by Peter Wacht
Kaylie watched the boys until they disappeared around a corner. “Yes, well, maybe I could. But I’m not sure I want to.”
“Not want to?” asked Jenna in shock, her anger over Ragin’s statement regarding Berral instantly gone. “Even I have to admit that Ragin is quite a catch. He’s handsome. He’s charming. Some say he’s the best swordsman in all the Kingdoms, despite his youth. And he’s a prince! How could you not want to?”
“Well, he is all that,” agreed Kaylie, remembering his wonderful smile.
“Then what’s the problem?” asked Lissa. She, too, couldn’t understand her friend’s indecision.
“I don’t know,” said Kaylie, her expression thoughtful. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s a part of me that says I would be making a huge mistake. He has much to offer, but in some way I can’t describe, he is sadly lacking.”
“Well, if I were you,” said Lissa, “I wouldn’t listen to that part.”
Kaylie shook her head in frustration. What was it about Ragin that bothered her? No matter. She could think about it later.
“Come on. Let’s find Erinn so we can go down to the Festival. These hallways depress me.”
CHAPTER TEN
Daggers
“I think Ragin has taken a liking to you,” said Erinn, who had finally caught up to her friends. The sandy-haired beauty laughed softly. “This is perfect — the Prince of Armagh in love with the Princess of Fal Carrach. It would be the greatest wedding in the history of the Kingdoms!”
Kaylie threw her friend a withering glare.
“Erinn, I’ve had quite enough of that,” she said testily. “I’d like to enjoy the Festival if you don’t mind.”
“A lover’s quarrel?” asked Lissa coyly. “So soon?”
Kaylie sighed in frustration and walked a few steps in front of her friends. They were absolutely impossible! Thank the stars that Jenna was too infatuated with Berral to know right from left. She had gone ahead of the others, not wanting to risk missing her new love compete. Otherwise Kaylie would never hear the end of it, as Jenna was the worst of the lot. Kaylie tried to close her mind to the whispered conversation and giggling that continued behind her.
Try as she might, though, her anger was wasted on her friends. No, the true cause for her current irritation was Ragin. He had no right, absolutely no right, to do what he did, and in full view of everyone! No right! Kaylie’s face reddened at the memory.
She and her friends had met Ragin, Maddan and the other boys at the gate. But since Erinn had not yet arrived, the boys decided to go on while Kaylie, Lissa and Jenna waited. Before going, Ragin had embarrassed Kaylie in a way that she would not soon forgive. Dropping to one knee, he had taken her hand in his own and stared at her with steadfast eyes.
“Come soon, my sweet, for my victory will be nothing without you,” he had said.
Completely taken aback, she had stood there like a fool and let him kiss her hand a second time. Her face flushed even more as the memory played through her mind.
Of course, Lissa had loved it, as did Erinn as soon as she heard. Kaylie was certain that by the end of the day, as the gossip spread throughout the Palace, she would be engaged to Ragin with a wedding planned.
She growled in irritation, startling a mother and her two young children who walked beside her. The woman pulled her children over to a booth, a look of fear on her face. Kaylie sighed, sorry for scaring the poor woman. This trip wasn’t working out as she had hoped.
The Eastern Festival took place every two years, and Kaylie was finally of an age to enjoy it. The last time she was here her father had barely let her out of his sight. This time, though she had more time to herself, he was still much too overbearing, in her opinion. She loved her father — she truly did — but sometimes his overprotectiveness irritated her to an extreme.
A supervised walk through the Festival was not her idea of fun. Nor was the fact that he had refused to let her take part in the dagger competition held the day before yesterday. Just thinking about it set her anger on a slow burn for the hundredth time in two days.
Not trusting her to heed his wishes, her father had accompanied her to the contest. She had sat there in frustration as she matched her skills against those of the other competitors in her own mind. When the event concluded, she decided that she could have won it easily. She said as much to her father, also pointing out that no one had been killed; just a few broken arms and wrists was all, and she was too quick to let that happen to her. He just smiled and offered a noncommittal, “Perhaps.”
