The Twilight Affair (Part Three)

 

VII.

         
         The air trembled with the sound of four hundred soldiers marching out of the city. From the battlements Princess Isabelle Julianne Rudolf watched the men that were departing to find her. They were little more than vague shadows below, but together they looked like an ominous cloud, growing stronger with every day. How long, she thought. How long until someone recognizes her? Countless scenarios passed through her mind every night but when it happened, that would be how. She could not avoid every person who could recognize her, and sooner or later someone would and they would not be as willing as Frederick Delagel to keep silent. She was jolted from her thoughts as a voice spoke.
         “They are going to Calisca.” it was the man from the kitchen, Burrows. She did not want to speak to this man. She looked to the guard a few battlements down, perhaps Burrows was speaking to him, but the guard did not even look up, focused on the arrows he was fastening. Instead she turned, and as pleasantly as she could, she said,
         “I had heard something of that nature earlier. Why so many more, now?” she almost hesitated, was that too much? No, it would only have been the hesitation that he might have noted.
         “The region is nearly stable, they want to make sure it stays that way in this particularly delicate time.” Burrows said, satisfied with himself.
         “They’re looking for someone.” the guard said plainly, still focused on the metal arrow tip.
         “What was that?” Burrows said, sounding rather indignant.
         “The army, King Rosv wants someone found, but I didn’t hear who. But yes, that and probably what you said, that is why they are sending reenforcements.” Julia just stood along the battlements, hoping she was giving the sense it was all foreign knowledge to her. It must have been so because the two men now stared at each other, the guard unsure what Burrows would say, because he looked rather offended from being corrected. Burrows backed down first.
         “Shouldn’t be long now before this whole things is over.”
         “Excuse me.” Julia said taking her skirts and leaving the men. She met Hannah in the corridor.
         “I was just going to send for you.” she said, ushering her in the direction from whence she just came. “You brought wine to His Highness yesterday afternoon.” Julia braced for whatever admonishment would follow.
         “Yes.” 
         “You need to go get another bottle of that vintage you selected earlier because he cannot recall it.” Hannah said, and Julia did not know quite how to interpret her tone.
         “Yes, ma’am.” she began to turn.
         “And Julia” Julia looked, “You will wear only that gown now. I believe His Highness took a liking to your company yesterday, so if by chance he calls for you I do not want to go through the pains of finding an appropriate grade servants dress.” Julia’s lips began to part in protest, but Hannah stopped her.
         “Not company in that fashion,” she paused, then added “or I’d have to find another dress.” and then Hannah left her in the hallway, slightly stunned by the turn of the conversation.

         One month. That was how long the ‘stabilization’ of Calisca was to take. One month and then he could take his soliders and himself back to Montange. Lord Ambrose repeated that thought in his mind as he crossed the threshold of the enormous doors of the castle at Daneg. Lucian Gerald was the first to greet him. Lucian kneeled before him.          
         “How have you been, Lucian.”  Ambrose said, and the pair rose.
         “Well, my Lord, though you must be better yet, to have begun withdrawing from the invasion.” Ambrose laughed warmly. The young soldier knew him too well, and Lucian didn’t even serve directly under him.
         “Rienier is taking this endeavor very seriously, and would not lightly let it fall into ruin.” the lord said, ever word of it the truth.
         “Aie, that he is.”
         “How have things been moving since your return here?” Ambrose began, the two men moving into a private chamber.
         “It is difficult to say. Sebastian shows no signs of recovery, and everyone anticipates the worst.” Ambrose felt a tight and twisting feeling in his chest. “Rienier has been here for several days now, and naturally the entire castle is aware of his every waking move. Yesterday soliders left for Calisca. I believe they are to secure the land. Might I ask what your plans are, in regards to Rienier’s maneuvers.
         “Sebastian has willed than I remain in Daneg for one month until he can be sure all is secure.” he said gravely. “After that, have no doubt, I will make haste to Montange. This is Rienier’s endeavor, not mine.” Ambrose turned, his back to leave.
         “I know Sebastian may not fully understand the tensions between you and Nicholas, so he does not know the full weight of that he asks of you. But you have one a great service to your King and he knows no more loyal man than you.” he did not turn around.
         “Thank you Lucian, that will be all this evening.” Ambrose turned down the hall, and tried to ignore the grim expression he knew was on his face. He stopped in a small dark room and without illuminating anything he reached down and picked up a heavy trunk that was against a wall. He carried it easily up to his chamber in the north tower. The Keep was at the other side of the castle, as were most of the main quarters, and he appreciated the feeling of solitude. In his quarters, he set down the trunk near the exquisite stone table. He looked near the fireplace and was immensely relieved to see a steaming bath there. Ambrose treated the water with some personal remedies, then heaved open a massive wooden trunk and pulled out clean garments. He undressed, each garment exhausted from nearly a week of riding the countryside. Ambrose stepped in, and as he sank down the hot bath he felt a sense of closure, though he could not place why.
         He took a cloth, and wringing it meticulously scrubbed every surface of his body, the dirt and blood of slight wounds washing away. When he was satisfied he dried and dressed. He worn black leather boots, brown pants, and a fine dark turquoise tunic. Lastly, he pulled on a dark brown leather jacket, worn well at the elbows especially. The feeling of the leather against his hand was smooth and familiar. He hated the thought that one day he should have to replace it. He reached into the trunk, and in a small box where he left it was the only wealth he had ever worn- an embellished silver ring. Ambrose slid it onto his right index finger, rubbing the ring with his thumb. He left to see Sebastian.

