Читать книгу Aelethia's Hope - Leandra Martin - Страница 3

A black leather clad figure galloped hard down the main road into Kingswell, taking the cobbled street up to the castle. When the guards on the parapet walls saw him, they raised the portcullis for him to enter. His horse was heaving and foam gathered at the sides of his mouth. He had ridden non-stop for weeks, stopping only to water his horse and stretch his aching limbs. He felt guilty about riding his horse practically to death, but his mission was clear. Get to His Grace in a timely manner to relay the news he had obtained. He rode as if his life depended on it, and it probably did. Fallon had not been happy with the news that had reached him as of late, and he decisively took it out on the messengers. If their news was not what he wanted to hear, it was their last dispatch. The man swallowed. He knew he had news that His Grace would be pleased about, but feared for his life all the same. Fallon was short tempered and hard hearted, and he generally took out his anger an anyone near, no matter who it was. He had gone through five retainers in the last few months, and it was common knowledge that he didn’t care how many he killed. Ever since he had taken over Lachlan Castle and proclaimed himself king of Aaralyn, he had been even harder to deal with, his arrogance and power hungry soul even harder to appease. He knew he had information valuable to the despot, but he certainly didn’t want to die because Fallon felt his return was too slow.

He raced up the road and through the gate just as the portcullis was being raised. He dismounted in mid-trot and threw the reins down, not waiting for a boy to exit the stables and take them. He took the stairs two at a time and walked quickly down the hallway.

The halls were dark and dingy now, the thick stone permeated with something black, the sinister lighting creating eerie shadows as he passed by the torches.

The castle was once a vibrant place, light and festive and filled with conversing nobles. Now it was quiet, and there was no longer vibrancy. Since killing off Randor and taking his throne while Prince Kevaan was away, Fallon was taking to his new seat with indifference. He didn’t perform any of the kingly duties that were required. He would never take to ruling the country until he had his queen beside him. The information the retainer carried with him today would start that campaign soon enough.

He entered the hall and approached the throne with cautious steps. When he was close enough to the dais and Fallon could see him, he prostrated himself on one knee, placing his riding helmet under his arm in respect. The hard cold floor dug into his knee, but he waited silent and still for Fallon to give him leave to stand again. The moments seemed to drag, and the messenger suspected it was for dramatic effect and ridiculous pleasure, nothing more. When Fallon gave his permission, the messenger stood and bowed quickly to his liege.

“What news do you bring to me, Gartlan, and it better be good. You’re late, and I’m in a foul mood. No one else has brought me anything of use, and I grow tired of being in the dark about what the southern king is up to.”

“I do have important news, Your Grace. News that will please you.”

“Do not assume what will please me and what will not! I haven’t been impressed with any of the messages brought to me in the last couple of months. I grow tired of being surrounded by fools.”

“Yes, My Lord. I have information that I think you will find important. King Dainard is rallying his army and has all of the cities across the border secure. I heard that a runner got through to Pembroke, and the General is pulling his garrison in from the port and distributing them into Boones Ferry to await your army from the sea. Kevaan did reach Charbonneau safely and is getting his troops together as well. They plan on standing against you.”

“I already know that, you simpleton. I have given them time to do this. I don’t want to go into battle with armies that are too easily defeated. There is no honor in that, or pleasure for me. I want information that I don’t have or news that has evaded my mind-sight spells.

“I know where the princess has been hiding.”

At that, Fallon snapped his head up and stared at the messenger. “You had better not be misinformed, sir, or it will be the last words you utter.”

“No, My Lord, my information is accurate. The princess has been shielded from you because she is no longer at Drydon Keep. She has been with the elves in Vallis.”

Fallon’s face changed to one of annoyance and then to anger. The messenger was unsure if the news he brought was worth the trouble he had gone through to obtain it. He was afraid Fallon was going to kill him.

Fallon looked down on him and sneered. “So, the elves and the king think they can keep her from me. Well I will take her no matter where she hides. The sacred walls of the ancient city will not hold me back forever. I have become powerful enough to break through.”

“You may not have to, My Lord. She has completed her purpose to be there and is on her way back to Drydon Keep.”

Fallon stared at the messenger and his eyes turned darker. “She is out in the open now?”

“Yes, My Lord. She was seen riding through Mercer not a week ago. She should be at the Keep in a few days.”

