Dear Readers-- Quoting you: "Write more, write more, write Edon's story..." Sure, to YOU they're casual comments! To me, it's a TRILOGY!! (See End Note for more info.) Again, thank you so much for the hearts, stars, and comments. I'm incredibly grateful to know that my characters come to life in your minds and hearts, too. --Love-- Stefanie
--o--
It wasn't the shaking which woke him, it was the pain of his teeth rattling around in his swollen head.
"My lord! My lord! My lord Maxen!"
He groaned and flailed out with a blind, violent backhand, trying to kill whichever idiot was interrupting his alcoholic slumber. Just one good hit and he could go back to sleep. He missed.
The voice changed and the shaking intensified. "Maxen!"
He didn't respond, hoping Edon would give up.
Not a chance.
"You! Girl! Give me that bowl of water."
Maxen groaned again, opening his eyes and rolling heavily onto one elbow, ignoring the handful of servants cowering around the door. "I surrender. What could possibly make you think I'd want to rise from the dead before noon?"
Anticipating his reaction, Edon stepped back and folded his arms across his chest.
"Our man in the basement is bleeding and unconscious. Milot, Geralt, and
your wife
have fled."
In a quarter of an hour twenty men were mustered and mounted for the search.
Eight men followed the main trail, which led north to the nearest settlements, six followed the lightly-traveled trail leading south-east into Powys. Maxen, Edon, and the four remaining men took the ill-defined path westward, which wound higher into the mountains before descending toward the heart of Gwynedd. To any thinking man, it was the least likely route to take, being steep, rocky, cold, and generally difficult to traverse, plus providing few of the desiderata to maintain human life.
Most of his men raised a brow at Maxen's choice, but Edon concurred. Kerin and Geralt were clever, and all three runaways were at home in these harsh environs. Kerin would chose the most difficult terrain, hoping to discourage pursuit and confuse trackers.
They rode in silence, stopping periodically for one of their most experienced hunters to examine the ground, and dismounting occasionally to lead their mounts up the steepest parts of the trail. At mid-morning they were rewarded with two clear, nearly overlapping footprints, one significantly smaller than the other.
"Geralt and Lady Kerin." Edon commented.
Maxen nodded and they continued their pursuit.
After a while, Maxen reined in and fell back. Edon slowed also, until fifty feet separated them from the rider ahead. He glanced across at his liege.
Maxen's jaw was tight, his eyes burning brightly. He spoke quietly, a mild breeze whisking his words away from the other four men.
"Three men were present when-- " he stopped.
It was the first time Edon had seen Maxen at a loss for words. He would have made sport of it in other circumstances, but today he answered the unasked question without jest or hesitation. "Yes, my lord- Cadell, Iago, and Eduard."
"What were they told?"
Edon heaved a deep, quiet sigh of regret for his brother-in-arms. "I was forced to kill Eduard before he left the keep. I instructed Cadell and Iago to tell others the truth-- Eduard spoke ill of the Queen and I ran him through. In addition to my earlier instructions, I believe that helped convince them to keep their silence about what took place."
Maxen didn't question Edon's judgment in killing Eduard-- the man was a notorious lecher, and if Edon believed his death was necessary to protect Kerin's honor, then it was necessary. Maxen frowned at his horse's mane. If he'd been as concerned with his wife's welfare yesterday as he ought to have been, Edon would have been spared the decision, and Eduard would still be alive.
They rode in single-file for the next ten minutes, paying close attention to the rock-strewn path, where a sharp drop on one side lay waiting to turn a simple slip into tragedy.
When they were past the worst of it, Maxen cleared his throat. "I owe you an apology and many thanks, Edon Glyn. I hope my stupidity has not led to the loss of your friendship as well as the loss of my wife."
Edon was slow to answer. "I am also at fault, my lord. For several days now, I have suspected Lady Kerin still harbors tender feelings for you. I had no proof and much doubt, but I should have shared my thoughts."
After his initial rush of anger, Maxen considered more carefully. Would he have believed Edon's suspicions? Probably not, he concluded. Aloud, he answered, "My sin is by far the greater, Edon, and I must beg your forgiveness."
Edon replied quickly. "You needn't request it, my lord. I cannot imagine a sin so great that I would sacrifice my brother."
Maxen was silent again, and Edon didn't need to look over to know how his answer was received. His own chest was tight with emotion. He didn't allow himself to think how Maxen would react if Kerin was hurt, or worse, if she was never found.
After a while, Maxen shook his head. "I understand nothing of this, except that I've somehow misjudged her."
"I too, my lord. But we will find them, and once we are back at the keep, the queen will take you into her confidence."
Maxen wished he could be as sure.
Around noontime, the increasingly dangerous terrain forced them to abandon their horses, which actually allowed Maxen's party to travel faster. Welshmen were tough and hardy, and even a lowlander could scramble these peaks for days without food or water. Maxen's men had plenty of both, but most of it proved a useless burden. An hour after leaving their horses, the tracker turned back from his position to hush the men with hand signals, beckoning Maxen forward. In low tones, he said he'd heard what he believed to be the echo of a feminine voice from the next convoluted fold of the rocky earth.
