Dawn of Mist

by Helen Scheuerer

  ‘The king would come to me. I’m the commander of his army. I would do anything on his orders.’

  Fi raised his brows. ‘Anything? Surely not. You have a moral compass, old friend. The king knows that.’

  Swinton threw his hands up. ‘What are you talking about? I’m His Majesty’s right-hand man. I’m going to be a knight, for Rheyah’s sake.’

  Fi gave a grim shrug. ‘Are you?’ He rested a compassionate hand on Swinton’s shoulder. ‘You’ve been saying that for months – years, even. And yet, brother, nothing has changed.’ The Battalonian’s warm eyes were filled with something like pity.

  Swinton’s stomach dropped. That couldn’t be right. Arden had hinted at his knighthood for a while now, but he had his reasons for the delay, surely. Swinton had no cause to doubt the king …

  Did he?

  Fi was watching him closely. ‘I just don’t want you to be disappointed. This was a bad move by Arden —’

  ‘Careful, Fi …’

  ‘Just stating facts, old friend. Keeping a lech like Lennox on the guard isn’t a good sign, eh?’

  Swinton didn’t reply. Eliza flashed before his eyes. She had agreed to marry a soon-to-be knight. What now? What if his knighthood never came to pass? What if he couldn’t offer her all that she deserved?

  ‘Is there something else, Dimi?’ Fi asked gently, his hands clasped together in his lap.

  Swinton stared at his Battalonian brother for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. ‘No,’ he said, his earlier joy rapidly evaporating. ‘There’s nothing.’

  The tavern in Grayside was as raucous as ever. Even hidden away in his room upstairs, Swinton could hear the commotion of gambling and drinking bellowing from below. Too nervous to eat, his lunch sat scarcely touched on a tray by the fire.

  Eliza was late, and he felt immense guilt for asking her to travel here from Willowdale. Even during daylight, he didn’t like the idea of her riding alone across the rural counties. But there had been no other option. His frequent visits to Willowdale were apparently drawing attention —

  A sharp knock on the door sounded.

  ‘Come in,’ he called.

  ‘Hello,’ Eliza said, stepping inside and lowering her hood. Beneath her cloak she wore a plain blue dress and muddied riding boots. ‘Have you been waiting long?’

  Swinton shook his head and went to her, folding his arms around her and breathing in her scent.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Eliza asked, frowning as she drew back and studied his face.

  Swinton led her to the settee in front of the fireplace and sat down beside her, holding her rough hands in his.

  She squeezed his fingers. ‘You’re having second thoughts?’ she guessed.

  ‘Gods, no,’ Swinton replied, still unable to meet her eyes.

  ‘Then what is it?’

  Swinton took a deep breath. ‘I … I just thought it was only fair to offer you the chance to retract your answer to my proposal.’

  She dropped his hand. ‘And why in the realm would I do that?’

  ‘Well … things at the castle aren’t quite going according to plan …’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I’m … Well, I’m beginning to suspect that the king’s intentions regarding my knighthood have changed.’

  Eliza blinked.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Swinton stammered. ‘I honestly thought this was going to happen, I —’

  ‘What does that have to do with anything?’ she cut in.

  Swinton finally met her gaze. Her eyes were filled with fire. ‘Eliza, I —’

  She held up a hand, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Do you honestly think your title means something to me?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘Dimitri.’ She cupped his face, her eyes locking with his. ‘I realise it’s something you’ve worked hard for your whole life. I realise it’s something you deserve, something that you were promised. So, in that sense, of course it’s important.’ She paused, kissed him gently. ‘But when it comes to me, when it comes to us, I couldn’t give a damn whether you’re a knight or a street cleaner.’

  Tears lined her eyes now. She swallowed. ‘Do you still want to marry me?’

  ‘Of course – I was just trying to —’

  She gave a decisive nod. ‘Then let’s get married.’

  Still in shock, Swinton nodded back. ‘Alright. Well, in two weeks —’

  ‘Not in two weeks. Today. Now.’

  ‘Eliza.’ Swinton squeezed her shoulder. ‘Don’t be rash. We can’t get married today.’

