He grunted at the track his thoughts had taken. His job was to protect Alecia Zialni. While he kept her safe, he could gather information for the mission that had really brought him to Brightcastle: the assassination of the prince. The truth of his task made him pause. Yes, it met his Defender goals -- to protect the innocent from harm by whatever means necessary -- but who was the faceless man who had hired him? Was it perhaps Zialni’s nephew Piotr? It made sense that Piotr, next in line to the throne, might want Zialni dead, but would the death of the prince bring even greater danger to Princess Alecia? How could Vard accomplish his task and extract himself while ensuring the princess was safe?
Vard rubbed the short hairs across the back of his neck. The zigzag of his thoughts unnerved him. Disaster would surely find him if he couldn’t keep his thoughts where they needed to be. Rigid discipline had served him well in the past -- allowing emotions to dominate his actions could only lead to ruin. He’d fought too hard to lose himself now.
He pulled his saddlebags from under the cot and packed his clothes for the move into the castle. Vard called his lieutenant in to inform him he’d be taking over leadership of the Zialni Royal Guard, then stepped into the night. As he re-entered the palace grounds, he glanced up to the windows on the second floor of the west wing where the royal family had their suites. Only one room showed a dim light.
Vard entered via the servants’ access, left his saddlebags and boots in the utility hall and slipped through the darkened passageways to the main staircase. Phasing partially to exploit the heightened senses of the wolf, his nose led him to the prince’s quarters at the end of the west wing on the second floor. The heavy wooden door swung on silent hinges and he pulled it closed behind him, pausing to get his bearings in the near dark. No noise came from the parlor or the bedchamber beyond. Vard memorized the position of each piece of furniture, searching for weapons in both rooms. A short bow hung from a hook beside the armchair in the parlor and he discovered a sword resting against the wall behind the bed.
Footsteps echoed from the hall followed by the squeak of a hinge. He ghosted to the bedroom window, opened it and slid through. Fingers gripping the windowsill, he scrambled for toe holds on the slippery quartz walls of the palace. Finally, his feet found two precarious cracks. He gripped the amber talisman with his right hand and began to form the image of the hawk in his mind.
Alecia pulled her head back into her bedroom from the hall. “Sweet dreams!” She kicked her skirts as she stalked to the fireplace. “As if anyone can sleep with him downstairs.”
Millie, her chambermaid had been bubbling with excitement at the news that the enigmatic Captain Vard Anton had moved into one of the servant’s rooms on the ground floor of the east wing. Alecia shook her head. Why does he have to be here in the castle? Aren’t the royal guard barracks close enough? Obviously not in the mind of her father. She gazed into the fire, her thoughts troubled and hands pressed to her stomach to quiet the fluttering. What was this reaction every time she thought of him? Fear? Unbidden, his face danced in her mind, uncompromising and confident. He had saved her life and hidden the true facts about the attack. Why had he not revealed that it had been the mercenary who had been the victim, not the lad? It did not make sense.
She poured herself a goblet of deep red burgundy and took a gulp. The heavy wine burned all the way to her stomach. Raw her nerves might be after the surprises at dinner but at least her part in the mercenary death remained hidden. Had she concealed her shock from the captain? Would he wonder at her behaviour? She needed to keep her distance and that would hardly be possible now that she was under his nose night and day. How could she prevent him discovering her other life, let alone her plan to avenge Jorge?
The thought of Jorge made her heart ache. Why hadn’t she been able to save him like she had Hetty? Why hadn’t she told Jorge how much he meant to her? She placed the wine back beside the decanter and turned to the fire, staring into the flames. It was too late. Jorge was gone and there was nothing she could do to bring him back.
