Rivalyn

by Rachel James

  Cabal shook his head. Now was not the time for a confrontation. Instead, he found Calipher in the courtyard. His head was bent low in prayer, and Cabal waited for him to finish.

  “They are gone?” asked Calipher, his head now lifted, but he stayed on his knees.

  “Aye.”

  “Then how is it you remain?”

  Cabal hesitated. “I felt my presence was needed here.”

  Calipher rose with little effort and walked alongside Cabal through the garden. “You suspect something?”

  He shrugged. “’Tis my nature.”

  Calipher nodded and stuck out his bottom lip. “Trust your instincts, Cabal. I too am cautious and think it time for me to go to Ryvilla. I have ensured that Lady Meredith is safe, and Alys is following her own destiny now.”

  Cabal frowned. “What is your plan? To negotiate with the Shieldoks?”

  “Something to that effect. I must find out what is going on there.” He paused and patted Cabal’s arm. “There is no need for alarm, soldier. I can take care of myself. But I would rest far easier knowing you were here, to watch over Lady Meredith.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “You’ll be needing William’s bows if you’re to get passed those pesky Shieldoks,” said Mary.

  Niall lay on his pallet in the corner of the room, where he dressed the night before. Through the thin muslin, he could see Alys helping with the children’s hair, although she seemed to make it worse rather than better.

  “Aye.”

  Mary nudged Alys and spoke in a low voice. “When are you going to tell me about him?” She nodded toward Niall, and he quickly closed his eyes. He wasn’t exactly eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help being in the same room as them.

  “He’s my bodyguard.”

  “And since when do you need someone to protect you? I thought that was the point of those endless lessons with Calipher.”

  “I feel safe with him at my side, and it was my father’s wish.”

  Mary snorted, “Well who wouldn’t. He surely carries... I don’t know...an air about him. He’s not from these parts is he.”

  “Nay, he’s from a land across the sea. He was shipwrecked.”

  “Then why doesn’t he return home?”

  “Well, we asked him to stay. Besides, he does not seem to hold much of a fondness for his old life.”

  “Ah, you say that, because that’s what you want to see.”

  Alys’s forehead wrinkled. “Now don’t you be getting any ideas, Mary. He’s my protector, ’tis all.”

  “Funny, the two of you don’t act like it.”

  Alys shifted in her seat. “I rely on his expertise and experience.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. He does not like to speak of his past.”

  Mary tutted. “Well, he’ll have to, eventually. A man stuck in the past has no future.”

  Alys stood and ruffled her skirt. “Where are the bow and arrows? I’d best get ready.”

  “In the same place as always.”

  Alys departed, the hut shaking as she slammed the door a little harder than necessary.

  Mary cleared her throat. “You can come out now, Niall.”

  She knew he was listening? Slowly, he got out of his bed and straightened the furs. Mary handed him some mead and a bread cake. Niall avoided her direct gaze and studied the food in his hands. “So, you were Alys’s nurse?”

  “Aye, but then she grew up, and no longer needed me. I too moved on. I fell in love and married and left the palace.”

  Alys stormed in, her arms full of weaponry. She flung them on the floor. “Oh good, Niall, you’re awake. We must hasten, for I heard that more soldiers are coming. If we’ve any hope of getting through the mountain pass, we need to do so now.”

  Alys drew her bow, three arrows strategically positioned in-between her fingers. She made a mental note of the wind direction and estimated the distance between herself and the Shieldoks.

  “Wait,” said Niall, with his hand gently on her arm. “There’s more over there.”

  He took his own larger one and pointed it at the others. “Ready?”

  Simultaneously, they released. “Run!” shouted Niall.

  Alys slung her bow on her back, her quiver of arrows banging against her thigh as she sprinted across the open plain and headed through the pass, her sword raised in one hand, her shield on the other arm.

  The Shieldok warriors now alerted, they responded with arrows of their own. She blocked with her shield as Niall fell in sync behind her. They reached the gate, but several charged at them with spears. She used her body weight to catapult herself over their shield wall, jumping from one shield to the other until she got to the other side. She winced as she landed awkwardly on her ankle. Niall was now to her left, his sheer strength and swordsmanship almost mesmerizing as he fought off the enemy in close combat. She turned to the mountain pass gate and resorted to her sword. She sliced left, right, left. The tall soldier fell wounded on the ground. She pointed her sword underneath the man’s chin and saw the fear of death in his eyes. She twisted her blade ready to finish, and as she did so it caught the sunlight, and the inscription lit up. Alys hesitated as the words played on her conscience.

  Power to save.

  “What are you doing?” asked Niall.

  She kicked the man on his back and bound his hands together. “Taking him with us. He may prove useful.”

  Niall angled his face and then nodded. “Good plan.” He hoisted the man up. “Though we have a fair walk on our hands.”

  Alys returned her sword to her holster. “Best get moving then.”

  They walked over the grass-covered crags for the remainder of the day, stopping only once to briefly rest, and then continue on their journey. Alys rubbed her shoulders as a breeze began to pick-up.

