The Duke of Tremont II - Bloodspell

Chapter 2

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“Enter,” called out Duke James tersely when a he heard a knock in his study.

“My Lord,” Mage Kipton greeted the other man, running a nervous hand through his short, dark hair.

“What news do you have?”

“I’m sorry, your highness, I still cannot find them. I don’t know how, but Blake has managed to elude my spells. I don’t know where they would have gone.”

“It seems as though your pupil is more powerful and intelligent than you thought. Perhaps he has spirited the boy away because he suspects us.” He turned an angry glare on the other man. “That is what you get for thinking with parts of your body other than your brain. Let us hope for your sake that he does not know all of your secrets. You‘re sure that he knows nothing of the spell you‘ve used on the royal bloodline?” James began to pace.

“I’m certain of it. I never spoke of it to him, and he had left me by the time I was ready to cast it. Even if he knew, he does not have the power to counteract it.”

“Well, perhaps we can use the boy’s absence to our advantage,” James replied after pacing the room a few more times. “We’ll tell the council it appears as though he’s been kidnapped by Blake and his bodyguard, Sir Andrew, and that both are to be killed on sight if found. We will find them eventually, and meanwhile I can continue my work here without having to be bothered with my young nephew. Perhaps the young mage has inadvertently done me a favor. Tristan will most likely will be dead from the spell before we can find him anyway.”

“Yes, My…, Kipton trailed off as suddenly, his body went stiff and his eyes glazed for a moment.

“What is it?” Duke James asked curiously.

“It’s the spell, My Lord,” he answered without looking at the duke. His eyes were still glazed, almost as if he were looking at something far away. Finally he seemed to snap back and his body relaxed. He smiled at James. “The spell has been triggered again, Duke. King Jonathan has received the brooch.”

 

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Two weeks later in Tremont

“No! John, No!” Brian jerked awake and sat up in bed, his chest heaving in gasping sobs.

“Brian! What is it? What’s wrong?” Justin groggily pulled himself up next to his lover.

Brian didn’t reply. He sat gulping in deep breaths and shivering.

Justin became alarmed. He had become accustomed to Brian’s nightmares over the years, but they had never before rendered his lover incapacitated. He scooted closer to Brian and wrapped him in his arms and sent comfort and love through the emotional link between them. “Brian?” He called softly. “What is it love? Please tell me.”

Brian took in a few more deep breaths. “It was John. Something happened to my brother.”

Justin bit his lip and held Brian tighter. “Was it a dream,” he hesitated for a quick moment. “Or was it a vision?”

“God!” Brian bit out as he pulled away from Justin and threw himself out of bed. Grabbing his robe he flung open the doors to the balcony and left the room.

Justin got up and slowly dressed for the day since dawn was breaking and he knew he would not be getting any more sleep. He needed to give Brian some time to brood. He knew enough about his lover to know that the man needed to process what had happened before he could share it with Justin.

Finally, Justin moved out to the balcony as well, quietly approaching his lover and placing a tentative hand on his shoulder.

Brian covered the hand with his own. “I don’t know if it was a vision or a dream, Sunshine. I don’t really even remember the details, just that John was in grave danger.”

Justin brought his other hand up to Brian’s other shoulder and began kneading his tense muscles. “You’ve been restless for days now, Brian.”

Brian leaned back into his lover a bit. “I know, but I just can’t put my finger on what’s wrong. It’s so frustrating.”

“Maybe you should talk with Mel.”

Brian stood up straight and turned to face Justin, making a face so sour that Justin had to fight from laughing. “Why on earth would I want to talk with that witch?”

This time Justin did laugh. “Exactly, Brian.”

“What in bloody hell are you talking about, Sunshine?”

“Mel’s a witch. You’ve been restless and having bad dreams. You know these are signs that your gift is acting up. Maybe she could give you some insight. She is the one that knows the most about it.”

“You know I hate going to her for anything, Justin. She’s just so…so…”

“So much like you, My Lord?” Justin laughed again.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Hardly,” he replied acerbically. “And don’t finish my sentences.”

Justin raised his hands in surrender. “As you wish, Brian, but I still think you need to speak with her. If this really does have something to do with your brother it could be important.”

Brian sighed and pulled Justin into his arms. “All right, you’re right. Why don’t you invite Mel and Lindsay to join us for dinner here tonight and I’ll talk to her. You and my wife can be there to keep us from killing each other.”

“See, Brian, if you would just admit that I’m right in the first place it would save you so much trouble.”

“Don’t push it, Sunshine. Don’t push it.”

 

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Two forms huddled around a small fire in the wee hours of the dawn. Not far from them lay another, wrapped in the warmth of his bedroll. Their horses were tethered close by, grazing in a patch of green grass.

“How does the boy seem to you, Sir Andrew?” asked Blake, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. They had been traveling at night and sleeping during the day to help escape detection by the Duke’s men that Blake new were looking for them.

