After settling in at the castle, the hireknights spent the first many days playing games with Muriella. Patrise never wanted to join, thinking games beneath him now that he was a man and the younger sibling, Cemrald, mostly kept to himself.
When the hireknights were not with Mury, they either spent time in their lodgings or attending court activities such as feasts, hunts and service on Mondays and Sundays; one to begin the week and one to end it.
They had received a warm welcome at court. Smiles and compliments about their accomplishments were sent their way when they traversed castle halls, telling them two things; all of the court had heard of the Blackshield Company and all wanted to be their friends.
“It makes sense,” Thera said, raising her sword and swinging it around in the air, “Who would want to be seen opposing the protection of the heiress?”
“Something is off,” Rotta grunted, “I hate it when everyone is nice. It isn’t natural.”
“Calm down, Rotta. There is nothing off in court,” Mury fired, “Now pick up your blade and show me again.”
Rotta and Thera were on duty while the others enjoyed some leisure time in the castle. Mury had brought them to a small arena with a white tiled floor. The building was round and had no roof nor walls, only pillars erupted from the white circular platform on the field.
It was like a miniature version of the colosseum in Dâl Kou’Rham, built for training and sparring in the garden.
The arena was the size of the Grand Duke’s living room, the pillars four metres tall. Red pillows made for comfortable seats between the pillars for onlookers, though at the time of their training there were none.
The midday sun baked them as their weapons clanged against each other. They had left the last month of spring behind and entered the first month of summer. Vynn.
Rotta attacked the young heiress the same way she had done for the past hour. She was trying to teach Mury how to deftly block and divert a frontal attack followed by swiftly counter attacking.
It was not going well.
“What am I doing wrong?” Mury burst, frustrated with her performance.
“Leg work, young heiress,” Rotta said calmly, “Remember your knees. Lean into my blows. Push my arm aside and force my side open.”
Mury nodded at Rotta when she was ready and braced herself for another assault. Rotta jumped at her, swinging her sword down directly towards Mury’s face.
Mury put up her blade to deflect and pushed to force Rotta’s arm aside. To no avail. Her timing was off and she needed the motion of her body to deflect the weight of Rotta. The young heiress fell on her butt, failing to resist the force of Rotta’s blow.
“Maybe I should just get a blowpipe like yours,” Mury suggested defeatedly, “Hidden well. A surprise for sudden assailants. Are you sure you’ve never swallowed a dart?”
“Yes,” Rotta confirmed, “If I had, my insides would be pouring out of my eyes.”
“That is something you would notice,” Mury conceded. She sat in silence on the ground, her mind racing for a moment before she looked up at Rotta, “Might I try?”
“You’ve got the stomach to condemn someone to a Nethling death?” Rotta asked.
Mury’s eyes went from Rotta to Thera.
The Lady of the Land shrugged, “It is a gruesome way to go. You saw the bird. What if that was a human?”
“If someone seeks to murder me, then I’m sorry, but I don’t care how they die,” Mury said matter-of-factly.
“A fair statement,” Thera replied, “But it is something entirely different when your hand condemns them. I couldn’t fire one of Rotta’s darts. Not at a human anyway.”
“Might I try?” Mury tried again.
“When you are ready,” Rotta said, “We need to practise some breathing techniques if I’m to allow this in your mouth. One wrong breath and you’ll swallow a dart.”
“Can I become your squire?” Mury asked, her eyes wide.
“My squire?” Rotta raised an eyebrow and took a step back.
“Both of you,” Mury corrected, “Just while you are here. I’m not allowed to leave Ezperyme and at the moment not even the Palace District, so I couldn’t be a real squire. But you could teach me to fight. Properly. Not just spar with me this once, but a couple of hours a day.”
“You don’t want to be our squire, you want us to be your instructors,” Thera corrected.
“I… yes, I suppose,” Mury confessed, thinking her suggestion over, “I’ve never met a lady who can fight like you two except for Lady Anneka, but she is gone now. I was set to begin practising with her this summer.”
