In Service Of The King (Book 2)

by Steven Styles

  “Well, let us go down; there are a few people present that I wish to know better.”

  Once they gained the entry hall, Tyrus nodded at his servants; one of them immediately went forth and spoke quietly with Harold as he stood in the ballroom doorway. Turning around, Harold took up the bell once more and struck it; the clear sound rang above the heads of the crowd and stillness descended upon the entire room.

  “His royal highness, Hatyrus Chalamysh, Duke of Kyrios,” Harold announced, with reverence. “His highness has come to act as host tonight, at the request of my master the Lord of the Stone Mountain, whom has been called away on urgent business for the King.”

  All eyes moved to the door as two richly dressed attendants appeared and moved away to stand by either side of the doorway. Tyrus emerged, his face calm as ever, his hands clasped behind his back; as he passed by guests bowed and curtsied to him. Behind Tyrus strode Hezekiah, his plumed cap on his arm. Tyrus’ attendants followed, carrying a jeweled flask of wine along with a silver platter bearing an ornate goblet.

  A respectful hush and muted whispers sounded as Tyrus made his way around the ballroom; he did not speak to anyone but gave a brief nod now and then.

  “A duke?” Mrs. Hays whispered, her eyes round. “I had not heard a duke would be attending.” The Countess Beckenridge seemed just as surprised as she.

  “He is cousin to the King,” the lady said, leaning a little towards the general’s wife. “His family wealth comes from the stone trade; he owns many flint and marble quarries. Little else in known of him but it is rare indeed to see him at any social gathering! He must be great friends with the Lord of the Stone Mountain that he would agree to act as host for him. The Duke is a widower; he lost his wife three years ago, just after their last daughter married; a tragedy… she was a lovely woman.”

  Mrs. Hays perked up at this information.

  “Indeed? How sad… does he plan to re-marry?” she inquired, looking around for Elizabeth. She did not succeded in spying her daughter, the room was so full of guests. The countess looked at the woman by her side condescendingly, giving a soft snort of disapproval. Mrs. Hays took a cue from her and remained quiet.

  The Count Beckenridge came to his wife’s side, watching as the crowd parted for the Duke.

  “He is making to way to the fireplace,” the nobleman told his wife, keeping his voice low. “Let us go and pay our respects.” The countess nodded eagerly, lifting her chin as she took her husband’s arm. Mrs. Hays trailed along after them; as she passed her husband, she tugged sharply on the General’s arm. Seeing her object,General Hays came along, his back straightened tolerably well.

  Tyrus stood by the fireplace, conversing quietly with Hezekiah. Awe and fear kept the other guests at a respectful distance. Only the Duke’s silent attendants stood nearby. Seeing a fine couple approach Tyrus paused speaking to the Marshal and let his gray gaze rest upon the Count and Countess Beckenridge. The man and his wife bowed deeply before the Duke, smiles wide and eyes aglitter. Here was real nobility and wealth, far beyond that of their own sphere.

  “Pardon our intrusion, my lord,” the Count Beckenridge said, bowing a second time. “It has been too long since you bestowed your great presence upon us, your humble servants.” Tyrus regarded them in silence for a moment, then turned and accepted his bejeweled goblet from his attendant. The count and his wife appeared to be holding their breath, waiting for some acknowledgment from him.

  “I thank you, for your kind words, Count Beckenridge,” he said, at last. The count and countess moved forward a step, visibly relieved at being recognized; Beckenridge nodded at Hezekiah, whom did not return the gesture. Mrs. Hays and the General stood a little ways off, uncertain of what to do. Tyrus’ gaze flickered to them a moment, then looked away. Leaning one arm on the white marble mantle-piece, Tyrus addressed the count one more.

  “How goes the fine gold-smithing trade, Beckenridge?” the Duke asked, his countenance stoic. The count did not step forward; the nearness of Hezekiah’s severe figure did not allow him to do so comfortably.

  “It is not very well, my Lord,” the man replied, adopting an air of importance. “The price and quality of Kingdom gold continues to drop. It has been some years since I turned my merchants to gemstones. I have recently entered into a contract with Bishop Sytel to supply all the province cathedrals with what jewels they require.” Tyrus nodded at this, but said nothing. Beckenridge pressed onward. “As I understand, my lord… the good Bishop attended Academy with you.” A nod from the duke confirmed this and effectively silenced the subject.

