Kyra and the Swordstress Pt. 07

"Lord David," said Mirela. "I've told you once before, and I shall tell you again, I will not dance with you."

With a bow, David of Rowenhall replied, "As always, my lady, you are a blooming rose among the thistles. But I came here to ask for a dance from the beautiful young lady beside you."

His glinting green eyes fell on Scarlet, causing her to shrink in her seat.

"Sorry? Me? A dance?" Scarlet choked.

David's smile grew. He nodded. "It would be my greatest pleasure."

Scarlet shook her head. "I'm sorry, I cannot."

"Sure you can," Mirela replied quickly. "You must. You are a lady, after all."

Scarlet clutched at Al'Ranil, which hung loosely from the chair by its sheathe.

"I really don't think that's a great idea," Scarlet whispered to Mirela, hoping she would bail her out.

"Why not? David is a fine dancer," Mirela asked, clearly enjoying the discomfort the situation was bringing Scarlet. Then Mirela turned to David and explained,

"This is Lady Scarlet. Not a court lady, but a knight lady. She is my guardian and is afraid if she doesn't attach herself to me like a chiton, my father will become cross with her."

Scarlet narrowed her eyes at Mirela.

"I see," David said, seeming not deterred but even more interested now.

"And I do not know how to dance," Scarlet added.

"I can teach you," replied David.

"Come, Scarlet, only for a song," Mirela urged. "I trust the Duke of Rowenhall will keep you near in case assassins come down from the rafters."

The duke offered his hand. Scarlet sighed and replied, "Ok. One song," and took the duke's hand.

He took her to the dance floor, where, much to Scarlet's anguish, people made way and looked on. All those eyes on her and all those thoughts behind those eyes, she could see, wondering who she was or what far-off realm she must hail from. Oh, how she wished she could be in the shadows. But the music started, and the duke started her into a dance.

Scarlet quickly picked up the steps and soon found herself forgetting the eyes and enjoying herself. When was the last time she had ever danced?

"You're quite quick on your feet," the duke said, impressed.

"I am a sword fighter, after all," Scarlet replied.

"Are you really? I'd like to see how you handle a sword," said the duke.

The double entendre wasn't lost on Scarlet. With a sharp smirk, she replied, "Only if you are willing to be on the receiving end of a sharp blade."

The duke laughed. He gave her a twirl.

"I see that Lady Mirela is rubbing off on you. Don't let her rub too much. She's quite abrasive. How exhausting it must be to tend to her."

"It is nothing less than an honor to be in the Lady Turracher's service."

David scoffed. He rolled his eyes, keeping a light smile. "Either that's a lie, or you have been utterly brainwashed."

"It is neither. I swore an oath, and I intend to keep it."

He put his mouth to her ear and said more softly, "An oath is not a life debt, you know."

"To me, it is."

"If that is true, you are nothing more than a slave."

The song stopped. They stopped dancing.

His words continued echoing in her head. They fazed her. He could not have known that she was once actually a slave. But even if he did, how could he possibly know what real slavery feels like. Yet, something in her heart told her that he might be onto something. Was she truly free? Or was she merely a higher class of slave?

The young duke Rowenhall kissed her hand and led her to the table where Lady Mirela awaited them. But right before reaching earshot of the duchess, he leaned in and whispered into Scarlet's ear, "To a woman as beautiful as you, life should be a bounty. And a bounty cannot be had when you are indebted to the Turracher House."

As they arrived at the table, Scarlet turned to the duke, gave him as courtly a curtsy as she could manage, and said, "Thank you, Lord David, for that wonderful dance lesson. I shall be forever grateful."

"And thank you, Lady Scarlet, for the pleasure of your company. I hope to cross paths with you again."

Then, when he departed, Mirela said out of the side of her mouth, "What he means to say is he hopes to put his prick in you."

Scarlet scowled at Mirela, who giggled in response.

"You look like you can do with some air. So can I. Why don't we take a stroll?" Mirela proposed.

***

They left the banquet hall for the castle garden. The moon was full and cast the garden in a pale blue light. The night-blooming jasmines that cascaded down along the long arched trellis that covered the garden walkway gave off a heady fragrance. The white flowers were like many little stars.

"What did David tell you?" Mirela asked as they slowly strolled.

"What?"

"I'm not blind, Scarlet. I saw that he whispered something to you. What did he say?"

