“I’m Hope and this is my sister, Grace,” said Hope. “You and I met briefly yesterday, Noah.”
“Aye, I am Grace, my lord,” said the woman, curtseying in front of Orrick, looking up shyly as her cheeks took on a rosy glow.
“Get up, Sister,” said Hope, hooking her hand under her sister’s elbow, pulling her to her feet. “I was so enamored by the sorcerer’s tower room yesterday, that when I told my sister about it, she said she had to see it,” Hope told them.
“Aye, can you show us around?” asked Grace.
“Nay. That’s not possible. I’m needed . . . down in the courtyard. For weapon training,” said Orrick, trying to get rid of the girls.
“Orrick, I can show them around your chamber,” the boy offered excitedly.
“You called him Orrick,” said Hope, looking at them suspiciously.
“Aye,” said Orrick. “I was named after Orrick, the sorcerer. I believe I explained that yesterday. But most people just call me Rick to avoid confusion.”
“I see.”
Knowing Hope wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Orrick decided to show them around quickly and then shove them out the door. As an added precaution, he decided to send Noah away now before he slipped up again and the girls caught on.
“Noah, please go tell Lord Corbett that I’ll be joining him in the practice yard shortly.”
“All right,” said the boy, humming, and heading out the door.
“What did you want to see first?” asked Orrick, keeping a close eye on the girls. He didn’t trust Hope who seemed to keep her distance. Grace, on the other hand, kept moving closer and looked as if she wanted to eat him. He didn’t trust her either.
Hope motioned with her head to her sister for them to split up so Sir Rick couldn’t watch them both. But Grace wasn’t looking at Hope, so she didn’t see the signal. Instead, she was staring at Sir Rick and that made Hope very nervous.
“Can you show me some of your grandfather’s spell books?” asked Hope, heading over to the wooden shelves on the walls. They were loaded down with leather-bound books, and some of them had etchings on the covers of dragons, ravens, or other mystical creatures. All of them were covered in cobwebs as well as a thick layer of dust.
“My grandfather?” asked Sir Rick.
“Aye. Orrick, the old sorcerer. Or is he your great grandfather?” she asked.
“He’s . . . neither.”
“Then how are you two related?” she asked, never having gotten a direct answer to this question.
“I don’t think Orrick would want anyone looking at his spell books. They are personal,” he said, ignoring her question altogether.
“Then how about these trunks? What is in here?” asked Grace from the other side of the room, opening a trunk and starting to rummage through the contents.
“Close that at once!” Sir Rick hurried across the room to stop her. Hope smiled, knowing her sister was proving to be a worthy accomplice. As soon as Sir Rick turned his back, Hope ran her hands along the bindings of the books, looking for anything that might tell her about the Eternal Flame. She didn’t see anything and was about to turn around when she spotted a small book bound in red leather hiding behind the rest. Standing on her tiptoes and reaching up, she ran her hand over the cover. The etching in the leather looked to her like a torch of some sort with a flame on it.
“Get away from there,” Sir Rick called out, scaring her and making her jump. When she did, several books fell from the shelf to the floor at her feet. “I told you, Orrick doesn’t let anyone see his spell books, so leave them alone.”
When Sir Rick hunkered down to pick up the books, she snatched the small red book and dropped it into the pouch hanging at her side without him noticing.
“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” she told him, looking up and nodding to her sister who was standing near the door. “I think mayhap we’d better leave now. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“It’s all right,” he said, cradling the books in his arms. He stood up and looked down at her and their eyes met. She felt suddenly tongue-tied and her body heated being so close to him. All she could think about was the kiss they’d shared and how she’d like to do it again.
“Sister, are you coming?” asked Grace, holding on to the door, dipping her fingers into her bodice with her other hand, probably pulling it lower to try to catch Sir Rick’s eye.
“Aye,” Hope said, glancing at her sister and then back to Sir Rick. She wet her dry lips with her tongue, having a hard time looking away from the handsome man. “Would it be too bold of me to say we’ll be watching you in the practice yard, Sir Rick?”
