Curse of the Crimson Queen

Chapter 8. Danse Macabre

Vardille walked down the street. The Crownguard on the bench spotted him, she followed his steps along with her gaze. When the man got closer, the woman finally recognised him, and she sprang to her feet.

'Captain!'

Jelyn flew into his captain's arms. Their hug was tight, strong, but quick. Jelyn stepped away, her face was shining with relief and joy.

'It's good to see you, Jelyn.'

'It's fucking good to see you, Captain!' Jelyn exclaimed, then blushed immediately. 'Pardon me for my language.'

Vardille laughed wholeheartedly. 'You're excused.'

Jelyn lowered her voice. 'And the King?'

'Can we talk somewhere?'

Jelyn, second captain of the Crownguard, nodded and turned around to lead Vardille inside the house.

Before stepping through the threshold, Vardille took a glance back to the square. He watched helplessly as a tall, auburn haired woman in plain clothes stormed across the square heading to the gate, a sheathed sword in hand.

Had there been enough time for self-reflection, he would have tried to examine what he felt. Lacking that, he could only swallow as the storm of clinging feelings gripped his soul.

The Pebbles household looked compact, tidy, cozy. The main room he got into apparently functioned as a hall, living room, and kitchen. Shelves were stuffed with spices and vegetables, the long wooden table against the opposite wall were settling under the many pots, bowls, and dishes. Above the firepit in the middle, fish was frying on skewers. Hides covered the floor, small stools were standing scattered across the room. It did not look like a household that had been abandoned a day before.

Jelyn kicked her boots off and pulled a stool closer for Vardille. She dropped down on the hides, legs crossed, when two Crownguard stepped into the room from a side opening, covered by thick curtains.

'Captain!'

Vardille bowed his head. Analyn and Gradhe, both extremely smart and reliable Crownguard. The captain waited a moment longer before mumbling, 'Is this... Are you... Where are the others?'

Jelyn shook her head slowly.

'Marcya, Unghar, Pilla, and Dyan are lost. We presumed them dead. Tried to look for them, but our efforts were in vain. The others died inside the mountain.'

Vardille nodded again in acknowledgement. The nature of his profession demanded not to be friends with his subordinates, but each name evoked pain in his chest. He knew each and every Crownguard of the Royal Castle. It felt like losing family members.

Don't fool yourself. It's much worse than that.

He cleared his throat. 'King Bryne is alive. He is unconscious, has been since that dreadful night.'

'Where's he?'

'In good hands,' he said, hoping his voice remained calm and smooth. 'We managed to find a Velardhari band not so far from—'

'A what?' Analyn hissed. 'Captain, you left the king at the mercy of Velardhari dogs?'

'Listen to me,' Vardille lifted his hand. 'They are forthright people. We have no reason to think they are here on the rebels' bidding.'

'I don't give a—' Analyn started, fists clenched, but Jelyn interrupted.

'Do they... know it's Bryne?'

'No.' Vardille only started to feel guilty when Jelyn's face also displayed faint traces of discontent. He had expected the rebuke from Analyn, her being from Northern Andoriel meant she had faced with the Velardhari many times before she came to Amrith. 'I'm not a fool. I tried to cover as much of our stories as I could. But they are not fools either.'