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[Rough Draft] Chapter 40: What Lurks Below
There was something odd about the rain. There were times where the steady sound of raindrops colliding with the muddy ground, pinging against the tent, or even plopping down into the brimming trench around the Duchess’s tent—when an odd silence would fall over the camp. A stillness that prickled down Captain Isaac’s tent and made the exiled witch hunter grip his hilt uneasily.
A whisper, a shadow, and a flicker of green eyes appeared puddle then paces away and then vanished with the next drip of rain.
“Never trust the wind, ground, flame, and water,” Isaac whispered as his ice-blue eyes moved from puddle to puddle. “Only trust the steel in your hand.”
The shadow dipped closer, hopping from puddle to puddle, the malicious glint in its green eyes becoming clear as it closed in. Isaac lowered his chest, sword hilt firmly gripped, breath steadied, and feet spread and staggered as he waited patiently for the lurking witch to emerge.
Two feet away, just before the shadow reached the trenches around the tent, it came to an abrupt halt. Isaac exhaled through his teeth as he watched the shadow waver, then retreat to two puddles back where it disappeared.
‘Were they testing me?’
A disturbance by the entrance to the Duchess’s camp pulled Isaac’s gaze from the puddles to the familiar sight of Captain Beaumont riding a speckled gelding towards him. “Captain,” he greeted as the crown prince’s bodyguard dismounted into the mud.
“Captain,” Beaumont replied briskly. The knight’s violet eyes narrowed for a moment as he glanced towards the puddle at his right. “I was sent to deliver a letter.” The giant pulled a letter from a satchel on his saddle and presented it promptly to Isaac. “His Majesty hopes the Duchess has weathered the storm safely and regrets to inform her that he will be unable to join this afternoon’s hunt due to an—unfortunate injury that requires rest.”
“His Majesty was injured?” Isaac echoed in surprise. “He looked right enough when I last saw him yesterday afternoon.”
Beaumont scratched beneath his right ear awkwardly, then gave Isaac a tight-lipped nod. “If you could present that letter to the Duchess.”
“I will take it in straight away,” Isaac replied and watched as the giant hoisted himself back into the saddle.
“I must return to his Majesty’s side. I wish you and her Grace good luck with the hunt,” Beaumont said and turned the gelding around as he moved swiftly back to the Manor.
“Well,” Isaac muttered as he looked down at the envelope. “This changes the plan drastically.” He studied the puddles around the tent once more critically, sniffed the air cautiously, then shook his head and turned to enter the Duchess’s tent. “Your Grace, a letter from—”
“Captain!” Hana whispered sharply with a warning glare in his direction.
Isaac halted abruptly as he took in the three young women lounged comfortably upon the Duchess’s bed. Ivy lay fast asleep on one side of Hana, her face curled into a pillow, while Kirsi appeared to have fallen asleep on Hana’s lap.
“Ah—” the Captain coughed softly and cleared his throat, “—there is a letter from the Crown Prince.”
Hana sighed and frowned at him. “Can’t it wait? They both need their rest after last night.”
“Well—” Isaac slowly lowered the letter and then blinked uncertainly. For a moment, Hana’s disappointing frow reminded him of another woman, one that he still deeply resented. “The rain has all but stopped outside,” the Captain explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “And the Duchess asked me to inform her when the weather cleared.”
Hana laughed as her lips twitched cynically. “As heartless as ever, Captain.”
A prickle of guilt gnawed at Isaac’s stomach as he cleared his throat again. “Your Grace! A message was delivered from the Crown Prince!” he announced in a booming voice normally reserved for his men.
***
The Duchess flinched awake against Hana’s lap, then rolled over to frown at Isaac’s blurry image. “Captain? What is it? Has the rain finally stopped?”
“The clouds have almost completely cleared, your Grace,” Isaac replied as he stepped closer and held out a letter. “This was just delivered by Captain Beaumont. Apparently, his Majesty sustained a minor injury which will prevent him from joining the hunt today.”