         The next morning, the castle was unusually quite. It may have been because so many soldiers had departed the previous day, or because people’s nerves about the invasion were finally beginning to settle. Nonetheless, Julia found herself with little instruction as what to do. Hannah released her from her daily services just after lunch and Julia was unsure of how to spend the rest of the afternoon. She went up to the tower bridges, that over looked both the castle walls to the outside, and the inner buildings on the other. She walked the perimeter of the path, passing a few guards stationed sporadically.
         It was cool high above the castle grounds. She pulled her hair down, slipping the pins into her pocket, and letting the wind blow through her hair. Julia stood at the battlements she had been the day before except now she was alone. She rested her hands on the stone and felt the pebbles against her skin.
         She suddenly felt a huge wave of emotion and she had to look away from the distant town. Her stomach knotted and she could only think of Calisca, her family, that long lost ocean, and Daniel who lay bleeding at her feet because of her. Her hand had wrapped around the silver pendant that hung from her neck.. Julia shut her eyes and concentrated only on the feeling of the air against her face. That helped.  She tucked the necklace in back underneath her decolletage, the charm just out of sight. Julia left the bridges, moving down the metal staircase. To her left was the hallway leading only to the north wing, straight ahead was the hallway from whence she came. She began down the narrow corridor, to the secondary stairwell leading to the main passage.
         Just as she reached the spiral stairs she stopped cold. Two men were speaking on the stairwell, just out of sight. The voices were hushed, she recognized one instantly as Lord Rienier’s. She could not tell if she had heard the other before or not. Julia leaned as close to the stairwell as she dared and listened.
         “...Marian is in Caythe? Why?”
         “I do not know milord. Perhaps she thought-”
         “I have never cared much for what she thought. I care that she knows when to lay down on my bed.”
         “Nonetheless, there’s not exactly a dearth of company in Sebastian’s castle. Why don’t you just send for a maid, any one I imagine would be willing enough-”
         “Not any, Pierce.” Rienier scowled. “I want you to find the Caliscan girl, pretty, young, fair, thing. Have her sent to me immediately.” Julia felt the blood drain from her face, she felt dizzy.
         “Yes, sir.” She did not linger at the top of the stairs because she could hear the man coming up. Julia felt to the wall behind her, her hand touching a handle. She pushed, not taking her eyes of the stairs. The man would be in view any second. The door gave in, unlocked. Julia stepped in and shut the door hastily, but silently just after. She froze with her back against the wall, to afraid to breathe, let alone move. She shut her eyes, trying to escape into the darkness, letting her conscious drift for just a moment. She opened her eyes to see where she had fled to.
         The room was much smaller than some of the noble’s chambers, in fact, it was a study. Directly across from her there was a daybed resting within the wall. If one where to pull the drape down the wall would appear very flat. Above the daybed was a glass window. The light was muted, but allowed what would have been a pitch black room to become illuminated. The walls were completely covered in massive shelves that went to the ceiling, the shelves filled with volumes of bound books. There was trunk near the fine table and only one chair pulled up to it. An oil lamp sat untouched on the table. Julia stepped along the beautiful shelves, letting her fingers pass over the books. She tipped her head, reading some of the titles, recognizing some she herself had read. After the first wall, it was clear how meticulously the books were arranged, not in any order particularly discernable to her, but meaningful to whomever had done so.
         A small book near on the higher shelves caught her attention. She reached up, balancing her fingertips against the shelf, and sliding the book out. Julia read the imprinted letters, many of them faded but she knew what they would have said, nonetheless; The Twilight Affair. It was a story  many years old of a man wandering the wilderness, scholars debated whether the protagonist truly was the author, or just figment of a creative man. She had not read many months, caught up in the tensions over the betrothal that would never come to be. Then, when she did ache to read it, it had slipped away and she could no longer her small worn copy.  Someone moved in the hallway and she froze, her eyes on the door. The movement passed and slowly she felt her lungs usher in cool air once again.
         She could not go back out now. That man Pierce would be looking for her, and she doubted he would easily give up his search knowing she was in the castle. She could wait until dusk, when both of the men hopefully would have long tired of their abhorrent games. She went to the nook and laid down near the window, letting the light from the window illuminate the small script. Julia pulled the brocaded drape down, feeling a faint sense of security from its concealment. She opened the book once more and let the words wash over her until she knew nothing other than sleep.
         
