Beatrice was speechless.
Prudence told her everything.
How she was shunned by her parents for loving Boniface.
How they eloped a year ago.
How she was sick and suffering.
How the Dragon Spawn saved her and her child.
About the man she killed and the one she controlled.
And how Boniface had been ripped away from her.
Beatrice glanced away and took a deep breath. “You have my deepest condolences for your husband. It sounds as though he was very much in love with ya.”
Prudence nodded. “He was my world.” Her eyes welled up.
Beatrice nodded solemnly. “You must remember, love, ‘tis not your fault he fell into misfortune.” She grasped Prudence’s hand. “And with your baby on its way, ya must choose how ya proceed with caution. This power…ya speak of, from the Dragon Spawn; do be careful with it, lass. As you said, you know not what it holds. Just know that I am here for you, as is Gregory. I must tell him, but we shall keep this between us.” She glanced in his direction.
Prudence nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. She knew that trusting Beatrice went hand in hand with trusting Gregory.
“I am glad ya told me,” Beatrice mentioned. “I believe in ya. Gramercy for trusting me with this. Today’s troubles have gone and now you may face tomorrow stronger than before.”
Prudence hugged her. “Gramercy, Beatrice,” she said kindly. “Truly, I am indebted to you, to the both of you.” She sighed. “If it is okay, I wish to sleep now.”
Beatrice nodded assuredly. “Indeed, I shall leave you be.” She smiled. “Do let me know if you need anything. Sleep well, love.” She stood up and touched Prudence’s shoulder. Then, she kindly walked away, giving her space. She couldn’t wait to tell Gregory about this surprising turn of events and the power of Dragon Spawn.
Prudence didn’t join them for supper. Even though the smoke from the fire-roasted chicken smelled delicious.
She fell asleep while feeling her baby kick.
Happy this battle of a day was finally over…
The church bells woke Prudence.
The sun broke the dark sky and called the birds to sing.
It was the hour of prime.
Prudence sat up. She wiped the sleep from her face.
She immediately remembered yesterday. It had an unrelenting grasp on her mind.
Her baby kicked.
Reminding her to not give up.
“Good mornin’, miss,” Conrad said. He was standing behind her.
Prudence turned and greeted him with a kind look, her eyes were a bit puffy. “Good morning,” she replied.
“Beatrice is in the garderobe,” Conrad said. “I took the liberty of fetchin’ you some fresh attire,” he said happily. He set down a new dress, gown, and shift on the edge of the bed. “Picked ‘em out myself I did.” He nodded with a smile. “She will help you get dressed. Meet me in the foyer when you are ready.”
Prudence nodded. “I shall. Gramercy, Conrad,” she said, grabbing the dress. It was beautiful in its shade of green.
Conrad winked and promptly left the room.
Beatrice exited the garderobe, yawning. She looked at Prudence. “Good morning, love,” she said, tying her hair in a ponytail. “Shall we?” She hinted at the dress.
Prudence entered the foyer in her new dress, feeling pretty.
Conrad smiled and walked up to her. He nodded confidently. “You look perfect,” he said happily. He shrugged cockily. “I figured you would. I have an eye for it.” He gestured towards his regal outfit.
Prudence smiled. “You do, indeed,” she agreed. “Well, what are your plans for us?”
Conrad glanced away. “I thought we might do a bit of sight seein’. Introduce you to a few of the merchants around here. ‘Tis good to have resources.” He nodded.
Prudence shrugged with a nod.
Realistically, there wasn’t much else to do anymore.
Now that Boniface was gone.
She smiled politely. “But first, have you any carrots?…”
Prudence walked out of the inn as Conrad held the door for her, the carrots in her satchel.
He followed along with her.
The air was crisp and smelled of the same lavender that was inside the inn. The sun had just begun its race across the sky.
They neared the stables.
The king’s men stood by the wagon that Prudence obtained from Aylsworth. More than a dozen of them.
