Philip shot upright in bed, the sudden noise rousing him from a pleasant dream and sending him straight back to the reality of impending doom. The banging on the door continued, and this time the whore next to him sat up, placing her hand on his arm,
“What’s going on?” Rose asked groggily.
Pushing her hand off with a huff, Philip stood and pulled on his robe. “Just a bleeding minute!” he yelled at the door as he crossed the large room. Tying his belt, he pulled open the solid oak door, not caring that Rose lay naked on the bed behind him, barely covered with a tangled sheet. “What is it?” he spat at the pair of guards standing in the hall.
The one in front, a muscular, bald man whom had been doing the pounding, glanced at his companion before he replied, “We’ve got a visitor, Your Majesty. A horseman has just arrived from Gradenia.”
Philip sighed in relief. Finally! After weeks of waiting, assistance had arrived. “Very good!” he said, grabbing the startled man by the arm. “That’s wonderful news! Have him wait in the throne room, and I’ll be by directly.” He started to close the door, but the second guard caught it. “What? What else?” he asked, growing angry again.
The two guards exchanged glances, as if neither of them wanted to tell the king the second part of the message. Eventually, the second guard stammered, “Well, Your Highness, there’s been a breach. A large breach.” Before he could say more, Philip grabbed him by the shoulders, thrusting him backward and pinning him against the wall opposite the door.
“What do you mean there’s been a breach?” he demanded. He could feel the other guard’s hand attempting to tug him back but failing. “How bad is it?” He increased the pressure, shoving the soldier into the stone wall even harder.
It would be impossible for the guard to answer with the king leaning so forcefully on him, so the bald man behind him answered. “Sir, it isn’t good at all. The army is falling back. Cuthburt is attempting to rally them--to stop them--before the Arterians reach the castle wall around the village. There’s a chance, a small one, but a chance, that the reserve troops, the ones waiting at Skull Bridge, will be able to slow them. Possibly give the Gradenians an opportunity to arrive before the line is broken. If they are on their way, and if our men can hold.... But, Sir, it does not look promising.”
Philip continued to hold the other guard against the wall as he listened, letting his anger drive into the man’s shoulders with considerable force. With the completion of that final sentence, Philip threw his arms up into the air with a shout of disdain, and the soldier slumped forward into the arms of his comrade. His lips were a pale shade of blue, and he was struggling to breath, wheezing violently. Philip said nothing as he turned back toward his chambers, an air of shock and defeat hanging over him. Even if Gradenian forces were on the way, they would not reach Blackthorn in time. The line at Skull Bridge had to hold. He would ride out as soon as possible and make sure that it did.
As he began to shut the door behind him, he heard the guard say, “Sir, what are your orders?”
He almost chuckled. Since when did anyone carry out any of his orders? Placing his hands on his hips, Philip stared at the floor a moment until he regained his composure. “I’ll be by to meet with the courier from Gradenia momentarily. You tell Cuthbert that if he doesn’t hold that line at Skull Bridge I will personally remove every bit of flesh from his skull with my own fingernails and make him feast on his own dull-witted, idiotic brain!” He slammed the door so violently that it shook on its hinges.
Pulling his clothes from earlier off of the back of a chair, Philip dressed quickly. Rose watched from her perch on the bed. Of course, he knew she’d heard the entire conversation. She knew more than most, but then, who was she going to speak to? He wondered if she understood that her days at Blackthorn were numbered.
“Philip?” she whispered, dropping the sheet she had wrapped around her. “Please, take me with you.”
His question was answered. She did recognize, then, that the situation was grave. Still, her audacity was astounding. “What’s that?” he asked, stomping his foot into his boot and pulling his belt tight.
She swallowed hard, and he wondered if she realized she needed to tread lightly. “Take me with you--to Gradenia. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
Philip squeezed the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily, and staring at the floor while he searched for the proper words.
Rose wasn’t intelligent enough to know when she should shut up. “She may be your wife. She may be your queen. But I’m the one who knows how to please you. I’m the one who loves you. Please, take me with you.”
