by Megan Derr
At last he stirred, reminding himself that there was much he must do ere the dawn arrived.
Moving from the bench, he knelt before Kodey's trunk and examined the contents thoughtfully. Finally, he removed the cloth-wrapped bundle from his belt and tucked it away beneath a neatly folded tunic. Likely when Kodey found it, he would believe it a gift from Chastaine or Lady Winifred. If he noticed the inscription, he would know the truth immediately … but Kodey was Kodey, and Brice knew he would not notice.
Sighing softly, Brice stood and retrieved his bow, then made his way to his room to pack.
Kodey wanted to do everything.
After two hours of nerve-racking debate over whether or not he should be allowed to enter the tourney, he was at last here and with full permission, and Yvain had even said that it sounded as though he already had the tentative favor of two of those who would be judging. It made him want to scream or run or something equally absurd. Absurd was no doubt precisely how Brice would have described his behavior.
Kodey's levity died as he recalled his last meeting with Brice, how cold and derisive he had been. Never before had he thought Brice might hold his breeding against him, for was not Brice himself of less than perfectly noble birth? Yet his father had been a noble proper, and when taken in by his uncle, Brice had been well and fully instructed in the ways of the nobility. Had he not chosen to remain at Castle Triad, likely would he be a proper Beauclerc with a fine manor and pretty wife. Brice would not be overwhelmed by all this and would no doubt regard the banquet with bored resignation rather than anxious excitement.
Kodey was used to the festivities regularly hosted by Castle Triad. The pavilion was always filled with people then, all manner of food and entertainment, and one of Kodey's fondest memories was of the day he had managed to coax Brice into playing Blind Man's Bluff with a group of them for well into three hours. Since that night, which had been a Spring Festival, Brice had refused to play any such games.
Shoving away thoughts of Brice, except perhaps to think upon how nice it would be to take a mace to the bastard's head, Kodey crossed the room which had been declared his for the next two days. He paused briefly to admire the shield made by Chastaine and Lyon. It was divided into quarters, with the first and fourth bearing the wolf of Lons, the second and third quarters bearing the three-ring crest of Castle Triad. Lady Winifred and the other women had made a like banner for him to fly when he fought, as well as matching tunics he could not wait to wear. He was truly at tourney.
If only Brice could see him … Except Brice had not even bothered to say farewell. Merely told him that miserable night to do as he was told and not behave like a child, and he might survive. The next morning when Kodey had risen, it was to learn that Brice had been sent off by Lyon on some errand.
Kodey scowled and threw open the lid of the nearer of his two trunks. Seeing it was the one he sought, he began to rifle through it for the tunic he required. It seemed, however, that Lady Winifred had seen to it that half the keep was packed into his trunks. By the time he reached the tunic he required, he wondered how he was possibly going to fit everything back inside. How had Lady Winifred managed it?
He pulled the tunic out and shook it open—and saw something fly across the room. Frowning, he hunted down the mysterious object until he at last found a small bundle of velvet beneath the bed. What could it possibly be?
He slowly unwound the scrap of velvet, utterly perplexed as to what Lady Winifred might have included that would appear thus. He nearly dropped the object that fell into his hand, astonished: a ring. The gold band was wide and set with the Triad crest, each ring made of precious jewels. Beautiful; he had never owned or expected to own such finery. Lady Winifred wore jewels, Chastaine and Lyon had their few jewels, as did Lord Shad, and he had seen Brice wear his few upon occasion. Kodey was not them, however.
Still unable to believe it was truly his—perhaps it had gotten into his trunk by mistake and he should not wear it, but how could he possibly put it back now?—Kodey slid it onto his right middle finger and moved to the brazier that he could better admire it. The jewels flashed, seeming to glow. Kodey stared, unable to tear his eyes away. Was it a gift from Chastaine? A good luck token from Lady Winifred? Maybe …
He smiled sadly at the thought which tried to lodge in his mind. 'Twas a product of his imagination for a certainty. Why would Brice bestow so fine a gift upon him? Brice had called him childish and admonished him to behave. He had thought Kodey might survive the tourney, but had not actually believed that he would show himself honorably. Kodey would show that idiot, and then after Brice fell in love with him, Kodey would make him suffer for a bit before declaring that the feeling was entirely mutual. See who called him childish then.
