CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE TOWN OF ASHTON

Rayner went to see his mother the following morning as his men were mounting up to leave. Elana looked a little better, but sadness still haunted her eyes. Rayner was taller than his mother now, and she had to reach up to kiss his cheek.

“You take care of yourself, Rayner,” she said. “My sweet son, my young knight.”

He hugged his mother for a long moment, assuring her that he’d be back before she knew it. Then, he turned to leave and join his men. He knew his mother would stand in her window of the tower and watch him ride away, just as she had when the boat took away her daughter.

At the gates, Rayner embraced his father.

“I’m so proud of you, son,” Magnus whispered in his ear, then stepped back as Correlyn approached. Tears slipped down her cheeks as Rayner hugged her and said that he’d be back in only a few weeks. He tried to assure her that it was just a scouting mission and that his men would likely grow bored.

Rayner leaned back and caressed her cheek, smiling despite the growing pain in his heart. “Correlyn, I—”

She cut off his words, pressing her lips to his. Rayner drew her in closer, running a gloved hand through her midnight hair. His stomach danced as Correlyn parted her lips, inviting Rayner in for another kiss. He wished so badly to stay in this moment forever, but Rayner knew that forever was just around the corner. Forcing himself to step back, Rayner pressed his lips to her brow. “I’ll see you soon.”

Correlyn smiled, her gray eyes sparkling, “Come back to me.”

“Always.”

Rayner mounted his horse and rode through the gates with his men, looking back every few minutes until Correlyn was just a dot on the horizon. Godstone was gone.

It took only two days for Rayner and his men to reach the town of Ashton. They set up camp. A few men went down to the river to break up the ice so that they could fish. Ser Caster was Rayner’s second in command. He was about the same age as Rayner’s father but with more gray running through his dark hair. Rayner had a tent to himself that had been set up on a hill overlooking the town. He’d never been to this town before, but it seemed familiar to him. He remembered his father telling the story of Helvarr’s banishment and the battle that had taken place there over nineteen years ago.

The town was small, but it was alive with people at work doing their daily chores. Rayner walked through the town alone, looking at the new houses and workshops that lined the dirt street. The village had fallen to a fire set by the raiders back then. His father had been too late to save them all. Many of the villagers had perished in the fire or been slaughtered by the raiders that stormed the village.

Looking at it now, one could never tell that it was once the victim of war. No scorched wood touched the houses, no charred bodies lay in the street. The only noises belonged to the wind, children laughing, and the occasional whinny of a horse. Rayner couldn’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for his father to banish his closest friend. Magnus had only been a few years older than Rayner was now, but with the entirety of a kingdom resting on his shoulders. Rayner was in no rush to claim his father’s throne and would be glad to see his father’s reign last until Rayner had a son of his own.

They spent their days sparring in the open field, fishing the river, and hunting the nearby wooded areas surrounding the village. A local innkeeper had been happy to offer Rayner a room for his stay, saying that they were forever indebted to House Blackbourne. Rayner was grateful but declined the offer, preferring to stay with his men at the camp. He thought of Correlyn every minute and wondered how she was doing back home. Their relationship was very new, but already Rayner knew that he had fallen deeply for her.

He often wondered if their trip to Temple City had brought them together. Rayner even considered the fact that it was the raiders who had brought them together. If it hadn’t been for them, Lady Oharra wouldn’t have come to Godstone so often over the past few years. He pushed that thought out of his head, not wanting something so bad to be the reason for something good. Surely the gods had brought Correlyn to him for a reason— one he couldn’t figure out yet.

He also thought about Ivy down in Kame Island, wondering how she’d taken the news of their grandfather’s death. He hoped their father told of his sacrifice. A pit had been forming in Rayner’s stomach since that day, and guilt consumed him. He couldn’t help but think that his harsh words had caused Lord Harald to sacrifice his life. He had been unable to look at his mother in the days that followed, fearing that she’d sense his guilt and blame him for killing her father. Somewhere inside, he knew that wasn’t true, but those were the dark thoughts that crept around him at night when he was alone, trapped inside his own mind.

Rayner tucked his hands into his chest plate as he walked down the streets of Ashton. They’d been there for over a week now and would begin to break down camp in a few days to head back home. He heard the clang of metal being pounded and followed the noise down the street, sticking his head into a small shed at the end of the road. A man not much older than Rayner was working at a sword. He dropped it into a pail of water, the sword hissing at the liquid that cooled it. The smith stopped his work when Rayner entered the shed and greeted the young knight. Many of the villagers knew him by now in the small amount of time that he’d spent there. There was a feeling of respect that emanated from them that Rayner felt he hadn’t earned. If his father weren’t King Magnus, these villagers might not treat him so well. Rayner was careful not to take advantage of their kindness.

The smith smiled at him. “Can I help you with something, Ser?” Rayner pulled out a small piece of cloth that held an obsidian stone and told the smith what he wanted. The man smiled at him and said that he would be honored to make it, telling Rayner to come back in two days.

Rayner walked back to his tent, feeling nervous about what he was going to say to Correlyn when he returned home. He’d found the smooth stone lying on the beach of Godstone just before he was knighted. He’d been feeling anxious about the ceremony and had decided to take a walk on the beach to clear his head. Rayner sat down on one of the many boulders that lined the shore when the stone caught his eye. The beach used to be filled with them, or so his father claimed. But people had been digging them for years to sell or trade for other goods.

