Magic was the stuff all around you, that you could feel and draw upon and use to power up your body, or make into magic balls of energy that you could throw at your enemies. Or, like the healing wenches did, you could bind it into a wound and heal a person. That was magic.
She didn’t know what it was exactly Oliver and the other Wizards were doing, because clearly despite all the mumbo-jumbo about amulets and coverage plans, they could use magic to make fireballs and other effects. But whatever it was they were up to, she was pretty sure they were overthinking the whole thing.
Magic was about drawing it into and then feeling where it needed to go. Sure, sometimes you had to get more complicated. Like with weaving it together into a magic power ball you could throw at someone. But at its most basic level, you pulled it inside and then made it do cool and pretty things. What did math and angles—or hammers and towers—have to do with it?
“Uh…thanks for the info,” Falon said courteously; her mothers had taught her to always be polite—especially when you were the one who just asked for someone else to take the time out of their busy day to explain something to you.
“No problem,” Oliver said a bit pompously, obviously still happy to have the chance to expound and explain on the subject most near and dear to his heart. “Don’t worry if you don’t understand it all the first time you heard it. Magic is a pretty complex and difficult to understand subject. Only a small number of men—and a handful of nuns—can understand its complexities and mysteries. There’s no need to beat yourself up trying to get it all down in one go.”
“Right. Thanks again, but I’ve got to run,” Falon said.
“Hey, about that fireball?” he asked as she started to beat a hasty retreat.
“I’ll be sure to look right into that first thing!” Falon lied while quickening her steps.
“But—” he called after her, but she broke into a run and darted behind the nearest tent before he could stop her.
“Whew that was close,” Falon said worried that her head would explode if Oliver tried to teach her about his wizard magic again right now or worse tried to get her to march the whole company down to the battlefield for one fireball.
Shaking her head, she straightened her shirt and then decided it was time to find something to eat and then get about her business.
Thinking about all the things she still had to do, her eyes lit up as one particular thing crossed her mind:
The prisoner.
Maybe, if she was lucky, he would lead to a payday for her. Now wouldn’t that be something after this wreck of a failed war? she thought.
Whistling tunelessly, she abruptly changed course on her way to a different set of tents entirely.
Chapter 43: Family Matters
“Hey there!” Falon said cheerfully as she pushed her way into the tent with her shoulder.
Both of her hands were currently occupied with two trenchers of bread heaped full of bacon, eggs, and gravy on one, with bred and stew on the other. The stew was mixing in with the bacon and eggs on her left hand, but she figured that if he was as hungry as she was that wasn’t going to be enough to ruin breakfast.
“Here!” she said, thrusting out the messy trencher with stew and breakfast eggs toward the other knight before he could request the one she’d reserved for herself. After all, she reminded herself smugly, his side might have won, but despite his brave words to her during the battle he was the one who’d wound up being a prisoner!
“Thanks,” he said, accepting the food before he could get a good look and realize he’d gotten the short end of the breakfast stick.
“So how are the accommodations?” Falon asked after most of her breakfast had gone down the gullet. “Guards treating you alright and all that? You may be a prisoner, but you’re still family after all. So if anyone’s been abusing you, just tell me and I’ll deal with it,” she vowed.
“No, nothing of that sort. I woke up under the care of a wench and was brought over here,” he said and then took a deep breath. “Frankly I’m surprised your Prince won the battle.”
“Oh, we didn’t win,” Falon cheerfully gloated, “but by then you’d already surrendered so…here we are!”
“I don’t recall surrendering…?” he said carefully.
“Since all you were doing was groaning at the time—and looking worse for the wear—it was more along the lines of ‘if you surrender then drop your weapons and come back with me to the healing tent. We’ll get you patched back up’,” Falon quickly fabricated. “Then we helped you up, you dropped your sword, and you pretty much know what happened after that.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a surrender to me…at least not technically speaking, Falon,” he said as he stopped eating and looked at her steadily. “Especially considering Baron Froggor, my liege lord, won the battle.”
“Well, you weren’t in much of a condition to say anything at the time, Justin. What was I supposed to do?” she asked sharply. “Just leave you laying there and hope your throat wasn’t slit by a scavenger—Stag or Toad—who was more interested in your sword and armor than your prior service on the field in the name of Froggor? In a way, I did you favor.”
“Thanks,” Justin said dryly.
“No problem,” Falon said with a grin and then shoved half of the remaining bread crust into her mouth.
“Not much on the table manners now?” Justin asked, lifting an eyebrow as he watched her eat.
Falon flushed her mouth more full than a chipmunk. Chewing as fast as she could, she swallowed and cleared her mouth. “Well, this is a camp and yesterday we just had a battle,” she explained defensively.
“True enough,” he said in a way which totally said that if any of her mothers could have seen her now, they wouldn’t have agreed.
“I’m sure we have better things to talk about other than table manners inside a prison tent,” Falon said, eager to change the subject.
“Say, while we’re on the topic, just how can you suddenly be a belted knight?” Justin asked, his easy voice belying the sudden sharpness in his visage.
