by Rachel James
They soon reached the village just outside Cynehofa Palace. Odi greeted Niall with a firm embrace.
“I heard you disappeared. Hope you have an excuse prepared.”
“I’m working on it.” Niall gestured to his companion. “This is Cabal.”
Odi’s face wrinkled at the sight of him. “A Rivalyn guard, no less.” He opened the door to his hut. “Well, come inside, before they see you.”
Odi sorted out Cabal with a simple hose and tunic and confiscated his sword. “Civilians are not permitted weaponry at Cynehofa,” he said.
Cabal scowled. “I cannot rescue the praefect without a blade of some description. I carry a dagger around my ankle. Let me have that, at least.”
“Very well.” Odi sent Niall a knowing look. “So, you are helping the Rivalians now?”
Niall nodded.
“I knew we’d not keep you for long. If anyone asks for an account of your whereabouts, you say that you have been on my errands. No one will question that. They might consider me an old fool, but no one dares argue with me, at least.”
Niall said to Cabal, “Odi is the former tutor and later counsel of King Eadward. He and his wife live outside the palace out of choice, not necessity.”
The older man shrugged. “We like our own space, ’tis all. Besides, we wouldn’t have been able to care for you, in your time of need, if I had been inside the walls.”
Niall quickly changed the subject. “What word have you of Eadward’s death?”
Odi’s posture sagged a little more, his shoulders stooping over like a bird hiding under its wing. “They claim it was poison. And even though it is a woman’s weapon, anyone could have done it. Druce blames the Shieldoks and they blame Lady Alys. In any case, there is no proof, and therefore no such trial can take place.”
“So where is the praefect?”
“In the underground chamber, along with the handmaiden and their soldiers.”
“What about the Shieldoks?”
“No one dares challenge them. Although they have taken their quarrel elsewhere, I am glad to add.” He shook his head. “I never understood how brother can fight against brother.”
“Each vies for the kingship of Dyrah?”
“Aye, although the queen is adamant, she rules in Eadward’s place.” He turned to Cabal. “If you are ready, we should head for Cynehofa.”
Niall loaded up a borrowed wagon with general food supplies, and with Cabal in the back, they passed through the palace gates with no trouble at all. They headed for the underground cells.
Cabal unsheathed his dagger at the sight of two guards at the entrance.
Niall studied their exit routes. “I’ll go first, they know me and won’t be expecting anything. Got my back?”
Cabal nodded.
As hoped, the guards were unaware of Niall’s intentions. As he neared them, he dropped the tray he was carrying. Suitably distracted, he grabbed the sword from the soldier’s belt and held it to his neck. The other soldier froze. Cabal dug his blade to the man’s throat.
“Do not make a sound,” Niall warned them, as he entered the chamber.
Druce kneeled in the corner, his head bowed in prayer. The handmaiden cradled her knees, visibly shivering. Niall glanced around the cell. “Where are the Rivalyn soldiers?” He dug the sword closer to the guard’s neck.
“Executed,” the man spluttered.
Druce opened his eyes, alarmed until he saw Cabal behind him. “Thank God… you are here to take us home, aren’t you?”
“Aye, sir. Your daughter sent us.”
He sighed with relief. “She is well?”
“Aye,” Niall replied, as he bound the soldiers’ mouths.
“We’ve not long before the guards are missed,” said Niall. “You two must get in their uniforms so we can leave unseen.”
Cabal stared at the men on the floor with disgust. “I’m half a foot taller than them, their clothes won’t fit.”
“Count it a blessing you’re not on parade,” Niall said, dryly. “Come, ’tis no contest. If you’re quick, no one will notice.”
Cabal growled but didn’t protest further. Niall resisted the smile which begged to form. Cabal’s tunic was a little short, his long arms protruding beyond the sleeve’s length. Still, they hardly had time for a dress fitting.
Niall helped Druce into his armour. “Are you ready, my lord?”
