Chapter 92: Dorothea Dallas
On that cold winter night all the most important members of the island's aristocracy, including southern and northern Ireland, Man and Wales had come to Edinburgh.
On that occasion, the Baron had been able to meet the youngest member of the Dallas family, namely the young Duchess Dorothea, Abigail's younger sister.
It seemed, for her young age of fourteen that she was already quite grown up in the way of thinking of her age, she was no longer a child and the thing, which little to say Juniper liked most was that that girl looked incredibly like her older sister.
She had the same hair, very long, soft and red of the color of burning fire, with the only difference that Dorothea had more curls at the end, two eyes, large and dark and a pale face with light freckles on it.
Then the three Stanley brothers had obviously arrived there, he was waiting for the arrival of those too, even though he knew he was running with the danger of being soon discovered, as everyone knew the fickleness in House Stanley's contract.
The Stanleys were each different from the other, each with a different color of hair, different eyes and features, which did not seem to have anything in common.
Walter, the eldest, possessed Italian characteristics, such as dark brown hair and almost olive green eyes, as well as a pale face.
Marcus possessed Asian characteristics, which consisted of hair as black as coal and very smooth, as much as his eyes, which, as a descendant of an English and South Asian cross, possessed the delicate and particular "almond" shape.
Samuel, the youngest, possessed the pale and stereotypical Scandinavian characteristics, such as straw-blond hair gathered in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck and pale blue eyes of the color of ice.
It was in fact no surprise that the Stanley house was called, as a derogatory, "the house of bastards", because while not seeming a somewhat kind and notable nickname each of the Stanley brothers was an illegitimate child, born of different mothers, outside the marriage.
The fact was that, even if the pettiness and prevalence in the change of allies of that family had been known for generations, Juniper needed every possible reinforcement.
It was in fact known that after the death of Lord James Stanley, father of the three and of Gilbert and Brooklyn Stanley, none of his sons had managed to rearrange the finances of the house, so they soon fell into disrepair, reason that could convince the three to join the alliance, to be able to pay off their father's debts.
A representative from House Pembroke had arrived from Wales.
In addition to his two cousins, Henry and John, who with great availability and for their own interests had not hesitated to take part in the meeting that that night undertook to unite in a firm pact all the noble families who were preparing to take part in that alliance.
What would happen after the war, no one knew yet ...
They could win everything or losing everything and not even well defined was who afterwards would have taken control.
Everyone sat around the long table of precious lacquered wood, on comfortable padded chairs.
What Juniper did not like, however, was that each family, each representative, in their own pride was very distant and detached from each of the others.
Of course everyone wanted recognition and everyone was trying to be the favorites for the future government which with high probability would follow.
More than anything else, he soon realised that all the guests, all the buzz and chatter that had formed in a short time, one of the most important and significant member was missing.
Where could Lady Annalise Dustin have ended up? She was the one who had first given the baron the idea of a council.
So, although it was not an elegant thing to do in front of lords and ladies, apologising in advance, Juniper temporarily left the table, in the search, fast and almost desperate for the woman, who already appeared too late for the meeting that she herself had called.
Juniper spied in every corridor, every room, inhabited or not in his own fortress, asking the attendants about her, who in turn, worried, had responded in a convincing and almost regretful way that they had not seen the woman since that morning.
He turned every narrow passage, corridor, which flooded by the cold and darkness of the night, was slightly and dimly lit and warmed by the faint and reddish light of the candles.
And it was precisely a candle, which, broken and devoid of light, fell on the marble floor that made the Baron discover where Annalise Dustin was.
It was also easy for him, as the door to the room, relatively ajar, showed the desperate image of the woman, who, sitting on a chair and with her head resting on her arm was crying all her tears.
She had ash-red hair resting on her delicate face, so Juniper wasn't even able to understand her expression.
From the past experience with depression and sadness, however, Juniper was able to interpret tears and sobs, understand their sound, tonality and meaning, and it had given him an understanding of superhuman sadness.
