Chapter Eight:

A Week After the Ball

Weeks come and go and time seemed to pass without anything significant in Margaret's life to mark its' existence as memorable. She went to court and to balls as she always did. Nothing seemed new or special. Her father had introduced her to a man here and a man there. None of them really interested her but Margaret was not a shallow person. The fact that every man the Duke brought was old and ugly did not matter as much as the fact that none of them looked at her eyes when she spoke. She tried to let these suitors know that she was far from interested in them. Still, there would be an occasional perfumed letter in her father's box but Margaret never finished reading any of them through before she rejected them in despair. They always seemed to start with complements about her "petite face" or "heavenly eyes" and then the suitor would move on to why he was so great… That was usually when they revealed why they were still single and rich bachelors in a world where every woman needed a husband. It seemed like these men did not live in the same world she did. She expected them to be politicians and generals (two things she knew little about) but she still thought they would live in the same type of existence.

Margaret was dragged from ball to ball and dance-to-dance by her father and attendants. Three balls in less than three weeks seemed like a little too much. Each ball involved having a new dress sewn and standing still for hours as the seamstress fitted it. Worse still was standing at the ball and being told whom she could speak to and when. If any suitable young men were to be met, how could she say a word to any of them without a proper introduction? She knew that married life offered few new distractions but enough was enough. She was about to loose hope and just go through the motions when Iris grabbed at her arm and gestured to the far corner where a group of men stood.

She glanced in their direction but tried not to stare. Her father was not standing far from her and she knew that he would not approve of her wondering eyes. Still, the group had six or seven men in it and they all clustered around each other talking in joyful voices and laughing. At first, all she could see was the back of their heads. The three men in the front suddenly moved to the side and she saw something she had not been prepared to see: a new face in the court catching the attention of all around him. The man who had been speaking had dark hair and deep eyes. His voice was deep and he spoke with insight and passion.

She thought of going over to him but the words of her father and all the mistresses and tutors who had taught her for hours when she was young went through her head. Don't seem too forward, she reminded herself, quoting her father and many teachers. Young men are looking for an obedient wife, not one with interesting conversation. She reached for Iris' hand and held onto it for courage and perseverance. She wanted nothing more than to walk over to them and hear exactly what he was saying. She could only catch every other word while she stood by the banister.

"We'll have to wait for them to come to us," Iris whispered to Margaret, knowing that her friend was not patient. She listened to the men's conversation as she waited for them to notice her. Most men spoke of tennis and cricket but the man who had interested Margaret so much spoke of philosophers like Hobbs and Lock, great thinkers and politicians of the past. Margaret smiled remembering how much her father had complained about paying for tennis and horse riding lessons when all she did when she came home was run up to her room to write or read. The Duke seemed sure that every young lady needed an active hobby to attract young men… Margaret was never very found of the idea of hitting a ball back and forth. She hoped that the man who stood across the room felt the same way. He did not seem interested in sports or other things as the other men did.

She smiled as she studied him; mystified because he was so different: He had dark hair that was cut high but still managed to go over his forehead in the front. He had fire and passion in his eyes but he also knew how to choose his words and took care in doing so. Margaret could not deny that he impressed her; she could only hope that she could do the same. After all the balls, dances and dress fittings Margaret had been forced to attend, this was the first time she was glad of it. She knew that the gown she wore was made of fine silk and covered with lace and wrapped flowers. She had no doubt that the gown was beautiful but she hoped that it was beautiful enough to make the man want to allow her to talk with him. This man was dark and handsome but he also seemed to have warmth in his eyes that lit his face and Margaret wanted to show him that she had the same qualities. The group that crowded around him laughed and smiled at everything he said.

Margaret focused all her thoughts on doing what her father and his tutors had instructed her. She put forth all her effort into being discreet and not stair at the man. She tried to make small talk with her ladies maids and the other ladies to distract herself. She could not help but hope to gain the new noble's attention. She thought that she had stopped staring and that her intentions had gone unidentified but apparently people noticed. Her father walked over to her and whispered, "Let me introduce the two of you."

The girl and her father walked across the room until they stood before the group of gentlemen. The six friends that stood beside the handsome man moved away at a glance from the man but Margaret's father pulled her forward and to the left, past the handsome man until they stood before a tall man with graying hair.

