“Ouch! Dammit, that hurt!”
Will shook himself from his thoughts and, grinning, turned to the two figures hurrying across the courtyard toward him from the barn. Colin was shaking his head, struggling to look disapproving while doing his best to hide his smirk. Tall, his golden hair fell forward, and his green eyes were bright with suppressed laughter.
Beside him, Rowan either didn’t notice or didn’t care, his hand pressed to his mouth, muffling more oaths. Thin and lanky like his own knight, Rowan struck a contrast to Colin’s composed manner with his disheveled brown hair and narrowed brown eyes. He pulled his hand from his mouth to inspect it for a moment, then pressed it back, swearing again.
“If Ross hears you, you’ll be cleaning stalls another week,” warned Colin, glancing back over his shoulder toward the barn. “He’s been in a mood of late so you might not want to test him.”
Rowan removed his hand from his mouth again, shaking it out. “When is he not in a mood? Anyway, he can bite me for all I care, the grouchy git.”
“Watch it, the way he growls all the time, he might actually do that,” Will said, patting the sparse grass beside him. “Pull up a dirt and stay awhile. How’s fixing your bridle going?”
Rowan laughed darkly, flopping into the grass and holding his hand out for Will to see. “I nearly amputated my arm with that bloody needle! Look! Look at it! Pouring blood! I swear, had there been a lady there, she would have fainted. It’s just that bad!”
Will fought the urge to laugh as he looked at the small puncture, the skin around it red. “I guess you'll have a scar to show off?”
“It's how he's going to impress ladies when he's older,” Colin confided, lowering himself down with more grace than Rowan.
“Shove off, you bugger.” Rowan aimed a swipe at Colin, which missed.
Grinning, Will shrugged. “I mean, if it’s scars that are going to help you get a lady, you should break your bridle more often. You need all the help you can get.”
Colin doubled with howls of laughter and Rowan whipped round to attack. This time he was faster, cuffing Will in the back of the head. “Twerp!”
Laughing, Will pushed Rowan away, flattening his hair again. “Knock it off. You’ll hurt your hand, Princess.”
“I don’t know, Will,” Colin chimed in, scooting out of Rowan’s reach. “I don’t think a lady would complain as much about a stab with a needle. Maybe Rockwood should ask for your father to send your sister to train as a knight instead?”
“You know,” said Rowan conversationally, leaning back to sit on his heels and surveying them both through narrowed eyes, “I hate you. I hate you both. When I’m Lord of Lonric, I’m declaring war on you, Greyhead, and putting a price on Will’s head. Or, worse, I’ll make you two look out for my sister. That’d be a punishment alright. Crazy girl…”
“You know how bored you would be if we weren’t here?” Will raised his eyebrows.
“If you weren’t here, I’d be living peacefully,” Rowan grumbled, grabbing a handful of grass and letting it float in the breeze.
“Peacefully? With you in the castle?” Colin snorted. “I’m pretty sure that Will doesn’t cause half the mayhem you do.”
“I feel attacked right now.” Rowan sighed dramatically.
“And I feel restless,” Will grumbled, pushing himself off the earth and brushing his hands free of dirt. His muscles were stiff from sitting, his body aching with the long practice he had had that morning with Haru and Robin, working on quarterstaff fighting. It had turned out that Robin was quite good at it, knocking both Will and Haru to the ground with ease.
After that, Haru had made Robin drill them both over and over until he was bruised and sweat-soaked, not giving him a chance to work on anything else before the two knights had been ordered onto an Eastern Forest patrol with Sir Don and his squire, Novin, the oldest squire and one of the few being permitted to the far east patrols.
Ever since the battles of the winter anyone not old enough to have their own sword–any squire under seventeen–had been banned from the Eastern Forest. They had to content themselves with the western patrols. Those were boring in comparison to the prospect of attack to the east, but Will had learned that boring wasn’t always a bad thing.
“If you’re about to suggest we go practice, I’ll kick your teeth out and shave your head,” Rowan moaned, laying back. Colin stifled a snort of laughter in a cough.
