“Oh? Who?”
Ben told him Ashmore’s name. “He’s been accused of piracy.”
“Ah,yes.” King George remembered. “He’s due to hang today. In fact–”
“Your Majesty!” Ben nearly swallowed his heart. No! Please, do not let him be too late. “Please, order the hanging to stop! Please, Sire! Is it too late?” He spun around and looked at the servant as if he might know when the king didn’t.
King George hurried to the door, opened it and shouted that all sentencing was to be stopped. He didn’t leave it at that, but stormed down the stairs and rushed out the doors and then hurried to the outer bailey.
Ben made it ahead of him, knowing where the executions took place and racing there. When he reached the courtyard, he stopped when he saw the three men standing on the planked platform with ropes around their necks. One of them had to be Thoren Ashmore.
“Wait!”Ben shouted, running fast enough to reach the platform. “King George is coming as we speak!” he panted. “Wait for him before these sentences are carried out!”
He realized soon enough who the man he was sent there to save was. Thoren Ashmore, the man on the far right, had chestnut hair with streaks of gray and tints of deep crimson falling to his shoulders. His eyes, when his gaze locked on toBen’s were the color of the sea…the color of Fable’s eyes. His lips slanted just a bit, but enough for Ben to see a spark of hope in his eyes.
Did he know Ben was here for him? The buzz in the courtyard died down when the king arrived, running on his own two feet. People who were there to see the executions, witnessed instead, the king rushing to save the criminals. Mouths hung open, but not a word was spoken while the king ordered the criminals to be taken back to their cells until tomorrow.
“Now that we have postponed the executions,” the king said to Ben in a soft voice threaded with warning. “Have a word with me in private.”
Ben bowed and followed the king back to his private study and took one of the two seats by the window.
After a servant appeared and poured their drinks, The monarch set his gaze on Ben. “Tell me now, who exactly did I hurry to save and why did I save him?”
“My king, I would ask that you trust me,” Ben said.
“I thought I just proved that I trusted you,” England’s first German king said. “You are the one person Icantrust. If you were anyone else, those three would be dead.”
Ben had forgotten how much he liked and admired King George. He had shared drinks with his men on the battlefield and fought alongside them. The king had had many obstacles and even more to prove, when he had taken the throne of a foreign country. Ben, a seasoned soldier at the time, had helped him prove his worth.
“He is Lord Thoren Ashmore, Earl of Dorset–”
George narrowed his flinty gaze on Ben. “I happen to know the earl. His name is not Thoren Ashmore.”
Ben closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again. “It was in 1682.”
The king sipped his drink, let it go down, then tightened his jaw beneath his graying beard at the burn of the whisky. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying he’s not a pirate. He’s a father trying to find his daughters.”
The king stared at him as the moments passed. Then, “You know this for certain?”
“I do.”
With a great sigh, the king relaxed in his chair, stretching his legs out before him. “Very well, take him with you when you leave tomorrow.”
Ben breathed. Thoren Ashmore was safe. Now to his next dilemma. His parents were a few rooms away. How would Ben explain to the king that he’d found them after so long? There would just be too many questions and there wasn’t enough time. “I will be leaving immediately, Sire. My beloved is unwell and I must return to her.”
George’s expression fell, but he nodded. “Very well, my servant Nathan will bring Ashmore to you but you must promise to bring this beloved of yours to court so I can meet her.”
Ben promised happily and then left with Nathan. He descended the stairs to the lowest floor, where cells carved out of the stone walls were home to a dozen men.
Nathan said a few words to the jailer, who eyed Ben suspiciously, but then walked away, shuffling keys on a metal loop.
The servantwaited with Ben and listened to a cell door being opened and a second pair of footsteps joining the first.
Ben watched the jailer pull Fable’s father down the long hall. When they moved under the light of a wall torch, Ben was once again struck by the brightness of hope in Ashmore’s eyes, shaping his smile. Ben was immediately reminded of Fable and breathed out a longing sigh.
He stepped forward when the jailer handed Ashmore over and wasted no time in heading for the stairs.
