Evan cursed quietly. What was Eden doing here?! This could endanger his entire plan! Before he could do something to get the situation back under control, the king had grabbed the sword of one of the guards and stormed forward.
"So it's true! Damned Skandians!" he screamed, wildly swinging the sword back and forth. Evan raised an eyebrow. He hadn't thought that the king had it in him. He wasn't terribly old, but he had never been the fighting type.
"What is going on here?" a Skandian voice thundered across the beach. The king furiously turned towards the giant Skandian.
"You!" he exclaimed. "Who are you?" The Skandian stepped forward, a threatening look on his face. Evan started to feel panic rising inside him. This was not going according to plan. This was going absolutely against the plan!
"I am Erak Starfollower, oberjarl of Skandia," the Skandian proudly announced.
Apparently the king thought that this Starfollower fellow was a good target to release his anger upon, considering he headed for the bigger figure, roaring. Evan wanted to say something to stop him, before he would do something stupid, but nothing left his mouth.
"You kidnapped my son! You shall pay! Pay!" the king screamed.
"Father, no!" Eden exclaimed, startled, jumping in between his father and the oberjarl. The king barely managed to stop his sword, before he split Eden in two.
"Eden, what do you think you're doing?!" the king exclaimed. All the blood had run from his face.
"The Skandians didn't kidnap me," Eden hurriedly explained. "I left by my own choice."
Evan closed his eyes. This would bring trouble. The king was clearly taken aback. He opened and closed his mouth several time, without saying anything.
"Why?" he then managed to ask, his voice breaking.
Horace regarded his young friend, who was hesitating whether or not he should tell his story. The knight slipped through the crowd to the front and put his shoulder on Celia's shoulder.
"It is time to tell the truth," he said quietly. "Go to him." Celia looked up at him, her eyes wide, afraid for what was about to come. Horace nodded at her.
"You'll figure something out," he assured her. "And if not, I'm still here." He chuckled, tapping his scabbard. Celia smiled weakly, took a deep breath and turned around to join her lover.
"I..." Eden started. "I left because... Well..." He looked up from the ground when he noticed Celia had joined them. With renewed courage he continued his explanation. "I left because I fell in love with an incredible girl and I was afraid you wouldn't agree with it," he quickly said, grabbing hold of Celia's hand in the meantime. The colourfully clad man, apparently the king of Picta, had lowered the sword as he listened to his son. He regarded Celia for a moment.
"Why would you think I would disapprove?" he then calmly asked. Eden shuffled his feet a little.
"Well... I thought you'd think I would have to marry a princess, or something like that..." he mumbled, avoiding his father's gaze.
Horace had taken a good look of the king and wondered how and why this man had ever came up with the idea to declare war on Araluen. He appeared to be a peaceful man, caring a lot about his son. The wrinkles around his eyes and the grey streaks in his hair seemed to be more the result of worry than of age.
"Eden, look at me," he said. Eden reluctantly did as he was told. "I don't care who you end up marrying. I want you to be happy." Eden's jaw dropped. Horace softly chuckled. Everything would turn out fine for his young friend. "A happy king is a good king," the man continued. "And as far as I'm concerned, you are still my heir." Father and son smiled at each other. "And still I wonder why you've gotten that ridiculous idea to run away, instead of talking to someone," the king added, frowning.
"Actually, I have spoken with Evan about it, and he advised me that this was the best option," Eden admitted sheepishly.
The king abruptly turned around towards his ship. Horace, too, looked that way and now recognized the man who had left the ship with the king as the same man who had captured him and his friends.
"Evan!" he roared. The man flinched ever so slightly. "What is the meaning of this?" Evan quickly regained his posture and headed for the three people in the middle of the beach, an apologetic smile on his face.
"Majesty, I'm sure this has all been one big misunderstanding," he started. The king didn't want to hear it and interrupted him.
