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Friday – March 21st 1427

Coffins, already available had been engraved with the royal names and were placed in the chapel in an official ceremony that had the family crying and screaming. Belinda had no will to live and she told Steven that. Life was just too difficult. She wished that death would come as a release.
The four coffins, Patrick, Patricia, Morgana and Richard were positioned beside Tom on the far side of the inner memorial chapel.
That day, Alexander Winsletenna decided to avenge himself on his city.
That day, silently and secretly, he decided to ask Zeddy if the old blocks from the Wiltas that had been taken up to the army camp were still in the vaults.


Monday March 22nd – 1427

“I beg your pardon, Alexander, but you cannot seriously mean that you are willing to take innocent lives for the lives of your children.”
Alex held up his hand, giving Zedrick a look that must’ve woken up the dead.
He now regretted having brought Belinda and the family up to tell them of his plans.
“Please, I know that you all disagree with me. But my children were killed by my own countrymen. They were openly murdered and the Senate did not do a thing. They stood and watched. Philip even had to run in to wake some of them up.”
Belinda spoke and it was the fact that although it was very light in this throne room and there was a darkness here that was unbearable inside their hearts that made her say this.
“You can not fight with the same methods that Adnicul fights with, Father. Then you are no better than him. We have all lost our siblings because of this scandal, so we are in agreement with you that we are angry. But Maria and Ellie and certainly their men, too, would agree with me in saying that we cannot go and kill innocent people for the sake of the guilty, don’t you agree?”
Maria and Ellie nodded and Marcus and Martin seemed to be looking at each other, hoping that Alex would change his mind. Martin finally spoke. “We were called here in an awful hurry. It was luck that we all were in town anyway. This came as a surprise to all of us. We are just as deeply hurt as you. But you cannot spill innocent blood.”
Alex stood up.
“Who is innocent here? There were hundreds of people beating
my children to death.”
Belinda stood up, as well. “Father, when they were alive, you
wanted to disown them. Now it is a bit late for punishment.”
”I lost my children.”
”You still have us.”
Sieglinde agreed.
“They are right, Alex. Don’t spill innocent blood.”
She tried to calm him down by walking up to him and caressing his arm.
“I am the king. My city shall not go unpunished for destroying my family.”
Alex walked out, leaving the assembled behind.
That next week he went on with his plans against his family’s wishes.

Saturday – March 29th 1427

The army left to guard the city was sent into town with one hundred blocks of death to enchain any hundred people they could find as revenge for his children’s death. The entire family had found that Alex changed that day. Belinda urged her father not to do this, but he urged her to keep quiet. He would not admit that he was sorry never to have said good bye to Patrick and Morgana. Sieglinde slept in same room as her husband, but they didn’t speak to each other any more.

Saturday, April 5th, 1427 A.D.

The one hundred corpses were left in their blocks until a week after imprisonment as warning. Most of them had died within three days. There were tales of screams and wails that went on through the night. By Thursday night no scream were heard. Alexander was called The New Adnicul.

Sunday – April 11th 1427

That Sunday, Alex spent in the chapel praying. He was worried that no one came in and asked how he was. It seemed even Belinda was shocked at her father’s behavior. They had not really spoke since that day in the throne room almost two weeks ago. He missed her.
He had spilled innocent blood, certainly. But what was he to do? Not care that his children had died? That would not have been right. He looked up at the statue of St. Michael. It was holding a sword in the right hand and a rose in the left.
”Where are you when we need you, Michael?”
The door to the chapel opened. He looked behind him. It was Belinda.
With soft steps she walked up and kneeled at the front bench beside her father.
Alex looked to his side and then back at Michael.
The two did not know what to say to each other.
“I swore to hate you forever. But I was just as angry as you.”
Alexander looked up at the picture of Jesus above the altar. He was stretching out his hands and his face was shining.
“I can understand what is happening to us, Belinda.”
Belinda leaned over and put her head at her father’s shoulder.
“I need you.”
Belinda embraced him.
“I need you, too. I know that we need each other.”
Alex sighed. Memories came flooding back. Memories of how it had been. Picnics on hills, feasts in the Grand Hall, wedding in the city. He looked up at Michael.
“Help us, Michael. Please help us.”
Alexander had fought fire with fire.
He was hated by his country. There was no help to be found, not yet.

Thursday, May 1st, 1427 A.D.

