Page 8 of The Devastation


  “There are no more people of Hadebrand,” I replied. When Alexandra looked up at me with a shocked expression, I shook my head and clarified. “They are not all dead—they are now people of Silverhelm. I would not be cruel to those who were simply unfortunate enough to have their family’s farm in a certain location.”

  She nodded and lay her head back down on my shoulder to watch our son as he squirmed slightly in her arms.

  “He is beautiful,” she whispered as his eyes closed, and he continued to suck even though he appeared to have fallen back asleep. “He looks just like you.”

  “Hmm.” I hummed as I looked him over. There were similarities that were obvious—his eyes and the shape of his lips, but his nose was the same as hers, and he did not have enough hair to determine what color it might be. “I see his mother in him as well.”

  Alexandra’s eyelids fluttered closed as she lifted our son from her breast and placed him against the other. As the babe continued his meal, Alexandra’s eyelids grew heavier.

  “Sleep, my wife,” I whispered as I pressed my lips against the skin below her ear. “I have you, and you are safe.”

  She did not even remain awake long enough to respond.

  *****

  We spent several days in Sterling Castle and were joined by Sunniva and Ida on the third day. During that time, I returned to the ruins that were once Hadebrand to look over my new lands. Where there had once been a fine castle with its many surrounding buildings, there was now nothing but rubble, scorched earth, and six halberds thrust into the ground, each topped with the ghoulish head of Edgar and his family members.

  There were still two questions that bothered me greatly. The first mystery had to do with the whereabouts of Sir Leland and the men who had participated in the killing of my parents. Of the four of them who taught me so much as a young child, one was not yet accounted for. Kolby was killed by Parnell. Dalton had been killed in the forests of Silverhelm by Dunstan, and Salik’s body was located near Gage—both apparently killed by stones from the castle walls as they fell. Yagmur was still nowhere to be found. The other question looming in my mind was the reason behind the almost complete destruction of the east tower of my ancestral home. No one seemed to know anything of it.

  “Who is this?” I asked as I gestured toward a man and woman who sat on the ground with their heads bowed.

  “They approached the castle earlier this morning,” the guard said. “They could not account for themselves.”

  “Could not account for themselves?” I scoffed. “Who are you, old man?”

  “We came from the south,” the man said as he lifted his face to glance at me. He quickly lowered his eyes. “Are…are you King Branford?”

  “I am.”

  “We heard of the fall of King Edgar,” he told me, “and came to pay our respects and offer our lands to you.”

  “I do not want your lands,” I said. I saw the woman flinch, and a small noise escaped her mouth. When I looked at her, I could see her hands were trembling, and for a moment, she reminded me of Alexandra when she first came to Silverhelm. I wondered why she was afraid, considered my words, and tried to think of how they might have been interpreted.

  I dropped to one knee in front of the woman and looked closely at her. Her hair was long and brown and tied in a knot at the back of her neck. She was close to Sunniva in age, and her eyes were a lighter color of brown than Alexandra’s.

  “Your lands are your own,” I told her. “As your king, I only expect a portion of your yield. It will be a fair portion and used to serve the rest of Silverhelm.”

  She glanced at me but quickly lowered her eyes again.

  “Yes, my king,” she whispered.

  She did not believe me.

  “Good woman,” I said as I reach out to touch her hand. “I speak to you with truth.”

  “Of course, sire,” she replied. I could see the blush on her face, and again I thought of my wife.

  “Our farm…It no longer yields enough,” her husband said gruffly.

  “Why is this?” I asked.

  “That’s what he has been going on about,” the guard said. “He claims he can’t pay tribute to his new king.”

  “Explain,” I said, keeping my voice soft.

  “King Edgar…he…he destroyed our crops.”

  “Why would he do this?”

  “He said we were traitors.”

  “And were you?”

  The man’s gaze met mine, and this time his expression did not waver.

  “I do not think giving food to those who need it is treason, no, sire.”

  I chuckled.

  “Whom did you feed?”

  “I am the one who did it!” the woman suddenly exclaimed. “It was not Abraham!”

  “Hush, Maggie,” he said. “The woman doesn’t know what she says. I am responsible for her.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “you are.”

  I turned my attention back to the woman.

  “Whom did you feed?”

  She looked from me to her husband before her shoulders slumped, and she admitted to helping five refugees as they fled Hadebrand to Peaks. Edgar had apparently deemed them supporters of Seacrest’s efforts to feed Wynton.

  “And this is the reason you cannot provide me with tribute?”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “Then your tribute is deferred.” I stood and brushed the dust from my trousers before offering Maggie my hand and helping her to her feet.

  “Deferred?” Abraham’s eyes narrowed. “I do not understand.”

  “I will expect tribute next year,” I clarified. “Is there anything else you need? I must return to Sterling.”

  The apparently astonished couple continued to stare at me as I mounted Romero and headed away from Hadebrand. I had dealt with a dozen such issues since arriving and left Parnell to deal with any remaining problems with the new subjects of Silverhelm. As I rode off, I thought of my wife and the people who were now our responsibility, and I smiled.