The praefect seemed to hesitate but followed them regardless.
“Cabal, you and the praefect go first. Wait for us at Odi’s, and I will follow with the girl shortly.”
Niall held his breath as Druce and Cabal marched along the courtyard and through the palace gates. To his relief, they left safely.
He unbound the girl’s hands and helped her to her feet.
“Where are we going?” whispered the maid.
“To your lady’s chambers. I assume her belongings are still there?”
“Aye, but she has more at Ryvilla...”
“I noticed she kept a sword. I expect this is of immense value to her.”
Her eyes grew larger. “That she does, but how could you know...?”
“I would imagine something like that is irreplaceable, a family heirloom perhaps... We will fetch it before we leave.”
With relief, they reached the chamber, and no one was around to challenge them.
The maid bustled over to one of the chests and pulled out a sword wrapped in fine purple fabric.
“May I?” He uncovered the weapon and balanced it in his hand. It was smaller than a typical man’s and lighter. He swung it swiftly, whipping the air with ease. “Ancient Rivalyn steel,” he muttered. “There is none other like it.”
“It was a gift for her eighteenth birthday.”
Glad of its small size, he slipped it around his waist. “Come, we must leave with much haste. Here, change into one of your lady’s clothes, put on a cloak and raise your hood.”
The night was darkening, but not enough to disguise he was walking with a woman. Still, they made it to the stables with no questioning. “Hide yourself in the wagon and do not make a sound.”
He made his way through the courtyard and toward the gate which, to his alarm, was now closed.
He glanced up at the men on patrol. He recognized a few of them but did not know them by name.
“Didn’t you just come in?” yelled the watchman.
Niall didn’t answer.
“Where are you going with those supplies? Trading is over.”
“These are for Odi.”
“What is the old man up to now?” asked another.
A guard came down to inspect the goods. Niall placed his hand on the pommel of the sword, ready to strike.
“There’s a woman!” shouted the guard.
“Don’t touch her,” warned Niall. He lowered his voice. “Odi would appreciate your discretion, eh? After all, he has a reputation to uphold.”
The soldiers jeered and opened the gates, and Niall let out a shaky breath. That was close.
“My lady,” announced the steward, “you are needed at the gate.”
Alys sucked her finger at the pain of stabbing herself, yet again. She was better at wielding a sword than trying to point a needle through a shred of fabric. Perchance it was because the very exercise bored her so.
She jumped at the chance of leaving her chamber and followed the man outside. “Is there news?” She scaled the stone steps which lead to the platform above the gatehouse. Her heart leaped at the sight of the group which headed toward their estate. They were still some distance away and she could only see the small figures, with no distinguishing features. “I count three on horseback, plus a wagon.” Her pulse quickened. “Is it them do you think?”
“’Tis likely. A Shieldok party would be larger. You may wish to make preparations.”
Not really, no. She wanted to stand here until she knew for sure it was them. But, resignedly, her duties pulled her elsewhere. She first started toward the kitchen and aler
ted the cook that supper would be required for additional guests. She then headed for her mother’s chamber. “Mama get ready. Father’s return is near.”
Mother’s face shot-up. “Then we’ve not a moment to lose.” She studied her profile. “This will not do, Alys. Change into a clean robe, and I’ll fix your hair.”
Alys clenched her jaw. What was wrong with her hair? She darted for her chamber and stared into the looking glass. Admittedly, she was a touch on the wild side without her trusty handmaiden to tend to her. Alys had no time for such trivialities. So what are a few strands of stray hair? Tucking a dark auburn curl behind her ear, she took a comb to tease out the knots. She’d never had the patience to braid her own locks, so long and free it would be. Besides, she was not yet wed. She did not have to wear it up like her mother.
Sighing again, she obeyed Mama’s commands and changed out of her dark grey tunic and instead into a green silk gown, with gold embellished lacing to the front.
Fit for a princess.
