Secrets & Swords

by R A Lewis

  Chapter 13

  Noise and sound hit them in the face as they opened the tavern door. The tavern was already crowded with locals, gathering early for a bite to eat before Henndo began performing and the dancing started. Even though Roguelyn had been there dozens of times before, this time felt like a whole new experience. She struggled to remember who she was supposed to be, and how a lady acted. She forgot to walk light on her toes, and found herself stumbling, trying to remember how she used to walk, without the manly swagger and relaxed approach. She tried to remember the lessons her mother had forced upon her, about walking on your toes and gliding across the room. Henndo kept her upright, hanging on to her arm, and she squeezed his forearm gratefully.

  They approached the bar. Hob was serving behind it tonight, and Liam sat at the corner stool talking with Hob. When they approached, Liam paused, looking Roguelyn up and down. A small, bemused smile began to stretch across his lips.

  “Hob, Liam, this is Rawlin’s sister, Sara,” Henndo introduced. “Sara, this is Hob, the owner of the establishment, and Liam, a gentleman and a merchant.” Liam bowed a half bow from his seat, eyeing her again, a small smirk on his lips. Hob reached out to take Roguelyn’s hand. She offered it hesitantly, only realizing belatedly as Liam also took her hand that her callus might give her away. He paused, holding her hand in his, bending to give it a kiss. When he finally let her hand go, a large grin spread across his face.

  “So! Sara, are you Rawlin’s twin?” Liam asked good naturally, a bit of a sarcastic edge to his voice.

  Roguelyn stammered out a response, but Henndo cut in.

  “Yes, she is. They are twins,” he led her over to a chair by the fireplace and sat down with her.

  Roguelyn let out a long sigh of relief, although Liam was still eyeing her across the bar, a laughing smile plain on his face. He continued to smile at her and then shake his head and laugh.

  “I think Liam knows,” Roguelyn said to Henndo.

  “Why do you think that?” he said, as he pulled out his lyre from its case next to the fireplace.

  “I think he felt the calluses on my hands from holding a sword,” she said, rubbing the palms of her hands, as if it might rub away the thick calluses that had built up from training in the military, of years holding a sword since childhood.

  “It’ll be fine. If he knows, he’s not spilling the beans,” Henndo said jovially. “Now, I’m going to play a set for the crowd. Are you going to stay here?” Roguelyn shook her head. She’d had enough for one day. “Then go on up to the room. I’ll see you there later and we can talk.” Roguelyn nodded and got up heading for the stairs. Liam stopped her, putting out a hand.

  “Woah! Where are you going?” Roguelyn froze, not sure what he meant. Then she remembered.

  “Up to my brother’s room,” she said, as confidently as she could manage. “Henndo said I could stay there until I got my posting in the palace.” She lifted up her skirts and made to climb the stairs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am tired from my journey and wish to rest.” Liam smirked and nodded, his hand dropping to his side.

  “As you wish, my lady,” his tone slightly mocking. Roguelyn wondered when he would confront her, and which lies she should tell. It was getting hard for her to keep all her lies straight. And now, she was pretending to be a whole new person. It was exhausting, and once she was safely inside her and Henndo’s room, she collapsed on the bed, falling asleep instantly.

  The next morning she was in the kitchen, helping Hob cook the breakfast when Liam came in. He was tucking in his shirt, and his dark hair was tousled on top of his head. He clearly hadn’t bothered to comb it before coming down stairs. He stopped dead in the doorway, his shirt half pulled down, a patch of skin on his muscled abdomen showing. Roguelyn ducked her head and smiled, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous and boyish he looked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be down here,” he said, pulling his shirt on all the way and coming to sit at the large table across from where she was cutting up vegetables.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to stay here for free,” Roguelyn quipped back, chopping a carrot with purpose. Liam nodded at her explanation. He watched her as she worked, questions flying across his face, but he never asked a single one. Not until Hob left the kitchen and his wife was out collecting firewood.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed across the table at her. She startled, unsure what he was talking about.

  “What are you talking about?” she whispered back.

