by Peter Wacht
Caught completely off guard, Kaylie looked up at her father dumbstruck. The six gifts of womanhood? Where had he come up with that? Noticing a few more streaks of grey in the hair by his temple, the strands confirmed her suspicions. He was either growing senile or having fun at her expense. Well, two could play at that game.
"Excellent, father, I can hardly wait. But I think five is plenty. Chastity is such a tired, obsolete concept in this day and age."
"What?" Her father looked like he was going to swallow his tongue in shock. It took him a few seconds to realize that now he was on the receiving end. His shock quickly turned to irritation. Why was his daughter so exasperating? As soon as she bit on to something, she never let go. "All right, enough of that."
Kaylie refused to give in. "Why can't I learn to fight, father? Just because I'm a girl? That's just not right."
"It's not because you're a girl, Kaylie. It's because you're a princess." Gregory sighed in frustration. "I've told you that many times before."
"But all the boys my age are learning how to fight. Please, father, you know I can do it. Kael says I'm good enough with a dagger to take part in the competition at the Eastern Festival, and that's just a few months away. In fact, he says I'm better than any of the boys he's training now."
"Yes, but they're training to be soldiers. You're not. You're a princess, and someday you will be queen. As a result, you have certain responsibilities to the Kingdom and to your people. Learning how to fight with a sword is not one of those responsibilities."
"But what about me? What about what I want to do? Doesn't that matter?" Kaylie's voice cracked in desperation.
While growing up she had done almost anything she wanted. Recently, though, she had learned that as a princess, you often faced more restrictions than freedoms.
"There are times when you must put the interests of your people, the people you are responsible for, before your own." Gregory tried to control his temper, but Kaylie had pushed him too hard. "You have gotten your way for far too long, Kaylie, and for that I blame myself. Perhaps if your mother were here, things would be different."
A tinge of sadness crept into his voice. "You are a princess, and you must learn how to rule Fal Carrach. I didn't raise you to be a spoiled brat, so stop acting like one. You will do as I say, and that's the end of it."
Gregory marched forward toward one of his soldiers. He hated having to put his foot down, but sometimes it was necessary. It was not the way he wanted to start the day, and hopefully didn't bode ill for the rest of it. All he had wanted to do was to spend a few days with his daughter in relative peace and quiet. Instead, he had walked into the middle of a maelstrom.
The end of it, was it, Kaylie fumed. The end of it! We'll see about that. Her father might think the argument over, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot. Taking a few moments to gather her thoughts and plan her next line of attack, Kaylie studied the foliage around her. They walked along a woodsman's trail barely wide enough for two people to travel abreast. She smiled every so often as an animal poked its head out from the bushes to see who intruded in its territory. First a squirrel, next a rabbit, then even a red fox.
The forest was absolutely remarkable, in her opinion. True, she was a princess, and had people to help her do whatever was needed, from picking out her clothes to starting her bath. Yet, there were the countless court functions as well, from having to receive lecherous, old ambassadors who lied through their teeth to sitting through the most mundane, boring feasts for hours on end. What she would give for just a few days of freedom — to decide what she was going to do, when she was going to do it and how.
The stone blocks of the Rock in recent months had begun to feel like cell walls. It was strange, really. The Rock was her home. Yet at times all she wanted to do was escape — from the Rock, from her responsibilities, from her life as a princess. Kaylie smiled as her imagination drifted in a dozen different directions. She wanted excitement. She wanted adventure. She wanted romance. Kaylie glanced at her father's back, just a few feet in front of her.
For one strange second, she thought she might have voiced what she was thinking, but she hadn't, thankfully. If she had, the shouting match they had just engaged in would have been nothing more than a quiet conversation compared to the inevitable argument to follow. Try as he might, her father refused to see her as anything but a little girl.
"You know, father, I learned something very interesting just the other day during one of my history lessons."
"Oh, what was that?" Gregory whispered a silent thank you, glad that Kaylie had finally decided to talk of something else.
"It had to do with the Highlands," she began, picking up her pace so she walked by his side again. When she got there, she gave her father her sweetest smile. She had watched him interact with other rulers and ambassadors. He would treat them with the greatest respect and utmost kindness, even if they insulted him. Then, when they were feeling comfortable and in control, her father would hit them like you would a stake with a sledgehammer, taking command of the situation with the sudden change in momentum and making his own demands, which were usually agreed upon. "The first Highland Lord was not a Lord after all."
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"Exactly what I said, father," said Kaylie, walking along beside him. "The first Highland Lord wasn't really a lord." She knew she had piqued his interest.
"All right, out with it girl. I can't remember my history. How can the first Highland Lord not really be a lord? You mean he was a commoner?"
"No, not at all, father. The first Highland Lord wasn't a he, but a she, so obviously she couldn't be a lord. Her name was Alessandra, and when the clans of the Highlands gathered to choose their first Highland Lord, everyone assumed that it would be a man. But it didn't work out the way they thought it would.