"Oh. Um... I'm not sure that I could share it. I don't want to be the cause of any drama."

"You won't. You were simply the unfortunate one on the receiving end of whatever moronic words came sputtering out of his mouth."

"Well, I suppose it won't hurt to say it, but I will have to preface what I say by assuring you that I am fully loyal to the Turracher house."

"Oh, stop it with that nonsense, Scarlet. Just tell me what he said!"

"Ok, fine. He insinuated that I should break my oath and leave."

"Hah!" Mirela clapped. "It sounds like you have a suitor," she sang.

"A suitor?"

"Yes. Lord David of Rowenhall seems to have an eye for you, Scarlet."

"I don't have an eye for him."

"Ah, don't worry, that is not an obstacle for him. He's relentless, that one. And he's always looking for a way to dip his dirty little fingers into the Turracher House."

"Is he?" Scarlet asked anxiously.

"He vied for my hand for many years. But of course, that's wishful thinking, even if he is the Rowenhall heir."

"It could be worse."

"It certainly can. Despite his vapid mind, he's actually one of the nicer ones. And he's not terrible looking."

"So why didn't you take his hand?"

"You ask that like I have a choice."

"Don't you?"

"Of course not. Didn't I tell you I am a bird in a cage? I will squawk when they tell me to squawk, and I will marry whomever they decide."

"Who are they? Your father? Maurin?"

"And the king's council. Don't forget I am a Turracher, after all."

They arrived at a fountain where, in the middle, stood a marble woman holding a tipped carafe from which water trickled into the fountain.

"Tomuun. Mother ocean. Patroness to our house. The oceans had enriched us, but we are descendants of mountain folk, so she doesn't seem to fit. Still, I like that she is our patroness. The ocean is vast and wild and free."

Scarlet knew Tomuun well. She was the mother goddess of Myssea as well, though, in Myssea, she was called Thalassa and symbolized not only the ocean and the flow of life itself.

"You know, you can leave whenever you'd like," Mirela said as they gazed at the ocean goddess. "You are a free woman. Well, of course, by breaking your oath, you are rescinding your knighthood, but then you can go and be your own woman. I wouldn't hold it against you if you did."

"Is that what you would do in my position?"

Mirela nodded. "Without hesitation."

Mirela hopped onto the fountain's edge and walked along the rim, stretching her arms to balance herself. She teetered as she stepped gingerly around the edge. Scarlet walked closely beside her, following her around the fountain.

"Then why don't you do it?"

"What? Leave?"

"Yes."

"I can't."

"Well, why not if it were so easy to do so in my shoes. What's the difference?"

Mirela stopped walking. She put her hands on her hips as she looked down at Scarlet, and her face grew sullen.

"It's different. I have my duty to my family and to Varna. Can you imagine the turmoil if I just... left?"

"I'm sorry, your highness, but I think Varna has much greater problems than a duchess going missing."

"I wish that were true," Mirela said with a sigh. She looked up at the moon and squinted because of its brightness. "I wish Varna could solve all its problems without me. Yet somehow, I must be a part of the solution. My name is as powerful a tether to this house as the enchantment that tethers the slaves."

Mirela shrugged. She attempted to hop off the fountain's rim but lost her footing. As she began to topple backward, arms flailing, Scarlet dashed forward, catching Mirela by the waist, pulling her into her arms and away from the water.

"My lovely knight," Mirela said, fluttering her eyes.

Scarlet grinned. "Do you see why I can't leave either? You're too clumsy. You'd be falling into fountains left and right if I weren't around."

Mirela laughed.

Scarlet continued, "As long as you allow me to keep my oath, I will keep it. I will follow you, Lady Mirela, wherever you will go. If your place is here as a bird in a cage, so is mine."

Mirela kissed Scarlet on the cheek and replied,

"The cage door is open for you now. I cannot guarantee that it will remain open forever. Fly while you still have the chance."

"I won't. I'm staying, Your Highness."

Mirela smiled.

"Very well. As much as I prefer that you are free, having your company is a nice consolation. But I will have your company only on one condition. Stop calling me 'Your Highness'. Just call me Mirela."

"I can try, but no promises... Mirela."

Scarlet blushed as she uttered the name. It was a nice name, and she liked to say it.

"A splendid start. Let's see how you fare. By the way, I didn't take you out here just for a stroll. There's something I want to see."