With a wave of his hand, the Duke gestured to the man. Before the Duke could say a word the dark man had stepped forward and was taking Margaret's arm. "Don Anthony Menticcili! Your father and I stood unified before the courts years before you were born."

"Yes, my father speaks very highly of you," Margaret said shakily after the man's forced introduction. Why was this man the one her father wanted her to speak with? When she thought that her father was going to introduce her to the new nobleman, she had released the breath she had been holding. Now, the disappointment of the moment was making her breathe heavily. Her father seemed to notice her nervousness and tried once again to introduce her to the Don properly.

"Don, may I present my daughter, Lady Margaret," the old man gestured to his daughter and began to back away, hoping that leaving the young people alone would help spark romance.

"My lady," the Don bowed to her and held out his hand for her to take. Remembering her manners, Margaret took his hand and was led on to the dance floor.

Musicians played a waltz softly on violins as Don Anthony led Lady Margaret around the dance hall. Margaret had danced at balls with strange men before many times but this was the first time she felt like a really uncomfortable. The Don spoke with her about horses and the weather as they danced and Margaret knew that this could not be any more boring. There was something about this man's eyes: they looked at every detail of her body without ever reaching her face. This man did not see Margaret Michelle Ramante for who she was. He just saw another Lady at a ball. He saw a sea of things that Margaret was sure he would forget in the morning. After only a few hours of dancing, Margaret felt like she already knew this man and his type – she could tell that he was a man to fear. He knew too much about the world around him and refused to introduce himself to the rest of society. Margaret was more than ready for the dancing to end but the dance seemed to only be the beginning.

After the dancing and dinners were through, the men went to the den to enjoy their cigars and talk politics while the ladies went into the parlor to relax. Margaret quickly led Jasmine and Iris onto one side of the room where she could tell them about Don Anthony. She began at the very second they were introduced and left out no detail after that. She told them about their dance and how cold he seemed. A servant had come up to him during the dance but the Don kicked the poor man away. Margaret was ashamed to admit it but the dark Don frightened her. She tried with all of her might to forget the strange Don all through the rest of the party.

When the Duke and his daughter returned to their chambers, Margaret still could not shake the image of Don Anthony from her mind. After Margaret got back from "memory lane", she quickly went to her writing desk and began to compose a letter to the Lady Catherine, who was the party's hostess. She hoped that the kind woman would be able to tell her who the man in the corner was. Who would not find it tempting to write when they had just witnessed something so rare as the man in the corner – with the face of the most handsome man a lady could imagine. The man was perfect: He was learned and kind – two things that Margaret insisted upon. He was a noble with a title of great significance to be invited to such a party and never seen at court. Margaret hoped that the title would allow her father to keep his only rule for her marriage. The ease of it all made her freeze. She daydreamed about a perfect meeting in the garden where they would decide to get married that day. All she had to do was ask the Lady who the man was. She suddenly stopped and thought to herself: When does anything turn out this perfect? It was then that she remembered the Don. Why is this foreign noble even interested in me? Why is he still single? Surely someone like him could marry any woman he chose. Was this a trick? Margaret stopped writing her letter and swiftly went to bed.

The next morning, Margaret was shocked to find a letter for her in her father's box. She was overwhelmed to find that it was from the Don. Margaret read through the letter quickly. Like normal, he spent the first part complementing her. She was relieved to see that it was not her looks or posture he noticed but her "sweet voice and lovely dancing." She had to get Jasmine and Iris and tell them about her letter. Hopefully they would be able to come up with a way to politely tell the Don that she was not interested. Usually, she would just write what she always did but none of the other men scared her quite like this one.

Margaret quickly told both Iris and Jasmine about the letter that she had received. Her senses cried to her. She wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and rip the letter into shreds as a reply. Iris turned to Margaret and gave a bit of a shy (but wicked) smile. The smile spread over both her and Jasmine's lips. Margaret could tell they were laughing with Margaret as she smiled in embarrassment but she tried to ignore them and finish her story. "I opened his letter – more out of curiosity than anything else and was so annoyed that I nearly cried out loud several times before I had gotten through the first paragraph. Usually the letters make the suitors sound queer and acquired but the Don's letter only sounded cold and strange. It sounds paranoid but I could see the coldness in his eyes as I read! I keep getting worried that he will show up again. I can't believe I was even introduced to him: this has to be the work of my father or uncle. They both want to gain favor at court."