  Taking a drink of his wine, Tyrus let his gaze fall upon the countess’ necklace.

  “One can always weigh a nobleman’s wealth by the gifts he gives his wife,” he stated. “That is an enormous ruby.” The countess curtsied at this, smiling.

  “Those stones are indeed rare,” the count put in, nodding. “Part of a special collection of my own.”

  “Indeed,” Tyrus returned. “That hue is quite unique. I find myself interested in purchasing some, myself. Have your chief merchant contact my steward on the matter.” The count bowed again, twice.

  Looking over at the General and Mrs. Hays, the duke let an attendant fill his goblet. “And, what are the names of your acquaintances?” he inquired of the Count and Countess. The couple turned slightly to look at the General and Mrs. Hays, hovering a few feet away. The long pause made a wave of nervousness wash over Mrs. Hays.

  “My lord…” General Hays said. “Octavian Hays, chief steward of the Lord of the Stone Mountain.”

  “It’s General Hays, actually…” his wife, put in, tittering nervously. All within earshot looked askance at the general’s wife. Tyrus raised an eyebrow at the General and his wife.

  “My lord, please forgive this woman’s outburst…” the Countess Beckenridge said, giving Mrs. Hays a cold look. “They are hardly acquainted with noblemen of your caliber. In fact, their daughter is engaged to a local blacksmith…” The noblewoman related this information with no small amount of humor. “A peasant, as well… one by name of Joseph I believe, from the tiny village of Rishown.”

  The Count Beckenridge jumped eagerly into the conversation.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. “A disturbing report has reached us that this blacksmith vilely attacked the eldest son of the noble family Von Curtis.”

  “Oh, my Lord…” Mrs. Hays blurted out. “It is not so. Our daughter is not engaged to any blacksmith. She is yet, unattached and if you…” General Hays looked at his wife in shock, and shook her arm a little.

  Clearing his throat, Hezekiah spoke up, interrupting whatever Mrs. Hays was about to say.

  “You are concerned with disturbing reports of blacksmiths, Count Beckenridge,” he stated, grimly; the man’s blue eyes were like stone as he put his hand to the hilt of his sword. “However, reports of noblemen dallying with the wives of other men do not seem to concern you at all…” The count took a step back, his face pale.

  Tyrus reached over and put his hand on Hezekiah’s shoulder.

  “I have heard the ill-begotten rumors that the family Von Curtis and others have spread,” Tyrus said, gravely. “I can assure you, that these rumors have no foundation in truth.” The Duke took one step forward. “Those whom conflagrate vicious lies risk losing their titles, even banishment.” Tyrus’ voice rose so that those nearby could hear this warning clearly.

  Bowing low, the Count and Countess Beckenridge hastily withdrew from the Duke’s presence. General Hays guided his wife away from the scene as well.

  Harold stepped through the crowd, bowing towards the Duke.

  “Speak,” Tyrus said, nodding at the steward.

  “My lord, the Bishop Ithycor has arrived.” Harold said, with respect. Tyrus nodded glancing at Hezekiah. The Marshal appeared calm again, at least for the moment.

  OUTSIDE ON the grand balcony, Joseph and Elizabeth stood by the railing looking at the vast expanse of stars overhead. Other couples also strolled t
he large space, though far enough away to speak privately.

  “I may have much work until summer,” Joseph told his fiancée. “I have to prepare my house for a wife.” Elizabeth smiled a little.

  “I have seen your forge from the outside,” she said, smiling a little. “It is known that you keep it well. I will not be ashamed to live there with you.” At her words, Joseph smiled down at her with real pleasure.

  A blue-uniformed guard walked up to Joseph, arresting his attention from Elizabeth; the newcomer spoke with him quietly for a moment. Standing a little to one side, Elizabeth could not hear what was being said. Joseph nodded at the man and turned back to his fiancée.

  “I must go now,” he said; the tone of his voice was hard for Elizabeth to fathom. “I will be gone some months with work. I will write you in a week’s time, when I am able.”

  “I will miss you,” Elizabeth admitted, feeling sadness well up in her.