“Who was Lady Anneka?” Thera asked, curious about the name that kept popping up.
“She was - is my father’s cousin but we call her Auntie Anneka. Or we used to. We don’t talk about her anymore,” Mury said, her confidence dissipating swiftly.
“Would you like to talk about her?” Thera continued, noticing Rotta backing out of the conversation mentally.
“Maybe. I don’t know,” Mury said quietly, her gaze on the ground.
“What was she like?” Thera asked.
“Stoic. Brave. Stubborn,” Mury described, “I suppose that’s why she could not forgive my mother. She wanted her dead. She said my father weighed his love for the Grand Duchess higher than the love for his dukedom.”
“Not surprising when she’s allowed to kill men of the court with no repercussions,” Rotta commented, “Not that I’ve got anything against it. My favourite foes are lords as well.”
“There were repercussions,” Mury insisted, “She was confined to her chambers. She was locked in with only her thoughts and her mind is not her friend.”
Thera and Rotta agreed to back off in silence, none of them wanting to touch the subject any further.
“And it’s not like Mattyas was a saint himself. He was always vying for my mother’s attention, his interest in her being of carnal design. I know he did not want to kill me. Everyone knows that. But he did something that night to spark her madness,” Mury tried justifying her mother’s madness by hinting at another kind of assault, “No one knows what happened. Only they were in the feasthall.”
“Let’s not talk of the incident,” Thera said, “We’re outsiders. We’ve no right to comment on your court either way.”
Rotta nodded, “Let us practise some more. Use your anger. Manifest it and beat me with it.”
Mury got up, “I did not mean to make your presence political. I know you’ve sworn the Oath of Neutrality.”
“Think nothing of it,” Thera replied calmingly, “We asked. You answered.”
Mury shook the feeling that followed speaking of Anneka and tightened the grip on her sword. She raised it, telling Rotta that she was ready.
Rotta attacked the young heiress again, but this time Mury managed to block her blow and divert her swing. However, she was not quick enough to seize the opportunity of Rotta’s opening and was quickly defeated by the experienced knight.
Frustrated by her efforts, Mury threw her blade to the ground in anger. She was almost about to yell, but quickly gathered herself by brushing off the dust of her dress, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be dramatic. Losing Anneka is just a rather recent wound and I feel like it will never close.”
“I lost a good friend of mine once,” Thera said, “She was like a sister to me. She saved my life many times and it still makes me sad to say that I could not save hers. But the pain. It passes. Trust me.”
Mury stood in silence for a while and looked at Thera, taking in the hireknight’s words. Then she picked up her sword and walked over to its scabbard which lay discarded on the floor of the small arena.
Sheathing her sword, she turned to her wardens; “I think I’d like to stop for today. Maybe we can do it again tomorrow if you agree to become my instructors?”
“I would not be the woman I am today if not for my mentors at the Army Academy of Caz Carryl,” Thera said, “Seeing as there is no such academy in Ezperyme, I would be honoured to be your instructor.”
Mury lit up when she heard Thera’s answer. Letting go of the scabbard holding her blade she rushed towards Thera and hugged her, “I’ll pay you personally as it is not part of your contract.”
“Keep your gold, Mury,” Thera said, “It is important to build trust with one’s mentor and the promise of gold often hinders friendship. Your mother stays my only employer.”
“But I want to pay you?” Mury burst, confused.
“That is very kind. But imagine yourself in three months. We’ve become close. You trust me. And when you stand there in your chambers with your pouch of gold, you will see something in my eyes that is not there. You will doubt me because my eyes darted to the pouch before they went to you. You won’t be sure if I have faith in your skills or if I’m pretending because I’m paid to. Gold is the beloved mistress of any man, but she destroys more relationships than mistresses of flesh,” Thera explained, “You can never truly trust someone while gold flows between you. If you pay them too much, mortals become greedy. If you pay too little, mortals become angry. And I am like any other mortal on Belhame. Let me do this as part of your mother’s contract. Don’t create a new one.”