The remaining four murderers must not escape justice but who would deliver it to them? Her encounter with the mercenary this morning had shown how unprepared she was for a confrontation with seasoned fighters. Perhaps she would never be ready. If not for Captain Anton…
There was a knock at her door. Alecia’s heart sped as the sharp sound intruded. Until today, she hadn’t been afraid of anything. She crossed her small sitting room and opened the door. Squire Ramón Zorba stood on the threshold. He had replaced Jorge as squire after Jorge’s murder and it was Ramón’s heartfelt desire to replace Jorge in her affections as well.
“Where were you at dinner?” she asked, noticing how the midnight-blue velvet of his tunic and breeches set off his eyes and contrasted with the golden waves of his hair.
Ramón glowered. “Your father told me not to attend dinner. Was that on your request?”
“Of course not.” She paused, chewing her lip. “Captain Anton was there. Do you know anything of him?”
Ramón frowned. “He rescued a citizen in the square this morning.”
“Yes.” She shivered. “Have you met him?”
“No, but he has made an impression in his short time at Brightcastle. Only a week and it seems he is already a legend.”
Alecia had never before heard the bitter note in his voice. “Why do you dislike him?”
“There is something about the man that makes my skin crawl.” Ramón’s voice hadn’t lost its harsh edge.
Alecia recalled her feelings at her first encounter with the captain and her discomforting memories since. “Father has made him my protector.”
Ramón’s eyes bulged and he tugged on the long hair at his forehead. “Then you must beware.”
“Thank you for setting my mind at rest,” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm.
“Just take care,” Ramón said. “I will try to keep watch on him… and you.” He stepped back into the shadows of the hall. “I will check in on you tomorrow,” he said. “Perhaps we can practise the sword.”
She flinched at the thought of sharp steel slicing through flesh. “I think I would prefer the archery range.”
“I will have the horses saddled and waiting at the usual time.” Ramón bowed and headed for the staircase and his room in the east tower.
“A curious pastime for a princess,” a deep voice said from the shadows at the other end of the hallway.
Alecia’s hand flew to her throat and she spun to face the voice, knowing whom she would see. Captain Anton pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards her, his eyes reflecting the light that spilled from her rooms. The grace of his movement mesmerized her. It seemed he slid from shadow to shadow, as one with the dark. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You startled me.”
The captain advanced to within a pace and swept a bow. The faint smell of musk and cloves wafted to her. She breathed deeply.
“Is it customary for you to meet young squires in darkened hallways, Princess?”
Alecia met his gaze squarely, glad that the light behind cloaked her face in darkness. Her unusual eye color would be impossible to read and that was the feature most likely to give her secret away. “Squire Ramón and I are friends,” she said. “Nothing more.”
“What is this I hear about archery practice tomorrow?”
“Merely an exercise to keep me from boredom.”
“And your father knows of this?”
Alecia cleared her throat. “I do not know.”
“There should be no need to trouble him as long as I accompany you.” His eyes glowed, the gold flecks prominent.
Alecia’s chin rose and she stared at him, desperate to find some way she could refuse. There was none. “As you wish, Captain.”
He reached for her right hand and raised it to his lips. The kiss was light but he held her hand for a few moments longer than necessary while he stared into her eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she held her breath, waiting f
or him to release her hand and break the spell.
“Until tomorrow, Princess.” He returned to the shadows.
Alecia stepped back into her room. The door closed with a sharp click. Heart pounding, she forced herself to take deep breaths but they did little to restore her composure. The feel of his lips lingered on her skin. What was wrong with her? She stalked over to the pitcher, poured cold water and scrubbed her hand until the skin was red.
Instinct told her the truth of Ramón’s words. Captain Anton was dangerous, and in ways that the squire did not yet suspect. She could not avoid him altogether. Her father had seen to that. All she could do to protect her identity was to spend as little time in his company as possible.
Chapter 3
Alecia awoke to the soft squeak of a door hinge. Heart pounding, she sat up, the bedclothes clutched to her chest. The vestiges of a nightmare fogged her thoughts and a twinge behind her eyes warned of an impending headache.
“Who is there?” she asked.
