Minstrel's Serenade (11 page)

“Learn how to fight, follow in my footsteps, maybe one day, join the Royal Guard, like I did as a boy.”

The boy’s eyes lit with fire. “You are certain?”

Bron nodded and pointed to the boy’s chest. “The only uncertainty lies here. You must vanquish your self-doubt if you choose to accept.”

Nip breathed in, his small chest rising as if he seriously considered Bron’s challenge and all the implications that came with it. The boy had to crave adventure in his heart, or his sword would never strike true.

Nip held his breath for several seconds before releasing it. “I accept.”

Bron nodded and pulled the boy close to him. Nip froze in the warrior’s arms. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Bron’s neck and hugged him back.

Movement on the cottage porch caught Bron’s attention and he straightened, loosening his hold.

“What is it?” Nip stood on his tiptoes, peering between the cherrywood branches.

Bron stepped forward, pulling the boy with him. “The queen. She’s beckoning.” His body tensed. Had the kobolds found them? Had Valorian’s condition taken a turn for the worse? Was Danika all right?

Bron’s heart pounded in his chest as he lifted the boy and ran through the orchard. Sybil’s placid face came into view, telling him nothing. As queen, she’d learned to hide behind a mask of confidence. Could she be employing such a tactic now?

Bron reached the stairs and lowered the boy to the ground. He sank to one knee. “My Queen.”

“Sybil. You must call me Sybil.”

Bron nodded. He’d never utter such a blasphemy as long as he lived. “What is the matter?”

“It’s Valorian.” Sybil waved her hand to the cottage.

A thousand thoughts crossed Bron’s heart.

Sybil’s face cracked into a pensive frown. “He’s able to ride. Danika wishes to leave immediately.”

Bron nodded, relief mixed with more complicated emotions. He would never wish harm upon the minstrel, yet hearing of Valorian’s continuing presence once again built a barricade in his heart.

Idiot. He knew the princess must marry the minstrel. Besides, she’d never want a lug of a bodyguard, someone the kingdom would frown upon to her dying day. Fate had chosen, and this time it wasn’t him.

Why couldn’t he let her go?

Sybil’s frail hand rested upon his shoulder. “Time will tell. You must wait until destiny’s path reveals itself. ’Tis a long journey you attempt. Many turns can happen along the way.”

Bron glanced at her with confusion swirling in his head. “What do you speak of?”

“A matter close to your heart.” She gestured for him to rise, a motion she’d done a thousand times in the past in the marble throne room. “Come. You must prepare.”

Bron extended his arm and took her hand, pulling her back before she reached the cottage door. The former queen whirled around in defiance. Never had Bron acted so boldly.

“Come with us.”

Sybil slumped forward, looking even older than last night, when her medicines had given her purpose. “I cannot.”

Bron wouldn’t give up. He moved his hand down her arm and held her palm. “I know the princess will come around. We could appoint you Regent to the Princess, Dame of the Handmaidens, or Matriarch to Ebonvale. I know it’s not near what you had--”

“It’s too much.” She shook her head. “Too excessive for an old miser like me. I’ve chosen my path, and my accommodations are just. I could never return to face all those raging tongues and spiteful stares.” She gazed at her tattered shawl and leathery skin. “Not like this.”

Her condition tore a hole in Bron’s heart. He could not make her come, not if she didn’t wish it. Besides, she spoke only truth. Ridicule and infamy awaited her if she returned to Ebonvale. She was wise to favor such a peaceful ending to her sorrowful life.

“Very well.” He released her, wishing he could give her more. She’d given him the world.

Sybil grabbed his hand back. “That doesn’t mean I’m not saddened to see you depart. Bronford Thoridian, you served me well those many years back, and you will continue to do so.”

“How can I when you are half a world away?”

Sybil stepped toward him. She brought his hand to his heart and whispered, “Take care of Danika. Although she’s lost confidence in me, she’s all I have left that’s bright in this world.”

His heart beat steadily against the palm of his hand, sound as his loyalty. “You have no need to ask.”

* * * *

The caravan left the orchard as pink petals rained, covering their horses’ tracks. Danika took her place by Valorian’s side, the two rulers leading the path into the dark forest. Bron sat in his rightful place with Nip, driving the carriage and watching her back. To stand with her would mean he’d abandon his post as protector, and Bron would never sunder a sworn oath.

