The Reign of Trees (27 page)

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Authors: Lori Folkman

BOOK: The Reign of Trees
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But that was not the case. Of course, her biggest priority was to keep Donovan’s head upon his shoulders; but additionally, the people of Burchess needed to know that the repression of their kingdom was not typical of the neighboring countries, nor was it the way of their ancestors. Illianah had read the history of her kingdom in the journals of her father’s predecessors—Burchess was once honest, valiant, and generous. Her father’s way was not true to their great legacy.

The massive doors to the throne room slammed shut and echoed through her hollow heart. Donovan was gone. He was a prisoner. And she was no longer free. They would never meet again.

King Gregory went to sit on his throne. He did not even look at Illianah as he passed, making her feel like she was nothing more than a street urchin. Now that they were in a more private setting, should he not show her an emotion other than anger? Could he not be the least bit glad to see her alive and well?

Leif passed by her as well, and when he took to his throne, he sat with his shoulders tall and square, looking like an arrogant man who was not at all worried about the fate of his wife. In fact, he looked slightly amused. How like Leif to find satisfaction in the pain of others. Had her wrists not been bound, she would have run across the room and slapped that smug look off his face.

It was not Leif who would decide her fate though—this became evident when he turned his head to the king, who looked to be stewing over a matter more complicated than Illianah had ever seen him have to shoulder.

“I must admit Illianah,” King Gregory said, “I am quite at a loss of how to handle you. You look as wild as barn cat. There is nothing about your behavior which would indicate your upbringing as Princess of Burchess. You have shown your devotion for a man who is not your husband. And you have stood in front of your people— my people—and intentionally deceived them about the nature of this war. Do you wish to turn my people against me?”

A great weight pulled on Illianah, making her feel as if she could fall through the castle’s foundation and into her grave. She knew her answer, yet she did not know if she could say it.

“This is something I have never seen,” Leif said, sounding as if he might laugh. “I have never seen Illianah speechless.”

“Perhaps there is hope for her yet,” the king said, sounding amused at Leif’s remarks. “Perhaps she does know how to think before she speaks.” The king glanced at Leif and they smiled as if they were laughing at the memory of a humorous hunting story. It sickened her that her father shared this camaraderie with a man of such bile wickedness as Leif. Her father’s poor judge of character spoke volumes for his own character.

“Yes father,” she said, standing tall and fearless, “your people deserve to know how they are oppressed. They deserve to know that their men lost their lives fighting against a kingdom who was trying to preserve their freedom and their honor. They should know …”

“Enough!” her father yelled. “How dare you?” His face grew as red as King Henrick’s had been during his coughing fit. “I am your father, Illianah. I have raised you since birth. How dare you betray me? After all the years I have tolerated you. After …”

Illianah did not hesitate to interrupt. “
Tolerated
me? You act as if I was some burden upon you. As if you did me a favor by allowing me to walk the halls of your castle.”

King Gregory sighed heavily. “I do not have the patience to deal with your emotions, Illianah. I never did understand how to deal with your outbursts. Perhaps I should have looked past my own pain and remarried just so you could have had a mother. It would have done you the world of good.”

“Yes, perhaps.” Illianah could hear the sound of heartbreak in her voice, but she continued anyhow. “But where would that put your precious Prince Harrington? A second wife could have born you a son.”

“Then I would not have had to worry about the kingdom someday falling into your hands—something which you are obviously not capable of. You should thank God that Prince Harrington even agreed to marry you. He is not to be mocked.”

It felt as if a thousand small daggers had just flown across the room, leaving deep gashes over every inch of her soul. Her husband of seven days had a greater place in her father’s heart than she did, even after twenty years.

“Your charges are most severe, Illianah. I cannot sentence you to a traitor’s death without first making certain your mind has not been altered. My guess is that the wily, wicked Prince Henrick had you under hypnosis. Why else would you run off to live as a pig’s keeper?

“You are hereby sentenced to the north tower, where you will be cleaned, fed and given time to rest. I will send a physician to tend to you. After two days’ time, you will be expected to publically renounce your statements against my throne and my misuse of power. Once the people of Burchess are assured that you are no longer an advocate of the throne of Deltegra, your charges will be dismissed.”

