Karlene glared at her. “No. Thank you, Ellie. I’ll stay here and rest a bit. But you go ahead.”
“As you will,” said Ellie, and she headed off into the woods, leaving Nikolis and Karlene behind her. An awkward silence far worse than the first followed, until Karlene sat up, pulled in her legs, and wrapped her arms around them.
“Nikolis,” she said, looking up at him. He turned and forced himself to meet her gaze. Cool blue eyes stared at him, from a soft face framed in auburn hair. “Come sit.” She patted the blanket beside her.
He froze in terror, unable to move.
“Come on,” she said, a bit impatiently.
Why could she possibly want me to sit by her? What has happened? What is going on?
Slowly, very slowly, he moved from the horses and over to the blanket. He matched her gaze all the while, which seemed, evidenced by her widening grin, to cause her some joy, and then took a seat down beside her.
“Isn’t that better?”
Nikolis nodded. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. What does she want from me?
“You look very handsome in your new coat.” She touched his arm, feeling the fabric of the garment. Instinctively he pulled away, though he cursed himself under his breath as soon as he did.
Karlene wrinkled her nose, looking confused. For a moment he couldn’t help but think that even then she looked so pretty. Their eyes met, their gazes locked. Karlene’s lips turned up in a slight smile. For a moment Nikolis let down his guard and started to smile as well. He felt her hand touch his leg and suddenly his face was burning. He looked away.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. He knew what he felt for her, wished that he could say it, but he could not. A lady of noble birth could not feel the same for him as he did for her. A man of such lowly birth, even if he was now a member of the King’s Shield, could never win her affection. She could never return the feelings of anyone but an equal, a noble, heir to a lordship of title and estate. That is simply how things were. The attentions she paid to him were only a kindness, nothing more. Perhaps thanks for saving her on the ledge that day. He must prevent himself from reading more into it, from fanciful imaginings that could not be.
But there she was touching his arm again. Their eyes met and for a moment and it almost seemed as if they were seeing into each other, some unimaginable connection flowing between them that couldn’t be explained. He had no idea why, but something brought his hand up to the smooth skin of her cheek. They moved toward one another and their lips met. The kiss was sweet, Karlene’s hand finding his own cheek, her fingers running over his freshly-shaven skin.
What seemed like an eternity passed, and then they were apart again, both breathing heavily, their eyes once again locked. A cough from behind turned their heads and shattered the moment. Ellie Arbor was walking toward them, and she had no wild flowers in her hands. The pair mounted up quickly thereafter, Nikolis handing reins to both Ellie and Karlene, though the latter he did with much more tenderness and not a small amount of embarrassment.
On the ride back little was said amongst them. Only Karlene and Ellie exchanged whispers every once and a while, without a glance back in Nikolis’ direction. He felt his face getting more and more heated by the moment and wished only to be back at the keep. Purging his mind of all thoughts proved a difficult task. Thoughts of his parents’ betrayal came then, as always, and what was to come between them? By tradition the King’s Shield did not marry, and he was of low-birth besides.
When Highkeep finally came into view on the horizon, he breathed a sigh of relief. They made the steep climb up to the postern gate and were soon trotting down the yard toward the stable. Nikolis practically vaulted off of his horse and handed his reins to a stable boy. Then he helped Ellie and Karlene down, averting his eyes all the while, and led their horses away. By the time Nikolis came out of the keep, having spent as much time as possible boarding their mounts, the pair was making their way across their yard, to the rear castle entrance.
One last glance from Karlene, a sly smile from over her shoulder, sent Nikolis’ heart racing and his throat began to feel as if it were going to swell shut. He had leave to rest after that, which was fortunate, so he made his way to a small chamber on the second level of the castle that was now where he would sleep. It had but one narrow, window that faced toward the southwest, the rear of the castle. It afforded a clear view of the yard and little else. It was the same cell any servant of Highkeep might get, albeit their chambers may very well adjoin those of their masters, but he wasn’t bothered. A room was but a place to rest his head after a long day.
Hours must have passed as he lay on his pallet, staring up at the ceiling. He might have lied there on into the night if not for a knock that came at his chamber door. He found Jak, Raife, and Garley without, looking excited. Following them up the winding servant passageways and then to a top landing of the keep. There was a time that they wouldn’t have dared to come up here, but now with Garley’s brother in the guard, and Nikolis himself in the King’s Shield, there wasn’t much anyone would say to stop them. Nikolis felt a tinge of guilt at using his position for gain but imagined at the very least he was surveying the halls.
Outside the air was cool and the sun had nearly set. Torches lit the keep walls and lined the bridge that spanned the moat between the castle gate and the landing on the other side. A procession could be seen making its way through the town streets, and toward the keep. Though they were coming slowly, within moments the band was marching down the wide avenue that ended at the bridge. Several men on foot came first, dressed in tabards of green and black. A crest of three black towers was sewn on their chests and iron spears rested over their shoulders.
After that came men on dark horses, similarly attired, though wearing chain and plate. A tall golden-haired man was visible in the midst of them, sitting astride a stallion with a magnificent brown coat. What was not covered by his flowing green surcoat was adorned in armored plate that shone like gold in the torchlight.
