by A L Wright
“Good. Friesa that was quick thinking, good change of strategy to throw your opponent off. My Princess, this could be a death strike on the battle field. Be glad she would be fighting next to you and not against you. You can relax now.”
He watched the girls come out of their stances and sheath their weapons. Friesa rolled her neck to stretch her muscles and waited next to Nikka for instructions.
“I believe you two are done with combat training in the yard. We will start training you in different elements next week. In the dark, in the woods, there's even an old cave with some tunnels out in the forest about a mile. Until then we'll take the next few days off training. The rest of the supplies for the smithy will be coming in tomorrow night. You are dismissed.”
He watched as the two girls instantly started chatting with each other as they walked away from the training circle. The lonely feeling he had been having lately crept back in on him. He felt as if he was losing her to Friesa, bit by bit, more and more each night.
The girl offered his Princess more companionship than he could. Victor knew that. But he was almost miserable thinking about all the small moments they used to have together, and how few and far between they were now.
“Old friend, I've seen that look upon your face much too often as of late,” Dartein stated as he came up from behind to stand next to him.
“I am not sure what you speak of, my Prince.”
“Oh Victor, I've asked you not to call me that, and that only proves to me how distracted your mind is. You do know my daughter is quite beyond the age where she could choose a partner.”
“It had occurred to me. Which is why we practice often. I need to keep her safe. I was entrusted with her safety, both of yours.” Victor sighed. He hated to bring up anything about the past, about why they were there and no longer under the Patriarch's protection.
Dartein's hand fell upon his shoulder. “Victor, I know there is no better protector for her than you. You have always protected her physically. I trust you could protect her heart as well.”
Victor looked over at his friend in surprise, his Prince. He saw there the burden of a man who had loved too hard and lost it all. Even with his daughter at his side, he was incomplete. Victor knew the feeling of loss. He had loved, too. Though he had come to love the Princess as much as he had loved her mother. More-so, really. That past love had been a forbidden thing, never acted upon, as she had been his now best friend's wife. But he had never quite gotten over her, had never forgotten her.
But the daughter, his Nikkola, his Princess that he had been honored to place a name upon. She was here, and she made him happy every day. But duty and honor held him back from her.
“I do not know that she sees me that way. I am old, Dartein. I am spoiled by my age and all that I have seen and done over the centuries. She is fresh and new and everything good about life. I cannot be the one to ruin her.”
Dartein sighed as he slipped his hand off Victor’s shoulder. “I do not believe anything can ruin her. She is made of tougher stuff than you or I. I think she would be the one to save you from yourself,” Dartein said as he turned and walked away, back to the keep.
Leaving Victor alone with his old thoughts of the past, and fresh thoughts of the present.
Chapter 8
Dartein watched over the next week as his daughter and her new friend became very close. They went almost everywhere together. But they did not let that get in the way of their work. Nikka would bring out the horses one by one from the stalls over to the open room of the smithy and brush and groom them while Friesa worked on the bits and buckles they currently needed.
And at other times Friesa would bring her work with her to the stables and polish her finished pieces while Nikka mucked out the stalls.
Friesa was getting along well in the dark, he observed. He saw that Tynen would steal small moments of her time, seemingly for small chatter. Dartein knew better, though, he knew the man was quite taken with the girl. His intentions seemed pure enough, though, as he never acted upon them and never kept her attention away from her work for more than a few moments at a time.
Yes, Dartein was quite impressed with the girl. He would have hated to send her back to the village now. As it was there had been no word around anywhere from her family, not even in the village itself. It seemed she did not have a home to return to, even if they were to send her back.
So, it seemed their situation had become mutually beneficial, even if she did not know the full reasons why. He had never told her that her family had not looked for her. She had found a new home, and his daughter was happy and free for once in her life.
Dartein wasn't sure he could say the same about Victor. Watching his old friend despair over Nikka being drawn away from him was difficult. He knew Nikka had a spot in her heart for the guard, even if Victor refused to see it. He was too good of a man that way sometimes.
He knew of Victor's love for his dead wife. Josaleene had been a treasure. Victor had loved her in secret, vowing to keep her safe even if he could never have her. Victor's loyalty to his Prince was too great of a thing, his honor would have never let him act wrongfully towards him.
But it had still ripped Victor's heart in two, along with his own, when she died. All the worse for them, being completely helpless and unable to save her. They had both left the Patriarch's Palace that night, unable to be around the fake sympathies of the Court.
Only his Father had understood. Or at least he hoped he had. Dartein never spoke with him before he left, nineteen years ago.
Coming out of his reverie he spied tall, lean Clyd walking towards him across the courtyard to where he stood in the main doorway of the keep.
“Sir.” Clyd bowed when he stopped. “We came across a host of goblins earlier in the night. We were able to dispatch them quickly, but as we scouted past that area we saw several other of the buggers’ camps. Each camp 'ad about twenty apiece, close to a 'undred of the bastards in all. We would have attempted to take them out but I only 'ad a dozen rangers with me.”
