Dressed in dark grey breeches, matching boots and a lighter grey short sleeved tunic with the royal crest sewn over his heart, Talac stepped out into the early afternoon sunshine. Surprised when his mute guide didn’t immediately head for the portcullis but instead, turned in the opposite direction, heading deeper into the grounds of the Lair.
It would be pointless asking his guide questions, and that would only give away what he found curious, so Talac remained silent, taking the opportunity to absorb his surroundings. The Lair was effectively a vast rambling stone four storey mansion. Different coloured stone signalled where extensions had been made to it over the years. It looked random but at the same time somehow cohesive. Like the Keep, the windows were narrow but there was a lot more of them in evidence here.
Outside, the stable and bathhouse were located across a paved courtyard, backing onto a stream, explaining where they sourced their water from. Beyond the stables the grounds opened up. Covered large single storeyed buildings snuggled up beside the stables. Talac guessing they would be used for training purposes, as what looked like stone barracks were built on the other side.
They were walking on grass now, past all the buildings, everywhere wooden posts decorated the landscape, colourful flags flapping in the slight breeze. Perhaps most people wouldn’t notice the five foot lances that protruded from the top of each of them, but Talac did. Whatever danger stalked Gloomenthrall definitely came from the skies.
Talac scented hops in the air, and the slight whiff of a tannery, along with the metal taint of a smithies. It seems the occupants of the Lair were an industrious lot. And self-sufficient. Talac could see far off orchards and vegetable plots. Those sharp tipped wooden posts and their gaily coloured flags everywhere.
Now that they were walking down a slight grassy incline, Talac could see their destination. Several large puff willow trees hugged a bend in the stream, casting shade over a grassy expanse dotted with wildflowers. The space currently full of milling people, chatting and drinking. There were trestle tables off to the side laden with an array of tempting platters of food. And a large man serving goblets of mead off to the right.
A party. No, Talac noted the bald headed priest who’d performed last rites over the hunt standing on a raised small podium beside the stream. A wedding. Talac unsure what he was doing here as he recognised very few familiar faces from the Keep, except for several of the ladies, milling about in their bright silk dresses, flower crowns on their heads, smiling and chatting. They mixed with the Lair residents with ease, who tended to wear more sombre colours made of materials more hard working. Several of the women wearing breeches, swords at their hips. More interesting was the number of Lair residents who were missing a limb or had incurred some obvious injury sometime in the past. Yet, no one here treated them any differently than anyone else in the crowd.
And amongst the partygoers children ran and gambolled about in packs. Girls, in both dresses and breeches, outnumbering the boys by a good margin.
Ah, there was another familiar Keep face, Master Kinnith rushing up to Talac. The man dressed in a dark green tunic, black breeches and boots, a yellow flower pinned over his heart. His face flushed with high colour, the man positively vibrating. At first Talac thought he was gripped by tremors of fear, but given the broad smile on his face he quickly revised that to excitement.
The smaller man coming to an abrupt halt before Talac. “She said yes!”
“So I see.”
“The very first thing I did upon our return was find Gretani and propose. After… after an experience like that out in the woods, I realised the only thing that mattered was cleaving myself to Gretani. That even if we were to live a simple, modest life, as long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you, I’m a blessed man.” Kinnith’s eyes shifting to rest upon a lady standing amidst a group of hovering younger ladies who were tweaking her pale blue dress, and adjusting the yellow and white woven flower crown on her head. Gretani was not young, there was a hint of grey at the temples of her plaited dark hair, but her eyes shone with happiness, a smile clinging to her lips. Her gaze likewise kept shifting in Kinnith’s direction.
“I think you may be right. My felicitations, Master Kinnith.”
“Yes, yes… but you see your Lordship-”
“Captain. Or Talac if you like.”
“T… Talac, I do not wish to start my married life with a lie. There appears to be a misapprehension, everyone assuming that I made the death strike during this morning’s hunt. They have gifted me… us, with a commensurate dowry. I attempted to explain what happened... that it was you… your spear. But my claims were brushed aside in the rush to see to the wounded and the horses upon our return. Then the preparations for the wedding took precedence.”
“And you wish me to…?”
“Tell… the Bea… tell Poulth the truth of what happened out there. You’re the one who threw that spear and made the killing strike, not I. You’re the one deserving of the monetary award, not I.”
Gods, here before Talac stood a good, humble man. One who’d been prepared to face his fears and risk his life for the woman he loved. And despite his timidness and slight stature, he rigidly adhered to honourable principles. Men like this deserved to be rewarded, although Talac was guessing from the fine lines that etched the edges of Kinnith’s eyes and brow that life had rarely done so. But that had not deterred Kinnith, who quietly, in his own way, lived by a noble code.
“I acknowledge that you’re in a delicate position Master Kinnith, but you must understand the position I find myself in. I have dedicated my life to my career. From the moment I could hold a sword I studiously earnt and was awarded the title of a King’s man. My loyalty and devotion to the crown has never been questioned. But… if I do as you ask, I stand to lose everything I’ve worked for.”
“You do?” Kinnith’s eyes widening in surprise.
“Lord De’Luca, thanks to this assignment of escorting him across the Realm, currently holds power over my future. Don’t get me wrong, Brandth is a loyal and devoted follower of our King. But he’s also an aristo… and his… ego can sometimes be a little… fragile.” Hah, Brandth was going to howl when he woke up and Talac shared this story.
“I… I’m unsure…”
“He’s not a man partial to his underlings outshining him. If I were to take credit for today’s kill… then he might see fit to…”
“Punish you?” Kinnith queried, his words tinged with shock.
“No, nothing so extreme, but he might see fit to… derail my next promotion. Negating in a moment of… displeasure, all my hard work and years of training. I realise it’s a lot to ask, but Master Kinnith, would you do me the immense favour of not pursuing this matter?”
“Lie?” The word sounded like it tasted bitter in his mouth.
“No, not as such. Just don’t speak of it. Let the facts, as people believe them, stand as they are.” He could sense Kinnith was wavering. “Besides, I fear that if the word was to get out, then Master Elliott would insist upon a sunlion’s share, and I don’t believe a man such as that should be rewarded, given the chaos and pain his actions wrought in the end.”
