Chapter 16: King’s Estate
The carriage that waited for them was very fine but completely devoid of any mark of the king. Inge might not have noticed, but Nea leaned over and whispered, “I wouldn’t expect to travel under the king’s seal, but shouldn’t it at least have his colors displayed somewhere? You’re supposed to be one of the royal family now, aren’t you?”
Inwardly, Inge’s heart surged. “Maybe he’s going to send me back with you.” It was only the second time that she’d been allowed to leave the castle grounds, and she dearly hoped that it was for good.
Raske was perusing a message he had just received—his promised instructions, Inge guessed—and did not overhear her remark. Thus, he could neither contradict nor confirm it. She watched as a troubled expression creased his brows. He raised his attention from the message and called for his horse to be readied. Then, he rejoined the pair of girls. Inge noticed him tuck the letter safely out of sight.
“Do I have to ride alongside the carriage as well?” she asked.
“No. Children ride inside.”
Nea scoffed into her hand, but the brusque reply cut Inge to the quick. Raske had never openly called her a child before. He had treated her like one on occasion, but only when she was acting childish. She had thought, especially of late, that he saw her more as a comrade.
Resentment nestled in her heart. If he truly saw her as a child, he had absolutely no business kissing her, especially in “the exhilaration of the moment.” It was yet more evidence that the incident had meant nothing to him. She renewed her determination to treat it as nothing as well.
“It never happened,” she reaffirmed under her breath, too low for anyone else to hear.
Presently a stablehand brought Raske’s horse. The captain ushered Inge and Nea into the waiting carriage. He gave some terse instructions to the coachman before hoisting himself into the saddle. The coach rattled behind him out the yard.
Nea peered out the window. “No other soldiers to guard us, either? Well, we are just peasants, but I do find it all very strange. Or is that Captain like your personal bodyguard?”
“He’s not,” Inge replied, a little too quickly.
Surprise flashed across Nea’s face. “You’re blushing!”
Inge could feel the telltale burning on her cheeks, but she denied the accusation. “I am not.”
“You are! You’re blushing!” Nea gasped. “You like him!”
“I don’t, and you’re ridiculous.”
“You like him,” Nea repeated, fixated on the idea. She craned her head to catch a glimpse of Captain Raske astride his horse. “Not that I can blame you. He has such a nice face, with no awful, scruffy beard to hide behind.”
“A beard is a mark of manhood,” said Inge cynically.
“Well, I don’t like them. It’s always a pity when the handsome boys grow up and start sprouting hair all over the place. I wish more men would shave, like your captain does.”
“He’s not my captain!” Inge cried, scandalized.
Nea disregarded her. “He’s a proper man. I might’ve tried for him myself if the opportunity had presented itself.”
Inge bristled. “You’re fourteen! You’re too young to try for anyone!”
Her sister waved a careless hand. “It’s only flirting, and I’m good at it. Oh, don’t worry! Now that I know you like him, I won’t try to cut you out.”
“I don’t like him,” Inge insisted. “He treats me like a child.” She folded her arms and scowled.
“Well, right now you look like a child,” said Nea. “Oh, I almost died when Princess Signe called you my little brother! Does she really not know you’re a girl?”
“Signe believes whatever she’s told. Besides, as you said, I look the part, so why shouldn’t she make assumptions?”
Nea settled back into her seat to study her sister. She was silent for so long that Inge glanced up apprehensively and said, “What?”
“I can’t even—! You didn’t mention a word of this in your letter!”
“I wasn’t allowed to mention a word of it. I was lucky they let me write to you at all! And Captain Bergstrom and Colonel Raske both read through the whole thing, so I had to be extra careful.”
Nea frowned. “I thought you said he was Captain Raske.”
“He is now, but he wasn’t—oh, everything’s a mess! Look, you have no idea what’s been going on!”