  “I will return in time for our wedding,” Joseph promised. Giving her a smile, Elizabeth let his arm go.

  “This is the finest evening I have ever spent in anyone’s company,” she told him. Joseph smiled at her again; his brown eyes held an expression of heartfelt fondness. Moving slightly, he brought out a small, leather pouch from his tunic.

  “I made this for you,” he said, in his deliberate way. “It will remind you of our promise while I am away.”

  Elizabeth felt a slender, delicate ring drop into her hand. The gold appeared very plain, with no stone at all; she thought it was beautiful.

  “I shall wear it,” she toldhim, returning his gaze. “And when my eye falls upon it, my thoughts will turn to you.” Joseph kissed her hand.

  “I HAVE never been so embarrassed in my life!” Mrs. Hays hissed to her husband. They stood in the corner of the ballroom furthest from the Count and Countess Beckenridge. “Who does that countess think she is, referring to me as some cottar’s daughter? Where is Elizabeth?! I wish to leave, immediately!”

  The General downed the wine in his glass in one gulp.

  “Perhaps you would not be so embarrassed, madam, if you would keep your mouth shut…” he said, tersely. His wife shot him an angry glare.

  “Do not blame me, husband,” she snapped. “It is that blacksmith’s fault! Because of him we are shamed, poor and fallen lower than ever! Oh, that he had never been born!”

  The general grunted at this, allowing a servant to re-fill his wineglass.

  “Mrs. Hays… on that we are in agreement,” Octavian Hays said, at last. “Though he appears vindicated of all wrongs, the blacksmith seems to be a thorn in our side.” The words poured from him in a dreadfully bitter tone, even to the ears of his wife. Sensing she’d won a pivotal battle Mrs. Hays patted his arm, feeling a little better.

  A man cleared his throat behind the pair and they turned to face the owner. Harold stood behind them, accompanied by a richly-dressed man of portly stature, with graying, well groomed hair.

  “General,” Harold said, nodding his head. “May I introduce to you Aidan Simms, esquire… solicitor of my master. He has a matter of some import to discuss with you.” General Hays nodded at the man and took a drink of wine. Mrs. Hays was immensely curious but held her peace.

  “Perhaps, General, you and your lovely wife will accompany me to the library, where we may speak privately,” the solicitor suggested, grandly. Nodding, the General and his wife followed him from the ballroom, with Harold walking after them.

  The castle steward let his former employers into the library and then withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him.

  “I assure you…” the solicitor began, standing behind a long, burnished table. “There is no cause to be alarmed. Please sit down,” the man indicated two cushioned chairs for them to sit in. The general and his wife did so, wondering what this man was going to tell them. On the table stood a small, ornate wooden chest carved with splendid designs.

  “I will speak to you frankly. My employer, the Lord of the Stone Mountain is unmarried. Not being an old man, he wishes to marry but has found no young woman equal to his taste. That is, until he happened to see your daughter, Elizabeth walking upon the shore by your cottage.” Mrs. Hays clutched her husband’s hand under the table. The solicitor went on. “He was prepared to propose to your daughter but heard that she was recently engaged. This night, however, you appeared to have denied this fact. Am I correct?”

  General Hays’ eyes drifted down to the chest on the table. It looked capable of holding many, many coins. Even if they were silver, it would be enough to live very well the rest of their lives. He felt his wife squeeze his hand, very hard. The general met the solicitor’s glance.

  “You are correct,” he stated. “To my knowledge my daughter is unattached.” Beside him, Mrs. Hays exhaled in relief. The solicitor smiled, a little.

  “Then my Lord has given me leave to offer you this as a bride-price,” he said; with both hands, the man opened the top of the chest. Inside lay hundreds of glimmering gold coins; the sight of them dazzled both the general and his wife. “Five-hundred gold coins,” the solicitor said, reverently. “It is a princely sum… I have a contract here to sign, should you agree to this bargain.”

  “I will sign it,” General Hays said, with haste.

  The solicitor nodded at this; his expression remained impassive.

  “As it would be beneath you to be the Lord’s steward as well as his father in law, my lord offers his own servants to aid you in moving to an estate of your choice and will pay your expenses thusly,” the solicitor finished, fetching a piece of embellished parchment from a leather case at his side. “If you find this acceptable, General, please make your mark here.” The General did so, signing his name in a hasty scrawl.

