C.P. Bird - The Portaellen War Chronicles

Victory’s thoughts suddenly took him back to the throne room at Guinlance Castle. The words of his older twin brother ringing in his ears as he was banished from Fantaellen, forever. For a crime that his brother had said was an unforgivable sin. A sin that only the two brothers and the queen knew of.

Before he dismissed his confidant and general the two men went over all their plans and strategies once again. General Grafton watched as his master and friend became animated as they carefully went over his invasion plans.

Upon, dismissing the general the two men embraced, and shook hands.

‘The invasion needs to be fast and lethal,’ Victory stated. ‘Our enemy will then be brought to their knees.’

General Grafton saw the passion in his master’s eyes as he spoke. His pupil’s widened as he finished, ‘Fantaellen will burn! The blood of its people will fuel the flames.’

General Grafton saluted his master, with a thump of his fist on the breast plate of his armour. Then, turning on his heel’s the general marched out of the room.

Cedric Grafton, General of his master’s Blackheart knights had his orders. As he made his way down the cold dimly lit corridors of the Fortress Of Fear he did so with purpose. The blood raced around his body and his evil; black heart pounded in his chest. Never had he felt so alive.

Time was short. Orders to be given. An enemy to bring to its knees.

***

Henri, the Royal Physician had been summoned to a riverbank a few miles outside of Guinlance Castle. The last daylight hours had faded quickly, and the evening chill had kept him awake. He had only managed a few hours’ sleep since the death of the sovereign. A combination of guilt worries and questions consumed his tired mind.

Henri had been told that a body had been found by a patrol of knight’s returning from the coast, and that he with his medical background would be needed to ascertain what had happened to the victim as foul play was not only suspected but certain.

As he dismounted his steed Henri gently patted the horse’s head before walking the creature towards a tree where he tied the reins around the trunk. He then grabbed his medical bag and accompanied a knight who now directed him towards a small, wooded area.

It was eerily quiet. Just a single hoot from an owl disturbing the gentle sound of the River Leife lapping at the riverbank.

‘One of my men spotted him,’ revealed the knight. ‘We haven’t touched the body. Thought it best that we leave it for you. A couple of us recognise him from the castle. We think he was a servant.’

Henri was suddenly curious. ‘How did your man, spot the body from the track?’

‘Bit of luck sir. A call of nature.’

‘I see,’ replied Henri.

They walked the distance to the site of the body in silence which allowed Henri to survey the surroundings. They appeared to be walking deeper into the trees towards the river when he spotted a clearing and a glimpse of the riverbank.

‘Just over here, sir.’

As they neared the body, Henri noticed that it was lying prone with a large pool of blood that had congealed, around the head.

He knelt next to the body and began to roll it over.

‘Here. Let me help you, sir.’ Offered the knight.

Together, the two men rolled the body over.

Henri instantly recognised the dead man. Somehow, he suppressed the urge to gasp or say anything.

After gathering himself together Henri studied the body with more intent. All the time staring at the lifeless face as he did so.

‘He has an obvious wound to his neck,’ Henri confirmed. ‘A knife wound. A deep cut, from left to right.’

As Henri examined the body further, he found a large amount of blood all over the man’s right hand. In all likelihood the victim’s he concluded. Probably the final act of a dying man trying to hold his neck together. As he wiped away the blood his heart suddenly stopped when he saw the blackened fingertips.

Oh! No!

Henri tried to remain calm and carry on his investigation as the events leading up to the death of King Stefan flashed through his head.

A few feet away he noticed a dagger on the ground most likely the dead man’s as only a very panicked killer would leave their weapon behind Henri deduced.

‘Are you all right, sir?’ enquired the knight who could see that the royal physician was visibly shaken and a little distracted.

‘Yes, I’m fine. The sight of dead bodies still gets to me. Strange isn’t it? My profession and I still can’t get used to seeing one. I will be all right, shortly. It will pass.’

‘No problem, sir. I can give you a few moments.’

The knight had been called over to speak to one of his men. So that now left Henri alone with the body.

Henri continued to examine the corpse. Strangely he noticed that the deceased’s left hand was inside his tunic. As Henri pulled out the hand to examine it he could see a chain entwined within stiffened fingers. The royal physician began slowly prising it from the tightened grasp.

The bloodied chain was a dull silver with a small, engraved pendant that appeared to have a prominent raised symbol on the back of it. Craftily, Henri placed it in his pocket. He did not recognise the symbol, but he knew that it did not belong to the victim.

The victim had been an assassin. A killer with blackened fingertips. The mark of a poisoner. And the probable killer of a king and a sovereign.

Walking away from the body Henri had one question in his head. How did this probable murderer of his sovereign get out of Guinlance Castle when it was supposed to be in lockdown? The victim appeared to have no official paperwork upon his person to allow him to leave the castle. So how did he get out?

It was not long before the royal physician had more questions than answers whirling around his tired mind as he rode his steed back towards Guinlance Castle.

He did, however, now know that King Stefan’s death was definitely not a natural one. He believed that he also knew how and what poison was probably used. Furthermore, in his pocket he had a bloodied chain prised from the fingers of the dead man that had a symbol of some significance of which Henri was not sure of yet. That chain held a possible clue to the identity of the killer.

A killer who was either safely hidden behind the walls of Guinlance Castle or was away in the wind and back in the shadows. Were they friend or foe?

Henri had no clue.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.