“What?” He blinked and shook his head. “Nay, that’s not necessary.”
“Oh, I’d love to see the knights spar,” cooed Grace from across the room. “It intrigues me to watch them holding their long jousting lances and gripping their big, hard swords as they –”
“Goodbye, Sir Rick, we’ll see you later.” Hope hurried to the door and pushed her sister through it, closing the door behind her.
“What’s your hurry, Hope?” asked Grace, brushing off the sleeve of her gown. “I was just starting to have a conversation with that handsome Sir Rick.”
“I know what kind of conversation you were trying to have, and I won’t allow it. Neither will I put up with your antics of pulling your bodice lower to try to attract him.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Don’t lie. I saw you with your hand down your bodice.”
“Oh, you must mean when I took this from the hook on the wall and hid it in my cleavage.” She dipped her fingers into her bodice and proudly held up the iron key to the door.
The corners of Hope’s mouth curved upward into a mischievous smile. “You are good, my dear sister, but I am better.”
“What does that mean?” Grace scowled as she shoved the key back down her bodice again.
Hope dipped her hand into her pouch and pulled out the small, red leather-bound book and held it up in front of her sister. “What does the etching on the cover look like to you?”
“Well, let me see,” said Grace, reaching for the book. But Hope snatched it away from her and shoved it back into her travel bag. “It’s a torch with a flame on it, and I am willing to bet that the contents of this book are going to tell us everything we need to know about the Eternal Flame and perhaps even where to find it.”
“You’re right. You are good,” said Grace with a giggle. “I didn’t even see you palm that.”
“Neither did Sir Rick. And when we return later with the key, we’ll be able to go through his chamber from ceiling to floor and I might just learn to be a sorceress after all.”
With his hand on the door, Orrick listened to the girls whispering on the other side. Too damned bad they didn’t know that sorcerers had very good hearing, even through thick, wooden doors. This skill only improved with age. And with Orrick being as old as he was, he’d become very adept at hearing conversations that were not meant to be overheard.
“Damn,” he swore under his breath, making a fist, ready to pound it against the door. He’d been so distracted with wanting to kiss Hope again, and feeling so randy from Grace’s conversation about lances and hard swords, that he’d been had. He’d never even known they’d stolen not only the key to his door but also the book that told all about the Eternal Flame.
He’d actually forgotten he even had that blasted book and should have gotten rid of it long ago. If so, it would never have the chance of falling into the wrong hands. He’d only kept it so he could give it to the next Keeper of the Flame when he passed on his duty, or so he had hoped. Too bad that was never going to happen.
Because of his wild ways in his younger years and also his stupid decisions, not to mention his pride, he didn’t know who he was supposed to pass the flame to next. And because of this, he was stuck with being the Keeper of the Flame forever. It was a job he’d learned to despise through the years and also one he wished he co
uld pass off to someone else because it had already ruined his life. He was the Keeper of the Flame for all eternity now, and eternity was a very, very long time.
Chapter 5
Orrick had no choice but to show up in the castle’s practice yard since Hope and Grace told him they would be there watching. It had been a hundred years since Orrick had even swung a sword and, honestly, he didn’t even know if he could still do it.
“Orrick,” called out Noah, running after him as Orrick hurried to practice with the other knights. He’d found his sword buried in one of the trunks. It was old and rusty, but still very useable. He’d also found his old clothes. Moths had eaten holes in the tunic and hose so he’d used his magic to make the clothes look new again.
“It’s Sir Rick,” Orrick reminded the boy, not even slowing down or turning around to talk to him.
“Where are you going Sir Rick?” asked Noah.
“I’m headed to the practice yard to spar with the rest of the knights.”
“But you’re not a knight.”
That made Orrick stop in his tracks and turn around. “Noah, you need to keep your voice down,” he said lowly, scanning the crowd of onlookers already settling in the lists to use the knights’ practice as their form of daily entertainment. “You need to pretend. Can you do that for me?”