“You have such a lovely personality,” Will commented dryly. “No, I’m not making you do anything. I just want to work Vis. You can stay here and rest.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll come, you can stop your begging.” Rowan climbed to his feet, shaking the grass from his tunic like a dog in water. “Col, you up for some mayhem and horses? Watching Will try to tame the fire-breathing dragon?”
Colin glanced at the tree overhead and Will could see his hesitation. After a pause he stood with a resigned sigh. “If I don’t go, I know I’ll regret it later. It’d be like that time Rowan found the tunnels and talked you back into them. Actually, I somewhat do wish I’d missed that one. Not sure I fully forgive your stupidity for that, Will.”
“Why just me?” Will demanded, laughing. “It was Rowan’s idea in the first place!”
“Yeah, but he expects you to be the thinker out of the two of us,” Rowan said, rolling his eyes.
“Exactly.” Colin grinned, raising his eyebrows.
Will grimaced. “You’ve got a point. Perhaps not my best moment.”
“We all make mistakes, Will.” Rowan thumped him on the back. “You just made a bigger mistake than most by following me.”
A clatter in the direction of the drawbridge made all three squires turn, Will’s hand automatically reaching for the dagger on his belt, his muscles tensing after the months of always being on edge for the attacks from the tunnel people. There was no screaming horde in red robes, however. Instead, a single rider, slumped forward in the saddle, was barely managing to rein the horse to a halt in the courtyard. The sea-green cloak that hung from the rider’s shoulders was mud splattered and torn, the tears revealing the dull gleam of chainmail hanging limply from the thin frame. The rider was doubled forward, one hand still clutching the horse’s reins, the other clasped the handle of a sword that swayed at the saddle’s side.
The warmth of the sun moments before vanished, replaced with a chill as every eye from the courtyard and the walls above turned to watch the rider. Taking a ragged breath, the rider straightened, the shadowed green eyes taking in the surroundings, the silent spectators. Out of the corner of his eye, Will saw the brown-haired and broad-shouldered form of Sir Ross, Colin’s knight, striding from the barn. He paused several feet away, reaching for the rough-cut blue stone hilt of the sword on his side, blue eyes fastened on the rider.
“Revlan, I must speak with King Revlan,” rasped the rider, sagging forward again.
Ross didn’t hesitate but launched himself toward the horse, reaching the rider’s side as her eyelids fluttered and the woman fell, unconscious, against the neck of her exhausted horse.
CHAPTER TWO
“Who do you think she is?”
Will sank onto the foot of his bed in the squires’ chamber, frowning at his boots. Outside the window, the shadows of the castle stretched to darken the walls around it, the final moments of the day fading into the earliest breaths of night.
“How the blazes would I know? It’s not like she and I caught up any more than you got to before she passed out,” Rowan replied, lounging on his back on his bed, his head lolling off the foot of his mattress.
“I think that was rhetorical,” Colin said, sniggering and leaning his shoulder against the wall between his and Will’s beds. “I think the blood rushing to your head is making you a bit thicker than you already are.”
“Watch it, Greyhead, or I’ll knock your teeth loose.”
“You’re full of the best threats today, aren’t you?”
Ignoring his friends, Will shook his hea
d. “Where do you think she came from?”
“You want the long answer about the birds and the bees or-”
“Rowan!” Colin snapped.
“What? I’m trying to offer Will’s restless mind some reprieve!”
“You’re ridiculous.” Colin rolled his eyes to the ceiling, pushing himself off the wall. He turned to Will, crossing his arms and frowning, though Will could tell it was more in concentration than annoyance. “All I can think is that she would be from Kelkor.”
“Kelkor?” Will asked, bemused. “What makes you say that?”
“Don’t you remember Laster telling us that Kelkor has lady knights?” Rowan lifted himself into a seated position, throwing out his arms to balance. “Bloody Thornten, I’m dizzy.”
“Then stop hanging upside down, you’re not a bat,” Colin suggested, snorting with laughter as Rowan swayed on his bed, hands clamped on either side of his head. “If you fall off that bed, I’m never letting you live it down.”
