by Heidi Hanley
No one said a word.
It didn’t take long before Jonathan picked up a sausage with his fingers and popped it in his mouth. He chewed only once or twice before gulping it down. Three more followed, as did the eggs and bread, and in only a couple of minutes, the plate was empty. Briana frowned, wondering how long it had been since his last meal.
“Still willing to deal with us?” asked Briana.
He nodded.
“Then I need you to be honest with me about some things. Like why you agreed to help Shamwa in the first place.”
The combination of the show of force and compassion worked its magic. Everything came pouring out. His parents were wealthy merchants in Cedarmara, but, times had been tough, and business poor. His mother was ill and his father unable to work and feed them. Desperate, he sought out Lord Shamwa for work. The nefarious monster paid the child a fair amount of money to travel to Tynan Ibor and find the woman traveling with two men.
“He didn’t call you Mouse, or milady, just ‘the woman,’ but I knew who he was talking about. Everyone is talking about you. Anyway, I found you at Moiria and started following you. Only I got lost after that big fight at Cath Ardghal. You sure got sliced up there. I thought you would surely die.”
She made a rude noise under her breath. “Well, if you were there, then you know I have killed men.” He shrugged. “And as you can see, the injury hasn’t slowed me down any.”
He nodded again, respect evident in his eyes. “So, why didn’t you report my whereabouts to Shamwa? Why are you still hanging around?”
He blushed and looked down at his feet. “I was trying to work out what to do. If I told Lord Shamwa where you were, he’d come after you and maybe hurt you.” He paused. “I didn’t think I wanted him to do that.”
“Where is Shamwa?”
“He’s at his castle. He never leaves the castle. People go to him and he sends his military and spies out to do the work.”
Sir Thomas nodded. The boy was speaking true. Shamwa hadn’t actually been seen outside of Aurum Castle since the curse was placed on Ard Darach.
“But I can show you the way into his castle.”
Briana’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced at Sigel, who was staring at the boy with an odd expression on his face. She turned back to Jonathan. “That would be helpful, yes.”
He took a deep breath, met her eyes, and for a split-second she recognized the man he would become. Her stomach pitched. He had a destiny in Uisneach, she was sure of it, and Maker help the woman who would fall in love with him and those killer eyes.
“Your Majesty.” He spoke with passion. “I decided the minute I saw you kill that man who was going to kill your friend that I wanted to work for you, not Shamwa. I just didn’t know how to go about it.”
“You can start by telling the truth,” Sigel said.
Briana shot him a surprised glance. So did the boy.
“I know well who your father is,” Sigel said, “and it isn’t a merchant in Cedarmara.”
Briana looked hard at the lad, squeezing Nua’s hilt. “Not a great way to solicit my trust in you, Mr. Stark,” she said, disappointed in his deception.
He looked at the floor and said nothing for a few moments. Then he looked up and met Briana’s stare. “My name is Jonathan Stark and I did come to you from Cedarmara, but not originally. The merchant and his wife that I told you about are not my real parents, but the people who took me in and raised me when my mother was murdered by Lord Shamwa and my father made a prisoner at Ard Darach.”
He paused long enough for Briana to close her mouth, which had dropped open in shock at this revelation. “Please, continue.”
He resumed his story with more confidence. “My father is Sir Jameson Stark, knighted for his superb horsemanship and victory in jousts, but also for his loyalty to King Barclay. When the senior king died, he stayed on to serve King Brath. My mother was from Cedarmara, said to be the most beautiful woman in Uisneach, with hair like corn silk and eyes as blue as the sky. Her family disowned her when she eloped to Ard Darach with my father, whom she met when he came to Cedarmara for a jousting tournament. I’ve been told they fell in love at first sight and nothing would keep them apart.”
Briana’s gut clenched, but she remained focused on the boy’s tale.
“I was two years old when my mother took me to Ard Darach to be with my father. That was the night that Artanin and Shamwa poisoned King Brath. My father stayed at his side, to protect him.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Sigel’s hands curl reflexively at his side, and watched him bite his lower lip.
