Sword & Flame: The Sara Featherwood Adventures ~ Volume Two

by Guy Antibes

  Obed wiped his face with his hand. “Like that. There is little enough magic in the world, these days. The Goldagles and the Passcolds have some and it always comes out in late adolescence. Barely enough for parlor tricks, but...” Obed looked back at the candle. “magic nevertheless. In my mind, you, my dear, are unquestionably a Passcold. The king can barely light a candle, not as dramatically as you can, and Renall can levitate small items. Alas, I can only make a feather shiver.”

  “I’m afraid I have questions about the details that can only be answered by Lord Northcross,” Sara said.

  “You’ve met the man. Renall’s not particularly easy to approach. But if you are really going to be presented to the King, you should do so as a Passcold heir. Brightlings will revert to you, in any event. If Hardwell dies intestate, you might even be able to claim that estate, with a Royal Dispensation,” Obed casually waved his hand, “It’s been done before. In fact, I’m surprised your mother didn’t apply for one before they chose the odious Hardwell. Too upset and ill advised, I’d imagine. And, Sara Featherwood, you would be an heir to the throne of Parthy.” Handy clapped his hands and laughed.

  “That can’t be true.”

  “It is, if Renall says he’s your father. When the King took the throne, he declared that none of the Passcolds born before his coronation were heirs. That saved him from worrying about assassination for a while. Don’t look so surprised, it happens. If it weren’t for that proclamation, I’d even have a shot at the monarchy.” Handy laughed.

  “Really, the King has an eleven-year-old son but his wife passed away a few years ago. You are the oldest true heir to the throne and if you truly are Renall’s daughter, which is probable, then you are second in line. Noble blood on both sides, which is still a requirement in this day and age. As you know, there have been queens before in Parthian history.”

  Sara nodded. “What do I do?”

  “I can’t help you there, Sara. I’ll draw up a lineage for the King. Your Goldagle blood, alone, will gain you a place in the king’s court. I will establish the possibility of a Passcold link, not specifically that the Duke of Northcross is your father. If it comes from me, the King will consider it. He’ll be able to put things together easily enough. I am worried about any political considerations if there is a confirmed connection, but there is no question that you carry Passcold blood, from appearances alone. I’m sure we’re related, cousin. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.” Handy grinned.

  “If you could see Lord Northcross’ face when he spotted my mother’s portrait. It explains so much.” She lowered her eyes and felt drained.

  “You look tired and shocked. I’ll drive you home myself, Sara.”

  ~

  “Well, the Royal Genealogist,” Willa said as she threw back the drapes. The day dawned clear and the light streamed into her room. “He even brought you, sleeping, up the stairs. He is a strong man. Not like I expected.”

  Sara rose up on one elbow. “He absorbed my entire story, Willa. Everything down to the last detail. Did you know that he’s related to the King?”

  “He certainly looks like one of those Passcolds.” Willa squinted an eye. “You do too, come to think of it. Must be some Passcold blood running through your mother’s side.”

  “Perhaps.” Sara struggled to keep her mouth shut but she had to tell someone. “Perhaps. We had quite a conversation yesterday. Did he leave any papers?”

  “On your dresser, Sara.”

  “No dream, then,” she said. “There is a possibility that my father, Ben Featherwood, isn’t my true father. There is no proof, but it might be Duke Northcross.”

  “The only thing the man is married to is his job, but he’s the best interior minister Parthy’s ever had, they say. Lord Worthy had him in this very house often enough, before his marriage to Grianna. They talked about his lands to the East, close by the mines and forest lands in the mountains that separate Parthy from Belonnia.”

  “Master Handy seems to think the story is plausible, but I’d need Lord Northcross to admit paternity and that’s not very likely, is it?” Sara nervously put a finger to her lips.

  Willa just shook her head. “No. I know that admitting paternity is something a noble does not relish. I would tuck it in the back of your mind and pretend that Squire Featherwood is your father. It’s time you got out of bed or her ladyship will beat you to breakfast.” She laughed as she went into the bathroom to fill the tub.

