“What are we fleeing from?” Lehrling asked.
“A spirit. Possibly Bausch’s.”
“Bausch would hold no ill will toward us.”
“Perhaps not,” Shawndirea replied, “but the ghost might be of anyone that has died in these forests. Being so close to Glacier Ridge, I’m certain there are dozens of spiteful spirits lying in wait.”
“You are probably correct, faery.”
After an hour of following the path through the forest with the eyes of the dead watching them, darkness crept over them as the dusk settled in. The massive warhorses backed their ears and their eyes widened from apparent fear, which made Lehrling and Roble more alert to what waited along the edges of the forest roads.
Shawndirea had warned of a Banshee she had seen and heard, which made Lehrling apprehensive. Rumors of the surrounding forest being haunted were probably not an exaggeration, but he didn’t wish to find out firsthand. The quicker they reached Glacier Ridge, the better.
The narrow road turned and descended. Lehrling was thankful when the glow of the fire pits that lined the streets of Glacier Ridge became visible. He only hoped that no other Vykings were awaiting them. Since Lehrling and Roble rode Vyking warhorses, any encountered Vykings would kill them without question, especially since they also possessed the Prince’s sword and his companions’ weapons as well. Although it was a thief’s sanctuary, Vykings weren’t tolerant. They’d get vengeance.
“When we get midway into the town, the stables are to the right.”
Shawndirea stood on Roble’s shoulder and leaned close to his ear. “Don’t be quick to trust anyone in this place. It is a den of thieves and murderers.”
“And you expect to make a fair trade with these horses here?” Roble glanced at Lehrling.
He shrugged. “We may not get the better deal, but we should be able to make a trade.” He glanced at Shawndirea. “It’s best that you hide yourself while you’re here in Glacier Ridge.”
Roble frowned. “Why?”
“She’s worth a horse’s weight in gold to a thief.”
Roble glanced at Shawndirea. “Is this true?”
“It is.”
“Why would someone want to steal a faery?”
“Many reasons,” she replied. “But none are good ones.”
Shawndirea slid into Roble’s vest pocket while they rode to the stables.
“This place looks deserted.”
“That’s the deception of a town where thieves gather. But know that at every moment from every corner, we’re being watched. Nothing done here is ever secret. All you can hope is no one has seen Shawndirea. Always be on guard.”
“I will.”
After Lehrling and Roble left the horses at the stables, Riese escorted them down the cobblestone streets into a cavern where Hobskin Tavern was hidden and insulated somewhat from the harsh bitter winter winds.
Lehrling took a deep breath, smelled the lingering scent of boiling soup in the drifting chimney smoke, and then he coughed. Still no pain, yet. He wasn’t sure how long the potion’s effect would last, but he hoped he found a medic that could help him with his ailment before they headed for the next town.
Little did he understand that some things got a lot worse before they eventually got better.
Chapter Forty-six
Sarey shut the bathhouse door after Dawn had entered. Sarey took a board and positioned it against the door to prevent anyone from entering until after Dawn had bathed and Sarey changed the bandage. She could have taken Dawn to the woman’s bathhouse, but that would have raised even more questions than Sarey accompanying a young squire to this one.
“The others should keep practicing their fencing and training for another hour, at least,” Sarey said. “The best of our hamlet that train, do so mainly to prevent themselves from having to labor the fields of wheat and oats.”
“And the elders of Esgrove allow that?” Dawn asked, walking to the edge of the nearest tub.
“Of course. Once a year one of your . . . generals comes and recruits our best ten fighters to serve as squires for Hoffnung knights. You didn’t know?”
Dawn shook her head. “I suppose that is an honor?”
“Yes.” Sarey nodded. “It is also more than that.”
“How so?”
“The families who have a son chosen also receive more gold than they can earn in two years of good harvests. Because well-trained squires eventually become great knights to be given titles and land.”