Danika didn’t look back. Whether she kept her distance from the warrior, or wanted to leave her mother’s sorry tale behind her, he couldn’t presume. Sybil’s time-corrupted face haunted him as he waved his last farewell. It felt cruel to leave her, but he’d be just as cruel to drag her back to everything she’d willingly left behind.

As the damp, moss-laden boughs cooled his bare shoulders, Bron decided to focus on the future and not the past. He turned to Nip. “What drove your father to venture so deep into the forest?”

Nip sighed, tying and untying a knot Bron had taught him with a scrap of twill. “It’s a long story.”

Bron gestured to the overhanging boughs before them, the morning’s mist still clinging to the ground, obscuring their path. The heady scent of pine filled the air as the wheels bled the needles below them and cracked through seed cones. “We have a long time to waste. I know it’s hard to speak of your family, but ’tis a passage you must cross. Whether ’tis now or as a young man, you must confront your past to free your heart for future endeavors.”

Nip sat in silence, bouncing as the carriage creaked over roots and upturned rocks. Just when Bron thought he’d have to give the boy more time, Nip muttered, “He came through our village in the middle of the night, all hooded as if the light from the moon and stars burned his skin.”

Nip tightened the knot, his tiny hands turning red. “No one wanted to take him in. The Ox’s Horn closed its doors, and Telli told him she’d booked every room in her inn for the night. My pa and I were walking back from the dock. He’d just paid for a shipment of silver from Jamal. The hooded man had missed the last ferry across the bay and he begged us to take him in. Said the morning light would do him in.”

Bron glanced at Danika’s horse’s flank as the beast disappeared behind a curve in the path. He whipped the reins to quicken the pace. Sybil had taught them a safer route rarely used by the kobolds. Yet, Bron still sniffed the dank air, searching for their rancid stench. “Interesting.” He’d never heard of an albino leaving the caves of Darkenbite--they feared morning’s first light. “Did the man say where he traveled to?”

“Naw.” Nip placed the knot beside him on the seat. “Or if he did, I don’t remember.”

Danika’s horse came back into view and Bron relaxed. “Did your father take him in?”

“He said he could stay in our smithy. The man thanked us all the way back to our house. Pa invited him for dinner and the man refused. He feared our hearth’s light. So, my ma made him a big bowl of rice and I took the food to him. The lanterns were all out when I went into the smithy, and he sat in complete darkness.”

Nip pretended to grab his eyes with his fingers. “I was afraid at first, but Pa said he wouldn’t hurt me. Pa always had a good gut feeling about people, like he could sense evil in a man from ten feet away. He told me to trust my instinct, and if a person was kindhearted, to do everything in my power to lend them aid.”

“Your pa sounds like an honorable man.”

Nip’s chest swelled as he straightened his back and shoulders. “He was the best man in Shaletown. Everyone thought so. He used to make swords as gifts for those who couldn’t afford to pay.”

“A true hero, indeed.”

Nip’s eyes reddened, and he wiped at them like an annoyance. “Anyhow. The man asked me to leave the rice at the door. I placed the bowl on the floor, but not before I glimpsed his face in the candlelight.”

Nip wrinkled his nose. “Pasty white skin, like sourdough, covered his face. He stared at me with eyes big as goose eggs with blue veins running through ’em. Thick whiskers with tiny feelers on the ends twitched on either side of his mouth as he studied me.”

Bron had never seen an albino, but the boy’s description fit the stories he’d heard. “All those generations living underground has given them…exceptional traits.”

“That’s one truth I won’t argue.” Nip chuckled.

“Did the man tell your father about the caves?”

“No. He left us a medallion made out of a metal Pa had never seen before. It’s silver with a pinkish hue to it, like armor in the sunset. One day while Pa stirred his mixture in the cauldron, I played with the strange man’s medallion, hanging the chain from the rafters above his head. The metal slipped from my fingers and dropped in the cauldron, blending with the liquid steel. Pa never liked to waste anything, so he made plate armor out of it. Turned out to be stronger than anything he’d made before.”

“Did you wear this armor when the wyverns attacked?”

Nip nodded and chewed his lower lip. His eyes grew dark and remote, as if he hid inside himself.

