“It’s so…simple,” she said.
“I know,” he replied, embarrassed.
“No, I like it.”
“You don’t need to say that.”
“No,” she said, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I do. You have this space all to yourself, to do with as you please. There’s too much pomp and ceremony to so much of my life. Being told where to go, what to do, how to dress. I like simple things.”
“Truly?”
She nodded, another smile forming. “Sometimes all of this routine, the people telling you to go here, go there, do this, do that…it’s wearing. That’s what I was doing that day, you know. The day you s-saved me.” Her face started to turn red at those last words. She bit her lower lip and looked down, fidgeting with her hands. “Sometimes I just like to look out, over the walls, at the trees and the forest beyond. I like to imagine it out there, so peaceful, so simple, so free.”
“I know how you feel,” Nikolis said. Then he reached forward and took her hands in his. “Let me show you something.” He took her a couple of steps forward and then reached a hand into a pocket of his coat. A low whistle was followed by a fluttering sound, and then shadows danced across the room.
Karlene started to shrink away, but Nikolis still held one of her hands in one of his. He brought her back as two dark ravens landed on his arm and quickly went to pecking at the corn inside his cupped hand. Karlene smiled with delight as Nikolis gently stroked the birds as they ate.
“I trained them,” he said, “with some instruction from the falconer, and a book or two from the library. They’ve been with me since I first came to Highkeep.”
“What do you call them?” she asked.
“Mayjen and Jayjen,” he replied.
Karlene reached out a tentative hand to touch one. “Can I?” she asked. Nikolis only smiled at her. He whistled again and one of the ravens looked up in question. It flapped its wings and landed on Karlene’s outstretched hand. She laughed, and turned up her palm, letting the bird walk over it. The bird looked down, inspecting her, no doubt looking for corn.
“He likes you,” said Nikolis.
“Does he?” Karlene asked, meeting his eyes and smiling. Nikolis whistled again and the birds took to the air, soaring across the room and landing on the windowsill. He turned back to Karlene and studied her face. In that moment he felt as if everything about her was almost unbearable. He lifted a hand, touching the curve of her cheek with his fingers. How he dared to do such a thing was beyond him, but he wasn’t thinking any longer. His actions were now guided by some fount of previously undiscovered courage, a well of strength from some place that he had never dared look. Thoughts of his parents, and of tradition and propriety went away. Her grin only widened as she stepped back, away from him, stopping only when she met the wall, her arms clasped lazily behind her back.
There was something about the look on her face that made him approach her. When he was close, she reached up and wrapped her arms about his neck, drawing him in. Their lips met again in a kiss. Nikolis’ hands found a place resting on her hips, where he could feel the heat of her body through the thin material of her grown. Their bodies pressed together and then he felt her soft tongue probing at his mouth. They opened their mouths together and their tongues met.
It didn’t seem as if either one of them wanted the moment to end, but eventually they separated. Karlene looked flushed, her lips wet, her chest heaving as much as his own. There was a grin on her face, and a sparkle in her eyes. “I best go,” she said at last. “Before someone comes looking for me.”
“Yes,” he said. “You’d…best.” He watched as she walked to the door, her sleeping gown clinging to her body in places where it was damp with sweat. As she reached for the door, she turned back, and they rushed at each other. He wrapped his arms around her, and they kissed again, long and deep, their hands running over each other’s bodies. She grasped his shoulder and the back of his neck. He pushed her hair back out of her face with one hand and ran another down the small of her back.
After many moments they separated again, and there were more smiles exchanged between them. Without a word this time, Karlene pulled the door to his chamber open and hurried out into the hallway, closing it behind her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The group plodded along a trail through the woods behind Highkeep. Today Karlene and Ellie were joined by Vayne and Vanya Dangard and Tadlym Draver. Prince Erad had also come along, and by his order Nikolis was now remanded to the rear of the procession. Rogett Gilford had insisted Ronnell Moore come for Erad’s protection, but the prince wouldn’t hear of it. He had only stopped before Nikolis, flattened an unseen crease in his grey coat and said, “Niky here will be enough.” The touch had caused Nikolis to shiver.