That was bad enough, since her father had initially said she could take part then abruptly changed his mind. But having to deal with Ragin threatened to put her in a foul mood for the remainder of her time in Tinnakilly. Well, she wouldn’t let one bad moment ruin her day. People could think whatever they want. Ragin was mistaken if he thought his supposedly gallant display had won her over. Handsome he might be, but there was still something about him that bothered her.
Attempting to put her anger aside, she tried to approach the Festival with a new perspective, surveying all the commotion around her as if for the first time. The colors of the booths and banners bombarded her. Nothing, not even the stools the hawkers sat on while plying their wares, matched anything else. Red, green and purple mixed with blue, pink and orange. It was almost too much for her, as the multitude of colors dazzled her senses.
The Festival was located on the edge of Tinnakilly, where the land sloped down from the heights holding the Palace to a long, flat plain. Most of the merchants and traders from the Eastern Kingdoms made it a point to attend the Festival. One good sale to a noble could mean a contract that would keep them in business for a year or more.
She smiled as she took in the scene before her. Off to her left a very large woman sold candy and treats, while the man next to her peddled pots, pans, teakettles and more. They must have been of very good quality, as fully a dozen women crowded around his stall examining his wares. Another man sold vegetables and fruits just a little farther down the street, and right next door some industrious person had set up a large tent offering ale and entertainment. Kaylie almost swallowed her tongue when one of the serving women stepped out from under the tent. Her blouse did little to hide her ample cleavage. That would explain the huge number of patrons at the bar.
Dozens of stalls lined Kaylie’s path, but with the crowd pressing around her, trying to visit any one in particular proved difficult. She had just passed the tavern when the next booth caught her eye. A blacksmith’s shop, with several beautifully made daggers lining the wood counter. She was about to force her way through the crowd when her friends caught up to her.
“You’re not going to be a stick in the mud the whole day, are you, Kaylie?” Lissa gave her friend a sweet smile laced with vinegar. “We’re sorry. We really are.”
Kaylie looked at her two friends with suspicion. She knew them too well to take Lissa’s apology as sincere.
“Really, Kaylie, we promise,” said Erinn earnestly. “We won’t tease you anymore.”
Kaylie waited a moment before answering, then decided that trying to hold onto her anger probably wasn’t worth the effort.
“All right, but I don’t want to hear about Ragin for the rest of the day.”
Both her friends nodded solemnly, though their eyes twinkled with mischief. Kaylie doubted that they would hold to their promise for more than a few minutes.
“You know, Kaylie, if Ragin or Maddan aren’t to your taste, perhaps another archer,” suggested Lissa.
“Yes, what about that one?” asked Erinn, pointing to a man with a short black beard and long curly hair. He carried a long bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows in the other as he made his way through the crowd toward the archery field at the edge of the Festival grounds.
“You two are impossible,” laughed Kaylie. “If all you do is think about boys, how do you have time for anything else?”
“We do not spend all our time thinking
about boys,” protested Erinn. “There is simply not much else for us to think about except for boys.”
“Well, then, if that’s the case, don’t let me stop you. I’ll catch up to you at the archery competition. I want to stop in that shop over there.”
“Daggers,” said Lissa with thinly veiled contempt, her face screwing up into a look of distaste. “I should have guessed. Come along, Erinn. I have a feeling that our Warrior Princess will be occupied for some time.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Sighting
Kaylie watched her two friends vanish into the crowd, secretly pleased to be on her own. She immediately pushed her way to the blacksmith’s stall.
The daggers actually were of a better quality than she expected, and judging by the prices the blacksmith knew it. The large man, his corded arms bulging out from a long black leather vest, didn’t try to sell her anything, as he sat comfortably in the back of the stall. He didn’t have to. The daggers sold themselves.
