The Death Dealer - The Complete Series Page 4

  “He kissed me in the gardens, quite passionately.” Cassandra put her hands to her mouth. She was thrilled; Grace could see it in her eyes. “Is that proper behavior here? In Arganis, Leon would skin a boy for trying that with me.”

  “Things are different at home. Leon is very conservative in any and all romantic aspects, and George never notices these things. Just don’t get yourself caught, because innocent garden kisses can ruin a reputation if the wrong eyes should see.”

  “Eyes that belong to Katherine of Actis?”

  Cassandra tapped the side of her nose. “I heard you had an encounter with a snake at dinner.” Grace raised her eyebrow. “Calvin came looking for you only a few moments before your return. You need to watch out for that woman.” As Cassandra spoke, she slowly pulled things from Grace’s trunk.

  Leather jerkin, black riding trousers, a black, long-sleeved tunic, old leather riding boots, and an executioner’s hood. All were laid out before Grace on the bed. The hood stared up at its master with blank eyes. “We’ve the fortune of being placed on the first floor, milady.” Cassandra now set to work helping Grace undress. “The only flaw, of course, is that a watchman makes his rounds in the area and passes the window every half hour. He passed this room ten minutes ago. I’ve been watching him all night. If you insist on going out, let me extinguish the lights and we’ll wait for his next pass.”

  Cassandra was a homebody. Her life, as she and everyone else saw it, was to sew, cook, and clean up after the women of the Hilren line. Her mother was a maid, her maternal grandmother was a seamstress, and her paternal grandmother was a cook. The Cooper women had never lived exciting lives, so for the young maid, it was exciting that the lady she waited on was adventurous. Grace felt she needed the careful organization of Cassandra to go about at night, and Cassandra made sure the coast was clear while Grace used this knowledge to sneak around. When Grace was ready, Cassandra extinguished the flames. She would sit and wait for the hour to get later before going out.

  Three

  Grace went out sometime after the night watch rang the first hour. By that time, she believed it would be safe to venture out somewhat unseen. She took a quick nap after Tristan returned her to her room, and when she awoke at midnight there were still a few courtiers making merry around the palace. By one o’clock, almost the whole ground had fallen silent. No doubt many knights were resting their bodies for the first day of the tournament, and none wanted to be too bogged down with good food and wine.

  Sneaking out was no simple task, but dressed in black, she managed to avoid detection. The clouds were in her favor that night; blocking the moonlight from the paths and making her unseen to the castle guards. Just before sunrise, hooded and cloaked, Grace crept back into her room. Caked in mud, she threw herself down on her bed and fell into a deep sleep.

  A few hours later Cassandra threw open the shutters of the room and Grace groaned as she was forced out of her sleep. Her servant stood over her bed, wearing a scowl that could curdle milk. Grace pulled the covers up and over her head. It was hot under the blankets, but she wasn’t ready to face the day yet.

  “Up,” Cassandra said, and pulled the sheets from Grace. “You will be late again if you do not get up now.”

  “Who cares?” Grace mumbled, and covered her head with the pillow since her blankets had been taken.

  “I do. It is bad form to miss the first day of the tournament, especially the blessing of the knights ceremony. Now get up. We have to clean you up before you make an appearance. The temple priests will not be so pleased if you wander into the service late and dirty, and I’ll not have people thinking you have a bad maid who can’t even make you look presentable.”

  Grace sat up in her bed and looked down at herself. Before dropping off to sleep, she only managed to get her hood off. She still wore the jerkin and breeches, and her riding boots had left muddy prints on the sheets. She could feel bits of mud stuck to her face and dirt was under her fingernails, but it did not bother her. Cassandra, on the other hand, was not so complacent about her appearance. The maid accepted her choice in life, but she didn’t accept the mess it made.

  “I can go to the tournament like this,” Grace said, though she regretted the words the moment they released themselves from her tongue.

