by Jason Malone
“We are here to see your lord,” I called back.
“Do you have an appointment?” the man shouted.
“No. We are unexpected and uninvited. My homestead has been burned and my lands raided, and my friends and I need a roof to sleep under and some food for our bellies. We also wish to view your lord’s library.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Edward, and these are my servants, my apprentice, my oathman, and Lady Matilda of Henton.”
“Henton? You there,” the man shouted, his voice slightly friendlier now. “I know Earl Harold. Are you his daughter?”
“I am,” Matilda called back. The man raised his hand, and the bowmen lowered their bows.
“Very well. I will tell My Lord that he has visitors. But do not expect a warm welcome.” The man turned away and hurried off along the ramparts to the keep. The bowmen stared down at us like statues while we waited before the gate.
“I’m glad I stole you from Henton after all,” I muttered to Matilda. She just smiled.
Minutes later, there was a loud cranking noise and the gate began to slowly rise. The spearman was behind it, and he gestured for us to enter. We followed him into the castle’s main yard.
“Welcome to Oldford Castle, home of Lord Adalbert,” he said, taking the reins of our horses. He handed them to a stable boy, who took them away to be fed.
“Thank you. I am eager to see the lord,” I replied.
He nodded. “Follow me, please, all of you.”
And so the man led us across the yard and into the keep. He pushed the large wooden doors open, and we found ourselves within a small throne room. There were beautifully carved stone columns holding up the high roof on either side of the room, and from the walls hung exquisite tapestries. There were windows, but they were tinted and let in little sunlight due to the high walls that surrounded the place, so the room was mostly illuminated by the sconces attached to the columns and the large firepit in the middle.
Surrounding that firepit were four long tables forming a square. There was a tall dais at the end of the room opposite us, and on that dais sat a grand throne. On that throne was a thin middle-aged man with greying blonde hair, a shaven face, and white, wrinkled skin. He wore a fine cloak and an expensive silk tunic, and on his head he wore an iron diadem with a single ruby embedded in its centre. A spearman stood at the base of each column, staring straight ahead.
“My Lord Adalbert, your guests,” our escort said. He bowed, as did the rest of us. Matilda gave a low curtsy.
“Thank you, Karl. You may return to your post,” said the man on the throne. He had a croaky voice and coughed every so often.
He nodded at Matilda. “So, you are from Henton. And you… Ah, I know you. Edward, Brendan’s apprentice.”
I smiled and bowed my head. “I am, My Lord. We met five years ago.”
Adalbert leaned back in his seat and grunted. “I remember now. Brendan stayed for several months to solve the business with the well. You befriended my daughter, if I recall correctly.”
“That is correct, My Lord.”
“I hear Brendan’s old house has been destroyed, and you seek my hospitality. Very well, you shall have it. It is always an honour to host a lady and a Godspeaker.”
“Thank you, My Lord. We are in your debt.”
Adalbert coughed. “Yes, yes. I trust you will stay for Winterlow? You may take advantage of my hospitality for as long as you wish, though in exchange I hope you shall provide the services of your Gift, should I require them.”
“Of course,” I said.
I bowed, and Adalbert waved his hand. Some servants came and showed us to our rooms, which had already been prepared as if Adalbert were expecting guests. I was led away from the others and down a long, dark hallway into a big bedroom. It had a large red rug on the stone floor and a canopied double bed pushed with its back to the wall. There was a fireplace, with another rug by the hearth, and a small table with two chairs sat beside it. A draught board was set up on the table. By the fire was a large wooden tub, already filled with water. Bookshelves lined the walls, and close to the bed was a large cupboard and a set of drawers.
The servant who had escorted me curtsied as we entered the room. “His Lordship has told me that you are welcome to his hospitality indefinitely, should you wish it, lord,” she said. “His Lordship has said that you should bathe, lord, and you have a fresh change of clothes in the wardrobe. Your current clothes will be cleaned. This will be your room for the duration of your stay.” She bowed her head, and I thanked her. She left the room, and I began to undress. I was aching for a wash.
