The Devastation (Unexpected Circumstances 7)

My introspections were cut short as the broken walls of Sterling Castle came into view.

There were forces guarding the front entrance though only very few. Most of the men there appeared to be carpenters and masons though what they were doing there I still didn’t know. The east tower was completely gone, and nothing but the rubble from the structure itself, furniture, and similar items seemed to be left. We easily disposed of the men and entered the castle through the hole where the tower used to be, immediately beginning our search. The upper rooms were cold and empty, and I tried not to stare too long at the bed where Alexandra and I had spent our first night after our wedding. I knew this castle like the back of my hand, and soon all the main rooms had been searched, save one.

Parnell joined me as we approached the great hall that had served as a meeting place for my father and his small court when he was Lord of Sterling. Parnell dispatched two men to guard the outer doorway, and we both entered the large room.

“Alexandra!” I screamed out.

There was a small part deep inside of me that knew I was near my breaking point. It was the part of me that never actually left the hiding place below the bench seat where I was entombed while my mother was brutalized. That part of me was trying to pull the rest of me back down into the darkness again—close the lid and seal me up tight so nothing could touch me. Nothing. No one. If I did not find her, that was where I would go—deep inside of myself—and I would likely never return.

I had never spoken to Alexandra or to anyone else about it, but that was exactly what I had done for a time as a child. After being taken to Sawyer and finding out how my parents had died, I had shut myself off from everyone and everything. I did not eat, or speak, or hear those around me. I did not even see anyone else as they tried to engage me in conversation or activity. I existed completely inside myself. Only Ida and her cries for me managed to bring me back.

Ida no longer needed her older brother, and if Alexandra was…

I did not dare think of it.

The great hall in Sterling Castle was modest and had never held actual thrones when the Sterling family occupied it. My father was a lord and a duke, not a king. Now, though, there was a throne sitting on its own in the center at the end of the hall. The same carved benches I recalled from my youth sat along the sides of the walls, but little else adorned the room.

Between two of the benches was a small door with a heavy bar across it. I knew exactly where it led though I could scarcely believe Whitney would have gone so far as to put my wife in the actual dungeon.

Of course she would have.

The skin of my arm rose in gooseflesh at the thought though I was still covered by heavy leather and chainmail. I quickly reached for the handle of the door as Parnell yelled at the other guards to secure the rest of the area. Beyond the door was a dark, narrow staircase on which I had trod only a handful of times in my life. Royalty did not venture down here if it could be avoided. I had to pull a torch from the wall at the bottom of the stairs to see my way down the dank corridor. With the torchlight flickering, casting eerie shadows, we turned the corner and approached the many barred doors of the Sterling Castle dungeon.

And that is when I heard Alexandra scream.

Chapter 4—Blessedly Reunited

I did not know whether my heart beat faster from elation or terror.

Though I had never heard such a sound come from Alexandra’s throat, I knew immediately that it was her. I did not know if it was the quality of her voice, the intonation, or perhaps just blind faith, but I knew my wife was there and crying out in pain.

She lives.

Nearly falling down the next set of steep stairs in the process, I raced as fast as I could toward the sound of her voice. I could hear and feel Parnell behind me as I rounded the corner and looked upon the rows of barred doors. Parnell was calling out to me—warning me to be cautious—but I barely heard his words in my haste. Alexandra was near, and she needed me. There was nothing and no one that could have slowed my pace.

The door toward the end of the dark corridor was partially open, and I could see flickering light coming from inside. I had to brace my heels into the dirt floor in order to stop as I turned from the hallway to the entrance to the cell. I shoved the door open, and my gaze fell on the two figures at the far side of the room.

One was Alexandra. She lay on the floor near the back wall on a bed of squalid, old straw with her legs curled up and her knees at her chest. Even as I entered, she cried out again, her body shaking with what appeared to be the sheer exertion of the scream.

The other figure was a guard with his back to me. He knelt on the ground in front of her, and his hands reached out to grab at her as she cried out. With my hand still grasping my sword, I approached him from behind with

every intention of ending his life without hesitation.

However, the way he held himself seemed familiar, and I recognized his frustrated groan, which stayed my hand. It had been many years, but this was a man I knew well. He turned at the sound of our entry, and I saw the deep scar across the face and the scruffy beard of the trusted cousin of my birth mother.

“Greysen!”

“My king!” he replied though his eyes showed no relief. He turned quickly back to Alexandra. “My king…I think…I believe the child is coming.”

As if on cue, Alexandra cried out. The sound was long and low, and Alexandra’s arms wrapped around her bulging stomach as she screamed. I almost pushed Greysen to the ground as I first knelt beside my wife and then lay myself next to her on the straw so I could reach her better. I held either side of her tear-stained face and made her look at me.

“Alexandra,” I whispered. I watched her eyes go wide before she burst into fresh tears.

“Branford! Branford!” she cried out. “Are you really here? Truly? Am I not dreaming?”

“I am here, my wife,” I said softly.

Alexandra seemed about to say something when she let out another long wail. I turned to Parnell.