Ben’s jaw tightened a little, pausing as the waitress approached, only answering once she left again. “I have served his household since I was a child. I was trained from a young age for that role.” He admitted, though I began to sense his hesitation in answering, as though he wished to keep the details to himself.
I couldn’t help my curiosity, growing more with each answer he gave. “And the beggar boy?” I asked, redirecting the conversation into more comfortable territory, which brought a warm smile to his lips, shoulders relaxing.
He chuckled softly, taking a sip of his ale. “Tam.” He said, an affectionate look appearing briefly. “Sometimes I am in need of an errand boy, or a set of eyes and ears, and a young boy in rags nearly always goes unnoticed.”
I smiled, nodding. “He is able to move about more easily than you, I would imagine, lifting my hand to refer to Ben’s height. He was taller than most men here, which meant he stood out in the crowd. Literally.
Ben nodded slowly and looked around the common room. “Exactly.” he said, his gaze falling to a couple near the bar, though he returned his eyes to mine only a moment later. “So what brought your family to Lund, Lady Carys?” He asked casually, surprising me since I had assumed Rhian told him everything. Ben shook his head, guessing my thoughts and replied. “She said less than you might think, Lady Carys. She preferred to tell me about herself.”
I nodded slowly as my brow furrowed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him of our family’s dishonor, my sense of duty in keeping up appearances causing me to hesitate. I knew he would press until his curiosity was satisfied, so I relented, telling him a little of the story, reserving the details as he had done. “It is a very long story, and one that I would rather not tell, but I will share some. Our family was disgraced and we were forced to start life anew elsewhere.”
That certainly caught his interest and his brows lifted slowly, his curiosity growing. “Oh?” It was only a simple word, but so many questions lay within the two letters. His attention was wholly on me as he took a sip of his ale.
I sighed softly and said, “My father was accused of murdering a man many years ago. He didn’t do it, but his widow caused enough trouble over the years with her accusations and falsified evidence. We became pariahs among the aristocracy and all marital matches that Father was trying to make continued to fall through. Nobody from a good family wished to attach themselves to us.” Perinthas suddenly felt very far away, the life I had there starting to fade like a distant memory, and to my surprise, I didn’t mind that it was.
Ben’s eyes remained fixed on my face, his curiosity fading into thoughtfulness. He was quiet for a moment, then asked. “Why Lundham? I can’t imagine there is much here that would appeal to a noble family from Taurova.”
I snorted softly, shaking my head a little before I sipping a little of my wine.. “The truth? Our wagon wheel broke just outside of town. After paying Rhian’s ransom, we couldn’t afford to have it repaired so we were forced to stay here for over a month on what coin we could muster up as we awaited more from Perinthas. It arrived, but was less than half of what we were expecting and we couldn’t afford to continue our journey, so...Lund is now our home.” He nodded slowly to that, taking another slow sip of his ale as he seemed to consider my story.
“Would you go back to Perinthas?” That question caught me by surprise, though I’m not sure why. It was a natural question to ask, though going back wasn’t an option, so I had never considered if I ever would.
I struggled to answer, silent for several awkward moments before I managed to reply. “No.” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I should say yes, but…” I wasn’t sure how to explain the discontent that I had felt there for a long time. “I...I didn’t belong there.” I admitted, instantly regretting telling him that and quickly looking away. Please don’t ask for my meaning, I don’t know how to explain it. I silently begged, pulling my goblet close to my chest as though it might offer some protection from his onslaught of questions.
His expression was unreadable, and I couldn’t tell if he was thoughtful, amused, or ready to mock me. I took a long sip of my wine, feeling stupid for admitting anything so personal to a man I hardly knew. He looked like he was about to comment, but as the main door creaked open, his jaw tightened and his features grew cold. “It is time for you to go home, Lady Carys.” He said quietly, rising and taking his mug with him.
Bewildered, my brow furrowed at him but the crisp voice I heard behind me told me what I needed to know. “Ben.” Brynmor’s caustic tone was like an icy chill down my spine and I sighed softly, rising and turning around to face my guard. “Bryn, that’s enough.” I scolded him, too tired to have another discussion with him about his increasingly bad attitude. I took one last sip of my wine before grabbing my shoulder wrap, quickly pulling it on so we could leave before Brynmor caused a scene.
Brynmor was not daunted by my tone, grunting. “We’re going home.” I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed at being pulled from my conversation with Ben. You need someone to be human with. Ben’s words from the other day echoed in my ears, and I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed talking to him, though right now I was more embarrassed at having shown a more human side by admitting what I had never told anyone.
Ben smirked slightly, turning his blue-grey eyes to me and elegantly dipped his head in farewell. “Good night, Lady Carys.” His voice was as smooth as the calmest pond, completely unfazed by Brynmor’s vexation, which only served to irritate Bryn more. I suspected Ben did that on purpose just to fan the flame, and it annoyed me. I only sought to keep the peace among everyone, and while Ben got to leave Brynmor to his ire, I had to listen to the guard’s ranting and raving the entire way home.