Fallon’s sneer turned into a smile, but he gazed off into the nothingness, as if he were seeing something Gartlan could not. “This is good news, Gartlan. Better than I could have hoped for.”

“There is more, Your Grace.” Fallon focused once again on his now favorite spy. “The elves and the dwarves have agreed to an alliance with King Kevaan and King Dainard. They are preparing for war.”

“What about the Chancellor and the Isamarians?”

“No word about their stance yet, Your Grace, but rumor has it that the Bounty Hunter is on his way with an entourage from Vallis into the Free Cities to speak with the Chancellor and his council. They are going to try and get an alliance from them as well.”

Fallon rubbed a gloved hand across his bearded chin. “The Chancellor will not easily join. He is stubborn and doesn’t want to get involved with things that don’t concern him. King Dainard has a silver tongue and is good at persuasion, but I think even he’ll be hard pressed to convince them. We still have some time then?”

“Yes, Your Grace. The group didn’t leave Vallis that long ago. It will take them awhile to get into the city.”

Fallon stared at his messenger now. “You have done well, Gartlan. You get to keep your head where it is. For now. Go clean up, eat, and rest. I may have another assignment for you and, I want you well fed and rested before I send you out again.”

“Thank you, My Lord. You are most gracious.” Gartlan bowed deep to his master and backed out of the room slowly.

As soon as he was out of vision range of Fallon, he hurried down the hall to his room, heart pounding hard in his chest.

***

Ruan de Gracy entered the great hall and shook out his damp hair and cloak, spattering the floor with droplets of icy water. He stomped his feet to get the feeling back and unclasped his cloak from the throat, tossing it over his shoulder. A page appeared in the chilly hall and bowed to him. “Lord Ruan, the king awaits your presence in his study.”

“I hope it’s warmer in there than in here. Christ, does he not believe in using the fireplace. It’s like a bloody crypt in here.”

“You will find the study warmer, My Lord.”

“Lead on then. I shan’t keep my king waiting.”

The page led the dripping Ruan down a side corridor and down the hall to the double doors that opened into Dain’s study. He noticed immediately the difference in temperature, a fire blazing in the large hearth, and planned to move closer to the heat as soon as the niceties were done.

Dain turned toward the entrance when he heard footsteps and smiled when he saw the drenched earl dripping in the doorway. Ruan’s dark black hair was plastered to his head, the longish sides dripping droplets of water down his temple into the neck of his doublet. His grey eyes gleamed in the wan firelight, and the mischievous smile he always had showed off straight white teeth. Ruan was only a year younger than Dain, but the king noticed how the years had not yet caught up to the tall lanky lord. It had been years since their last visit, and, although now adults, Dain made note that his more playful boyhood companion hadn’t changed a wink. He put down his parchment and approached his cousin, grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed.

“Ruan Hilyard de Gracy, it’s damn good to see you!”

He threw his arms around him, and the two embraced enthusiastically. When they parted, Ruan looked closely at his cousin and liege. “Good to see you as well, Sire.”

“Since when do we use our proper titles when in company with each other?”

“Since we are no longer fourteen and trying to woo the ladies with our charms. Things have changed, Dain. You are king.”

“Things have not changed between us, Ruan. We are family first, compatriots second. Now come in here and sit by the fire before you freeze to death.”

Ruan moved to the chairs by the hearth, but instead of sitting, stood with his backside to the flames.

“When I heard about Danyl I feared the worst,” Dain said, distractedly fiddling with the ties on his doublet. His voice was slightly shaky, but his tone conveyed relief. Ruan was touched at his cousin’s genuine concern after all this time. He was happy that the fondness they once shared for each other as boys had not waned over the years.

Ruan placed a hand on Dain’s shoulder in understanding and gratitude. So as not to become too sappy, he smiled at his cousin instead. “I know, Dain. But as you can see, I’m fine. In a few minutes I may be warmed up a bit as well.”

Dain appreciated the change of tone. “Well, only you would travel without the proper clothes. It’s no wonder you didn’t freeze to death out there with those unseasonal leggings and cloak. One would think a lord would have been taught better,” he joked, standing against the fireplace mantel now, arms over his chest.

