The moon was high in the sky, and torches lined the center of the arena where four strong horses stood in a row. I walked steadily into the center where Parnell stood with Whitney’s arms held behind her back. She struggled against him with anger in her eyes and jeers on her lips.
“You will release me, you foul creature!” she yelled at him. “How dare you! You are nothing more than a…a breeder of beasts!”
She twisted again, and Sir Rylan raised an eyebrow.
“Shall I silence her?” he asked. He held a piece of cloth in his hands.
“No,” I said. I shook my head as I walked straight up to her. “I want answers.”
“You’ll get nothing from me!” Whitney snorted at me and stomped her foot.
I leaned over and grabbed the hair at the back of her neck. I pulled sharply back, tilting her head and snarling down at her. She cried out and tried to kick me.
“Then I will listen to your screams!”
“You would not dare do anything against a royal!”
I chuckled softly right before I spat in her face.
“Do you see your father? Your brothers?” I asked her. For the first time, she had no response. “That’s because their heads are being placed on spikes at this very moment. Did you not watch your own mother fall? Do you think you will be spared? Your sister is likely dead by now, as well, though her fate was far more merciful than yours will be.”
“You would not,” she said, though her voice did not sound so sure. “You would never do such a thing to me…you love me.”
“Love you?” I could not keep the shock from my voice, and my eyes widened in disbelief.
“You just do not know it yet!” she said. “We were matched as children, and our parents knew we were to be together. Even when your father refused to betroth us, he still knew it would happen someday. We are meant to be, Branford!”
“I am going to kill you, you stupid, insane woman.”
“You would never!” she said with contemptuous certainty.
I stared at her a moment longer. How do you reason with someone so obviously out of her mind? Would she still respond, at least, to her own will to live through this? One thing I knew for sure—honesty was not going to benefit me now.
“There is one way I might consider sparing you,” I said, the lie flowing easily from my lips, “one way only. Tell me now—where is my wife?”
Whitney laughed.
“The commoner queen?” She sneered. “Who would even care, save for the child inside of her?”
She tried to step forward and out of Parnell’s grip, but he held her fast. He turned his head to the side, and his eyes stared off into the distance as he pretended he would not have done the same had it been Ida taken. There was no way she was going to be reasoned with, and I was determined to have my answer now.
As Parnell held her back, I closed the gap between us and reached out to her with one hand. I traced the side of her face and along her jaw, and I felt her body relax slightly. Once I reached her slender neck, I wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed.
She gasped once before her air was cut off, and I growled into her face.
“You have one final chance to speak. Once I release you, you had better open your mouth and tell me where to find my wife, or you will die most painfully. I am not interested in your delusions or your games. I only want my wife and child with me again.”
I let go of her throat, and she would have fallen if Parnell had not held her up. She coughed and wheezed for a moment before I grew tired of waiting, and smacked her on the side of her head.
Her gaze turned to me, and she glared.
“Never!” She snarled and struggled.
“We’ll see,” I replied, my voice now calm and collected. I summoned four of the soldiers to my side. “Help me to prepare her.”
I grabbed the ropes they brought to me and made quick work of Whitney’s arms while Parnell—his eyes still staring blankly as he tried to prepare himself for what he knew would come—held her legs so ropes could be tied to her ankles. Once each of her limbs was secured tightly, the ends of the ropes were given to four different soldiers, who one-by-one walked solemnly to his horse. Each horse faced a different direction, and as the soldiers tied the ropes to the saddles, I grabbed Whitney by her middle and held her parallel to the ground with her face staring into the sky.
She struggled, kicked, and screamed at me, but I ignored her. I held her flat with my palms underneath her back until the soldiers had walked the horses far enough away for me to release my grip without her body falling to the ground.
“There you go—stop now,” I called out, and the soldiers steadied each of the horses. “Hold them still.”
I stepped up to one side of Whitney and looked down at her. She was completely suspended in the air now, with each of her splayed limbs holding up the rest of her body. At the end of the line, each horse stood with the rope secured to the saddle and a soldier standing with sword drawn. At my signal, they would know exactly what to do.
“Do you realize,” I asked as I leaned over her, “exactly what will happen to you if I command the horses to run?”
Whitney’s eyes widened for a moment.
“They…they could not,” she said. Her voice was already strained. “Branford…they cannot do that with me tied to them!”
“Yes,” I said to her, “they can. They are far, far stronger than your weak and useless limbs. You will be torn into pieces.”
“You cannot do that,” she whispered. For the first time, I saw tears form in the corners of her eyes. “You cannot possibly do that, Branford. I’m a royal…you…you love me…”
“There is nothing royal about you,” I said. “The only fond memory I have of you is spilling my seed on your leg, and taking your purity was transient and meaningless to me. Now tell me where you have hidden my wife.”
Whitney narrowed her eyes again, and she lashed out at me with her shrill voice.
