ROYAL BLOOD

The dark hour

Berth struck the matchstick and lit the only candle in the dark room.

The rain was drizzling outside, and the roofs were leaking.

Berth placed the candle stand on an old desk as she made her way into the room.

"Father, you have not touched your food." Berth said, approaching the old man who was on the bed, a blanket pulled over his body.

"Micah used to feed my food to me; I can't eat because I can't raise my right arm. You will know that if you have ever bothered to check up on me." The gruff voice of the old man came from across the room.

"Have you tried raising your arm at all? I mean, it could miraculously be healed, but you refuse to take any chances." Berth said as she sat beside him on the bed, and it creaked.

"Where is she? Where is Micah? The old man sounded pained.

"I do not know, Father…" Berth was interceded.

"Don't lie to me, child! The old man's voice was firm.

"Two days ago she told me she was going to the trade market to sell the farm's harvest, but she never returned." The old man sounded sad.

"I…Father? Something suddenly dawned on Berth.

"You what? Tell me, where is she? The old man shrilled.

"Father, you have been scolding me for more than a few minutes now, and you haven't coughed violently." Berth said, placing her hand on the old man's forehead.

She suddenly pulled the blanket away from the old man's body, and then languidly...she raised the long, worn-out garment he was wearing up to his knees. He was healed! Berth gawked at her father in astonishment.

"Father, Father, your legs! You…Micah did it! Micah's herbal medicine worked." Berth sounded surprised.

Suddenly there was silence; only the sound of droplets of rain on the roof could be heard.

Slowly the old man raised his right arm; he didn't shrill in pain. He moved his fingers and gazed at his hand with utmost disbelief.

"Good lords, have mercy! I can move my hands?! The old man suddenly tries to sit up.

"Father, be careful..." Berth cautioned as she placed a pillow behind his back.

He was now seated on his bed, but then instinctively the old man swung one of his legs over the bed, followed by his other leg. As if afraid, he slowly climbs down from the bed and rises to his feet.

"I…stand? I can stand! He exclaimed, then slowly took a step forward; soon he was walking around the room, like he was never in an ailment in the first place.

"Father, please sit down; you have taken in a lot in just a few minutes." Berth said, trying to make the old man sit, but he slapped her hand away.

"For two years I have lain on this bed, covered up like a dead corpse. I have not been able to walk, and when I talk, I cough violently. The shadows of this room were my only comfort zone. Now I can walk, and you ask me to sit? He said slowly, placing his hand on his waist.

"I need to know what your sister has been putting in my food. Micah is incredible; she can become a grand maester and work in powerful kingdoms." The old man exclaimed.

"Father..." Berth began in a low voice.

"I think I know where Micah is." She fondled her fingers as she talked, her face hanging down.

"But first you must have your meal, then I will tell you. I can even feed you if you want." Berth said, tapping the bed, signifying for the old man to take a seat.

"I will only eat once I know where Micah is; I can afford to lose one of you." The old man said, holding on to his waist, that he was hunched back. He slowly glided to where the bed was and sat down.

Berth's eyes became distant as she licked her lips.

"Micah went to see the king of Decreash to try to appease him to grant us our farm." The old man was already helping himself to some food, but the plate faltered from his hands immediately he heard what Berth said.

Suddenly his hands begin to shake.

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier? The old man quivered, his pupils dilating in fear.

"What would you have done, Father? Nothing! I have already lost hope in her return; I couldn't bother you with this news." Berth said without remorse.

"I am going to find my daughter." He said, slowly rising up to his feet, he walked up to the other side of the room and took hold of a bow and arrow hanging on the wall.

Suddenly the old man felt his back snap.

"Ahhh! He shrilled, placing his hand on his waist.

"Father? Berth said quickly, rising to her feet.

"Father, you need to rest; you only just recovered." She said calmly.

"I will not rest until I find my daughter." He groaned.

"Then I will come with you." Beth said, Walking up to him, she helped him hold on to the bow and arrow.

"You will go nowhere; stay here and wait for her return." He said, dragging out a dirty small bag from a broken drawer.

"Father, at least eat first." Berth said, but the old man shot her a deadly glare.

"You starved me for a day, then suddenly remembered to give me food today. Micah is the only person that cares about me; if I don't find her, I won't eat! He said, and Beth's shoulder dropped in defeat.

"Where will you go then? To the palace to command the king to hand over Micah?! Berth, he said, fists clenched.

