Singer's Sword

by Cassandra Boyson

  * * *

  The sun had set before she was prepared to descend from her tower… and into the dungeon below. The passage was dim, lit only by torches spaced perhaps too far apart. She wondered if this had been done in an effort to inspire dread in the prisoners who descended. Even she was filled with trepidation.

  A guard stood below. When she relayed who she wished to visit, he did not stop her. Perhaps he’d been told to expect her or perhaps he simply did not care. Having been informed that Dorian was held in the cell at the very end of the prison, she was forced to travel past dozens of prisoners. Their behavior was like a nightmare, but she continued forward, ignoring them as they howled and hooted after her.

  At last, she came to the cell containing the silent prisoner. He was crouched upon the floor with arms wrapped around his knees, his cheek pressed against the wall.

  “Dorian…” she said softly.

  Slowly, he raised his head. “I didn’t expect you’d come,” he said numbly.

  “Just tell me it isn’t true… that some part of it isn’t true.”

  He smirked, but it held no joy, only a sort of drunken hopelessness. “I can’t do that.”

  “But why did you do it?”

  He crawled closer to where she stood. “How can you be so surprised? Surely, you hold no love for a king who thinks so ill of you? Who your own parents wished to see dethroned? Don’t tell me you’ve never considered they had good reason?”

  “I couldn’t care less what their reasons were in so much as it concerns whether their actions were correct. I have never for a moment been in agreement with what they attempted. I am thoroughly ashamed of them.”

  “And you are ashamed of me as well, now?”

  “Indeed, I am. How can you think King Zephuel deserves to be robbed and betrayed like this? He is fair with the poor, with all his subjects. Every king in his line has been so.”

  “You think it is fair he lives in splendor while the rest lead thankless lives?”

  She shook her head. “I cannot fathom your thinking at all. Are you saying you wish him and his kind brought to your way of life or you raised to theirs?”

  “Why should one man get to lord it over a bunch of regular folk, make them pay taxes they could be putting to better use?”

  “Dorian, there is a price to being a leader as well, I assure you. You shake your head, but I have seen it—the toll it has taken on my cousin. That’s right: my cousin. As in, I am one of those whom you despise. He has aged considerably. Only a man in his forties, the gray upon his head grows daily. I have read in my books all about what a terrible responsibility it is to be king.”

  “Oh, your books… the very things you use as an escape from these people.”

  “I am ‘these people,’ whether either of us likes it or not. You are so selfish! Has it ever occurred to you to earn a better place in this world rather than to take it?”

  Slowly, he scooted away from her, back into the shadows. If she knew him at all, his mind was open to what she was saying. He had acted a fool, but he wasn’t one deep down. But it was too late now. He had received his sentence.

  “Dorian, did… you befriend me to gain information about the castle workings?”

  Silence.

  “I need an answer.”

  “It wasn’t my idea.”

  Her world really and truly spun then. She sank to the floor.

  “But it wasn’t like that,” he protested. “At least… not after a while. Yes, the gang put me up to it, to befriending the lonely girl who passed time in the forest… But it wasn’t long before I felt true friendship for you. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had, the best. I even stopped feeding the men information you gave me.”

  She gasped with sudden revelation. “Did you agree to go south with me in an attempt to recruit the aid of the tribes?”

  “I…”

  She leaped to her feet. “And you say I am your friend!”

  “I meant what I said about protecting you. I wouldn’t have let anyone hurt you.”

  “But you have hurt me… more than anyone else ever has. All these years we’ve known one another, I thought you were my only friend. Turns out I had so much less than that. I had a backstabbing, conniving…” She caught herself. She wasn’t that person. She didn’t have it in her to go there. She stole a moment to breathe. “I truly cared about you. Sickening as it is… I still do,” she spoke the last with a sob. “I will come see you from time to time… see how you’re doing.”

  “Don’t come,” he spat.

