Roland woke to muffled voices. Opening his eyes, he soaked in the sight of his room. The drapes and bed sheets were a deep burgundy color, everything else made of dark wood. Rubbing his eyes, he got up to change into a new shirt. After changing, he did a quick stretch and exited his room.
Upon seeing him, those of his house cheered in unison. “Good morning, Lord Roland!”
Roland allowed himself a small twitch of his lips, which amounted to a large smile in his case. He had missed that. “Good morning, everyone. Have any of my guests awoken yet?”
“They are in the dining room, eating,” an elderly woman replied as she walked up to him. Roland leaned down to her outstretched hands. The woman patted his cheek lovingly before wrapping him in a hug. “My, you’re all skin and bone. Let’s get you something to eat! Have they been treating you well?”
“Yes, Belinda,” Roland chuckled as she dragged him into the dining hall. “I am well taken care of. Now, if you don’t mind, I was hoping to speak with George.”
“So, that’s why you’re thin! Just as before, you never know when to eat if you’re not told. I doubt you’ve slept well recently either by the state of those tired eyes.” The woman plopped him into a chair at the head of the table. She proceeded to set for him a plate and prepare a drink. With one last pat on his shoulder, she told the king’s advisor what would happen during the morning. “Now you eat all that up, and I’ll fetch George. You can talk to him once you’re done.”
Roland wanted to retaliate, but Belinda had already left the room. He sulked momentarily, only to pick up his fork. On the other side of the table sat the fourteen outlaws, all with their jaws dropped at the sight of him being treated like a child. Remembering them, Roland cleared his throat. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Can it wait ‘till you’re done eatin’?” chuckled the redheaded comedian.
“I was hoping to tell you before you died, Martin,” Roland growled in return. He had a hard time accepting Martin’s sort. The man came from a cluster of villages in the mountain ranges to the west. All from that region found themselves funny and quick-witted. They were easily distinguishable by their weak jests and speech patterns. They were a lively bunch, to say the least. Their speech was high-pitched and their words shortened to an almost incomprehensible degree. Martin was no exception with his slang versions of words. Still, Roland was always taken aback by the rhythm within their speech. It was almost like a song, albeit an irritating and brash one.
“Sorry,” the redhead replied, bringing a piece of bread to his mouth before he could say anything else that might upset the advisor.
Between bites, Roland told them what he needed them to do. “I want to send supplies to the village of Krepthor, but neither my people nor I can be the ones to do so. If it became known that I aided them, my allegiance would be questioned. That is why I hoped you might deliver the supplies for me. The people must know of you by now. They trust you and will accept the supplies from your hands.”
“It is the least we could do to repay your hospitality,” Jasper replied.
“Good,” Roland beamed as he feasted on his breakfast. “There is one house in particular near the end of the main street, a couple about to have their first child. I want you to give them extra attention. They seem to need a lot of care.”
“I will do so,” Jasper nodded.
“Would you be able to go today? There are many injured. I fear for their lives should they be left without treatment for too long a time.”
“Yes, we can leave before midday.”
“Wonderful. I will speak with George and get a few carts of supplies ready for you. Feel free to return here once you are done. As you well know, my home is yours.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, I must be going.” Roland stood, his plate now cleaned and glass empty. “Good luck to you all!”
“Same to you,” Jasper raised his glass to the now empty side of the room. He shook his head as he sipped at his drink. “He never slows down, that one. I don’t even know how he can function with all he is doing, and yet he seems more capable than the rest of us.”
“He’s a wee bit freaky, ya ask me,” Martin chuckled. “But who cares? We got rooms now, lads!”
All others in the room cheered. It was indeed a joyous day!
Outside in the main lobby, Roland found George. He instructed him to load carts with food, clothing, blankets, and medical supplies. All of which were to be purchased with his personal funds. The order was carried out immediately. Satisfied that his requests would be taken care of, Roland set out in a quickened pace towards the palace on his trusty steed.
When he left, George turned to Belinda and asked of her. “Did you tell him of your financial troubles? Here he is helping people he does not know, has he not also helped you?”
“I didn’t want to worry him,” Belinda replied earnestly. “These are my troubles; I’ll deal with them.”
Meanwhile, Roland raced as quickly as he could back to the castle gates and reached his destination near dusk. Cadoc’s winter castle was made of gray stone. One of the main rivers that flowed through Remette encircled it. The constant flow of the water made its design far more dependent than a moat. There were only two entrances, one to the northwest and one to the southeast. Either way the fortress was approached, a drawbridge needed to be lowered to allow one to enter. This was how it had assumed the name, The Fortified City.
Scarlet flags of Remette flapped from the power of gusty winter winds as the guards opened the northern drawbridge for him. After entering, the advisor dismounted his horse in the castle’s courtyard. Roland did not make it far before he was pulled aside by Queen Zisca. When he saw the tears on her face, he already knew what had happened. Carter must never have made it to his room.
“He…he did it again!” She sniffled softly, wiping at her tears. “He!”
“I’ll tend to him,” Roland reassured her. “It’ll be alright. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to stop it.”