  ‘We can do whatever we like, Dimitri. Let’s find a priestess. Let’s be together.’

  She was mad. There was no way they could get married here and now. It wasn’t proper. It wasn’t how things were meant to be. But …

  She was studying him, a subtle smile playing across her lips. ‘What do you say?’

  Swinton pulled her to him, his lips finding hers. Eliza’s hands went to the back of his neck and her fingers threaded through his hair. He could kiss her forever.

  Finally, he leaned back and gazed into her eyes. ‘I say yes. Yes,’ he laughed. ‘Let’s get married today.’

  They asked Eliza’s parents to be their witnesses. Back in Willowdale, down by their favourite tree, they swore their vows to the local priestess, to the gods and to one another.

  Taking his oath to Eliza was the highest honour of Swinton’s life. He told her so as he held her hands beneath the flowing leaves of the great willow.

  ‘I give you everything I have and will have,’ he said, entwining his fingers with hers. ‘I vow to love you and protect you for as long as I draw breath.’

  There was a sniff from nearby. Swinton glanced over to Eliza’s parents and was surprised to see Emmett, not Dorothy, shedding a tear. Swinton felt a swell of gratitude towards them. They were decent folk, and unlike so many others, they just wanted happiness for their daughter, no matter how or where she found it.

  ‘Eliza,’ the priestess said. ‘Do you take this man, Dimitri Caleb Swinton, to be your husband, here and now, here and forever, before all the gods?’

  Eliza grinned. ‘I take him.’

  The priestess nodded. ‘And Dimitri, do you take this woman, Eliza Elora Carlington, to be your wife, here and now, here and forever, before all the gods?’

  Swinton let out a breath. ‘I take her.’ He couldn’t believe this was truly happening.

  ‘Then it is with great pleasure that I pronounce you husband and wife.’

  Husband and wife. Husband and wife … Swinton had a wife. The beautiful, spirited woman standing before him was his wife.

  Eliza leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth.

  Swinton flushed. In front of her parents? In front of the priestess? But as the Carlingtons approached, they wore only expressions of pride. Emmett grasped Swinton’s hand and shook it firmly.

  ‘Congratulations, Dimitri. I know you’ll do right by her.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Dorothy brushed a kiss against his stubbled cheek and echoed her daughter’s earlier words: ‘Welcome to the family, love.’ Then she winked at him, the gesture strongly reminiscent of Eliza, and added, ‘I knew I’d be three bronze coins richer, before long.’

  Eliza’s parents and the priestess made their excuses and started back towards the village. For the first time, Swinton suddenly felt self-conscious.

  The wedding night.

  Gods. Where would they stay? Were they going to …?

  Eliza’s voice interrupted his panic. ‘Come with me.’

  ‘Where?’

  She tugged his hand. ‘Just follow me.’

  Swinton did as she bid, trailing after her towards the stable grounds. She led them all the way to the field where Xander was grazing, his coat gleaming in the afternoon sun.

  Eliza rested her elbows on the fence. ‘He’s beautiful, isn’t he?’

  Swinton nodded. ‘He is. He’ll be a fine stallion one day.’

  Eliza turn
ed to him. ‘He’s yours.’

  ‘What?’ Swinton couldn’t have heard her right.

  But Eliza nodded keenly. ‘He’s yours. Xander. He’s a wedding gift from me.’

  ‘Eliza … you can’t. He’s … The king will want him. Your father —’

  She waved him away. ‘Says Xander is mine and mine to give to whom I please. I want you to have him.’

  ‘I can’t accept him.’

  ‘You can, and you will.’ She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest.

  ‘But …’ Swinton looked again at the magnificent foal, then back to Eliza. ‘I don’t have a wedding gift for you.’

  His wife smiled, unfolding her arms and taking his hands once more. ‘This day is gift enough, Dimitri.’

  Swinton wished there was somewhere else, somewhere finer he could take his new bride, but she insisted that there was nothing wrong with the tavern in Grayside. Swinton could think of many things wrong with it, but he had learned even before today that once Eliza set her mind to something, that mind was rarely changed.