They were searching the wagon.
Prudence stopped frozen in her tracks. Her heart immediately started racing.
Gregory was talking to one of the king’s men who wore a fiercer helmet than the rest.
Conrad looked at her. “Is something wrong?” he asked sincerely.
Prudence looked into his eyes, considering her options. She could tell him the truth or lie.
She chose the truth. “I must tell you something but you must keep it between us,” she said.
Conrad nodded vehemently. “Of course.”
“That is my wagon those guards are searching,” Prudence said.
Conrad looked at the king’s men and the wagon.
Gregory locked eyes with him. He waved at them to come over.
Conrad glanced at Prudence excitedly. “It shall be our little secret,” he said assuredly. “I enjoy a bit of danger.”
Prudence took a deep breath and they continued walking.
“Why are they searching your wagon?” Conrad whispered.
“It belonged to a healer who was involved with the theft of the king’s crown yesterday,” she replied quietly.
“You played a part in that?” Conrad asked, surprised, darting his eyes at her. “Does Beatrice know?”
Prudence wasn’t sure how to answer. “I did not intend to be involved, but yes, and she does know.”
“Gregory must know then, he will not tell them anything,” Conrad said, shaking his head. “There is much more to you than meets the eye.” He smiled, impressed with her.
Prudence made a face of agreement. “‘Tis not even the half of it. I will tell you more later.”
Conrad agreed with a soft bump of his elbow and a nod.
Gregory put his hand out toward them. “Conrad,” he said, glancing at the guard. “This is Cassian, the head of the king’s men.”
Conrad nodded and shook his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, sir,” he stated.
Cassian nodded, he looked at Prudence. “And who is this?” he asked.
Gregory looked at her politely. “This is Prudence, one of our guests.”
Prudence glanced at Cassian, he frightened her.
His height and demeanor towered over them.
“Conrad is in charge of the entries and departures,” Gregory said kindly.
Cassian nodded, he motioned toward the wagon. “Do you know who this cart belongs to?” he asked Conrad.
Conrad looked at the wagon. “Unfortunately, no,” he answered and shook his head.
Cassian’s impatient stare drilled into him.
“We do not keep track of who uses the stables. We simply maintain them,” Conrad continued, staring back at him confidently. “Why is it in question? Should we be concerned?”
Cassian shook his head. “We are searching for someone who may have taken part in the theft of his majesty’s crown. I shan’t say more, so do not ask. I need the names of all who arrived yesterday.” He looked at Prudence. “When did you arrive?”
Prudence looked into his eyes, she concentrated.
Conrad glanced at her.
“Three days ago,” she lied.
Gregory looked at her without missing a beat. He would lie for her too if he must.
“Tell us everything you have discovered thus far,” Prudence said firmly. She sought what he knew.
She Puppeted him.
Cassian nodded like a child submitting to their parent. “We captured our primary thief yesterday. Though, he did not have the crown, nor would he tell us its location. The executioner decided the torture was not going to be successful, so the thief was executed. We heard tell of another man that may have been with the thief, riding from the kingdom shortly after we apprehended him…”
Conrad and Gregory looked at each other in surprise at how much information Cassian was giving Prudence.
“…we pursued this lead and found the man who we now assumed to be an accomplice, almost an hour south of here. He was dead.” He took a breath. “It looked as though someone took a blade to his neck. We searched his dwelling and found the crown; we also found a severed arm. Then, we found another man in the vicinity, also dead, the arm belonged to him. This man was…mutilated. One of my men vomited upon the sight of him. That man was later identified by his brother. We believe there may be one more suspect who killed these men, and that is who we are searching for. Did the wagon travel all this way by itself? I think not.” He cleared his throat.
Prudence looked at Gregory and Conrad with a curious look.
They watched her in confusion.
A guard pointed another man in their direction.
“Who captured Boniface?” Prudence asked.
