Pushing by the man, Mrs. Hays swept down the steps into the carriage. Without a word, Dunner swung up and took over the reins from the driver; they made good time and soon the small town of Dorenvines came into view.
“Stop here, at the smithy!” Mrs. Hays ordered through the small window. Pulling up to the smith, Dunner glanced back and saw the door of the carriage open; slapping the reins, he made the horses jump forward a little. He heard the angry woman stumble a little inside the carriage and chuckled. The driver beside him looked concerned, but said nothing.
“You madman!” Mrs. Hays screeched. “Hold this carriage still so I can get out!”
“My apologies ma’am,” Dunner said, smiling to himself. Bustling about, Mrs. Hays opened her own door and stepped out of the carriage. Swinging down, Dunner stood by the door of the forge, looking at Mrs. Hays.
“You are supposed to open the door!” she demanded, glaring at the man. Dunner reached over and opened the wooden door and then walked through it, himself. “Uncouth villain!” Mrs. Hays cried, infuriated; she swatted the door open with her own hand. “I shall see to it that the Lord of the Stone Mountain relieves you of your position!”
His work done for the day, Joseph sat in his forge in a chair, with his feet on a barrel a newly-purchased book in hand; the smith calmly turned a page, letting out a relaxed breath. For out in the yard, he heard a carriage rattle up the road and then stop. Joseph put the book down, listening; strange voices came from outside, sounding like an older woman arguing with someone.
The smith stood up as the forge door opened. In strode Dunner, a black look marring the old sailor’s face. About to greet the man, Joseph stopped. Behind his old friend strode the brittle and angered form of Elizabeth’s mother. Beholding Joseph, the woman stopped and fixed him with an icy glare.
“I demand that you rescind any and all claims to my daughter,” she instructed. “You are but a dirty peasant, fit only to make shoes for our horses! I will never allow our family to be shamed by such a match. It is unthinkable!”
Joseph kept her gaze with unwavering eyes.
“Is that all?” he asked. Momentarily puzzled, Mrs. Hays firm expression faltered, slightly.
“What do you mean, peasant?” she demanded.
“Does one of your horses need to be shod?” Joseph asked, calmly. “Or are you here merely to provide conversation?”
“You … insolent scoundrel!” Mrs. Hays screeched. “My husband is acquainted with the Lord of the Stone Mountain! I’ll have you run out of this town… disgraced!” With this, she turned to Dunner. “I have my own driver and will not need your ‘protection’ on the way back.” She left the forge and soon the carriage rattled out of the smithy yard.
A few moments of silence reigned in her wake; Dunner regarded Joseph a moment, smoking his pipe.
“I don’t envy you lad,” he said. “I’d rather swim with ravenous sharks than ride with her again.” Joseph let out a long breath.
“Indeed,” he said. “I thank you for again posing as the captain of the guard.” He went over to a desk in the corner and sat to write. “It seems the general’s wife hold us both in high regard.” Dunner chuckled, looking pleased with himself.
“Ah! I can’t wait to speak of this to Hezekiah!” he said, tapping out his pipe. “He tells me his wife is terrible, but that one makes her appear like a saintly lamb on Sunday…”
Joseph stared at the blank parchment before him for a moment; he dipped the quill in black ink.
“Although I wished to avoid it…” he said, heavily. “I fear I must use the alternate plan.” Nodding, Dunner packed his pipe with fresh tobacco.
“There’s a bit o’ risk with it, young lad,” the sailor remarked. “Bear in mind the best of women might crack under strain like that, let alone a young lass.”
Joseph wrote for a few moments before answering.
“The virtuous woman will endure,” he said. “And, she is virtuous.” Lighting his pipe, Dunner nodded.
“I’m glad you’ve faith enough for the both of us,” said he. Smiling, Joseph wrote on.
A LOUD knock came on the Hays’ residence door some days later.
Elizabeth opened the door to reveal Harold standing on the doorstep, richly dressed; he was accompanied by two armed castle guards. Without a word, he handed over a gilt-edged invitation to the young lady. Reaching into her pocket, Elizabeth drew out a small letter, giving Harold a nod and a smile.
