A Trilogy of Knights

by Megan Derr

  Topaz smiled. "I thought you might prefer I not elaborate on certain matters in front of Bran and Montaine."

  "I would prefer you not elaborate on certain matters in front of me!" Trey snapped. "But it seems I have little choice."

  "Denial will not make it go away."

  "It has worked rather well so far," Trey replied, glaring resentfully. He broke the gaze a moment later, sighing softly and staring into the fire. "Rowan taught you to be conniving and persistent, among other things. Come to the point of your visit, Topaz; I am weary."

  "You can free Dunstan."

  Trey shook his head adamantly back and forth, flames and shadows mixing oddly in his pale hair. His grey eyes were dark shadows as he resumed glaring at Topaz. "I am no sage."

  "Only because you chose not to be."

  "Exactly. I chose not to be. I want no part of magic. I am happy as a knight."

  "You are scared of what you might be."

  Trey's reply was a bitter laugh. "Do not insult me by saying 'might,' Dragon. You know better than anyone what I 'might' be. What I am."

  "And that is why you can free Dunstan."

  "I will not go down that path," Trey said, but his voice was not as stony as it had been before.

  Topaz seemed to sense the weakness. "Not even for Dunstan? For Montaine?"

  "Damn you." Trey stormed across the room to his bed, discarding his cape and sitting down to remove his boots. "Why can you never leave well enough alone?"

  "Because I would not be much of a steward if I did not do what was necessary to serve my king and country." He smiled as Trey rolled his eyes. "That aside, it is no small matter that our northern-most border is besieged by mercenaries. You are most fit to deal with that threat."

  "Because of the magic I want no part of?"

  "You have used it." Topaz's golden eyes were penetrating. "Perhaps no one else ever realized it, but I am fully aware of what you did during Vladimir's sorry reign."

  Trey shrugged. "It was little enough."

  "You were able to get past his barrier, Trey. That is no small feat."

  "I could go no further than a couple of miles, and that only for a handful of hours. Enough to kill and steal from people who did not understand why we acted as we did!" Trey surged to his feet. "I will do my duty, dragon! Leave me in peace."

  Topaz sketched a short bow. "I did not mean to anger you, Trey."

  "Yes, you did." Trey sighed. "I know my duty, , but do not expect me to do it in good grace. No matter what, my secret had best remain between us."

  Topaz smiled faintly. "I do not forget my promises, Child of the Mist. None will ever hear your secrets from me. Sleep well."

  "And you,." Trey sighed softly as Topaz left. He dropped his good boots and tunic on the floor, falling into bed with his good breeches still on.

  "You threw your clothes on the floor!" Victor shrieked in outrage as he entered the room.

  Trey smiled into his pillow. "I guess Whisper did not bite off your feathers after all. I left the clothes for you."

  Grumbling, Victor set about putting Trey's room to rights.

  "Have my things packed, Victor. I am going to be gone for quite some time."

  "My lord?"

  "The Lord of Bellewood requires my assistance. I do not think I will require my armor, as I will be going to the sea." He looked up. "I will expect everything to be ready by third bell. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, my lord!" Victor dashed off, perhaps the only squire to ever be eager about staying up all night to pack. He paused in the doorway. "Am I going with you, my lord?"

  Trey pretended to deliberate, snickering to himself at the way Victor tried not to hop from one foot to the other. "Yes, I suppose you may."

  "Thank you, Sir Trey!" He slammed the door behind him, causing a few disgruntled shouts as he dashed off.

  Laughter fading, Trey pulled his blankets up and closed his eyes, falling slowly into sleep.

  *~*~*

  The morning was cloudy and damp, chilly but with the promise of warmth later in the day. Trey's breath misted as he mounted Whisper, clasping hands with Bran and casting Topaz a tolerant glare.

  "Fare thee well, Trey. Best of fortune to you. Come back safe and victorious."

  "I am hardly going off to war." Trey smiled. "Though I admit things tend to take the path of violence around me. Keep safe while I am gone." He turned to speak to his second-in-command. "Do not go soft on our soldiers."

  "Perish the thought, brother." Morgan smiled and waved him off. "Cause lots of trouble for me."

