A Brother's Love - Book 3 - The Frencolian Chronicles (complete)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Both Chatelain and Luke had stepped out, intending to follow Elissa, but Elliad gestured to his knights and several moved to block their way. Luke stared back into the eyes of the king, experiencing an overpowering feeling of helplessness and dread.

"Be seated!" King Elliad commanded, and attendants moved to fill goblets with wine.

Sabin brought a pitcher of fruit juice to his master who shot him a grateful nod. The king was sure to order toasting and speeches and it would be considered the height of bad manners if the baron did not reply to Elliad's good wishes, if such were forthcoming.

By now, the father had accepted that his wife would return with their daughter. Any other course would provoke Elliad's ill-concealed wrath. Chatelain was nervously pleased that Ivan had applied the 'Black pox' so they were barely discernible and appeared to be just forming under the skin. The juice had dyed the skin and the fake pox would wear off with time. The baron doubted that Elliad would be able to prove the pox to be false; but Jobyna would have to present herself before this large company before her 'illness' would be believed.

It serves me right, he thought, I had to meddle. When will I learn? His conscience troubled him with the fact that they had told a lot of untruths of late. A sudden painful dart entered his mind as he remembered Jobyna's inability to act. What would happen if this diabolical man, who called himself king, questioned Jobyna about her illness? Jobyna always told the truth. 

The drumming of Elliad's strong, lean fingers upon the table-top drew the baron's mind back to their present quandary. Jobyna would not have had time to dress yet. Chatelain started inwardly as Luke almost leapt out of his skin at the sound of the king slapping the flat of his open palm hard on the table.

"Children play games, Baron! And children bore me. We'd better send a grown-up to end this intolerable interruption to our program." The king raised his wrist level with his shoulder and clicked his fingers, just once. A huge knight, like a giant, bowed and strode toward the doors. 

"Don't come back without the baron's daughter, and the baroness, Berg. Move it man! We don't want to send up our whole army."

A snicker rose up, but as men digested the anger on the king's face, the sarcastic mirth died as fast as it had been born. Elliad was hungry and his patience had reached its limit. He tapped his goblet for a refill and decided if he reached the bottom of this drink before they came—I've had it! —he thought, then relaxed back in the chair as his mind told him; Berg can be counted on.

A stir at the door expanded into action, and attendants lined up, expecting an announcement to be made. But the knave who was to make the announcement was too shocked to speak. Before him stood the gigantic knight, Berg, with Jobyna in his arms. The beauty of the baron's youngest daughter had been discussed in Frencberg, for a number of years, a beauty that was said to have been matched only by her bravery. The young knave stared at the congealing blood on her face and the swelling of her eye, the bruise on her forehead, which had caused the top of her noise to swell —this was not a beautiful sight.

When the knave did not speak, Berg strode past him, into the great hall, conveying his charge to the king. Had he been carrying Jobyna more carefully, the king might have considered that the scene was a continuation of the charade, but as it was, her head swung pendulously and her insensible state was obvious.

A chain reaction; everyone in the room, stood, mouths open, gaping at the spectacle.

Berg's strides were so long that Elissa and Ivan, following, had to run to keep pace. The doctor carried his bag, believing that the king would allow him to have the patient relocated to the dispensary where he could tend her injury in private.