When Eyan stood, his chest stung. The front of his gambeson was covered in blood. He got the sense that it looked worse than it was, but even so he could feel himself getting lightheaded once again. With no hesitation, Thea ran to his side to support him. Neither said a word, nor did any of the spectators.
Eyan walked toward the throne, the semicircle of guards splitting for him. Thea helped sit him down gently as he panted and rested. His throat was icy cold and it hurt to breathe, but he managed to speak, “Are you going to clean up this mess,” he carelessly waved his hand to the body of his father on the floor, where a pool of blood had formed and began trickling down the steps, “or just leave it there in my throne room?”
At once, the servants set about gathering rags and mops, the soldiers gathered the body and took it away to be prepared for interment. The lord’s crown had fallen from his head during the fight, and Yannen picked it up. He polished it a bit with his sleeve where it had come scuffed, and offered it to Eyan on one knee.
“I offer you this crown, as well as my sincere apologies for my deception.” Yannen seemed sincere enough to Eyan, but the nature of the offense sickened him still.
“I will deal with you later.” he said with as much venom as he could manage. Yannen scrambled away to a dark corner of the room.
The feast guests were still standing around. Most were shocked and awkwardly wondering what they were to do next. A few glanced backwards at the meal that had only just begun when it was so interrupted by Eyan’s confrontation. Trepidation was the mood, and Eyan felt the eyes on him.
“There is still food in this hall. I’ll not see it wasted. Eat!” With that, most were satisfied and rushed back to their seats, digging into their plates. Conversations started up quickly, with everyone excitedly speculating on the nature of the conflict, the possible political ramifications, the rescue of the Princess, and just what kind of ruler this young man would turn out to be. Fortunately, on that last count, Eyan earned high marks from full bellies.
The squire from the keep’s gates re-entered at this time. He stopped for a moment as there was a new occupant of the throne since he came in not twenty minutes earlier. He caught the body of Lord Richard being carried away by guards and hesitantly approached the dirty, bloody Lord Eyan.
“I am unsure whether to offer my congratulations or condolences, my lord.” the squire said with a bow.
“Doesn’t matter.”
The squire cleared his throat before continuing, “Very well then, please accept both. I am sorry to disturb you at this time, but there are two of the king’s men asking to see the Lord of Benold. They say they are conducting an investigation that requires your attention, and that the matter is most urgent. I can tell them what has transpired and offer an audience at a later time, if it pleases you.”
“No, send them in.” Thea said from her spot next to the throne. “Tell them the Lord of Benold will see them now.” The squire looked to Eyan for confirmation.
“What are you looking at me for? You heard what she said, go!”
“At once, my lord.” The squire excused himself with a bow and started out of the great hall.
“What’s your name, squire? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
“Benjamin, my lord.”
“Benjamin. If you would, please see to it that no one in Benold goes hungry. The stores of the keep are open per the lord’s command.”
“For the feast, my lord?”
“Until I say otherwise.”
“Of course, my lord.” The squire stood, waiting.
“You are dismissed.” The squire left.
Thea sat on the armrest of the throne, ducking her head under the antlers. She wiped some of the mess from Eyan’s face. “A bold first move, opening the stores.”
“No less than inviting those hunters in.”
“But less bold than challenging your father to a duel in the middle of a feast with the full knowledge that he could call on any warrior to champion him and actually win the fight.” she teased.
“You underestimate my skill, Lady Thea.” he said with a slight chuckle, hurting his ribs, “Even so, I have to admit I wasn’t thinking that clearly.”
“Maybe it was fate, then.”
“Maybe.” Another moment passed as they waited for their new guests to arrive. Thea pulled open Eyan’s gambeson and examined the wound. “How bad is it?” he asked.
“It’s not a dragon claw wound, you’ll be fine.”
“That’s two for a set.” Eyan said with a groan as Thea closed his gambeson and patted the wound.
Just then the doors flew open again. The two familiar witch hunters made haste to the throne, green cloaks flowing dramatically behind them. The one with the red feather in his hat bounded past the tables with gusto, waving the broken half of Eyan’s shield above his head. The one behind him scowled, or maybe he wasn’t scowling, but it looked that way now that half his face was covered in a burn scar not unlike the one Eyan and Thea knew graced the shoulder of the lead hunter.
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“MY LORD. MY LORD. MY….lord.” The lead hunter stalled as he looked up to see that boy from the woods upon the throne of Benold, and the witch he hunted at his side.
“Don’t be shy, come on up.” Beckoned Thea, making a show of curling her hand as if to cast a spell. The hunter quivered in his boots, looking to his companion for reassurance. The disfigured hunter was just as rattled and offered no comfort to his officer.
“You don’t want to keep her waiting.” the new lord said with some small amount of pleasure seeing the previously intimidating figures at such a loss. The hunters slowly approached the throne. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Eyan said, “that’s far enough. Now, why don’t you introduce yourselves so we can all get acquainted?”
The witch hunters looked around the great hall, packed with nobles and quickly filling up even more with arriving guests who whispered among themselves as they saw who sat upon the throne.