Millie, her chambermaid, came into view, a lantern held before her. Alecia’s stomach growled as the smell of hot, sweet rolls wafted to her from the tray the maid carried.
“It’s only me, Your Highness,” Millie said. “Who else would dare enter your chambers uninvited?”
Alecia frowned. She had to be more careful of her words or she would have the servants gossiping. “Sorry, Millie,” she said. “I had a horrible dream and have awoken badly.” The nightmare felt like one of her true dreams -- surely the enormous brown bear belonged only in her imagination. She shuddered at the thought of facing that nightmare one day.
“Let me get the candles lit, Highness.” Millie continued across the room and laid the tray on the small breakfast table by the window then bustled about lighting candles from a taper.
Alecia massaged her temples as she watched the flames flicker in the light breeze caused by Millie’s movements. The maid pulled the heavy drapes aside to reveal the soft glimmer of dawn. A rooster crowed and a faint answer echoed from the town.
“I think a fine day is ahead,” said Millie, turning as Alecia climbed out of bed. “You do look awful, Princess, if you don’t mind my saying.”
Alecia did mind. She retrieved a hot roll from the tray and bit into it. Surely food in her stomach would banish the ache in her head? “That will be all, Millie. I’ll dress myself this morning.” She handed the maid a sheet of parchment folded and closed with her personal seal. “Please give this to Squire Ramón as soon as you leave me.”
Millie tucked the paper in her apron. “Captain Anton is already up and about. Have you seen him, Highness? There’s something about him that makes it hard to breathe.”
“Yes, Millie,” Alecia said. “I suggest you be about your chores.”
Millie blushed. “Yes, Princess.” The maid scurried towards the door and stepped into the hall, the lantern held before her. Alecia followed, wondering if the captain still patrolled the hall as he had last night. A shadow moved near the end of the passageway. The shiver up her spine told her it was her dark protector who prowled the hall.
She slipped back into her room, closed the door and crossed to the huge carved wardrobe. The soft gray breeches and matching shirt should do for an early ride to the archery range. Her father disapproved of breeches but Alecia revelled in the freedom of movement they allowed.
Once dressed, she checked her appearance in the large mirror on the front of the wardrobe. The snug fit of the breeches showed off her long legs and tiny waist. She smiled, wondering what Captain Anton would make of the outfit, and then shook her head; Jorge was not dead two months and here she was wondering about another man. It was wrong, wrong, wrong! Taking her wayward thoughts in hand, she pulled a deep gray wool-lined cape from a hook on the side of the wardrobe and slung it about her shoulders. It would be chilly on the ride and the dark cloak would make the lilac of her eyes look closer to blue. Her long blonde hair she left to cascade around her face.
Alecia slung the shortened longbow across her body and the quiver over her shoulder. The tapestry that covered the door to the hidden passage caught her attention. It featured a young woman, sword in hand, her flaxen locks restrained by a golden crown. Her mother had told her the queen was a Zialni monarch, called Izebel, from a time long ago when women ruled the land. It had been Izebel’s daughter Daphini who had brought the kingdom to its knees, precipitating an uprising that had seen Daphini’s brother take the throne. Kings had ruled the Kingdom of Thorius ever since. Alecia dreamed of becoming a warrior queen who led her soldiers into battle and wiped evil from the face of the kingdom. She had vowed that one day, queens would again rule.
A knock at the door jerked Alecia out of her reverie. Fearing it was Vard Anton come to fetch her, she flicked the tapestry aside and triggered the hidden catch. She entered the passageway and flattened herself against the inside wall, praying to the Mother that the panel would close in time. Seconds seemed like minutes as the low grinding of stone on stone filled her ears. Finally, the wall settled back into place. The captain would not dare enter her chambers. Would he? If any sound penetrated to the passage, her rasping breath and pounding heart drowned it out. After a tense moment, she allowed her body to relax.