         Lord Ambrose held three maps under his arm as he struggled not to drop the key in his hand. He put it to the lock but was disappointed it was already unlocked. Ambrose remembered dropping the chest off and then began to contemplate the probability that Rienier had ended up in his private matters once again: Very high chance that Rienier would take the chance if given it, hell, not even a chance, more of a fact, and very low chance that Rienier had thought to check to door in the time he left it unlocked. Excellent.
         He opened the door and set the maps on the table, and then the key. Ambrose took a small match book from his coat, and upon withdrawing one match, he stopped, eyes fixed on the maroon curtain that was now fallen across the oval bed. He drew back the curtain and took a sharp breath, stepping back.
         On the cushion a girl was sleeping, her back to him. Her golden brown hair fell across the pillows, onto her shoulders, and across her face. He recognized her as the Caliscan girl from Bellingrade. Her svelte figure was still other than the unfaltering pulse of her breath. He looked at her for a moment, the young woman he had first seen bleeding and bruised at Bellingrade. Now she looked serene, and he relaxed. Ambrose noticed a book turned down, reserving some opened page, on the cushion. He leaned forward and picked up the book. As he pulled away she awoke, her hands pulling to her chest. She instinctively moved near the window as he straightened. Julia wanted to move out of the alcove, but from where he was fixed she felt too self conscious to pass the man so closely.
         “I just wanted to see which of my books was so irresistible.”
         Julia looked at the man in front of her as he read the title, his expression shifting with comprehension. It was too dark the first evening they met, but the man’s voice was unforgettable, and though she had only heard it once before, she recognized it instantly. It was the man from the camp, Ambrose. Her eyes studied his face, and in true light she saw immediately he was incredibly handsome. He was clean shaven, with a strong jaw. He had dark hair that was just long enough that it fell across equally dark eyes. Lord Ambrose was taller than her by nearly half a foot, and had a strong figure. Even as he scanned the book he could feel her warm eyes on him. He looked up and his eyes took hold of hers.
         “The Twilight Affair.” he noted.
         “I am so sorry to have trespassed into your study, milord” she said.“I did not know that...I would not have.” How could she explain. Anything she could think to say sounded like a pitiful excuse. “In the stairwell they...” her voice trailed again, and his eyes were serious, finding hers cast to the corner.
         “Who?”
         “Rienier. Pierce, I think.” Ambrose’s brow knotted. “I should not have come in here. Forgive me for having disturbed you.” She resolved hastily, growing more uncomfortable, gathering her skirts up, so she could manage a little grace as she stood. 
         “He is looking for you still.” Ambrose said, not turning as she passed him. Julia froze near the door. He turned. “Do you have another assignment this afternoon?” she shook her head, her back still to him. “Then you can assist me here. I need to detail maps of Calisca, the geography, the cities, the borders, but do not know them extensively enough to be accurate enough. Can I trust you?”
         Her hands wrenched together as he spoke. He studied her carefully as she paled. The thought was detestable to her, giving the enemy of her country just one more advantage over her armies and people. And under ordinary circumstances, she would have outright refused. But the fact remained things were far beyond ordinary. She was hiding among the very people searching desperately for her, choices were not as black and white as they might once have been. More so, every remaining instinct she had to outright refuse was washed away, she could not wipe away a feeling of indebtedness. He had protected her from the other men, from Rienier at Bellingrade, and whether intentional or not, he was protecting her now.
         “Yes.” She said, meeting his eyes.
         “Have a seat.” he motioned to the chair. Julia sat down, he took a large parchment and unrolled it on the table. On the paper was a sketch of Calisca, but was enormously disproportionate at many points. His brow was furrowed as he looked over the fine charcoal lines, proof it was only a draft of a final map. “I know there’s errors because I’ve been to this shore.” he set his finger on a line. “But there was a brook, and there’s no water marked anywhere near here.”
         “It’s a creek, and it runs down,” she placed her finger where the missing creek would be, and trailed it into Calisca. “To here, at a village, Nagrath.” Ambrose quickly scribbled notes near her hand as she spoke.
         “What about in the southwestern woods, The caves of Fria?” she hesitated. The caves of Fria was an intricate network of both underwater and aboveground caves that spanned in the mist of the dense forest, but more so the ideal place that rebels and militants would hide, but now.... the caves offered sanctuary to the very people that could resist the Daneg armies.
         “I am afraid I cannot say.”
         “Cannot, or chose not?”          
         “That would depend of the perspective.” she said softly. He leaned back.
         “I see. And Hanthro?” she silently pointed to a place on the map. He marked it with flick of his wrist. “Is this city in the correct location?” he pointed. She nodded. After further labors, Ambrose began to notice the parchment was so thick with his notations there was an increasing risk he would not be able to decipher all that he had noted.          
         “Perhaps that is all for this evening. He said, beginning to carefully roll the maps back up. “I should like to call for your council again after I have had the opportunity to transcribe the present notations.” She nodded, standing, hesitating at the chair to be dismissed. “If you are still concerned about Rienier you may wait the night in this study.” he offered, preparing his things to retire.
         “Thank you, but I should retire to my quarters.” and with that she left.
         However much she feared Rienier or any of his men, she would much rather face any of them, for at least there she knew where she stood. Ambrose confused her a little, and some small part of her was left wanting to help him with his endeavors, though she admonished herself for remotely entertaining the idea. Was he not a Danegan? Did he not aid in the fall of her family- the attack of her country? Of course. Still, she hesitated to hate and fear him as an enemy and that was far more dangerous than anything Rienier could offer.


