Duke Of Wentley

The people feast, the joy of victory in their hearts, happiness shines on the faces of all but a few lonely widows newly made. The rain beats on the walls a low and steady drumming, thrumming beat behind the chatter. A cheery glow is cast on the celebrants by crackling fires. Thunder echoes through the chamber people pause, their words hanging in the air until silence is resumed. Once more the sound roars to split the sky busting open the parade doors. I knew it to be an omen of danger as surely as though the god had shouted in my ear.
That same night a messenger came bearing ill news, my friend, the Duke of Wentley, and all his force had perished. On the morrow many more would join the ladies mourning. That night as I paced my chamber wondering, pondering on how so many souls of loyal men were freed by the evil ones. How the devil’s men had known every twist and turn my loyal subjects made and had waited accordingly. The only conclusion I could draw was that a man among my brethren had a heart of icy stone. I do not try to anger people of my land over petty matters. The faithful ones I knew to be Lord of Lambroke, treasurer royal, Baron of Olens, childhood friend, Huntmaster Grentel, loyal servant, my lady the queen and my own dear son Trenzak. Now for those known to mislike of me, Duke of Arntan who believes that he should not have to pay the usual taxes, Henfrent, knight of the realm, and many minor nobles, most of which could be allied to my cause.
Then it struck me, the traitor lay within this very room less than a dozen paces from where I stood, my wife, the queen. She would snatch the throne the minute that I was killed, my son only recently a man would fall under his mother’s hand, the war must be a distraction, nothing more. I strode over to the bed and flung back the rich drapes. My lady was not there, she must have known that soon her treachery would be revealed. In my rage I yelled, shouted, howled and screamed. Out on the balcony something stirred, I spun and drew my sword. The treacherous monster covered a dainty yawn with her hand as if she had not heard my fury with evil in her false heart. “Is something wrong milord?” she asked from within her guise of innocence. “A mere frustration my dear”, I said this as though I had not realised her intentions, sheathing my sword as I spoke.
“You seem so tense tonight, dearest,” she responded with false concern, “Why not have an early night.”
Ha! She wanted me removed from the scene so she could complete her signalling from the balcony to the waiting enemy. I strode out onto the balcony and saw a flame flickering as though from a campfire on the hill. Further evidence! My mind was a roiling hive of horror and disgust that my queen should want me dead. My fingernails bit into the balcony’s cold stone as my mind returned to a scene just three days ago. Ventara, my queen, had protested so strongly my proposal to make Trenzak a general that I had agreed he was too young. At the time I put it down to motherly protectiveness but now I realised that she wanted to send the duke to his certain death so he could no longer protect me.
“Guards!”
“I want everyone at that campfire captured and brought before me.” I bellowed pointing across the dark hillside as the stumbling fools arrived.

When they had left I turned to my wife, “Who is out there?”
“Forgive me, my lord, but I do not understand your meaning,” she had turned very pale and was staring at me wide-eyed.
“You know very well,” I replied, cold anger in my voice. I could see she was becoming fearful and I saw guilt written in every line of her deceitful face.
“The Duke of Wentley saw right through you, didn’t he? That’s why he’s dead now, isn’t it?” I was shrieking now, shoving her backwards as I spoke. “You never disguised your dislike of him, did you?”
“I know I never trusted him but I would never…”
I shook with fury, one hand on my sword. I couldn’t believe she was denying it! Although white as a sheet she screamed “No, no, no,” as she shook beyond belief. I was shaking too, barely able to keep the sword steady as I plunged it into her treacherous heart.
There was a polite knock at the door. I leapt to it and wrenched it open. There stood one of the guards I had so recently sent to arrest the accomplices.
“Your Highness, we have captured all those found at the campsite. One of which, I must warn you, is the Duke of Wentley, he was found with enemy commanders and has confessed to being a traitor.”