“I wasn’t aware we were on that topic at all,” Falon swallowed around a suddenly dry knot in her throat.
“Humor me. After all, it’s not every day a man finds his long-lost sister and discovers she’s the knight leading an enemy force,” Justin said, his voice hardening slightly.
“Well…I was raised by the Prince,” Falon said, and then deciding that that pretty much said it all she lifted a mug of cider, quickly took a sip, and then kept it up next to her mouth so she had something to hide behind.
“That’s all you have to say? You were raised by the Prince?” Justin said with disbelief.
“Um…yep,” Falon thought about it for a moment and then nodded, still hiding behind the mug.
“I find that hard to believe,” Justin said and then raised a hand. “I’m not saying you’re lying,” although he sounded like that’s exactly what he was saying from the tone of his voice, “but there has to be more.”
“Nope…that’s pretty much it. I’m a knight because the Prince raised me up,” Falon nodded.
Justin’s mouth tightened. “Don’t try telling me you passed your trial, Falon,” he said harshly, “I won’t believe it.”
Falon flushed. “Due to various circumstances, the Prince skipped the bath, shipped me my sword, and then sent me away as fast as he possibly could,” she explained vaguely. She had less than no desire to get into the whole ‘saved his life in the woods, was ignored, then witnessed the murder of a baron who the Prince threatened, and then almost the next day found herself elevated to the Knighthood.’ “Besides, what’s this with me being the lost one? We’ve been living in the same place ever since we moved to Brown Creek Estate; you’re the one who never visited and then up and outright disappeared. We all thought you were dead—or still following around your Knight as a squire maybe.”
“We can get into my circumstances later. For right now, I don’t believe yours, so
walk me through it,” her eldest brother demanded. “Why would the person who advanced you to knighthood turn around and exile you? Unless...” a look of revelation, followed by disgust and a killing anger started to rise up in his face. “Did he take advantage of you?!” he asked furiously. “Is that what this is payment for a sordid deed! I knew this Prince was low, but even so—”
Falon’s eyes bulged. “No—nothing like that, Justin. I promise: my virtue is intact. The Prince doesn’t have the least idea that I’m anything other than your brother…well,” she paused, “I doubt he even knows you exist. But you know what I mean.”
“Then, unless you’re lying to me…how?” Justin looked totally perplexed at this point.
“Let’s just say…well,” she took a deep breath, “I witnessed something embarrassing, and he paid me off by advancing me to knighthood. Supposedly it’s because I’d also helped save them when he and a group of knights and others were lost in the woods, but…”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to share the embarrassing episode he so desperately wants to hide?” Justin asked, leaning forward with an engaging smile that almost made her want to lower her guard.
Reminding herself that she hadn’t seen this brother of hers since she was a girl child—and that he’d just all but accused her of being the Prince’s camp woman—she stiffened her resolve.
“Nope,” she replied.
“I could make an issue out of it and cause a lot of trouble for you if you don’t,” Justin said in a light enough voice that it almost sounded as if he wasn’t threatening her. Almost.
“Not very knightly of you,” Falon said, struggling to be just as light but from the slight quaver in her voice failing miserably.
“We are knights in the service of two different masters. You’re the one that just admitted to me that you know an embarrassing secret that might help my lord. Maybe my duty outweighs my manners and scruples,” he replied.
“A lack of scruples? This from a knight who, the first thing out of his mouth, upbraided me for not eating politely?” she scoffed.
“Point,” he chuckled before adding, “still, you never know.”
“Then I suppose that since you were asking me for an explanation as my older brother, not as an enemy knight looking for advantage, that I’ll just have to throw myself upon the mercy of your feelings of family affection instead?” Falon said seriously.
“You place a lot of faith in a brother you haven’t seen in years,” Justin sighed, sitting back in his chair. “Not that you’re wrong to do so,” he added begrudgingly.
“Well that’s a relief,” Falon said all but collapsing back into her chair, “because I really wasn’t looking forward to telling your widow how there was nothing we could do for you after we brought you back from the wench.”
He looked up at her sharply. “Murder is it now?” he assessed her coldly, and suddenly he wasn’t the half playful/half threatening older brother she barely knew. Instead he was a battle-hardened enemy warrior giving her the up and down. She shrunk away from his gaze before straightening and doing her best to return his look, while knowing she wasn’t entirely succeeding despite her best efforts, “Honestly…I don’t think you have the stomach for it,” he said finally.
Falon swallowed before continuing with what little bravado she could muster. “You’re probably right. But I wouldn’t kill you, or even do it myself. I’d just have my people knock you out and then maybe sell you off somewhere on a limited bondage term,” she said unevenly, even as she half thought out loud what she would have to do if he was going to reveal she was his sister and try to ruin her reputation alongside it in order to get the Prince’s secret out of her.
He scratched his cheek. “And lie to my wife that I was dead? I can half believe it,” he finally nodded, “that’s pretty cold.”