“You’re here now. I am the one who should be sorry,” the queen whimpered. “I’ve been here this whole time, and I cannot bring myself to dare do anything about it. So, thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” Roland replied as he walked away. “I’d let him rest today. You can see him tomorrow.”
“Of course.” The queen touched her nose with a handkerchief as she forced herself not to cry. With that, she departed. Roland went the opposite way to tend to the wellness of the prince.
First, he went to the prisons, but could not find the prince there. With a quickened pace, he made his way to Carter’s chambers. After stepping inside, the advisor’s stomach turned to lead. Blood stained the walls, floors, and papers within the prince’s study. Carter’s back was laced with cuts from the end of a whip, which lay bloodied beside him. Fighting the lump in his throat, Roland called out softly, “Carter?”
The figure gave no reply, remaining quiet as if dead. The advisor called louder as he closed the door behind him, “Sire?”
A loud snore replied to him, making Roland give a flicker of a smile. The advisor came to the prince’s aid, slowly lifting him from the floor. Amidst the struggle, the prince’s body slumped onto Sir Roland.
“Ugh,” Carter groaned as his peace was broken by the searing pain stretching across his back.
“I’m sorry, sire,” the advisor said softly. “I had tried to be gentle.”
Roland could feel excessive amounts of heat coming off of the prince, his body trying harshly to repair itself. Holding him carefully so he did not bring him additional pain, Roland moved Carter to the bed. Fetching some medical supplies from the prince’s study, the advisor began to treat the wounds which the king had inflicted.
Roland began by addressing the prince’s aggressive body heat. After fetching some cool water, he placed a damp cloth on Carter’s brow. Next, he dabbed at the prince’s back with another wet cloth to wipe away the dried blood.
Groaning as he fully awoke, Carter saw his friend at his bedside. After noticing that Roland was caring for him, Carter could think of only one thing to say. “I’m sorry, I failed you.”
“Nonsense,” Roland spat as he finished prepping the prince’s back for treatment.
Wincing at the stinging sensation he felt, Carter tried to make light of the situation. “No, you’re right. I did great. I made it all the way back to my room!”
“Carter,” Roland tutted as he applied a healing salve. The ointment making the prince’s wounds feel almost instantly, if only marginally, better. “You mustn’t think so lightly of these things. You should be thankful for the chill in the air this time of year. Had it been summer, these wounds would have borne a greater consequence.”
“I know,” sighed the prince in his despair. After letting out a sigh of his own, the advisor stood and poured a glass of spirits. Leaving it on the prince’s nightstand, he went to the door.
“Once you feel well enough, try to get that into you. It’ll numb the pain. I’m afraid this is all I can do for now,” the advisor told his prince in sadness. “I must report to your father. I will be back as soon as I can.”
“Go,” Carter tried to chuckle, “maybe at least one of us can make him happy.”
While Carter rested, Roland made his way to the king’s side. He worried it might have angered Cadoc for him to have attended to Carter first, but it mattered not.
Roland bowed as he entered the palace vault. The advisor knew of all places, Cadoc would be there. The king spent most of his time in the vault counting and recounting his riches. A deep growl came from inside when Roland was noticed. “Ah, Advisor! Tell me, how is my son?”
“He is quite well, my king,” Roland said, trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Did my actions worry you?” Cadoc asked. “Is that why you reported first to the prince and not your king?”
Roland had heard such questions before. Cadoc repeatedly brought up the fact that the advisor was more loyal to Carter than himself. Roland felt his answer could not show any regard for Carter but instead show that he was forced into such action. “I tell you truthfully; the queen approached me as I entered the castle courtyard. She beseeched me to attend to Carter in his chambers as I have done in the past. I simply did as was requested of me, so the queen would no longer appear so distraught.”
All was quiet for a moment as Cadoc took in the new information. He nodded in reply. “You’ve done well. That woman, she can never keep her wits about her. No doubt she had waited all day near the courtyard, making me look like a fool!”
“Of this, I cannot be certain.”
“I am,” the king replied in a stale tone. Changing the subject back to Roland’s endeavors he asked, “How went things in Morer?”
“Very well. The town seems to be in an orderly fashion.”
“As was to be expected.” Cadoc continued in his counting. The king mused to himself as he tallied coins and thoughts. As usual, Roland would not admit that it grieved him to see Carter in such a state. Still, the king knew Roland had been telling the truth about Zisca. He had seen her sobbing quietly in the courtyard earlier that same day. Simply looking from the corner of his eye, Cadoc could tell his advisor did not want to remain much longer in his presence. Perhaps a bit of distance would be best for the time being. “That will be all for now.”
“Of course, my liege.” Roland bowed as he left the room, traveling directly back to his prince’s side.
Carter had pulled a pillow under his chin as he sulked in his wounds. Too long, he had taken these beatings. He was growing tired of this eerie game the king made him play. It was one thing for his life to be tarnished by his father’s presence, but for his people to suffer also? To have witnessed that old man’s death felt unbearable! As he laid there, the prince decided that he could not wait any longer to act. As his advisor entered his chambers, he stated his plight.
“Roland,” Carter’s tone was icy, “I will stand it no longer. We must get rid of him. We must do it now!”