Giving his ring one last admiring look—hoping it truly was his and not come into his possession by some mistake—Kodey retrieved his tunic and shook it out, draping it over his cot while he fetched the rest of his garb: hose, his better pair of boots, and the good black linen to go beneath his red tunic, embroidered with the Triad crest in black, gold, and silver. Dressing with all due haste, Kodey fetched a comb from the messy pile to which his belongings had been reduced and tidied his hair as best he could. He took a deep breath, and then another. He wished Yvain were about, but he had been stolen away to discuss matters beyond Kodey's understanding. He was only here to joust. The matters of true nobles such as Yvain eluded him, although he knew that Lady Winifred and the others dealt with such affairs.
Shaking his head at himself, Kodey finally forced his feet to move. Striding to the door, he jerked it open and all but threw himself into the hallway, tamping down his nervousness because no one else would be nervous and he refused to look the child Brice believed him to be, because if he behaved so poorly, then Brice would never return his affections, and Kodey did not believe a crueler fate was poss—
He let out a startled cry as he turned the corner and something heavy crashed into him—something heavy and generously soaked in perfume. Sneezing hard, eyes watering as much from the scent as being knocked to the floor, he attempted to see what had just occurred.
A woman had fallen upon him.
Barely restraining an oath, he scrambled to get from beneath her even as laughter filled the hallway. Kodey cringed as he regained his feet and assisted the lady who had toppled him. "M-my lady—"
"Oh, do not apologize," said the same voice from which the laughter had come.
Kodey looked to his right to see a man about his own age, with curly brown hair and green eyes. He was built like any knight, wearing a dark green velvet tunic trimmed in gold that spoke of great wealth indeed, and spurs of gold and emerald upon his boots. Kodey frowned, confused, and turned back to the woman. She was just as young, but her hair was pale blonde, eyes dark brown, and although she was not as pretty as Lady Winifred, he supposed she was still quite lovely. Next to Brice, she could not compare, but no doubt others favored her. "Truly, I offer my most humble apologies, my lady. Such crass behavior—"
"Is completely typical, good sir," the man interrupted again, grinning all the more when the woman shot him a dirty look and flicked one of her floor-length sleeves at him. The fabric was a rich blue, trimmed in silver embroidery. Whoever these two were … it was the greatest of fortune that they seemed more amused than angered. The man moved closer, tugging lightly at one of the girl's pale strands of hair. "She was the one who knocked you about, my good sir, and I assure you she knocks over at least one person a day."
"All the same, 'twas most unseemly—"
The woman laughed. "No, I am afraid he speaks only the truth. I was walking backward, more intent upon him than my path, and did not see you afore I knocked you upon the floor. So 'tis I, good sir," She dropped into an elegant curtsy and looked up at him through long lashes, "who offers to you my most sincere and humble apologies."
Kodey blinked, but before he could think of what to say, the man clapped him hard on the shoulder, laughter filling the hall. "I t
hink 'tis fortunate women do not participate in tourney. This one would unhorse every one of us for a certainty."
"You are being rude to your lady wife before strangers," the woman said tartly.
"Aye, but at least I do not knock them down ere the horn sounds the start of tourney," the man said lazily. "That would be an intolerable rudeness. Insulting one's wife, that is only a minor thing."
"You!" the woman exclaimed, again batting him with her long sleeve. She tossed her head, making the jewels of her beaded headdress sparkle in the torchlight. "Do not make me declare to all and sundry that 'twas your brother I should have married."
"Now, sweet," the man laughed, winking at Kodey, "we all know my brother would not take so well to the way you persist in being a better man than I. Nor does he love you truly. He loves naught but gold … so at that I suppose he would love you quite truly."