“When mother tried to take me out to safety, Lord Shamwa grabbed her, ripped me from her arms and threw me over the wall, before doing whatever he did to her. I don’t know the details, but she died. I should’ve died too, I’m told, but did not.”
Squirming in his chair, the boy reached a hand to his eye, pretending to scratch an itch. Briana didn’t miss the shiny wetness of traitorous tears. She turned away to allow him some dignity. After a few seconds, he continued.
“One of the merchants visiting the castle, Colm Connuckle, took me back to Cedarmara, intending to turn me over to my mother’s parents. Sadly, they were also killed, in a separate incident with the Gray Military, so there was no one save Colm and his wife Deidre to raise me.
“They were kind to me, and I love them very much. My leaving had nothing to do with them. Mum – that’s what I call Mrs. Connuckle – is sick, and they do need money, as Pa – that’s what I call Mr. Connuckle – has not been able to make much of a living with his wine business since Lord Shamwa started torturing everyone. I did think the money he offered would help, but that isn’t the real reason I decided to follow you and turn you over to him.”
“It was to find your father,” Sigel said.
“Right. Once I knew you were going to the castle and once I saw Lady – well, when I realized you could help me as easily as Shamwa, it seemed the better way to go.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
“I didn’t think that would persuade you as much as me telling you I could find Shamwa.”
“Is that true? Can you get into his castle?”
He nodded. “I was taken there by the druid. He was nice to me, Shamwa I mean, but I know it was because he wanted me to do this for him.” Turning to Sigel he asked, “So, how did you know, Ivan?”
There was some confusion at the name until Briana remembered. “Well, Mr. Stark, we also told a wee lie. This man’s name is not Ivan. He is Lord Marshall Sigel.”
The boy’s mouth gaped. “Sir,” he said, in a hushed, clearly awed tone. “I’ve heard so many stories about you.”
Sigel grunted something unintelligible. “Your father and I are friends. Your eyes are unquestionably his. Must get your fairness from your mother, though.”
“I don’t remember either of my parents, but Mum and Pa told me all kinds of stories about them. Is it true my father was the best jouster in Uisneach?”
“He is, indeed,” Sir Thomas said. “Sigel, do you remember the tournament at Moiria the year before the Great Wars began?”
“You mean the one where Sir Jameson almost killed Sir Cruahan? Cruahan’s mount bolted, throwing him into the path of Jameson’s lance. Only your father’s lightning reflexes allowed him to pull the lance away in time. Great jouster and a good man with a horse!”
The boy smiled, pleased to hear such praise for his father. “We’ll get him out too, right?”
Sigel nodded. “If he’s in there, you will be reunited with him.”
“Did you know my mother?”
“A rare beauty and a kind woman,” said Sigel. “I remember you as a babe. Your parents loved you very much, lad.”
A hush fell, allowing the young man to reflect on this information about his parents. After a time, Sigel broke the silence. “Now, in the future, you must promise to tell the truth. One of the most important things about being a member of the
king’s, or queen’s, detail is that we need to trust each other. Understood?”
Queen’s detail? She sensed a connection with this boy. Some special energy flowed between them. Jonathan had the heart and soul of a knight. The kingdom could use another brave defender. She could use such a shield.
“Mr. Stark,” she finally said. “I think you’re a good man,” he smiled at her reference to his manhood, “who has gotten himself into a dangerous situation. My Maker, you could have been killed several times while you followed us. This is no mere childhood adventure, and Shamwa does want me dead. We are, at this very moment, gathering troops to defeat him. You are young,” she put a hand up to stop his automatic protest, “but you seem to possess some brains and a good heart, and would be welcome to train for the king’s army. What do you think?”
The boy looked dumbstruck. “I’d like that, Your Majesty.”
