“Colin,” said Colin.
An expression of recognition crossed his face. “You’re Carnel’s cousin, aren’t you?”
Colin’s face flushed with pleasure. “Yes! He’s caretaker of Lonnac.”
“Until you come of age,” Frell finished, beaming. “So, you’re a Greyhead! You look a lot like your cousin. He came down, not long ago, to get a horse here. Fabulous grullo colt.”
Will glanced at Rowan. He had no idea what a grullo was and, judging by the bewilderment on Rowan’s face, he wasn’t alone. “Right,” Frell said, reaching up to clip one half of a cross tie to his horse, “I will get the medical kit for that grey horse there and we can get started.”
To Will’s relief, Rowan plunged his arms into the basin with a cloth and started working on the white horse with him immediately. Blood had dried over the horse’s face, clotted in its mane, and run down its legs. The horse looked wide-eyed and the smell of the blood thawing under the warm water made Will’s stomach churn dangerously. Rowan, grimacing, stepped outside after a few minutes and came back, pale and shaking.
“How can it smell this bad?” he asked Will in a low whisper.
“It’s blood,” Robin said, stepping into the stall to grab a damp cloth. “Death was never meant to smell amazing,” he grinned at them and started to step away.
“Hey, Robin,” Rowan called, making the older squire stop, still ducked under the cross tie. Will could see the defensive look cross Robin’s face as he waited for Rowan to continue.
“Yes, Rowan?” he asked in a measured voice.
“You know, you’re not as awful as I thought this morning,” Rowan admitted grumpily.
Robin’s grin returned. “Hard to be that awful.”
“Thank you,” Will blurted, the words falling out of his mouth without his control. For a moment he thought someone else had spoken them.
Robin didn’t say anything, only inclined his head to Will and left.
“He saved my neck,” Will muttered, dunking his rag back into the bucket he held.
Rowan grimaced. “I saw. Colin and I were trying to get there but we couldn’t,” his hand stopped running along the white horse’s mane and he gave Will a critical stare. “What happened out there? You froze up.”
Will’s face grew hot and he knew he was turning red. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it. He wasn’t even sure what he should begin to say. How did you explain that it was harder than it should have been to turn on a father, even one who wanted you dead? “I don’t know,” he crouched down to rub the horse’s legs, “Just froze, like you said.”
Rowan said nothing and they lapsed into silence. Once blood free, they blanketed the white horse and moved it to an open stall, where Frell had already shaken out fresh wood shavings and a pile of hay.
Once all the horses were groomed and put away and Haru had convinced Robin to leave the grey in his stall to rest, they followed Frell along the side of the castle, through a narrow doorway. “This way,” he commented, as he pushed his shoulder against the door, “is where we come when we need to get dry clothing. Right now, Rowan looks like he bathed himself and you all have enough blood on your clothing that it could cause a scare among those in the castle. Kenta very much believes in keeping the castle calm,” the door opened and a warm cloud of steam washed over all of them. Will couldn’t help but sigh, the hot air feeling amazing against his freezing skin.
They shuffled through the narrow door into a wide room, where women were moving around them in grey aprons, washing, folding, and stacking generic green tunics that matched the standard’s colors. The walls were lined with shelves, more iron bellied stoves in the center of the room were surrounded with clothing lines, and tables held heaps of clothing to be washed as well as to be folded.
One of the women noticed them and waved them over, stepping in front of her table. “Master Frell, what exactly have you done to yourself?” she demanded sternly. Her hawk-like eyes narrowed as she appraised each squire in turn. “I swear, if it were not for blood and mud, squires would waste away and die.”
“The hunting party found a Thornten ambush,” Frell explained, clearly used to the woman’s scorn. “These are squires from Alamore,” he waved toward the group. Will saw Robin shifted uncomfortably, as though still unused to the title.
The woman nodded curtly. “From the high castle, then. Very well, go to the wash-rooms. I don’t want you near clean clothing looking like a massacre victim,” she turned to the room, squinting through the steam. Will could feel sweat starting to trickle down his neck. With the door closed, the room was stifling. How could they stand it? “Amerila, Merdane,” two younger women left their tables and hurried over. “Size these brutes and get them out of here,” she waved her hand and walked back behind her table. “Now, please.”
Amerila, who had jet black hair, a narrow face, and looked to be in her mid-twenties, led Rowan, Will, Colin, and Treck toward a door off the side of the room. “You are all ‘bout the same size,” she surveyed them again, her hand resting on the door handle. “Yes…you,” she pointed at Treck, “you’ll be a size larger but we have something. Leave your dirty clothing in the baskets in the washroom and your boots by the door so I can find you something that’ll fit your feet.”
Rowan elbowed Will and nodded his head toward the other group of squires, struggling to stifle his laughter. Haru was talking to Amerila, his eyes wide and face red, clearly enamored by the slight girl, who was throwing her brown curls over her shoulder. Will bit his lip to keep for laughing himself as Haru tripped over his own foot in his eagerness to follow her orders as she pointed them inside a second washroom. Robin, behind Haru, didn’t manage to hide his laughter and had tears of mirth running down his cheeks.
