King's Warrior (The Minstrel's Song Book 1) Read online

  Kamarie felt an icy hand creep down her spine at these words. The Dark Country was only spoken of in whispers. Six hundred years had passed since King Llian had defended against their invasion, but fear of this Warrior Kingdom lived on in legend and the people of Aom-igh could not talk about the Dark Country without recalling those dark and evil times.

  Kamarie stopped contemplating the Dark Country and turned her attention back to her father.

  “Since Prince Elroy had hoped to court our daughter, we can only assume that he means to take by force what he could have gained through marriage. As I do not know his plans, it is reasonable to assume that Kamarie is in danger. For this reason, I am sending her south, to stay until the danger has past.”

  She was to be sent away? Kamarie looked up, her bright blue eyes widening. In her outrage, she promptly forgot every single etiquette lesson she had ever learned and raised her voice for all to hear. “No!” she cried, rising out of her chair. “I will not be sent away. I will remain right here where I belong. I will not cower in safety with our people in danger!”

  King Arnaud smiled kindly at his daughter, she reminded him so much of himself in his younger days. “Kamarie,” he said firmly in a quiet tone meant only for her hearing, “we will speak of this later.”

  At the warning in his brown eyes, Kamarie fell silent and sat back down. As her father continued with further instructions, Kamarie let the words wash over her. She kept a pleasant look on her face, picking at her food, while her mind was spinning with fury at the prospect of being sent away without even being consulted.

  When at long last the dinner was over and their guests had departed, with grim faces and pledges to return in the morning for a full council of war, Kamarie turned to her parents, her eyes flashing. Arnaud glanced at her and placed a weary arm around her shoulders. Kamarie stiffened but accepted the hug impatiently.

  “Let’s not do this here,” Zara said.

  “Right,” Arnaud turned and led the way to their private family quarters in the castle. In the midst of their public lives, these quarters were a tiny, but beloved, haven that all three members of the royal family were grateful to have.

  When they had settled into the older, thread-bare and comfortable couches in the family den, Kamarie opened her mouth to complain, but Arnaud raised a hand, forestalling her tirade.

  “Kamarie, it is not what you think.”

  “Not what I think? What am I supposed to think? I walked into that room tonight fearing that I had been pledged to Prince Elroy without my approval, which would have been bad enough, but to be sent away without even discussing it with me first? How can you do this to me? Where am I supposed to go?”

  “Kamarie, let your father speak.” Zara sat down next to her daughter and patted her hand gently.

  “I have an assignment for you, but it must be kept secret. I needed an excuse, something to keep anyone from guessing the real reason that I am sending you away from the palace. Fortunately, it is common knowledge that Prince Elroy was intending to court you.”

  Kamarie felt her anger receding. She sat back quietly and let her father continue.

  “There is a man that I need to send a message to. I cannot entrust any normal courier with this message, and I cannot let word get out that I am trying to reach him. I need someone I can trust, and at this moment, the number of people that I can both trust and spare is very small.”

  Kamarie nodded, at once both placated and intrigued. “So that is why you are sending me.”

  “Exactly. His name is Brant, and he was once the King’s Warrior. I need you to find him, the last I knew, he was living near Peak’s Shadow, and ask him to come to our aid. I will give you a note so he will know I sent you, since he is not likely to recognize you.”

  “Who is he? Why do you need him?”

  Arnaud sighed. “He helped keep me on the throne when King Jairem first proclaimed me as his heir. He was my right hand man for the first years of my reign, and he was a brother to me before that. He knew me when I was just Arnaud. Besides that, he is an excellent warrior and a brilliant strategist, and I will need both in order to win this war.”

  “I see,” Kamarie said. “Forgive me for losing my temper, I just want to help so much, and the idea of being sent away without any opportunity to do something, anything, was more than I could stand. I would be honored to undertake this mission.”

  “Thank you,” Arnaud replied wryly. “I thought you would understand, if you gave me a chance to explain.”

