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Alexandra’s fame also grew, and she dutifully received the praises from her people and was recognized for the part she played during the war. It weighed heavily on her when she discovered the number of serfs who had died fighting for her. She made it her personal mission to make sure every family was compensated for their losses and even organized a team of widows to distribute winter supplies to those families whose fathers and sons had perished defeating Hadebrand. She also helped those who had been ruled by Hadebrand and were now within our borders. So many of them had been abused by Edgar’s reign, and Alexandra seemed to think it her duty to restore their faith in royalty.
She succeeded.
“I do not understand,” Alexandra said as she shifted in the throne she now occupied. She turned to face me better as another of our subjects left their tribute and returned to their own lands. “Edgar took more from them than was necessary, and when we try to lower their tribute, they still bring more than they must.”
I smiled, knowing that she already had the answer in her head; she just could not bring herself to accept it as truth.
“You are worth it,” I told her. “They know that. They also hope you will remember them if they fall into need.”
“How can I remember so many?”
“You remember more than I.”
Alexandra met my gaze and pursed her lips.
“You are lucky to remember your son’s name at times!”
I laughed, knowing she referred to the previous day when I had called for one of the hunting dogs, and when he had returned to my heel, I had patted his head and accidently called him Branny. Alexandra had been horrified, sure I would refer to our son by a dog’s name next.
“I should go check on Amarra’s pups.” I stood and reached for my cloak, for the air had turned wintery cold again.
“I will check on Branny,” my wife said as she wrapped her hand around my arm.
I rolled my eyes
at the nickname.
“That is not a fitting name for a prince,” I said—again. It was contagious, however, and I found myself using the name more often than not.
“It suits him,” Alexandra said with a shrug. She kissed my cheek and made her way up the back stairs to tend to our son.
I smiled to myself as I thought of them both and realized he was now a month old. I tried to count back the days since his birth in the now-sealed dungeons of Sterling Castle. After the third time Alexandra woke up in the dark from nightmares about the place, it was the only thing I could think to do that made any difference. If nothing else, she slept better afterwards, and it had been more than a week since she woke up crying.
A full thirty-four days since my heir was born. I selfishly wondered if Alexandra was still recovering from giving birth or if I might try to pursue her more physical affections once again. Sunniva had warned me to leave her be until Alexandra approached me, but knowing my wife, I could wait for years before such a thing occurred. Throughout our marriage, she had summoned up the courage to initiate physical love between us exactly three times.
And she blushed every time she did so.
Beautifully, demurely seductive was my wife.
She was glorious.
I walked outside, through the marketplace, and toward the stables and dog run. Before I managed to reach any of the structures, I was hailed by Dunstan. I turned to walk to him where he stood on the road with a handful of other men.
“Look what I found,” Dunstan said as he hauled Sir Leland out from behind the other guards. “He was creeping up behind Sterling Castle just as I was leaving.”
I glanced over at him, looked into his eyes, and felt more pity for him than I expected. He was going to die, and he knew it. There was nothing that he or anyone else could say to change that. However, knowing my wife and son were healthy and warm inside my bedchambers, what happened to this wretch seemed much less important to me than it would have before the war.
“Kill him,” I said with a shrug.
“I assumed as much,” Dunstan said with a nod, “but I think we need to check out the area south of Sterling first.”
Dunstan and the other two guards proceeded to tell me how Sir Leland was not alone when he approached Sterling Castle but was with two other men—both calloused and dirty worker-types, one of whom was killed as he tried to flee. The other nearly escaped and was killed far enough into the woods that my men had found a path nearly wide enough to be a road. The entrance to it was hidden behind the trees to the south of the castle.
Intrigued by Dunstan’s tale of Sir Leland’s accomplices, I sent a messenger back to Alexandra to let her know of my parting, and we left for Sterling immediately with Leland still our prisoner. He was not forthcoming with any information during the journey, but I could see him becoming more and more agitated as we passed Sterling Castle and headed into the forest just beyond it.
There was, in fact, a road there, just beyond the first line of trees. It had not been there when I was a child or even later in my life. It must have been built after the first war when Edgar took over Sterling lands. Sir Leland was secured to a tree and left with a guard as the rest of us continued on.
We followed the road cautiously. After only a few minutes of trotting, we heard the sounds of men working and talking. We left our horses and moved with more stealth through the trees until we came to a clearing near a hillside. There were four men, one of whom was obviously in charge. He stood at the entrance to a cave near a group of rocks in the side of the hill. I knew him as soon as I heard his gruff voice and strange cadence that showed him to be from a land far away.