“Thank you,” Mury said quietly, stunned by Thera’s lecture.
“I’d like the gold,” Rotta commented.
“And you shall have it,” Mury said, chuckling at Rotta’s dismissal of Thera’s monologue.
“Sir Rotta of the Gold, ladies and gentlemen,” Thera fired jokingly.
“Speak of greed all you want, Princess. I’m taking everything I’m offered,” Rotta retorted quickly.
“You know my brother pays me nothing. I’ve earned all the gold I have,” Thera defended herself.
“You know I wouldn’t get the chance to earn gold if I did not travel with you or Galeforte,” Rotta replied, then turning her gaze to Mury, “What do you suggest?”
“Anneka was supposed to be paid fifty silver a month for the job. An hour in the morning and the evening every day except for Mondays and Sundays,” Mury offered.
“I’ll take it,” Rotta agreed.
“I’ll look forward to those breathing exercises,” Mury said, reaching out her hand. Rotta took it and shook it, “Will we be signing any papers?”
“Only if you think it necessary. Otherwise,” Mury put her hand to the pouch on her belt and took out five square silver coins, “I’ll simply give you these to make it official.”
Rotta accepted the square coins known as tennys or tenneths. One tenny was worth the same as ten silver coins or a thousand copper coins.
“We begin tomorrow. I’ll take the mornings,” Rotta claimed, “Thera can take the evenings.”
“Then you’ll only spend one hour with me,” Mury fired quickly.
“We have two different fighting styles,” Rotta said, “You should not listen to us both at once. I know it’s been hard for Thera to stay quiet during our practice today, we shouldn’t put her through that again.”
“But the fifty silver was calculated to compensate for two hours. One in the morning, one in the evening,” Mury replied.
“See what I mean,” Thera commented.
“You’ll have your two hours,” Rotta said, “We’ll warm up with breathing exercises and poison studies for an hour. Then we’ll practise with the sword for an hour after that.”
“Two hours every morning?” Mury was beginning to regret her decision.
“And then an hour in the evening,” Thera added, “But only the one. I have no second skill to teach you.”
“Are you sure?” Mury asked with a sly smile, “Rotta just called you princess and I don’t think someone without secrets would take that personally.”
“I am a hireknight. I left my previous life behind. I renounced both family and friends, vowing to be neutral in all things forever. I cannot take sides unless I’m paid to and I can never help my family or any who had ties to me before taking the Oath again,” Thera explained, “So calling me what I used to be is like saying I have broken my oath.”
“You were a princess!?” Mury burst, “Of what? Where?”
“A great example of questions I cannot answer,” Thera replied dismissively, turning around and heading back towards the castle. The others followed.
“She was the princess of Caz Carryl,” Rotta said, trying to get a rise out of the Lady of the Land.
“I don’t know why I always defend you from Noa,” Thera fired, annoyed but smiling.
“Me neither,” Rotta retorted, “His words do not hurt me. I find him entertaining.”
“I apologise for my questions,” Mury said, walking up beside Thera, “I’ve always wanted to meet a real princess. There is only one other kingdom here on Gillica and the King of Hymber has no daughters.
“You are a real princess, Mury,” Thera said, “I am not.”
“I’m not a princess. I’m the Lady Protector of Ezperyme and Grand Heiress of Aeddelgild,” Mury corrected, “But not a princess.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“The Grand Duchy is a kingdom, is it not?” Thera argued, “And your father, while bearing the title of Grand Duke, is a king.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Mury hushed the hireknight, “Such statements could lead to a continental war here on Gillica.”
“How?” Rotta inquired.
“There is only one king on Gillica and that is the King of Hymber,” Mury explained, “When Corym Minerborn founded the Grand Duchy, he fought a long war with the kingdom of Hymber. Most of North Gillica was razed and destroyed, its people slaughtered just because he feared a second king would claim power on his continent. Throughout most of written history, the continent of Gillica was synonymous with the kingdom of Hymber. When their king recognised Aeddelgild as independent it was on one condition; that it would remain a duchy and that the regent would never take the title of king.”