  Sara smiled and rose to look at the envelope. Handy’s name was written and sealed at the bottom of two letters. One claimed Goldagle blood, the other Passcold blood as well, by a secret father. Another small card fell out of the envelope.

  Handy had provided her with a certificate with full library privileges for one year. That would show Hogsmouth or whatever that odious student-creature who’s who.

  She laid back in the hot tub and gave in to some daydreaming. She pictured herself as the Lady of Brightlings, not because her father designated her as such, but because she actually owned the property. She couldn’t picture herself as Northcross’ daughter, but the mirror in her hand told a different story. She remembered his close-cut curly hair mixed with gray and his piercing blue eyes. She had those eyes. The prospect of being the daughter of a different family, and Seb and Enos as half-brothers, prompted a bout of melancholy.

  A Passcold. She put out her hand and thought of her father. “Ignite!” she said and smiled as a ball of flame appeared above her hand. What more proof did anyone need? She could get used to the idea, but it brought other problems.

  Her mind and heart would never be settled until she knew the truth. The thought of confronting Northcross about such a thing terrified her, but then he did leave her mother in a delicate condition. The fact that they had a relationship wasn’t in question. No one would look at a portrait with such longing out of mere curiosity. Could she actually ask for an audience with the man? He did invite her to meet with him whenever she came to Parth.

  Willa returned to help Sara dress. She didn’t really need the help, but Willa always had something interesting to say and it was a good opportunity to arrange a practice session, as Willa knew the Lady’s engagements.

  “Let’s wear this dress,” Willa held up Sara’s best dress from Obridge.

  “That’s not suitable for Parth. Anyway, the dress has shrunk a bit since I arrived.”

  Willa laughed. “You are still growing, Sara. I don’t know when you’ll stop. Why don’t we buy a few more frocks for you? Perhaps we can see Plant while we’re out. I want to talk to him about Winter’s Rise, anyway. It’s in two days and I have it off.”

  “You’re using me!” Sara smiled.

  “I don’t have to,” Willa assumed her cranky old self. “I enjoy your company more than being on my own all the time.”

  Sara couldn’t resist hugging the housekeeper. “So do I. I’d hate to be cooped up in this house with Lady Grianna’s chronic absences. Perhaps things will settle down after Winter’s Rise.”

  “They always do,” Willa said.

  Sara sat at the dining table for lunch. Lady Grianna appeared dressed and ready to go out.

  “I have wonderful news for you. The king will accept presentations in two weeks. It’s scheduled for Fiveday week after next. Isn’t it wonderful? We’ll have to get you fitted for a proper gown next week. I’m leaving Parth for a party outside the city in a few minutes and won’t be back until the day after Winter’s Rise. Do you mind? I know I promised you a party this week, but it just hasn’t worked out. If you were presented, then perhaps you could accompany me, but you know… Shattuk Downs and all.” She scrunched up her face and probably didn’t even realize the insult she had just given Sara.

  “That’s fine, Lady Grianna. I’m sure I can find something to do. Willa has been very helpful when you’ve been away. We’re going out this afternoon and buy a few more dresses.” Wouldn’t Grianna be surprised if she really were the daughter of the king’s brother and heiress to the
throne? Sara smiled.

  “Oh, please do! Willa is a trusted servant and has served the Worthy’s so well. I’m glad she agreed to assist you while you’ve been here. I’ll just take this little pastry with me. How was your journey to the Library?”

  “It was a trial, but I did succeed in getting in. I was hosted by the Royal Genealogist and have a certificated lineage signed and sealed by Obed Handy.”

  Lady Grianna giggled and clapped her gloved hands. “That’s wonderful and will save us the trouble and expense of getting a heraldry consultant to come up with something. We’ll have so much fun at Court two weeks from tomorrow, then. I must be off!” She hurried out of the room, leaving the doors open to the hall and Sara could see three trunks being lugged out. Lady Grianna would certainly be prepared for her trip.