She squashed the notion to the back of her mind. She was not ready to deal with such contemplations yet. Forgetting to return to her mother, she dashed into the courtyard, just as the palace gates opened.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her father, his deep brown hair had whitened a little more. She could not wait for him to dismount, and ran over to him, relishing in his embrace. She allowed the tears to fall down her cheeks, these recent events had taken their emotional toll on her. “I thought...”
He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I am well. My only concern was for your safety. After you escaped that night I did not know if...” He scanned her up and down. “You are wounded?”
“Aye, but well bandaged.” She lowered her tone, “I’ve been confined to my quarters.” Her scowl provoked raucous laughter from her father.
“That would never do,” came a female voice from the wagon.
“Ariana?” She could scarce believe her eyes. “God be praised, you are well?”
“Aye, my lady, and in need of a hearty meal, I can tell you.”
She ran over to her handmaiden and embraced her. Today was a marvellous day indeed.
Her father cleared his throat. “Come, let us feast. We can talk later. My weary bones must rest.”
Alys glanced at the two other men who rode with her father. “What of our other soldiers?”
Druce shook his head.
She sighed and caught the eye of the driver from the previous night. He was certainly no ordinary manservant.
At her father’s beckoning, she retreated to the hall where she hoped bountiful amounts of ale and meat awaited them. Tonight, they would feast. But tomorrow...they’d need to make some plans.
Niall watched Alys’s father escort her away. What was he to do now? He couldn’t go back to Dyrah. Elmetia was not so far from Rivalyn, he could head there on the morrow. After all, that is the reason he stayed on the mainland and did not return to Angularem. But the journey had taken its toll, and it would be foolish to travel anywhere tonight.
An older woman came down into the courtyard. Elegantly dressed, and graceful in her poise. She first addressed Ariana. “Go freshen up child, you’ve had an awful ordeal. You can join the feasting, or, if you’d prefer, I can arrange for a tray to be taken to your bed?”
“No need, my lady. I am eager to see how Alys fares, and I am quite well.”
The lady nodded and then spoke to Niall. “Welcome to Rivalyn, kind sir. I believe we are indebted to your service. Cabal will show you where you can rest and wash. Will you join us later for feasting and merriment?”
Niall bowed his head. “Thank you, aye. You are most kind, my lady.” He went with Cabal to the garrison’s quarters. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh, they’ll either be on duty or in the hall.”
“Is there somewhere I can bathe?”
Cabal burst into laughter. “A bath, you say? Only for nobility. What are you, a king now?” He grabbed a half-filled bucket and shoved it into his arms. “You must suffice with this I’m afraid. That, or go down to the river. There are plenty of springs around here, and most of the men use them. Come on, I’ll go with you. I could use one myself.”
The spring water was freezing, but at least he was clean. Niall shivered as he hastily dried off behind the privacy of an overhanging fern. He was not accustomed to bathing outside and kept glancing over his shoulder in case folk should see him. Niall decided it would be best to head straight for the hall and return the sword to Alys. After all, he didn’t want to be accused of stealing. And following a decent night’s sleep, he’d be on his way.
“What are you doing behind that tree?” hollered Cabal. “No one’s around at this hour.”
Pulling down his tunic, Niall came into full view. “I don’t like to take my chances. Will you lead me to Alys now? I wish to return her sword.”
“I’ll show you to the hall, but I don’t want them to see me or else I’ll be given a job to do. I’m hoping to stay out of the way for a bit.”
Niall turned to Cabal and tried to ascertain his age. Mayhap one and twenty. “’Tis no time to shirk your duties, lad. Rest when you’re dead. Although, I’m sure they’ll not expect you to start until the morning. I suggest you appeal to the commander.”
Cabal pulled a face. “You sure you’re just a manservant?”
Niall kept his features neutral. “I don’t recall ever saying I was.”
“Then what are you? A wanderer?”
“Of sorts.”
