Chapter 14

Cruit Symington had spent the preceding days trying to figure a way out of his predicament. None came to him. He had committed treason against the Crown. There was no justifying his actions.

His failure would cost his family dearly. His brother's life was forfeit. His father and mother might be executed. His younger siblings could be killed. There was no way out for him.

"Symington," the jailer boomed. "You have visitors."

Visitors? Symington wondered if his parents had come to his aid. He doubted they would. He knew his brother was at his mother's estate in Domita.

He cringed when he saw Jorgarn and Sir Torbert standing in front of his cell. Both carried a look of raw anger on his face.

"Know this, Symington," Torbert said. "You live only because we have found a use for you. If you cease being useful, you will die – Longview style. Want to fill him in on how you kill traitors in Longview, Jorgarn?"

The feral smile that creased Jorgarn's face sent chills to Symington's toes.

"He is less than a woman but I suppose we could use that method," Jorgarn sneered. "In Longview, men are tied to four horses which are then sent in different directions. It's called quartering. I understand it is highly painful and it takes a while to die after your limbs are ripped from your body. Some men have lived for a week afterward because we cauterize the wound to staunch the bleeding. The remains are buried at five points on the compass. Our priests believe it ensures the man will wander the afterlife in torment."

Symington gulped noticeably.

"That is actually the most humane death we offer traitors," Jorgarn continued without pause. "Women are dealt with even more harshly. Generally, we allow them to be used for sexual gratification for several weeks – usually until they are almost comatose. Men, women, dogs, horses. They are used by almost everything. We simply tie them naked in the courtyard and let whoever wants them to have them. Just before they lose consciousness for the last time, we revive them. Then we shove a red-hot poker up their rears and sear their bowels closed. Death from internal infection usually takes another five or six days of excruciating pain."

He sighed wistfully.

"I am really looking forward to seeing Master Symington down on all fours trying to accommodate a stallion," Jorgarn said brightly. "I think I'll bring all the Emertland Guard and their women to watch. We can make a week-long party of it. Perhaps we can use it for entertainment the week before the Princess' ascension. I can keep him alive that long. I'm sure of it."

"You, you can't do that," Symington stammered. Jorgarn stepped forward lightly and drove his fist into the young man's stomach. Symington doubled over and retched on the floor.

"You are in no position to tell me what I can and cannot do," Jorgarn said flatly. "You have plotted the kidnapping not only of the Heiress to the Crown of Emertland but a member of the sovereign house of a foreign nation, my stepmother. You have sought to harm not one, but two women I am sworn to protect. I will do to you whatever I wish to do. If I cannot do it here, I will drag you to Longview where I will do it there. If I cannot do it either place legally, I will do it without sanction and accept whatever punishment is required. The only man who can stop me is His Royal Highness, King Landor. You had better come to that realization quickly and firmly. Now, on your feet."

Fieth and Renoit dragged a sputtering Symington to stand. Torbert dumped a pitcher of water over the young man's head in a vain attempt to alleviate the stench.

Symington, with his arms gripped tightly by Fieth and Renoit and with Pernice and Jorgarn's sword points in his kidneys, followed Torbert down the long dimly lit hallway and up the stone stairs to the main chamber. King Torbert sat regally on his throne in flowing finery and his crown perched firmly on his head.

Fieth and Renoit moved Symington to a spot before the King. Jorgarn hit Symington with the blunt edge of his sword behind the knees.

"Bow before your King and Master," Jorgarn spat. There was no play-acting on his part. Left to his own devices he would cut Symington into pieces one inch at a time.

"<Calm, >" Jorgarn heard in his head. "<Once Father has what he needs, I'm sure you will be allowed to deliver the punishment.>"

The King watched as Jorgarn closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stepped back.

"Cruit Symington, you have committed an act of treachery against the Crown of Emertland," King Landor boomed. "You have entered into a conspiracy to kidnap the Heiress to the Crown and to compel a marriage to a foreign noble. You have entered into a conspiracy to kidnap a member of the ruling family of a sovereign nation and compel marriage to an Emertland aristocrat. You have conspired to create a state of war between Longview and Emertland. The sentence for your crimes is death."

Landor's voice lowered.

"The manner of your death is entirely up to you," the King said. "You have moved to harm two members of my household. You sought to take my daughter from her rightful home and you sought to deliver my niece to your wretched brother. It is only with the greatest of reluctance that I have kept Jorgarn from action. If you answer our questions truthfully and provide information we find useful, your death will be quick. If you lie to us or you can give us nothing we don't already know..."

The King's impressive gaze bore into Symington.

"Then I will let Jorgarn decide the manner of your passing," he finished. "Not just for you and your brother but for your siblings and your parents, as well. Do we understand one another?"

Symington understood only too well. But the King did not give him the opportunity to consider a reply.

"Are your parents involved?" he asked.

"I don't know, Your Majesty," Symington said quickly. "But I cannot see how Comar could have planned this without their knowledge."

The King nodded but his eyes narrowed.