The man came over, abruptly interrupting their conversation. “Cassian,” he said sourly. “Have you really not found who the wagon belongs to?” He looked at the three of them.
He was a large surly man with a messy beard and a pompous glare. He had a long sword at his side and a silver medallion hanging from his neck with the face of a wolf crafted into it. He looked familiar. “I will destroy the man that slaughtered Grindan.”
“No you will not, Elrik,” Cassian replied sternly. “We are in charge. We do not need you, or your brother’s…acquaintances, to impede our work.”
Prudence looked at the man scornfully. He was Grindan’s brother.
The man, Elrik, leaned back with a vicious face. “We shall see who gets to him first, Cassian,” he muttered, walking away to a large group of men who awaited him.
Cassian glared at him. Then, looked at Gregory. “Apologies,” he said.
“Grindan of Norwich?” Gregory asked. “He died?”
Cassian nodded. He looked at Prudence. “I apprehended Boniface Crawford,” he answered her lingering question as he turned to walk away from them.
Prudence’s gaze hardened. She was distracted by her thoughts.
Cassian looked at Conrad. “The names, if you will, now.” He looked at Gregory. “Your assistance is noted.” He nodded and walked away.
“Best oblige him, Conrad,” Gregory said.
Conrad nodded. He glanced at Prudence. “I will be but a moment,” he said and promptly walked away.
Gregory looked at Prudence.
She was still staring at Cassian, her hardened gaze grew furious.
She wanted to kill him.
“Are you okay?” Gregory whispered.
Prudence glanced at him and sighed. She nodded, looking into his eyes. “‘Tis my wagon in question,” she whispered. “My husband is dead because of that man.” She looked at Cassian.
Gregory raised his eyebrows, glancing at him. “‘Tis a tragic shame what happened to your husband,” he returned a whisper, seeing this once timid young woman now overcome with spite. “Though you just made easy work of Cassian.” He tried to distract her. “You made the man meager as a boy. Remind me to never cross you, Prudence.” He chuckled with a smile.
Prudence slowly grinned. She was happy she still had the Dragon Spawn’s power. It was indeed helpful.
“Whatever may come to pass, we will stand by you,” Gregory said, nodding assuredly, glancing at her pregnant belly. “And your baby.” He smiled. “What do you hope it will be? A boy or a girl?”
Prudence looked down at her belly and felt a kick. She nodded. “A boy,” she said positively.
Gregory smiled. “Have you a name picked out?”
Prudence nodded. “Frederic,” she said.
Gregory nodded. “Frederic. ‘Tis a perfect name,” he replied happily. “Beatrice may be afraid to ask you this, and she will know it came from me…but, she wishes to be your midwife when the time comes. She told me so last night. She is quite excited for you.”
Prudence raised her eyebrows and smiled. She was delighted by how much love Beatrice had in her heart. “Your wife truly is the kindest person I have ever met,” she said. “I would be honored.”
Gregory smiled. “As would she, my dear,” he replied. ‘Tis a great journey having a child. Our children are Cenric, Edgar, and Sophronia.” He smiled at the thought of them. “Sweet little terrors they are.” He chuckled. “Speaking of my children, I must go make sure they are awake.” He started toward the inn. “Do be safe today with Conrad.”
Prudence nodded with a smile. “Of course,” she said. “Gramercy, Gregory.”
Gregory nodded kindly and walked away.
He didn’t get far before he was stopped by Elrik and a few of his men.
Elrik got in his face. “If you are keeping secret who that wagon belongs to, peasant, I will make you suffer. Beatrice is it not? That is your wife?” He smiled deviously.
Prudence hurried over.
Gregory pushed him away. “Keep her name from your mouth, swine!” he shouted.
Elrik pushed him back and drew his sword. His men supported his every move.
Cassian looked over, hearing Gregory. He started running over to them with his gear clanking against his body. Some of the king’s men followed.
