Part 10

Updated 8/3/24

Chapter 23

David

David Otual had re-entered Freislicht from Mestelina near South Fort. He had been there for several moons, then met up with his fiancé who was working on the border for a week. They planned to marry soon.

As he moved eastward toward Lexandria, he began catching up on the news of what had occurred during his time away. For the most part, it was gossip. This noble, upstart or ne’er-do-well had eloped with that nobleman’s daughter. Farms and outlying settlements had been raided, crops burned and people killed by the Mestels. Bandit attacks were on the rise, and becoming so brazen they had attacked small merchant caravans. All of it was just variations on stories he had heard before, only more exaggerated.

Even though travelling alone, no one attacked him. Thus, he had no idea if the talk was true, or if the thieves were unwilling to attack a Knight of J’shua.

When he was in the outskirts of Lexandria, he heard a new rumor. Highwaymen had become so bold they had attacked a nobleman’s carriage. The details were sketchy and, no doubt, had grown ever more dire with the retelling. Yet, it was when he heard the words, “…it carried Caswell’s crest plain as day on its side…” that his ears pricked up.

Beckoning the barmaid over, he asked, “What’s this about a Caswell carriage?”

“Never mind them. They’ve been telling that story for weeks. It seems they’ve a dislike for the Caswells, so that tale gets told every night once they’re drunk enough. Each challenging the other with ever more gory details.”

“What happened?”

“Little is known for sure. It is said the a Caswell carriage was waylaid on its return from Lorness. The supply wagons travelling with it, supposedly, got stuck. Some say they were bribed to lag behind.” She nodded at the men still exchanging gruesome aspects of the assault. “The guards who should have been escorting the countess stayed to help the waggoneers. Or, perhaps, they were ordered to do so. Who knows? In any case, almost in sight of Caswell, the carriage was forced to stop by a downed tree. A group of brazen highwaymen – a dozen or more, it is said – emerged, killed the driver, his apprentice and the luggage boy. Then they… had their way… with the women inside the carriage, including the noblewoman.”

“Did she live?”

“Some say yes. Most,” she nodded at the loud bunch of drunkards again, “say no. Some have even said she was taken to Lorness, so witches with strange knowledge could save her life, at the cost of her unborn’s… and all her future children.” She shuddered. “Perhaps I should not have told you that last part, but it is whispered by the old women who understand the feminine mysteries. Women I’ll not cross by gainsaying them.”

“Thank you.” He tipped her for the information and considered approaching the rowdy men. But their voices carried well enough to catch most of what they were saying. It was too late to travel further, so he sat, ate and drank. As he did so, a pit opened within his stomach. If only a tenth of what he heard was vaguely accurate, his ‘honored uncle’, Drake Caswell, was in despair over his wife’s condition. Whatever that turned out to be.

It was a long-standing tradition amongst the knights that everyone have family support. In the case of a new knight that had no brothers, at graduation a brother knight would bond to him as a brother in a solemn ceremony so that all his offspring would have an honorary uncle to guide them should anything happen to their father. Upon graduation Drake became the honored brother of David’s father, Jonathan Otual, and honored uncle to David upon his birth.

Drake took his oath very seriously and bid his father travel with him on many missions as knights. David had been there several times and could remember his last visit to Caswell when his father took him to Esthlanis to the Gorum horse farm. He had fond memories of Uncle Drake.

Early the following morning, he made his way to the markets. He had enough baden to buy provisions, so did so. He did not want to have to hunt along the way. Caswell was northwest through thick forests that were, according to rumor, home to gangs of bandits, thieves and feral boys.

The weather was kind, thank J’shua, and he made good time.

No one interfered with him, although he was aware of others paralleling him for a time. However, flicking back his cloak so the sword worn at his waist was obvious caused them to depart soon afterward.

The day he arrived at Caswell, the heavens opened and rain torrented down. Even with his hood raised and his cloak wrapped tightly around him, David was soon drenched.

The guard at the entrance to Caswell Castle barred his entry. “Off with you, we have no place for travelers who would sop up the Earl’s generosity.”

“I am David Otual, Drake Caswell’s nephew. Please let him know I am in the city and would see him. Is there an inn nearby where I can get warm? This place has grown since my last visit.”

“Off with you!” the guard repeated.

“Hold,” another intervened. “Did you say Otual? Like the outlaw with the Mestels?”

“The person accused of that is Jonathan Otual. I am David Otual.”

“You could be a relative,” the second voice suggested.

“He is,” a third voice intervened, walking up behind the second guard, and slamming his head into a stone wall. “David, it has been too long,” the grey-bearded Captain of the Guard added. “Come inside.”

The first guard snapped to attention and moved out of the way.

David walked past.

The captain instructed the first guard, while gazing down at the second, “Strip him of his uniform and throw him out into the rain. I have warned that fool for the last time.”

