Trent ch 2

Chapter Two

When next the traveler woke, it was a bright, clear, and cloudless morning morning. There was not a cloud in the sky. Nathaniel loved it when the sky did that after a storm. It was so peaceful that if one did not look at the mud he was trudging through, he would forget that there was a storm the night before. This was one such morning. The woman had set out a breakfast for him in the room that he slept in, but he never saw her. It was as if she had disappeared. He came down the stairs and noticed a tall, skinny lad working in the forge, but no breath-taking woman. He was surprised to find customers already crowding the store that early in the morning, but the man in charge, Ivan—he said his name was—had helped him get on his way after tending to a few customers.
The only testimony of last night\'s storm was the muddy ground. So muddy that Nathaniel would need another bath when he got back to the palace. And his borrowed clothes would have to be washed as well before he could return them. If he could ever remember the way. A small boy led Nathaniel on his horse through numerous, unrecognizable alley-ways and streets before Nathaniel saw something of Corus that he recognized. Truly, he had never traversed this part of the city before today. If it weren’t for the boy, he would surely get lost, and then be in even more trouble when he arrived at the palace.
The palace!
He was supposed to have been back at the palace two days ago! But he had gotten waylaid by roadway bandits, and then last night he was sheltered in the armoury near the gate, but there was no way that he could possibly find his way back there.
The armoury. Owl’s Armoury, he remembered it to be called. But who was the master there? Surely not the woman. Who ever heard of a female blacksmith? But then again, Aunt Alanna and Aunt Kel were lady knights, and there were more female pages and squires in training because of their success. It wouldn’t be all that unlikely for the woman to at least be the owner of the store, if not the blacksmith herself.
Why would she not give me her name, even though I tried to reveal my own identity first. And I swore by the gods that I meant her no harm. Even then, she wouldn’t give me her name. She doesn’t seem to trust easily. And yet, she helped me. She took me in and sheltered me during the storm. Mithros! She even fed and clothed me!
Why did she not trust me then? Perhaps she had a few bad experiences with nobles before; but maybe she just didn’t meet the right nobles. I could fix that, he thought, But I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave the palace again, what with my doubtless punishment to come. “Excuse me, boy. But could we go any faster? You see I’m late, and I don’t want to get in too much trouble with my master.”
Nathaniel was a young man of nineteen, with black hair like his mother’s, but wavy like his father’s. He also had the blue eyes, broad back and shoulders, height, and command of his father. But his temperament was more like that of his mother’s. As he rode his horse towards the center of Corus, and then on towards the palace gates, the crowd silently moved aside. Nathaniel may not be a crown prince, but his father was very high up in the ranks, and all the common people knew a noble in a hurry when they saw one.
Nonetheless, Nathaniel galloped the long ride up the hill to the palace with a storm over his head, despite the clear skies. What kind of punishment would he receive this time? Last time, he wasn’t allowed to leave the palace for over a month. Maybe, if he explained his case well enough, or got someone else to, he’d get a lesser punishment. But how was he to explain his case without appearing rude? Or insane! Perhaps his knight master, Sir Merric of Hollyrose would come to his aid—if only he could speak to him before Sir Wallace found out.
Nathaniel’s plans came crashing down around his ears when he walked through the palace gates. There he saw Sir Merric, Sir Owen, Sir Alanna, and Sir Wallace, preparing to ride out the gates at a charge. To find him.
“Squire Golden Lake!” Sir Wallace yelled. “Where in the nine hells have you been?”
Here comes the tirade for about an hour, Nathaniel thought, and then the punishment: no trips to the market. Which means no chance to find out more about the woman. Gods! Why wouldn’t she tell me her name!

You were waylaid by bandits? How long ago? You were expected to return a week ago. How do you expect us to believe your story when you look fit as a fiddle!” Sir Wallace was furious. They had been talking for over an hour already. And still no headway. Nathaniel had been waylaid by bandits somewhere off the Great Road from Port Legayn and Corus, but he could not for the life of him remember how long ago that was. He was sure that he was only a few days late, not a whole week! That wound in his side must have been worse than he thought, if he had lost track of that much time! But, how then, was the woman able to heal him so well? Was she a hedgewitch as well as weaponry-store owner? No. Impossible.