“Oh, I like games,” squealed the boy, clapping his hands together. “If you’re going to play knight, can I pretend I’m your squire?”
“Sure, I don’t care. Pretend you are whatever you want to be.” He turned back around and headed through the gates, catching the attention of all the knights, squires and pages.
“Who is he?” asked one of the knights, polishing his sword with a rag.
“I’ve never seen him before,” said another.
“He looks familiar, but I just cannot put my finger on who he might be,” said a squire.
“Sir Rick,” Corbett thankfully called out, hurrying over to meet him.
“Lord Corbett,” said Orrick, nervously surveying the other men. These were skilled warriors who could probably take off his head with one swipe of their sword. Good thing this was just practice and they’d be using blunted blades.
“What are you doing here and dressed like that?” Corbett’s eyes scanned down Orrick’s body.
“I made the mistake of saying to the women that I needed to get to the practice yard. Before I knew it, they said they would be here watching me.”
“Over here, Sir Rick!”
He looked over to the lists to see Ladies Hope and Grace sitting right in the front row. He groaned and ran a weary hand through his hair.
“This isn’t good,” said Corbett knowingly.
“It’s worse than you think,” Orrick told him. “The girls tricked me. They distracted me and stole a key to my tower room as well as the book explaining all about the Eternal Flame.”
“What are you going to do about it?” asked Corbett.
“I’m not too worried,” said Orrick. “I can always enchant my door not to open. As for the book – it has a spell on it. It is in code and no one can read it. Or I should say no human without magic can break the code. However, one with magic only has to read the title on the cover out loud and it breaks the spell and then anyone can read the words.”
“Then it’s a good thing Lady Hope doesn’t have magic.”
“Aye, you are right. But like I said, I don’t have to worry about that. She’ll see the gibberish and get discouraged and put the book down.”
Corbett eyed Orrick’s appearance since he was no longer dressed like a sorcerer but, instead, like a knight. “You’re really going to fight today?” asked Corbett in surprise.
“I don’t have a choice. I told the ladies that is what I am doing and I don’t want them to think I’m a liar. Just let me spar with a man or two with a blunted edge and then I’ll leave. I’ll do it just long enough to satisfy the ladies.”
“You don’t understand, Orrick,” said Corbett, leaning in to speak in a mere whisper. “This isn’t a practice with blunted blades today.”
“It’s not?” This surprised Orrick to hear this.
“Nay. It’s an actual competition. There are knights here from several surrounding castles to compete. Sir Irwin and his men are entered to fight as well. These aren’t blunted swords, they’re sharp and dangerous. The weapons are real and it is more than likely that men will get hurt today. I’ve ordered them all not to kill each other, but each man is a worthy opponent.”
“I see. All right, I’ll fight with my sword even though it’s not nearly as sharp as it used to be.”
“Nay,” said Corbett. “You haven’t fought in too long. You are forgetting that this is dangerous. Like I said . . . men will be hurt today.”
“Nay, you are the one who is forgetting that I cannot be hurt, Lord Corbett. Or at least, not physically anyway. Neither can I be killed. I assure you, there is nothing to worry about.”
“But I’ve never even seen you fight, Orrick.” Corbett narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. “Are you any good?”
Just that question sparked something inside Orrick and now he wanted to prove just how good he used to be. “Bring on my opponent and you’ll see how well I fight.”
“Mayhap you’d better watch for a while first,” suggested Corbett.
“Did I hear you say you wanted an opponent?” Lord Irwin approached them with two of his soldiers at his side. He gripped the hilt of his sword in his hand, unsheathing his weapon with the sound of sliding metal. “I’m ready to fight, and I challenge you, Sir Rick.”
“Sir Rick is my guest,” explained Corbett. “He’s just returned from campaigning overseas and I’m sure he’s tired. Perhaps he should wait and –”
“I accept your challenge.” Orrick slid his sword from his sheath, staring Lord Irwin in the eye.
