Blood of Quartz

Chapter 19

"Dammit!"

Abigail entered the dining room off the main hall and flinched as her uncle threw a cup at the wall. He looked madder than she had ever seen him, and perhaps a bit drunk. Something had happened today as the Duke had inspected the troops. He had been silent and withdrawn through dinner, the tension in the dining room thick. Even her great-aunt had left dinner early, wanting no part in "whatever storm they had brewed up" she had muttered that as she left, her servants trailing behind her. Abigail had brought her up some pork soup, since she had not had a chance to have some. She had left it with the woman who answered the door, and as she left, she heard her great-aunt ordering her to bring it at once.

She would have to ask her if she knew what was happening. She always knew.

"What is it, uncle?" she asked as he turned, hearing her feet on the floor. He grimaced and his shoulders dropped.

"Politics, Abigail. None of your concern."

"Uncle. Please. Let me lend you an ear that has no agenda," she replied, pleading. Truly she wanted to know why, after the Duke had passed Erik and his friends, they had been stone faced and stiff, to a man. Orrick had been strained as well. This had to have something to do with them.

"Fine, fine. Here it is. The Duke has gone and conscripted Erik into the King's Guard. I had arranged for him, and his men, to be your guard to Kirkam House, then go home for winter. That devil of a man has, in his way, taken revenge on Orrick by sentencing his son to a life of soldiering. I had hoped—"

Abigail's stomach dropped as her uncle made a frustrated noise and paced across the room towards her, then back. Sadness enveloped her. Erik was no more a soldier than she was! This had to be a terrible weight on Orrick, as well as her new cousin. To be sentenced to never going home, and sailing off to Gods knew where, or stuck in tedium at the palace in Bethune... What a terrible turn of events.

"Perhaps he will prove incapable of soldiering and they will dismiss him?"

Her uncle shook his head and smiled ruefully. "You are always so positive, my dear. No. He'll be kept close and if he doesn't soldier, he'll become support for the guards or some such nonsense. Richmond, that fat bastard, is stubborn in things like this, and his sway as Duke is absolute. I am quite sure Orrick will be sent back overseas now. He won't be allowed to remain in Bethune, likely nowhere near his son at least."

"I'm sorry, uncle. Is there nothing we can do?" she asked, picking up the cup he had thrown, setting it gently on the table near her, thumbing the dent in the metal that shone through the dull patina on the edge. Her uncle had promised they could go home, and now they couldn't. All because of some family slight, years and years ago. Abigail hated politics, and this was why. They had never harmed anyone, and Erik, of all people hadn't even known until a few days before, and had no part of what his father had done.

"No, there isn't," her uncle said flatly, and then sighed heavily, filling another cup with what looked to be ale. "What a stressful few days this has been. I'm sorry, Abigail, I should not burden you with this."

"Not a burden," she said, restless. She wanted to see Erik, suddenly, and find out what was to happen.

"Where are the King's Guard staying?" she asked. "I should ensure they have adequate straw for their new guests. I assume he has already been sent to them?"

Her uncle looked at her with confusion, then sighed again "In the east apartments. The Duke wanted them close to the keep."

Abigail nodded silently and ran out the door, and down the hall. Mouse was safely asleep upstairs with some of the women, so she had time. If she was to travel back to Kirkam House soon, perhaps she could do so in the Duke's company, and then she could persuade him to rethink having Erik join his father. He had been nice enough towards her, had he not?