“Well, if ever there was a chance for you to tell me,” Nea retorted. Her sarcastic eyes traveled around the otherwise unoccupied carriage.
Inge bit her lower lip. The rattle of the wheels against the road created a perfect buffer to keep the coachman or anyone else from overhearing what she might say. She had had no one to confide in for weeks. She knew that she would have to withhold certain details from Nea—particularly those regarding the attempts on her life—but the opportunity was far too tempting. She threw her mind back in time to pinpoint when exactly her troubles began.
“I guess it really started right after you left. Sassa got sick again, and because of Ulfred, I had no money for medicine. So I sold my hair, which made me look like a boy.”
“That should’ve stuck in Ulfred’s craw, the filthy old man.”
“No, it didn’t,” Inge said flatly. “He claimed that his establishment catered to a variety of tastes. Look, that doesn’t matter anymore. I was short on the rent, with his deadline bearing down on me, so I went out to the woods to clear my head.” She told of the night-walker, then, of the fluke by which she had killed it, of the king’s adoption, of Gunnar being in the city and the children being moved and of how the family legacy even now was kept beneath her bed at the castle. She omitted how exactly Captain Bergstrom had found the cache, but told of Gunnar’s military discharge and his return to the smithy. She told of Bergstrom’s death and that Colonel Raske had killed the second night-walker, though she left out the details of her involvement in this as well. Nea listened to the whole tale with wide-eyed interest.
“And now Colonel Raske’s become Captain Raske, and I’m still stuck as a prince even though I’m a girl, and still with no clue when the king will change his mind and send me on my way. Although, I really hope today’s the day. Even Eirik and Einar have never caused me this much trouble!”
“Give them time,” said Nea in a dry voice. “So at what point in all of this did you start falling in love with your Captain Raske?”
“I didn’t, Linnea. Drop it.”
“You only call me Linnea when you have no other argument. It’s all right to like someone, Inge. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong.”
“Did I mention that he’s known by most of the army as the Demon Scourge?” Inge inquired.
“No, but you did mention that he has one of Papa’s Virtue Swords. You know that Papa was selective on who he gave those to. At least you have a shining recommendation there.”
Obviously her sister was not going to listen to reason. To be sure, Inge was trying to deceive her, but Inge was trying to deceive herself just as much. There was no point whatsoever in harboring such feelings.
Nea read those emotions on her face and promptly swatted her on the leg. “You’re a girl, Ingrid! For once, just be happy to be a girl! If your heart flutters when a certain someone’s near, enjoy it! Your problem with this and everything is that you see nothing but obstacles. Some things—like being suddenly elevated to a royal status—should be enjoyed for their duration. Worry about the obstacles when they actually come!”
Inge had always envied Nea for her carefree nature. It was on display in full force now. “Why don’t you shear off all your hair and take my place,” she suggested cynically.
Nea laughed a pretty laugh. “Not on your life!”
The remainder of their journey was filled with Nea’s stories from the dairy, of the other dairymaids and the hired hands with whom they constantly flirted. When the carriage finally pulled to a stop, Inge was thoroughly convinced that her sister should never go anyw
here near the dairy trade ever again. She withheld this opinion, however, because Nea was the rebellious sort who often did the opposite of what she was told, just to be obstinate.
“Look at that place!” Nea cried, staring out the window. “Is this some sort of joke? The little ones have been living here?”
Inge, who was facing the opposite direction, leaned out of her seat to see why her sister was making such a fuss. Before her eyes a fine manor loomed, large and pristine, a king’s estate in every way. The thought of her little brothers and sisters in this setting made her suddenly nervous.
The carriage door opened. Anxiously she moved forward, but Raske blocked her exit. “By order of the king, you are to remain here, Your Highness.” Even as he spoke, he reached one hand toward Nea to help her descend.
Dismay crashed down upon Inge. “What? After coming all this way, I’m not even allowed to see them?”
“That really is unreasonable,” Nea piped up.