"Does Lord Longview know of this?" he asked.

Symington seemed surprised at the question.

"No, Your Majesty," he said. "Pietro said the Lord is a fool who wouldn't even see his death coming."

He paused for a moment.

"But Pietro also said Jorgarn was not as good a warrior as he pictured himself to be," Symington continued. "I am beginning to understand that Pietro's version of reality is somewhat askew. The answer is no, Your Majesty. For this to transpire, Lord Longview would have to be dead."

"List the people involved," the King said.

"Pietro, Comar and me," Symington answered. "Those are the ones I'm sure of. My father and mother I would suppose. Pietro is supposed to have men working for him in Longview. I would assume my parents have several retainers here."

"Explain the plan as you know it," the King commanded.

Symington recounted the various incarnations of the plot. Most of it had already been fleshed out but there was one piece of information that was new. Comar Symington planned to remain at his mother's estate until after the ascension ceremony. He planned to reside in Domita until the present Lord Symington retired at which time he would produce Eslada – or her child – as claimant to the crown. Cruit Symington would assume the Lordship. Of course, by that time, Pietro would already be Lord Longview and Denae would be Lady Longview.

The King glanced at Torbert, who nodded.

"You have earned yourself a swift death," the King announced. "Now I will give you the opportunity to earn your family a swift death, if they cooperate. You will compose a letter to your brother in Domita. You will tell him that all is going as planned and that you have been appointed to the protection detail. You will tell him that the Princess is excited about a trip to her mother's homeland and plans to make it her first trip after her ascension – if details can be worked out. You will include any phrases or information your brother will expect."

Symington nodded sadly.

"Cruit," the King continued. "Your execution will not come until after we have captured everyone else involved. If you have lied to me, our agreement is void."

Again, Symington nodded.

"Now I will give you the chance to save the lives of your younger siblings," the King said. "Jorgarn requires you to write a second letter to your brother. You are to leave it undated. We will provide that information. You will alert him that Lady Eslada is in residence in Emertland and not in Longview. You will ask him how he wishes to proceed. Is that clear?"

"I agree, Your Majesty," Symington said through his tears. Torbert slapped several pieces of parchment onto a table and jerked Symington to his feet.

"Write," he ordered.

Symington obeyed without a word.

Denae was waiting for Jorgarn when he arrived on the main level after returning Symington to the dungeon. There was no effort of propriety on her part. She simply wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head on his shoulder.

She had felt his rage through their connection. She had experienced the pain that lanced through him whenever he considered her being forced to marry Pietro.

"I'm sorry I was angry with you earlier," she said.

Jorgarn didn't know what to do. He wanted to put his arms around Denae but he knew that was inappropriate. To even consider it was inappropriate. Instead, he stood stiffly and accepted her embrace without returning it.

There were tears on the Princess' cheeks when she pulled back from him.

"Today, I felt closer to you when we were using our connection than I did just now," she said sadly. "Why can't we act like we did then all the time? Why do you have to be so formal and remote whenever you see me?"

"You're the Princess," Jorgarn explained weakly. He knew it wasn't a good answer but it was the only answer he had.

"I was the Princess this afternoon, too," she replied.

Jorgarn lowered his head. To him, this afternoon she was simply a voice in his head. He hadn't even been certain it wasn't his tiredness catching up to him. That, too, didn't seem like an appropriate answer.

"I don't know," he said instead. "You have to understand, Princess, that seven weeks ago I was a boy whose only goal was to avoid being a priest. My prospects included becoming a sailor, a soldier or maybe even a thief. Now, in just seven weeks, I am a man faced with the option of dedicating his life to protecting someone he knows only a little about, someone who undoubtedly wouldn't even have spoken to him seven weeks before."

"I would have!" Denae said angrily. "You said something to Rayna when you first met her. You said to view you as you are not as she expects you to be. Do the same thing, Jorgarn. Look at me as Denae, a girl who soon will be a woman, a woman who was accidentally born into a position. You expect others to see you not as a blood-thirsty warrior or the second son of Lord Longview but as Jorgarn. Well, I expect you to view me not the daughter of a king and a future monarch but as Denae. I know you can separate the two. I have seen enough of your thoughts to understand that. I know just now you wanted to hug me. I know you thought you should hug me. But you didn't because of who my father is. You wanted to hug Denae but you stopped because she is the Princess."

"I know," Jorgarn admitted.

"You are doing the same thing with Knighthood," Denae railed. "You fixate on the few reasons you shouldn't do it instead of the multitude of reasons you should. Eslada told us about your misgivings. You're wrong about those. I am no more prepared to be Queen than you are to be Knight. In fact, if Creation forbid, something happened to my father, I would ask Torbert to rule as steward for at least three more years and probably longer. We grow into this together. You serve beside Sir Torbert just as I serve beside my father. We come into it together and we learn together. We succeed together and we fail together. You are not supposed to have all the answers right now. You're not even supposed to know all the questions right now. Can you understand that?"