King Callie: Callie's Saga, Book One

by B Lynch

  She waited, and held Darryn up; it was some time since she’d been so close to a man’s body, cheating the terms of her engagement and stealing kisses from Iaen. She could smell his musk, the essence of him, and to feel him next to her - much as she wouldn’t admit it to him, she enjoyed it. Even more so that he needed her, despite his foolishness in the forest… that frustrated her so much, but at least now, she could get him back to the castle, and to the barracks more directly. That, too, was risky, but he could manage that himself.

  “We move after the first guard passes us,” she said. “Just on the side of that wall, there’s a passage. We’ll have some time to get across the field, and from there, we shall need to crawl.”

  “That, I can manage,” Darryn said, rubbing his chin. “It’s crossing the field that worries me. You should do it by yourself. I can manage out here. It’ll just take me some time.”

  “Absolutely not,” Caliandra said. “You’re injured. I can’t let you do that to yourself, you might be the worse for it.”

  “Beautiful and intelligent, with a martyr’s heart,” Darryn said, with a smirk.

  “If you have a better plan, please, share it,” Caliandra said.

  “Not in the least,” Darryn replied. “I’m wary of the guards on the corners, but your plan’ll have to do.” His head tilted up, as he looked along the wall. “They’re about to pass.” Caliandra braced herself; she did not enjoy the prospect of running across a field with any man hobbling alongside her. But if she didn’t, there would be no means of safely getting both of them across the field.

  “Ready yourself,” Caliandra said. She felt him lean over, slightly, and his muscles tensed. Then, she started to run.

  She did not run as fast as she could; she slowed her pace, so that Darryn could keep up, with his long hops. She breathed quickly and heavily - in, out, in, out - as her legs pumped, each patch of grass a new challenge beneath her feet. She counted the seconds. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. They were almost halfway to the wall when she stumbled over an uneven patch of ground, and Darryn fell forward, taking her with him. The panic rushed through her nerves; surely, the guards heard them.

  “Piss,” she muttered, as she helped Darryn up, and brought his arm back over her shoulder. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

  “He just passed the corner guard,” Darryn said. “Are you sure you timed them properly?”

  “I -” Caliandra stopped. She thought she had. “Nevermind,” she said, as she built up speed again; Darryn hopped alongside, as best he could. She saw the loose stone of the passage ahead, jutting out slightly in the dark - right where she had left it. Her breathing became more ragged, and her body felt taxed. I must push on, she thought; I only need to keep the pace until we reach the wall.

  She glanced up, at the men on the corners. They still looked to the far walls, but one seemed to be looking downward, almost towards them. It was then that Caliandra heard the shouts from the forest.

  “I guess they woke up,” Darryn said. Caliandra ran harder still; the guards would be distracted, and looking far from where they were. She was very short of breath by the time they reached the wall, and stopped to breathe. Darryn went ahead, and began to pull the stone aside.

  “I suppose this is how Royth escaped,” Darryn said, as he wrested the stone free. “It’s not far from the dungeon, after all.”

  “Yes,” Caliandra said. “I’ve found others, throughout the castle; I imagine that someone from the Nest would’ve taken the time to learn its secrets.” She gestured to the tunnel. “After you.”

  “Ladies first,” Darryn replied.

  “Absolutely not,” Caliandra said. “You’ll be seeing things you shouldn’t.”

  “You’ve nothing I haven’t seen before,” Darryn said, with a sly, teasing smile.

  “Go in first,” she said, fuming. “Now.”

  Darryn smirked, and got on his knees. “At least one of us is getting a good view,” he said, as he crawled inside. Caliandra crouched, and waited for him to fully get inside, still taking deep breaths. In the distance, she saw the torches moving through the woods. She backed into the tunnel, and pulled the stone secure behind her, heavy as it was. Then, she began the tedious crawl backwards.

  “How long is this tunnel?” Darryn asked. For someone who hadn’t taken it before, she imagined that it required a great deal of trust that they weren’t crawling straight into a wall.

  “Not far,” she said. “Perhaps sixty feet or so. Crawl straight until you see the flickering of torches behind a stone.”

