| |
LORICA’S THOUGHTS DRONED in her mind like a hive of bees—a constant chatter that had no end. She should never have left Tuluva with her children. Jareth never should have left either but how could she have stopped him? Why did the Healer send her to Kolada, to Lord Sylvester’s wizard? Was it an honest mistake, or did she know the baron was abducting children? Lorica didn’t often get angry at people, but if Airmed intentionally sent Kandace and Crispin into a trap, she’d like to find the woman and show her the sharp edge of her sword! She shuddered, thinking about the power the Healer had that day, the words she spoke, the deception she used to coerce Lorica into making such a disastrous trip. And now her husband is in worse peril. And here she was riding a king’s horse with her back turned from the manor, the gateway, and her family!
She looked over her shoulder at the soldiers who rode with her. Sympathy dulled their eyes—woefully misplaced sympathy.
“Do not pity me,” she said. “I put them in this position, you know,” she slowed her horse and let one soldier ride up to her. “I deserve no benevolence.”
“I wouldn’t say that Milady. Your husband knew the danger of stepping down that hatch. He did it for your children. I’m a father too. I would make the same sacrifice.”
“He wouldn’t have had to make any sacrifice if I hadn’t brought our children here.”
“On the contrary,” the other soldier interrupted. “This is not the only place children are being abducted. I hear Ogress has had their share of missing persons. Whatever is happening to the young people has become universal. Don’t blame yourself.”
“I blame myself that I can do nothing to get them back.”
“You’re doing what needs to be done. Take your concerns to Commander Neal.”
She sighed and turned around. It made no sense in trying to convince these men of her guilt. “What’s your name, soldier?” she asked the dark-haired man.
“Lenneth, Milady.”
“Lenneth, thank you for your encouragement. I hope your family remains safe.”
“Thank you.”
The trail into Kolada no longer glowed with autumn colors. The rain had muddied the way, the leaves now fallen, leaving limbs bare. She felt as cold and naked as the winter trees—alone and stripped of everyone she loved. She held back the tears, and rode stern-faced into the village. Joined by other soldiers once there, she soon found herself surrounded and in a way, relieved to not be exposed to the inquisitive eyes of street merchants and pedestrians.
“Commander!” Lenneth moved to the head of the ensemble when they stopped at the blacksmiths. Benjamin Duringham had warned her about Hadley nearly a month ago. Odd that she should return, humbled and ashamed she hadn’t heeded his warning. He must have recognized her for as Lenneth talked to Neal, the blacksmith gave her a knowing glance.
“Milady,” Lenneth came to her side and offered a hand down from her horse. Once on the ground, she straightened the wrinkles from her skirt and tucked her loose hair into her braid. He led her to the commander, who bowed cordially.
“There’s no need for formalities, commander. I’m a lowly peasant woman and I’m humbled by the attention you’ve given me, but also by the kindness our king displayed in risking his life for my husband and my children.”
“Did he say anything before he...left?” the commander asked. “These men tell me he stepped through a gateway to the Neverworld. What do you know about this?”
“I saw the trap door, the vapor that seeped through the floor, the dark pit in which my husband and the wizard went in. The door slammed shut and they were gone. Our king asked me to come tell you these things, that he and Lady Anna were going to follow and that I should give you word.”
“Did he have any orders for me?” The officer asked, scratching the stubble on his cheek.
“He only said you’d know what to do.”
The commander nodded, though he didn’t appear too confident. He glanced at the blacksmith before he addressed her.
“I can have someone escort you home,” he began. “Jynifyr and some of the women soldiers—"
“No!” She spoke too abruptly, but he had to understand. “I’m sorry, sir, but if I don’t do something to help I’m afraid the burden would be too great. I cannot go home and wait. King Barin gave me permission to ride with you. I would be most appreciative if you allowed me that privilege. I feel responsible for all of this.”
The commander’s eyes widened, and his face reddened. “Yes, well if I knew just where I was going—or if I’m going anywhere.”
“If I may, sir,” Benjamin chuckled. “The miss is welcome to stay here with my daughters until you decide. In the meantime, I have maps.”
“Maps?” He straightened at the word and looked around at his soldiers. “Sargent Jynifyr!” he called.
A stately young woman clothed in armor sat tall and proud in the saddle and nudged her horse up to the commander.
