“Of course, she was wrong. When I went back to the room to say goodbye to your mother, you were sleeping on your aunt. Maybe I thought to kill you; it’s been so long, now, I can’t really remember. It was your eyes. You opened them and looked straight to the core of me. They say babies are usually born with blue eyes and then they change colors. Not yours. Yours were as bright and as green as they are today.
“I kept to myself for two years. I didn’t talk to anyone. It simply took that long to come to terms with everything that had happened and to make a plan for the future. You should have seen Robert’s face when I walked into the great hall to ask the council’s forgiveness; that they not take my abandonment of my posts out on you. If it weren’t for him, I’d no longer be a Knight and you’d never have begun your training to become one.”
He nodded as if to reaffirm what he’d previously said. “If you ever get in a bind and I’m not around, he’s the man I want you to go to.”
I frowned. “Does he know?”
“Good gods, no!” He shook his head. He pushed open the door and made his way to his bedroom. I took in the image before me and my heart dropped. He looked beaten. His hair was wet from the mist outside and lay flat on his head, his shoulders slumped, and his steps seemed slow and painful. He stopped by his room and turned to me. “I’m sorry, Chael.”
I blinked. “What for?”
“Everything.” He closed the bedroom door and I considered having a mug of ale before turning in. I thought of the next morning; having to face the princess, the traveling we’d be doing, and decided against it. Whisk whined and laid his big head by mine on the pillow, his tail thumping the floor.
“It’s alright, boy.” I scratched behind his ear, rolled to my side, and forced myself to go to sleep.
Chapter Three
I tightened the cinches and breast plate on my saddle, made sure all my weapons were strapped down properly, mounted Klora, and watched as my father swung onto Klard. A small group of friends had gathered at the gates to wish us good fortune on our journey. I looked toward the sound of hoof beats trotting toward us. The crowd parted to let the nearly white mare and her rider through.
I nodded and smiled. “Princess.”
“Sir Chael, Sir James.” She smiled at my father and pulled her horse up alongside Klora. “I was thinking a goodbye kiss might be in order since we were interrupted last night.” She leaned into me to keep others out of the conversation.
I touched Klora with my spur and tried to act surprised as he danced away from her. “I’m not sure Klora will stand for it and I’d hate to cause you to fall.”
Whisk barked at a cat which cause Klora to rear and jump toward the gates. I waved and gave a salute to Hal, Harry, and Mac.
“To the end, Chael!” Hal gave final wave.
“To the end, Hal!”
The guards at the gates took their cue and swung open the doors. I gave Klora a kick and urged him into a run.
My father grinned. “Well played.” We reined the horses in and slowed them to an easy canter. Whisk barked his approval as well, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his long stride keeping up with the horses’.
“Good gods, Dad, what am I going to do?” I shook my head. “Short of never returning to Gleama, there doesn’t seem to be anything to keep her away.”
He grunted. “She’s a sixteen year old girl. By the time we get back with the book, she’ll be draped over the next lad in line.”
“Well, here’s hoping you’re right.”
By noon we had reached the river. We stopped and watered the horses. Leaning back against a fallen tree, I sighed. Now this, this was what I lived for.
“So what’s so important about this book?”
My father shrugged. “I’m not sure. All I am sure of is that if they sent Shadows after it, it much be important.” He pulled out a block of cheese, broke it in half, and tossed me a piece. “Now, about the princess.”
I raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I thought there was nothing to talk about; that by the time we got back to the palace with the book, she’d have forgotten all about me.”
He grunted. “Do you know, of all the things I had tried to anticipate, this was one that never crossed my mind.”
“Well, you know, dad, some women like brains over brawn.” I grinned and took a drink from my canteen.
He shook his head and ran his hands over his face. “Chael, I’m sorry.”
“Dad, you keep saying that. What for?”
“I, well, for this. For not thinking this far into your future. I spent a lot of time thinking last night and…”
“Dad, don’t.” I waved away his concerns. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”
He frowned, but didn’t argue.
We spent the better part of our journey simply enjoying being out of the city. When it came crowds and the such, I’d taken after my father.
I turned my face up to the sun as we trotted through a clearing. Klora and Klard’s hoofbeats beat against the hard dirt road.
“You know, these woods always make me uneasy.”
My father grinned and glanced at me. “Why is that?”
“I always feel as though I’m being watched. We’ve been traveling almost two weeks now and for the past eight or nine days, I could swear we were being followed.” I looked back along the road and shrugged. Nothing.
“I think that’s your paranoia.”
I grunted. “I’ve a right to be paranoid. By gods, if anyone ever found out…”
“I try not to think about it.”
“Sometimes I used to think aunty might say something to someone.”
Both of us turned quiet, lost in our memories of my aunt and uncle.
“I supposed since there’s just me and you who know, we don’t have much to worry about anymore.” My father tried to smile.
“I wonder if they’ve made any headway in finding out who did it. It doesn’t make sense to me why anyone would want to harm the pair.”
He took a deep breath. “Me neither.”
Klora reared as an arrow flew in front of him, narrowly missing his chest, and planted itself in a tree to our left.