“He’ll have a hard time getting her attention,” Merdane said, following their gaze and smirking, “she’s engaged and I’ve never seen any two people so crazy for one another. Her fiancé is a knight here.”
“With the moves Haru is showing, she could be more impressed with a rock,” Rowan said, giggling.
“Just you wait,” Merdane gave them a knowing look, “that’ll be you one day.”
“I hope not,” Colin said, pulling on his shirt collar.
Rowan snorted. “I’ve had to hang around girls most my life. My sister always insisted that she and her friends would play with us when I was little,” he waved a hand through the air.
Merdane shrugged, pushing open the door and waving them through. “Just go get cleaned up. Be sure to give the redhead grief later and tell him women are more impressed when a man keeps his composure ‘round us.”
***
The squires met in a hallway outside of the washrooms thirty minutes later; cleanly dressed, their hair damp, and Haru’s face a dark red that clashed terribly with his hair as Rowan blew him a kiss. “Go away,” Haru said bluntly.
Frell looked over the group. “If that’s all of us, we can go into the grand hall then. I imagine that your knights are already waiting there, and Kings and Earl,” he turned, leading them up a narrow flight of stairs, through a door, and into a large open room. In the center of the room, a circular fireplace was blazing and, at the end of the hall sat the Alamore delegation at a table, across from Earl Kenta and his contingent of knights.
The Earl saw them enter and raised his hand in acknowledgement. “Come along,” he smiled and Will noticed how the gesture seemed not to reach the man’s sad eyes. “They have just brought out our lunch, and I dare say you are all probably hungry after this morning.”
“Simply starving,” Rowan whispered.
Colin, on Will’s other side, hissed; “No surprises there,” and Will had to duck as Rowan tried to cuff Colin in the back of the head.
“Rowan, some tact, if you will,” Ross barked and Will heard Rowan mutter a few choice words under his breath.
Will sank into the seat between Haru and Rowan, near the end of the table, not wanting to have to be the barrier between Colin and Rowan if
they began trying to fight again. The Finnwick knights watched them all with curious looks, one of them staring especially hard at Robin.
The knight, bald and broad-shouldered, ran his hand over his short white beard. “I know you. You came here not long ago to help pick up the horses for King Tollien’s brother, as a gift,” he narrowed his dark eyes. “Changing sides young, I see.”
Robin met the man’s gaze with a defiant stare. “Better to make my wrongs right young than live in regret, Sir,” he said politely.
The man let out a bark of laughter. “I like that one, Kenta. He already has life’s answers.”
“Didn’t we all at that age?” Rockwood asked, grinning.
A few more of the knights broke into laughter. Kenta nodded; his expression unreadable. “What made you decide you would regret not changing sides?” he asked Robin.
Robin’s brow furrowed and when he answered, he spoke slowly, seeming to weigh each word. “I understand that I will question the judgment of others, that is to be expected. I knew I would not always agree with Tollien…but never did I imagine that I could not trust who he was,” his expression cleared and his jaw visibly tightened. “The man that Tollien has been changing into is not the type of man that I would ever wish to be, therefore I wouldn’t wish to follow him.”
Kenta nodded again. “You’ve clearly had time to think on that.”
“With all due respect, Sir, I would not risk throwing my life away without taking the time to put my thoughts in order. Decisions made by emotion are not always right ones.”
No one spoke for a moment. Tension had gone through the group like a cold wind. Will felt his hair stand on end. He could see Ross’s eyes, dark, Richard’s hands balling into fists on the table, and Rockwood’s leg bouncing as if already anticipating his next move.
“I’ve noticed these things in Tollien,” Kenta said, sighing, and the tension broke. He gave the two Kings a steely look. “I am true to Alamore. I have known that our stance could not remain forever, though my father would have believed that it could. There are no good men without enemies,” he stood, the King and Sir Ross standing as well. “I lead my men, though. We fight with you, King, but we don’t fight for you.”
Giltor sprang to his feet, hands slamming down on the table. “He is your King! You will do as-”
“That is enough,” King Revlan barked, eyes flashing. Giltor, livid, looked between Kenta and the King before sinking into his seat once again, an expression of disgust on his face. “I would be honored for you and your men to fight with us. We will put up as many as you as you decide in Alamore.”
Kenta placed a hand on the shoulder of the bald knight beside him. “Sir Jarvin, it looks like you get to practice manning the castle. I will lead our men to Alamore and in the defense of the castle,” his eyes fixed on the King again and some of the icy steel melted away. “We will ride out in three days, enough time to get our men in order and the castle prepared in the event of an attack on us. I understand you will need to return to Alamore, today if at all possible. That said, we will send ten riders with you, in case Marl’s patrol decides to cross the border again.”