  She grasped the bars of his cell, wishing she had the strength to shake them. “You’re seriously going to reject me now?! I’m trying to be a friend to you!”

  “I don’t deserve it.”

  “You think I don’t know that?!” Dropping her arms, she huffed and started away. He wasn’t worth the trouble.

  “I mean it, Hazel,” he called after her. “Don’t come back.”

  She clenched her fists. He didn’t understand. Of course he couldn’t. He was scum. But he was scum who had been her friend… all she’d had outside the prophet. It had been them against the world. Her enemies were his and vice versa, at least verbally. The thought of losing that completely, no matter how make-believe it had been, made her feel utterly deserted.

  * * *

  “You sent for me, Lady Nora,” Hazel said as she entered her guardian’s private quarters. Rarely, was she summoned here, as if her presence might sully the finery. This evening was an exception as Lady Nora was being readied for the banquet that evening.

  “I thought, after all that has occurred of late, we were due for a chat. Take a seat beside me and polish my nails.”

  Hazel took up the buffer and did as told.

  “You have shamed me time and again, girl. Yesterday’s event… has nearly undone me.”

  Hazel’s brows rose. The woman certainly didn’t look undone. But even for an unloving guardian, she could well understand why her cousin was ashamed of her. “I am sorrier for my friendship with that young man than I can find words to express.”

  “Yes, well, I wouldn’t wish to hear it anyway. What’s done is done. You’ve displayed this reckless power, affronted poor Dianna, even resisted my authority. It really isn’t worth mentioning your having been found a relative of the southern tribes… Not forgetting, of course, the disgrace of your parents’ blood, which we have never quite been able to overcome, have we?”

  Hazel’s blood boiled. If she had to hear about her parents’ sins one more time, she would wring someone’s neck.

  Lady Nora ripped her hair from the maidservant’s hands to face Hazel. “Really, child, I cannot think what else is to be done with you.”

  Hazel dropped her head in an effort to conceal the burning behind her eyes. Many times, she had endured discussions like this. For whatever reason, she had been gifted with the patience to stomach them, to persevere under such remarks. This evening, however, it was difficult to maintain the attitude expected of her. Yet, with the traitorous Dorian having outed her as his friend, she felt it all the more important to behave. It gave Lady Nora too much to work with should the notion occur to her to have her cast into prison beside him.

  “We must have you off my hands,” the woman said at last. “I cannot bear the burden of you any longer.”

  Hazel stopped her buffing and looked up with wide eyes. Would her cousin have her imprisoned?

  “I’ve got your attention now, have I? Well, it’s about time. This evening, we will adorn you more splendidly than you have ever been.”

  This was not what Hazel had expected.

  Lady Nora took hold of her chin and turned it from side to side. “Surely, there must be something to be done to make such a face becoming enough to hook a Galfreen duke.”

  Hazel blinked back at her. “You wish me wedded to a duke?” Then, the country of which she spoke set in. Galfree was across the sea and on Bashtii’s opposite border. The thought of going so far filled her with trepidation.


  “I do if it will reward me handsomely… and it will. Moreover, it would send you far away from me. I have heard the duke has had trouble landing a bride in his own country, so he seeks one here and offers sufficient remuneration.”

  “But that’s akin to-to… selling me.”

  “You’ve no dowry, girl. You’ll take what you can get. And it’s more than you deserve. Let that cursed ‘gift’ of yours be Galfree’s problem. We want none of it here.”

  Hazel flung the buffer down harder than she meant, sending her guardian to her feet.

  “How can you be so ungrateful for this chance I mean to win you?” Lady Nora asked as if truly incredulous.

  Hazel glared back. She was near eruption. If her guardian forced her to answer, she would. But it would cost her, she was certain.

  “Shall I escort Lady Hazel to her chambers and have her prepared handsomely for the banquet?” the maid asked.

  Lady Nora’s eyes glowered over Hazel, but she relented.