  Niall stared at her limp as she stumbled over a rock. “Here, let me hold your shield.”

  “But you’ve got the prisoner.”

  “We’ll swap.”

  Thankful for the brief relief she passed it over. Just as she did so, it slipped from her hands, and the Shieldok shoved her to the ground and ran off. Niall was straight by her side as she clutched on her arm. “Nay, go after him.”

  Niall sprinted in the prisoner’s direction, but he’d had too much of a head start.

  She examined her arm; she must have fallen on it the wrong way. The wind began to pick up, and she hunched her arms over her knees to keep warm. They hadn’t packed any supplies with them, hoping they’d reach Castraholm by nightfall. That now looked unlikely.

  She rested her heavy head, tiredness claiming her. She’d just shut her eyes for a moment to ease the dizziness.

  Chapter Twelve

  The wretched man got away, and after chasing him back toward the mountain pass for some time, he gave up. It would have been useful to find out what he knew, but then he was only a soldier, and unlikely to have any credible information.

  Niall leaned over his knees and waited for his breath to return to him. Guilt riddled his inner being at the thought of leaving Alys by herself, without fully checking her injuries. He truly hoped she fared well.

  Daylight started to fade by the time Niall returned to Alys, and she was asleep, nestled in the grass embankment.

  “Alys?”

  He eased his hand behind to help her up, and to his horror, her hair was damp. He tugged it away, and dismay filled him as blood appeared. Not an abundance, but he of all people understood how dangerous head injuries were. If only they had that precious helmet!

  She didn’t rouse when he lifted and carried her to the nearest village. If his calculations were correct, they were now on the border of Clythburgh. Would he receive aid?

  The place was not fortified, just a few wooden huts, a small feasting hall, and a forge. Outside in the centre was the cooking area, and people gathered here and there, some drinking, some dancing. Torches lit the surrounding perimeter, and as he arrived, a
crowd gathered around him.

  “I need help. My mistress is injured.”

  They stood, motionless, no one moving to assist him.

  An older man stepped forward. “From where do you come from? We don’t take kindly to strangers here.”

  “Ryvilla. Please, we just need somewhere to rest, and I can tend to my lady.” As he said this, he edged forward and Alys’s cloak shifted, revealing her armour.

  The man in front froze at the sight. “Heaven above, I’ve not seen...” He glanced up at Niall. “Follow me.”

  Niall was relieved when he was shown into a modest hut with two beds in it.

  “Please, lay her down here. I’ll fetch you someone to help her. We’ve no healer, but Maude does what she can.”

  He wondered how safe Alys’s armour would be if he removed it, but he had to check for any other injuries. He carefully unfastened her breastplate, undid the belt buckle, and then her cloak.

  Holding the light in the chamber higher, he inspected her dress for any signs of blood. He examined the back of her head, where a big lump formed, but the bleeding had stopped.

  A young lady came in with a tray full of supplies. “Excuse me sir, but Cynbel asked me to tend to your mistress.”

  “Aye, thank you.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She was attacked by a Shieldok.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “So close to our village?”

  “Oh, he’s long gone now.”

  Maude tended to Alys. “I’m sorry for our hostility toward you, as you can fathom, our defences are poor, and the threat of the Shieldoks claiming the entire northern realm is an ongoing concern for us.”

  “How is she?”

  “I will bandage the wound on her arm, although it seems superficial.”

  “And her head?”

  “She has a massive bump, ’tis all. If she wakes, we’ll know how she fares soon enough.”

  “Thank you.”

  She got up to leave and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you hungry? I can fetch you something?”

  He nodded.

  The door creaked shut, and he slumped on the bed next to Alys.

  She opened one eye. “Nice girl.”

  “Alys?” He shot to her side and cupped his hands around her face, stroking the hair away from her eyes. “How do you feel?”

  She shifted in the bed. “Oh, well enough.” She touched her head and grimaced. “After a good night’s sleep.” She looked around the room. “Where are we?”

  “Clythburgh, we’re not far from the city. Mayhap half a day’s walk? I suggest we take our time here and rest awhile. Just to be sure.”

  Alys snorted. “I said I’m fine, and we must get to Castraholm as soon as—”

  He pushed her shoulders firmly down on the bed. “I’ll be the judge of that, my lady.” A little more tenderly he said, “I was worried.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “Why?”

  He sighed. “My sister once fell, and never fully regained her memory.”

  “You and she are close?”

  “Not especially, we spent a good few years apart, but in the latter days, we certainly made progress.”

  She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “What is it about your sister that you’re not telling me? You miss her?”

  “When I left Angularem, I’d always planned to return... I left her in an impossible situation.”

  “How so?”

  He stared at her. Even with her head bandaged and dressed in a poor simple dress, she was beautiful. And the thought took him by surprise. He swallowed. He wasn’t ready to open up his heart. Not yet. “Did I ever tell you I was engaged?”

  “You said your wife died in childbirth.”

  “Nay, after her. I was betrothed to a woman I barely knew.”

  “What happened?”

  “She fell for someone else—a friend of mine.”

