Rory had spent the evening telling Bethany of life among the Forest Folk. She was enchanted by the idea of living inside a huge tree in a place where it was always summer, even in the dead of winter. He told her about the pixies and how they would bring a person food or drink whenever they wanted some. She was scandalized by the bathing pools, but he could see she was also intrigued by such a concept. He told her about the friendly competition he had with the warriors and she laughed as he told her about some of their failed attempts to ambush him. And while he told her of the mages and the Heart, he did not tell her of Arianna other than she was one of those who taught him.
* * * *
As the feast started to draw to a close, King William glanced at the queen with a raised eyebrow. She understood his implied question and gave him a smile and a nod. The king stood and tapped his goblet with his dagger. The assembled court hushed.
"It is with great pleasure that we announce the betrothal of the Lady Bethany, daughter of the Earl of Sudcliffe, our chancellor, to Lord Rorrick, Heir of Westfell. Their wedding will be held at Westfell Keep in six months. Join me in a toast to the happy couple."
The court rose to their feet and raised their glasses toward Bethany and Rory. As they all shouted, “Hear, hear!” and drank in salute, Rory noticed that one glass was not raised. Rikard of Eastfell had instead poured his wine on the floor. The Duke of Solange whispered something to Rikard, but the young duke just glared at Rory with a look of cold, implacable hatred. As Rory raised his own goblet in acknowledgement of the toast, he noticed the faint presence of a powerful poison. He quickly used the Forces of Life to convert it to something safe, then said, “To King William and Queen Beatrice!” A small smile of amusement played across his lips as he watched Rikard of Eastfell fumble with his empty goblet during the toast to the royal family.
The next few hours were spent accepting the congratulations of all who were in attendance. The court all knew that Queen Beatrice treated Lady Bethany as if she were the daughter the queen never had. Only with the queen's consent could a match be made. They had all heard the stories of the Heir of Westfell and his bravery in battle against the fell creatures that had swarmed in Kendrahl. Even if the tales were exaggerated, there was enough truth to make the heir braver than anyone they knew.
At last the couple had a chance to make their way to the dais to speak with the king and queen. Rory suppressed a smile as he noted the king's Westfell trousers in scarlet with gold trim. “Your Majesties, thank you for all this."
"It is our pleasure, Lord Rorrick. Bethany is like our daughter and her happiness is important to us. Now, before anyone else corners you, I want you to slip out of here using the door behind this curtain. I'm sure you have some catching up to do."
Rory and Bethany bowed to the king and queen, and then slipped behind the curtain and out the hidden door. One of the King's Own, standing outside the door, pointed to the right and the pair slipped down the corridor. They soon found themselves alone on top of one of the interior walls in a stretch that held no guards because of its height and placement. Although the wall was part of the castle, it still was above the town and gave them an unimpeded view of the stars and the moon.
"Remember the last time we were together like this?” Bethany asked quietly. “I have relived that memory every night since then."
Rory pulled her close and used one hand to tilt her head back so he could look into her eyes. The moonlight seemed to pool in their sea-green depths and he bent his head to taste her lips once more. The kiss was slow and teasing, the lightest pressure of his lips against hers. She moaned in her throat and brought her lips into greater contact with his, then her tongue slipped between his lips.
When he lifted his head, she whispered, “If you had kissed me like that last time, we would have had even more memories. Kiss me again."
After several increasingly passionate kisses, they broke apart to regain their composure. Bethany said, “I should warn you that the Duke of Eastfell has been pursuing me relentlessly. I had to remove myself from the court for several weeks until he returned to Eastfell in order to avoid his ardent overtures."
"That would explain several things,” Rory said. “I looked for you a few times when I traveled the ley lines in spirit but could never find you here in the court. Since I do not know where your family estate lies, I couldn't look for you there."
"You said it explained several things."
Rory was silent for a moment. “During the betrothal toast, the Duke of Eastfell poured his wine on the floor rather than toast our happiness."
