Melancholy tainted his thoughts. He wasn’t eager to return.
Light harp strings plucked from the back of the wagon as they took the main road through Ebonvale’s orchards and farmlands. Now and then Valoria’s sweet voice would rise and a phrase would waft to their ears: veil of shadow, silent footsteps, and we are but trivial travelers.
“You’d think she’d sleep with such a journey ahead.” Brax glanced over his shoulder.
“She protects us with her enchantments.” Amusement curled Nathaniel’s lips.
Brax gave him a doubtful look. “Two warriors in their prime, protected by a minstrel girl and her harp?”
Nathaniel smiled in a self-deprecating way. Taking the minstrels in meant accepting their ways. “Stranger situations abound.”
* * * *
Morning broke in a blush of red and orange light. A dove began its song with a three melancholy notes. As the mist cleared, the last few farms of Oakendell rose up on either side.
“There.” Brax pointed to an old barn with three cows grazing around it. A small cottage stood on a hillside of white flowers. “That was my father’s farm.”
“Are you certain?” It looked more like a house for an old woman.
Brax nodded. “He took me for a ride one day when I was a boy. I met his brother, Hule, who’d inherited the farm. There’d been some tension between the two of them for years, because my father had made it to the Royal Guard and Hule had been forced to return to the farm. But, he welcomed us without any ill feelings and invited us in for a piece of apple pie. My father wanted me to meet my cousins, but he also wanted me to see that every man is important. Every man, no matter his station in life, has the potential to be great.”
Sorrow stung Nathaniel’s gut, knocking the air out of him. “The king told me that as well.” He smiled sadly, remembering the day Bronford Thoridian promised him a spot in the army. “He was teaching me how to fight with a sword. I was only a boy with a piece of wood shaped like a claymore. I tried to attack him, and he defeated me in one stroke. I was so angry at the world back then. I told him I’d never avenge my family, that they all died and I couldn’t save them.”
Compassion softened Brax’s face. “You were a boy. There was nothing you could do.”
“That did not stop me from feeling guilty.” Nathaniel touched the wood of the seat, bluewood, just like his wooden sword. Where had it gone? He would have loved to hold it one more time. Or place it on the king’s grave when he returned. “He said I could become a warrior and ‘save lots of people.’”
“Lots of people, eh?” Brax smiled.
Nathaniel thought back, remembering the smell of the orchard and the way the sun hit Bron’s face. “He said, ‘All you need is courage and someone to believe in you.’ ‘Who would believe in me?’ I asked. You have to understand that everyone I ever mattered to was dead. The king said he would believe in me, and then he promised me the spot in the Royal Guard.” Tears stung Nathaniel’s eyes. He missed the king as much as he missed his own family.
Brax patted his arm. “He was a good man and he loved you like his own son.”
Immense grief passed through him like a tidal wave. Nathaniel turned to Brax. “You remind me of him so much that I feel as though he sits beside me.”
“It is an honor too vast for me.” Brax shook his head. “He was a greater king than I’ll ever strive to be.”
Helena’s sword, Nathaniel had never seen Brax with that much self-reflection and vulnerability. Even though he understood Brax’s struggle, he could not argue with his faults. Brax didn’t have the late king’s kindness, or his sense of self-sacrifice. But, Brax had the capacity to learn, especially if he accepted his flaws. “The future is not set in stone.”
They sat in silence until they reached the edge of the meadows. Up ahead, dust clouds shifted over the barren earth where the wyverns had burned every living plant and seed. Raiders didn’t chance crossing into Ebonvale’s guarded lands, but this vast southern wasteland was ripe with corruption.
“Better rest now.” Brax pulled to the side of the road and directed the horses behind a copse of white birch. “We’ll need our strength for what’s ahead.”
Nathaniel nodded. “I’ll get some food from our supplies.”
He rounded the wagon and lifted the leather to peer inside.