As usual the king had not been around to complain. That seemed to Nikolis to be an increasingly common occurrence. It was not his place to question where the royal presence was, not yet, but more often than not someone would volunteer that he was in his chambers, resting. In fact, Nikolis rarely saw the king at all, unless it was at a public event. Master Filson held court alone more and more frequently of late, or occasionally with the prince at his side, yawning and seeming little interested. When Nikolis had dared to inquire about the king’s health, as he and Raymon made their way down a corridor in the keep one day, the older man had hushed him. “He grows old and weary,” Brime whispered. “Nothing more. But it is not something to dwell on. Words can be dangerous – appearances are of the utmost importance.”
As much as the implications of all of that had plagued his mind, right now all he could think about was Karlene. The memory of their kiss had been bright in his mind, but now he couldn’t help but imagine what she was talking about with Vayne Dangard, as the pair rode ahead.
Occasionally the golden-haired noble would offer some insight or jest, as was apparent by her subsequent laughter. Nikolis was trying not to think about it, to stay alert, to watch the terrain for any sign of danger, but his mind kept coming back to what they might be discussing. There was a new emotion bubbling up inside of him, brought on when he watched the two of them riding side by side, talking and laughing. He was trying his best to quash it, but it wasn’t easy.
He decided to focus on Tadlym Draver instead, riding side by side with Vanya and Ellie Arbor. The three were talking quietly and peacefully, riding a ways off from the rest. Nikolis noted that Malister Ollyn had not come along on the venture. Vayne had made some excuse, saying that Ollyn was back at the keep, spending his time searching out merchants and contacts with which he could discuss his family’s trade business.
When the group returned from their ride, they assembled before the stables. Nikolis dismounted, followed by Erad who leaped from the saddle, tossed Nikolis the reins of his horse, and was bounding toward the keep without a word. Nikolis boarded the prince’s mount inside the stable and then emerged to attend to Karlene. But when he came out Vayne was already there, helping her down from her mare. The noble’s own steed grazed peacefully on the grass before him, apparently trained well enough that it would not wander or stray, even without being hitched or hobbled.
Nikolis watched as Vayne proffered his arm, which Karlene took, and then the pair made their way toward the keep, chatting with one another. He tried to tell himself it was just gentlemanly conduct, court gallantry, exactly what was expected of a nobleman at court, but it didn’t stop him from finding his jaw clenched, his teeth slowly grinding together.
An old man Nikolis did not recognize materialized as if from thin air and took the reins of both Vayne and Karlene’s horses. He had long, grey hair, rough and frizzy, and a thick beard and mustache, black where it wasn’t grey. One of his eyes was a milky white, and it seemed apparent to Nikolis that he could not see out of it, from the way he favored the other side. He was dressed from head to toe in black, and it took a while for Nikolis to place it, but after a few moments he was sure he had seen the man before, when Vayne’s party had first arriv
ed at Highkeep. He was one of the entourage that was not introduced at the meeting in the king’s chambers.
Due to his manner and behavior, Nikolis could only imagine he was a servant, and with nothing significant to remark upon, he was back to watching the retreating forms of Vayne and Karlene. It was only the old man’s words, “come on, let’s inside,” that drew his thoughts away. Whether the man was talking to the horses or to Nikolis, he could not be sure, but either way he followed him into the stable, bringing his own mount in tow.
Once inside he boarded and brushed down his horse, making sure the stallion was amply fed. Then he went and helped the old man with the other two mounts.
“Argive,” the man remarked, as they did their work.
“What?” Nikolis asked.
“Ma name. It’s Argive.”
“Well met. I am Nikolis Ledervane.”
“I know.”
“Are you a servant of House Dangard?” Nikolis asked, thinking the man inclined to conversation, and realizing he might as well learn what he could from him.
“Might as well be,” the old man replied.