“And what then?” she asked. “Will I be sent to Deltegra to rule alongside Prince Harrington?”

Leif smiled mischievously. “I think that would be the perfect punishment; both for you and your beloved Prince Henrick.”

She knew she should keep her lips sealed tight and not say anything to infuriate her father and Leif, but being submissive to their wills felt as contradictory as hearing a hen crow at the crack of dawn in place of a rooster. “You can put me in the north tower for three hundred days, and yet I will not renounce my words. I will not rest until the world knows of your tyranny.”

***

Illianah was surprised that she was still sentenced to the tower and not hung on the spot, but she supposed it was easier for her father this way. He seemed to want her put out of his sight and his mind as quickly as possible. It was likely that he really would keep her locked up here for three hundred days or longer, just so he would not have to decide her fate.
 

She was bathed and fed, and just as she felt like she could collapse into bed and sleep for the rest of the century, she heard the clanking of a key in the door. Madame Partlet, the royal dressmaker, was let into the room. She crossed the room swiftly and pulled Illianah into a tight embrace. “Oh, child,” she whispered.

Illianah had been so brave and bold today—finding strength well beyond her capacity, but upon being swept into the arms of her old friend and mentor, Illianah instantly began to cry, as her broken heart resounded through every corner of her body.

“There, there,” Madame Partlet said. “Do not cry. You are finally home.”

“And that is why I cry,” Illianah said.

“Then they are tears of joy?”

“No.” Illianah tried to swallow the choking emotions. “This is no longer my home. I want no part of this kingdom.”

Madame Partlet released Illianah from the embrace and looked at her inquisitively. “Illianah, those claims come with very serious consequences. Do you understand that the penalty for such words will be death?”

Madame Partlet towered over Illianah by nearly a head. As a child, Illianah had always been impressed with the woman, as she was not only tall in stature, but also had such a commanding presence about her. She was regal. Well bred. Illianah had hoped she would grow in sophistication to the point where she was revered like Madame Partlet, but instead, Illianah had become the biggest buffoon in all of Burchess. She could only imagine what people were saying about her at this very moment.

“My father and Prince Harrington will have you believe that I have gone mad, Madame Partlet, but I can assure you I have not. I have never felt so alive. So impassioned. I will not take back my words, even as they put a noose around my neck.”

While still holding Illianah by the elbows, Madame Partlet moved to the bed and motioned that they should sit. Madame Partlet kept her eyes steadfast on Illianah—it was clear that she was trying to determine if Illianah was indeed sane. Madame Partlet’s shoulders sagged under a heavy sigh, causing her countenance to change. She looked very grave, and yet at the same time, a roguish twinkle immerged in her eye. “Child, you should know that you have caused quite a stir,” she whispered. “There are many in Burchess who do not agree with the king. There are many who have grown tired of his heavy taxing and his cruel punishments. Some suspected that the war with Deltegra was a ploy by King Gregory and Prince Harrington to take control of the timber industry. Hearing you speak of your evidence of this plot has many people up in arms. They do not feel that we, the people of Burchess, should support a king who has conquered another kingdom under false pretenses.”

Illianah no longer felt like crawling into the arms of her surrogate mother and bawling like a baby. Her heart began to race over the implication of what she was being told.

She whispered back, “These people you speak of—are their numbers large?”

“After the events of the morning, they are growing by the hundreds.”

“Enough to … revolt?”

Illianah could barely hear the sound of her own whisper, but Madame Partlet understood and shook her head. “Not …
yet
.”

“Those people should know that Prince Harrington plans on taking my father’s throne. His throne will be bathed in blood,” Illianah said. She did not have proof of this; but she knew this to be true just as much as she knew she was sitting in this room with Madame Partlet.

“They should know,” Illianah continued, “that Prince Harrington set fire to the northern forest of Deltegra, killing all the inhabitants in order to triumph over the Deltegran army.”

“It could be argued that Prince Harrington is a wise and cunning warrior,” Madame
Parlet
replied.