“You think she’s a knight?” Will forced the conversation back on track.
“Probably.” Colin shrugged. Will could tell he wasn’t as interested in the subject as he himself was. “I can’t think of another reason for the armor and weapon. Probably sent as a messenger or something.”
“Why would she be sent in that state from Kelkor to here?”
“Come off it Will, don’t be thick. She didn’t leave in that condition,” Rowan said, pulling his hands from his face. He gave his head an experimental shake. “She probably got either lost or met bandits or rogues or something.”
“I’ve heard that path isn’t the safest,” Colin agreed sagely.
“But what kind of message could be that important to not take a moment’s rest somewhere?” Will pressed on. It was frustrating him that neither of his friends seemed as interested as he was in this woman’s appearance.
“I mean, the King of Kelkor is King Revlan’s brother. It could be anything from catching up to something worse,” Colin answered.
“Do you think it could be something worse?” Will asked, stiffening.
“Oh, drop it, Will, we will either find out if something’s wrong or we will be kept in the dark,” Rowan grumbled. “Blazes of Thornten, I could be sick.”
Annoyed, Will opened his mouth to retort then closed it, running a hand through his hair and letting his shoulders sag at the realization that what Rowan said was true. They would either find out or they wouldn’t. This burning curiosity wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “Right… you’re right.”
“It always concerns me when someone says that Rowan is right,” Colin said, grinning. “But more concerning still is when I agree that he is right.”
“Been telling you two for a while now that I am a remarkable minded genius, you two just don’t appreciate it with your minds of muck and moronic woes.”
Will managed a snort of laughter, shaking his head. They were right. So far in his time as a squire, he had learned that the knights, the Ranger, and the King kept their secrets well-hidden until others needed to know them.
“Speaking of things only we need to know…”
Will turned to Colin who was grinning, green eyes alight with mischief. “Did you two hear that we’re getting two new squires next week?”
“Oh yeah?” Will straightened. Apart from Airagon joining the castle after Will, Rowan, and Colin had pulled him from the tunnels, there hadn’t been any squires who joined since he himself had come to Alamore. “Who?”
“Couple of the pages.” Colin shrugged.
“Gabe and Jerram?” Rowan raised his eyebrows. Colin gave a curt nod and Rowan gave a maniacal cackle, rubbing his hands together. “Excellent! My guidance can begin again!”
“Guidance? Begin again?” Will looked between Rowan and Colin. “Colin, what the blazes is the crazy one on about?”
Chuckling, Colin ran a hand over his jaw, lost in some memory. “When we were pages, those two were a year behind us. Rowan always made it his duty to get them into as much trouble as possible. He called it teaching mischief or some stupid thing.”
“It’s called mentoring in mayhem and I don’t appreciate you calling it stupid,” Rowan grumbled, pushing himself to his feet. “But what I would appreciate is something to eat. I’m half starved.”
Will nodded, his stomach growling appreciatively of Rowan’s words. “I could go for something to eat now too, actually.”
“How did you hear those two are becoming squires anyhow?” Rowan asked as they crossed the room.
“Sir Miller told me,” said Colin, holding the door for Rowan and Will to pass through first. “He was working with Ross and me today on archery and mentioned that he’d be taking on Gabe as his squire.”
Food wafted to Will’s nose, causing his mouth to water and he turned away from Rowan and Colin’s conversation and toward the massive dinner hall and, more importantly, the two tables. The nearer table–long and down the center of the room–was where the knights sat. This one was empty of food or people. He guessed that the knights were still attending to the stranger who had arrived, while the other table–round and at the further edge from the squire chamber door–had been covered in platters and dishes, the smells of which made his stomach grumble louder.
Several squires were already seated at the table, serving themselves and talking animatedly when Will, Rowan, and Colin reached them. Will flopped into his usual seat, Rowan and Colin taking the chairs on his either side. All three reached for different dishes.
“I could eat an army,” Rowan moaned, staring longingly at the plates around him.
