(This is a long sad chapter...Tagiet is a Gaulish term of greeting, btw.)

Chapter 36: Sorrow

"You had a mud fight?" asked Rose again.

"Lance just said that," said Conrad rubbing his wet hair.

We were sitting alone, just the three of us, at the fire, and had just gotten back from have a swimming party with the boys and Ana Maylin down at a nearby river. We had had nearly as much fun as when we had the mud ball fight, only we got very clean and I felt like a prune for staying in water for so long.

However, there was a punishment before. We had to pick three baskets each; order from the head honcho, Wilhem. We weren't allowed to eat any, but we didn't care. We were too busy having laughing fits to eat. We probably would have choked. With Ana Maylin's help we finished up quick and raced for the river.

"YOU HAD A MUD FIGHT?"

We stopped and looked at each other.

"She's deaf," stated Conrad and continued rubbing his head.

I shrugged in agreement and continued stoking the fire.

"I am not deaf," growled Rose.

"Then take this and swallow it up quick," I retorted. "Conrad, I and the boys of the Justice family along with Ana Maylin had the biggest mud fight in h-i-s-t-o-r-y." I said the last word slowly and distinctly. "Do you want some more chicken, Rose?"

Her face brightened and the mud incident scowl left her face. "Yeah! I do! That Frieda can sure cook." Shows how much she cares about what we do.

Conrad nodded in agreement as he chomped down on a leg. The juice ran down his chin and Rose scolded his lack of cleanliness. That got them into an argument, as usual.

My mood suddenly dropped as I looked around the camp of Justice. The moms were cleaning up the kids and dishes and the men were settling down by the fire, ready with tales and discussions, some filling their pipes, others taking out a carving project for one of their kids, or wife. The kids were trying to squeeze a few moments of play before doing evening chores and being sent away from the fire to bed.

The sun had begun to get comfortable in the east and was spreading it's colors into the sky. Birds were giving good nights to each other and crickets began to venture out. The horses could be heard snorting irritably, probably trying to get comfortable, and the colts were finally winding down.

"What are we doing here?" I suddenly asked.

Rose and Conrad stopped chattering. Their argument had turned into a real conversation, as usual and had snipped me out of the picture.

"We're talking," said Rose matter-of-factly.

"No, I'm serious. Why are we here at Minerva's home? We have given her to her family, and we have delivered Hazel's message. Why should we stay any longer?"

They considered this. It was a good question and they didn't know how to answer. We were all thinking the same thing though. We liked it here. We were comfortable and had fun, but we couldn't bear the thought of staying here when Minerva was suffering.

Well, I couldn't bear the thought. I felt very guilty all of a sudden. I had played with the kids and had eaten the food with relish, while Minerva was dying, because of me. I sighed and shook my head. Why was I doing this? I had no right to be here. I was mocking them, I had hurt their daughter, captured their country and was now entertaining myself in their camp.

Ach!...and had even copied their language.

I stood up, my appetite gone, and I walked away.

I could almost see Conrad and Rose exchanging worried or confused looks, then shrugging and continuing on with their heated conversation.

The horses lifted their heads in acknowledgement to me as I approached and then tried again to sleep. Ares however trotted away from his comfortable bed next to a young mare and approached me with a soft neigh as if asking, "Why so down?"

I rubbed his nose carelessly as he nudged me for carrots, or sugar, or an answer. I only let him have the answer, which I don't think he appreciated as much as he would food.

"Why am I here, Ares? I don't belong here. I'm the evil Prince of Adelfos, not the mysterious Rashling who saved Minerva of the Justice family. So why do they treat me like I am?"

Ares actually rolled his eyes in irritation. Then he snorted and as if to say, "Spit out the rest."

"I really, really like these, people, but I think it's time for us to move on. But I still feel so guilty for dropping their practically dead daughter off and saying toodles, thanks for the fun. That doesn't seem right. But I most certainly can not stay here and watch her die. That would be, unbearable. Maybe I should..."

I stopped and shook my head. I still felt nothing for the girl. I swear, I didn't love her, so don't get your hopes up. She was Minerva and a Gaul, I was Lance and a Prince. We were too different, and well, this time opposites didn't entirely attract. Why, why did she have to fall in love with me? Ugh. Girls make things so much more complicated. If there were no girls, life would be simple and perfect.

I sighed. I hated wishing in vain.

"Do the horses give you comfort, Rashling?"

Grandmother Hazel strode up to my side, she was dressed in black and a serious look was on her face.

"Because you need a lot of comfort now."

I was sure something had happened to Minerva, and I tried to gulp down my guilt but I just nearly choked on it as I said, "Why? What has happened?"

Instead of answering like a good granny she stroked Ares' forehead and gave him a lump of sugar. He took it gratefully and glared at me.

Glared? My horse did not just glare. I needed to get to bed.

When the old woman finally decided to talk, it was not what I expected, as usual, "You have a very fine horse, Rashling. I don't think I have seen a better. Such royalty in his eye and such nobility."

"He came from Gaul," I said absently. "Of course he's cool."

"It was the horse that gave your identity away, King Lance of Adelfos."

I looked at her sharply.

Mind reader or not she was not supposed to know this bit of information.

And King? I didn't look that old.

"None is allowed to ride the horse from Gaul unless he is part of the royal family. This is one of the reasons I was so honored to have you, the brave, kind Rashling of Kadok, the savior of my precious daughter, and the King of my little country, here with us for these days."

I shuffled a bit, embarrassed. "You understand that I am only the Prince of Adelfos, yes?"

"Nay, you are King of Adelfos, Gaul, Cetbal, Rebezonia, and Onu. Well, you are going to be as soon as you return to your castle and are crowned one. Your father, Rashling, he is dead."