Dartein nodded his head as he listened. They were getting closer. Not necessarily to the keep, as he believed they did not know it was Nobles living here. But the goblins were getting closer to the villages, in larger numbers.
“Sir,” Clyd was saying “It may be time to start recruiting men from the village close by.”
“If only we could turn them. We need warriors and rangers, not village men with pitchforks and clubs. Nevertheless, it is something to think upon. I trust you and Tynen to clean up as many of those goblins you can. I will try to come up with another plan to help us bolster our numbers.”
“Sir.” Clyd bowed again and walked away. Leaving him to his thoughts again.
Chapter 9
Nikka was walking back towards the keep with Friesa when she saw her Father standing in the doorway.
“He looks broody,” she said to Friesa.
“He always looks broody to me.” Her friend replied.
It was true, her father did look very dark and moody quite often lately. Tonight was more so. There was something on his mind.
“Father,” she called as they approached. “Is everything all right?”
“Well, no. There have been large numbers of goblins spied in the woods tonight. We just don't have forces large enough to take them head on. Clyd will be doing what he can to take them out quietly, but it will be a long-drawn-out task. We need more men, this is all coming down on us much quicker than I expected.”
Her father stared past them at the wall that surrounded the keep. She knew he was looking beyond there though. Trying to find answers.
“Can we not recruit from the Village?” Nikka asked.
“To be honest, I want to keep the humans out of this as much as possible. In the last Great War humans were almost wiped out. They were not strong enough to stand against the enemy. No. We need more Nobles. We need to be able to turn more humans into Nobles.”
“Well I am sure there be folks
who would volunteer for that,” Friesa spoke up. “I would do it maself if I could, if it meant helpin' ta fight.”
Friesa looked over at her meaningfully, and took Nikka's hand. Squeezing it, Nikka smiled at her. Nikka knew who her friend was thinking of being turned with.
“I know you would. Problem is, we do not have a Chamber of our own. We would have to seek help from The Patriarch for that.” Nikka frowned. “Though I've never traveled there, I am unsure of how far away he is.”
Her Father grimaced. “You may be right, we may need to consult him.”
“Wait now, you would seek out the Patriarch?” Friesa asked, wide eyed.
“He is the leader of the Nobles, though we don't really follow him. He is also my grandfather, but I have never met him.”
Friesa looked over at her in awe. “So ye really are Princess of the Nobles!”
“Yes, but we try not to let titles get in the way of what we do here,” Dartein added quickly. “We need to concentrate on the fight, and it is coming sooner than we expected. I will need to send a message to my father and ask him for help.”
Dartein turned and walked into the Keep, to the right side of the main hall. He had a desk and chairs there, with parchment and pens.
Nikka pulled Friesa by the hand along with her, following her father in.
“Who will you have carry the letter, Father?”
“I will send it with Tynen. He will be there and back quickly, as he knows the way.”
Nikka led Friesa back outside.
“What if we went with Tynen?” Nikka asked Friesa.
“Why, what would that accomplish?”
“Maybe we could talk my grandfather into letting us use the Slumber Chamber.” Nikka quieted after she said that, seeing Victor walk out of the Keep and turn towards them.
“Ladies. How are you this evening?” Thankfully he did not say anything about the Slumber Chamber, even though Nikka knew he had heard.
Nikka held up their clasped hands in an innocent gesture. “Just taking a friendly stroll, spending some time with a good friend.” She winked at Victor, playing around.
She was startled when she saw Victor's eyes widen at the sight of them holding hands.
“Well then excuse me, I need to be on my way.” He hurried off, leaving a very confused Nikka behind.
What had scared him off, she wondered?
Chapter 10
Yosan and Hudreia reached the village of the Patriarch in the middle of a very dark night. What little there was of the moon was hidden behind clouds with no breeze to move them away.
It had taken much longer than they wanted to find the right village, as they had expected him to be ruling over the largest of the country villages. This one was rather mediocre in size, but very populous, and obviously much wealthier than all the other villages they had visited.
They did not need directions to the Patriarch's Palace, as they could plainly see it rising above the village.
“He has done well for himself,” Yosan muttered. “Here he has sat being worshiped like a king, and we ran the countryside for the last millennia hunting and killing goblins. “
“Mortul has helped the countryside to prosper, as that was his aim when we left. He has done well for the people as well as himself,” Hudreia interjected.
They soon saw just how well their old friend had done for himself when they came through the open gates into the courtyard of the palace. The yard was very large, to accommodate high amounts of traffic. The out buildings were in good repair. The palace itself was built sturdily out of very large cuts of stone.
The Palace was two levels above ground, with two towers that added another level. As they stood there and looked the place over, a guard approached the pair.
Recognizing them as Nobles, the guard bowed slightly after he stopped in front of them. “Greetings. Do you have business within the Palace?” The guard asked them.
“Yes. We are old friends of Mortul's, err, the Patriarch's. Could you please show us to him?” Yosan asked.