“To become the Highland Lord the leaders of the different clans had to take a series of tests. The lord of one of the clans — I can't remember his name right now, but he's not important anyway — had died in a skirmish with Ogren. Because of that Alessandra, the dead clan lord's wife, took his place according to their laws until the clan chose a successor. But they didn't have time to select one because all the clans had to reach the gathering, so Alessandra went as the clan lord.
"Anyway, there were many different tests that the clan leaders had to pass, from reciting the history of the Highlands to fighting the best of the Highland champions to knowing the intricacies of the law. She passed all those tests without any trouble at all, but most of the other clan leaders failed. The last test was one of weapons. The clan leaders who remained, I think six or seven in all plus Alessandra, entered the training circle, and the last one to remain standing without being cut would be declared the first Lord of the Highlands. Obviously no one expected Alessandra to survive the competition.
"But she won!" The excitement in Kaylie's voice was tangible, bringing a wary smile to Gregory's face. He knew exactly where she was going with her story, but he didn't want to interrupt. If nothing else, it was good to know that she at least paid attention to some of her lessons.
"It just so happened that she was an only child, her mother having died when she was a baby. Her father didn't really know how to raise a girl all by himself, so he had taught her how to fight with a dagger, a sword and a bow. That training was put to good use. By the end of the competition she was the last one standing in the training circle without a drop of blood somewhere on her body. As a result, she was declared the first Highland Lord. So the first Highland Lord wasn't really a lord after all. And because of her, from that time forward, Highland women trained to become warriors just like the men."
"An excellent story, Kaylie," said Gregory. "I'm glad to see that you enjoy at least a few of your lessons."
"Yes, a very few," she said in frustration. Was her father really that dense? "Don't you see my point? If the women of the Highlands can learn how to fight, so can I. Alessandra was the ruler of the Highlands. I will rule
Fal Carrach one day. It only seems appropriate that I should—"
"Enough, Kaylie," said Gregory, chopping the air with his hand to emphasize his point. "Enough. Despite your story, my opinion remains the same."
Kaylie stared at her father with daggers in her eyes. She mimicked her father chopping his hand through the air, mouthing the word “enough,” but making sure that he couldn't see her while she did it. He was the most stubborn—
Fine, he still refused to teach her the sword. The trip wasn't over yet, and she could be just as stubborn as he, even more so. By the time they returned to the Rock, she’d have what she wanted.
"So what do you think about this Raptor, father?" Kaylie asked sweetly, though her eyes failed to match her voice. Try as she might, her irritation remained. "You know, the man, or animal, or whatever, that hunts the Highlands for the creatures of darkness. I keep hearing a new story every week about how this Raptor saved a small farmhouse from a band of Fearhounds or protected a lone woodsman from Ogren. Just the other day a farmer told Kael that he had stumbled upon the still warm bodies of a Shade and a half-dozen Ogren in one of his fields. So what do you think, father?"
"I think you should spend less time listening to far-fetched stories."
"They might not be stories, father. Exaggerations, perhaps, but there’s always a kernel of truth in every story. You told me that once, you know."
"Maybe," he replied noncommittally, "But I put little faith in the stories I hear about this Raptor. Some of it is just too remarkable to believe."
Kaylie thought about it for a moment and decided that her father might be right. Then again, he was wrong about not letting her learn the sword so he could be wrong about this as well.
"I wonder if the Raptor is the Lost Kestrel."
Gregory stopped abruptly and spun around. "Why do you think that?"
The sharpness of his voice surprised her. She hesitated before answering.
"I don't know, I was just thinking out loud. That's all."
Gregory grunted and walked ahead, obviously wanting to be alone with his thoughts.
Kaylie wondered what had gotten into him. She had never seen him act like that before. Oh, well, she'd think about that later. She still had to figure out how to convince him that he was being a bull-headed fool for not letting her train with Kael, but in a way that wouldn't result in a shouting match.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
Getting Closer
"Yes, Beluil, I know," said Thomas between breaths, translating the image sent by his friend. "I think they will come back too, and very soon."
They had tracked the pack of Fearhounds for most of the day and were still no closer to their quarry. Each time Thomas and Beluil angled in a direction that would allow them to catch up to the dark creatures, the pack moved off another two or three leagues.
Thomas blamed it on bad luck. The Fearhounds couldn't know they were there, could they? And even if they did, why would that stop them from attacking? Thomas and Beluil were only two and the pack probably contained as many as fifteen to twenty Fearhounds.
The sun had had dropped below the horizon, giving way to a quarter moon that provided little light and no warmth. A cold wind swept down from the north that presaged an early winter. Thomas and Beluil made camp where the Burren met the Highlands, putting a large, flat rock over the fire so as not to attract any attention. Beluil lay in a comfortable spot right in front of the fire, stretching out his long frame to soak in as much warmth as possible.
The Fearhounds had turned north and followed the Southern River out onto the Northern Steppes during the afternoon after darting in and out of the Highlands. Thomas and Beluil had gone as far as where the Southern River met the Sea of Mist before returning to the edge of the Burren.