  ~

  Practice the next morning wore out Sara. Willa’s speed had picked up and it had become more than just working with knives. The stretching part had transformed into calisthenics and the weapons practice had diminished, but only a bit. A maid came to the open door and gave Willa a message, who in turn gave it to Sara.

  She opened it up. “Well, I have a place to wear one of my new dresses. Doctor Hedge has asked me to celebrate Winter’s Rise with him. I wonder if Klark will be there?”

  Willa pursed her lips. “If that were the case, then the young man would likely have sent the invitation. Don’t get your hopes up Sara. I’ll bet the Duke will have him running rings around himself during the holiday. Doctor Hedge will be treat enough.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Sara said, but her heart didn’t accept it. Her visions of walking arm in arm through the freezing streets of Parth had by now exploded into the cold mist of disappointment. “You’ll be all right with Plant?”

  A grin lit up Willa’s face. “More than enough. He has a wonderful family in Parth. My best Winter’s Rise was five years ago at his brother’s. His family really knows how to celebrate, so I’ll be more than fine. You go and enjoy yourself. But before you do, why don’t we get out one of Lord Worthy’s swords and spice up our practice?”

  “That will be a treat for the day before Winter’s Rise.” Sara flexed her knife. “You can be the sword wielder first.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Nine

  Winter’s Rise in Parth

  Hedge came to the door in a joyous mood. “Ah, Sara! Welcome to my little house. I’m afraid Klark is occupied all day, but I have a visitor who you might think to be a poor replacement for Winter’s Rise, but a replacement nevertheless.”

  Sara walked in and removed her cloak, hat and gloves, grateful for the warmth. Hedge led her to the little house’s sitting room.

  “How’s my girl?” Banna said, rising from her chair and giving Sara a big hug.

  “I didn’t know you were in Parth! Are you taking my place with Lady Worthy?” Sara felt a lump of disappointment in her stomach. With the recent revelations about her past, Parth had proven a more interesting place than Obridge and she didn’t want to return just yet.

  “No, and don’t you tell her you saw me. I’m here for a few days, that is all—week’s of travel so I can spend Winter’s Rise with my husband. Perry can’t leave the castle grounds, you know.”

  “I’m a prisoner, don’t you see?” he said with a smile on his face holding his wrists together as mock manacles.

  Banna gave her husband a long look. “More a prisoner than I think you realize, Perry,” she turned back to Sara, “I’m so lonely in Obridge with my husband and my good friend here. It’s worth the trip just to see the both of you.”

  “I’m a bit lonely, too, since home is wherever I sleep.” Sara shrugged. “But now I can celebrate Winter’s Rise in a proper fashion. Had I known you’d be here, I would have brought a present.”

  Hedge sat on the arm of his wife’s chair. “Does that mean you brought a present for me, Sara?”

  “It does. One for you and one for Klark, although he won’t be here.” She got up and pulled two presents from the pocket of her cloak. “A friend of the woman who serves me in the Worthy residence deals in these kinds of trinkets.”

  “We’ll save these for later. First of all tell Banna about your exploits, at Lady Worthy’s and at the Library.”

  “Oh,” Banna said, beaming, “You’ve been to the university library.” She clapped her hands together and turned to her husband. “Perry, it’s so nice to have you around just for the benefit of your connections.”

  “The Royal Genealogist is one of my connections, now,” Sara said. “We’re related.”

  Banna looked at Perry. “She knows?” He nodded. Sara had visited him while on her dress-buying foray into the Parth market and gave him some of the story.

  “I swore to Sythy that I’d never tell a soul and I kept that vow, even if I was sorely tempted to tell you, Sara. Perry is too good a friend to Obed and I’m afraid that the Royal Genealogist isn’t the most discreet man in Parth.”

  “Discreet enough, Banna,” Hedge said.

  “Handy had figured it out. He needed a few confirming incidents and there it was,” Sara said. “Except I don’t quite know who of the brothers is my real father.”