“That’s a good thing to keep in mind! Next time we’ve got Thornten knocking at the door to come in and kill us, we’ll just send you to greet them then, aye?” cracked Loper, a red-haired and freckled boy, a couple years their elder, seated across the table from them.
“Send him on Will’s fire breathing nag and we’ll not only defeat their army but conquer their Kingdom,” Saget, lanky and yellow-haired and seated on Loper’s right, said wisely.
Heaping his plate, Will shook his head but grinned, listening to his friends discuss the fierce army they could create with a band of hungry Rowans and foul tempered Visra.
Before Will had finished his first helping of everything on the table, they were joined by two of the older squires, Delvin–shaggy brown hair falling nearly to his thick brows–and Novin–a burly black-haired boy with a round open face. They joined into the conversation eagerly. It grew louder and more ridiculous, the squires creating elaborate battle strategies based on Rowan’s appetite.
“You lot hear anything yet about this woman rider?”
Will’s attention broke from the conversation as Vancely, a tall squire with dark curls and clear brown eyes, sank into the seat next to Saget, brows raised.
“We were in the courtyard when she rode in,” answered Colin, shaking his head. “She didn’t seem in a good state.”
“No, no, she didn’t,” Vancely agreed sagely.
“Have you heard anything about her then?” Will asked. Next to him, he heard Rowan’s muffled groan and was certain his friend had rolled his eyes.
Vancely snorted, annoyed. “Not really. I was training with Airagon in the indoor practice court upstairs with Laster and the King, then Haru showed up to get them. The King told Airagon he should come along to the council. I tried to convince Laster, but you know him.” He curled his lip in a mocking sneer and impersonated his knight’s snide tones. “The knights’ council isn’t a matter for squires, as I would have hoped you understood by the name.”
All of the squires at the table broke into laughter at this. Will had to thump Rowan on the back as he choked on a piece of bread he’d been eating.
“But Airagon got to go,” pointed out Colin once the laughs had subsided. “He should have let you go.”
“Well, what the King decides to do with Airagon is up to him, isn’t it? He’s the King’s squire. I don’t think Laster was going to tell him he
disapproved of it,” Vancely said, rolling his eyes. “But, either way, I’d have liked to go. I haven’t been to a council in ages and this one was probably going to be interesting.”
“I’d have liked to go myself,” Novin agreed, nodding.
“Not much longer though and you’ll be going as Sir Novin!” Loper punched Novin in the arm playfully and the older squire’s face turned red with a pleased embarrassment.
“You can’t leave us now!” Rowan slapped his palms on the table. “Who will be the voice of reason if you get knighted? Haru’s gone, Robin’s a knight too, and if you go I’ll end up without any guidance or morals, wicked in my ways and-”
“Oh, shut up.” Colin reached around Will to cuff Rowan in the back of the head, laughing.
The conversation shifted again, back to good natured dispute between the squires, but Will sank into silence, the uneasy feeling returning. He could tell Colin had noticed and, occasionally, his friend would shoot him a questioning look. Giving an almost imperceptible headshake, Will signaled that he didn’t want to discuss it. Not now, when all the others were having so much fun. He wasn’t about to be the one to spoil it for the rest of them.
Still, there was something going on; he could feel it. It was the sensation he’d noticed crackling through the castle over the winter when the advisor for Shadow Dale, Sir Dannix, had been brutally murdered. Then it had been the strife between Alamore and Shadow Dale that had coursed through the castle when Alamore refused to attack Thornten, guessing correctly that it was a trap. This feeling was the same as that had been. An uneasiness. Only this time he couldn’t place it. The only thing that had happened was the appearance of the rider.
Will was so lost in his own thoughts that it was a moment before he realized the hair had risen on the back of his neck. A shiver ran down his spine and the sensation of being watched made him stiffen. He twisted in his seat and glimpsed the darkness in the doorway leading to the entry hall shift. A shadow that seemed to move apart from the others, darker than the rest, flitting out of sight.
The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2) Page 3