  “I know what you are,” he said, a threatening tone sliding into his voice. He reached across the table and grabbed the wrist that held the knife she was using to cut with. She looked him dead in the eyes, unflinching, even though his fingertips were digging into her wrist, hard enough to leave a mark.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she repeated through clenched teeth against the pain.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re a spy for Rayaven, just like me.” Roguelyn couldn’t have been more surprised if he had sprouted two heads. She jerked back from him, her eyes going wide. “I’m right, aren’t I?” Liam said, taking her reaction for confirmation. Roguelyn froze, her mind racing. This could be to her advantage. This man was technically an ally then, wasn’t he? If he was indeed a spy from her own country? But he had her all wrong. She didn’t say anything, just let him stare her down. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said, and released her wrist, just as Hob’s wife pushed through the back door and into the kitchen, an armload of firewood clutched to her chest.

  Roguelyn rubbed her sore wrist and frowned at Liam who suddenly acted like nothing was amiss.

  “Can I help you with that, Mollie?” he stood, taking the wood from Hob’s wife’s arms. She accepted gruffly and turned to head back outside, Liam following once he put down his load. Roguelyn returned to her vegetables, her gut churning at what Liam was going to discuss later with her. She needed a story, and fast, but how much truth could she sprinkle in to be believable? And could she remember all the lies she was telling? It was beginning to feel like too much, and she hoped that things would get less complicated once she moved into the palace as Galiena’s maid, and had distance from Liam.

  That evening Roguelyn was studiously avoiding Liam’s gaze, choosing instead to stay next to Henndo and occupy herself serving the guests than let him corner her for a chat. She still had no solid story, but she wondered if at least telling him who she was would mean he’d help her find her father. It was a risk, a huge risk in fact, but one she might have to take. When the tavern had mostly emptied and it was time to head towards bed, Roguelyn was alone at the bar wiping glasses when she felt someone behind her. She turned around abruptly, almost running into Liam. His gaze was intense.

  “We need to talk. Now.” He grabbed her wrist again and began to drag her out through the kitchen. Roguelyn barely managed to set down the glass and rag on the table as they practically ran through the kitchen. He dragged her across the courtyard and into the shelter of the stables. It smelled of warm hay and the slightly tangy scent of horses, and despite the uncomfortable moment, Roguelyn felt instantly at ease. With her tension draining due to the comfort the stables brought her, she began to feel more confident.

  “You’re a spy. Now, who is you handler?” Roguelyn was once again caught off guard. She had no idea how to answer this, so she just decided to bypass the question with her own.

  “Do you know where Gaillart Ashdown is being kept?” she shot back, crossing her arms across her chest. Liam’s face went slack, she had caught him off guard as well.

  “Duke Ashdown?” he asked in bewilderment.

  “Yes.” Roguelyn thought fast. “He’s my target. My mission is to rescue him.” Liam nodded.

  “That makes sense,” he said, scratching his stubble with his fingers.

  “What’s your mission?” she asked, curiosity seeping in. Liam looked at her sharply.

  “Kill the king, of course. Honestly, I
thought that was what every spy’s current mission was. Kill the king, end the war.” Liam dropped his hand from his face and sighed. “It seems that my mission and your mission cross, and we may be able to help each other. You’ll be my eyes and ears in the court once you’re the lady’s maid, and since it’s obvious I’m your senior, I’ll help you piece together the puzzle and use my contact to get more information about Duke Ashdown.” Roguelyn frowned, it seemed a little one sided but at least it meant that maybe she had an ally.

  “Okay, I appreciate the help,” she nodded, and stuck out her hand. Liam eyed it, a twinkle coming back into his eyes.

  “Are you Rawlin or Sara?” Roguelyn frowned, her hand dropping.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

  “Are you a boy or a girl?” he asked, matter-of-factly. Roguelyn frowned deeper. She wasn’t sure it really mattered, but she answered anyway, her voice becoming caustic.

