by Robert Evert
Both Edris and Markus drew their swords.
“Give me the letters,” the man commanded, “and nobody will get hurt.”
Markus eyed the intruder. “I’ve heard your voice before. And I’m sure I’ll hear it again. Are you sure this is how you want to play things?”
Aiming an arrow at Markus’s chest, the masked man drew his bowstring to his ear. “Shut up and give me the letters.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.”
“The letters Lady Louisa gave your brother. Give them to me!”
“Letters?” Markus replied, confused.
“Do you mean this?” Edris rummaged in his pack and held up the letter from his father.
The masked figure’s jaw clenched. “Raaf’s letters, you simpleton.”
“The only thing we have is Raaf’s diary.” Edris took the copy they’d gotten from Upper Angle and tossed it at the man’s feet, hoping he’d bend down to retrieve it. Then he’d rush him. “It’s yours if you want it.”
“It’s worthless. Everybody’s read the diary. I want the letters. Give them to me, or I’ll stick you in your guts.”
“You might get one of us,” Edris said, tightening the grip on his sword. “But there’s three of us against—”
The arrow slammed in Edris’s thigh. He crumpled to the ground, screaming. “Son of a bitch!”
Before Markus or Jacob could react, the archer had another arrow fitted to his bowstring.
“Now there are two of you,” the masked figure said. “Give me the letters, or I’ll aim higher next time.”
“We don’t have any letters.” Markus jabbed his sword into the ground. “Check for yourself.” He gave him his pack. Jacob did the same.
The masked man hunted through their belongings.
“Give me the big fella’s.”
Markus gave him Edris’s pack as he rolled about, clutching his thigh.
The masked man searched through Edris’s things, then swore. “Undo your belts. Move your cloaks aside. Show me what you’re carrying.”
They showed him that they didn’t have any letters tucked behind their backs.
The masked man swore again. “Blast it! If I find you’ve been holding out on me…”
“Trust me,” Edris said through gritted teeth, “if I ever find you, you stinking, little…”
Markus stepped forward, hands raised. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s not one of us. He’s merely my young cousin keeping me company. You have nothing to worry about.”
“If either of you follow me,” the intruder said, withdrawing, “I won’t shoot for the leg.”
“Understood,” Markus said. “Good luck with the quest.”
The masked man scowled, then fled into a small grove of elm trees.
“Good luck on the quest?” Edris snarled. “What the hell was that? You should’ve rushed that bastard.”
Markus jerked the arrow from Edris’s thigh.
“He’s a crack shot. If he wanted to, he could have hit a bone or worse. Best not make enemies when you’re at a disadvantage. Remember that, Eddie.” He examined the wound. “You’ll be fine. Let’s get you to town. You’re no good to me like this.”
Twenty
Later that night, Edris once again found himself in his quarters lying on the sofa, his heavily bandaged leg elevated by a stack of satin pillows.
He picked up his father’s letter, read it for the hundredth time, and then flung it on a stack of dirty dishes.
“Do what need be done,” he said, disgusted.
Markus had practically carried him back to Hillshire. Could he really betray him?
There was a soft knock on the door. Edris knew instantly who it was.
Reluctantly, he called, “Enter.”
Lady Louisa entered bearing a silver tray laden with grapes, white bread, and a slab of pink lamb that filled the entire plate. When she saw the other trays on the table, she laughed. “I suppose you won’t be needing any of this.”
With the assistance of a cane, Edris fought his way to his feet. His leg throbbed, but the pain was manageable.
“Thank you, my lady. It smells wonderful.”
“My, you’re being awfully formal.” She set the tray next to the others. “Please sit. I know you must be in agony.”
Edris sat. The lady moved the cushions upon which his leg had been propped and sat next to him.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, rubbing his uninjured thigh. “Anything at all?”
Edris tensed as her hand slid higher.
“I’m sure I can find some way to take your mind off of your discomfort.” She leaned closer, her warm lips kissing his neck.
Edris shot to his feet.
“I’m…I’m sorry.” He hobbled away, putting a chair between them. “This is inappropriate.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re betrothed to my cousin!”
“At the moment, I’m not betrothed to anybody.”
“But you…you could be my queen someday!”
“And you think queens are all pure as new fallen snow, is that it?”
“Well…”
“Oh, please!” She hooted. “I suppose you think that men in my position are all chaste too?”
“That’s different.”
“How?” Lady Louisa cried.
“They’re men! Men are…you know.”
“Womanizing asses?” She folded her legs under her as though she were sitting up all night, chatting with one of her girlfriends. “Eddie, women and men aren’t all that different. We enjoy the thrill of the hunt too.”
“Thrill of the hunt?”
“Yes!” She shook her head as though seeing him as an adolescent boy, rather than a desirable young man. “Women enjoy being pursued. And we enjoy being the pursuer. And—” She shrugged. “—we enjoy sex just as much as men do.”
Edris glanced toward the window, yearning to escape through it.
Lady Louisa huffed in disbelief. “You believe we’re all delicate little flowers, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that!”
