Castle Walls (11 page)

"So," Joseph said, filling the bowl of his pipe. "What news of the Invader? I've heard at the market that he's taken another kingdom."

As Katerin and Ilia froze, Ros nodded with a grim expression. She leaned forward, setting her empty bowl near the hearth with the rest of the dirty dishes. "Aye. He has. The kingdom of Dulce is no more. Took it near five months ago from what I gather." Blonde head turning this way and that, she eyed her family. "We were right near the border at the time."

Florin made a small noise, reaching out to rub Sameer's back as she nursed the baby. Frowning, Emerita asked, "Did you have any trouble?"

"Some," Ros shrugged. "He's looking for someone… or was. His guard rousted us one night near Hodsin, but nothing came of it."

"Except the captain becoming completely disgusted with you," Cristof said, chuckling. "And Sameer acting flea-ridden didn't help matters in that regard, either."

The dwarf screwed his craggy face into an ugly expression, scratching roughly at his neck. "I certainly don't understand to what you are referring."

As Sameer continued his itching antics, everyone laughed. Katerin was glad of the distraction, her face quite red at the mention of the Invader's captain storming away. While she had come to terms regarding the circus owner's sapphist ways, it was still embarrassing to her. Perhaps because it was naturally assumed they were involved in such a manner due to the sleeping arrangements.

Truth be told, however, Ros hadn't laid a hand on her. There were still the occasional rude comments, but these were made more for entertainment value than anything. Glancing sidelong at the blonde, Katerin caught a flash of dancing eyes and she felt her blush deepen.

"Well, with our new additions, there'll be some changes in who sleeps where, I gather," Emerita said.

"Aye," Ros nodded, sipping at her tea. "Cristof and Henry will have to share again. Kat and Ilia will take Cristof's old room."

Henry turned to his younger brother, punching him on the arm. "You still snore?"

"Never!"

"Aye, he does!" Sameer insisted. "Many's the night I had to sleep under the wagon to get away from the racket!"

Willem, quiet up to this point, nodded. "And I've had to move my wagon to the other side of the encampment!"

"Henry, we'll give you extra pillows to cover your ears," Ros promised with a grin, standing. As the others followed her lead, she said, "Daylight's wasting. Let's get those wagons unpacked and enjoy our first night home."

Katerin found herself herded outside towards the barn with the rest of the troupe, a mix of emotion stirring her heart.

Chapter 6

Drumbeat.

Panting, heart thumping, crashing through the wilderness. Noises everywhere, the call of wild animals urging her on. Behind her, she knew the Invader and his soldiers were chasing her, tracking her down to kill her. She was royalty and her life was forfeit; she'd been instructed since a toddler that she lived for her people. Her people were gone.

Bursting from behind a bush, she screamed silently at the armored figure before her. Moonlight on blade flashed above her and she cowered, afraid of the deathblow that was coming. Cuddling her doll to her chest, she could only hear the scuffle, the rattle of armor, could feel the ground tremble as a heavy body hit it.

A gentle touch on her shoulder and she peered fearfully at her savior. The minstrel smiled down on her, a bloody dove in his hands. "Hush, child. You're safe now."

Struggling to consciousness, Katerin felt hands grasping at her shoulders and tried to push them away. When she finally awoke, it was to a dark room and Ilia's whispered assurances that all was well. Panting, fighting against tears of fear and relief, the princess stopped resisting her handmaiden's calming words. Several moments passed, however, before she relaxed into the other woman's embrace.

Katerin pulled away, glad of the dark that hid her blush of embarrassment. "Thank you, Ilia. I'll be fine now."

"Are you sure, Kat?" the willowy blonde asked, long past the days of referring to her as royalty.

"Aye," the dark woman nodded, wiping at an unseen tear from her cheek. "It was just a nightmare. I've had them often since…that night."

Ilia held her, squeezing gently. "As do I sometimes. It must be the strange surroundings that have triggered them."