“But he is related to—”

“He is not of Caswell. He was brought in from Lorness, but has made trouble since the day he arrived. Let him return there. He has no further place amongst the guard, not while I am its captain. And, while you are moving him, do not be gentle. Remember what he did to…”

The first guard’s face lit up with a nasty smile. “If I might have leave to summon assistance, we shall see he is driven beyond Caswell’s borders. Should be fall prey to bandits, that would be too bad.”

“Yes, wouldn’t it just?” the captain agreed with a smile. “Bring others to take over your post.” Then he turned back to David. “We have had trouble in recent weeks. Have you heard about the Drake’s wife?”

“I have heard a dozen different tales. All of which claim to be true.”

“Step into the guard’s room. There,” the captain pointed, “get warm. Once replacements have arrived, we shall talk.”

David entered the indicated room. Its fire warmed him, even through his cloak. Shrugging it off, he dumped it on the drying rack, then proceeded to get out of his sodden clothing. Sadly, everything in his pack was soaked too. But there were furs and other garments laying around, so he donned them and settled before the fire. Above it was a stew pot, so he served himself a bowl and ate.

Sometime later, the Captain of the Guard woke David, who had been lulled to sleep by the fire’s warmth. “Your clothes are dry. I have informed the Drake of your arrival. He is busy at present, but suggests you get warm and dry, then asks you to join him for dinner.”

“How is he?”

“He dines alone too often, and drinks too much. You being here will be good for him.”

“And his wife?” David asked.

“In Lorness, still recovering. It is whispered that she was violated. It is known she nearly died, and would have if the luggage boy had not run for help.”

“I heard he’d been killed.”

“Both drivers were. Her two lady’s maids were forced to watch as… I led the guards that went to their rescue. I sent my best trackers after the culprits. Despite the rumors, there were only two, maybe three. The fools left a trail behind them that a blindman could have followed as they took the carriage’s six horses. We recovered them in the first hamlet we came to, arrested the man who had bought them, then strung him up in its square. He still had the horses in his possession, so there was no doubt of his guilt.

“Nor were the locals upset. His wicked ways were known to many, but none had been able to prove he was a horse thief and worse.

“Another rogue had bought the countess’ jewelry. He was arrested and interrogated, providing very good descriptions before he succumbed to his wounds.

“As for the woman who bought the countess’ and her maids’ clothes, the last time I enquired she was still “helping the investigation” in some dungeon.’

“Clothes?” David asked.

“Surely, you heard all three women were found naked?”

“I dismissed it as exaggeration.”

“It was not. The younger of the two assailants – the one who did the raping – intended to enjoy all three women, but his partner dragged him away. A pity. If he had, uh, enjoyed even one of the maids, we would have caught him. As it is, those woods have been scoured of bandits and thieves.”

“And the tales of boys living rough out there?”

“True, but they do not harm anyone. And they have driven bandits into our ambushes, so we ignore them.”

“It’s good that there is some good news,” David responded.

“It’s what the earl lacks most. This has been a bleak hard time for him, even his faith wavers. Not so most would see, but I have served his family all my life. Indeed, once the  attackers are brought to justice, he has asked me to hand over my post to a younger man. I am too old to chase bandits across the countryside for days on end. Instead, he wants be to become one of his advisors. I have accepted.”

“More excellent news, and I have some of my own.” David smiled. “I am getting married in the next few months. She has accepted and her father has given consent.”

“Tell the Drake. That will lighten his mood enormously. Have you decided when and where the marriage feast will be held?”

“In Caswell!” Drake announced from the doorway. “You are my nephew. You must let me do this for you, and for all Caswell. We all need some good news. What better is there than the joining of two people together?”

“Uncle,” David began, only to be cut off by the Captain of the Guard.

“That is a magnificent idea. A proper wedding feast that everyone, highborn and low, can participate in.”

“But Cynthia and I had intended—” again, David got cut off.

“To hold the ceremony in some barn or field?” Drake dismissed the idea. “That will not do at all. No, it shall be held here in Caswell. It might even help Parynna’s recovery if she had something glorious to prepare. She is so good at the shiny things.”

“Uncle, I could not possibly—”

“Afford it? You shall not. It shall be my wedding present to you both. Surely, you would not deny your godfather such a boon, such an endeavor to lift my spirits and those of all Caswell? Of course not. Who are the girl’s parents? Where are they to be found? I shall write to them immediately.”

“They are missionaries who—”

“Who would prefer such profligate spending not be wasted on a single day’s extravagance? I understand. Thus, for every baden spent on your wedding, I shall donate two to their cause. Did J’shua not say to put others’ needs before thine own? And, in this way, I shall.”

“I do not think they shall accept your largesse, uncle,” David offered, hoping to find a way to nix this idea. All he and Cynthia wanted was a small wedding.