“Was this recently?” Rotta asked, clueless about the history of Belhame’s smallest continent.
“It was five hundred years ago,” said Mury, “But there is no reason to blow on dying embers. If anyone heard you, the protectors of the Grand Heiress, say such things, they would think I had said it. And they would think I had said it because I had heard my father say it. And if those rumours made their way to the court of Hymber…”
“Understood,” Thera said, “I suppose we’ve got much to learn about life in Ezperyme.”
Mury considered Thera’s statement for a moment, “Maybe instead of paying you for training me, I could teach you the history of my realm?”
“I would like that,” Thera agreed.
* * *
The hireknights quickly fell into routine over the course of the following couple of weeks. Each morning, Rotta rose with the Gillican sun and replaced Noa in Mury’s bedroom. Then she and Galeforte, whose shift usually began a few hours past midnight, woke the young heiress and kept watch as her court ladies dressed her.
Once her hair had been braided and she had donned her leather armour, Mury followed Rotta and Galeforte to the small arena in the castle garden.
After sword practice, Mury joined her siblings and parents for breakfast in her mother’s chambers. Galeforte and Rotta ate with the family as well, but they were placed at a smaller table in the other end of the room and minded their own business while the three children conversed with their mother.
Galeforte went to bed after breakfast, Thera stepping in to replace him. The Lady of the Land and Rotta spent their noons and afternoons following Mury around the Palace District, helping the young heiress kill her days by visiting court nobles and reading in the Grand Library.
Ephrym took over Rotta’s duties somewhere between late afternoon and early evening and sat patiently on the sidelines during the hour Mury practised with the shield.
Once Thera’s lesson was over, Mury spent an hour in turn teaching the hireknight about the history of Aeddelgild.
The heiress’ history lectures were often interrupted by Patrise coming to get her when forgot dinner during her tales of the past.
Having finished dinner and told her parents goodnight, Mury usually retreated to her chambers and spent her evenings reading while Thera and Ephrym played a round of cards or shared an ale.
Noa replaced Thera an hour or two before midnight, but the Lady of the Land liked to stay and talk while Galeforte and Rotta occupied the music room.
“Are you drunk?” Ephrym asked as Noa staggered inside the room one night.
“Almost,” Noa confessed slurringly, “I shared a bottle of Caryllian Rose with the Grand Duke tonight.”
The Knight of Nothing stumbled as he sat down on a third chair by Mury’s table, “Maybe two or three.”
“My father must be fond of you, sharing his best before you’re supposed to watch me,” Mury commented, slightly annoyed with the hireknight.
“I may have neglected to tell him that,” Noa replied, “But do not worry, Mury, I’ve been sleeping most of the day. I’ll be awake through the night.”
“Will you be alert?” Mury questioned sharply.
“Of course! I’m always incredibly aware of my surroundings,” Noa declared. Ephrym flicked a card in his brother’s face, causing Noa to flinch and curse at him.
Mury chuckled, “My most perfect protector.”
“How kind you are, Mury,” Noa said with a laugh.
“I won’t tell on you this time, but don’t do it again,” Mury replied, removing her smile to make sure the Knight of Nothing understood.
She caught Noa by surprise, evident by the sound of protest that he caught in the back of his throat before letting his eyes fall to the floor, “Of course not, heiress.”
“Well… what do you think?” Mury asked.
“Of what?” Noa replied, confusion in his eyes.
“My father. Now you’ve spent proper time with him,” Mury continued, putting down her book.
“He’s unlike any other regent I’ve met,” Noa answered, “Witty. Present. He seems like he listens to those around him. No offence, Thera.”
“None taken. My brother is not fun company,” Thera confessed.
“What is your brother like?” Mury asked, “I’ve only ever met one other regent than my father and the King of Hymber does not talk to other women than his wife so it was not a memorable experience.”