The woman sniffed, unimpressed by his words, and rounded on Kodey. "Mayhap I will shock my parents by abandoning you to take up with this handsome fellow. Good sir, I do apologize again for my unseemly behavior, as well as my husband's lack of manners."
"Yes, do forgive us," the man said, sliding his hand from Kodey's shoulder to take the hand his wife held out. "We are newly married and my mother said that tends to make people quite unbearable for a length of time." He kissed the back of his wife's hand, smiling fondly. "Although we ever have been unbearable, save to each other."
Oh. Kodey suddenly found it hard to breathe. These two were no different than Chastaine and Lyon or Lord Shad and Lady Winifred … except that they were noisy and loud and clumsy and bickered like children. He had thought that was why he and Brice never did get along, that they were so rowdy when put together for more than a moment. If it was possible to be as rowdy as these two and in love … then perhaps he stood a better chance at winning Brice's affections than he had dared to hope.
"Oh," the woman said, frowning. "I fear we have indeed upset you, good sir."
"Nay," Kodey said, forcing a smile. "'Twas only envy for your happy union. I fear when last we spoke, the object of my affection was less than happy with me."
The man smiled. "Then we shall not make ourselves more obnoxious to your sight by continuing to behave in such unseemly fashion. Mayhap proper introductions will recover some part of our tarnished image in your eyes. I am Ademar Osgood and I present to you my most lovely wife, Isemay Osgood. You we do not recognize, good sir, but—"
Isemay rolled her eyes and elbowed Ademar in his side. "You do not recognize him, fool husband mine, but I do in fact recognize that crest embroidered upon your robe. That is the mark of Castle Triad and the heralds do speak of that keep joining the tourney under the patronage of the House of Lons. Your name, however, I have not been able to obtain."
Kodey smiled, utterly taken by these two strangers who were not at all what he had expected—dreaded—of high nobility. "I am Kodey Delacroix, squire to Sir Chastaine Delacroix, who serves as a Seneschal of Castle Triad."
"La, the rumors are true!" Isemay exclaimed gleefully, clapping her hands. "I do remember the way my sisters fawned over Sir Chastaine. Alas, I was too much a girl to appreciate him ere he vanished forever, sworn to protect the princess." She clasped her hands and sighed. "Husband, you had best prove yourself the equal of that fine knight lest you find yourself with a bed and wife most cold."
Ademar rolled his eyes. "I will not dignify that with the response it deserves as we are before strangers, wife."
Isemay laughed and flapped her long sleeves at him again. She stepped forward and laced her arm through Kodey's. "Well come, handsome squire, and find a seat alongside us, that we might move you from stranger to friend. In what parts of the tourney will you be participating? My noble husband was most distraught that this tourney does not include a proper melee, but I think perhaps 'tis for the best."
"Aye," Ademar said from her other side, rolling his eyes. "My lady wife fears I would be captured for ransom and I fear she would not pay it."
"Naturally not," Isemay said with a laugh, but smiled gently at him as they turned the last corner and spilled into the grand hall itself. Kodey wanted to retreat to his room, but Isemay still had a firm grip upon his arm and he refused to look completely foolish by playing the coward. Ademar sighed. "I do hope we will not be forced to sit alongside that oaf, Turstin. When last I was forced into his company, still his breath was the rankest stench ever to be inflicted upon creation." He looked at Isemay. "Nor do I like how many times a night his eyes dropped to admire your bosom."
"You admire it at least as often."
"Aye," Ademar agreed, "but it has belonged to me since we were fourteen and betrothed."
She swatted him and admonished silence on the matter of her bosom. Kodey hoped his face was not as red as he suspected. Even Lady Winifred did not say such things, not that he had ever heard, and he had heard her utter coarse words indeed when her temper was provoked. Then he was being tugged across the room, scarcely permitted a chance to bow and murmur a greeting to Lons before Isemay and Ademar dragged him off to one of the four tables arranged in a great hall that seemed nearly as large as the entirety of Castle Triad.
