by Eagle Lady
At that moment even he remained unsure of his sanity. The urge to follow that bird up into the mountain remained with him. He felt an ache deep in his chest that spoke of loneliness, a hole that needed to be filled and at the same time overflowed with anxiety. He must be going insane if looking a bird in the eye could make him feel like this.
Resolutely he dragged his eyes away from the mountain and the three eagles that were once again circling the summit. Even that was strange. Only two adult eagles had ever inhabited the mountain at any one time. Eagles mated for life and were very territorial. Yet now a second adult female had joined the pair, he had never heard of this happening before.
The earl shook his head and ascended the steps to the Great Hall; he needed to speak with his steward. Trying to ignore the heavy lump of desolation weighing him down, Roydon walked into the dark entrance of the castle.
<><><>
Roydon sat on the only high-backed chair in front of the huge fireplace in the Great Hall waiting for Brecov. A servant had just handed him a goblet of sweet wine when he observed the steward approaching. As if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, he saw neither his father’s steward nor the man who had taught him his letters. He saw a frail, old man who had spent his life serving his family, a man who had watched him grow up. And he had been scared of him yesterday. Well not scared of him, he hoped, but of his reaction.
He had a temper, yes, Roydon would be the first to admit it, but after the first blaze it settled into a controlled simmer. A simmer, he remembered that he had usually gone up into the mountain to calm. The peace and tranquillity to be found in the wilderness had called to him when he was a young boy; it had soothed and comforted him.
Why could he not go now? Take a day or so to calm himself, to came to terms with the unexpected turn of events. He would go he decided.
The moment he made the decision, the strange feeling inside him abated. It became a vague shadow of what it had been, but there nevertheless, a persistent feeling of something that needed to be done riding low in his belly.
“You sent for me, my lord?” Brecov’s question interrupted Roydon’s thoughts. “I wish to beg your pardon for my conduct yesterday. I should have brought those documents to your attention sooner.”
The earl shook his head as he waved the steward towards one of the stools opposite his chair. “Please take a seat. There is no need to seek my pardon. The fault is as much mine as yours for not keeping a firmer hold on my temper.” Roydon held up a hand to stop the old man from speaking. “But you should also know that you have nothing to fear from me. You have known me since I was born. Your loyalty to Eagle Rock is unquestionable and your position in this household valued and honoured.”
There were tears in Brecov’s eyes. “It’s true that I have known you all your life, my lord and I do not fear you for I know you. What I feared was your reaction. I failed in my duty, sir. It was cowardly of me, I should have told you sooner.”
“Think on it no more, it is over. Now we must deal with saving Eagle Rock.”
“This morning Sir Stefan gave me…”
“I know,” Roydon interrupted, a slow burn suffusing his face at having to accept his friend’s coin. “It is all he has and will be treated as a loan, to be returned as soon as funds are available.”
“That is not what he said, my lord.”
“But it is what I say that counts,” the earl said forcefully. “And it is on that condition that I accept his coin.”
Brecov nodded. “Yes, my lord. I will keep a careful accounting.”
“See that you do and as to the spending of it, the seed for the spring sowing and the soldiers’ fees, I think, are the most urgent.” Roydon took a deep breath. “The rest will have to wait until we receive the dowry.”
“Your lordship will honour the betrothal contract?”
“There is not much else I can do.” The earl’s hand tightened on the empty goblet in his hand.
“You would have taken a wife eventually, my lord.” The steward ventured to console his master.
“It would have been my choice, Brecov. After what I have seen at the king’s court, I would have liked to choose my own wife.”
“Your father will have chosen wisely, my lord.”
“I suppose so,” the earl rubbed a callused hand along the back of his neck. “The dowry is certainly generous enough, the lady on the other hand…” Roydon broke off abruptly, realizing he was speaking inappropriately of his future bride. His face lost its pensive expression and the mask of impassivity that he had perfected at court dropped into place.
“I want you to send a fast messenger to Lord Reinhart immediately. Advise him that I will come to claim my bride in a week’s time. Also explain that due to my father’s death I require a quiet wedding, but wish to honour the contract he made in my name as soon as possible.” The earl debated for a moment. “Ask Sir Stefan to provide an escort for the messenger. I want no mishaps.”
“He will leave within the hour, my lord.”
The earl nodded his approval. “There is another matter that I wish carried out as soon as possible.”
“Your lordship has but to inform me of your wishes and I will see them carried out,” the old man said simply.
“With the arrival of my…wife, doubtless your duties will increase. I want you to take on an assistant.” A myriad of emotions crossed the steward’s face in but a few seconds; surprise, confusion, despair. The man thought he was being replaced. “I but try to lighten your load, Brecov.”
“I might be an old man, my lord, but I am still capable. I do not need help.” The old man’s pale blue eyes clouded with resignation. “I have displeased you.”
“Nay, it is as I have said.”
“But…”
“Are you arguing with me?” The earl raised an eyebrow, his face stern. “Questioning my motives, my decisions?”
“No, my lord, of course not!”
“Good.” Roydon nodded and settled back in his chair. “I want someone reliable and honest, capable and above all loyal. Know you anyone who would please me?”