Scarlet cocked her head.

"They're holding their secret meeting in the grove. Why don't we sneak over there and discover their little conspiracy?"

***

Scarlet pleaded with Mirela to go back to the banquet hall instead, fearing that they might be caught, but her protests fell on deaf ears. Mirela dragged Scarlet through the garden until they reached a wrought-iron gate in a tall hedgerow. They went through the gate and down a winding gravel path that led to the grove of towering spruce trees that were said to have been planted there by the first of the Turrachers that came down from the mountains. In the center of the grove was a small amphitheater, where meetings were often held. Meetings intended to be held in secrecy and more often than not, for the purpose of deciding the kingdom's fate.

Scarlet had heard of this place, but as a slave, she was strictly forbidden from going anywhere near this sanctum of the Turracher family. The secrets it held were always out of her reach until now. Even with Mirela by her side, a tremor of fear prickled her skin, the potential repercussions of trespassing lingering heavily in the air. What might she do to her if she should be caught? The ingrained instinct to obey was a daunting thing to overcome.

The spruce trees were like cathedral columns, shooting up into the darkness, their thick canopies obscuring the pale moonlit sky with dark shadows.

Mirela and Scarlet moved in a crouched shuffle, swiftly darting from one tree to the next, pausing at each tree to prick up their ears to the subtle sounds of the grove, to listen for any trace of sentinels. Yet no sentinel blocked their way. Only those deemed worthy enough to participate in the secret meeting were allowed within the confines of the grove.

Gradually, a soft, orange glow of torchlight trickled through the entwined branches. The muffled murmurs of voices punctuated the silence, growing louder as they moved closer. Upon reaching a felled tree, Mirela motioned for Scarlet to halt, then slowly raised herself to peer over the fallen giant, a move that Scarlet mirrored.

In the seats of the small marble amphitheater sat the silhouettes of the members of the Great Houses, their long shadows cast by the torchlight dancing against the walls of the imposing spruce at their backs. The few faces that Scarlet could make out were fixed with austerity, their unblinking eyes reflecting stray tendrils of light.

Lord Eldan stood dominantly at the amphitheater's center, one foot on a raised speaking pedestal. His cloak, a sweeping mass of black, draped around his body to give him a spectral presence against the riot of dancing shadows. He quietly observed an exchange of words between two sides of the amphitheater.

"They are untrained, undisciplined, underfed, and most have no experience in war! I'm sorry, Genevieve, I understand your compassion for their cause, but it is folly to think that we can do anything to support them. The finest steel in the hands of a slave is no better than a dull rod."

The voice belonged to the man Scarlet now knew as Lord Maximilian of Salmburg.

"Then we give them more than steel! We give them the strength and courage of our knights!" declared Lady Genevieve, her clarion voice ringing out, sparking a lively echo of 'Hear! Hear!' and applause from her side of the amphitheater, but a heavy silence from the other side.

"Aye, the strength and courage of our knights are far above even the Golden Kestrels, but what you are suggesting is nothing short of treason!" came the retort.

"And your voice of support for the slave rebellion is not treasonous? The only thing that separates my form of treason from yours is your cowardice, Salmburg."

The members of the Salmburg party jumped to their feet, growling, menacing with their fists at the sleight. Some drew swords. Some of the Rowenhalls followed suit, unsheathing their swords, while Lady Genevieve remained sitting tall and unyielding in the face of the blustering display. She added calmly, "Lord Maximilian, I have never forgotten the unhesitant aid that the Salmburgs provided my House in the war of the scepters. I am fully apprised of the strength and courage that the Salmburg are capable of when called upon. I'm simply saying that nothing short of full commitment to the cause is now necessary. The King's Council will not forget your spurning of the King's call to arms against the rebellion. Not any of ours. If you think for a second that they will not punish you for even the slightest transgression, of which you have already committed, then you are naïve, sir."

"The war of the scepters was a different matter. Of course, we would come to the aid of our allies without question! But to support a mob of slaves, whose wills are as fickle as their sense of loyalty... It is no secret that I harbor no fondness for that petulant bastard that sits on the Amber Throne, But what you speak of -- to join arms with slaves -- is not only utterly objectionable but foolhardy! We are but four houses against the king's grand army and, mark my word, all the other houses that would love nothing more than to see our downfall."