“You wife!” She snorted in disgust. “She is no more your wife than I am a commoner! I am your wife! You just never wanted to admit it! I became your wife that summer when you first took me! She is nothing—nothing! I am your everything! I will carry all of your children, Branford! You know that is how it is supposed to be!”
“You are delusional,” I said with a gruff laugh.
“You would call me delusional? You are the one who is obviously mad! Who else besides a lunatic ignores his duty and marries common trash?”
I flinched as I felt my throat tighten. I gripped my hands into fists as I moved in closer to her.
“You will never speak of Alexandra in such a way again,” I said with absolute certainty. “And I assure you I am quite, quite mad. Tell me where she is.”
“You will not dare harm me,” she whispered, though I could see in her eyes she no longer believed her own words. “We are meant to be together…”
I tilted my head to one side and then ran my hand through my hair. I sighed heavily and rubbed the fingers of my free hand into my eye sockets before I took out my sword, lay it across Whitney’s belly, and slowly cut into first her dress and then her skin. She gasped, tilted her head back and let out a long, anguished wail as she writhed in pain. I sheathed my sword and pried open the cut with my fingers.
“Where is she?” I screamed one final time. The horses started slightly, and Whitney cried out as the ropes were pulled tight, stretching her limbs. She looked up at me in disbelief, anger, and pain.
“She is in Sterling Castle!” Whitney finally cried out through her tears. “She is surrounded by guards, and I hope they have ruined her for you!”
I took a handful of steps close to her and leaned over her face.
“Swear on your life?” I asked.
“Yes!” She growled back up at me. There was no lie in her eyes.
“Good,” I murmured. I rose and called out to the four men who stood at the flanks of the horses with swords in hand. “Now!”
Each man held hi
s sword high before bringing the flat edge down on the horse’s rump. The horses whinnied, stamped, and ran. The ropes tightened, pulled to the very end of each of Whitney’s limbs, and then tore them from her body.
Her screams did not stop for some time as she lay there on the ground, armless and legless. The blood flowed from the holes in her body and into the dry grass of the field. I approached her, and her glassy eyes gazed at me. Blood trickled from the edge of her lips.
“Alexandra is far more than you could have ever been,” I told her though I could not swear her dying torso could comprehend my words. “She is the true royal. You are nothing. You were always nothing to me.”
I turned away and motioned to Erik to bring Romero to me. I quickly stepped up and threw one leg over the saddle before I looked back out to the other men with me in the field. I took a long breath to try to steady myself before I called out to them.
“Parnell! Rylan! We must ride to Sterling! With haste!”
The horses’ hooves pounded against the road, but still we could hear the sound of rock smashing against rock—evidence of Wynton’s devices at work—as we rode away. I turned to look over my shoulder just in time to see one of the large towers crumble into rubble. By this time tomorrow, Hadebrand Castle would be nothing but dust.
*****
As we rode from Hadebrand to Sterling, I could not help but think of the first ride I took with Alexandra. She had clung to me with such insecurity, I could not help but feel the desire to protect her. I had held her close to my chest, silently wishing I had not so much metal between my body and hers. For most of the ride, I thought of taking her body on our wedding night.
And then I had not done so.
I wanted to. It had been my right. I surprised even myself when I did not just slow down and take her anyway, but the look in her eyes made me stop. She had been terrified of me. I knew immediately that I did not want a wife who feared me. I did not want this young, precious girl to dread my presence in our rooms, but rather I wanted her to desire me as I desired her.
Over the next few days, I had thought I was going to lose all semblance of sanity in my unrequited lust. By the time we had actually consummated our marriage, it ended up being one of the most incredible experiences of my life, and each moment with her since then had only increased those thoughts.
I knew I had made the gravest mistakes during our time together, many of which were not even known to my wife. Making war without a full understanding of my enemy’s capabilities had been foolish at best, and that had set the stage for the rest of my downfall. For the first time, I had let my guard down and allowed someone I did not know close to my family—and Alexandra had paid dearly for it. I did not keep Alexandra close to me the one time she needed me to do so. My downfall had been the downfall of my wife as well as all of Silverhelm. Though I thought at the time I was doing what was best for my family and my kingdom, I knew now how wrong I had been.
I wanted to do better—both by Alexandra and my people—but I had no one left to guide me. Camden had tried to make me understand so many times, and I had refused to listen to his advice. He had coddled me, I knew this now, and when I desperately needed him, he was no longer there.
My introspections were cut short as the broken walls of Sterling Castle came into view.
There were forces guarding the front entrance though only very few. Most of the men there appeared to be carpenters and masons though what they were doing there I still didn’t know. The east tower was completely gone, and nothing but the rubble from the structure itself, furniture, and similar items seemed to be left. We easily disposed of the men and entered the castle through the hole where the tower used to be, immediately beginning our search. The upper rooms were cold and empty, and I tried not to stare too long at the bed where Alexandra and I had spent our first night after our wedding. I knew this castle like the back of my hand, and soon all the main rooms had been searched, save one.
Parnell joined me as we approached the great hall that had served as a meeting place for my father and his small court when he was Lord of Sterling. Parnell dispatched two men to guard the outer doorway, and we both entered the large room.