 

VIII.

Three men sat in a study, dim oil lamps flickering against the tapestries draped across the walls. Sebastian, having rested through the night, had a fair amount of strength and managed to sit upright in one of the chairs. He looked over at his two friends, Rienier, who was looking restless, shifted in the stiff chair yet again, and Ambrose was, as usual, unreadable. He reminded Sebastian of a cat, the way one sits and looks, calm and pensive, waiting for something to happen, for something to provoke it into action. Rienier broke the silence first.
         “I have received further correspondence from Lord Mercer. He says the city of Calisca is firmly secured, and that the castle did not sustain irreparable structural damage. He expects it can be repaired within a month. But he is not having as much ease with other areas. In fact, he said that resistence in the surrounding cities and villagers is sporadic and uncoordinated, but prevalent non-the-less.”
         “What are your thoughts on this Marcus?”
         “Milord, I think that it is entirely too early to tell whether these initial dissidents will truly pose a threat. I am sure much of Mercer’s problems are just the result of a natural resistence to foreign authority. However, it is the problem of the missing heir that should be of primary concern.”
         “Ah yes, Rudolf’s daughter.” Sebastian reflected.
         “We’ve withdrawn Sathe from Barikal and he is being consulted at present.” Rienier stated. Ambrose looked away from Sebastian to Rienier,
         “Aurelio? Aurelio Sathe?” he repeated. Rienier nodded. “I remember. He worked in Calisca, posing as a Caliscan and infiltrating the castle. He later gained access to the Rudolfs themselves. But even still, that was over seven years ago. Does this man think he can find the Rudolf girl?”
         “Yes. Sathe was an excellent informant and his identity was never compromised. Any Caliscans that knew him seven years ago, still believe him to be Caliscan. That alone can be very valuable.”
         “Has this man, Sathe, yet arrived in Calisca? What progress can you speak of?” Sebastian asked.
         “He has been there for nearly five days now.” Rienier swallowed, and continued “Sathe is confident he could identify the girl if he saw her, and he is adamant she is not among the living he has seen. Still, no one has been able to conclusively discover whether she was killed during the breach of the city. Some areas maintained more damage than others and they are still working to clear away the rubble. Furthermore the civilians are refusing to speak about any matters pertaining to their country, including the Rudolfs.”
         “How unfortunate.” Sebastian said. “I want the entire border of Caliscan territory held.” his teeth gritted as he said it. “In two days if they have not determined what happened to Rudolf’s daughter I want the search pushed outward. I will not tolerate any haphazard execution of this endeavor. And I will not have speculation nor doubt over our grasp on Calisca.” His fists
unclenched with a tremor and he let out a long breath.
         “Milord?” Ambrose began, beginning to stand to aid his King.
         “Just get out.” Sebastian said, locking his eyes on Rienier. “The both of you.”