Valoria sat against the bench on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her and her harp on her stomach. She plucked a note while her eyes fluttered, close to sleep.
“You’re still awake?” Nathaniel climbed in.
She perked up immediately. “Why do you think we’ve traveled without any delay?” Her fingers were red. She must have played all night.
Nathaniel knew better than to argue. “Must have been your excellent playing.”
“I’d like to think it had a part to play and my voice isn’t hoarse for nothing.” Valoria stood and brushed hay off her tunic. “Thank you for standing up for me.” She had a few strands in her hair, and he resisted the urge to pull them out.
Nathaniel picked up a bag of supplies to keep his hands busy. “I do not know what you are referring to.”
“You spoke up when Brax doubted taking me with you.”
How could she have heard in the back? He studied her with suspicion. How much of their conversation had she picked up? “Minstrels have excellent ears.”
She placed her harp on the bench. “You would do well not to forget it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He hefted the bag over his shoulder and lifted the leather covering. Valoria slipped underneath his arm, her hair brushing his chest as she jumped down.
They joined Brax on a rock outcropping beside the wagon. Nathaniel handed him a heel of bread and a wedge of cheese with an apologetic smile. “It’s not what you’re used to.” He’d been on the road a lot as a boy, but the prince had never traveled far from the castle.
“I’ll manage.” Brax bit a chunk off the cheese and swallowed it down with a draft from his sheepskin. He nodded to Valoria but said nothing.
Valoria sat three rocks apart from him. She took her own bread and cheese from the bag. “Such a lovely night.” She broke off a piece of cheese. “Sometimes I’d go out with my father and we’d watch for falling stars.”
Nathaniel waited for Brax to respond, but he shoved bread in his mouth as if he were a starved beggar in the streets. Would he leave Valoria’s comment unanswered? Nathaniel took up the thread of conversation. “My father took me stargazing as well—my real father, I mean.” He gave Brax a meaningful glance, not wanting to speak of the king in such a familiar manner with a guest, even if she would be in their family soon.
“How about you, my prince? Ever gaze at the stars?” Valoria leaned over. She’d stopped eating, studying Brax as if he were a riddle she could not solve.
Brax took a swig from his sheepskin. “I do not have time for such frivolities.”
She glanced down as if he’d slapped her. “I see.”
Brax’s slight to Valoria made Nathaniel’s chest pang. He squeezed his hand into a fist, then released his fingers. “What were you singing of?”
“Songs to protect us, ward off danger, and make us seem uninteresting to passersby.” Valoria ripped off a piece of bread and tasted it with a sullen face.
Was she sullen because of Brax’s disinterest in conversation, or because she didn’t like the bread? Nathaniel felt compelled to cheer her spirits. “Powerful songs, indeed.”
Brax stood. “I must see to the horses.”
“You do not want dessert?” Valoria stood as well, offering a small parcel. “I brought fig cakes from the best baker in the House of Song.”
Nathaniel gave Brax an emphatic look. He never turned down food.
“I have no taste for figs.” Without looking back, the prince disappeared on the other side of the carriage where he’d tied the horses.
Valoria stuffed the parcel in her backpack. Her s
houlders sagged as if she were defeated.
Nathaniel didn’t know which move was worse: to console her by trying a fig and strengthen the already compelling bond between them, or to leave her be. With all of his comments so far, it was better not to tempt fate.
“For your benefit, I’ve never seen him eat a fig.”
She smiled and then covered her mouth as if she shouldn’t make fun. “I had hoped it would be easier to speak to one another without the formality of the castle.”
’Twas always easy for Nathaniel to speak with her. He longed to put his arm around her and comfort her. The fault was not hers. Brax did not share a love of the stars, or desserts. Or beautiful princesses, from the looks of it.
The late king’s face flashed in his memory. Promise me, when I am gone, you will look after him and steer him on the right course when he falters.