“I can assure you that Prince Harrington’s heart beats black and cold. He will stop at nothing to gain power. Burchess and all that we stand for will be destroyed under his rule. God will curse us for giving homage to such a man. I fear if he is not stopped soon, there will be no end to the reign of terror he will bring to our country.”

Madame Partlet held very still and bore her blue eyes deep into Illianah’s soul. Finally, she nodded and said, “Yes. Those people should know of your thoughts.” Then, Madame Partlet cleared her throat and said, “I am to take your measurements so we can once again get you in the cloth of royalty.”

While Illianah wished to protest and refuse any finery which had come through the toil of the peasants of Burchess, she did not want to fight with Madame Partlet, nor did she wish for the good woman to leave too quickly. Just as the measurements were finished, the key was again turned in the door. “You have exceeded your time Madame Partlet,” the guard said.

“But she has grown so thin,” Madame Partlet explained. “It is causing me great difficulty with my measurements.”
 

“There is greater concern in our kingdom than Princess Illianah’s thinness.”

Madame Partlet gave Illianah a knowing nod and said, “I will be back with your gown tomorrow; after you have rested.”

The guard let the dressmaker out and then spoke to Illianah. “You are to sleep now. The physician will be in to see you later.”

Illianah collapsed on the bed; her body feeling as if she had been trodden down by a stampede of bulls. But her mind felt as if she had just awoken after three day’s sleep. It was racing with thoughts. Could a revolt really be possible, just based on her word? Would they really be able to overthrow her father’s throne and restore King Henrick to his? A smile came to her lips. A smile of hope.

***

Illianah did not feel rested when she awoke the next morning; in fact, she felt worse. The night had passed fitfully. She tossed and turned as she had nightmares of watching Donovan’s head roll. She knew she had saved him from his imminent death, yet for some reason, his fate worried her more than her own. Perhaps that was because she did have some control over what her sentence was to be, yet with Donovan, there was nothing she could say or do to ensure his safety.

The physician made his visit, during which he told her that her condition was extremely grave and ordered her to remain in bed.

“But I feel fine,” she said.

“You are clearly delusional. It is common in situations such as these. You have been fighting for survival for so long that you are at war with yourself. You no longer know whom to trust, nor do you know that you are now safe at home.”

She was about to argue with the physician, as she was obviously as sane and mellow as an entire sanctuary of nuns, but he held up his hand to stop her. “My Lady, save your breath; I am ready to give my report to the king. It is as he thought: you have been hypnotized by the evil men of Deltegra. We will try and find a way to bring you around, as quickly as possible.”

Illianah froze with fear. The way the physician spoke, in combination with the sinister look in his eye, implied that “bringing her around” would involve pain, possibly even torture. “I will never deny the truth,” she told him. “I will not take back the words I said yesterday. I ….”

He nodded cynically and left the chamber, making her feel as if her words really were useless and were about to be taken from her. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping that all of Burchess would hear her and know that she would fight for their freedom until her last dying breath.

Left alone in her chamber, Illianah began to feel as if she would grow mad if left here too long. She was at the top of the north tower, but unlike the towers at the castle of Andoradda, these rooms were not bedchambers. It was a prison, and not just a common prison: this prison housed enemies of the state of Burchess. She had never known of anyone serving a sentence here and then being set free. Those who left this tower went to the gallows.

The room was only about ten paces across, and while it did have a window, it was made of beveled glass and had no hinge. She should have been grateful to have light, as she knew the dungeon at Andoradda had no such luxury, but to know that she may never again have fresh air made her feel as if she would suffocate. There was only one small wooden chair and a bed for furnishings, making her bedchambers at Valencio’s estate seem stately in comparison. She had never lived in such squalor, but that is not what bothered her about this room. It was the fact that she had always felt like a prisoner in her own life, and now that she actually was a prisoner, she had the power to choose her destiny.

While she was uncertain of the time, it felt like late morning when the key again rattled in the lock. She froze, worrying that it might be a preacher coming to rid her of evil spirits; or worse, a torturer coming to convince her to take back her words against her father. The sight of Prince Harrington stepping into her chamber should have been a welcomed one then, but in fact, Illianah’s body filled with such dread that she worried she might fall dead on the spot.

