The Raven's Chronicles. Rage of the Wraith

Chapter 8. Long Live the Lord

The Great Hall barely contained all the castle servants and workers that had crowded inside. The guardsmen on duty closed the door. They crossed their halberds, barring the way to anyone trying to leave. It made Jules feel trapped. He almost regretted leaving Evionel alone in the infirmary. Here, more people cast him suspicious glances, but no one dared to throw insults or accusations - not while Jules kept close to his master, making sure the crowd wouldn't separate them.

Sir Kedmon and Arthur sat by the table on the dais, facing the murmuring crowd. The castle residents pressed against each other at the base of the dais, trying to get as far as possible from the broken windows. Other servants, ones that came from Stone Town had been escorted straight to the Hall the moment they crossed the gate of the castle. Now, they pushed onto their fellow workers as the guardsmen urged them further into the chamber.

"Is everyone here?" Captain Rogre elbowed his way through the crowd, moving from the chief cook to the head of the servants, counting the stablemen and gardeners. "You should have four more, shouldn't you?"

"What's going on?" somebody asked with fright.

No one answered.

The door opened and Jules looked around at it - two guards marched in, leading a bunch of people, some sobbing, many only half-dressed. Among them, the boy recognised the infirmary patients. The elderly man still limped, his foot leaving a bloody trait on the floor. One of the maidens steading him, her own legs weak under her and blood clotting on her forehead. Evionel walked by a milk-pale girl - the one she had been putting stitches on- and was bandaging the wound on her arm as they marched.

"What's the meaning of this?" Ravin stopped the guardsmen, who only gawped uncertainly. The hunter took the white-faced girl by the arm and helped her sit by the nearest table.

"Thank you, master Blake," the apprentice healeress gave him a weak smile. "Aunt Lara didn't come to the infirmary, and then the guards came and told us to go with them."

"She's still with Lady Guinevere," Jules offered Evionel his hunting knife. She thanked him quietly and used it to cut the bandage. "I'm sorry, I should have stayed with you. I shouldn't have left."

"There wasn't much you could have done."

"Silence!" Captain Rogre roared.

The Great Hall quietened as sir Kedmon stood up and went around the table to face the crowd below the dais.

"I gathered you here to make an announcement," His voice echoed between the walls.

Jules stood on his toes, but people before him prevented his view. Ravin touched his shoulder, and when the boy looked up at him, the man led him to the front of the crowd.

"My father, Lord Harald, is dead," Kedmon said. People murmured and he raised his hand to quieten them. His face, grey and sombre, was tight like a mask.

Then, with a gust of a gentle wind, a misty shape appeared right behind his shoulder. The haze took the form of a teenage girl with a cascade of golden hair falling down onto her back and framing her willowy body. She stood by Arthur, blue-eyed and tall like him, watching. Jules tugged at Ravin's sleeve and gestured toward her.

"Do you see her?"

The hunter gave a small nod.

"Just some mist," he whispered, his lips barely moving.

"I am the new Lord of Arvene," sir Kedmon said in a firm voice. "The death of my father will be kept secret for now. Whoever spreads the news, no matter if they are old or young, or how long they have been serving my family, will be considered traitors."