complete. Owen beckoned her closer. She moved to the base of the steps and curtsied. Her face was pale, but she held her head high.
‘Constance,’ Owen said. ‘You were the last one to see the princess alive?’
After a few moments, the girl nodded, her face a mask of sadness.
‘Did you see her killed?’ he said.
‘My lord, we saw –’ Coen began before Owen raised his hand, cutting him off.
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe what he’d been told, but he wanted to know from someone who had seen it with their own eyes.
‘I want to hear it from her.’
He looked at the girl, who again nodded.
‘Speak, girl.’
‘Y … Yes, my lord,’ Constance said.
‘You witnessed the death of Princess Melina?’
Constance nodded again, and her chin began to quiver. Owen was about to demand the girl speak again but felt a hand on his arm. Addwyn leaned towards him, tears still in her eyes.
‘Not here,’ she said, her voice raspy.
Owen glanced at the sniffling girl and back to Addwyn. He patted his wife’s hand and faced the Steward.
‘Soren, ensure Miss Penti is refreshed and brought to my solar in one hour.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ Soren said.
‘Lieutenant Oates, Archer and Coen as well,’ he said.
They bowed and exited the Great Hall.
Owen and his wife had barely reached their own chambers before Addwyn broke down and wept. Gruffydd was her only brother, and she had adored him. He had always looked out for her, giving Owen a hard time during their courtship.
‘He’s just testing you,’ Addwyn had said with a smile. ‘Wants to ensure you’re good enough for his little sister.’
She was a strong woman, but to be told her brother and his entire family had been killed in such a barbaric way was just too much.
Owen held his wife tightly as deep sobs racked her body. A black fury filled Owen’s heart as he vowed the Greythorpes would pay for these cowardly murders. After a while, he managed to get Addwyn to the bed, where she sat on the edge, her head bowed.
‘Lie down. You should rest,’ Owen said. ‘I’ll get the Maester to prepare a sleeping draught.’
Addwyn lifted her head.
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ her voice was firm even through the tears. ‘I’m not a fragile woman of the court. I’ll be there when you question the girl.’
She certainly wasn’t fragile, that Owen had to agree.
‘It can wait until tomorrow.’
‘No,’ she wiped her eyes with a kerchief. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Right, but I’ll go and tell Lord Griffen,’ Owen said. ‘I don’t want him hearing it from a servant.’
‘No,’ she said and stood. ‘I should do it.’
Owen resisted the temptation to argue, knowing he couldn’t dissuade her.
Later, with the shutters closed and a roaring fire in the hearth, Owen and Addwyn sat together on a settee in his solar. He placed his free hand on hers. Opposite, on an identical settee, sat the girl. Behind her stood Archer Janz, Lieutenant Oates and Coen.
‘Constance,’ Owen said. ‘I know this is difficult, but we must know exactly what happened to the princess.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ she said.
‘It’s alright, dear,’ Addwyn said. ‘You’re amongst friends.’
Despite her grief, his wife projected a calm that Owen could never have attained. The girl hesitated and nodded.
‘I don’t know where to start,’ Constance said.
Her voice was soft, barely audible above the crackling of the fire.
‘How about telling us how you got out of Whitehall?’ Owen said.
Thankfully, she began to speak a little louder and told them about their escape from Whitehall, and they listened without interruption. She only broke down when recounting the death of the princess in the woods in the Greenhavens.
‘This man with the scar,’ Owen said. ‘He killed Sir Fergus as well?’
She nodded.
‘But Sir Fergus was already hurt. He and Sergeant Hudson faced a dozen soldiers so that the princess and I could get away,’ Constance said, biting her lip. ‘He was very brave.’
‘And after that?’ Owen said.
‘I don’t remember much,’ she lowered her head again. ‘Except that I managed to get to Forest Keep.’
‘The Chamberlain spoke highly of Lady Constance and how she helped him deal with the tragedy,’ Lieutenant Oates added.
‘And what of Her Highness?’ Owen said.
The girl blanched at the mention of the princess.
Owen had spoken briefly with Coen before this gathering, and he had also related the Chamberlain’s good impression of the girl.