The advisor quickly shut the door and locked it behind him. “You’re angry. I understand, but you must be more careful with your actions!”
“Then tell me how to do it carefully, Advisor.”
“Carter,” Roland said in a quiet voice, “there are many things to take into consideration with something like this!”
The prince looked at him solemnly. “I have taken many things into consideration. Those people in that town who are suffering, for example.”
“I have already attended to them.”
“They are not the only ones!” Carter spat. Looking Roland in the eyes, he pleaded. “There must be a way.”
“It would be risky, sire.”
“I’ll take the risk. Tell me how!”
The prince gave his advisor a moment, Roland remaining quiet for quite some time. His hand rummaged back and forth over his hair until, at long last, the advisor let out a sigh. “You must be patient. This castle is a fortress, as was its design. For this to work, the king must be in his summer palace to the east. It is larger than this one. His guards would be more spread out and easier to manage.”
“But we could get him alone here just as well.”
“He will expect such a move on your part, Carter. Any such action will likely lead to our deaths. Your father is a corrupt man. He lives each day looking for enemies. The one he focuses on most being you. For you to have any chance at success, you need to find him a new enemy to focus on. Someone he cannot trust.”
“He doesn’t trust anybody,” Carter exclaimed in exasperation.
“No, but to make him hate that person more than he does you, that is the trick.” Roland paused for a minute. “Now, not only will you need a distraction; you need a strategy. Before any action can be taken, all portions of the attack need to be thought out to the minutest detail. It is not only our lives we will be sacrificing, should we fail-”
“But those we love,” Carter interrupted as he thought of his mother.
“It is hard to make such a huge change happen on your own,” the advisor said as he approached the prince’s bed. “It would be much easier if we had others within the palace to help us, but they are all loyal to the king. Perhaps if we could scrounge enough money to pay some of them off, they would aid us. Even then, the king would notice a depletion of his funds.”
Roland laughed a bit to himself. “Perhaps Jasper’s idea isn’t so far-fetched after all.”
“Jasper’s idea?” Carter asked.
“I didn’t have a chance to tell you,” Roland replied. “I met with Jasper in Morer. He was going to cross into Poniere and attack a group of wealthy nobles that have gathered near Luxborne.”
“Luxborne,” Carter muttered to himself. He couldn’t help but wonder if he might be able to speed up the timetables of the operation, but Roland was always one to plan. He had to review the details thoroughly to ensure that nothing went wrong. The advisor had already put his timetable to mind. Should the prince have other plans, he would have to do so by himself. “There’s a town we could do without.”
“Come now,” Roland laughed. “It is one of our greatest trade centers!”
“Those Luxbornes think they are the best people on the planet.”
“I would have to rank them pretty high myself,” the advisor replied. “They are very prosperous.”
“Sure,” Carter scoffed, plopping his head onto his pillow. “If you ask me; I think you only approve of the one.”
“May I offer you some advice, sire,” Roland grinned mischievously as he loomed over the prince’s bed.
“Do you think I too should swoon over the lovely Lady of Luxborne? I’d love to, but I wouldn’t want to step on your toes, old friend.”
“Actually, I was going to advise you not to jive at your caretaker when he has yet to finish treating your wounds.”
Carter gave a gulp as he said simply, “Oh.”
Roland smiled, tugging at a piece of bandaging between his hands. “I wonder how tight you can wrap these before they break?”
“I take it back!” Carter screeched.
“No need,” chuckled the advisor. “It is no secret that Fae is a remarkable woman, but to say I swoon over her? I doubt that.”
“True,” Carter nodded. “You don’t really swoon over anyone.”
“Do you think you can stand?” Roland sighed. “It will help me wrap up these wounds.”
Carter stood with a grimace. As the advisor set to work, the prince chugged down the alcohol that had been provided to him. “Why is it that you do not swoon?”
“Why is it that you have grown to enjoy that word so much?”
“What?” chuckled Carter as he leaned against his bedpost. “You have women flocking over you, yet you don’t pay them any actual attention.”
“Some would say I give them attention,” grumbled the advisor.
“Not real attention. Name one woman you have courted,” the prince smiled, only to find his advisor glaring at him. “Why not court Lady Luxborne? I’m sure she would accept; you being the king’s right hand and all.”
Roland huffed in irritation as he finished his work. “I pay women as much attention as I deem them worthy of, sire. Should I find a woman that I feel is worthy, I will gladly court her. I doubt I will meet such a woman any time soon.”
As he was moved back into his bed, Carter sighed. “At least you get to choose your wife.”
Roland hung his head a little. “Yes, I suppose that is a blessing.”
Placing the pillow under his chin, Carter said quietly, “I’m actually quite tired now. Would you mind?”
“Not at all, sire,” the advisor said as he made his way to the door. “Sleep well! I told your mother it would be best to wait to visit until tomorrow, so you will have no further distractions.”
“Thank you, Roland,” Carter said as he closed his eyes. The advisor shut his door gently. After he was in the safety of the hallway, Roland scratched his head nervously. How foolish for him to complain about finding a wife in front of Carter! As if the prince wasn’t in enough pain!
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