Not far away, Tyrus and Joseph stood out on the wide balcony off the great ballroom of the Stone Mountain castle.
“All renovation are complete, Lord Asher,” said the gray-eyed captain of the Shamar. “Dunner and Hezekiah’s men have defied all odds and proven a boon.” Smiling a little, Joseph nodded.
“Indeed,” he said, leaning his hands on the railing. The splendid view did not succeed in lifting his spirits; serious days were ahead. Tyrus regarded the young man some moments.
“You appear troubled,” the man remarked. “I hope this internal strife will not endanger your health.”
“It will not,” Joseph returned firmly. Thus assured, the gray-eyed man nodded, satisfied.
The door in the glass wall opened, admitting Dunner and Hezekiah to the balcony. Seeing Joseph, the aged sailor hailed him and walked up, along with the tall, bearded man.
“I was just telling Hezekiah here about your prosective mother-in-law,” Dunner said, smiling. Letting out an exasperated breath, Joseph turned to face the men, his countenance colored with a somewhat dark expression.
Any answer he may have had was interrupted by the balcony door opening again. Reeves walked out, followed by Harold. Seeing them, Joseph perked up; Harold carried in his hand a small, white envelope; he held it out, a small smile on his face.
“The invitation was delivered, my lord,” Harold told him. Nodding, Joseph looked at the letter and tucked it away in his tunic.
“I have another letter for you, sir,” Reeves announced. “Delivered by special courier, just a few moments ago. It is from the Count Beckenridge of Vehale. The courier said it was of great import.” The man held out a rich envelope, emblazoned with the crest of Beckenridge in gilded lettering.
“Important letter, eh?” Dunner asked, bringing out his pipe. “Let’s hear it then.”
Reeves looked to Joseph, who nodded. With ceremony proper to such a letter the old steward broke the wax seal, unfurled the fine paper and began to read aloud.
“My fellow Lord and neighbor,” he began. “It is with a heavy heart that I bring sorrowful tidings to you about a certain villainous individual encamped on the outskirts of your fine property. From a credible source—indeed the wife your own able and trusted steward General Octavian Hays—I have learned that the smith is known by the name of Joseph of Rishown, and is by no means an honest citizen. It appears this blaggard made several vicious and violent attacks on a nobleman of high regard to myself, namely the Lord Von Curtis. I have confirmed the account of this with him by letter; this Joseph of Rishown trciked him into a duel and tried to rob him. Von Curtis bears the injustice of the skirmish even to this day.” Here Reeves paused his reading and looked at the assembled men on the balcony.
Hezekiah rubbed his beard in a thoughtful way.
“This Joseph of Rishown sounds like a terrible scoundrel,” he remarked. “That name is… so familiar to me. Give me a moment; I shall remember it presently.”
Dunner laughed very hard at his friends words and puzzled expresison, choking a little on his pipe smoke. Coughing, the aged sailor smiled at Joseph to see how he was taking it. The young man in question narrowed his eyes at Hezekiah, the muscle in his jaw twitching ever-so-slightly. Dunner elbowed his taller friend.
“Don’t mind Joseph there, Hezekiah, he’s under much stress these days, worrying about being killed in his sleep by an angry mother-in-law.”
Tyrus raised his hand and gestured for the men to cease talking.
“All humor aside, this information is of use,” he
said. “The family Von Curtis is corrupted, that we knew; we did not know, however of their link to the Count and Countess Beckenridge.”
“I, have had the pleasure of meeting Count Beckenridge,” Hezekiah put in; all traces of amusement had left his face. “I had suspicions he had charmed my wife into an affair. Rightly, I challenged him to a duel, which he accepted. I ruined a jacket waiting in the rain for him to show, but he did not; I did not even get the pleasure of running him through.”
“You may yet get your chance,” Joseph said, looking at Hezekiah. “He’s accepted my invitation to the Spring ball.” With this, the young lord stalked away, exiting the balcony in a fine temper.
“Ah, young love,” Dunner said, grinning. Hezekiah snorted.
“Let us hope it lasts,” he said, gravely.
Reaching his chambers, Joseph shut the door and sat at his desk; eagerly, he opened Elizabeth’s letter, hoping to read something to cheer him.
