Just One Knight

by Bridget Essex

  When I met her, the world itself seemed to shift beneath my feet.

  Where is she now? Is she following us? Is she near?

  “Queenie, we must go.” Yeri’s voice is tight with desperation, and the Fox Queen, Tahlia, stands straight and sighs.

  “Yes, yes. Let’s climb, shall we?”

  I stare up at the wall, swallowing.

  I have a feeling that this night is about to become even stranger.

  Chapter 11

  TALIS

  I tug Cossie along as Rane and I ride through the streets. I hesitated to bring the donkey, knowing he would slow us down, but once I find Tahlia and free Cinda from her, Cinda will need a mount. The Nymph Tree is too far from Arktos City to traverse on foot—unless you have a lot of time at your disposal.

  Oh, gods and goddesses, how long it’s been since I was last at the Nymph Tree. I shrug off a surge of emotion, urging Rane to go faster, faster, and begging the complaining Cossie to try his best to keep up.

  My head is lost in thoughts of the past, of Tahlia, and of Cinda—that is, until I reach the last block before the city gates and realize that I must pass by the guards in order to exit the city.

  I must pass by the guards who are knights, and who know every other knight. They will recognize me—and they will know, instantly, that this armor is not and could not be mine.

  I pull Rane up hard, and she swears at me under her breath, champing at the bit and nearly sitting back on her heels as she skids to a halt.

  “Must I remind you that I'm pregnant?” she snarls, flicking her tail in annoyance. “This is a bit more than I signed up for, you know.”

  “Sorry.” I exhale, massaging my temple. “But, Rane, you did beg to be freed from your stall. You said you were tired of being cooped up—”

  “I know what I said,” the horse snorts, flicking her tail harder this time and slicking her ears back. “But we’re in a right mess. Your sister kidnapping that poor woman... This could get very hairy very quickly.”

  “Yes, I know.” My voice is quiet and strained, my heart racing as I tug at the edge of the chest piece; it suddenly feels too tight against my throat. “Look, first things first, okay? I have to figure out how to get past the guards. They'll know I’m not a knight.”

  And to that Rane has nothing to say.

  Because we both understand that the next few moments could change my life forever.

  There is no chance of my not going after Tahlia and Cinda. Of course I must try my best to find them. It’s because of me that Tahlia kidnapped Cinda. It’s because of me that that fine lady is in potential danger. I am responsible, and, as such, I must set things to rights. So I have to figure out how to get past the guards and get out of the city.

  My palms are sweaty inside of my leather gloves as I run through scenarios in my head. If only...

  And then, in answer to my prayers to the Goddess, there she is: Lellie.

  She trots up on her mare as if out of thin air, which I know is not the case. I sit up in the saddle and stare at my best friend with an open mouth.

  “What—” we both begin at the same moment, and—despite everything that’s going on—I can’t help but chuckle as we proceed to talk over one another.

  “Lellie, please listen,” I finally say, and I motion for her to come closer.

  She does, sidestepping her mare to move alongside Rane; our calves are nearly touching. I reach out and snake my arm around my friend’s shoulders, and then I murmur into her ear, so that no one else might overhear: “My sister held up the tavern. And she kidnapped Cinda, the lady I was about to…well, you know.” I pause, shaking my head. “Tahlia took her out of the city, because she… She's using her to make certain that I follow. She wants to meet with me at the Nymph Tree.”

  When I draw back, Lellie’s face is pinched, as if with confusion. “Why does she want to meet with you?”

  I shake my head again. “I don't know.”

  “It just seems that—if I recall correctly...” She bites her lower lip, her expression pained as she watches me. “Well, from what you've told me, the two of you parted on…bad terms?”

  My blood races hotter in my veins. “It wasn’t my fault—”

  “I never said it was. Talis.” She touches my shoulder gently. “I know it was a hard time for you.” I can feel the gentleness of her hand, even through the armor plates. “But if she wants to talk to you now, perhaps she intends to mend old wounds.”