"I am fairly certain that it is not," he grumbled, regarding Evan suspiciously squinting. "You brought us here, to Skandia, for the sole purpose of attacking the Skandians to free my son. And now we're here, it turns out that he wasn't taken by the Skandians at all! All you've done is lie to me. I am not sure whether or not I should even trust you anymore." Eden quietly stood there, looking somewhat uncomfortable. Horace remembered that Eden had told him that he'd spoken with his brother - who actually wasn't his brother, but seemed like that - about it. That must have been Evan. He could imagine that Eden found it incredibly difficult to make such a big mistake because of his brother's advice.
Evan nodded hesitantly.
"Hmm, I understand," he said, seemingly lost in thought. "Luckily I have something that can explain my actions," he continued, again with his apologetic smile. Horace hadn't been Evan biggest fan to start with, but now he understood that the man was not to be trusted. Especially not for someone as young and naive as Eden.
"Well, you better get on with that 'explanation' then," the king grumbled.
Halt was bored and he knew that was not good for his health. He had been entertained just fine for most of the trip, tearing up sails and other important objects, and being a pain in the ass for Evan. He had made up plans, sneaked around outside his wine cellar-prison and created more than enough little activities for himself to stay occupied. Now the ship had reached its destination, the Scoti had realized that ropes would not stop him. So now he had been chained up in some sort of dimly lit room. There was nowhere to go and nothing to do to take his mind off of his seasickness. Worries about his friends, worries about what would happen... And that combination had made him curl up into a ball of miserable human being in a corner of his small cell.
The seasickness made him feel so awful that he didn't even try to escape when a guard lifted him onto his feet and released his chains, while making a face at the former contents of Halt's stomach, which had been spread over the floor, not really making the situation any better. As if in a trance, Halt let the guards take him to the top deck, and from there down the plank onto the beach. Unconsciously he made the guards' job quite difficult by leaning on them, barely moving his legs.
"Halt!" he heard a vaguely familiar voice call out somewhere in the distance, before the guards let go of him and he dropped down onto the ground, unconscious.
"What did you do to him?!" Will screamed feeling angry with being powerless in the situation, as he crossed the distance separating him from his former mentor. The events of the day were starting to take their toll on him, causing tears to stream down his face. First there had been Hal, who had looked death in the eyes, then the emotional reunion with his friends, and now the damned Scoti who had done who knew what to Halt... He dropped down onto his knees and turned the older man onto his back. Halt blinked, dazed. Will hurried to take his flask off his belt. Halt eagerly drank all the water. The conditions on the ship must have been terrible, Will thought. Halt's seasickness had never been this bad.
"Will?" Halt murmured. Will bowed down, so Halt could see him properly.
"I'm here," he answered. Halt closed his eyes, a peaceful expression on his face.
"Halt? Halt! Halt, don't die! Don't you dare leave me alone! Don't..." Halt opened an eye, an annoyed expression on his face.
"I'm not dying. I'm simply enjoying some fresh air," he said. Will let out a relieved chuckle and went to sit up straight. Everything would be fine for Halt.
"What does this man," the king of Picta angrily exclaimed, "have to do with your treachery?" Will turned around and got to his feet.
"Yes, explain that to us, would you," Horace added. "First you make us your prisoners and then you release us on the condition that Halt stays. You don't strike me as the kind of person who regrets his actions and comes to bring our friend back to us."
Will was startled by Horace's short story. Had they been taken captive? A wave of guilt hit him. If only he'd stayed with them...
"There is a very simple explanation for all of this," Evan answered, this time without his fake apologetic smile. Apparently he had realized that nobody was fooled by it. "He is the one who motivated me to do everything I have done." Evan pointed to Will, which surprised him, but also slightly angered him.
"What in Gorlog's nosehair do I have to do with it?" he exclaimed indignantly. Evan smiled remissibly, and then turned towards Halt with a cold expression on his face, who had somewhat recovered and came to stand besides Will.
"You didn't tell him, did you?" he asked. The tone of his voice gave Will a chill. Halt didn't seem to be bothered by Evan's hateful gaze. "There was nothing to say," he replied rigidly. This seemed to make Evan even more furious. Will looked from one to the other. He had completely lost track of what they were talking about. "What didn't he say?" he therefore asked. Evan looked at him, his expression suddenly as the one of a sad little child."We are brothers, Will," he said.