"I fear I have made an enemy of him for you,” Bethany said.
"My dear, don't worry about that. After fighting an ogre and scores of orcs, that little man holds no terror for me. Should he ever try anything with me, he will rue it."
"Don't underestimate his evil, Rory. He's not the kind who will come after you openly. He's more likely to hire another to stab you in the back,” Bethany said urgently.
"That has been tried before by the best elven warriors, Bethany, and none came close. And even if one slipped past my guard, it would not harm me.” Rory pulled open his silk shirt to reveal the mithrail beneath.
Bethany reached a delicate hand and stroked the silver mail. “It's so beautiful. I wondered why you felt so hard when we were kissing. I thought it was just muscle.” She slipped her hand inside the shirt along his ribs. “Do you always wear this shirt?"
"I will not wear it on our wedding night, Bethany, nor any other we share in the future,” Rory said, understanding her meaning.
She pulled him closer for an even deeper kiss and guided his hand to her breast.
* * * *
After escorting Bethany back to her room, Rory walked down the empty corridors back toward the rooms assigned to Westfell. His mind was filled with the memory of her lips and the silky feel of her breasts. He now knew his time with Arianna was truly in the past; he was beginning to yearn for the next six months to pass quickly.
Perhaps the fact he was in the castle accounted for his failure to extend his senses. Who expected to be attacked inside a building patrolled by the King's Own? His first inkling of danger was when the knife slammed into his back and bent against the mithrail. Rory reached back, grabbed the wrist that held the knife, and flipped the man over his head. As the man slammed down onto the floor, Rory placed his foot on the man's throat and the tip of his dagger against the man's left eye. “You just ruined a good shirt. Why don't you tell me why you would do such a thing?"
* * * *
Rory dragged his assailant into the King's Own guard room by one leg. Before the stunned captain could react, Rory said, “This man attacked me in the hallway while I was on my way to my rooms.” He threw the bent knife to the captain, who dropped it as if it were hot. “He failed to consider I might be wearing mail under my shirt."
"My lord, I don't know what to say!"
"I would suggest you think of something since I am sure King William will want to know how someone like this could get into his castle in the first place. Either your security is lacking or he had help. The Duke of Westfell will be curious to learn who was behind the attack, as am I."
"My lord, I will get you the answers you seek."
"You'd better, Captain,” Rory replied coldly.
* * * *
"I let you out of my sight for one evening in a castle filled with the best soldiers in the realm, and you still manage to find trouble,” Swiftstalker grumbled. “I hope you don't mind company, lad, because wherever you go from now on, I will be there watching over you."
"Now, Uncle, that will not be necessary,” Rory said, trying to placate the elven warrior. “You trained me well, and now I will be more alert. No one will get close enough to try this again."
"Of that you can be sure, lad."
Duke Richard said, “But who could be behind the attack? That is what concerns me the most."
"I have no doubt who was behind this, Grandfather. This was t
he opening move by the Duke of Eastfell."
"Eastfell? What does Eastfell have to do with this?"
"He wanted Bethany for himself, but she would have nothing to do with him. Even our pending betrothal did not lessen his desire for her."
"I saw his actions at the toast, Your Grace. He was very blatant in his disrespect,” Swiftstalker said. “I would not be surprised if we find Rory is right about who was behind this attempt on his life. With Rory dead, the king would have to consider Eastfell as a possible match for Bethany."
"We shall all have to be on our guard now,” Duke Richard said. “I think there is more to this than just a boy's anger of what he cannot have. There has been no news out of Eastfell for many months, and what little we have heard has not been good. Strange things have been happening in that duchy, and none of them are good for the realm."
Chapter 18
King William turned to the captain of the guard and said, “Exactly what happened, Captain? How did a prisoner under your care die before he could be made to tell us what we needed to know?"
"Sire, we had placed the prisoner in a dungeon cell for the night. When we went to collect him for interrogation, we found his throat had been slit. I regret to say that one of the guards on duty last night was also one of those covering one of the doors to the castle earlier in the evening. It would appear the guard let the assassin in and then killed him to prevent being identified,” the captain replied.