“But it shall not be my largesse. Mine is the largest circle in Freislicht. While I shall contribute to the wedding, it is they who will arrange and co-ordinate everything. What’s more, our circle has been looking for noble causes to support. Due to its size, we have almost an embarrassment of riches. Sharing them will bring J’shua’s blessings to all.”

David smiled. Cynthia had whispered to him of her dreams of being wed in a castle. She knew how unlikely it was, but only hoped to have the ceremony conducted within its walls, within an established circle. Caswell was all those things. It was more. And its circle wanted to support her parents’ work. Efforts that could desperately use more funding.

“I shall have to discuss it with my bride-to-be—”

“Then it is settled,” Drake declared, hugging his nephew.

“Of course, uncle,” David replied. How could he take such joy away from a man so in need of it.

“There is one potential hitch,” Drake’s brow furrowed. “No, it is easily fixed.”

“What—”

“There are those who think your father involved with the Mestels attacking across the border. It is, of course, nonsense. However, there is no need to risk spoiling you and your bride’s special day. We shall hold the wedding on the first day of the Royal Annual Hunt. In that way, all eyes will be focused on Farr Castle, none on Caswell.”

David just nodded. They had not set a date, let alone a location. Now, he had both. Plus, funding for her parents’ efforts, and the raising of the spirits of his uncle and an entire town. All dependent on his agreement. Therefore, the only answer was, “Yes, uncle.”

Chapter 24 - 145

Sarah

Locke Estate, Lexandria

Sarah leaned back on her elbows, dangling her feet in the garden pond, the little fishes tickling her toes, while she listened to Melyssa carry on about Kel’shan.

“Kel’shan is so handsome. His dark skin glows and his brown eyes are so deep. When I woke up this morning, I remembered the most beautiful dream. I was surrounded honeysuckle and primrose flowers and Kel’shan was there. I think it means something.”

Sarah giggled. “It means you like Kel’shan.”

Melyssa laughed. “Well, yes, that’s true. But does it mean I will marry him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But don’t base a choice like that on a dream alone. Ask J’shua.”

“I will. What do you dream of, Sarah?”

“Well, it is silly. I dream the same dream, but lately I remember more of it. I am carrying a bright sword—”

“Of course, you’d be carrying a sword.” Melyssa chuckled. “Everyone thinks it strange that you wear a wooden sword.”

Sarah laughed. “I know. I don’t care. It’s part of me. I miss it when I can’t wear it. But this is a different kind of sword, a magical sword. It gives off light and the people I stab with it are healed.”

“Healed? Do they jump up on their feet when moments before they were dying?”

“Sometimes. Other times, they stop crying and begin to smile. Do you think such a sword exists? Perhaps I will go on a quest to find this sword. Oh, but I am not alone. I am a queen and my king is beside me. What do you think?”

“You can’t have Kel’shan though.”

“I am not interested in your Kel’shan. I would never do that. I’m not old enough to be a queen yet. I am sure it’s way in the future, who knows how many kings will meet by then.”

The sun had lowered a few more degrees making there shadows grow into the water when they saw a servant approaching. Each girl noticed the other rolled her eyes and burst out laughing as the servant drew close.

The middle-aged servant’s face pinched. “Lady Melyssa, your mother the duchess is seeking you and miss Sarah.”

“What for,” Melyssa asked.

“She didn’t tell me that. It is enough that she calls for you to attend her.”

Melyssa sighed loudly. “Come, Sarah, Let’s go see what new torture she has planned for us.”

[Why? embroidery? Protocol. ]

Chapter 25

Blackhawk

Steven Blackhawk rubbed his temples, trying to get rid of the notion that had plagued him for the last day. It was normal to hear rumors while patrolling the road from High Keep to Fairness Crossing and back. Everything from fanciful tales of lads living wild in the woods, to robberies, to assaults, plus the occasional scandal.

The latest story was of some insane thief who gave away his ill-gotten gains to those less well off than himself. It was a ridiculous story, yet many swore by it. Just as many were still speaking of what had happened in Caswell. As usual, the tales were long on exaggeration and all-but-devoid of fact. He was sure they all had some grain of truth, even the stories manufactured by his patron, Gaelib Melazera contained a grain of truth. But how to pull the grain from the baked loaf?

Yet, a noble being accosted and badly wounded had everyone – up to and including Commander Taelor – on edge.

And that was what where his headache had originated. A conversation overhead along the road of someone saying that Taelor would soon be replaced for his failure to protect the powerful.

He’d trained his men to pay attention to the tavern gossip as they stopped along the long dusty road and report it to him.

