26. Haldric

twenty-six

Haldric

Haldric awoke in his own quarters at the palace, snug in his bed beneath the sheets. Someone had undressed him to his smallclothes and deposited him here to rest.

Blinking away the deluge of memories, he groaned and sat up, clutching his head in his hands and rubbing at his exhausted eyes.

Confusion addled his brain as he struggled to sort through it all. Memories of his time with Benjin in the cottage bled into recollections of his past and childhood. Of growing up in the palace in Revesole. Of his father, hale and hearty, and his sister, ever his idol, smiling patiently at him as she taught him some new trick she'd picked up in her training. His father's sickness and Melisie's death hit him anew with fresh grief.

But intermingled with those older memories were also recollections of the more recent present, stark and vivid. Of his first, ill-fated run-ins with Benjin. Of their begrudging lessons together. Of the budding closeness they'd shared as Haldric found in him someone he could trust, open up to. Someone to share his burdens with.

Memories of their trip to Luxem and the newfound intimacy he and Benjin had discovered despite the noose of responsibility tightening around Haldric's neck. Of their return to the palace, and his growing desperation for some way, any way out. Of the Grand Magus' ritual and Haldric's reckless decision…

Overcome with guilt, Haldric jerked to his feet. He paced about his chamber, struggling to get a grip on his whirlwind of emotions. His feelings for Benjin remained a confused jumble, the handful of blissful months they'd shared in that cottage in Gerald's Spring intermingling with everything that had come before.

Benjin had risked himself to save Haldric from his own idiocy. Because that's what it had been—sheer idiocy. Haldric had made a terrible mistake. In a moment of weakness, he'd sought to run from his life rather than face it head on. To flee his responsibility, his duty…and Benjin himself. It had only been a happy accident that, in that respect at least, he had failed.

Fresh urgency seized Haldric, and he hurried to tug on clothes. He had much to sort out, much to seek forgiveness for. But above all else, he had to speak to Benjin. To attempt to apologize for everything…as insufficient as such a gesture might be.

Suitably dressed in a plain leather jerkin, he moved to his door and was startled to find it locked from the outside. He pounded on the wood with a fist.

"This is Prince Haldric. I command you to open this door at once!"

Movement echoed from beyond the door, followed an instant later by a click as the lock disengaged. The door opened to reveal his aunt dressed in her usual armor. She eyed him warily, flanked by two royal guards.

"Haldric? Is that really you?"

He frowned at her. "Of course it is. Who else would it be?"

She fixed him with a withering look that made him feel like a small child. "We weren't certain how the ritual might have affected you. The Grand Magus said it worked, but there was no way to tell for sure until you awoke."

Forcing himself to slow down and take a breath despite his impatience, he offered her a strained smile. "Of course. My apologies, Aunt. I remember everything." Guilt and regret churned in his gut as he gripped her arm. "Thank you for helping to bring me back where I belong."

Janelle peered into his face for a long moment, then relaxed, motioning the guards back. "Of course, Haldric. You know I would do anything for you."

A shiver clutched his spine as he recalled her promise to help him with the other governors. "I know." He glanced longingly past her down the hall. "And I look forward to catching up. But right now, there's somewhere else I need to be."

Her gaze narrowed, her lips pursing. "Don't tell me you still intend to run off to that lowborn sorcerer? Goddess be praised, I'd hoped that nonsense would have vanished along with his vile curse."

"This isn't Benjin's fault! None of this is." Haldric bowed his head, tightening his hands into fists. "I…I can explain. But first, I need to—"

"What you need is to come with me," his aunt replied in a firm voice. "All else can wait until after you speak with your father."

"But—"

"King Roland has been beside himself, his health dangling by a thread! He ordered that you be brought to him the instant you awoke, and that is what I intend to do."

Haldric fell silent, reading the unspoken tension in his aunt's posture. She was worried, and not just about him. An image of his father's worsening condition upon his and Benjin's return to Revesole played out before him. Goddess' mercy, how weak the king had seemed then, and he'd looked little better when Haldric had seen him while still bereft of his memories.

Reluctantly, he jerked a nod. "Very well. Take me to him."

They walked the corridors in silence, Haldric too preoccupied with his thoughts to muster the energy for any forced conversation. While he was glad for the chance to see his father again while in his right mind, he wasn't certain what to say or how to explain what had happened.

To exonerate Benjin, Haldric would have to admit that Dexil had been the one who'd cast the curse. But even if it had been at Haldric's request, he feared that would get the Grand Magus in trouble. Perhaps he could claim he'd acted alone. But would he be able to convince Benjin to corroborate his tale?