  “A girl.” Liam nodded, as if she’d just confirmed something for him. And this time he stuck his own hand out. She reached to take it and he suddenly turned her hand over and kissed it, as if she was a lady. Roguelyn snatched her hand back. “Don’t do me any favors. You didn’t treat me any differently when you thought I was a boy, don’t treat me any differently now.” With that, she stalked off, leaving Liam behind her chuckling to himself.

  Roguelyn was fuming as she entered her rooms. Henndo was sitting on his bed, cleaning his lyre with some sort of wax.

  “How was your little chat with Liam?” Roguelyn froze as she was about to take her shoes off. Then she continued.

  “He knows who I am, sort of.” Henndo’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “Oh? Does he now? And?” Roguelyn shot him a look.

  “And what?” Henndo cracked a conspiratorial smile.

  “Did he kiss you?” Roguelyn made a face.

  “Of course not. He did kiss my hand, but only to mock me, I’m sure.”

  “Why would he mock you?” Henndo said as he put aside his lyre in its case.

  “Because now he thinks I’m weak,” she said, a bit of self-deprecation in her voice.

  “But he saw you fight? He knows you’re not weak.” Roguelyn shook her head vehemently.

  “No, I’m sure he does. He treated me like you would any soft lady. I won’t stand for that,” she threw her shoes across the room as anger boiled in her gut. Henndo looked at her sympathetically.

  “I’m sure that’s not true. Just give him some time to adjust to the new you, and you’ll see exactly how he feels.” Roguelyn shook her head but didn’t argue further. She dropped the curtain that separated their beds and got ready to sleep. Tomorrow was a big day, and she needed rest to focus and be on top of her game.

  Chapter 14

  Roguelyn found herself nervously wiping out the wrinkles in the green dress Tilla had given her, trying not to sweat as she sat outside of Duchess Galiena’s rooms. A servant in a yellow sur-coat with green trim stood at the doors, having already announced that Roguelyn was there. She had no idea how this meeting would go but she hoped it would work out well. She desperately wanted to find her father, and the more time that passed, the more she feared he would die or be killed in captivity.

  Roguelyn had heard horror stories about King Hargrave. She had heard he was cruel, that he in fact enjoyed being cruel, but that some of his subjects loved him with fierce loyalty because he rewarded those loyal to him generously. She had heard that he forced young men to fight in his battles, he took women away from their families, he often deflowered young girls and then left them for their families to try to marry off. He was abusive to women, and there were even some rumors that he enslaved children in the far north to work in mines. She remembered a conversation she had overheard in the marketplace a week or two prior.

  One afternoon wandering the city, she saw another group of women, their hair covered, high necked and long-sleeved dresses covering every inch of skin. She stood at a nearby stall and watched them warily. Two women shopping at the same stall as she was were speaking low.

  “They are a part of that new group, The Eternal Ministry.” Roguelyn’s ears pricked up. This group seemed to be everywhere.

  “I heard they are slaves, they let the men do whatever they want,” one woman scoffed, eyeing the women as if they were trollops.

  “I heard that they are all wives of the leader of the group. That no one is allowed to touch them but him.” Roguelyn frowned at the mention of the leader. She had heard of him before, but had never heard his name, only that he was someone very high up and influential. Finally, the women moved away, and Roguelyn moved on through the market, forgetting about the encounter entirely until now.

  As she sat contemplating the king, it dawned on her that a man like what she’d heard about would absolutely be the type of man to run a cult like the Eternal Ministry. He wouldn’t bat an eye about having multiple wives or brainwashing his subjects. Maybe living here, she’d get to see some of that first hand and judge for herself how cruel he truly was. The door in front of her abruptly opened, and Roguelyn shot to her feet, knocking over the small suitcase before her that carried all her worldly belongings. She bent down to pick it up and when she stood, Duchess Galiena stood before her, hands folded in front of her, a serene smile on her face. Roguelyn dipped a curtsey before making eye contact.

  “You must be Sara. You look just like your brother, you know?” Galiena stretched out both her arms towards Roguelyn, inviting her inside. Roguelyn picked up her case and followed her inside, allowing Galiena to place an arm around her shoulders.

