Chapter 16

Brandon Caldwell had given the monarch of this land a new name as ‘The Mad King’.

And as Isadora followed Colt through the castle, the guards surrendering before they’d even walked passed them, and burst into the throne room she could see what he meant.

The throne room, a large bejewelled hall with an elderly man hunched over and holding his silk red robe close against his chest, was silent apart from his mad mutterings.

Thin and greasy white hair ran all the way down his back, his crown almost slipping off his head as he looked up at his invaders. He looked at them as if the devil had sent them himself.

Isadora saw him look at straight at her; his skin was so ashen he appeared almost like a ghost; his eyes could have been mistaken for dark holes and his lips never stopped mumbling to himself as he rocked back and forth.

“Mad King Meldour,” Colt stepped forward, Isadora walking around to the left as she kept her distance to observe the king as something uneasy grew in her stomach.

Something wasn’t right here.

Her eyes looked around the room and saw nothing but chamber maids and nurses; there were a few men on guard but they had dropped their swords the moment Colt had appeared in the doorway.

“I am here to relieve you of your throne,” Colt informed the elderly man that didn’t appear able to speak for himself and just looked around him, not paying the least attention to Colt.

Izzie narrowed her eyes at a young maid towards the back of the hall; she didn’t know that Izzie was watching her as the maid slowly walked backwards until she was pressed back against the wall, her hand fumbling for something behind her.

Izzie was just about to see what the red headed young woman was reaching for when there was a sudden burst of laughter from the throne and she snapped her head around to see the King, stood wobbling on his feet as he pointed a crooked finger at Colt, his face looking like it was possessed.

“TRAITOR!” King Meldour screamed at Colt, “BLASPHEMY! YOU WILL ENDURE GOD’S WRATH!”

Izzie was expecting the king to be ‘mad’ but as he finished his string of religious babble he just continued to laugh as Colt stormed up to him and threw him off the throne.

Izzie watched his frail body bounce off the marble steps before sliding across the waxed floor; his breath growing wheezy but Izzie found it hard to feel sympathy for him when he had sent an army to kill his own people.

Breaking eye contact with the King, she turned back to the young maid to find her gone.

Frantically turning her head as she searched the hall, she was nowhere to be seen. She couldn’t have escaped through the door because they were there standing guard; so where was she?

“Meldour, my army is currently laying siege to your beloved kingdom! If you wish for your subjects to survive the night you shall inform them all that you wielded your throne to me!”

The king just continued to chuckle like an insane man, “You will rule,” he jerked his head, “But God will judge you” And then out of nowhere Meldour’s personality became dark, muttering the words, “they must die,” over and over again.

“What?” Izzie whispered.

“The heretics!” he snapped at her, “They will all burn! They will all burn in hell for the plague they have brought on us!”

“Your people didn’t bring this disease!” Isadora growled at him, “You did! With your greed you kept your money to yourself instead of spending it on your peoples welfare.”

Walking slowly over to his coward body, her boots clicking against the floor as she trailed the tip of her sword along the marble, screeching everyones ears, she stood over his frail body.

“You say God will judge us?” Izzie crouched and peered into his deep, dead eyes, “He will judge you . . . and find you lacking,”

Meldour looked at her with fear and rage as her words hit him.

“And what of you, murderer?” Meldour whispered lowly, so only they could hear each other, “What will God say about you?”

“God abandoned me years ago,” Izzie informed the King who looked frightened by such a prospect, “Just as he will abandon you at the pearly gates,”

“God forgives,” Meldour spat in her face, “God forgives!”

“He doesn’t forgive murderers,” Izzie informed him as she stood once again and shared a look with Colt.

He seemed impressed and yet Izzie just felt cold and shaken; because what she had said was true.

God had abandoned her; the day she first killed an innocent she was abandoned but she had made a life for herself and she couldn’t live that life if she went along with this.

Izzie turned away and walked over to where the young maid had been resting against the wall before she disappeared and waited for Colt to being the proceedings so she was not watched.

Trailing her hand over the thick wooden wall, she felt a piece of panelling push in and a silent click fill her ears as a section of the wood flung inwards to reveal a hidden door.

Watching the others she stepped backwards into the tunnel and shut the door behind her which might not have been the best move as she was now shrouded in darkness with the only torch available gone with the maid before her.

Keeping her ears open, she reached out her fingers and trailed them along the brick and stone walls surrounding her.

She could still hear Colt and the others behind the panelling.

Too interested to see where this tunnel led and where the maid had gone, she reached her sword out in front of her and took a few hesitant steps.

It felt like she had been in this tunnel forever; she could be out under the forest by now but the stone surroundings and smell of wine in the air had her believe that she was still within the castle walls.

A few stones tripped her up along the way but she just kicked them aside as she pushed on and as she feared the tunnel would never end she saw a light.

It was only the flickering shadow of a lit torch under a doorway.

Doorway?

Izzie pushed on and found a same door as that she had entered from; but the voices behind the door were different.

Familiar.

“Drystan!?” Izzie frowned, what the hell was he doing here!? And how did he get into the castle!?

She placed her hand against the door, ready to open it, when she realised that she couldn’t let him see her.

She was the one who had murdered her own father and went off with the enemy.

They would kill her.

They would suspect her of spying and she knew, somehow, that Drystan would believe her. But the others wouldn’t and she couldn’t let Drystan become like her.

She had to do what she could from inside.

So, turning her back on Drystan and the others as their voices filled her ears, she pushed on down the tunnel, seeing Wherelse it might lead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the short update; I've been having some writers block lately. I hope you enjoy it though :)