WILLARD : Then you will not soon be in Eden?
BROWN FARDY : Not without a strong guard, friend. You can redeem the armor from our clerk though, for he knows our writing. If he troubles you, give him a good smack on the head and he will listen.
BLOND FARDY : Or be patient, but my brother is always that.
ALFONZO : Osbert will accompany the Fardy brothers; now that we know they are in danger, we will protect them to the last, as well as any other who needs our protection. Vahan Lee, now that you have heard more, do you still wish to join me?
VAHANLEE : Yes, if I am allowed, sir.
ALFONZO : Call me Alfonzo, not sir.
VAHAN LEE : Very well. I am a loyal citizen of Atilta, Alfonzo, and since I have fallen in with you, I think I can do no better than to follow you from now on, without thought to any foreign monarch who might want to encourage the rebellion against Gylain.
ALFONZO : You serve the French King, then?
VAHAN LEE : Good gracious, sir! I, well, I do not know how you got that idea into your head, though I am sure that if I did serve him, he would want to let you know that he was with you against Gylain. I will follow you of my own accord,
ALFONZO : Perhaps you had better keep silent for now, Vahan, and we will discuss this later when we are alone.
VAHAN LEE : Good idea, Alfonzo, a very good idea.
ALFONZO : Now, then: Thurston, Selmar, and Fritz will go with Osbert and the Fardy brothers to Milada’s castle, and once there will aid him however possible. Caspar will come with Vahan and myself to the southern hideout, to look over some documents. The rest will return to the caverns to patrol the road. Willard, have you come to a decision?
WILLARD : Horatio and myself will take our disguise as monks once more and head north to the road, and from there eastward to Eden. I will join your rebellion, though I have a feeling that danger will find me on its own, and I need not search for it like the others.
ALFONZO : Good, I trust fate will reward your fidelity with some adventures, and that those will do well for the cause of liberty. I have seen you and Horatio in action, and have no fear for your safety, so I will send no rangers with you. A forest native can overcome many times his number of adopted forest dwellers, and with a bear at your side all is well. Still, I will warn you to beware that your disguise does not lead you into any traps or dangerous situations. Gylain has been at war with the church for some time now. He has bribed those who serve themselves more than God, and the others he has attacked. He has been sending masked soldiers to burn and ransack their monasteries, forcing them to flee overseas to find comfort. If you are harassed by his men, do not be afraid of utterly routing them, for it will not be viewed with suspicion. Many monks have turned to the martial arts to preserve themselves from their persecutors before, David foremost among them. In short, be careful.
WILLARD : As I always am.
ALFONZO : Even when we stole you from the road? But we will remember that no more, for you were outnumbered greatly, and still made a fight. Farewell, then, Willard.
WILLARD : Farewell, I hope we will meet again soon.
ALFONZO : As do I.
And with that they took leave of one another, each going in the direction of his destination, one group south, one north, and one west. The council was broken, and sword was once more drawn, for in the forest danger is never distant, and enemies grow thicker than the trees.
Chapter 12
Lord Milada, whom Willard had saved from the bandits in the forest, was earl of the Western March, the thickly forested area between the southern portion of the Bay of Thunder and the ocean. It was a cradle of great wealth and fertility, but sparsely inhabited: for it was far from the population centers. Lord Milada of Erlich – the latter being his ancestral home – had been a stalwart follower of the previous king. When he was deposed, the leader of the coup – Gylain – made himself king and sent those who had been closest to the rightful royal family to the obscure regions of the inner forest. Offered an earldom larger in acreage than his ancestral one, Milada of Erlich had no choice but to accept. There he continued to make his lonely way, free from the bustle and ambition of Eden. He soon found, however, that he was more content in this domestic bliss than in the ambition of the city, though his worldly standing was much lower than before. His only occupation, now that he had no nobles to entertain, was to stand against Gylain, and there were rumors to the effect that he had been traveling to forge alliances against the tyrant. Indeed, the promising of his daughter to Willard had been partially out of a desire to ally himself with an outside power, and partially out of a desire to give her a strong husband in those days of turmoil.
His castle was made of stone, strong and impregnable, standing in the center of a meadow that stretched for a mile in every direction. The plain was bordered on every side by the ancient forest, except to the north, where Thunder Bay licked its shores a mile away. The outer walls of the castle were twenty feet tall and five thick, with towers every hundred yards and a massive iron gate in the front. Within those walls were the inner walls, twice their height. Between the two sets of walls was a covered courtyard, not unlike a separate castle within itself. The only way to enter the castle proper was to take this covered courtyard to the far side of the castle, where the inner gate was located. Within it was the castle itself, a mountain amidst the plains, impressive even by the greatest standards.
The first floor was covered by the great hall, flanked on every side by rooms for the servants – kitchens, pantries, and the like. The second floor held an armory with training rooms for the soldiers, an extensive library, and a bright sitting room that Milada had put in – contrary to all the customs of the time – in order to have a pleasant, airy room. This would have been derided had he lived nearer civilization, but as there were no other towns or villages within a hundred miles, he was left to his own whims.
Above the second level were several towers, one at each corner and an especially tall one in the center, which served as both the lord’s chambers and the keep, the last defense in times of war. Of the smaller towers, one belonged to Ivona Milada, his beautiful daughter; one to the prior of the church, Oren Lorenzo; and the two others to the chief servants of the castle, the doctor and the captain of the guards – Hismoni, by name.
It was at this time early evening, and the towers were empty and dark, for all the house was still feasting in the main hall. All that is, except for Ivona’s tower; for she was already in her room, having retired early when her father did not arrive before dinner. She was indeed a lovely woman: moonlight skin and midnight hair, with emerald eyes sprinkled with the sun. Her nose was slender and aquiline: large enough to be respected, and small enough to be lovely. Her lips showed her emotion as brilliantly as her eyes, holding themselves with as much poise as she herself. Her form was supple, neither overwrought into indecency nor underwrought into shapelessness.
At this time she was reclining on the cushiony platform that her indulgent father gave her as a bed, her eyes beseeching the ceiling and her lips God, to whom she spoke:
“He will arrive soon, but how can I tell him? This time, he will understand and not do as usual. Yet no matter how he reacts, I must tell him soon – no, the moment he returns. I cannot have him searching for my husband in all the earldoms loyal to the true king, even while my fate has been decided.” A few tears escaped her eyes, falling to her parted lips, where their saltiness brought a half-hearted smile to the surface. “Yes, I will pledge my life to God, who will never leave nor forsake me: he will be my groom and I his bride. What should I profit if I gained the whole world – and even the undying love of one man – and yet in so doing lost my own soul? No, he who wishes to save his life will lose it, but he who gives up his life for God’s sake will find it. It must be so, I only hope that father will understand I have no other choice but that to which my conscience leads me: serving the church as a nun.”
Before she could say more, her maidservant burst into the room and cried out, “Ivona, the master is back!”
She was surprised, however, to see Ivona apprehensive at the news, as if guilty and bound for punishment. It was that day her twentieth year upon the earth, marking her entry into adulthood by the customs of Atilta, and so a feast was to be held as soon as Lord Milada returned. She went, unwillingly, but her beauty masked her emotion.
It was a short walk down the tower stairs, through the family rooms and into the main hall. There she found the whole household assembled together, waiting only her arrival to begin the celebration feast. The main hall was twenty yards by forty, and the ceiling fifteen feet from the floor; both were made from massive blocks of stone. The