"It must be." Katerin gently disengaged from her handmaiden. "Let's go back to sleep," she whispered, lying back down on the large bed. A vague sense of relief filled her as Ilia complied. Curled up on her side, the princess stared into the darkness, the noises of a strange building about her. Behind her, she could hear Ilia's breathing slow and deepen until a gentle snore was all that was heard. Only then did Katerin relax.

How odd it is
, she mused,
that I should miss Ros' presence. Especially since it's not the first night I've slept with Ilia beside me.
When Gemma and Lucinda had moved on to their home, Ilia had moved her meager belongings in to the circus owner's wagon. The women had been sleeping together in the same bed for two weeks, Ros having shown a strange sense of chivalry and bedding down on the floor.

Despite the residual terror of her nightmare, Katerin's eyes closed and the beginnings of sleep stole over her. Reaching out, she brushed the wall beside the bed, knowing that Ros' room was on the other side.

"Thought you'd be asleep, scamp," Emerita said, looking up from her stitching.

Ros, her expression contrite, scratched at her unruly curls. "As did I." She fetched up a stool and settled down beside the old woman. "You shouldn't be doing that at night, Em. Your eyesight will be ruined."

Emerita chuckled. "Aye, Ros. I'm an old lady and my eyesight is ruined anyway. Stitching in firelight isn't going to make a difference anymore." With a shrewd gaze, she studied the circus owner's profile. "You've been having nightmares again?"

"Some," the blonde admitted with a grimace. Her eyes shifted to the left of the fireplace, to the wall that divided Katerin and Ilia's room from the main area. "I'm not sure what woke me. It might have been Kat."

"Aye," Emerita said with a nod. "I believe I heard something from her room, as well."

"Did you? She must have had another nightmare." Ros stared into the fire. "Do you think I should check on her?"

The old woman grinned slightly. "No, I think not. Ilia is with her."

Blinking hazel eyes, the blonde's shoulders slumped - a small action that spoke volumes. "You're right. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"I'm sure she will," Emerita repeated.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of the crackling fire. Ros finally broke it by saying, "Sati has already spoken to you about them?"

Again, Emerita nodded. "Aye, she has. You cannot expect an old woman to not be curious about her child's new friends."

Ros grinned at the woman beside her before becoming serious again. "I believe that the Invader has lost her. Aside from that once, none of his guards have appeared. I doubt he'd let it go this long if he knew where she was. You know he doesn't allow any heir to live."

"You're convinced she's of the Dulce kingdom?"

"I am," the blonde nodded. "The captain was nearly of a mind to take her that night. Only his belief and loathing that she shared my bed drove him away. I have heard rumor that the Dulce line is dark of hair and eye. Kat fits it well." Returning her gaze to the fire, Ros continued, "The clothes she had when we found her, despite being travel worn, were much too fine. Even Ilia's clothing was nicer than should be worn by an average woman. And the dagger used to kill one of the men outside the cook wagon was far too ornamental for either of the men to carry."

Another pause. "What do you plan to do now?" Emerita asked, stitching forgotten on her lap.

Ros sighed and rubbed at her neck. "I'm not certain. I told Kat that she and Ilia could stay as long as they wanted, that I'd not turn them out. It's not like we've gotten incompetence in return - Ilia is doing a fine job with her juggling and clowning. And Kat is a wonder with the accounts, has a fine hand at writing, and knows more of healing than the lot of us put together."

"Then they'll remain with us until they wish to leave," the old woman said with a tone of finality.

The blonde glanced sidelong at her. "And that's that, eh?"

"Aye. That's that." Emerita smiled, reaching forward to cup one of the younger woman's cheeks. "This circus belongs to you - you're da left it when he died. Through the years, you've shown all of us nothing but the best of your abilities and judgment. We trust you, Ros, to take care of your family."

Blushing, the blonde whispered, "Thank you, Em. It's good to know."

The tableau held just a moment before Emerita leaned back. Her mending went into a basket and she creaked to her feet. "Now then, it's time for all decrepit old women and young scamps to be abed."

"Aye, Em," Ros said with a chuckle, rising as well. She bent and planted a kiss on her friend's cheek. "I'll get to bed as soon as I bank the fire."

"Don't be out here 'til the night becomes morning," Emerita scolded as she moved towards the hall leading to the sleeping chambers.

