Authors: Janelle Taylor
“Then you must choose another from among my servants, for I hear they are much in love. Stay, and I will see that you are well rewarded with money and women.” Moran enjoyed Gavin’s easy-going personality, and since he had few friends, was easily snared by Gavin’s entertaining company. The girl came to stand beside Moran, to lure him away to a back room. “How can I reach you?” he asked.
“I come in here every few nights or so. Just ask for Gavin Hawk, or leave a message for me with the innkeeper. Your offer sounds as tempting as hers,” he said with a grin, nodding to the eager serving wench whose hands were wandering boldly over Moran’s body.
Gavin took a long time returning to his camp in the royal forest. He needed to think, but he was baffled by seeing his love today and by hearing about her tonight.
She had not contacted him recently, and that worried him. It looked and sounded as if she had made her choice, and the winner was Squire Teague! How could she do this, now that he had decided to fight for her? If she did not contact him within the next few days, he would find a way to reach her with a message. Tomorrow he would meet with Giselde and explain his problem, seeking her help. Another thing: he did not like how Prince Moran talked about Princess Alysa. Obviously Moran did not love Alysa, and only planned to use her. Even if Alysa was too naive, and even if she was charmed by Moran, she was Thisbe’s friend and King Bardwyn’s granddaughter; she deserved to be rescued by him, Gavin decided.
Due to a lame horse, Sheriff Trahern arrived at the castle near midnight. He went to Earnon’s room to deliver Isobail’s message. He was exhausted, so he would tell Earnon to pass the good news along to Moran. He had to knock many times before Earnon responded.
Isobail’s sorcerer eyed Trahern oddly and asked, “What do you want?”
“I have an urgent message from Princess Isobail. Let me enter so we can speak privately.” When Earnon hesitated, Trahern snapped, “I have ridden hard all day, and was forced by a lame horse to walk several miles. Waste no more of my time and energy. Move aside.”
Earnon obeyed and motioned the peevish sheriff to a chair in his outer chamber. “What is wrong?” he asked.
Trahern related the news of Sir Kelton’s death and how it affected Alric and Moran. “Can the prince be healed enough to hold the knighting ceremony tomorrow afternoon?”
Earnon considered the matter for a short time. “In the morning I can leave off the benumbing herbs and
give him a potion to clear his head. At the last moment I can give him a stimulant to provide a burst of energy enough for him to look well and carry out a quick ceremony. But a stimulus does not last long and is dangerous to use on such a sick man.”
“Would it be safer to wait another day?”
Earnon shook his head. “I would have to do the same thing. The only safe way to get Alric up and around is to take him off the stupefying herbs for a week or more. I doubt Isobail wants to wait that long.”
“I am sure she does not. She wants Moran knighted and on his way to take over Kelton’s territory before the lords suggest someone else. Take care of Alric, and tell Moran to prepare himself to be dubbed tomorrow. I need to eat and go to bed.” Trahern left to seek a servant to bring him food and prepare a room for the night.
Kyra appeared from her hiding place in Earnon’s sleeping chamber. He asked simply, “You heard?”
She nodded. “My mother will be home tomorrow. Soon she will order us to slay Baltair, and then hand me over to Calum as if I mean nothing to her. Do you agree with my idea to go along with her, then slay Calum and claim the castle for ourselves? How could she refuse us?”
“How can I allow Calum to touch you?” he said in torment.
“I will find many excuses to thwart him. I will get rid of him before he can bed me even once. Then we can have each other openly. If Mother tries to deny us, we will slay her too! Return to my arms, my love, for our time together is short.”
It was early when Trahern handled what could have been a perilous oversight by Isobail: Baltair. He ordered an escort to pack supplies for a hasty trip, then summoned the seneschal and informed him, “I come with terrible news, Baltair. Sir Kelton met with an accident and he is dead. Princess Isobail is returning this afternoon from Lord Orin’s, but she sent me ahead to give you a message. Our regent needs you to go to Sir Kelton’s and govern until someone can be selected to fill his place. She is depending on you to keep everything in order and running smoothly.”
