Aeden looked at him. “It’s odd. Heavy use of magic causes those symptoms. It means that your body used its own resources to heal itself.” She shook her head. “Magic usually doesn’t happen unless the mage calls for it. We need to study this closely.”
“I thought maybe you could see if any traces of whoever might have done this were left on the obstacle course,” he said.
“Good thought. Let’s go now and see.”
Thomas followed Aeden from the salle. They made their way along the path to the first obstacle. At the sight of spongy ground on the far side of the first jump, Aeden shook her head. “No way to tell anything from this. Anyone could have dumped water here.”
At the roll-over log, Aeden stood for a long time, arms extended, and palms down, sensing who might have touched the log or the sharpened pieces of metal. After several minutes, she lowered her arms and turned to Thomas. Her face was grim.
“It is Calen, Tristan, Eagan and Newlan,” she said heavily. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “We might as well go back to the Keep and let Gregory know. This needs to be taken care of, now.”
§ § §
“Bring the prisoners to the great hall,” Thomas ordered the two guards stationed on either side of the door into the great hall. Captain Mathin stood next to him, his fingers white knuckled as he strangled his heavy belt, legs spread. Teeth clenched, lips flat, brows lowered, he looked like he wanted to kill something.
“What am I supposed to do with them?” Thomas asked. “They are noblemen’s sons! I want them punished, but I don’t think I can just send them home like Garan.”
Thecaptain pursed his lips, let go of his belt and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Lad, you’re right. They are indeed noble born, so best to send them to the King. I think you should let him judge them.”
Thomas gave a sharp nod. “Good idea. Thank you.”
Two guards jerked the four squires into the great hall. The weight of the manacles binding their wrists pulled their hands down below their waists. The clash of their ankle chains filled the room as they were forced to move their legs in unison.
The guards shoved them into a ragged line in front of Thomas. He sat in his father’s chair, his sword resting across his lap.
“Lady Aeden discovered your treachery. You failed in your attempt to harm me or anyone else, if that was your goal. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”
The young men stood silent, still defiant in their captivity. They hadn’t counted on Lady Aeden and her magic.
Thomas shook his head in disgust. “You were well treated here. Your betrayal is beneath contempt. I wish I could have your punishment, but wiser thinking has prevailed.” He nodded at Captain Mathin with respect.
“You will be taken in chains and under guard to Cathair Ri. The King will judge you and decide your punishment.”
All four faces went white. Eyes wide, they looked at each other. No one said a word.
Calen looked at Thomas with narrowed glittering eyes, a snarl twisting his mouth. His hatred was evident, but he said nothing.
“Take them away,” Thomas ordered the guards.
Chapter 15
October was two days away and cold, ice, and snow should have blanketed the country. Instead, the weather held frigid but dry. Against all tradition, the Ciardha sent raiders who had been turned from vassals to monsters ripping at the outlaying farms, burning homes and killing stock and freeholders.
Lady Aeden pushed Thomas relentlessly, demanding that he learn how to use every weapon in the armory as well as unarmed combat. Coupled with that training, half of his time was spent with Gregory, learning about contracts, negotiations, and Keep management.
What little time remained, he, his brother, sister, and cousins spent reading old records, looking for answers to desperate questions. He often felt like a top, spinning out of control. Every night he fell into bed exhausted.
Thomas walked into his room following a full day of weapons training, lessons and practicing statesmanship. He unbuckled his sword belt as he walked to its rack, hung it up, turned and fell onto his bed, arms spread wide.
I hurt. I can't do this anymore. Why did I ever want to learn to fight? He whimpered. Every muscle in his body seemed to throb in time with his heart. I wish my healing power, whatever it is, would stop these aches. Ha.
He was sweaty and covered in dirt. He flipped to his side and groaned. I've got to get ready for dinner. Bath first. He rolled over and pushed himself up from the bed.