  “Excellent,” the solicitor said, smiling. He took the parchment and sprinkled powder on the signature and sealed the document with his own stamp in wax. “As is customary, pray give the Lord your signet ring to hold as collateral to this contract until the wedding. He will return it after the wedding ceremony.”

  Standing, the General took off his gold signet ring and dropped it into the solicitor’s outstretched hand.

  “My lord thanks you for your great service,” Simms said, smiling. “You are free to seek out a new estate. Take care to send me word of your new location; I will see you get an invitation to the wedding.”

  “Good sir…” Mrs. Hays said, feeling a little giddy at this turn of fortune. “Pray tell me when the Lord wishes to marry our daughter.” Solicitor Simms blinked at her.

  “In the early summer,” he said. “I will have the servants take this chest to your carriage for you. I wish you both a good evening.”

  Elizabeth was found by her parents half an hour later; their changed demeanor surprised her greatly. Her mother looked positively elated,while her father stoodthoughtful, and silent. They expressed a desire to leave the ballatonce,onyl pzzling their daughter further.

  On the ride homeward, Mrs. Hays turned to her daughter.

  “My dear girl,” she said, smiling. “Your nineteenth birthday is soon, is it not?” Elizabeth nodded, slowly.

  “It is Tuesday next, madam,” she replied. Leaning forward, her mother patted her hand.

  “I have been rather hard on you as of late,” Mrs. Hays said, smiling again. “Your father and I wish to send you to your cousin Amelia, as an early birthday present. Would you like that, my dear?”

  Elizabeth smiled, despite of her mother’s odd behavior; Amelia was her favorite relation, a young mother near her age, with a sweet country home and large flower garden. Visiting her would be a welcome respite.

  “That I would!” she said, happily; the thought of missing Joseph’s letters however tempered her excitement. “How long would I be gone? Amelia’s home is nearly two day’s journey from here.”

  “Stay three days with her then come back to us,” Mrs. Hays said. “Or, longer, if you wish. I am certain your cousin would not mind. I’ll have Annie wake you early tomorr
ow to start your journey. Pack your things tonight to take with you.” Nodding, Elizabeth eagerly looked forward to the morning. With Joseph gone away for many weeks, she did not want to remain here, but for his letters.

  “Thank you, father…” she said, quietly. “What a wonderful gift.” Though his daughter smiled at him, Octavian Hays did not look at her. Indeed he could not; he knew the plans he and his wife had made would soon wipe away all of the young girl’s happiness.

  THE HOLIDAY flew by swiftly. Upon arriving at her cousin’shome Elizabeth was overjoyed to see her and be able to converse freely again.She spent the warm afternoons playing with her tiny niece and nephew in the flowering garden. Expecting her third child soon, Amelia welcomed her cousin’s help with watching the little ones. Three days seemed far too short to stay; Amelia and her husband urged Elizabeth to stay longer, but the young woman was eager to return home. Anticipation laced the carriage air the whole length of the journey back to Stone Mountain Estate; she hoped to see a letter from Joseph upon her return.

  The cottage yard looked strange as the hired carriage pulled up; it seemed abnormally vacant of activity. The door to the sables swung freely in the Bay breezes. Getting out of the carriage, Elizabeth bade the driver to wait. Hastening up the steps of the cottage she opened the front door. An empty hall met her eyes; all the familiar things were gone from the walls. Bewildered, Elizabeth peered into her father’s study. It, too, was bare and swept.

  Hearing steps from somewhere in the house, Elizabeth moved towards the sound. Annie, the maid, appeared in the drawing room doorway.

  “Miss… you’ve returned,” Annie said, looking past her young mistress towards the front door. “Is the carriage yet here?” Elizabeth nodded, dumbly.

  “Where are my parents?” she asked. Annie glanced at the young woman and managed a half-smile.

  “They have gone to purchase a new estate, miss,” the maid said, simply. “They said Forester Reeves and his wife are to look after you until the wedding. They told me to wait here until you came back and then take the carriage to meet them in the Easterly Province, by the city of Munitio.”