Baltair, immediately suspecting foul play, concealed his shock. “What if I am needed here by Prince Alric?” he asked without inflection.
“The prince is too ill to need anyone, and you are the seneschal. You know how quickly things can fall into disrepair and ruin when no one is around to prevent it. You are needed there, Baltair. Why would you refuse such a simple request? In her name, I order it.”
“It will take time to prepare for such a journey.”
The sheriff said irritably, “All is packed except your personal belongings. Gather them quickly before Sir Kelton’s servants scatter and possessions vanish. There are cattle to be fed, crops to be tended, and servants to
be governed. The messenger said Lady Kadra is distraught and cannot handle such tasks. Kelton Castle has been without a master for several days, and there are bandits roaming the hills and moors. Princess Isobail wants you there as quickly as possible. The guards are waiting to escort you safely; you must hurry.”
Baltair had no choice but to heed Trahern’s command, and a servant was sent to help him pack. The worried seneschal was told that Prince Alric was sleeping and Princess Alysa bathing, so he could see and speak with neither before being rushed from the castle. Baltair sensed a clever scheme in the air but he could not discover what it was. As he was passing the gatehouse, he caught Piaras’s eye, hoping the knight-trainer understood him and would continue to observe events in the castle.
From the inner ward Trahern smiled as he watched the group leave. Isobail would be pleased by his cleverness. Still fatigued, he returned to his bed for a few hours, since he had a busy day and night ahead of him.
Piaras observed the incident with intrigue. When time permitted late this afternoon, he would report these curious events to Giselde.
In the south tower on the first floor, Kyra sleepily answered the persistent summons on her door. “It is early, Moran. What do you want?”
Moran chuckled, pushed her aside, then entered her sitting room. He casually strolled around the room, fingering trinkets before dropping into a chair. He flung one leg over its arm and sank back comfortably, then gazed at the quizzical girl. “You surprise me, sister.”
Called to wariness, Kyra closed the door. She came forward and asked in an even tone that matched his, “How so, little brother?”
“I need your help to win Alysa. I demand it,” he added coldly.
“Did you come here to play games?”
“I have no time for games. I saw you leave Earnon’s chamber last night, too late and too mussed for an innocent visit. I do not know why you crave an old man’s touch and body, but that is your affair. I am sure Mother does not know her advisor is bedding her daughter and I doubt you two want her to learn such an amusing secret. Do as I say, Kyra, or I shall expose you.”
“We love and desire each other, Moran, things you know nothing about, but Mother would never betroth us. She needs me to wed Sir Calum. I will obey her, but only after I have taken my fill of Earnon. I will help you win Alysa, but not because you demand it. Nothing would please me more than to see her under your sadistic control, or at your mercy. You will not open your mouth to Mother about us, or I will tell. Alysa where you go and what you do when you leave the castle. Afterwards, I doubt she would marry you for any reason.”
Moran laughed heartily. “It is good to see your backbone has hardened, sister. I feared you would allow Mother to keep it soft forever. We have a bargain. While I am away, work on Alysa for me.”
“You are leaving today?” she asked, curious.
“Ah, yes, you have not heard the good news,” he teased, then enlightened her. “Soon I will have Sir Kelton’s castle and Alysa, as you will have Sir Calum’s. Whatever your fascination with the old man, use him up quickly before you leave. Calum is not a fool, so do not risk secret meetings with your old lover. Do you think you can handle Sir Calum? I hear his appetite is large and varied.”
“More so than yours, little brother?” she taunted.
“Which do you prefer, yes or no?” he asked amidst chuckles.
“If Calum is as skilled as I hear you are, then I hope it is yes.”
Moran studied Kyra’s expression and grinned. “We
are more alike than I realized, sister. Perhaps we should become allies.”
