“What happened to his wife?” Colin asked.
“None of your damn business, that’s what. And don’t bring up a man’s dead wife, he doesn’t care for it oftentimes,” Laster snapped. “Now, get inside, all of you.”
They did so. The hearth had already been lit, the warm glow of the fireplace in the center of the room sending strange shadows over the walls.
The room was tidy, neat, almost too much so. There was no sense that the room was someone’s home, no personal effects on the desk, dresser, or mantel. A large bed was against the same straight wall that held the doorway, cots pulled out in front of it, nearer to the fire. A window, the black shutters pulled tight, and two black doors set into the wall were the only thing that broke the grey stone walls with any color.
“Don’t be nosey, literally no one likes a nosey guest,” Laster advised, stepping back out of the doorway. “And get some sleep because I have a feeling we will be woken up in about four hours when the Kings and the Earl are done with their meeting,” he glanced around at each of them. “Don’t leave the chamber. The washroom for this room is through that door,” he pointed to one of the doors.
“What’s through the other?” Rowan asked.
“What about being nosey didn’t you understand?” Laster snapped. “It’s a closet, for Alamore’s sake. Just go to sleep,” he shut the door. They could hear his muffled growled complaint, then the sound of him retreating down the stairwell.
“He’s probably right; we won’t get much sleep. Must be about two in the morning,” Colin rubbed his eyes. “I’ll take this cot,” he gestured to one nearest the door. “Treck, take the bed. I have a feeling you’ll be the first one up.”
Treck threw them all a distrusting look then nodded, sitting on the bed and pulling off his boots. “Rowan, which cot?” asked Will, gesturing to the two left.
“I don’t rightly care as long as I can sleep and stay almost warm,” Rowan admitted. He stepped over Colin’s cot, sinking onto the next one with crossed legs. Will nodded, moving to the last cot.
***
He was right. Sir Dannix’s marred and disfigured face kept swimming in front of him each time he tried to close his burning, exhausted eyes. Twice, Will woke with a start, only to find that he had barely been asleep a few minutes and that Colin and Rowan both had eyes reflecting the fire in their own cots. How did knights fall asleep after seeing such things? He tried over and over again; sometimes sleeping long enough that the corpse in front of him would stand, trying to smile with a broken jaw, moving in a stagger that was somewhere between a stumbling fall and a dance step. He knew it had to be worse for Treck. When he woke some hours later, he could hear the low whimpers of pain coming from the bed behind him. Somehow the cries of the squire were worse than the dancing dead man waiting in his nightmares.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Sir Laster proved to be right. The sun wasn’t up over the winter scenery, the warm fire had only just started to die down. It felt as if Will had only closed his eyes when someone was gently shaking his shoulder. He started awake, more images of Sir Dannix flooding through his mind.
“Easy, boy,” Sir Ross’s familiar growling voice. “Nightmares are bound to happen after last night. I need you all to wake up.”
Will sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Rowan, hair a mess, looked as bad as Will felt. His eyes were shadowed, his skin pale in comparison.
“Are we riding out, then?” Treck asked, sliding out of the bed and grabbing for his boots.
Sir Ross hesitated, looking between the three squires on the floor and Treck. “You are,” he finally answered. “You’ll be riding out with your King in a few hours. He wants you to saddle your horse and his, you’ll serve as his squire now,” a low sigh escaped the knight’s lips. “Will, Rowan, Colin, you three will be training with Rockwood and Laster this morning. I need sleep,” no one moved, the news settling on each one of them in turn. “That means hurry up because I’d like my room back,” the knight said, raising his eyebrows.
They pulled on their boots and belts in silence. Treck refused to meet any of their eyes and was out the door before Rowan had even finished pulling on his boots. “He’s going to blame us for not riding with them,” Will said matter-of-factly as they stepped onto the landing and Sir Ross closed the door behind them.
Rowan snorted. “We’ll let him. I’d rather be blamed for being alive than die avenging one freaking knight we barely knew.”
“It’s not going to be easy for Treck, and King Giltor isn’t helping,” Colin said. He started down the stairwell, the two others following. “It’s not easy, you know, losing people…but Giltor is stirring everything that Treck is already feeling and now it’s just an emotional raid on a well-defended, well-armed, castle.”
“Do you think that they stand a chance?” Will asked. He ran a hand over his face, trying to force himself more awake.
“No,” Rowan and Colin confirmed Will’s feeling in unison.
“Tollien has Phersal and Bronswick. He is stirring things just to get this rise out of Giltor,” said Colin.
“Yeah, well Giltor seems pretty damn predictable,” Rowan grumbled. “Like I love our King, and he truly does like his knights and soldiers, but I don’t think he would do something this emotionally-based even if it had been Sir Ross or the Ranger,” Will and Colin nodded in somber agreement.
***
The air in the entire castle crackled with unease. Men from Shadow Dale and Finnwick made a point of never standing near one another in the hallways or courtyard. Alamore soldiers and knights moved in silence through their own duties. Will, Colin, and Rowan joined the rest of the Alamore squires in the dining hall, where Haru’s face was flushed with anger and Robin sat between him and Novin, his head cupped in his hands.