“That is a mighty look of challenge if I ever saw one,” said Sir Irwin with a chuckle.
“Sir Rick, you’re not on the king’s battlefield,” Corbett reminded him as a subtle way of saying don’t hurt anyone.
“Nay, I’m not,” said Orrick, feeling his blood pumping through his veins in vengeance. He hated Sir Irwin, even though he didn’t know why. But just thinking that this is the man who was going to marry Lady Hope was enough reason for Orrick not to like him. “If I were on the battlefield, I’d at least be challenged. This, my lord, will be like sparring with a child.”
“Who are you calling a child?” growled Sir Irwin.
“You heard me,” said Orrick, not sure why he was acting this way. It was his younger self and his arrogant attitude once again rising to the surface. He couldn’t stop it from happening. All the years of being trapped in the body of an old man and repressing his feelings was daunting. This was like releasing a dam and watching the water flow. He couldn’t stop now if he tried. This was something he had to do. Now, with his youth back, it gave him a second chance. That, in and of itself, made life finally worth living.
* * *
Hope sat in the lists, but her attention wasn’t on the men in the practice yard and what they were doing. Nay, her focus was on the book that she had stolen from Orrick’s chamber that she now held in front of her with two hands.
“Put that book away,” scolded her sister. “The men are about to start the competition.”
“This is fascinating,” she mumbled to her sister, mindlessly running her palm over the red leather cover. But before she even had a chance to open it, Sir Irwin approached them at the lists.
“Lady Hope, I hope you are watching,” said Irwin, leaning forward on the wooden railing. “I’m about to strike down that pompous Sir Rick and put him in his place.”
“Sir Rick?” she mumbled, quickly dropping the book back into her bag and getting to her feet. She spied the handsome man across the field. He was talking to Lord Corbett and holding his sword in his hand. “You two are sparring?” she asked, suddenly feeling concern for Rick.
“Sparring?
Nay, we’re fighting and he’s about to land flat on his back.” Sir Irwin and his two soldiers that followed him everywhere started laughing.
“Oh, do be careful,” she told Irwin, meaning not to hurt Sir Rick, but the man thought she meant him.
“You, my dear, are too funny. I don’t need to be careful, but that louse, Sir Rick, better watch out because I’m about to take off his head.” He reached out and grabbed her roughly by the chin, leaning over the lists toward her. “Come here, my betrothed, and give me a kiss for luck.” Smashing his mouth against hers, he kissed her roughly, tasting like garlic and whisky.
When he turned and left, she wiped off her mouth with the back of her hand and mumbled quietly. “Hopefully a kiss for bad luck,” she said, and her sister heard her.
“Sister, did you notice Sir Rick staring at us? I bet you’d like to give him a kiss for luck.” She giggled, wiggling her fingers at Sir Rick.
“We need to find the Eternal Flame as quickly as possible,” said Hope, wiping her mouth off once again. “Because if I have to marry Sir Irwin, I think I would rather be dead.”
* * *
It actually felt good to have a sword in his hand again, but Orrick didn’t like what he was seeing. Sir Irwin just kissed Lady Hope, and it didn’t sit well with him. He realized the girl was betrothed to the man, but he didn’t want her to marry Lord Irwin. Something about the man bothered Orrick. He didn’t like him and would do whatever he could to stop him from marrying Hope.
“Are you ready, old man?” Lord Irwin called out, taking Orrick by surprise. For a second, he almost thought the man knew about his secret identity. Why else would he call Orrick old? But then, with Irwin’s next comment, Orrick figured he was just imagining things.
“You move so slow that even that old sorcerer could probably fight you and win. Now lift your blade and let’s get on with this.”
“Are you sure you really want to do this?” Corbett asked in a low voice from behind Orrick.
Keeper of the Flame: Second in Command Series - Orrick Page 5