Iris reached over and playfully rubbed the blond girl's arm. "You're forgetting the other gentleman from last night. I saw you looking at him."
Margaret opened her mouth as if to protest but was interrupted again. "You are too cenacle!" She chided. "Maybe it is fate that let you both saw each other! The court doesn't control everything."

"You and Jasmine have seen how medalling the court can be." Iris's eyes glazed over has she thought about her past "engagements". According to Jasmine's father, her life was to be given for family honor. If the family needed a higher place at court, her life would be used to bargain that honor at court. "I am afraid to get my hopes up," explained Margaret to her saddened friends. "Besides, I don't even know if he saw me." Margaret looked down, feeling ashamed at even thinking the thoughts. She was so deep in her thoughts that she did not even realize the nobleman was standing in her doorway.

Chapter Nine:

The Night Carlos Made it Happen

Carlos waited until Marcus was asleep and then walked out, closing the door softly behind him. He shivered in the night air and quickly walked into a back ally where Anthony waited. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Sire" Carlos apologized as he shivered in his light jacket.

"You weren't followed were you?"

Carlos shook his head as Anthony nodded with approval. "You know what has to be done." Anthony motioned to a left where shadows morphed and shifted. Even in the light the object never came into view. "This is really just as a check point more than a briefing or meeting." The shadow continued to move closer in a threatening sway and brush of feet and arms.

Carlos had to resist the urge to run away from the hulking mass that got closer and closer. "Please," Carlos began as his eyes met Anthony's. "Do I really have to do all of this?"

"You knew what the deal was when you signed on. It is too late to go back now."

The giant shadow moved closer and closer. Carlos tried to fight natural instinct but he could not resist when the monster lunged at him. Self-preservation overcame his will power and Carlos could not stop himself as he ran and ran. He had some sense left within him: He ran away from his home. Leading the monster away from his son.

Part of Carlos's mind said, Now's your chance! Get out of this! The other part said, Just stand and let this happen. You agreed to it and whatever happens it is on your head…Do this for Marcus. Both sides of his mind screamed at him to do one thing: Protect Marcus and keep him out of this mess… He was only a child and he didn't need to deal with strange men who went to the courts! Parental instinct pulsated through him every time he had to meet Anthony when Marcus was present.

He knew that Marcus was afraid of Anthony and he understood why he was swinish. There was something selfish about Anthony. The man had neither family nor neighbors. Carlos had never met any of his business friends – only associates. There is something dangerous about a man who has nothing to loose.

Chapter Ten:

Margaret's Letter

The next morning Margaret went to her father's box has quickly as she could. The Barron's nephew had promised he would write her and she couldn't wait to see! She tried to warn herself that the court was still involved in these types of things. She shouldn't get her hopes up because she had little choice in the matter. Her father could be telling Anthony that he could have her hand in marriage at this moment. Her consent was not needed for the two men to sign a contract on her behalf.

Then again, he never did anything like that before – even with those annoying men from the western providences. They may have had power but they had no manners! She was shocked when she found a letter from the rued Frenchmen as she riled through the notes looking for something from the hostess of the party.

"I thought he would have gotten that I'm not falling for his game by now," Margaret mumbled in a frustrated voice. She quickly scratched out a blunt reply, trying to make her handwriting as bad as possible. She never finished reading the message he had written to her but that hardly mattered. She had been optimistic when the suitors first appeared – she read each letter that was sent to her in the beginning but quickly found that all the letters were the same.

She stopped reading them after about a year – why did she suddenly feel guilty about it now? She looked down at the letter in her hand and went over the words she had written in her head. Am I being too hard on him? She asked herself… Maybe it was time to be serious again. After all, if she didn't choose someone soon, her father would pick someone. She loved her father but lately it seemed like he knew nothing about her and she nothing about him. She couldn't imagine living with any man he would choose.

She quickly handed the letter to a footman to have it sent and walked into the courtyard before she could change her mind. She walked straight towards the garden – surely that would calm her. Looking at the daisies and the roses did help to brighten her mood but all the calming work they had done did not prepare her for her afternoon visitor: the rude Frenchmen, the author of the letter she had rejected.

