Deck of Cards (5 page)

“Well, now,” Matthew said, settling down next to the door and sliding a piece of charcoal into the slot to hold it open so that he would not have to.  “If I don’t know your name, perhaps I could guess it.”

Katey smiled, doubtingly.

“No? You don’t think that I am capable of guessing your name?”

Again, Katey shook her head.

“I see!
I’ve been challenged.” He picked up a piece of the ham that she had brought to him and began chewing and thinking simultaneously.  “This is very good by the way.  Would you like some?”

Katey shook her head.  How
kind was this man to offer to share his food with her when he was starving and she was free to eat as much as she liked whenever she liked?

“Alright then.  You have beautiful blue eyes and your hair is . . . oh, red, I see.  How beautiful!”  Katey held a loose lock of hair through the slot so that he could see. “Hmmm, perhaps your name
is. . . .Scarlet?”  He asked.  She shook her head no.  “Not Scarlet. Anything to do with having red hair?”  Again, the answer was no.  “Alright. Well, it’s probably not Bluey so I’m assuming it has nothing to do with having blue eyes either then? No. Okay, well, then, I’ll just guess names until I get it right.  How about Myrtle?” He heard no sound but could tell by the slight vibration in the door that she was laughing. “No?  Something less hideous then?  Perhaps your name is Grace or Mary then?”  Again she shook her head. “Nothing biblical?  Maybe you are right. Maybe I’m not good at guessing names.”  He faked a sigh of disdain.  “I guess, I’ll just have to give you a new name then. How about,” he paused in thought and then it came to him.  “How about Angel?”

Katey smiled.  How wonderful was it that she thought of him as an angelic creature! She nodded her head happily.

“Angel it is then!” he proclaimed.  “Now, my sweet Angel, shall I try to guess your station?”

Katey really preferred to stay as anonymous as possible so she rapidly shook her head in the negative.

“No? You don’t want me to figure out that you are the Queen of Clovington?”  Katey shuddered for a moment, afraid he had figure out her identity, but then he added, “No, Queen-Mother Agnes is probably too old and frail to climb the stairs.”  Again, Katey laughed.  Philip’s mother was shut up in a room somewhere on the other side of the castle. She kept to herself and he hardly mentioned her.  She was no longer the queen since her husband had passed, but many people still referred to her as Queen Agnes as a sign of respect. Katey had met her only once and her disposition was almost as nasty as her son’s had been last night.

“Well, I can tell by your gown that you are not
a chamber maid or a serving wench.  I suppose you must be fairly important.  Perhaps someday you will tell me all about your adventures and what it is like to live on the other side of this door.”

Again, Katey looked down at her hands, twirling her ring around her finger.  Perhaps someday she would be able to tell him. But not today and not any time soon.  The thought of speaking had crossed her mind from time to time over the years but she had always suppressed it.  There was no way to un-speak the last utterance that had come out of her
mouth and she was unable to bear the thought of ever causing such devastation again. The likelihood of Katey ever speaking another word was almost as minuscule as the possibility that King Matthew would someday walk out of his prison cell a free man.

“You know, I wasn’t always the dashing rogue you see before you,” Matthew relayed, happy to have someone to talk to, even if she would not t
alk back.  “Oh, no, before I became the ruler of this lavish villa, I lived a completely different life.”  Reflecting on his home, on Zurconia and Arteria made him long for his freedom, for his friends and family. But it was therapeutic to talk about it and so he continued. “I once had a beautiful wife.” He allowed himself to caress her memory for a moment, to linger in the presence of her existence and acknowledge his queen for the amazing being she had been. He leaned back against the door, no longer able to see Katey’s eyes, which actually allowed the words to flow more freely.

