“Summoned? By whom?”
“King Magnusson, my lady.”
Why would the king want to see her? She held no title or land and was no one of importance. Nervously, she looked back at Bram. Biting her bottom lip, Lara followed the guard down the long hallway, with Bram following closely behind.
Eric stood next to the windowsill, staring out into the valley below. Heated by his discussion with William, he was convinced that William had lied. His story did not make any sense and was full of holes, as if he purposely meant to keep out important details. Eric may have been old and his memory had been fading from time to time since his illness, but he was not daft enough to overlook such. He needed to be able to trust William and his son.
His decision to fabricate the relationship of John as his cousin’s son, allowing him to take the throne, had not come easy. But his hatred for his brother made the decision vital for his people and all of Norway. His brother did not support the war with Denmark, which was critical for Norway to maintain political power. He feared that if his brother became king, Norway would fall into the hands of either the English or the French.
William sat quietly across the room from where Eric was standing. Both of them waited for Lara to arrive. William tried to speak to defend himself, and tried to convince him that his daughter was daft and did not know how to present herself in front of royalty, but Eric would hear none of it. He would meet the lass and calm his wife’s worry.
Chapter 22
Standing in front of the tall wooden door, Lara swallowed hard. It was nerve-wracking enough having to speak to the queen, but speaking to the King created an entirely different whirl of emotions. The doors to the library were carved with tiny spiral designs, and looked more like a work of art than just a door. Lara thought that even the handle was too fancy for such a simple object. Nervously, she grabbed onto Bram’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Bram returned the grip with equal pressure.
“Ye will be alright,” Bram said, as he placed a soft kiss to her forehead.
All Lara could do was smile. She had never been so nervous in her life. As the guard turned the handle, he pushed the door inward. The bright light from the room lit the dark corridor. Inside, Lara could see her father with King Magnusson, who was standing by the window with his back towards her.
Dropping Bram’s hand before her father could see their display of affection, Lara slowly crept inside the room. As she stood in the center of the room, the guard excused himself and closed the door behind him. Lara looked over at her father. Seeing the anger painted on his face, Lara looked down, feeling like the ungrateful daughter she had been over the past two days. She had openly dishonored and defied him, and knew that her actions could have severe consequences.
Lara did not realize what she had done by coming here. It was because of her that Dermot had followed her here, and it was because of her that he was dead. What made matters worse was that she brought dishonor to her family, and was sure that the king would punish her and her father for her disobedience. She could do only one thing - ask King Magnusson to spare her family and her family’s name, and she would accept whatever punishment he saw fit.
“Yer majesty, my Lord. It is me that ye have quarrel wit, no’ my father or my brother. Laird Moray came here fer me, and I alone am responsible fer his actions here today. Fer that I know that I must be punished,” Lara said bowing to him.
Staring down at the floor, she did not dare raise her gaze, for doing so would show as much insult as if she were to tell the King he smelled of horse dung.
Eric kept his eyes fixed on the scenery below his window. He was taken aback by the girl’s words. Never would he have thought that William would have raised such an outspoken daughter. He took a sip of his whiskey and turned to face the bold lass standing in the middle of the room.
At the sight of her, he felt as if his heart stopped beating. His breath seized. Eric’s reaction caused him to loosen his grip on his tankard of whiskey. As if the room stood still, the mug crashed onto the floor and shattered. The sound of tiny fragments scattering across the wooden floor, echoed throughout the room. In the pit of his stomach, he felt an overwhelming sense of anger and sadness colliding within him like an angry storm. He felt cold, yet began to sweat profusely, and suddenly found it hard to breathe.
In a trembling voice, he murmured, “Margaret? But you’re dead!”
“Nay, my Lord, my name is Lara Fergusson. I mean, Lara Moray,” Lara quickly corrected him, though curious why he would believe she was his dead daughter.
Eric turned and looked at William. Lara did not mistake the look in his eyes. She could have sworn they turned as black as coal. Lara believed that his building anger was so great that his eyes could have turned burning red while smoke exhaled from his nostrils like a mighty dragon. But rather than a dragon, this was a beast of another kind. A tormented man.
“What sort of black magic is this?” Eric questioned as he stood towering over William.
William sat quiet and turned his head from Eric. Grabbing his collar, Eric lifted him from his chair and dragged him across the floor until he was pinned up against the wall. Lara gasped as her father was attacked.
“Who is she?” Eric asked, as he pressed his hand tighter around William’s throat. “Answer me!” Eric roared.
Gasping for air, William choked out, “Margaret’s daughter.”
Eric stood still for a moment, soaking in what William had just said.
“Liar! Margaret’s children were all stillborn. Only Maid Margaret survived past infancy.”
William coughed as he struggled to breath, “Nay. The lads were stillborn. The lass survived. Ye were so blind and foolish ye dinna deserve her. I loved Margaret. And if ye were nay in the way, she would have run off wit’ me to Scotland, no’ her sister Elsa. Once Margaret found out she was wit’ child, she refused to leave ye. It was because of her,” he choked out. “Lara was the reason why Margaret stayed wit’ ye. I could nay have Margaret, so I took from ye what ye held most dear. Yer child.”
“Why? Why would you raise her as your own?”
“Because I knew ye would need an heir. I never thought ye would find out about her.”
“My throne! You did all of this because you were after my throne,” Eric stated, acknowledging William’s true purpose for offering John as his vassal.
Eric then turned to Lara. Feeling overwhelmed with pity for her, he realized that she too had been lied to. He could not imagine what the lass was feeling or thinking. All he knew was that she was his daughter, and would make William pay for what he had done to them both.
Lara shook her head. “It can nay be true,” she whispered so quietly that only she could hear. Lara wanted to cover her ears; she could not stand to hear any more of it. Her own family had betrayed her. Her father, her mother. She only wondered if John also knew the truth, or if he too had been just a pawn in this game.
“William Fergusson,” Eric growled, “You have committed treason and kidnapping and are to be condemned to death. By sunset tomorrow you will be hanged by the neck until life has been taken from you. May God save your wicked soul, for ye are bound for hell!”
Lara stood stone silent for several moments as the guards carried her father out of the room. She felt as if her whole world had spun out of control. Everything had been a lie. What was she to do now? With teary eyes she glanced up to the king, her father. She could feel the weight of his stare. His eyes were the same silvery grey as hers, and he too had the raven-black hair that matched her own. It all made sense. She never questioned why she looked so different from her mother and father, both of whom had bright red hair. But it was all because her father - or the man she thought to be her father - had kidnapped her from her real parents. Had she known, had there been any clue, she would have… Lara’s mind went blank. ‘S’truth, she didn’t know what she would have done.