Elmetia (The Forgotten Kingdoms Book 1)

by Rachel James

  “Have you spoken to Niall about your misgivings?”

  “Nay. I’ve been so preoccupied of late I hadn’t given it much thought.”

  “I doubt it is on the forefront of his mind either. I should imagine he is more concerned about the future of Elmetia.”

  She swam to the side of the pool. “Oh? What are his plans?”

  “I know not the details, but something will be happening soon.”

  “Do you plan on fighting with us and risk killing your own kinsman?”

  “My agreement to your brother was to train his men. I long for a peaceful life, and I have come to find it here at Angularem. I do not desire to return to Dyrah or Elmetia, no matter who rules the kingdom.”

  “I see.”

  Ryce pushed himself out of the water. “Perchance we ought to finish for now.”

  He held out his arm to help Teagen out, then passed her one of the fresh cloths stacked on the poolside, which she wrapped around herself for modesty.

  They left the pool and entered the drying chamber. Teagen sat on the wooden bench, pulling her covering even closer. She leaned her head back on the wall and propped her legs up.

  “I do like this place. There’s something so comforting about being warm, do you not think?”

  “You ought to marry a prince from the Eastern Empire. I hear it’s hot all year.”

  “Oh nay, I especially like the weather to be cold, so when you come in from the rain, you can sit by a fire, drinking a hot cup of cider, and think, I’m so glad I’m not out in that abysmal climate!” She broke into laughter.

  “So, shall we do this again, same time tomorrow? I think if we keep this up for a couple of weeks, your leg will be back in shape with little problem.”

  “Aye, I’d like that. Once I’m fit, you could teach me to hunt. I can’t tell you how much I miss the bow and arrow.”

  “You do? Well, you should keep up the practice. In fact, why don’t you come along to the men’s training drills? Once you’ve had a few more exercise sessions, that is.”

  “Oh, I don’t think Niall would approve.”

  “You leave the king to me. In all honesty, I’d prefer it. Me and early morrows do not go great together. Sets me off in a bad mood.”

  “I would never guess!”

  Niall loosened his cloak and slung it over the chair in the lower chamber.

  “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to hang the clothes on the hooks once in a while,” said his wife from her position by the fire.

  He walked over to her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I like the variety.”

  Cinnia smiled at his touch. “Is that what you call it?”

  “Uh-huh.” He stroked the back of her neck. “Is it time for bed yet?”

  She turned to face him. “Not for you. Ryce is looking for you.”

  He groaned. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  She shrugged. “I know not what you men talk about in private, but I hasten a guess it is to do with Teagen.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She quirked her eyebrows, and her smile widened.

  He sat next to her and propped his feet up on her lap. “You two are getting along better of late.” He leaned back. “What has changed?”

  “Oh, I suppose seeing your sister as a friend rather than a threat has had something to do with it.” She tilted her head and stared at him. “Am I so terrible a person to live with, Niall?”

  He dropped his legs to the floor and leaned forward. “Nay, of course not.”

  “Then why are we drifting apart?”

  “We’re not drifting, merely finding our way toward each other, ’tis all. No one ever said marriage would be easy.”

  “Do you still love me? Despite all my whims?”

  He tenderly stroked the side of her face, tracing her defined features. “I’ll always love you, lass. I pray God will help me find ways of showing it to you.”

  A tear ran down her cheek. “I’m sorry that my moods are so changeable. I really will try harder.”

  “I know, love.”

  She smiled and patted his knee. “In the meantime, I did tell Ryce you’d pay him a visit before nightfall.”

  He rose reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll be off.” He pecked the other side of her face before grabbing his crumpled cloak and heading out the door. “Oh, where will he be?”

  “The infirmary, I think.”

  “Is he sick?”

  “Methinks not.”

  Niall shook his head. He’d find out soon enough. He darted down the steps. The night air was crisp. A touch colder, and there’d be snow.

  When he entered the infirmary, Ryce was nowhere to be found.

  Sherwin sat at his table, writing. “My king, is everything all right?”

  “Aye, I’m fine. Cinnia mentioned Ryce was looking for me.”

  Sherwin placed his feather down. “You’ve just missed him, but he shouldn’t be long. You’re welcome to wait here.” Sherwin motioned for him to sit.

  He obliged him. “Very well, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about Teagen at any rate. We never had opportunity to discuss your observations.”

  Sherwin clasped his hands together and leaned forward. “As far as I can ascertain, the princess has no issues. With the exception of parts of her long-term memory, she seems fine. She retains the information she’s being taught, and her behaviour is no longer irrational.”

  “But she still cannot recall the time between Hunter’s Forest and her accident. Surely that has to mean something.”

  “Sire, she may never fully regain her memory. The way our bodies work is a mystery. Let us be thankful she has only lost a very small part of her life’s recollection. Other than that, she is fighting fit.”

  Before he could reply, the door swung open, and Ryce stormed in. “Sire,” Ryce exclaimed. “What good fortune. I have been searching for you.”

  He stood. “I am here at your bidding. What can I do for you, Ryce?”