  "Best of fortune to you, Lord Montaine." Topaz bowed. "Victor, attempt to stay out of trouble."

  "My pardon, Lord Steward, but do you not mean I should keep Sir Trey out of trouble?"

  Trey swatted him. "Just for that, you will prepare our meals the length of the journey."

  The group laughed. Lord Montaine nodded to Topaz. "Thank you, Lord Topaz. Majesty. I owe you a great deal for this kindness you have granted me."

  "Nonsense." Bran waved a hand as though to brush the words away. "With all I have heard, it is I who owe you a great deal more than can ever be repaid. Enough of this. Your journey is a long one, so you had best be off."

  Trey nodded, turning his horse and leading the way from the castle courtyard. The portcullis was raised as he and Montaine approached, and once beyond them he increased the pace, rapidly taking them beyond sight of the castle.

  They traveled in silence through the gray morning light.

  "I have neglected to thank you, Lord Trey." Montaine broke the silence.

  "Nonsense," Trey responded, turning to look at the man riding beside him. Sunlight was beginning to spill across the sky, lightening Montaine's graying hair and making Trey's almost silver. "It is my duty to assist you—and an honor."

  "It is only that you seemed displeased by it last night."

  Trey looked toward the far horizon. "I was displeased only because I feel Lord Topaz has set me a task I am unfit to complete. I am no sage." His lips tightened, but he said no more.

  Montaine pursed his lips thoughtfully. "And yet when I first posed my problem, Topaz immediately suggested you. Surely he had reasons for such a staunch belief."

  "No doubt," Trey agreed shortly. "But let us not dwell upon his motives. It will only bring about an aching head."

  "As you wish."

  Trey twisted in his saddle and looked at Victor, "We will stop an hour after sunrise, Victor. See that you have breakfast prepared shortly thereafter"

  "Yes, my lord. " Victor nodded enthusiastically.

  Montaine chuckled softly, voice low as he conversed with Trey. "Your squire reminds me of you at that age—though much more agreeable and less inclined to a fight."

  "He has as much fussiness as I did anger," Trey said, glancing back at Victor, who was torn between keeping a careful eye out for would-be dangers and falling asleep. "When I was reinstated as captain, Bran felt it would be a good match."

  "I look forward to seeing the knight he will become. Under your tutelage, he will be a great one."

  "Only if he becomes as interested in swords as he is in fretting over my clothing," Trey said ruefully. "Though he has skill aplenty as a bowman."

  Montaine laughed. "I do believe he is a good squire for you."

  "So I am frequently told." Trey cast Montaine a pensive glance. "So tell me more of what has befallen your son. Surely there are details that you have neglected to relate."

  Montaine sobered. "Aye. The mercenaries didn't appear and fall upon us all at once. They were clever, did it a piece at a time. My father was dead almost before I understood what was going on. They went after Dunstan before my father was even properly buried. Sometimes I wonder if Dunstan did not figure it all out before I did."

  "If he had, he would have said something."

  "Nay," Montaine flashed a brief smile, "not if he was intent on protecting us. He has a knightly sense of duty—I believe he got it from you."

  Trey was start
led. "From me? I sincerely doubt that. I was not much of a knight the years I knew him."

  "You would be surprised," Montaine murmured. "But enough of that. I believe he knew that he was next. I do not think he went to his garden by chance that night—he knew they'd come for him there, so he went to wait." Montaine closed his eyes, as if trying not to see the bad memories he was dredging up. "A hundred times I asked him, begged him, commanded him to place wards and the like in his garden, but he was insistent upon its remaining 'uncontaminated.' The only magic he used was to keep the roses growing all year long."

  He sighed. "I guess whatever he was thinking, it worked. The curse they used did not work as it should have. But I am not certain he expected things to occur as they did."

  "It is quite the puzzle," Trey said. "Why am I never given simple assignments?"

  "That is an easy enough question to answer." Montaine gave a genuine smile. "You would grow bored and start causing trouble again."

