Rose Victory - Eagle Series

by Eagle Lady

  Eventually the uncanny silence in the Hall hit the boy and his words, his enthusiasm petered out and disappeared. His eyes, still hidden, shadowed by his head gear, roamed the cavernous room and came to rest unerringly on the man standing on the dais by the table. Clearly he saw the giant from the training field. The man the soldier had referred to as the earl, the Lord of Eagle Rock.

  Roydon, in turn, watched the boy avidly. If in truth the child was only nine years old, he appeared tall for his age; tall and skinny. His clothes, ragged and dirty, hung off his thin frame almost in tatters. He could see little else, a large scarf wrapped the lower part of his face almost to his eyes and the large hat that covered his head, totally shadowed his eyes.

  Stefan, who had come to stand beside the earl, laid a firm hand on his arm. “Take it easy, Roy. He could be your sire’s, but it could also all be a big mistake. Don’t get your hopes up,” he cautioned.

  Roydon spared Sir Stefan a quick glance and nodded his acknowledgement at his friend’s concern, then as if to a lode stone, his eyes returned to the boy.

  Licking dry lips the earl spoke softly, quietly, to the child, as if afraid to frighten him. “Come to me, boy.”

  The young boy visibly jumped at the summons. His eyes darted to the old woman seeking advice.

  “Obey your lord, boy.” The stern words from the woman who had always cared for him, somehow calmed the boy, gave him direction.

  Confidently, without hesitation, his head high, the boy approached the dais. Quickly he climbed up to the high table, where the earl, who had come round to the front, awaited him.

  He might be tall for his age, but to Roydon, the boy stood way down below him. Effortlessly he picked the child up and stood him on the bench. Now that they were more on a level, he could see the boy’s aquiline nose, just like his own. At that age, his nose too had seemed too big for his face but later as his face had filled out it had become less intrusive, less objectionable. Roydon was almost sure of the boy’s identity now.

  The tightness in his chest was so overpowering in its intensity that it made him feel invincible and at the same time incredibly venerable. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Do you know who I am?” Roydon tried to keep his voice level in spite of the joy already surging through his veins.

  “The Earl of Eagle Rock. You are my Lord.” A smile touched the earl’s lips and the boy felt glad that his answer had pleased this man.

  “Take off your scarf.”

  The child did not hesitate; quickly he unwound the cloth from his face, until a child-like version of Roydon’s face stared back at the earl, all sharp planes and angles, softened by the touch of youth. Roydon had been expecting it, but still it took him by surprise. His daughters had some of his features, not the more prominent ones, thank God, but this boy seemed to be all him. He could see nothing of his mother in him. If indeed his mother was who he thought she was; who he hoped she was with all his might.

  “Your hat.”

  The boy complied and Roydon staggered back as if he had been hit, full on, by a mace between the eyes. The boy had something of his mother after all.

  Roydon stared in speechless wonder at his son. There remained no doubt whatsoever of who had sired this boy. With an unsteady hand he caressed the boy’s downy cheek. His heart would burst any moment with the joy that filled it. Unshed tears in his eyes, the earl collapsed on the bench.

  “Roy, are you alright?”

  Stefan’s worried face came between him and his son. This was his son, his beloved lady’s son, their son! Roydon could only stare, speechless, at his friend.

  “Do you think he is your father’s then?” Stefan insisted.

  “Mine,” the word felt good, incredibly good on his tongue. “My son.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought you said that…”

  “The lady from the mountain; he is the result of that one night.”

  “But…but how can you be sure?”

  “He has her eyes. Her golden eyes; there can be no doubt.”

  “I am sorry, Roy, but the boy looks older than nine, what if your father also…”

  “Do not even say it, Stefan.” The earl’s voice turned into a growl as he rose to his feet. “The lady was pure when she came to me. Do not ever doubt me on this. The boy is mine.”

  For a moment Stefan stared into the earl’s eyes, then he nodded slowly and a smile broke across his face. “I am glad for you my friend and know that, as in the case of your daughters, your son will always have a friend and protector in me.”

