by Katie Roman
“Well then,” he said, “why should that change the tournament this year? Newly knighted men compete every year, and it is never of any interest. Don’t you remember our first year? Beaten in our first rounds of the joust.”
“This knight is said to be of – shall we say – a higher quality than others. Rumors have been buzzing about for days that his father is one of the finest swordsmen in Cesernan, as well as a fine weapons trainer. Certainly that sort of gift passes from father to son.”
“Perhaps it was worth coming out to the tournament this year. We shall have to see if this Arganis knight can live up to the rumors that surround him.” If nothing else, this new knight would provide some new blood to the tournament.
~*~*~
Grace Hilren had only been to Ursana once in her life, at the age of seven; her father’s last tournament. That was nearly ten years ago, but things were much as she remembered. She even suspected she was in the same room as before. There were two beds in the room: one great, queen-sized one and a small cot pushed into the corner. As a child, she shared the room with Cassandra. Now at seventeen, she still shared the room with her loyal handmaiden.
The young woman opened the shutters to let the room air out a bit. It was warmer in Ursana, where the king kept his palace, than it was in Arganis. Grace was unused to such sweltering heat this early in spring. At her home it was probably a calm, windy day, perfect for walking about the grounds of Arganis castle.
Arganis was not as rich as some of the other provinces, but it was the most beautiful. Its vast forests and large pine trees were renowned as the best for ship building. Then there was the snow. Snow rarely fell more than to provide a soft blanket on the ground. But when snow did cover the land, the pine trees were at their most beautiful. No other area in Cesernan could boast such beauty.
Right now in her home, the weather was pleasant; certainly not too cold and far from hot. Ursana was different. Spring had only just begun, and Grace already felt as though the blistering heat of summer hit her. This place was loud and too much of a change from the peaceful forests of Arganis.
“A change will do you good,” Uncle Leon said. He always insisted he knew what would do her good without asking her first. “You’ll see the palace again, and you may be able to take a few days and venture into Glenbard. A young girl like you should be looking to buy pretty dresses, not hiding yourself in the forests.”
She sighed. It had been so long since she was away from home. The last time she really ventured anywhere was just before her father’s death. Her father had been a lord and a well-respected knight in the halls of King Frederick. Some years past, her father died after being thrown from his horse. His neck was broken from the fall and he died instantly.
As a woman, her mother was deemed unfit to take control of Arganis by Cesernan law, and therefore married her husband’s brother and allowed him to govern. Her mother became like a ghost. She barely left her room. She just sat there and lamented for her dear, dead husband.
After her father’s death, Grace felt as though her life was a dream. Each day she wandered aimlessly around the castle in Arganis, not speaking or interacting with anyone. Her childhood friends and servants, Cassandra and Donald, were her touch with reality. They feared greatly that she was becoming a ghost like her mother.
It wasn’t until Grace turned ten that she awoke from her dream, during a ride through the woods with Donald. He often took Grace out for long rides to see to it that she didn’t rot away in the castle amongst the memories of her father. On this particular ride, they came upon a young girl being bullied by some men. Donald scared them off, but Grace sat there, unable to do anything. She hadn’t so much as called for help. She realized then that her grief for her father had lasted too long, and she needed to help others whose grief was still near. Grace decided to be selfish no more.
“I shall take up the banner of our guardsmen,” she boasted proudly. She strutted about the castle with a wooden sword. “And I’ll drive the bandits off.”
“Our little Grace is quite a feisty one,” servants and guards said. They patted her on the head and sent her to play elsewhere.
Her uncle Leon, the master at arms in Arganis, worked with Grace the same way he worked with the village boys. Leon believed the women of Arganis needed to defend themselves, so he trained some of the village girls as well. While most of the girls were just interested in learning the basics of defending themselves, Grace was interested in weaponry. When all the other girls left, she stayed behind with the village boys to learn sword techniques.