“But you thought it! I can tell.” She tied her hair into a bun. “I keep forgetting how young you are. You have a great deal to learn about women.”
“Tell me about it.”
“If you’re not interested in me, simply say so. You won’t break my fragile female heart. Women might not be as physically strong as men, but we’re a lot stronger in other ways. Trust me. We can handle disappointment. If a man doesn’t give us what we want, we’re perfectly capable of moving on. We’re not going to hide in some tower, pining away until old age takes us.”
Edris took a deep, uneasy breath. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I’m not interested or anything, but…you see, there’s a girl back home. And, well…she means a great deal to me.”
Lady Louisa smiled fondly at him. “That’s really sweet. I hope she knows how lucky she is.”
“I hope she is as lucky as she deserves.”
A tear tumbled down Lady Louisa’s cheek. She brushed it away. “So, help me if you are saying those things so that I’ll be more attracted to you!”
“I’m not! The whole reason I’m helping Markus is to earn enough money so that, if my father disowns me, Bea and I could go off on our own.”
“Bea?”
“That’s what I call her. Her name is Beatrice.”
“She sounds pretty.”
“She is. Beautiful, in fact.”
“Well,” Lady Louisa said, standing up, “I was hoping to have a stimulating evening—but I see you’re in love, and I won’t get in the way of that. Though, I must say—” She surveyed his muscular body, disappointed. “—you present a tempting trophy.” She curtseyed formally. “I bid you good night, Edris. You’ll make a wonderful husband someday.”
“Thank you, my lady. Again, I’m sincerely sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. But don’t become like other men. You hear me? Men of honor
are as rare as quest items. Good night.”
Edris called to her before she could leave.
“May I ask you something?”
She stopped.
“What?”
Edris gestured to a book next to the trays of food. “You knew about the diary and its connection to the quest.”
“Who do you think got it for Merrick? The games women play, remember?”
“Yes, I understand,” Edris said before she could finish closing the door. “One more thing, if you don’t mind.”
She waited.
“When we were attacked…” Edris tried to recall the exact wording. “…the bowman mentioned you and asked if we had the letters . Know what he was talking about?”
Lady Louisa sighed dramatically. “You want them as well?”
“I don’t know. Do they have anything to do with the quest?”
“Perhaps. They’re from Raaf. One was written the day he disappeared.”
“You’re kidding me! Can I read them?”
She considered him.
“Oh, very well. I was going to use them to make Merrick do a few special things for me. But I suppose I could let you have them.”
“Thank you! Thank you very much! They might be what we need to win this quest.”
“Just make sure this Beatrice appreciates the sacrifice I’m making for her happiness.”
Twenty-One
“Raaf wasn’t even in Hillshire when he died?” Markus asked, shocked.
He, Edris, and Merrick were sitting by a window in Markus’s parlor, discussing their next move. They were at a dead end, unable to decide what to do, until Edris showed them the letters Lady Louisa had given him.
“According to what I read; he was in Strombath.” Edris searched the pile of papers and found the two he was looking for. “They’re dated within five days of his disappearance. One is to his father. The other to his sister, Rachel. But,” he added, trying to contain his mounting excitement, “they could be fake.”
“Perhaps.” Markus examined the letters. “Though the handwriting is similar to what’s in the original diary.”
“You’d be surprised what forgers could do,” Merrick said. “But you’re right. They look like they were written by the same person. See how he signs his name? It’s almost identical to the diary.”
“And there’s an entry in the diary saying he was feeling ill,” Edris said. “That seems to coincide with what these letters are saying.”
“When did he write that?” Markus asked.
Edris flipped through one of the journals. “The fifth-to-last entry of the original states: The distress in my gut hasn’t subsided. The healers have suggested I take to the waters .” Edris checked the other diary. “The copy from Upper Angle has the same entry, but it is the sixth to last.”
“The waters…” Markus repeated.
“Strombath is known for its hot springs,” Merrick said. “Even Father has been there.”
Markus stroked his chin, thinking. “Other than the last entry, is the copy from Upper Angle identical to what is written in the original?”
“What we assume is the original, you mean,” Merrick corrected. “This could all be a wild goose chase. I can’t believe nobody has read these letters before.”
“Good point.”
“I’ve only begun to read the original, but…” Edris consulted both books. “They appear very similar. There are words in the original that are crossed out and don’t appear in the copy, but everything else seems verbatim.”
Markus strolled about the polished parquet floor. “Everybody’s looking in the wrong place.”
“So, it would seem,” his brother replied. “But we still don’t know where around Strombath Raaf was killed. I’ve been there many times. It’s a small hamlet, but the hills are woven with trails. He could’ve been killed anywhere.”
“And his body could’ve been buried anywhere.”
“Exactly.”
“What’s our next move?” Edris asked, the exhilaration he’d felt at finding such an important clue dissipating into disappointment.
“We need to get to Strombath and have a look around,” Markus said. “The issue is how. The moment we leave here, we’ll have half the adventurers on the continent following us. We need a diversion.”