  Cassandra’s face turned ghostly white and then bright red in a matter of seconds. “Do not even joke about that! If anyone in court were to discover you were the—” She paused; not wanting to risk anyone overhearing her.

  “You would be hanged straight away. You know how the old men of this court feel about women doing what they deem men’s work. They look down upon women in other countries who rule their lands. They whisper that women like that should be flogged, or worse. And what about those who firmly disapprove of enforcement of the law being taken up by a random citizen? What you do is even worse than just holding lands; it’s against the law, and while a man might get away with it, you won’t. Please, Grace, do not joke about such things.”

  Cassandra was only half right in her beliefs. Men like King Frederick did not wholly hate or fear women, or peasants for that matter, who were smart or strong. Rather, he hated and feared those who were not men of noble birth, but who proved themselves more adept than the noblemen. The nobles were the rulers, the lawmakers, the knights; if women and peasants could outsmart them, pride and honor were hurt. Still, the image projected was one of hate toward them in all cases. That was why Grace couldn’t become the Lady of Barony Arganis unless she married a lesser son of a greater house. Even then, Arganis would be her husband’s house, not the Hilren’s.

  The young woman knew Cassandra was right. Frederick would not think twice about having her punished. The work she did was already considered outside the law, but Frederick allowed her brand of justice to continue for whatever reason. If he discovered it was a woman out at night, he would throw her in a dungeon, or worse. Grace got out of bed and followed all of Cassandra’s instructions so she would look presentable for the court.

  ~*~*~

  The temple of the sun god, Ciro, was flooded with people. It was a grand place; there was no mistaking that. Grace had never been somewhere so lavish. Behind the altar was a large, golden statue of the sun god himself. Ciro’s left hand was held out, while his right hand was on his breast. Bright summer flowers were wreathed around his head, and Grace guessed the wives, daughters or mothers of the competing knights decorated the god’s statue to bring good luck to the men. She remembered wreathing the statue of Ciro in Arganis when Calvin ventured to gain his shield, and assumed things would be no different here.

  The knights who were to compete knelt before the altar while the priests chanted and put Ciro’s blessing upon them. The sun god would bestow good fortune onto the tournament and those who competed. At the end of the day, they would do the same for Kamaria, Ciro’s sister, in the moon goddess’s temple. It was all to ensure no one was hurt during the tournament.

  Grace watched as her cousin was blessed. She felt odd and out of place in the temple, because again, everyone was dressed more lavishly than she. Even the temple itself was; with the gold surfaces shimmering in the sun that shone through the great temple windows. Clearly the priests of Ursana were not in need of vast donations for their holy house. The temple around Arganis was in constant need of repairs, and its statues of the Divine Twins, Ciro and Kamaria, were made of wood. Her uncle George didn’t see much need in decorating Ciro with vast amounts of gold, not when such money could be put to better use elsewhere. He was by no means blasphemous to the god and goddess; rather George was a practical man, and Grace understood his desire to see the people fed before outfitting the temple with gold.

  Grace sighed. She wanted to leave. Worshiping was not supposed to be so luxurious, it was supposed to be for reflection and deep thought. She missed her temple at home; a peaceful place with few distractions. Grace was happy when the priests finished their blessings and everyone rose to leave.

  ~*~*~

&nbs
p; It was not even noon yet and the sun was already beating down as people flooded in from all over to see the tournament. The poor, the merchants and the nobles all gathered for the opening day, and Grace found herself swept up in the excitement of the atmosphere. These sorts of things did not happen in Arganis. The most exciting times were the days after harvest when the villagers gathered at the castle. Leon provided a feast, and George thanked those who helped make Arganis prosperous. But that celebration of good health was nothing compared to what King Frederick held in Ursana.

  More spectators turned out for the tournament than there were people in Arganis. She vaguely remembered the crowds from when she came as a girl, but memories did not prepare her for all the activity. She arrived with several other court ladies, and only caught a glimpse of the market where commoners from all over Cesernan gathered to sell goods and services. Grace was far more interested in that, but Cassandra was trying fervently to keep her out of trouble so she would have to come back and explore later.

