Read Sorcerous Century :: Baron Kilhaven is Dead, part 4

The Dauphin’s hands wrung the curtain folds tighter, making them appear like a rope fit for a noose. Speaking to himself as he strained to see through his clouding breath upon the window panes, he murmured, “It’s been so long... Who will come riding through my gates? Will it be Cousin Edouard, victorious? Or that Ancel Kilhaven, stealing crown, life, and land with his magic...?”

The elder nurse cajoled, “Do not doubt Duke Montmercy, your Majesty. He’s a greater Contra’Vagus than even his famed father before him. He will not fail to preserve the Kingdom, I’m sure of it!”

Although the fair-faced Constance was sworn to think only of the Dauphin, she betrayed a romantic sort of confidence as she reassured, “The First Sword of Duna’Liet can never be bested – even by one so evil and treacherous as Baron Kilhaven.”

Lady Gertrude affirmed, “The Contra’Vagus will cleanse the nation of sordid sorceries!”

Demetrius snorted softly. As much as he adored Cousin Edouard and worshiped his skill with the blade, Demetrius had read enough histories to learn about hubris and irony.

“They are right, Demetrius! Hope shines brightly this morning,” rang the confident voice of his Regent from the nearest entrance to the royal bedchamber.

At once, the Dauphin hurried out of the curtains to approach his trusted guide. “Regent Konstantine! Have you heard from Edouard?”

“No, but he comes swiftly with his Corps d’Noir Elites. He should arrive soon.”

“That’s wonderful!” Then the Dauphin’s ecstatic expression fell. “Or truly terrible. Which is it?”

The Regent said evenly, “We will know by the manner of their return.”

Demetrius peered back at the wide, exposing windows, “Is he hurrying because he’s learned of a threat here that’s greater than out there?”

“The Royal Guard is still on full alert. They will protect you from any mortal threat present. Now. Put your shoulders back, chin up, and we shall proceed together to Petitioner’s Court.

A freezing chill ran right back up the Dauphin’s neck. Uncharacteristically, the Dauphin pulled away from his senior companion. “I don’t want to.”

After a quick, evaluating look, the Regent gave him one of his trademark penetrating gazes that compelled everyone to pay close heed. “Every member of the Court looks to you, judging whether or not to start praying.”

“Then I can’t – I can’t do it today. I’m all nerves now, Konstantine!”

The Regent put an authoritative hand on the boy’s shoulder, once more giving a sure smile, radiating comforting warmth through Demetrius. “Then hearken to me. You have the Divine Right. You will be King of Duna’Liet. No plotter, even with magical slight of hand, will ever prevail against what God has decreed. I give my oath of honor and my life to ensure that, as does the Contra’Vagus. Take fresh courage, Majesty.”

The Dauphin closed his eyes to breathe, then looked up at the Regent with a determined smile. The pair departed the royal bedchamber.

Led by the Contra’Vagus, the dragoons rode north, powerful hooves sending up muddy sprays from the ground. During one stretch of the King’s Road – an unremarkable landscape save for a young, nearby copse to the west and some very low hillocks to the east – Montmercy suddenly gripped the reins. The mind was hostage to a recent memory of this very stretch... Images of a pain-stricken face staring up at the sky... So very dear a face, the Contra’Vagus had often joked of it as a mirror... Then the heart-stopping moment of holding that beloved young man post-death, with a bloodied, battered Beron staring down at the matching pair in shock, the ground littered with ten other dead Corps d’Noir Elites...

In the present, the merciful rain fell harder. Icy drops slipped beneath Montmercy’s raised coat collar, soaking the uniform and cravat beneath. At once, the Contra’Vagus roused out of horrific memory, focus regained. Gritting teeth, boot heels spurred the horse even faster...