  “And this comes out right in the buttery?” he asked. “Yom, that’s dangerous knowledge for a soldier to have. I could be sneaking in and out with the King’s bottles all hours of the day.”

  “If you can find others who’ll attest to Marrol’s misdeeds, you’ll have no need to,” Caliandra said. “You’d be an honored guest.”

  “A common soldier at the King’s table,” Darryn said. “I’d like that… And you’d be there, too?”

  “Of course,” Caliandra replied, as she moved her legs backwards, and pushed off with her palms.

  “And if there’s to be drinking to an honored guest,” he said, “There will be dancing, too, won’t there?”

  “Of course,” Caliandra grumbled. “It would be a joyous occasion.” She knew where the conversation was going; she allowed it. After all, she needed his cooperation.

  “So you’ll take a dance with me, then?” Darryn asked.

  “And nothing more than that,” Caliandra said. “A dance.”

  “Oh, come now,” Darryn said, as he stopped. “I’ve injured myself, I’m crawling through this Yom-forsaken tunnel, I risk life and limb to bring a man to justice, and you’ll only give me the honor of a single dance?” She could feel his feet against hers, unmoving; he wouldn’t continue until he’d gotten what he’d wanted, and they would be stuck in the dark confines until she gave in. Not that having multiple dances with Darryn was so horrible a fate.

  “Fine,” Caliandra sighed. “Several dances. Please, move.” With that, Darryn budged, and began to crawl forward again. Caliandra was slightly relieved; she would be more at ease the moment she got back to her room, and was able to tell her mother what had happened… and what Darryn could prove. She would be furious, of course, but the disobedience was worth it.

  “Trust me,” Darryn said, “After that first dance, you’ll be beggin’ me for another.” She felt him stop, and she heard him push the stone out of the way; then she heard him take a breath of admiration. “Yom’s knees,” he said. “I could die a happy man in here.”

  “Don’t touch anything,” she said, as she finally backed out of the tunnel, into the musty torch-lit buttery. It was only when she stood up and turned around that she saw Darryn open a bottle of wine, and take a swig. “Didn’t you listen to me?” she asked, furious. Her body vibrated with tense energy; she felt as if her very being was taught like string pulled tight, and ready to snap at any second. “Touch nothing!”

  “You need a drink,” Darryn said, as he tossed the bottle to her; startled, she reached out, and barely caught it before it fell to the floor. She rushed past him, and attempted to put it back with the others on the oak rack; he caught her by the wrist. “No,” he said. “Trust me. It’ll ease your nerves.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my nerves,” she snapped.

  “Drink,” he said, gentler than before. “And take a breath. You’ve earned both.” He let go of her hand, and leaned himself against the stone wall, on his one good leg. She breathed deeply, twice, and felt herself relax slightly; her heart was still pounding, but the tension had lessened. He’s right, she thought, as she brought the bottle to her lips, and took a hesitant drink. The tart, dark red wine waited for her, and she choked it down; the bitterness was not so bad as if she’d had it with dinner. It was mostly offset by her nerves, and every other sensation of anxiety that flooded her body. After a second drink, she offered the bottle back to Darryn.


  “Thank you,” she muttered.

  “Glad you listened?” he asked, as he took the bottle back, and had a drink. Caliandra nodded. “Good,” he said. “I can get back to the barracks from here, and if anyone asks, they’ll see the bottle and my limp, and that’s all they’ll think of.” She glared at him, and saw the design on the bottle’s front - it was one from the Della Ferra vineyards, her father’s favorite. A rare and special wine, in the hands of a common soldier, posing as a drunk. She wanted to snatch it away from him, and put it back - or finish it herself. But she restrained her hands. After all, his was a good plan.

  “Very well,” she said. “I will leave first.” She caught a glimpse of his eyes again; her mood softened, and she found it difficult to be completely mad with him. And he continued to stare right back, as he drew closer to her, one hop at a time. Darryn took her hand in his, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed the back of it.