He looked at himself in the mirror that hung on the wall next to the wardrobe. The sleeves of his shirt were getting shorter by the day, and his wrists stuck out by at least two inches. His trousers seemed to be shrinking too. He'd soon have to ask for larger clothes. He had grown taller. His arms and legs had muscles that he hadn't seen before.
He pulled off his trousers, shirt and tunic, tossing each piece over the waiting chair. His chamberlain would take them to be cleaned. He shrugged into his robe, grabbed a towel and headed for the bathing room.
Owen pulled open the door of his room and rushed out as Thomas strode past. He was as filthy as his brother. “Thomas, Lady Aeden said that we could spar together tomorrow.” His voice tended to squeak up when he was excited. Thomas grinned. Owen had grown taller, too, over the past weeks.
“Good! I've been watching while you practiced. You're learning to whack the training dummy almost every time.”
“I really like doing that. Aeden says that I'm good with knife fighting too.”
They reached the door to the bathing chamber, and Thomas pushed it open.
Cameron and Evan were both there, ready to take their own baths. They had been set as pages to Thomas and Owen, so they wore the same dust, dirt, and contusions as their cousins. They were learning how to clean armor and take care of the horses that the fighting men used. It was hard dirty work, and they loved it. They'd been considered too young to do any of it at Falcon’s Spire.
The room was pleasantly warm after the chill of the hallway as a large fire burned in the fireplace across from the door. Four beaten-copper tubs were filled with warm water heated in a huge cauldron suspended over the fire. The boiling water helped keep the room warm.
Thomas dropped his towel on the bench along the left wall and stepped into the tub nearest him. He breathed a sigh as he lowered himself into the hot water. Muscles began to loosen. Cameron, dark blond and thin as a rail, laughed as Owen ducked completely under the water. Evan, bright blond and sturdy, washed quickly.
“What’s your hurry, Evan?” Thomas asked.
“I’m going to the kitchen for a snack before dinner,” Evan answered. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Thomas exclaimed.
“Thomas, have you heard anything from Mother or Father?” asked Evan.
“I'm sorry Evan. I haven't heard anything about them,” answered Thomas. “We just need to keep training and get ready to help.”
Dejected, Evan bowed his head and went back to washing.
Owen jumped out of his tub and went to the cauldron for more hot water.
“Owen, can you get me some?” Thomas asked.
“Sure!” Owen laughed. He grabbed a bucket, filled it, walked over and poured some into each tub, deliberately hitting bare chests. Squeals of outrage echoed through the room.
Thomas leaned back and just relaxed.
“I've heard the soldiers talking about Demons. They said they are really hard to kill, and that they run right up swords and spears,” Cameron informed them.
“I heard in the village that there are ghosts in the undercroft. Skullies are afraid to go down there,” Owen added, trying to take control of the conversation.
The dinner bell tolled through the Tower. Water sloshed over the sides of the tubs as all of the boys stood up and stepped out. The overflow drained toward an opening cut in the floor and was carried away by piping on the side of the Dragon Tower.
Came
ron snapped his wet towel at Owen. Owen howled and jumped on Cameron. Laughing, they rolled across the wet stone floor.
“Hurry up, you guys,” Thomas shouted. He finished drying, wrapped the towel around his hips, swung his robe around his shoulders and pulled the door open. He sprinted down the hall to his room. The floors were cold!
Once in his room, he jerked on the trousers laid out on his bed, pulled on house-shoes and shrugged into his shirt and tunic. Simon had already come and gone.
Thomas headed out of his room, pulling the heavy door closed behind him. Night came early this time of year, as did the chill in the hall. Best to keep the warmth inside the room.
Magelight flickered in globes set into iron brackets on the wall. No one knew how the lights were made, what kept them burning all the time. No smoke rose to the ceiling to fill the Tower with throat-choking stench. Magelight glowed all the time, making the Tower corridors easy to use. No shadows hid people or ghosts.
Thomas took the narrow stairs that curved to his left two at a time down to the main hall. Savory smells of roasting pork and potatoes made his mouth water. Reaching the bottom, he stopped and pulled his shirt and tunic straight, trying to make the sleeves longer. He shook his head and walked to the head table.