"I won't. I promise." She bid the old woman good night, waiting until she'd gone before settling back on her stool to stare into the flames.

"Gods, this is taking forever!" Liam exclaimed.

Dominic shared a weary glance with the third man at the table, "Aye, my liege," he said, turning to the prince. "But caution is the watchword here. We aren't strong enough in numbers or weapons to achieve our goals."

With a gusty sigh, the teenager rolled his eyes. "There must be
something
we can do," he insisted. "These clandestine meetings are getting us nowhere!"

Tugging respectfully at his graying forelock, the third man spoke. "Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but these meetings do have a purpose." At the sour look he received, he chuckled. "Aye, hard for a young man - one bent on the doing rather than the talking - to easily understand, but it's true. These meetings serve to remind your people that you're alive and calling for them to fight for their king and country."

"Torlief has the right of it, Sire," Dominic cut in. Clasping his hands and leaning forward on the table, he peered closely at the young man across from him. "Things may be slow now, but the revolution will begin to snowball through spring and summer. We cannot make a move until all is in place or everything will be lost." The aide's voice softened. "I was advisor to your father, Liam. He trusted me. I ask that you place your trust in me, as well."

Long moments passed before Liam bowed his head. "Aye, Dominic. You have my trust, just as you had my father's. I know you'll only do what's best for the kingdom."

Smiling, Dominic reached out and squeezed the teenager's shoulder. "Thank you, Sire. You'll never know how much that means to me."

"There ye are, lads! Put some muscle into it!"

With a clash of metal the two lines met. Each soldier had his shield locked with his mates' as he attempted to break through his opponent's defenses. The arms master shouted encouragement and instruction while the group shifted back and forth in the slush and mud. A score of other soldiers were practicing various weapons around the battle with varying levels of skill.

Most were unaware of their audience watching from the low wall surrounding the training grounds. Those that noticed fought twice as hard, showing their liege their skills.

The Invader watched the mock battle, winter sun glinting off the royal seal about his neck. He was wrapped in his cloak, warding off the season's chill. Raising his head, he closed his eyes.
The sun feels good.
Below him the skirmish continued as he basked.

"Sire?" asked a tentative voice. "A message for you."

Inhaling deeply, the Invader turned to see a servant with a roll of parchment. He took it, his cloak falling open to reveal rich trousers and boiled leather vest, accepting the man's bow with a nod. As he cracked the seal, he asked, "The messenger?" The king scanned the document, sent from the Dulce province by the adjunct he'd left in charge.

"In the kitchens, Sire, having a bite and awaiting your response."

With a derisive snort, the Invader noted that word of rebellion was strong and growing daily. The group was organized into tiny cells of resisters - any attempt at routing out the leaders was spoiled by the small numbers and lack of pertinent information flowing between them. The Invader was positive who was behind this rebellion. Disgruntled lords, still loyal to the Dulce crown had discovered the princess. No one would follow a woman into battle so they'd passed her off as Liam to gain support. He speculated on who the true leader could be.

On the training ground, the battle ground to a halt as one line finally broke through the other. The arms master called a halt before any further damage was done, pulling three wounded soldiers out of training and sending them to the surgeons.

Rolling the parchment up, he said, "Have the messenger bed down in the barracks tonight and see to his mount. I'll have a response by the morning."

"Aye, Sire."

As the servant left on his errand, the Invader looked once more at the training ground, eyes unseeing. It was time for a return trip to Dulce.
Perhaps a grand celebration on the first anniversary of its fall.

A soldier glanced up at his audience and paled at the smile he saw on his liege's face.

Chapter 7

Ros stepped out of the main house and into the yard where horses were hitched to the supply wagon. Phizo sat atop it with the reins, chatting with Sati and Katerin. The two women had made a small nest of blankets against the early winter chill, comfortably awaiting the blonde's arrival.

Climbing up the side, the circus owner settled beside Phizo. "Let's be on our way before Emerita wants something
else
."

Phizo chuckled, snapping the reins. "One of the long lists, eh?" he asked as the steeds started forward.