The Duke of Tremont

Chapter 18

Warning: Minor character death in a gruesome manner. Sorry.

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It was but a few short moments that Deb and Lindsay arrived on the morbid scene in Brian’s suite. Lindsay stopped short, almost tripping over the dead man on the floor. She blanched and then surveyed the rest of the room, her eyes landing on Justin, whom Brian and Patrick were trying to coax a bloody dagger from trembling fingers.

Deciding that her need to get help was more important than seeing what was in the chest on the table she announced her plan; "I will get Mel and send for someone to clean up the mess. Bishop Vic, perhaps you could kindly fill me in on what has happened here," she added quietly.

Vic moved out into the corridor with her; "I’m afraid to say we have received an answer from Balybonne, My Lady. They sent Justin his own mother’s head and he killed the messenger. Damn them to hell!" He exclaimed as he crossed himself at the same time.

Lindsay covered her mouth in horror; "my God, what kind of monster are we dealing with to do such a thing?"

"The type of monster that must not be allowed to rule any longer," replied Vic; "I think you better get Mel quickly, Justin is in shock and the sooner we remove this mess the better."

Lindsay nodded and hurried down the corridor.

Back in the room Deb peeked into the chest and after her initial shock, had taken her own survey of what needed to be done; "Emmett," she approached the grief stricken man; "Justin needs you. We need some hot water to get him cleaned up. Can you do that for him?"

Emmett nodded, happy to have something to do, and left the room to get the supplies he would need.

Deb approached Jonathan who had been trying to provide some comfort to Daphne and Emmett; "Lady Molly must be told Sire," she addressed the king.

"I should be the one to tell her, Deb;" replied Jonathan.

Deb nodded and turned to Daphne pulling her into a quick hug; "she’s going to need you. Justin cannot help her right now."

Daphne stood tall and wiped the tears from her eyes; "I shall do what I can."

"Good girl, now off with the both of you. Justin needs his sister. I will see that this is all taken away before you return with her."

Jonathan began to lead Daphne from the room; "wait Your Highness," Deb called out. She knelt by the dead man on the floor and ripped the bloody emblem of Westlake from his tunic handing it to the King; "I believe you have a message to return."

"Aye, I do," replied the King solemnly as he took it from her and left.

Vic knelt to the fallen man and began to administer last rites to him as well. He was only just a pawn in Duke Sapperstein’s sick little game after all.

Deb brushed past her brother and approached Brian and Patrick who had managed to get the dagger away from Justin but had not made any more progress than that with the young man. "I will ready your bedchamber for him My Lord;" she spoke softly to Brian who only nodded, his eyes staying on his lover.

Emmett returned with the water and some cloths and towels and Deb brought a clean nightshirt out of the room handing it to Patrick. She returned to turn down the bed and light the oil lamps.

"Justin," Brian said softly; "your uncle and I are going to get you out of these clothes and clean you up a bit all right?"

Justin continued to stare blankly at the wall and Brian shot a desperate look of worry to Patrick and Emmett.

Patrick patted Brian’s knee; "he’s in shock lad, we need to get him cleaned up and into bed as quickly as possible."

Brian nodded and the three set about their task. It did not take long and soon Brian and Emmett were raising Justin off the floor to lead him to the bedchamber. As he stood some awareness seemed to creep back into his eyes and his gaze moved over to the now closed chest; "Mother," he whispered desperately.

"Justin, do not look at it," Brian spoke as he signaled for Emmett to keep moving.

"Brian?" Justin asked in a raspy voice as his eyes moved to his lover.

Brian tilted his forehead against Justin’s for a moment; "I am here."

"They killed my mother," Justin whispered softly as if in a daze and then his legs buckled. Brian swiftly swept him up into his strong arms and carried him the rest of the way into the bedroom laying him down gently. He kissed his forehead as he pulled the covers over the young man whose eyes were drooping closed.

"He feels so cold;" Brian spoke to the others.

"Mel is on her way;" responded Deb.

Brian nodded sitting on the bed next to Justin while Patrick moved to sit at Justin’s feet rubbing his legs gently to show his support and help keep the boy’s circulation going.