  *****

  “These are beautiful,” Alexandra said as Ida handed her another cartload of gifts brought from Silverhelm residents to Sterling Castle. There was a bright red robe for little Prince Branford, or Branny as Ida and Sunniva had begun to call him, much to my dismay, as well as dresses for Alexandra. Most of the gifts were obviously for the kingdom’s new prince though he did not seem to care for such things. He only seemed happy when he was at his mother’s breast.

  Well…and sometimes when I held him and rocked him slowly back and forth.

  Ida and Sunniva gathered up many of the gifts and began to prepare for our short journey back to Silverhelm. We had been in Sterling a week and needed to return to our own castle.

  “I have no idea what made you think bringing all these things here just to take them back home again was a good idea.”

  “They are gifts from your subjects, Branford,” my adoptive mother said, chastising me. “Cherish them. I do not think I need to tell you why.”

  I nodded, unable to argue with her words. Were it not for my people’s love of their queen, my situation would be drastically different. I could not even allow myself to consider exactly how.

  “Is everything else ready to go?” Alexandra asked as she came out of the bedroom. Prince Branford let out one half-hearted cry before he gave up and snuggled into the crook of his mother’s arm.

  “I believe that is it,” Sunniva said. “Ida and Parnell have already left.”

  “Are they going back to Sawyer?” Alexandra asked.

  “No, they will return to Silverhelm first,” I said.

  “Good. I did not get the chance to thank Ida for all her help. I would not have managed through these first few days of motherhood without her and you too, Sunniva.”

  Sunniva laughed and wrapped her arms around Alexandra’s shoulders, hugging her tightly.

  “I am sure you would have survived,” Sunniva said, “but I am happy I could help.”

  The women embraced
, and Sunniva left in her own carriage with Greysen and Edith. Alexandra carried Prince Branford in her arms and followed me as I took one last look around my parents’ home.

  “I wish I knew why they did this,” I said for the tenth time in the past day. No one who lived seemed to have any idea what Edgar sought or why he would tear apart the entire tower. It was where the four traitors lived when I was a child, but what could Edgar gain by tearing their quarters apart?

  Perhaps we would never know.

  “Will you hold him?” Alexandra said as she held our son out to me.

  I took him from her as she bent down to remove a bit of rubble stuck in her shoe. She held her hands out to take him back, but I turned away, holding him against my cheek and inhaling slowly. The scent of him was calming, and I found having him in our rooms helped me sleep these past few days. Alexandra looked at me sideways and smashed her lips together to keep from laughing at me. I feigned anger and walked a little ways toward the castle wall and the debris that was once the tower.

  “Between you, his aunt, and his grandmother,” I told her, “I have barely touched him since yesterday.”

  Alexandra could not argue but stood at my side and looked over the piles of broken furniture, stone, and wood strewn across the ground. I was about to relinquish little Branford when I saw Alexandra’s eyes narrow just before she took several quick steps forward and bent down.

  When she stood again, her hand held an intricately carved bowl.

  “Look at this!” she called out as she turned it around in her hands. “Is it familiar to you?”

  “It does look like the one you brought with you when you came to Silverhelm,” I said. “The way all the wood pieces fit together is amazing.”

  “I wonder if this one is like the one I have,” she said softly as she turned the bowl upside down. Pushing with her thumb, she slid one of the short rectangular pieces on the bottom of the bowl to one side, revealing a hole.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “I found it by accident,” she said. “I dropped my bowl, and a piece fell out. I thought it was broken, but when I put the piece back, I realized it had been made that way purposely.”

  She tilted the bowl to the side, and we both heard and saw the movement of something inside the hole at the bottom.

  “Oh!” Alexandra suddenly exclaimed. “There is something inside of this one!”

  She reached her slender fingers inside the small cavity and pulled out a piece of parchment. It was old and crumpled, but the red seal in wax was still obviously the seal of Hadebrand. I held out my hand and Alexandra gave the item to me.

  VR-

  Duke Branford has refused the betrothal. It is time to move against them. Once you have disposed of them both, his heir can be raised here. The forests around the castle will fall into my hands; it will just take a little longer to get the reward you four have earned.

  -KE

  Despite the cryptic qualities of the brief note, it was still clear to me. The note was to Yagmur, one of the men who had mentored and raised me, and it had come from King Edgar. Even with the broken seal, this was enough evidence to have been brought before a council of royals. This would have been enough to have even a king tried for his actions.

  And that is when I knew for what Edgar had searched.

  Chapter 5—Peacefully Exist

  The next few days flew by in comparison to the last few. My family was safe, and those who had threatened us were practically eliminated. I would deal with the two remaining perpetrators in this plot against me and my family—a plot that had apparently gone on for decades—when that time came to pass. Though the treachery was still on my mind, it did not consume me as it once had. Between my wife and my child, I was at peace for the first time since my own childhood.

  The way Alexandra took to motherhood astonished me. It was as if she was simply born for the role. Whereas I felt awkward those first few days with my newborn son, she held him, cooed at him, and calmed him almost instantly. I strived to soothe him as well as she did, but I lacked one primary advantage when it came to ceasing Prince Branford’s cries—milk.

