by Morgan Rice
In the distance, he could hear cheers: cheers for Royce, cheers for his victory. Those should have been Altfor’s cheers, and right then it felt as though Royce had stolen them from him, the way that he had stolen so much else.
“Oi, what do you think you’re doing?”
Altfor turned to see one of Earl Undine’s soldiers approaching, the man clearly enjoying the looting after the battle since he was holding a sack of whatever he’d managed to salvage. He also had a short arming sword, holding it pointed at Altfor.
“Same as you,” Altfor bluffed, making his voice as rough as he could. “Trying to scavenge what I can from the dead. Do you like the uniform I found on some noble?” He gestured to the clothes he was wearing.
The other man laughed. “Nice try, but no one speaks like that but a noble trying to pretend he’s common, so he can fit in when he’s slumming it.”
“You think I’m a noble?” Altfor said, since deception still felt like his best way out of this.
“Do you think I’m a fool?” the other man snapped. “Now, the way I see it, there’s two ways we can play this: you come along quietly and I earn a nice fat reward for handing the likes of you back, or you cause me problems and I kill you, then take what I can from your corpse.”
“Or there’s option three,” Altfor said. He drew the sword that was still at his side and thrust in one smooth motion, ignoring the other man’s blade as it passed by. The would-be looter gaped at him open-mouthed like a fish, then crumpled.
Altfor considered his options. Even muddy as he was, this man had still been able to recognize his clothes, and that had marked him as a target. He needed to look like something other than a member of the wrong army, trying to run.
Holding back his disgust as best he could, Altfor stripped the other man’s clothing from him, pulling on the tunic and surcoat, hoping that it would be enough to disguise him. His own clothes, he stuffed into the looter’s sack, and Altfor was pleased to find it stuffed with coins and jewelry, silver belt buckles and even a few gold teeth. There was enough coin there to see him on his way.
On his way to where, though? It seemed obvious to Altfor that he couldn’t return to the castle. Even if he made it back there with a group of his men, and even if they could be trusted not to surrender, they would still be stuck in the middle of a siege, with no obvious way out.
He wouldn’t just wander his lands like some dispossessed peasant, though. That would make him a target, and even if it didn’t, he had no wish to sleep out in the cold, or to let this end peacefully. He wasn’t going to slip away and pretend that none of this had happened.
That left one option: going to the king.
King Carris had commanded that his lords should not fight, yet Earl Undine had disobeyed that in invading Altfor’s lands. Worse, Royce had risen up, and was claiming to be something that Altfor would have thought impossible, if he hadn’t seen the strange white glow over the battlefield in the seconds before people started to run.
The king would have to help, and when he did, Altfor would ride with him, ready to reclaim his lands. He would enjoy that part, not least because it would finally confirm him as the duke outright. He would ride in, and see Royce slain, and have all that should have been his all along.
That thought was enough to make Altfor smile, and he turned south, ready for the long walk ahead to wherever the king’s court had processed this month.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
From the battlefield, they marched to the castle, and Royce was relieved to find it empty. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want the dangers of a siege for his people, but he didn’t want them for anyone else, either. Even the best-trained force might sack a town, if it only broke into it through force.
Instead, they marched through the settlement, and the people there turned out to watch them, looking worried at first, then happier as they realized what had happened to their hated duke, then happier still as they realized who had done it. By the time their small army reached the castle, people were throwing flowers in Royce’s direction.
The castle’s emptiness made it echo. It seemed that everyone had run from it, right down to most of the servants. Perhaps they had taken the opportunity to run from a lord who abused them so much, or perhaps they had been worried that an invader would do even worse to them. There were a few hidden away, but not many.
Royce was both grateful and saddened that Genevieve wasn’t there. If she had been, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.
“It’s all right,” Earl Undine said, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll soon find people to get a feast going. Olivia will be coming up from the camp, and if anyone can organize a good feast, it’s my daughter!”
He sounded happy in that moment, and more fully himself than at any point since Royce had first met him. It seemed that the earl was a man who thrived on a battle.
“What do we do now?” Royce asked, looking around at the emptiness of the great hall. After the battle, things seemed so… still, like the whole world was waiting to see what would happen next.
“I’ve told you,” Earl Undine said. “We feast!”
“But that—” Royce began.
“It’s not a frivolity, or a waste,” the earl insisted. “We have won a great victory, so we must show the people that, and we must show our soldiers that we are taking the time to enjoy their achievements. So we feast. King’s son or not, I will hear no arguments on this.”
Royce didn’t argue, and soon, preparations for the feast were in full swing. Men and women came and went, and Royce sat at the heart of it all, but it seemed that he didn’t have anything to do except be there. He sat and he watched as more and more people arrived, until finally, the one person whose presence could actually make the room seem alive showed up.
Olivia walked through the door, and it was like the room lit up. She didn’t bother with formalities, just ran over in Royce’s direction and threw her arms around him, holding him tight. Royce held to her too, although she winced when he did that.
