Kingdom's Vice Series: Journey to Alleria ( #1 2014) #Wattys2015

Chapter Thirty-Four

I fall to my knees as the air leaves me in one breath. The pain is indescribable. I cannot liken it to anything else I know—for it is the kind of pain I never want to feel again. But, Alec is enduring it now, for how much longer I do not know. Duhamas has a hand on my back, trying to sooth me, while Faeore stays weeping in a corner, since she emerged from her chamber moments ago.

Duhamas leaves in and whispers to me through my hair, ‘Keep your cries softer,’ he tells me in a kind voice. His words betray his tone, though. ‘If you cry too loud you’ll alarm the King and he’ll ask questions.’

I nod and weep in silence as I bear the pain. The pain I feel must be nothing compared to what Alec is going through, for the bond is still with us, but weaker since he tossed the pearls away.

‘How long do you think he will last?’ I turn to Duhamas, my eyes pleading for an answer.

He looks at me gravely and pulls my hair back from my face, a stray strand sticking to my wet cheeks. ‘What I think does not matter, but I do hope that he will last longer than the swordsman.’

‘Is there a way...?’

He shakes his head grimly, ‘No. The pain he feels is the pain that is due.’

My heart pangs then. How can he say such a thing about Alec?

‘You—I...Alec,’ I begin shakily, ‘You think he deserves this?’

He smiles, ‘No, I do not. But I fear that this was the consequence we all knew was coming. He took the risk, we all did. We have no one to blame but ourselves for now.’ He says. He speaks without malice, but with all the kindness he can muster. ‘He loves you, that’s all you need to know.’

I nod, ‘Yes,’

He stands up and leaves me for a moment, but his hand still rests on my back. ‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ he tells me, ‘I will attend to Faeore.’

I nod and watch him leave the courtyard without another word.

~.~.~.~

‘Our enemy is upon us!’ I hear a man yell at the top of his voice, panic and alarm laced in his words.

Soldiers scramble for their positions at the balcony, and I see Uncle standing atop the fortress, on the highest platform.

‘Archers ready the arrows!’ he commands from his location. The archers are behind him in three neatly formed rows, with another six rows below in a lower platform. They stand ready to let their arrows fly.

I see the ships hit the shoreline and line upon line of armoured men come spilling out of the cabins. All clad in gold, I fear them most, for I know what the gold represents. A feeling rises up inside me—there was a time when I would have spoken ill of another in order to acquire gold as polished as theirs was, a time when I would have done or said anything to possess what I could not have. I hate Bardhelm more now than I ever did. Tears jump into my eyes when Redermarke leaps from the deck of his ship and into the water, where it meets his knees. He draws his sword from his sheath and approaches the wall.

‘Come out O vain King!’ he snickers, ‘Let us look upon thy face and adore thee, or I shall declare your kingdom besieged!’

His men behind him laugh mockingly. There are many of them, for the five ships must have carried at least fifty in each.

Uncle cocks his head, but says nothing for a long moment. ‘Would it please you, child, if you were to look upon my face on an equal level?’

Redermarke grins, ‘I would please me so,’ he replies with a shout. ‘But before you come down from your highness, I will request that you bring her out with you.’