The old man just stared at the earl in defeat.
“I am not replacing you, Brecov.” Roydon almost shouted in exasperation. “As I said before, your service to Eagle Rock and to me is invaluable. Now stop this foolishness!”
Brecov nodded, taking heart from the earl’s words. His body might be old and feeble but this was his home, the position in this household his life and he still had a lot to give. “My brother’s son, my lord. He is young, just seen twenty summers but he would welcome the opportunity to better himself.”
The earl nodded again. “I trust your judgement. Bring him to me immediately after the midday meal; I will be leaving soon after.”
“You are leaving, my lord?”
“I will be spending the night on the mountain.” The earl’s expression invited neither comment nor argument.
Brecov took heed. “I will see to the messenger, my lord.” He rose slowly to his feet. “Will that be all?”
“Yes…no.” Roydon contradicted himself. “Have someone bring me the betrothal documents.” He could at least acquaint himself with them.
“I will have them delivered to you at once, my lord.” The steward turned and made his slow way across the Great Hall towards the estate chamber.
His father should have seen to lightening Brecov’s duties long since, the earl mused, as he contemplated the old man’s departure. A few minutes later a servant appeared at his side, with the documents he had requested clutched in his hands. The man handed them over quickly and glanced with a mixture of nervousness and relief towards the opposite side of the Hall. Roydon followed his gaze and saw Brecov disappear once again into his chamber. The steward had not wanted to lose sight of the important documents until they had arrived safely in his hands; which was typical of the conscientious and loyal servant.
<><><>
“Your people are waiting for you to start their meal, Roy. What i
s it you read?”
The earl looked up startled. He had been fully immersed in acquainting himself with the details of the betrothal contract and had not even noticed Stefan’s approach, let alone the hungry people who awaited his leave to fill their bellies. He signalled the head server to begin the meal and turned to his friend. “I am looking over my betrothal contract.”
“Your betrothal?”
Roydon had not noticed his squire either, who now stood open mouthed, beside Stefan. He nodded curtly at the boy but did not reply, as he rose and led the way to the Lord’s Table. Behind him he heard Ivan trying to wheedle answers from an uncooperative Stefan.
Finally seated at the table, the earl turned a cold stare on the boy. “You forget your duties, Ivan. My cup is empty.”
“I beg your pardon, my lord!” Ivan leapt forward to fill his lord’s goblet with ale from a pitcher on the table, his face a picture of curiosity, alarm and shame.
Roydon took pity on him. “We leave for Northolt, stronghold of Lord Reinhart, in a few days.”
“We go to Rabid Reinhart’s castle?” The squire almost dropped the pitcher he held, his face had gone deathly pale.
Sir Stefan cuffed him lightly on the side of the head. “Mind your words, boy! He is the king’s earl, just like your master and he does not take kindly to that name.”
The blood returned with a vengeance to Ivan’s face. “I am sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect but why…?”
Stefan’s attempt to control his features failed utterly, a grin broke through. “Your master goes to marry Rabid Reinhart’s daughter!”
Now it was Roydon who leaned across and cuffed his friend, and not lightly either. It was true that Reinhart was known by that name and rumours abounded, yet Roydon, who had met him on several occasions, had never seen any sign of viciousness from the man. Cold, yes, hard and unbending too; he ruled the north, in the king’s name, with an iron fist.
“Forgive me, Roy. It was a jest in bad taste.”
The earl nodded at his friend and turned once again to his squire. “We leave for the north as soon as I return from the mountain. It will take at least a week to get to Northolt so pack my things accordingly and remember to take along something appropriate for the wedding. We wouldn’t want to offend the earl or his daughter.”
“You are going up the mountain, Roy?”
Roydon nodded while he continued to eat.
“You will need an escort. I will make arrangements.”
“No escort, Stef. I go alone.”
“But it is dangerous up there!” The knight was deadly serious now.
“I go for the peace and the solitude; I want no guards disturbing me. Besides I can take care of myself. I have been up that mountain countless times and I will be back by tomorrow.
Sir Stefan shook his head unconvinced. “As you wish,” he conceded reluctantly.
“May I come with you, my lord?” Ivan spoke from behind the earl’s chair.
Roydon debated for a moment, and then shook his head. “Nay, maybe next time. You have your orders. Have everything ready, we leave the day after I return.”
The squire bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”
Satisfied, the earl returned to his meal, only to look up a moment later to see Brecov standing outside the estate chamber. Beside him stood a short, young man, who stared at him as he turned the hat in his hands over and over. The moment the man realised that the earl watched him, Roydon saw a blush suffuse his round face, even as he lowered his eyes in deference.
“There is something I must see to.” Roydon rose from the table. “Ivan, see to preparing a small parcel of food and a couple of blankets for me,” he ordered, before he strode across the Hall towards Brecov.
“Is this your brother’s son, Master Brecov?”
“Aye, my lord, Byran is his name.”
“Rise, Byran.” The earl spoke to the young man who had fallen to his knees at the nobleman’s approach.
