Chapter 26
Throk knocked on the thick wooden door leading to Lars's study. There was a brief shout of 'Enter' and the knight pushed the door open. It creaked slightly and as he saw Lars sitting behind his desk he was beckoned over. The man was reading a parchment while a red Terrible Terror slept soundly on a perch.
"Is that from our spy?" Throk asked with a frown.
"Yes, the Golden Eagle. Quite a remarkable fellow," the prince commented. "He's one of ours yet even I don't know his name or face. Still he gets the job done."
"Is that his latest report?" Throk asked with a frown. Lars merely handed it over as he watched the knight.
"The King is dead and the Princess has been arrested," Throk let out a breath of surprise. He then looked up at Larse who was leisurely leaning back in his chair. "What are you going to do about this?"
"Do about what?" Lars smirked.
"This," Throk said as he hit the parchment with the back of his gloved hand. "Surely we cannot leave the Princess to rot in jail."
"We aren't. I already sent a reply back to Eagle to take care of the situation." He stated as his eyes narrowed.
"Take care of the….." Throk exclaimed as he knew what it meant. "Surely you didn't! Lars for Thor's sake tell me you didn't!"
"So what if I did?" Lars harrumphed. "The only reason I am telling you my plans is because you are my childhood friend. You are one of the people I trust implicitly." The man stood up and laid a hand on Throk's shoulder.
"And what of the Princess?! You trusted her with your plans! She believed in you!"
"That naive fool," Lars laughed. "She was just a means to an end. I got rid of her the same way as I did Hans and my 10th brother."
"She didn't even want to rule!" Throk exclaimed as he tried to reason with Lars. "Surely there is no need to order her death!"
"Of course there is!" Lars stopped and turned sharply, grabbing Throk's collar and pulling him close. "She is a child of THAT woman! You know how I feel about that… that abomination! Any child of hers will suffer at my hands!"
"Lars….. When will you let it go?" Throk asked as he stared at his friend sadly.
"I could ask the same of you, you poor naive fool," Lars hissed as he let go of the knight's collar. "You were sweet on Margarette and objected to her arranged marriage but if only you knew the schemes going on in her pretty little head you'd be thanking me." He patted Throk's left cheek. "She was just like her filthy whore of a mother."
Throk didn't know what to say in response as his childhood friend turned on his heels and walked out of the study, beckoning him to follow. They walked in silence down the dimly lit stairs and they finally stopped when they reached the dungeons. Lars took the heavy ring of keys from the warden on duty and let himself and Throk inside the castle prisons. The cells were dark and drafty and prisoners moaned to either let them die or set them free. It was a depressing place. The torches only provided so much light as they neared the back of the prison.
"Lars…." Throk said in a short whisper as he looked at the disheveled and beaten up woman in one of the cells chained to the wall. She was in rags, her once luscious hair was chopped short and she was sporting strangulation marks around her neck. Her eyes had lost any luster it possessed and her lips were chapped. Still Throk would recognize the Queen anywhere.
"Pitiful creature isn't she. Ignore her," Lars said as he instead walked to the cells opposite of her wherein one a Gronkle was chained up tightly and in the other another woman sat on the damp ground. But this woman had a defiant look in her eyes as she peered at the men in front of her cell.
"Lars I really must protest! She's the Queen and your stepmother!" Throk tried to reason as he grabbed the prince by the arm. His hand was promptly shaken off as a cold look appeared in Lars's eyes.
"That thing is not my mother! I've never considered her family!" Lars hissed dangerously and Throk knew he was walking a fine line here. "My mother is long since buried. She's just a harlot that wormed her way into the Palace and destroyed my chances of succession!"
"But with the King dead she is the next rightful Ruler!" Throk insisted. "You can't just imprison her here forever."
"Oh, it won't be forever," Lars smirked. "She's set to hang the day after tomorrow. Then I will be the one and only Ruler."
Throk shook from the revelation and then stared at the cold look in the prince's eyes. "Your brothers….. They will surely object." Here Lars let out a bone-chilling laugh before uttering "After tonight I will have no opposition." a cold wave of anxiety spread up Throk's spine as he realized the implication the prince was making. Something must be happening to the other princes tonight and that something wasn't good.
"Enough of that talk," Lars changed the subject with a wave of his hand and then gestured towards the defiant-looking woman in the cell. "I'm sure you recognize her," He commented offhandedly as he used the heavy brass key to open the cell door. "Griselda, she was the Queen's handmaid."
The men stepped into the cell while the woman watched them with fury in her eyes. Lars grabbed her chin and craned her head forcefully up. "She's a Berkian spy. A very conveniently placed Berkian spy. But she was caught trying to smuggle the dragon out." The prince said as the woman spat at him. He slapped her in the face after wiping off the spit. "Insolent cur," He growled at the woman.
The prince stood up and then turned to Throk "Kill her," he ordered. Throk couldn't disobey an order from his superior and thus he drew his sword and walked towards the women.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," The knight said.
"I don't need your pity. Kill me and be done with it! Berk won't stand for this!" She growled but Lars who was standing behind Throk merely laughed hysterically and said "In a few days there won't be a Berk!"
Throk used his sword and made the woman's death quick. He wasn't one to make others suffer and only did as he was commanded. As blood was spilled against the cold stone of the prison Lars placed a hand on Throk's shoulder and muttered "Come my friend. We have much to discuss. Your loyalty will be rewarded." Throk said nothing but he silently followed after the prince. There were some conflicting emotions as he cast one last look at the fallen Queen before the prison laid behind them.
The Council room was in an uproar as Ministers shouted questions, wanting to know more. "Order!" Stoick banged his fist on the wooden armrest. He banged it again when some didn't settle down. When everything was quiet he turned to the knight that still stood on the podium. Stoick tapped his finger on the armrest for a moment, clearly unsettled by one of their agents dying but it seemed he would not blame the knight for following orders from a superior.
"What more do you have to tell us? Besides the fact that we have a spy in our midst." Stoick asked and all eyes turned back to Throk.
"Lars's armada has probably already set sail for Berkian waters. This entire island will be engulfed in war in a day or so." There was more chatter and panic as the Ministers realized that there wasn't enough time to mobilize their fleet.
Stoick ordered a guard to get Gobber and Captain Heather and appraise them of the situation. The King knew that their defenses would be raised immediately once the danger of the opposing fleet became clear. Neither King Stoick nor Queen Valka seemed very worried upon hearing about the encroaching armada and this boosted some of the morale within the Council chamber and when Stoick indicated with his hand the woman who had stood silently during Throk's tale to stepped forward.
"We still have time before a war council is called." Stoick said as he indicated for the woman to tell her story.
"I am former Queen Mariabelle, late wife of King Edward of the Southern Isles. I have come to seek political asylum and any aid you are willing to give upon hearing my story." The woman finally lifted her head for the Council to see her battered face and even Alvin who had been glaring at her previously sucked in a breath.
"Proceed please," Stoick said as silence reigned through the room.
AN:
Harry: "Have you seen the Porg?"
Vala: "No, why?"
Harry: (Looking skeptically at Vala) "You tried to stick a fork in him just this morning,"
Vala: "But it's afternoon now... you already checked the oven didn't you."
Harry: "Yup"
Vala: "Maybe the Porg is down at the pub. I hear they installed a pole."
Harry: "You don't think..."
Vala: "It's your Porg. I just try to eat it."
Harry: "If that bird is dancing to ABBA songs on a pole AGAIN I'll fry him myself!"
Vala: "Did you have to give me that mental image?!... and can I get a drumstick then?"
Harry: "NO!"