After the saltwater immersion was attempted King Hydralad became less respondent and even weaker as I feared.
I was on the verge of yielding to the overwhelming fact that we had failed and the death of the Isoloyian king was sure to follow.
A day passed in this grieving conviction, where he laid seemingly at the very gates of eternity that were ever opening wider to receive him.
So silent were the halls of the Agmar castle that I believed I could feel the fingers and breath of death, preying upon us in search of the wounded Vez-Dûns.
But when the soft rays of the summer sun shed itself over the morning dew, and I looked in upon Hyndralad the next morning, I was surprised to see that contrary to the lifeless coma he had been entrapped in, his eyes were open, and upon greeting him found him alert enough to answer me.
His physician spoke the words that I had so been longing to hear: the king had traveled through the worst of it, and we could now expect his recovery.
I let out a breath.
Such a weight left me as though I had been holding my breath the entire duration.
Thank You, Lord!
And I raced to wake Lennox.
From there the king of Isoloyia's recovery took flight like a caged bird with it's first chance at freedom.
The fire returned to his eye's and color was restored to his death-like complexion.
Being blessed with a strong constitution, it did not take long before he was able to leave his room, and many days passed in which we kept Hyndralad company as he rested in the shade of Agmar's palace garden.
We as in Countess Meredith, Adam Saft and some of Agmar's nobles and myself but not Lennox.
He remained withdrawn and his mood dark and brooding, though I knew he must have long been released of a much stronger stress than the one I endured while the victim lay sick.
No, it was something else that bothered him now.
And once my mind had been cleared of anxiety, I remembered what I still needed explained.
I found him back in the library, slumped in a high-backed chair and looking up at seemingly nothing.
“It took you longer than I expected, sister,” said he, as I approached.
“I suppose you will want a full explanation of Edward's death...death, that word has haunted my thoughts for too long.”
The last part he muttered more to himself than to me.
I took a seat opposite him, noticing as he turned to me the even darker circles around his eyes – hollow eyes with only weariness to set them apart from a carven, inanimate statue.
Why, he did not look much better than Hyndralad in his wounded state!
“The astrologers separated Edward, Hyndralad and I from the rest of our men, the night of our raid, and we barricaded ourselves into one of the underground chambers to protect ourselves.
“The astrologers were relentless and banged against the door with a battering ram. It would not be too long before they would breach it so we were left with no choice but to fight as best we could once they entered.
“With only three against a whole number of men, we all knew our chances of survival were slim. Hyndralad and I were prepared for this but our young cousin, with the pounding at the door filling his ears, became frantic and searched desperately for an alternative.
“He picked up an astrologer scroll of spells that lay on the floor and said that we should use it against them. I tried to convince him not to, saying that it was evil and that it were better to die than sell our soul to the devil, but Edward was determined.”
Lennox paused, and his eyes returned to the ceiling, idly.
“Despite Hyndralad and I arguing with him, he opened the scroll and began to read. I wrestled him for control of the scroll, and as his hand waved about trying to keep it out of my reach Hyndralad snatched it and threw it into the burning fire of the brazier that hung to the side of the room.
“Edward exploded and drew his sword, but as he was not as experienced as I, it did not take long to disarm him. He stood, huffing and puffing and red with fury at being beaten, until his eyes darted to the floor.
“Before I could foresee his intentions, he picked up a fallen astrologer shuriken and flung it into Hyndralad's chest – the same poisoned blade that nearly took his life.
“I forgot to mention that there was a chasm at the very back of the cave, dropping hundreds of feet into a rocky river.”
He paused for a moment, blinking several times as if to remove the memories replaying, for I know not how many times, in his mind.
“Wounding Hyndralad in this treacherous manner enraged me beyond self-control, and I lifted and dangled him over the chasm. Such were the wickedness of my thoughts streaking through my mind at that moment, that I contemplated dropping him. But I realized before it was too late that I was not any better than he – I was letting anger take control of me.
“Hyndralad groaned on the floor behind me, and I set Edward down forcefully and ran to his side. He was bleeding tremendously. I started to tend to him when I heard a sliding and crashing sound.
“I saw a glimpse of our cousin as the ground gave way beneath his feet and he fell to his doom...”
His voice trailed off, and I wiped the tears forming in my eyes.
“Oh, Lennox!”
He laid his head in his right hand, a pitiful hunkered form of a man, and exhaled long and wearily.
“That is not all, though. When I relayed the news of his son's death to Uncle Reycko I am afraid some harsh words were spoken on both sides which resulted in him forbidding me ever to enter Fyros and myself by giving the command for Lord Carvin to withdraw any protection from his kingdom.”
Forbidding his own nephew was so very severe as was the measures Lennox took in retaliation that it grieved my heart that their relationship was so delicate and rocky.
He was our only uncle yet past actions had severed any good feelings and cultivated bitterness in my brother.
True, I was hurt, but the actions had not affected me as acutely as it had Lennox.
“Go ahead and rebuke me with your harshest words. Or better yet I will present my face for you to strike – it will be nothing I do not deserve.”
Yes, he was partly to blame for Edward's death, but I would not punish him; it was not my responsibility and he was punishing himself enough I could plainly see.
Punishment when self-inflicted was the cruelest form of all for a penitent person, and he was tearing himself apart.
I dropped to my knees beside his chair and clasped his left hand with mine.
“Edward was not innocent. He was responsible for his actions as you were for yours, and you cannot blame yourself for what happened.”
I looked up at him. “There is a time when you need to let it go and move on.”
-Emerald de Gavrilla
Queen of Krespania