When Rayner spotted the obsidian stone sitting on top of the sand, he decided that it had to be a sign from the gods. Anyone else could have easily spotted its smooth black surface that still shone in the light. He picked it up and decided then that he would save it and make it into a ring.

Rayner had come to know Correlyn over the past few years but had only grown to love her in the last few months. Though he hadn’t spoken the words to her yet, he was sure she felt the same. Rayner spent many nights in his tent going over what he’d say to her, how he would propose and what her reaction might be. He feared that she would say no, out of fear of what Lady Oharra might say. He wondered what his father would think, and how his mother would react. He was so afraid that the queen would spiral into the darkness that sucked her in after the fall of Harper Hall. Rayner never wanted to see his mother like that again.

His mind drifted to Ivy, and he smiled, thinking about how she would react to the news. His sister was his best friend, and Rayner knew that she’d be happy for him and Correlyn. Rayner wondered how much she’d changed over the last few months, if at all. Rayner could still picture her standing before him at the docks, tears welling her eyes as Rayner gifted her the dagger he’d won years ago. It broke his heart to let his sister go, but he wanted her to be safe. He had no choice but to trust his father and pray to the gods to keep his sister safe on her journey.

The night before they left Ashton, Rayner sparred with Ser Caster in an open field. The night was cold, but the crisp wind felt good on his face and filled him with life. Fires from the camp cast an orange glow on the thin sheet of snow that covered the field, and shadows of his men danced around them as they cheered on the two knights. Rayner made the first move, slicing toward Ser Caster’s chest. His armor screeched under the blade, and he slid away, throwing up his sword as Rayner’s came crashing down. The men cheered Rayner on, and his eyes grew with excitement as the adrenaline began to run through him. He swung his sword over the knight’s head, dropping him to one knee.

Ser Caster thrust his blade forward, landing it in Rayner’s chest. The swords were dull, but Ser Caster’s strength managed to put a dent into Rayner’s new armor. He grunted and brought his sword down, catching the knight on his hand as he tried to block the blow. Ser Caster dropped his sword, and Rayner held his blade to the knight’s throat before giving him a playful tap on the cheek. The men cheered to Rayner’s victory, and he threw his hands in the air to accept their praise as Ser Caster plowed into him.

His sword was thrown from his grasp as he landed in the snow. The men cheered even louder, their laughter filling the air as Ser Caster crawled on top of Rayner, laughing at his negligence.

“Keep your eye on the enemy, young knight,” Ser Caster said as he struggled to pin Rayner. He couldn’t help but smile, and his men’s cheers only filled him with more fight. They rolled through the snow, flattening it beneath their weight until Rayner came within reach of his sword. Ser Caster snatched his arm back, and Rayner shifted a leg loose and threw his knee into the knight’s side.

They both grunted with pain, and Rayner made a break for it. He slipped in the snow, his cheeks hot from laughter and exertion. Ser Caster grabbed at his foot from behind, and Rayner quickly scooped up a pile of snow and turned, throwing it in the knight’s face. His gloves and boots were soaked through, but he didn’t care. As soon as Rayner touched the hilt of his sword, something sharp cut down his back, and the men burst into laughter. Ser Caster shoved a pile of snow down his armor, and the cold was like a hundred piercing daggers.

Ser Caster was forming another piece of snow when Rayner grabbed the sword and swung it around, holding it to the knight’s face. Ser Caster smirked and dropped the snow, throwing his hands up in submission. They both burst out into tears, clutching their stomachs as they laughed.

The next day was their last in Ashton, and Rayner went back to the smith’s shop to fetch the ring. The day was bright and unusually warm for winter, the first sign that spring was on the way. The field where he fought Ser Caster the night before was slick with mud and melted snow. He breathed in the fresh air and knocked on the door to the shed. When the smith answered, Rayner greeted the man and followed him into the workspace. He unfolded the piece of cloth that Rayner had given him a few days ago.

A small silver ring sat inside it with the obsidian stone set in the middle. When Rayner held it up, the sun coming in from the door caught the silver, and it shone like a star. His heart fluttered at the thought that his plan was coming into play, and this was real. He was going to ask the woman he loved for her hand in marriage. He paid the smith handsomely for the ring and thanked him before leaving. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the small silver band as he walked back up to the camp that was already being torn down. Rayner put the ring into the piece of cloth and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket, safe below his armor.

The next day, with Ashton well behind them, Rayner ordered his men to stop and camp for the night. They would reach home tomorrow, and the thought of that filled his head with excitement. The land was scarcely wooded, mostly consisting of open fields and a few swamps that still lay frozen. After his men set up a tent for Rayner, a few of them went off to hunt the wooded areas and came back hours later, dragging a boar behind them.

That night they feasted on the massive boar, and Ser Caster made a toast in honor of Rayner and his future happiness with Correlyn. Rayner blushed as the men cheered and hooted from around the camp but lifted his horn to the sky anyway, accepting their good fortune. Rayner slept soundly that night, dreaming of Correlyn’s beautifully dark hair and sharp gray eyes that haunted him in the most wonderful way. Instead of being greeted by the sun that morning, Rayner was jerked awake to the sound of a horn. The call ran through him down to his bones. It only meant one thing. Raiders.