  Trey smiled faintly. He gazed into the distance and then slowly turned his head around to take in all their surroundings. The castle was well out of sight, only the smoke from the kitchen fires visible, thin threads of gray in the sky. He turned back to Montaine. "I assume my visit is purely a social one, so far as pretext goes? My presence will not cause you further trouble?"

  "Nay," Montaine said. "You are an old friend. They cannot forbid me visitors if they are to keep their motives secret. Simply take care in your investigations."

  "Of course," Trey replied.

  "Pardon, Lord Trey." Victor drew up beside them, pointing to a spot some distance ahead. "That looks like an ideal location for breakfast."

  Trey nodded and reached out to ruffle Victor's bright hair. He laughed at Victor's affronted expression. "A most ideal location. Run ahead and secure it for us, Victor."

  "Yes, sir!" Victor urged his horse forward.

  "If only you had been so eager to please at that age."

  Trey snorted. "Where would the fun have been in that?"

  *~*~*

  The sounds of combat rang out across the open field, followed immediately by a pained cry and the thud of a body thrown hard to the ground. Victor cursed softly and forced himself back up on his feet.

  "Your hair needs a trim, boy." Trey grinned, raising his sword again in preparation for attack. "If you could see properly, your defense might not be so sloppy."

  "Yes, sir." Victor said obediently, raising his shield barely in time to block the hard, jarring swing of Trey's sword. He managed to block several more before Trey once more slid under his defense and hit his side hard with the flat of his blade. Victor, stumbling back away from the blow, tripped over his own feet and once more hit the ground.

  "Your feet, Victor." Trey lowered his sword and held an arm out to help Victor up. "Do not become so occupied with your sword arm that you forget the rest of your body."

  "Yes, sir." Victor nodded dejectedly and combed his tangled orange curls from his face. He brushed the dirt from his clothes as best he could and then retrieved his sword.

  Trey sheathed his own sword. "Fix us dinner, lad. And do not look so glum." He winked. "I am certain Lord Montaine will find a suitably humiliating story about me with which to reassure you."

  "Aye," Montaine replied. "It is simply a matter of telling the one about the horse or the pigs and the banquet."

  Victor's gloomy face lit up. "Oh! I know the one about the pigs!"

  Trey groaned and gripped his forehead, as if warding off a headache. "I forbid that story to ever be retold in my presence." He sat before the fire Montaine had started, directly opposite him. "Nor are you relating the horse incident."

  "Incident?" Montaine threw his head back and laughed. "Trey, it was a trifle more than an incident. She wound up in the pond."

  "I made my most sincere apologies." Trey glared at the fire. "It was not my fault she would not leave me alone."

  Montaine eye's sparkled. "Would it have been so awful, Trey? To be her knight errant?"

  "Yes." Trey started to say something more, then recalled to whom he was speaking. "It would never have worked. Not to mention that I was naught but a fresh squire at the time. Hardly fitting for such a role."

  Victor, in the process of preparing a stew for their dinner, looked at them in confusion. "What is a knight errant?"

  Trey rolled his eyes. Montaine smiled. "An outdated custom these days. More outdated than I thought, if you have never even heard the term." He frowned in disapproval at Trey. "Honestly, Trey, what are you teaching your squire?"

  "What he needs to know, rather than nonsense."

  Montaine clucked in disapproval. "Keep at that stew, lad. A knight errant is an old custom no longer used. It used to be that princesses, certain ladies, and many sages each had their very own knight. That knight's sole purpose was to protect the person to whom they were sworn."

  "You mean like a bodyguard?" Victor asked.

  "Yes," Montaine said. "Except bodyguards are hired for a certain period of time. Knights errant are sworn for life. They exist solely to protect that one person."

  Victor looked dazzled. "So why did they stop doing it?"

  "Because it was impractical," Trey said sharply. "The best knights in the realm were forced to live for one person and one person only. Sometimes those people were worth it…but many were not, and too many knights died or were forced to kill those that did not need killing. Over time they became more of a status symbol and less a matter of protection. Even with Vladimir and others of his ilk, the world now is not so dangerous as it once was. Women and sages no longer need such protection. If they do, there is an army to provide it, or bodyguards to be hired."