The behavior of the pack bothered Thomas. Normally, Fearhounds wandered randomly during the hunt, searching for any prey that crossed their path. But not this time. Throughout the day the Fearhounds had traveled along the southern edge of the Highlands, and at regular intervals made at least a dozen quick forays into the Burren before returning to the Highland border. They had even entered Oakwood Forest.
They were hunting, but this time for something in particular. Maybe that's why they didn't come after him and Beluil. They were too busy with their search to bother. Thomas' curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know what these Fearhounds pursued.
"We'll wait here, Beluil. When they come south again, we'll be ready."
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
Aggravation
Kaylie left her father alone for the rest of the afternoon, deciding that she had pushed hard enough for the time being. As evening approached, Gregory led the troop along the bed of a small stream until it converged with another in the middle of a small glen. A hill sat at the juncture where the two streams formed into one.
As the soldiers set up camp for the night and started dinner, Kaylie wandered over to the hill. She thought it would be an easy climb to the top, but the tall grass that covered its sides deceived her. Several times she slipped as she tried to dig her feet into the hillside, and by the time she finally reached the top, beads of perspiration covered her forehead.
The hill topped the trees pushing in on the small glade her father had chosen as a campsite, allowing her to see for miles around. Below her the soldiers worked diligently at their tasks while Gregory surveyed everything with a practiced eye. That was interesting. From where she stood, Kaylie thought this hill, at some point in the past, might have actually been a waterfall. On both sides it appeared as if the forest ran up against the hill, which more and more looked like a cliff as she studied it. If her father decided to go in this direction tomorrow, they'd either have to climb up the hill or parallel the cliff until it tapered off again to level ground.
As she faced north, her breath caught in her throat. The snow-covered peaks of the Highlands towered over the trees, their huge forms speaking of strength and age. It was an awesome sight. She would do almost anything to have the opportunity to travel in the Highlands and see where Alessandra had assumed her place as leader of the most feared warriors in all the Kingdoms. Every day would be an adventure, filled with danger, excitement and fun.
"Kaylie, time for dinner," yelled her father, who stood at the base of the hill.
"Coming, father."
She took one last glimpse at the towering peaks. Someday, she promised herself. Someday.
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT
Stories
"Enough, Kaylie. You cannot train with Kael beyond the dagger. I will not change my mind so you might as well stop trying."
Dinner passed quietly after that as Gregory and Kaylie sat in front of a small fire, their backs up against a log dragged there by a few soldiers. Both were tired and hungry from the day's trek. The resemblance between father and daughter was remarkable, as both wore similar expressions of aggravation. When Kaylie finished her meal, she immediately started up again about learning how to use a sword. Tenacious almost to a fault, she refused to admit defeat. That same tenacity Gregory so admired most of the time was beginning to wear on his nerves.
"But—"
"No buts," said Gregory, cutting off his daughter. "I will not change my mind."
Kaylie slumped back against the log, crossing her arms and grimacing as if she had tasted something sour. He was impossible. Absolutely impossible! She had tried everything she could think of and still he refused to give in. It was like arguing with an oak tree.
"It would be so much easier if your mother were still with us," murmured Gregory, sighing as he poked at the fire with a stick. Sometimes he simply didn’t know how to deal with his daughter.
Kaylie dropped the grimace from her face. "You miss her a lot, don't you?"
"Yes," he answered in a quiet, sad voice. "Yes, I do."
Kaylie looked at her father thoughtfully, weighing whether or not she should tell him what was on her mind. She decided that she might as well. He was already irritated with her so she
didn’t have much to lose.
"You shouldn't be alone, father. Mother has been gone a long time. I don't think she'd mind if you found someone else."
Gregory sat up, too surprised to know what to say. Thinking of nothing else, he replied in a huff, "I'm too old."
"You and I both know that's a lie," said Kaylie. "I know there are several women who are quite interested in getting to know you better. In fact, there's one who is more than just interested."
"Oh, really." Gregory leaned back against the log and crossed his arms, expecting his daughter to turn this conversation into a joke. "And just who might that be?"
"Sarelle Makarin."
"Sarelle," sputtered Gregory, sitting forward, his eyes wild for an instant.
"Yes, Sarelle Makarin. It is quite obvious by the way she looks at you that she's interested in much more than just the trade between our two kingdoms." Kaylie stretched her legs out, her self-satisfied grin spreading across her entire face. "Much more."
"But, she's—"
"Quite beautiful. Don't you agree? And very intelligent. She's also quite patient, which is an absolute necessity when it comes to you, father. You know, you can be quite difficult at times."
"Can I?" asked Gregory, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Kaylie failed to notice. "Yes, you can. And despite that she is quite taken with you."
"And just how do you know that?" The certainty in his daughter's voice frightened him. His worries from earlier in the day returned tenfold.
Kaylie smirked. "Oh, come now, father. Any woman could see it. Even you should by now. She sent you how many invitations to visit Benewyn? And when you finally said you couldn't, what did she do? She invited herself to Fal Carrach. Father, I'm quite disappointed in you. You really should have figured this out on your own."