“Take troops with you to the baron’s house and stand guard, inside and out. Make it your quarters until the king returns and when he does I want a rider to inform me immediately. Check the stables and tend to any horses there. Sylvester might be a tyrant, but his stock is valuable and I’m sure the king intends to confiscate any horses he left behind. We want to keep them healthy.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“And don’t’ go near that trap door.” Neal took her hand and squeezed it. “Be safe and feel free to call for reinforcements if you need them.”
“I will, Neal,” she said and gave Lorica a cold look before she rode off with a brigade of men and women soldiers.
Benjamin signaled for the commander and Lorica to follow him into his cruck house where a warm fire burned in the hearth, and a woman had just taken a kettle from its flames. It was a humble home with a few wooden stools, an oil lamp, and a hand woven rug where a cat sat comfortably in front of the fire.
“Commander, Lorica, these are my daughters Rose and Siera.”
The commander bowed cordially, and Lorica nodded to the young women.
“If you ladies will excuse us, the commander and I have work to do,” the blacksmith said.
Rose took Lorica’s hand and led her into the kitchen while Siera followed with the kettle. A clay oven built from rock rumbled softly with a fire, and the stone shelves that protruded out from the walls reflected the flame. One small window above the counter allowed daylight in, but oil lamps illuminated the rest of the quarters. A large wooden table assumed space in the center of the room and a set of ornate hand-forged cutlery had been set in front of her. Next to it was an artfully crafted wrought iron cauldron.
“It must be lovely being the daughter of a blacksmith,” Lorica commented admiring the handiwork.
“Father makes the most beautiful things,” Rose said. “You must tell us about yourself. It’s not often we have overnight guests, although I’m glad you’re here. You wouldn’t want to stay at the inn these days.”
“Why?” she asked, accepting the tankard of mead Siera placed in front of her. The attractive, sandy-haired young lady sat across from Lorica with her own drink. Lorica guessed she was the younger of the two. They were both pretty women with hazel eyes and rosy cheeks. Siera leaned toward her and spoke in confidence.
“Kolada is in the midst of rebellion, and the men who drink at the inn often fight among themselves because no one knows what exactly it is they want. If anything, they’re rude to women. Father keeps us here, away from the ruffians.”
“I’m thankful for the safe place to stay,” Lorica smiled.
“It’s safe, for now. But I worry about Father letting the commander and the king’s men stay here. People are angry.”
“Why?” Lorica took a sip of her mead and held back a cough. Rarely did she consume ale and found it amusing that these young ladies drank it like water.
“It wasn’t long ago many of our fellows were arrested and taken to Prasa Potama. We haven’t heard from them since. There’s talk that they might have been hanged. Some of the men are arming themselves, waiting to find out for sure. If it’s true, your commander is going to have some fighting to do if he wants to save his skin.”
Lorica set her cup down and leaned back as Siera continued.
“Then again, there are those in this village who align themselves with the baron, and who have nothing good to say about the rebels. Those people are preparing nooses in case our men folk show up again. They say what King Barin doesn’t do to them, they will. In any case, a huge bonfire is smoldering! As for me!’ she nodded toward a collection of swords on the wall. “I will see to it they don’t touch my man when he returns.”
“Who are you talking about?” Rose asked with a smile.
“Don’t be naïve, you know who I’m talking about,” Siera took a drink and smiled at Lorica.
“Why are you here? Why are you traveling with the King’s soldiers?” Siera asked Lorica.
“My children are missing,” Lorica said. “I made the mistake of listening to a healer and brought my son to the baron on the pretense that he could heal him.”
“Oh, my lands soul you did make a mistake!” Siera said. “The baron isn’t trustworthy! Who would ever tell you such a tale?”
“The healer suggested my son would be cured if he saw Lord Sylvester’s wizard.”
“What ails him?”
“Seizures.”
Siera nodded and looked at her sister. “Afflicted. And then the boy disappears. How many times have we heard that story? It’s a plague created by magic, and many say Lord Sylvester himself is the sorcerer. That healer wouldn’t by any chance be the witch Airmed?”
Lorica held her breath and nodded.
“You poor child, you’ve been tricked and I’m sorry it cost you so much. What is the damage?” Rose asked.
“Both my son and daughter disappeared, and now my husband went into the Neverworld to look for them and I’m afraid they may never return.”
Silence followed, with only the low drone of men’s voices in the other room. The commander and the blacksmith were making plans, discussing options, in the hopes they might produce a solution.