She fingered three or four, testing their weight and balance, before one caught her eye. She picked it up and marveled at its beauty. The smooth blue steel shined brightly, the sun glancing off the intricate carvings in both sides of the blade. The handle was wrapped tightly in leather dyed blue to match the blade. It was a rather simple design, but as she hefted the blade, it felt as if it were made just for her.
“How much?”
“Two golds,” replied the blacksmith. He answered confidently, knowing the worth of his work.
It was a hefty price, but Kaylie didn’t bother to haggle. She didn’t want to insult him. Handing over her money she turned away from the stand, grinning from ear to ear. She forgot about the dagger in an instant.
A flash of movement across the crowded street caught her eye. A boy about her own age had just exited from under the canopy of a stall, a bow and quiver of arrows strung over one shoulder. Why he would stand out so, she could never guess. But for some reason, her eyes went to him immediately. He looked remarkably familiar. But why?
His light brown hair was short, unlike the boys she knew. The young nobles and merchants currently wore their hair long. Not only out of style, he wasn’t even particularly handsome. Still, she stared at him for several seconds before realizing that she was about to lose sight of him. Kaylie quickly pushed the dagger into her belt and jumped into the shifting mass of people.
Something teased her memory as she pursued her quarry. Often she was only able to see him because the tip of his bow stood out over the sea of heads bobbing up and down in front of her. The tickle in her brain grew increasingly annoying and her temper worse as the crowd steadily increased in size.
“Excuse me. Pardon me, please.”
Her efforts at civility were wasted. Afraid that she would lose him, she began pushing her way through the crowd. She had almost caught up to him when the street opened up onto the fields set aside for the various competitions.
Standing on her toes, she tried to look above the people in front of her. It was no use. How could he have disappeared like that? Cursing in frustration, she moved with the crowd out onto the playing fields. The tickle in her mind remained. Why would such an unremarkable boy seem so familiar?
Off to the left two massive men greased in pig’s fat tried to throw each other to the ground. The wrestling pit. Certainly not her favorite sport. Off to the right part of the field was set aside for the spear toss, and she assumed the boxing and quarterstaff contests took place in the rings next to it. She scanned the crowd, but with no luck. The boy was nowhere in sight. Not knowing what else to do, she headed for the archery contest remembering the bow across his back.
“Kaylie, over here.”
Kaylie turned toward the voice and saw Lissa and Erinn. They had found a good spot right along one of the rails separating the target area from the spectators.
“We didn’t expect you,” said Erinn. “You wanted to see Ragin’s shooting after all, yes?”
Kaylie ignored her friend’s comment as the two giggled shrilly. If she rose to the bait, the teasing would never end.
“Where’s Jenna?”
“She’s on the other side,” answered Lissa. Her voice turned hot and sultry. “She wanted to get as close to Berral as possible.”
Both Lissa and Erinn laughed wickedly, but Kaylie wasn’t really paying attention. Where could he have gone? She knew him, but from where?
She was certain she had met him before, but her memory was no help. Her lack of success was putting her in a particularly bad temper. Both Lissa and Erinn recognized the look and decided that their teasing should stop, at least for the time being. They focused their attention instead on some of the competitors. Kaylie followed their gaze.
About a hundred men stood in a line out on the field, with just as many targets made of wicker and hay opposite them. A cloth with a bull’s-eye painted on it covered each target. Many of the archers were older, their greying hair and grizzled features telling of experience and skill. Probably soldiers, she guessed. Kaylie began running her eyes over each one when someone blocked her line of sight.
“I’m so glad you came, Kaylie. As I said before, my victory here today would mean nothing if you were not here to see it.”
Ragin reached out for her hand, hoping to kiss it once more, but Kaylie expected the maneuver this time and withdrew her hands from the railing before he could take hold. Her reluctance did not put him off, however. He simply moved closer.
“Don’t you think, Ragin, that before you claim victory, you should first take part in the contest? It looks like you might have some stiff competition,” she said, motioning to the men on the other side of the railing.