He stood before her on the green with a servant at his side. "My Lady Margaret," began the servant cordially, "the Barron of LeMion is here to have tea with you." The servant escorted them to a room covered in rich fabrics and patters and quickly left to fetch the cart and biscuits, leaving the Barron and Margaret alone.

"I ahh… hope the weather finds you well," the Barron said lamely as he smiled at Margaret. Margaret smiled back and politely said, "And you also…" An awkward pause passed between them before Margaret continued, "Everyone in the house is doing quite well. The servants are all busy of course: preparing for the ball and all. I hope that everything is going as well in your own home?"

"Yes! Yes. Everyone is doing quite well." Again he paused with his mouth half open as if searching for words. She offered him a cup of tea when the cart came. He took a sip of the tea and thanked her before he continued: "I was hoping that you would honor me at the ball tonight and allow me to have the first dance." He stopped as if he were out of breath and looked up at her with strangely confidant eyes. She wanted to slap the look off his face. He was much too cocky – he had lost his breath so quickly but he made it sound like he had offered her the world.

"I apologize but I cannot. I have already promised my father the first dance."

"Than perhaps you would allow me the last?" He looked so saddened that Margaret had to give in. Her feelings went back and forth. One minute she hated him and the next second she felt sorry for the man with squinty puppy eyes. Still, she nodded a yes to his question and smiled, silently yelling at herself for agreeing at all. She walked with the Barron to the door and watched him go.

"Did that gentleman invite himself to tea?" Asked the butler… Margaret silently nodded in answer. That annoying man could be so rude! Why did she agree to dance with him? She silently kicked herself all the way through the preparations for the dance. She scowled even as her lady's maids placed jewels on her head.

At the ball that night, Margaret tried to stay close to Jasmine and Iris. She wanted the Barron to simply forget that she had given him a dance. Still, when he came in, the fist thing he did was walk up to her.

"Good evening, Lady Margaret."

Margaret smiled and returned his greeting. Iris and Jasmine stayed beside Margaret until the music began to play. Margaret danced with her father as she said she would. She was afraid that no other suitors would come and that she would be forced to dance with the Barron for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, the Don showed up and held her closer than was proper as they danced. This man may be even worse than the Barron. She tried to hide her raising dread when the Barron cut in for his one dance.

Chapter Eleven: Louis Waits in the Forest

Everything at the ball seemed to be going normal but things were quite different at the alley where Carlos stood. The shadow was on the ground and Carlos was sprinting in the opposite direction than the king, Louis himself was traveling towards the capital in his grand carriage. In truth, the king rarely left the palace but this was a special occasion. The kingdom was in grave danger from invaders from the outside:

A man stepped from the shadows then and Gregory had to remind himself not to jump in surprise. It was the king… Louis himself.

"I have chosen you for this mission because you are my bravest and most loyal men in the court. The Invaders are destroying my kingdom from within. I have been playing the fool for far too long. I need you and a foreign spy to find every city that is harboring Invaders and destroy it. If you fail the kingdom will fall. These traitors want war with us and they have convinced poor peasants that Bantor is at fault for all their problems." The king stopped and looked each man in the eye to make sure his message was sinking in.

"As a reminder to these horrible Invading monsters, I am ordering you to bring me their most prized possession. They have the deluded peasants rallying around an idol in hopes of turning them to their cause. If the treasure is taken, the peasants will see that supporting these Invaders was a mistake. A valuable treasure that they stole from all the cities and villages of men was locked away in one of their safe cities. They used all their wealth to buy a stone, blacker than the darkest night that is cut into the shape of a heart." The king gave a humorless laugh and explained. "The black heart is supposed to match that of their merciless leader, Intipo. My original plan was to take that stone so that the Invaders will never forget what happens when they attack Bantor! Unfortunately, spies have told me that the Invaders intend on stealing one of my treasures as well. It is not loot from some city they seek but my most valuable possession.

"I know this mission will be dangerous but in time of need you must take drastic measures. No matter what the end brings you will always be Bantor's heroes. You have risked your lives for her and her people countless times. Are you prepared to do so again?"

