Heir to the Empire

47. For the Realm - Ethelston

"My Lord, this is a perilous decision!" Jarendrud spoke as he struggled to keep in stride with the brisk pace that Ethelston had set.

The smell of faeces, urine and death, had seemed to spur Ethelston to walk through the Ravenscourt dungeons with even more purpose than he had before. The last time he walked through this dank dark place, the dungeon was somewhat empty, now with the Black Knife Syndicate in disarray, the dungeons and the assortment of unpleasant smells seemed to have grown exponentially.

"What would you have me do? I do not take this decision lightly." Ethelston replied an element of frustration brewed harshly within his voice.

"Wait, take stock, do not make a rash decision," replied Jarendrud

Ethelston stopped abruptly, despite the almost incapacitating smell of urine barraging his nostrils. "This is not a decision I take lightly. I may despise the man, but he is still my uncle. Yet the defence of Ravenscourt comes before the welfare of my family. How many knights took their leave since word of battle echoed through the courts?"

"Three, my Lord," Jarendrud replied.

"Three of twenty-eight. If I had refused the Knight Inquisitor, that number would very likely be reversed." Ethelston turned briskly and continued his rapid pace.

"I understand, my Lord, however, we have no idea of the Knight Inquisitor's intentions." Jarendrud continued, desperately trying to keep up with Ethelston's broad strides.

A loud sigh escaped Ethelston's mouth, "Ithelred is known for not being kind to his prisoners. To release Millendahl to him would be considered inhumane compared to the dungeons of Ravenscourt. No member of the Darke family deserves that fate."

As Ethelston pushed open the door to the tower where Millendahl was being held, Jarendrud stopped briefly causing Ethelston also to halt his advance.

"My Lord, there's something else you need to consider, something I possibly should have raised to you earlier, " Jarendrud commented, his head slightly lowered. "What if Knight Inquisitor Ithelred is the Pommel? The head of the Black Knife Syndicate?"

Ethelston turned suddenly towards his spymaster; a small smile crept onto his face. "Do you say this in jest?"

"I wish I did, but he is one of the knights that I have not ruled out as a potential. He has the infrastructure; he has the means; he has the motive."

"Motive?" Ethelston scoffed, "and what motive would that be?"

"Power, my Lord."

A scowl forced its way in place of the smirk. "Knight Inquisitor Ithelred is the second most powerful man in the Ravenscourt realm. He had always been supremely loyal to my father; your comments make little to no sense." Ethelston responded angrily.

"The second most powerful is not the first, and with support from Isovine, Ravenscourt is not far from being declared a kingdom and a kingdom needs a king," Jarendrud explained. "My Lord, I know of his love for your father, but your father has not been the head of Ravenscourt for quite some time. Perhaps he wishes to place Millendahl back on the seat of the raven to use as a puppet for his own means?"

"And perhaps your words are extremely far fetched!" Ethelston responded with a raised voice. Looking towards the eyes of his closest confidante, Ethelston knew he needed to take his words seriously, but the pain that another member of his closest ally's could be attempting to manipulate events against him hurt so profoundly.

"My apologies, my Lord," Jarendrud replied, bowing his head in response.

Ethelston felt a tinge of regret at his irritation. "I must apologise, old friend. I know you mean well, but your words are hard to accept," he said, placing his hand on Jarendrud's shoulder.