shook her head at him. “Law? By
what law is an innocent man judged
guilty of treason?”
“Innocent man? Malcolm swore an
oath of fealty that he had no intention
of keeping. Men have been hung for
less.”
Jaisyn held up her hands and Vulcan
stared at them in shock. Was she
silencing him? Before he could reply,
she fired off questions. “Why does he
lay ill from wounds to both arms and a
fever contracted from infection? Was
there a fight? How did you find him,
Vulcan?” A shocked gasp escaped her
lips as another thought entered her
mind. “And where is Tarbin?”
Vulcan moved away from her.
“Tarbin has returned to Mitherie.”
She nodded but continued. “And
what of Malcolm? Why does he lie ill
as we speak?”
“Because he has tasted the steel of
my blade, wife!”
A range of emotions flickered over
her face and she closed her eyes.
When next she opened them, a
stranger stared back at him, an angry
stranger but a stranger nonetheless.
“Why give a traitor the honor of
fighting a king?” she snapped, golden
eyes turning cold in her face. “Why
not treat him according to your laws?
Why did you fight Malcolm, Vulcan?”
Staring at his queen, as she faced
him boldly and demanded answers,
Vulcan found himself at a true loss.
He did not wish to tell her he’d fought
Malcolm with the intention of injuring
him, that he’d left him without
medical attention for hours after that,
that he’d wanted the man to suffer, as
he had suffered when he’d believed
she’d taken Malcolm for her lover.
Jaisyn had said that she loved him.
Would she still love him when she
found out how little he’d trusted her?
“You
wanted
revenge,”
she
suddenly said, pulling him from his
thoughts as his gaze settled on her.
She stared at him, disappointment
clouding the anger that had previously
been there. He could see her
withdrawal from him as clearly as if
she had begun to move away. “Even
after I swore to you,
on my Goddess
,
that there was nothing between myself
and Malcolm, after I was taken
against my will and carted to Sulan,
you couldn’t trust me.”
Vulcan ran a hand through his hair
and contemplated lying. Moments
passed before he replied. “My
conclusions were not completely
unfounded. A spy witnessed him
entering your bedchambers in Sulan.”
“Where we discussed how he was
to free Isolde, not knowing that
Varian had already done so.”
“I judged you harshly and for that,”
he paused and allowed foreign words
to fall from his lips. “I am sorry.”
Jaisyn shook her head. “You should
apologize to Malcolm as well. He’s
the one who lies near death from your
hand.”
“Jaisyn, regardless of what Malcolm
did or did not do with you, he is still
guilty of treason.”
“Release him, Vulcan. If he lives…
release him from his oath and send
him to Mitherie. You have already
punished him enough for reneging, if
indeed he did, on his troth.”
“No. Malcolm chose his fate a long
time ago when he left for Mitherie. He
has been a marked a traitor ever since
and to release him would only
encourage those who would betray
me.”
Her golden eyes pinned him for a
span of seconds that seemed to last an
eternity. She drew in a deep breath
and said coldly, “You will do as you
wish,
liege
. I will pray the Goddess is
more merciful and takes him as the
fever rages within.” With that, she
turned and stalked from the tent.
He stared after her, shaking his head
and rubbing his chin. He could not
release Malcolm, not even for his
wife. Like his father before him, he
maintained his rule over kingdoms
because they feared the Wolf of the
North. If he released Malcolm, a
known traitor, there would be a
backlash. Montak, with Bael as its
king, might rebel, thinking that Vulcan
was growing soft. A few Lytherian
soldiers might want to follow in
Malcolm’s footsteps and flee to other
kingdoms. It would begin small, with
little things, and would end up toppling
his empire, the empire he was creating
for his heirs.
No! He looked around the empty
tent before sitting on the hard pallet.
Jaisyn would eventually understand.
Malcolm would not die for his
pleasure; in truth he no longer had
reason to wish the man dead. He
would die to ensure that their rule
continued,
that
succession
was
smooth. He thought of the baby in
Jaisyn’s belly, who, if male, would
stand to inherit all of the kingdoms he
ruled, and his fist clenched at his side.
Yes, his wife would eventually come
to understand.
***
They had arrived at St. Ives Castle
but what should have been a joyous
return was most depressing for Jaisyn.
Malcolm’s fever had broken the day
after she’d pleaded with Vulcan to
release him, and he had been half-
awake for the bumpy journey back to
the city. They’d had been back at the
castle for two days now, and Jaisyn
had visited him in the dungeon
regularly to make sure that he wasn’t
being ill-treated. Surprisingly, or
perhaps not so surprisingly, he was
being treated well. The men who
guarded and fed him were Lytherian
and as such, had served under him or
trained with him in the past. Malcolm
was a respected warrior. A healer still
visited him to change the dressing on
his wounds and to give him herbal
mixtures for the pain. When she was
not visiting Malcolm, she was arguing
with her husband, who refused to
even consider that Malcolm was not
forsworn.
