Godfrey finally released the boy, who ran to his mother’s side, hugging her tight around the waist.
“Blaine!” she said to the boy, worried, hugging him. “Are you okay?”
“Who are you?” the father demanded, angry, taking a step towards them. “What right do you have to charge into our home? And what have you done to our boy?”
“I did nothing to your boy,” Godfrey answered. “I only brought him back home, because I want answers.”
“Answers?” the father demanded, angrier, confused, walking towards him threateningly. He was an older man, with a large nose, covered in warts, and strong face-and he did not look pleased.
“Your other son poisoned me last night,” Godfrey stated.
The father stopped in his tracks, as the mother burst out weeping.
“You speak of Clayforth,” the father said. He looked down sadly, and slowly shook his head.
“They chased me home all the way from the grave mama,” the boy said.
“I believe that Blaine knows something about my attempted murder,” Godfrey said to the mother.
She looked at him with alarm, protective of her son.
“And what makes you say that? You know nothing of our son.”
“He ran from us at the grave. He is hiding something. I want to know what it is. I don’t want to hurt your boy. I just want to know why his brother poisoned me, and who was behind it.”
“My boy knows nothing of such devious plots,” his father snapped. “Clayforth was trouble, I admit. But not Blaine. He would never sink to business like that.”
“But his brother would?” Godfrey asked.
The father shrugged.
“He’s dead now. He has paid for his sins. It is what it is.”
“It is NOT what it is,” Godfrey corrected, his own voice rising. “I was almost killed last night. Do you understand? I am the son of a King. Do you know the sentence for attempted murder on royalty? Clayforth is dead, but that does not make amends. Blaine knows something. That makes him an accessory to the crime. By King’s Law, he can be punished. Now you will tell me what you know, or I will bring the Royal Guard here!”
Godfrey stood there, red-faced, breathing hard, more worked up than he had been in a long time. He had had enough, and he wanted answers.
The father looked alarmed for the first time, and he turned and looked at his son, now unsure. Blaine clung to his mother’s waist.
“Blaine,” his father said to him, “is there something you know that you are not telling us?”
Blaine looked from his father to his mother, shaking his head nervously.
Godfrey sighed, thinking what to do. He finally reached into his pocket, pulled out a sack of gold, and threw it on the floor before them. Tons of gold coins spilled out over the floor of the small house, and the mother and father both gasped at the sight.
“King’s Gold,” Godfrey said. “The finest. Go ahead, count it. It’s enough for you to live the rest of your lives and never have to work again. I don’t want anything in return. It is yours to keep. All I want is the truth. All I want is for your son to tell me what he saw. I know that he knows something. I just want to know what it is. I will protect him. I promise.”
The mother stroked her boy’s hair, squatted down, and kissed him on the forehead.
“Blaine, if you didn’t see anything, don’t be afraid. We don’t need this gold.”
But the father marched over sternly and grabbed Blaine by the chin.
“Blaine, these men believe you know something. That money can change our family’s life forever. If you have something to say, say it. Remember, I have taught you to always speak the truth. Do not be like your bother. Go on now. Be a man. You’ve nothing to fear.”
Blaine swallowed nervously, then finally looked up at Godfrey.
“I was with Clayforth the other night,” Blaine said. “A man we had never seen before came up to him. He knew that Clayforth was a runner, for the den, and he asked him if he would put poison in a man’s drink. At first my brother said no. But then he showed him gold-more gold than even you have here. He still said no. But he kept showing him more and more gold. And then he gave in.”
Blaine took a deep breath.
“You must understand,” he added, “my brother had never done anything like that before. But the money-it was too much for him to turn down. He said it would change our lives forever and that we’d never have to come back to this part of town. He wanted to buy mamma and papa a new house somewhere clean and safe.”
“Did you see this man’s face?” Godfrey asked.
The boy nodded, slowly.
“He was a tall man. Taller than any man I’d ever seen. And he was missing a tooth.”
“On the right side?” Godfrey asked.
The boy nodded, his eyes opened wide. “How did you know?”
Godfrey knew, all too well. It was Afget, Gareth’s new attack dog. There was no one else who fit that description. And now he had a witness. He had a witness that proved that Gareth’s man attempted assassination on him, the King’s son. It was grounds to have him deposed. It was the proof they needed.
“I need your son to be a witness,” Godfrey said to his father. “What he witnessed is of importance not just to me, but to the kingdom itself, to all of King’s court. To the entire Ring. I need him to testify. It will make amends for his brother trying to take my life. None of you will be in danger. You will all be protected, I guarantee it. You can keep all this gold and more.”
A thick silence hung over the room, as they all turned to the boy.
“Blaine, it is your choice,” the father said.
Blaine looked Godfrey up and down, then looked at his parents.
“Do you promise my parents will be safe?” Blaine asked Godfrey. “And that they can keep all the gold?”
Godfrey smiled.
“All of this and more,” he reassured. “And yes, you have my word. You will all be safer than you’ve ever been.”
Finally, Blaine shrugged.
“Then I don’t see why not. After all, like you said, papa, it never hurts to tell the truth.”
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Thor galloped back across the desert, getting farther which each step from his hometown, from memories of his encounter with his father-or, rather, the man who had raised him. It had been a life-changing trip, both dreadful and inspiring. The encounter had been painful, yet it had also finally given him the clarity he had always sought. His entire life he had suspected that he was different from his father, from his brothers, from his village; that he didn’t belong there; that some great secret about his past was being hidden from him; that he was destined for something, some place, greater.
Now, finally, after hearing everything his father had to say-that he was not really his father, that those were not really his brothers-that his mother was alive-that he was truly different-it all made perfect sense. Despite the troubling confrontation, he finally felt a sense of ease, deeper than he’d ever felt in his life. He was finally beginning to peel back the layers of the mystery of his true identity, to understand more of who he was.
Thor kept turning over in his mind all the things his father said. He was overjoyed to know that his mother was alive, that she cared for him; he could feel her necklace against his bare throat even as he rode, and the feeling comforted him, made him feel as if his mother were right there with him. He could feel an intense energy radiating off of it, and it filled his whole being. She really cared for him. He could sense that. And she wanted to see him. That meant more to him than anything. He was more determined than ever to find her.
But then he couldn’t help wonder: if she cared so much for him, why had she given him away to begin with? And why to that man who raised him, and why in that village?