during the confusion. Bandits have used such tricks in the past to snare a quarry, but it normally requires horsemen traveling at great speed to have any real effect. That is what puzzles me. Why put such a trap on this plateau? I would expect bandits to target the coastal highway, not some seldom used path.”
“Could it have been the boys, themselves?” Wolinda queried.
“Not a chance,” laughed Klarg. “This was professionally done. If it was done to aid the boys, it was very lucky. I, myself, did not know that I would send riders along this path until I actually did so. No, Mistress, I think we may have just stumbled into a bandits’ den by accident. The rope was probably part of a standard campsite protection and they were only alerted by the noise from down below when we spotted the boys. That is the only scenario that makes any sense.”
“What does that mean for our mission, Klarg,” Wolinda inquired.
“Unfortunately, our two trackers were among the ten dead men,” Klarg responded. “The spooked horses have left so many trails through the bushes that we will not find the proper trail until we have more light. I suggest that I go to Toresh and get replacements. I think ten men is enough to get the boys, but if there are bandits in the area who do not fear to kill Dark Riders, we should have a company strong enough to deal with them, as well. Plus, we need to replace the trackers.”
Wolinda thought a moment before responding. “Your plan is acceptable, Klarg,” she began, “but send one of your men instead of going yourself. If this is a bandits’ lair, your expertise in leading the men will be valuable should they decide to return and attack during the night.” Wolinda would never have stated her real reasons for keeping Klarg close. Once in Toresh, Klarg could report on Wolinda’s lack of progress and without Klarg around to contain his men, Wolinda might not wake up from her night’s sleep.
Chapter 8 Young Lord
Niki yawned and stretched in her fine, white silk robe while standing on the balcony overlooking the sea. At first Niki had been put out that the servants had assigned her to guest quarters instead of the Master’s Suite, but that was before she discovered the rich wardrobe of clothes in various sizes and styles. Fredrik also pointed out that they were supposed to be brother and sister and putting one of them in the Master's Suite would naturally insult the other. The servants had, after all, made the correct decision. Surely, the old sea captain’s mansion was not a Royal Palace, but Niki had never seen a palace and this was more than she expected. She had a bedroom that was larger than any house she had ever been in and it was only one of several rooms that were hers alone. Even the balcony she stood on, overlooking the peasants running around below, was larger than the house she grew up in. She stood there for a long while soaking up the sea air and listening to the bustle of the townspeople running about below.
A knock at the door disturbed her and, reluctantly, she turned and made her way through the suite of rooms to the entry. Opening the door, she saw a man standing there in a rich, red velvet suit with vest and coat and a white, frilled shirt with fluffy sleeves protruding from the cuffs of the coat. It took her a moment to recognize the man as Fredrik. Laughing, she threw open the door to admit her partner. Fredrik sauntered in like he was the Lord of the manor, a stride that Fredrik had perfected long before Niki had met him.
“What brings the Lord to his Lady’s Suite?” chuckled Niki.
Fredrik hurriedly closed the door and took up position in one of the large cushioned chairs. “I just wanted see how my Lady was accepting her transition,” he smiled smugly. “This place is huge. I’ve been wandering around for an hour and I doubt that I’ve seen all of it. This old sea captain must have been a smuggler to afford something this grand.”
“Well,” she chided, “I think I did rather well getting us in here, but don’t you think for a moment that I have let you go of your pledge to make me a queen. Perhaps you can organize the rabble down below into some kind of kingdom for me to rule. Those mercenaries will do for a Palace Guard while we look for someone more suitable and then we can have them organize an army to take over any neighboring countries.”
Fredrik looked at her with disbelief. Could she really think getting in here was her idea? Get the mercenaries to bow to her? Maybe she really was crazy. Grand fantasies were one thing, but what she was proposing was suicide. “I never promised to make you a queen,” he stated. “I said that I would like to see you in a palace. Now that I have, I do think it becomes you.”
“You will serve in my court, also,” she continued as if not hearing a word he said. “Perhaps I will have you as my Royal Consort.”
“We are best to avoid the mercenaries,” Fredrik reminded her. “They have let us in here because it costs them nothing and avoids embarrassment of their failure to do anything with the Black Devils. If we do anything that might upset them, you will be surprised how quickly they acknowledge their mistake. Where are your old clothes?”
Niki snapped out of her fantasy. “In the closet in the bedroom,” she answered. “Why do you want my old clothes?”
“I asked Miranda to have our old clothes washed today,” Fredrik said. “I do not know how long we will be here, but I want our clothes to be clean and packed in case we have to leave quickly.”
“Leave?” she asked incredulously. “Why would we ever want to leave here? We just got here and you’re talking about moving on already.”
“I am not planning on leaving just yet, Niki,” he declared emphatically. “I just believe in being prepared. One can never know what tomorrow will bring.”
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door followed by Miranda poking her head in. “Does My Lady have wash today?” she inquired. “Perhaps your traveling clothes could use a refreshing?”
“They're in the closet in the bedroom, Miranda,” Fredrik directed. “And thank you for your prompt service.”
Miranda went and retrieved Niki’s clothes and returned to leave. She bowed to Fredrik and said, “Your thanks are most welcome Lord Wason. Certainly not necessary, but graciously welcome.”
“Take extra care of my cloak,” demanded Niki. “I intend on wearing it on my Coronation Day and I don’t want you mucking it up.”
Miranda looked confused but merely nodded and withdrew from the suite. Quickly, she hurried downstairs to have Alicia do the wash. When she reached the servants’ quarters, Alicia was talking with Orthan, the Lord’s butler. “Humph,” Miranda began, “that Fredrik is all right, a pleasant boy at least, but that Niki, I’ll strangle her with my own hands before too long.”
“Now, now,” admonished Orthan, “we went through all of this last night. We all know they are not who they claim to be. For goodness sake, Lord Alrecht did not even have any brothers or sisters so he certainly couldn’t have nephews and nieces, but without a Lord or Lady in the manor, we will all be out in the streets. I, for one, am willing to put up with this charade for as long as we can make it last.”
“He’s right, Miranda,” agreed Alicia. “We can’t afford to be out on the street. It would kill us for sure. There is no other Lord or Lady in Cidal who will employ us and there are more than enough beggars already so that none of them can get enough to eat. You’ll just have to grin and bear it.”
“Not quite,” snapped Miranda, “I am the head maid here and I have decided that you will be the one to deal with our Lady Niki from now on. We shall see just how well you grin and bear it.”
Alicia went storming off with the wash. “Was that really necessary?” asked Orthan. “We are all in the same boat, so to speak.”
“And how safe is our boat, Orthan?” Miranda inquired. “Does the young Lord have access to funds to pay us? Or even funds to pay for food? And what if our Lady decides to fire us? Do you have a plan for everything, Orthan?”
“We will take one step at a time, Miranda,” Orthan said fatherly. “I will work with Lord Fredrik Wason to solve all of our problems. The young man is a thief if ever I laid eyes on one. I will arrange for him to allow me to manage the finances of the estate. Once that is accomplished, I will sell off enough out-holdings to sustain all of us in comfort. The hard part will be in getting him the legal authority to then turn it over to me.”
“Well, you had better start your bargaining then, Orthan,” quipped Miranda, “before I strangle our Lady and they haul me away for murder.”
