by Dawn Peers
“We have forty rooms to prepare tonight, and those lords are arriving tomorrow morning. We know from past years what to expect, so I want the rooms for the rest of Lord Shiver’s retinue to be done first. Spirits know whether or not they’ll arrive in the middle of the night again but we have to be prepared. It wasn’t a pretty sight three years ago, for those of you old enough to remember it. Mind you, I’d want to leave Sevenspells as early as I could too, and stay away for as long as possible. Lord Venn and Lord Obrenn can be done next. They come with small entourages so we can get them out of the way nice and quickly. Lord Augyr and Lord Broc can come next for the same reason. Then Lord Calvin, and finally we’ll sort Lord Erran. If he deigns to turn up on time, or at all, that is.
Quinn felt the contempt wash away as quickly as it came. Not many people in court liked Lord Erran, though Sammah had a curious affiliation with him. The men seemed to share interests, but compared to his contemporaries Erran wasn’t just a bore, he was lazy and overly needful. Ross always left Erran’s rooms until last, when his maids were tired and wanted to finish their work and go home to eat. The standards would be poor, and he would ignore all of the complaints that would be levelled his way. If you didn’t keep in Ross's good graces, then you couldn’t expect a good standard of accommodation. Shiver, who always arrived first out of all the lords, knew this, but he also liked to keep his allies on their toes as well as his enemies. He had been crucial to the war effort during the conflicts with Sha’sek. Shiver had been a young lord during those times, his father still in charge of the blighted and thankless holding of Sevenspells. Shiver had wanted to make a name for himself; had wanted to prove his worth. He had done so, not just to his father, but to the king as well. Many considered Shiver to be a fine candidate for king himself should the opportunity arise. Shiver knew this, and so did King Vance. Vance therefore kept Shiver by his side at all times when he was in Everfell. Shiver would not be able to spit without it being reported back to Vance and his aides. Tense times called for overbearing measures.
Quinn moved off, her rooms allocated. She never worked with any of the other maids. She was both curious and envious of their relationships with each other. They would spend their nights chatting away, gossiping about men in the castle, about which lords were pursuing which ladies, and which men they thought they had been able to flirt with. These women dreamed of catching the eye of a lord and being whisked away from the toil they had to face each night. It wasn’t a bad lot, being a maid in the castle. The night maids especially so, as the usual bustle during the day was minimal during the small hours of the night. But they were still maids, and they spent much of their time working fawning over the expensive dresses and intricately-cut jewellery that they would never be able to afford. It was dream made possible in their lifetimes. The Queen Eleska had been a maid herself many years ago. This fairy tale gave the other girls hope. Their talk made Quinn nauseated. Envy combined with anger at their lot in life, as well as the lies they spun each other in an escalating rivalry, combined to make Quinn overwhelmingly ill. She had worked one night with two other girls, Grainne and Yvette. The two had thought her to be odd, because she couldn’t talk to them in more than stuttering nervous outbursts. They sniggered at her and called her names behind her back. It didn’t matter how quietly they did it; Quinn knew exactly what they were feeling. Each stroke of negativity was like a dagger slicing thinly in to her skin, pulling a little part of her away with it each time. Ross had noticed this. He had pulled Quinn away and given her solitary duties. He had been worried about the wrath of Sammah, but her father and master had been pleased. Such were the delicate bonds between the masters and the workers in the halls of Everfell.
8
Quinn sat in the corner of her final room, resting her back and stretching out her aching legs. She closed her eyes and smiled as around her, she heard and felt nothing. The rare silence almost thrummed through her head, and it was delightful. She had already completed preparing all of her allocated rooms, and she was only partway through the night. Quinn silently thanked Sammah for her early start, giving her an opportunity to rest still, whether he knew it or not. Quinn groaned as her muscles quickly started tensing as the cold from the stone floor seeped through her skin. She quickly clambered to her feet and trotted over to a windowsill, deciding to take a perch overlooking the entire city instead. Everfell was at its most beautiful for her when it was at its calmest, when she could sit and watch without judgement, reprisal, or fear of what the thoughts of others might bring.
