“Birthday?”
I must have looked exceptionally blank, for he laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten? What female forgets her own party?”
“I’m having a party?”
“Ah, Dana. Forget I mentioned it.”
I nearly laughed at the confusion on his face. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, isn’t it?” His tongue was a natural hazard. No wonder Mother had gotten him a platoon and given him a coastline to patrol. “You really are a hopeless liar, Alden.” I took pity on his embarrassment. “Don’t worry,” I whispered, and tucked my hand into his elbow. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He patted my hand gratefully. “What’s this I’ve been hearing about you, little sister? You’ve turned into a wildcat.”
“I could fight you, brother, with one hand behind my back.”
“And win?”
I nodded.
“Oh-ho,” he slapped his thigh. “I wager a gold sovereign that you cry foul. Within five minutes.”
He spat on his hand and held out his palm. I grinned at him and spat into mine. We shook hands solemnly in the old way, the custom we’d had as children.
On the morrow, Owein arrived with his platoon. He took after Mother’s family, being shorter and stockier than Alden. He was more serious than Alden, too, less inclined to gossip. In many ways, I preferred him to my elder brother. He was more reliable. At least you could tell him a secret and not have it blurted around the Court within a day. Owein, being of a steadier nature, was affianced to the daughter of a nearby baron, and was building a house for her. They were to be married next summer.
“Are you here for my birthday too?” I asked.
“Birthday?” He looked surprised. “I’m here for the Festival, actually.”
“You don’t need to pretend. Alden told me of the party.”
“He would.” He measured me with his eyes. “You’ve grown.”
“You sound surprised.”
He smiled. “Older brothers always think their little sisters will stay exactly that.”
“Little?”
He nodded. “Not turn into an auburn-haired beauty.”
I wouldn’t have blushed if it was Alden; compliments tripped from his tongue like water from a fountain. That night when I stared at my reflection I wondered, what was beauty? What did Will see when he looked at me?
* * *
The next morning, Owein and Alden were both waiting for me at the sparring arena.
“Does Mother know you’re here?”
Alden smiled. “I didn’t tell her. Did you, brother?”
“I didn’t want to worry her.”
My normal sparring partners arrived, seemed relieved they weren’t to sacrifice themselves today, and arrayed themselves around the arena as audience. Some of Alden’s and Owein’s men came too. Wagers were passed – the odds seemed to be against me, which the Castle guards exploited, betting heavily.
Now, I had to win. While soldiers might take personal damage philosophically, as being part of the job, any damage to their purse would be viewed badly.
By mutual agreement we fought without weapons. With my brothers’ image of me as an annoying little girl, they found it hard to take me seriously. And they weren’t used to fighting without their lovely long lances or shiny armor. I had the advantage as soon as the Sergeant dropped the handkerchief.
The guardsmen roared their support.
It was easy to sweep my brothers’ legs out from under them, dance under their guard and punch them in the face. Alden, all brash bluster, was the easiest to dispose of. Owein, with his steadier temperament, was harder, but he was so much slower than Will that it wasn’t long before I kicked up under his guard and twisted his arm so he landed on his face.
“Enough!” he groaned.
“She’s formidable,” said Alden quietly. He’d dragged himself off to the corner of the sanded arena. A grinning guardsman wiped his face with a damp towel.
Owein twisted himself onto his back, and sat up with a groan. “How have you learnt this?”
“I had a good teacher.”
“I’d like to meet him,” said Alden. “Truly, this is remarkable. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Like you,” he added quickly. “I’ve never seen anything like you. That speed.”
“You should see Will, then. He’s twice as fast.” The ache twisted in my heart.
“That’s your teacher?” asked Owein. “Where is he?”
I shrugged. “Gone.”
Owein looked at Alden, and something seemed to pass between them. They asked no more questions.
* * *
The Firelight Festival occurred every three years at midsummer. When I was small I thought it was especially for my birthday. Of course, this was not the case; the Festival was much older than I. Originally, it had been a commemoration of a victorious battle. Rather pragmatically, it had been coupled with an opportunity for crop management. So the Festival was also a gathering of landowners and a grand plan for next year’s harvests: which fields would grow which plants.
Now, crop planning still occurred but mostly the Festival was a grand tourney, a celebration of summer and a week of dancing and general good cheer, when the borders of the Kingdom were opened to all manner of entertainers: mummers, jugglers, tightrope walkers. The highlight of the Festival was always the fireworks show.
Rosa’s tower guards seemed to be the only ones in the Castle not aware of the Festival. “Don’t really pay it much attention, do we, Greg?”
In their company I felt less the center of attention and more an actor in a recurring play. Where had they come from, what was their history? Were they brothers? It was hard to tell them apart. They both had aggressively short hair and stubble on their chins. Both were tall and broad with deep voices.
“Oh no, Lady,” they said, their voices identically horrified. “Not related at all.”
“Well, how long have you been here?” I asked Reginald (or was it Gregor?). He looked confused. “On the doorstep, do you mean, Miss?”
I shook my head. “No. Guardsmen.”
“All our lives, Miss.”
Gregor, or Reginald, chimed in. “Started as boys, Miss. Long time ago, that was.”