CHAPTER 28
Brynmor and I reached the cottage, having settled into a stony silence once he realized that I wasn’t listening to his idiotic ranting. I dismounted without Brynmor’s help, my mind already turning to the list of things I wanted to accomplish yet this night. The stable keeper, ever smiling, took the horses while I headed up the steps, Brynmor following closely behind as though he feared letting me out of arm’s reach. It was the sight of a sealed letter tacked onto the door stopping us both in our tracks, both of us blinking in surprise to see the missive.
I groaned as my nose wrinkled slightly, muttering. “What’s that now? A letter from a creditor? Another pitch for an investment opportunity? Maybe beggars are getting literate now.” Brynmor rolled his eyes at me, stepping forward to unceremoniously tug the envelope free of the pin that held it before handing it to me. We had gotten so many letters in the last month from people trying to get their hands on our money, I assumed this was another.
I pulled the parchment out and unfolded it, seeing it wasn’t a letter at all but a cryptic poem, and my heart dropped as I began to read.
The spark of life is born from ashen death,
and the flickering flame shall rise.
The wildfire spreads its wings
Takes flight into the darkened skies.
All shall dread the Scythe's Inferno as
Cities burn and the dead souls weep.
Carried to the worlds beyond, there is
No escape from the Phoenix's keep.
True strength and blood no man can crush,
Until fate demands her death and dark.
The savage blaze fades until only ash remains
to once again give birth to a single spark.
“Well, this is only slightly unnerving.” I muttered under my breath with no small amount of sarcasm. To say I was chilled by the poem was an understatement, and didn’t understand why this note was on our door. Dread, Blood. Death and dark. I shook my head lightly, trying to shed the growing knot in my stomach. Burn. That one word amidst the others stood out like a beacon and with a sick feeling, struggled to comprehend this an unnamed danger.
Brynmor read the note over my shoulder, his frown deepening. “What the…” He squinted, ti
lting his head down to read it again. “Cities burn and the dead souls weep? What is that supposed to mean? What is this?” He asked grimly. He sounded angry, but I knew it wasn’t anger as much as he was rattled by this discovery.
“I don’t know.” I whispered, my stomach churning as I folded the note back up, having an eerie sense of familiarity with this passage, though for the life of me, I couldn’t recall ever reading it before. “Go and ask the others at the staff quarters and see if anyone saw who may have put this on the door, or strangers in the yard...” I instructed Bryn. “I am going to talk to my family about this. Maybe Father knows who might have written this.” I had no idea why I thought Father would know...perhaps I still held to the childlike belief that my Father knew everything.
He nodded to me and silently headed straight back down the steps, following the path that would take him to the staff house. I pushed the cottage door open with its telltale creak, feeling the dread knotting in my belly as the missive’s words became seared into my memory. I tried desperately to look calmer than I felt, but with the reactions of my family, I knew I failed.
Father, Rhian, Pedr, and Madox were all inside, my family nestled in around the fire, deep in discussion while Madox was at the table, writing a letter. All eyes turned to look up at me when I entered, their collective frowns growing in seeing the rattled look on my face. “What happened?” Father was the first to ask, motioning me to come sit with them. “You look like you have seen a phantom.”
I forced a little smile and shook my head, pretending that this letter was no big issue though I couldn’t bring myself to sit with them. “No, there was just a strange note stuck to our door. I’m sure it’s just a prank of some sort.” I handed the folded parchment to Father, who frowned as he rose to his feet, plucking it from my fingers.
He scanned over the poem, his frown growing into a scowl. “What is this? Who left this?” He demanded as Rhian took the note from Father and read it aloud for Pedr and Madox, whose scowl quickly matched Father’s. Madox rose from the table and rounded the couches, taking the note from Rhian to study it for himself with a critical eye.
I looked at Madox for any sign that he might shed some light on this, though my eyes were quickly pulled to Father. “Bryn went to the staff quarters to ask if anyone saw a stranger in the yard, and I pose the same question here. Did anyone see anything?” My gaze moved between each of them as they shook their heads. Rhian looked over to Madox for some measure of reassurance, though shook her head at my question. “No, I didn’t see anyone around.”
Madox was looking at me and he shook his head also, reporting. “I went on my rounds of the yard a little less than an hour ago and there was no note on the door then, so it would have had to have been put there since then, Lady Carys.” I nodded slowly at him, lifting a hand to lightly rub my forehead. It wasn’t much, but at least we had a time frame. My brow wrinkled as I thought back to our return home from Lund, trying to recall if we passed anyone along the road that might have seemed suspicious. My thoughts had been elsewhere and the details of any other travelers were lost to me.
Brynmor entered the house, looking to me with a light shake of his head, his shaggy brown hair falling into his face. “Nobody saw anyone coming or going that didn’t belong.” His comment raised a question in my mind that I didn’t want to ask, but perhaps it was necessary if only to rule it out.
“I would hate to think it might be left by someone that does belong...is there anyone on staff that might be upset with us currently?” I had been so preoccupied with wedding planning lately and my attentiveness to the household duties was sadly lacking. I briefly wondered if I had made a mistake and forgotten to pay one of them? If that is the case, why would they leave a note like this, rather than simply asking for their pay? This missive made no sense.
