“And, so can my squire,” The Ranger snapped, swinging down in a quick movement. “All of the squires can, in fact. Will, help the others out with making sure things are put away right and meet us back here.”
After the Ranger spoke, none of the stable hands approached the group again, instead muttering and throwing them suspicious looks. Will felt uneasy as he took the mare and Visra toward Colin, Rowan, Novin, and Haru. He shot his two friends a raised eyebrow look, hoping they would understand that something was amiss. Colin nodded and Rowan looked between them, clearly confused.
“Lead the way then, Will,” Colin said, gesturing toward the lines of open-sided temporary stalls that had been erected at the side of the courtyard.
Will could feel eyes on him as he started between two rows of stalls, eyes on the banners that stretched above each grouping of horses, with the names of the castles that each belonged to. They passed a group of smaller, stoutly built horses, under the Bronswick red banner with its yellow tower. The next group of horses looked expensive and well-fed, standing beneath a dark grey banner. On the banner, a golden falcon dove downwards, wings extended, in the center of a ring of golden twisted thorn-covered vines. The delegation of Thornten representatives had arrived before them. Something about the banner seemed familiar and he shivered. It had to be the stories he’d heard, all the talk of Thornten, that made him this uncomfortable. One of the horses, a large black horse with heavy feathered feet and a long forelock, wore a deep green blanket and flicked its ears back as they passed.
“Alright, Will, what’s with the Ranger having us do this instead of the stable hands?” Colin asked in a low voice, as they stopped under the deep blue and silver Alamore banner.
Haru, Novin, and Rowan turned to Will, expectantly.
“He doesn’t want our gear locked with anyone else’s, he wants to know where it is and have the ability to get it quickly. So, he wants it in his mare’s stall, at least mine and his,” Will looked at the group of horses. The eleven warhorses were shifting uneasily, trying to see their surroundings. “We can’t put all of this in just that stall. The horses who won’t eat tack need to have saddles stored with them.”
“Right,” Haru said, nodding curtly. “The King’s horse and mine are well behaved. Rowan, not your horse. It cribs at the barn. Colin’s horse and Novin’s. that gives us five, so that should be good,” He opened the nearest stall, urging his own horse through the gate. “I’m not going to lie; I prefer us keep our tack where we can get to it. The King was uncomfortable with this situation and I don’t much care for us having to spend time in close proximity to King Tollien.”
“Tollien?” Will asked as the others nodded solemnly. He looked between the squires, who stared back at him.
“Alamore, Will. I forget that you’re from town sometimes,” Novin said, shaking his head. “King Tollien is the King of Thornten,” He pointed to the large black horse behind them. “Our dear sweet nemesis to the east.”
Will felt his face redden. “Right…”
“Never mind that, we have to get these horses taken care of. Store your gear against the gate wall, so it’s not in sight if someone just glances in,” Haru ordered, already working on his horse’s saddle. “We need to move quickly.”
They did so, Will helping Colin with Sir Miller’s horse after they had taken care of their own charges. Once they had stored the last saddle, they broke into a jog to reach the courtyard.
Sir Miller stood waiting, his eyes darting around, taking in their surroundings. “The others have already gone in on the request of Prince Kolt, so let’s just get inside,” he said, his voice tense.
The tension worsened as they were led through a large grand entryway, where a guard confiscated their weapons, locking them in a side chamber. Even though all he had was his dagger, Will felt naked without the small blade. He wasn’t sure if it was the Ranger’s words or instinct, but he was on edge. His heart felt as though it was ready to bruise the inside of his ribcage.
The entry hall was well lit, torches and fireplaces blazing and the dark stone covered with tapestries depicting war and hunts. Sir Miller and Haru took the lead and all of them remained silent while they entered through the open doors at the end of the hall.
The room was massive, with all walls curved to the shape of the tower with the exception of the one that held the door they entered through. Tables, each bannered like the horse stalls had been, lined the walls with the same arc, while men sat in silence behind them. At the far end of the room, the tables stopped with enough room for a dais. Elevated above the rest of the room, three thrones stood, but the thrones were empty.
A man stood beside the largest throne, one hand on the arm of the ornately carved seat. He was bearded, broad-shouldered and tall, with his shoulder-length brown hair tied back in a gold cord that matched his gold chainmail. Small pale eyes darted around the room, finally locking on the group that was entering.
“I take it,” he barked, turning to the King of Alamore, “that this is the rest of your own group.”
The King stood, nodded. “Yes, Prince Kolt.”
The man’s eyes flashed with fury and Will lowered himself into his chair, shivering. Nothing seemed right with the matter. Kolt’s lips turned upwards in a cold smile. “That title, I’m afraid to say, is already outdated.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“What the…” Rowan whispered, turning to Will. “He isn’t crowned yet, is he?”
Will shook his head, eyes still on Kolt. “We weren’t late,” he whispered back.