         Ambrose left the study unsure of what had just transpired. Sebastian had always favored Rienier... but something was different. Of course, with his condition Sebastian was becoming less and less like his old self and more and more like someone that time and age had worn away at. Still, his temper was quicker than ever before and Ambrose wondered if it was from growing concern over the unresolved issue of the Caliscan heir. Rienier had been foolish enough to let the problem go unchecked this long. It was over a week after the siege and a well executed escape could have the Rudolf heir anywhere in the entire country, and if the borders had not been held, well who could say...          
         Aurelio Sathe had been the most notable informant following Benjamin Masters death. Masters had been an exemplary informant, assimilating into the Caliscan court at the height of Calisca’s isolationist years- that is, the reign of King Matthew’s grandfather, the reign of King Gregor. After Gregor’s death King Leopold threw out many of his father’s council including Masters, replacing them with his own, and Masters returned to Daneg. He put together several volumes of Caliscan intelligence, including detailed records of their court. No informant since had been able to infiltrate the Calisca anywhere near the degree of Masters, that was, until Aurelio Sathe.
         Ambrose had meet him once, almost five years ago. He disliked him immediately. The man was as reckless as he was loquacious, and every time Ambrose recalled the man, he wondered how such a person could be an effective informant. He attributed it to the fact that; despite what he perceived as flaws, there was something absolutely charismatic in everything from the way Sathe moved to the way he spoke. 
         Ambrose was outside now, the weather was chilly and the sky was overcast and grey. He took his horse from the stables and as he mounted he hoped it would not rain too. He left down the curving dirt road that would take him out of the city where, once on open road, he anticipated he could make it to the monastery and back before nightfall. As Ambrose rode`, he tried to remember where Masters volumes were stored. He could not, but by nightfall they would be in hand, and Daneg would be more aptly prepared to deal with the problem of the missing heir.

         That evening Julia was sent again to the Keep. Margaret was nearly well, but not enough so that anyone dared risk the King’s health further. Annabel had been aiding Sebastian, but that afternoon he insisted that she leave his side and remember her own leisure. Julia ascended the long winding stairwell up again, greeted the guards as she passed, knocked and then entered the chamber. He was sitting still in the reading chair, his eyes fixed on the fire rolling over the logs in the hearth.
         “Milord?” she went to the side of the chair, “Milord, may I bring you something?” she repeated, his eyes broke from the fire and he looked up to her. For a moment her chest tightened because behind his eyes there was something she had not seen there before. Where as previously he had the look of a man not fearful of what the future would bring, he now looked troubled and uncertain.
         “No,” his eyes distant again. “no.”
         “Alright, I will leave you for some time.” she said softly, but as she turned to leave he spoke.
         “If you knew where the last living Rudolf was, would you tell a Danegan?” he asked. His tone was purely hypothetical, so Julia understood the question to be one of character, or loyalty.
         “No, milord.” she said. Anger filled him with a shudder and he pushed him self up.
         “Treasonous! How dare you defy me!” his voice thundered. He seized her wrist, his other hand touching the arm of the chair for support. Julia did not move.
         “No, milord.” she said calmly. “I give you honesty.” he leaned more heavily against the arm of the chair, and she could have pulled her hand away if she tried. “It would be a grave error to insult your intelligence with such a weak lie.”
         “And a strong one?”
         “You forget I am Caliscan.”
         “You forget I am King.” his gripe tightened but he shuddered with the strain. He dropped her wrist and sank back into the chair.
         “No one forgets that you are King, milord.” she said softly. “You know, milord, you did not have to consolidate your position among your countrymen through this war. You were a beloved King long before you sought retribution for perceived injustice.” A feeling of familiarity suddenly washed over her as she spoke and she thought of her own father. Though Sebastian’s ambition was born out of a desire to do right by his countrymen, Matthew Rudolf’s was driven only by a thirst for power. And as she spoke to the foreign king in front of her she realized just how much she resented that about her own father. He had never been satisfied with what he possessed, with the countless opportunities for peace. She turned her face away from the fallen man in the chair as she fought to maintain face. But Sebastian’s own voice was breaking and he did not notice.
         “You should leave, Julia.” he said, and she was nearly to the door before he finished.
         By the time Julia was down the stairs she felt flushed and breathless, as if the air were suddenly to heavy to breathe. She leaned against the cool stone, her fingers reaching to touch it, tot steady herself. She bit her lip and fought the urge to cry. She found herself caught off guard by the sudden rush of emotion.  Not here. Not now. she told herself They are gone, what is done is done, and now is not the time or place to mourn them. Before it did not take much effort to distance herself from the events that had taken place because the urgency of the present did not allow it. But now the pace had slowed to almost that of an ordinary pace. She could not dwell on her personal afflictions any further because the fact was she was essentially assimilated into the Danegan court and there was no imminent danger.
         If she still took no action it was because she was either too cowardly or too selfish. Maybe even both. No, she could not hide there forever. She had a responsibility as heir to the throne of Calisca to consider, and as of that moment, would begin pursing the means of her return.