"Where is this guard now?” King William asked, angrier than most people had seen him in decades. “Where is this motherless bastard who sold his soul to betray his king?"
"He's dead, sire.” The captain looked even more uncomfortable now. “We found him at the base of one of the curtain walls this morning. He, too, had been murdered with a knife in the back and then thrown from the wall."
"We should be pleased that the betrayer was then betrayed, but we are not. His death prevents us from discovering who was behind the attack.” Looking over at Duke Richard, he said, “We know what you suspect, Duke Richard, but we cannot act on suspicion alone."
The king turned back to the captain. “Every man who was on duty last night is hereby relieved of all duties within the castle, including yourself. You will all report to the border keep nearest Solange and begin patrolling that area. We are gravely disappointed in you, Captain."
The captain went to one knee in submission to the king's will. “It will be done, sire.” He rose and backed from the room.
"This attempt on your heir, whatever its motivation, has impugned the honor of this court. For one of our guests to be attacked within our castle will make all wonder whether anyone is safe within these walls. There are those who will say that the involvement of that feckless fool of a guard must mean that the attack had our countenance.” King William fumed. “You must know we were not involved in this, Duke Richard."
"Of that I have no doubt, sire, and neither does my grandson. He knows how much love you bear Lady Bethany and that you would permit nothing which would make her unhappy."
The king sat down on his throne. “They do make a fine couple, don't they? Underneath that beautiful exterior is a fine mind, Richard, educated far beyond what is common for our women. She will be an asset for Westfell."
* * * *
Rory stared into the fireplace as he said, “So the assassin has been killed before he could speak. I'm not surprised, nor is the death of the suborned guard unexpected. Leaving such loose ends that could incriminate those above would be stupid, and I doubt Eastfell is stupid."
"Impulsive, perhaps, but not stupid,” Swiftstalker said. “A much wiser course would have been to let you wed and then kill you. That way, Bethany would also bring Westfell as a marriage dower to whomever the crown selected as her second husband."
"So you think I will be safe from further attacks for a while?"
Swiftstalker said, “We can assume nothing. The only safe approach is to believe that any one of us could be attacked at any moment, and act accordingly. We still may not carry our swords within the castle, except for when we are leaving or returning to it from outside the walls. We will continue to wear mail and bear our daggers, as is our right, and General Gustav has arranged a contingent of the duke's household guards to stand at the entrance to these rooms."
At that moment, one of those guards entered the room. “Your pardon, Your Grace,” he said to Duke Richard, “but there is a royal page outside to see Lord Rorrick."
"Send him in,” said Duke Richard.
The page, a lad of no more than twelve, entered the room and bowed to the duke. “I bear a summons for Lord Rorrick to call upon Queen Beatrice in her receiving room at once, Your Grace."
"You'd best be off, then, Rory. Take Swiftstalker with you or he will just follow you anyway,” Duke Richard said.
Swiftstalker smiled in acknowledgement of the accuracy of the duke's comment as they followed the page from the room.
* * * *
Rory went to one knee before the queen. “You asked to see me, Your Majesty?"
"Lord Rorrick, we have just heard about the attack upon you last night. We had to be sure you were unharmed."
"I am well, Your Majesty."
A door opened behind him and his senses identified Bethany by her scent as she rushed to his side. Throwing her arms around Rory's neck, she buried her face in his chest and sobbed, “I told you to be careful. I told you he would try to have you killed."
Patting her on the back in an effort to still her tears, Rory said, “There, there now. I'm not hurt. There's no need to make such a fuss in front of the queen, Bethany. I was in no danger."
She stepped back. “No danger! It must be untrue then that his knife bent as it struck your back, bouncing off that wonderful mail shirt you wear. Had you not been wearing it, the knife would have plunged through your heart!"
"But I was wearing it, Bethany, and I will always be wearing it. I promised you that I would, remember?” Rory took her hands. “Now calm yourself and apologize to the queen for this outburst."
