Brooks' horse's hooves ate the land up with every step. For two months now he had traveled from earldom to earldom across all of Averie surveying villages and lands and the shares of crops and goods for his father. He had trinkets from every earl for his father. After so long traveling he was looking forward to a real bath, sleeping in a bed, a good meal, and a kiss from his betrothed. He spurred his horse on faster, his men left being to guard the carriage of goods from thieves.
As he neared Averie he smelled the tantalizing smells wafting in the air. He could see the lights of the castle shining in the night and spurred his horse on. Upon approaching the courtyard he heard laughter and music and heard sounds of dancing. He saw carriage after carriage lined in rows in front of the castle and late arrivals sweeping in wearing fabulous gowns and finely tailored suits.
Brooks halted in front of the stables and dropped from his horse at the sight of a stable boy.
"What is the meaning of this?" Brooks demanded. He could almost taste the roasted pig and calf in the air and his stomach roared in protest.
The lad caught the reins. "Your brother has come home and your father has thrown a grand party because he has received him back safe and sound."
Brooks was furious. He called one of the servants to bring his father out to see him.
He did not wait long before his father appeared. The duke embraced his son but Brooks stood stiff as a board.
"Son, welcome home! Come, come join the festivities. Oh, how happy Miss Roslin will be to see you."
Brooks did not move. He glared at his father, his breath hard and even. "No."
"My boy, what is bothering you?"
"Father, all those years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a grand party celebrated me. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property and wasted your wealth on prostitutes and reckless living, here you are throwing a ball -for him! You serve a feast! What is it I have not done that he has? I fought in the war as a knight by your side. I lead an earldom under your command. I do everything you say, even leave my betrothed on the dawn of our engagement to survey your realm. And yet Zacary does nothing and you love him more. He ran away, Father! He took half your money and wasted it. But when he comes back you do what? Throw your gates open and invite everyone to come to see your son?" Brooks scoffs a hard laugh and looks incredulously at his father. He feels like he is a child again working for his father's attention and never stepping into the spotlight of his mother's.
"Son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours to enjoy. It is only right to celebrate like this and be overjoyed because this brother of yours was once dead and gone, but now he is alive and back with us again. He was lost but now he is found. If it had been you who left me I would have searched high and low and when you finally came back to me I would have embraced you and thrown a party and served a feast. You are my son, my heir. I love you and I love your brother and nothing could change that."
Brooks stared open-mouthed at his father.
The duke smiled and stretched out his arms. Brooks ran in and his father held him tenderly. And Brooks cried.
"Such is a father's love," he whispered. "One day you will understand."
The castle door opened and Beth flew down the stairs. Brooks looked up and broke away from his father in time to catch his angel as she flew into his arms. He bent down and before he closed his eyes to kiss her he smiled at his father. The duke turned slowly to walk back to the castle.
Beth smiled up at Brooks. "Oh, how I have missed you!"
He snuggled into her hair and breathed in deeply. "We must get married soon so next time you can come with me."
Beth let out a nervous hiccup and wiggled to shyly look up at him. She glanced at his lips and he was about to kiss her when a man burst out of the castle. Beth clung to his shirt and looked as if she saw a ghost. Brooks was reaching for his sword as the advanced. He was dressed in a simple black costume and mask that could be worn by anyone at the party. His short hair was damp with sweat and his eyes held a frantic expression. Eyes that looked remarkably like Beth's/ He yanked off his mask and Beth wilted in Brooks' arms.
"Quickly," he screamed, "we must get Beth to safety!"
Brooks pointed his sword at the man's neck and he quickly halted. A small trickle of blood oozed down his neck. "I would always completely agree to that statement except that I do not seem to know who you are."
"Oppugnat!" a scream went up from the castle. Attack. The sound of metal on metal resounded and women began to scream.
The man stared at Brooks. "I am Darcy Roslin and believe it or not I am a friend, not foe."
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The mia stared out at the fighting. Complete chaos had erupted while she had been absent. There could only be twenty or thirty gang members but it was overwhelming with so many unarmed innocents and very little men with weapons to defend them. Men were fighting each other, swords clanging against chairs used as barriers. Tapestries folded on themselves and their torn pieces littered the floor. Smoke choked the dazzlingly dressed crowd, the fire unseen. The ugly roar of fear and fighting echoed around the room.
"We have to get Beth and my father," Zac unsheathed his sword and was about to charge to his death when Mia lay a hand on his arm.
"Darcy has them."
Zac looked into her eyes. "You trust a member of Richard's gang?"