“Her name was Margaret, but I called her Maggie.  And she was gorgeous.  Green eyes—the most beautiful green eyes you can imagine. She had this way of laughing, just slightly louder than yours actually,” he teased, “ but so pleasant, like the pitter-patter of rain gently rolling off of the window.  That is, if your windows have panes,” he said his reality drawing him slightly back to his current location.  “Oh, how I miss her.  While I’m here,” he began, not sure if he should actually give voice to the ideas in his head, her silence beckoning him to continue, “While I’m here, I tend to pretend that she is back home, back in Zurconia, doing the things we loved to do together.  Or working on her embroidery.  Oh, how she loved to embroider.  Do you like to embroider?”  He paused in his story to look through the door at Katey.  She was hanging on his every word and nodded her head in affirmation.  “Yes, I’m sure you do. You are a Lady, definitely a Lady.  Anyway, Maggie was such a seamstress.  Whenever I’d get a rip or a tear of any sort, she’d patch it up herself. Can you imagine?  The Queen doing her own patchwork?  Or a King bothering with patchwork for that matter.  But she enjoyed it.  She enjoyed taking care of me, being my wife. I was so lucky,” he paused for a second, reflecting again on all that he had lost. “So very lucky indeed.” 

He was quiet for a moment and Katey felt so very sorry for him.  She was actually holding back tears, though she was hoping he would not know.  She didn’t want to embarrass him or make him feel like he should not have told her.

“Well, enough of that depressing story!” he proclaimed swiveling back to face her.  “What about you, Angel, do you have a husband?” 

Katey hesitated, not exactly sure how to answer that.  She glanced down at her hand again.  No wedding ring, that was true.  She shook her head, indicating that she was not married.

“A beau then?”

Again, she had to shake her head no.  After the horrendous events of last night, she certainly could not consider Philip a beau.

“Really?  Sweet little thing like you with no suitors?”

Katey shrugged.  She couldn’t say that she didn’t have any suitors, just no husband and no beau.

“Well, then, I guess Castle Blackthorn is an even stranger place than I thought. Letting beautiful little angels flitter around the castle, unwed and unspoken for.  Interesting!”  Katey couldn’t help but chuckle. And she couldn’t help but find herself drawn to this amazing man, still able to find a sense of humor even in these most dire of circumstances.

“Tell me, Love, do you know anything of the advance of the Arterian army?”

Katey knew this subject was bound to arise if she stayed long enough.  She teetered on
concealing the information she had, simply because she didn’t want to give him false hope.  However, from the sounds of it, Caleb would be knocking on the door of Castle Blackthorn any day now and then it would be in Matthew’s interest to know of his arrival so he could prepare. It would go one of two ways. Either he would be rescued or executed in advance of his brother’s arrival.  In fear of the later, Katey decided to indicate to Matthew that she did have some information.

Matthew was relieved to see that Katey had news of his brother.  Now to figure out how to get her to tell him
precisely what it was. “King Caleb, he’s close, isn’t he?” Again, Katey affirmed his believe. Matthew gave a small sigh.  “Any idea how far away?” She didn’t shake her head no, so Matthew thought it looked promising.  “Is he advancing quickly? Is Philip anticipating his arrival at Blackthorn?  Is that why he rode out so early this morning, to inspect the army?” Katey indicated yes to each of these questions so he continued.  “What are they thinking, a week?  Two weeks?” At this Katey shrugged.  She had heard estimates of time from both Philip and Edward but there were so many factors that could impede Caleb’s progress.  She didn’t really know how to answer him.

“Alright then,
” Matthew said, nodding his own head.  This all seemed promising to him. One way or another, he would be out of this tower soon.  Now, however, he felt a little more alive and a little more like there might be something to live for after all.

He didn’t speak for a few moments, reflecting on the information he had just received. Katey stirred and he came back to reality.  “I’m so sorry,” he said, remembering he actually had company. “I shouldn’t be bombarding you with so many questions.”

Katey opened her eyes widely and shook her head, hoping he would understand that she meant it was fine. She wanted him to feel comfortable enough to ask her anything.  However, as much as she was enjoying spending time with King Matthew, she knew the day grew long and she should probably get back down to her room before Joan started looking for her or the king arrived back from his inspection.