Leif stepped through the room; his boots echoing as he crossed the floor with slow, threatening steps. His smile was the same as it had been yesterday: smug and mischievous. “You look to be yourself again,” he said. “You no longer look the part of a peasant wench, hell-bent on tearing a kingdom apart because of her wanton love for another man. But the question is: are you still acting the part of a woman out to destroy the lives of everyone around her?”

“I can assure you, the only acting I have ever done is that of a princess happily marrying a counterfeit husband.”

He continued to step toward her until he was just a foot away, that same sanctimonious smile upon his face. “I do wonder why your father never had your tongue cut out, as that is the only way I would ever be able to tolerate you.”

“Even the loss of my tongue would not silence me.”

“I do not doubt it,” he said. He turned away from her and took a few steps, giving her hope that he would leave as quickly as he had entered, but he turned back to face her. “Do you know why I ordered your beloved Prince Henrick to be sent back to Deltegra rather than have him hung from the gallows for committing adultery with my wife?”

Obviously that was a question she could not answer, especially since she thought the charges of adultery had been dropped. Each beat of her heart gave pain to her soul as she waited for the answer.

“It is because when I get back to Deltegra,” Leif said as he again stepped closer, “I want to look Prince Henrick in the eye as I run a sword through his heart. And do you know what I will say to him?”

Illianah could feel the first pricks of sweat across her body, causing a chill to run down her spine. It seemed as if her nightmares would become a reality.

“I will ask him if falling in love with my wife was worth losing his life
and
his kingdom.”

“No,” she said weakly.

“No? You think he will answer ‘no’? That is what I suspect he will answer as well.”

“No,” she said again, this time more boldly. “Please spare him his life. He did nothing wrong. It is I who is to blame.”

“Of course it is, Illianah. What man can resist your allure?” He said this with an air of mockery as if she was nothing more than a performer in a street fair, meant to draw laughter from the crowd.

It was as if a fire had been lit underneath Illianah, making her frozen trepidation turn to into hot vehemence. “There was a time, Prince Harrington, that I thought perhaps I was unlovable. I wondered what I could do to find favor in your eyes. But then I realized it is not I who is unlovable. It is you who is incapable of love.”

His expression changed. His eyes were nothing more than menacing crevices upon a face of rock. “Life is not about love, you foolish girl,” he seethed. “Life is about success, and I will not let your ridiculous escapades stop mine. Have you thought about your future, princess? You know the power that Burchess has over the Western Corridor. No other kingdom can match our army, and now that we have conquered Deltegra, we equal Arugua in both population and land mass. We are poised to not only control this continent, but the seas as well. We can rule the world, Illianah. Every kingdom will bow to
us
.

“Power. Money. Opulence. Is that not what you want? Is that not what you were bred for, Princess?”

“Yes,” she whispered, “It is in my breeding. But is not what I want.”

He grabbed the back of the wooden chair and threw it against the floor, smashing it to pieces. Illianah jumped in fright, and from the rage upon Leif’s face, she was right to fear him; he looked like the next thing he would break would be her body. “You are more than foolish,” he said, sounding as if he was struggling to keep his voice from causing an earthquake. “You have not a mind. Only a heart. You will never be queen.”

“You have neither a mind
nor
a heart. You only have brawn and an unquenchable thirst for death and destruction. I will not toss in my grave for dwelling on matters of the heart, yet your body will not even be laid to rest before the flames of hell come to claim you.”

Leif’s arm moved so fast that she did not even have a chance to turn her head. He smacked her with his open hand first across her left cheek, and then he backhanded her across her right cheek. The pain was so great that she could not keep the tears from her eyes.

“Your father is hopeful that you can be made reasonable again. He feels that if you are left here long enough without any of the luxuries you are accustomed to, you will eventually recall your words and go back to living in ignorant bliss. But I think him to be weak. I think he would rather lock you in here the remainder of your days than to order your death. That may work for him; but it does not work for me. I cannot spend my life harnessed to a daft woman who thinks she can rule the world with ‘feelings.’ You are dead to me, Illianah, and I will see to it that you become such.”

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