         The next day was gray and dark, as if the darkness of night had not quite retreated. A fog lingered in the dense trees, clinging low to the land, and the torches were ordered lit but their luminance was soft and muted, lost in the mist. Julia climbed the stairs to the keep, the soft soles of her shoes shuffling against the stone steps. She held two trays of hot tea and without a free hand she could not lift the hem of her skirts to a convenient length. Instead each step was a precarious one. Margaret emerged from the chamber looking impatient, frowned and then met her mid way. 
         “You silly girl, your lucky you didn’t break your neck on these stairs.” Margaret admonished as she took one of the trays from Julia. Julia smiled, politely and shrugged as she gripped the second tray with both hands. She turned to the north wing, and found the small secluded study. The door was left open a small bit, but she knocked to no answer. She nudged the door opened with her foot and went in. She set the tray on a chair and took in the room.
         The table was strewn with half finished maps and heavy bound books, several left open.  There were a few trunks on the floor, and in the alcove Ambrose slept. His hair and clothing were damp as if he had just come in from the rain, and he lay quite tentatively, as if he had not intended to sleep, but merely shut his eyes for a moment. A candle rest on the cushion aside him, the tiny flame flickering in the remaining pool of wax.  Two old volumes lay near him, and one brushed his fingers as if he had reached for it in his sleep. Julia took the candle and brought it to her lips, blowing it out.  She reached for the door to pull it shut.
         “Will you draw a bath in my chamber?” she heard his voice, low and smooth and calm. It reminded her of the ocean at night. She turned seeing him push himself up, wincing faintly as his eyes adjusted to the light.
         “Of course, milord.” She left and went to make the arrangements. Julia filled perhaps seven  tall jugs with boiling hot water. She looked at them for a moment dreading the long way to the North corridor, six times with the heavy jugs. One of the other bath maids enlisted the help of another friend and between the three of them the water was still steaming after the second trip back to the lord’s chamber door. The two maids left Julia there with kind parting words between them and Julia  knocked three times on the door before opening it. She heaved one of them into her arms and moved into the room.
         Ambrose stopped her halfway and lifted the jug out her arms. He poured it slowly into the tub and set the empty basin down. She opened her mouth to protest but instead he spoke as he turned towards the other jugs.
         “There is a small chest near the tub, add some of its contents to the water.” She knelt near the tub, her fingers finding the small iron latches, and opened the chest. Inside were several different jars and bottles.
         “Which ones?” she called back.
         “One of the bottles smells of lavender, but it is as an oil, the other is white, in the tallest bottle.” he carried two jugs in, easily, and poured them one by one into the bath. Julia poured some of the lavender in, and then some of the other. She titled the bottle in her hand studying its contents.
         “And the second bottle, may I inquire as to what it is?”
         “Prepared aloe. A long while ago I when I was injured, a medicine woman, far north of here, procured it for me. I do not know how she makes it such, but its quality is quite different from pure aloe.” As he poured the fifth in, the smell began to emulate from the waters. It was a cross between a warm flowers, and something almost medicinal. With the hot water, it began to smell like the purest of scents, warm and intoxicating, but, despite the lavender, nothing like a woman’s perfume.
         “How were you injured?” she asked, his eyes meet hers and he straightened. “I sorry shouldn’t have pried.” she said quickly.”
         “No. It is a simple enough question.” he smiled it didn’t meet his eyes. “Ask me again later and I will have an answer.”
         “If you wish.”  Julia tucked the bottles away and shut the chest. She went to retrieve the last basin and brought it to the bath. Ambrose watched intently as she took care, pouring it carefully beyond the rim. She shifted the empty jug so some of its weight rested against her hip.
         “Did you need anything else, milord?”
         “No, this will do excellently. Thank you.” she nodded and left, cursing her nerves.