I threw my filthy clothes on the floor at the bottom of the bed and hopped into the tub. The water was hot, but not too hot, and I slid down into it and sighed. I pulled my head underwater, then back out again, and tipped it back. Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the edge of the tub, enjoying the warm embrace of this water. I always bathed in cold water at home, so it was nice to enjoy the comfort of a warm bath whenever I stayed in the home of a nobleman.
I let my mind wander as I sat in the bath. I thought about my home, which was now lost to me, and my oathmen, who were all dead or gone — aside from Dughlas, of course. I thought about Hakon and Emrys. Why had Hakon torched my home? Did he do it out of spite?
I wondered if Emrys even existed at all. If he did not, it would all have been for nothing.
But if he did, then the consequences, were Hakon to release him, would be far worse. If the legends were true, Emrys would devastate Ardonn until he was finally defeated by King Stephan’s army. There were rumours that folk were arming themselves for when the fragile peace within Ardonn inevitably broke, but none would be prepared for the war Emrys would bring.
I needed to stop Hakon. But I was a fool. I thought I could escape the fate that Aelda’s ghost had warned me about.
Little did I know I was walking right into it.
6
Blood
Lord Adalbert’s library was underwhelming. I admit I expected something grander, but now I had my doubts about finding any information at all about Emrys. It was tidy, at least. The door looked like it had been fitted only a few months before, the stone floor had recently been polished, and the rugs and curtains were of high quality. The servant girl from before escorted me to the library not long after I had settled in, and I had been here searching for the last hour.
“I apologise that our library is…somewhat small. I do hope you have not come all this way for nothing,” a woman said from behind me.
She had taken me off guard as I browsed one of the shelves, and I turned to see a young noblewoman watching me. She was tall — almost as tall as me — and slender. She wore a deep blue and white dress with flowing skirts, which tightened around the torso. Pearls were strung around her neck, and her curly blonde hair was tied into two thick braids, which fell past her shoulders and down her back. Her face was pointed, with a sharp chin, long nose, and a mouth that appeared too small for her face. Her skin was incredibly white, and that whiteness only emphasised her bright blue eyes, which were round and large and seemed to pop right out of their sockets. She had an odd look about her, but she was an unconventional beauty. I bowed to her.
“My Lady,” I said, for I was addressing Ecwyn, Lord Adalbert’s beloved daughter.
“It is good to see you again, Edward. How long has it been? Four years?” She approached and held out her hand for me to kiss. She had about half a dozen rings on her fingers.
I put her hand in mine and lifted it to my lips. “Five years, Lady Ecwyn,” I replied.
She smiled and nodded. “Why have you not visited? I was under the impression we were friends.” She came to stand beside me and pretended to look at the bookshelves.
“My master Brendan died not long after my last visit, and since then I have been busy,” I said.
“A pity.”
“You could always have visited me. You know where my home is…was.”
&n
bsp; “Yes, but I have heard it smells like peasant.” She turned to me and smiled, but that smile became a frown when she saw the sorrow in my eyes. “Was?”
“My home has been destroyed, My Lady.”
“By whom?”
“Bandits,” I lied.
Ecwyn touched my cheek then took both my hands in hers. “I am sorry to hear that, Edward. Truly. Father told me you were here, but he neglected to tell me why. I do wish you were visiting on happier terms.”
“As do I, My Lady.”
Ecwyn nodded and made her way across the room. I followed. “Perhaps I should have invented a ghost so that you would have reason to come here. Anyway, what need have you of our library?” Ecwyn ran her fingers along a row of books.
“I seek information about the old King Emrys,” I said.
“Why?”
“I want to kill him.”
