Raven’s Rise

by Cole, Elizabeth

  “Henry is just ten years old now, and we’re going to fetch him from his foster family. I wish you could meet him. But you can’t do that if you die in some foolish duel of honor. Understand?”

  The boy nodded, his big eyes locked on Angelet’s face. Rafe guessed that he’d agree to practically anything she asked by this point.

  She looked about. “Surely you didn’t run after us?”

  “I hid my pony in the woods,” he said, pointing to the left side of the road.

  “Then retrieve him and let’s get moving again. We have a long way to go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “We’ll discuss that on the way,” Rafe said, still not trusting the boy.

  While Goswin left to fetch his hidden horse, Angelet said to Rafe, “It’s all right if we keep him close, isn’t it? Better to know where he is.”

  That was true. Rafe said, “He can come along for a while. I certainly don’t want him wandering around, telling anyone who asks that he’s seen us.”

  Angelet smiled, pleased at his agreement.

  They continued on, now with the addition of Goswin. Angelet, fortunately, seemed to have a knack for handling the boy. She suggested he ride ahead a little in order to scout out any potential dangers. “Would you do that for me?” she asked.

  Of course the boy would. He was already urging his horse faster before Angelet got the whole request out.

  “Stay in sight!” she called out after him.

  “Why did you do that?” Rafe asked.

  “Children like to be given responsibility…and that boy needs to feel useful, considering his bold quest for vengeance just got thwarted.”

  “You’ve gained yourself a disciple,” Rafe said. “Goswin looks at you as if you’re the sun.”

  She smiled sadly. “He’s lonely. He lost the family he had left, and now he clings to the first kindness someone offers. He’ll heal in time. Children are very hardy. They can endure so much more than we think.”

  Rafe wondered if she was speaking of her own childhood, so abruptly ended with an early marriage and motherhood.

  “You let him think we’re married,” he said next.

  “It seemed simpler,” she replied. “He has enough on his mind. If ever we need to explain the true situation to him, we can. But why complicate things further?”

  Why indeed, especially because the current misunderstanding meant that Goswin wouldn’t raise any questions about Rafe staying with Angelet every night. Which he definitely intended to do.

  Assuming that she still wanted Rafe near her. Depending on how much she overheard, she might want to keep him at arm’s length.

  “About what he said…” Rafe began.

  “Don’t let it concern you,” said Angelet. “He was devastated by the loss of his brother, and he looked for someone to blame.”

  “I was to blame.” Rafe had given the young man some money, and the young man was promptly killed for those same coins. Even when Rafe tried to do good, it ended badly.

  “You were not! It’s just like the attack on the cortège. The only ones to blame were those who snuck up on unsuspecting people with the intent to murder them. It’s not as if you’ve ever tried to kill a man for the purpose of taking what was his!”

  Rafe winced. Angelet’s blithe reassurance did nothing for him, because it hovered too close to the truth. If she ever found out what he did, all her confidence in him would evaporate.

  “It doesn’t matter. Goswin will think what he likes,” Rafe muttered.

  “He’ll come around once he gets to know you,” she said. “You’ll be a good example for him.”

  “What a terrible idea.” Rafe was a good example for no one.

  “Oh, I just had another idea. Goswin should be your page.”

  “What?”

  “You need one,” she insisted. “You do the work of a page in addition to your own, and there’s no reason for it. Why else do you have to pay stable boys to watch over your armor and such? Teach Goswin what he needs to know.”

  Rafe sighed. “This is an order, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a gentle recommendation,” said Angelet, with the pleased smile of a person who has just won an argument.

  “All right, I’ll teach him what a page does, though he’s only going to be around until I can find a safe place to drop him off. But no more arranging people’s lives, my lady. We’ve got enough to worry about.”

  She nodded, satisfied. Rafe almost laughed out loud in spite of himself. For someone who was never in a position of power, Angelet showed a natural aptitude for it. She had a dignity and grace that attracted attention, and she knew just how to wield her influence.

  If only he was the sort of man Angelet thought he was. Rafe would disappoint her in the end, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. In fact, he wasn’t looking forward to the day he’d have to leave her. But it would come soon enough, and if he was lucky, it would happen before she knew the facts of his true nature.

  As they traveled onward, Rafe realized he had another, more practical problem. Somehow, though he’d been aiming to go directly south, they’d been forced somewhat to the southwest, and now they weren’t just skirting the edge of Shropshire…they were well inside the northern borders of the shire. Exactly what he didn’t want. It was as if his inner demons drew him along all the roads he meant to avoid.

  Still, if they traveled quickly and kept to themselves, it was a manageable problem. Perhaps Goswin could even be useful here.

  They came to another village in the late afternoon, called Dunfield. Rafe knew the name, though it was far enough from Cleobury that he had never come this way, and no one would know him by sight. He hoped.

  Once they rode into the courtyard of the large inn, Rafe quickly made arrangements for a night’s room and board. Then he returned to where Angelet and Goswin waited. The two were deep in conversation, and a casual observer would mistake them for mother and son.

  “Goswin,” he called. “Come here.”

  “What do you want?” The boy sounded sullen, but he walked over.