“Nathaniel?”
No answer.
Nathaniel had completely forgotten where he was. His mind had gone back to last night. The woman was leaning over him, stitching up his middle. She had beautiful eyes. Deep, dark blue and green eyes that danced their way into his soul. Her lips were red and full, almost pouting for a kiss. Her nose was small and delicate, but her chin was stubborn. That was alright—Nathaniel liked that in girls. Her hair was dark brown, and soft. He had felt it when it fell out of its braid to brush his cheek while she was stitching, And he felt it again when she had ordered him to rest his arm on her small head while she wrapped cloth around him. Her arms were so slender; her hands gentle, but strong. She was like the woman Nathaniel only heard of in dreams or fairy tales! She was—
“Nathaniel!” He was jerked back into reality. “Where is your head, boy? Have you been day-dreaming all this time? Now tell us just where you have been and what you have been doing that made you a week late?”
“This is serious, Nathaniel. You could lose your place as my squire and go back to being a page if you went gallivanting off on your own while on a mission for the crown.” Sir Merric’s eyes were serious. Nathaniel was still trying to reorient himself in the present. The woman kept intruding upon his thoughts. His eyes glazed over again.
“Nathaniel? Are you alright?” Sir Merric was worried now. This was not like him.
There was a knock at the door.
“Yes? Who is it?” Sir Wallace asked. A middle-aged man entered Sir Wallace’s study. He had green eyes and brown finger-combed wavy hair. He was tall, but not as tall as the Giantkiller, Nathaniel’s father. But he was strong in the Gift, a magnificent healer, and one to be reckoned with.
“Excuse me, but I think I should take a look at him.” Sir Nealan of Queenscove didn’t wait for an invitation to come in. He just did.
“Neal! What’s the meaning of this?”
“That’s exactly my question. What do you think you are doing, interrupting us? This is not time for one of your childish jokes.” Sir Wallace was getting more furious by the second.
“Hmm? Oh, sorry. What is he in trouble for?” Sir Neal asked absently checking Nathaniel’s temperature by feeling Nathaniel’s forehead.
“He was due back here at the palace from his courier mission over a week ago! He claims to have been waylaid by bandits, but that is impossible, since he seems to be in perfect health.”
“So you right away suggest lying? Did the thought never occur to you that he could have found a healer or hedge witch along the way and rested up there before continuing on?” Neal’s eyes were innocent, but piercing. Sir Wallace was not nearly as frightening as Sir Wyldon. But that had not stopped Neal from standing up to Sir Wyldon before as a page—and getting stable duty for it.
Sir Wallace stopped and took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. He clasped his hands behind his back and stared up at the ceiling. At last he spoke. “Forgive me, Nathaniel. I spoke in haste. Now, if you please, tell us if you stopped to see a healer on your way home.”
“I—uh. I didn’t stop to see a healer. I didn’t have time. I tried to get back as quickly as possible.” He seemed to be coming back to his senses. “But I arrived in town just last night! I swear it!”
“Where did you stay?” Sir Merric asked.
“At an—.” He stopped. Would they really believe him if he said he stayed at an armoury?
“Where?” Sir Neal persisted. “This is very important, if you still want to keep your position as Sir Merric’s squire.”
“It was late. I didn’t know what store I had walked into. But—.”
“Yes? Go on.” Sir Neal’s eyes were on fire!
“It was an—armoury,” he stammered. “And there was a woman—.”
“A woman!” Sir Merric and Sir Wallace yelled at the same time.
“You stayed one more night to bed some strange woman in an armoury!” Sir Wallace yelled.
“No! I didn’t say that! There was a storm, my mare was hurt, and I was tired and sick. She took me in, fed me, put me up for the night, and even lent me clothes because mine were torn and bloodied. I’d never do such a thing to a woman.” Nathaniel defended himself, rising from his chair.
“Sit down, boy. I believe you, even if these fools don’t,” Sir Neal said, pushing the lad gently back into his chair. “It was a tall woman, wasn’t she? Dark brown hair, blue-green eyes?” He was starting to smile.
“Yes. Yes! Do you know her?” Nathaniel was getting excited. Maybe Sir Nealan knew the woman’s name!