Ecwyn laughed. “Edward, my dear old friend, you have a very interesting vocation.” She turned to face the books for a few moments before pulling one from the shelf. “Here. This one contains poems from the pre-Unification era. I used to read it as a child, but now they are all up here.” She tapped the side of her head and then handed me the book. It was dusty, with a plain leather cover and a few scorch marks, but it was intact.
“Thank you, Lady Ecwyn,” I said. She nodded and glided to another set of shelves.
“A good friend of mine, the girl who served you here, seems to be quite fond of you,” Ecwyn said, scanning the shelves.
“Why? We barely spoke.”
“One look at you, Edward, is enough to make any lady swoon. But I know your reputation, and I pray for your own sake you do not take that girl into your bed.” She pulled a book from the shelf, held it under her arm, then continued searching.
“I cannot make any promises,” I said.
Ecwyn sighed and then turned to me. “Let me tell you a secret. My father trains all his servants to be spies. They spy on the guests, the guards, and even his own oathmen. They gather information and then pass them on to His Lordship. When my father is satisfied with their talents, he sends them to Oldford to spy on the merchants.”
“That seems…”
“Excessive? Paranoid? I agree,” she said. “My father believes that the nobility and the merchantry are at war, and thus he is constantly on guard. He thinks that the merchants are spying on him and plotting to overthrow him, so he hides in his castle and gathers intelligence as if they will attack at any moment. Gods bless him.”
Ecwyn turned back to the shelves and reached for a book, but her arm was a hand too short. She pointed, I pulled it down, then she handed me the other book. “Those contain histories of the kings around Emrys’s time, including Emrys himself. They may be helpful.”
“Thank you, My Lady,” I said. “I will read these.”
“Of course. If you have further questions after reading those, do come visit me in my quarters. I know much about the past, and it would be nice to spend some time together and rekindle our friendship,” Ecwyn said. She held out her hand, I kissed it, and watched as she left the room. She turned in the doorway, gave me one last smile, and then was gone.
I examined the books she had given me. They were old. Very old. I had expected to find nothing useful here, but it seemed the few books Adalbert did have were histories. Just as I was about to leave for my own room, Matilda entered the library, and she immediately screwed up her face.
“This is the library?” she said.
I laughed. “The Lords of Oldford must have had little interest in assembling a collection. I have some books that might help us. Do you prefer poems, or histories?”
“Poems, of course,” she said. Matilda, like me, had been given some new clothes by Adalbert and was now wearing a modest brown woollen dress. It had little sailboats sewn into the hem with a slightly darker brown wool.
“Here you go, then. Read this, and see if you can find anything useful,” I said.
Matilda opened the book. “Are these about Emrys?”
“Some of them.”
“I will let you know if I find anything.”
“I see Adalbert has given you some new clothes. That dress looks good on you, My Lady.” I gave Matilda a smile, and she only blushed. “Take care with what you say around those servants, by the way. They spy for the lord.”
“How rude.”
“Lord Adalbert is holding a small feast for us this evening,” I said.
“For all of us?”
“No, just you and me. Shall we get started on these books beforehand?”
Matilda nodded, and the two of us went to our separate rooms to begin reading. Light still streamed in through the windows in my quarters, but it was cold, so I sat by the fire and opened one of the books.
The text was ancient. I could barely make sense of the words on the page, and the archaic language did not make it any easier. I wondered how Matilda would fare with her tome. I tried to find the sections regarding Emrys, sifting through many tales of his ancestors — all interesting — until I eventually found writings about the legendary king.
As I expected, not much was helpful. I wanted to find where Emrys was locked away and the nature of his imprisonment. I also hoped to find clues as to where he went during the hundred-year gaps between his military campaigns, though I expected to find nothing but speculation. All the information in these books told of his deeds during his reign, and there was nothing about him after his disappearance. These tales told of how he had gone into the hills one day and never returned, and every story of Emrys in these books ended in a similar way.