  I wince and clear my throat. “I don’t have time to consider that—to consider...any of that.” My voice is thick with emotion. “I need to save Cinda from the situation I’ve put her in. She’s been kidnapped by the Fox Queen, and I can’t imagine that is sitting well with her.”

  Lellie laughs a little, arching a brow. “I’m fairly certain half of Arktos City would be quite glad to be kidnapped by the Fox Queen. I doubt Cinda’s suffering much...” Her words trail off as she realizes what she just suggested. “I’m sorry, Talis. I just meant—”

  “That my sister is going to get Cinda into bed before I arrive.” The words are dry, but there’s hurt in them, too. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that my sister beat me to tumbling a woman I had feelings for…

  Lellie reaches into the saddlebags on Rane’s backside, rummaging around in them, dropping her own reins altogether. “I have an idea about how to get you past the guards. I’ll go with you. I didn’t have anything in particular planned for tonight, anyway. It’ll be fun!”

  “Are you sure? Because after you slipped out with Cinda’s friend, I thought—”

  “No,” she chuckles, and she draws something out of the saddlebags, a bundle of cloth, and hands it to me. “Oh, I tried, but Jeene shot me down faster than a bird out of the sky. We just wanted to leave you two alone, give you some space, let feelings blossom.” The way she emphasizes the word makes me chuckle again.

  I sag with relief. Lellie's coming with me. I might actually get past the guards. I might be able to rescue Cinda and return Rane to her stall before anyone notices she's been gone.

  Things are starting to look up.

  I glance down at my hands to see what Lellie has placed in them. “A cloak?”

  “What were you expecting? A cake? It’s laughably simply—and it worked when we left the stable, didn't it? Granted, the stakes were lower then...”

  “But, Lellie, they'll recognize Rane—”

  “Just put on the cloak and talk like Asla, and the guards will think you are Asla, taking Rane out for a late-night stroll.”

  Talk like Asla?

  My throat is so tight that I can hardly breathe. “No, it won't work. These are knights we’re talking about. And I'm no actor. I can't just pretend to be Asla—”

  “Do you have any better ideas?”

  “No, but—”

  “Look, it’s a simple plan, and that’s why they won’t get suspicious. Put the cloak on, draw the hood over your face, and don’t say much. I'll do most of the talking. We'll be out of the city before you know it.”

  “Lellie—”

  “Talis,” she drawls, pronouncing the syllables with exaggerated indulgence. “Do you trust me?”

  I look at my best friend, and I nod instantaneously.

  Of course I trust her.

  “Then prove it, and trust me on this.” She gestures to the cloak. “Put it on. Time’s wasting. We have to get Cinda back tonight before anyone notices that Rane’s missing.”

  “I know.” Then I’m undoing the metal clasp at the throat of the cloak and swinging the heavy fabric around my shoulders. I redo the clasp at the junctures of the armored chest plate and pull the heavy hood over my head. This cloak is usually used for campaigning; it's magicked to keep out bad weather and the cold, so it’s a bit thick and stifling. “How do I look?”

  Lellie peers at me in the glow of the magelight. “I can’t even see your face. This might actually work!” she chirps, and then she sits up straighter in her saddle, assuming a serious face.
“All right—follow my lead. Let’s do this.”

  If I had enough time, I would come up with a detailed plan comprised of steps and sub-steps, including a chart of Things I Should Say to knights who might question me—but Lellie’s right: we have to get out of the city as quickly as possible.

  So I nod, and Lellie urges her mare, Sasha, forward with a squeeze of her legs.

  We're taking a terrible risk; we could be caught in a crime that might result in our imprisonment.

  And there is, deep inside of me, an even sharper fear.

  Still…I urge Rane forward, and we approach the gates.

  The gates stand open tonight because of the festivities related to the Hero’s Tournament. Many folk have traveled to the city from far and wide, and there aren't enough inns to accommodate all of them, so camps have been set up outside of the city. Of course, the people staying at the camps want to be able to come in for a bite to eat or a visit with friends and family, so the gates will remain unlocked all night.

  But there are more guards on duty than usual—two clusters of knights on either side of the gate—watching people come and go, asking travelers at random to explain their business in the city.