Thera took a pause and thought for a moment, “Hendric is much like your own brother, Patrise. Duty bound and belittling.”
“Patrise is fun,” Mury deflected.
“If you’re his sister,” Thera retorted, “I don’t think I can count all the insults he threw our way on the walk between the Dustmaiden and Castle Barihd on two hands.”
“That’s because you lost your pinky when we fought those bandits in Eriolgor,” Noa quipped, holding up all ten of his fingers, “I can count his insults.”
“Alright, I’ll confess he can be a bit self absorbed when engaging with people beneath his station,” Mury said, chuckling at Noa’s comment, “But he has a good heart.”
Noticing the heiress warming up to him yet again, Noa continued, “Your youngest brother, however. What is wrong with him? First time we met him, he told us to make sure our eyes would not fall out when watching you. And just the other day, I noticed him following me as I took a stroll in the garden. He wasn’t trying to hide or anything, he was just following me at a ten metre distance and watching me. I would call him creepy if he was not a child. Odd, though.”
“Very odd,” Thera agreed with a soft laugh.
“He is not old enough to remember when mother was well. She spent many hours reading and playing with Patrise and I. Cemrald has only seen shut doors and heard screams in the night. It is not surprising he is odd, but it shouldn’t subtract from his character,” Mury burst, changing yet again from the naive, young heiress into the polite, but assertive Lady Muriella vyn Barihd-Hezio of Ezperyme, Grand Heiress of Aeddelgild.
She swung her legs over the side of her bed and held up her hand to claim their attention, “A good rule of thumb I’ve learned is; Nobles and Regents get one first impression, other adults get two as they may be bewildered when speaking with royalty, but children? Children should have as many first impressions as it takes to find common footing, for you just may be the reason an angry boy grows into a caring man instead of reaching the early grave that people without patience have dug before him.”
The hireknights were silent, all three impressed with the young woman’s emotional insight.
Even the nihilistic Knight of Nothing was touched somewhere deep within him and he quickly ate his words, “Well spoken. You’ve actually managed to make me sorry for a thing I said.”
“That’s impressive,” Ephrym said, enforcing the importance of Noa’s statement. Mury smiled, satisfied with herself.
Noa took pause, considering what words he should utter next as he valued dialogue and wanted to give life to the right thoughts that washed over his ever-mumbling mind, “I am intrigued to know what kind of ruler you will be. I think I should like to apply for a position in your court once I’m done with life as a hireknight. Hopefully, the throne is yours by then.”
“I would be happy to have you, but most in the Court of Ezperyme end up as artists or drunkards. The kingdom does not have that many positions of true importance,” Muriella explained, though a faint hope in her voice confirmed that she would truly be happy to have him.
“I could serve as the commander of a battalion until your Knight Commander retires or dies, then put my name up for that position,” Noa suggested, “Alternatively, I have always been interested in the daily challenges of the mind that an Archscholar is subject to. Or a High Councillor. Mezaïa smite me if I lie, but I feel I would be brilliant in any office. You name it, young heiress, and I shall do it better than any in Aeddelgild has done before.”
“You are either uncharacteristically confident in yourself tonight or you don’t think much of this realm,” fired Thera with a loud laugh.
Noa sent back a smile, followed by the words; “I have always been confident in my abilities. It is confidence in the nature of people I lack and now, this night, I have come across a heart that I could see myself following.”
He shifted his gaze back to Mury and continued sincerely, “You are inspiring, my Lady. Few are.”
“Thank you, Sir Knight,” Mury replied, her cheeks blushing.
“Call me Noa,” the hireknight replied, “Or Knight of Nothing. A title I am fond of.”
“Alright, that is enough flirting for me. I think I shall retire,” claimed Thera and got up from her seat. Turning to Ephrym, she reached for their shared bottle of ale on the table, “Do you want the rest of it?”
“Take it,” he replied, “You’ll need it before you head into the den of loud lovers.”