“Aye. Before you were born, Miss,” the other man chuckled.
“Do you live in the tower?” I asked. “Because I’ve not seen you anywhere else in the Castle.”
“Aye. Live in the tower, we do, Miss.”
“That’s different to the other guards,” I said.
“Aye,” said Reginald, or Gregor. “Well, it would be, wouldn’t it? We serve the Guardian.”
“So you won’t be going to the Festival?”
A shake of the head. “Not unless the Guardian bids us.”
“An’ she won’t,” said the other. “Not our sort of thing, is it, Greg? All that noise, all them people.”
“Aye. We likes it quiet,” said Greg in a deep voice that echoed off the thick stone walls.
In the tower, Rosa was wearing the necklace. I hated seeing it on her, the bright gems that flashed in the sunlight, sparking rainbows around the room and dazzling my eyes. The great ruby rested on her heart, moved with her chest as she breathed roughly. Her voice wheezed in the quiet room.
“Are you well?” I asked. She seemed too short of breath to answer. “It’s getting to you, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“Take it off then,” I said harshly. I hoped for a miracle, a last-minute reprieve from my fate. But to do that, I needed her to be strong, for how could I live with my freedom if I doomed the Kingdom to be without a Guardian? Someone else could be trained, though, if I wasn’t here.
She smiled. “There is no one else, Dana. Only you and I have the power to manage this thing.”
“Can you?”
“What?”
“Can you manage this thing?”
“For a while,” she whispered, rubbing her chest. “D
on’t worry. You have some time.”
Ah, but how long?
* * *
Seated at his desk, Daddy stared out the window, as though searching for escape. Like me, he had no choice in what his life would be.
He started when I entered. “Dana!”
I smiled. “You were miles away.”
“I was,” his expression was rueful. He held out his hand. “How are you?” His fingers were dry, the skin cracking into black lines.
“You’ve been digging again.”
He smiled. “I was born to be a farmer. I’ve been out around the fiefs with Owein. Checking their crops.”
“On a gelding?”
He smiled. “A mare.” A standing joke of my brothers. Our father, the King, who never rode stallions.
“You’ve been visiting the barons? What for?”
“I wanted to check what the boys had been doing.”
“You’re checking on Alden and Owein?”
Daddy nodded. “Of course. My father inspected my actions, as I inspect those of my sons.”
“What was your father like?”
“Well, he was very different from me. He thought I was quite unsuitable for the role.”
“But you’re a good king.”
He smiled. “Thank you. That’s kind of you, considering.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “for my temper.”
“Oh my dear,” he said gently, “that’s quite all right.”
We turned when we heard footsteps on the stone staircase. “That’s Alden now.” Another set of feet, slower and heavier. “And that’ll be Owein. I’ve always been able to tell their steps apart, even when they were small.”
“Do you want me to leave?” I asked.
“Actually,” he sounded surprised that he’d not thought of it earlier, “it might be useful to have the Guardian here.”
“I’m not the Guardian,” I snapped and turned to go, but Alden was at the door and blocked my way.
“Careful, Father,” his eyes were wary. “She’ll draw a knife on you.”
“You’re just a sore loser.”
“Sore being the right word,” added Owein. “Hello, Father.” Holding his back, he staggered into the room and collapsed in a chair.
“My goodness,” said Daddy mildly. “What happened to you?”
“She did.” Owein nodded at me.
“She happened to both of us,” Alden sprawled in the other chair.
“Is no one going to offer me a seat?” I asked.
Alden waved at the door. “Dear sister, after yesterday I think of you as a man. Go find your own chair. I am too bruised to move.”
“Take mine Dana,” said Daddy. “I prefer to stand anyway. What’s the news, boys?”
It didn’t seem right, taking the chair of the King, even if he was my father, but he stared at me until I shrugged and sat.
Alden yawned. “The northern coastline is quiet. We had some bad storms last winter and the moorings at Creek’s Head needed repair. The Cammar Beacon will need replacing soon. That’s about it.”
“The western coast had the same storms,” added Owein, “but wasn’t as badly hit.”
They spoke about crops and storm damage and farmer compensation, while I listened, amazed; I’d never thought my brothers were good for anything but flirting and jousting. I hadn’t realized they actually served a useful rather than a decorative purpose. It was pleasant, sitting in my father’s study, listening to deep voices discuss the small happenings of the Kingdom.
A breath in my ear, a stone in my heart; suddenly the Guardian spoke to me, destroying the moment like a roaring gale ripping through a sunny day. “Ask about the strange ships,” whispered Rosa.
Was she always listening to me? Didn’t I have any privacy?
I asked about the strange ships.
“Strange ships?” Alden sounded surprised. “Oh yes. There was something. Fishermen from Creek’s Head were blown off course in a storm. They reported some unusual-looking vessels moored in a bay in Less Brittain.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Daddy.
“Well, you don’t usually want to know everything. And I didn’t think this was important.”
“What do you mean by ‘strange’?” Owein asked.
“The fishermen said they were huge. Eight or nine masts.”
“Nonsense! That’s impossible’
“Well, that’s what they said,” Alden said defensively. “Like a forest floating above the waves.”
