Walter felt a chill down his spine as he took in the lady's words. He was a boy just nineteen years of age and before him, was a girl he was sure was just approaching her twelve-thirteen years. Yet, she held the ability to turn him stiff in fear.
"I will keep my word," Walter managed to say.
"Good. Can you find your way to the last window facing the west garden?" Lucy asked.
"Of course, my lady," Walter answered quickly.
"Be there in twenty minutes," she instructed and immediately retreated into the dark. Lucy found her way back to her room. She took a piece of parchment and carefully wrote down instructions. She retrieved the contact that Mr Jodanham had left with her maid and placed it on the two envelopes, each containing a letter. It did not take long before she heard a knock on her window. She got up to open it. She passed the letters as well as the contact address to Walter standing just outside her window.
"To that address; give the smaller letter first to no one but the name on that address. Only after he signs it, are you to give him the second. Do only as I have instructed. Retrieve the signed letter from him before you leave. Return this to me this time tomorrow and I will pay."
"Okay," Walter hastily answered from the other side of the window.
"That is all."
"I'll take my leave then."
He wasted no time, mounted his horse and rode out from the school. He had taken a good look at the address and it was far into town, in the opposite direction of his village.
He knew this job would take him a while and somewhere in his mind, he worried what his father would say when he arrived home.
He shook the thought off his mind as he quickly nudged ahead his horse. After an hour-rushed ride in the biting cold, Walter felt eager to be done with his instructions. He had arrived at the said address, so he paused for a breath. He walked up the stone steps leading towards the large door. With two knocks, a lanky man answered.
"Yes?" Walter heard a shrill voice say.
"I have a package for Mr Jodanham," Walter answered.
"Hand it over," the lanky man said.
"You are not Mr Jodanham," Walter said as a fact. Though he had never met the man in question, he knew such a man would not open his own door.
"I will collect it for him. Don't waste my time, boy. Hand it over!" the man sounded irritated.
"My instructions were clear. Only Mr Jodanham may collect this and no one else. It is best you inform him of this. This is not a matter he can overlook," Walter said.
"I am not allowing you dirty thing in here," the man snorted.
"Then I suggest you start searching for another employer. I guarantee you will lose this one if you don't inform him," Walter warned. To this, the lanky man frowned but retreated inside for a while before returning.
"Come in," Walter followed the begrudged man inside. It took him a while to adjust to the light inside, but he eventually took in the empty space.
Though the house stood big and sturdy, it was devoid of much furniture. The lanky man led him upstairs to a large door. The lanky man knocked twice before opening the door for Walter to enter. Walter stepped into another empty room; except for the books and documents scattered around the room and the single shelf by the corner, a large desk sat before him. On the other side of the desk sat a chubby man with his nose in a book.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Who are you and what do you want?" the man grumbled, completely annoyed about being disturbed.
"I have a package for you," Walter said dropping the first envelope on the desk. Mr Jodanham glanced briefly at the boy before opening the package. It was a letter. One look and he knew who it was from. He was clear about what she wanted from him. It was a contract; one that not only binds his present but his future as well. Until released from her service, he must do as told and with the utmost discretion. The room suddenly felt hot and stuffy as he stared at the paper before him.
"Sign it," Walter said before he could stop himself.
"What makes you think you can forget your place and start giving me advice?" Mr Jodanham said in anger.
"It wasn't an advise, it was an order," Walter said passively.
"What?" Mr Jodanham frowned.
"The letter, it's an order. When she gives you something to sign, it means you must. Why are you still thinking? It's dark and I have to be done with this," Walter said.
He knew he had no place to tell the man what to do but, looking at him hesitate made Walter frown. He had met the lady, and he was sure of one thing; she was not giving the man before him an option, but an order. Mr Jodanham signed below and looked up to find Walter's stretched hand. He returned it to Walter and Walter handed him the second letter.
"I'll take my leave now," Walter turned and left Mr Jodanham staring at the door he just closed.
***
A nobleman garbed in grey, sat in his townhome, his eyes fixed upon his tea swirling from his crystal cup, then the chess pieces before him. His opponent, a round study man, glaring so hard at him, one would wonder what kind of chess they were playing.
“You cannot reject the queen, Haye. As the Duke of Crystal-mot, you have an obligation....”
“To the king, Lord Rhog, not the queen,”
“We all know she usually gets what she wants, my friend. Is it wise to openly stand against her?” Lord Rhog asked.
“Openly? My dear friend, the queen's petty schemes have not a speck of dust in my nightmares,”
“Lord Stellden, you have always been one incapable of knowing when to fear,” Lord Rhog said in frustration. He feared for his old-time friend. The queen schemes, yes. But this time, she is dead set on making this happen. She has every intention of seizing the kingdom by force if necessary. You hold high regards for death, yet less for fear?”
“No, my dear old friend, it is you who has not opened a ciere with death, not I,” Lord Stellden said.
“For once, my friend.... the queen is clear to those in her trust who her enemy is,”
“The same enemy you ought not make yours, Lord Rhog. I am willing to bet that the queen's agitation is not from her enemy but from her supporters. If I can stand on my wealth of experience, I’d say others even in the King’s Counsel are standing on theirs,”
Lord Stellden warned.
“Why can't you all see sense? The opposition and the queen, I am sure the one with power is as clear as a roster's burnt behind,”
“Power, my friend is not of he who holds the cards or the one who uses it. It is he who sees those who hold and those who use and even those who see as well. Rumours of Lady Wickshire and whispers are more than whispers. The queen is trying to drown by doing this and I’m willing to bet she will,” Lord Stellden sipped his tea.
***
The king of Juhntt laid on his bed, light in thought, unlike his physician whose bald head and brows were greased with sweat.
“My king, you need not resort to this,” he protested, earning a look from the king.
“My wife intends me dead. You confirmed the potent nature of this slow killing drought yourself,”
“Then handle it, sire. As king, you can....” the physician started.
“Oh, I’m well aware of what I can or cannot do to my wife. But I’m sure there shall be protests from her supporters. People supposed to support me,”
“Then why pretend that the potion lives within you doing as intended?”
“My dear wife thinking I’m dying will not try to kill me and this is time more than ever to retract myself from her company,”
“Retract, sire?”
“She has with her own hands, started a fight she cannot win. It is but her greed alone that drew her to the cleaver's edge,”
“She intends to have total control of the council. Trying to flush the power of Lady Wickshire is her error. But what has this got to do with lying about your health?”
“And right she is. Lady Wickshire has in her command too many in my service and everyone's service. But trying to fight her head-on is her error. This is where I step aside as she falls, pretending to be dying as she intends me to,”
“And Lady Wickshire; will she actually stand against the queen? She seems in every way, aloof of the queen's plans”
“I don’t fancy myself wise in the matters of the lady, my friend. But one ought not to be scared when she does something, but when she does nothing. Given that she rarely does a thing, one ought to wonder what might happen if she does,” the king said, his voice a shade of grave never heard by his friend before.