“I can see why they are as serious as they are in the pits now, especially the one that tried to plow me into the ground.” Dawn started pulling her shirt over her head and stopped. Warm pain radiated in the tight center of her back, making her wince.
“You okay?” Sarey asked.
“The center of my back is still very tender. The skin feels very tight and itches.”
Sarey rushed to her. “Here, let me help you.”
Dawn lowered her arms and held them out to her sides.
Sarey pulled one sleeve tightly but gently, allowing Dawn to ease her arm out, and then she did the same with the other sleeve. After her arms were freed, Sarey pulled the shirt over Dawn’s head.
Sarey stepped behind Dawn and untied the edge of the long strap of cloth that bound Dawn’s breasts.
“Did you learn anything by watching the young men duel?”
Dawn nodded. “I did. I just wish I could have participated.”
Sarey smiled. “I like your competitive spirit.”
“I want to learn how to use a sword and shield effectively.”
“Give it time.” Sarey unraveled the last of the long cloth.
“I don’t feel like I have that kind of time to wait. Until I announce to Caen and the kingdoms of Aetheaon who I really am, I remain his squire. It is my duty to protect him.”
“True. But if you told him who you are, it is our duty to protect you.”
Dawn shook her head. “The time isn’t right. We risk too much if Waxxon discovers I’m still alive.”
“And why would he think you’re dead?”
“When the city fell under siege, the guards were already looking for me. My hope is that he believes I’m one of the causalities after the guards failed to find me.”
Sarey allowed the binding cloth to unravel and fall around Dawn’s feet. “The wound is healing nicely, and much quicker than I expected.”
Dawn cupped her breasts. Her cheeks tinted a modest red. “It still feels tight in the center.”
“The scab’s pulling is all. That’s part of the healing process. The good news is that there isn’t any infection.”
“How much longer, do you think?”
Sarey shrugged. “A couple more days and you should have more ability to move around without worrying about ripping it open again. The healing salve is working and should ease the itching. I’m amazed at how quickly the ointment is working. It’s fast but never quite like this.”
“My mother was half elf. We tend to heal quicker.”
“I see. Soak in the hot water for a while, and I’ll put more salve on it.”
Dawn eased into the steamy water. She sighed as the warmth soaked into her.
“Your knight displayed himself nobly against Kaleb today. Don’t you think?”
Dawn nodded. “He did and much to the crowd’s pleasing.”
“Yes. And what do you think of Kaleb and Eegrubb’s request to train with us?”
Dawn’s jaw tightened. “I’m not comfortable with those brothers.”
“Why not?”
“I believe they’re hiding something. They’re not being totally honest.”
“About what?”
“There has to be more to their being ostracized from Oculoth. Their reasons are not valid for a king to strip them of their knighthood.”
Sarey sat on the edge of the tub with a curious frown on her face. “What is your thinking?”
“I’m not certain. But there’s more to why they were sent out of
Oculoth. Treason. Betrayal. Fleeing from battle? I don’t know, but I wouldn’t place much trust in them, Sarey. I never trusted Waxxon and see what he has done to my kingdom?”
“You hold the same toward the brothers?”
“I do.”
“I’ll keep an eye on them, then.”
Dawn closed her eyes and leaned back in the tub, allowing the water to rise to her chin. While not as luxurious as the tubs in her palace, the heated baths were probably extravagant to the peasants.
“Oh, I brought you something,” Sarey said, rising quickly. Excitement rang in her voice.
Dawn opened her eyes and watched Sarey grab her leather shoulder pack. After a moment of reaching into the bag, she hurried back to the tub and took the cheesecloth off of the jar. A dark lump floated in the liquid amber.
“Is that honeycomb?” Dawn asked with a growing smile.
“Yes. Fresh from my father’s hive this morning.”
Dawn reached her fingers through the wide mouth of the jar and grabbed the sticky honeycomb. The thick honey slathered down, dripping off the comb. Dawn quickly cupped her free hand underneath to catch the strands of golden honey. She bit into the soft honeycomb and closed her eyes as the sweetness coated her tongue.