  They rode side by side back to the tavern as dusk fell, nerves fluttering in Swinton’s stomach the entire time. He kept sneaking glances at Eliza, wondering if she was just as anxious. But his wife looked at ease, as she always did, smiling at him whenever she caught his eye.

  The journey felt like it took an age and then, suddenly, no time at all. The grubby tavern came into view before Swinton had fully prepared himself for it. Do we share a room? he thought frantically. Do I assume that? I can’t assume – I don’t want to put her on the spot. I want her to be —

  ‘Good to have you back, Commander,’ the stable boy said, dipping his head as they dismounted and handed him their reins.

  ‘Thank you,’ Swinton managed, not at all sure how to proceed as the boy led their horses away.

  He’d been with women before. Fi had made sure of it. But this … this was different. This was his wife. This was a wedding night. He had no idea what Eliza would expect, and he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable – or worse, disappointed.

  ‘Your room is big enough for two, isn’t it?’ Eliza asked brazenly, looking to the entrance of the tavern.

  Swinton flushed. ‘Yes – would you … Would you like to stay with me tonight?’

  ‘Of course.’ Eliza laughed. ‘But first things first: let’s eat. I’m absolutely famished.’

  Relief flooded through Swinton. He realised that he was starving as well, that neither of them had eaten all day. That settled things, then. He took her hand and marched inside.

  In a corner booth, the newlyweds ate and drank their fill by the fire. A simple meal of beef stew, bread and wine, but hearty nonetheless. They spoke of the day, and how they wouldn’t change it for the world. They spoke of their first meeting, Swinton teasing Eliza for her initial rudeness. His eyes lined with tears of laughter as she vehemently denied his impression of her scowl.

  At last, they sat back against the cushions, bellies full and hearts content.

  ‘Shall we go upstairs?’ Eliza asked quietly, her warm hand on his.

  Swinton laced his fingers through hers and nodded.

  The door creaked as Swinton unlocked it and led Eliza inside. Had it really only been this morning that they’d been here, deciding to marry? It felt so long ago now.

  Someone had stoked the fire. The shadows of its flames flickered across the settee before the hearth. Eliza, already pushing her boots off at the heel, sank into the plush seat with a contented sigh.

  Suddenly nervous again, Swinton removed his boots and went to sit beside her, wringing his hands.

  ‘Something on your mind?’ Eliza said, turning to him, her legs curled up beneath her.

  Swinton cleared his throat. ‘I … I want to be honest with you,’ he said, the words grating in his throat.

  Eliza raised her brows. ‘Oh?’

  He took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her, but … the truth was important. They couldn’t start their marriage based on lies. ‘You’re not … You’re not the first woman I’ve —’

  ‘Married?’ she teased, tucking loose hair behind her ear with a grin.

  ‘No.’ Swinton was sweating. ‘You’re not my … my first.’

  She shrugged. ‘Nor are you mine.’

  Swinton’s next words faltered, and clearly, he hadn’t hidden his surprise well.

  Eliza frowned. ‘I didn’t think that would bother you.’

  ‘I …’ Swinton considered this, before reaching across and taking her hand in his once more. She was right. It didn’t bother him at all. ‘I don’t care about your first love, or loves,’ he told her. ‘The only love I care about is your last.’

  Eliza gazed at him intently, pulling herself on top of him, a leg either side of his. She drew his face to hers, her fingers tangled in his hair.

  ‘Good,’ she said softly. ‘Now will you take me to bed, Dimitri?’

  Swinton awoke to beams of gold filtering through the gaps in the curtains. Eliza’s hair, splayed across the pillow next to his, glinted in the sunlight. She was sleeping soundly, her bare legs entwined with his, while her dress and shift lay crumpled in a pile by the unlit fire.

  Swinton watched as her torso rose and fell steadily with each breath. He had never allowed himself to imagine that one day they would be this close. That he would be able to hold her in bed, to call her his wife. But yet … here she was.

