the haunted kingdom by Charles E.J. Moulton (snow like ashes txt) 📕

ship in between.” Tom added. “Your Majesties, everyone that had anything to do with the incident is gone.”
“Which means we have nothing but a ghost ship as proof of all this?”
Tom nodded. “Show him the note, Ulfaas.” Tom said.
Ulfaas took out the small note the man had put it his leather bag and handed it to Steven. The Prince General took it, looked at it and winced. “Sub Rosa?” He looked at Tom. “Wasn’t that a Roman Code for hiding a secret?”
Tom nodded. “I think that this man, whoever he was, was too scared to admit that the Nocturanian Royal Palace lies behind this, so he drew this and hoped that we would understand what he was saying by drawing a picture of a rose and writing an old Roman Code on Parchment.”
Steven bit his nails. He looked at the strange-looking gentleman claiming to be a Captain.
“And your name was?”
“John Lyghort, Sire. Captain John Lyghort in charge of the Olandian vessel The Hurtia on its way to Russia, Sire. My men are still there now waiting for me.”
Alexander asked him solemnly, “What have you to say about the situation?”
The man spoke in a backward sort of dialect. “The Londonium crashed in August, your majesty. I saw her. William Zebulon, the Captain this man claimed to be, died in that accident. I know the man myself and I have seen him dead. He was dead in August. No one can be deader than that. The ship was in shambles, shipwrecked, beaten to smithereens by a sudden fierce storm, your Majesties. We had to sign a warrant that we don’t speak about it. The Londonium apparently had secret cargo on board. Freight nobody was supposed to know about. I don’t know who that man was on the false Londonium, but that could not have been Zebulon.” There was a pause. “He was dead. The Celts were uproarious about it. They feared that it would be a scandal if it came out because of what was on board and no one knows what was on board. Zebulon was chosen as Captain of the vessel destined for Islandia, because he was a recluse and a fitting man for a dubious mission like this.”
“Why dubious?” Alexander inquired.
“Because it was top secret cargo and because it had to do with changing of information.”
“The man we met in Danehamn was not the same man that dragged us to Madame Zonga’s and threw into the arms of prostitutes. That man had a lust that was more ferocious than mine. The man on the deck of The Londonium was cold as an eel.” Tom mused. “Furthermore, he couldn’t have been Will Zebulon. He didn’t have the scar on his neck. The question is only who impersonated Will Zebulon and why?”
“I remember Zebulon” Steven said. “He got me ferociously drunk that night before…”
He looked at Belinda, who suddenly turned to ice, looking at him fiercely.
“Remember what happened back then?”
She flashed a very short smile. “How could I forget your prenuptial endeavours?”
Tom sighed. “Forgive and forget. I hope we’ve left it behind us.”
”You brought it up.” Belinda closed her eyes. “I know that it belongs to the story here, but private discussions belong in private, Tom.”
“Belinda.” Tom spat. “I was merely stressing Zebulon’s possible involvement.”
Belinda smiled cynically. “I shall stop remembering you as the worst best man.”
Memories of that night when Tom had found it necessary to drag his old friend out on a men’s night had backfired drastically. He never realized that Belinda had been falsely jealous of Steven having fallen open their bed with her sister, accidentally. That day, William Zebulon had dragged them to a brothel, stone drunk. Two men in her life, one a husband and the other a former hopeful, looked at her soul freeze. She smiled again.
“He has a point” Alexander pleaded, now no more a man begging a woman to calm down, King or father or no. “This man was chosen by some authority to play the part. The question we should ask is why did someone send this person to us?”
Steven grabbed his wife by the hips and pulled her closer. Her hands instinctively traveled up toward her mouth and the fingers received a tender bite from insecure ivories. She embraced him and decided not to think of the past. This was business. “No more talk of that night.” Steven said. “I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry that I had anything to do with that man.”
She nodded. “All is well. I forgave as soon as I spoke my vows.”
“Why push something like that on us?” Steven asked as he sat back in his chair.
Belinda looked up, her hand dropping from her mouth. She looked as if she had suddenly remembered something. She chuckled, surprised. Belinda walked to the window. Alexander looked up at his daughter. He knew that she was on to something, but what?
Suddenly, Belinda spoke. She was sure now. “Ulfaas!”
”Yes, Belinda!”
“Any signs of Nocturanian involvement that you can think of?” She winced and rocked her head back and forth to stress her words, her hands emphasizing the syllables. “Any hint that you can think of here? Any picture of Adnicul? Any loose word from a shipmate about Lucinda to prove your theory?”
The three men looked at each other. Tom shook his head. Ulfaas answered.
“No, just a hunch. The hunch we all have that this is her work.”
“Will didn’t recognize me.” Tom clarified. “That is the biggest hunch of all. Not even a hello. He even asked me who I was. That is what I am worried about, not…”
Belinda interrupted him. “Tom, I am not half way as insecure about Steven as you seem to think.” She have him an angry look. “I am on to something. It’s a memory,” she said, struggling. “If only..”
“If only… what?”
She laughed. “If only I could remember,” she went on. “I know that Zebulon was recognizable to anyone. His row of mistresses was longer than the representatives of the senate. I will never forget how drunk he made you, Steven. If Tom says this was not the man, it wasn’t.”
Steven looked up, startled. He looked at Belinda, who walked up to Steven and took his hand.
“Exactly, after that evening in 1422? What had he had? Three bottles of Rum? He must’ve remembered us all after that fight. I don’t think he was the kind of man who is shy of admitting this kind of thing.”
“He was stone-cold sober in September, Steve, and in spite of all he’d had to drink. This man was passionate, vulgar and hard as diamonds. The man on deck was a weakling. I had a hunch. When this gent here…” He pointed at John. “…told us the Londonium had crashed a month earlier I knew my hunch was right. This was another ship. Though the inspectors were positive of the opposite.”
John Lyghort interrupted the group. “You all speak of him as if he were still alive. William Zebulon went down with his ship a month ago. The ship you were about to clear from the harbour was a fake.” He chuckled and pointed a finger at Belinda. “You should listen to John.”
“Then we owe you the thanks for saving Margetania from another attack, Sire” Alexander said. “The Queen will be pleased!”
The man beamed and smiled with his entire being. “I just did my job!”
Belinda sighed. “I have a hunch this has something to do with Nocturania.” The five men nodded to each other. “I don’t know what, but something. I need proof.”
“We have no proof of any involvement, neither of Adnicul nor Lucinda.” Ulfaas said.
“You said that about the Londonium before John turned up.”
Belinda looked up at the men with a surprised glance. “Wait a minute! Why did I forget? Don’t leave! Promise me you will all wait. I have to find something old.” They nodded. “Thanks.”
She left the room. The men in the room shrugged and were somewhat flabbergasted by this behaviour. Somewhere in his heart, Steven knew that Belinda knew her business. All the while the men paced the room waiting for the impulsive girl to return. There was a silence in the room that spoke volumes and once in a while someone would mutter whatever she could be up to.
Then someone walked to the window and tried to pretend he was looking out. No one, really no one, could expect the princess to return with her old childhood diary. Ten minutes later she came back. She was holding a book in her hand. It was a book she had written as a child, mostly with poems. It was gilded and brown and very dusty. In it were drawings, poems, pictures, painful memories from the kidnapping experience.
“I remember being captive in the dungeon and having Lucinda drop wax on me to keep me awake. I wanted to sleep and was not allowed to. Once I did fall asleep, so exhausted by this torture, I had nightmares. Once again, Lucinda had made my long for my nightmarish sleep, hope for torture. The nightmares I had were worse than her torture, so I preferred the wax. She never expected me to escape, so she told me things that were secret. I wrote one of them down.” She handed Steven the open book and pointed to a page between two drawings. They were one of a devil and the other of a ship with big sails. “Read the text between the drawings.”