The King’s face showed surprise for only a moment before he smiled politely. “Well, King Kolt, I am sorry we missed the celebration. We were informed that this honor would take place tomorrow.”
King Kolt laughed and lowered himself into the large throne, waving his hand to the guards at the doors. The guards moved forward, shutting all of them into the large tower. “That was the agenda. But, after having a chance for all of us to gather,” Kolt gestured to the others gathered in the room. “We decided I needed to be crowned sooner so we could form alliances and begin to take actions. Now that you have arrived, I must inform you that this is more of a reconciling of old treaties than a crowning of a new King.”
“Bastard,” Will heard Sir Ross mutter a few seats away.
The King, however, didn’t seem to react to the words. “And what treaties are those?”
“The tunnels,” Will turned his eyes from Kolt to the man who spoke across the hall from them, seated in the center of the group from Thornten. The man had dark, almost black, eyes and black hair. His handsome high cheek boned features were accentuated by a sense of power. “That is what we have decided on as a start.”
Will felt every muscle on edge. To his left, Rowan’s leg was shaking slightly while, to his right, he could feel Colin slowly pushing his chair away from the table. Will was sure that this was King Tollien of Thornten.
“The tunnels are not a concern to anyone but Alamore,” The King said, his voice still calm but edged with force.
“At one time,” Tollien said as if he hadn’t heard the Kind of Alamore, “those tunnels were meant to extend between Alamore and Thornten.”
“Yes, as they were built by traitors to the crown of Alamore,” Sir Ross snarled, standing. “Those are not any property of Thornten’s.”
“The tunnels might not be, but those inside the tunnels, have since sworn fealty to Thornten,” Tollien was not managing to keep the fury out of his voice. “We have discussed the tunnels here over the past few days, while you have been delayed in arriving. Those tunnels were not meant to even just be in Alamore and Thornten, but to eventually connect Bronswick and Phersal. They were meant as an escape route for the royal, a pathway for treaties to be made and–”
“A convenient way for you to double-cross and take Alamore,” Ross said, barking out a mirthless laugh. “The tunnel people were traitors to Alamore who built that network underground for years as an elaborate way to weaken the ca
stle’s defenses.”
“Ross,” the King said warningly. “Sit down.”
Ross sank into his seat once more, his eyes blazing.
The King turned to Kolt. “What Ross has said is true. These Tunnels weaken Alamore, we can’t agree to anything that would make us so vulnerable.”
King Kolt nodded. “I did not imagine you would. Bronswick, Thornten, Maridia, and Phersal, however, have all agreed that the tunnels are not Alamore’s sole right. They were across the Thornten border at one point, until your own men collapsed that wing. It wasn’t your right to make that decision.”
The King slammed a fist down on the table. “It is my right to protect my kingdom and my people, as you’ll learn yourself as you gain experience, Kolt,” His voice had risen and Will watched the knights of Alamore stand before scrambling to his own feet. “I will not agree to any such treaty. You talk of using this tunnel as a strategic and peaceful way to reach each castle, but what of the tunnel people? They have made it clear that they do not have any peaceful intentions for Alamore.”
“If you provide enough of a trade for them, they will. We four,” Kolt gestured to the other Kings, “have made a truce with them. They want their say in Alamore and, for the majority, there is a gain if you give them that ability.”
The King turned to Ross, lowering his voice to a hiss. “Get the squires out of here.”
Ross snorted. “Afraid that’s a little late.”
“I can’t have you destroying our own plans for our countries successes,” King Kolt snarled. His face was contorted with anger as he stood. “I give you one more opportunity to ally with us, to let the tunnel people have their demands, and open the tunnels. Otherwise, I can promise that you will watch each of the men and squires you’ve brought die tomorrow before we execute you.”
The King glanced at his party, his eyes meeting Will’s for a fleeting moment. Fear coursed through Will as the King looked away once more and back at King Kolt. “Very well.”
Everyone in the room seemed to turn to the King, no one daring to breathe. Will saw Rockwood’s look of confusion, Ross’s fury, the way that the Ranger’s knuckles turned white as he balled his hands into fists. The King inhaled deeply, breaking the still. “At least we will have left Alamore with knights I feel confident can still hold it strong until the heir is old enough to rule.”
Kolt let out a roar of fury and waved his arm at the guards. “Take them to the dungeons, now! I want them locked away and, tomorrow, I want them pleading for their lives.”
The guards started toward them and Ross and Miller grabbed the edge of the table, heaving it forward, into the stomachs of three men that collapsed, gasping.
“Come on!” Rowan shouted as all pandemonium broke loose in the hall. More guards had opened the door and were rushing in, Sir Ross and Sir Rockwood were both fighting multiple armed men with nothing but bare hands. Miller and Haru had gone back to back, both with the legs of chairs in each hand.