“These are His Majesty’s orders,” Raske repeated. “Please obey. We will return shortly.”
Inge’s breath caught in her throat. “We? Who?”
He glanced from the corner of his eyes to where the coachman stood tending the horses. He wasn’t going to say anything further. Wordlessly he assisted Nea to the ground and shut the door behind her. Inge watched jealously as the captain escorted her sister up the stairs and into the manor house. Left alone, she settled back in her seat, resigned to waiting.
Her indignation welled the longer she sat. She wasn’t bound to obey the king. He could order her around as much as he wanted, but what would he do, really, if she left the carriage and stole a glimpse at her family? What would he do if she took this opportunity to run away?
But really, she had nowhere to run. If her family was here in the king’s power, he had plenty enough leverage to keep her in place. And while she was certain that, given a good head start, she could get away from most of his minions, she had little hope of evading the always capable Captain Raske—and he would come after her, of that she was sure.
A quarter of an hour passed. The early afternoon was warm, and the carriage doubly so. She grew drowsy, her eyelids drooping and heavy. Just as she was about to nod off, something collided with the side of the carriage, jostling her wide awake again.
“Me first!”
“No, me!”
“I got here fair and square, Einar!”
“Oh, shove it up your—”
“Hey!” Inge cried as she pushed the door open. This action threw the two quarreling bodies off-balance. They had both taken hold of the door and were fighting over who got to ascend first, but now they fell to the ground in a tangled pile.
“Inge!” cried Eirik, and he was on his feet again in an instant. “Quick, let me up before he—”
“No you don’t!” cried Einar. He grabbed the back of his brother’s shirt and yanked him to the ground again. This, of course, resulted in Eirik twisting around to punch him. In no time at all, the pair was brawling across the gravel yard.
“Stop it, both of you!” The stringent authority in her voice drew their altercation to a halt. They looked up at her with wide eyes, but then both faces cracked into a mirror-image grin.
“Aw, we’re only playing!”
“Yeah, Inge, there’s no harm in play-fighting!”
They made a great show of helping one another up from the ground and brushing dirt off of each other. In the meantime, a set of pattering footsteps scuttled across the gravel to stop in front of the carriage door.
“First!” chirped Lisbet. “Inge, help me up!”
“Hey!” Eirik and Einar protested in chorus, but Inge had already pulled the four-year-old into the confines of the carriage, and into a tight embrace.
“Lisbet, Lisbet! Oh, I’ve missed you!” she murmured.
Lisbet wiggled out of her grasp. “Are you living with the tomten now?”
“Something like that,” said Inge, and she tweaked her little nose. Any further explanation died as Eirik and Einar crowded into the carriage and instantly started making themselves at home.
“Inge! Inge!” said a quiet voice from beyond the door.
Inge’s heart leapt. “Sassa! You’re better!”
Sassa, looking healthier than Inge had seen her in ages, shyly climbed the steps. Eirik and Einar were fighting over occupation of one particular corner. The whole carriage rocked with their antics.
“Stop it!” Inge commanded again, and they both froze.
“Aw, we’re only playing,” Eirik again replied, that winsome grin on his face.
“Yeah, Inge,” Einar agreed, as he always did. “There’re four corners—enough for all of us to have one.” Then he promptly settled himself across from his brother, much to Lisbet’s ire.
“I’m sitting next to Inge!” she protested.
“Sit on the other side, dummy,” said Einar.
Inge reflexively pinched his ear. “What have I told you about calling her names?”
“Sorry! Sorry!”
Lisbet triumphantly took her place in the empty corner on Inge’s other side. Sassa primly sat across from her.
“How long is the Demon Scourge going to let you visit me?” Inge inquired.
The children exchanged confused glances, but the answer came from Nea at the carriage door. “We’re not visiting. We’re all going together.” She hoisted herself up into the carriage and took the last available space between Eirik and Sassa.