She smiled. “I’m going to take you off house arrest, but the eyes of every person in this mansion will be on you every second. There is no way for you to leave without us knowing, and should you attempt it, you will be dealt with severely. Am I clear?”
“You don’t trust me,” he said, sounding disappointed.
“Not yet, I don’t. You’ve got some proving to do.” She avoided looking at Sigel.
He nodded solemnly.
“Well, then, Mr. Stark, when we get to Ard Darach, we’ll see about getting you trained.”
She turned to Sir Thomas, who’d said nothing during the interview, but whose expression communicated respect and approval. “Do you have anything to add, Sir Thomas?”
“Only that if this young man proves his fealty to us, then he should be a fine addition to King Brath’s defense.”
“Your Majesty, if he’s to join your retinue, he must be bathed and properly clothed,” said Cailleach. “Shall I see to that?”
“Yes. Thank you, Cailleach. I will trust you to do all that’s necessary.” In case I forgot anything.
The witch and the groomsmen escorted the boy out of the room. A moment later, Briana let out a deep breath.
“Well done, Lady Briana. King Brath could have done no better,” said Sir Thomas.
She sighed deeply. “Would he have taken a risk on that boy, do you think?”
“He’s Sir Jameson’s son. Of course he would,” Sigel said.
“What did you mean by him being on the ‘queen’s detail’?” she asked.
“You need someone specifically trained as your personal guard and escort.”
“A squire?”
“Yes, but he’ll serve you, rather than one of the knights. He’s young, and smart. I can see a bond forming between the two of you. You want someone you can trust absolutely and I think he’s your man – or boy, at the moment. He’ll grow into the position, and quickly, I imagine.” He put a hand at her back to lead her out of the interrogation room. “You did well with that, Briana. Sir Thomas is right. Brath couldn’t have handled it any better.”
She might have done a fair job of faking it as the queen in front of a boy, but this was serious business, and she needed to be totally focused on the job.
She also realized there was something she needed to do to prepare for the next part of their journey. Now that they all had such fine steeds, it would be idiotic to continue on foot. She needed to spend some time in the saddle to brush up on her skills and make sure she could keep up with the men. And she needed to talk to Silas.
“I’m going to the barn,” she said.
While she brushed Banrion, Briana filled Epona in on everything that had occurred with the Stark boy.
“It sounds like you discharged your queenly duty quite well. The boy was lucky to have run into you. Lord Shamwa would undoubtedly have killed him once he got what he wanted from him.”
“I must say, Epona, there’s something about him. I’m glad he came here.” Banrion kept pushing sideways into Briana and nuzzling her hard. Briana smiled. She and the mare also shared a connection. So many pieces falling into place.
“Let me saddle her for you.”
“I’ll do it,” Briana said, heading for the tack room. In a matter of minutes, Banrion was saddled, bridled and ready. Briana put her left leg in the stirrup and slowly started to push herself up on her right, wanted to test the pressure on the newly healed wound. It felt fine. The mare was responsive to Briana’s slightest command of voice or body and had a relaxing, easy gait, a rider’s dream.
Epona stood at the fence, smiling as Briana came around at a lope. “Silas was right. She’s perfect for you.”
“I’d like to take her out on a trail.” For sure they’d be going over some rough ground. She wanted reassurance that she wouldn’t lose her seat.
“I’ll join you.”
“Might as well get used to riding together,” Briana said, grinning.
“I know. Isn’t it exciting?” Epona assumed a very serious look. “I promise, Your Majesty, that I will do my utmost to protect you from all evil villains and wayward bards.”
Looking around and finding no one present to overhear the last part, Briana laughed. “You really do have to cut that out, Epona. You’re going to get me in all kinds of trouble.”
Epona saddled a black mare named Aquila, and the two of them rode along a trail around a pond where swans paddled regally by. From the top of a hill, Briana saw the nearby villages of Derryfeeny and Glengorrin.
“What a beautiful view. How long have you been here, Epona? How did you ever come by this work?”