Prudence looked into Elrik’s eyes. “Stop,” she demanded. “Or you will share the same fate as your brother.” Her heart was pounding in her chest.
Elrik looked at her in confusion and put away his sword. His men were surprised that he obeyed.
“What is this then?” Cassian asked strongly. “Elrik, must you be so thick-headed? You and your men must leave. Now.” He pointed away.
Elrik glared at Prudence. “What do you mean I will share the same fa—”
“NOW. ELRIK,” Cassian reasserted.
Elrik spat by Prudence’s feet. “You are marked, wench.”
Gregory stood in front of her. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” he told him. “Pathetic, you threatening women.”
Elrik sneered at him and Cassian once more, then walked away.
Cassian sighed. He looked at Gregory and gave him a nod. He, and the other guards with him, followed Elrik to ensure he left.
Gregory watched them and glanced at Prudence who was staring at the back of Elrik’s head. “Gramercy, Prudence,” he said.
Prudence knew she had to be very careful now. But she wanted to kill him, just like she wanted to kill Cassian. She took a deep breath, trying to calm these thoughts.
“Who was Grindan of Norwich?” she asked.
Gregory glanced at Elrik. “Where to begin?” he said. “Most prominently, he was a warlord in Northumbria, once revered, turned felon. He became a ruthless leader of bandits and thieves, being the reason for many atrocities over the years. Yet his men have always gladly taken the blame, assuring his continued reign. But now he is dead. You have met his brother. That sordid scab of a man.”
Prudence locked eyes with Gregory. “I killed Grindan,” she whispered.
Gregory raised his eyebrows. He stroked his beard thinking about it. “Why?” he asked. “A proper well done from me to you, of course, but why?”
Conrad was out and walking over to them.
“Grindan was the one who killed the healer, then he tried to kill me,” Prudence answered. “I knew not who he was at the time. Now we know.”
Gregory shook his head in bewilderment. “Please, do be careful, Prudence,” he begged her.
Conrad looked at them. “I missed somethin’,” he said. “I can tell. What transpired?”
Gregory kindly rested his hand on Prudence’s shoulder. “Prudence can enlighten you, my friend. I must return to Beatrice.” He nodded at them and left.
Conrad looked at her. “Well?” he asked.
Prudence motioned toward her mare in the stables…
They gently rode away from the inn sitting on a cart with a topless bed pulled by two horses. One of them, Prudence’s mare.
Conrad adjusted the reins and shook his head which was overflowing with information. “So Elrik is now our enemy. You killed Grindan of Norwich. He killed the healer who saved you with the Dragon Spawn. The healer was with Boniface who stole the crown. And Cassian, who is now also a danger to be around, caught Boniface. Heavens, this was all yesterday?” He looked at her.
Prudence nodded with a grim look at how it was all summed up. “‘Is it still our little secret?”
Conrad nodded. “Wholeheartedly, yes,” he assured her. “I just cannot fathom how you are so composed through all of this.”
“Composed?” Prudence asked. “You think so?”
Conrad looked away. “If it was me, I would be inconsolable.” He shook his head. “You are quite courageous, for standing up to Elrik. Are you certain you can handle it?”
Prudence looked at him. “You did not see what I did to Grindan,” she affirmed. “I can handle it.” She adjusted the way she was sitting. The baby was kicking a lot right now. “That man is vile.”
“You could just kill him, then,” Conrad suggested calmly. “Like you did Grindan.” He looked at her as innocently as he could with such a request.
Prudence looked at him curiously.
“Grindan’s lot is deplorable. They have harmed so many lives. Murdered countless, and raped more.” He looked seriously at her. “My sweet Colette,” he said softly. “She was my love. They took her from me, defiled her.” He shook his head and sighed. “Killed herself she did. Four years ago.” He made a face of normalcy, pushing himself to forget it again. “Forgive me, Prudence. Perhaps I spoke out of turn.”