13th May 1411 – Dear Diary!
“Lucinda lets me keep this book. I don’t know why. Maybe she is a stupid lady…”

Steven laughed. “Is this necessary?”
“Read on.”
”Honey, I don’t think these men.”
”Just read on, Darling.” She patted him on his back. He shrugged.

“I hide my book under the bed where I sleep here in this awful smelly prison and have only been on the rack for four hours today. I cry because I miss father.
I cry because the pain is way too deep to describe.
Today, Lucinda told me about the four Apocalyptic Riders. She said there is a Nocturanian version of the tale, one where one of them is seafaring. It will strike one day and then it will be one of great luck for the land, because Nocturania’s less known harbour city, Fraytollah, entails a secret docking space where famous ships from other countries are copied and sent out under false captains.
She tells me that often normal men are recruited and their faces changed by sorcery to resemble deceased captains whose ships are long gone. In the docking bay these ships are then recreated and brought out to pass customs in the Danish Channel. The weapons are often hid in the hull of the ship, which many inspectors miss to control. I hope I remember this secret one-day. Maybe I can use it against her.”

Belinda closed the book. She shook her head in disbelief at her own lack of piecing together the clues. “I can’t believe that I haven’t understood it until now. The portion of that book has been left unanalyzed for thirteen years. I guess I was too young to contemplate the importance of it then.”
Belinda’s father took a very long and stern look at his daughter. “Why would Lucinda tell an eleven year old girl something as vital as that?” He waited for a reply. “Why would she reveal secrets like these if she didn’t have a plan? This woman had to have a plan.”
“The exact same reason why she told me about Nina Ray.” Belinda answered. “She knew.”
Steven paced the room and then turned to the assembly. “It seems to