It was nonsense. There were no patrols that visited Caswell regularly. It was an earldom that did not abut any of Freislicht’s main roads. Nor was it alone in that fact. Almost every noble’s castle or keep was in a similar situation. Indeed, only High Keep, Farr Castle, Lorness, and Lexandria had permanent roads leading to them. The first two cities belonged to the king. While the third belonged to the most powerful noble in Freislicht, and the fourth to its richest. Indeed, there was only one other large township on Freislicht’s roads, Fairness Crossing, which was the only major trade hub on the East River.

Five cities.

Only five, and even that was being generous. It included Fairness Crossing.

Yet the comment stayed with him.

And his anxiety worsened when he overheard two very drunk Black Robes on his first night in Fairness Crossing. “Taelor is done. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Shhh, lower your voice,” his companion slurred back at him.

“Why? Because some of these louts might overhear us? Let them. They should learn to obey their betters. We can read and write. What can they do, plow a field?”

Blackhawk considered intervening, then recalled Gaelib’s warnings about getting involved with Black Robes, some or all of whom belonged to Caileagh. Then again, he was not in uniform, so there was nothing tying him to the Army.

He stood and walked over to the bar. “Do you have a backroom I can hire for a couple of hours? I have friends who’d like to have a drink in private.”

“We have two,” the barman replied. “Both are vacant. One is better insulated than the other. It is also slightly larger. Five baden per hour.”

Blackhawk put thirty-two on the bar. “Three hours. Plus, two more baden for as much cheap ale as that’ll cover. And another fifteen so we’re not disturbed. At all. Once the door closes behind my two friends and I, no one interrupts us until we all come out. Clear?”

“For three more baden I can provide a roast chicken and better ale.”

Steven put another five on the bar. “You understand my instructions?”

“Of course, sir. And for ten more, I will forget your face forever.”

Blackhawk scowled and put another twenty on the bar. “If that is not everything, the two Black Robes over there are going to be very upset with you.”

“I had not realized you were referring to them.” The barman pushed twenty-five baden back across the bar. “No one will disturb them until they come out because you were never here.”

Pushing the baden back to the barman, he nodded, grabbed a jug of ale waiting on the bar, then turned to the Black Robes with an enormous smile on his face. As he crossed the floor to them, he staggered a little, spilling some. When he got to their table, he put the jug down on it, between them, then leaned forward and hissed, “The two of you are a disgrace to the Order. Assuming you don’t want to end your lives as Lady Melazera’s sacrifices, you will quietly get up from this table and follow me into the back room. Do anything to draw more attention to yourselves and you’ll not live long enough to regret your hangovers.”

“Who the dreck do you—” the loudmouth began.

The other slammed his hand over the first’s mouth. “We are sorry, docent. We meant no harm. What do you want us to do?”

“Have I not told you that already?” Blackhawk demanded, hoping his air of authority alone would be enough to get them into the back room.

Blackhawk stood up, woozily, slurring his words, “Theeze good men ‘av ‘ad too much ta drink. Letz get yah inta tha beck room and sober ep. Barkeep food and… shtuff.” He grabbed ‘Loudmouth’ by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to his feet.

The second man picked up the new jug, and the partially filled one still on the table, then followed Blackhawk into the back room.

Food was already there, plus three jugs of swill. Its color was not a healthy tan or brown, but more khaki as if something green had been added to it.

If this was the “better stuff” Blackhawk did not want to know what the cheap stuff was like. He’d picked the tavern at random after dismissing his men. He’d walked to the far end of town, then picked the first establishment he’d never visited before.

Dropping ‘Loudmouth’ into the farthest corner from the door, Blackhawk indicated the second Black Robe should sit beside his companion. He took a seat near the door, but without his back to it. These fools could have friends, or others, watching out for them. “Explain yourself.”

“I… I don’t know where to start,” the second Black Robe muttered, eyes focused on the table, as his friend let out a snore.

“It would seem you need to come up with some answers. If I had not been alerted to your previous poor behavior, I would not have taken the time to seek you out.”

“Honestly, the last time was exaggerated. It really was nothing.”

“And yet,” Blackhawk paused, leaning forward in his seat, “it was taken seriously enough by your superiors to be reported to me.”

“Then… then you aren’t a mere docent?”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he shook his head. “Do not be ridiculous. You should not even be using that title in public. Yet, you did so in front of witnesses, out in the bar. It is… possible… I can save you, if you prove to be useful. As for your… I do hope he was not a friend.”

“No. No, sir, he’s just someone I drink with… too often.”

“If you are aware of that, why are you endangering your own life – which I do not care about in the slightest – and the Order’s goals?”

“I… oh…”

“You will now explain to me, in detail, what that,” Blackhawk gestured at the snoring ’Loudmouth’, “has said in public in recent days. And remember, I already have testimony as to what has been overheard, so leaving anything out will not bode well for you.”