“Dearest sir,” it began, “I hope this letter finds you well, and thriving. I have been lonely these several days, not being able to visit town to see you. My mother, though for awhile stricken sullen and silent, appears to have undergone a transformation; I am not certain it is for the better. She seems happier, though she writes a good deal in her study and walks with a lighthearted step, as if pleased with herself. Perhaps it is because she has been in town buying many things. She has ordered new dresses for herself and one for me and they are such of the very finest quality.
The Lord of the Stone Mountain has at last delivered us an invitation to his Spring Ball. My father has been happily reading reports in his study, drinking a very fine liqueur he purchased in town at an obscene cost. I wonder where the money for such things came from and hope they are gifts. I worry about my mother; it is unlike her to change her demeanor without first getting what she wants. I fear something terrible is afoot and hope you remain cautious. I think of you often. Sincerely, Elizabeth.”
Joseph folded the letter up slowly. Opening the lid of an ornately-decorated wooden box—on his desk—he placed the envelope in among the others. Shuttingt he box again, the young Lord of the Stone Mountain leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.
NINE
The day of the Spring Ball at Stone Mountain began much as any other; the air grew warm and the sky brightened as the sun rose. In many houses around the Great Bay—even some in the Capital City—noble families, as well as those of high priests and Senators, strove to ready themselves in their finest clothes, pack and begin their travel to the rich estate of the mysterious Lord of the Stone Mountain. It was some time since an unknown, royally favored nobleman had given a ball. Even the townsfolk of Dorenvines were eager to hear news of the event, due out the following day.
The Hays residence was no different: the maid assisted dressing Mrs. Hays in her room; Elizabeth did not need help, having long attended to herself. The prospect of going to the ball itself was rather distasteful to the young woman, knowing her mother’s reasons for insisting she go. She waited in the entry, the new dancing shoes in hand inside a silken hand-satchel. General Hays came out of his study in his dress uniform and smiled at his daughter. He told her she looked well. She striaghtened one of his shined gold-leafed buttons. Mrs. Hays came out several minutes later, swathed in a brilliant ruby-red gown with long sleeves that dragged on the floor; the dress fabric was covered with embroidery and glittering embellishments and the woman wore every piece of jewelry she’d managed to save from selling. Elizabeth marveled that her mother could even move with all the fabric, metal and stones weighing her down.
“Well, my dear… you look very, fashionable,” the General remarked, frowning. The monstrosity his wife wore probably had cost more than they spent on everything else in the last week. His wife gave him a benevolent smile, believing his words complimentary. With no small amount effort they managed to get Mrs. Hays into the carriage in on piece, and left the cottage yard. The settings sun hovered just above the horizon, sending the first hints of color across the calm waters of the Bay.
Looking out the carriage window Elizabeth allowed herself a small measure of excitement. They had never traveled to the castle before; only a portion of it could be seen from the road. Other carriages traversed the road as well; the Hays were obliged to wait several moments before their carriage had room to turn onto the estate thoroughfare. Elizabeth saw the wisdom of the stone-topped road; the dust created by the carriage wheels was minimal, despite the number of them.
Stone Mountain Castle grew in complexity as they neared it. Watching with alert eyes Elizabeth enjoyed the sight of the thick, deep-green forest blanketing the sides of the mountain, stretching along both sides of the road out of the valley. As they neared the tree line the castle, itself, came into view. The mountaintop split into two pieces, with a flat area between. In this dell the castle sat; a high, stone wall connected the two mountain crags, split by a decorated iron gate. Overhead, three towers rose behind the wall, two smaller and the larger one—off to the left. Finally, the Hays carriage pulled up to the gate, pausing by the armed castle guards on eithe rside of the open gate. One guard checked the Hays’ invitation and waved them through.
The inside of the castle was impressive as well, with its spacious round courtyard, outbuildings, stables and the main manor house, all grouped under the three high towers. Light shone from all the manor buildings windows. Elizabeth’s gaze was immediately arrested by a huge lighted dome rising over the back portion of the building; its colored glass gleamed impressively in the waning sunlight.