Erica had drifted off the last six weeks or so since the incident. She spent all her time in bed. She had not drunken any liquids, not even water and not eaten any foods.
She had not had any will to do anything but sleep, so it was obvious that her life was over.
Ellie and Maria spent most of their time at home trying to cheer her up, but there was nothing that possibly could. She could just remember those faces in the river.
“There is a curse about, it’s roaming the countryside, there is a storm a-coming.”
The family sat around the large wooden table in the Grand Hall eating, when Erica came in that day. Bantrard stopped playing and let his lute sink to the floor. The family looked up. Erica, dressed only in a nightgown, stood in the doorway and watched them as they ate.
Then she slowly walked up to Alexander, who had seemed to have lost all his sense of direction. On bare feet she walked up to the king, her former beautiful doll like Hispanic face now haggard. She leaned across the mid table where he was sitting and looked into his eyes. There were rings under her eyes.
”You will die along with this country. You have signed your own death warrant, Alexander. This country will die.”
Maria stood up and walked to Erica.
“Dearest, go put some clothes on. We will go for a walk.”
Erica shoved Maria away and spat on the floor.
“I’ve lost my husband and now my son is lost.”
Sieglinde stood up, putting her cup down. “What? Lance is gone?”
Maria shook her head. “I sent Fabian and him out with Henry for a walk. They are fine.”
“That was this morning. They are not back yet.” Erica took a step closer toward Maria and spit on her. Maria winced and Erica could see the hand of her counterpart trembling. “They are going to die and it is your fault, you cow.” In a reflex, Maria raised her hand and slapped Erica.
“What is with you? What have I done? We have all lost someone dear to us.”
Geena and Rolf came in.
“Is she up again?”
Erica turned around and at once she was a new person.
She crouched over and ran to Rolf, almost on all fours.
“Oh, please, Rolf. Rolf, please. Find my son.”
Rolf grabbed her by the shoulders.
”I did as you told me, Erica. I searched the castle. They are not here.”
Sieglinde sat down and looked at Alex. “You knew about this.”
“I was sworn to secrecy.”
”They are your grandchildren. They are lost somewhere on the grounds. They have never done this before.”
”I didn’t want to worry you all. Rolf was going to look.”
Sieglinde stood up again, taking her wine with her.
“So, you searched the palace?”
Rolf nodded. “I searched the two bottom floors. Geena searched the third and Theo searched the fourth.”
”Has someone searched the attic?”
”No.”
Sieglinde turned around and confronted the family. “Who wants to find our grandchildren?”
Everyone but Bantrard stood up and walked out.
A search party was formed that again checked until the evening if the two boys could be found. They were no where. Torches were lit and almost everyone, including Bantrard, went out to look. Traditionally, Bantrard’s orchestra all lived in town. But even they were called in to look for the children. Roberta, the soprano that Patrick had been sleeping with, had disappeared all together after the incident around the ides of March. She was no where to be found. Belinda stayed home and read Alfie stories. It was obvious that the child was very distraught. His playmates were gone.
“Where are my friends?”
”I don’t know, Alfie. I don’t know.”
It was midnight when all of them, including the king, returned to the palace. The boys were nowhere to be found.
That night was a sleepless night for everyone.

Sunday May 11th 1427

Erica had all sense of direction.
She claimed to see visions of hell.
She talked of a pit, where the bottomless dungeons swallowed you forever.
That morning, she had been walking the pastures and somehow ended up by the waterfall.
No one really knew how, but that day she fell into the pond and was found toward evening floating upside down in the water. She was buried the following week. The memorial chapel was a crowded place for the dead.

Friday August 29th 1427

Sieglinde had been in the church for an hour now. Light was streaming in through the open rose windows and there was a freshness to the air in here. She had asked Bernardus Paul, who had been in the palace anyway to take care of some paper-work and was holding a seminar for young priests at Iuventus, to light candles all over and spread incense. The music from Bantrard’s harmonium filled the entire place with sound.
She was just very bitter about the fact that this summer people had begun to reject her and ignore the fact that she was still the queen of the country.
It was Sunday and mass had been celebrated at nine as usual this time of year. They had dined in utter silence, but Maria broke into tears and was taken to bed and given some wine to soothe herself with. She had taken a walk with Belinda and Alfred yesterday. And he had giggled as they all tickled him in the grass. He was being taught to read and write and paint now along with riding and his curiosity only grew as he grew older. He had just turned four last Sunday and had enjoyed being celebrated, but nothing was as before. Iuventus was the first post of the haunted kingdom.
Alex had not made it home in time for his birthday.
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