“Too much armor,” she said.
“I’ll take it off for the feast,” Royce promised.
“Father has declared a feast?” Olivia said.
“He made it sound as though it wasn’t optional.”
Olivia smiled at that. “I’m really glad that you’re safe. If my father had allowed it, I would have ridden into battle beside you to see you safe.”
“I am safe,” Royce promised. “And now, it’s done. It’s over.”
Olivia shook her head. “Not until my father gets his feast.”
Royce smiled back at her. “Then let’s give him it.”
***
They declared a holiday for the feast, welcoming any of the ordinary people who wanted to attend. They came in their droves, perhaps partly to see what was going on, but partly, Royce hoped, because they felt safe there now.
They broke open wine and beer from the castle’s cellars, cooked whole sides of beef and suckling pigs over the fires in the kitchens. The cooks had run with most of the other people from the castle, but a few had trickled back, along with others including minor nobles and courtiers who looked around as though half expecting the crowd to tear them apart at any moment.
“What are you going to do with them?” Mark asked Royce, with a nod across to them.
Royce shook his head. “Nothing. If they do us no harm, then they’re just the same as everyone else.”
For the moment, he wanted to concentrate on the feast. Someone had found a set of pipes and a harp, and between them they were striking up a series of lively dances. People whirled in those, bouncing from one partner to the next like seeds blown on the wind, while at least one woman came up to Royce.
“Would you like to dance, my lord?”
“Forgive me…”
“Moira,” she said. “I was the wife of Altfor’s brother.”
“And you’re still here?” Royce said. “You want to dance with me?”
She curtseyed
. “You saved me by killing him, my lord. I was hoping to express to you just how grateful I am for that.”
Royce shook his head. “I’m sorry, but no. I’m not in the mood to dance, Moira.”
“If not dancing, then…”
Thankfully, Olivia chose that moment to step in. She looked perfect tonight, as if she had just stepped out of some sculptor’s vision.
“You look better without the armor,” she said to Royce, holding out a hand to him, and Royce took that hand, forgetting in an instant that he’d just told Moira he wasn’t interested in dancing.
He whirled with her around the floor, and it seemed as if the world only contained the two of them. He ignored attempts by other women to catch his eye, focusing only on Olivia’s presence, and the scent of her so close.
“You dance well,” she said, sounding a little surprised.
Royce smiled at that. “The footwork isn’t so different from a fight.”
“No,” Olivia agreed, with a half transition to something that might have been a wrestler’s hold for a moment before she continued the dance. Royce laughed and moved with her.
“You are amazing,” he said.
“Well, you aren’t so bad yourself,” she replied. “The kind of boy that…”
“That what?” Royce asked, but Olivia was already spinning away, off onto the dancefloor. “That what?”
She glanced back at him and smiled, but didn’t come back to answer.
A heavy hand landed on Royce’s shoulder, and he didn’t have to look round to know that it was Earl Undine standing there.
“You know that my daughter likes you?” he said.
Royce nodded. “I do.”
“And you like her?”
Royce only paused for a moment before he nodded. “Yes.”
“Then you and I should talk a moment.” Earl Undine said, waving the way back to a bench where there was enough room for both of them. They sat, and Earl Undine grabbed a chicken leg.
“Are you about to warn me away from your daughter, my lord?” Royce asked.
“More the opposite,” Earl Undine said. “Please understand that I have no interest in forcing Olivia into a match she does not want, nor you, but…”
“You’re talking about the two of us getting married?” Royce said.
“You have proved who you are to me,” Earl Undine said. “You have proved your bravery to the people who saw you fight, but to truly have authority, you need a real connection to a noble house. You are the king’s son, but not a legitimate one, and marriage would start to overcome that.”
“My lord,” Royce said. “Olivia is beautiful and wonderful and…”
“And you only just met her,” Earl Undine said. “I understand. But talk with her, consider what you both want. You don’t have to commit to anything yet, but if you want…”
He took out a small pouch, tipping something out onto Royce’s hand. The ring… the ring was beautiful, a tiny cluster of bronze leaves woven together with silver wire. Although well cared for, it was clearly old, and Royce handled it with reverence.
“This was given to me a long time ago,” Earl Undine said. “If you and Olivia wish it, and only if you wish it… maybe you could give it to her.”
Royce didn’t know what to say to that. “Thank you, my lord.”
He made his way across the room, to a spot where Olivia was perched by one of the hall’s windows, sipping from a goblet. She looked over at Royce as he approached and smiled.
“I saw you over there with my father,” she said. “What was he trying to talk you into?”
By way of an answer, Royce held out his hand, the ring sitting there in his palm.
Olivia took it from him, holding it up to the light. “He gave you this? But this… my grandmother passed it to him. Oh, the silly old… so he wants us married?”
“He was very careful to say that it should only be if we wanted it,” Royce said. “But at the same time…”
“At the same time he pointed out all the reasons that we should, from it being good for our house’s prospects to you needing to ally with a house to make your own claims work?”