‘The Chamberlain admitted to me he had not taken the death of Lord Gruffydd and his family well, but she helped him see the error of his ways,’ Coen had said. ‘And she initially refused to return to the site of the princess’s murder, and after seeing it all for myself, I couldn’t blame her.’
‘But she did go?’ Owen had enquired, and his valet had nodded.
The girl’s actions impressed Owen. She had tried to sacrifice herself to save the princess, and even though the attempt failed, her bravery was not in doubt. He thought she had suffered enough and didn’t want to cause her further anguish, so he looked to Lieutenant Oates.
‘We decided that finding Her Highness was more important than anything else, so we headed into the forest. We came across the body of Sir Fergus first,’ the soldier said and paused. ‘It wasn’t pleasant.’
‘Who would do such a thing?’ Addwyn said.
Owen had a fair idea but urged the Lieutenant to continue.
‘We found the princess right where Lady Constance said she’d be. We didn’t have the expertise or materials to preserve her body, and it was too wet to build a pyre, so we buried her in the middle of the clearing. I hope we did the right thing, my lord.’
Owen nodded. Her bones could be retrieved later, and the young princess could finally be laid to rest with her family in the crypt at Riverview.
‘The Chamberlain asks that we send reinforcements and supplies,’ the soldier added.
‘How many survivors?’
‘About three score villagers and a dozen or so from the keep, including the Chamberlain and some servants.’
‘No guards or soldiers?’
The Lieutenant shook his head.
If Hampstead Heath wasn’t of such strategic importance, he’d just evacuate everyone and leave it for the forest to claim. It would have hardly seemed worth sending anything with so few survivors, especially without protection. But he couldn’t sit by and do nothing. Aside from the fact that his wife would curse him if he refused, old Lord Griffen had already insisted on returning to his ancestral home no matter how few remained.
‘Coen, was it all as Lieutenant Oates described?’ Owen said.
‘Yes, my lord,’ his valet said.
‘It’s all my fault!’ Constance interjected. ‘If it wasn’t for me, she’d be alive, and Lord Gruffydd and Sir Kyle wouldn’t be…’
Her voice trailed off.
‘You can’t blame yourself,’ Addwyn said.
‘I should be the one lying in the middle of that clearing, not Mellie!’
‘Some things are beyond your control, no matter what you do,’ Owen said, as images of Leto being washed over the falls flashed through his mind.
Addwyn moved across to the other settee and sat beside the girl, resting a hand on her back.
‘You aren’t responsible for her death or anyone else’s,’ Addwyn said, her voice soft.
‘The animal that murdered her is the one who’s to blame, no-one else,’ Owen said.
He looked up at a knock on the door. It opened, and a guard stepped inside.
‘A message arrived for you by raven, my lord,’ the guard said, holding up a tiny bound scroll.
Owen beckoned to the guard, but Archer intercepted him and took the message, glancing at it.
‘It’s from Abbot Alwen,’ he said, handing the scroll to Owen.
He’d heard enough. It left no doubt where the responsibility lay for this massacre.
‘You may all go. Archer, bring Commander Holt in an hour to discuss support for the Greenhavens. Soren, take Lady Constance back to her room and send word to my brothers. I want them here post-haste.’
After their departure, Owen removed the ribbon from the small scroll and broke the seal. He unfurled it and began reading. He always appreciated missives from the Abbot, having received several since his return to Cliffs End. It was a relatively short message written in the Abbot’s impeccable small lettering. As expected, it contained updates on the situation in the capitol, none of which boded well for Owen. He read the last few lines, and his face fell.
‘What is it?’ Addwyn said.
He reread the message., then looked up at his wife. ‘That girl who helped Leto contact me in the capitol … ’
She nodded. ‘Dariah … has something happened to her?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Well?’ Addwyn urged.
‘She’s with child.’
12
LETO
T
he Grateful Crow tavern held barely a dozen customers. Leto had hoped to learn about what was happening in Avaleen. Had Lord Regan taken the crown for himself, or was he controlling his sister like he’d tried to control Leto? Had Lord Owen escaped the Red Pass unharmed? He needed answers and could not wait until he made it to Anchorage for them to be answered.
Everyone in Avaleen must think him dead, and he ached at the thought that Melina, Cordelia and even Dariah would be mourning him. His future father-by-law had risked his life and the future of his own family to help Leto escape the clutches of Lord Regan, and all he had done was repay him with ignorance and foolishness. Leto vowed never to make that mistake again.