It was clear from the crest that these were men from the north, from Terloch Towers. As his friends told it, a delegation had come to treat and pay their respects to King Alginor. It had been countless years since anyone from the north had come to Highkeep, their sire Owyn Dangard well known for his claim that his hands were full defending the Northern Front from the raiders that came down from the mountains.
They had not come unannounced, but apparently their arrival had not been expected until many days hence. They had encountered trouble on the road and had had to fight their way through a mob of raiders that had somehow gotten around the defenses of their towers and were awaiting them in ambush on the northern road. It was obvious they had known the band would be riding when they were, and it was only through vigorous combat and a forced march of many days that they had gotten here at all, and with few casualties.
As it were Nikolis did now see men sprawled out on simple litters of cloth stretched between long wooden poles. Bandages stained with blood covered legs or were wrapped around heads. It was a sickly sight. None could say if any of noble blood, and therefore of real interest to the castle gossipers, had been injured.
Once they were all inside, Nikolis realized he should probably report to Rogett Gilford, and see if there was any need of him. He bid his friends farewell and headed into the keep. He knew the party would pay their respects to the king in his private chambers on the uppermost levels of the keep, and that Rogett and most likely Raymon Brime, would be there. So, he climbed the stairs and winding corridors up toward the room that still made his blood turn cold when he but thought about it. The King’s Privy Chamber was the source of many painful memories from his years at the keep, being that it was the place in which he was most often disciplined.
The closer he got to the chamber, the more men in green and black he saw. Of course, those in red and white were just as plentiful, and in fact the two spoke genially to one an
other, asking of the battle, and of the road from the north. It occurred to Nikolis that the Highkeep guards got along far better with those from Terloch Tower, then they ever did with Seaport men. At the entrance to the king’s chamber he found Darus Lewin guarding the door. “Delegation from the Towers,” Darus said, nodding toward the inner chamber.
Nikolis nodded. “Am I needed?”
“You might as well attend. Find a place toward the back. Keep an eye out.”
As Nikolis moved to pass him by, Darus grabbed him by the arm. “How’s our Lady of Highkeep?” he asked.
“Karlene?” Nikolis asked. “I mean…the Lady Ryland?”
Darus nodded.
“She is fine.” Nikolis was confused, and apparently it showed for Darus Lewin started to explain.
“She is your charge now, Nikolis. You are to guard her day and night. She is your responsibility.” If that was meant to quell his confusion, it only made things worse.
“It was she that proposed to the King that you be given the grey coat,” Darus went on. “After that it just fit together. We are to protect all members of the royal line, after all, and you two are of an age.” Nikolis shrank visibly, and again Darus must have noticed. “Fret not, Ledervane,” he said. “It does not lessen the honor. In our history we cannot find a man named to the King’s Shield at such a young age. There are others who spoke on your behalf.” Nikolis looked up at this. Did he mean the master of arms? The King even?
“Who?”
“Andrew Dubrey, for one, before he died.” A wound in Nikolis’ heart reopened at the mention of the man’s name, as much as he took pride in the fact that such a man had vouched for him. “Why Camber and Moore let that happen is beyond me,” Lewin went on. When Nikolis looked to him in question, he straightened as if he had said something ill advised. He nodded toward the doorway. “You’d best go in.”
Inside the small hall the main body of the northern delegation was spread out. The golden-haired man in his golden armor was just now bowing his head and kneeling down before the king, who was seated as usual on his throne, Rogett and Raymon on either side of him. The kneeling man was young, perhaps only five years older than Nikolis, and his beard was trimmed so close to his skin that it appeared as only a light dusting on his face. His surcoat was of the finest material, the darkest of greens, and bore the three towers of his house beautifully picked out in golden thread, even though Nikolis had not thought this the custom of northern nobility.
“Who is this I see before me?” the king asked, with only as much anger as his apparent weariness would allow.
“It is I, Your Grace,” the young man responded, apparently knowing better than to rise just yet. “Vayne Dangard, son of Owyn Dangard, Lord of Terloch Towers, and Regent of the North.”
“The last I saw of you, you were a squealing brat, running about with your sister, what was her name?”
“Vanya, Your Grace. I am here as well.” A young woman, tall and slender, adorned in a long gown of the same dark green, stood and made herself visible. Her hair was as golden as her brother’s and her gown was belted at the waist with a string of emeralds that brought out the green of her eyes.
“Ah, yes. That was the name,” said the king, looking off. A hand came up and began to work at his chin, through the long white hair of his beard. After a few moments went by Rogett Gilford stepped forward and leaned down toward the king.
“Your Grace,” he whispered in prompt.
“Hm?” the king said in question, looking over at his guardsman. “Oh…ah, yes. Where was I?” He looked over and caught Vayne’s confused gaze. The old king scowled at him, then demanded, “Why hasn’t the Regent himself graced me with his presence?”
“My lord father begs your forgiveness, Your Grace,” Vayne said, with all possible eloquence. “Raids from the north have increased drastically this season. It is all we can do to keep them at bay. The raiders grow bold.”