“And have these ships been seen again?” my father asked.
“No. Not that I know of.”
He frowned “I don’t like this. Twenty ships of that size – they could carry near on thousand men.”
“It’s probably just a trading fleet,” said Owein. “Less Brittain gets them all the time.”
“Perhaps, but traders don’t use large ships.” Daddy said. “They’re not economical. Are you sure that you got the size right, Alden?”
“The men I spoke to were very clear. Nine-masted ships, enormous things, twice as long as any whale.”
“Did they say anything else about them?”
“Their shape was unusual,” Alden said. “A blunt-nosed prow, high stern. They didn’t get too close. They said it was a remote bay, far from normal trading routes.”
“I don’t see why you’re worried,” said Owein. “Probably this fleet was sheltering from the storm, too.”
“Perhaps,” my father rubbed his chin. “But a fleet of enormous ships so close, well, that makes me nervous. After the Festival, we’ll increase the guards on the coastline. And Alden? Commandeer a couple of sloops and send them out on reconnaissance.”
Alden nodded.
“Dana,” Daddy said.
I looked up in surprise. What could I do?
“Tell the Guardian about this. She’ll need to start searching out those ships.”
“Oh, she already knows,” I said.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A Performing Dog
Dressing the Castle in Festival clothing seemed to take a great deal of banter. Guards, commandeered by the housekeeper, appeared to enjoy being bossed around by women half their size and moved the bunting and other decorations with sly grins and winks.
“You can dress my tower any time, Miss,” said one fellow and ducked when the chambermaid, armed with a long-handled duster, took a swipe at him.
Streamers and long strings of multi-colored pennants hung from the topmost part of the towers of the outer keep, rustling in the breeze like the wings of many birds. Brightest of all was the gold and red royal standard that flew from the upper gatehouse. Across the moat, flags and swathes of bright fabric were planted along the roadside and threaded through the trees. Bells hung between them, and at night I lay awake with my window open, listening to their tinkling. Only the great tower of the inner keep, Rosa’s eyrie, remained unadorned.
All this was traditional; the Castle was decorated in this manner every Festival. But this season Daddy, nervous after the report of strange ships, had been adamant that one thing would be different. “I want no bunting along the drawbridge.”
“But, dear,” said Mother, “decorating the drawbridge adds a nice, welcoming touch.”
Seated on a stool by her feet, I tried to remain calm while they talked over the last minute plans for tonight’s ball. Tonight was the beginning of the Festival, the start of the week of entertainment that drew nobles and commoners alike to the Castle and my mother had commanded my presence in her salon. I didn’t want to be here. It was boring.
“Cyrilla, I want to be able to close it if I need to.”
Mother looked at him doubtfully, but when the housekeeper arrived, she relayed the command without comment. Then Ruth arrived, and Daddy managed to escape. But I had to remain while Mother and Ruth discussed important matters, such as my hairstyle and mother’s skin.
“And did you speak to the merchant?”
“He has more cream to tr
ade, Your Majesty.”
“And he will come? I would love to meet him.” Mother lifted the skin around her eyes, staring at herself in the mirror. “It is like a miracle cure, Ruth.” She caught my sulky expression in the mirror.
“Please can I go now?” I moaned.
“Yes, run along dear. Ruth will bring you your dress later.”
Ruth delivered my clothing that evening.
“Oh, wonderful,” I said, as she carefully removed the tissue from the frothing silk. “Pink satin! It’ll match my hair.” I held it up against me and made a face at my reflection. “Now I look like a real princess.”
“I’m to do your hair too, Lady,” said Ruth.
Nurse drew herself up to her full five feet. “I am Lady Dana’s personal attendant. I should be the one to dress her hair.”
“Nurse, you’re an angel,” I said hastily, “but Mother told Ruth to do this.”
She deflated. “Oh. Well. If the Queen commanded it, then who am I to argue?”
“Ruth,” I asked, as she brushed my hair, “what merchant was Mother speaking of?”
“She’s found a new face cream, Lady,” she said grimly. “What with you growing up and turning out to be a beauty and all, she’s worried about her age.”
Me? A beauty?
She smiled at me in the mirror. “Don’t look surprised, Lady. You must have noticed.”
N’tombe stirred, releasing herself from whatever statue-spell she used. “You spoke of a cream? This is for her face?”
Ruth began pulling my hair together in a ponytail. She spoke through the pins in her mouth. “Aye. Like magic, it is. Gets rid of all the lines and wrinkles. Expensive, mind.” She winked at me. “Not for the likes of me.”
“I like you the way you are,” I said, ignoring Nurse’s jealous sniff.
I hugged the edge of the ballroom until Mother spotted me and sent Owein to drag me onto the dance floor. I danced with Owein, then with Alden, all the while hearing murmured comments. Isn’t it a shame? and Too pretty for a tower.
“Are you all right?” asked Owein.
“I’m hot,” I plucked at my bodice, trying to lift it off my sweating skin. Mother was speaking animatedly to a distinguished ancient, all white wig and lace cuffs. “Quick! Before she sees us!”
The SoulNecklace Stories Page 22