 

IX..

That evening in the darker corners of the castle at Daneg two men spoke, hushed and wary.  Nicholas Rienier’s face was knotted into an angry snarl and he learned against the wall as if he was hiding it from the world.
         “Yes.” he snapped, then lowered his voice more carefully, “I’ve heard the rumors and I don’t believe them for a goddamn minute. Unfortunately my position does not allow me to act on beliefs alone.”
         “You believe she is dead then?” Randal Pierce asked.
         “I believe she is incapable of leading any resistence to this endeavor whatsoever let alone actually regaining the throne. There is a difference between dead and inconsequential. Still, Sebastian is unnerved by the entire ordeal and I am concerned about the effect it will have on....” he  searched for the wording, “matters of the throne. One can only hope he dies either before he has second thoughts on my competence or after this matter is settled once and for all.”
         “Have considered the benefits of facilitating the former scenario?”
         “I could not risk it. Ambrose watches every goddamned move I make. I’m trying to secure my crown, not my noose.”
         “Either way, the resistence seems to be growing, and worse yet to be organizing between different fractions. At present, it’s being attributed to a man named Patrick Fitzgerald, apparently he was part of Rudolf’s guard. But the strongholds of the rebels... their plans... their actors... are all unknown. I’m honestly shocked they were able to come up with Fitzgerald’s name.” They both froze as a woman’s infectious laughter erupted down the corridor. They listened as it died away, the echos fading into the night.
         “Well at least there seems to be a source.”
         “Ah, well.... yes and no. The name was relayed by an informant that was set up with a group of suspected rebels, but that was all he was able to relay- he was found out by the second information  exchange and killed. Lord Mercer expressed to me that he was unprepared for the high demand of military operations. His forte is more along the lines of governing.”
         “We must wait for Sathe, before we jump to any rash actions. I trust he will prove the solution to a great deal of our problems. Until then, speak with the other nobles and tell them that each is to provide a regiment to be sent to Calisca... though Mercer probably won’t have a clue what to do with them.”  Then, as unceremoniously as they met, they parted into the night.

         The first light of morning had not yet broke as Julia moved down the hallway. Her hair was pulled neatly back, not a single piece having found its way down. She hated to admit that she was becoming quite adept at pinning her hair back in the careful Daneg style. She hated even more the thought that when she managed to return to Calisca, her new position would demand it stay that way.
Julia had been nervously clenching her hands since she woke, dreading what she knew had to be done. She unclenched them a final time, and wiped them against her hip as if to rub away her final anxieties.
         She turned down the narrow corridor that lead down to the prison where she had spent her early days in the castle. The first guard let her pass without so much as a word. Julia forced herself not to exhale with relief. As she reached the bottom of the steps she was met with the damp and old smell that seemed to emulate from every inch of the prison. The gate that lead to the endless maze of cells and chambers was blocked by two guards, one of whom looked a great deal more suspicious than the other.
         “I have a message from His Highness for a man named Frederick Delagel.” the suspicious guard raised an eyebrow.
         “And what is the message?”
         “Take no offence, but I must deliver it to Delagel’s ears only. I can only say that it pertains to His Highness, the Caliscan physician, and this man Delagel. May I pass?”
         “You had better be quick. Most of the Caliscan prisoners get moved out for work duty pretty early.”
         “I will be brief.” she said, and nodded her head politely. Julia moved beyond the gate walking quickly, ignoring the ache in her muscles that wanted her legs to turn, to run, to carry her out of the prison. She took a wrong turn, and after backtracking a little managed to find the cell that caged Frederick Delagel. It appeared that most of the prisoners were sleeping -as deeply as one could in such a place. Still when she approached the bars, the familiar man’s eyes opened and he moved silently to meet her.
         “Mila- Julia.” he began, barely a whisper.
         “There is little time. If you are asked, I have given you a private message from Sebastian concerning his health and the Caliscan physician. Say nothing more and say nothing at all if you are not asked.” he nodded, allowing her to continue without pause. “I need you help. I must leave Daneg. I must return to Calisca before they establish a firm hold on our country’s affairs.
         “What do you propose?”
         “You must have some people you trust here, or you know how to send word to reach such people. I need to find out what my options are.”
         “There may be a few people I can contact.” he said slowly. “I will need a few days. Three days should be enough for me to make the appropriate inquires.” She nodded, taking in the situation.
         “I will do my best to speak with you then. Three days.”  He nodded once in affirmation. Julia left Frederick Delagal to his thoughts and traced her steps back to the main corridors of the castle. Back above the static ambience of the prison Julia felt strangely conspicuous. The people that passed her were no doubt en route to an ordinary staple of their day, probably still groggy from sleep. And although she walked among them, her heart pounded as if the fate of the world hung in every footstep.