  “Listen, after you get your supper, you’re to sleep in the stables. There’s a loft for the inn’s stable boys, with extra pallets for the pages of guests. I’ve paid for it already—don’t let any of the boys try to make more coin off you.”

  “Aye.”

  “You’re to feed and water the horses, and keep watch. Get the horses ready early. I want to leave here at first light.”

  “Anything else?”

  Rafe rubbed at his jaw. “If you see anyone near our horses, or asking after us, or if anyone just gives you a bad feeling, come find me.”

  “I’m not the only one who was following you?”

  “Evidently not. And at least one person has shot at Lady Angelet, so I’d rather not run into them again.”

  Goswin’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll watch,” he vowed.

  They ate, then Angelet went upstairs to the guest room while Rafe went out to the stables to see that Goswin knew what he was doing. When Rafe returned to the room, he stopped short in the doorway.

  Laid carefully across the bed was a length of cloth, so dense with color and pattern that it was like looking through a window at a real scene. Except this scene was not anything he’d ever seen before.

  “What is this?” he asked, approaching it.

  Angelet, who’d been folding some clothing in the corner, said, “It’s the altar cloth I embroidered for Basingwerke Abbey. I had it packed in my own bag, and just remembered it. Do you think I could sell it for passage for a few people across the channel, and your horse as well?”

  “You could sell it for a small ship of your own,” Rafe said. He’d been in many churches over his life, but he couldn’t recall seeing something as detailed and as rich as this art. He knew nothing about needlework, but he did know that this was unique in design.

  A city in ivory and gold stood at the center, surrounded by fields of spectacularly intricate flowers and green p
lants. The whole thing seemed to invite him to walk directly into it, to walk up to the gates of this magnificent city.

  “Where is this place?”

  “Nowhere. Not in the world, that is. I saw this in one of my visions. It was so clear that for months afterward, I could close my eyes and remember the exact scene. I tried to imitate it as closely as I could, but it’s still not what I saw.”

  “This is amazing.”

  She gave a little shrug of her shoulder. “It’s cloth and thread. Nothing more.”

  “It’s your vision.”

  “I’d happily forgo all future visions if it meant I wouldn’t suffer the aftermath. You saw what it did to me at Dryton. And that one wasn’t nearly as powerful as some previous experiences. I fear I’m not made to be a vessel for divine revelation. It will break me at some point.”

  Rafe looked over at her, concerned. “Is it getting worse?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, though the possibility obviously scared her. “Both the visions and the pain afterward varies. And I never know when one will strike. The promise was that at Basingwerke, I might be healed.”

  Rafe looked back to the cloth. If he ran an institution like an abbey, he’d promise nearly anything to gain such a skilled artist, especially one who couldn’t leave.

  He ran his hand along the edge of the cloth. “How long did it take you to do this?”

  “Mmmm, a few months, all told. I had a lot of time on my hands at Dryton. Just imagine what I had to look forward to if I’d made it to Basingwerke.” She shook her head. “What a legacy. Here lies Sister Angelet. She could embroider with rare skill. How inane.”

  Rafe got a sudden inspiration. “If you desired a new skill, I could teach you to fight.”

  She laughed. “Impossible.”

  “Why? What’s a dagger or sword but a piece of thin metal with a point at the end? If you know how to wield a needle, you could learn to wield a sword.” He smiled, thinking of the image.

  “I don’t attack the cloth as if it were my enemy.”

  Rafe grew serious. “No, but you do have some enemies. Even today, when I had to leave you alone for a few minutes, wouldn’t you have felt better if you knew how to defend yourself, at least?”

  “It would take far too long to teach me.” Angelet’s expression had grown speculative, though. She was interested in the idea.

  “To master any skill takes a long time,” Rafe agreed. “But there are a few tricks that anyone can learn. With knowledge and a bit of practice, you could surprise someone.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are we still discussing swordplay?”

  Now he laughed. “It wasn’t meant to be an innuendo. Though now that you mention it…” He leaned over to taste her lips. “You have surprised me.”

  She kissed him back, but then said, “Could you teach me to defend myself? I have a dagger, but I’ve never used it for anything but slicing meat.”

  “I’ll teach you, starting tonight. Now.”

  Chapter 20

  Hearing Rafe’s words, Angelet got a little nervous. “Right now? In this room?”

  “Why not? When Dobson tried to attack you, it was in a room this size. There’s more than enough space to learn how to use a dagger.”

  She quickly folded the altar cloth back up, then retrieved her dagger from her pack. She’d used it at supper, though it was also her only weapon.

  Rafe took one look and told her to put it back. “Your little knife will serve you perfectly well at table, but for this, think seriously.”

  The dagger he handed to her was longer than her own, about a foot in length, but not much wider. It rested in a scabbard of boiled black leather, shiny with wear.

  “But this is yours,” she said.

  “It’s a purely supplemental weapon for me. You need it more than I do at the moment.”

  She withdrew the blade, and it gleamed silvery in the dull light of the room. The hilt was also metal, but wrapped in soft leather so it was easy to grip. The crosspiece was minimal, barely extending past her curved fingers. It was a beautiful weapon, and the point was deadly sharp.

