Their patience wore thin, and though they want to wait and not interrupt the lunch between the Keeper King and the knight of Cypress they cannot afford to any longer. The guards dare not stop them as they push open the heavy oak doors and quietly step into the private dinning chambers of the good knight unannounced. “Excuse us, Your Grace, Good Sir Knight. But we must simply speak to the both of you.”

“You could not have waited?” The Keeper sighs.

“Tis alright, Your Grace. If they need to speak with you I shall leave and give you room to speak freely.” Alexander stands slowly, half expecting the men to identify him from the night before.

“No, No, sit down Alexander. Whatever they must say they will say with you here.” The knight nods and sits back down, the Brothers exchange glances.

“Actually, Your Grace and Good Sir Knight, we must speak with both of you for this is a matter of state and spirit.”

“Then speak,” The Keeper snaps.

“Yesterday we were taken by that horrid rogue, Throne, and feasted with him at the price of our new abbey.”

“Get on with it.” The Keeper sighs, annoyed that his pleasant and silent lunch has been interrupted and is now being delayed.

“Forgive him,” Aimes cuts in “The long and the short of this is the Foretold has come. She is with Throne now, unaware that she is in the wolf’s layer and most certainly being lied to. Your Grace, Good Sir Knight, I fear for her safety with that man.” Alex wants to laugh and ask them about when they slipped off from the feast to watch her bath but refrains as that would only get him locked away in the dungeon.

“What?” the Keeper rises up swiftly “And you did not bring her with you!”

“Ah, n-no Your Grace.” Aimes stutters.

“She was quite taken with the rogue, Your Grace” Harper quickly adds “I doubt we would have been able to convince her to return to safety with us.” Aimes nods in agreement and the Keeper sighs.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Then get out, you have failed me again, gentlemen, and I do not wish deal with you at this moment.” The two men leaves quickly, slamming the door shut behind them making both the Keeper and Alex flinch.

“What are you going to do about this news, Your Grace?” Alex asks returning to lunch, sighing as he lifts his fork to his mouth with the same white fish on it that he has been eating for years now.

“We will bring her here, show her the truth about that horrid man and then bring peace.” Alex nods quietly. “Tell me Alexander, what do you think of there claim?”

“If it is true, Your Grace, I am afraid that my holy vows would turn me to the Foretold’s servant, forgoing my vows to you, this city, even this great nation.” the Keeper frowns.

“That is almost enough for me to hope they are incorrect.” Alex smiles politely and they lapse into silence for a time. Suddenly the Keeper rises from his chair, “Do excuse me Alexander, I must meet with my commanders to organize a rescue of the Foretold and an end to Throne.”

“Ah, would you like me to join you? Surely a representative of-”

“Nonsense, nonsense. You’ve only just gotten here, rest Good Sir Knight, I shall have many men to represent your brethren.” Alex’s words die in his throat as the Keeper marches out, leaving no room and no time to argue with him. With an annoyed sigh Alex watches the door shut before directing his glare back to the food on his plate; the bland and generally tasteless mashed grains with the blandest, whitest fish that can be hauled out of the sea seemingly mocks him as he knows that within the city, it will be all he can eat as the pious city champion.

Lost [chapter 9]