Madox shook his head emphatically, trying to quell that suggestion before it grew. “No, Lady Carys. Everyone on staff is happy, it was not one of them. Someone must have waited until my rounds were finished before sneaking up to the doorway. I will go see if there are any tracks.” He looked at Brynmor as he passed me, handed the letter back to me carefully folded. He grabbed his coat and weapons belt from the coat rack. “Come on, you take one side, I’ll take the other.” He grunted and Brynmor nodded, the two heading out the door.
Rhian’s brow creased with worry, Pedr thoughtfully wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders before murmuring softly to Rhian. “I am sure Carys is right, sweetheart. It is probably just someone playing a prank. Its just a poem someone wrote about the god of death and his phoenix.” He smiled, trying to reassure her.
My sister did not look mollified, though she gave a resigned sigh. “I suppose so. It’s just that it doesn’t feel like a prank.” She eyed the folded up parchment in my hands, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. “Maybe it was written by a madman. It sounds like something an insane person might write. Doesn’t it?” She looked up to me then.
I didn’t want to worry her further with any notions that it might be written by someone with a grudge, much less a madman, so I echoed Pedr, managing a smile for her. “I’m sure it is some local teens trying to stir up trouble. Best to pay it no mind, Rhi.” Father grunted his agreement and sat back down in his chair, looking thoughtful as he stared at the hearth. I tucked the parchment away, finally heading into my room to deposit my shoulder wrap and satchel.
I could hear the others still quietly discussing the note and their theories in the main room as I eased down onto my bed tiredly. The initial chill the note induced was beginning to fade, though the dread that knotted my stomach remained. I hated worrying my family, and I hoped this was only a prank, but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to this than a mere joke.
I pulled my boots off, Ben’s knife flashing in the lantern light, and I was suddenly very glad for both the lessons and the weapon he had gifted me. A strange restlessness filled me and I pulled the knife from my boot, holding it loosely in my lap. His words echoed in my mind and I remembered the solidness of his chest at the tip of the knife. Strike hard, angle up, swift kill. My fingertip ran along the full length of the flat of the blade, but a knock on my door had me quickly tucking the knife back into the boot and pushing my footwear under my bed.
Brynmor poked his head into my room as I was pulling my slippers on. “We found tracks.” He said shortly before vanishing from sight, retreating back into the main room as I followed shortly after, eager for Brynmor and Madox’s report.
Brynmor waited until I found a seat before beginning. “We found one set of tracks along the northern wall. I would guess a teenager or smaller adult, maybe a woman? If it was a prank by a bunch of teenagers, then they only sent one in the deliver it. Or maybe they hired one of those skinny street rats from Beggars’ Road. They left the same way they went in, but once they got back to the road, who knows which way they went? There is a broken spot in the wall where you can see most of the yard and the driveway. They hid there and knew exactly when it was all clear. I suggest we fix that so they can’t spy on us again.” He was scowling by the end, and I assumed he was annoyed that he had missed that breach in the wall.
Madox looked equally annoyed at the mention of the break in the wall, though it shifted to resolve quickly enough. “I will put together a list of supplies that we will need, if you don’t mind arranging for their delivery, Lady Carys?” He looked over to me as though asking permission and I nodded quickly.
Iolyn breezed through the front door at that moment, eyebrows raising in amusement as he quipped. “Having a family meeting without me? I suppose I know where I stand now.” He laughed, swaggering over towards the cupboard to grab a bottle of wine. His joke was met with silence as everyone was left staring at him in dumbfounded silence. “Was it something I said or did someone die?” He teased again, though his brow quickly furrowed when he saw the grim expressions that filled the faces of the household. “Uhh…” He suddenly looked very confused, trying to put the pieces of an unk
nown picture together.
Father snorted and rose, heading to the table to top up his own goblet with the wine. “Someone left a cryptic note on our door as a prank. Did you invoke the wrath of a lady or two already, Iolyn?” He grunted at his son, and I wasn’t sure if he was serious or joking, though it seemed (surprisingly) to be the best explanation so far. Iolyn and Brynmor had both left a few broken hearts in their wake, perhaps one of their lady-friends was unhappy with one of them.
Iolyn’s eyes widened and he shook his head emphatically, though I sensed the comment had embarrassed him. “I am not...uh, involved at this time, so it isn’t I. Brynmor is the one who has someone annoyed with him.” Brynmor’s head snapped around to give Iolyn a dark look. “That’s none of your business.” He snapped before shaking his head. “Besides, she is too nice to do something like this. It wouldn’t be her.”
Father rolled his eyes and poured his wine. “Stop it, both of you. You will patch up that part of the fence and we will keep an extra vigilant guard around the property to prevent this from happening again.” He gave Brynmor a direct look, the guard nearly shrinking beneath it. Once he felt that Brynmor was sufficiently stared down, looked to the rest of us. “The hour is growing late and it has been a trying day. I suggest you all get some rest.” And with that, he turned on his heel to head into his own room.
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