  Kamarie nodded, barely hearing his words; her quick mind was racing to plan out her journey. For a moment, she slipped into a pleasant daydream. She would be the traveling princess in disguise that none would recognize but all would love. If she was lucky, bandits might attack their party, steal their money and kidnap her escorts. She, of course, would slip noiselessly into the forest and then, when her attackers least expected, she would rescue her friends and they would travel on; maybe the bandits would even be of the breed that was loyal to their king, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor and all that. Then they would offer to be their guides through the forest and sharpen their survival skills as their band grew. This trip was definitely starting to have possibilities.

  Kamarie grinned and Zara squeezed her shoulder, bringing her out of her daydream. “You must leave as soon as possible. Darby will travel with you, of course, and your father has arranged for one of the squires to escort you on your journey.”

  The castle was turned upside down within a few days. Soldiers and diplomats were everywhere, taking stock of their weapons and options. Dining halls and ballrooms were exchanged for mapping and strategy rooms as Arnaud readied his people for war. The countryside was now a training ground where the sound of metal on metal never ceased.

  Kamarie’s own preparations were underway as well. While it felt strange to be leaving the palace not knowing when she would return, there was a deep contentment growing inside of her. Trading long gowns, pointless sheer shawls and diamond-studded, uncomfortable shoes for sturdy boots, leather cloaks and woolen tunics was far more to her liking. These clothes were more practical for the adventure ahead and far more comfortable for the activities she preferred.

  Understanding his daughter’s heart more than she guessed, King Arnaud asked Sir Garen to present Kamarie with her own sword. She received it gracefully, doing her best to hide her delight, but she fooled no one as she easily sheathed the familiar weapon and looked up with a glow in her eyes. Queen Zara may have been surprised, but King Arnaud quietly shared the glow with his princess.

  Kamarie was to depart within forty-eight hours. Darby had shown little reaction to the news that they were traveling south. All she had said was, “Humph, I suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

  Oraeyn, a young squire about the same age as Kamarie, would be the only other companion on this journey. He had the misfortune to be training under a knight who had two squires. The other squire was older and would be going to battle with his knight-mentor. Oraeyn was not pleased with this new assignment, but nobody had asked him so he gritted his teeth and bore his disappointment alone. This was to have been his first big battle and the ache of being sent away grated on his nerves. Oraeyn glared at Kamarie and Darby every time he saw them over the next two days. Neither one of them seemed to notice his silent attack, which only added to his frustration.

  Kamarie spent much of her time finding out all she could about this King’s Warrior. Since her mission was supposed to be secret, she asked her questions as innocently as she could, expressing her interest as pure curiosity due to rumors and gossip she had heard. She tried to speak with her father, but he was preoccupied with other tasks and did not seem eager to answer her questions.

  “I’m sorry, darling,” Zara replied when Kamarie came to her, “I do not know Brant well, but your father trusts him and my heart tells me he is worthy of that trust. My only comfort in sending you away is that your purpose is to find him. More than that, I cannot say.”
>
  In frustration, Kamarie turned to Darby. “If he and my father were so close, why have I never heard him mentioned before?” she asked, as the elderly maid folded up some clothes to be packed for their journey.

  “Well, dearie, he’s been gone from your father’s service a long while now, before you were born, I believe. I never got to know him, although I saw him around the palace quite a bit at the beginning of your father’s reign, but he and your father were quite close, at least according to your mother. Closer than brothers is how she described them once, if I’m remembering correctly.” And that was all that Darby would say on the subject, so Kamarie hunted elsewhere for information.

  She found Sir Garen in the armory polishing his sword. He was the oldest and wisest knight in Aom-igh. It was common knowledge that he was undefeated with a sword and his history in battle required an age he did not show. He directed all combat training with a demanding eye and his knights both loved and feared him. Garen would be one upon whom Arnaud would rely in this coming battle. Garen insisted that knights take care of their own armor and weapons, and he led by example.

