Days of the Dead Book 2: The Beggar's Tomb

Chapter 4: Sweet Jesus not this again

Gideon
Elis rapidly clears the room, which is remarkable considering the only person he actually wants to leave is his mother. Like, we act like it's more people but it's just her, three of us walk out then back in. Then Rhiannon makes the point the children can go to their lessons, so a nanny takes Myrddin and Oisin volunteers to take Lowri and Jac to their sparring practice, well aware he can get an update from me later.
The rest of us, being Dancer, Sadie, myself, Rhiannon and Elis, and as always Gareth and the Duke. Well, we don't stay because we're in the breakfast room but we move as a pack generally to the library, our closest private meeting place.  No, the library doesn't have any books in it, King Henry took them back in Season 1 he has yet to give them back. We've got a few, but like it's mostly empty and a nice reminder of why we don't trust English people.
"What exactly does it say?" Elis asks, putting a hand through his hair.
"It's from Prince Harry's scribe, I assume, but—he signed it," Rhiannon says, holding it up. I come over to look.
"That's his hand," I sigh, "He wrote it."
"So we think it's true?" Gareth asks.
"He writes to say that his mother, the Queen, passed peacefully after a short illness. Her state funeral is in a few days time, the Welsh court's presence is requested," Rhiannon says, sighing a little, "I don't think he'd use his mother's death to trick us."
"But like, what are the odds she's actually dead though? Like, seriously. They don't die they just—evolve into more evil people over on that side of the mountains. Seriously. She's probably fine, they're English they're just trying to kill us it's like their hobby," Dancer says. Before that sounds really racist he's English. He was born in England. We've all just suffered at King Henry's hands a little too much.
"He's a kid, right?" Gareth asks, shrugging.
"He's a teenager but —he's Henry's kid," Sadie says.
"I don't generally agree with Dancer but," the Duke shrugs, "There's almost no way this isn't a trap."
"Gideon?" Elis looks at me, "You're not saying much."
I sigh, shrugging a bit. They know I have a knowledge to some extent of the future, but not exactly how. "I had reason to believe she would die, young yes. But by my estimates that should have been a couple of years ago, now, she outlived it. But—doesn't mean it still wasn't going to happen eventually."
"But a sudden fever?" Sadie looks at me.
"Could be a nice way of saying miscarriage, or complications of childbirth, " I say, gently, "Pretty, common way to die."
"She wasn't pregnant King Henry hasn't been in the country for months I know I'm counting," Dancer says.
"Why am I always the one who has to say this? Her husband being home doesn't mean she couldn't have been pregnant. Come on, he is literally never here," I sigh. I know for a fact, well almost a fact, she's having an affair but that's kind of personal. I feel bad. Like, that's her business and the identity of her man is private.
"Gideon's right. Odds are she had an affair—and people do—die all the time, we don't know if she was sick, we haven't even seen her since last year," Rhiannon says.
"Yeah, have we even seen her in public since last year?" Sadie asks.
"Ooo, do we think he killed her?" Dancer asks.
"How many conspiracy theories do you have on this?" I ask him.
"Seven so far. In most of them she's not even dead she's just hiding," Dancer says.
"Why though?" Gareth asks.
"Lots of reasons," Elis scoffs.
"Okay that's still a little far fetched," Sadie says.
"Yes tiring of royal life I understand, fully, but leaving her children?" Elis asks.
"I'm usually one for far fetched theories but, it would take a lot of organization plus abandoning her children?" I ask.
"Come on, people. She was married to King Henry," Dancer sighs.
"Oh."
"Oh."
"Fair."
"That's—true."
"He makes a good point."
"Oh."
"In theory she had to share a bed with that man. And every single little child is as evil as him you've met them all.  And she gave birth to them. Five of them. So she spent more than what twenty minutes around him, at least five times? Why would you not want to leave?" Dancer asks.
"Ew."
"Ew."
"Ew."
"Don't give us those images."
"Gross."
"Never say that again."
"But I have a point," Dancer says, "She's had years."
"Okay—okay, I agree she might be alive given—that evidence. However, that doesn't tell us what to do right now?" Elis asks.
"Oh, simple. We're not going anywhere she's probably not even dead," Dancer says, idly.
"Can we do that?" Sadie asks.
Gareth shrugs a little that it doesn't strictly involve him.
"We can't do that," Elis sighs, a little, "Look, we've all met Prince Harry. He's not trying to trick us. His father would, yes, him, no."
"No, he'd not be doing that," I agree.
"It is a state funeral," Rhiannon says, "We have to go at least for a day or two. She's technically the queen of our nation—and—she was kind enough to me when I did meet her. If the poor woman is dead, it feels awful not to go to her funeral."
"I don't put it past King Henry to try something, his wife's funeral or no," the Duke says.
"Nor do I. That's why you remain here. With the children," Elis says.
"Why?" The Duke asks, frowning a little, "And you go alone?"
"Yes, for one I have reasonable faith in Gideon and Sadie. Worst case scenario King Henry has some new diabolical trap laid, and we're all poisoned or dead—in which case you're back here, fully ready to secure our boarders and protect Wales, as regent for our perfectly safe Princess and Prince of Wales," Elis says, heavily, still leaned against the door, "Rhiannon, you can stay if you like. Plead illness, childbearing, that manner of thing."
"No," she shakes her head, "We're safer in numbers. The children are fine holed up here in the castle with their grandmother and uncle."
"If we ask Oisin to stay over he will," I offer up, "Gives us a wizard here."
"Good, do," Rhiannon nods, "Also, we can't let on we're this ready to rebel."
