Chapter 8 - Shadows in the Upper Spires
The midnight bells of the Great Cathedral tolled twelve heavy strokes across the sleeping city of Eldoria.
A cold rain fell from the charcoal clouds, washing the blood from the palace courtyard stones.
In the upper private apartments of the Royal Keep, a warm fire crackled within an ornate granite fireplace.
Princess Celestine sat on a plush velvet settee, wrapped in a thick wool blanket.
She held a silver cup of warm spiced milk, but her hands were trembling so violently that the liquid spilled over the rim.
Elena stood near the tall arched balcony window, looking out over the flickering torches of the city below.
Her hand rested lightly against the cold stone mullion.
"You should be resting, Celestine," Elena said gently without turning around.
"Tomorrow will test every ounce of courage you have," she added.
Celestine looked up, tears glistening along the rims of her large blue eyes.
"Elena, I am terrified," Celestine admitted in a broken whisper.
"For my whole life, Mother Victoria told me what to say, how to walk, and what to smile at," Celestine confessed.
"I thought she was protecting me from the darkness outside," she wept.
"I did not know she was the monster," Celestine added.
Elena walked away from the window and sat down beside her younger sister on the velvet settee.
She took the silver cup from Celestine’s shaking hands and placed it upon the marble side table.
Elena gently took Celestine’s hands into her own rough palms.
"Victoria Langley did not raise you to protect you, Celestine," Elena said honestly.
"She raised you to be a fragile puppet so her family could pull the strings from behind the curtain," Elena explained.
"She wanted you weak so she could remain powerful," she noted.
"But you are not weak, Celestine," Elena whispered.
"You have the same blood running through your veins that built these high granite towers," she reminded her.
Celestine leaned her head against Elena’s shoulder, weeping softly into the dark wool of her sister’s tunic.
"I thought you were dead for twenty years," Celestine choked out between sobs.
"How did you survive in the scullery? Why didn't you come for me sooner?" she asked.
Elena stared into the roaring flames of the hearth, the flickering orange light dancing in her amber eyes.
"Because Rowan knew that if anyone suspected I lived, George Langley would have poisoned my soup before sunset," Elena answered.
"Rowan hid me among the lowest kitchen staff where no nobleman ever looks," Elena explained.
"I learned to wash iron pots until my knuckles bled," she recalled.
"I learned to sleep on sacks of flour while the winter frost covered the rafters," she remembered.
"I learned patience, Celestine," Elena said softly.
"A sword forged in a day shatters upon the first iron breastplate," she added.
"A sword beaten on the anvil for twenty years can cut through stone," Elena proclaimed.
A soft knock sounded at the heavy chamber door.
Captain Rowan entered, his boots leaving wet tracks upon the fine woven rug.
He closed the door behind him and locked the iron latch.
"Your Majesty," Rowan spoke in a low, urgent voice.
"We have a situation in the lower guardhouse," he reported.
Elena rose instantly to her feet, her protective warmth vanishing behind her sovereign mask.
"What is it, Rowan?" Elena asked.
"We intercepted a pigeon flying toward the northern highway," Rowan revealed.
He pulled a small cylinder of thin sheepskin parchment from his belt and handed it to Elena.
"It was addressed to Duke Malakar," Rowan noted.
"It contains the exact troop deployments of the city watch and the layout of our defensive barricades," he warned.
Elena unrolled the tiny scroll and held it near the candlelight.
Her eyes scanned the tight, elegant handwriting.
"This was not written by a common soldier," Elena said, her voice dropping an octave into absolute coldness.
"This is the cursive script taught only to the aristocratic scribes of the capital," she identified.
"There is another traitor inside this palace," Rowan confirmed grimly.
"Someone who sat at your council table this very morning," he added.
Celestine gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.
"Who would do this after pledging their loyalty to you?" Celestine whispered in disbelief.
"Men whose gold is tied to Malakar's northern silver mines," Elena answered without hesitation.
She examined the bottom of the parchment where a tiny wax impression remained.
It was not a dragon, nor was it the Langley falcon.
It was the triple-leaf clover of House Dennis.
"Baron Dennis," Elena muttered, her eyes narrowing into cold points of fire.
"The pious lord who cried the loudest about the honor of the Crown," Rowan spat with disgust.
"Shall I take six guards and drag him from his bedchambers, Your Majesty?" Rowan offered.
"No," Elena commanded, raising her hand.
"If we arrest him now, his conspirators will scatter like rats into the city maze," she reasoned.
"They will burn their correspondence and hide their gold before we can root them out," she noted.
"What do you propose, sister?" Celestine asked, leaning forward with sudden curiosity.
Elena walked back to the fireplace and dropped the intercepted message into the roaring flames.
The parchment curled, blackened, and turned to grey ash within seconds.
"Rowan, bring me our scribe," Elena ordered.
"We are going to write a reply to Duke Malakar," Elena declared with a grim smile.
"We will tell him that the southern gate will be opened by Dennis's men at the third hour of dawn," she planned.
"We will draw his elite vanguard right into the market square where the stone arches will collapse upon their heads," Elena revealed.
Rowan grinned, his battle-scarred face lighting up with fierce satisfaction.
"A false trail," Rowan chuckled.
"You are turning their own treason into their burial shroud," he said.
"They think because I was a servant, I do not understand war," Elena whispered as she watched the embers die.
"They forget that the servant is the one who sets the rat traps in the dark," she stated.
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"Prepare the horses, Rowan," Elena commanded.
"Tomorrow, Eldoria will bleed, but it will bleed for the last time," Elena declared.