  “Thank you, Stefan. It means a great deal to me to hear you say that.” Roydon turned once again to look at the boy, his son, who still stood on the bench. A frown, identical to the one that on occasion decorated his own brow, marred his son’s. His beautiful golden eyes looked troubled and confused. Would he ever get used to seeing his lady’s eagle eyes looking out of his own face? The earl hastened to clear any uncertainties or fears the boy might have.

  “I am your lord, but I am also your father.” The pride in the words left no doubt in the boy as to the welcome he would receive from this man.

  The boy nodded solemnly, his eyes drinking in the earl’s face. Tentatively he reached out a searching finger and glided it curiously down Roydon’s hooked nose. “We have the same nose, I think.”

  Stefan burst out with a bellow of a laugh. “That you do, boy!”

  “This is Sir Stefan; a close friend, commander of my troops and part of our family.” Ignoring the deep sighs of contentment that the last part of his introduction had brought forth, from both the boy and the knight, Roydon turned to Sir Ivan.

  “And this knight here, who is falling over the table in his attempt to find out what is happening, is Sir Ivan, also part of our family.”

  Ivan, a deep blush covering his face at the accuracy of his lord’s words, came round the table. “Your son, sir?” he asked anxious to confirm what he had only managed to hear in snippets.

  “Aye, Ivan, and near full grown already. Think you he will make me a good squire?”

  “I am to be a squire?” The boy’s eyes glowed with excitement.

  “You, Roy?” Stefan asked carefully. “You know it’s not done, to take your own son to squire.”

  “I have lost the first nine years of his life. I do not plan to send him away to foster and miss the rest.” The earl’s mind was made up.

  “I don’t want to go away.” The boy’s comment caused the three men to glance at him sharply but no one reprimanded him for his forwardness.

  “I could take him on for you, if you like, but I don’t think that would make much of a difference,” Stefan offered.

  “I want to be squire to my father. He is better than you. I saw him vanquish you with the sword.” The boy spoke simply, no insult intended; he just wanted to state his preference.

  Again three pairs of eyes focused on the boy, not only did he barge into his lord’s conversation but he insulted Sir Stefan as well. “Can I get off the bench now?” Without waiting for permission, the boy jumped down and started across the Hall.

  The three men watched him go in mild stupefaction. The boy had no manners and certainly no idea of protocol. Roydon would never have allowed his daughters to get away with such lack of respect; his son would be no exception. Then he realised that he did not know his son’s name, it confounded him for a moment and then he rallied.

  “Son,” his voice just loud enough to carry to the boy, the earl waited for him to turn around. “Come back here.”

  “I am just going to tell Nona…”

  Roydon’s face lost its slightly amused expression. “Now!”

  The boy scampered back immediately. He even got up on the bench. “I only wanted to tell Nona that you are my father and that I am to be your squire. Will I also be a knight?”

  There seemed no way of stopping the boy’s enthusiasm, or his tongue. Roydon tried to keep a stern expression on his face but Stefan, standing behind the boy, shared an amus
ed smile with Ivan.

  “Two things, son. First I need your name and…”

  “Aguilus.”

  The earl started at both the abrupt interruption from his son and the significance of the name. He liked it, it fitted and it made perfect sense.

  “Can I go now?” Aguilus again jumped down from the bench, but this time the earl grabbed him and pulled him back up.

  “No, you cannot go. You will stay here until I give you permission to leave. Do you understand?”

  The boy nodded, apparently perfectly willing to do as his father ordered, but no acknowledgement seemed to be forthcoming. Roydon shook his head as if to clear it. His son’s manners were atrocious. He tried to recall why he had called the boy back. Stefan.

  “Your words to Sir Stefan a moment ago were uncivil and discourteous. You will apologise immediately.” That got rid of Stefan’s smile, just as Aguilus turned to look at him.

  “I did not mean to offend,” the boy said sincerely and then he gave the knight a bemused look. “What did I say?”