  “Grace, my dear!” Henry’s robust voice brought a smile to her face. He was already seated in the stadium in front of the jousting ring. “Sit here with me. I saved you a seat.”

  Grace lifted her skirts and climbed the few stairs to take a seat next to Henry. He rose and bowed to her, as was custom. He even took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss.

  “I thought you would rather not be seated next to the ladies who follow Katherine’s word as though it were law. Besides, we did have a lovely conversation last night at the feast. I hope we can continue it.”

  “You are a good friend to me,” Grace said. “And far better company than anyone else I have met.” Her thoughts went to Tristan’s kiss and she hid a blush. “Tell me, how will the jousting go? Calvin is to compete today and I do not want to miss him, but I had hoped to see a few rounds of the sword fighting.”

  “Sword fighting, eh? Not many nobles make their way down there, unless of course Prince Drake is competing. They think too many commoners and lesser knights compete. But I will walk down there with you after the first round of jousting. I once took part in the sword fighting myself, though it has been many long, food-filled years since then.” Henry patted his large stomach. “As for jousting, the lesser knights – the knights without a claim to any real plots of land – will go first in all the events. Calvin will not compete until sometime after lunch.”

  Grace nodded. “Calvin is competing in the sword fighting as well, but he is not to go until tomorrow. I would very much like to see how other knights compare to my cousin.”

  Henry laughed and patted Grace’s shoulder. “Few women of the court take any interest in this. They care about the joust and who wins that. It is usually Sir Benjamin of Salatia, and then the young ladies lobby for his attention.” Henry sighed. “It was not always so. Knights from other countries used to come to compete, but most knights now are too young to remember such times.”

  “What happened to the tournament? My Uncle Leon used to talk of its grandeur not being matched anywhere else in the world.” Grace had limited knowledge of the countries around Cesernan. Most were just names to her. She could name their kings and queens and point to them on a map, but nothing else. George tried to teach her, but she was always more interested in what Leon was teaching. She could read and write, but that was the furthest George ever got with her. Mathematics, geography, history…all those subjects bored her to tears.

  Henry looked around and lowered his voice. “Years ago, the kingdom of Sera sent their knights, as did Eurur and Archon. It was a longstanding tradition to halt border disputes and wars to come to Cesernan for the annual tournament. This lasted for over a century.” Grace nodded, because she had heard all this before. Sera and Archon were neighboring countries, and the country of Eurur was separated by the sea. The idea was to foster fellowship by extending the tournament invitation to other countries, in order to cultivate peace and understanding.

  Henry continued, “The knights from Sera were so well trained, they put many of our men to shame. You see, they have often focused their energies on building an army with no rival. This is because Sera has always had border problems. When King Philip died in a skirmish along his borders, his only child took the throne at fifteen.

  “Princess Elanor of Sera fought alongside her father for years as a squire and page. She was a fine warrior, though still fairly green. But since taking the throne, she hasn’t yet married. It never sat right with King Frederick, and others from outside Cesernan agreed. What kind of country allowed a woman to inherit such a tract of land? People asked this over and over. The first tournament after Elanor was crowned Queen, she came to Cesernan with five of her finest knights. It was made very clear that she was disapproved of, and her knights would not advance in the tournament, no matter how exceptional their skills were. That was nigh on fifteen years ago. After Sera withdrew, Eurur followed. They would not compete if their friends in Sera did not. Archon stayed for a few more years, but found the competition lacking without the other two. It is a shame, really. I would like to see those knights return to the tournament before I die.” Henry fell silent and hung his head. “But Frederick is stubborn and upholds the tradition and biases of his father. I suppose I cannot blame him for that. He is mired in tradition, but aren’t we all?”

