Chapter 14: Bated Breath


    Bated Breath


    Middanhal


    A period of mourning was announced, involving two days of prayer and offerings. On the second day, Rilday, the prince would be buried. It was early on the first day of mourning, Laugday, when the jarl of Theodstan sought entry to the knight marshals study. Sir Roderic, with the dual power as marshal and dragonlord of Adalrik, received him. Jarl Theodoric, I recognise you, Roderic said, though I do not think we have ever been introduced.


    We have not, the jarl replied in a courteous tone of voice.


    I see you are dressed for mourning, the marshal said, gesturing towards Theodorics attire.


    The jarl looked down upon his ck tunic. This is what I always wear, he said and moved the conversation forward. I am here because I think you should raise the levies and bring them under Ordermand.


    The lord marshal has every intention of doing that once he reaches Hthiod, Roderic answered.


    No, I mean here in Adalrik. Have the jarls muster their men, thendgraves too.


    Sir Reynold warned me of this, Roderic said, leaning back in his seat.


    Warned you of what? Theodoric asked confused.


    That you would seek to interfere. That you have not forgotten the years wearing this ring. Roderic underlined his im by touching the ring of the dragonlord upon his finger.


    That is an absurd notion, Theodoric denied.


    Yet here you are, the knight marshal simply replied.


    Listen to me. Some of the other jarls are still unhappy with the Adalthing. Where it was my design, I might add, that lead to you wearing that ring, the jarl insisted.


    An office I take most seriously and where I will keep my own counsel, thank you, Roderic replied.


    If the threat from the ounders is as great as rumoured, the jarls armies will do much to bolster the Order. And with their armies sent abroad, they will be disinclined to stir trouble in Adalrik.


    And would you dly call for conscription in your own jarldom, my lord?


    If all were to do so, yes, Theodoric imed in reply. Not as the only one. The other jarls would suspect me of schemes.


    And you never scheme, clearly, Roderic said with a sardonic smile. I can tell you that the other jarls would do no such thing dly. The tax they pay to support the Order already chafes at them. In my years in the Order, I recall a dozen Adalthings where they attempted to have it reduced.


    I am aware, Theodoric said curtly. I was often present.


    If I now add to that by demanding that they raise their levies, outfit them, and send them abroad, they would truly grow discontent. Worse, they might refuse! And with all my soldiers departing for Hthiod, how am I to force them to do anything?


    They would not dare refuse a direct order, Theodoric imed.


    Yet if I do nothing they will dare to stir trouble, as you put it? No, my lord, that does not ring true. I tread a fine bnce keeping you jarls appeased, and I require no counsel. If you wish to help me, you may leave me in peace to pursue my work. Seeing no signs in the knight marshals expression that he might be persuaded otherwise, Theodoric left the chamber.


    ~~~~


    Brother, what does this mean? asked Arndis, biting her lip. She was sitting down, while Brand was pacing about. The siblings had both retreated to their quarters in refuge from the sounds of sorrow permeating the castle. Arndis handmaiden was in her alcove, crying.


    The realms are without an obvious heir. As far as I know that has never happened before. Who knows what it means? Brand shrugged, though his expression was far less casual than his gesture. The House of Adal is gone. Its eldest line, in any case. I suspect in the end the jarls will decide on something. Absent a king, they rule.


    I meant what does this mean for us? We are dragonborn. Your own name proims it.


    I doubt the jarls care about us, or that any others do, for that matter. I may have overestimated the importance of our colours when I returned to Adalrik. It has brought me neither influence nor position, Brand smiled without mirth.


    I heard a rumour, Arndis said, her voice not entirely steady. Some say the line of Sigvard is cursed. The prince in, his father in, the old king  they say that after the death of his son, he grew mad with grief. The King of Grief, they call him still.


    I was not here, I would not know if he did, Brand said and sat down next to his sister. Come now, talk of curses is an offence to us. If I hear any speak thus, I will have his tongue.


    I am not frightened by what they say, I am frightened if it is true. Father was not much more fortunate than you, Arndis pointed out.


    I fear the reasons for that are far more ordinary than involving a curse. No, Sister, the beauty of us having neithernd nor wealth is that we are not important. The only people we are in danger from are the moneylenders, Brand jested, though Arndis did not smile. That reminds me, I will have to run an errand, Brand added.


    What for? Arndis asked.


    To borrow money and fetch the tailors. We will need ck clothes.


    ~~~~


    It was not yet noon when Athelstan walked outside and found his brother tending to a falcon; the jarl of Isarn was well known for his birds of prey. Isenhart was carefully examining the feathers of the falcon when Athelstan came up to him. I noticed that Cousin Athelbold was missing from the morning meal. I went to his room just now and found it empty of his belongings.


    I have sent Athelbold north, home, the jarl said, his attention on the falcon.