“If it’s who I think she is, then yes. But there is just one more thing to verify it: how beautiful was she?” Sir Neal’s eyes were glittering with mischief. Sir Merric was beginning to understand what Neal was saying, too.
Nathaniel hesitated. “She was more beautiful than anyone I’d ever met before. I’ve never known beauty before I met her,” he breathed at last.
Sir Nealan and Sir Merric burst out laughing. Sirs Merric and Wallace simply stared open-mouthed at him. Nathaniel was puzzled by Sir Nealan’s outburst of laughter. Oh my, yes. I know her. Her name, her family, her up-bringing, everything! But I’m not telling you. If she didn’t give you her name herself, it’d be rude of me to disregard her wishes.”
“You don’t think that it could be—her? Do you, Neal?”
Sir Neal finally caught his breath. “Without a doubt, it’s her!” He wiped tears from his eyes.
“Gods! I haven’t seen her in years,” Sir Merric breathed.
“What in the world are you two talking about!” Sir Wallace demanded to know.
That’s what I’d like to know, Nathaniel thought. How do Sirs Merric and Nealan know the woman? She said the store was new.
“It’s a long story, Sir Wallace, but don’t worry. Nathaniel here is telling the truth, assuredly—without a doubt.”
“I can’t believe that she’s actually here! I thought she was in Scanra with her mother?” Sir Merric exclaimed.
“Well, she’s here now. And it is her! If she hadn’t shielded herself, I’d have found her earlier. But I guess this is the first time that she’s used it, or she let herself slip.”
“I’d still like to know what you two are so excited about,” Sir Wallace was almost pouting with annoyance.
“It’s quite alright, Sir Wallace. We’ll tell you all about it. Some other time. It’s a very funny story, but known to only a select few. You almost had to have been there at their birth. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Just trust me for now that the boy is telling the truth. There is no reason to demote him. I still would like to examine him though—to make sure that there is no infection.”
“Infection? Where?” He opened his mouth to reply, but Sir Wallace held up his hand instead. “No. Nevermind. On second thought I don’t want to know. I think it will just make me more confused. Do as you will. If you say that he’s telling the truth, and you know the woman that he is referring to, then I’ll believe you.”
“Alright then. You hear that, boy? You’re off the hook! It’s not your fault at all that you’re over a week late, and you fell head over heels in love with a beautiful woman that you\'ve never seen before. But the storm was two nights ago, not last night. You must have slept in that armoury straight through that night, the next day, and last night as well! She must have given you some powerful medicine. And you must have been very near death for her to have taken you in and given you such a strong dosage.”
Nathaniel’s eyes grew wide. He had no idea! That woman had saved his life? But how? He wasn’t delirious or anything! But then again... He didn’t remember much from that night. Only the sword that he wielded in there, and her beautiful eyes.
“Well, come along my boy. Let’s get you to my quarters, where I’ll take a look at you, see if there’s anything left to be healed, and then send you on your way.”
It was strange. Nathaniel had known these two knights practically all of his life, and he had never once heard them talk of her before. Sir Neal was a something of a legend. The only squire that Aunt Alanna had ever taken on, he was very prestigious amongst the mages. And he had disobeyed orders and gone with Aunt Kel into Scanra to kill the mage who had been making the Killing Machines. Sir Merric wanted to go as well, but he had been too injured in the initial attack. Still, as one of Aunt Kel’s friends and comrades-in-arms, he had a little bit of fame as well.
But how had Nathaniel missed this? They knew the woman that was now filling his mind, and yet he had never heard them speak of her?
“Why won’t you tell me her name, Sir Nealan?” Nathaniel asked as they started down the hall.
“She refused to give you her name?” Sir Nealan turned to face him.
“Not in so many words,” he evaded
“Hmm. I wonder what happened to her in Scanra,” he mused.
“Shh! He’s not supposed to know about that, Neal. No one is.”
“Hm? Oh! Right. Come on my boy. And you’ll never get her name from me. It’d be healthier for you, actually, to forget everything about her.” He paused, looked at him carefully, then said, “But I don’t think you ever will.” He laughed. “You’ve fallen under her spell. Along with every other man who has ever laid eyes on her! Now you’ll never be able to concentrate on being Sir Merric’s squire.” They continued on down the hall towards Sir Nealan’s room in silence.