  Grace listened with wide eyes and was amazed at Henry’s tale. She knew Sera had a queen and no king, but the bias Elanor met with was a new piece of the tale. She found it hard to believe such a woman could exist in this world. Queen Elanor openly defied generations of tradition by not marrying and not submitting to a husband’s rule. Not only that, she was a trained warrior. Grace would have loved to see the Queen openly defy the men of her country by refusing to marry and submit.

  If Grace had listened more carefully to George’s teachings, she would have understood that what was uncommon for Cesernan was not so uncommon in Sera. Elanor wasn’t breaking tradition, because hers were a proud, willful people who valued courage and honor above anything else in their leaders. To them no one, not even the beloved King Philip, embodied these ideals better than Elanor. However, the image of the warrior Queen provided inspiration to Grace for a long time after hearing Henry’s story. That fact alone was more important than the truth behind the matter.

  ~*~*~

  Henry and Grace watched the first round of the joust before heading to the sword fighting ring. A few lesser nobles were watching, but no one of high status had come to see the competition. The two watched as Sir Gerald and Sir Tomas squared off in the ring.

  “I say Tomas wins,” Grace whispered to Henry as the two men began circling each other.

  “Oh? Everyone else thinks Gerald will win this round. He is the more seasoned knight, and has become renowned among the lesser nobles as a fine swordsman. He’s taken first in the sword at least five, maybe even six times. What makes you say Tomas?”

  “It is in their stances. Gerald watches his face, but Tomas watches his body movement to try and predict Gerald’s next maneuver. And look how Tomas moves his feet; he has excellent balance. Besides, Gerald thinks he has nothing to fear. He has won this tournament before, and Tomas is too new to have won much of anything. Arrogance against a smaller, less experienced opponent is often the downfall of the strongest. Just watch – Tomas will win.”

  The crowds cheered as the two knights clashed swords. Henry watched their movements with great interest. Tomas seemed to dance around Gerald, who stayed flatfooted and used his upper body more than his legs. The two threw themselves at one another again and again. Tomas caught Gerald under his sword arm, quickly disarmed him and put his own sword to Gerald’s throat. He had won.

  Henry looked at Grace carefully. She did not look at him, but wore a smug smile on her face as Tomas was declared the victor. Henry was amazed the young woman had successfully named the winner and accurately critiqued their fighting styles. Most third year pages wouldn’t have been able to do that.

  “Know much about swordplay?”
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  Grace blushed a little. “Arganis has been subjected to bandits and pirates in the past. My Uncle Leon wanted to make sure I was safe, and so I learned a little bit of the sword while Calvin trained for his shield.”

  Henry nodded to make Grace believe he was satisfied with her response, but she had a little more than just ‘basic’ knowledge of the fighting. He could tell she was holding back. It was easy to teach swordplay, but it took interest on a pupil’s part to invest much into critiquing others. Henry hoped she never started such a conversation with anyone else in court. Though the men found her beautiful now, no one would want a wife who could tell him what he was doing wrong with his weapons. Henry would have to probe Grace more, though. He didn’t mind conversing on the subject with such a bright young lady.

  ~*~*~

  The Death Dealer hid in the shadows along the side of the road. Word spread fast that The Death Dealer was in Ursana, so only a few bold criminals came out. So far, Grace had already stopped two roadside robberies. She needed only to emerge from the shadows and the men set off running. That was a favorable response, but also a boring one. It was nice to have a challenge once in a while.

  Footfalls filled Grace’s ears. People were approaching.

  “We’ll make them pay for what they did. No one throws lamp oil on one of my men,” a gruff voice whispered in the dark. Grace squatted down and gripped her sword hilt.

  “What about The Death Dealer? They say he’s in Ursana. He could be protecting Wilson and his family. There are plenty of families to steal from in other places. Let’s just go.”

  “No one bests me or my men, you coward.” Grace saw the larger man hit his companion across the back of the head. “I’m not scared of a little boy wearing a hood and playing with a sword. We’re going to do what we set out to do.”