"Dead!" I cried in dismay. "How do you know? When did this happen?"

"A rider from the south has just gone through camp, spreading the terrible news. I'm sorry. Now it is time for you to return to your castle."

Duh.

"How did it happen?" I knew Father had been sick for a long time, but didn't expect him to die for another four or five years, enough time to get me settled into my future position.

"I don't know why. But the rider hinted that due to the fact that you were missing, weighed down on the King's mind and he could not hold it. There might have been other things, but his death was the result of this and his health."

Dead.

The reality of it finally kicked in and it struck with such force I staggered back.

Father was dead.

Because of me! This couldn't be happening. I was the biggest source of calamities in the world! Robina had broken a leg, served her right, but still..., the T clan was probably arguing and fighting because of my advice, the giants were sad because I was gone and couldn't speak their language, Kadok had been in trouble because I had been to stupid to see that the son was a dork and destroying my people, Minerva was practically dead because I was so hard hearted, and my father was dead because I had run away from a wench!

Shoot me dead, I was a pest!

"I'm sorry this had to come so harshly, young King," said Grandmother Hazel.

Sorry? Sorry wouldn't do anything for me. It wouldn't even soothe the pain and fact that I was a monster. It was only a pathetic saying humans used to get out of a sticky situation. I didn't like that phrase. I had used it on Minerva, and she was dying in her bed, I had said I'm sorry to Anastasia and later she cheered the guy who was trying to kill me.

I needed a hug.

(darn line button...)

Anastasia flipped her filthy hair from her shoulders and let her hands fall from her hips. She let the angry, loud mood pass over and instead put on an innocent smile.

"But sir, wouldn't the Prince, who is I know, a gentleman, treat us with honor and kindness? I know he would at least let us clean ourselves and have a room to ourselves. Why do you treat us like dogs rather than human beings?"

Hans smirked. Because you act like dogs maybe.

Still the girl had a point. He nodded to his men and said, "Let them wash, we don't want to contaminate Rashling's home, whether he be Prince or peasant, he still shouldn't have a wormy home. But guard them both, we won't take any chances."

Anastasia blanched and reddened at the same time. Her fiery temper came back. "You most certainly will not guard me! If you even think...!"

Hans laughed. "You are a dumb one, aren't you? Do you think me so dishonorable as to have you bathe guarded by men? Even if I ordered it my men wouldn't do it. Then again you don't understand. Let me tell you this, princess if I simply say that I am captain of Lord Florian the Wise of Kadok, then I will have flocks of women who will be more than happy to endure your obnoxiousness and guard you while you bathe. They are strong, and know how to use a weapon, if needed. You will be guarded, wench, and that is that."

The princess didn't know whether to whiten with fear, grimace with disgust, or scowl. In the end she did all and made a very ugly face. Hans laughed again and motioned to two women standing in the tavern.

"Take this wench and wash her up well. She must look like a human when you are done. You two take her...comrade and make sure he doesn't try anything. If the wench is dangerous, he's a total monster. Then put them in separate rooms next to each other and take turns guarding them. Also set a post outside the window. We take no chances. Abe, Dick, Ned, you three take the first watch."

Anastasia controlled her anger and glowered menacingly at Hans, but he just smiled and walked away. She looked to Eric for reassurance, but like before he didn't even comprehend she was there. He just let himself be led away, with a vacant look in his eyes. He didn't care anymore. Not for himself, and certainly not for the wench that had led him on a failed mission.

The Princess was beginning to wonder at this and began to see this fact, although she dreaded it. She wanted desperately to believe that Eric still loved her. He had always loved her, right? Of course he had. Remember those sweet words and gentle caresses. He may have use to have some other lady friends, like that wench, Minerva, but he had forgotten them and only cared for her.

He had said he wanted to marry her, to follow her to the end of the world. Wasn't this love? Of course it was. They had even planned for the future. She had said she wanted two kids. One a boy named Eric. And he had wanted a girl named Ana. Not Anastasia. But Ana. Wasn't this love?

So why was she doubting?

(line...)

Queen Karina sat motionless in her satin chair. On the desk lay papers, unsigned, a pile of letters, unopened, a hundred knocks at the door remained, unanswered. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should be busy, hurrying about taking care of things, but she couldn't. She couldn't move, could hardly think of anything other than one pounding horrible thought.

Augustine was dead.

Her king and dear, dear husband had suddenly, yet finally, passed on. She knew it would happen and had thought she was prepared, but she wasn't. She wasn't ready for the tide of grief that had been sweeping over her time and time again throughout the past few days since the funeral. She had gone dutifully to the gravesite and had somehow managed to control her emotions, but she had left half of her heart buried in the cold autumn ground.

There was a knock at the door, but she paid no attention until it opened and someone slipped in. She looked up, expecting to see a naughty servant; but her eyes met that of her daughter's, Carrie.

Her eyes were red from fresh crying. She hurried over to her mother's side and knelt at her knee, the tears starting again.

"Mother," she whispered.

Like a machine, Karina stroked her daughter's soft brown hair with a shaky hand. "It's all right," she said, even though she didn't mean it. "It's all right. Your father is at a better place and Lance will return...shortly."

Carrie shook her head. "It's not that, Mother. It's...it's...Jesse. He...he is...dead. The fall from the horse was too great on him. Father was right. He couldn't hold it and has just died. I'm so sorry. I'm..."

At this point Carrie burst into sobs again.

Queen Karina stiffened as soon as she heard the dreaded word, dead. She stood, her eyes seeing nothing as a thousand thoughts raced to her head. She gave one loud wail then collapsed to the floor, utterly unconscious.