Fire And Ice (Book 1)

by Wayne Krabbenhoft III

  After another morning spent in conversation, Coran wondered how women could find so much to talk about, and a brief lunch, Willa suggested they watch her brother in the practice yard. The others agreed quickly for the distraction.

  The yard was almost identical to the one at Summerhall except slightly larger. A bench ran across one wall with a few discarded towels scattered across its surface. The next wall was lined with racks that held wooden practice blades and long staffs. A half dozen men stripped to the waist, sweat standing out on their chests and backs, moved about the yard in pairs. The skill of the sparrers and the lack of any instructors told Coran that this yard was reserved for those who had already achieved their knighthood, or guardsmen finished with their initial training.

  Rob’s current opponent was of the same size as him, but not of the same skill. Within a few moments the Prince had the man disarmed and on the ground. Rob stretched out a hand to help him up, then patted the man’s shoulder companionably. The loser went to the bench as Rob looked up to see them watching. He flashed one of his winning smiles in Katelyn’s direction. Coran thought that the Prince smiled far too much.

  “Coran!” Rob called up to him. “How about a bit of sport?” He lifted his wooden blade in explanation.

  Normally, as a guest, he would not think it such a good idea, but the way Rob smiled set his teeth on edge. “I think a bit of sport is a wonderful idea.”

  Katelyn caught the look on his face and grabbed his arm before he reached the stairs leading down to the yard. “Coran!” she began, a little louder than she intended. She looked at the others before going on in a softer voice. “You are not going to hurt him.” It was not a question. She watched him train on many occasions and knew the level of his skill.

  “Hurt him?” he replied innocently, “why would I do that?”

  She put her fists on her hips and by her face he could tell she didn’t believe him. “I know you do not like him.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because of the way you keep looking at him.”

  Was it that obvious? “I will not hurt him,” he told her.

  “I am not sure what you two are talking about, but if you think you can beat my brother you should know that he is better than he just showed,” Willa informed them. Katelyn’s voice must have carried louder then she thought. “He was just going easy on Petr.”

  “You do not know Coran,” Katelyn said as she released her grip on his arm.

  Coran left them talking as he took the stairs down with easy steps. He reached the yard and crossed the court to where the wooden blades hung in order from smallest to largest. He picked out one that was the size of his real sword, then went to the center of the yard where Rob waited patiently.

  “Ready?” Rob asked, moving into the proper stance. He sounded a little amused. If it was for his opponent, then the Prince should think again.

  “Ready,” Coran responded evenly. He was calm. Emotions clouded movement and allowed mistakes to happen.

  The Prince advanced, Coran waited unmoving. Rob attacked and the blades met with a loud crack. They moved about each other with a deadly grace. One attacking, then defending. Coran had to admit that Rob was quite good, but it was not enough to keep his blade from finding flesh several times. He did not strike hard, but it was still enough for Rob to grunt. Coran remained untouched as the Prince gained what would become fresh bruises from his chest to just above his knees. The Prince of Westland finally accepted the inevitable, and raised his hand for Coran to stop. “I yield,” Rob said, breathing heavily. A smile came to his lips, but it was not his usual one. This time it was more wry. “I hope to never face you when you are angry.”

  “I am angry,” Coran said and was surprised to find it true. He had been upset, but he didn’t think it had gone as far as anger. Maybe that was why Katelyn had warned him. But if she knew he was angry with Rob, why didn’t she say anything about it sooner?

  Robert looked confused at first. He glanced up to where his sister stood watching intently with Katelyn and Alys. The glance was for Katelyn. “I wondered why you did not seem to like me.”

  “It is not that,” Coran responded, then realized that was not entirely true. “Well not exactly. Let us just say that that smile of yours can be irritating to some.”

  Rob nodded seriously. “I will try to control myself.” The confused look was still there. “Did the Lady Katelyn not tell you that I had already decided to choose her sister? That is, if Margery will have me.”

  It was Coran’s turn to be confused. “No, she did not.”

  “Strange,” Rob commented. Then he shook his head to put it out of his mind. “I hope that you will no longer think ill of me?”

  Coran laughed and put a hand to the man’s shoulder as he suddenly realized he could not think of one good reason to dislike this man. “I think I am going to like you after all.” The new friends went to the benches to wipe away the sweat. With a towel in hand Coran looked to his charge. She was watching them with a great deal of interest. It was obvious she wanted to know what they had said. Coran was inclined to let her wait before finding out.

  That night they arranged the furniture so they could all sit down and talk together. Coran did not scowl once. He noticed that Rob was indeed trying to curb his smiling. Both things made Katelyn look at him even more often. He could guess what she was thinking. Why are they all of the sudden acting like old friends? What did they say to each other? She was chewing her lip in frustration.

  After awhile Coran excused himself and went to an adjoining room where one door led to the King and Queen’s private chambers. He took the second door that opened out onto a small, rounded balcony. Unlike many other cities built by Midians, Westhaven was not built on a hill. The level he was on was not high enough for him to see much of the city beyond the inner wall that separated the palace courtyard from the rest of Westhaven. He could see the torches that lighted the outer wall and towers.