“How is it?”
“Divine,” Dawn replied.
“Although we live modestly in Esgrove,” Sarey said, “we do have little treasures of our own.”
While chewing the comb, she ignored her princess manners and spoke with a full mouth. The sticky honey made her smack out the words. “This is better than what our royal hives produce.”
“Our bees have access to the magical flowers of the ivy covered forests.”
Dawn licked the extra honey from her fingers. “Thanks again. That was definitely an unexpected treat.”
“Worthy of a princess.”
Dawn grinned. “More worthy of the gods and goddesses and not mere mortals.”
Dawn liked talking to Sarey. Even though Dawn was pretending to be a squire, this time alone with her was like having a sister to share her private thoughts with. As an only child, raised inside the palace, she seldom had anyone to talk to, other than Nessa and her dolls.
Sarey handed a fresh cloth to Dawn. Her smile faded and her mind seemed to shift in a different line of thought.
“Is something wrong?” Dawn asked. “You won’t get into trouble for giving me the honey, will you?”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
“Caen seems skeptical of me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“His demeanor has changed whenever he’s around me.”
“In what way?”
Sarey looked away, and nibbled at her lower lip. After several moments, she finally became bold enough to gaze into Dawn’s eyes. “When I told him that I would take you to the bathhouse and change your bandage earlier, he seemed miffed. I still think he believes I have something for you.”
“He’s jealous?”
Sarey shook her head. “Not jealous, but he doesn’t make eye contact with me like the day when you two arrived. He’s short toward me whenever he speaks.”
“You’re attracted to him?”
“What woman wouldn’t be?”
“But I thought you have feelings toward the other Dragon Knight.”
“I do.” Sarey looked down.
“Then why let this bother you?”
Sarey sighed. “I know it shouldn’t, but . . .”
“Don’t berate yourself. You’re a beautiful woman. If he really thinks you’ve taken to me,” she smiled and held back her laughter, “maybe he’s upset that you’d choose a squire over a knight. You think the rank might have something to do with it?”
Sarey shrugged. “Maybe. Do knights have to marry within a certain status?”
“None that I know of.”
“Maybe Dragon Knights are different?”
“They were chosen directly by my father when he was alive, so I don’t know if he’d place such stipulations upon them.”
The glum expression on Sarey’s face didn’t lessen. It was seldom she’d seen Sarey let down her rough exterior and act more like a lady.
“You’re a beautiful woman,” Dawn said. “I’ve seen how the other men in Esgrove look at you. Even in the fighting pit, men give lustful glances at you.”
Sarey smiled broadly and burst into a short fit of laughter. Her eyes sparkled. “Only when my back is toward them. Because of how well I use a bow, hunt, and fight, the men in Esgrove fear me. They seldom make eye contact with me, even in Pig-Sty Tavern. Bausch was different in that he didn’t fear looking into my eyes.” She glanced down at her bosom. “Of course, he didn’t exactly avoid glances at other parts of me, either.”
“Then when I find that Dragon Knight, I will mention that you’re smitten by him.”
“Oh, no,” Sarey said, shaking her head. “Please don’t phrase it like that?”
“I promise I won’t, but someone else telling him your attraction won’t hurt.”
“But, Lady Dawn, he should know how I feel. I’ve never hidden my interest from him. Maybe I was too blunt.”
“Maybe.”
Sarey folded her hands together and set them upon her lap. She still fretted. “He had seemed hungered toward me with desire, until that last visit with Lehrling.”
“The other Dragon Knight?”
She nodded. “I wonder what the old man said to him.”
Dawn rose in the tub and leaned forward. “That’s something you need to ask Bausch. Until you’re able, don’t let it distract you.”
“You’re right. Worrying about it won’t change matters.”
Dawn stood. Water dripped off her thin body in sheets, cascading onto the tub water like heavy rain pellets. “You might want to get the salve so I can get dressed before the others arrive at the bathhouse.”
