Aaricia couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself. “Why does he hate me so much?”
Halldora was quiet for a moment as she released Ari’s hands and smoothed the folds of her dress. “I can’t say, my dear. I’m sorry. Stay in the kitchen unless I call you personally. Do not go to him even if he orders you! Do you understand, Ari?”
The Queen was the only one to call her by the nickname, as her parents had. Ari nodded. “I understand, your grace.”
“I’m sending a young knight to you,” Halldora whispered in her ear. “I want you to do everything he asks of you.”
Aaricia’s stomach tightened and her skin felt suddenly cold. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I need you to be prepared,” Halldora said. “Do you trust me?”
Despite her fear over being ordered to follow a young man’s every instruction, Aaricia trusted her absolutely. “I do.”
“I would never hurt you, Ari. You’re under my protection.”
She knew the only reason she was still alive was because of the Queen’s interest in her.
“Yes, your grace.”
“Now go to the kitchen and work until you’re called for.” The Queen turned on her heel and headed down the passageway in the same direction the King had left.
Ari watched Halldora walk away, unmoving until the sound of the older woman’s footsteps no longer resounded through the passageway. She slowly made her way back to the kitchen as her imagination ran wild with pictures of what the Queen’s words could mean. Was the Queen giving her a husband? Or rewarding a knight with a girl to use? Surely it couldn’t be the latter. She prayed it would not be.
For two days Ari worked, slept, and waited. She was beginning to forget about the meeting with the knight when he finally sent for her one morning. One of the senior ladies of the kitchen, Diera, pulled her aside. Diera would also quell any gossip that might spread from the kitchen and prevent it from reaching the King. At least, Ari hoped she could. For all she could guess, the King would rather see her dead than… well, anything.
Diera led Ari through the dark underbelly of the castle, their feet stepping silently through passageways long forgotten even by the castle’s oldest inhabitants. The only light came from a single torch held high by Diera. Her other hand gripped Ari’s tightly.
She had never been mean to the girl, but she hadn’t been overly affectionate either. No one had ever stepped in as a surrogate mother, for which Ari had so desperately longed. Even as a little girl, there had been no one to hug her, to hold her tight and comfort her when the nightmares came. Dreams of monsters rising from the sea and of men raising their swords and spears against her had plagued her for as long as she could remember.
Ari was lost in the visions from her dreams when Diera finally stopped. She held a finger to her lips and looked both ways before taking a skeleton key from a hidden pocket in her skirts and inserting it into the rusted lock of a dusty, ancient-looking door. After a struggle to get the frozen lock to work, the mechanism groaned and finally gave, clunking as it opened.
The door creaked as Diera pushed it and entered, searching the dark room for another torch to light. She found one seated in a sconce on the wall and lit it with her torch. Ari looked around the shadows of the large stone room as the second torch brightened it. A stone table was pressed against one wall and an old straw bed on the floor against another. Chills tickled the back of her neck as she surveyed her sparse surroundings.
“You must stay here. Do you understand?”
Ari nodded and cast her gaze to the floor.
“Take this,” Diera said, her voice softening as she handed the girl a cloth.
Unwrapping it, Ari found there was a large chunk of bread and a wedge of cheese inside.
“Sir Lucan will bring water.” Diera paused to stare at the girl for a moment before smoothing her hair. Her eyes glistened with tears and she kissed the girl on her forehead before leaving the room.
Stunned, Ari watched Diera leave the room and close the door behind her. The lock clunked again and Ari’s heart raced as she realized Diera had locked the door. She couldn’t leave. Was it a trick? Would she be starved in the depths of the castle dungeons for some unknown trespass?
Tears filled her eyes as she sat on the straw mat at the far end of the room with her bread and cheese. Fearful of how long she would be left locked in the room, she decided against eating it now.
Hours seemed to pass without a sound to greet her and her despair grew. Without daylight to tell the passage of time, she didn’t know how long it had been since Diera left her. At times she cried and other times she steeled herself against the pain that nestled like a thorn in the depths of her heart.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway beyond the door and her heart leaped with hope. She was terrified she was being left to die alone in the room and didn’t dismiss the suspicion until she heard the lock clunk in the door. The hinges creaked as it swung open and heavy footsteps clodded through the opening.
A young, raven-haired man stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Ari stretched her legs and stood, moving only a few steps toward him before stopping and lowering her gaze. She wanted to look at him, to examine him, but she was frightened of what he would ask of her.
He placed the torch he carried in a wall sconce near the door and turned toward her. “Aaricia?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied softly.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes, sir,” she tried again, a little more loudly this time.
“You’re too meek,” he observed as he lifted a bag from his shoulder and set it on the table. He pulled two water skins and two wooden cups from within it. “Come. Sit.”
Ari complied without question, relieved he didn’t ask for any of the things she had imagined.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Sir Lucan.” He poured a liquid into both cups and offered one to her.
She picked up the cup and looked inside. Although she had hoped for water, she tasted honey mead when it touched her lips. It was a treat she had enjoyed only twice before, in secret with the Queen after all others had retired for the evening.