  He raised his head to look at the familiar stars and tried to put his thoughts in order. He was ready to admit that he liked Rob now that everything had been straightened out. Katelyn was another matter. Something was going on there. Why did she not tell him about Rob and Margery? Or about Rob and her? Maybe she did not think it mattered to him, and why should it? He stopped that line of thinking immediately. He had no idea why it should matter except he thought that Rob was treating Margery poorly by pursuing Katelyn. That was the only reason and nothing else.

  Moving on from that topic, he was concerned about Willa. After the sparring session with Rob she had looked at him in a certain way that made him feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t be sure, but he was afraid that she might be thinking of him in ways other than a friend. He hoped that he was wrong. He could be. Since returning to Summerhall he was starting to realize how little he really knew about women.

  Finally, he considered once again why Stemis had chosen him. There were others with more experience in protection if there should be a need, and in diplomacy with dealing with people from the other kingdoms. A clue might be that the King had to assume that Torvilin might be here. Even before Coran had told his father about the Voltian’s leaving, Stemis had increased the guards on the escort. So was he supposed to deal with Torvilin while he was here or was it just a precaution? And why him? The only reason he could come up with was that Coran was younger and might be able to deal with Torvilin more freely. A more experienced man might be more likely to let King Robert handle any difficulties that arose, since he was the host. After all, who else would have punched a visiting prince during a banquet? If that was true, then he was being used to get rid of the Voltian problem. Not that he minded very much, but again he had to wonder why it was so important.

  He tried to recall some of the reasons he thought of before, only one kept coming to mind. A chill ran through him as he became more certain of it. If he was right, Torvilin could not be allowed to marry Katelyn, no matter the cost. The true purpose of his assignment wa
s becoming clear. If Torvilin showed up he would have to confront him. He might not have a better opportunity, with both of them on neutral ground. The more he thought about it the more he had to give Stemis a mental bow.

  He was suddenly aware of a presence coming onto the balcony behind him. He knew who it was without looking and was the first to speak. “Looking for some fresh air Your Highness?”

  “Actually, I was looking for you.” Katelyn came forward to stand next to him at the wide, marble railing. “I am glad to see that you are becoming friends with the Prince. You wouldn’t care to tell me why the sudden change?”

  “Let me just say I found his overbearance offensive and told him to stop it.”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  “I know,” he said and remained quiet until it was obvious she was not going to speak. “Why did you let me go on thinking he was treating Margery poorly when he had no such intention?”

  She was taken aback by his words and it took her a moment to respond. “I did not know you would think of it that way,” she said contritely. “I am sorry.”

  “Forget it,” he told her. He suddenly felt bad for doubting her. She hadn’t even considered what he might think of it. Of course that did not explain why she knew he would be angry with Rob and didn’t say anything. He was more confused than before.

  That was enough thinking for one night. Since he didn't want to think about it anymore, and since she was maintaining a thoughtful silence, one that just seemed to point out that awkwardness again, he made a suggestion. “Why don’t we go back in?” he said and followed her back inside. He may be at a loss concerning Katelyn’s behavior, but he had a better understanding of why he was sent here.

  The fourth day, and the last day before the tournament, followed the same pattern as the previous days. The only real difference was the new arrivals. Torvilin had entered the city about midday and took rooms in one of the city’s finer inns. The other arrival was a weary looking Devon. His horse looked worn out as well. Apparently, he had not wanted to miss the tournament so had ridden hard to get here in time. His father probably insisted. Devon’s father did not want his son hampered by his own weakness, so routinely encouraged his son’s trips. That just made Devon more concerned for his father’s wishes and guilty when he was absent from home, even though it was his father’s wish.

  Coran didn’t inform Devon of what he had figured out concerning Torvilin. He was sure that his friend would take action himself and that could ruin his own plans. It was still nice to have him there with him.

  Naras scanned the ragged crowd in the dim light of the tavern’s interior. He sat at a wobbly table that held two cups on its pitted, stained surface. Satisfied that no one was close enough to hear he leaned towards his partner. “Is everything set?”

  “Just like you said,” the big man, Urik, replied, “but I do not understand. I thought we were supposed to hit him with the arrow, not kill him?”

  Naras sighed at the man’s simplicity. ”That is what we are going to do.”

  “But you wanted me to hire men to kill him?” Urik’s face scrunched up as he tried to reason it out.

  “Yes, the Voltian does not want him to reach Summerhall alive.”

  Urik looked even more confused. “Listen,” Naras said with more patience than he felt. “We were hired to hit him with the arrow. We are going to. We were hired to have him killed. We have taken care of that as well. When I am paid for a job I do it. If the two things work against each other that isn’t my problem, now is it?”

  Urik scratched his beard. “The boss won’t like it.”

  “That‘s why we hired someone else to take care of the killing. No one has to know it was us.”

  A slow smile appeared on Urik’s face. Then he laughed loudly. A man in a moth eaten coat looked over at the sound of laughter and looked away quickly after seeing Naras’ stern face.