“I am Huntmaster Garrett...and this is my partner, Marten.” he said with a tremble, then added with a vindictive glare at Thea, “We used to have another – Grom – but we lost him recently on the hunt.”
“Intriguing.” Thea said innocently, “The name sounds familiar but I can’t quite place it.” Garrett was practically squirming out of his boots now.
“Well met, Huntmaster. I am Eyan Formar, Lord of this humble land we call Benold. This is my betrothed, Princess Thea…dasia. Of Minhold.” Saying her full name felt awkward in his mouth, like he was trying out a new tongue twister. He decided he would use her real name after this. “Princess Thea and I are told that you are the king’s men. How fortunate! Maybe you can be the ones to give him the good news that his daughter has been rescued, the dragon slain, and the fiefdom ready to claim. That is, if your hunt doesn’t take you too much longer. I can send my own messenger, too.”
“I don’t believe I mentioned I was on a hunt right now, my lord.” Garrett said, gaining some measure of confidence at the perceived slip-up.
“Two hunters enter my hall, disturbing a feast, telling me they have some matter of great importance to discuss with me, what else could it be?” Eyan said loudly, practically shouting so everyone could hear over their own discussions.
Garrett and Marten cringed visibly. “Of course. I’m so sorry to bother you, we should be on our way.” Garrett surrendered and started to turn away.
“I don’t believe you were dismissed.” Thea said, stopping the hunters cold in their tracks. “As my husband-to-be said: you have disturbed us with some matter of great importance, I would ask that you show us the basic courtesy of not leaving before sharing your concerns with us. Is this how the king- my father’s men represent him?”
Garrett was too stunned to speak. He had been completely outmaneuvered. Marten saw his commander freeze up and took the broken shield from his hands. Sheepishly, he presented it to Eyan and Thea and half-heartedly said, “We were tracking a witch not long ago. We found her with a caravan traveling to Benold and a young man protecting her bearing the symbol of your noble family.” he gulped. Eyan and Thea said nothing, but each raised an eyebrow at the hunter. “We followed the caravan here to find out why a member of your household might be knowingly traveling in the company of witches.”
“It could have been stolen. Did you think of that?” Eyan said calmly.
Marten silently cursed the room full of witnesses before replying, “Of course, my lord. But we wanted to follow all leads, so to speak.”
“Well perhaps you ought to follow some other leads before interrupting a lord’s feast, then! Leave my keep if you have nothing further to say, and do take the news of Thea’s return to the King, please.”
“Of course, my lord.” Marten bowed and nearly tripped over himself to run out of the hall with Garrett.
“That shield is property of this land, leave it!” Thea called out before they reached the door. It clattered to the ground and the hunters disappeared.
When they were sure the conversations of the feasting guests would cover their voices, Thea said, “That was fun.”
“You were excellent.”
“As were you. Not an hour in your throne and already you wield it like an expert.”
“I couldn’t do it without you.” Thea hugged Eyan’s head and pulled up a seat of her own.
The music once again picked up, the table in front of the throne was reset and new food was brought out. The mood had been fully repaired and Eyan began to feel calm once again. More than any wound, though, his heart hurt. His father he could care less about. Maybe a month ago he would have mourned, and he hated to admit it, but seeing his corpse was honestly a weight off his mind. Finding out about Yannen’s betrayal, the trust he had put into him to carry those correspondences...he would need to figure out what to do about that.
Most of all, of course, he felt awful for Frederick. If his father was right about anything, it’s that Frederick’s death was his fault. He should have known better than to tie himself so closely to Frederick, and to be so careless about it. Eyan thought of the number of partners he’d had over the years, none of them were like Frederick. None were so close to him, and thus all were safe and in good health.
A terrible thought popped into Eyan’s mind. Mother and sister! He started out of his seat, and called over the spymaster. Spymaster Gren was a short, unassuming fellow: clean shaven, no distinguishable scars, plain gray and brown robes.
“Dispatch a man. Look for two women, a mother and daughter: Mathilda and Tiva Hartlock. You are to bring them to the keep immediately. Tell them it concerns Frederick.”
When he said Frederick’s name, Gren grimaced a little, but said, “It will be done.”
Eyan added with a shameful sigh, under his breath “If you don’t find them in their home...check the brothels.” Not only had he failed to keep Frederick safe, but even his family was caught in the carnage of his careless heart. Gren nodded and walked away to another room.
“It’s true,” Thea said, turning to Eyan, “there is much yet to do. But be happy for now. If not for yourself, then for me. I don’t think I’ve seen you really relax since we met.”
“That goes double for you, princess.”
Thea nodded in agreement. The lord and princess endured the rest of the feast with grace, making sure all the proper introductions and greetings and rituals were observed. Over the next few days, Lord Eyan dedicated a willow tree just outside town as Frederick’s Tree. Princess Thea ordered renovations be made to the keep’s highest tower, where a few eccentric souls claim to see strange colors flickering at night. Two witch hunters, wounded, ragged, and demoralized, return to Minhold with reports of a failed hunt and coincidentally news of the rescue of Princess Theadasia, who now resides with her rescuer, the newly minted Lord Eyan Formar of Benold.
~ END ~