Prudence’s face saddened, she felt the pain emanating from him. She felt the pain from her own loss.
Her sweet Boniface.
Her pain turned into uncontainable rage.
“I will kill him,” Prudence said sharply. “It does not need to be said again. I will do it.”
Conrad looked at her carefully. “I shall help however I can,” he said with a nod. “Many people will surely be thankful. At peace.”
Prudence nodded.
Then, she thought about what she had just agreed to.
It just came out.
I will kill him, she thought.
Her heart started racing. Why would she say that? It wasn’t like her.
The Dragon Spawn’s power became stronger the longer it was within her.
She didn’t know what was worse, the fact that she actually wanted to kill these men or the fact that it would be easy for her to accomplish.
They soon arrived at the first merchant, Osmond.
“How do you do, Conrad?” Osmond said, spotting the two of them coming closer, sitting on the cart.
Conrad pulled the cart up and they dismounted.
“I am well, old friend,” Conrad said. “I have a lovely lady with me today.” He looked at her with a smile. “Osmond, this is Prudence.”
Prudence politely nodded at Osmond, looking into his eyes. “‘Tis good to meet you,” she said.
“And you, miss,” Osmond replied. “A beautiful day, is it not?”
“Yes, yes,” Conrad said hurriedly. “I had wished to show Prudence your jewelry but I have changed my mind, my friend. We have a busy day ahead of us.”
Osmond nodded.
“Your blades, please,” Conrad requested.
“Indeed,” Osmond said with a smile. “Quite the selection I have.” He leaned over and grabbed a large leather bag. He opened it and carefully dumped out a plethora of blades in various sizes.
“Go ahead and pick one,” Conrad said to Prudence.
She glanced at them and perused through her options.
She picked up one blade, then another. Measuring how they felt in her hand.
Then she picked up one more.
A dagger in a sheath. She revealed it, sliding it out. It gleamed in its silver finish and had a double-sided blade sharpened to perfection. The steel hilt was wrapped tight in leather providing a superior grip.
The pommel was shaped to a point that also allowed for lethal bashing.
For its size, it felt quite heavy.
“This one,” Prudence said, squeezing the handle.
Osmond nodded with a smile. “Excellent choice, miss,” he said. He looked at Conrad. “‘Tis one of the strongest blades I have. Whatever it is you intend to use it for, it shall surpass your expectations.”
Conrad looked at the dagger in agreement. “‘Tis for Prudence.” He glanced at her kindly. “What shall it cost?” he asked.
Osmond looked at Prudence with slight confusion and a polite smile. He was not one to question others. “Well if that is the case, consider this my gift of congratulations for your baby-to-be. Wield it with purpose and it shall do exactly as you ask.”
Prudence was surprised. “Are you certain?” she asked.
Osmond nodded profusely. “Absolutely, ‘tis yours,” he replied.
Prudence smiled. “Gramercy, Osmond,” she said gratefully.
Conrad looked at her. “It seems I will have to take you with me every time I head to market,” he said cleverly.
Osmond smiled. “You may still buy one, Conrad.” He giggled. “And I can charge ya double.”
Conrad laughed and shook his head. “It was good to see you, Osmond. Gramercy, my friend.”
Osmond nodded. He looked at Prudence kindly. “Best of luck to you, miss, ‘twas a pleasure.”
Prudence nodded with a smile, holding the dagger. She turned with Conrad and they left Osmond.
They rode away.
Coming to some trees a while later, Conrad looked at Prudence. “So, what other powers do you have?” he asked.
Prudence shrugged. “I know not,” she answered. “I did stop time it seemed, when I was in the tavern yesterday.” She subtly played with the dagger that was now strapped to her body.
“Stopped time?” Conrad asked, surprised.
Prudence nodded. “The world was frozen in place, all except for me.”
Conrad widened his eyes. “Phenomenal,” he said excitedly. “Do you think you will have these powers forev—”
Conrad gasped and jolted where he sat.