The guard was taken aback. No one ever asked to speak with the Patriarch directly and no one ever used his name. Important matters were usually brought to the Council and then escalated to the Patriarch as needed.
“I can escort you into the Main Hall, where you will need to wait for me to announce your presence to The Patriarch. Follow me, it will be a few moments before I return.”
The guard ushered them into the Main Hall, gestured to them to wait, and hurried off up a set of stairs.
Hudreia looked around at the black marble benches along the wall.
“We may as well sit, Yosan. The guard said it would be a bit.”
Yosan humphed as he sat down next to her. She knew he was perturbed at Mortul's show of wealth in his home. But it had been their choice to run the countryside, making temporary homes as they went. She also knew Yosan held little regard for Lords who flaunted their wealth and power. He had lost his human wife to a wealthy Lord, a Duke, who thought himself above the law. The same Duke who had abandoned their cause and their war. The man had been self-serving and cared only for his own survival.
Yosan had sent his wife and son to live at the Duke's Keep, away from the battlefields. He had not wanted them near the war at all.
He also had not wanted them there to witness his Change into a dark one.
While they were off fighting for the very existence of mankind, the pretentious Duke was availing himself of the women who had sought protection in his keep. He demanded their attentions, or he would threaten to send them back to the front lines of the war where they lived before.
The Dukes favorite lady was Yosan's wife. Yosan did not find out about her treatment until after the war ended and he had ridden to the Duke's keep to gather her and their son.
He had come to the keep to find his wife beaten and dying, misused and filthy in a dark room with only a small mattress for furniture. He had raged throughout the keep until he found the Duke and flung him out a window to his death in the courtyard below.
He promised to punish all those who were involved in his wife's mistreatment, and every single person fled from the keep out of fear.
His wife died a few weeks later, unable to recover from her ordeal. He grieved for her for months, barely able to care for his son. The boy was only six years of age, and was frightened of the thing his father had become. Yosan found a family in a close by village who had lost their children in the war and left the boy in their care.
After that, he and Hudreia fled into the countryside, feral from blood-lust and hungry for another fight.
Hudreia had helped to mend his broken heart some. She knew she could never claim it though. Yosan's love for his wife was still strong. But she had never needed heartfelt love, and was content with having him as a companion and a lover. She had seen too well how emotions could make you weak.
She looked up to see the guard approaching them with a look of curiosity stamped on his face.
“If you will follow me, the Master has requested an audience with you in his Library.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Running his hands through his hair, Mortul waited for the unexpected visitors to come in to the Library. He had also sent another guard to fetch Kurmeina to join them, her discovery of his granddaughter's bloodlines in the front of his mind.
Just as he was about to pour another glass of liquor a knock sounded at the door. Waving at the guard standing next to the door to let whoever it was in, he turned back to the table and finished pouring his drink.
Kurmeina hurried in through the door, packing the large book of lineages with her.
“Sir, I ran here quickly. Whatever can be so important? Oh, you are drinking, that is not a bad sign I hope?”
The corner of his normally serious face lifted in a fraction of a smile. He had no idea his frustrations were so easily noticed by certain court members. Of course, Kurmeina was closest to him, but still... he should be more careful.
Setting the
glass back down, he turned toward her. “Not a bad sign, just something quite unprecedented. We are to be receiving guests here shortly. It seems that Yosan and Hudreia have come back to our corner of the countryside.”
“That... that is incredible! How very well timed that Yosan would come now, after discovering that you and he share a blood relative.” Kurmeina sat down in one of the many overstuffed chairs in the room, cradling the book in her lap.
Just then another knock came at the door, causing her to jump back up. The guard again opened the door after Mortul signaled him. In walked two ghosts from his past.
Hudreia entered first taking in the library and Yosan followed her. Both walked in practiced silence, and dressed in their long cloaks they seemed to float along the ground. After her quick examination of the room Hudreia turned her attention to him.
Waving the guard out of the room, Mortul walked over and shut the door himself ensuring the privacy barriers were in place. He turned back to his guests.
“Welcome to the Palace of the Nobles. It has been many a long year since I have seen you both.”
Hudreia walked over and took his hand. “It is good to see you again after so long, Mortul. You have done so much to repair these lands and make them thrive.”
Mortul raised her hand and kissed her knuckles quickly before letting go. “I have merely laid the groundwork. The humans are resilient and rebuilt quickly. It was tricky at first. I had good help though,” he said, indicating Kurmeina standing nearby.
“My lady. I am glad to see my old friend does not go it alone,” Yosan said, bowing his head towards Kurmeina.
Kurmeina laughed. “Oh, dear. No, I am merely a scholar, a council member, and an old friend. I was never the object of his affection.” She was smiling until she saw the sad look that must have been playing on his face. “But pardon my manners. I am Kurmeina. I was scholar and teacher when we began rebuilding the villages. Now I am a History Keeper for both the humans and the Nobles.”