“What’s going on?” Will asked, sinking into the seat across from Haru.
“I will be glad when we are shut of the last of these Shadow Dale men,” Haru snarled, glowering at a passing group of squires from the other castle. They returned his dirty look, carrying their plates to a further table.
“What happened?” Rowan repeated Will’s question.
“It’s just not a great time to be associated in any way with Thornten,” Robin said, smiling sadly.
Will felt a pang in his chest, thinking of his short-lived hatred for Robin, before the journey to Finnwick. “Ignorance breeds contempt,” Colin said sagely.
“Seriously, sometimes I’m not sure if your twelve or twelve thousand,” Rowan said, stabbing a potato on his plate with too much force, sending it flying off of his plate and falling to the floor. “Dammit.”
“Rockwood is going to catch you swearing one of these days and I feel like he’s going to have some fitting punishment for that lack of manners,” Leaf said, grinning and sinking into the chair beside Rowan.
“Oh, shove off, Leaf,” Rowan complained.
Leaf grinned wickedly.
“When do they all ride off then?” Will asked, nodding toward the Shadow Dale squires. He could see Treck in their midst, very pointedly not looking in their direction.
“Not soon enough,” Haru pushed his plate away, running a hand through his red hair. It fell, again, over his forehead. “But supposed to be in the next two hours. A lot of their horses are saddled, knights are just getting ready to mount up so it’s squires time to eat and get armed. The morons; they are literally taking anyone of any age that will go. Sir Richard already had to have a yelling match this morning with one of their knights who was trying to pressure that page, Mark, to join them,” he rolled his eyes, disgusted. “Mark is like nine years old, what is he going to do? Cut the knees out of the enemy? Makes a lot of bloody sense.”
“They aren’t trying to recruit me, crazily enough,” Robin said, grinning with slightly more humor.
Haru snorted. “Two of the squires tried to jump Robin this morning as soon as Sir Richard woke us up. They’re lucky that right after I caught up with Robin, Sir Laster showed up
and told them off. But now they get to go into battle with some black eyes and a busted lip,” he glowered darkly at the plate he’d pushed away.
“I’m sorry, Robin,” said Will.
Robin shrugged. “Hey, King Revlan isn’t demanding my head on a stake so I don’t rightly care what any of them say. They aren’t my people.”
“Good attitude to have,” Sir Rockwood sat down next to Robin, clapping him on the back. “Atta lad!” he grinned at the group but Will couldn’t help noticing the strain in his smile and the dark shadows under his eyes.
Sir Laster took the seat on Rockwood’s other side laughing coldly. “Good attitude providing you’re watching your back. I don’t trust any of these…people,” he spat the word with disgust.
Rockwood raised his eyebrows. “I always hoped this day would never come, Laster, but I agree. It tells you that these are indeed bad times.”
Laster growled in response.
“We are training with you two, then?” Will asked.
“Yes, the whole lot of you are. For understandable enough reasons, we are not starting anything until the Shadow Dale and Finnwick delegations have left. We are also going to wait until Sir Henry and Sir Bane have gone.”
“Where are they going?” Saget demanded.
“Kelkor. We still need people to ally with us and, seeing as we can’t count on Shadow Dale entirely.”
“And Finnwick is off the table so long as Shadow Dale is on it,” Laster added in a snarl, viciously stabbing an egg yolk.
“Very much so,” Rockwood agreed. “We need more help. Kelkor isn’t ideally situated to be of assistance; they are on the coast and pretty far west and south, but we have a strong allegiance with them due to blood.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s related?” asked Rowan. “Because Sir Richard is related to Kenta and that doesn’t seem to be doing us any good.”
“Watch it,” Haru growled dangerously while Sir Laster had to turn his head to hide his sneer.
“Rowan, it seems the rumors are true; you are getting somewhat mouthy,” Rockwood said, grinning. “No, we have a strong blood-tie to the King. His only sibling, his younger brother, married the only daughter of their past King. Which means he’s the King there. He doesn’t do anything without Paranella’s say, so it’s her that will truly need convincing. But she and Sir Bane are good at bickering, so they’ll negotiate something, I have no doubt.”
“Kelkor,” Robin said, brow furrowed. “The women there learn to fight pretty often, right?”
“They let men and women become knights, yes,” said Rockwood, slicing the piece of ham on his plate into smaller pieces.
“And they’re disconcertingly good at fighting,” Laster added. “Don’t ever cross a Kelkor knight, especially the ladies.”
“Why don’t we have any?” Rowan demanded, looking around the hall.
“Because it wasn’t until Revlan took the throne that we allowed them,” Rockwood answered. “And no one has wanted to send their daughters here. We tried to get your father to send your sister.”
“That would have been a nightmare,” Rowan grumbled.