The second book was much more helpful. It had new entries towards the end regarding the struggle between Godwin and Emrys, and there was a piece of information that I found useful. A line in the legend told of how King Carol the Great, Godwin, and Emrys all met atop a mountain and fought a battle lasting nine days, and realising that Emrys could not be defeated, Godwin outsmarted Emrys and led him into the mountain. Before Emrys could realise he had been tricked, he was sealed inside by Godwin’s magic. Was that why Hakon needed my sword?
There was also another interesting line. After Emrys was defeated, this chronicler tells of how Godwin and Carol “went back south” to the Capital. So, this mountain in which Emrys was sealed stood somewhere north of the capital. I was interrupted by a knock at my door.
“Yes?” I called.
“My Lord wishes to invite you to supper,” the servant girl called. I had lost track of time, and evening was already upon us.
“Oh. Give me a few moments,” I said. I searched the large wardrobe for some more suitable clothes and changed into them. They were nothing too fancy, but the fabric was of an incredibly high quality, likely imported from the south.
I greeted the girl outside my door, and she escorted me through the keep to a small, private dining hall. Tapestries and banners hung from the walls, and a small fireplace sat at one end of the room. A table large enough for no more than a dozen people sat on a fine red rug in the room’s centre. Matilda and Ecwyn were already seated and were chatting when I came in. I took a seat opposite them. Ecwyn greeted me before scolding me for failing to visit her.
“I was too engrossed in the books you gave me, My Lady,” I explained. Ecwyn tutted. “Did you find anything useful, Matilda?”
“The poems said something about Emrys being sealed in a mountain somewhere to the north, with Alcyn’s aid,” she said. I nodded.
“Matilda explained to me that you wanted to find out where Emrys was imprisoned,” Ecwyn said. “If you had only come to my room, Edward, you could have saved yourself a lot of reading.”
“Do you know where he is?” I asked.
“Where who is?” Adalbert said. The Lord of Oldford took a seat at the head of the table and tapped three times. Servants began to enter the room with plates of food and bottles of wine.
“Have you heard the legend of King Emrys, My Lord?” I asked.
Adalbert coughed. “I hav
e. Please, help yourself to the food.”
We all began to fill out plates, and I poured an aromatic white wine into my goblet. I opened my mouth to speak, but Ecwyn interrupted me.
“Edward is seeking his burial place, Da. He is going to finish what Godwin could not,” she said.
Adalbert raised an eyebrow and then shrugged. “Emrys is a legend. You would do well not to chase legends.” He tucked into the meat on his plate.
“I make a living chasing legends, My Lord,” I said.
Adalbert grunted.
“And I know where you can find him,” said Ecwyn.
“How do you know that, my dear?” Adalbert asked.
“Since you do not allow me to leave this castle, Father, and since you will not have me married, even though I am seeing my eighteenth winter, I spend my time reading.” She popped a piece of carrot into her mouth, and Adalbert’s jaw clenched.
“We will not start this in front of our guests, Daughter. You are too young to remember when our castle was besieged by Edwin’s men because I refused to pick a side in his damned war, and thus you are ignorant of the horrors of the world beyond these walls.” Adalbert then smiled at me. “Please, enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” I said.
“I know what the siege was like, Da. I am forced to relive it each day,” said Ecwyn.
“Ecwyn!” said Adalbert. He went into a fit of coughing before he could scold his daughter further, then downed his cup. We sat for a few moments in silence.
“Lady Ecwyn,” I eventually said. “You know where Emrys is?”
“Well, no,” she said. “But I do know how you can find him. There is a man — his name is Ward — who used to be the Godspeaker for King Edwin before he was usurped. He supposedly died during the siege of the Capital in 1109, but there are rumours that he escaped and lives as an outlaw.”
“And how would that be helpful?” Adalbert asked.
“It is a lead, Da. The Royal Godspeakers were said to know everything about the deeds of their predecessors. If you can find this Ward, Edward, he may be able to point you to the location of Emrys.”