She sounded as though a part of her wanted to go over and tell her father exactly what she felt about that.
“He did,” Royce admitted. All of those reasons made sense, and more than made sense. “It’s not just that though.”
“No,” Olivia agreed. “I feel it too.”
“Like… like every time I look at you, there’s something pulling me toward you?” Royce said. “Like the world seems to make more sense when I look at you?”
“Yes,” Olivia said.
“And it’s frightening,” Royce said, because he knew that things shouldn’t move that quickly. He knew that things should take more time, that he should get to know her, that all kinds of things should happen before he got to this stage.
“It is,” Olivia said. “But it’s also exciting. Let’s put it this way: what do you want, Royce?”
On another day, that might have been more complicated. If Genevieve hadn’t rejected him, then things would have been much more difficult. If Olivia hadn’t been so obviously perfect, or the situation hadn’t seemed to be almost designed to push them together…
“I want you,” Royce said.
“I want you too,” Olivia said. “So… what do we do about it?”
There was really only one answer to that; one thing that made sense. Royce held out the ring.
“Olivia… I know this is sudden, but… will you marry me?”
Olivia nodded. “Yes. Yes, I will.”
Royce pulled her close, kissing her, and in that moment the kiss seemed to consume everything. Olivia was the world for him right then, and he couldn’t think beyond her. Even when they pulled back, he found his eyes drawn to her.
She smiled. “Would you like to dance again?”
“Yes,” Royce said. “I would like that more than anything.”
***
Royce woke the next day in rooms that he guessed must have been Altfor’s. Olivia wasn’t there, unfortunately, because she’d gone away under her father’s watchful gaze as the feast had started to wind down. No one was there except Ember, perched on the bedstead, and as Royce rose, it seemed that the whole place was so quiet that it might have been empty again.
He dressed and went downstairs. Plenty of people still seemed to be sleeping, but there were people in the hall. Earl Undine was there, and Royce’s brothers, Olivia, and Mark. There were others too, watching what was happening with the bleary looks of people who had clearly overdone things the day before. Royce could forgive them that, after the victory they’d all helped to win.
“Good morning,” he said to all of them, but their looks said that things were anything but good. Earl Undine looked particularly serious.
“What is it?” Royce asked.
Raymond turned to him and sighed. “We’re just going through all the things that still need to be done. We won, but now there are all kinds of other things that need to happen.”
“Such as?” Royce asked.
Olivia spoke. “King Carris will be coming. He’ll see you as a threat after everything you’ve done, even if not as a rival, then at least as someone who managed to raise a rebellion and overthrow a lord.”
“And someone who managed to persuade me to break his peace,” Earl Undine added. “He’ll want an example made for that.”
Royce could see that. Yesterday had been a day of joy and victory, not thinking about the future. Now, the consequences of everything they had done were coming, and they would have to find a way to deal with them.
“I have to leave, don’t I?” he said, and now he could understand the seriousness of Olivia’s expression, because the thought of having to leave so soon after meeting her felt like a dagger piercing through his heart.
“Your presence will draw the king quicker,” Earl Undine said. “If you leave, and I return to my lands with my daughter… he may pause before he ac
ts.”
“May pause?” Royce asked. “Is there nothing I can do to make this certain?”
“The only thing that might do it is if you find your father,” Earl Undine said. “And he has not been seen… well, almost since when you were born.”
“There have been messages though,” Olivia said. “You showed me one, Father.”
“Yes, but it made no sense,” Earl Undine said. “He said that he was seeking the ‘mirror of wisdom.’ That isn’t enough to find anyone.”
On Royce’s shoulder, Ember squawked. The bird flew a broad circle around the room, then plunged out the door like an arrow shot from a bow. Royce reached out to look through her eyes… and found himself looking at the witch, Lori.
“The mirror is a thing out of legends,” she said. “They say that it lies on the Seven Isles. If you’re seeking it… that is a different path from the one I saw. Something is changing. Something is shifting. I am not sure what is happening, Royce, and we may all be in danger because of it.”
The connection to Ember abruptly cut, and less than a minute later, the bird flew back into the hall, landing on Royce’s outstretched arm.
“How much do you see through her eyes?” he whispered to the bird, and not to the bird, all at once. He looked up to the others. “The Mirror of Wisdom is supposed to be on the Seven Isles, does anyone know of them?”
“They are an old place,” Mark said. “A place where the beings that live there… they’re not even human, Royce. You can’t go.”
“I think I have to,” he said. He turned to Olivia. “I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to leave you like this.”
“But you have to,” Olivia said. She nodded. “And that is what it means sometimes to be someone special. Special to the world, and special to me.” She moved forward to hug him. “You have to go, but I want you to come back too. Come back to me, Royce. We’re engaged, after all.”
“I will,” Royce promised. He looked around at his brothers. “You won’t be able to stay here either. The king might come hunting for me, but we’ve already seen one noble come hunting for you because of that.”