  I was actually beginning to get a little jealous of the amount of contact between the lad and my wife’s full breasts, especially since Sunniva informed me I was not to touch Alexandra or attempt to lie with her again for many weeks.

  Weeks!

  I felt as though I had been sent to the stocks. Actually, that option might have been more comfortable. If I had not been so bone-weary from having the child wake us both in the middle of every night, I would have been more distressed over it. As it was, Alexandra and I were both equally exhausted after caring for our little one throughout the nights, not that either of us would have had it any other way. We insisted on keeping him with us each night though Sunniva often suggested letting another care for him so we could sleep. I would not have it. Dealing with the interruptions was a small price to pay to keep him close and safe.

  Besides, I still slept better than I ever had in my entire adult life.

  Alexandra was near me, warm and invitingly close to me, even if we were mandated to nothing more than holding each other and sleeping. My son was in the room with us; my people were increasingly content, and their security was established. My most trusted soldiers made sure of it.

  A handful of guards, organized by Dunstan, began to make regular patrols between Silverhelm, Sterling, and the lands formerly known as Hadebrand, which the people now simply referred to as South Silverhelm. Very few skirmishes occurred after the fall of Edgar and his family, but there were still a few supporters who attempted to hide out in the forests and ambush my guards as they traveled. I wanted to be sure the new citizens of Silverhelm felt safe to travels the roads.

  And travel they did.

  Every day, dozens of serfs showed up at the castle gates to pay tribute either to their new king or to the infant prince. The child seemed to have collected enough clothing by the second week of life to allow him to never wear the same thing twice as long as he did not outgrow it first.

  Alexandra’s fame also grew, and she dutifully received the praises from her people and was recognized for the part she played during the war. It weighed heavily on her when she discovered the number of serfs who had died fighting for her. She made it her personal mission to make sure every family was compensated for their losses and even organized a team of widows to distribute winter supplies to those families whose fathers and sons had perished defeating Hadebrand. She also helped those who had been ruled by Hadebrand and were now within our borders. So many of them had been abused by Edgar’s reign, and Alexandra seemed to think it her duty to restore their faith in royalty.

  She succeeded.

  “I do not understand,” Alexandra said as she shifted in the throne she now occupied. She turned to face me better as another of our subjects left their tribute and returned to their own lands. “Edgar took more from them than was necessary, and when we try to lower their tribute, they still bring more than they must.”

  I smiled, knowing that she already had the answer in her head; she just could not bring herself to accept it as truth.

  “You are worth it,” I told her. “They know that. They also hope you will remember them if they fall into need.”

  “How can I remember so many?”

  “You remember more than I.”

  Alexandra met my gaze and pursed her lips.

  “You are lucky to remember your son’s name at times!”

  I laughed, knowing she referred to the previous day when I had called for one of the hunting dogs, and when he had returned to my heel, I had patted his head and accidently called him Branny. Alexandra had been horrified, sure I would refer to our son by a dog’s name next.

  “I should go check on Amarra’s pups.” I stood and reached for my cloak, for the air had turned wintery cold again.

  “I will check on Branny,” my wife said as she wrapped her hand around my arm.

  I rolled my eyes
at the nickname.

  “That is not a fitting name for a prince,” I said—again. It was contagious, however, and I found myself using the name more often than not.

  “It suits him,” Alexandra said with a shrug. She kissed my cheek and made her way up the back stairs to tend to our son.

  I smiled to myself as I thought of them both and realized he was now a month old. I tried to count back the days since his birth in the now-sealed dungeons of Sterling Castle. After the third time Alexandra woke up in the dark from nightmares about the place, it was the only thing I could think to do that made any difference. If nothing else, she slept better afterwards, and it had been more than a week since she woke up crying.

  A full thirty-four days since my heir was born. I selfishly wondered if Alexandra was still recovering from giving birth or if I might try to pursue her more physical affections once again. Sunniva had warned me to leave her be until Alexandra approached me, but knowing my wife, I could wait for years before such a thing occurred. Throughout our marriage, she had summoned up the courage to initiate physical love between us exactly three times.

  And she blushed every time she did so.

  Beautifully, demurely seductive was my wife.

  She was glorious.

  I walked outside, through the marketplace, and toward the stables and dog run. Before I managed to reach any of the structures, I was hailed by Dunstan. I turned to walk to him where he stood on the road with a handful of other men.

  “Look what I found,” Dunstan said as he hauled Sir Leland out from behind the other guards. “He was creeping up behind Sterling Castle just as I was leaving.”

  I glanced over at him, looked into his eyes, and felt more pity for him than I expected. He was going to die, and he knew it. There was nothing that he or anyone else could say to change that. However, knowing my wife and son were healthy and warm inside my bedchambers, what happened to this wretch seemed much less important to me than it would have before the war.

  “Kill him,” I said with a shrug.

  “I assumed as much,” Dunstan said with a nod, “but I think we need to check out the area south of Sterling first.”