Noble Falling (2 page)

Dalric’s booming voice suddenly filled the courtyard, causing several of the younger guardsmen to jump. Amused, I smiled to myself. Dalric had been a constant presence in my life, and although it often caused many of the guards to shake in their boots, his voice no longer had an effect on the servants who had spent most of their lives working in the castle, or on me. As if it were a peacefully quiet morning and Dalric’s voice was only the chirping of birds, my own grin was matched by my footman’s as I walked toward my carriage. He was just as used to the Captain as I, and even more accustomed to Dalric’s direct anger.

“I wish you well, Duchess Aleana.” Dalric’s sudden appearance surprised me, displaying an inordinate amount of stealth for someone his size. “We will miss you.”

There was an inflection to his parting I had not heard before. And although I could not explain why, the same feeling washed over me as I had experienced when looking at the guardsmen.

Ignoring the rising unease, I offered him my hand. “Thank you, Dalric. I am more than confident that you can manage things here for now.”

He dipped his head toward my extended hand before helping me into my seat and closing the door. To my surprise, I found the young maid from earlier seated beside a smiling Surea. Telling myself the young woman would finally look at me if I assured her of my intended kindness, I offered a friendly greeting as I situated myself for such a long journey. Despite my efforts, she kept her eyes trained on the floorboards of the carriage, giving only a nod to let me know she had heard me.

Rather than attempt to strike up conversation, I turned my attention toward the castle keep as we slowly started moving. The handful of servants who stayed to tend to the basic needs of an empty castle were gathered to the side of Dalric and the remaining guards. Once again trying to ignore the feeling gnawing at my stomach, I extended my arm out the window, a quiet good-bye to those who had watched me grow from a small child. Families, friends, and lovers of the guards accompanying me all waved in return.

I took in every sight I could, trying to soak in each extra second before I would have to close the window’s curtain and resign myself to the monotonous jerks of the moving carriage. The yellow flowers I picked for my mother as a child, the smoke from kitchen fires billowing from small homes, the way the moss grew on the stones of the castle walls—I tried to memorize all of it. Such insubstantial details suddenly held great importance. A while later, when we had made our way to the edge of the forest, I turned one last time to watch my home fade into the face of the cliffs. Closing the window curtain, I tried my best to quell the voice telling me I would not see Eniva again.

A
S
the sounds of the camp woke me from a fitful sleep, I immediately felt the soreness winding through my body. I shifted on the small cot, the supports stabbing me as I sought a comfortable position. Finally, I forced my eyes open and was almost blinded by the surprisingly bright morning light pouring through the tent flap. Letting my eyes adjust, I tried not to think about how many more uncomfortable nights I would have to spend on the poor excuse for a bed. Climbing to my feet, I felt my muscles slowly loosen as my limbs extended. The tightness worked its way farther from my body as I made my way toward Surea, whose form was bent over the fire.

“We’ll be on the road again soon, Your Grace.” Surea handed me a plate of smoked meat and hearty bread before kicking dirt on the smoldering embers and starting to pack up the mess kit.

Surea was quite accustomed to my morning silence and didn’t bother asking how I slept. Though she didn’t speak to me, it was obvious she was in her usual early morning good mood. Each of the large spoonfuls of oatmeal she gulped down only seemed to make her happier. Nibbling on my own breakfast and watching Surea scuttling around was doing nothing to make the day’s journey seem tolerable.

As soon as I gave up trying to finish the bland bread, Surea was there to grab the plate for rinsing and packing. I had not even realized it, but the soldiers were finishing up with the entire campsite, my tent already dismantled and stored. Knowing I would be sitting for the largest portion of the day, I took the chance to walk around the camp and greet some of the men. Their heads dipped as I passed, but against formality, a few of the guards stared directly at me. The sudden lapse in discipline thickened the tension in the air as each pair of eyes met mine.

I tried to ignore the sensation but was unable to until I noticed my newest maid. As she had done all during our previous time in the carriage, her gaze snapped away from mine as soon as I looked to her. She had been uncommonly adept at avoiding my attention the day before, but I had promised myself I would learn her name, and perhaps even get her to look at me. Before I could make my way toward the girl, the footman approached me, informing me the convoy was ready to leave. As expected, I took his offered arm and let him lead me away. On reaching the carriage, I allowed the footman to help me in, then took my seat opposite an already smiling Surea and the quiet girl who had somehow managed to find her place before I was seated.

Surea’s hand reached out to give me a reassuring pat on the knee as the carriage began to rock once more. It was no doubt an attempt to remove the grimace that settled on my face as soon as I had situated myself within the carriage. Trying to get her to worry about me less, I offered a slight grin. Thankfully, she seemed content with the gesture and leaned back, her eyes closing for the first of the day’s many naps.

After some time had passed and Surea’s slight snoring filled the carriage, I tore my gaze from the forest and glanced over to the quiet woman sitting next to the slumbering Surea. For once, the girl was too slow to look away, and I was able to capture her light-brown eyes with my own.

“What’s your name?” I spoke gently, trying not to scare the poor girl more than I already had.

“It’s… I am….” The girl took a deep breath, “My name is Myria, Your Grace.”

Watching her speak, I noticed for the first time the elegant curve to her jawline.

I smiled. “Well met, Myria. I felt I should at least know your name if we are to share this cage for the next two weeks.”

The girl was unsure of what to say and could only manage a slight grin, which was more akin to a grimace than anything.

“Oh, Myria, she is not going to do anything to you. Relax a little bit, dearie,” Surea murmured while reaching over to squeeze the small girl’s hand, never opening her eyes and quickly drifting back to sleep.

