Sundown

gifts

"Your Grace, we are at a serious loss. We simply do not have the resources to fight for much longer and the enemy have occupied almost half the isles." Hawklin informed as Timothee and all his nobles sat in his chamber, trying to work through a strategy to follow for the days to come.

"The Holy Tower, is it safe?" Timothee asked.

"It is, my liege."

"We seemed to have a good hold by the coasts up till this morning, what went wrong?" Timothee enquired.

"After our defeat at the sea, a lot of the pirate ships and soldiers fled. That reduced our strength by almost a third." The war commander explained.

"Speaking of pirates, where is King Edmund?" The King of Brookwood asked.

"He is by the battlements, making sure that whatever is left of his host does not desert us during the night." Hawklin replied.

Timothee ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He could not figure out a way to make this work no matter how desperately he wanted it to. It seemed as though every thing that he or his council were capable of thinking about, the enemy already had a counter move planned for it.

They were all seasoned warriors after all, and he was just a boy-king. Although skilled in the battle field, he still had a lot to learn when it came to governance and politics. He knew he could trust the men that he had at hand right now, but for how long?

How long until they gave up on him, taking him for a passionate, young boy with fire in his blood, too idealistic to see practicality and be far-sighted, as most young people were, and joined hands with the winning side?

The chamber was silent and he knew all eyes were on him, waiting for their King to tell them something, anything that made sense which they could do to save their precious home, now that all doors seemed to be closing.

He had almost given up on it himself when all of a sudden, like the light at the end of a dark tunnel, his father's last words ran through his head and he had the slightest inkling of an idea, dangerous though it was, but still better than nothing.

"Summon Saoirse." He commanded.

"Your Grace?" Hawklin spoke, his voice highly dubious.

"I will not be questioned, old man." Timothee said with such finality in his voice that a shiver ran down the spines of every man present in the room.

"She will be with you in a moment, my liege." The Prime Minister said, after instructing a cup bearer to get the girl from her little room.

*

As her slender figure appeared in the room, he noticed how some of the men looked at her and wished nothing more than to draw out their eyes from their sockets for that, but he knew this was not the time for it all.

She bowed to him, as the court courtesies demanded and he acknowledged it with a nod of his head.

"Write a letter to your mother, Saoirse."

"Will be done, my liege but what should I say?" She asked, her eyes trained on the ground.

"Send word out into the town and beyond Hawklin that the heir of Elliot has been caught and shall be executed at the break of dawn if the enemy host does not surrender till then."

Saoirse's eyes widened as she looked up, tears of betrayal beginning to sting them.

"I think you know what to write in the letter now." Timothee spoke.

*

As he dismissed every other courtier, Saoirse stayed behind.

"Were you using me all this while?" Saoirse asked, not sure if she would die of the hurt before she did of the sword.

"Did you really think I would execute you?"

"I don't-"

"I won't let anyone so much as breathe down your neck, strong one. Trust me on this. Come sit with me so I can tell you what I'm planning."

*

"Dear mother/Your Highness (whichever Her Grace may prefer now),

I'm not sure about exactly what grave sin I committed for me to be excluded out of your plans like this. Why you should hold my own history and the truth about who you were from me, is still pretty incomprehensible. You left me here to fend for myself amid these hostile wolves and now that they have found out about us, they plan to have my head off.

I'm escaping the castle grounds tonight at a suitable moment to seek refuge in your encampments. I know you have no reason to let me in. It cannot be your motherly love because if you had really loved me in that way, you would have taken me with you.

Therefore, I offer you an incentive, almost as payment in exchange for the security I desire from you.

Please accept the few gifts I have managed to amass, namely, a third of the gold from the royal treasury (I managed to slit the treasurer's throat), a few maidens and stable boys who were wise enough to know that Timothee cannot overpower your host, and carts full of food for your soldiers. You know you don't have enough to keep them going should the war last another week.

If you still do not trust me, feel free to stick your dagger in my belly. I'd rather die at your hands than theirs.

Love,

Saoirse."

The messenger read out to Saoirse's mother, as she sat in her make-shift throne, amid her courtiers in the huge tent they had set up.

"Very well. Send her in." She commanded and her grip tightened just a little at the armrests of her large chair.

a/n

oh my god I cannot wait for you all to read the next few chapters!!! let me know how you are liking it so far in the comments and upvote the chapter if you enjoyed it!

Smriti x