“Sure.”
Sarey rose and grabbed the bottle of healing salve and returned. Dawn wrapped a rough towel around her waist and sat on the edge of the tub with her back exposed.
Sarey forced a smile and gently touched the short strands of Dawn’s hair. Sadness was in her eyes. “I had only seen you twice on the palace balcony with your long flowing locks. It’s such a shame that you had to sacrifice your glory.”
“Hair grows back, Sarey. Waxxon’s head will not.”
Sarey visibly shuddered when she gazed into the icy coldness of Dawn’s eyes and heard her heartless tone of voice. Quickly she sat behind Dawn on the edge of the tub. “Let me medicate the wound, and then I’ll help you with the bindings.”
After she applied a heavy layer of the salve, Sarey began adjusting the binding cloth. A heavy thudding struck the door.
“Hurry,” Dawn said. “Sounds like they are already here.”
Sarey took a sharp breath, and after tucking the initial first wrap securely, she wrapped the binding tightly around Dawn and helped pull her shirt over her head and shoulders.
Dawn hurried and pulled up the peasant pants, tied the leather belt tightly, and slipped on shoes, meeting Sarey at the door.
Sarey removed the board she had placed to bar the door and swung it open. Instead of the sparring lads eagerly waiting to get inside to bathe, only one person stood outside.
Caen.
He had a soured expression on his face. His lips tightened as he gazed from Dawn to Sarey and back to Dawn again. “A locked bathhouse door? I’ve journeyed to many cities and towns and never have I known such to occur. Sarey, I’d like a word with you.” Hardness set in his eyes and tightness in his jaw. He looked at Dawn. “Alone!”
Dawn swallowed hard and moved past Caen without glancing at Sarey. His volatile explosive voice made her think of Balo. She winced, worrying that the vicious tip of the whip might strike her. Several moments passed before the apprehension lessened.
Although she wanted to explain to Caen that nothing had occurred between her and Sarey, what could Dawn
say without revealing who she really was? She didn’t want to leave Sarey alone with Caen to face his fury. But for now, she was his squire and needed to continue the façade until key components were set into action and allowed her to reveal who she truly was.
When Dawn was a hundred or so feet away, she turned and looked at Sarey. The ladylike mannerism she had allowed Dawn to see had vanished. Sarey’s hardened exterior resurfaced. She faced Caen with defensiveness that showed she’d fight Caen without a second’s thought. The last thing Dawn wanted was her secret with Sarey to become a wedge between Caen and the barmaid. Dawn needed both of them, but in different ways. Sarey would keep her secret, even under the threat of death. She admired the woman’s loyalty.
Chapter Forty-seven
Sarey crossed her arms and looked into Caen’s harsh gaze. Her resolve prevented her from breaking eye contact. She didn’t like his threatening approach or that he had raised his voice to her and Dawn. She held her ground and refused to budge. He was a Dragon Knight, but that honor didn’t allow him to dictate his authority over her. He held no actual authority in Esgrove.
“What’s going on?” Caen asked.
“I have nothing I need to explain to you,” Sarey replied.
“You’ve taken a liking to my squire?”
“Not in the way you might think.”
“He’s just a boy.”
Sarey suppressed a smile. “Donne is much more than a boy.”
Caen cocked a brow. “What do you mean by that?”
Sarey sighed and finally broke their gaze. Otherwise she’d have a fit of laughter at the silliness of their conversation. “Nothing.”
“I’ve lost my patience with you, Sarey.”
Her eyes flicked to him. The urge to laugh vanished, replaced by mild agitation. “I haven’t deliberately done anything to offend you. All I’ve done is try to help Donne. Nothing more. And you make me out to be a type of villain that I simply am not. You accuse me of being something I’m not.”
“Were it not for the hospitality that your father has shown us . . .” Caen said. His thoughts shifted quickly but his anger didn’t lessen. “Believe me, I am thankful for your father’s generosity, but it’s time Donne and I leave Esgrove.”
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