“If you must know, cousin, I left in a bit of a hurry, in the dead of night so that I could ride in secret. If anyone found out I was coming to you, I may never have made it. Getting to and from Drydon Keep seems to be a bit dangerous, and being a messenger nowadays is a short lived occupation.”

Dain was not amused by this jest. “I didn’t know you were coming, nor did I call for you. Risking your life to get here was your responsibility, not mine. I’m not unaware of the dangers of being loyal to the crown are these days, Ruan. I’m responsible for everyone that I rely on, and I feel irresponsible when someone dies in my employ. I should have sent him with armed escort, but I thought being alone would attract less attention. I was mistaken, and it cost a good man his life.”

Ruan suddenly felt ill mannered and boorish. He didn’t mean to insult. He knew the responsibilities the king had and the burdens that responsibility held.

“Forgive me, Sire. I was out of place and meant no disrespect. My joking went too far. I understand the burdens that have befallen you. I’m sorry for my lack of tact.”

Dain pursed his lips and blew out a breath. “It’s alright. I’m weary, that’s all. I know you. I know you meant nothing. I’m being overly sensitive. Get warm, and let’s talk of old memories for awhile instead of issues of state.”

Ruan knew Dain’s anger had passed and felt safe joking again, but only to lighten his cousin’s bleak mood.

“I thought I would freeze in the great hall waiting for an escort. Hearths work much better when lit, you know,” he complained flippantly.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve used that hall. Wasting a good fire seems pointless when no one is occupying the room.”

“You’re not getting cheap on me now are you, cousin?”

Dain laughed despite himself, the tension from before all but gone. “No, just more frugal.” When Ruan sighed, Dain asked, “Better?”

“A bit. I’d be even more so if you’d be so inclined to find me a dram of something sweet and vein warming.”

Dain laughed and called for a servant. “Bring my guest some ale and something to nibble on. I’m sure he’s hungry after his ride.”

Ruan nodded. “Aye.” The servant left and Dain stood staring at his cousin, arms crossed over his chest. “What?” Ruan asked.

“Why did you not stay in Danyl and give aid to Ulric? He needs you more than I.”

“Let’s see, how did that dispatch go? Ah, yes, natural leadership and head for strategy. Isn’t that the way you put it?”

“Quoting my own words are we?” He smiled. “I didn’t expect you to come. Your arrival is a surprise.”

“I know. Tis’ not an unpleasant one I hope.”

“Not at all. I’m just wondering why.”

“I felt you needed me more than Danyl does.”

“How so?”

“Your deployment of troops into Danyl is sufficient. If Ulric cannot keep his garrison fortified now, there would no use for me anyway. I’m at your disposal, cousin, just accept it and put me where you must.”

Dain smiled again and sat in one of the chairs, tossing his feet up on a hassock. After Ruan’s back was sufficiently warmed, he sat down in the chair beside his king and sighed heavily again.

“It’s truly good to see you, Ruan,” Dain said. “How long has it been?”

“Eleven years next spring. Your coronation.”

“That long? It seems like only yesterday we were causing trouble in the town square.”

“Time does fly. I’m sorry I’ve not been here.”

“You’re an earl now and a knight. That’s a huge responsibility, and I know how much time it takes. I don’t find fault in your absence. You’re here now.”

“You look different to me, cousin. What’s changed?”

“I’m a grown man now.”

“That’s not what I meant. There’s something in your eyes that tells me something in your life has changed.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The door opened and Emerick walked in carrying a tray of glasses, a decanter of wine and a plate of cheese and bread. He set them on the table sitting between them and smiled at Ruan.

“Emerick, you old goat. How in the hell are you?” Ruan jumped up and embraced Emerick with as much vivacity as he had when he was a boy.

When they parted, Emerick held Ruan at arms length to get a better look at him. “For a man with multiple responsibilities, you don’t look a bit older than you did when I saw you last.”

“Aging isn’t something I want to do at all, but if I must, gracefully is the better option. The ladies don’t seem to complain about it.”

“I would think not. Is there a certain one?”

“One? Emerick now you jest.”

“You’ve not settled down yet, Ruan?”

“Don’t even say things like that, Emerick. I just got a chill, and it isn’t from the damp leggings I’m still wearing either. Besides, I don’t know of any woman that has captured and ensnared the untamable Dainard Llewelyn either.” Emerick tossed Dain a look which he thought would be unnoticeable, but Ruan caught the exchange just the same. “What secrets do you hide from your cousin, Dain?” He shot him a look, then Emerick again, trying to get one of them to answer.