    Is that so? He will have to ride hard to return in time, Athelstan said.


    Athelbold will not be here in time to observe the rites, Isenhart told his brother.


    An odd time for sending him away, Athelstan remarked with suspicion in his voice. We should all show our respect when the prince isid to rest.


    Plenty of us will be there, Isenhart said dismissively. The House of Isarn shall be ready to bid the House of Adal farewell.


    As you say, Athelstan said. He was about to turn and walk away when Isenhart spoke again.


    The Orders preparations  when are you leaving for Lake Myr?


    I should have left already, actually, Athelstan exined. I only dy until the prince isid to rest.


    Do the remaining Order troops travel with you?


    Not all, Athelstan shook his head. There are a few regimentsing from the north under Sir Fionn. They are thest that will depart for Hthiod. But they will not be in Middanhal until Disday, I believe. Why do you ask?


    Disday, Isenhart said contemtively, ignoring the question. And they will depart the day after, I presume.


    Presumably, Athelstan said, less patiently. Why this interest in the movements of the Order?


    I intend to hold a memorial gathering for all the nobles of Adalrik in memory of Prince Sigmund, the jarl exined. It will be held on  Nilday, I think.


    On the day thest Order troops depart Middanhal, Athelstanmented. Why this remarkable coincidence?


    Because Adalrik, indeed all of Adalmearc is weakened, Brother, Isenhart said, and the duty falls to us to restore its strength, especially now in the absence of an heir. Come with me inside, the jarl continued, returning the falcon to a nearby servant. We have much to discuss.


    ~~~~


    The Citadel of Middanhal not only had many floors and tall towers, it also extended deep underground. Delved by Dwarves, rumour had it, though it wasmon practice to im anything old was built or touched by Dwarves. The lower levels of the Citadel served several purposes. There wererge reservoirs of water, some filled by the river and some kept separate in case a devious enemy might contaminate the river somehow. There were alsorge food stores, kept cool and renewed by each years harvest. While it might not feed the entire citys poption for too long, it could certainly feed the inhabitants of the Citadel for many years.


    Deep in the dark was also the kings treasury, built in a ce with no windows and only one heavily guarded point of ess. Furthermore, the intricate lock as well as the heavy doors into the treasury were, naturally, built by Dwarves and would remain unharmed even if the earth itself should sunder. Finally, there was onerge room with a specific purpose, kept in the far end opposite the food stores. It was the Hall of the Honoured Dead.


    As with most other rooms underground, the hall was vaulted to increase the effect of remaining cold even in summertime. It did not store food, water, or gold, however, but bodies. This was not their final resting ce; the hall contained nothing other than hundreds of empty stone bs. Each wasrge enough for several men to be ced upon them if necessary. At the other end of the hall was one b raised, intended for those of higher rank. This was a temporary ce to store the dead that for some reason could not be buried immediately. In wartime, especially during a siege, hundreds or thousands of soldiers might die defending the city, and burial would not be possible until the siege ended. Or in the case of royalty, the artisans would need time to finish fashioning the sarcophagus. While the tomb had been prepared for some time when old King Sighelm died, the guilds had not been as foreseeing in the case of Prince Sigmund.


    The eleven-year-old boy nowy on the raised b. He had the dark locks and pale skin of the Sigvard blood, even paler now in death. The norns had washed his body and treated it with their oils, which slowed decay; if necessary, he could have been left in the cold hall for weeks or months to little effect. He was wearing dark blue clothes, new fabric unstained by blood. On his chest, with his small hands sped around the hilt, was his sword; it was little more than a long dagger to a grown man. Unlike many other things in the city, the sword was with certainty made by Dwarves, quite recently too; it had been a gift for his tenth birthday.


    The prince was not alone in the hall, but the other person was breathing and still had warmth. It was his mother, thedy Isabel, princess of Hthiod, widow, and now childless as well. There were no chairs or indeed any furniture of any kind except the biers, permanent and made from stone unlike the cloak that had carried Sigmund back to Middanhal. So Isabel stood, asionally letting her hand touch cold cheek, brushing a few hairs one way or the other, or disturbing the pose of his hands by gently cing her own on top.


    The sound of footsteps marred her reverie; although soft, even the slightest vibration resounded in the sombre stone hall. Lady Isabel? a voice spoke. It was Elis, the former dragonlord. The woman did not reply, so Elis continued to approach her. I am told you have not left this hall since yesterday, Elis added, but still no reply came. Mydy, you need to rest. And eat. Somewhere else.


    What does it matter, Isabel said tonelessly.


    It matters to me, Elis said, cautiously moving closer. I would not see you waste away.


    They killed my boy, Isabel spoke, her voice still monotonous. My husband was not enough for them. They had to take my child as well.


    And a terrible thing it is, Elis said soothingly, cing his hand on her shoulder, but you should not follow them.


