Camden's eyes flashed with anger. He pushed his chair back and drew himself to his full height, slamming his fist onto the tabletop. Earthenware mugs and platters bounced so high into the air that they shattered when they came down, spilling mead and greasy meat.
"I did not trade you for my throne!" he thundered.
Celia's face went as pale as bone, but the young queen seemed afraid to rise without permission. Brianna wondered if the king had become that much of a tyrant. By the deathly silence in the room, she suspected he had. Even the earls sat petrified in their chairs, their eyes fixed on Camden's shuddering figure as though he were about to explode.
"You dare deny it?" Brianna inquired. Despite her growing anger, she deliberately kept her voice as calm as possible. The contrast between her composure and the king's demented fury would only serve to convince the earls she was telling the truth. "Then why were the horses of all your companies still in their stables? What forces have you sent to rescue me from the ogres?"
This drew a quiet drone of whispering from the earls, and Brianna knew they had probably been wondering the same thing.
"I don't deny that I have made great personal sacrifices for the benefit of Hartsvale." The king's voice was suddenly as calm as Brianna's, his face so serene and collected that it was difficult to believe he had been a blustering drunkard only a moment before. He braced himself on the table and leaned forward, speaking to his earls now instead of Brianna. "Goboka has been a good friend. Not only did he help us resolve our difficulties during the War of Harts, he has kept ogres from marauding in our valley for these nineteen years."
"And the price for his help was your daughter?" asked Earl Wendel, incredulous.
The king narrowed his eyes at the earl and gave him a menacing glare. Then he answered, "Yes."
The king's mouth hung open for a moment, as though he intended to add more to his explanation, then he shifted his gaze to Brianna's face. The tears that had welled in his eyes earlier began to spill down his cheeks openly, and he made no attempt to conceal them.
"Please understand, Brianna," he begged. "I acted for the good of Hartsvale."
The princess studied the king without responding. Although his tears appeared genuine enough, the eyes from which they came were cold and hard and, most surprisingly, angry. If not for the ire in her father's eyes, Brianna might have believed that he had acted only out of a stolid sense of duty. But the king's anger bespoke something far more sinister: a spiritual barrenness that would always prevent him from ruling with the true welfare of his subjects at heart.
"You're lying, and the sad thing is that you're the only one who doesn't know it," she said. "You don't have any idea what it means to act for the good of the kingdom. You can think only of what makes your throne more secure-and the reason you're angry with me now is my return threatens your power."
Camden's tears suddenly dried up. "I'm still your king."
"And that's all that matters to you," Brianna retorted. "That's why you promised your unborn daughter to Goboka-not to end the war, but to protect your crown from Dunstan."
"You mustn't say such things." Camden's voice was as cool as ice, and as threatening as an avalanche. "Your mother did, and look what…"
The king let the sentence trail off, his eyes racing over the faces of those nearest him.
"Look what happened to her?" Brianna demanded. She was beginning to understand that the man in front of her had never truly been the father she loved, or the king she had admired. He was an imposter, a thief who had stolen his throne, and perhaps a ruthless murderer who had killed to defend it. "Did you throw her into the Clearwhirl? Is that what you'll do with me?"
By the crimson color of the king's face and the throbbing veins in his temples, Brianna knew she had guessed correctly. "You killed her!"
"She was weak!" Camden retorted. "She wouldn't make the sacrifices demanded of a queen!"
"A queen is not required to give her child to ogres." Brianna countered. "Not unless she has a monster for a husband."
Though the massive banquet table weighed as much as one of Castle Hartwick's gates, Camden grabbed it and heaved it aside. Regardless of what manner of king he had become, he remained a Hartwick and was blessed with the giantlike strength of their line. The table flipped on its side, knocking several earls and Celia of Dunsany to the floor. The queen cried out in pain, but the king appeared not to notice and started across the room.
A general clamor filled the chamber as the earls leaped to their feet. They seemed entirely unsure as to what they should do, but were apparently convinced that some action would be required. A few moved forward to grab the king, others rushed to lift the table off Celia, and the remainder simply reached for their belt weapons.
"Stand your ground!" warned Gavorial.
"I'll mash any man who harms the king!" added Hrodmar. The frost giant's voice shook the entire room.
The warnings were enough to freeze the earls in their places. The king threw a chair aside, then, as High Priest Simon kneeled over Celia at the other end of the room, Camden stopped in front of Brianna.
"Apologize!"
"No."
Camden raised his hand. Brianna lifted her chin and glared into her father's eyes, hoping Tavis would be wise enough not to make his presence known at this moment.
"Beat your daughter if you must," the princess said. "I'm sure it will be a good lesson for the earls."
The king checked his hand in midswing, then slowly-looked around the room at his earls. They were all watching with uneasy expressions, as though considering what the king might do to them if he was willing to beat a princess in public. Camden slowly lowered his hand, then backed away from his daughter.
"You're right. It was a tragic mistake to ask Goboka's help," the king admitted. He was staring at the floor with the vacant gaze of a lost man. "Your mother was the lucky one. She didn't have to watch you grow up, knowing that she would have to give you up when you reached the bloom of womanhood."
The king raised his eyes to Brianna's face, and this time there was no anger in his gaze, only bitterness and self-pity. "Do you know what that was like, Brianna? To watch your child mature, knowing for nineteen years that you would betray her?"
"I can only imagine." Brianna replied coldly. "It must have been like growing up without your mother, believing she had chosen to die rather than raise you."
"But she did choose to die!" the king insisted. "When she refused to understand that I couldn't undo my mistake, I had no choice but to kill her. I had to protect the kingdom."
"You had to protect the king." Brianna corrected.
"They're the same. You'd understand that if you were in my position," Camden said. Then, as if Brianna had agreed with him, he continued, "You don't know what I've endured all these years. The agony has been eating me from the inside out."
"I'm sure."
The king stepped over to Brianna and took her hand. A cold sweat had slickened his palms. "I'm glad you know the truth at last," he said. "It will make it easier to understand why I must send you back."
Brianna looked around the chamber. Gavorial and Hrodmar had slipped forward to be near the king, and were thus blocking her view of Celia and the earls attending her at the head of the table. But the men she could see were staring at her father with slack-jawed expressions of disbelief. Already, she guessed that half of them believed him an unfit king. The time had come to take the offensive and convince the other half.
Without removing her hand from her father's grasp, the princess asked, "Are you worried that there will be a war with Goboka and his ogres if I don't return to them?"