  Rafe said, “It’s intended to pierce through your opponent, whether that means clothes or flesh. So you need to point it at them and thrust forward, not swing and slash sideways. Understand?”

  She held the dagger out and made an experimental lunge toward the closed door, pretending someone stood there. “Yes, I think so.”

  “You can use the side of the dagger blade to block a blade coming at you,” he said, “but that takes practice, and perhaps more arm strength than you have. So let’s concentrate on the dagger’s use as an attack.”

  Rafe moved next to her and squared her shoulders with his hands. Despite how close he was, Angelet sensed that he was now totally focused on teaching her to fight.

  “You can draw it and hide the blade in the folds of your skirt, like this.” He put his hand on hers and pulled it down to her thigh, where she held the blade, tip pointing at the floor. He stepped around to the other side and squinted. “Good. I can barely see it. So if you’re nervous, you can draw a bit early and hold it there.”

  “But eventually I’ll need to use it.”

  “Very true.” He held his dagger out now. “Let’s say someone threatens you like this.” He approached quickly, swinging the blade up to hover in front of her chin.

  Angelet instinctively took several steps back, and promptly ran into the wall behind her. “Oh, bother.”

  “It’s natural to want to run,” he said, dropping his blade and extending a hand to help steady her. “God knows, if running is an option, you should take it. But let’s say you are backed against a wall, as you are now. When someone comes at you like so”—he resumed his previous stance—“you need to go on the attack immediately, or it’s over. He’ll slam you against the wall and you’ll have nowhere to go.”

  That sounded horrible. “So how do I attack?” she asked.

  “Like this.” He shifted again, moving to stand beside her, showing her how to stand. “See where my feet are, staggered? Do that.”

  She did her best to imitate his moves.

  “Good,” said Rafe. “Now, move forward with your shoulder leading…good…and lunge with your arm out…straighten your elbow! You’re not offering someone a drink, you’re defending your life. Very good.”

  After performing the same series of steps he’d done, Angelet gripped the hilt of her dagger tightly. “It’s not very good if I’m only fighting an imaginary foe.”

  “You’re going to fight me.” Rafe moved once again, blocking her path to the door. He raised his dagger. “Try to get past me.”

  “Are you sure of this?” she asked. “What if I make a mistake and hurt you?”

  “If you hurt me, darling, it’s proof I never should have been knighted in the first place. But I’ll risk it. Now stop dallying and try to get past me.”

  She took a deep breath, then lunged at him, just as he first instructed.

  A second later, her dagger clattered to the floor and she was caught in his arms, her back pressed against his chest. She gasped. She couldn’t even wriggle out of his embrace.

  “Do you understand what happened?” he asked.

  “No! What did you do? What did I do wrong?”

  “You hesitated,” Rafe explained. “I suspect that you didn’t want to perforate my liver, which is extremely flattering, but not helpful. You need to think of me as an enemy.” He released her and stooped to pick up the dagger, handing it to her. “Now, step back and we’ll try it again. As soon as I say, you need to move fast. Don’t think about me at all, don’t worry about my health. Just go.”

  “All right.” Angelet closed her eyes, trying to picture an enemy in front of her, instead of Rafe himself. She envisioned Dobson. “I’m ready,” she said, opening her eyes.

  “Go.”

  This time she kept the image of Dobson in her mind, and tried to go faster. She lunged forward with her arm held straight. A seco
nd later, Rafe grabbed her arm in a defensive move, keeping her from attacking again.

  “Well done,” he said.

  “But I didn’t do…” She then saw that she had done something. Her dagger pierced his cloth tunic, leaving a ragged hole.

  “Oh, sweet mercy,” she gasped, putting her free hand to her mouth.

  Rafe grinned at her. “That was perfect.”

  “I nearly stabbed you!”

  “Yes. That was your objective.”

  “But…your clothing! I’ll mend it,” she added. “I can, you know.”

  “I have every confidence in you,” Rafe said. “But don’t try to change the subject. We’re not done yet.”

  “Surely you don’t want me to come at you again?”

  “You did it once, very well. But you need to practice. You need to be confident and know how to move without stopping to think about it. Now try again.”

  She did. Time after time she lunged toward Rafe, and time after time she got a little better at the move. Granted, Rafe was far, far more experienced than she was, so his reflexes and training meant he was in no actual danger, despite the fact that she had assaulted his tunic once. He admitted he didn’t expect her to be so accurate so quickly, and thus had been a little slack. She never managed to strike him again.

  On the most recent attempt, Rafe stopped her in mid-stride to show her that she was instinctively shying away from a direct attack.

  “Keep your shoulder up, and don’t veer away. That leaves you less able to defend yourself. Remember how your body moves. Remember this pose. That’s what you need to be able to do almost without thinking. Try again.”

  She did.

  He caught her arm and swung her close to his body, effectively entrapping her. “Very good, but never lose your balance. You leaned too far forward and I was able to take advantage of that. Understand?”

  “You keep saying very good,” she said, “but you keep winning.”

  “Darling, I’ve made this my profession for years. You started tonight. What else do you expect?”

  “I hoped I’d be a better student.”