From her high vantage point in the eastern tower of the imposing grey castle, she could see the majority of the city as its sprawling mass sloped downhill towards the outer walls. Dozens of candles spaced out sporadically still twinkled defiantly against the oppressive night cover; it was cloudy and the stars and moon were all obscured. The main avenues through the city had constant torches lit for night travellers. The city never had time to really come to a stop, much like her master, and dozens of boys were employed specifically for their height and reach to be able to get to the more awkwardly placed avenue lanterns. She couldn’t make out any people on the ground, just blurred moving shapes which could have been anything at this distance. This pleased Quinn. Leaning out of the sill and craning her neck to the left, she could see the western tower, which reached higher than the one she was in and also pitched slightly forwards. She tried to identify which room was Sammah’s, and whether he was still awake. Quinn couldn’t tell—there were a surprising number of rooms with flickering lights still showing through—though she didn’t doubt that Sammah would be in one of them, toiling away until the light of dawn began to show over the horizon. That was his first sleep of the day, just after the morning break. He would rest again then just after lunch, and again in the early evening before working through the night. He was a madman for such routines and he was silently ridiculed around the court; no one would dare slander Sammah to his face. The Sha’sek baron wasn’t ignorant of what people said about them; he simply ignored them. He worked so much harder than the rest of them around here, Quinn knew that he was a man of worth and power. He would be rewarded for his intense work ethic, she knew it in her heart.
A commotion down on the ground brought her out of her reverie. Horses were coming into hearing, their hooves clattering up the main avenue leading to the gates of the castle. At this time of night it could only be the rest of the retinue from Sevenspells. Quinn threw herself out of the room, sweeping her eyes over the bed to make sure it was clear and neat; checking the fruit bowl was full; that the bathing room was clean and the bath itself spotless. She did not want to be in this part of the tower when a lord’s family and staff came sweeping through the hallways, its narrow funnels channelling all of their charged energy straight at her.
9
“This castle should be mine, Rowan. They wouldn’t have won the war without Sevenspells, and they know it,” Shiver yelled, not caring who heard them as they charged through the streets.
Rowan grunted assent with his father, his horse coming alongside the lord’s charger. Next came his younger brothers. River nodded agreement, but Eden, trailed by the rest of their retinue of guardsmen and servants, said nothing, simply exhausted and concentrating on their tantalisingly close destination. It had been a good ride. Eden’s mount almost danced as its cantered, snorting into the night, a wisp of cloud forming and quickly dissipating in the air far behind him. This annual march had become a challenge to them all, evolving on from a jovial game between Shiver and the guardsmen to being a full-on race. They left Sevenspells at the same time every year. The challenge was to beat the time they arrived at Everfell. They didn’t stop; the ride was relentless. The first time Eden had experienced this as a boy he had cried in pain for days after. His weakness hadn’t pleased his father, and Rowan had taunted his youngest brother for weeks afterwards. Lord Shiver did not have weaklings in his bloodline.
This year they had made it a full glass earlier than ever before, yet S
hiver was still angry. There was absolutely no way that Eden and his guardsmen would be allowed to rest now. His father wasn’t exactly renowned for his light touch when it came to handling his people. No. Lord Shiver of Sevenspells did not tolerate the weak. He had been waiting outside the city for them to arrive, and had expected them earlier than they’d managed. Eden would no doubt bear the brunt of Shiver’s ire. It would somehow be the fault of his guards that they were tardier than their exacting lord’s had expected.
As they approached the gates to the castle proper, Eden heard a scrambling of hooves and a bloodcurdling scream. He closed his eyes and sent a silent message of sorrow to the spirits to look after the soul of whomever his father had just trampled underneath his warhorse’s hooves. The rest of the retinue galloped around or over the mess; Eden was one of them. He tried not to look down, but in the guttering light of a tall street candle he could see a mangled mess of limbs, lying in directions that should have been impossible. He held his reins tightly and kept his eyes on the streets ahead. He wasn’t likely to hit anyone, now he was at the back of the parade of hooves, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be vigilant. Eden admired his father and wanted to emulate his success in leadership and on the battlefield, but not at the expense of becoming an empty and ruthless husk.