Grace continued by herself to learn the finer techniques with a sword. When she felt she was finally ready, Cassandra helped sew an executioner’s hood for her and Grace had a leather jerkin made to fit her small form. It was barely a year ago when she first became what people these days were calling The Death Dealer. She was not fond of the name, but there was little she could do to change that.
She adopted a completely different persona as The Death Dealer. The Death Dealer didn’t care for names like Grace Hilren did. Rather, The Death Dealer had one goal: to see to the rescue of those who needed it. Life was different under the hood.
~*~*~
Grace looked out onto the rolling hills of Ursana. She looked past the king’s grounds and the town beyond toward the hills. They were a comfort in the hectic world of the court. The chief palace of King Frederick was larger than all of the grounds for the Arganis castle, as well as the town that was placed there. The town that surrounded the palace was a bustling place, even more so with the tournament beginning. The whole experience was overwhelming for Grace. Calvin had insisted that she come with him to the king’s tournament. He felt it would do her some good to get away from her mother and mingle outside her usual circle. Grace disagreed. There was little the nobles could offer her. She sighed and looked away from the window. The room was empty, leaving Grace with an uncomfortable feeling. For a palace housing so many noble houses, everything was far too quiet. She should be able to hear others milling about outside her room.
She crossed the room and unlocked one of her trunks. The black jerkin and hood looked back at her. She pulled out the hood and put it over her left hand, her sword hand. “You have already become a legend,” she whispered to the hood. The empty eye holes stared back at her. “How does that make you feel?”
A loud rap at the door caused Grace to jump. Footsteps she hadn’t even heard approached her quarters. She quickly stashed the hood back into her trunk and slammed the lid shut. “Come in,” she called to the knocker.
The plump frame of Cassandra opened the door, much to Grace’s relief. Her maid was a young woman of nineteen, with a noticeable fondness for sweets. Still, Cassandra had a soft face with a perfect nose and stunning hazel eyes. Her auburn locks were pulled into a tasteful and practical bun. “Milady, they are calling for everyone to come down to the feast. The King had it specially prepared for the knights on the eve of the tournament. Calvin sent me to find you and yet here you are, unready to go. You’re going to be late.”
Grace let out a groan she tried hard to suppress. Cassandra looked at her lady and shook her head. She knew Grace Hilren better than anyone, which meant she knew what Grace wanted to do rather than feast at the King’s table.
Cassandra softly closed the chamber door and moved closer so Grace would hear her whisper. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now you are expected at the feast, and there is no time to change into proper dinner attire. You will just have to go as you are.”
Cassandra gave Grace a once-over. The girl had not even bothered to put her hair up. Her dark blonde locks fell past her shoulders, and it looked as though Grace hadn’t even taken the time to brush them out since waking up. Her simple dress was forest green with a faded gold trim. The other women of the court would look at young Grace as though she were little more than a servant, but there was no time to change her look. Cassandra blamed herself. If she hadn’t been taking in the castle, she
would have seen to it that Grace was getting ready for the feast.
“Brush your hair, at least.”
Grace scoffed and grabbed her brush off the dresser. A few brush strokes made a world of difference. She looked less like a vagabond now. Cassandra took out a sash made to match Grace’s dress. “Put your arms up.” Cassandra tied the sash around her lady’s waist and arranged it as best she could. “Say it’s all the fashion in Arganis. Hurry up – your cousin is waiting for you so he may escort you to dinner.”
~*~*~
Calvin looked as though he belonged among the court nobles. His light brown hair was cut short and combed neatly, mirroring the style of most of the other young men at court. He was full of pride for his role as knight and he moved about with ease; making small talk where it was needed. His tunic was a rich blue color, and he displayed the silver hawk of Arganis proudly on his chest as he greeted the other nobles. Grace clung to his arm and allowed him to lead her to dinner. She never thought her cousin was one for such social gatherings, but it appeared now that perhaps he did belong here. On the other hand, she looked nothing like the other ladies. Calvin may have the ability to blend in, but she lacked such a talent. Grace wasn’t interested in any of this anyway. She hoped Calvin would allow her to leave as soon as the feast was over.