  Hazel released a breath as she followed the maid, Bretta, from the room. “You saved me,” she whispered to the girl, uncertain if she would even wish it referred to.

  The maid offered a small smile but said nothing.

  Hazel had always thought the girl truly loyal to Lady Nora, being the lady’s favored maid. But though she may be as loyal as ever, she possessed compassion enough for Hazel. And she was certainly loyal enough to Lady Nora as she scrubbed, lotioned and beautified Hazel to her utmost. By the end, Hazel was both stunned and horrified by the spectacle of herself in the mirror. She was glowing. Dressed in white, her hair twisted this way and that, her skin warmed by the southern sun, she looked well indeed.

  “I wish I could thank you for this,” she said to Bretta.

  The girl offered a pitying smile. “I must do as I am bid… as must you.”

  That was a piece of advice Hazel was in no mood to receive. Her only hope of the evening was that either this duke would find her unattractive or she might find him, in the least, kindly. As it was, she knew nothing of him but that he’d been unable to find a bride in his own kingdom. And, he was willing to purchase a bride. That was a disturbing concept.

  9

  Visions of a far too portly, perhaps grossly unattractive gentleman played through Hazel’s mind as she made her way to the evening meal. Qualms of excessive drinking or cruelty worse than her guardian’s also contributed to the sour stomach she suffered.

  “There you are,” Lady Nora said amicably, taking her by the arm more gently than ever she had. The woman had a part to play this evening and she meant to earn her reward. “My dear, you look lovely,” she said so those nearby would hear.

  Hazel could not seem to muster the smile she knew her guardian desired. She merely nodded a thank you and awaited her fate. With a brow raised, Lady Nora led her through the crowd, stopping to ask someone where she might find Duke Fredrick of Galfree. The gentleman pointed and the woman lost no time in dragging Hazel that way.

  Clearing her throat, Lady Nora proceeded to tap the duke on the shoulder. She was all smiles, prepared to promote her ward as she never had before, but she faltered when he turned around, a look of irritation written plainly on his face. Yet, it was not his expression that made the woman momentarily speechless. It was the fact he was nearly better looking than Prince Armond.

  After a moment, Lady Nora regained her composure and pressed on. “M-may I present my distant cousin and ward, Lady Hazel.” As he held out a hand to greet Hazel, the guardian looked between them as if reconsidering what she had purposed for her shameful ward.

  The man bowed congenially enough but did not appear to be harboring much interest in the introduction. But it was clear Lady Nora had recalculated the reward, for she bid the duke escort her ward to a seat beside him at the feasting table.

  Hazel did not know what to make of this turn of events. Surely, there were far more important aspects to a person than their appearance, but that he should be utterly unable to find a bride to the extent of requiring a reward was quite beyond her. After all, he possessed both looks and fortune as well as a title, even if Galfree was a tiny kingdom.

  “Is… this your first visit to Kierelia, Sir Duke?” she inquired, proud of her effort to overcome her timidity.

  “Indeed,” he replied, making no attempt to further the conversation.

  Starting into the first course, she shrugged. It was just as well he held no interest in her. Not only did she possess no desire of moving so far from her homeland, her heart was spoken for, though none knew it. She glanced down at Armond flirting with Lady Clarice and contemplated whether she preferred this to his consorting with Dianna. Clarice was a benevolent, graceful girl and would make a fine future queen of Kierelia. She supposed, if it came to it, she’d rather he end up with someone who could actually make him happy. But as it was, Armond was beloved of every lady he met. The conversation she witnessed likely meant nothing.

  Noticing that the gentleman on the duke’s left made no attempt at friendliness with his neighbor, Hazel concluded it fell to her to make another attempt at civility. It was queer none seemed interested in speaking with him. She put it down to the fact he had appeared in their kingdom prepared to purchase a bride… That did not reflect well.

  “So, what do you make of our great Kierelia, Duke Fredrick?”