“He seems well, My Lord. A bit more worn than usual, but that could just be grief and all the traveling we have done.” Andrew replied, taking a sip of his own tea.

“Yes, that’s what I had thought as well. Luckily, we should reach the border tomorrow and I don’t think they will find us in Pennington.” He eyed the tall, muscular man. “You know you could turn back. Tell them I spelled you or something. I’m sure I could get Tristan to the capitol on my own. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“I’m offended you would even say such a thing, my lord.” Andrew sat up tall and proud. “I was appointed to protect Prince Tristan by the king himself when the boy was just a babe and that’s what I’ll do. I am loyal to him alone.”

“That’s all very admirable, Sir Andrew, but you are also defying the current ruler by doing so. Does that not bother you?”

“Please, my Lord, call me Drew. I think we are in such a situation that formalities are not needed.”

Blake nodded in assent. “Drew, then,” he replied. “And you may call me Blake, or Mage Blake if you do not want to be quite so familiar.” He smiled warmly. “And you still have not answered my question. Right now you are most likely considered a criminal in your own home.”

Drew shook his head. “I think we both know who the traitor is, my…I mean Blake. I have never fully trusted the king’s brother and now with what you know of him, I am happy to help the young prince escape.”

“Good, I am glad to have you with us,” Blake smiled and then yawned loudly.

“Have your spells detected any more followers?”

Blake shook his head. “Not for the last few days. There have been a few prods at my shields, but nothing I could not defend against.”

Kipton is an adept mage,” Andrew replied. “How is it you have managed to elude him and his spells? Forgive me, but I thought you were only a master level mage.”

“It’s true, I am,” Blake smiled kindly. “In magic sometimes it is not the levels of your powers that can defeat someone, but how you use them. I know Earl Kipton very, very well.”

Blake eyed Andrew for a moment until a look of recognition crossed his features. “So you were lovers then?”

“Does that bother you, Drew?”

“No, not that you were lovers with a man, a little that you were with that particular man. Since we’re being quite honest, I prefer men myself.”

Blake nodded. “Well, I can’t say I’m proud of it, but in my defense, I was young and starry eyed. Kipton was my teacher first and then my lover. I worshipped the ground he walked on and thought he could do no wrong. Then he began working for the duke and everything changed. He became arrogant, selfish, and God help him I think he was the one behind the king’s illness and death under Duke James‘ orders. I left him and I have not looked back. Anyway, to answer your original question, that is what has helped me elude him, though I am a lesser mage. I know Kipton inside out, and hopefully that will be what helps us defeat him. It’s just that I know can’t do it alone, and I need Tristan out of the way and safe.”

“You are a brave man, Mage Blake. I will do whatever I can to help you.”

“I appreciate it, Drew, and so will our future king. Come let us get some sleep. We have a long night ahead.”

 

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King Jonathan and Queen Elaine were leaving the great hall after dinner. Young Prince Brian and his wife, Princess Roslinde, followed right behind the older couple.

“Tomorrow, let us dine in our quarters so my grandchildren can join us,” suggested Jonathan.

“That would be wonderful, highness,” answered Roslinde. “They both love to spend time with you and the queen.”

Jonathan was about to reply when suddenly he stumbled and Elaine caught his arm.

Young Brian was quick to catch his other arm. “Father?” He asked in an alarmed voice. “Are you all right?”

Jonathan stood up straight and smiled. “Oh, I’m fine, son. I must have had too much wine.” He brushed hand over his brow.

“You should know better to indulge so much, my dear,” Elaine added lightly, but she shared a concerned look with Brian. They both looked back to Roslinde, who also shook her head. None of them had seen the king consume more than two goblets of wine at dinner tonight.

“Mother’s right, you’re not getting any younger,” Brian tried to be flippant.

“I beg your pardon, young man, you take that back!” Jonathan jokingly glared at his son.

Brian laughed. “Now you sound like Uncle Brian, father.”

“Take that back too! I am not nearly as vain as my little brother.” Jonathan laughed as well.

The two couples resumed their walk back to their respective apartments. As they rounded the last corner to Jonathan and Elaine’s room the king’s knees buckled again. This time Elaine and Brian could not keep him on his feet.

“Jon!” Cried the queen as they eased him to the floor.

“I’m not feeling so well, my darling,” Jonathan slurred. “Perhaps it was something I ate.”

By now guards had arrived, healers, and the king’s most valued religious counselor, and friend, Bishop Victor, had been called for, and under the queen’s direction they got him into their room and into bed.

By this time Jonathan was sweating profusely and barely conscious.

Brian and Roslinde were standing in the king and queen’s living quarters with a few of their other most trusted advisors waiting for news when Bishop Vic came out of the bedroom.

He came to Prince Brian and laid a comforting hand on the young man‘s shoulder. “I think it is best if you call for your uncle.”
 

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