  Alys gasped and clutched hold of his hand. “How awful.”

  He smiled at the memory. “It was rather liberating, in retrospect.”

  “You did not love her then?”

  “Mmm, I thought I did, at the time, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. I see now that it was for the best. I doubt we would have been happy.”

  “Did they ever wed, then? Your friend and your betrothed?”

  He shrugged. “I heard they did. My biggest regret though, was leaving before making amends with Sherwin.”

  “Mayhap you will meet him again to make peace.”

  He nodded. “If God grants me that, I will indeed be a fortunate man.”

  He let go of Alys’s hand. “Now rest.”

  She began to sit up. “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t stay in here with you, Alys.”

  She sighed and stuck out her bottom lip.

  He took a fur blanket off the second bed and stepped out. “I’ll just be outside if you need me.”

  “You’re going to sleep on the doorstep?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  She stayed in bed for days, and after that, Alys had enough. She felt fine, and even her arm recovered nicely. Her eyesight readjusted to the daylight as she left her cabin, and inhaled the fresh air with relief. She’d expected Niall to be stationed outside her door as always, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “There you are, m’lady,” said Maude, who at present was leaning over a pot, stirring something that smelt entirely delicious.

  “Morning.”

  “You’ll find Niall out there.” She motioned to the perimeter. “He’s building us a gate.”

  “He’s what?”

  “Fortifying the village, m’lady. From the Shieldoks.”

  She cast her gaze across the wooden palisade that now stood around the entire settlement. “Are those trenches?”

  “Aye, he’s got the men to work.”

  She nodded and headed over to him. It took Niall a while before he noticed her, for his legs were two feet deep in mud.

  “Alys, you should be in bed.”

  She folded her arms. “Care for a brief break?”

  He raised his eyebrows, glanced across at the other villagers working, and then slapped his hand on a man’s back. “Hold the fort, will you Peter? I’ll be back soon.”

  He fell into step beside her, his silence telling her he understood.

  “I am ready to continue onward,” she said.

  “I see.” Niall dipped his hands in a bucket of water and washed the mud from his skin. “And these villagers here, who have been so kind and hospitable to us?”

  “What of them?”

  “If the Shieldoks pass through, they are helpless. The least we can do, to express our gratitude, is to help them a little.”

  “What will a flimsy wooden gate do against them? You think they cannot tear it down? These people are farmers, not soldiers.”

  “Anyone can be a soldier, if they’ve cause to fight, and skills to do so.”

  “You speak as if from experience.”

  “I do.”

  “And what is that?”

  His lips formed a thin line.

  She folded her arms, frustrated that he never opened up to her. After all the opportunities and the period of grace that she gave him.

  Niall ran a hand through his hair. “You have a duty to them.”

  “Not yet, if I don’t get the sword, they will not be my people.”

  “If you’re a monarch, you do what is best for the people.”

  “What will building a few trenches do?”

  “Give them hope!” He strode around in a circle, his arms swinging in clear frustration. “Alys, when are you going to understand this? We do what we can, and God does the rest.”

  She exhaled through pursed lips. “It is imperative that we find the Sacred Sword. Every day we linger, we risk losing it forever.”

  “You miss the whole point. What is it that you wear on your feet? The gospel of peace. Didn’t Jesus himself say, blessed are the
peacemakers? When we have the chance to, we make peace. It builds bridges that we may find we need to cross at our time of need. Help others, build allies, strengthen your kingdom.”

  “What do you know of such matters? You, a mere wanderer who cannot even face going home? You are in my employ, for goodness sake, and yet you speak to me as my superior.”

  “You know naught of me, or who I am, or where I come from.”

  “And why is that Niall? Aye, please tell me, for I have been asking this of you for months. Go on, who are you to be of such import?”

  “The leader of Angularem, and son of King Cedric of Elmetia.”

  Motionless, she replayed the words in her head over and over, allowing them to sink into her heart. Her mouth dropped open, and she tilted her head in disbelief. Niall stood before her, so tall and capable, yet his shoulders drooped heavily.

  She blinked and shook her head. She studied his face, gazed into those sea-blue eyes. No, he was in earnest. She shut her eyes, and a tear fell down her face. What a fool she had been. All this time, she treated him as a servant. Expected him to behave lower than herself. Why? Why had he kept such information from her?

  She swallowed to calm her conflicting emotions. “Then why on earth have you deserted your people?”

  Had he abandoned his subjects? Were they ever his in the first place? He was born a prince, but after his father died, he became a king without a kingdom. When he fled to Angularem with some of his people, they made him their leader. But a self-made king is different to an anointed one.

  He’d been wrestling with this inner conflict since the day he was shipwrecked, which was the real reason he did not return home. That, and there was Alys. Somehow, he knew God wanted him to protect her. He felt being pulled toward her, closer each day and something shifted between them.

  Perchance he had disregarded his place. There were times he forgot he was just a bodyguard and resorted back to his ways of being a king. It had been a huge adjustment to be the one having to take the orders, all to be free of his responsibility.