Bron had to have answers to save the kingdom. “You’re certain the armor saved you from the flames?”

“Certain as the sun rises.” Nip picked at the knot, loosening the twill. “Pa knew the wyverns were coming. He journeyed all the way out here to protect us. Since the man ate all the rice me Ma had given him, Pa took every bag we had and traded. He came back with a bar of silver-pink metal: enough to outfit our entire family. The wyverns attacked a few days later, and he hadn’t had enough time. If only he’d had another day or so, he could have at least made enough armor to save my brother or Ma.”

Guilt poured through Bron. Why had he pushed the boy so far? “My apologies, son.”

Nip sat in silence until the daylight waned and the shadows spread around them. The terrain grew rocky, and the horses struggled to pull the carriage up inclines in the path weaving through the foothills. Through the canopy, the mountains grew, towering over them like the backs of giants.

They emerged from the forest to the banks of a great, placid lake. Twilight cast the water in a silvery glow and mist rolled off its shores. Bron parked the carriage, leaving Nip to guard the horses while he caught up to Danika and Valorian as they explored the eastern shore.

Danika nodded when he arrived through the mist. Valorian picked his way through the rocky shore to refill both their goat skins.

Bron bowed before her, as if they stood in the throne room and she on the throne. “I trust your journey was peaceful.”

Danika nodded and spoke loud enough the minstrel could overhear. “How’s the boy?” Apparently, she wanted Valorian’s presence addressed.

He wasn’t about to shout Nip’s problems on the wind. Bron’s voice remained low and soft, intended only for her ears. “His spirits are low. We talked of his family and how his father learned of the albinos and this new mineral.”

Danika stepped toward him. “Why delve into something that brings him such sorrow?”

“For the safety of the kingdom, Your Highness. I must know for certain they have what we seek if we’re going to risk our lives for this cause.”
Her life. She was too important to Ebonvale--and to him--to lose.

Danika crossed her arms, looked away and sighed. Questioning the boy was necessary, but he didn’t like making the princess angry or proving her wrong. “He’s a strong lad. He’s agreed to become my apprentice, and to be a true warrior he has to confront his past.”

“Your apprentice?” Danika’s eyes lit up and her tone changed from belligerent to hopeful. “You’re taking him in?”

Bron nodded, surprised by her reaction. He thought she’d be angry with him. Instead, she beamed like a proud mother.

“He’ll live with us at Ebonvale Castle and train along with the rest of the Royal Guard. I’m aware how young he is. I’ll look after him personally.” He hoped she didn’t think of his failure with her father. This could be his chance at redemption, a way to show the princess he could protect those she loved.

Danika stepped toward him and placed her hands on his chest. Her eyes blazed with intensity. “I know you will.”

Bron breathed deeply. Her proximity alighted fire through his blood, and he had to use all of his strength to hold his stance and stop himself from pulling her against him. His head leaned down, closing the space between them. His gaze focused on her pink, moist lips, slightly open and inviting.

Valorian cleared his throat. Danika whirled around, breaking their contact.

The minstrel studied Bron with new fascination, as if he’d discovered his loyal servant stealing food. “I found the entrance. There’s a crack leading into the side of the mountain just beyond the northern shore.”

Danika nodded firmly. “Excellent work, Valorian.” Her eyes returned to Bron, but the intensity was gone or guarded. Maybe he’d imagined it? The air cooled between them and for the first time that day, goose bumps stung his skin.

Danika assumed her royal-authority voice, the one she used to cut through the high rafters in the throne room. “We’ll make camp for the night then breach the caverns in the morning when we’re well rested.”

Bron bowed his head, his neck turning hot with shame. What would have happened if Valorian hadn’t stopped them? “As you wish, Princess.”

“I’ll sing throughout the night to keep trespassers at bay.” Valorian stepped between them as a barrier of velvet and grace. Somehow, even though they’d ridden all day, he smelled of sweet lavender and peaches, making Bron feel like a sweaty ox. He couldn’t believe he had allowed the princess to touch him.

Sweet smelling or not, if Valorian’s voice wavered, he risked their safety. Bron challenged him with a twitch of his brow, gesturing to the bandage on his shoulder. “Are you certain you have enough strength?”

Valorian stepped toward him in the place where Danika had stood seconds before. “Shouldn’t you tend to the horses, brute?”