  She stirred beside him, but settled as he began to stroke her hair. Soon the magic of this morning would fade and reality would sweep in, but not yet. They had a few more hours still.

  It was mid-morning when Swinton finally opened the curtains. He was due back in Heathton that same afternoon to oversee the training of the new squires, and he was already running late.

  ‘Don’t go,’ Eliza said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  ‘I don’t want to,’ Swinton told her, leaning into her touch. ‘I want nothing more than to stay here with you. But …’

  ‘But you can’t.’

  Swinton nodded.

  ‘I’ll come with you …’

  ‘I’d never ask that of you,’ he said. ‘You hate the capital.’

  She leaned back and pressed her hands to his chest. ‘But I love you.’

  He grasped her hands in his. ‘And I love you too much to force you to live in a place you deem so backwards. We will make this work. We will find a way. I just need time to sort out my duties in Heathton first.’

  ‘I know,’ Eliza allowed. ‘How long will you be gone?’

  ‘A few weeks.’

  ‘Weeks?’

  ‘I’m sorry. But once I’ve attended to my obligations, I’ll come back to you, and we can finally start our life together.’

  Eliza tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed. ‘Do you promise?’

  Swinton pressed his forehead to hers. ‘With all my heart,’ he vowed.

  Back in Heathton, Swinton felt hollow. He missed Eliza more than he could have ever imagined. He missed her confidence and her teasing. He missed their conversations and the ease with which he could speak his mind to her. He missed her mouth on his and the sweep of her hair across his chest as they lay together.

  The daily duties of his post made life no simpler. Lennox was permanently in the periphery of his guard now, smug and cocky, knowing that Swinton had no true authority over him. The other guards knew it, too.

  In Swinton’s absence, Fi had been granted leave to return home to Battalon for a brief visit. So Swinton spent his numbered hours of leisure time writing to Eliza. He had told no one of their marriage. Not yet. He would tell Fi once he was back in Heathton, but to tell anyone else seemed unimportant.

  As the days passed, he oversaw the enrolment and training of new squires. He drilled each of his units hard, making sure the king’s defences were up to scratch, and he visited his father’s estate. For a moment, he considered telling his parents about Eliza, but the previous encounter they’d had with the Ca
rlingtons stopped him.

  After three long weeks had gone by, a porter arrived with a letter for Swinton. A letter from Eliza. He waited until the servant had closed the door behind him before tearing open the seal, eager to hear any news from his wife. She had a way with words, and her letters always managed to make him feel less alone.

  This one was different.

  His heart began to thud wildly as he read and re-read the unusually short missive:

  Dimitri.

  Come to Willowdale. I need you.

  Eliza

  Swinton rode out of Heathton in the middle of the night, panic latching onto his heart. Eliza needed him, and whatever was wrong, whatever the cost, he needed to be there for her.

  When he arrived in Willowdale, it was mid-morning. He had ridden all night and stopped only once to water his horse. He was exhausted, but terror urged him on. He asked after her like a madman, stopping every porter and stable hand in the area.

  He found her in a corral with Xander. She was walking beside the colt, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle, gaze on the ground.

  He ducked under the fence and approached her.

  ‘Dimitri.’ His name caught in her throat, her eyes suddenly lined with tears. ‘What … I … I wasn’t sure you would come.’

  He stopped her and gripped her shoulders, peering into her face. ‘Of course I came. What happened? Are you alright? What’s wrong?’ The questions tumbled out of him in a panic.

  ‘Dimitri,’ she started, her eyes dropping to her hands resting across her abdomen.

  ‘You can tell me. Has something happened? I’m here now.’

  Her lower lip trembled. ‘I’m not sure you’ll …’

  ‘Whatever it is, Eliza. I need to know.’

  She nodded, as if to steady herself. ‘Dimitri.’ His name sounded like a question, but then she looked him straight in the eyes. ‘I’m pregnant.’

  Time stopped.

  Eliza’s words hung suspended between them as Swinton tried to understand them, tried to comprehend what they meant.

  ‘We’re going to have a family?’ he asked, a tremor in his voice.

  Eliza nodded again, biting her lip and searching his face.