“What?” Carina sat up abruptly and snatched the letter from his hand. Behind her, Hana sighed, then removed her shawl and draped over the Duchess’s shoulders as Carina ripped the envelope open, pulled out the letter, and blinked rapidly as she attempted to make out the elegant handwriting.
“What should we do now?” Isaac asked hesitantly. The Duchess lowered the letter with a frown. “If the Crown Prince is unable to enter the forest for the hunt—”
“Then I’ll just have to hope the Marquess is desperate enough to come after me,” Carina answered as she dropped the letter onto the bed beside her and rose to her feet. “Since the rain has cleared, ready the men, Captain. We need to bring back enough kills to ensure that Borghese losses all hope of winning this competition. Also, tell Lieutenant Arlo to increase vigilance around the Manor and add a few knights to her Highness protection as well.”
“Eleanora?” Hana murmured curiously. “Could she be in danger as well?”
Carina turned and sat down on the bed once more as she took the Viscountess’s hand. “That depends on which route the Marquess will take to avoid his crimes. If he can make Priscilla a royal consort, Nicholas might be persuaded to ignore the Marquess’s overreach as long as the Crown Prince is confident that he has Borghese’s full support.”
“And if Borghese’s daughter becomes a royal consort, Eleanora will be in the way of Priscilla becoming queen,” Hana added with a worried frown.
“The Crown Princess can look after herself,” Carina replied reassuringly. “She has Major Garrett at her side along with Lord Acheron.” She turned sharply to Isaac, who still waited at the foot of the bed. “Captain, you may go. See that all is prepared and find our huntsman.”
“Yes, your Grace.”
Hana reached past the Duchess to pick up the letter as Isaac made his exit. “This—isn’t Nicholas’s handwriting.”
“No,” Carina confirmed. “But it was delivered by Captain Beaumont, so I trust its contents.” She pulled the corner of Hana’s shawl to her mouth to cover a yawn, then leaned around the Viscountess to check on the slumbering new Viscountess. “Ivy should rest for today. Would you stay behind and keep her company?”
“If that will make you happy,” Hana replied with an affectionate smile as she took the Duchess’s hand gently in her own. “As long as you promise to be careful and stay safe out there.”
Carina smiled as she squeezed the Viscountess’s hand. “Thank you for being my support.”
“Always.” Hana laughed as she smoothed out the disheveled locks of Carina’s hair. “But you may want to tidy up a bit before heading out.”
Carina nodded absently, her focus caught by the broken seal she had overlooked when opening the letter. She folded the parchment back together and connected the two halves of a family sigil.
“Isn’t that the Kensington House sigil?” Hana murmured as she tapped the broken pieces of wax. “I recognize it from the letters Eleanora received from her father.”
“This letter—the writing is very elegant—” Carina murmured as she studied the message once more. “A woman’s handwriting.” She frowned, immediately dismissing Eleanora, whose handwriting she was already familiar with. ‘I doubt it was Lady Isabella. I don’t see Nicholas asking his mother-in-law to write letters. That only leaves—’ “Marchioness Serilda.”
“That makes sense,” Hana commented with a thoughtful frown. “The Marchioness did seem to be on rather friendly terms with the Crown Prince.”
“She was almost his stepmother at one point,” Carina replied as she studied the letter with a sigh. ‘Could the Marchioness or Earl Percy have something to do with Nicholas’s sudden injury?’
***
Percy looked over the head of the footman currently brushing down his riding jacket as Serilda appeared through the tent entrance. “Ah—there you are. Lord Eustis was just in here looking for you.”
“I’m sure I’ll catch up with him later,” Serilda replied as she strolled in a circle around the Earl, her moss-agate green eyes admiring his figure as the footman stepped away with an awkward cough. “I wanted to inform you that I will be sitting out of this afternoon’s hunt.”
“Oh?” Percy raised a brow curiously. “Your fiance will be disappointed to hear that.”
Serilda smiled at the mild irritation he used to inflect that word. “Hmm, well, I’d rather avoid all the mud you both are bound to come back layered in.” Serilda shook her head then turned to the table where a box of cufflinks waited. “May I?” She asked with a nod to the Earl’s empty sleeves.