  “Sythy told me about Renall’s pursuit of her hand. Although the king, but you know, he wasn’t the king at the time, spent time with Sythea, as well. They both fell head over heels in love with her. Infatuated. I think the rivalry quite surprised Rennal, you know he was nearly as stuffy then as he is now,” Banna said. “Sythea never said who the father was. All she said is that you had Passcold blood and that she didn’t want to discuss it ever again and she never did.”

  Sara breathed a sigh of relief. If the King were her father, she didn’t know how she’d react.

  “You can imagine the shock to your mother when she was about to inform your real father of her condition, his brother and he were called to Parthy. She knew Terrant would be king and didn’t want to complicate the new dynasty.”

  “So she found a barely suitable husband and that was Ben Featherwood,” Sara said.

  “You do have to admit Ben cuts a fine figure.”

  Sara snorted and had to get back out of her chair. “Fine enough to have attracted my best friend. Did she know what kind of a cad he is?”

  Banna shook her head. “Ben wasn’t a cad back then. He knew he married above him and that he’d have to adapt from the more casual rural life he had led at his father’s prosperous farm. The marriage was an escape for him, too.”

  An escape for her father? She hadn’t stopped to consider that before. Both of her parents were prisoners to their decision—at least until her mother died.

  Hedge rose when there was a knock on the door. “Come in, come in.” Sara sat up straighter thinking that it might be Klark.

  A young man, dressed with an overcoat over a white apron, walked in. “Where do you want me to put this?” He carried a large bag filled with boxes fromThe Pretty Penny.

  “In the kitchen,” Hedge said. “Dinner is about to be served.” Sara could smell the food and became a victim of sudden hunger.

  Banna stood up and went to help her husband set out dinner. “My kind of cooking!” She flashed her eyes at Sara as she danced past.

  Sara watched the couple set the table and lay out the food. She offered to help but her request went unnoticed. After all was set out in a few minutes, Hedge opened a bottle of peach wine and they all sat together at the table.

  Hedge said a Winter’s Rise prayer. Sara never realized he practiced religion.

  “Only on Winter’s Rise, my dear,” Hedge said as if reading her thoughts and then to the both of them with his eyes twinkling. “Now you’ll have to wait another year for piety,”

  Once they helped themselves to dinner, Banna said, “So what is the Women’s College progress?”

  Sara looked at Hedge.

  “She knows about West,” Hedge said.

  She nodded and began to describe the first proposal.

  “How awful,” Banna s
aid. “You will start anew?”

  “I will. I’ve already started even though Lady Worthy has spent Winter’s Rise week celebrating.”

  “And she didn’t even ask you to join in?” Banna looked shocked.

  “Not until I’m presented at the king’s court and that will be soon. Handy gave me a two versions of lineage and one included the likely possibility of a Passcold father.”

  Banna grunted. “The king is smart enough to know your paternity. Look at your hair, your eyes, your height!”

  “Politics may intrude, my dear,” Hedge said. “It mostly always does.”

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Your Goldagle blood will be sufficient,” Banna said.

  “That’s what everyone tells me but I wish I was sure.” Doubts began to cloud up the happiness of Winter’s Rise, but Sara saved one piece of information for last. “I will own Brightlings when I’m twenty.”

  Banna looked accusingly at Hedge. He said, “Handy must not have told me everything.”

  “It’s in the original transfer papers to my mother when she was born. Her oldest child will own Brightlings when they reach maturity. I’ll have my own property.”

  “A cold victory, Sara. You said they don’t like you in Belting Hollow.”

  “I know, but I’ll give it to Enos. I’m not about to let father steal from the estate once I’m the owner. I’ll name a guardian and it won’t be Ben Featherwood. He can stay, of course. As nasty as he is, I wouldn’t turn him out of Brightlings.”

  “Good for you,” Banna said as she looked at the clock. “But enough talk about Shattuk Downs. We have some presents to exchange.”

  The door flew open and Klark stood shivering in the hallway.

  He threw off his coat and gloves. “I hope you left some dinner for me. I’m famished and I only have a short break, then it’s back out to my assignment.”

  “Your assignment?” Sara said.