In Service Of The King (Book 2) (11 page)

“In order to be accepted into their set, I must find out information on the Lord of the Stone Mountain!” she stated, the last vestige of her smile dwindling away. “These women are well-connected, Octavian... they have impressed upon me that if I can find out anything, being on his land as we are, we are back on the road into high society! Think about it, parties and balls and dinners again…” Her aging face took on a dreamy expression. “This lord, that you think so highly of, is a great mystery. No one has seen the man, nor heard much of him since he purchased the estate. The ladies are wild to know any little thing about him. Why else would I stoop to conversing with our former servant, of all things.” She bristled at thought.

The General rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and continued reading his report, ignoring her. Mrs. Hays walked in an agitated circle, seeing he was going to be of no help. She could see Harold knew more than he was telling, but the man clammed up and left as soon as he could. Suddenly, she stopped pacing.

“I am going into town,” she announced. “Allow me the carriage.” Her husband waved her away, as if saying ‘go do what you will.’ Mrs. Hays called to her maid, hurrying to her bedroom.

“Send the man servant to the castle,” she instructed the girl. “Tell him to ask the steward to send us a guard to accompany us into town. There have been reports of thieves along the road and I don’t want to be robbed.” The girl curtsied and ran to do her mistress’ bidding.

UNLIKE ALL of Joseph’s previous letters, the latest offering held but few words. Elizabeth opened it and immediately halted her stride. She saw shewould easily read it before even reaching the beach.

Sitting down on a nearby stone, she hastily scanned the bold, scrolling script. Using short words--as if in a great hurry--the writer spoke of how he was glad to hear that she was so nearby and hoped she was well. The last sentence made her stand up in anticipation:

“I will be in town until sundown; hopefully Harold will give you this letter with haste. If you can procure a servant to accompany you, I pray you would visit the forge. There is but one, by the entrance to the Stone Mountain Estate. If you have no objection, I very much wish to see you and speak with you. – Joseph”

Smiling to herself Elizabeth turned and flew up the path, hoping fervently that her mother or father had some errand to run. To her happy relief, she beheld the waiting carriage in the yard, where their manservant was hitching up the horses.

“Thomas…” she said to the servant, smiling. “Are we going into town?” The man nodded, drawing a bridle over the horse’s head.

“Yes, miss,” he said, pulling a strap tighter. “Madam has requested to go within the hour. His lordship is sending over a guard to ride with us.”

“There are thieves on the road?” Elizabeth said, paling. The servant shook his head.

“Don’t you worry, miss,” he said. “Likely the lord is but being careful.”

With this, Elizabeth ran towards the house and up the steps. She encountered her mother in the entry, putting on her gloves with a practiced deliberation. Mrs. Hays saw her daughter and fixed her with a cold look.

“Even though Harold is merely a servant, you must not run off like that again,” she instructed. “You must marry, and I am trying to get you a proper husband; one wealthy enough to get us out of this… dung-heap. Perhaps you may even attract the eye of a nobleman. If we are not invited to this ball such will not happen.”

Though tempted to argue wit her mother Elizabeth pushed the insult she felt down, hoping to procure a ride.

“Are you going into town, Mother?” she asked, trying to sound pleasant. Her mother gave her a curt nod.

“The Countess Beckenridge has been spending a good deal of time at the dressmakers in the village. Though it is a piddling town, they do have a decent notion of style and proper fabrics. I hope to see her and give her the information I have gathered. I think she may be interested to hear it.” Elizabeth did not think so, but she remained quiet.

Mrs. Hays looked at her daughter carefully.

“I will overlook your behavior and allow you to accompany me,” she said, taking her best bonnet from the maid; she turned to look into a mirror on the wall, setting the hat on her head and adjusting it just so. “You will need to be fitted for a new gown anyway, once we are invited. I will look over the dressmaker’s wares to see if they have anything suitable. Ah! The shops I used to frequent… to be relegated to a village dressmaker, it is too cruel.”

Mrs. Hays sighed, turning from the mirror. “However… the Countess will be there, so we must make the most of it. Hurry along child; put on your good bonnet and the silk shawl.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Elizabeth said, giving a small curtsy because she knew her mother liked that. Her attire changed per her mother’s instruction, Elizabeth joined Mrs. Hays in the entry room, preparing to go.