The conscious black-robe gulped. “I… uh… before he was a member of the Order, he was in the Army and cashiered out for stealing. He has the lash marks on his back to prove it. He blames Taelor. So, when we heard about his downfall…”

“Details. If I was interested in tavern gossip, I would have a barmaid on my knee. Not only would she be more informative, she would be better company. Do you need a drink before we continue? Or, perhaps food?” Blackhawk pushed the chicken towards the man, then pointed to the empty mugs beside the greenish-brown ale. “The barkeep’s best. Kept only for very special customers.”

The black-robe poured himself a drink.

“Details first,” Blackhawk insisted.

“Taelor is soon going to lead a patrol down from High Keep to Fairness Crossing. In the latter part of that trip, after visiting the Lion & Tiger Inn, his horse will sicken. The animal will have to be put down. As will many others. They will blame it on bad feed. That will get the Twin Kitties shut down. Then—”

“I said details, not your nicknames for things.”

“But that is what our docent calls it.”

“Do I look like someone as junior as your petty docent?” Blackhawk roared. He couldn’t give the other man time to think. He had to keep pushing, as long and as hard as possible. As for what he would have to do to these two, he pushed that out of his mind, again. He’d not survive if he left witnesses behind.

“I am sorry, Lord Docent. I—”

“What did I tell you about using the Order’s titles?”

“Not to do so… sir.”

“Better,” Blackhawk relented slightly. “Continue.”

“A side benefit of the plan is to get the Lion & Tiger Inn shutdown. The Order does not control it, has been unable buy it, nor drive the owner out. However, if the Army lost a large number of horses due to bad feed there, they would bypass it. Soon, others would do the same. Then the Order could set up replacements.”

“Where are those new inns to be?”

“I do not know, Lor… that is, sir.”

“Good. You should not know such details. Continue.”

“With at least half Taelor’s patrol on foot, they’ll have only three choices. Double-up riders and risk killing even more horses. Walk the horses back to base. Buy or commandeer more horses.”

“That does not explain Taelor’s death,” Blackhawk pointed out, his frown deepening.

“Whichever option he chooses, he will not walk. He will ride, alone. And whichever horse he gets on will be dosed. Minutes after eating the laced apple, the beast will become uncontrollable. It is possible it will throw and trample him. I may just throw him. Regardless, he will not survive the fall and its aftermath. If he is alive, he too will be poisoned.”

“And all of this has been blabbed in the last few days?”

The Black Robe’s eyes narrowed as his lips pressed tightly together. “Yes.”

“Drink,” Blackhawk instructed.

The man downed the entire mug then refilled it and downed a second.

“That is… almost… correct. It is disappointing that you have left things out.”

“I… oh… it was only mentioned once.”

Blackhawk raised his left eyebrow.

“The poisoner’s name… Tolli… Toolleev…” The Black Robe clutched at his throat, which was ballooning out to twice its size under the man’s hands. His eyes widened, then rolled up in his head as he collapsed back onto his snoring friend, waking him.

“What the…?” ‘Loudmouth’ pushed the bloating body off himself.

“Sit,” Blackhawk’s voice lashed out like a whip.

“I… oh dreck.” He raised his hands and sat at the table, with the overly controlled motions of someone who was seriously drunk.

“Your… colleague’s… answers were incomplete,” Blackhawk stated in a flat tone. “Worse, they attempted to conceal critical details that others have witnessed. If you are to have any chance at survival, you will be completely honest with me. Is that clear?”

“I… yes, but this is a misunderstanding.”

“How so?”

“I was sent to test him. Yet, any question you have, I will answer.”

Blackhawk nodded, wondering what the hell he’d stepped into.

“I have spent the last two moons establishing myself within his cell, reporting to his… advisor, while keeping my own informed.”

“Better than your predecessor. You did not use any of the Order’s titles.”

“I was horrified when he addressed you so. I do not know your rank within the Order, nor do I need to. You have handled this according to protocol, even to obtaining the poisonous greenish beer. How did you get him to drink it?”

Blackhawk smiled. “I am interviewing you, remember?”

“Thank you for confirming that. Had you answered my question, I would have known you were an imposter. Yet, I am surprised that your tone is so light.”

“Again, I am doing the questioning. As to what was overheard?”

The Black Robe looked at the table’s surface for several seconds. “Oh… I apologize.” He moved from the table and got down on his knees. “I had not appreciated… someone of your rank cannot be after this dead fool. Nor am I important enough to be your target. What has my docent done to displease you, lord?”

“The tale that was spun of assassinating Taelor was not approved.”

The Black Robe’s eyes widened. “I did not know. I could not know.”

“And that is why you are still alive. Taelor is becoming a problem. Not one that needs to be resolved, yet. However, rumors of plots against him will put him on guard. The weeding out of some petty acolyte will have consequences. It does not matter that the details of the moves against Taelor, and who will be involved, are wrong. It compromised long-standing preparations. Payment must be made for the inconvenience caused.”