Just before Eden thought they might need to pull their mounts to a halt and wait for someone to open the gates, the massive portcullis began to draw upwards. The doors inside began to creak backwards as their gearings moved as one. Eden heard his father spur his horse onwards to greater speeds, but by the time he had reached the massive gateway, the doors were open wide enough to accept the warhorse and its gregarious rider. As the rest of the party followed at a more sedate pace, Eden smiled to himself. Ross, Vance’s long-serving chamberlain, was well known for his camaraderie with Shiver, and both men enjoyed sparring and testing the reach of each other’s will. Small pleasures in times of peace, Eden mused. It was just as well. Shiver was a man that bored easily. Eden knew he deplored these meetings, with their mundane talk on treaties and peace. Shiver wouldn’t have agreed a truce with Sha’sek, he had claimed many times, he would have settled the matter with the sword. Odd then, that he got on so well with the Baron Sammah. Eden had to accede though, that Sammah had a way about him that some men would obviously find likeable. It was no small wonder that he was more of an influence in court than his lowly title of emissary would suggest.
Eden kept his eyes front and centre as he came through the gates and into the magnificent courtyard. It was just as well they always arrived in the dead of night, as it wouldn’t be done for the son of a lord, even if he weren’t the eldest, to be seen gawping at the surroundings. Everfell, in the main, was built from the grey stone quarried from the mountainous regions near Daggerdale. Dull brickwork aside, the courtyard was a sight to behold during the day, though he didn’t care admit that to his father. It was carefully manicured, now that the king had time to lend his eyes and coffers to such things. It had only come about through ceding to his wife, who had leaned on him for a long time for the women of the court to have something beautiful to enjoy within the city after enduring so many years of war. Eden had thought that to be sweet. He tried to picture his own father giving in to such a whimsical request and failed. Then Eden tried to imagine his mother actually wanting a closely manicured garden to wander around in, and his mind shut down. His mother was every bit as fierce and practical as his father. It was the only way their match and marriage could work.
All of the men, family or not, waited until Shiver had dismounted before following suit. Eden staggered slightly as he slid his feet to the floor, his legs feeling wobbly and bandy after spending so many hours in the saddle. He led his horse by the reins, the animal stomping its hooves impatiently. It had been ridden hard over the last few days, and it did not appreciate Eden bringing it to such an abrupt stop in the middle of such an invigorating sprint. Two stable boys rushed forward to take it away, hesitating and bowing before arguing at which one got to take the reins of such a magnificent beast. Their movements were a catalyst for a horde of helping hands to swoop in and remove the saddlebags and other unneeded belongings from the Sevenspells retinue. Right on cue the massive figure of Ross came ambling in to view, all mountainous efficiency as his broad arms waved his staff across the courtyard. They scurried in a choreographed dance of efficiency. It never ceased to amaze as, without fuss or grandiose gestures, they swarmed and retreated like an army of ants methodically hoarding food into their nest. Within five minutes their horses and goods had been led away, the courtyard returned to the quiet serenity it had enjoyed before they had burst through the gates. The lower-ranked men had been led away too, leaving Shiver, his general, Harn, Rowan, River, and Eden standing in the courtyard.
Eden stood behind both the others. His father and brothers he supplicated to through familial respect. He was outright scared of Harn, and he was sure the grizzled and scarred veteran knew it. Further musings were cut short though, when Ross began the standard greeting.
“Lord Shiver, it is an honour to have you here in—”
“Don’t bother, Ross. I’ve been here for days, and we’ve heard this enough times for it to be boring. You’ve got to repeat it another seven times in the next day. I’ll spare you. Now, not that you’d hear me saying this around the men, but that was a damned hard ride. Are the rooms ready now?”