Her
arguments
were
countered with his, and when he’d
had enough of her, she was dismissed.
Jaisyn had just eaten her midday
meal, without her husband’s company
as he, his brother and a few of his
warriors had gone hunting, and was
on the stone staircase that led to the
dungeon when she noticed that ahead
of her were the Lytherian justices. She
walked faster and was behind them as
they entered the small, brick-laid cell
in which Malcolm was kept.
***
He had been lying on the pallet
pushed against the corner of the dim
room, both arms at his sides, when he
heard the groan of the door as it
opened. Malcolm looked up and saw
the three men dressed in black
garments with the Lytherian seal on
one side of cloth and the scales on the
other. The King’s Justices. Of course
they would have to sentence him.
Petty crimes were handled by the City
Magistrate, but this, treason as he was
accused,
this
warranted
higher
ranking officials. They stepped into his
cell, making way for the queen, who
entered behind them. Jaisyn wore a
peach gown he’d seen her wear
before, when she’d been only a
princess and he’d had hopes of
claiming her for himself. She stared at
the men, her eyes cool, her eyebrows
slightly raised, but they had eyes only
for him.
“Malcolm Sudbury,” began the man
in the middle, reading from a small
black book that he held in his hands.
Malcolm turned to him, and pushed
himself up slowly, ignoring the pain in
his arm.
“Yes?” Malcolm replied, knowing
that protocol dictated that he reply as
such.
“You are charged with treason
against your king and country,” the
one to the left continued. Malcolm
remained silent. The justice on the
right added, “You swore an oath to
Vulcan of Morden, which broken, is
punishable by death. You broke the
other when you left Lytheria and fled
to Mitherie.”
“You have also sworn fealty to the
prince of Mitherie,” the middle justice
was speaking once more. Malcolm
shook his head at that. “I have not,
Lord Justice.” It was the truth. Tarbin
had never asked for his fealty, and he
had not given it.
The man spared him a cool glance
before ignoring his comment and
continuing. “The punishment for
treason is death. The King has been
merciful and instead of the death
reserved for a traitor, your death will
be quick. Your head will be severed
from your body and you will be given
to your family for proper burial. May
the Goddess have mercy upon your
soul.” He closed the book with a snap.
“When? When am I to die?”
Malcolm heard his voice. It sounded
calm, even to his ears. He felt the
blood in his veins run cold and stifled
the urge to shiver. He had known that
Vulcan would not relent, however
much his wife pleaded. But to be
made aware of one’s death prior to it
still sent fear running down one’s
spine.
There was a rustling sound as the
Justice on the right moved backward a
step. “Three days hence at dawn’s
first light.”
“The High Priestess will be notified
and will come to you before you are
taken by the guards. May merciful
Lyria be with you.” This came from
the Justice on the left. They all turned
as one unit, which for all purposes
they were, and bowed deeply to the
queen before exiting the cell.
Jaisyn moved aside, and looked
down at Malcolm. She was surprised
to find him smiling up at her.
“Your dress is beautiful, Majesty,”
he complimented her.
Jaisyn came further into the cell,
until she stood directly before him.
She stepped to the side, smoothed
down the back of her dress, and sat
on the pallet, next to him. “I
remember your maids were not happy
when you decided to join in a game of
mud sliding wearing either that gown
or one very similar to it.”
She
smiled
curiously,
perhaps
wondering how he could think such
things when he was to die soon. It was
easy. Malcolm had accepted that he
would die. Now, he wanted only to sit
and reminisce with his oldest friend.
“Malcolm, I will speak to Vulcan
again when he returns. You are
innocent of treason and I cannot
believe my husband capable of killing
an innocent man.”
He nodded and sobered slightly. “I
am glad that you know that I am
innocent.” A smile broke out across
his lips once more, “Word has it that
you are carrying the heir to both
Morden and Lytheria?”
Blushing, Jaisyn nodded and a soft
smile briefly touched her lips.
“I thought you weren’t going to do
anything so feminine, Majesty?” he
joked, remembering a young teenage
girl who’d cringed at the thought of
babies. When he’d had the misfortune
of mentioning that she would someday
have to have one, Jaisyn had almost
strangled him.
As a brow lifted, Jaisyn shrugged
her
shoulders.
“I
guess
things
change.”
“They certainly do, Majesty,” was
his reply. Jaisyn sighed and stood,
swatting his hands lightly as he tried to
assist
her.
“You’ll
open
your
stitches.”
When she was upright, she looked
down at him with sad eyes. “Is there
anything you want?”
He slowly leaned back, allowing his
head to touch the pallet. His eyes
followed her. “No. I am quite
content.”
Jaisyn nodded and made her way
over to the opened door. A guard
stood beside it, looking grim.