Thera nodded with a sigh and drank the rest before leaving the twins with the young heiress. When the door closed, Noa turned his gaze to Mury, “I’m not flirting with you, heiress.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” she said with a soft smile, “All of my suitors are men well over forty and you two seem the youngest in your company. How old are you, Knight of Nothing?”
“I am exactly in the middle of my twenties,” Noa replied, allowing new thoughts in his head that he had not dared think of the young woman before.
“When my mother married my father, she was sixteen and he was thirty. If you were to return your Oath of Neutrality to the regent that signed it and take up residence here, you would suddenly become my most promising suitor,” Mury continued, “That is, if you were lying about not flirting.”
Ephrym began chuckling while his brother’s cheeks turned redder than the curtains covering Mury’s bedroom window.
“I am not entertaining this conversation while I am this drunk and you are in your nightgown,” Noa said.
“But he will most definitely be flirting from now on,” Ephrym assured the young heiress. Mury laughed, a new kind of tingle in her eye as she looked at Noa, “Goodnight, you two.”
“Goodnight, Mury,” the twins said in unison as they turned their attention to the cards on the table. Noa watched as Mury crawled under her covers out of the corner of his eye, silently celebrating this unexpected opportunity that had arisen in Ezperyme.
Returning his Oath of Neutrality to King Hendric Edmonnes would mean reclaiming his nobility. An option he had not thought of until this moment. He would do great as the lover of a queen regent. Almost a position he felt born for.
“You open,” Ephrym said, snapping Noa back to reality. Noa looked at the cards his brother had dealt him, but could not help but let his mind wander about a life in this foreign court.
* * *
Nearing the month of Pella, the second month of summer, the heat of the sun had increased manyfold. People flocked around the many city wells, hoisting up water from the Lake of Tears which was the underground lake that originated somewhere within the Weeping Mountain and ran beneath the city.
Thera and Rotta were standing by one of the large wells in the Palace District, cupping water from Mury’s bucket and splashing the cold liquid onto their faces and necks.
Once the bucket had been emptied, Mury lowered it a second time, “Pella is the worst month of the year.”
“It is terribly hot, I’ll give you that,” Thera replied, stepping over to help Mury pull the bucket back up.
“Pella is the reason most people of Aeddelgild don’t live to see their sixtieth birthday,” Mury explained, “You’ll see in three days when Vynn has passed. The bodies will start stacking. It was summer that took my grandmother.”
“Water is a valuable resource in realms like this,” Rotta stated.
“And don’t my father know it,” Mury continued, “Taxation on usage of the city wells always increases this month. When I become ruler, I’ll remove that taxation entirely. At least for the month of Pella.”
“A sound decision, Mury,” Thera commended, gulping down a third cup of water.
The well they were standing by, called the Duke’s Thirst, was a hole the size of a small tavern, a circular wall of sandstone surrounding it. The wall was wide enough for seating and table use and stood about one metre in height.
At least fifty nobles had had the same idea as Mury and her hireknights, spending their noon talking, drinking and cooling themselves by the well. Even the Grand Duke and his brother, Knight Commander Pataly, were present, standing by themselves surrounded by knights on the side of the well opposite the hireknights.
“I don’t think our armour will see much action during the next couple of months,” Rotta joked with an exhausted smile, “Except for your stupid helmet. How do you stand the heat wearing it?”
“It doesn’t make me sweat anymore than the rest of my clothing,” Thera replied, referring to her light leather armour.
“Bluesteele doesn’t warm in the sun,” Mury told the hireknights, “Rather, it deflects the sun, keeping its rays from touching its wearer. That is why my father’s knights do not faint in the heat, despite wearing full plate for days at a time.”
“Where would one acquire a full set of bluesteele plating?” Rotta asked curiously.
“I’m sure my father would be willing to supply it, should I ask on your behalf,” Mury replied, “But with the price of baridel being what it is, I don’t think it would come for free.”
“I’ve got the gold he paid us in advance,” Rotta offered.