  “Sir Garen?” Kamarie asked.

  “Yes, Princess? I suppose you’ve come to learn about Brant.”

  “What?” Kamarie was puzzled.

  “The King’s Warrior, his name is Brant.”

  “Yes, I know... I was just wondering...”

  Garen grinned. “I know all about your mission, Princess. It was my idea.”

  “Oh. Well, yes, I was wondering what you knew about him?”

  Garen sighed. “Precious little. He arrived with your father when King Arnaud was summoned to court to be named as King Jairem’s heir.” Garen’s eyes took on a far-away look as he sat back, lost in memory. “They were just boys at the time, but there was something about the way that one carried himself. It spoke of nobility and pride and self-assurance, the kind that a man gets when he’s been in battle more than once and faced enemies that meant business. Oh, he tried to hide it, tried to stay in the background and let Arnaud take all the scrutiny, but he couldn’t escape the notice of everyone. Some noticed and some thought a mistake had been made, that Brant was the real heir. King Jairem insisted though, and so did Brant. He could have taken the throne, there were quite a few who would have given it to him,” here Garen chuckled, “Arnaud himself was one of them, but that Brant... he never seemed to want it.”

  “He wasn’t ambitious?”

  “Not in that way. He was content to become Arnaud’s Warrior, to wander the realm and bring justice where it was needed and report problems back to his King. Then, in the year you were born, he came to the palace one time, just briefly, submitting his resignation, asking the king to let him out of his oath, his sworn bond. Seems he had met a woman and he wanted to settle down and pursue a life with her. The land was settled and at peace, and Brant had done so much... well, your father granted his request, didn’t even think about it.”

  Kamarie frowned. “Thank you, Sir Garen.”

  “You be careful on your journey now, do you understand me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just mean that you shouldn’t go looking for trouble,” Garen replied.

  Kamarie grinned and left the armory without saying a word. She had much to think about and she felt that, even with all the information Garen had shared, this King’s Warrior was an even bigger mystery than before.

  The morning of the departure was cloudy, and by the time Kamarie, Darby, and Oraeyn were ready to set out the sky let loose with a cold downpour of rain. Queen Zara’s pale blue eyes searched the horizon anxiously. She turned to her husband. “Do you think they really ought to…?” she did not finish the question, but Kamarie knew what her mother had been going to say. She was actually wondering the same thing herself. She did not relish starting out in the rain, nor was she going to get too excited about setting up camp or sleeping outside if it continued like this. It was a miserable day for traveling.

  King Arnaud replied to the half-asked question, “Your tracks will be washed away by the rain; your cloaks are of good, solid cloth; and your horses are well trained and will not mind the weather. The longer you stay here in the palace, the harder it will be to leave in secret. Also, you may as well get used to this weather, you will certainly run into more on your way to Peak’s Shadow.”

  Kamarie believed him and steeled herself inwardly. Her father had come to the throne in unlikely fashion. He had been raised by his aunt and uncle on a farm in southern Aom-igh with no knowledge that his real parents were distant relatives to the king. The king before Arnaud had never had any children. The distantly related Arnaud, living in the country and completely unaware of his royal blood, had been King Jairem’s choice to succeed him to the throne. King Jairem had searched the country far and wide for someone with the right family history as well as the right sort of character and had found Arnaud. Kamarie’s father had been set on the throne somewhat against his will. His life growing up had not been the sort that most royalty considered their right and privilege. Kamarie knew her father had spent many cold nights tending sheep before his appointment to the throne of Aom-igh.

  Outwardly the king smiled cheerfully when he spoke of the weather they would run into, but inwardly he was worried. He did not know what was in store for his kingdom; all he had was a guess. He had allowed a few rumors to escape the walls of the palace encouraging the belief that Kamarie would be traveling the country in royal style, surrounded by an entourage, with the purpose of expressing encouragement and hope among their people. He calculated that sending her on this urgent mission, off the beaten path, in peasant attire, with only two companions would keep her unnoticed. He needed her to reach Peak’s Shadow unharmed and undetected. Not only for her sake, but for her companions and for Brant as well. He knew what Brant’s presence would add to their chances and he feared this may be known to their enemies as well.

