Chapter Twenty-Two Part One

“Thomas?” Julien examined his healthy hand casually. “What of him?”

“Clearly it has not escaped your notice that he is ever at Charlotte’s side.”

“Should he not be? They have been friends since childhood, by both their words.”

“Julien.” Walter spoke as if to imply the Prince must be deceiving himself. “Tell me, as a man, that you do not recognize when another man is in love with a woman. Just as I already knew you were in love with Charlotte, I have known for many years that Thomas was in love with her, too.”

“Yet he never acted upon his feelings. Never told her, or if he did, things did not turn out as he wished. Otherwise…” Julien stopped, not wishing to give the secret of his embrace with Charlotte away to her father, of all people.

“Otherwise?”

“Let me just say Charlotte has never spoken to me of any interest in becoming the blacksmith’s wife.”

“You two had occasion to discuss such things?”

“We had occasion to discuss many things,” Julien replied. “She nursed me for hours that felt days and days that felt years, Walter. We spoke often. We spoke of your love for your wife and hers for you. We discussed the love my parents shared—though their marriage had been arranged, in time they came to be closest companions. I don’t think my father could have loved any woman more.” Julien bowed his head. “God rest his soul.”

“God rest his soul,” Walter repeated, reaching out and patting Julien on the shoulder. “He was a noble ruler, and he will be long remembered for his goodness to his people.”

“May it be,” Julien whispered.

“Back to the subject at hand,” Walter said, squinting at Julien. “My daughter believes you are meant to marry another woman. Do you think she would allow herself to have feelings for you, knowing this?”

“Sometimes the heart speaks truths the tongue cannot. I do believe I have a reasonable chance that if I ask your daughter to marry me, she will agree.”

“She has led you to believe this?”

Again not wishing to compromise Charlotte’s confidence, the Prince paused before speaking. “I have my hopes, sir.”

“And what if Thomas should challenge you for her?”

“I will not fight Thomas for her, the man saved my life for God’s sake,” Julien replied. “But the decision should be left to Charlotte herself. If she declares her heart belongs to him, I will wish them well, and go my way to let them live their lives without impediment. What is more, I will follow through on all promises I have made to Thomas and Charlotte of things I want to do to show my gratitude to them after I am returned to my rightful place. They will have wealth, land, prosperity, all that any young couple starting out could ask for.”

“And what if she chooses you over Thomas? What will he have then?” Walter asked, saddened at the thought of the lad he loved so dearly being heartbroken.

“He will have everything I can provide as he makes a fresh start in life,” Julien replied. “He will have all I can give, save Charlotte; for if she chooses me, sir, I cannot be expected to deny our happiness.”

“I pray all will be right,” Walter fretted. “I pray you will be returned to your rightful place, and all will turn out well in the end.”

“The time is quickly approaching when we will see. Still, you have not answered my question about Charlotte’s hand.”

“I know,” Walter said, sinking back farther into his chair, closing his eyes, and saying nothing more.

* * *

“Are you the robbers who killed the King?” Charlotte asked, taking her own sword out of its sheath now and backing her horse up a few steps. Thomas sat there, mouth hanging open, stunned by her audacity.

“You insult me, My Lady,” the man replied, as the others around him began to murmur. “Have you not seen the image on the wanted posters here and yon? Do I look anything like the unfortunate bastard on those signs?”

He grabbed a torch and held it first up near his face, then thrust it toward Charlotte’s. She didn’t flinch, simply kept her sword held high, as he leaned closer to her and two of his companions advanced on Thomas. Renee just sat there on her horse, whimpering softly.

Completely unhelpful, thought Charlotte.

“I thought there must be a reason your friends here hadn’t turned you in for the bounty The Crown is offering,” Charlotte continued, her eyes never leaving the man’s.

“The Duke can keep his filthy money,” one man said, speaking from the back of the pack.

