After sending Herbert away to make sure that the guest rooms were ready, Lord Hanson introduced his family.
“My dear wife, Anna. My sons, Edgar and Richard and last of all my daughter Ella.”
Edward greeted each in turn. Anna, probably in her mid to late thirties like her husband was still an attractive woman, although seemingly quite shy; something Edward thought was the exact opposite of her husband. Edgar, the eldest of the two boys, was just a younger version of his father, both in looks and his mannerisms. Richard who was a year younger than his brother, at fourteen years of age, was very much like his mother and greeted Edward with much less enthusiasm and exuberance. Lastly, Ella, who was clearly much younger and a later addition to the family, and clearly had fewer scruples or worries about protocol than the rest of her siblings.
Edward could not help but laugh when Ella explained she was just eight years old, speaking just when her father was about to do likewise. Furthermore, she also caused Lord Hanson some embarrassment when she brought up the subject of Edward and his father being commoners.
“I am so sorry,” Lord Hanson said as he gave the young girl a stern look that suggested she shouldn’t have mentioned such a thing. However, sensing she might be in trouble Edward dismissed the comment by actually answering the question.
“Yes, I used to live in an inn with my father. However, the king made me a noble…like you and your family.
Ella looked pensively at Edward tilting her head to one side before causing her eldest brother the same embarrassment.
“Edgar says you can’t be a noble unless you are born one and that the king was foolish for making you think otherwise.
“Ella!” Lady Hanson said in a short but sharp manner, showing a side to her that Edward didn’t think was there.
“It’s okay. I know not everybody agrees with the King making me a nobleman, but hey, here I am.”
“I am so sorry,” Lord Hanson added once more, glaring at both his son and daughter.
Edward waved a nonchalant hand, “No need to be,” Edward added again not taking offence to the remarks despite his host’s concerns.
To his credit, Edgar, the eldest of the Hanson children did apologise for having told his sister such a thing, although he did explain that she had taken it slightly out of context. “I actually told her that is what some people were saying back at the palace when it was announced.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Lord Hanson said firmly, looking anything but pleased with his family. “Come on, please take a seat by the fire. Would you and your father care for a drink? Brandy or wine perhaps?” He asked diverting his focus back on his guests.
Edward gave a smile, “I’d love a brandy, please…Father?”
“Oh…uhm, yes. The same for me please, thank you… My Lord,” Stanley added in reply, unsure as to how he should be referring to their host. While he was familiar with the nobility and good friends with Lord and Lady Oakley of Scarwood, this was very different. Ordinarily, he was the one in his own home, and they were the guests, with roles reversed Stanley certainly felt much less comfortable.
With drinks and light refreshments over, Edward and his father were shown to their rooms. This was something else that surprised Stanley. Not only were the rooms unlike anything he had ever seen before, but they got one each. With a bed large enough to sleep three people, soft carpeting and furniture of the highest quality, he wasn’t sure he should touch any of it for fear of dirtying or damaging it. On the highly polished table in his room, there was a glass decanter with what he assumed to be brandy, and after battling with his conscience as to whether he should help himself to a drink, he eventually poured just a little into one of the delicate looking glasses positioned beside it.
After helping himself to a couple more small glasses of brandy, Stanley was relieved when Edward called around to check he was okay and to tell him to get scrubbed-up for dinner. Unsure as to why people needed to spruce themselves up just to eat a meal, Stanley did as was asked. When done, the pair then chatted while they waited for the call to dinner. Edward thought it best to run his father through some of the etiquettes, and a few of the unfamiliar protocols followed by the nobility during such an occasion. Stanley nodded several times, listening intently not wanting to cause any embarrassment to his son.
“They certainly have a lot of rules just for sitting down and eating a meal,” he eventually gasped, quite sure he was going to mess things up.
“I agree, but that’s the way they do things. Trust me, it was all completely weird to me at the start…but you kind of get the gist of it.”
Although a somewhat quiet and awkward affair, the evening meal passed by without any great incident of note. The chat was mainly concerning Edward’s role as advisor to the king, a post he had now relinquished since departing the capital. However, if Edward was not mistaken, it seemed that Lord Hanson was trying to get him to divulge information. Had the nobleman had some ulterior motive all along for inviting him to stay? Perhaps that was Edward's mind being a little untrusting and cynical. Besides which, Edward couldn’t really tell Lord Hanson anything more than the man already knew in respect of who was set to inherit further lands following the fall of Endallen. While Edward thought he detected a hint of disappointment, and perhaps a little suspicion that he was not telling the truth, his host left it at that, and the questions had ceased.
After a comfortable night’s sleep and a good hearty breakfast, Edward and Stanley thanked the Hanson family who had lined up on the steps outside to see them off. Although offering the same hospitality should the family ever travel further south and need somewhere to stay in Nackleton, Edward doubted the gesture would ever be taken. Although the family had been completely honest and accepting of both him and his father, Edward couldn’t help but sense a little contempt from them. As to whether that was actually the case, he could not be certain, but he was convinced that the fact he was not nobly born was definitely something the Hanson’s, or at least some of them, felt uneasy with.