“Where is the guard from the castle?” the general’s wife said, impatiently. She tapped her fan on a small table.

All at once, a loud knock sounded on the door. The maid timidly opened the door, revealing a tough-looking man of medium height who looked as if would be more at home on a pirate ship. He wore the deep-blue wool castle-guard uniform, with richly embroidered stitching on the tunic and a strange, curved sword strapped to his belt. He had shrewd, brown eyes and smoked a large pipe with apparent enjoyment. Elizabeth’s mother looked at the man narrowly.

“I assume you are the guard who has kept us waiting,” she remarked, curtly. The man actually grinned, an action unusual for a servant.

“Dunner’s the name,” the man announced, apparently unaffected by Mrs. Hay’s icy tone. “His Lordship’s Captain of the Guard; my lord send his greetings and hopes my presence will stave off any thieving hordes.”

Out of habit, Elizabeth offered the newcomer a curtsy; her mother did not. Hearing the man was more highly connected to the mystery master of the land, Mrs. Hays did not address the man’s insolence but swept past him out the door.

“I am glad you are here to protect us, sir,” Elizabeth said, pleasantly. “Please give our thanks to his Lordship for his kind attention.”

Dunner smiled at the young woman; his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“I will lassie,” he said. “Thank ye.”

“Come Elizabeth,” Mrs. Hays called; she waited by the carriage door as Dunner and Elizabeth walked up. Instead of opening the door, the Captain of the Guard swung up to sit next to the driver.

“Well, I never!” Mrs. Hays huffed, insulted. Dunner smoked his pipe while the driver got down and opened the door for the ladies. Elizabeth thought she saw the strange man smile but could not be certain. Sitting across from her mother, she hovered by the window, trying not to look as excited as she felt.

No robbers bothered them along the road; the small party did not see even one soul--apart from the farmers--as they sped through the Stone Mountain estate toward Dorenvines. Coming up to the crest of the hill, Elizabeth smiled; just to the side of the estate entrance arch stood the forge, a handsome building two stories high; it looked neat and well-cared for. Smoke poured out of two chimneys and a few windows glowed with the red light of coal fires.

Elizabeth’s eyes strained to get some glimpse of anyone inside, but no one could be seen; the carriage swept past the forge, its metal-shod wheels rattling over the paving stones towards the heart of the town. Glancing at her mother, Elizabeth perceived the woman was eager to see this countess. Shaking her head, she sat back, hoping her mother would send her on an errand of some kind.

As expected, the Countess was at the dressmaker’s shop; as the carriage drove up, Mrs. Hays spied the noblewoman’s luxurious, curtained carriage outside, the well-uniformed footmen standing nearby.

“Wonderful!” she said, smiling. “Now, I want you to remain in the carriage. Don’t argue with me… I know which colors are suited for you. Instruct the driver pick up this list from the market and sit quietly. The countess will send a man to get you when we are done speaking.” The carriage came to halt near the shoppe; the driver hopped down and opened the door for Mrs. Hays. Handing her daughter a few coins for the market items, she stepped out of the carriage. Donning a regal air, the General’s wife appeared a person of some importance as she walked to the dressmaker’s door.

Leaning forward, Elizabeth knocked on the small window behind the driver; it slid open.

“Yes miss?” Thomas asked.

“My mother wishes to purchase these items at the market,” Elizabeth said, handing over the list through the window. “Please be so kind as to drive us there.” The driver did so; the market was not far away. Reaching a safe place to stop the carriage, the driver hopped down and stopped by the door; Elizabeth gave him the money and a small smile.

“One of your horses appears to have a problem with his shoe,” came a muffled, gruff voice from the driver’s seat. Thomas nodded.

“I saw it, sir,” he said, respectfully. “I would like to have the smith look at it, but I must to market. Perhaps, when we return to the Lord’s estate we can stop.”

“I’ll take the carriage there now, lad,” the man named Dunner offered. “You run off to the market.” Listening, Elizabeth felt a small hope blossom within her; perhaps she’d be able to see Joseph after all. Thomas seemed to be glad of the help. He got down from the carriage with the market list.

“I thank you, sir,” he said, nodding.

“I’ll call back here for you in one hour,” Dunner said, taking up the reigns. Elizabeth felt the jolt of the carriage as the horses cantered forward; the man had not said a word about her being still inside. Biting her lip, she sat, trying to calm herself. She had not seen Joseph in many months. After a few minutes, they pulled up to the forge.