He felt a tug on his arm.
‘Can we leave?’ Darcy said.
He glanced at the young woman and thought bringing her along may have been a mistake. Aside from the village of the giants, this was the first town of any size she had visited and certainly the first tavern she had ever entered.
Viggo had not been pleased when Leto had informed him of his intentions. The giant had ordered Leila and Big Gil to go with him into the nearby town, but Leto refused.
‘I want to be inconspicuous,’ he had said. ‘Having someone of your … size … would attract attention we don’t need.’
‘I don’t want you going off alone,’ Viggo said.
Viggo eventually relented, but with the condition that Leto take Darcy with him. He agreed, and the next morning he and Darcy entered the town while his giant escort hid in the nearby forest.
‘We’ll be fine,’ he said and lowered his hand to the pommel of his sword. ‘Just stay near me.’
They had not been welcome. Not even the grey-haired woman behind the bar seemed happy to see them, so he understood Darcy’s anxiety.
‘They’re looking at us,’ she said. ‘Please, can we go?’
Leto surveyed the main room of the tavern again. He noticed men at one of the tables staring at them. He had hoped to find a busy tavern and hang around and overhear something … anything. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he had.
Looking at the near-empty tavern, Leto soon realised he’d come at the wrong time of the day. He should have known better. He felt another tug at his sleeve and decided there was no point in staying. He wouldn’t learn anything without attracting attention, so he turned to leave. Darcy hurried outside, and he went to follow.
‘Hey, stranger!’
Leto glanced back and froze.
‘Leaving already? Come and join us.’
The man who spoke was seated and had turned in his chair. Leto recognised the man instantly. It was Cross, the bandit who had captured him and Jacob after they’d fled the capitol. He rubbed his jaw as the memory of the beating jumped into his mind. Another man at the table had also turned, a skinny bald man with a huge scar across his face.
Leto turned and followed Darcy out of the tavern, hoping he hadn’t been recognised. Outside, he grabbed her arm just above the elbow and propelled her forward.
‘Let’s get back to the camp,’ he said.
She glanced down at his hand, gripping her arm.
‘What’s wrong?’ she said.
‘Nothing, but Viggo was right. This was a bad idea.’
Leto surveyed the buildings as they hurried down the town's main street. He directed Darcy towards a gap between two nearby buildings.
‘Hey!’ Cross’s voice came from behind them. ‘Stop right there.’
Leto ignored it and kept walking.
‘What’s he want?’ Darcy said.
‘Nothing,’ Leto said. ‘Just keep moving.’
‘Scar,’ Cross said. ‘If they don’t stop, put a bolt in his back.’
Damn it! Leto pulled Darcy to a stop.
‘Stay behind me,’ he said.
‘What’s going on?’
He could hear the panic rising in her voice but ignored her question.
‘Just be ready to run,’ Leto said, his voice low.
He turned to face Cross and his men. They had approached within ten yards. Flanked by Scar on his left, who had his crossbow raised, and a tall, thin man on his right, the bandit leader took another step forward.
‘There’s nothing to fear,’ Cross said, smiling. ‘We’re harmless.’
‘Then leave us be,’ Leto said. ‘We have no quarrel with you.’
‘But I have one with you.’
Leto’s heart skipped a beat. It had been over three moons since their earlier encounter, and Leto’s hair had grown. A short beard covered his face as well, more than enough of a change to hopefully conceal his identity.
‘You’re a rude little bastard,’ the bandit leader said. ‘Nobody walks away from me and gets away with it.’
He hadn’t recognised Leto, but had selected him and Darcy as their next potential victims.
‘We have nothing,’ Leto said. ‘Let us be on our way.’
Cross gestured towards Darcy with a leering smile.
‘I wouldn’t say that. I’m sure she has something to offer. Whether it’s of any value, I’ll tell you afterwards.’
The other two bandits chuckled.
‘What does he mean by that?’ she said.
‘So, you’re not a murderer, only a rapist?’ Leto said to Cross, ignoring Darcy.
‘Who’s to say she won’t offer herself willingly?’ Cross said. ‘I can be quite charming.’
Cross and the tall bandit laughed, but Scar did not.