As they set out on their final leg of the journey to their new home, Edward felt a surge of nervousness surge through him. Although he apparently already had people in place in Nackleton to keep things running until he arrived, once he was there, all the decisions would be down to him. Exchanging letters and sending notes back and forth from the palace had been much easier, perhaps because there had always been others on hand to assist. Now it would be just him, dealing with the situation face to face. Having seen the pressure Luca had been put under, Edward had accepted in his own mind that perhaps the life of certain royals and nobles was not as easy as he had originally thought. Aside from the luxurious lifestyle, which he had to admit was something he had taken a like too, there was a downside. Having witnessed first hand some of the decisions he would need to make, Edward had already accepted that he would inevitably make mistakes; he just hoped they were not big ones.
With a chilly wind blowing in their faces, the ride south was not a particularly pleasant one. To make matters worse there was rain in the air, and it wasn’t long before Edward could feel the damp soaking through his clothes. Despite trying to wrap his cloak around a little tighter, the rain seemed to get through, but with so much more on his mind, feeling cold and wet was not particularly high on his list of problems. Having been given some gold by Luca and assured there was more still in Nackleton, all proceeds taken from Lord Merrington, he wasn’t sure how long it would last. While taxing the people was a given, as a noble to the king, he would be expected to send a large percentage of that to the crown treasury. While he had tried to ask as many questions as possible in how the other nobles made their money, it seemed some were not willing to divulge how they did it. Others, such as Lord Oakley, had explained some of the things that his family did to boost their coffers, and these were things that Edward had to consider. Apparently, as a noble, Edward had inherited large areas of land, all of which was farmed, whether that was with crops or just put to pasture, he could n
ot yet be sure. However, this was apparently one way that he could make money, although in truth he didn’t know much about farming either.
With so much on his mind, Edward hadn’t even realised the point when he had crossed over into his own lands. The border, marked by the edge of a densely wooded area and split down the middle by the track on which they travelled was the point at which Edward’s land and his neighbouring nobleman were joined. Only when he spotted the first of the farmsteads did he comprehend what he had missed. Off in the distance was a much larger settlement, still some miles off, and despite the gloomy weather quite visible.
“I think that’s Nackleton,” he said aloud turning his head slightly to his father who was sitting on his wagon travelling just behind him. One of the soldiers now in his service confirmed that it was, and also pointed out several other places of note for him to look at. Another couple of villages to their left and one to their right, all of which fell under Edward’s domain would all need visiting at some point, and even another town, although smaller than Nackleton. There were apparently dozens of smaller farming communities such as the one they had just passed, all varying in size from just a few small dwellings to much larger farms that had grown into hamlets and villages of their own.
With his focus now on the larger of the settlements, Edward could feel his heart racing that little bit quicker. Unsure of how, or even if, the people would accept him he trotted forward along the widening track. Although not yet winter Edward knew that even these would need repairing sooner rather than later, as he heard his father cursing from behind as the wagon hit yet another of the many ruts.
“I suppose that’ll be my job as well,” he mumbled to himself, adding it to the ever-growing list he was making in his mind.
After dipping down slightly as the track followed the natural curves of the land, he emerged at the top of the incline and Nackleton was there in its full glory just ahead of him. Surrounded by a wall, albeit only a short one, he was actually quite surprised it had one at all. Probably offering the town no more than a modicum of security he thought it looked in reasonable condition considering it had probably been in place since the town’s conception. Maintenance of the wall was added to his list, and as he neared the gates, he spotted two guards on duty. Neither of the two appeared overly bothered he was approaching and seemed more interested in warming their hands over a small brazier than actually enquiring who he was. The gates were open, and if he wished to do so, he could probably just stroll in without so much as the simplest of checks.
Edward pulled his horse to a halt and raised his hand to signal to those behind him to do likewise. Looking over towards the two guards he eventually caught the eye of one of them and waved for him to come over. The guard looked none too pleased with having to move but after some encouragement from his colleague did so.
“What is it?” the man said in a tone that suggested he was somewhat disgruntled.
“My Lord,” Edward replied.
The guard looked somewhat confused by the reply, but before he could say anything else, Edward spoke again.
“It’s ‘What is it, My Lord?’ when addressing me.”
The guard looked a little vacant for a moment or two before the penny eventually dropped.
“Lord Smyth?” the man asked looking somewhat worried.
Edward gave a wry smile, “The very same,” he added.
“Sorry, My Lord,” The guard replied bowing his head several times as if doing so made up for his misdemeanours. “We were not expecting you for some time yet.”
Edward thought about reprimanding both men, but giving them the benefit of the doubt he decided against it. After all, it was cold and wet, and standing guard for several hours was probably not the most glamorous of jobs.