Kodey missed home. The journey to the tourney grounds had taken a week and they had put off his birthday celebration until he returned home. All around him were strange faces; even the Triad guards who had accompanied him did not seem to be in attendance here. He wished for Chastaine or Lady Winifred, or even Lyon who hated such affairs. Better still would be Brice …
Kodey shook his head in frustration and vowed not to think any longer of the bastard.
"My wife never did give you a chance to say what parts of the tourney you will be attempting," Ademar remarked, breaking into his thoughts. He took a deep swallow of his wine, and then speared a bit of meat. "Myself, I am most looking forward to the jousting. The grander tourneys usually do not bother, but put all their focus upon the melee."
"Aye, the joust I should like to try," Kodey said, but with a grimace. "I think I shall not show myself well, but I would be the worse for not attempting. 'Tis the sword and mace duels which hold the greater portion of my interest."
Ademar winced. "Mace, aye, there is one I shall happily leave to others. Mayhap we shall cross swords. That, daggers, and the joust compose my trials in tourney."
Chastaine had admonished him to select daggers, but Kodey had decided upon mace anyway. He would hardly impress Brice by selecting those trials which came more easily to him.
"Well, I shall wish you the best of luck in your trials," Isemay said, patting his arm. "Unless, of course, you face Ademar in swords, in which case I will sadly be compelled to wish you the worst of luck."
"Of course, my lady," Kodey replied gravely, bowing as low as he could while seated. He grinned as he rose again and picked up his wine.
Isemay laughed. "La, I am glad I fell on you. Now, you spoke of one who holds your affections. Did this person not come to observe you in tourney?"
"Nay," Kodey replied, stifling a sigh. "He was sent on an errand and I do not think he would have come were he able."
"I see," Isemay said, and Kodey rather thought she did see. She motioned to the head table, where Yvain spoke with several others, glancing at them briefly with a smile. "You are sponsored by the Duke of Lons. However did you meet him, if you will forgive my boldness in asking?"
Ademar snorted, but at a look from his wife, patted her hand and continued eating. Truly it was painful to watch them, and yet Kodey could not tear his eyes away. If he managed to win his spurs at this tourney, would that someday soon be he and Brice?
Kodey scowled, renewing his vow not to think upon the bastard, and haltingly told the tale of how he had come to be at tourney. As he came to the end of the tale sometime later, he realized that far more than Isemay and Ademar were listening. Flushing, he hastily concluded and fumbled for his wine. So many strange pairs of eyes upon him … 'twas more than a little unsettling.
"You have seen true battle?" a
sked a young man a little further down the bench from where Kodey sat. His black hair was short and reminiscent of a cat's fur when it had been rubbed the wrong way.
"Aye," Kodey said cautiously. "Twice."
"Oh," said another man, and it was so strange to see men his own age looking at him in a manner he suspected was how he had ever looked upon Chastaine, Lyon, and Lord Shad. "However were you so fortunate?"
Kodey stared at him. "Fortunate? My first real battle came late at night, with naught but a sliver of moon in the sky and a chill of coming snow in the air. We were journeying home from attending the royal market to sell our ales and were attacked by brigands upon an isolated stretch of road. They cut down a third of our men before we could gather enough to rout them. I was but fifteen and gutted a man after he slew the guard ordered to protect me. I killed two more before the battle was finished and lost my dinner in a mulberry bush. I could keep naught but thin tea in my stomach for the next two days. I do not doubt my behavior was disgraceful, although Sir Chastaine assured me 'twas not." He shrugged. "I would not describe the experience as fortunate."
"Indeed," Yvain called down from the high table, and Kodey felt his face grow hot as he realized more than just his table had listened to him. "No man should ever be forced to take the life of another, young Kodey. 'Tis a burden we must bear as knights, for privilege always comes with a price. If you understand 'tis no fortunate thing, then you are well ahead of your peers and will make a fine knight indeed."
"Quite so," said the old man sitting beside him, dressed in blue and gray finery bearing a crest Kodey suspected he should know. "I can see Sir Chastaine has raised you well, my fine fellow. Tomorrow should prove most interesting."
His words seemed to end the discussion and the various conversations slowly resumed until Kodey eventually found himself left in peace.
