Two Hundred Years in Slavery is all the people of Xathania have known. Toiling and dying for a kingdom that has only snarled at them. Not until hope surfaces as a story in the wind and the flames of a spirit long forgotten resurfaces to face the g...
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Samael was smart enough to know that good news was never delivered at night so when he got wind of the rider that approached the manor, he woke Derrick up and they both waited for the messenger to be let in. A unit of guards flanked the man, hands on their swords.
The messenger spoke clearly as he informed them that he rode at the behest of King Darin of Welkamia.
Derrick sent for Callahan who arrived there within moments. The messenger did not accord him as his king but just Lord Callahan.
Callahan did not waver as the messenger said, 'The Lady Anne, Lord Phillip, Lord Kylan, Lord Donald and the Lady Clair were behead for treason. You are to sail back to Goxa and swear fealty to King Darin and his Consort Queen Francisca.'
'Darin is Lord of Zolt or did you hit your head?' Callahan said in an oddly calm tone.
'The Lords crowned him as King,' the messenger informed. 'The Lord Triston presides over Foxam and serves as adviser. The Lord Blake and his family were put to death for treason.'
'My family is not dead,' Callahan clenched his fist, causing Samael to take a step forward.
'Get out,' Callahan ordered and the messenger did. Callahan had a better temper than him, better control. The King excused himself and walked towards the stairs. To his wife, Samael guessed and only hoped that it would not cause a heart attack to hear such news.
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Eleonor had heard Callahan leave with a guard and sat in bed, waiting for him to return. She had weighed the options that an annulled marriage offered and decided that the stigma would be overwhelming.
She was deep in thought when Callahan walked in. There was something wrong, Eleonor could feel it. She got out of the bed full of worry as she approached him. Callahan had a grime expression on his face, his bottom eyelid was lined with unshed tears.
'What is the matter?' She asked as softly as possible, letting go of her childish attitude just this once.
Callahan said nothing. She believed he couldn't speak. She guided him to the bed and told him that she would be back, she needed to know what was wrong, why he was too conflicted to speak. She found the Lord of Xir and Samael talking to Reid. They stopped as soon as they saw her.
Reid bowed while Derrick and Samael only stared.
'What's wrong with him?' Eleonor kept her eyes on Reid. He stood at his full height and retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket before handing it to her. She wasted no time in reading it.
By Decree of King Darin of Welkamia,
Callahan of Goxa and Eleonor of Foxam are to sail back with the former King's guard to Welkamia or face the same punishment of beheading as their traitor families.
The Lady Anne, Lord Phillip, Lord Kylan, Lord Donald and the Lady Clair have been beheaded for treason.
The Lord Blake of Foxam, the Lady Nielle of Foxam, Lord Desmond of Foxam , Lady Sofia of Foxam, Lord Dennis of Foxam, Lady Elma of Foxam, Lord Simon of Foxam, Lady Collet of Foxam, Lord Gareth of Foxam and Princess Asha of Asen have also been beheaded for treason.
The Lord Triston now presides over Foxam with the Lord Eric as his heir.
Swear fealty or die.
Eleonor read it again.
She fell on her knees and read it again. She read it slow. She read it fast. She read it out loud. She read it in a whisper.
She read it to herself.
Had Triston betrayed them?
She read it again to be sure.
Her parents, her brothers, their wives, Callahan's sisters, Anne's husband, the children.
The children.
'The Children?' She looked at Reid who didn't so much as blink.
The gods had abandoned them. Had abandoned Xathania first and now them too. Now, her family. The people she loved. Kylan, Donald, Dennis, and Baby Sofia.
'Sofia is a baby,' she let out. 'A baby?'
Eleonor could not breathe. She could not think, the weight of this loss. The weight of this havoc.
'It is not true,' Eleonor looked at the Lord of Xir. But then she realized that it was. A messenger would not cross the seas with a lie. 'I pray every day. Every single day and they let this happen. They sit on the Mount of glory and watch us suffer and die. Those who worship Plotas rise high in the world yet those little boys. That baby GIRL! Died screaming.'
Eleonor shook her head, tears streamed down her eyes. She noticed the room light up but didn't stop cursing the gods, damning them. Then she screamed. Like a mad woman she screamed. The room grew so bright but she didn't care.
Why not her?
Why them?
Why?
Someone hugged her but she didn't look, didn't care. She only screamed and held on to the letter so tight that it turned to ash.