  We drift toward the group of knights on the right. I’m following Lellie’s lead, as instructed, taking care to keep my head down.

  Eyes lowered, I hear a familiar voice.

  “Lellie, my girl, what are you up to tonight?” drawls the smiling voice of a knight I like very much: Kell. She’s one of the wilder knights and often works directly with Queen Calla. She isn't usually tasked with guarding the gates, but I guess the tournament has required the knights to rearrange their responsibilities.

  Kell is very kind, though cheeky. She’s never treated me as less than her equal. I can't risk glancing up now, but I imagine she’s wearing her usual armor—her waist bared, with only a chest piece and armored strips covering her hips.

  “Kell!” Lellie practically sings, and leans down in her saddle so that the two of them can clasp arms in greeting. “I’m headed out of the city with Asla. Queen Calla wants us to patrol the edge of Fury Wood.”

  “Eh, really?” asks Kell, surprise evident in her voice. “You poor devils. What’s the queen so worried about that she’d send you out there tonight?”

  Lellie’s shoulders lift and fall in an exaggerated shrug. “Bandits. She has heard that the Fox Queen might strike tonight because there are so many newcomers in the city.”

  Kell snorts. “From what I hear,” she says, chuckling, “there are more than a few ladies in our fine city who wouldn’t mind being robbed by her. But don’t let me keep you.”

  And she’s about to wave us through when she pauses, clears her throat. “Just…one last thing.”

  I stiffen beneath the cloak, and my blood runs as cold as ice.

  Kell knows. She knows that I’m not Asla...

  “Asla?” begins Kell, her voice good-natured and soft. “Your attendant, Talis. I heard she was given some bad news today.”

  Word travels fast in the knights’ barracks.

  I nod stiffly, my heart thrumming in my chest.

  Why is she speaking of this?

  “The thing is… Well, you can be a little hard on her.” Kell's voice is purposefully light. “But I think you should take her on as your squire. Now, I know there’s been talk. But many of us don’t believe lineage matters, not when a woman has proven herself like Talis has. After all, none of us can control the circumstances of our birth.”

  She waits a moment, as if she's expecting me to reply. When I don't, she sighs and goes on: “Consider it, all right? I’ve never seen a woman work harder in my life than poor Talis, and she deserves a shot at knighthood, just like we had.”

  Again, I nod but hold my tongue. Even if I weren't in the middle of this ridiculous, cloak-wearing subterfuge, I don't think I would be able to reply. My throat is too thick with emotion, and my heart aches inside of me.

  The knights are always kind to me, and save for a few of them (Asla, in particular), they treat me with respect. They joke with me, laugh with me, even though I’m far beneath them in the hierarchy of Arktos City.

  Still, even with all of that, I never figured that they thought about me or my predicament deeply. I never thought that they knew how badly I wished to become a knight.

  Thanks to Magel, I now know that some of them do not want me to become a knight at all.

  But some of them do.

  Like Kell.

  “Anyway—have fun, kids!” Kell raises her arm, waving us past.

  Lellie urges Sasha into a slow trot as we move through the city gates. We trot together down the stone road for a good, long while without conversation. Eventually, we turn off the road, onto the path that leads to Fury Wood. We’ve lost the magelights that illuminate the cobblestone road leading away from Arktos City. Lellie takes a torch out of her satchel and lights it with a simple magic word. It flares to life, and then—and only then—do I throw back the hood and slow Rane to a halt, Cossie crossly tugging for more lead rope so that he can crop the grass by the path.

  Lellie stares at me, holding the torch aloft, a soft smile on her face.

  “You have more friends than you think, Talis,” she tells me gently, not in an “I told you so” sort of tone, but a caring one.

  I nod my head, ducking it a little. I have to focus, focus on finding my sister, on finding Cinda.

  Still, Lellie's reassurance feels good.

  You have more friends than you think.

  We head further into the forest, aiming for Fury Wood.

  Chapter 12

  CINDA

  “I really hate horses,” I say to no one in particular.