Prudence darted her eyes at him.
He grasped his right arm, an arrow impaled him.
Going through the back of his arm and into his lung.
He shook with a face of agony and couldn’t speak.
Prudence was ignited with caution. She looked in the direction that the arrow came from.
She saw a man in the distance.
He had a bow and let another arrow go.
She stopped it in mid-air.
She didn’t even move to do so.
The arrow stood stationary, still spinning.
It whistled back through the air with blinding speed and went right through the man.
Through his head, painted red, and deep into a tree behind him.
She quickly looked around.
She saw another man who was stunned, like a gazelle seeing a lion. He immediately turned around and started running away.
Conrad groaned, he was in debilitating pain.
Prudence glared furiously and let the man leave.
She had to tend to Conrad.
“Let me see,” she exclaimed.
Conrad turned as best he could. He tried not to cry but each breath was like a stab to the chest. His once fair skin was turning pale.
She looked at his bloody injury sympathetically.
“Look at me,” she said. “You will not feel pain while this arrow is in you,”
Conrad nodded, looking into her eyes. His contorted face became calm. His eyes opened wide. “You are an angel,” he whispered in awe.
He touched the arrow. His pain was gone but his panic had returned, literally feeling his body hold an arrow stiff within him.
Prudence looked at the center of the arrow that was connecting his arm to his back. “Do not move,” she told him. She pulled out her dagger and cut upwards, the expertly crafted blade cut through the wood with ease.
Back and forth she pulled the blade. Careful not to touch his skin.
Finally, the arrow snapped, and Conrad was able to move his arm free.
Prudence carefully pulled the back of the arrow out of his arm. Her hand now colored with his blood. She looked at the hole it had left.
She wished it would close up, that the hole would fill back up with his flesh.
To her astonishment, it did.
She concentrated, forcing the tissue back together with only her mind.
As though invisible stitches reconnected the skin and muscle. Leaving a peculiar scar that looked like the layers had swirled together.
A blurred mark left in permanence.
She looked at the rest of the arrow that was in his back.
She did not dare try to remove it. “Where is a healer?” she asked frantically. “Where can we go?”
“Back to the inn,” Conrad replied quietly, sitting as stabilized as he could.
Prudence nodded and quickly took hold of the reins. She turned the horses around and sped off.
They soon arrived…
By the entrance of the inn, Prudence went to help Conrad down from the cart.
Conrad shook his head with a wheeze. “I feel I may faint if I move. Find Beatrice or Gregory.”
Prudence quickly nodded.
People were running past them in a panic.
More and more, running outside—all in a frenzy.
All of them with tormented faces.
Something had happened inside the inn.
Prudence quickly entered.
She stood frozen for a moment as soon as she crossed the threshold.
Slowly moving forward.
There was blood everywhere.
Four men were killed.
They lay on the floor by the stairs and the corridor.
Their bodies—the source of all the blood.
One of the men…
Was Gregory.
Prudence quickly knelt down by him. “No!” she yelled, her heart was racing. “No, no! Gregory!” She rested her hands on his chest and shook him in hopes that he would respond; covering her hands in his blood.
He felt heavy and empty.
He was gone and all that was left was his shell.
Prudence looked around in a panic, breathing heavily. “Beatrice!” she yelled. She stood up and ran to their room, the entry was slightly opened. She burst through the door.
“Beatrice!” Prudence yelled again.
She lost her breath and her heart dropped.
There she saw them, by the kitchen.
On the floor.
Prudence started crying. Her vision grew blurry from the overwhelming tears.
She dropped to her knees, sobbing.
Staring at them.
Her body trembled with sorrow and pain.
Beatrice, and her children, were dead.
Murdered.
Massacred.
And clutched in Beatrice’s fingers—was the silver medallion with the face of a wolf upon it.
That belonged to Elrik.
Crawford 