  Stefan turned away with a very suspicious choking fit, while the earl managed to keep a straight face, just. “Forget it, Aguilus. Now listen to me.” Roydon captured the boy’s attention by holding him by the shoulders and staring intently down into his eyes. “You want to be a knight, yes?”

  Aguilus nodded eagerly, “Just like you.”

  Roydon tried to ignore the warm feeling in the region of his heart and continued seriously. “Well to be a knight you must first be a squire. As a squire you will not only learn the art of warfare and skill at arms, but knightly courtesies and graces as well. You will learn to respect and obey those in authority over you without question.

  “It is a long and hard road that all knights must travel if they wish to aspire to their spurs. Are you willing to do this?”

  “Yes,” the boy nodded without a moment’s hesitation. “Will I learn to ride too?”

  “All in good time,” Roydon smiled at the eagerness on the boy’s face. “You shall be my squire, but you will also take instruction from both Sir Stefan and Sir Ivan, as well as from whomever else I see fit.”

  Aguilus nodded vigorously again, his eyes shining brightly with excitement. “Can I have a sword?”

  “You have a lot to learn before you can handle a sword.” Then Roydon looked assessingly at the boy. “Can you read, tally?”

  “No. Do I need to, to be a knight?”

  “No, but it does give you an advantage.” The earl pondered for a moment and then his eyes fell on his steward, who still stood guard over the old woman by the fire. He raised his voice, “Master Byran, a moment if you please.”

  The steward walked quickly across the Hall. “My lord?”

  “This is my son, Aguilus. He is to be my squire.” The earl’s commanding voice left no room for doubt or speculation and the steward nodded his acceptance in round eyed bemusement.

  “I want you to provide him with adequate clothing and anything else he might need.”

  “Aye, my lord. I shall see to it at once.”

  “There is one more thing. The boy needs to learn his letters. Do you have the time to see to it?”

  “That will not be a problem, sir. I will adjust my duties to see the task done.”

  “Good. He will come to you every day after the midday meal. I appreciate…”

  “Every day! I don’t…” Aguilus’ eyes were wide with alarm.

  “Silence!” The earl turned a cold stare on the boy. “That is the last time that you will ever interrupt me.” Roydon waited until Aguilus lowered his gaze, then he turned to Ivan.

  “Ivan, please show my new squire to my solar and show him his duties. I would also appreciate it if you started instructing him on his manners, they are atrocious.” Roydon rolled his eyes at his former squire.

  Ivan grinned back. “Of course, my lord, I will do so at once.”

  Before Sir Ivan could collect his charge, the boy spoke up again. “May I see Nona now?” This time he at least waited to receive permission.

  Sir Ivan stepped up to Aguilus and drew his attention. “Please, may I see Nona now, my lord?” he instructed quietly, his eyes seeking out the earl’s for confirmation on the mode of address. At Roydon’s slight nod, the young knight returned his gaze to the boy expectantly. The lessons had begun.

  Aguilus cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Please may I see Nona now, my lord?” he repeated undaunted.

  “You may see her for a few minutes only. Then you are to go with Sir Ivan,” Roydon rewarded the correct address.

  Aguilus jumped down from the bench but before he could get away, he again felt a hand on his arm. This time it belonged to Ivan, who turned him around to face the earl. “His lordship is due your gratitude,” he said in the same quiet and calm voice as before.

  “Thank you…my lord,” the boy hesitated slightly, his father’s words of moments before coming back to him. “Have I your permission to leave, my lord? He asked carefully.

  “Well done, son!” Roydon leaned down and ruffled the boy’s black overlong hair. “You may go.”

  The boy scampered away, happy to have pleased his father, or was it his lord? Aguilus was a bit confused at the moment, but no matter, he had a father now and he was going to be a knight. It was something he had dreamed about ever since he could remember. Having a mother and a father like other boys had seemed an unattainable wish and yet now he had an Earl for a father and he would live in a magnificent castle. Just wait until he told Nona that he would be a knight, just like his father.