She wasn’t sure how to indicate to Matthew that she needed to go, so she began to slowly gather her things. “Are you leaving?” he asked, startled. “It’s not because I asked too many questions is it?”  Again, she shook her head no. She wished she knew how to indicate the time but with no pocket watch, it seemed impossible.  She gestured toward the arrows slits with her head and he turned around for a second, but she could tell
by the furrow in his brow that he did not understand what she was trying to say.  “What? I’m sorry I don’t understand.”  This time she pointed with her finger, which barely fit through the slit in the door. “Oh, the window, uh, arrow slit?  Hmm? What could that mean,” Matthew wondered allowed.  He knew they weren’t under attack. “Oh, it’s getting late.  The King.  You need to get back before you’re discovered.”  She was nodding along with each statement, confirming what he was saying. “I see.  I understand.” He was clearly disappointed, which made Katey both a little sad and secretly happy that she would be missed. “Will you come back tomorrow?” he asked, his face pressed against the opening.

Katey smiled.  Yes, of course she would, she nodded.

“Good! Good.”  He sat back a bit. “Well, thank you for coming.  Thank you for listening to me and for all of your gifts. You’re truly a heaven-sent angel, my Angel.” He tried to squeeze his finger through the narrow slit but found it difficult.  He switched to his little finger and was able to just get it through. 

Katey was just about to stand when she saw his finger sticking precariously through the door. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do.  She knew he must
be longing for human contact, gentle human contact, so she interlocked her pinky finger around his and gave it a gentle squeeze. With that motion, she realized just how starved for affection she was herself.  After a few seconds, she let go, gathered her basket and other items and turned to go.

Matthew heard her descending the stairs when he suddenly remembered his request. “Angel!” he shouted through the slot, “Wait!”

Katey paused about six steps from the top of the stairwell.  She promptly turned around and hurried back up the stairs.  Bending down next to the slot, she waited to see what he needed.  “Do you think that knife will fit through the slot?” he asked. Katey dug through the basket for the little knife she had used to cut open the stem.  The blade was small and thin but the handle was a little thicker.  Still, she thought it just might go through with a little coaxing.  She stuck the blade through first and it went easily enough.  Then, she began to wiggle the handle back and forth. If it had been against the wood, it would have been easier but the metal frame was holding it up.  Finally, after several seconds of pushing and praying, she was able to get it to slide through.

“Yes!” Matthew proclaimed, catching it by the handle before it hit the ground. “Oh, thank you so much! I can’t tell you how much I
appreciate this!

Katey wondered what in the world he intended to do with the knife, hoping he wasn’t planning to stab Edward and make an escape. 
She was afraid he would never make it out of the castle alive. But she had no way of asking and she was really starting to worry about the time so she gathered up her things again and turned to go.   As she began to descend the stairs once more, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw Matthew’s smiling eyes peering through the slot, watching her walk away. For the first time in a long time, Katey had a reason to smile.

   
                                    ***

Caleb was also contemplating a first in a long time situation.  As much as he wanted to stay at the castle and continue to receive updates from the doctor, he really needed to get back to the front lines. Unlike some kings, Caleb preferred to be in the thick of it with his troops. Though his generals and other cabinet members forbid him from actually participating in the battles themselves, he occasionally found a way into the foray.  At the very least, he was able to see first hand what was happening with his army and direct their attacks himself.  He had created a well-oiled machine, one capable of destroying any enemy and it was just a matter of time before Clovington fell
, whether he was with his army or not.  But if he was with his army it would be faster.  And he would have a better chance of getting to his brother before anything happened to him.

As he stood on the balcony next to his bedchamber, looking out over the courtyard in front of the castle, he contemplated the possibilities of Philip actually doing something as idiotic as executing Matthew just to piss Caleb off even more.  He constantly reassured himself that even Philip was not so stupid. Yet, there was a nagging voice inside of his
head that made him think the possibility was there. Philip had invaded Zurconia on a whim, pushed along by the unreasonable chatter of his insane, power-hungry uncle, hell-bent on gaining vengeance for a brother long dead. He ran his hand through his short, light-brown hair, contemplating what to do.  Just when he had determined he didn’t need to go, he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see his most trusted advisor, Noel, stepping lively, as if he was on a mission,