Breanna and Owen hurried down the stairs after him. Owen sat on Thomas’s right, Breanna next to Owen. Cameron and Evan skidded into the hall, then walked sedately to the table. They took their seats on the other side of the two center chairs reserved for the Lord and Lady.
Skullies brought trays of food to the table under the watchful eye of Gregory.
Thomas stabbed a piece of sliced mutton with his belt knife and folded it into his mouth. Juices from the meat dribbled down his chin. He used a finger to wipe them up and into his mouth. His wooden goblet of water was soon emptied. The others made quick work of the meal.
“Gregory, Captain Mathin. I'd like to talk to you both after dinner, if you don't mind,” Thomas said, wiping his chin. Gregory gave him a sharp look.
“Of course, my Lord, as soon as dessert is done. Jalyn has peach pudding for us tonight,” Gregory replied.
Chapter 16
Skullies worked to clear the dishes from the tables following the meal as the others arranged themselves in front of the fire, playing table games and reading lessons.
Thomas followed Gregory and Captain Mathin through the arch on the right-hand wall and turned left down the hall to Gregory's office.
Gregory pushed the door open and waved toward the brown damask wingback chairs placed in front of his desk. Mathin and Thomas sat.
“How may I serve you, my Lord?” Gregory pulled a pipe from his belt and filled it with tobacco from the leather pouch belted at his waist as he spoke. Tamping the tobacco into the bowl with his thumb, he walked to the fireplace where a fire burned to warm the room. He bent and touched a taper to the fire, then lifted it to the bowl of his pipe.
He drew air through the stem of the pipe, shook the flame from the taper and tossed it into the fire, turned and walked to the chair behind the desk. Smoke curled toward the ceiling. He brushed ash from the front of his gray-brown tunic and sat down.
“We’ve caught traitors living here and ended that threat,” Thomas said. “Captain Mathin stopped me this morning after quarterstaff practice and told me that he has received reports of raiders or Demons getting closer to the Keep.” Thomas nodded at Captain Mathin. “What more needs to be done?” he asked.
Captain Mathin nodded gravely. He’d changed into a soft, old blue shirt and buckskin trousers before dinner.
“I know both of you are in charge, but I'd like to know what you've planned,” said Thomas.
Gregory set his pipe on its stand, leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him, resting his forefingers on his lips. He gazed unseeing at the far wall.
Captain Mathin chuckled. “I told you it wouldn't be long. He's absorbing everything I can teach him as fast as I tell it to him. He's even had some very good ideas about rotating the watch and filling the cistern.”
Thomas’s face flushed with embarrassment. He looked at Captain Mathin.
“Oh no, my Lord, no complaints,” the captain said, shaking his head and raising his hands. “You're getting to be as sharp as that sword Lady Aeden is starting to let you use.”
Gregory slapped his hands down on the arms of his chair and murmured, “So be it.”
He pushed himself out of the chair and moved to the left wall. A large map of Ard An Tir, the continent that held the four countries of Ard Ri, Talamh, Fasach and Fearmhar, hung from the ceiling beam at the top of the wall. The map was filled with glass headed pins of various colors. Each color represented an attack and when it occurred. He pointed to Fasach, the desert lands that lay south of Ard Ri.
“We know that the Ciardha Demon have been moving north from Fasach since late last spring. They’ve been killing every living thing that they find or turning them into Demons. They burn any human dwelling. Whole towns have been razed.
No one knows where they come from, or what their goal is, unless it’s to kill everything. They are following a path up the Dragon's Spine and have almost reached Falcon's Spire. The king is calling in all reserves and has sent ambassadors to Talamh and Fèarmhar, requesting aid.”
He paused, and then cleared his throat. “I very much fear that this is a repeat of the First Demon War.”
Thomas gasped in surprise. His lessons included the history of the four kingdoms. The time of the First Demon War had come close to obliterating everything in the world and had caused the founding of Ard Ri, Talamh, Fasach and Fearmhar.