Nathaniel clenched his hands into fists, breathing hard as he reined in his feelings. If he wasn’t careful, someday they’d grow too large to control, and he could never let that happen. Not if he wanted to keep his promise. “Brax is a man of few words. Give him time.”
Chapter 16
Barren Ground
“Hey, there! Help an old man on the side of the road?”
“We cannot leave him.”
“What if he recognizes one of us? What if it’s a trap?”
“There’s no chance a farmer’s ever been to the castle, never mind seen me up close.”
Valoria awoke to voices. She jerked upright as panic strangled her throat. How long had she been asleep? She reached for her harp and grasped thin air. Lyric’s broken string! Staying up all night to ensure their safety must have caught up with her. And now they’d paid the price.
Someone on the road had noticed them.
Relief coursed through her as she found her harp in the hay by her feet. Clutching the instrument to her stomach, she waited, listening.
The wagon slowed and stopped. Had both men lost their minds? What if they were recognized this close to the castle?
“Can we be of aid, sir?” That was Nathaniel’s voice.
Valoria peeked out the leather in the back. The sun was on the verge of setting across a land of bare, blackened trees. She must have slept all day. At least they weren’t near Ebonvale’s borders any longer. The risk of being recognized wasn’t as great as she thought.
“Raiders stole my bags and my horse. I need transportation to the nearest village.” The voice had the grittiness of an old man’s.
“Where are you from, sir?” Nathaniel’s voice grew softer as if he’d jumped from the wagon to approach the old man.
“New Shaletown. I was on my way to help my son. He’s moved up north to work on a farm. Doesn’t like the barren ground.” The old man sounded sincere, however far-fetched the story was. Yet, Valoria picked up a slight rise in his voice at odd intervals. Anxiety crept up her spine. Knowing Nathaniel, he wouldn’t deny someone in need.
“We’re traveling south.” Brax barked.
For once, Valoria appreciated his shortness.
“I’ll go anywhere. Just don’t leave me here.” The man pleaded. “I have a bad leg, and I won’t be able to walk far.”
“Come with us.” Nathaniel’s voice softened. “Either we’ll pass another party going north, or we can take you back to Shaletown. I mean, New Shaletown, and you can find another horse.”
“Mar’s the name. Old man Mar.”
A grunt followed, like someone hefting another person into the front of the wagon.
“I’m Blue. This here’s my brother, Axel. Our sister, Val, is in the back.”
Valoria bit her lip to keep from smiling. Nathaniel had chosen Blue like his last name, Blueborough. Axel had some of the letters of Brax, and Val was what her mother had called her. Very fitting, but an odd bunch of names put together. Hopefully, Mar had an odd enough name not to question theirs.
Brax shouted to the horses with his rumbling bass voice, and the wagon began to move.
“You moving down south?” Old man Mar picked up his voice to speak over the din of the horses’ hooves and creaking wheels.
“We are.” Nathaniel sounded young and hopeful, just like someone trying to make a new life. “Work on the farm has dried up.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” The old man coughed. “’Tis a hard world we live in now, nothing like the peacefulness of my youth, back when wyverns were just a fireside tale.” Fabric rustled and the bench creaked as if he shifted in his seat, maybe glancing backward at the wagon. “Brought everything down with you?”
The question was odd in an abrupt sort of way. Why did he need to know what they carried in the back? Valoria pursed her lips. Perhaps she was being overly cautious. He was an old man, not a warrior with a sword.
“Everything we own, which isn’t much.” Nathaniel’s answer was clever. Valoria’s mother had told her never to admit having anything of value to a stranger, even if he was an old man.
“Some provisions for the road?” For an old man, Mar was inquisitive.
“If you’re hungry, I have a heel of bread in my pocket.” Nathaniel answered.
“Thank you much, Blue. Your brother doesn’t talk much, does he? Look at those arms—thick as tree trunks. Has he had warrior training?”
Valoria tilted her head. An underlying anxiousness and eagerness had crept into Mar’s tone, and it wasn’t from being robbed. This man was hungry, but not for a heel of bread.