  “I wanted to check with you about the princess. I’ve been working with her over the last few weeks in exercise sessions, and I consider now that she is ready to commence combat training with the rest of garrison. I’ve asked her to join tomorrow’s drills.”

  Niall clenched his jaw. “You did what?”

  Ryce faltered.

  “I thought I made myself clear months ago that the princess demands private tutelage.”

  “You did, sire, but I was under the impression your reason behind the instruction was because she would not be able to keep up with the men.”

  “Since when does your station give you liberty to ‘think’?”

  “Sire?”

  Niall paced the room. “My initial concern was for the princess’s propriety. I am trying to encourage ladylike behaviour within my sister, an area I consider she lacks occasionally. Her presence among the men may also cause distraction. It is simply not fitting to have a woman practice with them, never mind a princess.”

  “My lord, I’m limited now with what I can teach her. She is exceptionally good, and needs to train with others. She is ready. Besides, the men need to learn how to fight no matter the distraction.”

  “What of her physical wellbeing? The trauma she has been through of late can be made only worse if exposed to a hostile setting. It was different when she had private tutelage from yourself. I knew she was safe. But if she trains with the men, surely, she will only get hurt. What if the damage becomes permanent?”

  Sherwin rose and intercepted between them. “Good men, may I offer my opinion?”

  Niall nodded.

  “The princess is fully restored, as far as I can discern, to physical fitness. Her leg, since her sessions with Ryce, is working properly, and her wound to her shoulder has also healed.

  “With regard to her mind, I cannot see any problems either. Surely exposing her to further physical training will only enhance her skills, therefore minimizing the risk of future incidences.”

  Niall slumped on
the chair and stared at Sherwin. “You think I should let her train with the men?” he said quietly.

  “I do, sire. You cannot always protect her from harm, and she has to learn herself.”

  He drew out a deep sigh. “Very well, Ryce. you have my permission, but promise me this. You make sure she is treated fairly.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, my lord.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Teagen peered out, heart pounding, stomach in knots. What was she doing? If she left now, no one would notice.

  “Princess, glad you could join us.”

  Her face grew warm. She stepped forward, humiliated, unable to look at their faces. “Commander.” She gave a slight curtsey and stood next to a soldier in formation. She sensed their eyes upon her, and their judgements forming...the battlefield was no place for a lady.

  Ryce cleared his throat. “The princess is joining us for practice today, and I trust you will all give her the kindness and respect she deserves.”

  Teagen inwardly grimaced. He meant well, but did he have to draw so much attention to her? Right now, she wished the earth would swallow her up.

  “We’ll start with warm-up drills. Warriors...begin!”

  Before she knew it, the others had sprinted off, running the length of the courtyard, back and forth. She stood, mouth agape. Should she follow suit? Ryce had never mentioned anything about exercise.

  “Princess!” Ryce shouted.

  She glanced back at him, and he jerked his head toward the soldiers.

  So, this was how it would be. Well, if he wanted a soldier out of her, she’d give it to him. Hitching her skirt, she ran in the same direction, a mixture of wind and sand whipping her eyes.

  She’d managed two lengths before her lungs burned and her side split in agony. Her hair had long since fallen out of her loose braid, and she struggled to see where to go.

  The other warriors sniggered as they bypassed her.

  “What’s a princess doing out here?” one of them grumbled.

  She tripped on her long skirt, the rip spreading from hem to halfway up her leg.

  Another tall soldier whisked past. “Still, it be a very pleasant distraction, having a fair lady to gawp at while we work.”

  “Not a distraction I care for—we’re here to train. ’Tis no place for a princess.”

  She stopped and bent low, her hands resting on her thighs.

  “Keep going!” Ryce shouted.

  She glared at him. This was all his fault. Practice indeed. She was the mockery here. She hitched a shredded skirt and lifted her chin.

  I’ll show them.

  Ryce ran after her. “Teagen, where are you going? You can’t give up now.”

  She spun around. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well fear not, Commander, I’m no quitter.” Before he had chance to respond, she ran off to her chamber. Lunet was not there, thank goodness. Her maid would not like this.

  She peeled off her now ruined tunic—it appeared she had developed somewhat of a habit of destroying her fine robes. She grabbed the short tunic and hose she had worn during her exercise sessions and speedily dressed.

  Thankful she was adept in dressing hair, she fixed her long locks into a tight braid no amount of training would ruin. She didn’t dare peer at herself in the mirror, or she might lose her nerve.

  Energy surged through her, and she clutched her abdomen.

  Get yourself together.

  Exhaling, she bolted out of her chamber and back to the training ground.

  The men busily assembled their weaponry. Ryce’s eyes flickered at hers, and a small smile formed on his face. He nodded in approval.

  “Princess, grab your bow. We begin target practice.”

  She sensed their eyes upon her once more, but this time she was prepared. Some of the men sniggered behind her.

  “This should be good,” one of them said.

  “Quiet, men.” Ryce waited for all the warriors to be in position. “Ready...aim…release!” Fifty arrows shot through the sky, landing on their intended targets. Ryce strolled past each mark and inspected. “Drefan,” he said as he walked down the line, “Orvin, Albion, and...Teagen. Step forward, and go again, at the next target please.”