“Please,” Percy answered with a relaxed smile before he turned to the footman. “You may go make sure my horse is ready.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The footman bowed his head and took three steps back before turning to leave.
“Why didn’t you bring Russell with you?” Serilda asked as she glanced over the assortment of jeweled cufflinks.
“Because Russel is far too old to be riding around on horseback or tracking through the mud,” Percy replied as he moved to the mirror to check his hair. “Besides, he did a good job training that footman to serve as his replacement on such temporary occasions.”
“Do you even know the footman’s name?”
Percy frowned as he glanced at her in the mirror. “It’s Peter. What of it?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m just surprised you bothered to learn his name,” Serilda replied with a playful smile. “You are rather fond of Russel, aren’t you. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
“For a mortal, I do find him rather—irreplaceable,” Percy replied hesitantly, then turned to face her. “Have you found something you like?”
“Mmm, will these do?” Serilda selected a pair of cuff links from the box and held two cufflinks of rubies shaped like red eyes.
The Earl frowned as the image of Vele’s crow figure with its blood-red eyes flickered behind his eyes.
“Too morbid?” Serilda asked, noticing the shift in his expression.
“They’re fine,” Percy replied as he stepped forward and held out his right arm. “I should get out there. I have a lot of catching up to do if I still want to win this competition.”
“You could win it easily if you stopped going easy on the Duchess,” Serilda commented as she set one ruby cufflink down and applied the other through the hole between the two buttons on the cuff sleeve. “You’re so well behaved—but is Kirsi even taking any notice?”
“Kirsi is doing what she thinks is best for the future of Lafeara,” Percy replied as the Marchioness finished adjusting the cuff. He tested the clasp, then held out his left arm. “Her focus is on Marquess Borghese right now.”
“Ahh,” Serilda smirks as she adjusts his sleeves and slides the next ruby cufflink through. “That reminds me, there’s been a bit of a hiccup to the Duchess’s plans.”
“Oh?” Percy frowned.
“I went to visit the Crown Prince this morning,” Serilda explained as she stepped back to admire her work. “He had a rather nasty bruise on his chest. It looked as if a tree fell on him.”
“Really?” Percy pulled down his jacket sleeves and turned to the mirror. “Will the prince be able to ride?”
“The Royal Physician managed to convince Nicholas to stay in bed. I doubt he’ll be able to get out of it at all today—much less ride through the forest hunting deer.”
“What an unexpected turn of fate.” The Earl turned back to the Marchioness with a sudden frown. “Does this have anything to do with you’re staying behind?”
“I was planning to keep him company,” Serilda replied. “Did you know Nicholas has been in touch with Pope Jericho? His Holiness will be traveling to Lafeara personally for the coronation.”
“We expected as much,” Percy replied dismissively as he brushed back his mahogany brown bangs and then reached for his hunting cap. “It servers our interest if he does.”
“But did you know the Pope choose to make the journey because Nicholas has something Jericho wants?”
Percy turned towards her with a frown. “And did you find out what that something is?”
“Of course. The Zarius slave the Duchess has been protecting,” Serilda replied as she took the Earl’s cap and set it on his head.
“Lady Hana,” Percy smirked. “Well done.”
Serilda laughed. “Compared to his father, Nicholas is much easier to manage.”
The Earl’s smile promptly faded. “There’s no reason to degrade yourself for this prince, Serilda.”
The Marchioness green eyes flashed dangerously as she smiled. “I am aware, cousin. Have a little faith. I am very much in control of the situation.” She stepped closer and stroked his cheek gently. “I won’t do anything that would displease you, my King.”
Percy took her hand and kissed the back of it before turning towards the tent entrance. “Report back to me upon my return if anything interesting happens while I’m gone.” He smiled as he nodded to the three crows dozing on their perch in the corner of the tent. “I have a feeling the Marquess will be receiving some rather unsettling news today.”
Serilda smiled in understanding. “That is good to hear. A little bit of chaos during the Royal Hunt is necessary to provide us with the perfect cover for assassination.”