Upon A Time

Chapter Three

Hours later, Charlotte still tried to fathom that the kingdom had been forever changed, and by such violence within.

“This is why I ask you not to go walking in the forest alone.” Thomas poked a fork at his piece of pie, but couldn’t bring himself to eat it. He set the plate aside. “Robbers are a real danger these days, to one and all. Even, it seems, the very strongest among us.”

“They were a much more desirable target than I would ever be,” Charlotte replied. “One must have something of value to be of interest to a robber. Otherwise, they are merely a witness to events that most robbers would not want.”

“But you are a woman,” Thomas protested, wincing even as he saw the fire flare in Charlotte’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, but I speak only the truth. You are a young maid of clear…um…” he stammered suddenly. “You are a young maid. That makes you target enough for men without honor.”

“Not of much interest to men of honor, it seems,” Charlotte mumbled, stoking the fire beneath a large pot of hearty stew that boiled away upon it.

Thomas opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it again, and then seemed eager to redirect their conversation. “Supper is late tonight? I hadn’t realized when you served me dessert that you had not yet taken it.”

“It is of no concern, Thomas. Father had a late call, and Mother retired to bed early. I fear she exhausted herself with her activities of the day.”

“She is taking the news about the King dearly to heart as well, I imagine.” Thomas leaned over and grabbed a nearby spoon. He stirred the stew, taking note of the contents as he did so. “Vegetables, only?”

“Father has often been paid in vegetables of late. It’s the season for it.” Charlotte sighed heavily and stopped fussing over the food. “I need to go for a walk. I cannot think of eating. My mind wanders from point to point so quickly, I cannot calm it. Only motion will help.”

“I will go with you,” Thomas said, rising quickly.

“I would rather walk alone.”

“I understand. That is why I wish to accompany you.”

She knew better than to argue. “Let me go next door and ask for Aunt Beatrix, so she may tend the fire while we are away.” She returned a moment later with a dark shawl around her shoulders and a lantern in her hands, as the light of day was beginning to dim behind tall mountains in the distance.

“We won’t have long to walk before dark, but at least something of an escape may help set my mind more at ease.”

“I doubt our minds will be eased for some time to come,” said Thomas. “Too much is undecided, and there is this new monarch to consider.”

“Indeed, there is,” Charlotte replied slowly. “That is what troubles me most.”

* * *

The pair meandered down along the edge of her father’s land, toward a stream that fed straight from the largest river in the countryside. The bubbling and splashing of it always seemed to soothe Charlotte’s nerves, no matter her state of mind. At least it always had, until tonight.

She sat on a boulder at the water’s edge, and Thomas took up position on the bank beside her. The lantern light flickered as her hands shook; the reality of the violence that had taken the life of the King and his young Heir haunted her. “I wonder what will become of her now.”

“Who is that?”

“The common girl meant to be queen someday. I suppose it will all depend upon whether Her Highness the Queen has taken a liking to her. If so, she could become the only close kin the Queen now has living.”

“True. Kin can be close, even if not tied by lines of blood,” Thomas replied. “Look at the ties between our families. Decades long, predating our births… ” Something nearby seemed to catch Thomas’s attention, and Charlotte jolted.

“What is it?”

“I thought I heard a sound. A cry like that of a wounded animal.” Thomas jumped to his feet and reached out. “The lantern?” Charlotte held the object out to him. He drew his sword with his right hand, and held the lantern in his left. “Please, wait here until I return.”

“I shall do no such thing!” she objected. “Perhaps I can help.”

Thomas picked up speed as he ambled along the embankment, and Charlotte struggled to keep up.

“Wait for me! If the animal is injured, it may snap!”

Thomas was already on his knees in the shallow water though, paying her no heed. When he spoke at last, his words were barely intelligible. “Charlotte, this is no animal.”

Charlotte gasped as she rushed into the water beside Thomas and tried to help him turn a man from his side. The man’s head was scarcely above water; the rest of him, submerged.

“Avert your eyes.” Thomas directed, then he swore softly as he dropped the lantern into the stream and sheathed his sword. “He is barely alive, and gravely wounded.”

“I have assisted my father many times in his work, Thomas. If he is…”

“Give me your shawl!” Thomas commanded, in a tone completely out of character. Charlotte responded by doing as he asked, and Thomas wrapped the fabric around the man’s head so only one side of his face was visible in the pale, last light of day.

What Charlotte could see was that the man had been beaten until those features visible were distorted, but that was not the extent of his injuries, only the beginning.

“We must hurry and get him to your father,” Thomas said, ripping the sleeves from his shirt and using them to tie off wounds to the man’s arm and leg. “If this poor soul has any hope of salvation, whatever has befallen him, it will be in your father’s care.” He hoisted the man up onto his shoulder with a groan, and staggered for a moment before finding his footing. “Hurry, Charlotte,” he called, not waiting for her to fall into step beside him. “He has very little time.”