Brian took Justin’s hands and began chafing them with his own warm ones. As he did so he extended his gift out to Justin to provide some comfort in that way. He took in a breath as he felt the weight of the black despair that had encompassed his lover’s mind.

Justin’s eyes snapped open suddenly and they met Brian’s, clear and lucid; "get out," he said flatly.

"But Justin I..."

"We had a deal Brian;" Justin interrupted, "I want you to honor it. You cannot be with me now;" his voice was void of all emotion.

"As you wish," replied Brian trying desperately not to let the hurt show in his eyes. "If I cannot share your grief will you at least let me stay here with you?"

Justin closed his eyes and turned away, not responding to Brian’s question.

Patrick squeezed Brian’s shoulder in sympathy as both men sat vigil over the broken young man before them.

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King Jonathan had retired to his own apartment with Daphne, asking that Lady Molly be brought to him so they could speak in private.

It was Hunter and one of the older ladies-in-waiting serving as a chaperone who led Molly into the King’s sitting room. "You wished to speak with me Your Majesty?" Molly asked as she spread her festive, red velvet gown in a deep curtsey." She eyed the disheveled and tear-stained Daphne with trepidation.

"Yes Molly I do," Jonathan replied; "perhaps in private," he nodded to the other lady and Hunter.

"Yes father," Hunter cast a worried look in Molly’s direction but turned to follow the lady-in-waiting out the door.

"I would like Hunter to stay please;" said Molly, "there is nothing you can say to me that he cannot hear."

Jonathan smiled briefly at his son and then back at Molly; "as you wish." He stood from his seat and moved to take her hand; "perhaps you should sit down."

"Please, Highness, just tell me," she pleaded, "is it Justin? Is there something wrong with my brother?"

The King glanced at Daphne, who moved to Molly’s other side; "Justin is well," she assured the girl.

"Then what is the matter?"

"It is you mother," said the King quietly; "she is dead My Lady. I am so very sorry."

Molly stiffened slightly and moved away from the others grabbing the back of a chair for support; "was she executed?"

Jonathan had been prepared for hysterics or at the very least tears. The stoic young girl in front of him took him very much by surprise; "yes," he answered honestly.

"How did she die Highness?" Molly’s fingers tightened on the chair as she asked the question.

Hunter moved to her side, sliding a hand over hers; "Molly, no."

She pulled her hand away and turned to Hunter; "how can I be expected to run my father’s lands one day if I cannot be told the truth?" She asked vehemently. She turned once again to the King; "please Sire, how did they kill my mother?"

"Beheading," he answered in a choked voice.

"No," she gasped grabbing hold of the chair for more support. Hunter moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her slim waist and she gratefully let him support her as she closed her eyes. Finally after a moment she pulled away and stood straight; "I must go to my brother. He will need me."

"Right away My Lady," replied Jonathan.

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Molly burst into Brian and Justin’s suite searching frantically for her brother. Luckily the chest, body and bloody rug it had lain on were nowhere in sight.

"He’s in there love," Deb pointed to the bedchamber as she, Mel, and Lindsay continued to quietly converse by the fire. Mel stirred a pot periodically that Hunter was sure held one of the woman’s vile potions. He was glad he was not the one in need of it this time.

Molly went straight into the bedchamber and into her uncle’s arms; "Uncle Patrick," she cried as she finally let her tears start to fall.

Upon hearing his sister’s voice Justin sat up; "Molly?"

"Oh Justin," she moved to embrace her brother as Brian moved out of the way.

"They killed her Molly," Justin cried; "Mother is dead."

"I know," Molly whispered, now openly sobbing.

Daphne came in and scooted onto the bed on Justin’s other side, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and crying into his neck. Patrick moved to embrace all of them in his strong arms as the family shared their grief for their beloved mother, foster mother and niece.

Bishop Vic and Brian quietly left the room to give them some privacy. Brian paused and focused on Justin before pulling the door shut, praying that it was simply shock and grief that had caused his lover to shut him out so emotionlessly.

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