  “Good luck,” Darryn said; Caliandra let her hand linger in his. There was something comfortable about him, in spite of the ways in which he infuriated her, and had complicated her plan. Her heart still hammered in her chest, and beat a bit faster; a small blush rose to her face, and she looked downward, trying to hide the beginnings of a smile. She pulled her hand away, but not before squeezing his.

  “Thank you,” she said, as she started for the door. It wouldn’t be far to the stairs, to her left; that would bring her up to the second floor, where she’d easily be able to find her room. Her heart pounded, and she could still taste the wine on her lips. That was when a voice sent a fright up her spine.

  “Lady Caliandra?” A man asked. “What were you doing in the buttery?” She whirled around to see a castle guard, looking her over with confusion. She wagered that the shocked look on his face came from all of the dirt and grass stains on her clothing. “How did you get outside?”

  “I… I snuck out,” she said. “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know what came over me,” Caliandra replied. “My father and brother are dead, my sister’s gone…” She tried her best to think of something sad; it came quickly, but only because the feeling was so fresh. The guard’s suspicion turned quickly to consolation.

  “We’ve got men out looking for you,” the guard said. “After what had happened, we were worried you’d been kidnapped. The Duchess’s worried sick.”

  Caliandra glanced back at the buttery, and back at the guard. “Then take me to my mother,” Caliandra said. “I must ease her worries, promptly.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Sophine heard the knocks at the door in the early morning; with Eliya’s early escape, and Caliandra missing, she dreaded their news. She opened the door with no small measure of trepidation; on the other side, she found stony-faced Kells, his face awash in orange torchlight.

  “This came for you,” he said, as he held out a letter, “From an urgent rider. He asked that it be taken to you immediately.” She snatched it from his hand, and slid her finger under the seal; as she unfolded it, she read the words to herself. Her alertness drastically increased. Dyern, the commander from the White Stags had responded; the better part of her fortune had not gone to waste. His men had found the missing pieces of Peacebringer, and acquired the proof she requested of the thieves involved. “I’ve also been given word that Mas and Eliya have escaped… the first soldiers that Marrol sent after them have returned empty-handed.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful news,” she said, as relief filled her heart. She turned to the note, and read it once more; then, darted past him, into the hall, and held the note to the torch’s flames. Sophine watched the orange flickers swallow up the dim cream of parchment, and when it had become too hot to hold, she dropped it to the floor; there, it crumpled into a jet mass. “Who else knows about the letter?” she asked in a whisper, as she turned to him.

  “Three, maybe four men at the most. But not its contents,” Kells emphasized, dour. “That much, we have in our favor. They sent it by an unmarked messenger, not one bearing their sigil.”

  Sophine thought for a second about her next move. “Arrange for two horses,” she said. “I’ll be traveling to Dunsbrook on the hour.”

  “I’ll arrange for three,” Kells cautioned. “Take two men with you, instead of one. Trustworthy ones.”

  “No,” she said. “I will take Bevi, and two horses. It’ll be an errand, to visit a sick friend in town, and pick up silks from Talwyck. If you send soldiers with me, it will raise suspicions.”

  “Duchess, I can’t agree with this,” Kells protested, “A maid can’t defend you on the road.”

  “Then arrange for someone to meet me at Deckard’s Inn who can. That’s my only concern.” The rapid steps from down the hall drew her attention, and her concern; no one could know what she was planning. She quieted her voice, and turned to the source of the sound. It was a guard, escorting her daughter - who looked harrowed, and from the dirt and grass stains on her clothing, as if she’d been sleeping in the brush. “Caliandra,” Sophine said, surprised, “What happened to you?”

  “Marrol’s behind it all,” Caliandra said. “I met with one of his men.” She saw the look of alarm on Kells’ face, but it was Sophine who was positively enraged. She looked back at Kells. How reckless could Caliandra be, to speak openly about the conspiracy with a guard present?

  “He can be trusted,” Kells said. “He’s one of mine.” All the same, Sophine gestured for the guard to leave; she, Kells, and Caliandra entered her room, and once the door was shut, Sophine unleashed her anger on Caliandra.