Alric was propped upon many pillows in his bed. He felt better this morning; no, he felt strange and wonderful. His body was tingly and warm, and no gripans tormented him. There was no sour taste in his mouth, his eyes were not heavy, and his body did not feel sluggish and limp. It was as if he could feel his blood racing wildly, blissfully, through his body to heal it. He was alive and happy, almost ecstatic and carefree. He wanted to jump out of bed and dance around the room, but dared not try such a foolish thing. He almost giggled, for he felt like a young lad again.
Trahern had just left his room, delivering a mixture of good and bad news. His friend and vassal was dead, but Prince Moran would take Sir Kelton’s place. What an honor and joy to knight your own son, even if no one knew that secret! Alric decided it was only right for Moran to receive Kelton Castle, for all believed he was Lord Caedmon’s son, and that grant had belonged to Caedmon and Isobail Ahern. It was the best and only way to reward his son, since his daughter would get the crown and Malvern Castle. On this special day Alric wished he could tell Moran the truth about his heritage, but knew he could not, not without exposing his dark deed against Isobail while she was the wife of another man. He had guarded that secret for years, and for more reasons than he could recall clearly at this moment, he must continue to do so.
This was going to be a wonderful day. He would show everyone he was still their ruler—a good ruler, a strong ruler, an undying ruler. He would be careful not to overtire himself. He would avoid all food and drink, keeping them from racing treacherously through his body and sending him back to bed. His beautiful wife
was coming home today, and he was eager to see her. Sometimes he and Isobail had disagreements, but that did not matter today. His emotions were soaring, and he could forgive her anything. He would order her to spend tonight in his bed, as his manroot was strong and hot this morning, and it itched madly to be cooled by the moist and stimulating walls of her receptive womanhood. Nothing, he decided headily, could go wrong for him today.
From her window Alysa furtively observed Isobail’s arrival and her exuberant welcome by her son. The two laughed, embraced, and chatted as they entered the Great Tower arm in arm, practically ignoring everyone around them. Alysa had received the news about Sir Kelton’s death and Moran’s imminent knighting. She hated to leave her chamber, but she could not avoid the ceremony. She did not want to confront Moran, suspecting he would pressure her for an answer to his proposal on this “momentous day.” What, she fretted, would he do if Isobail brazenly announced their betrothal after the dubbing?
Things were going awry. Alysa had been frantic after learning of Baltair’s hasty departure. She had wanted to visit her father, but Thisbe and Leitis had told her that people kept going in and out of his chamber, which prevented her from sneaking inside via the secret passage. She had been told she could visit Alric only with Trahern or Earnon present, to make certain she did not upset the prince today, when he had such a taxing schedule before him.
No one seemed to think her father’s sudden recovery unusual, not even dear Leitis. She heard that he was feeling wonderful and was looking forward to the ceremony; yet despite his improvement, he had not asked to see her. She had wanted to go riding, but Sheriff
Trahern had ordered the gates locked to prevent any intrusions today. Everything was going crazy, and she did not know what to do.
She needed to question Gavin, and she had to explain her predicament to him. She needed Giselde for advice and information, and to ask her if there was a reason to suspect Gavin of treachery, because of what Baltair had told her about the Vikings. She needed so much!
Within an hour she must stand with her family to witness her stepbrother’s dubbing. Sir Kelton was gone, Lord Friseal was gone, and Lord Daron was gone; in their places were Moran, Trahern, and Calum: all members of her stepmother’s force. Only two left, but Lord Fergus was under siege and Lord Orin was charmed by Isobail. If help did not arrive in a few more days, as Baltair promised, she would have to take drastic steps…
Having taken it with her to Malvern Castle after Caedmon’s death, Isobail sent Moran the sword that had been in the Ahern family for three generations. Moran placed it upon the altar for consecration, as was the custom. There was no time to carry out the entire ceremony of feasting, which included spending the night in a chapel for the
Vigil At Arms-hours
of praying and fasting and purifying of soul and body, and the confessing of his sins to a priest. Moran did what time allowed: he bathed, donned white garments, clipped his hair short, and awaited the
accolade.