It was then when he noticed in the narrow hands of the woman a wrinkled letter from which the ink letters were erased by tears, that Juniper understood that something dramatic must have happened.
-William...Dickon...- he could hear Annalise whispering from her lips, wet with transparent tears -my children...they...they are dead...-.
Juniper was not sure if Lady Annalise was actually talking to him or if she alone was mulling over her pain, the fact was that that news immediately led the Baron to immerse both hands in his blond curls.
Juniper had lost the richest and most important support in their campaign and knew that most likely that alliance was now out of the question.
-I'm really sorry...- a stammer came from the Baron's pale lips -I...I simply don't know what to say...-.
The woman raised her face, her beautiful sweaty hair was partially stuck and wet to her forehead, she looked at the man with tears in her eyes, sad but almost amazed at his presence.
As Annalise saw the man the fury began to burn in her eyes, that man, he had hesitated so much in calling every single nobleman to congress, he had waited so long, that if not for him, his beloved children would still be alive.
She wiped the tears from her eyes, gathered her strength and got on her feet, making the flame of the candle, half melted on the table, wave for a moment.
-I am out of here! Out of the alliance or any other agreement...nothing makes sense now... nothing more now that my children are dead...-.
Juniper tried to grab the woman's wrist, squeeze it lightly, try to change her mind, to make her stay, now that everything was planned.
-What are you going to do?- asked him trying to draw the attention of the grieving woman to himself -you can't go away, not now that everyone has arrived here, everyone is waiting for you...-.
-I will go back to Ireland, no one can stop me from returning home, not now, and not seeing that the Dustin house is probably much richer than all of you put together ...-
-Are you going to fight this battle alone?!- Juniper asked observing in the darkness of the corridor the figure of the woman becoming smaller and smaller.
Annalise stopped, turned, where the candlelight still faintly illuminated her face and gave a sheen to her hair, red and dark like savoury wine and to her dress, elegant and green like emerald.
It lit up her eyes, the color of fresh dew-dipped grass, and her cheeks, pale, like a white sheet not stained by ink.
-The motto of Southern Ireland is "Ireland forever" let it be like this once again, let it be like this again, when we carry on the spikes, on the flag of the golden harp, the head of the princess...-.
Juniper was struck by that statement, pale, as on the lady's delicate face he noticed a candid and pained smile full of anger.
He knew well that House Dustin, without any help, would never be able to beat the strong and large British army.
-I will not let that happen...- the man whispered with anger -I will not let someone steal from me the chance to execute my cousin, never in my life...never...-.
As it should be, the Baron made his way to the congress that was almost impatiently awaiting him.
He had to come up with a compelling excuse to get his guests to excuse him for his extreme delay, while still explaining the situation in full.
-Due to a loss House Dustin will temporarily not be able to take part in the congress...- and Juniper added the "temporarily" almost as a hidden irony, he knew well that only one house, even with millions of soldiers at its disposal, would never manage to defeat the great and numerous British army alone.
He knew Ireland would lose in number and strength, but on the other hand, he could use the unexpected attack as a diversion to the final blow, which they would give Britain once they got there.
The news of the mysterious Irish disappearance from the alliance made the lords and ladies of greater lands and of more importance worry more than Wales or the Isle of Man.
On the other hand, neither of them had really wished that Southern Ireland, which was the richest and most powerful of all, would join them, as it could be a further damage to their finances.
In any case, Juniper prepared to arrange in front of them, on the table, several sheets, written with ink directly by him.
There were written all the numbers and finances that Scotland could give in that battle.
Now he was just waiting to understand, with a broader view of the future, what the other houses were willing to contribute.
-Man can commit itself to offering 20,000 soldiers to battle...- the eldest of the Stanley brothers began to speak -it is not much, but for the moment it is all we can afford-.
Juniper knew it was not much, as the British army boasted more than 690,000 troops, neatly divided into battalions.