“That was close.” She pushed off the panel and headed along the narrow corridor that would take her to the trapdoor hidden outside the castle walls. Ramón would be waiting in the park nearby as per her note. She made the trip in darkness, feeling her way as she had done many times in the past, barely noticing the creatures that scuttled out of her way.
Alecia shoved against the trapdoor and climbed into the faint light of dawn, half expecting Captain Anton to be waiting for her. The secluded area was blessedly deserted as she lowered the stone panel into place and sprinkled sand to mask the door. She found Ramón in the park, twirling the reins of his black gelding and her gray mare in his hands. A relieved smile lit his face when he saw her.
“Another moment and I would have come to fetch you.” Ramón pulled a strand of cobweb from her hair and examined her face. “What is amiss?”
Alecia frowned. “Nothing.”
“You have the look of trouble on your face, Your Highness. If you do not wish to practise, we could go for a ride. The high meadow is nice in the early morning.”
Alecia studied the squire’s earnest expression; his deep blue eyes could never conceal anything from her. Clad in a violet shirt under a dark gray tunic with matching gray breeches and an ermine-trimmed black woollen cape, Ramón would turn heads in any of the kingdom’s royal courts. Perhaps he should return to the King’s court at Wildecoast, where he could make a suitable marriage. At least then he would not trouble her with his puppy love. But she would be lonely without him, and with whom would she practise archery and the sword? The crusty old weapons master was not half so much fun to tease as Ramón.
She hooked her bow and quiver over the saddle and pulled her reins from the squire’s hand. “I have told you to call me Alecia when we are alone.” She vaulted onto her horse’s back. “Let us go.”
Ramón climbed onto his gelding. “I will remember…Alecia.” He heeled his horse forward, grinning.
Alecia followed, dismayed that she had given the squire hope that they could be more than friends. He was a dear chap and easy to be with, when he wasn’t mooning around after her. She did not love him; moreover, she was destined for a marriage of convenience, though she longed to make a love match. Ramón deserved someone who could love him. She spurred her horse after her companion.
Alecia’s mount slid to a halt in front of the palace stables, the gray mare half rearing at the abrupt change from gallop to standstill. She flashed Ramón a triumphant grin as he arrived moments later, pulling his horse up short of the flustered stableboy.
“You cheated,” Ramón said. “I had to close the gate.”
“It is my prerogative,” Alecia said, laughing. The exhilaration of the race and her victory made her feel as if she could float away. She flung hers
elf off the horse and handed the reins to the boy, who stood frowning. “We are sorry to have startled you, Billy,” she said, handing him a silver penny.
The boy’s eyes lit up. “It was nothing, Princess.” The penny disappeared with lightning speed into his pocket.
“What brings you to the palace stables, Billy?” Alecia said. “Do you not serve in the smithy?”
“I did, Princess, but Captain Anton has taken me under his wing, so to speak.” Billy adopted a worshipful expression. “He said I could care for his horse and he would train me in weapons.”
Alecia frowned and looked at Ramón, whose face wore a scowl at the mention of Vard Anton. Her joyful mood vanished behind a dark cloud.
A deep voice sounded from behind them. “It’ll be hard for me to keep my promise to the boy if he’s trampled beneath the hooves of your horses.”
Alecia turned to find Captain Anton, resplendent in gray tunic and black leggings, lounging against a rain barrel. She swept her hair forward so it fell in soft waves against her cheeks and folded her cape over her arm. She shoved her bow and quiver at Ramón.
“I fear it is time for luncheon,” she said. “If you will excuse me, I am expected at table.” She tried to walk past but the captain’s arm flashed out and blocked her way. The odour of musk combined with something else she couldn’t name distracted her.
“I wish to know how you left the castle this morning without my seeing you,” the captain asked, his voice low and angry. “Your father was worried, though somewhat reassured when he discovered that the squire had taken two horses from the stable.” He looked towards Ramón who shuffled his feet.
Princess Avenger - Brightcastle Saga Book 1 Page 3
