The Unfortunate, стр. 44
Take her with me. Yes. Damn Armania and Yorcia, and damn my throne! We can escape our current lives and begin anew. She is indeed beautiful, an image of perfection. In addition to these thoughts, Beadurof was again reminded of his urges from days past, and he felt his desire increasing as he observed the princess’ features—her coils of blond hair that cascaded over her shoulders like streams of gold, her eyes that gleamed with an abundance of youth, and her fair skin that had adopted a radiance of ivory from the moonlight.
The king placed a hand on the young woman’s knee.
She must have thought his actions were a harmless mishap, but despite this Beadurof wanted to believe Eadlin felt the same longing. He desired her and yearned to continue past the innocence of one touch, but he quickly dismissed the thoughts and briefly directed his attention to the northeast. He had an obligation to Armania. And more than that, he had sworn a sacred oath to his wife, and he was not prepared to break either of them. Despite his thoughts and despite the initial, unexpected request, Beadurof’s reply was firm and came without hesitation. “No. I cannot.” His words served as both a reply and a warning to himself. He removed his hand and concluded, “Even if I wanted. The consequences would—”
“This has never been my home,” she interrupted with a sterner tone. “Take me with you.”
“I want nothing more than …” He had to stop himself from suggesting, to take you with me and begin life anew. If only— NO! It can never be! And with that Beadurof eventually finished his reply. “I want nothing more than a marriage that will bring with it lasting peace between Armania and Yorcia, but you and I both understand such an idea would be no more if you leave with me. My own …”He again had to pause to consider his words, to prevent himself from referring to his action as an escape before concluding, “My own departure is enough of a risk.”
Eadlin lowered her head and nodded slightly.
“I shall not take you with me, but I can still help you.” He used his hand to lift her chin. “After the war has ended, I shall do whatever necessary for your wedding to Banan to occur, but first I need to return to Armania. Help me, Eadlin, and one day I shall embrace you as my daughter.”
She was quiet momentarily, but eventually she nodded and inquired, “What can I do?”
Beadurof stood, retrieved the coil of rope, and tied it around one of the merlons atop the wall’s inner side. Once satisfied it would hold, he looked at the young woman and answered, “Leave me. I shall not have a guard see you assisting. Return to your chambers.”
“There is nothing I can do?”
“For now, no, but there is something else. Before dawn’s first light, return to this location, remove the rope, and see it destroyed. There can be no evidence.”
She nodded understandingly but still hesitated before departing.
Once he was alone, Beadurof tossed the rope over the opposite side of the wall to the city street below, and he was comforted when he heard a slight thud. Fate be thanked! There had been more than enough to reach the ground. He gripped the rope, passed through an embrasure, turned his body so he was facing the wall, and quickly planted his feet against the roughly cut blocks of stone. For a moment, he remained still as if to reconsider his actions, but he knew what needed to be done. He needed to return to Armania. After having reassured himself, Beadurof propelled his body backward by pushing against the wall while simultaneously allowing the rope to ease through his clutched fists. He again repeated the process—push back, ease the rope, descend, plant his feet against the wall.
Deep breath.
Push back, ease the rope, descend, plant his feet against the wall.
He could not stop. He had to escape.
Deep breath.
After he had sensed he was halfway, the king paused and looked to the top of the wall to estimate how far he had descended only to discover it was much less. He resumed his descent with a quickened pace. Why is it taking so—? And that is when the mishap occurred. To compensate for what he deemed had been lost time, Beadurof became careless and allowed the rope to pass through his hands faster than he could control.
PART II
SUMMER
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AWIERGAN
Although he could recall several memories from his childhood, there was only one that could be considered the beginning of his current life.
“LET ME GO!” the man had exclaimed to the guards who were trying to restrain him.
That had caused Awiergan to avert his attention.
“Let me go! You have mistaken me for another!”
The guards had not believed the man’s comment and neither had Awiergan. He had seen the man steal numerous times prior.
“LET ME—”
One of the guards had punched the man’s abdomen to silence him, but it had only made the situation worse. In between slurred moans, the thief had continued to plead his case, and he had been struck a second time. The hit had been delivered with more force than the first, and for the briefest moment, Awiergan had felt sorry for the man. But he is a thief. On numerous occasions he has wronged innocent people. He deserves to be punished. Awiergan had concluded his thoughts and had continued to watch the guards escort the thief. At last they had disappeared, but that had not stopped Awiergan from continuing to ponder the situation. Justice. The word had lingered in his mind, and even though he had still been a boy,