Philip closed his eyes tightly, fire churning inside of him again. He attempted to regain his self-control, but it was yet another battle he was losing. He walked across the room, and Rose turned to meet him, her arms spread for an embrace. He stared into her eyes for just a second before drawing back his hand and backhanding her right beneath her eye. She shrieked and flew across the bed. “You’re a whore,” he spat in as calm a voice as he could muster. He turned quickly on his heels and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Philip hurried down the hallway, eager to see what his cousin had to say. A slight man with dark black, greasy hair stood before Philip’s throne as he made his way into the room from the back entrance. Holding his helmet and gloves against his hip, he studied his fingernails as the king situated himself on his throne. Dropping his hand, he looked at Philip as if he had more important tasks to complete, though the thin black chainmail he wore implied he wasn’t a warrior, only a herald. Philip took his seat, bracing himself to hear what Leopold would do.
“Your Majesty,” the messenger began in a thick accent Philip struggled to interpret, “I am Henry de Ville, Mercenary and Messenger for His Highness King Leopold Vincent II, Ruler of Gradenia. I arrive before you this morning with an urgent message from King Leopold.”
Philip could hardly keep from rolling his eyes as the greasy little man made his announcement, as if his cousin’s titles were any more substantial than the ones he held himself. Henry handed him a sealed letter, bowed slightly, and a clicked the heels of his boots together.
Without a word of recognition, Philip took the letter. With a deep breath, he broke the seal and quickly scanned its contents.
Dear Philip:
I hear that matters have gotten out of hand, and Caleb’s forces are infiltrating your kingdom. What a pity! Perhaps if you had heeded my words in the first place, you would be enjoying your new wife with limited interruption. Nevertheless, you are my cousin, and I will come to your aid. The monies you’ve sent are barely enough for my forces to cover your escape. Abandon Blackthorn, bring whatever treasures and troops you have left with you, and we shall regroup when you have reached Gradenia. I am sending 1000 of my best cavalrymen to aid in your escape and prevent the Arterians from following you, but at this time I am not willing to risk any more of my forces as a response to your idiotic mistake.
Regards,
King Leopold Vincent II
Philip crumpled the paper in his hand. “Dammit!” he spat under his breath. The amused expression on Henry’s face made him even more enraged, and it was all he could do to keep from striking the man the way he had just slapped that insidious slut in his bedchamber. “One thousand men? That’s it? That’s all he’s sending?”
Henry shook his head. “One thousand of our finest cavalry officers to cover your flight.” His accent was pretentious, which made Philip loathe him even more.
“This is outrageous!” the king yelled, jumping to his feet, which knocked over the side table next to the throne. It clambered down the stairs, but Henry didn’t flinch. The king approached him, his nostrils flaring, while the messenger lifted his chin in response. The guards at the door shifted a bit, drawing Philip’s eye. He doubted they’d even be capable of carting the messenger off should he order it.
“I’m sorry this information is not more, uh, acceptable to you,” Henry began, as if he were searching for the correct words in a foreign language. “This is the best that we can do for you at this time. You may accept our offer or not. The choice is completely up to you.”
Philip continued to stare at the courier in disbelief. Without Leopold’s assistance, he was doomed. There was no two ways about it. The Arterians would be at Blackthorn in a day, two at most, which meant if Philip stayed, he’d have a battle on his hands he could not win and would likely be captured or executed. If he left, he would lose his castle, his kingdom, everything.
Philip’s head was pounding. Stretching one hand across his eyes and rubbing both of his temples, he snapped his fingers with his other hand, indicating to the servant boy across the room that he needed a drink. The young man hurried over, handing him a goblet of wine, and Philip gulped it down at once without taking a breath.
The liquid helped soothe his disposition, at least momentarily. With a deep breath, he addressed Henry who hadn’t moved since Philip entered the room. “You want me to flee? To run from an invading army, to abandon my castle and my throne, just so that Leopold can say I told you so?” By the time he had completed the sentence, he was in Henry’s face, his voice straining with conviction. Blood boiling, he could feel his face turning crimson as he turned and threw the goblet across the room, only missing the servant boy by a thin margin. The child leapt out of the way, and the goblet crashed into the stone floor, rolling around for a moment before it came to a stop.
Henry shrugged, indicating he had presented his proposition and had little else to say. Philip spun around so that his back was to the messenger, fighting to calm his nerves. The sound of Henry pulling on his gloves had him turn back to face him.
“You have heard our offer. What you choose to do is your business. It is of little concern to me. I bid you farewell.” He turned to leave, giving Philip little choice but to either accept or dismiss Leopold’s proposal.
Philip watched the man turn his back on him--a king, which was disgraceful--and walk away, taking all of his hope along with him. He was almost to the door when Philip shouted, “Wait!” Henry stopped abruptly and turned back to face him.