“Yes,” said the king, sitting back. “I hear you were attacked on the road by these raiders. On this side of the tower perimeter.”
Vayne took this slight gracefully, nodding and saying, “Regrettably, Your Grace, a rare party occasions to get past our ever-diligent efforts. They are always apprehended well before they get to any establishment of worth. Not farmstead nor holdfast has been attacked in years.”
“Yes, your father’s efforts are admirable,” said the king, with a sneer. Then he steered the conversation to other topics, speaking of trade, and winter stores for the tower. It was light fare, nothing much of consequence. When the hour grew so late that it could more aptly be called early, the king finally said, “I shall not keep you any longer. You and your party may retire to the chambers provided.” At that the old man rose and exited the room through a small door behind the throne, escorted on either side by Gilford and Brime.
When he was gone the formality in the room melted away, and men who knew each other by face or only by reputation, began to speak. Goblets of wine were passed around, jests were shouted back and forth, and stories shared.
A young man beside Vayne was introduced as Malister Ollyn. He was prim and proper with a well-tamed mane of dark hair. They called Ollyn the House of the Rooster, for their crest was that of the proud cock. Malister was dressed in the browns and greens and reds of his family’s bird and bore their sigil on his chest. On the other side of the visiting noble was another young man called Tadlym Draver. He bore no finery, crest or fancy clothing, and his name was simple and common. Yet, this is the one who Vayne shared jests with as they stood and talked in the hall.
The rest of the Dangard men were older, nobles of lesser birth. They were along for the trip, no doubt, to add a little worth to the entourage, and for a lack of anything else to do, having sons now taking care of their lands and responsibilities.
As the hour grew late, those in attendance grew tired and were soon filing out. When Nikolis went to leave the room, Lewin stopped him again and suggested he check on the Lady Karlene. “All hours,” Darus reminded him. Though he did suggest Nikolis be careful not to disturb the lady. When Nikolis questioned how to go about checking on her without disturbing her, Lewin only patted him on the arm and sent him on his way.
Without too much trouble he found her quarters, located one level down from the king’s own, not too far from where he knew Price Erad slept. One could tell when they were in the royal apartments, for the entry doors were spaced father apart, each individual’s quarters comprising many rooms. No one disturbed him here either; a few weeks ago, he would not have made it anywhere near the place without someone questioning his presence, and most likely a sharp implement thrust his way.
After a few moments he came to the door he was sure belonged to the lady. It was wide and thick and banded in iron. There was a single candle in an iron sconce on the wall outside the chamber, and it cast orange light and harsh shadows about the corridor. He went up to the door and raised his hand to knock. Before his knuckles met wood, however, he decided against it and went back to pacing before the door. Again, he welled up his courage, and went over to the door and raised his hand, and again he stopped. How am I to do this without disturbing her? One more time he went up to the door, and just as he was about to knock, it swung open.
A large, heavy woman stuck her head out into the corridor. “What do you want?” she said, as loudly as a whisper would allow.
“I…I, ah, I am here to check on the Lady Karlene,” he stammered.
“At this hour?”
“Yes. Yes, I just wanted to ensure she was well.”
“Well she is,” the woman huffed, “and fast asleep. Now get gone and stop skulking about the halls.”
“Y-Yes, ma’am.” Nikolis turned and started to leave. If the woman was impressed by his clothing, she did a good job of hiding it.
“Young men skulking about halls at this hour of the night,” the woman said, as he started to walk away. The door slammed shut, and a bolt could be heard sliding into place.
&nbs
p; As he made his way down the hall, he thought he heard something. As he turned, he realized it was the sound of soft footsteps. When he tried to look to see what it was, a white form suddenly appeared, taking him about the arm and pulling him along down the hallway. It took him a few moments to realize it was Karlene who had him, a smile on her face. Only then did his heart stop thumping as if it would burst out of his chest.
“You scared me,” he stammered.
“Sorry,” she said with a grin, but kept up her pace. “Where’s your chamber?”
“What?” His heart began thumping anew.
“We need somewhere to go.” She smiled at him again. “To talk. Show me your room. If we stay out here, we’ll get into trouble for sure.”
Nikolis started to see some of that old, adventurous, girl he had known as a child. She seemed to be enjoying this all too much, while all he could think about was what would happen if they were caught together. It seemed as if she would not be deterred, though, so with no better option he led her down, and around to his chamber. They narrowly avoided several guards and servants, but Nikolis’ old skills at such things aided them in the effort.
“Here it is,” he said, when they arrived at the door.
“Come on then. Show me.”
“Well it’s not much,” he said. “I just moved in. I used to live in the Master of Arms’ tower.”
“Just show me.”
“Alright.” He opened the door and led her into his chamber, striking flint and steel to ignite a lantern. It cast a dim glow throughout the room, not that there was much worth seeing. The open window let in a cool draft and Nikolis watched Karlene wrap her arms about herself. He looked at her, really studied her, for the first time.
The lady was wearing a light, white, sleeping gown tied above bare shoulders with blue ribbon. Her position before the lantern made the outline of her slender body quite visible through the thin material, and so with reluctance, he looked away.
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