“You could head in the opposite direction,” Merrick offered. “Then circle around to Strombath from the north.”
Markus shook his head. “No. They’ll follow me wherever I go.”
“Then you need a plausible excuse to leave Hillshire. Something that’ll throw them off your trail.”
“Yes, but what?”
A company of the king’s archers practiced in the courtyard; the thwap of their arrows striking targets punctured the heavy silence.
“How did you come across these, by the way?” Merrick asked Edris.
“Yes, how did you find them?” Markus added. “It was the stroke of good fortune we were lacking. You’re quickly earning your five hundred gold!”
“They were in the king’s library.”
He’d hoped that that was a sufficient explanation, but Merrick pushed on. “Yes, but how did you get access to them? You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had to do to get my hands on Raaf’s original diary.”
Edris blushed.
“I bet,” Markus said, chuckling, “our little cousin had to do many of the same things.”
“What?” Merrick cried.
Edris’s ears burned red.
“You slept with her?”
“Absolutely not!”
“But you did something other than sleeping, didn’t you?” Markus prodded.
“I swear on my mother’s life,” Edris protested, “I did nothing—”
“I can’t believe this!” Merrick said, tossing his hands.
“Oh, come on, Merrick. You knew how she was before you started with her. Besides—” Markus grinned. “At least she’s staying within the family.”
“That’s hardly any consolation!”
“On my honor—” Edris interjected, but nobody was paying any attention.
“Were you really going to marry her?” Markus asked his brother. “Seriously?”
“Maybe!”
“Maybe isn’t good enough, Merrick. You know the rules. Anybody without a ring on her finger is fair game.”
Merrick slumped in a chair, grumbling.
“Speaking of letters,” Markus said to Edris. “What did your father have to say?”
“The same as always,” Edris replied, happy for the change in topic. “He basically told me what I needed to do to prepare for the spring.”
Merrick gave a bitter grunt. “Come spring, I should tell Kriton to give it to you good. Sleeping with my precious bride-to-be. Who does that?”
“Dammit, I told you,” Edris sputtered. “I didn’t—”
“You slept with Prince Kendal’s wife!” Markus said to Merrick.
Merrick hushed him, shooting an anxious glance at the closed door. “That was completely different. She initiated the affair.”
“I didn’t sleep with her!” Edris insisted.
“Sure, you didn’t.”
Edris placed a hand over his heart. “My word to the gods!”
“Yes, well,” Merrick said. “I’ll forgive you, Eddie. But I should warn you, other men might not be as kind as I. You’d best learn some restraint. Sleeping with another man’s woman is a good way to get killed. You have to be discreet.”
“You slept with Hamilton’s wife as well,” Markus stated. “The day after they got married, in fact.”
A sly smirk broke over Merrick’s lips. “She was still thin then. Got as huge as a whale once she had her first child. Hamilton deserves her.”
“For the record, absolutely nothing happened,” Edris said defiantly. “We only talked. That’s all!”
“I bet, Eddie,” Markus said. “But I believe we’re drifting off track.”
“What were we discussing?” Merrick asked
. “Besides not sleeping with your cousin’s soon-to-be fiancée?”
“We need a reason to leave Hillshire,” Markus said. “Something plausible enough so that the others won’t follow us.”
“Any ideas?”
Markus shook his head. “Not a one.”
“My letter!” Edris exclaimed, pulling it from his pocket.
“What about it?” Markus asked.
“We can say I have to return to Bend. People will know I got mail from my father. I could let slip that he’s demanding I stop frolicking around and return home. Anybody who knows him will believe that to be the king’s truth.”
“And you’d need aid getting there because of your leg,” Markus said, mulling it over.
“Exactly.”
Markus and Merrick regarded each other.
“That could work,” Merrick conceded.
“No, it won’t,” Markus said. “Nobody’s going to believe I’m giving up the hunt this early.”
“You don’t have to pretend you’re giving up the hunt. In fact, you should tell people you’re mad as hell you have to leave the trail temporarily to bring your baby cousin home. Besides, what other option do you have?”
“None, seemingly.” Markus sighed at Edris. “How’s your leg? Can you travel?”
“I can’t run on it, but I can ride.”
“Hmm.” Markus leaned on the windowsill, watching the archers take aim. Another series of thwacks filed the courtyard. “Let’s put a splint on it. Make it look like it’s broken. Hobble around a lot. That might do the trick.”
“So, we’re headed to Bend?” Edris asked, not looking forward to seeing his father.
“Yes. It’ll be a couple weeks out of our way, but if we can throw off any pursuers, it will be time well spent. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow.”
Twenty-Two
Two days later, Markus and Edris set out for Bend. To confuse would-be followers, they openly took the main road out of Hillshire and rode at an unhurried pace. Markus also sent his squire home to Upper Angle.
“So, tell me,” Markus said as their horses trotted along a country lane. “How was she?”
Edris rubbed his injured leg. He could walk with the assistance of a cane, but it throbbed continuously, and the jarring motions of his horse didn’t help matters. “What are you talking about?”