Emerick answered, “I will let you two alone. I’m sure there are lots of things you need to catch up on.” He took the tray, which he had brought the food and drink in on, and placed it under his arm. He shot Dain another look, and left the room, closing the doors behind him.

Ruan sat back down next to Dain in front of the fire. Dain poured a drink and handed it to his cousin, then took one for himself. He stared into the flames and was quiet. Ruan took a couple of sips of his wine, grabbed a hunk of bread and cheese and started to nibble. He waited, giving his king an opportunity to tell him what he wanted to know, then gave up. “Who is she, Dain?”

“Who?”

“The woman who obviously has you wrapped around her finger.”

Dain looked at his cousin smiling. “I’m not wrapped around her finger. If anything, she’s wrapped around my heart.”

“I knew it. You do look different, and now I know the reason. You’ve fallen in love.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I never thought you’d cave, cousin.”

“I didn’t cave, Ruan. I just grew up.”

They were silent again for a few more minutes, drinking their ale and warming themselves, but Ruan couldn’t stand it.

“She must be extraordinary to have ensnared you. Who is she? Some nobleman’s daughter? A countess? Who? I will not let you evade my questions. I’ll torment you until you spill. You know that I will.”

Dain smiled. “Alright, cousin. But it’s a long story.”

“I, for one, have nothing better to do for awhile. How about you?”

Dain proceeded to tell Ruan about everything that had happened in the year that had passed. Ruan didn’t speak, only drank his fill of ale and ate his fill of food, listening with rapt attention to every detail Dain spoke about. They talked well into the night, and Dain and Ruan caught up on the last eleven years they had missed in each other’s lives. Despite what Ruan said, Dain could tell that he was jealous of his happiness. He, too, wanted to find the right woman; he just didn’t have anyone close enough to get him to see the mistakes that were preventing him from doing so. Someone like Alek. Ruan was a well-respected knight in the duke’s army and an earl, with a large household which he handled with fairness and equality. Dain was proud of all that his cousin had accomplished and didn’t really fault him for not finding a lady to settle down with. Having that many responsibilities didn’t give him a whole lot of time to find someone, or enough time to give them the attention they would undoubtedly deserve. Dain felt bad for Ruan. His cousin was a fine upstanding man; he had a tremendous amount of great qualities, not to mention his strikingly good looks. Dain had always thought Ruan had the better physical attributes, but Dain had just been better with his tongue. He could woo a maiden into doing anything, and in that respect, Ruan was more a winning guy, Dain a scoundrel.

“Wow. I guess I have missed a lot since I’ve been away. I meant what I said earlier; you do look different. You look happy. When do I get to meet her?”

“Soon I hope. I hope she’ll be back soon. I miss her.”

“You sure know how to pick them.”

Dain shrugged, blushing slightly. “Well I didn’t really know who she was until after I fell in love with her. There were rumors, but…” He shrugged again, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

“I only heard the rumors a couple of months ago. Danyl is a bit far and secluded to be readily able to keep apprised of the latest goings-on. I never would have guessed that you and she would find each other. What are the odds?”

“Small, but obviously not too small. I, for one, am extremely happy things happened the way they did, but sad that I can’t predict what the outcome will be.”

“No one can predict that, but I’d like to think we will endure.”

“You were always the optimist.”

“You were too. You’ve just had a lot of responsibility set on your shoulders, and that can make optimism more difficult to maintain. Being king of an entire province can surely weigh you down. I think with her by your side, the burden will become easier in time.”

Dain smiled at his cousin. “You’ve become a philosopher in your adulthood, Ruan.”

“Nah.” He shrugged. “Just a bit wiser. Come on, cousin. I think it’s time we hit the hay. You have a lot to update me on tomorrow, and I have a lot to help you plan.”

Dain reached over and touched Ruan on the shoulder, squeezing it. “I’m glad you’re here, Ruan. I can’t think of anyone else I’d like at my side when we go to war.”

“I’ve always had your back, cousin. I don’t intend to stop now, Sire.”

They finished off their drinks and went to their respective rooms to sleep off the drink of their catching up. Tomorrow they would begin their campaign.