Ragin snorted derisively and glanced behind his back at the other archers.
“I doubt they will offer me much in the way of competition. Maddan could probably beat this lot.” Ragin leaned forward against the rail. “Perhaps a sweet kiss for luck?”
Ragin’s eyes were more certain than hopeful — certain that Kaylie would accede to his wishes. He might expect such from others, but not from her.
“From your own words, I doubt you will need any luck today.” Kaylie pulled back from the rail.
“Perhaps afterward, then,” said Ragin, his smile now somewhat forced. He was not used to being refused.
“Archers to your station!”
A young man wearing the clothes of a courtier rode out onto the field on a white horse, his cockeyed hat flopping wildly on his head. On this afternoon he was the judge, rather than performing some menial task for a lord, and he planned to play his role to the hilt.
Ragin bowed slightly to Kaylie, then walked back onto the field to take his place among the others.
“Confident, isn’t he?” said Lissa, who had stood their quietly, listening intently to Kaylie’s conversation.
“Arrogant,” grumbled Kaylie. She continued to sweep her eyes from archer to archer when her breath caught in her throat.
There he was, standing just a few places down from Ragin. He wasn’t very tall, nor did he appear very imposing. Yet, there was something about him that made him stand out. Maybe it was his comfortable stance, the way he leaned against his bow. It seemed as if the bow were more a part of him rather than a tool for his use. His posture spoke of confidence and skill.
He was looking the other way when suddenly, as if he knew someone was watched him, his head whipped around. Their eyes locked together for an instant. Kaylie was shocked by the intensity of his gaze. His green eyes flashed brilliantly and within them lay recognition. She was right. They had met before. Then the wall that had blocked her memories crumbled. It was him! From the Burren and the hill. She knew it for a fact. There was no way to mistake his eyes.
“So who do you think will win?” asked Erinn. “Ragin?”
Kaylie looked over at her friend, a knowing smile on her face. “I doubt it. If I were you I’d pick the boy three places over.”
“Him?” asked Erinn. “He probably can’t even pull back
his bow far enough to shoot an arrow.”
“I’ve got five golds that say otherwise.”
“You’re on,” said Erinn. “If you want to lose five golds so easily, that’s fine by me. I’m putting my money on Ragin.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Test of Character
“Archers, we will begin at 100 feet,” announced the judge.
The minor official pranced his horse down the line of contestants as he repeated himself so all could hear.
“You will have one shot each. If you miss the bull’s-eye, you will withdraw from the line. After each shot the targets will be moved back twenty feet. You will shoot again. We will continue until there is but one left who has hit the bull’s-eye. Good luck to you all.” The courtier then trotted his horse behind the line of archers.
“Yes, good luck to you all,” said Ragin to the men around him. “Though it will do you little good.”
Several of the archers who heard his mocking comment grumbled under their breaths. Thomas simply ignored him, guessing that he had found the arrogant and intolerable Ragin. Thomas had arrived at the Festival in the early morning, leaving Beluil to wander the southern tip of Oakwood Forest. He marveled at all the strange sights and sounds, having never seen anything like it before. During the first hour he had wandered around in a daze, looking at everything at once.
Initially, he felt completely out of place. He was used to the rhythm of the forest, and the milling crowd made him distinctly uncomfortable. After a while, though, he got used to it and began to enjoy himself. He went from booth to booth, examining the jewelry and spices and fabrics and weapons and other trinkets, talking with the vendors and passersby and learning more of the goings on at the Festival.
While examining some of the blades in a blacksmith’s shop he overheard the conversation of several men selecting steel arrow tips and discussing the upcoming archery contest. The conversation always came back to Ragin Tessaril, son of the High King. He had won the competition two years before, and rumor had it he hadn’t stopped talking about it. Thomas quickly gathered that Ragin was not well loved, especially after learning how he enjoyed taunting and insulting his competitors.