Lady Genevieve quickly replied, "Four houses and every slave with a fire in their heart for freedom. Do not underestimate the vigor of that fire."

Lord Maximilian waved a dismissive hand, shaking his head but not engaging Lady Genevieve further. In the reprieve of the debate, Lord Eldan finally spoke up.

"Lord Maximilian, I do not know why you have not answered the king's call to arms. I suspect it has nothing to do with sympathy for the plight of the slaves and more to do with the debt that the council has determined you are no longer owed. Nonetheless, you have refused the call, as we have all. We each have our reasons...and regardless of those reasons, one thing is certain -- Lady Genevieve is right, the King's Council will not let our actions go unchallenged. Diplomatic options are off the table. We must be ready now to challenge the king with might."

He turned his gaze to Lady Genevieve and said,

"Rowenhall's spies say that the rebels have routed the south outpost and are gathering in the highlands there."

"By the day," she affirmed.

"And Lord Roderick indicates that there are talks of mutiny among the conscripts in the grand army. They are unhappy about the mobilization and are ill-equipped and ill-fed."

The elderly Roderick Estridsen, who sat closest to the duke, nodded.

"Ill-equipped and ill-fed but number in the tens of thousands, buttressed by at least a thousand heavy cavalry, while our knights number at best a thousand altogether," Lord Maximilian butted in.

"Aye, that is true," Lord Eldan replied with a thoughtful nod. "Still, our opportunity is more compelling now than it ever will be."

"An opportunity for what!?" Lord Maximilian challenged, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"An opportunity to remove the king from a throne he does not deserve."

Lord Maximilian let out a mirthless laugh. "Leave it to a Turracher to stir talk of dethroning kings."

His amusement evaporated, his face darkened, and his jaws tightened. "But this time, the boy on the throne shares your blood, Eldan. Tell me, can you truly say you are prepared to put a blade into the heart of your own nephew should the time come?"

Lord Eldan looked around the audience, whose eyes were squarely on him. Everyone, it seemed, waited with bated breath for his response. He breathed deeply in, closing his eyes momentarily before meeting Maximilian's intense gaze.

"The throne does not belong to anyone on the virtue of blood alone. Our King Albrech, and I say this with a heavy heart, has strayed far from the path of his duty. He's taken the proud Turracher name and smeared it across a canvas of reckless tyranny. Look upon the base of the Amber Throne. What words do you see? Justice. Wisdom. Compassion. Tell me, have you seen such virtues in his rule? No. Because otherwise, there would be no rebellion. My patience with kings and councilors who scorn the sacred virtues and use the throne for their own gain at the expense of the people has worn thin! I see it as our duty now to rid the throne of a false king and let rise a ruler who will bring to the kingdom an era of peace and prosperity."

"And who, pray tell, will that ruler be?" Lord Maximilian asked.

Lady Genevieve stood from her seat and shouted, "King Eldan of Turracher!"

Applause and shouts drew up from the audience, especially among the Rowenhalls and the Estridsens and even a few of the Salmburgs. There was no question that the speech he gave conveyed him as a true leader. It had even caused Scarlet's own cynical heart to skip a beat.

"Eldan... as much as I respect you, and as much as I would have preferred you as king over your brother's moron of a son, I stand by what I said: this is a fool's errand. It is a fool's errand because we have no guarantee that the slaves will rally to us. They will trust our intentions as much as they would trust a treaty from the king. So, Eldan, if you want my knights, prove you can draw the rebels to your banner. I doubt that you can."

Eldan responded with a nod, then glanced at the shadows to beckon whoever stood hidden to reveal themselves. A large shape emerged. Scarlet cupped a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp when she recognized the person.

Murmurs grew in volume in the amphitheater as Marcus joined Lord Eldan's side.

Scarlet had previously never paid much attention to Marcus's imposing stature. However, when he stood next to the Duke of Turracher, a large man in his own right, the contrast was stark, like the difference between a mountain dog and a direwolf -- both impressively formidable, but one clearly more so than the other. Perhaps she had not noticed before because Marcus had always worn simple peasant clothes. But now, he wore the shining armor of a grand knight, complete with a heavy cloak of the Turracher red and gold that draped to the floor. A large flamberge greatsword rested on his shoulder. He looked nothing like a slave but a true champion.

"Marcus Gryphon-heart," Lord Maximilian uttered, his mouth held in awe by the sudden appearance of the veteran gladiator.