“Enough of the history lesson,” Laster growled. “Robin, stay close to either Rockwood or myself today. Actually, Will, you may need to as well. With Marl being so close to the throne,” Laster hesitated and Will’s heart froze. He still hadn’t told most of the squires how Marl was related to Tollien. “He may have earned you a few enemies from Shadow Dale.”
“If we are still in an alliance with Shadow Dale, why can’t we trust them?” Colin asked. “Aren’t they breaking it?”
“A King isn’t accountable for the actions of a few of his less honorable knights,” Laster scowled at the group of squires at the other table. Will saw Treck’s face redden and duck down. “Nor the squires. I don’t trust any of them until they are gone. Will, Rowan, Colin, you heard their twisted sense of revenge and honor last night first hand.”
The three nodded. Haru leaned forward to better address Sir Laster. “So, what was the Ranger referring to last night? He seemed to expect something like this to happen.”
Laster rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “When you are a knight which, terribly enough can’t be far off, you can be nosey and know what happens in council meetings. Until then, shut up and keep to yourself. It does us all a favor,” Haru’s face darkened and he sat back, arms crossed.
“I can’t expect it will be that much longer before the King does knight you,” Rockwood said, spreading his egg yolks across a piece of bread. “Or, that’s the impression I got the last time we had a chance to discuss something other than Giltor in a council.”
“Really?” Haru sat up straighter, his eyes glittering in excitement.
“I mean, rumor has it that you and Robin both are-”
“Rockwood, that’s enough,” Laster warned. “What happens in council isn’t for the squires, or they would be invited to it.”
Rockwood apologized but, as Laster looked away to suspiciously observe the Shadow Dale squires again, he winked in a conspiratorial manner.
A Shadow Dale knight entered the dining hall, his eyes flitting over the groups until he saw their squires. He waved a commanding hand and they stood, starting for the door. “I guess it’s time,” Robin commented, wiping his face on a napkin before letting it fall over his plate. Will looked down at his only half-eaten breakfast before pushing it aside as well. His stomach was still unsettled.
After they ate and were joined by the rest of the Alamore squires, they all stood, following Laster and Rockwood out into the early grey light of the courtyard. Riders were already starting to leave over the bridge; the silver mountain on its black pennant flapping over King Giltor’s men while the gold horse on the green backdrop fluttered over the smaller delegation of Kenta’s men at arms. King Giltor sat astride his white horse, face hard, watching his riders pass, weapons at the ready, and pass over the bridge. Treck sat beside him on his flea-bitten grey, the small animal shifting in place, gnawing on the shank of his bit.
“Remind you of anything, Rockwood?” Laster asked, his face twisted in disgust.
Rockwood nodded, stony-faced. “At least it’s not raining for them,” he glanced at the squires gathered around him. “We rode out to Bronswick at the end of the summer; we lost good men there but had the advantage of having Bronswick on our side then. Shadow Dale, however…” his voice drifted to silence as Giltor turned his horse in a tight circle, riding toward where the King stood beside the hitching rails, the Ranger at his side.
“Perhaps you will change your mind in time to bask in some of our glory on the field.” Giltor taunted.
The King bowed his head in acknowledgement. “I hope I regret not riding with you for that very reason, Giltor.”
King Giltor nodded briskly, scowling towards Earl Kenta on his large bay horse, mounted in front of his men. “Earl.”
“Your Highness,” the Earl said, his deep voice icy.
Giltor snorted in disgust and pulled the reins, spinning his white stallion round. “Treck, ride!” he barked. The two galloped across the bridge behind the last of their riders. Without them, the castle suddenly felt too large, too empty.
“I guess that means it’s our time to ride,” Earl Kenta said, riding his horse at a slow pace toward the King. “I can only thank you for your hospitality. We are ever loyal, but I cannot risk my men being caught in the battles of Shadow Dale’s ignorance. We are too small a castle to take foolish risks.”
“I understand, Kenta,” the King patted the broad neck of Kenta’s horse. The animal lowered his head, breathing out a cloud of steam as it sighed.
The Earl grimaced, watching the retreating backs of Shadow Dale’s riders through the open gates. “I fear you will have to shelter survivors if they are that lucky.”
“I doubt they will be,” the Ranger said, coldly.
The Earl’s eyes shifted to the hooded man. “I fear the same. Unfortunately, neither Tollien nor Kolt became Kings due to cowardly acti
ons or foolish behaviors. They are too clever for this to be unexpected and I feel that you are right in your estimation of what they are planning,” the bay shifted, as Kenta straightened. “However, that is neither here nor there. Should you ever need a fine horse in Alamore,” he turned the bay and grinned, looking over his shoulder at the King. “I have a few young ones that I think might impress you out of the saddle of that blue brute you ride now.”
The King laughed. “I would have to be dead to be pulled from Talloe.”
The Earl laughed and loosened his reins slightly, the bay bounding forward into a canter. He circled the courtyard once, his men moving to follow before green and gold riders were passing. Will saw Frell push his chestnut to Kenta’s side at the lead, never looking behind him.
Ranger of Kings (William of Alamore Series Book 1) Page 31