Carriages packed the circular drive, each looking finer than the next. Mrs. Hays smiled at the sight of her new friend’s luxurious carriage, bearing the crest of Beckenridge; the fine carriage was parked to the side of the great, stone-flagged castle yard alongside many others. Elizabeth looked at the great, rising edifice of the manor building as their carriage slowly drew nearer.
“Besides the Citadel, this is one of the most defensible fortresses on the Great Bay,” General Hays explained. “It is said that the view from the great balcony here is second only to that the King himself has. The cliffs on the other side of the castle are quite impassible.” The Hays carriage pulled up outside the castle entry, just to this side of a large, bubbling fountain of pure-white stone.
“It is not the most grand of manor houses,” Mrs. Hays remarked, letting her husband help her out. “But, it does look prettily situated.” Without a word, Elizabeth followed her parents up the wide, white staircase to the front entry doors.
The massive wooden and iron doors stood wide open. Guests lined up outside; two men stood with armed castle guards; the men checked invitations again, waving guests inside the entrance. Elizabeth smiled at them as she drew near, recognizing Forester Reeves and Dunner, the surly-faced captain of the guard. Both men returned her curtsey with a nod. Inside, the massive manor-house entryway soared up a full two stories high, the breadth of it lit with glass-encased candles on intricately forged iron holders along the walls. Bright, richly-dyed rugs graced the shined, wooden floors and uniformed servants stood ready along the wall. Looking ahead, Elizabeth saw two grand staircases, both leading up to the second floor.
Between the staircases, two sets of double doors were thrown open; the crest of the lord of the Stone Mountain sat above these doors in white-painted wrought ironwork, set into the wall. Through the doors Elizabeth could see people standing and talking in what appeared to be a very large room, brightly lit room. Wide-eyed she followed her parents though a door, into the grand ballroom.
Having seen many lovely, opulent rooms, Elizabeth nonetheless found that this ballroom harbored charms unlike any she’d ever witnessed. The ceiling took her attention right away; a large dome with colored windows rose high above the floor, catching the very last of the sun’s rays. All around it hung eight huge chandeliers, hung with sparkling crystals which reflected the light of a hundred lit candles. On either side of the ballroom stood two fireplaces alight with burning logs
, helping to heat the enormous space for the guests. Elizabeth admired the floor most; it appeared made entirely of some dark, fitted stone, its color as black as a moonless night.
Looking up, the young woman saw her parents engaged in conversation with a nearby group of fine people; among them stood a noblewoman wearing an even more elaborate dress than Mrs. Hays. Moving away from them Elizabeth wandered though the room; her gaze took in the richness of the space, but noted that the decorations themselves were simple. This lord was wealthy but he seemed un-boastful, even in the arrangement of his home.
At the far end of the great room, a marvelous glass wall of wrought iron and thick panes of shined glass made up the entire back wall; Elizabeth smiled at the sight of it. Glorious sunset colors could be seen through the glass. Drawn to it, Elizabeth stepped through one of the small, inset doors. A wide, curved balcony of white stone stretched before her, edged by an ornate stone wall and brass railing along its very edge.
A few guests stood on the balcony as well, both engaged in talk or watching the splendid view. Elizabeth walked to the low wall; she put her hand on the railing, a look of awe upon her features. The shifting red and delicate orange hues of the sunset filled the sky, reflecting their glorious light on the softly moving waters of the bay. Far away in hte distance, the King’s Citadel could be seen nad beyond, the white buildings of the Capitol City spread out, looking like a pile of pearls spread over green velvet.
Elizabeth stood at the railing for several minutes, silently watching the shifting colors and their effect on the water. So wrapped up in the beauty of the scene was she that she did not hear the approaching footsteps.
“Enjoying the view, Miss Elizabeth?” came a friendly voice. Elizabeth turned towards the speaker with a smile. Harold stood a little ways away, his expression one of amusement.
“Yes… quite so,” the young woman replied, giving a slight curtsy. “You oversee a wonderful home, Harold. It is the most beautiful manor I have ever seen.” The steward of the Stone Mountain castle smiled at this, looking out at the view, himself.
In Service Of The King (Book 2) Page 11