  “We are going to have our hands full with that one.” Sir Stefan grinned at the men around him. “He must take after his father.”

  “He is handsome, bright and courageous. Thank you, Stefan. I couldn’t agree more.” Roydon couldn’t take his eyes away from his son.

  “Will that be all, my lord?” Byran stifled a laugh as he backed away at the earl’s nod.

  “Undisciplined, outspoken and unmanageable,” teased Stefan, just to see Roydon jump to the boy’s defence.

  “He knows no better, Stef. But he will learn and he is not unmanageable, you saw how he accepted Ivan’s correction and…” At that moment he realised his friend’s intention and abruptly switched tactics, “and anyway you are only feeling resentful because he preferred me to you after seeing me trounce you on the field.”

  “Not fair, Roy. I was startled, distracted, when I saw your face on a boy staring at me from the crowd.”

  Roydon grinned now; he had been waiting for just that excuse. “A good reason as any to get killed, I suppose.” He repeated the same words Stefan had thrown at him earlier that day and then added salt to the wound. How is your arm, by the way?”

  Stefan smiled good-naturedly at the prod. “Black and blue but fully functional again…”

  “May I see it?” asked a curious voice from below the two giants. The three men turned to stare down accusingly at the boy. “I did not interrupt my lord,” Aguilus defended himself.

  “You do not interrupt anyone; it is bad manners. Let alone barge into your lord’s conversation.” Ivan continued his instruction. “And whenever you address those in authority over you, you will use an honorific of respect. Either ‘sir’ or ‘Sir Stefan’ would have served in this case. Not that you should have ever asked,” he added as an afterthought.

  Aguilus looked at Ivan, a serious expression on his face and then he looked at the earl, who nodded his agreement to the knight’s words. Lastly his gaze fell on Stefan, who looked at him with a gleam of amused speculation in his eyes that seemed to be daring him to assuage his curiosity; he did so want to see the bruises.

  The boy’s golden eyes sparkled with shared conspiracy back at Sir Stefan. “May I see your arm, Sir Stefan, please?” his voice sounded properly respectful.

  The earl’s chuckle swallowed Sir Ivan’s gasp, while Sir Stefan pulled up his sleeve, a wide smile on his face. “He did ask nicely, Ivan.”

  “Wow!” Aguilus raised
a finger to prod at the multi-hued, thickly muscled arm. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not at all.” Stefan drew his arm back quickly, calling into question his words. “Better get going, Ivan.”

  “Yes, sir.” The young knight tried to hide his amusement. “Come along, Aguilus,” he bowed to his Lord and waited pointedly for the boy to do likewise, then he led him across the Hall.

  “I must go check on the afternoon patrol.” Stefan adjusted the sword at his side. “I will see you at the evening meal.”

  The earl nodded, his features taking on a serious expression. “I have some questions to ask the old woman.”

  Stefan debated for a moment and then he shrugged. “Do not expect too much, Roy,” he said at last, clapping his friend’s back before he strode from the Great Hall.

  The earl wasted no time in approaching the old woman by the fire and taking the lord’s chair across from her.

  “You are satisfied, my lord?” asked Nona, a pleased look on her lined face.

  “Aye, the boy is mine,” Roydon stated unequivocally. “What I want to know now is the whereabouts of his mother.”

  The old woman tilted her head to the side, a closed expression descended over her features. “I do not know. As I said before, she had to leave after the child was weaned. She has not returned, although I do know that she watches over the boy on occasion.”

  The emphasis on the ‘over’ had the earl glancing speculatively at her. “Then you know about…?”

  A knurled finger over his lips cut off Roydon’s words. The old woman, in a surprising move that belied her age, leaned over him. “I know nothing, my lord, of that of which must never be spoken. The Lady left when she could no longer keep up her…appearance. She will return when the time is right.” Nona paused, her face set in stubborn lines. “It is all I know.”

  The earl watched as the old woman sat down again, a thoughtful look on his face. “She said the same to me long ago.”