Once upon a deception

Infiltrating the church 1

"You really should not be consulting witches. These are delicate times." Duke Malachi warned his wife. "The church might believe they have completely eradicated witchcraft in the city but that doesn't mean they won't try someone they suspect. The last thing I want is for you to destroy my plans with your antics. But, you might be on to something. I will keep my eyes peeled."

"That is all you have to say?" The duchess pursed her lips, wondering why her husband was so calm. The prophecy had sent unimaginable chills through her spine and she couldn't help but reconsider if her husband's dream to be King of Wohar was really worth playing a gamble on their lives.

Malachi's jaw tightened as he clamped his teeth. He did not have time for her antics this forsaken afternoon.

"What do you expect me to say? " He said through his teeth. "With all I have done through my years, I am bound to have a stockpile of enemies to contend with. I can not begin to rack my head to pinpoint who has suddenly gotten the balls to stand against me. But what I do know is if I don't end the tenure of Gareth, that weak priest. Our lives might be over before that ember becomes a flame."

"I thought you would have an idea of who it might be Malachi. Her prophesy scares me." She felt inclined to remind him.

The Grand duke squared his shoulders and reached for the door. "You really should stop worrying over some spineless prophecy of a volatile witch. Makes you look older than you are."

Malachi saw his wife shoot him a sideways glare just as the giant oak doors closed him. That ought to keep her busy, He thought.

"Sire, " A peculiar servant called out to the Duke, running towards the Lord with his head bowed in respect.

Malachi recognized him. He was a servant working for Gareth. A servant he had managed to buy so as to spy on Gareth's every movement. Even without the existence of some wretched prophecy, Malachi knew it was risky to trust the man. He had set in place checks to make sure nothing stood between him and that throne. If the servant was here, Malachi suspected he had bad news. It had to be the only reason the servant came.

"Speak." Malachi urged.

"With pleasure M'lord, " The servant shook his head like a nervous wreck. "Lord Gareth sent a letter to the King. They plan to meet in private by the lake of Mallow."

"When!" Malachi demanded tightly.

Shivering, The lowly man answered."Tonight my lord."

Malachi clicked his tongue. That backstabbing bastard was going to get what was coming to him. His lips squeezed together as he thought of the proper way to torture the man. He could very well just intercept Gareth before he reached the king and end the pathetic fawn's life but that would arouse suspicion. Then Malachi remembered the old man's well-kept secret. His daughter. Gareth had attempted to have her smuggled out of the Kingdom but considering I had eyes and ears in every nook and cranny of the Kingdom. He was still hesitant to make a move and that was his mistake.

***

As the morning wore on, Clarisse noticed the sky became a crisp blue with hardly a cloud. It had only been a day but they were fast approaching their destination. Lord Vincent had suggested taking the forest road would be quicker and he was right. They had swiftly passed from the mountainous wasteland of Bridgeiron and into fairer grounds.

By midmorning, they were within Mallow Forest, the woods that surrounded Bridgeiron and served as a continental divide between the “civilized” countries and kingdoms and the uncharted lands of the natives. Clarisse remembered her mother's stories about her adventures in those forbidden plains. She had called it home but she never got to see it again before her life was forcefully stuffed out. Remembering the horror she had to witness at that tender age made Clarisse's blood boil. She needed a source of distraction and her partner, the sulky lord was the only person who could do that for her at the time.

"Do you intend to ignore me forever?" Clarisse began, feeling her fingers through the mane of her mare as it pranced forward, neighing and panting.

The Lord frowned, surveyed her from head to toe before looking away.

"Can we just focus on the journey?" He sighed, tightening the rein of his horse and causing it to pause.

"I believe conversation makes the journey seamless." Clarissa counter attacked.

The lord nodded. "I agree. Can we talk about the stupid decisions youths of today make?"

"You speak as if you have never made an unwise decision yourself?" Clarisse batted her eyelashes and waited for his reply.

"I have." The Lord admitted. "I tried so hard to make sure you did not make the same mistake but you were just so blinded by revenge."

Clarissa felt a pang. Lord Vincent had been the epitome of perfect. He could never do any wrong by her. So his confession made her even more baffled. Did the Lord regret joining the cause?

"If I may ask, what was that decision?"

"What I am today doesn't feel wrong and I would not change it for the world...Not that I can anymore but when I joined the cause. It was out of anger. The insatiable rage of a boy who lost someone dear to his heart."

"You wanted revenge?"

"Yes, " He replied, looking in the distance like he was reminiscing a distant memory. "I got my revenge and a cause to fight for."

"And how was that an unwise decision? You are a hero to everyone in the village–"

"Because I've made sacrifices to make sure I live and bringing one of my people to infiltrate and kill the king or be killed is one of them."

Clarisse brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face. The lord could be a strange man that spoke in riddles. They did say war broke men. Lord Vincent seemed to notice the puzzled look on Clarisse's face because it made him tense. He almost did not want to say what resided at the back of his throat but before the Lord could clamp his lips shut, It was too late.

"Don't you get it?" He continued. "You are the sacrifice."