“Woods!” My father gave Klard a kick and turned him away from where the arrow had come from. I followed suit and the two stallions crashed through the bushes. Klard gathered himself and jumped over a fallen tree. Klora matched his sire’s agility and launched himself over it as well. I gave him a quick pat on the neck and steered him through the trees, showing which way to go and letting him pick the way as he saw fit.
“Who was it?” I yelled to my father.
He shook his head and maneuvered Klard around a large rock. “I couldn’t see. I only saw the arrow and it didn’t make sense!”
A tree branch threatened to pull me out of the saddle and Klora moved sideways of his own as he felt my weight shift on his back.
“It was one of ours, wasn’t it?” The picture of the Shadow Knights’ arrow stuck in the tree flashed through my mind.
“It must be goblins. They must have taken down a knight or found the arrows somewhere.”
I ducked and barely managed to avoid another killer branch. “How far until we reach Alexander’s?”
“At this speed, I’d say another hour.” My father steered Klard to the left and I followed suit.
“Do we know who, besides us, might know about this book?”
“If they’re goblins, they’re not after the book. They’re just trying to get the horses.”
I smiled at the thought of a goblin trying to ride Klora. The thought of anyone trying to get on my horse was laughable. In the years I’d had him, no one but me had ever been able to stay on, my father included.
When all signs of pursuit faded, we slowed our mounts and I tried to calm the pounding of my heart in my chest.
“Once we reach the creek, it will be a twenty minute ride to the cabin. He’s waiting for us.”
True to my father’s word, ten minutes later we jumped o
ver a small creek and were soon stopping in front of a small cabin. We dismounted, tied the horses to a tree, and made our way to the front door. A tall man in his seventies opened the door and peered at us suspiciously.
“Who are you?” he barked at us.
“Alexander, sir, I am Sir James and this here is my son, Sir Chael. We were sent by the king to transport the book which is now currently in your possession.”
“How do I know you’re who you say you are and not imposters trying to get your hands on the book?”
“Sir?” I frowned. “Have there been others inquiring about the book?”
He turned his untrusting gaze on me. “Chael, is it?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He shook his head. “What kind of father names his son after the god of bad luck?”
“Well, mine, sir.”
“And are you bad luck?”
“I… I don’t think I am, sir.”
An arrow flew past my shoulder and stuck in his chest. Alexander’s eyes widened, his hands flying up to touch the object penetrating him. My father and I ran forward, both of us grabbing one of his arms so we could drag him back into the cabin.
“That arrow’s one of ours, Dad.” I helped him lay the old man on the floor then reached back for my bow. I looked around the cabin. “I’m heading up. I’ll see if I can’t take them out as they come out of the woods.” I ran up the stairs and settled myself by a window, waiting for someone to show themselves.
“Anything?” My dad’s voice carried up the stairs.
“Not yet!” I could hear him talking to Alexander.
“Chael! Can you see a dresser up there?”
I glanced around the room.
“Find the black leather bound book!”
I shot one more glance out the window to make sure it was clear and ran to the only dresser in the large room. I pulled open the drawers, tossing things out of them in my haste to find this single book we’d been sent to acquire.
My heart jumped in my chest at the sight of an old and worn book with a black cover. The sound of the door bursting open diminished my celebration and I ran to the top of the stairs. I heard my father grunt and the clash of steel on steel. Dropping the book where I stood, I raced down the stairs, slaggens drawn. I met my first opponent with a furious cry. The goblin hissed and ran back out the door as my blade slid over his forearm.
“Typical goblin,” I mumbled. The sound of a sword being drawn put me on alert and I spun to meet this new adversary head on. I blinked in surprise at the man standing before me. I barely had the chance to register the fact that he was human before he lunged at me. I blocked his sword and pushed him back a few steps. His eyes widened behind the black mask he wore over his face.
Somewhere behind me, my father grunted and I did my best to concentrate on the man in front of me. I had a second to see a goblin running down the stairs and out the door with the book. I threw one of my slaggens at the man before me before giving chase. The small, grey skinned being of about five feet cried out in alarm and headed toward the woods. I stumbled forward with the impact of something hitting my back, my entire side flaring with pain, and fell face first into the leaves and grass, rolling onto my back, ready to take on whoever or whatever was coming after me.
The masked man fell onto me, his fist connecting with my face. My cheek exploded with pain and I turned my head, shielding it with my arms. He laughed and threw an elbow at me. Not sure of what else to do, I reached past his arms, laced my fingers behind his head, and pulled him down to me. I brought my head up as hard as I could and heard the telltale sound of his nose breaking. He cried out but managed to pull away from me. He smashed his fist into my face once more before pulling his dagger and swinging it down in an arc toward my side.
He jerked back and missed his aim, his free hand reaching over to touch the arrow stuck in his arm. He stumbled off of me and ran around the cabin, disappearing into the woods behind it. I rolled onto my stomach before pulling myself up to run toward the woods behind me. I stopped short at the sight of a man in a green tunic fighting two goblins.
“Check the cabin!” he yelled as his dagger slipped across one of the creatures’ throats.