Cabal clucked his tongue. “I’d wager the girls like that don’t they. Tall, dark and mysterious.” Cabal looked into the reflection of the water. “Looks like my beard is coming on nicely.”
Niall glanced at the young man’s fluff on the end of his chin and resisted the urge to laugh. “Well, summer is ahead of us. I warrant beards grow more when there is a goodly bit of sun.” At the talk of hair growth, he ran a hand over his own. Was it time to shave? He had never been much for a beard. “Do you have access to a razor blade?”
Chapter Four
“Here, let me fix your hair, my lady.”
Alys’s eyes widened. “Ariana, ’tis too early for you to resume your duties.” She glanced in the looking glass. “On second thought, if you have the time...”
Ariana giggled and picked up the hair comb. “It shan’t take me long, besides, I do not want your first impression as Lady of Rivalyn to be...” she gestured to the mop of free-flowing strands, “this.”
“Who’s first impression?”
“Why the mysterious stranger, of course, who came to our rescue.” She sighed with a faraway look in her eyes.
Alys snapped her fingers to get her attention. “Come now, he must be a good ten years your senior.”
Ariana shrugged. “What is age, when there is love?”
Alys folded her arms. “Love...after one day?” she said dryly.
Ariana sent her a sheepish grin. “Anything is possible.”
Alys rolled her eyes at the overly enthusiastic handmaiden.
“You didn’t notice his handsome features?”
“Nay.”
Ariana stared at Alys’s reflection in the mirror and arched her eyebrows.
“What...it was dark,” she replied, with laughter. “Besides, I was rather preoccupied, with escaping Shieldoks and not dying. Didn’t stop to think if the man driving the wagon was someone I should consider courting.”
“You can’t court him,” she snorted. “You’re above his station. I, on the other hand...?”
“Aye, all right. You are welcome to him, if he’ll have you, but concentrate just for a few moments, will you, and help me look presentable.”
Ariana struggled to bite back a smile, and the sparkle in her eyes did not diminish. As promised, Ariana soon had her hair braided beautifully around the crown of her head, with silver and gold thread which added a golden shine to her dark features. Alys carefully replaced her gold headband and sighed with satisfacti
on. Her mother had been right, she looked more ladylike with her handmaiden around.
“Will you be joining us?” Alys asked.
“Nay. I’ll take the opportunity to retire early.”
She nodded in understanding. The poor girl put on a brave front, but she must still quake beneath that solid exterior. She would speak to her father about it. She had processed naught and lacked knowledge of what had transpired that fatal eve.
Alys made her way to the hall, the midsummer night still fairly light, and the grand palace looking at its best. Scarlet banners flew majestically in the wind at each tower, and the breathtaking view of the valley below never ceased to amaze her.
“Lady Alys.”
The deep, unfamiliar voice pulled her out of her daydream. She looked up and blinked at the even more handsome man standing in front of her. Now clean-shaven, his strong jaw and straight nose were more prominent, and those eyes...seemed bluer, if that were possible.
“My lady? I apologize for startling you...”
Startling her? ’Twas hardly his fault she couldn’t concentrate.
The man held something wrapped up, and as she drew closer, she exclaimed, “My sword!” She took the weapon from him eagerly, unwound the familiar purple fabric, and stroked the handle with fondness. “This means more to me than you know. How can I ever repay your kindness?”
“Your reaction is satisfaction enough, my lady.”
“How did you come by it? I thought I’d left it in my trunk.”
“Aye, that you did, but I noticed your attachment to it on the day you arrived. My sister is a similar age to you, and she would not wish to be parted from such a weapon.”
She studied his features...there was such sincerity in his demeanour. He saved her life and rescued her treasured possession. Such trust was rarely found in a person. “I do not know your name.”
“Niall, my lady.”
“And whence do you come from, Niall?”
He hesitated. “A distant land, across the sea.”
“Goodness—what is your reason for being in Holmorra?”
“I...am on a pilgrimage...of sorts. I go where the Lord leads.”