  She caught her breath. Did this mean she was doing well? She placed another arrow in her bow and held her poise, focusing on the new mark, fifty yards farther away.

  “Ready...aim...release!”

  She watched with bated breath as her arrow soared, cutting through open space and landing firmly on the target.

  She gasped. The other men’s arrows were not as close.

  “Well, I’ll be,” said Ryce, quietly.

  She heard the men muttering once more. Her momentary enthusiasm deflated. Their Elmetian pride would not take kindly to a woman bettering them.

  “It seems you have been upstaged by your princess. Let’s see if you fare better by your swords.”

  She swallowed. Sword practice too? She drank in the size of the nearest warrior to her. Ryce surely wouldn’t pair her with one of these men. Why, it would be downright improper.

  “Drefan, you seem to be the princess’s match. She’s your new sparring partner.”

  Dread filled her as Drefan swung his broadsword left and right, marking the air with his blade. Why hadn’t Ryce explained this to her? She had only practiced with wooden swords. Did he want her to get killed?

  Ryce handed her a weapon, its weight burdensome in her grasp. She gazed up imploringly. Had he no heart?

  “Oh, and Drefan, be gentle on her—she is a princess, after all.”

  Drefan made a snide comment under his breath, which she didn’t catch.

  “Warriors...begin!”

  Within moments, Drefan charged at her, and she ducked instinctively, sending Drefan to the floor.

  “Cursed woman. You're supposed to block, not trip me.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She’d not received such comments even as a slave back in Dyrah. He came at her again, but this time she remembered to obstruct his blows. The sword was far too big for her, and she’d only managed a few swipes before the sweat began to form on her brow.

  She had to think. She needed to use her slightness to her advantage against the taller soldier. When he charged her once more, she slipped under his arm, elbowed him in the stomach, slammed her foot on his toes, and knocked him over with the handle of the sword.

  Drefan stood and swiped the blood that seeped at his mouth. “Why, you little wench, you’re supposed to play by the rules. This is no cat fight, ’tis a man’s game.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. She stared across at Ryce, whose attention was engaged elsewhere.

  She didn’t have to stand for this.

  She threw her sword into the ground and stepped close to Drefan.

  “May I remind you of whom you speak to. As far as I can see, combat is a matter of defending your life. It matters not whether you use your sword or your fist. Your lack of respect does you no credit, soldier. You’ll not look favourably upon this day, I promise you.”

  With her chin in the air, she spun around and strode off the training ground.

  Ryce scanned the garrison of soldiers in formation. Where was Teagen? He had been foolish to pair her with Drefan. He’d planned to partner her himself, but realized at the time it would look like favouritism. Truly, he had not thought this one through.

  “At ease, soldiers.”

  As he watched the lines disperse, he ran a hand over his hair.

  “Commander, may I have a word?”

  Composing himself, he turned toward Ansgar. “Of course, what is it?” The two men headed slowly back to the fort.

  “The men are talking.”

  “About the princess?”

  “Aye, sir. I fear her presence has brought division.”

  Ryce halted. “What do you mean?”

  Ansgar played with his beard. “Some are not happy a woman is permitted to train with us, while others are upset at the way she
be treated.”

  Ryce shook his head. Had he missed something? “I grant you, I should have prepared the soldiers, but she was not dealt with badly.”

  “Aye, sir. Drefan treated her cruelly.”

  His heart sank. “He was unkind?”

  “He called her a wench. The princess left practice early. She tried not to show it, but she held back the tears. Sir, I ask you, what did you possibly hope to achieve by letting her train with the men?”

  Thinking on it now, he wasn’t too sure himself. “What should I do?”

  “We’ll need to take this matter to the king. He would like to be informed, and can choose to punish Drefan in whichever way he deems necessary.”

  Ryce inwardly groaned. Niall had been against this from the start. “You’re right. I’ll pay a visit to the princess and try and make amends first. Thank you for your honesty, Ansgar.”

  The older soldier gave a grim smile. “I’ve known Teagen since she be a bairn. I hate to see her hurting and humiliated. She deserves more respect than what the men bestowed upon her.”

  Ryce sighed. He really had made a mess of things. He glanced up at the sun. It would not be long before the midday meal.

  He headed toward the hall, not yet time for lunch, but mayhap he could get a preview from the kitchen staff.

  As he entered in the side entrance, his heart did a double take.

  What in the world?

  “Teagen?”

  She looked up, her face red and puffy, her arms covered in flour, and she pounded at a lump of dough angrily.

  She did not answer, but continued to attack the bread.

  He glanced at Lunet, who sat on a kitchen stool next to her. She held up her hands. “Don’t ask us. She’s been like this for the last half hour.”

  “And you let her?”

  “There’s no arguing with the princess when she be this way. You're better off leaving her to it. Do not worry, she’ll be back to her usual self soon enough.”

  He hesitated. Should he apologize now, or return after she’d calmed down? “Teagen, this is no place for the likes of you.”