With his hands on his hips, his eyes staring at the metal tips of his boots, Philip asked, “When? When will they arrive?”
“They can be here by tomorrow night, Sunday morning at the latest,” Henry replied.
“Fine. Send them.”
Katherine was in the library, standing just on the other side of the door, when a messenger wearing Gradenian colors had been escorted in. She had heard the reverberation from Philip’s outraged dismissal of someone and had nearly jumped out of her skin. Staring through a crack in the door, she’d witnessed a beautiful redheaded woman flying down the hall, holding a hand to her cheek. The princess had recognized her, though she could not quite place where she had seen her before. She’d also watched as the courier sauntered back down the hallway only a few moments later.
Edward was making his way down the hall. Katherine could hear him coming. She listened to his steps, and by the sound of his gait, it seemed he was going into the throne room. It was impossible to know exactly what was happening, but the situation did not look promising for her betrothed.
Katherine’s first instinct was to rush to Matthew, to let him know what she’d witnessed. But it was too risky, and she would have no way of conveying the message anyway. So, she waited and watched for several minutes. Finally, Edward, Philip, and Charles came down the hallway walking as quickly as the older man’s impediment would allow. She could tell by their expressions that they were in dire straits. The only thing she heard as they passed by was Philip saying, “We have got to hold him off!”
The men were headed downstairs at such a quick pace they didn’t notice the diminutive little shadow following behind. Katherine did not trail them completely out of the castle, though. She only wanted to make sure that they were all leaving before she went to visit Matthew. From her vantage point on the second story landing, she could see the gate opening, several horsemen riding through, and then closing again. From this distance, she couldn’t see faces, but she was certain the exiting party included Philip and his advisors.
A flurry of activity on both sides of the wall surrounding the castle caught her attention. It seemed as if people outside were trying to get in, and people inside were doing their best to secure any ruptures or insecurities. Seeing the villagers prepare for an attack brought back memories she did not wish to dwell on. She knew exactly how those frightened people felt but had to put the thoughts out of her mind.
She watched an older woman and a child struggling to move a wagon full of heavy stones a great distance to the castle wall. Part of her wished she could help the poor souls, but then, she didn’t want to prevent the Arterians from breaching Blackthorn. If she had her way, Caleb would be here already, and Matthew would be free. Seeing the fear in the people’s eyes brought back the unpleasant memories from her past, and Katherine took a deep breath, not able to press them aside quickly enough.
If Katherine were to go with Philip to Gradenia, it would not be the first time she’d be whisked away from a castle, fleeing an invading force. Her hands began to tremble as she thought about it, not that she was afraid of Caleb and the Arterians. She was more afraid of the memories fleeing would drudge up and the possibilities of being carried away to another foreign land, this time by a man she detested, further away from her family, possibly away from Joan, and most likely away from Matthew, whom would either be rescued or executed unless he managed to escape. Katherine didn’t think there was much of a chance that he could actually escape, despite their plans.
No longer wanting to watch the scene unfolding before her, she turned and rushed back down the hallway, dodging a few workers here and there. These, too, were in a hurry, trying to prepare the best they could for a breach. Oddly enough, some of the women she passed appeared to be working on wedding errands, as if the nuptials were still going to take place. She stepped out of the way of one woman carrying a large basket full of clothes and ran right into someone else. Glancing up, she realized it was the redheaded woman she had seen before. Katherine caught her breath.
“You should be more careful,” the woman said, speaking very slowly.
Katherine took a step back. Her cheekbone was scarlet and looked inflamed. It was then that the princess realized where she had seen the young lady before. When she had first arrived at the castle, she had seen Philip talking to her in the hallway outside of his bedchambers. At the time, she had thought nothing of it, but now she wondered who this woman might be.
Katherine nodded slowly at the woman, holding her gaze for a moment before she continued on her way. Though she didn’t feel frightened by the encounter, a sense of foreboding overcame her, as if this young lady knew something the princess did not know.
Before she turned the corner, Katherine glanced back over her shoulder. The other redhead still stood in the hallway, her arms folded, a defiant expression on her face as she looked the princess up and down. The glint in her eyes seemed to say she either wanted to kill Katherine or be her. Either way, the princess knew not to trust this woman. She rushed on down the hallway, on her way to warn the captive king that time was running out.