I hesitated a fraction of a second before doing what he said. I jumped over the steps and into the house, my one slaggen ready. I spotted the second on the floor where it had fallen. Alexander lay where we had left him, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. Someone groaned and I made my way into the kitchen.
“Dad!”
“Chael.” He tried to sit up.
“Lay down.” I knelt beside him and pressed my hands over the wound on his abdomen. Blood pumped through my fingers and soaked into his clothes. “By gods, Dad!”
“The book…”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Dad. One of the goblins ran off with it.”
“You need to get it…”
“I’ll get it. I promise.” The tears welled in my eyes.
“Chael…” He fought to open his eyes. “This wasn’t your luck. It’s never been your luck.”
“It was supposed to be better. My luck was supposed to change.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks with my arm and tried to press harder on the wound. I swallowed hard. “Stay with me, Dad. Please. You and me, we’ll get you out of here. I’ll find a healwife.” The tears were starting again. “It’s always been you and me.”
My father blinked his eyes and managed to focus on me. “It wasn’t your luck, Chael’s luck…” He took a ragged breath and groaned at the pain. “The day you were born… it took me years to see clearly and by then, it was too late. I thought I had the worst luck the day you were born. I was wrong. I should have told you. I should never have made you be someone you weren’t. You shouldn’t be a Knight…”
“You’re wrong, Dad. I should be a Knight. I am a Knight.” I brushed the hair out of my face. “I’ve loved my life. I do.”
His head lolled to the side and he managed to right it. “Chael… a… I…” His final whisper barely left his lips before his body relaxed.
“No…” I set his head down as sobs raked through me. The sound of Klora’s nervous whinny put me on alert and I took a deep breath to try and pull myself together. I pulled an arrow from my quiver and notched it before plastering myself to the door frame. Whisk’s deep growl turned vicious.
“Hey, now, good pup.”
I peered curiously at the man that had saved my life. One of his eyes was swelled shut and he’d managed to get cut along the top of his thigh, though not too deeply it would seem due to the lack of blood soaking into his dark brown pants. His dark green tunic also had spots of blood on it. I didn’t think any of it was his. He brushed the dark blond bangs out of his eyes and reached into his pocket.
Whisk continued to bare his teeth, seemingly unaware of the fact the stranger could have been pulling a weapon. I let my arrow fly and smiled as it dug into the tree just inches from his face.
“I’m quite fond of that dog. I wouldn’t do anything stupid.”
He looked up and light grey eyes met mine. He smiled and proceeded to pull a piece of jerky out of his pocket. Whisk quickly put his teeth away and sat, his tail thumping the ground. I rolled my eyes.
“Whisk, you’re a traitor.”
“My name’s Ian.” He patted Whisk on the head. I turned and walked away, ignoring his shout of ‘wait, son, I want to help’. I sat by my father’s body. I registered the man’s light footsteps coming into the kitchen and I tensed, my hand on my dagger should I need it. I looked across my father as he sat.
“My name’s Ian.”
“Chael.” I tried to keep the tears from spilling from my eyes.
“Was this your commanding officer?”
I nodded then shook my head. “Yes. He’s my father.” I could tell he was observing me. “What?”
“I was just thinking you look a bit young to be a Shadow Knight.”
“I’m eighteen. I’m just small.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
“Do you want help to get him onto a blanket?”
I nodded, unable to get any words past the lump in my throat. Ian moved to his head and I took my father’s feet in my hands. We laid him under one of the large apple trees.
After rummaging through the shed, Ian was able to find two shovels.
“Do you have any particular spot in mind?”
I nodded. “The cherry tree. My mother’s buried under one.” I tried to take solace in the fact that my parents could finally be together again after such a long time apart. I stabbed my shovel into the ground.
By the time the hole had been dug, I was aware my side was throbbing horribly. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the pain. Ian sat to catch his breath.
“Are you alright?”
I bent over to ease myself to the ground and cried out as the throbbing turned into a sharp pain. Ian rushed to my side helped me onto my back. A nervous shiver ran through me at the shocked look on his face.
“What?”
His eyes wide, he lifted the hand he’d had under my back so I could see it. It was covered in blood. The memory of the pain as the masked man had tackled me, stabbing through my thick leather vest flashed through my head. I realized Ian was pulling at the laces that held my vest together. I slapped his hands away.
“Leave it. I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding. Now take the damn thing off so I can have a look at it.”
I shook my head. “Help me get my father in his grave first.” I sat up and quickly lay back down as spots swarmed my vision.
“Chael!” Ian swore under his breath, something to do with Chael’s luck, and I tried to protest as my vest was pulled over my head. This was quickly followed by my tunic.
Ian paused for a fraction of a second before turning me onto my side to inspect the wound. He pressed his hands over the wound and the last thoughts I had before I passed out from the pain was that this man must have amazing self-control not say anything about what he’d just seen.
*****
The crackle of the fire was my first indication I was alive. The next was the pain that raked through me when I tried to sit up. A hand pressed me back down to the mattress.
Chael's Luck (A Knights of Dorathan Novel) Page 6