But for the Isle of Man, a place that had only 83,000 inhabitants in total, and given the crisis they were facing, that donation of soldiers and armed forces suited him just fine.
-In addition we expect, after this battle, to compensate our financial losses, to be able to bring our sister home with us with any further state problems...-.
The Stanleys hadn't really specified whether they wanted to take their younger sister home alive or dead.
In any case, in order to have some more support, the Baron accepted those conditions.
On the other hand, at that moment the revolutionaries were helping them, but then in the future, problems would certainly arise as some wanted to re-establish a monarchy, while the others wanted to lead to a republic.
Afterwards the Viscounts of Man the congress began to speak chaotically, leaving room to respond only to the largest representative of Wales.
-Wales will be willing to donate 100,000 of its soldiers to this cause, of which 30% cavalry and 70% infantry, including guns, as many as we can afford and gunpowder supplies for muskets and rifles-.
That proposal was certainly advantageous, as Wales, also quite rich and powerful, stood on English soil as a small independent kingdom.
The Pembroke family, governors of Wales, also had much to make England pay, as the princess herself became the cause of the death of their precious grandson, Gilbert.
The evident discussion of the participants did not wait to be heard, when before it could degenerate into personal antagonisms a faint, young voice interrupted them from the far end of the door.
-Father ...- called the voice, making it clearer to everyone that they were not alone.
And as it was perceived, the presence of the young Rudolph was in fact ascertained at the end of the door that connected with the outside.
That little boy was in a not acceptable condition for a young lord, as evening has already come, he should have been sleeping for a long time, instead of meddling in adult chores.
He was furthermore dressed in his white pyjama, devoid of any white wig that covered his thick ash red hair.
In Rudolph's gray eyes, anxiety and anguish were reflected, as well as a luster as he carefully observed all the people surrounding that table.
It was the servants duty to bring his son to sleep, to take care of him in some way, certainly not his, of a lord, who at that time was mostly engaged in an international alliance.
-Forgive me...please take a pause for reflection, we will resume in a few minutes...- Juniper said, trying to pretend nothing happened and trying to be a good father for the little one.
He closed the door behind him, leaving all the lords and ladies in that room to whisper words behind him, in a heartfelt murmur.
As soon as the action was done and no longer being able to ruin his image as a noble, he placed both his hands on his son's shoulders, observed him in his eyes full of fear and of a dark grey colour like the stones.
-You should have been in bed for some time now, what are you doing here?- the Baron asked with a quite severe look, admonishing the child of his mistake.
The child did not seem to be offended or saddened so much, but more than anything else, in his mind he felt fear and anguish.
-Who are all those people? What are they doing here? Is a war about to break out?- those questions came out of the boy's pale and thin lips like a whisper of fear rather than sadness.
Juniper looked at him, amazed by his son's insight.
In any case, he had to look away from the boy, as if, for a few seconds, it seemed to him, by likeness, that he was speaking with Gilbert himself instead of his son.
Rudolph was one of those cases, of those low percentages, where a child resembled a parent in every characteristic and unfortunately for his adoptive father, the boy was born exactly resembling his biological father.
-Are you afraid?- asked the Baron, wanting to make sure that his son did not worry too much.
Rudolph's gray eyes soon took on a certain humidity, passing to gush in fluid and cold tears on his pale cheeks.
-I don't want you to die father... I don't want to be alone here, without you...- almost without thinking about it Rudolph's arms soon closed around his father's chest, squeezed him, left on chest of that the cold freshness of tears.
-Without you I would not know what to do, I would be lost...- the child sobbed, holding his father more and more tightly to him, not letting him go -please father, don't go...don't do it-.
Everything for Juniper was so strange, that that little boy, whom he had not generated, who actually had nothing to do with his genetics, was so close to him, so attached, even emotionally.
The Baron in turn hugged his son to himself, caressed his hair, he was his father, even if not biologically.
He had raised him, had given him a high-level education, a tutor who also served the young man as a counsellor and attendants who always obeyed the young lord.
-I love you too, Rudolph...-.
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