  Chapter 8

  The Mountain and the Hawk

  Katelyn awoke in the spacious bedroom she was using during her stay in Westhaven. The window curtains were open and sunlight flooded the room. She threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. Today was the day of the tournament. She had always looked forward to tournaments with a great deal of anticipation. The armored men with their coats of arms, the horses as they surged across the field, and the impact that occurred when two combatants met, would all come together today with the cheering of the crowd to create a grand display for the pleasure of all. The exceptions were the Knights who would be carried from the field on litters. There were always casualties. But that would not dampen her spirits today.

  Hoping that she was not late, she picked out a dark yellow dress with white flowers down the sleeves and across the front, then dressed quickly. That done she picked up a wood-handled brush and ran it through her long, dark hair while standing before a tall, silver-framed mirror.

  She thought about what she had figured out the night before while lying in bed. She berated herself again for not realizing it sooner. She was so happy to find out that Coran was coming along that she neglected to ask herself why. It took learning of Torvilin’s arrival here in Westhaven for the pieces to click in place in her mind. It was like one of those puzzles that people gave to children, where irregular shaped pieces had to be put together to form a box. But they would only go together in a certain way. She was going to have a few words to say to her father about using people. Or, at least, about using certain people. What he was doing made sense of course. Coran was one of the few who might be able to match the Prince’s skill. Then there was the question of who else would dare? She hoped that nothing happened to him. If he got hurt she did not know what she would do. Maybe nothing would happen while they were here. She was sure that her father would not have told Coran why he was there. Coran probably did not know, but then again he always could surprise people by what he knew.

  Thinking of him again, she shook her head at her own folly. How could I have stooped so low as to try to make him jealous? She had seen other young ladies while she was growing up use that trick and some worse ones to try and trap a particular young man, and had promised herself that she would never do something as despicable as that. But when Rob had told her he had already decided on Margery she conveniently forgot to mention it to Coran, especially after seeing his face when she talked to the Prince. To find out that he wasn’t even jealous just made her feel that much more the fool. “What am I going to do about him?”

  “About whom?” someone said from behind her.

  Katelyn spun around to see Alys entering her room from the sitting room beyond. The young woman wore a similar dress of dark green with pale yellow along the sleeves and front.

  “Nothing,” she told her quickly.

  Alys just stood there looking at her as if uncertain if she should speak about something. She opened her mouth once and closed it again before finally talking. “You mean Lord Coran?”

  Katelyn sighed. She couldn’t keep anything from Alys. In the short time they had been together the two of them were becoming close. Alys also seemed to have this ability to know what she was thinking. “I do not know what to do about him. He hardly notices me. All he sees when he looks at me is a duty he has to perform.”

  Alys smiled knowingly. “He notices you. Believe me. He notices you every time you step into a room, and he sees much more than duty when he looks at you.” She stepped around the bed, took the brush from Katelyn’s hand and continued brushing her hair. “You know him better than anyone. You told me that you grew up with him.”

  “I suppose so, but it hasn’t done me much good so far.” She was afraid she had made matters worse. At first she thought he might be angry at her for not saying anything about Rob, but yesterday he hadn’t acted angry. Only there was this feeling of awkwardness between them and she didn’t know if it was just from her or from him too, and she didn’t know what it meant.

  Alys was silent for a moment as she thought. “If someone else wanted to know how to b
est approach him what advice would you give them?”

  Katelyn never thought of it that way before. All of a sudden she realized what to do, and what she had done wrong. “I would say to tell him straight out how you felt and not to play any games. The exact opposite of what I did,” she groaned.

  “You are referring to your attempt to make him jealous?” Alys asked her, finished with the brush, and put it on a nearby dresser adjacent to the bed. “I would not worry about that. But now you know what not to do?”

  “Was it that obvious?”

  “No. I just had a feeling that is what was going on.”

  Katelyn sighed. “So what do I do now?”

  “Take your own advice. You know what not to do now?”

  “Yes,” she replied. She just wished she knew what to do. That was when she remembered they had to be somewhere and turned to Alys. “Are we late?” she asked.

  “No. The Queen said for us to join her in half an hour. Then we will all go to the tournament together. That was about twenty minutes ago, so we have a little time left.”

  Katelyn relaxed a bit, glad she had not kept anyone waiting. She needed to relax while she could. This was going to be an exciting day, and a nervous one with Torvilin here. Suddenly she had an idea how to start being a little more direct with Coran.

  Coran stood in the middle of the striped tent which was pitched in the middle of a number of similar tents on the south side of the tournament field. The field was located in the northwest quarter of the city. Unlike other cities where tournaments were held outside the walls in order to have enough room, here the field had been incorporated into the city’s original design.

  A man in livery helped him strap on the heavy armor that the King had made for him. It took a while to get used to the bulk so he had arrived early to give it time to settle about his shoulders. The man wrapped the heavy sword belt about his waist and buckled it, then placed Coran’s sword into the sheath. Though swords were not part of the joust as they once were it was expected. Steel gauntlets were slipped over his hands and the man then handed Coran his shield. The armor and shield were polished black and a great silver hawk was embossed on the front of the shield. His helper finished lacing up the sides of his sur coat that also bore the hawk. Clanging footsteps announced Devon who wore shining silver armor and shield bearing a tree with spreading branches. Another tree also decorated his white sur coat.