She picked up her harp, took a deep breath, and strummed a unique chord.
“Honesty is key
In a world where truth is veiled.
Loosen your tongue
So I can see
The fact from the tale.”
“Val loves her music.” Nathaniel laughed nervously. He may have thought Valoria would give them away, but they’d done enough of that themselves. She continued stroking the chords, building the dissonance until it could not be ignored.
“I am tired of this ceaseless banter.” Brax growled. “Small talk makes my feet itch in my boots.”
“Must you always be so impertinent?” Nathaniel chastised. “Sometimes I think you have no polite words in your thick head.”
Valoria smiled and kept strumming. If only her sense of morality would allow her this opportunity every day.
“And you have no simplicity. You prattle on and on, tying your words into tapestries of riddles. You might as well be a minstrel.” Frustration lined Brax’s voice.
Valoria plucked an angry note, almost breaking her spell. Wincing, she returned to her chords of truth.
“How do you ever expect to marry one if you cannot stand their ‘tapestries of riddles’?” Nathaniel shot back.
“My marriage is none of your concern. I cannot even concern myself with it at present, nor do I wish to.” Brax’s voice rose with each word.
Nor does he wish to? Valoria’s chest panged.
“Go on, go on. All I have to do is keep you two distracted for another two miles.” Old man Mar interrupted just when the conversation was turning interesting.
“And why is that?” Nathaniel changed his tone to one of intrigue.
“For the ambush.”
“Whoa!” Brax must have pulled on the reins, because the wagon veered to the right and halted abruptly.
Valoria stopped playing and steadied herself against the forward pull of momentum. Quickly, she picked up her chords where she’d fallen off.
“And who is going to ambush us?” Brax growled. Fabric rustled and boards creaked as the old man cried out. Valoria bet Brax had the man’s throat in his hands.
“My band.” The old man’s voice turned fearful.
“Who is their leader?”
“Gibson.” He cried. “Gibson the great. He’s going to bring prosperity back to these lands.”
“Prosperity?” Nathaniel sounded dumbfounded. “More like murder and crime.”
Valoria put her harp
down and pushed her head through the leather. Hot, dry air stung her face. A flurry of wind threw ash and soot in her eyes. She’d heard stories about the ravaged country in the south, but to stand in the middle of it sucked her lungs dry. Now she understood why so many people turned to raiding. Who could find hope in so much death?
As expected, Brax held the man by his throat. The old man’s face turned red, and spittle drooled down his chin.
“Do not interfere, sister,” Brax scolded her. “We have matters under control.”
“Do you?” She strummed three distinct notes, each one higher in pitch.
Nathaniel winced, and Brax brought his hand to his forehead. The old man’s eyes rolled into his head and his body slackened. Brax removed his hand, and shock lit his face as he laid old man Mar down on the bench.
“Did you kill him?” Nathaniel gawked.
“Of course not.” Valoria placed her hands on her hips. “I suppose you think he spoke the truth of his own accord.”
Brax blinked in astonishment and eyed her defensively. “You cast a spell on us. Back when we were talking, and again just now.”
“I had to. You accepted a spy as a friend.”
“Not I.” Brax crossed his thick arms across his chest. “I would have left the scoundrel on the side of the road. Nathaniel gave in to his cause.”
Nathaniel frowned, studying the old man. “He looked so helpless, how could I leave him?”
Valoria touched Nathaniel’s arm. “If we had left him on the side of the road, we’d have no knowledge of this impending ambush. You were right to help him.”
“But, what will we do with him now?” Nathaniel scanned the area. “We can’t bring him back to Ebonvale to stand trial.”
Brax unsheathed his sword. “We cannot let him live. He knows too much.”
“Hold on.” Nathaniel commanded as he raised his hand.
Valoria pushed by Brax and positioned herself in front of Mar. “He will not remember this when he wakes.”
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