Alysa watched her father enter the Great Hall, mount the dais, and take his place in the throne chair beside Isobail. Sheriff Trahern had escorted Alric, but not assisted him. Alysa could not believe the difference in her father since sneaking into his room Thursday night.
Leitis had told her Alric was receiving no herbs of any kind, and Alysa had not given the trusted servant the new herbs from Giselde, so his recovery was astounding. She had to admit, he did look vigorous today. He was smiling and nodding to those around him, but it was not the old Alric on the throne. His eyes looked too bright and shiny, his cheeks glowing with too much excitement. He was dressed in his finest garments, as was everyone. All knights present were gathered nearby, and in jocular moods. The village priest had arrived to bless Moran’s sword and say a prayer before and after the ceremony.
Alysa felt in a daze as she watched Sir Phelan, Captain of the Guard, press the hilt of Caedmon’s sword to Moran’s lips, then buckle it around her stepbrother’s waist. Sir Piaras had been given the honor of “the girding on” of Moran’s golden spurs. Moran approached Prince Alric and knelt. In a clear and strong voice, Moran recited the Vows of Chivalry. Using the Malvern sword, her father firmly tapped Moran on both shoulders and then atop his head, completing the
accolade.
Alysa was intrigued and dismayed by the look on her father’s face: fierce pride, fatherly pride, and inexplicable happiness.
Minstrels began to play merry music, and the festivities got under way. The tables were covered rapidly and abundantly with food and drink, and even the servants were allowed to feast and dance on this day. Isobail reigned over the afternoon like a majestic queen, and Kyra danced with nearly every man present. Alysa tried to converse with her father, but he was too distracted. She knew he was not intoxicated, for he spoke clearly, and in fact refused all refreshments. She did not know why she was so frightened by his behavior—laughing, joking, having fun—but she was.
Alysa danced with a few knights and squires, and nibbled lightly on the tasty feast. To keep her head clear, she drank no wine. She tried to appear happy and calm,
but wondered if she were succeeding, as she felt neither. The first dance had been shared with Moran, then he had been caught up with colorful tales and advice from the other knights. Each time she glanced at him, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. For once she could not tell what part of Moran’s conduct was false and what part was honest. Suddenly he was at her side, grinning suspiciously.
When Isobail arose and asked for everyone’s attention for an announcement, Alysa feared she would faint from dread. Moran placed his hand at her waist, drew her close, and smiled into her frantic eyes. Alysa waited tensely for her world to spin away wildly.
Smiling, Isobail called Squire Teague and Thisbe forward. Alysa’s gaze widened as she witnessed the unexpected scene. Isobail joined the lovers’ hands and Prince Alric betrothed them, promising to knight Teague within the month so they could marry before autumn. Teague hugged Thisbe, and nearly everyone present cheered their approval.
Moran leaned close to Alysa and whispered. “As I promised, little mouse, I asked. Mother to betroth them as my gift for today. I wanted to ask for your hand, but I knew you were not ready, and I did not want to frighten you away from me. Does that please you, and warm your heart toward me?” he teased.
Alysa met Moran’s smoldering gaze and said, “That pleases me very much, Moran. You have acted kindly and unselfishly by sharing your special day with others, the deed of a true knight. I am glad you did not coerce me today; such behavior reveals you can be patient even when you desire something greatly. I am warmed by the changes in you during the last year. It is like… like meeting you for the first time. Before you must leave, will you join me for a dance and a goblet of wine?”
“That pleases me very much, little mouse,” he said,
echoing her earlier words before taking her hand and leading her to the dancing area.
The two-hour ceremony and feast passed swiftly. Then it was time for Moran to leave. He spoke privately with his mother who told him not to worry about Alysa, as if he would after hearing Alysa’s pleasing words. Isobail vowed that no man would come to court Alysa and she would be given to Moran within the month.
“If I give her to you today, my handsome son, it might appear improper to others. Sir Kelton dies, you are knighted, you take his place—our old home—and you get Damnonia’s heir all at once. It could look as though we are taking advantage of Sir Kelton’s death. Wait a while to claim her. First get settled in your new home.”