Will and Colin followed Rowan over the abandoned chairs between them and where King Revlan, Novin, and the Ranger stood. Will felt someone grab his shoulder and he spun, kicking the guard that held him in the knee. The man howled in surprise and pain and struck out, his fist colliding with Will’s jaw. Instinct took hold and Will found himself punching, biting, kicking and writhing as sheer numbers began to overwhelm their small group. Have to defend the King, we have to defend the King. The words repeated, over and over, in his head until something struck him hard enough to make him stagger, his head spinning. A second strike and he fell, the world falling into blackness around him.
***
Cold stone pressed against Will’s back as he struggled to open his heavy eyes. Everything seemed hazy as if the dark chamber was filled with fog. He closed his eyes once more, his stomach churning, and tried to stop his head spinning. He would not get sick; he could not get sick. He had to remember what was happening and how he had gotten here.
“You’re probably beginning to regret becoming a squire right about now,” a voice said, chuckling quietly, to his side.
Will pulled himself into the dark room once more and turned his throbbing head. The King of Alamore looked down on him and smiled grimly. “Welcome back to the world of the living, William.”
Will tried to sit up and the ground seemed to spin. “W-what’s happened?”
“Lie back down a moment longer. You took a nasty hit to the head,” said the King as he groaned, sitting back against the wall of the room.
Will obeyed, staring into the darkness above him as his mind began to make sense of his surroundings. They were attacked. They had been told to ally with the Tunnel People or they would be arrested and executed, and they had been attacked. Will sat up again, suddenly. “Where are the others?” his stomach turned and he barely managed to look away from the King before bringing up the breakfast he had forced down that morning at the tavern.
“For the sake of Alamore,” the King sighed. “I said lie down. They’re all down here as well.”
Will wiped his mouth on the hem of his damp cloak and tried to focus on his surroundings. They were, indeed, in a dungeon. The wall where the King sat was dark stone, like the rest of the tower, but the other three were metal bars. Across a dimly lit hallway, more metal bars separated them and another cell where Will could see Sir Ross and Sir Don standing, silently, while dark forms lay behind them.
“Are they…” Will started and his stomach churned again, thinking of Novin, Miller, Rowan, Colin…
“They’re fine,” Ross reassured him. “But they listened when we recommended they lay back longer. You’re the last to wake up.”
One of the forms on the ground raised a hand and waved. “Hi, Will.”
“Rowan, keep your voice down,” Ross snapped, glowering down at the form before turning back to the King and Will.
“Yes, you would have done best to listen to that advice and stay down, with the blow you took to the head.”
Will jumped, startled, and turned his head. He hadn’t noticed the Ranger against the black stone, next to the King. He still wore his dark cloak and hood, making him nearly invisible in the dim light. “What’s going on? How long have I been out?” Will asked, tentatively touching the side of his head where he could feel the throbbing the worst. He winced as pain flared and brought his fingers away, dark with blood.
“About an hour, so it could have been worse. You took a gauntleted fist to the head,” the Ranger said, beginning to pace.
“And I am sure that the guard regrets it,” Ross growled, ominously. “I ensured he received much worse.”
“Which only adds fuel to the fire for your execution,” Rockwood grumbled from the ground behind him.
Ross shrugged, a humorless smile exposing his teeth. “If I’m going to die, I might as well die first and take as many guards with me as possible.”
“We’re not dying in some traitor’s execution,” the Ranger hissed, striding to the bars that separated them from the hallway. “We are getting back to Alamore. Will,” the Ranger glanced back at him. “Where is our gear?”
“Our stalls,” Will replied. “But I don’t even know where the stalls are from here.”
“I didn’t ask you that part. I was asking where our gear is. See if you can get steady on your feet, same with your lot over there, Ross,” The Ranger ordered. “The guards went back to the top of the stairs. With dungeons designed as these ones, having guards down here is pretty useless. The stairs are the only way out and, with the heat system, a bit more comfortable for them to stay in.”
“I’m a little less concerned with the guards, Ranger, than I am with the fact we have solid steel keeping us inside,” Sir Miller said, voicing Will’s own silent thoughts.
The Ranger laughed softly. “You focus on getting the squires ready to move. Will, I need you to try.”
Will began to nod then thought better of it. He could feel blood still drying along the side of his face as he struggled to his hands and knees. The
world was tipping again, it seemed, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He had to stand, he had to be ready.
“I’ve got you, William,” The King’s voice was soft and he felt a hand grip his shoulder, solid but gentle. “I won’t let you fall.”
Will forced himself to his feet and staggered, opening his eyes. The edges of his vision darkened for a moment and he felt the King’s hand tighten before the darkness cleared and he let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Sir.”
“King will do. I’m not one for titles and groveling, it wastes time,” The King replied, releasing him. “Ranger, what’s the plan?”
“One moment,” Will could see the Ranger struggling with something in his hands. The faint sound of metal on stone sound broke the still and the Ranger laughed. “Got it,” he held up something small and thin and Will realized, after a moment, it was the clasp of the buckle that held the Ranger’s empty dagger sheath to his side.
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 15