"How sure are you that she is locked up somewhere in the palace? The old man arched his grey-colored brows.

"I know Micah; she loves you too much to have stayed out this long and not return home. She had told me she was going to the trade market, but she was clearly lying; she would have been back by now…" Berth paused, inhaled sharply, and then continued.

"We only had three days to talk to the King. Or else the farm would have been confiscated. She definitely went to the palace; I just know it." Berth concluded.

The old man was quiet for a while before speaking up.... "I will do what I have to do. If I don't come in a week's time, take my chest box along with you and leave this city." He said, dragging his feet on the wooden floor, which had some cracks.

"When will you leave?" Berth asked, peering at her father.

"I will set off first thing tomorrow morning; the palace is some few miles away from here. I only hope the donkey is in good shape." The old man said, peering through the window, he could see his donkey tied to a wooden stick inside its stable just across from the small house.

"Father Micah will never forgive me for letting you go out alone; the last thing I want is for her to be on my neck when she returns. I have already caused enough problems." Berth muttered the last sentence to herself, but the old man heard her clearly.

"What are you talking about? The old man suddenly turns to look at her. Berth had her gaze fixed on the ground.

"Berth, look at me." He commanded firmly. Berth slowly raised her gaze; the burning candlelightreflected in her black obsidian eyeballs.

"What did you do?!

...…..

A scream was heard in the dark night in the royal palace.

It was followed by another loud shrill, then suddenly whispers.

Ragaleon shot his eyes open; he swiftly made his way out of his bed. The first thing he reached out for was the arrow shooter under his bed.

He was wearing a black robe; his golden eyes darted to the entrance of his chamber. He quickly changes into a more decent outfit and steps out of his chamber.

His hair was packed up in a bun that fitted his handsome face.

"Your majesty." A guard suddenly calls out from nowhere; instinctively, Ragaleon turns around and shoots the guard without thinking first.

He soon realized it was one of his men, then sighed knowingly, then sighed knowingly.

"Your majesty." Another guard called as he made his way to where Ragaleon was. The guard suddenly forgot what he wanted to say when he saw the dead body of his colleague on the floor.

"Speak up! Is the palace under attack? Ragaleon?'s questioned firmly, the guard jolts back to consciousness.

"No...no, your majesty. Something seems to be happening in the guest house." The guard said after shifting his gaze away from the body on the floor.

"Shall I call someone to help him? The guard asks, pointing at the body.

"Don't even bother. The arrow was inserted in a poisonous fluid; he is going to die anyway." Ragaleon nonchalantly said before walking past the guard.

Ramah gazed at her brother, her blue eyes devoid of emotions. Her hand was crossed behind her back; she stood erect as she watched her mother cry while holding on to her brother, Diego.

"He is the future of Bethalone; he can't die, no! My son cannot die." A lady dressed in fine linens, purple in color with golden embroidery, cried as she gazed at the grown-up man in her hands.

There was white foam trickling down from the corner of Diego's lips. His face was pale, almost as if he would give up the ghost anytime from now.

"Somebody do something; my son cannot die like this—it is shameful! Moab, who had been patrolling up and down in the chamber, shrilled.

Suddenly an old man accompanied by guards entered the chamber. His grey hair spoke volumes about his years on earth. He was the grand maester, the person in charge of medical supervision in the palace.

The old man crouched down beside Diego and felt his pulse.

Suddenly Ragaleon makes an entrance, accompanied by two knights. Ramah had a straight face, but immediately she caught sight of him, and she faked a mournful appearance.

"My Lord, take a look at what they have done to my brother." She cried, falling at his feet.

Ragaleon slowly helped her up, then shifted his gaze to the scene in front of him.

"He can still be saved; quickly bring him to my chamber." The old man, he said, hurrying out of the chamber, but not before bowing to Ragaleon.

Some guards picked up Diego from the floor and carried him in their hands while following the grand maester.

"Ragaleon, is this how you repay our kindness, with treachery! Moab's fist was clenched. His wife had her face buried in between her legs on the floor as she cried her eyes out.

"Moab, watch your tongue; you are in my palace. I do not tolerate disrespect." Ragaleon calmly said, Ramah was clinging to him like she owned him.

Moan suddenly realized he had taken his words too far….

"Forgive me, your Majesty, but my son…" Moab apologized with a sour face and wanted to say something but was interrupted.

"I will see to it that your son gets justice; whoever did this will pay.

…with their life!