“A thousand split into five is two hundred,” Mury calculated aloud, “A bluesteele breastplate alone is usually sold for thirty to forty gold. With everything included, helmet, vambraces, greaves, boots, you could easily rack up a price of a hundred and fifty. But knowing my father wants me to practise my negotiation skills, I could tell him that we spent half an hour arguing and ended up agreeing on a hundred.”
Rotta chuckled, “A hundred it is.”
“Splendid,” Mury said and put forth her hand. She and Rotta sealed the deal with a handshake, celebrating by lowering the bucket once again.
Murmurs spread like wildfire throughout the mass of people gathered by the well, the pace of buckets being lowered and raised rapidly increasing.
“What is going on?” Thera asked, looking around with a slightly worried expression on her face.
Rotta pulled up Mury’s bucket quite easily, all three of them watching as the empty bucket emerged from the well.
“What is -” Mury was dumbfounded. People kept throwing their buckets into the well, hoping a second or third try would dissolve any tension rising in the Palace District.
“Where’s the water, your highness?” A man yelled towards the Grand Duke. Only then did Argoste notice the panic arising around him.
The regent looked around at the scared faces of his subjects, then stepped closer to the well.
“Pataly, pull us some water,” Argoste ordered his brother. Pataly did as he was told but as with everyone else, his bucket came back empty.
“The lake is empty!” Shouted a woman from the crowd.
“Calm yourselves,” Mury said loudly, “My father will solve this problem. You know he will.”
People tried to calm themselves and reminded each other of their regent’s resolve, which they had witnessed many times over the course of his twenty-eight year reign.
The young heiress made her way to her father’s side, followed by Thera and Rotta, while Argoste took a step back from the well to address his subjects, “There is only one answer for this problem. Lady Anneka and her renegade knights must have entered the Weeping Mountain and cut off our water supply.”
“Then we know where she is,” said Pataly.
“We do,” Argoste replied, then, raising his voice for his people to hear, he continued, “And I will personally ride out and undo the damage she has done.”
Cheers erupted around the well, celebrating the heroism of Aeddelgild’s ruler.
“Pataly, ready your knights. We move out in an hour,” Argoste commanded. Pataly nodded and moved towards the Palace District Barracks with half of the knights that had accompanied him and his brother to the well.
“Father,” Mury began, seizing Argoste’s attention when she arrived at his side, “I would like for you to bring Lady Thera and Knight Rotta with you.”
“What?” said both Thera, Rotta and Argoste in unison.
“Their job is to protect you, mine is to protect the realm,” Argoste continued after sharing the word of surprise with the hireknights.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll run up to the castle and get Galeforte and Noa, they can look after me. But I want you to bring Thera,” Mury bade.
“Why?” asked Argoste, his gaze confused on his daughter.
“Because you and Aunt Anneka don’t know how to agree and I don’t want to see her dead. Thera knows how to communicate. She’s been in sieges. She’s hunted fugitives. She was a Princess, for Mezaïa’s sake,” Mury said, “I want you to bring Aunt Anneka back to us. Maybe I can talk some sense into her when she gets here. Please. Let Thera try bringing her back alive.”
Argoste was about to reject his daughter’s idea, but stopped himself before the sound in his throat became words. Then he thought for a moment, “Fine,” and turned to Thera and Rotta, “Meet me by the north gate in an hour. Don’t be late. And make sure someone watches Mury in your absence.”
“Of course, my liege,” Thera said. Argoste turned heel and walked towards the castle with the remaining knights.
“I’m sorry, I - I miss her,” Mury said, her eyes sparkling in the sunlight as she looked pleadingly up at Thera.
“I will try, Mury,” Thera said, “But I can promise nothing.”
“I understand,” Mury said, her gaze finding her feet. Thera put her hand on the young heiress’ shoulder, “Sometimes loss is too painful to accept, but that only means that you truly treasured the person you lost. Just remember that you’ll always have the memories. Having said that, I will truly do my best.”
“Thank you,” Mury replied, her gaze finding Thera’s once more.
“Let us find the others,” said Rotta, pushing them both towards the castle.