Wrung out by constant battle with the Ciardha Demon in the far reaches of time, the kings of the four lands had forged a pact with creatures of myth - Dragons. Once they had flown the skies, helping man to beat back the Dark. Their fiery breath had taken down hordes of misshapen creatures that served the Dark. They had been crucial in helping men win that war.
Now they were gone and no one knew why. The Dark had spent itself in skirmishes decade after decade, seeming to search for something it could not find.
The Duke, Captain Mathin and Gregory had fought together in the last skirmish twenty-five years ago, a skirmish that had almost been lost. Even then, the Dragons had not come.
Gregory moved his hand up the Dragon's Spine on the map and pointed to Red Dragon’s Keep.
“Demons, minions of the Dark, are moving closer with each passing fortnight. I fear they will be here by early spring.”
“But there aren't any Dragons to help us,” exclaimed Thomas.
“I know, Lord Thomas. I've been looking through the records of the elder times, records that you haven’t seen yet because they are so old, and I haven't found anything that might help us. There are only descriptions of what they did to arm their men and take care of the people during the battles that they fought.
There are some passages that are unbelievable, describing what the Dark did to people to turn them. I think perhaps it is time for you to read those accounts. Maybe you can see where I cannot. Perhaps your siblings and cousins can help, too,” Gregory replied glumly, returning to the chair behind his desk.
Thomas sat frozen in shock. Gregory and Captain Mathin were the people he depended on to tell him what needed to be done. Without their advice, he felt helpless.
Captain Mathin stood and walked to the map. He clasped his hands behind his back, looking at it for several minutes. He finally reached out and traced the outline of Ard Ri with his right hand.
“Look here - do you see the pattern?” he asked. He pointed at the line of red glass beads.
“What pattern?” Gregory and Thomas spoke at the same time. “What do you see?” Thomas demanded as he leaned forward in his chair, then stood and walked over to stand next to the captain.
“Look at where the attacks have taken place. Look at the timing,” Captain Mathin answered. “The Dark is following all of the rivers to every settlement. Makes sense, si
nce people need water. Yet they are not crossing the water.”
“The timing is the key,” he said. “The attacks come at dusk when holders are returning to their cottages, very seldom at night. The question is why? What makes our people vulnerable then?”
Thomas stared at the map. The fingers of his right hand picked at the tufts of thread on the arm of his chair. His left hand scrubbed restlessly at the knee of his trousers. The sweet cherry smell of Gregory's pipe smoke filled the air. Captain Mathin watched both of them.
“Well, people would be going home after working in the fields and might not be as aware of what's going on,” Thomas said. “The sun has set, so there's not so much light. Do they ever attack during the day? Do they attack at night? Maybe there's something in the air? Why won't they cross the water?”
“All good questions,” said Captain Mathin. “People who have fled to other Steadings might know the answers. I've sent men to talk to any survivors. They should be back in a day or two.”
“Does anyone know where the Demons are coming from?” asked Thomas.
Sparks popped from one of the logs burning in the fireplace. Thomas flinched.
A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Gregory called.
Lady Aeden pushed the door open, walked in, and closed the door behind her.
“Gentlemen, I've some news that you must hear.” Her red-gold hair was pulled back into a tail. Trousers and a shirt in soft brown were covered with a forest green vest that fell to her knees. Well-worn black boots covered her feet and legs to mid-calf. Her sword hung in its scabbard from her belt.
Gregory, Captain Mathin and Thomas stood up as she entered the room. Impatient, she waved them back to their seats.
“Sit, please. Two of the scouts have returned. They spoke with a family that made it out of their Steading and fled north. They had to leave behind the elderlies.”
Her voice caught on the last words and she swallowed, moved to the table set along the wall next to Gregory's desk and poured herself a mug of water. Her hand shook as she raised the mug to her mouth.
Red Dragon's Keep (The Dragon's Children Book 1) Page 7