"Up to you. I'm not asking you to go to Windsor on Christmas," Elis smiles, dryly.
"We'll be home in a few days," Rhiannon nods, smiling a little, "In all likelihood it is straightforward—well, as straightforward as anything at Windsor ever is."
"Which is to say entirely bent," Elis nods, "All right, unless anyone has any objections?"
We shake our heads a bit, looking around at each other to confirm.
"All right then,  first off when I leave I'll go brief the Duchess, yes you're welcome Jac. Jac, you're better able to prepare Harlech for war than I, you know best how to do that. Gareth, you'll come with myself and my wife, to Windsor,  minimal weapons, I'm betting on the Windsor staff not being cognizant of our relationship, and you being able to blend in with our party, and in turn spy a bit and be prepared to bolt back to Wales with news at the first sign of trouble," Elis says, nodding.
"Done," Gareth nods.
"Sadie, you're our court wizard obviously, but for the duration I'd prefer you travelled with my wife's party. I'd sooner a bodyguard on her than not, and you can get her out at the first sign of danger, understood?" Elis asks.
"We're not leaving you," Rhiannon sighs.
"You're having a child, so you have to do as I say or something of that kind? Seriously, you and the unborn baby, could lose your lives easier than I at the moment. I'm close to expendable with a healthy brother, daughter, and son back here in Wales," Elis says, folding his arms.
Wow, gee, Gideon this all sounds very grim you were invited to a funeral, why are all of you acting like you're going to into a dinner party hosted by Hannibal Lecter? *gestures broadly to the events of last six books* it just so happens King Henry has never not been the final boss. So. There you have it.
"I'll do it," Sadie says, nodding.
"I'll die with him. It's completely fine. I'm looking forward to it," Dancer winks.
"We are all going to strive not to die. However, we'd be fools if we went in there without a plan," Elis says.
"We stay in the same room," Rhiannon says, "And we don't let them split us up." For a fast recap, I realize it's been shown here but I haven't talked about it much. Nobles don't normally share a bedroom. Up till modern times, it was very lower class for a man and woman to share a bedroom, all night. Ergo, nobles would typically get separate rooms. Now some nobles might enjoy sharing a room or having easy access to the other, but it's not as common. Rhiannon's point is they'd put them across the hall or down the hall, to pick them off one by one. By staying together they can't do that.
"Agreed," Elis nods, "We're there for their benefit, no reason we can't primarily keep our own company."
"Bet you don't have mourning maternity clothes for me," Rhiannon says, a little amused.
"You bet wrong. My mother is very old, and I am always prepared," Elis also smiles, "We'll see what works you'll have to be fitted obviously, we all need to be in mourning attire, and I have to make a speech. Damn, I hate making speeches."
"Aw, I'll come with," Rhiannon says.
"You'd better. All right—ah Gideon yes I see you vibrating over there eating your fist, yes I have a job for you," Elis says.
Please let it be going 007 in Windsor. Please.  I really want to know what's going on. I cock my head like a Labrador.
"I realize this is probably using you more than a bit. But. Can you possibly go and find out what is going on at that castle? Ahead of us? We're due there in three days which means we ride out mid day tomorrow. I'd sooner not wait that long if King Henry is in his usual state of conniving some sort of trap. If you could go and scout out the general lay of the land if you will. It would be much appreciated," Elis says.
"Absolutely, I will not let you down!" I say, happily.
"You can't just have him appear in their castle and start asking questions," Gareth says.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can," Elis says.
"He can. They won't even wonder at this point, like it's extremely typical I just show up," I say.
"Just—see if they are actually planning a funeral. When King Henry is to arrive, things of that kind. Even if you distract them from plans to murder us, that would be much appreciated," Elis says.
"Can do," I nod, bouncing a little, "Do you want an update tonight?"
"We'll take no news as good news, you don't need to waste your strength," Rhiannon says.
"She's right. Unless you learn something important namely 'don't bother coming, they're all mental', then just find out what you can, and await our arrival. I know you can bop back and forth a good bit, but let's not test it," Elis says.
"All right," I nod.
"Especially considering we may need you to go back here and check on the children," Rhiannon says.
"They mind me, we'll be fine," The Duke says. That's true, they completely do listen to him. His boy is here too and his wife, who they're good for. I do dislike making Lowri responsible for her baby brother's magic, but I'll promise to make it up to her, maybe pay her somehow? Bring her a toy from London? She'll like that I'll ask what she wants. That's as fair as we're going to get at the moment.
"I'm sure you will, Jac, I just want to maximize use of Gideon's—movements," Elis says, waving a hand at me generally.
"I'll manage. I'm getting stronger anyway. Worst case scenario this is, like everything else, some trick of Henry's and I fly us all home on the dragon," I say.
"Oh I have ten scenarios worse than that," Dancer says.
"That's a fine way to get home," Rhiannon smiles a little, leaning on the desk.
"All right. Unless anyone has thought of anything else?" Elis looks around at us, "Meeting adjourned, go prepare to leave. All of you will have meetings with me for mourning clothes. Starting with Gideon because he's going first, ah, Dancer will arrange that. For now, Jac tell your wife, I'll go tell the Duchess," Elis says.
"I'll tell the children," Rhiannon says.
"Thank you," Elis smiles at her grimly, "Gareth, you're free to select who you like of the longbowmen to come if you'd like company or aid or something of that kind beyond my palace guard."
"I"ll do that," Gareth says, squeezing Elis shoulder as he goes to the door.
"Come help me pack," Rhiannon says, to Sadie.
"I can't believe Henry did this to us on Christmas," I say.
"I can."
"I can."
"I can."
"I can."
"I can."