  The man turned to her with a strained face. “I cannot say I care for it.”

  Hazel worked to conceal her offense. “Oh… why ever not?”

  “I have been treated with nothing but contempt by king and gentry from the moment I arrived. It is not at all the reception I expected.”

  She was not surprised to hear this, but that he should have no idea as to why proved him irredeemably blind. “I apologize, sir, for the ill-treatment. I am certain it is not meant personally.”

  “I’m afraid I must disagree,” he persisted, near losing his temper. “It has come across perfectly personal and I cannot understand it. I should think your kingdom would wish to protect its alliance with mine.”

  Was that a threat? If so, it didn’t pack much punch. Galfree was a minor ally and was, moreover, a whole kingdom’s distance apart from them.

  “Do you mean to make trouble, sir?”

  He looked to her with fiery eyes. “Make trouble? I should think Kierelia would fear more than the notion that I may ‘make trouble.’ Indeed, that is the understatement of the decade, what with your enemies in the Deep South planning to swoop in at any moment.”

  Hazel dropped her utensil at that, sending a slightly disruptive rattle through the room. “Do you mean to say you would aid our enemies?” she asked in a whisper.

  He appeared as if he would laugh at her. But mirthlessly, he said, “Certainly not. I mean to say that, if war should reach your borders, I would think our support would be indispensable.”

  She raised her brows, knowing not how to respond to this claim. He was a right fool if he believed Kierelia looked to Galfree for any means of defense when it came to war.

  When the third course was brought, she focused on avoiding any further conversation with the man. Consequently, it was silence for the lot of them, for neither his neighbor nor hers showed any concern for attempting a dialogue. The silence was burst upon, however, when a woman of the gentry, whom Hazel knew to have recently lost her fortune, introduced her daughter to the duke, making it painfully clear how amiable the girl was in character, if not appearance.

  With red face, the duke concluded the conversation as swiftly as possible and turned back to his plate, his breathing heated as his temper appeared to be brewing again.

  “And that is another thing,” he began, “I have never had so many ladies proffered to me in a single day as I have this. For heavens, are there not men enough to be had in your kingdom, Lady Hazel?”

  Her face flushed. This was a personal complaint now and one she’d had no control over. After all, she’d been dreading meeting him from the moment she’d heard of him. Moreover,
she well understood why he’d yet to find a woman willing to wed him.

  “Perhaps,” she began, working to control her own temper, “you should not have arrived in Castlehaven with so much on offer to its ladies. And perhaps those young ladies are no more interested in being hoisted upon you than you are in appreciating them.”

  His brows rose higher than she’d have believed they could. “You think I have any control over what I offer? I am what I was born to. I should think you might understand that.”

  Slowly, she turned to him. “What precisely do you mean to say, Duke?”

  “That I have overheard all about you this day and am shocked King Zephuel would allow his own sister to hoist such a maiden upon me. That you were born of traitors and have since grown to be one is a circumstance on every tongue, leaving me unable to imagine why you are yet welcome in this court. I can only conclude they wish me to take their problem off their hands.”

  Hazel stole a moment. She felt the heat rising in her face. This time, it was from deep-seated loathing. Taking a long breath, she said at last, “Duke Frederick, you have insulted this kingdom beyond belief in your attempts to buy a woman from her courts. It is clear why you have been unable to find a bride, for you have lost the only person at this table who might have been willing to converse with you. Good evening.” With that, she excused herself and quietly meandered into the entertaining room.

  Now perfectly empty, she wished beyond belief it would remain so. But with but a final course to be served, she would soon be joined and ignored by hordes. Her only hope was that she might be able to remain long enough to satisfy her guardian and sneak out as soon as possible. It was beyond her belief that the first people to enter the room should be Dianna and her ladies, soon followed by Armond.

  “Why, it is Lady Hazel,” Dianna said in a light tenor. “Tell me, have you tossed any more unsuspecting princes about since last we met you?”