“Alexandra!” I screamed out.
There was a small part deep inside of me that knew I was near my breaking point. It was the part of me that never actually left the hiding place below the bench seat where I was entombed while my mother was brutalized. That part of me was trying to pull the rest of me back down into the darkness again—close the lid and seal me up tight so nothing could touch me. Nothing. No one. If I did not find her, that was where I would go—deep inside of myself—and I would likely never return.
I had never spoken to Alexandra or to anyone else about it, but that was exactly what I had done for a time as a child. After being taken to Sawyer and finding out how my parents had died, I had shut myself off from everyone and everything. I did not eat, or speak, or hear those around me. I did not even see anyone else as they tried to engage me in conversation or activity. I existed completely inside myself. Only Ida and her cries for me managed to bring me back.
Ida no longer needed her older brother, and if Alexandra was…
I did not dare think of it.
The great hall in Sterling Castle was modest and had never held actual thrones when the Sterling family occupied it. My father was a lord and a duke, not a king. Now, though, there was a throne sitting on its own in the center at the end of the hall. The same carved benches I recalled from my youth sat along the sides of the walls, but little else adorned the room.
Between two of the benches was a small door with a heavy bar across it. I knew exactly where it led though I could scarcely believe Whitney would have gone so far as to put my wife in the actual dungeon.
Of course she would have.
The skin of my arm rose in gooseflesh at the thought though I was still covered by heavy leather and chainmail. I quickly reached for the handle of the door as Parnell yelled at the other guards to secure the rest of the area. Beyond the door was a dark, narrow staircase on which I had trod only a handful of times in my life. Royalty did not venture down here if it could be avoided. I had to pull a torch from the wall at the bottom of the stairs to see my way down the dank corridor. With the torchlight flickering, casting eerie shadows, we turned the corner and approached the many barred doors of the Sterling Castle dungeon.
And that is when I heard Alexandra scream.
Chapter 4—Blessedly Reunited
I did not know whether my heart beat faster from elation or terror.
Though I had never heard such a sound come from Alexandra’s throat, I knew immediately that it was her. I did not know if it was the quality of her voice, the intonation, or perhaps just blind faith, but I knew my wife was there and crying out in pain.
She lives.
Nearly falling down the next set of steep stairs in the process, I raced as fast as I could toward the sound of her voice. I could hear and feel Parnell behind me as I rounded the corner and looked upon the rows of barred doors. Parnell was calling out to me—warning me to be cautious—but I barely heard his words in my haste. Alexandra was near, and she needed me. There was nothing and no one that could have slowed my pace.
The door toward the end of the dark corridor was partially open, and I could see flickering light coming from inside. I had to brace my heels into the dirt floor in order to stop as I turned from the hallway to the entrance to the cell. I shoved the door open, and my gaze fell on the two figures at the far side of the room.
One was Alexandra. She lay on the floor near the back wall on a bed of squalid, old straw with her legs curled up and her knees at her chest. Even as I entered, she cried out again, her body shaking with what appeared to be the sheer exertion of the scream.
The other figure was a guard with his back to me. He knelt on the ground in front of her, and his hands reached out to grab at her as she cried out. With my hand still grasping my sword, I approached him from behind with
every intention of ending his life without hesitation.
However, the way he held himself seemed familiar, and I recognized his frustrated groan, which stayed my hand. It had been many years, but this was a man I knew well. He turned at the sound of our entry, and I saw the deep scar across the face and the scruffy beard of the trusted cousin of my birth mother.
“Greysen!”
“My king!” he replied though his eyes showed no relief. He turned quickly back to Alexandra. “My king…I think…I believe the child is coming.”
As if on cue, Alexandra cried out. The sound was long and low, and Alexandra’s arms wrapped around her bulging stomach as she screamed. I almost pushed Greysen to the ground as I first knelt beside my wife and then lay myself next to her on the straw so I could reach her better. I held either side of her tear-stained face and made her look at me.
“Alexandra,” I whispered. I watched her eyes go wide before she burst into fresh tears.
“Branford! Branford!” she cried out. “Are you really here? Truly? Am I not dreaming?”
“I am here, my wife,” I said softly.
Alexandra seemed about to say something when she let out another long wail. I turned to Parnell.
“What do we need to do?” I asked him.
Parnell took a step backwards and placed his hand over his breastplate.
“Do?” he asked, sounding stunned. “What do you mean do?”
“The child is coming! Shouldn’t we do something?”
“I have no idea!” Parnell replied.
“But you fathered a child with my sister!”
“Then ask me how Emma was fathered, not how she was born!” he yelled back. “I was not present when she came into the world!”
“How can you not know—”
“Edith,” Greysen said, interrupting. I looked at him for an explanation. Greysen nodded emphatically. “She had been a handmaid to Princess Whitney but now works in the kitchen here in Sterling. Edith has had her own children, and she has been at the births of others. She will know what to do.”