  Montaine tsked softly and shook his head. "Not a romantic bone in your body, Trey."

  Trey replied flatly, "I am a soldier." He looked at Victor. "Try not to let dinner burn while you are fancying yourself a knight sworn to protect a fair princess."

  Victor flushed and went back to stirring. A moment later he looked up, mischief in his green eyes. "At least I would rescue her and not dump her in a pond."

  "Indeed." Trey's lip's quirked, though he attempted to remain stern. "Perhaps we should resume practice after we eat."

  Victor groaned.

  *~*~*

  "It-it really is black!" Victor gaped, awed, at the castle in the distance. "I have never seen such a thing."

  Trey and Montaine shared a look of amusement. Montaine beamed proudly. "The Black Castle of Bellewood. We know not who built it, only that the stone is not native to this land." He smiled at Trey, goading him. "Some say it was built by the Children of the Mist."

  "The Children of the Mist?" Victor looked at him, puzzled. "Do you mean the Children of the Moon?"

  "Yes, lad." Montaine threw his arm out to indicate his lands. "But here, they are more commonly known as the Children of the Mist." He winked. "I will have my beloved Beatrice tell you our tale of the Lost Ones."

  "Yes, my lord." Victor's eyes snapped back to the castle. "Your home is beautiful."

  "Yes, it is. They say once the stone was as smooth as glass, positively dazzling in the sunlight." He grinned. "They say it was even more amazing at night, when it could shimmer like moonlight on the ocean or vanish in the darkness."

  Victor was enraptured.

  Trey rolled his eyes and urged his horse forward, calling back to Montaine over his shoulder. "If you are finished filling my squire's head with nonsense, I would like to make the castle before supper. Victor, now!"

  "Yes, my lord." Victor obeyed immediately and the three continued on toward the black castle.

  *~*~*

  "Lady Beatrice," Trey accepted a pale, delicate hand and bowed low over it, "you are more beautiful than my memories told me. You have your mother's smile."

  Beatrice smiled. "I see you have learned some pretty manners, Lord Mistdale."

  "Trey, please. I am not so reformed as to want to stand on needless ceremony all the time."

  "Then you must conti
nue to call me Bea, please." Beatrice laughed, and Trey was happy to see that she still could. Like her father, it had almost seemed as though she had forgotten how. Truly she had grown into a beautiful woman, strawberry blonde curls neatly secured with gold netting, save for a few which insisted on freedom. Her blue-green eyes were dulled with strain, but there was a spark when she laughed. The pale skin and almost bony frame were, no doubt, a result of the curse that plagued her. Her dress was oddly out of fashion, the neck high rather than cut low enough to show the flesh above her breasts as was popular. "And may I say that you are every bit the handsome knight I always thought you would be, if you ever stopped being such a brat."

  Trey smiled. "I am still very much a brat, or so my friends tell me."

  "Then you are a very handsome brat. You must receive proposals every day."

  "Not as many as you, Bea."

  Victor was staring at Beatrice in awe, barely remembering not to let his mouth hang open.

  Beatrice smiled at him. "Who is this handsome young man?"

  "This is my squire, Victor from Hickory."

  Beatrice held out her hand and curtsied. Victor slowly her hand, holding it as though it were made of glass, and bowed low. "M-my lady."

  "An honor to make your acquaintance, Squire Victor. I am sure one day you will be the finest of knights."

  Trey snorted. "One day."

  Beatrice clucked. "Be nice. Under you, he does not have much of a choice." Taking her father's arm, she motioned them all inside. "Come and rest yourselves. I have ordered supper, and it should be ready in an hour's time." She swatted Montaine's arm. "You should have sent a messenger ahead to announce your arrival. I could have had dinner waiting for you."

  "There was no reason to put you to extra trouble, dove." Montaine smiled fondly at his daughter. "And we could use the hour to rest, else we might fall asleep in our soup."

  "You still should have sent word," Beatrice chastised gently. "Your rooms are this way, Lord Trey. There is a small room just off yours for Victor." She smiled at Victor, who turned pink. "It is comfortable and warm. The nights here can get chilly, so do not hesitate to ask for extra blankets if you need them."