It was then that Rory realized the queen had left the room, leaving the two of them alone. He drew Bethany into his arms. “It was partially your fault, you know."
"How was it my fault?” Bethany demanded.
"If I hadn't been thinking about your charms and your kisses, he would not have caught me so unaware."
Bethany blushed as she, too, recalled their passionate embraces of the previous evening. “Perhaps I should not kiss you or permit any more such liberties with my person if they make you so befogged, my lord."
"Nay, my lady, deny me not the pleasures of your lips and embrace else I become surly as an ogre and no longer fit company for this court."
"Oh, fie on your sweet words!” Bethany settled into his arms. “I would not deny myself the sweet feelings I get from your lips and hands. Kiss me once so I know you are truly well."
He kissed her as slowly and as deeply as he could, wishing they were truly alone enough for him to loosen her bodice and tease her passions once more. Her sigh as they parted gave evidence to her own secret wishes.
Someone was evidently watching them for no sooner had they broken away from their embrace than the queen returned to the room. “We are pleased you two have found one another so ... acceptable. It is rare that arranged marriages among noble houses begin so well. Usually, it becomes tolerable over time."
Bethany's eyes sparkled as she teased her queen. “Who do you think to fool, Your Majesty? The whole realm knows how much the king loves you and how much you love him in return. I spent too many hours outside your chamber door when the king came to visit you in the afternoons to think your marriage is merely tolerable!"
The queen laughed. “Bethany, child, you are the only person in the world aside from the king who can speak to me in such a manner. You are indeed the daughter of my spirit and my heart.” Turning to Rory, she said, “Lord Rorrick, why don't you take Lady Bethany for a walk outside to enjoy the beautiful weather? T
he royal gardens are in full bloom."
The engaged couple bowed to their queen and withdrew from the chamber. As the door closed behind them, Bethany said, “Would you really like to see the gardens, Rory, or would you rather go for a ride? Perhaps I could inveigle a picnic lunch from the cooks and we could eat beside one of the lakes nearby."
Rory said, “As intrigued as I am by the beauty of the royal gardens, I think a nice ride would be just the thing. I have neglected my horse since we arrived at the castle. Shall we meet in an hour?"
Bethany nodded happily and went off to arrange the lunch while Swiftstalker set off to arrange a suitable guard and get the stable boys to saddle the horses. Rory went to his rooms and debated about whether to wear his swords. While he did not think them needed for a lunch with his betrothed, it was better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them.
At the appointed hour, Rory escorted Bethany down the castle stairs to her mare. After helping her onto the horse, he quickly mounted Storm and came up beside her. One of the castle kitchen staff handed a basket of food up to Lady Bethany while another passed an even larger basket to the contingent of twelve Westfell guards who would be accompanying them on their ride.
Bethany eyed the group of guards ruefully. “So much for a romantic picnic lunch for two."
The pace the group made through the rings of the city could best be described as leisurely. Many of the townspeople stopped to stare as they went by for most knew Lady Bethany and had heard of Lord Rorrick. Seeing the tall young lord with his twin swords astride the equally large warhorse was like seeing a legend pass by. Half the guards moved to the front as they rode through the outer ring with its mean dirt streets, clearing a path for the noble pair to travel. Under Rory's orders, there were no threats or whips used to clear the way; a firm tone and a well maneuvered horse were enough to permit unimpeded passage.
Soon, they were riding through the open countryside of Aluria, a land of gentle rolling hills and wide areas of cropland. Here and there, small groves of trees dotted the land—some in fruit and others bearing nuts. In the distance, great stands of trees stood as the remnant of another Great Forest that once claimed Aluria. The sky, a bright blue dotted with small fluffy white clouds, was clear and a gentle breeze kept the day from being too warm. At a signal from Swiftstalker, the forward contingent moved farther in front while the rear guards dropped farther back, leaving the heir and his lady some privacy while they rode.
The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1] Page 19