  “What the devil is the matter with you?!” Sophine said. “Why would you put yourself in danger like that? Are you hurt?”

  “No, Mother, I’m fine,” Caliandra replied; she waved off Sophine’s concern. “Darryn’s on our side.” It was then that Sophine noticed the empty sheath at Caliandra’s hip, and became more alarmed.

  “Who is Darryn? And why did you brought a dagger?” Sophine hissed. “Where is it? Did you hurt someone?”

  “As a precaution,” Caliandra replied, with a combative tone. “I didn’t need to use it.” She glanced at Kells, who shook his head with disapproval. “It was a calculated risk,” she told him. “And it confirms what we thought - that Marrol hired the Sparrows to kill Royth as a distraction, while he and his men stole the Peacebringer pieces. Darryn was there, and he knows other men who will speak to it. We can prove Marrol was behind it.”

  Kells grimaced as she spoke, and when she finished, he turned his disappointed gaze to her. “We had an agreement,” he said, “You’ve betrayed my confidence, Caliandra.”

  “This is different,” Caliandra replied, looking at Sophine, whose anger had begun to boil at the very phrase different. “You can’t possibly hold that against me now.”

  “What did she do?” Sophine asked Kells.

  “She took one of Valric’s swords yesterday, and tried to go after Royth herself, on horseback,” Kells said. “I told her it was foolish, stupid, and unbefitting a lady, and I had agreed not to tell you, provided she didn’t do anything equally foolish again.”

  “That isn’t fair!” Caliandra protested. “If I hadn’t gone after Royth, the opportunity to speak with Darryn wouldn’t have presented itself - and if I stayed inside, we wouldn’t have the means to arrest him.”

  “You swore to me that you wouldn’t take any more needless risks,” Kells replied, sternly, “And put yourself in danger again. And that’s exactly what you did.” Caliandra seethed at the statement, and while Sophine was even more disappointed in her daughter’s behavior, she took stock of what had been accomplished; with the Peacebringer found, and with concrete proof that Marrol was involved, removing him - and punishing him - was a distinct possibility.

  “Let us quit arguing,” Sophine said. “What’s done is done. I am disappointed, Caliandra, but your actions have given us an advantage we must use.”

  “We can’t use it,” Kells said. “So long as he’s King Regent, he still controls a number of the soldiers, and
there would need to be a majority of Ministers to rescind him.”

  “We don’t need a majority,” Sophine said, “Because he won’t be King much longer. Make the arrangements, Kells. I leave promptly.” Kells departed with rapid footsteps, and with the door shut, Sophine turned to her daughter.

  “Arrangements? What arrangements?” Caliandra asked. She glared at Sophine. “What aren’t you telling me about?”

  “Stay with your friends,” Sophine said. “I can’t involve you in this any further. You’ve put yourself at risk enough today for our cause... It’s my turn.” she said, as the cold night air grazed her form. She pulled the chemise on over her head, and stepped into the dress, one quick leg after the other. With a tug, she raised it up to her chest, and threaded her arms through the short sleeves.

  “Tell me why,” Caliandra demanded.

  “I will,” Sophine said, “First, be useful and lace me.”

  Caliandra sighed. Sophine felt the fabric tighten, and heard the sounds of cloth laces threaded through eye-holes. With small, final tugs, no longer did Sophine’s dress feel slack against her body; she was appropriately covered. “As I told you, I hired men to find the pieces of Peacebringer that had gone missing,” Sophine said, as she found slippers, and fitted them to her feet. “I received word that they have been successfully recovered.”

  Caliandra stepped back. “That’s wonderful news,” she said, delighted. “I’ll take the throne, and Marrol will be deposed for certain.”

  “It could be lies. Just the same as Royth,” Sophine replied, as she turned to face her daughter. “It is possible he said you would be King, just so I would spare his life.” The thought lingered in her mind; if it were the case, that would be disastrous. She had almost a quarter of her fortune staked on the recovery alone… and while it might force him out, Marrol would no doubt retaliate. Success depended on it. “But this is a risk I must take,” Sophine said. “Or I will regret it for the rest of my days.”