“Why do you think I’ve come to this dark room in a forgotten corner of an old dungeon, where no one can hear you scream?”
Ari froze and lifted her gaze to lock eyes with him. His were sapphire blue, the color of the sky on a cloudless autumn day. The angles of his cheekbones and his jawline hinted at his broad frame and muscular features beneath the baggy tunic and breeches.
His laughter broke the growing tension in the air, but not in her chest. “I jest, girl.”
“I’m not a girl,” she corrected him in a low voice.
“Oh?” He grinned at her. “A toast then, woman, to whatever fate we’re hurtling toward.”
“To Fate,” she agreed and drank. The mead was sweet and strong but it soothed her dry throat. She wanted more but placed the empty cup on the table instead of asking.
“Queen Halldora wants me to train you,” he said after emptying his cup. “In combat.”
“In combat?” Ari shook her head in disbelief, unsure of whether he was speaking in jest again.
“Yes.” He sighed, unbuckling his sword belt and placing it on the table. “It’s not my place to question the Queen.”
“What does the King think of this?” Ari asked, rubbing her thumb over the rough fabric of the rags she wore.
“The King does not know. That’s why we’re here, in this forsaken place.” His eyes examined the dancing shadows of the room’s farthest corners.”If he found out, he might kill us both. He would kill the Queen too.”
“Y-you’ll teach me to use the sword?”
“Not yet.” He shook his head. “We’ll work up to that. Come.” He motioned her to follow him toward the middle of the room. Without warning, he turned and swung his right fist at her.
Ari ducked and with nimble feet, she danced backward out of his reach. Her body trembled as she watched h
im carefully.
“Good,” he said with a laugh. “I didn’t expect you to have such reflexes.”
“I don’t like being hit,” she growled, her voice low as she fought to control her trembling body.
“Have you been hit often?”
She shrugged. “Often enough to learn to move out of the way.”
“Do you run when they might hit you?”
“When I can,” she admitted.
“Sometimes you can’t run from a fight. Have you ever hit anyone back?”
She shook her head. “Never. I’d be flogged for it. I don’t like being flogged either.”
“Well, that’s why I’m here. No,” he held up a hand as she tensed. “Not for flogging. To teach you how to fight back.”
“The Queen wants me to fight?” Ari couldn’t imagine fighting back.
“No. Well, at least, not right now.” He stepped closer to her and held out his hand. “She wants you to be ready. Beyond her instructions to me to teach you how to survive in combat and how to kill, I don’t know anything else.”
“To kill?” she asked. “Have you ever seen a woman fight?”
“Actually, in my first battle. We joined the armies of Nerceha and Ulfland to fight in the north and both kingdoms had women warriors. There were spearwomen and swordswomen, but mostly archers. They were every bit as fierce as their brothers in battle, and it was incredible to see them in action, like the tales of battlefield angels.”
“Why don’t we have women-”
“I don’t know,” Lucan cut her off.
“Why would you do this?”
“What?” He sighed and turned back to the table and refilled his cup with mead.
“Why would you obey the Queen and go behind his back?”
Lucan sighed and drank his mead before answering. “Because I owe the Queen my loyalty. Did you know she was the wife of Grindan’s predecessor?” Ari shook her head. “King Ecbert was an honorable man, a good man, and a fierce warrior. When he fell in battle against great odds, my father recaptured his body and returned him to the Queen. He was buried, but his sword was not returned to the lake.”
“What?”
He raised an eyebrow at her, his cup paused before his lips. “You mean you don’t know?”
Ari shook her head.
“By the gods, what do they do to you folk here in the castle?”
“I’m just… just a servant,” Ari said softly.
“So, quickly then I’ll try to explain this. There is a great goddess in the lake of Myst. She is our protector, the patroness of our people.”
“I do know of the goddess Cea’tae.”
“Do you know that she grants the throne to whom she sees fit?” Ari shook her head and Lucan continued. “I haven’t seen it myself yet but when the king dies, his sword must be cast into the lake and returned to the goddess. Then all the men are called, and many of the noble ladies. Those who would seek the throne present themselves to the goddess. Cea’tae will only rise for the true king, granting him the sacred sword called ‘Sunniveh.’ That is how every rightful king has been chosen as far back as our people can remember.”
He finished another cup of mead in a single swallow.
“Even king Grindan?”
“I said every ‘rightful’ king. Grindan was not granted the throne by the Goddess. When my father brought back King Ecbert’s body, he was knighted by Queen Halldora. When the rest of the King’s knights returned, they called for the sword to be returned to the lake. Grindan had been one of the King’s knights, but unremarkable. When Ecbert fell in battle, Grindan took the sword and fled the battlefield, hiding until the Queen’s mourning period of three moons had passed. When he returned, he refused to cast the sword in the lake, claiming the throne and Queen Halldora as his own. He murdered many of the other knights, either in open combat or through assassination. The kingdom has been cursed ever since.”
“By the gods, how has he not been slain?”