“My father was the Master of the Hunt for a long time. He was an amazing horseman and he and Sir Thomas were best of friends. I loved horses; it was the first word I learned to say. My father loved having me with him in the stables, so I rode before I walked. I worked side by side with my father until the day he died, in a riding accident, if you can believe it. He took a jump over a low stone wall. The horse caught her hoof on the wall and fell on him. He hit his head on the wall. It killed him instantly. I was right behind him and witnessed it.” Her eyes welled, recalling the day.
“I am so sorry, Epona.” Having lost her own father under tragic circumstances, Briana knew there wasn’t much else to be said.
“Well, Sir Thomas said there was no other person he would even consider to manage the Winge horses, and so I became the Mistress of the Hunt at the ripe age of sixteen.”
“Have you ever wanted to do anything else, go anywhere else?”
Epona shook her head. “This is my life and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“What about a husband? Children? Have you ever wanted a family, ever been in love?”
A shadow crossed Epona’s face for a fraction of a second. “I’ve not met the man who can compete with my horses. If I did, and if he accepted my life, I’d be happy to marry and have babies, but I’m not really looking. I’m happy the way things are. Now, if I met someone like your Silas…”
“He’s not my Silas,” she broke in. “You must put that idea out of your mind, Epona. It’s dangerous.”
“Just because you might not be able to marry him, doesn’t mean he isn’t yours. If ever two hearts were meant for each other, yours are. Besides, you never know what the future might bring, do you? Don’t give up so easily, Briana.”
Briana gazed upward through the leaves of an apple tree. “There’s nothing to give up on,” she said, realizing for the first time in her life, that she was losing her belief in fairy-tale endings. “Epona, could I have a few minutes alone, please?”
Her friend scanned the area around them and nodded. “I’ll be over there. We’ll head back when you’re ready.”
With the Mistress of the Hunt out of the immediate vicinity, Briana took some deep breaths and called Silas.
I’m here, he responded.
Where’s here?
Along the banks of the Long River. Nothin’ to report. All’s quiet. How about you?
She updated him on the interrogation of Jonathan Stark, as well as the plan for his future.<
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Sir Jameson’s boy. Well, I’ll be damned. I do remember he had a wee laddie with his eyes. It sounds like he’ll make a good squire for you, Briana. And what are you up to now?
Riding with Epona. I’m alone right now.
There was a pause. Why do I get the feelin’ this is serious?
Because it is. I’ve been thinking about last night, this morning, whenever it was.
Aye, me, too.
Her stomach flipped and rolled in agonizing waves. Silas, I think you were right. I’m worried that allowing ourselves to go down that path is a mistake.
You regret our lovemaking last night?
I don’t regret our loving each other. But we’re leaving here in a couple of days. It won’t be long before we’re at Ard Darach, and then what? I love you and want you. I have to admit that I would find a way to get to you and make it more real. That hardly seems honorable or fair to any of us.
Lasting silence made her nervous.
Silas?
I’m here. I’m thinkin’.
I’ve hurt you.
Of course it hurts. Doesn’t it hurt you?
It kills me. But it’s the right thing, isn’t it?
It is.
This is probably the most cliché thing ever said, but do you think that we can still talk to each other, but as friends?
Of course.
Frustration replaced nervousness.
Silas, this is feeling like a very one-sided conversation. Don’t you have anything else to say?
I’m sorry, Briana. I just wasn’t expectin’ this and I want to respond properly. So this is what I think – of course we’ll be friends. We share the same soul. We are friends, lovers, confidants and anything else soulmates can be. We can’t be otherwise. And I love you. So, if not talkin’ to me, or being intimate, helps you do what you need to do, then we shall say good night and not speak like this again. However, your role will be a lonely one, at least until you and Brath establish enough of a bond that he becomes your confidant. If you need a friend, I will be there for you. Always.
In the silence that followed, all Briana heard was the wind blowing through the leaves above and the sad beating of her heart. She was humbled by his unselfishness and his love.