Duchess Janelle nodded to the pair of guards standing vigil outside the king's chambers as they passed. Haldric noticed distractedly that they seemed more on edge than usual, stealing glances at him from the corners of their eyes. No doubt rumors abounded throughout the palace of the cursed prince's ill-fated return.

The king's sitting room was deserted. They walked straight through, entering his bedchamber. That, too, stood empty.

His aunt frowned, glancing about. "Where are the chirurgeons and servants? Someone should be here to attend to him. I swear to the Goddess, if he sent them away again…"

A sudden foreboding gripped Haldric. Tuning out his aunt, he approached the bed with halting steps. Though his father lay there much as he ever had, there was a stillness to him that Haldric didn't like. The sheets didn't rustle. No muscles twitched. He didn't turn his neck to smile at Haldric as he neared.

Stopping just beside the bed, Haldric reached up with a shaking hand to touch the king's cheek. "Father?" No response. The skin was cold— too cold. His eyes remained shut, even as Haldric gently shook him, his voice cracking. "Father. Please, say something."

Desperation lodged in his throat as he continued to shake him. When there was still no response, he knelt down, cradling his father's body in his arms. There was no heartbeat. No breath. No life.

Tears streaked his cheeks, dampening his father's nightshirt as he pressed his face into his father's chest. Because of what Haldric had done, he'd missed out on these past few months with his father while he was still alive.

This was all his fault.

A gentle hand rested on his back. "There is nothing to be done," his aunt said. "I'm sorry, Haldric. It was his time."

"My…fault…" he managed to choke out between quiet sobs over the reunion he'd never get to have.

"Don't be absurd. You could no more control his time of death than anyone else." Her usually solid voice wavered. "I…I think he was holding on until you returned to us. He wanted to know you were safe before he was gone. And now that you are, well…I guess he felt he could finally lay down his burden."

The thought only deepened Haldric's guilt. This was the result of his past weakness—a shame and knowledge he'd be forced to bear until the end of his days.

But one I will do everything in my power not to repeat.

Rising on shaky feet, Haldric swiped angrily at his eyes. "I'll send for servants to see to the necessary arrangements. But first, there's something else I must do—a wrong I must right before it's too late."

Janelle shook her head, resigned. "I suppose there's no sense trying to talk you out of it. Very well…Your Majesty. I'll handle your father. Just don't do anything rash."

Haldric paused, giving her a wavering, broken smile. "Since when have you known me to do anything rash?"

He opened the door, began to walk out…and barely dodged backward as a crossbow bolt lodged itself in the wooden frame a mere hand's length from his skull.

"Intruders!" his aunt cried. "Guards! Guards!"

Reacting before Haldric could recover from his dazed shock, Janelle rushed forward, drew him back into the safety of the chamber, and slammed the door closed right as another crossbow bolt pinged into the thick wood.

"What in the Void is happening?" Haldric demanded. "Who is shooting at us?"

"I don't know." His aunt drew her twin axes. "But I intend to find out."

Haldric listened intently to the muffled sounds beyond the door. "I don't hear any shouts of alarm. No guards entering."

"And no servants…" Janelle's lips tightened into a grim line. "Something about this doesn't sit right."

"A trap!" Haldric exclaimed, his eyes widening. "They were waiting for us to come here." His gaze drifted to his father's body. "You don't think…"

"I don't know." She kept her gaze fixed on the closed door while her grip tightened around the handles of her axes. "But I'm beginning to suspect help won't be coming." She stalked toward the door. "Stay behind me, Your Majesty."

"I can fight." Haldric reached for his waist, grimacing when he realized he'd forgotten to grab his sword from his chambers in his haste.

"You're the king now. I cannot risk your safety."

"And I cannot risk yours!" he snapped, earning a surprised look. His hands glowed with runeflame as he pressed a hand to her armor. A thin sheen of energy enveloped her. "I doubt this quality of Protection will be enough to halt an arrow, but it should turn aside lesser blows. Here. Give me your axes."

Without hesitation, she proffered them up. Haldric ran his hands over both, taking the time to add the familiar sigils until each blazed with blue flame. If he couldn't imbue his own sword, then he'd have to rely on his aunt to fight in his stead.

She gave him a fierce grin. The expression was almost ghoulish in the ethereal light flickering from her weapons. "Much appreciated. We don't know how many of them are out there or what kind of weaponry they have. Crossbows and swords we can manage, but if they have any casters among them…"

Haldric swallowed. "Let us hope they don't."

She nodded. "Stay close behind me. We'll head for the door, see if we can break past them. If we can make it to the corridor, we might be able to go for help."

Haldric nodded his assent, concentrating on his enchantments as he crouched behind his aunt. With another flare of runeflame, he lent himself a Protection to match the one he'd given her. None of the spells would last long, but hopefully they'd hold long enough.

Benjin, I'm coming for you.