Ageless

Chapter 37

* * * 

Hutan Fortress 

* * * 

The banquet hall of Hutan Fortress was a dim, filthy place that stank of stale ale and wine that had turned. The dark corners of the room were filled with the corpses of dead rats, but to the army of the Broken Prince who had spent years living as nomads, the castle was a luxury. The hall was filled with the voices of song, the pounding of fists and mugs on heavy wooden tables, and the raucous laughter of men that had not enjoyed themselves in quite some time. Even the normally sour prince managed looked relaxed and full of smiles. He even joined in as the leading falsetto in a particularly vulgar version of 'The Queen's Grace' that the men had picked up on the road. Cecilia discovered at an early age that it was difficult for a person of her size to get drunk, but on that night she certainly tried.

After a time, the wine began to run thin, and slowly the men began to retire to rooms of their choosing. Cecilia was about to head off to find her own accommodation when Fletcher, the prince's first scout, burst into the dining hall, red in the face and gasping for breath.

"Sir," he began, as he stumbled towards the prince, "five riders are approaching the fort on horseback...they ride with the white flags of peace."

The prince tossed his glass behind him, where it landed with a shatter on the cobblestones of the floor. "Who?"

"They claim to escort the exiled priest: Father Caollin. He requests an audience with you. "

Cecilia stood up so quickly that the legs of her chair left scrapes on the stone floor. "That scum has the nerve to request an audience with our prince? He was the False King's closest advisor for years." She turned to address the prince. "Let me treat with him, my lord. I will bring you back as many pieces of him as you desire."

The prince dismissed her offer with a wave of his hand, and turned to the servant on his right. "Go and find the best bottle of wine in this castle and have it brought to the private meeting chamber." Then he pointed at the scout. "Fletcher, go and welcome the priest and escort him inside. Inform him I will see him shortly."

Cecilia stared at him in disbelief. "Sir, is this some kind of joke?"

"No. Walk with me." He stood up, wobbling slightly, and began to walk out of the room, the giantess following him in tow. "We owe this priest our respect, though he is not to be trusted, so I want you to accompany me the meeting and watch him closely."

"You know I will guard you with my life...but this man is a traitor. He deserves nothing but a death sentence, and sharing drink with him tonight is a great insult to your allies."

The prince smiled. "On the contrary, this man has already done quite a deal to help our cause. More than most, to be frank."

"Such as?"

"He saved my life, for one. The night the King had me arrested and sentenced to death, I was thrown into the dungeons immediately. But it was Caollin who came to my aid and smuggled me out of the castle." He looked down at his boots. "And...he honored my request to deliver me the body of Queen Isabelle. We both agreed that the mockery held at the King's Lawn was a disgrace to her memory, and she deserved a proper burial by those that cared most for her. The man that kills you should not be the one to hold your sermon, it is a blasphemy."

"If that's true, then what was in the coffin that exploded at the funeral?"

"It was empty...well not completely. Filled with explosives obviously. But I already told you a thousand times I had nothing to do with that madness. As far as the father's role in that...I plan on asking him about it. He was rather quick to place the murder of the High Pontiff on me."