Throne Away - a fantasy in progress chapter two

CHAPTER TWO

“Sons of whores and dogs!” the King cursed when told the news.

Batrick nodded as Holt’s scowl of anger seemed to grow deeper.

“You’ll have your spies hung and quartered?” the King asked and turned toward his Queen as she sat a throne beside him.

He didn’t expect Holt to draw and quarter anyone, even though he said it. The siege engines would see to all of their destruction soon enough.

The Queen took his hand and held it in her own.

“Is there still a way?”

The King turned to Holt.

“You know what she asks.”

The General nodded.

“A small force, perhaps. A sully through the front gate as a distraction as they ride away.”

“Two distractions?” Batrick added. “If one group is spied fleeing, they will give chase, but two can serve and they will think it a warning to neighboring kingdoms.”

The King nodded at the wisdom of the suggestion.

“Can your magic create a third distraction?”

“Your majesty?” Batrick tilted his head in confusion.

“An illusion of a larger army, perhaps or something to confuse and befuddle our enemy?” the King clarified.

Batrick nodded.

“I live to serve.”

“We will all die in his service, so save the boot licking and get on with it,” Holt barked.

“How many will you send?” the King asked.

“A dozen should do,” Holt considered.

He snapped his fingers and a guard near the door leaped.

“Get Sir Roderick.”

The guard hustled through the doorway to retrieve the Knight.

“A good choice,” said the King. “Do you approve?”

The Queen gave a regal tilt of her royal head and graced her husband with a smile.

“He is the best choice,” she said. “If it were not for his charge, I should wonder at the wisdom of sending your best knight away from the fight we are to have.”

“You did not see the trouble they have in store for us, my Queen,” advised Holt. “Our best knights will be of little use buried under a pile of stone and rubble.”

The King and Queen both gasped, though he was better at hiding it. The bluntness of their General’s words left them both shaken.

“Could we surrender?” she asked in a soft voice.

“We could,” Holt said. “We will. If only to save the citizens locked in here with us.”

“And when we do?”

The King shook his head.

“You will go with Sir Roderick and Kimber,” he said.

“I will not abandon you,” she said, and the set of her firm chin told the King that an argument would be wasted on her.

“Our daughter needs you.”

“Our daughter needs both of us.”

“Your King commands it,” said Holt. “They will not go easy on those of us who remain.”

The clamor of armor clanked across the stone outside of the great hall.

The doors opened to emit Sir Roderick, the mounted Knight who Batrick bounced off of in the courtyard.

The man held his helm under one arm and glared at the robed wizard as he marched across the long runner leading up to the raised thrones.

“My King,” he knelt in front of his ruler. “My Queen. General.”

The Knight nodded to each in turn and bowed low.

“Sir Roderick, rise,” the King commanded. “We have a task for you and you alone.”

Sir Roderick used one hand to push off his bended knee and stood in front of the throne.

“I serve,” he answered.

“You are charged with the safety of Princess Kimber and her escape to our ally and neighbor, Arboryard.”

“My King.”

“You will lead a contingent of twelve Knights of the Brotherhood to protect your Princess and deliver her safely to her new home.”

Roderick glanced at the Queen and Holt.

“Majesty,” he agreed.

“You will accompany him Batrick,” the King turned to the wizard.

Batrick bowed his head.

“Wouldn’t your wizard be better by your side?” Roderick glared at the man in the robe.

“My wizard goes where I command, Sir Knight.”

Roderick bowed.

“My King.”

“You will be accompanied by the Queen,” the King said.

“Husband,” she snapped.

“I can not vouchsafe your safety here.”

“My place is at your side.”

“You can better protect our daughter and legacy, the heir to our throne.”

“I will be by your side,” she said again the finality of her tone suggested to the King and other men in the room that she would not be swayed nor argued from her position.

The King stared at her for a moment, his face a tumble of regret and confusion, fear and determination. He felt pride at the woman who wished to stand with him against their enemies, and fear that she was facing certain death.

It had never occurred to him until just that moment that he would be dying before the morrow came.

The leader of the Southern armies would surely put him to the blade as soon as he surrendered.
He hoped his sacrifice would earn his people a reprieve, and worried that his wife would receive the same punishment as he.

The King glanced at Holt, and sighed, a grim set to the old man’s face.

Perhaps there was one more thing he could do, if the woman would not go with their daughter to the safety of his alley.

“Batrick,” the King said. “How long to ready your distraction?”

“I can be ready in the hour, Sire.”

“And Sir Roderick, how long to prepare for your journey?”

“We will be ready in the hour as well,” Roderick shot a glare in Batrick’s direction.

“Twelve Knights to accompany you,” the King commanded. “And your retinue. A dozen more to go in the opposite direction. Make it so.”

He waved a hand to dismiss everyone from the room and held his Queen’s hands to his lips.

“I hope we are doing the right thing,” he whispered into her skin and she shivered.

She had no answer for him as he helped her rise so they could go say good bye to their progeny.