“I… of course.” He stood and drank directly from the green-tinged beer.

Blackhawk watched him die. His mind churning. Somehow, the barkeep had identified him as a senior member of the Order of Black Robe. Perhaps it was their exchange. Perhaps it was with the baden passed back and forth. Whatever it had been, it was fortuitous.

There was, or would be, a plan to remove Taelor.

Part of Blackhawk wanted to rush north and meet the commander on the road. He knew that Taelor had planned to depart five days after Blackhawk had. But if this was a trap, and it felt like one, doing so would close its jaws on him.

No, that was not going to happen.

However, first thing the following morning, he would visit the local Herald Station and see what the most important outstanding warrant was. It could well be Jonathan Otual. Then again, that was unlikely this far south. Regardless, instead of his troops getting a three-day leave, they would be riding out at midday loudly proclaiming they had information on a notorious outlaw.

That it would turn out to be false was regrettable, but it happened. And even those in the Army got to share in the reward if they captured a criminal, so there would not be too much grumbling from the men.

After all, the way is clear when it is needed. Just as it had been this night.

Chapter 26

Parynna

Caswell Castle

Preening to ensure that her hair, dress, and understated jewelry were perfect, Parynna sighed at her reflection. Their first guest would arrive all too soon.

All she knew was that Cynthia Gardonet would be married to Jonathan Otual’s son, David, in three days’ time. The girl was pretty enough, if a little mousy, from what she’d been told. A suitable bride for a penniless Knight of J’shua.

Thankfully, Caileagh had taught Parynna how to wean Drake away from his relationship with J’shua by keeping him focused on superficial religious efforts. The Knights were not yet outlawed here, but it was inevitable. Their beliefs were in opposition to the Melazeras. Therefore, they had to go. Not that she’d permit their demise to affect Drake—or her. She’d worked too hard to ensure her husband’s position and good fortune.

That brought her thoughts back to hosting the ill-conceived wedding. Blast Drake. He sprang it upon her as if it was some wonderful surprise.

It would have been wonderful if she had known in advance, to alert Caileagh. Delivering David’s mother, or better yet, his father would have reaped bounteous rewards. They still would if Parynna could find some way to capture them.

She could not do so openly; it would cause a scandal, a blot on the Caswell name. No, that would not do at all. Worse still, Drake was being unusually close-lipped about whether David’s parents would attend. He had that abominable boyish glint in his eye that showed he thought he was doing something clever. And not even her best attempts to pry it out of him had worked. She feared he had more unpleasant surprises in store.

Then it struck her. She could turn this to her advantage without involving David directly. As a knight, the boy would inevitably leave his bride all too soon to go off on some pious quest. That would leave his new bride all alone.

Chapter 27

Owakar

Owakar whispered Words of Life to those that could hear him in Lorness,

[Love consists in this: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as the atoning sacrifice for sin.]

Even though the Warrior was away manipulating his latest plaything in Farr Castle, the gloom remained over Lorness as his minions stirred up misery. But the Book of Life always provided encouragement for himself, and sometimes for the earthly followers of J’shua in the Density.

His luach came alive. Line after line rose up. There would be a wedding in Caswell.

“Why is this of interest?” Owakar muttered to himself, flicking through the glowing words.

More words, more words, then finally, David Otual’s name was large and illuminated. He poked it to learn more. The son of Rebekah and Jonathan would marry soon.

“Will they go? Do they know?”

The Otual’s son had attracted the Warrior’s eye. Owakar sent a message to Temana, a lead guardian in Caswell. “Do you have everything in hand?”

“Peace, Owakar, you’re not the only competent one. We are ready to help them.”

Contrite, Owakar responded, “Yes, of course you are. I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t. The family has become special to me. But they don’t stay in one place like most of those entrusted to us.” The prayers of each Otual echoed from the Book of Life on Owakar’s luach. And it reminded him of the passage:

[Keep me from the snares which they have laid for me, and the gins of the workers of iniquity.]

Owakar paced up and down stone path.

I will need help. Certainly Rebekah will go. No sense of self-preservation in that woman. But will Jonathan attend?

He swiped and swiped looking for any information to help him plan for this fiasco. The Warrior will his minions there. Most likely, Melazera’s spies have informed him.

This is a disaster.

Chapter 28

Gregory Locke

Gregory Locke picked up the next document from the pile that had to be dealt with. A letter on quality paper in the all-too-recognizable font used by the Black Robes.

What now?

Breaking its wax seal showing the crest of Caswell, he was surprised. It was not another request from one of his siblings’ or daughters’ husbands seeking his support for this venture or that. Nor was it offering him the ‘unique opportunity’ to invest in some harebrained scheme that anyone with an ounce of practicality would reject. It was a wedding invitation for…

The date was familiar.