“Just keep a note of who comes and goes,” he said trying to add an authoritative manner to his voice as he spoke.
“Right you are, My Lord,” The guard replied bowing his head once more before backing away from Edward’s horse.
Thinking he had handled the situation well, Edward felt some small degree of self-satisfaction. He thought that perhaps the people might feel better at relating to him, as he had come from the lower echelons of society. Only time would tell, but with a tingle in his tummy, he nudged his horse forward and ventured in through the gates to his new home.
Chapter 24.New Home.
The first thing that Edward noticed about Nackleton was just how compact everything looked. It appeared as if every space had a building of sorts squeezed into it, although, thankfully, the main thoroughfare was of reasonable width. Unlike the capital, the main street here was merely hardened earth, and there was not a single sign of a cobbled street as he manoeuvred his way along the road. He spotted several shops and businesses, all seemingly looking quite busy, which he thought was a good sign, but then he spotted several more that had closed down and appeared empty. Perhaps business had been tough, and the owners forced to shut and move away, this, he decided, was something that needed rectifying and added it to his list of things to do.
Edward shouldn’t have been surprised to see the place he would now be calling home was much larger and grander than anything else in the town. Surrounded by its own wall and with guards at the gate, he pulled his horse to a stop. The guards here appeared more alert, and as the gates were closed, they wanted to know who he was and what business he had doing there. The men on duty spotted the guards travelling with Edward and noticed they were donning the colours of the crown.
“You from Miranor?” one of the men asked walking slowly around Stanley’s cart and discreetly peering inside.
“What are you bringing us now?” The man added lifting up the tarp that was keeping Stanley’s possessions dry.
Noticing the guard never even looked Frederick Elthan’s direction despite the fact he was quite visible, he watched with interest.
Edward thought about revealing his identity but was interested to see what the men were up to. Spotting his father was about to say something he quickly shook his head to tell him not to.
“Are you going to let us in?” Edward enquired keeping a watchful eye on the three men on duty.
“Sorry, can’t do that. His Lordship has left strict instructions that no one is to be permitted entry.”
Edward took a sharp intake of breath, shocked by the announcement. “His Lordship?”
“Aye, Edin Ronson, the bloke they sent here to oversee the running of the place until some new lord arrives.”
Edward found it difficult to bite his tongue and not say anything, but steadied his breathing before replying.
“And this man, Edin, who is currently running Nackleton is a lord?”
The guard shrugged his shoulders, “Dunno. He asks we refer to him as such, and being as he pays my wages who am I to argue?”
A second guard came over and decided he also wanted to look inside Stanley’s cart and being as Edward could see his father was getting annoyed, he thought it best to end this charade.
“Open the gates and let us in then. Tell this man, Edin Ronson, I wish to see him now!” Edward said firmly.
“Not going to happen…I just told you his Lordship isn’t taking visitors. Now be a good little boy and take your junk wagon somewhere else…”
Edward turned to his soldiers behind him, “Arrest this man, and have him charged!” he said.
“Who…What?” the guard shouted as two of Edwards men grabbed an arm each and hauled him to the ground.
The other two men on duty both took a few moments to react, but both went to draw their swords.
“I would think carefully before doing that,” Edward said, remaining calm, although he now had his hand over the hilt of his own weapon just in case things got out of hand.
“I am Lord Edward Smyth of Nackleton. Now, you can either do as you are told or join your friend here in a prison cell.”
The two men looked at each other, and although nothing was said, it was clear they had come to some agr
eement as both let the blades of their swords slip back into the hilts.
“Wise move!” Edward said. “Now open the gates and fetch this Edin Ronson outside. I want a few words with him!”
The two remaining guards did not hang around and quickly opened the gates and hurried across the yard towards the main entrance of the house. Edward watched for a few moments before the men disappeared through the large black painted double doors, before turning his attention to the third guard whom he had placed under arrest.
“If I let you go, do you promise to do your job properly?”
The man nodded profusely. “Of course, My Lord. I beg you please, I was just doing as I was ordered.”
Edward supposed that was true, well at least in some part. “Perhaps in future, you should check who it is you are talking to. Being as you seemed so interested in the contents of my father’s wagon, you can help him unload it. Now open these gates fully so we can get in.”
The guard did not argue and hurriedly opened both of the wrought iron gates to allow the horses and wagons to pass through with ease. Edward glanced down as he realised the yard was cobbled, and over to one side were two other buildings.
“What are they?” he asked.
“That one is the stable block, and the other is the guard house, My Lord.”
To the other side, there was a pathway that appeared to run around the side of the house and presumably to the rear garden area. There were a few large stone planters, although bereft of any flowers now, Edward could already picture them in full bloom, adding bursts of colour to what would be a very drab looking part of the house.
No sooner had Edward slipped down from his horse and straightened himself out when he heard a commotion at the front door just twenty paces ahead of him. The two guards he had sent indoors were dragging another man out of the door and across the yard towards him.
The Battle for Endallen Page 21