“When he came back, he was stronger than anyone remembered, as if he had spent all the three moons he was missing in training. He came back a swordmaster and more ruthless than ever. He terrorized and murdered his way through any opposition until those remaining were too terrified for their own families to rise against him. Grindan murdered men, women, and children in his quest for power. The gods have cursed him with no children and cursed us with poor harvests, poor weather, and sickness.”
“So, you hate Grindan and that’s why you’ll do the Queen’s bidding?”
“As any man sound of mind should. But it’s more than that. The Queen protected my father because he brought back Ecbert for a proper burial, and she protected my family from Grindan’s bloodlust. I watched my friends grow up without fathers. Some of my friends were murdered along with their entire families. It has been a dark life for those of us who survived his early rampages. I owe the Queen my life. My family line will be forever indebted to her.”
“I guess I’m lucky then.”
“Indeed,” he said simply before stepping forward and grabbing her hand. In a movement she couldn’t see, Lucan pulled her toward him and kicked her feet out from beneath her. Since he held her so tightly, he lowered her so she didn’t fall hard to the floor.
“You always have to be ready. Your can never lower your guard.”
“But you’re stronger than me,” Ari huffed as she pulled herself from his grasp and scrambled to her feet.
“Yes, but strength isn’t everything. You need to be quick, you need to pay attention to what is happening around you. You need to be smarter and faster than your opponent.”
Ari looked at him more closely as she stood and straightened her shabby skirts. He was a broad-shouldered oaf, the loose tunic and breeches poorly disguising his muscular physique.
“Dance with me,” he commanded and stepped toward her.
“Dance?”
“Yes.” Lucan took her hands in his, hoisting one hand above the shoulders and one below the hips.
He started slow, teaching her to move with him. If he stepped back, she stepped forward. If he stepped forward, she stepped back. They practiced until she advanced to the point of anticipating his every move. When he stopped for a drink, she felt her muscles screaming.
“I’m tired,” she said after taking a drink of the mead he poured for her. “I was told you would bring me water.”
“I have water for you. But we’re not done yet.”
“What? My legs feel like jelly.”
“This is the most important time to train, Aaricia.”
Without warning, he lunged forward and grasped at her but she was too fast and the practice had been entrenched into every tendon now.
“Good,” he commended her. “You’re a fast learner. I was told you’re an orphan. Do you know anything about who your parents were?”
Ari shook her head as her chest heaved in ragged breaths. He had scared her with the test.
“That’s a shame. There’s something about you that seems so familiar. And your skill advances too quickly for a commoner.”
She snorted. “Maybe you don’t know that many commoners.”
Lucan laughed. “I like your fire. I need to show you one more movement to practice before I leave. Come closer, I won’t trick you this time. Extend your arm, as if to strike me.”
She did as he asked and his arm moved in a circular motion and pushed hers away before it could reach him.
“Now, strike at my stomach,” he commanded. The result was the same. She couldn’t get near him. “Finally, strike lower.”
Ari was uncomfortable, but she did as he asked knowing he would block it. Then, the footwork they had drilled in the hours before was added to striking and blocking with the arms.
At first, they worked slow but Ari again learned more quickly than he expected and the striking and blocking became more vigorous as her confidence rose.
“Enough,” Lucan said, panting heavily. Ari still trembled with excitement even as she s
weated through her rags. “I need you to practice all of this until I see you again tomorrow.”
“I can’t be seen practicing in the kitchen,” she protested.
“I was told you’re to remain here until the Queen orders otherwise.”
“A-alone?”
“You’ll be safe here. The darkness is your friend, Aaricia.”
She considered the implications and nodded farewell to him. He closed the door behind him and she listened as his footsteps faded down the passageway.
The darkness is your friend.
“It is,” she conceded in a whisper to the silent stone walls.
For several days they practiced in the dungeon. When Ari surprised Lucan and moved too fast for him to land a strike, he advanced her to sword training. First, he had her hold the sword in various positions until her muscles refused her will. The swords he brought were heavier than she imagined, but she listened to his every command and trained in every session with him until her body collapsed.
One day, he led her out of the dungeon. He insisted on complete darkness as they left. Instead of using torches to find the way, he held her hand in his and followed the wall. She heard his whispers as he counted his turns and passageways. His hand was warm and his touch gentle. She clasped it tightly, wishing briefly she didn’t have to let go.
When they emerged from the dungeon, daylight greeted Ari and she needed time to let her eyes adjust. Even gray skies were hard on her after near-constant darkness in the dungeon for what she guessed was a week. Lucan still held her hand and led her over the ground to where his horse waited. The black mare was massive in height and breadth, clearly bred to carry the weight of his armor and weapons in battle.
The mare sniffed at Ari’s hand when she held it out then nuzzled her palm. She couldn’t help but smile. Although she had seen plenty of horses, she had never touched one. Lucan kept their words few and instructed her to stay quiet since the King had been looking for her. Absently at first, the King had mused that maybe the whelp had finally died in her sleep. Then, in the past day, he had been asking the cooks and maids about her.
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