However, it was late and it had been a long day, ending with a heated row with his wife, Ellyth. That was, in part, why he was working at night in his private office.

It took a moment to recall, which he blamed on his ill-humor, his recent argument, and the significant quantity of wine he’d drunk.

Who would schedule a wedding at the same time as the Annual Royal Hunt?

The answer all too quickly became obvious when he read the husband-to-be’s name, David Otual. Even in the South, there were rumors of a Jonathan Otual. A Knight of J’shua who was – possibly – leading Mestels in raiding parties against the good people of Freislicht. Whether the stories were true, or just another Melazera lie, did not matter. Too many Northerners put credence in them. Thus, any prominent wedding that family name was associated with could draw unwanted attention.

So why is Drake Caswell hosting a lavish wedding for the lad?

Gregory had met Drake only three times. On the first occasion, Drake had still been a boy. The second had been at the feast celebrating Drake becoming a Knight of J’shua. The third and last had been at Drake’s wedding to Parynna Locke, yet another of Gregory’s female cousins.

Why has my family been ‘blessed’ with so many girl-children? I’ll admit it has allowed us to marry into every prominent family in the South, and quite a few in the North, but would a more even balance of boys and girls have been too much to ask?

Gregory sighed.

It was not that he believed in God, any god. But sometimes, in the dead of night, he found himself asking questions of the stone wall opposite his desk.

It never answered, of course. But it was a good listener.

He read the document again. The crest of the Earl of Caswell was affixed to the bottom of the letter. Therefore, a Locke had to go, otherwise the Caswells could take offence. And that Gregory could not afford.

The current Earl would find any excuse to resurrect his scheme to cut a road through the wilderness from Lexandria to Caswell. An utterly ridiculous idea that would never pay for itself. Not unless another road was cut from Caswell to Farr Castle. And that would take traffic off the already existing High Keep to Fairness Crossing Road. No banker or nobleman with interest in keeping the traffic where it was would back it, and they would also do everything in their power to stop it.

No, Gregory did not want to re-open that can of worms.

It had partially been to derail that idea that he’d suggested the Earl of Caswell’s youngest son – hardly a catch with four brothers between him and the title – should marry a Locke, who came with a substantial dowry.

Who to send?

What if…?

Gregory thought back to dinner.

Ellyth had come in fuming. Instead of moving gracefully, she clomped around the place, putting her whole weight down on every footstep, scaring and scattering servants out of her path. Her expression was still mild, sweet, even compassionate. But it was always her footfalls that spelled out her mood. Something so blatant even the newest servants swiftly learned to avoid her on such occasions.

‘Should I ask, or just wait for you to vent?’ he had inquired.

As expected, she turned on him. Her eyes widened. Her lips pressed tightly together. She stared at the two guardsmen that followed him everywhere, the two ladies-in-waiting that followed her, and the half dozen servants preparing to serve food, drink, and so on. Then, without a word, she sat and indicated they should serve.

The four-course meal was eaten in silence.

Gregory had no intention of saying something that could set her off in front of the servants. Anything could. It would embarrass her, only making the situation worse.

The servants, fully aware of what was going on, served food, cleared away plates, and offered more wine – or anything else – all without a word. Well, almost. A new servant opened her mouth and got out a single syllable before the butler’s eyes flared and he banished her from the room, with a gesture.

In an odd way, it was funny. At least, that was the way Gregory chose to look at it.

It was also the safest, having tried many different tactics over the years.

When they retired to their private quarters and the door closed behind them, she snapped, “How could you?”

He sat on the bed. “How could I… what?”

“How could you suggest that Kel'shan might be a suitable husband for Melissa!”

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you try that with me, Gregory Locke!” she snapped as she began pacing back and forth, her heavy footfalls a drumbeat on the floor. “I know all your delaying tactics.”

“I was trying to work out how you could have got that idea.”

“I… Because you said so!”

“Uh… no… I do not think that I did,” Gregory had demurred, thinking it might not be a bad match. South of the Shining Mountains, Kel'shan was a prince. And blood ties would bring the families together, which could be highly profitable, for both. However, even thinking that too loudly would set Elyssa off even worse.

“Melyssa told me you did,” his wife insisted.

“I most certainly did not tell her that I approved of Kel'shan. We have not even discussed her marriage prospects.”

“She said you approved of him!”

“She may have overheard me say he was an admirable young man. What else would you expect me to say when—”

“You admit it!”

“I was speaking to Kel'shan’s uncle. Of course, I praised the boy.”

“You… what?” Ellyth paused, momentarily still.

“I was speaking to his uncle, Kel’sek. You know I am trying to increase trade between them and us. Kel’sek had asked what I thought of his nephew. I replied. That’s all.”

“I…” Ellyth took a step, a soft one. “Melyssa said you thought he would be a good husband for her.”