The Bantorian men stared at their king in shock. Being the men of the honor and pledging to protect a kingdom was one thing. Anyone could say the words but acting on those words was an entirely different matter. None of the men ever dreamed that he would be asked to attack numerous Invaders that had gained the support of the Bantorians around them with a flick of the hand and a stone. These Invaders had a larger army and more weapons as well as support from the kingdom that the Bantorian army was quickly loosing. Odds were obviously in the Invaders' favor…but who could say no to the king? Refusing the great king would land the offender a beheading for sure but fighting a large army still left a chance at not only survival but glory as well. Each the men knew what the men standing next to him would answer although each man answered for a different reason.

In unison the men answered, "We accept the call". The king gave a pleased smile and began to tell the men of their secret weapon: "The only way to find all of the cities that harbor these Invaders is to ask an Invader. They know where every harboring city and hiding knock is as if by instinct. Of course none of them will just come out and tell any Bantorian the location. We can't capture one and make them tell. The creatures lie even through torture and bribery. Still, we have a secret weapon that the enemy does not know about." The king's smile grew as a young man in pea-green silk suit came into the throne room. The Bantorian men instinctively drew their swords, ready to defend their king. Yet, the king said to them, "Put your swords away. Can you not see that this is the only man who can help us? His name is Don Anthony. He traveled to the castle of his own free will and volunteered to help us. He has told me of the plight that his own people forced on him and he wants nothing more than revenge. He is motivated and loyal to Bantor and has therefore agreed to offer his services to the kingdom. He is now as Bantorian as you or me."

Francis's face was dark red with barely controlled anger when he spoke to the king, his words filled with rage and regret: "Your Majesty, he is one of our kingdom's enemies." At these words, Don Anthony walked slowly out of the room with a small smile on his face. This is exactly what he had expected to happen! He could tell when he was not wanted but he had not expected the courtesans to defy the king so openly. He had the good since to leave if not the courage to defend his position. Although the Don left the room, he could tell that the men below were still talking about him. His small ears burned as he descended each of the many stairs that lead to the ground floor. Francis spoke all the more freely now that the Don has left. "Why would he not lead us into an ambush?"

Samuel jumped in to defend Francis's argument. He wanted to make sure the king knew that he didn't trust these Invaders or Dons and Anthony was no exception. "I see no reason to trust a human being that has turned on his own people." All the Bantorian men began to speak at once and although each used different wording, they were all saying the same thing: no Invader could be trusted.

The king said that he wanted to hear the men's opinions but he was not prepared to be questioned so! He did not approve of his men questioning his orders. He was the king and his word was law! He bellowed: "I chose Don Anthony and I trust him. I am king. My word is final!" My approval should be enough for you, the king thought to himself. Still, he continued speaking to the men in front of him. "He will join the court as an adviser and you will treat him as an equal." All ten of the Bantorian men looked down in shame. They were surprised at the king's words but they also knew that they could not argue.

"I apologize, Sire," said Francis slowly. "I cannot say that I trust the guide but I know I can trust your judgment." Francis paused and looked at the other Bantorian men. "If you trust the guide then I know that I can also trust him."

The king smiled at hearing Francis's response. Loyalty like Francis's was hard to find. It was a rare trait that must be rewarded. "Francis, you have shown the enormous quality of your character. I am glad I can expect such loyalty from a soldier of your merit... You are now captain of the Bantorian men." The king smiled at Francis as all the other Bantorian men frowned. All four of them were thinking the same thing: Don Anthony was coming with them.

The next morning, the men and the Don set out to see who the traitors were while the king addressed the people:

"People of Bantor, our kingdom have been surrounded by violence from attacking Invaders. The foul savages attack our neighbors and friends. Some of you came to defend them only to be attacked yourselves. I have tried to make peace with the Invaders but none of my attempts have worked. I refuse to stand by while the kingdom suffers. The kingdom's best men and I are working together to stop this crisis. I know that these times have been trying for you. So, by royal decree, tomorrow shall be a day of feast and rest." The crowd cheered and waved their hands in the air.

The king met with the noble men after he silently left the feast. "The treasure you are searching for must remain a secret. The creatures will move it and maybe even destroy it if they find out we are trying to steal it." The four men nodded and silently left the room one at a time.

The Don and the men met in the dense forest led them into the forest at the far side of the kingdom. The Bantorians walked behind the Don in silence through the woods. Their eyes scanned each bush and tree, looking for the pair of eyes each man felt was watching him. All though the feeling of unease was strong, no intruder or spy could be found.