“Surea is right. I only intend to actually speak with my company. I consider it a better alternative than sitting in silence for the length of another day.”

“Forgive me, Duchess. I just did not know what to say.” Myria finally brought her gaze up to meet my own before her next words rushed forth. “But I must thank you a thousand times for hiring me. My husband and I need the money.”

I briefly thought to myself how young she was for a wife, but then I realized she must be within a year of my own age, and there I was, on my way to my own wedding.

“Your thanks should be sent to Captain Dalric. I’m afraid I had no knowledge of any recent hiring.” My gap in knowledge was bothersome—a true queen should know everything.

Myria offered a more genuine smile. “Then I shall ask my husband to do so for me.”

As soon as she spoke, it was as if a distant memory snapped into her consciousness. Her gaze quickly fell to the floorboards once more, and a heavy silence surrounded us. Reminded of the camp’s mood this morning, I felt a chill creep along my skin. I forced more conversation, hoping to rid myself of the feeling that had settled in my chest. Met only with Myria’s once again quiet demeanor, I quickly gave up. Still feeling as if something wasn’t exactly right, I shut my eyes, hoping a nap would remove the cause of my discontent.

M
Y
head cracked into the side of the carriage as it jerked roughly, forcibly waking me from my small nap. I felt my forehead and winced as my fingers pressed into the now tender flesh. As the fog of sleep and pain subsided, I finally realized the carriage was no longer moving. Hearing shouts coming from outside, I immediately moved to draw the curtain, only to feel Surea’s shockingly strong grip clasp around my wrist. Seeing the look of terror on the faces of both my traveling companions, the harsh rebuke for Surea’s actions died in my throat.

The panic immediately rose, bubbling through me as though my blood were water ready to boil. There was only one reason for our convoy to stop in such a manner: we were under attack. I strained to hear what was happening outside, but I could not calm my nerves enough to focus on the plethora of voices. A sword rasped as it was drawn from its sheath. The distinctive sound ignited the charged atmosphere, and the singing of freed blades echoed all around the carriage.

The ring of steel striking against steel shattered whatever silent hopes I had that there would not be bloodshed. I caught Myria’s eye, finding a look that was not entirely fear, but her trembling was painfully apparent. I reached out to grab her hand, hoping mine was steady enough to offer her some comfort while I tried to give a name to the emotion spread across her face. She squeezed my hand in response to the sickening thud of a blade entering flesh. I looked to Surea, who had placed her hand on my knee, a gesture I had not even noticed. My free hand reached out to cover the old maid’s, more to comfort myself than her.

The carriage lurched to the side as a man’s body was thrown into it. Despite how hard I was trying to swallow the lump in my throat, I felt tears pricking my eyes. The door was ripped open—blinding sunlight filled the cabin. I heard a scream, and I could not be sure it wasn’t mine. My eyes adjusted and saw the crest of Dakmor on the attacking man’s chest, sending my heart to my throat. The man reached for me, a blade stained with crimson in his other hand. I scrambled to avoid his grasp. Surea threw herself at him in an attempt to defend me, but the Dakmoran turned her aside and sent her crashing to the ground. He grabbed the bottom of my dress as I felt the door behind me open. Before I could react, an arm wrapped around me, pulling me from the carriage.

I struggled against my captor’s grasp, watching as Surea climbed to her feet and latched herself onto the Dakmoran yet again. The man finally turned his attention from me, and completely ignoring the sobbing Myria, his fist swung around to connect with Surea. I tried to cry out, but a hand pressed against my mouth. I could see Surea through the open doors of my carriage, trying to climb to her feet. The Dakmoran saw Surea’s effort as well. I wanted to call out to her. I wanted to beg her to stay down, to avoid drawing attention to herself. But no, like she always had, she tried to protect me, launching herself at the armed man with renewed anger. The man was ready, though, and hot tears blurred my vision as I watched him thrust his blade into the old woman’s abdomen.

Surea slowly fell to the ground and in a vain attempt to save her, I fought once more for my freedom. As I struggled to tear myself loose from the man’s grasp, his arm tightened, crushing the air from my lungs. His hand was still pressed to my mouth as he pulled me farther away from the carriage, dragging me into the thick brush lining the road. I dug my heels into the soft ground. I knew it was useless, but I would not just resign myself to this man’s will. As he struggled to pull me away, through vision still blurred from the tears pouring down my face, I watched the scene unfolding before me. In spite of my intent, the fight left my body, and I went limp. Not only were Dakmor’s troops attacking my guards, but men dressed in my own colors raised their swords against their comrades.

Traitors. My people had turned against me—they had turned against my family.

I was soon swallowed by the clawing branches of the forest. Somehow, no one had seen me being dragged into the brush. And yet, even if someone had seen me, I would not know if they were friend or foe. The desire to fight had drained entirely from my body. I waited for whatever fate had in store for me next, not caring at the moment what exactly would ensue. When the searing pain of a knife entering my flesh never came, and no hands were ripping at my dress, I finally noticed a murmur at my ear.

“Milady, please.” The man’s breath brushed past my ear yet again. “We have to get you out of here.”

My senses began to register the sights around me. My body slowly responding to my commands once more, my legs held my weight. Looking around, I realized the man must have pulled me a mere fifty paces from the main road.

“Duchess, nod if you understand what I am saying to you.” I looked down at the gloved hand still lightly pressed to my mouth and saw the familiar beige color of my soldiers’ issued gear. “I mean you no harm, and I need you to listen to me.”

I nodded slightly and felt the man’s grip around me loosen.

“You know I will not hurt you?”

Fully aware I should not trust anyone, I nodded only so I could turn to look at the man who had captured me.