    She in turn merely leaned over the princes body, facing away. I lived for my boy, she whispered. He would have made such a strong, great king. What do I have to live for now?


    I am still by your side, Elis began to speak.


    You! You were supposed to control the Adalthing. You were supposed to safeguard my sons future! Look what happened, she said, ring furiously at him before turning her gaze back to her son.


    I understand your anger, Elis said slowly, but I am not responsible for your sons death. If you need a reason to live, then consider revenge against those who are truly responsible.


    And do you know whose arrow did this? Can you tell me the man that shed my sons blood? Isabel asked pointedly, cing her hand above Sigmunds throat where the arrow had pierced his skin.


    I do not know by what hand that arrow was loosened. But I know by whosemand, Elis said, which made Isabel look back at him. Who made Sigmund leave the city, leave the protection of the Citadel? With the heir to the realms gone, who stands to gain? Who is now undisputedly the most powerful man in the kingdom? Elis asked.


    Vale, Isabel whispered. Vale, she hissed.


    Do not forget Theodstan, Elis added. This was his design as well.


    I will forget none of them, Isabel swore.


    You are not alone, mydy. We will not let them escape justice, Elis said, once more touching Isabels shoulder. She turned to gaze at her son again but did not shake his hand off.


    ~~~~


    At the Vale residence, there were extra guards at the gate. The day had gone without incident and the first evening bell had rung, but the inhabitants of the estate still felt the pressure of the city upon them; none dared guess at what the night might bring. While the streets in many other parts of the city were filled with mourners, they were empty in the north-eastern district; the nobles of Adalrik stayed indoors behind their walls and with their guards and servants surrounding them. Thus, it was easy to both see and hear a single rider swiftlying up the Arnsweg from the Temple square. Some of the archers on the outer wall of the Vale estate prepared arrows while the soldiers at the ground readied their spears.


    As the rider approached, the guards saw his cloak flowing red and gold behind him before they recognised his face and hurried to open the gate. Without slowing down, the rider galloped past them and into the courtyard where his horse copsed; he himself elegantly managed to get out of the saddle and stand while his horse sank to the ground. rmed by themotion, the jarl, his daughter, and his nephew came out of the house, one after the other. Konstans, Valerian said astonished upon recognising his brother. I only sent a message yesterday. How can you already be here?


    News reached Valcaster before any birds from Middanhal did, Konstans exined. I left several days ago. Took a galley up the river to Coldharbour and rode two  he paused and looked at the horse next to him  three horses to death to get here.


    Alone? Valerian said in shock.


    Some thanes were with me, but their horses were slow, Konstans remarked. I abandoned them somewhere between Coldharbour and here.


    You made it in time, Father, Konstantine said. The burial is tomorrow.


    Good, Konstans nodded. Afterwards, we have to start making ns.


    What ns? asked Valerie.


    Our family is at stake, Konstans told her. But in every tragedy there is opportunity. We must find some way to turn this to our advantage.


    It seems cruel, Valerie said quietly. The prince has not even beenid to rest yet.


    Cold-hearted, perhaps, Konstans admitted. But our adversaries will not be lying idle, nor can we afford to do so.


    Come inside, Valerian said, cing his hand on his brothers shoulder and leading him indoors. Get some wine, catch your breath, and we will talk. You as well, Konstantine, you might as well be there. The jarl, his brother, and his nephew walked inside while Valerie remained outside, watching the stable hands remove the carcass of Konstans steed.


    ~~~~


    In the kitchens of the Citadel, there was the usual hustle and bustle associated with feeding hundreds of people every day. With the first evening bell having rung a while ago, however, the evening meal was finishing, and the kitchen servants were concluding the days business. Food was packed away, though most helped themselves to a few servings when Cooks watchful eyes were elsewhere. Pots, pans, and tes were scrubbed clean and put aside.


    When the activity simmered down and the days chores were close to done, Kate washed her hands and face, went to the room she shared with the other kitchen girls and changed into a clean dress. She returned to the kitchen, walking towards the exit when Cooks sharp voice stopped her. Where are you off to? she demanded to know.


    Work is done, its not your business, Kate said just as sharply.


    Youre my responsibility when you work in my kitchen, Cook retorted.


    If you must know, I was going to the Temple, Kate replied reluctantly.


    Its a bad night for going out, Cook said brusquely. Especially for young girls.


    Im just going straight to the shrine. For Idisea, Kate rified. Then Ill be back in the castle. She showed her hand, which contained a silver mark, several days pay for a kitchen girl.


    Cooks features softened slightly. Well,e straight back then. I dont like you being outside the castle after evening bell. And we have a long day tomorrow, lots to do. You better be sharp and awake, girl.


    I will be, Kate promised, and Cook released her to go to the Temple, leave her offering and say her prayers for the dead prince like so many othermoners had done and would do in these days.