Inge’s dashed hopes swiftly regenerated. “What?”
“You should have seen the poor woman who’s been in charge of watching these two,” Nea remarked. “She nearly burst into tears of joy when your Raske told her to pack their things.”
“He’s not my—” Inge started, with a self-conscious glance toward the door. He was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in earshot.
“He’s stowing our bags in the boot,” Nea said helpfully.
Inge scowled. “So where is it that we’re going?”
Her sister shrugged. None of the younger children had any answers either.
Outside, Captain Raske appeared and firmly shut the carriage door. He tipped his head to Inge through the window, in what seemed like a wordless acknowledgment of her obedience. Then, he moved out of sight.
They listened to an exchange of muffled voices. A set of feet hit the gravel. The carriage lurched forward.
Out the window, Inge caught sight of the coachman standing in the yard, a bewildered look on his face as he watched them leave. Raske, she realized, was the one driving. Confusion budded within her at this strange turn of events.
“Where are we going?” she asked again.
“We’re going wherever the coach takes us, obviously,” said Nea. She had one arm slung protectively around Sassa. “I suppose the king has grown tired of providing for a pack of orphans, and tired of having one of his estates destroyed.” She glanced accusingly at Eirik and Einar.
“We didn’t destroy very much,” said Einar.
“If they didn’t want us playing with stuff, why’d they leave it out?” Eirik added.
“Just enjoy the ride,” Nea told Inge. “None of us knows what lies at the end of it, so there’s no point worrying.”
There was that carefree spirit again. Inge settled back into her seat and, much like Nea was doing with Sassa, pulled Lisbet close to her. Woodland scenery passed the windows. Her earlier drowsiness returned, held off only by Eirik and Einar’s insistence upon playing a game that involved flicking one another to cause pain.
“Stop it,” she chided every few minutes. They even obeyed for a couple of breaths before one of them started back up again.
The ride lasted the better part of an hour. They passed through a couple of small hamlets before the carriage stopped on the outskirts of a village, in front of a roomy stone house with a big yard. Raske opened the door and motioned everyone out.
Inge hopped to the ground. “Where are we?”
“T
he king has provided this house for your family. They’re to live here.”
“What, by themselves?” Inge surmised from his words that she was not to be included in this new arrangement.
“He deems your sister old enough to take care of the others. Their living expenses will be provided for.”
“Is this a payoff to the family for adopting a prince from among them?” she asked cynically.
“It’s more like King Halvard providing for the children of Torvald Geirson,” Raske replied. He crossed to the back of the coach, to unload the family’s few bags. Eirik and Einar had already run ahead to investigate the property, with Lisbet and Sassa on their heels. Nea lingered by the coach to help with the bags, but her eyes wandered further down the road, where more houses and the heart of the village peeked through the trees.
The whole area had a much homier feel than the house they had rented from Ulfred. It reminded Inge of their old village and their abandoned smithy. She imagined that her family would prosper here, but that didn’t stop her worries.
Raske handed off a couple smaller bags to Nea. She headed toward the house.
“You don’t really expect her to watch the kids on her own, do you?” Inge whispered. “She’s only fourteen.”
“Do you think she’s incapable?” Raske inquired. He handed her one of the bags.
“It’s—well, maybe. She’s just young. Her judgment is sometimes lacking—nothing that a couple of years’ more maturity won’t fix, but still, she’s fourteen. She can keep house and watch the kids, but she still needs watching herself from time to time.”
He leveled a steady look upon her. “These are King Halvard’s orders.”
“And you won’t disobey the king,” Inge finished. Reluctantly she hefted the bag and started for the door. He fell in step beside her. “Why did you leave the coachman behind?” she asked curiously. “Was that the king’s order as well?”
“Yes.”
This blunt admission surprised her.
“But why?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say it was so that no one would know where to find your family,” Raske replied, and he seemed overly grim about it.
The Legendary Inge Page 18