The statement, like most of the man’s remarks, put Nikolis off, so he decided not to push it any further. Instead he moved on to another topic. “Vayne seems like a nice enough fellow,” said Nikolis. Argive looked up at him, an indiscernible look on his face. After pondering his words, Nikolis realized he might have been too formal, speaking of Vayne that way, and asking such a question. But just when he was about to apologize, the old man finally spoke.
“Aye, he’s a good boy. Too much of his mother in him, I’d say. Cousin to the King, southern born and bred, she is. Can’t think of a northman that ever wore such fine and fancy clothing as him and his sister do, but they’ve good heads on their shoulders. Long as they remember to use them.”
It was no wonder to Nikolis that Vayne and Vanya bore some kinship to the king, for their features were certainly similar. “Is the Lady Dangard from Seaport?”
“Seaport?” asked Argive, with a bark of laughter. “Nay. From here. From Highkeep lands.”
It was odd to hear someone reference Highkeep as a southern land. Almost as if he had heard Nikolis’ thoughts, he explained, “All lands south of Terloch Towers are southern lands, to us. Come visit some day and you’ll see why. Come to Terloch Towers and then you’ll know the north.”
Nikolis wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that. “I’m not sure I’ll ever find my way that far north.”
The old man stared at Nikolis, that same unreadable expression on his face. “One never knows what way life will take him.”
As Nikolis worked on Karlene’s horse, he thought on what Argive had said about Vayne and Vanya. He hoped that it was true. What he had seen so far of Vayne reminded him too much of Erad and Jon Casserly. He knew too well that older folk were often blind to the nature of their children, as he could only imagine was the case with anyone who had ever met Erad. Jonathan Casserly still spent many summers at court, which meant that he and Erad would parade about keep and town, inseparable. They would laugh and jest as they went, with never a care for who was around, or at whose expense their barbs were aimed.
On one occasion, years ago, Nikolis had been off in the yard at practice, the two boys across the way, testing their archery skills on a target propped against a tall oak at the far end of the green. When Nikolis had bent to retrieve a fallen weapon from the ground, he felt a rush of air. He hadn’t been sure what had caused the feeling until he saw an arrow, sticking out of the earth a few yards ahead. Turning around, he spotted Jon, bow in hand, staring at him.
Nikolis looked down and saw that there was a hole straight through the left leg of his breeches, and when he put his finger through the rent in the garment in discovery, Erad and Jon degenerated into a fit of hysterics, falling on the ground and laughing so hard that they had to wipe away tears from their eyes. After they had settled down Jonathan at least had the decency to yell out that it was an accident, a stray shot. Erad only stood with his arms crossed, giving his usual sneer.
Nikolis found it hard to believe there was any sincerity to the words anyway, for even the worst of archers tended not to accidentally send their arrow in a direction that was entirely opposite of the position of their intended target. Furthermore, summers of seeing the boys at such sessions had shown him that both Erad and Jon had more than adequate aim.
Nikolis and Argive finished their business in the stable, the rest of the party having long since vanished from the yard. As the old man walked away, to where Nikolis could only imagine, he realized that the man reminded him of someone. He couldn’t say why, but it finally dawned on him that Argive reminded him of another, tall, older man he had known as a child. For some reason he saw similarities between this northerner and the Brujo who his family had known on their farm in Lilton. He hadn’t thought about the man in years, but now he realized that there was something about the two men that seemed similar. He couldn’t place it, almost wanted to chalk it up to his imagination. Perhaps they were just both tall, powerfully built, older men, and for that reason he drew comparisons between them in his mind. Whatever the reason, though, there was something about the two men that gave Nikolis pause.
A few days later, as Nikolis exited his chamber in the keep, he found the castle was suddenly abuzz in preparation for the formal feast in honor of the northerners’ visit. It was already reported that there would be fine food, good drink, music, and dancing. It was an event unlike any Nikolis had heard tell of at Highkeep – at least since he had arrived.