“Young Calvin of Arganis?” An older woman snaked through the crowd and stopped before Grace and Calvin. Grace immediately disliked her. Her eyes were condescending as she looked at Grace. Her smile was fake and her tone of voice made Grace think one word: patronizing. The servants back home, as well as her Uncle Leon, warned Grace that ladies from high noble houses were different from the country ladies in Arganis. She understood those words a little better after one glance at the woman before her. Her graying brown hair was covered by a sheer white veil. The stunning red gown she wore had an elaborate silver trim that flourished on her dress’s skirt; making beautiful, intricate knots. She wore fine silver jewelry and ruby earrings. Grace was duly impressed by the woman’s attire, but she quickly gathered that was the most interesting thing the woman had to offer the room.
“Oh, Calvin! It has been some months since you were here last. I believe six months have passed since I was blessed with your presence, yes? When you earned your shield, isn’t that correct?” Calvin nodded politely. He had been knighted there in the court of Ursana. Had it really been that long ago? “And I hear you are competing this year. How exciting!” She clapped her hands and politely giggled. Grace forced out a smile when the woman looked at her. She was obviously expecting some sort of response.
“And who is this lovely lady?”
“Duchess Katherine of Actis, may I introduce my cousin, the daughter of Lord Daniel of Arganis, Grace Hilren.”
Something flashed in Katherine’s eyes as she looked upon Grace again. “Daniel’s only child? I am surprised. I thought you would look more like your mother, dear. Lady Dedre was one of the most beautiful women in Cesernan. Yet you are so plain; with your father’s eyes, far too wide for a woman, and his small ears. I suppose the small ears become you, though they did no justice to your father’s face. And that dress! That hardly indicates you are Dedre’s daughter.” Katherine smiled again. “At least you inherited your mother’s nose; petite and ever so upturned. Perfect. Now, I do hope you will sit near us at the feast, Calvin. I made a special request and would be terribly offended if you took up a seat with the other knights. I must be off now.” Grace noted how the invitation was only extended to Calvin.
Grace watched her rush over to a group of other women, ranging in age from girls nearer to her own age of seventeen, to old grandmothers. She hardly believed someone could so casually insult her and then act as though nothing happened. Katherine spoke to the other women and they looked toward her. The younger girls, some already married and pregnant, were giggling, though some tried to hide it, and the grandmothers subtly shook their heads. Dedre’s only child had not made the impression the famed beauty would have wanted.
“Do not mind the gossip. The women will accept you soon enough.”
Grace looked over at the gaggle of women Katherine was with. The giggles and head shakes continued. The common thought would be that Grace was too rustic, as well as a disappointment and failure in court life. The young woman locked eyes with Katherine and narrowed them ever so slightly. The duchess turned away.
“Somehow, I highly doubt that.”
~*~*~
Grace found herself sandwiched between Calvin and the extremely fat Lord of Egona during the feast. Katherine was seated across from her and kept sending disapproving stares her way. The old woman was not impressed with the unsavory look Grace had given her before. It made Grace so nervous and angry, she just picked at her food.
“No wonder you are so skinny,” Henry of Egona said; brandishing a chicken leg at Grace the same way someone else might shake a finger. “You are missing out on a fantastic feast. King Frederick really went to great lengths this year. I say that every year, of course.” He laughed and patted his belly. “Maybe my tastes are just becoming more and more refined and it becomes possible for me to take note of every spice put into my food. So eat up, girl!”
“I am afraid the atmosphere in this room has caused me to lose my appetite, sir,” she said quietly; flashing her eyes quickly in Katherine’s direction. The duchess’s attention was engaged elsewhere at the moment.
Henry seemed to understand and nodded. “Do not mind Duchess Katherine. She is a hound and you are simply a fresh piece of meat. She will talk about you, and there is little that can change it. All the court women are like that. Even our fair Queen Bethany takes part in the gossiping around here. But you…hopefully you will be different,” Henry said; helping himself to Grace’s roll. “Most ladies let it go and soon join Katherine’s assemblage after taking her verbal abuse in silence. But you are outwardly disapproving, and I do hope you stay that way. It would be nice to have a conversation with a female and not have to worry that what is said will be repeated in some knitting circle.”