Pulling the brake, Dunner swung down from the driver’s seat. He walked over to the forge door and rapped sharply on it.

“Smithy!” he called, loudly. Looking at the captain, Elizabeth saw the man wore a broad smile.

Inside the forge, Joseph hurriedly smeared handfuls of soot on himself; he covered his worn tunic with it and patted his face and arms as well. Under burlap sacks he hid the better apparel he’d taken off, as well as his sword and the thick, Shamar cloak.

Stepping outside he spied the Hays’ carriage and smiled, pretending not to notice it. Instead, he grasped hands with Dunner in greeting.

“How are ye, lad?” Dunner asked, looking at the sooty young man before him. “A bit more blackened than when I last saw ye...” Joseph narrowed his eyes at the man, slightly. He glanced towards the carriage but he could not see Elizabeth. Looking at Dunner he raised his eyebrows. Dunner nodded once, winking his eye and grinning.

“Her mother’s at the dressmakers,” the aged sailor told him, speaking quietly. “The driver’s at the market. I’m to go get him in an hour.”

His eyes fixed on the carriage, Joseph took a step towards it; his palms felt sweaty. An odd fluttering feeling filled his chest, though he could not think why. Gaining the side of the Hay’s carriage, he saw the young woman to whom he’d written so many letters to, looking very much the same as when he last saw her. Gladness filled him when she smiled; a look of real warmth radiated from her eyes.

“Welcome to my forge,” he said, holding out his hand to help her down.

“None of that…” Dunner said, gruffly. “Two cubits apart at all times.” Joseph shot his old friend a slightly discourteous look.

Elizabeth cleared her throat a little.

“My mother bid me stay in the carriage,” she said, gently. “Otherwise, I would gladly see the forge. It looks very well from the outside. A fine improvement over yourlast situation.” Joseph smiled at her, clasping his hands behind his back. GHe glanced at her neck.

“I see you still wear my necklace,” he said, looking into Elizabeth’s eyes once more.The young woman touched the necklace with a smile.

“Yes. I wear it every day. My mother does not like it; she thinks its glow is a bad omen of some kind.” Joseph chuckled at this statement.

The smith and his guest were able to speak for many minutes, with the watchful Dunner hovering nearby. At last, the chaperon sailor indicated it was time to leave. Joseph feltan odd sense of loss well up in him as the agin sailor prepared the horses to leave. He caught Elizabeth’s eye.

“I have been invited to the Spring Ball at Stone Mountain,” Joseph told her, suddenly. “I would like to see you there.”

Surprisedby the information, Elizabeth looked athim curiosly.

“You know the Lord of the Stone Mountain?” she asked, trying to hide her incredulity. The man before her was not the type to lie.

“We are… acquainted,” Joseph answered, reluctantly. “Save me your dances, if you will.” After a momentthe young woman smiled.

“I will,” she promised. “I would notbe ashamed to dance with you.”

Braving any disparaging looks from Dunner Joseph swept up Elizabeth’s slender hand and kissed the back of it. Letting go, he stepped back; Dunner swung up into the seat again and promptly drove the horses in a half-circle and back out the short drive. Elizabeth waved at Joseph from the carriage window, and then she was gone.

Looking after the carriage Joseph felt bereft of her presence, yet heartened at the same time. Clearly, her regard for him had not lessened. Heading back into his forge, he washed his arms and face quickly and changed into the more suitable clothes. Walking to the stable, he untied Belator and mounted quickly. With a singular purpose, the young man rode swiftly away from the town, cutting across his land swiftly; he headed away from the more familiar paths, towards the small house of his new estate Steward.

General Hays heard a horse ride up into the yard from within his study; standing, he waited for a knock on the front door. The servant opened the door and spoke with the person outside. Hays looked up as his manservant opened his study door.

“There is a Joseph Asher of Rishown to see you, sir,” he said, stepping aside.

At these words General Hays stood up, his face dressed in amazement. Indeed, the man entering his study was the self-same blacksmith he’d seen a year ago, in his office at the fort; the sword-fighting smith who’d been cleared of damning charges and released from his care... by the order of the King, himself. The young man seemed unchanged, and regarded the general with steady, brown eyes.