"What has Agnes said now?"
Irene caught Felix walking down the hallway towards the dining hall, but she pulled him into the sitting room before he could go forward.
The situation hadn’t improved.
The Duke remained sick and out of everyone’s reach. However, the apprentices and a couple of the maids continued in their observation of the new maids since they were the only ones allowed to enter the Duke’s bedroom.
Where they ca from was a mystery. How the Duchess found them when she had been bound to the Duke’s Tower for the entire winter never beca clearer.
All they could do was go on as if nothing was the matter, but it didn’t suit the apprentices who were always antsy to get to the bottom of everything.
Felix was caught off guard for a mont, not expecting anyone to interrupt his path forward. He had not only been asking Agnes for information, but doing other things the two of them tended to get up to when they were together behind a closed door.
The eldest apprentice cleared his throat and straightened out his light green tunic.
"The only maid who seems willing to talk is quite young," Felix explained in a low voice. "Rosalind is her na. She’s from the village that was pillaged by monsters at the beginning of winter. Most of them had settled nearby. Efforts to rebuild the village are beginning soon, but they don’t have high hopes due to the state of the Duke."
Irene wanted to be upset with the maids who were so secretive, but it was clear they were under the Duchess’s orders and couldn’t go against the person who was feeding them. It seed a bit cruel to take advantage of people so vulnerable.
"So the others won’t say anything?" Irene asked. "Have you told Sir Gunnar?"
Felix glanced towards the hallway, then back at the shorter apprentice.
"I told him already, but listen to this," he began, watching Irene stand a bit straighter as she focused harder. "Rosalind confessed to Agnes that the Duke’s face is turning purple. His mouth is bruised, and she isn’t hopeful he will make it much past spring."
Irene’s mouth dropped open, and she looked a bit alard. Certain realities she didn’t want to face were coming up more quickly than expected.
"Can’t the mages interfere?" she wondered, trying to keep her voice quiet. "Stanley is one of the best I’ve ever seen. I just don’t understand..."
"We’ll need Sir Gunnar’s permission," Felix explained. "Perhaps Rosalind could speak to one of the mages about the circumstances, and they could help her with so sort of dicine."
Irene nodded, knowing she shouldn’t approach the situation without alerting her knight first.
"He was in the stables last I checked," Felix recalled. "Better move quickly."
Irene nodded and thanked Felix for the information before she scurried off to the back entrance of the largest tower and went out to the practice yard.
Sir Gunnar was already leaving the stables, where there were undoubtedly other apprentices there so it wouldn’t be a good place to talk anyway.
"Sir Gunnar, may I speak with you for a mont?" she asked.
"Grab us practice swords," he ordered, deciding it would be the best way to hide whatever she needed to talk to him about.
By the expression she wore, he knew whatever she wanted to talk about was going to be heavy. The rest of the winter had been burdenso. He didn’t know how much more responsibility he could take before begging Sir Arthur to return.
Irene nodded once before rushing to the small building that housed their practice items. They had only just reorganized it after it had piled up over the winter. There she found two freshly oiled practice swords and brought them to the knight who waited in the middle of the yard.
It was a bit wet outside but wouldn’t inhibit them from using the yard.
After she handed one of the swords to Sir Gunnar, he got into a stance and was ready to brace for whatever Irene decided to hand to him. It would most likely be sothing easy to handle if she needed to talk as well.
She raised her sword and feinted. Last minute, she changed directions and thrusted the blade so he had to really try to block.
"You’re being feisty," he realized. "Spit it out before you get wound up."
Irene held out her wooden sword with both hands and adjusted her grip.
"The youngest maid’s na is Rosalind," she explained. "She has been confiding in Agnes about the state of the Duke. Sir, the Duke’s face is purple and bruised, and the maid doesn’t think he will last much longer."
That made Sir Gunnar raise his sword, and he parried. Irene reacted quickly to give him a firm block in response.
"That much I know," Gunnar responded. "What is your solution?"
"The mages have been working on clarifying magic," Irene persisted. "Even so of the herbs and potions they can make may help the Duke if there’s sothing that needs to be purged. What if we can have them sneak sothing with Rosalind?"
Gunnar swung his sword once more and allowed Irene to block it. He swung a couple more tis, allowing her to parry his strikes.
"Will that risk Rosalind at the Duchess’s hands?" Gunnar asked.
He had seen the young maid before, and she couldn’t have been much older than Irene. To put her through hell for their cause seed cruel.
"If she is willing..." Irene trailed off.
She nearly missed parrying one of Gunnar’s strikes, and she had to rebound by giving her own blow in response.
"If there is a way we can speak with her when she is working with Agnes, perhaps it’s possible—"
"Sir Gunnar!"
Both of their practice swords stopped, and the two turned to see Agnes running out of the Duke’s Tower. She was holding her skirts, a sure sign that she had been running. Her shoulders heaving gave way to that as well.
The maid didn’t allow the knight a mont to answer.
"His Grace... His Grace is dead."
She folded in half with her hands on her knees, and her head hung in sorrow.
User Comments
0 comments from readers