Ross smiled congenially. “Of course, Shiver. We may as well leave them empty the day before, if you keep increasing your journey speeds at this rate. Did you ride on wolves, and switch to horses just at the city gates so you didn’t scare the locals?”
“If I could harness a wolf I would ride one, no doubt. I wouldn’t want to be caught unawares on my own by one of those demon-laced things. Vile creatures. Come. Let’s have ale a while, then I will let my sons rest. They’ll need it before the king starts boring everyone to death tomorrow.”
The five men laughed. Eden tried to pull a smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to be involved in their aimless mirth. As they walked away, Eden tugged gingerly at Ross’s sleeve.
“I’m sorry to disturb you sir. There was someone caught, ah, on the road on our way in. He didn’t survive. I don’t want someone stumbling across that in the morning.” Eden kept his voice level and low, so his father didn’t hear. This would no doubt be perceived as some sort of womanly thinking.
Ross nodded once, a small grateful smile curling the wrinkled corners of his mouth. “Thanks lad. I’ll make sure some of my boys see to it. Come. You’re near to your father this year. You’re growing up, tall, strong. You’re going to make a fine warrior to follow in your father’s footsteps.”
Eden nodded his thanks. He was tall; the same height now as Shiver. He still had to look up slightly at Ross, but not as much as he had done last year. He was still young enough to keep growing. He was already captain of the guard. And he would become a fine and strong warrior, no matter what Shiver thought.
10
As it turned out, they did not go straight to their rooms, although ale was involved. Shiver enjoyed the attention he got from women as a lord, whether he was away from his wife or not. He got a lot of it. He was a handsome man, Eden supposed, trying to keep the sickened grimace off his face as another maid leaned over his father, taking far too long to pour the ale and smiling far too widely. Ross swatted them away, though they lingered at Rowan before giggling and running off, knowing they weren’t in trouble, happy with their endeavours. Shiver grinned at Rowan before spying Eden’s sour demeanour.
“What’s the problem, boy? You’re a man now, aren’t you? I’m sure more than one of these lasses wouldn’t mind pouring your ale, if you get my meaning.”
Shiver gave him a deliberately slow wink and started bellowing at his own joke. Eden, to force the point, refilled his own tankard. Ross elbowed Shiver.
“Maybe he’s like Augyr’s lad. Wotsisname. I can’t see him fathering too many sons for the good of his line.”
/>
Ross laughed, though there was no genuine humour behind it. Both Shiver and Harn joined in, drawing more attention to themselves from the sleepy staff left up to serve them. Rowan grinned nastily at Eden, though the younger lad chose to ignore that. River looked embarrassed, but didn’t speak out either for or against. Eden felt sorry for most of them, though the serving girls, who Ross had called down from preparing the quarters for the visiting dignitaries, were exempted. They were making the most of their opportunity to entertain men of the nobility.
“I’m expecting more from you lad. Remember that. When I was your age I already had two mistresses. I’ve been told Rowan’s fathered a bastard. Whilst that’s going to cause me and your mother not a small amount of coin in retributions,” Shiver swung a look at Rowan, who merely smirked, “at least he’s showing something of himself.”
One of the maids came back over, prospecting for an empty tankard. Shiver’s wasn’t empty, but he raised it to her all the same, trying to draw eye contact. “He might have another one before the end of the week. I might have another mistress. Who knows?”
The maid giggled, tugging at her low-cut dress to expose even more of her chest, her roughly rouged cheeks and thick eyeliner making her look cheap. Eden twisted his mouth, trying not to vomit. Suddenly he wished he wasn’t quite so close to his father this year, and preferably back in Sevenspells going through drills with his men. Impulsively, he got to his feet.
“I’m going to bed father. It’s a long couple of days. I will see you on the training ground tomorrow.”
Shiver snorted at that suggestion. He clearly wasn’t going to make it to the training ground with the rest of his men. Eden was sure the sun would be up in only a glass or two. It was going to be a tiring day tomorrow, make no mistake.