“Perhaps,” slipped from his lips.

“What did you just say?”

Knowing he had put his foot in it, he went on the offensive. The only alternative was capitulation, and it was not in him to do that. Not even for Ellyth. “I said that, given you had raised the prospect, he might be a reasonable match.”

“How can you say that?”

Gregory pinched the bridge of his nose. The argument had gone downhill from there. He had, eventually, left the bedchamber to her rather than say something he could not take back.

What if… Melyssa represented the Lockes at this wedding? She could take Sarah with her as a companion, plus the usual small entourage of servants and bodyguards. That would get her out of Lexandria for almost three weeks… if she travels east to Fairness Crossing, north up to the Lion and Tiger, then west to Caswell. That would certainly be a more gentle path than going north and cutting through virgin bush.

What’s more, to arrive on time they will have to leave almost immediately, catching Kel’shan and his uncle off-guard. I have promised to take them both hunting, and been putting it off.

If I surprise them first thing tomorrow, Ellyth can… yes… this will also soothe things over with her. Especially if I can phrase things correctly and she thinks this was her solution. That will give me happy guests, a happy wife, and an annoyed daughter who looks far too greedily at Kel’shan.

Gregory looked out the window at the moon. The sky was beginning to pale. Perhaps he would have Danyth take Kel’shan and Kel’sek hunting. He still had to woo Ellyth around and he was in need of sleep.

Chapter 29

Drake

Caswell Castle

Garlands of freshly cut flowers hung everywhere. Servants set trestle tables for the townsfolk he’d invited to the feast following the wedding.

Drake bustled about the castle, delighted by his Circle’s well wishes for his friend’s son and bride.

Drake knew David wanted this to be a small affair, but this was a day for celebration. A day to be remembered. A day on which he could indulge a young man he thought of as a son.

He would never have a son of his own. Parynna had informed him she was barren after she lost the baby. He loved her. He would never replace her. So what if one of his uncles’ sons would one day inherit the earldom from him? It was an irrelevance.

Today, he would rejoice.

He regretted he could not share with his wife why he was so caught up in the preparations, but he did not want to cause her pain. He did not want her thinking back to the atrocity that had almost broken them. No. This was his burden to shoulder. He would not let her suffer. And she was so happily engaged in her charities that he didn’t want to distract her.

Of course, the last surprise he still withheld: David’s mother would attend in disguise. He wondered how long it would take for Parynna to identify Rebekah bedecked in clothes and make-up that transformed her into an old crone.

It’s going to be splendid! Oh, she is here!

Chapter 30

Jonathan

New Moon, Late Spring, Woods Outside Caswell

Jonathan tromped through the glade where he usually ran into one of the young sentries. He visited James of the Wood and his boys whenever he passed nearby one of his camps. There was one in the woods outside of Fairness Crossing, Lexandria, and Caswell. He usually found them near Caswell because Drake Caswell, the earl, did not have much of a military presence. The original brothers were now men. James was twenty-one. But they had taken in new cast-off children. This time, he found them outside Caswell. Today he expounded on the creed of the Knights of J’shua.

[Endeavor to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body, and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling; One Lord, one faith, one baptism, One God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in you all.]

When he finished speaking, a boy ran up with a message for James of the Wood. After James read it, he shot Jonathan a face-splitting grin and shared the news of David’s wedding.

Somehow, one of James’ tribe had learned that Jonathan’s son, David, now a Knight of J’shua on his first mission, would take a wife. Further, the earl had offered to hold the ceremony in Caswell, only a day’s ride away. Jonathan wondered how James was so well informed.

With all his heart, he wanted to attend. Yet he knew that if he did, men would be there to ambush him. Worse, if that happened, it would ruin the happy couple’s day and could have them seen as accomplices.

No, the sensible thing is to stay away…or…perhaps, watch from afar.

After eating with the boys, he prayed about it. He received no guidance. All would become clear. Then he would make up his own mind. Pushing the matter aside, he slept.

In the morning, he was sure. He had only one son. It might also be an opportunity to encounter Rebekah. Surely, she would not miss the event either.

Having decided, he spoke to James of the Wood. “I need a way into Caswell, but not as myself. No one must recognize me. It would put my son and his new bride in peril. Can you get me there in time? Do you have—”

“Finally! A way we can repay you, a little.” James beamed. “I’m sure we can help. Come. Look at some things that have…uh, fallen…into our possession.”

“You have not been stealing, have you?”

“No. We merely follow the examples of lords and their stewards…charging a small toll to those who wander through our woods. We don’t seek them out. And we’ve not hurt anyone. And most were more than willing to help orphans.” His eyes twinkled. “You told us Lord J’shua would provide. He has.”

“James,” Jonathan shook his head at the irrepressible youngster, “when there is time, we need to have a long talk.”