“I’d take it, right enough! If any of us had anything to do with the murder of the King, I’d turn him in myself!” Another chortled, stepping forward. This man was short and round, and moved toward Charlotte now. “Truth is, My Lady, none of us had anything to do with that bloody business, and our business is certainly no better because of it. No one has anything left to steal anymore. The greatest robber in the land is Duke Frederick!”

“Amen to that,” Thomas said softly, as he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, watched Charlotte, and waited for an opportunity to act without getting himself, and all of them, killed.

“Not fond of the Duke either, are you?” Charlotte observed. She had to take a chance, the time was now or never. “What if I told you we are on a mission for the Queen, and if you assist us in this, you can not only have three of the four horses we have with us now but a bounty from the Queen herself?”

Laughter rose up from the crowd as they closed in on the riding party. Renee started to sob, and Charlotte shot her a warning glance. She had to hold her composure or things could go downhill quickly.

“And what kind of mission would that be?” the man in charge asked.

“To restore the Heir to the Throne to His rightful place as ruler of our kingdom.”

Silence enveloped the group, then whispers and murmurs rose again. The man in charge raised his hand for his companions to be silent.

“Prince Tristan died along with his father. Everyone knows that. They buried him with great ceremony and song.”

“What if I told you that it was not the Prince they buried at all, but another in his place?”

“Charlotte!” Thomas gasped, unable to stop himself.

“We have no choice now, Thomas, we must seek help wherever we can find it, even if it is only for hire. I have a feeling the Duke will not be far behind now.”

“You have come from the palace,” the man in charge said to Charlotte, running his hand over his beard thoughtfully. “The horses tell that tale, as do your costumes. I call them that because they do not fit properly as rightful clothing would.”

“You are wise,” Charlotte acknowledged. “We were sent on this mission to prove to the Queen that her son survived, only barely, the attack meant to end his life. Just tell me this, good sir—if you are not the one responsible for the death of the King, and none of your comrades in arms will accept responsibility for the murder either, do you know who the guilty party is?”

“My Lady, if I knew that, then I would be holding the bags of gold offered as reward for the price upon his head.”

Charlotte leaned closer to the man who stood so tall beside her horse she barely had to move to reach his ear. “I know who it is.”

The man’s eyes flashed rage, and Charlotte went on. “Would you care to collect that bounty, after all? By assisting in the capture of the man responsible for the death of the King and attempted murder of the Prince, and thereby earning your money for once in your life?”

“Would be easier to kill you all and take the horses,” the man snarled, turning away. Charlotte knew, though, he was considering.

“Perhaps. But I warn you if any harm comes to us, the Prince will not stop until he finds and executes the responsible party. So wouldn’t you rather be on the right side of a fight this time, instead of making a mistake here tonight that will end up meaning you swing from the gallows?”

“She makes a good argument,” the short, round man said to his leader, and the leader growled.

“I hate complications!” He stomped back over to Charlotte. “And you are most certainly that. A complication. Easily dispatched. And remains burned, never to be found!”

A shiver ran through Charlotte. She glanced quickly over at Thomas, who was now being restrained by four men; one holding each of his limbs. She had no doubt they were capable of such treachery; but she believed they were also capable of great greed. She hoped it was the greed that would save them all in the end.

“What if I told you who murdered the King? Would you ride with us, then, back to the location of the Prince, and help us to confront the villain on our own terms? On our own land, where we will have him at a decided disadvantage?”

“Depends upon who the villain is,” the man replied.

“The villain here is none other than Duke Frederick.”

“I KNEW it!” the leader exclaimed, exchanging glances with the short, round man. “I knew this was the truth of the matter. We just had to be certain this riding party sent from the castle was acting on behalf of the Queen, and not against her.”

“I do not understand…” Charlotte glanced at Thomas and saw that the men were suddenly letting him go and helping him to stand upright once again. They returned him to his horse.

“You see, My Lady Charlotte, if that is your real name,” the man said, with a look that warned her she’d better be truthful. She nodded. “You happen to be riding my horse.”