Nikolis saw Vayne moving about the keep with ease and grace, a hearty look on his face, jests shared with those he knew, as he passed them by. He took personal interest in the feast to come, talking to various people who had been assigned preparatory duties for the event. It was also not uncommon for Nikolis to see him arm in arm with Karlene, walking down a corridor, or even in the Ladies Garden. It was after all, Nikolis’ duty to keep an especial eye on the lady. One could not blame him if he kept track of her movements from a distance. He only hoped his face did not betray the turmoil that his heart felt every time he saw them together.
Erad seemed to be enjoying the bustle as much as anyone. He went about concerning himself with the feast’s preparations as well, as interested in it as Vayne was. More often than not Nikolis saw him talking with Trin Remton, pushing the steward for more supplies, more ale and wine, and mutton. It had to be a “Feast worthy of the King of the Realm,” he heard Erad spout more than once. Never mind that as usual, the king was nowhere to be seen. The preparations seemed to be happening entirely without his assistance.
Rogett Gilford summoned him a few days before the event was to be held, to tell him his responsibilities at the engagement. As had always been the case when he attended a feast, his role at it was remanded to one of responsibility, and not in any manner in which he would partake of the festivities. “You’ll keep an eye on Vayne Dangard,” Rogett stated. “You’ll make sure no harms comes his way. No doubt he will be with the Lady Karlene often, as befits his station and responsibility. Keep an eye on them when they’re together.” The burly man looked down at Nikolis when he said the last, though he had no idea what the other man meant by the look.
As the sun was setting on the day of the event, Nikolis found himself a place in a far corner of the room, where he could easily survey the entire hall. He had a clear view of the head table, at which the king sat. Directly behind him, as usual, stood Rogett Gilford and Raymon Brime. Seated to his left and right were Master Filson, Erad, Karlene, Vayne and Malister Ollyn. Other nobility and important officials were spread out at the tables directly adjacent.
Warm bread and soft butter was already being passed around in large wooden bowls and Master Remton was moving about the room at a quick pace, checking on this or that, and ensuring the servants were keeping up a good pace, now bringing out decanters of ale and wine for the guests’ waiting mugs.
The formal introductions o
f the most important of guests had already commenced. The king having been announced first, followed by the prince. Vayne Dangard was introduced, escorting the Lady Karlene Ryland, and beyond that Nikolis could not remember what other names the herald had cried out. Karlene and Vayne were now seated next to each other, laughing and talking, and as the room grew dim it became more difficult to make out the details of their exchanges. Was Karlene really placing her small hand on Vayne’s muscled bicep, as the two shared a jest, or was it just a trick of the light?
Round after round came and went. There were mashed turnips, and pickled beets, crackling roast pig and duck and haunches of mutton. After dinner there were fresh pears and bowls of custard with a thick crust that guests had to break through with a spoon, to get at the creamy interior. Then when the gathered guests had eaten their fill, many now red of face and wavering from drink, the feast tables were cleared and they, in turn with the benches, were pushed against the far walls of the hall so the dancing could begin.
Musicians armed with fiddle and lute and pipe, took up their instruments and began a merry tune. The pace was fast, and soon the limited social spectrum in attendance was intermingled, gentlemen dashing about the room turning their partners, the ladies’ skirts flying into the air at every turn. Erad stomped his feet to the music and chortled as Karlene and Vayne spun about. The lady was dressed in a beautiful white gown, stitched with dark lace at the bodice, while Vayne was decked in coat and trousers of green silk, the three towers of his house picked out in thread of black and gold at his breast.
Nikolis spotted Tadlym Draver not too far away, dancing with the daughter of an important official from town, though he could not recall the name of father or daughter. She was of an age with him, though small, with dark hair and eyes. Tad smiled and appeared to be making pleasant conversation, dancing at a relatively slow pace, while the girl seemed only nervous. He had hoped to see Garley or Raife amongst the servants or kitchen staff who made brief appearances, but thus far had been disappointed.
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