At sundown camp was made and the Don began to spred the rumor that Gregory was not of noble blood and that he was the spy the king was looking for. The two nobles in the group automatically distrusted him and their distrust of Gregory grew, as the sky got turned black and darkness set in. "Francis," John whispered. "Should we not post a guard to make sure the spy does not come to us while we sleep? The spy could be among us for all we know."

Samuel nodded and turned to Francis for confirmation but Francis remembered the king's words and said, "We do not need to fear one of our own. If he wanted to harm us he would have done so already..." The other men looked at Francis with shock and something close to betrayal in their eyes. They each looked defeated and saddened. Francis knew that he could not let the conversation end there. "But it would do no harm to have a watch."

"I can take the first watch," said John eagerly. Francis looked at Gregory and then to John. Maybe the others were right after all.

"If anything happens wake us all. We are not sure who the enemy really is." Francis ordered.

With this fearsome thought trapped in their heads everyone but John lay down and slept. After about five hours of watching the empty night John began to nod off. He slept fitfully until something rustled in the bushes and woke him!

John opened his mouth to yell but a large hand covered it before he could make a sound. John panicked and began to struggle but quickly stopped with a surge of relief he realized that the hand had no claws or fur. The hand could not belong to a Monster. Relief washed over him but the relaxing feeling did not last long.

"You're a stranger in this land, are you not?" Asked a deep voice from the tall figure. John nodded his head, trying to be as cooperative as possible. He didn't want to be killed by this towering form of a man. Still, he could not think of anything to do but run. Little did he know that Carlos was in the same predicament.

BACK TO CARLOS

"You can't hide," roared a voice that Carlos didn't recognize but knew must belong to the monster. The intensity of the call only made Carlos ran harder. He knew that the thing was right to take him but he also knew that he couldn't give up for his son. Marcus was still too young to be on his own. He was terrified of the dark alleyways (a fear that his father had ensued in him to keep him away from men like Anthony) and he was not strong enough to work in the shops.

Carlos remembered his first job. The foreman told him to lift heavy sacks of sand and carry them to the golems on the second level. The first half of the day was not very hard… Sure, the sacks were heavy but no one really noticed until the second part of the day. Everyone felt the weight of the sacks then. The foremen were reminding everyone that today's quota was not yet matched. If three days passed without a change in production, the salary would have to take the loss in profit. People scrambled here and there to get the last of the work done. Small and hunched over boys – like Carlos were nearly trampled in the mass chaos and confusion. No one seemed to look down! Everyday was terrifying. He got the job when he was only 13 but he was expected to do the work of a full-grown man.

Carlos knew that his son could do the work but he did not want his son to have to do the work. He wanted to give Marcus a childhood. Carlos was proud to say that he had worked so that Marcus would not only be able to go to school and to play but so that he could also get a real job. Carlos thought of his son in a deskman's outfit and with food on his table. This thought brought peace in Carlos's heart and allowed him to stand still while the shadow monster got closer and closer… and eventually took Carlos.

Carlos knew that Anthony would see to it that Marcus got the money that was due to him. After all, the Don was said to be a friend of the people. France needed a friend and Carlos knew that they could not be found in court. The powered wigs in the halls of government wanted nothing but more power for themselves. They were a selfish bunch! No one there cared about the peasants or their troubles! Soon… very soon… the idiots in Louis' court would see that power did not come from money, land, or titles… It came in numbers and the people had numbers on their side. Even as the monster ate him, Carlos was sure of victory and confidant that his son would know a better world.

Don Anthony smiled and knew he had made the right choice in asking Carlos to do this task. The man trusted him with everything. As soon as the Don swore that Carlos's son would be saved from the violence of revolution and the want of poverty, Carlos was willing to do anything. The Don wasn't really sure he liked Carlos but he was a man of his word, so he would keep the boy, Marcus, safe. It seemed like a small sacrifice to make for such triumph!

Anthony saw horror before him but it only made him think of the wonder of the horror that would come to the nobles and the fool king. Everything is going according to plan. There are only a few steps left before Louis will fall to his knees and the court to chaos.

The moment the monster's jaws closed in around Carlos, Anthony knew that France, and all the fine country had to offer, would soon be his! Anthony looked up at the picture he was order to hang of the king.

Soon, Louis. Soon…