“Is there a portal in the baron’s manor?” Siera asked quietly.
Lorica bit her tongue and nodded, not knowing if she said too much already but desperately needing someone to talk to.
“I knew it!” Rose snapped. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“We all knew it. Did you see it?” Siera asked Lorica. “The gateway?”
“I did,” she whispered and fidgeted with her skirt tie. “Please don’t tell anyone else. I don’t think it would be safe for the commander and his men if there were rumors.”
“Not a word,” Rose promised.
“I’m assuming these soldiers are planning a way to find your children? What an honor for you! Tell them there are a dozen parents here in Kolada that would like the same assistance.” Siera’s tone reeked of envy.
“Where is the king?” Rose asked. “We heard he rode to the baron’s manor. He didn’t by any chance follow your husband through that trap door, did he?”
Lorica said nothing, but Siera slammed her tankard on the table and walked to the fireplace.
Lorica glanced into the room where the commander was. Both he and the blacksmith were leaning over a map spread out on the floor.
“How is it a peasant woman has dealings with a king and his army?” Siera questioned. Her demeanor seemed to be accusing her of something. What exactly, Lorica didn’t know.
“I made the trip from Tuluva to meet my husband in Prasa Potama. He was a prisoner but was released. It was our witness that brought the king here today.”
Siera pivoted to face her. “Your husband was the king’s prisoner? For what crimes?”
“He was falsely accused of insurrection. I believe he was with the men from your village at the time of his arrest.”
“And he was released? Where are the others?” Siera flushed with anger.
Lorica stood, fearful she had said something wrong or done something to offend the woman.
“Easy, Siera,” Rose said. “This woman isn’t responsible for your betrothed’s imprisonment.”
“No. But I wonder why her husband was released and Kayden was not.”
“I have no answers,” Lorica said. “Only that I pleaded my husband’s innocence.”
“Then you should have pleaded innocence for all the men who were fighting for their families!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Unless your husband was the one...”
“Siera!” Rose interrupted.
“If the king found him innocent, and not our men, what would you assume was the reason, Rose?” Siera spun to face her sister.
“I wouldn’t assume anything.”
“You know Mel’s home was burned to the ground that day, and no one knows who set off the fire.”
“Why would you assume her husband did it?” Rose asked.
“Because he was released!” Siera turned to Lorica, fire in her eyes. “Tell me!”
“I wasn’t there. I don’t know.”
“Is your husband a mercenary?” Siera spat.
“Siera, stop now!” Rose came between the two and held them apart. “Lorica is Father’s guest, Siera. We’re going to treat her as such.” With a smile, she took Lorica’s hand. “Let me show you to your room.”
“Thank you,” Lorica said as politely as she could, hoping dread hadn’t made its face known. Lorica practiced being calm in tense situations, but it wasn’t long ago she killed a man defending Lady Anna. Being alone in the face of danger had brought out a part of her she didn’t know existed.
The small closet Rose offered Lorica smelled as if it had previously been a pantry. Dusty bins that had once held root crops were tipped ajar, their edges not level enough to close. Baskets sat upon the shelves, some with leafless sticks that may have been flowers at one time. Wooden ledges only small enough for bottles of herbs, some still filled with dry leaves protruded from the walls.
“Please excuse the untidiness of the chamber. We have only a humble cottage and neither Siera nor I have been near this chamber for months.
“I’m happy to have a place to sleep. Thank you,” Lorica said.
A pile of straw filled the far corner of the room, and it was here that Lorica threw down her cloak to make a bed.
The little she had seen of Kolada confused her. A wealthy baron who owned the most expensive horses in the world, ruled over a restless village in want of decent shelter and from what she had observed of the market, lack of fresh food. She wondered how well these people would survive the winter.
The village had to have been more bountiful at one time. As well-off as the blacksmith and his family seemed to be, their possessions were scant compared to the rich lifestyle she had enjoyed at the baron’s manor. A man who churned iron into tools would be wealthier than others in the village, but Benjamin showed no sign of hoarding or lording over his neighbors, and that was perhaps the reason his political neutrality was tolerated. His skills were needed if the village were to wage war in the future.
But his daughters, especially Siera, displayed hostility toward her, and should the woman find out her husband was, indeed, a mercenary who fought for the Crown against her betrothed, Lorica might have to defend herself. It was a good thing she brought along her sword. She may need it, though she hoped she could make peace with the sisters instead.