Byran rose but kept his eyes downcast, so that all that Roydon could see was a thatch of carrot orange hair and bright red ears.
“Follow me, Byran. I would speak with you.” Roydon turned and led the way to the hearth. After a desperate glance at his uncle, the young man followed, until he stood head bowed before the earl.
“You have something to hide, Byran? Something you are ashamed off?”
Startled green eyes looked up at the earl for a moment. “No, my lord!”
“Then look at me. I do not like to converse with a head of hair,” the earl said lightly and smiled when Byran jerked his head up. “Much better, now I can see who I am talking to.”
“I did not wish to offend, my lord.”
“You’ll not offend me by looking at me, Byran. Although I concede that craning your head back so far is uncomfortable.” The earl towered more than a foot and a half over the young man.
For the first time a smile flirted across Byran’s face, but he kept his eyes on the earl’s face as the latter took a seat.
“Tell me about yourself,” Roydon leaned back in his chair.
Byran continued to demolish the hat he held in his hands. “There is not much to tell, my lord. I am a freeman, like my father, who holds a piece of land from your lordship. I am the youngest of three brothers and have spent all my life helping to tend the land beside my father and elder brother.”
“Your other brother?”
“He chose to be a soldier, my lord. He serves in your ranks.”
“I see,” Roydon stared intently at the man before him. “From your words, I gather that soldiering is not for you, but then I think that farming is not to your liking either. Am I correct?”
Byran hesitated briefly, “Yes, my lord. But how did you know?”
“You said that you ‘helped’ to tend the land, you disassociated yourself from it. The words you use are important.” Abruptly the earl changed the subject. “Why are you here? What did Brecov tell you?”
“He said your lordship wished him to have a helper and I would be grateful for the position, sir.”
“Is that all he said?” Roydon cocked his head to one side, his dark eyes watchful.
Again Byran hesitated, as if unsure of how much to say. “He also said that he thought you were going to replace him, my lord.”
“And if that were the case?” the earl challenged, his eyebrows drawing together.
Byran crushed the now useless hat in his fist and bit his lip, but answered readily enough, a thread of barely concealed anger in his voice. “That of course is your prerogative, my lord. But my uncle is well and able to continue his duties and I would not accept the position if that is your intention.” The young man squared his shoulders and looked the earl straight in the eye. “I owe my uncle much and I would not betray him so.”
“Well said, Byran! I value loyalty above all else and you have proved yourself worthy.” The earl’s face relaxed and Byran felt like he could breathe again, he did not know where he had found the courage to stand up to his lord.
“My intention is not to replace your uncle but to give him aid. I want you to lighten his load.” Roydon paused weighing his words. “You will learn his duties and in the event he ever wishes to retire, and we find you worthy, you can take over the stewardship of Eagle Rock. Do you accept the position?”
“Only when he wishes to retire?”
“That is so. Master Brecov is a valued member of my household and I would not have it otherwise.”
“I will gladly accept the position, my lord.” Byran’s face split into a wide grin, even though colour again suffused it. “You have my deepest gratitude as well as my loyalty, sir.”
“I will accept nothing less than your full loyalty, so be warned and do not sell me short.” The earl rose, his face stern. “Go now to Master Brecov and inform him of my decision. He will give you your duties.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Byran backed away and then nearly run across the Hall to the steward’s chamber.
“Here are t
he items you ordered, my lord.” Ivan had been standing beside the earl’s chair for a while and now he handed over a heavy satchel. There was a wistful look on his face.
“How much food have you put in here, Ivan?” Roydon slung the bag over his shoulder. “I will only be gone for a day.”
“I thought I could come and…”
“And I thought I had already given you your orders?” The displeasure in the earl’s voice did not go unnoticed by the squire.
“Yes, sir.” Ivan hung his head. “I will have everything ready when you return”
“See that you do,” the earl said coldly, then he relented somewhat. “I will take you up with me next time.”
Roydon did not hear the boy’s reply; he already strode towards the door. The urgency he felt to start his climb, to ascend his mountain, a throbbing ache in his body as well as in his mind.
Something pulled at him, urged him on and he could not understand or explain what was happening to him. All he could see, at the back of his mind, were those golden eagle eyes beckoning him to follow.
A feeling of angry impatience swamped him the moment he stepped through the door. At the bottom of the steps Stefan waited for him, already mounted. Beside him, a soldier held the bridle of one of Roydon’s horses.
A frown marring his face, the earl descended the steep steps to the bailey. “You are not coming with me, Stefan,” he stated categorically, before his friend could utter a word.”
Stefan smiled easily. “I wasn’t planning to. I just thought to save you some walking and then bring your horse back.”
Roydon looked away disconcerted. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he mounted his horse. “I am not myself today.”
“Believe me, I have noticed! As have all the rest of your people.” Stefan walked his horse towards the gate that gave access to the middle courtyard, abreast of the earl’s horse. “What is going on, Roy? I know you have reason to be upset but that does not explain your mood changes or this obsession you have with birds.”
“Not birds. Just that eagle.”
“So you admit it.” There was a mixture of worry and confusion on Stefan’s face as he glanced at his friend.