She shook her head. Fear flouted in his eyes and she was sure the terror that tore through her mind was displayed on her visage. "I trust my brother. This," she gestured to the ballroom before them, "this is not him. He would never stand for a grown man holding a sword to the throat of a woman who simply wanted to see her granddaughter swept off her feet. Darcy would never let a finger be laid on Prosper. But Darcy cannot stand up for himself either. I know Richard and worse yet I know my father. They are bullies and only think for themselves. I cannot believe I was ever associated with that. But Darcy is not that. He ran away with Richard to start a group that would make a difference, that would stand against my father. But the one thing my brother is not is brave. He is a coward through and through. I trust him and I trust God to get us through this."
Zac reached for her hand and his big fingers swallowed hers. "I trust you. I trust Darcy. And I trust God."
"This is the mia! She led them here to pilfer from us all."
Mia froze.
"The little scum!" a woman shrieked.
"Find her and we shall end this." A man roared.
Zac edged closer to her and returned his sword. A maid turned and saw the maskless mia with her young master and screamed.
The mia spun and ran, pulling Zac behind her. She had no idea where she was headed but she ran like she was in the woods with grace and speed, darting around obstacles and doing anything but listening to the voices that called out false treachery. She eventually lost Zac's hand as she climbed stairs and took wild turns. When she heard no pursuit she chooses a door and slipped inside. She sighed and slipped down to the dust-covered floor. Shadows cast by the moonlight of a single glass window enveloped her and tears began to drip onto her powdered face.
She had lost at life. Her baby girl was gone, her only friend probably thought she organized this whole raid and she could not even look in her sister's eyes after betraying her what seemed like forever ago and last night all at once. She lost time as she sat and let emotion shroud her like a heavy veil. How could life have gotten her so mixed up? None of this would have started if she had not rescued Prosper. But would God have brought her to a different place if she had let that baby die that November night? Would she be where she was today if she had not run, had not been a coward like Darcy? Was every Roslin like that? Unwilling to stand for what they believe or even attempt to? Darcy could not stand to kill people in a useless war overpower so he ran from a draft. Angelica could not bear the thought of her father finding her baby so rather than let a changeable futuristic event happen she ran away. To what prevail was their fleeing? Fear was unfleeable. Darcy is in a robbing, assaulting, murdering pit of thieves and Angelica was a thief whose treasure has been stone. At least Darcy was fighting back. All Angelica could do was weakly collapse on the floor and cry out for a Savior.
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Zac was slowly losing a race to time. Angelica, Beth and his father had all vanished and a swarm of pirates had descended on his home. He had searched everywhere for Beth and his father after he lost Angelica and he found himself on a deck overlooking the gardens, sword at hand, fighting at his back. He was lost at him and in desperate need of allies.
The lanterns that light the stables lit up the night and Zac found himself drawn to them. As he followed the strange urge to go towards them, the smell of horses and manure reminded him of a time when he was training as a knight. If only life could be so simple that his worry was on beating other knights rather than saving a party from thieving killers.
He stepped through the stable doors and discovered a knife at is throat and an arrow at his chest before he could blink.
"Zac," he heard Beth screech and he saw Darcy at his neck and Brooks before him with a bow trained at his heart. His father stood in the shadows.
"Zacy?" Brooks started.
"You have all been safe in the stables!" Zac exclaimed, relief oozing out of him.
"Well, they were not planning on raiding the horses," Darcy replied. He looked behind Zac. "Where is Angelica?"
"Angelica's alive?!" Beth clutched a hand to her heart looking back and forth between the boys.
"I lost her," Zac replied.
"Lost her?!" Darcy roared. The shorter man looked furious as Beth squeaked, "My sister is alive?" incredulously as she stroked her throat absentmindedly.
"Men, is the king inside?" the duke walked into the light and separated the anxious siblings.
Zac gazed at the castle. If Richard's men wished to kill the Holdens how long would he hesitate before killing the king or Princess Fallyn?
"We have to get the king out," Zac started back to the castle as a series of scream erupted.
"We have to get my sister out," Darcy surges forward.
"Your father would not let them kill her?"
Darcy's petrified eyes said it all. Zac gulped. From what he knew of Roslin, the man seemed more bark than bite. But the mia's stories haunted him and he saw scars on Darcy's neck and arms that told stories. Roslin was not against harming his own children. And if he had Prosper...
Brooks put a hand on each of their shoulders. "We need a plan."
Zac stared at the castle. The ballroom had a flame licking at the wall and people in their best attire streamed out the front door. Two men twisted swords on the balcony and a woman stumbled out only to breathe her last.
Zac looked back at their small group. With Angelica, they had six against an unnumbered amount of gang members.
"If you have an idea, I am all ears," Darcy responded.
He only got empty stares.