  “So I’ve been told, your Grace.” Galiena’s apartments were lavishly furnished. The walls were covered in tapestries that practically jumped out at you in a riot of colors, depicting a variety of scenes from hunting, to landscape, to ones of ladies sitting around in a sewing circle. Suddenly, Roguelyn was more nervous than before. What if her needlepoint skills were not up to par? What if she couldn’t keep up with the other ladies maids? Galiena led her to a chair by the window and had her sit. Roguelyn sat stiffly on the edge of the chair. Galiena seated herself opposite and eyed Roguelyn. Roguelyn squirmed slightly, uncomfortable in her own skin with this woman assessing her. She felt like Galiena was no fool, and that she knew more than was at first obvious.

  “So, Rawlin, I mean, Sara,” she stumbled over her name, but when Roguelyn looked up, Galiena was looking her dead in the eyes. Roguelyn swallowed.

  “Yes, your Grace?” Roguelyn fiddled with the edge of her bodice.

  “I know a bad wig when I see one. And your hands bear the marks of a fighter, not of a ladies maid.” Roguelyn went ice cold. This woman could read her like a book. She looked around frantically, wondering if a guard was going to step out from behind a drape or a doorway to arrest her. But Galiena was smiling serenely. “You were dressed as a boy before weren’t you?” Roguelyn nodded, a blush spreading up her face, embarrassed that this woman could so easily read her. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your secret. But it means you might be of more use to me than a normal ladies maid.” Roguelyn looked up, surprise making her mouth fall open. Galiena sat quietly for a few minutes, watching Roguelyn, her mind clearly working up a plan. Roguelyn fidgeted, waiting for this woman to pronounce her fate. “First, let’s get you a better wig, one that’s made of real hair, and not horsehair like that one,” she stood and reached out a hand for Roguelyn to take.

  Roguelyn followed her into an adjoining room, where a large wardrobe stood, filled to the brim with dresses of all sorts, and a second wardrobe which was filled with accessories, including a few beautiful wigs on stands, one blonde, one red, and one a beautiful brown that about matched Roguelyn’s own natural hair. Galiena dropped Roguelyn’s hand and picked up the brown wig, caressing its curling locks lovingly. She looked up, eyeing Roguelyn’s hair.

  “Take off that silly wig, and try this one on.” Roguelyn did as she was asked and Galiena placed it on her head carefully. “There. That looks better. A little glue
along the edges, and no one will know the difference. Now. None of my ladies maids know who you are, so we’ll have to dress you up and give you a new name.” Roguelyn was confused, what was Galiena playing at?

  “What are you talking about, your Grace?” she said, as Galiena dug through an old trunk on the floor, pulling out dresses, and holding them up to Roguelyn.

  “Well, I need your help. And so, I plan to pass you off as my distant cousin who’s come to keep me company at court.” Roguelyn was stunned. What on earth could be the point of that?

  “Excuse me, your Grace, but what on earth for?” Galiena paused, holding up a forest green silk dress.

  “Green really is your color isn’t it?” she folded the dress in her arms and looked at Roguelyn. “The King is trying to control me. He won’t leave me alone, he keeps trying to get me into his bed, and he’s trying to find a way to get me under his thumb. I think that someone with your talents might just be able to help me throw him off, maybe take some of the pressure off me long enough that I can think clearly, and help me make a plan.” Roguelyn had known that there was unrest in Hargrave’s court, but not this much. It sounded awfully close to treason but she didn’t want to suggest that to Galiena.

  “What do you need me to do?” Roguelyn asked. A large part of her felt sorry for Galiena and wanted to help. The other part knew this was a perfect opportunity to get a good hard look at the court, and give her access to more areas and people to help her find her father.

  “Well, first we need to get you presentable. Then we need to give you a back story. Then I need to present you at court. I will assign one of my ladies maids to you, and we’ll assign you your own set of apartments next to mine.” Roguelyn’s stomach did a flip flop. Here she was, taking up a role similar to the one she had at home, but somehow the thought of it didn’t feel right. Like somehow the role of a Lady no longer fit her, like a bad suit of armor or an ill cut dress. But she nodded instead and the transformation began.