  “They don’t seem to care for you much either.” Tahlia’s voice is mild, but there’s bemusement to it as she glances over her shoulder at me.

  I’m currently riding along behind Tahlia on the back of her gigantic, much-taller-than-necessary mare. Her mount is, of course, one that would befit a Fox Queen, and is all big, black, resplendent, etcetera, etcetera…the mare is, in short, impressive and gorgeous (for a horse), jet black with a flowing mane and tail and big brown eyes. I’ve also found that said mare is testy and a bit of an ass. Her name is apparently Mika (I picked this up from Tahlia trying to soothe her when she spooked at her own shadow and danced sideways, elaborately trying to unseat me), and Mika, apparently, does not take pleasure in the fact that she has to carry around two ladies for the evening.

  For the mare has tried to buck the offending second lady (me) off multiple times since I was pulled up to ride behind Tahlia.

  This has not been an enjoyable trip. Which is frustrating.

  Because it should be.

  I am, after all, out on my very first adventure, and that should be met with excitement! Swashbuckling moments! I don’t know, fun, at the very least. I’ve heard that riding along behind a very attractive woman, gripping her middle and pressing your décolletage against her back is supposed to be a sensual pleasurefair of grand sensations and loveliness. But that is, in fact, not accurate. Because if you are behind the woman on a horse and the horse is going any bit faster than a very, very subdued walk, it is incredibly uncomfortable. I’ve never felt more like a sack of potatoes in my life, and—to be fair—I’ve felt like a sack of potatoes every single time I’ve ever had to ride a wretched equine.

  So, in short, it’s an uncomfortable nightmare.

  That is, until we stop.

  “Oh, thank Goddess,” I manage when Tahlia pulls the mare up to a halt. I feel so jostled that my teeth are still clacking together, and I hardly notice when Tahlia taps my hands with gloved fingers. She has to do it three times.

  “Cinda,” she murmurs, glancing back over her shoulder again. “I need to dismount—would you mind?”

  “Mind? No. Why would I mind?” I mutter, and then try to drag my clasping hands apart from their spot very firmly clenched over her navel. Unfortunately, my hands appear to be clenched just a bit t
oo tightly together, and it takes a few heartbeats to relax my muscles enough to wrench them apart. Again, Tahlia looks back over her shoulder at me in bemusement before throwing her right leg over her horse’s neck and sliding off the big beast’s back without a thought.

  It’s a long, long way down from the back of this mare, something I didn’t even have time to think about until this moment as I stare in abject horror at the very long dismount.

  Tahlia stretches for a moment overhead, her gloved hands at the small of her back, and when she turns, she glances up at me, her head to the side.

  “Here—it looks like you need help.” Her mouth is set in a twitching smile, though she’s trying to quell it as she reaches her arms up to me in my precarious perch on the horse’s rump.

  “Get me off of this thing,” I mutter, and then I’m sliding down into her grasp. Her hands at my waist are firm and skilled as she lifts me down gently, and my feet finally, blessedly, connect with the ground once more.

  I push my hair out of my eyes—it really has worked its way out of its braids at this point—and I glance up at Tahlia. Fox Queen, Tahlia. The gorgeous, dashing highwaywoman that quite a few ladies in Arktos City would give their treasures for. But when I gaze up at her now, I’m resolved again.

  It’s strange, but when I look up at Tahlia, all I’m reminded of is Talis.

  The Fox Queen really does look like the knight. It’s odd, really, how many similarities they have in their faces.

  “Anyway,” I manage, clearing my throat, glancing around. “Where…are we?”

  It’s an important question, because we don’t appear to be anywhere at all.

  That’s not exactly true. We’re standing in the woods. There are several large, towering trees all around us, and I appear to have my feet currently planted on some very verdant, very springy moss. I glance down at the moss at my feet, and then up again. Yeri and Bay, the other smaller woman, I’ve learned, are holding aloft magelamps in their fists, so they cast a little bit of light around the surrounding woods. There’s a moon out tonight, but it’s only a waxing quarter, and even that is caught behind a handful of clouds.