Secrets - Book 7 - The Frencolian Chronicles (complete)

Chapter 23

The atmosphere in the dim throne room of Kings Castle was like that of a mausoleum.

Prince Dorai, one of the first to arrive in the Frencolian throne room, wondered if someone had died. It was obvious that whatever troubled his nephew was a matter of dire circumstance —and just where was he?

"Where is our king?" he demanded. No one answered.

"This is out of hand —irresponsible," he complained, more to himself than to those few around him. Turning to the knight who accompanied him, he said, "Find our king. Take as many as you need. Do what you must, just keep me informed. He summoned us; he should be here to inform us why! —Pulling me out of bed, how rude... I'm losing patience with him..."

The hour Sabin predicted was up and the throne room became crowded. Not only were knights and senior knights there but captains as well as large numbers of guards who were not on duty —and some who were— had entered the reception hall seeking admission.

Like the pre-dawn hour on a normal day, Frencberg rose into life with the lighting of lamps, candles and torches, all which would be extinguished at the first glimmer of imminent sunrise. The clatter of equine hooves sounded out earlier than usual, followed by foot traffic; people who, having heard the news that the king was summoning anyone and everyone of importance to his throne room.

Few people remained in their beds as the news circulated further that something grave was afoot and would be announced by King Luke Chatelain.

Lord Farey who always rose at the first shafts of dawn, had previously commanded his staff to rouse him if there were any kind of emergency in the city or country. When his aide came to check if he was awake, the alert lord sent for his valet to help him dress. "And send Linas to prepare that... seat thing, I'll go in that and see if it was worth the space it takes to house it in..."

"Yes, the sedan, Your Grace. I'm sure you'll find it most comfortable; it will be quicker than a horse, too; you'll find this to be true, Your Grace. It can be maneuvered through the narrower lanes right through the middle of the city. I'll send for Parkin and Fredric to dress and transport you."

~~~~~

Princess Minette paced in the corridor outside the library. Granville had warned her not to ask again to enter the library, "King's orders!" he repeated.

"I have to speak with King Luke," she insisted again, adding this time, "he is my nephew, I am his aunt and do have the right to speak with him, Granville, please!"

"Sorry, Princess, but our king said he won't speak with anyone until he sits on his throne!" Loran affirmed.

"Even if it is a matter of life or death?" Minette asked.

"It depends upon whose life or whose death you're talking about," Granville said, his voice low. He took two steps closer to the princess, staring deep into her eyes.

Sabin arrived at the top of the step way, panting, carrying the velvet bag containing Luke's crown, calling, "Treacherous Frencolian guards have banded and are searching for King Luke! Is he in the library?"

Before anyone could reply, a commotion sounded out from the floor beneath, swords clashing, thumps and shouts. Boots on stone steps grew louder as did clashes of swords, the fracas moving up the nearest stone step way now. Sword-waving and spear-pointing armored knights and soldiers turned towards them as Loran shouted, "Into the library! Quickly! We must bar the door!"

Minette, grasped by Granville and Sabin and pulled into the safety of the library, ran further in, turning to watch.

Handing his spear to Granville, Loran slammed the door behind him, bolting it, top and bottom. "Where's the key?"