“Thank you, Kenta,” said the King.
Kenta motioned to the table. “Well, you all should start to eat. I have a few men I have to prepare to go to Alamore.”
“I’ll assist you, Sir,” Ross said.
Kenta lowered his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Ross.”
The two stepped away from the table, Kenta leading Ross through the opposite doorway and out of sight. Will and Rowan exchanged nervous glances. “You heard the Earl,” Jarvin broke the silence with a toothy smile, “eat!”
***
The squires had to saddle quickly after they ate, the sun starting to slip down the western sky. Kenta’s head stableman had brought a deep red chestnut out of their barn for Robin to use, refusing to allow them to move the grey.
They had nearly finished slipping bridles onto horses when a shout went up from the wall. Will could see a soldier looking over, yelling at someone on the other side. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sir Richard, beside the King and Earl, grip his sword hilt.
“There’s a man here claiming to be part of the Alamore delegation,” the soldier called down to the courtyard. “But he’s not giving a name, just says he’s here to guard the King.”
The King sighed, stepping forward. “Let him in.”
The soldier shrugged before gesturing to the gatehouse. The doors opened and the gate lifted to reveal the lone shape of the Ranger astride his black horse. “You tend to find chaos wherever you ride of late, King,” the Ranger said, coolly, loosening his reins to allow the black mare to enter.
The King snorted derisively. “Now that is irony, Ranger.”
The Ranger bowed his head respectfully toward King Giltor, who’s jaw tightened, and then reined his horse to a halt before the Earl. “Thank you,” he said, his quiet voice carrying. “We truly owe you and your men a great deal.”
The Earl shook his head. “Finnwick may not choose sides in times of peace, Ranger, but when it comes down to blood, we are loyal to Alamore.”
The Ranger nodded. “Indeed. From what I’ve seen and heard today, your side is set in stone. Marl was in that raiding party?”
“Yes,” Kenta said. He patted the black mare. “Have you come all the way from Alamore on this horse then?”
“Not exactly Alamore, no,” he and the King exchanged a look. “But,” the Ranger lifted up on his reins, backing the mare from the Kings and Earl. “I think we best get ready to ride if we are going to make this trip with any daylight at all,” he turned to the squires, his eyes resting on Will for a moment longer than the others. “Let’s get the horses ready, boys.”
“Says the man doing nothing right now,” Rowan grumbled.
“Says the squire who’s just eavesdropping,” Haru whispered back, stifling his laugh.
“Don’t you have a wedding to plan with that girl back there?” Rowan demanded, waving his hand toward the castle. Will laughed and had to quickly cover his mouth to avoid drawing the attention of the Finnwick riders, leading their horses past them, out of the barn.
Haru, face bright red, cuffed Rowan in the back of the head. “If you didn’t have a knight already, I would take you on as a squire just to make your life miserable.”
“I already do that,” Rockwood said, stepping forward to take the reins of his sorrel from Rowan. “Haru, someone could fry an egg on your face.”
Colin, Will, and Treck were the last to mount up. They held their horses steady until Ross, the King and King Giltor had said their goodbyes to the Earl and lifted themselves into the saddle. Will had to move slowly and was relieved that Visra didn’t move. His sides were tender from the long day. “I guess you didn’t get to start with an easy day after all,” Colin commented, his face concerned.
Will shrugged, straightening in the saddle. “It’s fine.”
Colin lifted himself onto Strider’s saddle and grinned. “Why am I not surprised that’s your answer?”
“Squires, less talking more riding,” Ross barked over his shoulder, pushing his paint horse into a trot.
Colin rolled his eyes and Will raised his eyebrows. “Starting to act like Rowan,” he said, urging Visra into a walk.
“It’s a dangerous side effect of hanging out with him. Contagious sarcasm,” said Colin darkly. Then he cantered past Will, to Ross’s side and out of the walls of Finnwick.
Will gritted his teeth and leaned forward. Visra didn’t hesitate, his muscles coiling and releasing, springing them out of the courtyard and back onto the path for Alamore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“The tunnels have been really quiet of late, and I, for one, don’t like it.”
“Speak for yourself, Rowan. I don’t mind not getting murdered when I come out to work Strider,” Colin replied.
Late afternoon sunlight was reflecting on the dust floating lazily in the barn. Will, sitting on Vi
sra as the large horse ate his grain, glanced in the direction of the tunnel entrance. Two men stood on guard, neither familiar to him, but stony-faced and silent. Every day, it seemed as though the faces in the castle became less known. Between the Shadow Dale men and the riders that had arrived from Finnwick, the castle was feeling less like Will’s home and more like a tavern for passing soldiers.
Rowan, seated on an overturned bucket in the corner of Visra’s stall, began tossing pieces of hay at Colin, who had sat, cross-legged, on the straw. “Would you quit that, Rowan? Seriously,” he shook his head, trying to shake the hay loose from his hair.
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 27