“So you wish to see me socially ostracized? Disapproving as I may be to gossip circles, I do not wish to spend my adult life on the fringes, always being talked about like a fallen woman.” That much was truth. There was simply no mistaking it. Grace had a duty to marry and bear children. From childhood, she always knew that was what was expected of her whether she wanted that life or not. Being a social pariah would not help her achieve her family’s goals. She was surprised Henry was so open with her about what he thought of the women and how he hoped Grace would turn out.
“Kamaria, bless you, child!” Grace found it strange Henry called on the moon goddess. Most men invoked Ciro, the sun god, for blessings. “I meant no such thing. I just wish to see one woman who does not repeat everything in that damned circle. Many of the women who veer away from Katherine do not stay long at court. I think the duchess likes to drive them away. For a while Lady Myra,” he gestured to a pregnant woman who could be no older than nineteen, “was a pupil of mine. At her father’s request, I was to teach her mathematics, geography and history. She, too, was disapproving of the gossip geese, but once she married she apparently forgot. She told me at our last lesson – this being after she announced she was with child – that it would be beneficial to her child to make friends with Katherine. I spoke some words about Katherine, thinking young Myra would never repeat them. Four months ago Katherine was gentle toward me, but now she is ice.”
“So I am already socially rejected because I have spoken this long with you?” Confused as she was by his motives, Grace liked this man’s honesty and now she only teased him.
Catching on to her game, the older man smiled. “You can never help who you are seated beside. But please try to keep my name out of that circle when Katherine eventually accepts you. And don’t look at me with those eyes that say ‘she will never have me.’ You are Lady Dedre’s child, and Katherine was always second to Dedre. She’s likely to want to turn you from your mother
just out of spite.”
“Then Katherine must think all women are as fickle as she. I will keep all you have said in mind, though I think you have little to fear. You are awfully open about your thoughts and feelings of these women. You had no way of knowing my true alliance when I sat down. Perhaps I secretly longed to be in that circle. But sir, you have nothing to worry about, as I said. I plan on returning to Arganis as soon as the tournament has ended.”
“I am an old, fat knight who enjoys food over women. I had nothing to lose should you have looked on Katherine as an angel of social integrity,” Henry said quietly, and put down his fork for the first time. “The ladies hate me already; a newcomer like you could not have damaged my reputation any more. And on another note, I think you should try to stay a bit longer. The tournament is such a small part of what happens here during the spring and summer months. And if rumors be true, you have not been outside your home since Daniel died. Think about staying for a while. These tournaments are not what they used to be, and new blood is always needed.” Grace nodded and Henry smiled. “Every year the same people come out, and it seems so long since fresh faces were seen here. Besides, you bring new conversation and new stories. Calvin has lived in Ursana for so long trying to win his shield that he has no new stories for us.”
“What about you, Grace?” Grace looked up and found a good number of people were staring at her, expecting some sort of answer. In her conversation with Henry, she missed the larger conversation going on around them. Katherine knew this and a spiteful light danced in her eyes.
“Pardon me?” Grace said. “I did not hear the question.”
“We were discussing the vigilante in the north. The one who sees to it that any miscreants traveling his roads find the justice the hooded man thinks they deserve. Our group is split as to his usefulness. After all, his brand of justice conflicts with King Frederick’s law and undermines our gracious king’s authority. His mere presence suggests he does not believe our king is doing a good enough job protecting his subjects. You are from Arganis; what do you think of this Death Dealer who rides around the north and deals with those robbers and such?” Katherine asked. Grace knew she was waiting for her to stumble over her response; to say something unacceptable. And she made her opinion known. Katherine was obviously against the Death Dealer, and she wanted to find another reason to hate Grace.