         That afternoon Ambrose happened to be passing through the dim walkway above the dinning hall when he could not help but see Rienier and the commotion that surrounded him- rather, the commotion that seemed to follow him, Ambrose thought to himself. Below Rienier stood among several of his soldiers, telling some story that had them rolling in laughter. A familiar woman played her fingers along his abdomen, her arm wrapping around him and pulling them together. Marian, he thought. The woman had dark brown hair that was braided up elaborately in a style more befitting the eastern isles and a lustrous blue dress that flattered her, but she knew that. Marian had most likely dropped everything to leave Caythe and come to keep Rienier’s company because the man simply did not know what to do with himself. A voice spoke from behind him,
         “Tis Marian, I presume.”
         Ambrose turned to see Julia standing in the doorway, a basket of linens in her arms and he found himself smiling.  “Yes, an old....er, acquaintance of Rienier’s.” Julia smiled knowingly- the word he searched for was ‘mistress’ but he was too polite to say it. “He’ll be occupied for the time being, I suppose you won’t continue frequenting the more remote areas of the castle.”
         “But then I may miss some of the more redeeming aspects of this place.” She had moved to the railing that overlooked the hall below and he couldn’t see her face.
         “Then that will make two of us.” Ambrose said, leaning against the railing as well. Julia went very still and for a moment they both listened to the roars of laughter below. Then she spoke,
         “I never... thanked you. In the camp at Bellingrade and then again, here. I mean to thank you. Forgive me if I took you away from your business, milord.” she backed up to the door and turned, flustered. And even as she slipped away, Ambrose could not find the words to reply and he hated himself for it.

         That evening Rienier was with thought as Marian lay draped against his bronzed chest. Her hair was still braided, but disheveled now, and Rienier mindlessly twisted pieces between his fingers.
         “What are you thinking so vividly about at this hour?
         “Restless things. I will go mad before this Caliscan affair is over.”
         “You must forget such things tonight.” Marian purred, and ran her fingers along the curve of his abdomen. He brushed her arm away. “Well if you must dwell on such things, tell me: how is your business with Sebastian.”
         “Strained, as of recent.”
         “Still, his health is worsening and you have been favored more than this... Lord Ambrose.”
         “Yes.”
         “Then despite the present problems, I have no doubt, that you,” she kissed his lips. “will. keep such favor.” the last kiss lingered, and then she pulled away and slid off of the bed. He watched the bare line of her body as she walked, unabashed, to the trunk. As Marian began to dress, Rienier asked,
         “How long were you in Caythe?”
         “Almost two months. And still I receive word that you speak of my name. Why now?” She asked casually. Rienier felt his body tense at the thought of actual conversation about the problems he could not forget about. First the missing Rudolf heir, exacerbated by the fact that the Caliscan rebels were not relenting. He could not begin to articulate his anger at the fact that all of these things impeded his sway with Sebastian. It did not help that he could not even go to bed with a girl he lusted after, as his mistress had just pointed out in less words.
         He scowled, “As I said, it has been a long month.”



To be continued...