  He turned to Oraeyn. “Do you remember the directions?”

  The boy nodded. “Yes, sir, like I know my own sword.”

  Arnaud was satisfied. He knew this capable squire was disappointed at being given these orders and taken away from the impending battle, but someday perhaps he would understand just how important this mission was. When he meets Brant, I don’t think he will remain disappointed, Arnaud smiled to himself. Someday, the king was sure, this youth would make a fine knight.

  Zara held Kamarie close as the rain poured down on them. “Be careful Kamarie,” she whispered almost pleadingly. Then she turned to Oraeyn. “You watch over them.” It was not a request.

  Arnaud hugged Kamarie and handed her a small piece of paper with his seal on it before she expertly mounted her horse. Kamarie met his eyes and smiled as she slipped the note into a secret pocket on the inside of her cloak.

  “Don’t worry, Father, we will find Brant.”

  Arnaud put an arm around Zara as the three travelers rode off into the rain. “They will find Brant, and we will see them again.”

  Zara stared after her daughter. “I hope so,” she whispered, “I hope so.”

  Together they turned and walked back inside. The private farewell took place behind the stable and away from prying eyes. No one knew when the Princess was leaving, and King Arnaud intended to keep it that way. Meanwhile, he now had to prepare his country for war, and a weariness settled over Arnaud that would not pass for many long days.

  chapter

  TWO

  “No, we’re supposed to go that way!” Oraeyn yelled in exasperation, pointing south.

  The three travelers had been wandering through the woods for a good part of the morning now, and Oraeyn was fed up with the Princess Kamarie and her royal maid. He knew which way they were supposed to go, but Kamarie seemed to think that her input had something to do with where they would end up. Oraeyn was frustrated, cold, wet, tired, and hungry, and he would have sworn that the fool girl wanted them to end up in some kind of danger.

  “Oh look! The river,” K
amarie pointed out coolly.

  Imagine the nerve of that silly stable boy thinking he knew this forest better than she did! She was convinced that he would not be of any help when bandits attacked them. She had not counted on a spoilsport squire coming along on her adventure.

  “And which way do you think we should follow the river, your highness?” Oraeyn asked through gritted teeth.

  “That way, of course,” Kamarie said, pointing upstream, which she knew full well was the wrong direction, back towards the palace, just to annoy him; it worked.

  “Fine!” Oraeyn exploded. “Have it your way! But when we show up back at the palace, I’m not going to take the blame for getting us lost, I know which way we are supposed to go, and you, apparently, have no experience in following directions at all! You want to go up-river… then… you... go up-river!” He knew he was sputtering, but he no longer cared, “I, on the other hand, am going to go down-river, through the Mountains of Dusk, and into the village called Peak’s Shadow, to find your father’s friend and explain why you are not with me. But I won’t have to explain that will I? Because you know where you’re going. You know your way around, don’t you?”

  “Of course I knew we had to head down-river, stable boy,” Kamarie said in a chilly tone. As he began his tirade, Kamarie was simply amused, but by the time he finished, she was no longer amused and in no mood to explain that she had been teasing.

  At that, Oraeyn completely lost any and all grip he had on his loosely controlled frustration. What right did she have to treat him like this? She was only a princess, after all. And he was a squire, in training to become a defender of her nation. Without people like him, she might have been born a peasant’s daughter. The nerve of her referring to him as a stable boy!

  He dismounted from his chestnut horse and marched over to her. Glaring up at her through the rain that had been pouring down on them all day, he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the saddle. She let out a startled yelp and started beating on him with her fists. He had to admit, the girl could throw a punch. He swung her into his arms and turned as she started yelling and protesting.