Reclaiming England. (Nano Novel 2016)

Chapter Nineteen: Betrayal

     

"Sire!" Morderd called, rushing towards Arthur as he returned from a hunting trip. The king slowed his horse, and looked down at the young knight.

   "Yes, Sir Morderd?" he asked. The knight licked his lips, looking nervous.

   "Sire... I have grievous news," he said slowly. Arthur felt a stab of fear – what had happened?

   "Speak," he said, keeping his fear hidden.

   "The rumours are true."

  Arthur closed his eyes, not overly surprised. Everyone knew of the affair between Lancelot and Guinevere – they were barely rumours anymore. Morderd was still speaking, and Arthur forced himself to listen.

  "Sir Agravaine and I, we did as we had planned. We waited until Lancelot had gone into her and then caught them in the act. Lancelot has fled, and he has killed Agravaine."

   Arthur bit his lip, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He nodded once, turning to those with him.

   "Gwaine, care for my horse," he said, dismounting. The knight nodded, slipping out of his own saddle and taking the reins of both horses.

   He watched his king in sympathy, saddened for his friend and king. Arthur would now have to decide what to do about the affair; he would have to kill both Lancelot and Guinevere. And Gwaine wanted no part in it – Guinevere was his queen, and Lancelot was his friend.

   Arthur stepped inside the palace, Morderd speaking to him. He didn't hear much of what his son was saying, his mind full with his problem.

   He finally made it to his rooms, collapsing into a chair once inside.

  "Well, Morderd. What should I do?"

  "You know the law, sire," Morderd said hesitantly. "You know what you have to do."

   Arthur covered his face with his hand, closing his eyes. He did know what he had to do, and he hated the fact. But he had no choice.

  "Very well," he said, trying to keep emotion out of his voice. "The queen shall be burnt at the stake in two days time." His voice broke, and he buried his face in his hands.

   "I am sorry, sire," Morderd said, bowing slightly and leaving his king to his grief.

The house Kingsly was staying in wasn't far away, only about half an hour from the airport. Maria sat in the back, staring blankly out the window. Katrina couldn't be dead – she couldn't be. Surely there was something else; surely Masters wouldn't be that cruel?

   But the memory of the line of prisoners falling forward in death told her otherwise. She bit her lip, stopping the tears from falling and trying to make herself think of anything else. Like what Kingsly would say to them.

   She had only seen Ryan Kingsly in pictures, never in person. While she had often dreamed of meeting him in person and putting a bullet through his head, she never really thought she would actually meet him. He was the most influential man in the whole world, and she was a nobody.

    The car pulled up in front of a large mansion, windows glaring down at her. The door was opened and she was forced out, Arthur with her.

   Callum and Lance joined them, and the four of them forced up the steps.

The building was astounding – Maria had no idea someone could live in such luxury – and for only one person. She had no idea how Kingsly could live in the place; it was far too large for only one person. She had heard that he had a daughter, but never much about the girl.