Conqueror Queen

Chapter 8

Aiya was taken to the tower, high above the city of York. Her head was spinning out of control as she fought back the bile that burned her throat. James had called her mortal enemy, 'father'. She remembered Jaril telling her James was the bastard son of an English Lord but no other information had been provided and she didn't think to ask on it. She didn't know if she could trust him now, she didn't know if he had known she would be there or if he hadn't expected to see her. She needed answers.

The guards had dragged her all the way up the woodened spiral staircase that led into a small, circular chamber. The heavy door was locked from the outside, a small barred window had been cut into it so she could see who ever came up the stairs. One window provided some light and a view towards the west, she watched as the sun began to set. A tiny cot and an old wool blanket sat in the center of the room, a wooden chamber pot next to it. She laid down on the uncomfortable bed and starred at the ceiling, a birds nest rested on one of the wood beams and she wondered if she would have some company in the lowly dwellings as she closed her eyes.

~

"Where have you been all these years, my son?"

James stood in the doorway of his fathers chambers, unsure if he wanted to enter entirely. Hemming sat in his favorite chair near the window watching him. 

"I was...discovering myself," He replied, hesitantly.

"You did not leave here on the best terms," Hemming began to pour wine into two silver goblets, handing one to James who had finally entered the room and sat in the chair opposite of him.

"I wonder why that was," He said, taking a sip of the wine, letting the bitterness sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing it.

"Why must you be so difficult? Let us speak of something else," He waved his hand, dismissing James's words.

James stood and walked to the window, peering out as night fell on the courtyard. Guards began lighting torches along the walls and their shadows danced wickedly in the light.

"What was with the girl?" He asked, finally.

"Hmm? Oh, a defiant servant I bought not long after you left. She's been returned to me,"

"She doesn't act like a servant girl," He smirked at his father.

"I told you she was defiant. I will put her in her place," Hemming stood and walked over to James, putting his aged hand on his shoulder. "Will you be staying?" He asked.

James looked at his father and for a brief moment he felt nothing but hate for the man again. He was the same man who allowed his cruel wife to beat both him and his poor mother who was still just a girl when she birthed him, she was not yet sixteen winters when Hemming coaxed her into his bed with promises of grapes, wine and bread for the starving servant girl. When his mother fell ill and died, James was only five but he still remembered her. Hemming had allowed him to stay in the castle out of pity and the fact that his wife had yet to give him a proper son but little attention did he pay him. Instead he had spent most of his childhood with the servants, cooking and working in the stables, tending to the horses.

As the years went on and he got older, Hemming began to notice him more and more. His wife had given him two daughters over the years but still no sons, so he took an interest in his bastard. All the years of neglect had taken their toll however and Jago felt nothing but loathing for the Lord. He allowed his father to educate him though, he wanted to know all he could about the world in hopes one day he would be able to see it. By the time he was fourteen he had been well trained in the art of combat and had become quite the scholar, even schooling a few of his tutors in certain subjects. They often complained to his father of his arrogance and stubbornness and refused to continue their lessons. James didn't mind, he found solace in the village, indulging in women and drink on his fathers coin.

On his fifteenth birthday he announced to his father he had fallen in love with a girl named Eanwin and wished to marry her. Being of low birth, Hemming had forbidden it. So in secret he beseeched his beloved to meet him in the woods beyond York and run away with him. Hemming had learned of the secret rendezvous and ordered his men to intercept Eanwin. As the men waited for her to leave her home, they spooked her horse, causing it to reared up, knocking her from the saddle and breaking her neck on the fall.

When she did not meet him, he raced to her home in search of her. Learning of his fathers treachery from her mother he returned to the castle only to find his father waiting for him. 

Hemming confessed his feelings for the boy had grown and as he was getting older he  wanted Jago to be his rightful heir. Therefore he could not allow him to marry the common girl for he had to marry a noble woman instead to carry on his legacy. 

He wanted to kill his father but knew it was not possible, so to spite him he refused his offer and left York, leaving Hemming with no heir, no legacy.

He never wanted to return and only did so now to try and save Aiya. To think if he had stayed, he would have met her sooner before she had known Ragda. Maybe she would have loved him instead. What a small world it really was.

"Yes, I'll be staying. If that's alright?" He smiled, coyly.

"Grand! We shall throw a feast! And our main entertainment shall be my slave girl!"