“Well so is threatening your own sister,” Falon declared defensively, “you can act like family or you can act like a brigand. I’m not the same girl you remember so don’t expect me to wilt like some hot house flower. I’ve been to war, I’ve fought in battles, and I’ve killed men to defend myself and my men. Although I’m serving in Lord Lamont’s fighting company as one of his lieutenants, a number of the men are personally sworn to me and not to his lordship. You should remember that.”
“I see,” there was silence in the tent as both sides sat and digested what she’d just said. “Well look at you…all grown up and following in your mother’s footsteps,” Justin finally sighed.
“I wasn’t aware she’d been to war,” Falon said with total surprise.
Justin waved his hand in the air. “I mean your heritage. Out here proving that all that old ‘warrior woman blood’ still flows just under the surface ready to erupt,” he said, shaking his head.
“I’m not here by choice. I’d much rather be home, worrying about never attending a ball while trying to find a good man to settle down with and get married to,” Falon lamented. “Unfortunately, father was sick out of his mind with rooting fever, Daman and Garve ran off years ago, causing the rooting fever to erupt, and little Rogan’s only five…or six, now. There was no one else to carry the load, so I had to step up and do the military service or watch the estate be reclaimed and our marriages decided by a Lord who didn’t even know enough about our family to realize I wasn’t one of our boys. You, of course, were long gone and already in the service of another. What was I supposed to do? This isn’t about some quest for woman power where I go out and show the world how big and bad of a warrior a girl can be. I’d be just as happy back home knitting up a storm. Well…maybe not knitting, exactly, but you know what I mean!”
“Like I said: all grown up,” Justin said with a hint of respect and appreciation now in his voice. “Well, I’ll be…”
“You make it sound like such a surprise,” Falon said sullenly. “I can do whatever I set my mind to—even be a boy and fight in battles and wars while leading men. You look too far down on me.”
“My little sister’s a Knight…I almost don’t believe it. Except, for some reason, even though she won’t tell me the exact particulars, I do believe it. Hah!” he laughed and then slapped his leg as if at some hilarious joke. “I guess pigs will fly in the air next! It’s a good thing we come from the Old Blood—these things are supposed to be expected!”
Falon looked at him sardonically. “Your belief and support are literally without limit, big brother,” she sniffed.
“You sure you don’t want to unburden yourself about whatever secret it is you’re keeping for that faithless Prince you’re serving?” Justin shot back, trying once again to pry the information out of her.
“I don’t think so,” Falon shut him down hard, “he may not be much of a lord, but he is the leader of the army I have to serve in. Besides, if he made me a knight because of it, I can just as easily see him giving me the headsman’s axe. I prefer my head on top of my shoulders, thank you and good night.”
Justin shook his head. “I wouldn’t serve a lord I couldn’t trust, yet had no choice but to fear,” he advised.
“Thankfully, my service is through the Swan Lord. Someday this nightmare will be over and done with. I’m not sworn directly to the Prince,” Falon shot back.
And although he clearly wanted to pick at her more, he finally gave it up for a bad game and stopped. “So how about letting me go now that this battle is over and done with?” Justin finally asked with a smile.
“Not a chance,” Falon smiled back, “not until you pay first.”
“You would extort a ransom out of your own brother,” Justin said mock angrily…at least she thought it was mostly mock anger.
“I can keep the armor if that’s your way of saying you can’t pay,” Falon said sweetly.
Justin spluttered. “You’re a heartless, ruthless woman. You realize that don’t you,” he scolded her.
“Deal with it,” Falon said bluntly, but then couldn’t help a smile from forming.
They bickered for a time over the par
ticulars. In the end, he’d played heavily on her family affection and custom dictating what happens when one side of a family captured another whilst the two were in the service of different lords. The fact that his Baron had won the war merely leveraged her into a lower ransom, but in the end they came to an agreement.
Still, she came away with a promise to meet his wife and young children for the first time, and if he lost some of his share of the battle spoils on his side and she gained instead she felt no guilt.
“I trust you’ll deliver what you owe without my having to hunt you down at your house or bring the rest of the family into it?” Falon warned after releasing him from the tent and calling for an escort.
“On my word and my honor as a knight and brother,” Justin said, raising his hand and two fingers as he swore.
“Well, alright then…I suppose you can go,” Falon said, feeling a pang now that they were done catching up and it was time to part ways yet again.
“You could still come with me, you realize,” Justin offered before turning to leave. “The campaign trail is no place for you. It’s no place for anyone, but…”
“I’m fine,” Falon said defensively, and then quickly wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye. It was nice to have someone care about her well-being again—even if just a little, teeny, weeny bit. “Besides, I will come and visit before we go. So long as time and the Prince allow, of course” she added.
“Well…then I guess this is it,” he said opening his arms.
Impulsively, she ran over and gave him a big hug before releasing him and taking a reluctant step back.
“Bye,” she said with a sniffle.
“Bye, yourself,” he said, and then turned. Without a backward look, he marched back to his people.
Chapter 44: The Swans Receive New Orders
It had been a tense couple of days, but the Prince’s army was now camped half a day’s march away from the Baron’s second largest town. They would soon be ready to leave the barony entirely.
The Channeling (Rise of the Witch Guard Book 3) Page 25
