B3 Chapter 4

Lucan walked out of the keep to the sound of grunts and the clash of metal echoing off the palisade. He glanced to the side and saw ten men in dirty tunics sitting on the ground with their knees held close to them. He felt that nearly all their faces were familiar to him, perhaps inhabitants of the bailey. Two of them looked unfamiliar, perhaps refugees.

Two of the trainees saw him first and bolted to their feet, followed by the rest of them, who looked flustered as they bowed to him. Lucan returned their recognition with a nod before walking around the keep towards the sound of sparring. Even as his anticipation pushed him to see who was making the noise, his thoughts were elsewhere. It wouldn’t be long now, before he had to return to the Needles. As promised, Lord Arden had summoned all the southern lords to his estate. It had been settled that they would all be there twenty days from the day of the invitation, and that was a fortnight from now. Not long at all.

Lucan came upon the sight of Aldous sparring with his father at last, both of them holding training swords and squaring off against each other. The first time this had happened, it had heartened Lucan, and it still did. Seeing his father up and about, his spirit alive, even if not truly reignited, rekindled his hopes for the man. He’d worried that he would spend his days withering away, and in part, he was. But for now, he was hanging by a thread, and that thread was these sparrings. The first time he’d seen such a sight, his father had been lost, his footing uncertain and his grip on his sword shaky. But over time, he’d gotten surefooted, and his attacks bore more weight, even if nearly all of them did not strike true.

But even though most strikes did not land or were easily parried, it didn’t seem to prevent his father from taking joy in his training, and Lucan only saw good in that. It was quite an oddity, though, to see how easily Aldous handled the former knight, considering how thoroughly the latter would’ve crushed him had he still had his eyes.

The clash of training swords came to a halt, which brought him out of his thoughts. Aldous handed the former lord a piece of cloth to wipe his sweat, and soon his father began following the wall of the keep in the other direction, having not noticed his arrival. He didn’t speak, and let him walk back to his chamber in silence. Aldous had done well by keeping the training out of sight.

Unlike his father, the master-at-arms had seen him the moment he’d stepped around the corner of the keep, but had kept quiet. Once they were left alone however, he turned towards Lucan and dipped his head. “My lord.”

“Aldous,” Lucan nodded. “You have my gratitude for this.”

“There’s no gratitude in duty,” Aldous recited. “Would you like to have a bout yourself?” He raised his training sword invitingly.

“Perhaps another day,” Lucan said with a chuckle. “You have nearly a dozen men waiting for your guidance.” He nodded over his shoulder.

“Ah, yes.” Aldous raised his brows as though having forgotten about the men being bathed in sunlight around the corner. “I’ve made them wait.”

“How long before they’re ready?”

“Not long now. It doesn’t take much to make a guardsman. Most townsmen surrender to their authority before their blades.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “A month and Master Thomas will have them in his service, though they will keep coming to me for training like the others. I don’t believe it is wise for the guards to remain greenhands for long.”

Lucan could only agree to that, giving the master-at-arms an approving nod. “It seems you and Thomas have matters in hand then.”

“Of course, my lord. You need not worry.”

Satisfied, Lucan gave the man a few encouraging words before parting from him and heading towards the bailey.

As he came to the walkway that led down to the bailey, however, he saw Lilian coming out of the keep. There were dark circles around her eyes, and her face was pale and haggard.

He approached his betrothed. “The dreams again?”  She’d been suffering from nightmares since their excursion into the Wilderlands. Lucan had hoped they’d get better with time, and the time between each one and the next had indeed stretched wider, but that hadn’t made them any better when they did come.

She sighed, her breath faint. “Yes.” She paused, gulping. “This time, I was…killing a man.”

Lucan’s hands found her shoulders, and he pressed them gently before pulling her closer into an embrace. She laid her shoulder on his chest and breathed as he wrapped his arms around her. Unfortunately, while his arms could protect her from plenty, they could not protect her from dreams. This was all he could offer her. Reassurance. Unless…perhaps if they shared a bed? But no, it would be improper, and he doubted his betrothed would accept such an offer, even if they had gotten more intimate as of late. Lucan pondered whether it might be time for them to be wed soon, particularly before all the chaos that was to come.

“Thank you,” she muttered, her voice muffled by his chest.

“It’s my pleasure.”

“You don’t seem so carefree yourself.” She took a step back and looked at his face. “What troubles you?”

“Only thoughts for now.”

“Of what?” She fell in beside him in the usual manner as he turned towards the walkway.

“Sir Ward.”

“She scrunched up her face.” Even she knew of the enmity between their two estates quite well.

“I was wondering whether it might be fruitful to invite him into our alliance as well…but”

“He is your enemy.”

“Not truly,” Lucan said. “No blood has been spilled, none too fresh at least.”

“But can you put your trust in him?”

Lucan paused as they stepped down into the bailey. “I suppose not.”

Lilian gave him a meaningful look and a shrug at that.

“I suppose not…” he repeated, this time answering his own first question.

They found their way to one of the small gates that led from the bailey to the town proper and stepped out onto the cobbled street. Sawyer had done fine work. Tastefully built homes and structures spread around them, divided by small streets that seemed planned to prevent clogging at all costs.

They passed by a small house, its shingled roof raising a chimney that barely smoked, though it soon would as winter drew nearer. After it, they came upon the inn the estate had shared in building and owning. Lucan only gave it an intrigued glance. It was ironic that he’d never been inside the structure, even though it had been built at his behest. Thomas had certainly visited on more than one occasion. The old steward was nothing if not thorough.

Some townsmen were walking the streets, mostly with haste in their step, likely going about their work. Whoever took note of him either stopped for a quick bow or did it as they walked. It was not uncommon for him to wander his estate, and folk were used to it. A pair of guards marched by, stopping to give him a proper bow and receiving a nod in return before continuing on their watch. A few steps later, Lucan’s nose picked up an unpleasant smell and he scrunched up his face. He would have to tell Sawyer to work on some sewage works, even if it would cost them. Silvergate was barely a town, and already it was beginning to smell like Arpague.

“You will be going back to Lord Arden soon then?”

“Yes.”

“For this alliance.”

“Indeed,” Lucan said, catching sight of the guardsmen barracks. It was nearly built, with only a few polishing touches unrealized.

They passed it by before Lilian asked, “What would you call it?”

“Huh?” Lucan frowned.

“This alliance would have a name, would it not?”

“Uhh,” he sputtered for a moment. “I suppose…yes. Perhaps The Southern Alliance.”

Lilian gave him a deadpan stare. “What an inspiring title for such a grand alliance.”

Lucan smiled ruefully. “I hadn’t thought of it. As a matter of course, gathering an alliance happens before naming it.” Now, he gave her the smug look.

“Yes, of course,” she said, ignoring his playful provocation. “Yet, it will need a proper name sooner or later.”

Lucan shrugged. “Perhaps we will think of something when it is time.” He paused, glancing at her with the side of his eye before looking ahead and saying, “Would you wish to accompany me?”

Lilian’s steps came to a halt, and she stood there looking at him. “Accompany you?”

“Yes,” Lucan said, coming to a stop as well. “To the assembly. You could listen to what is said and give me your counsel.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” he said. “I cannot present you to my peers since we are not yet wed.” Another reason we ought to get that matter done with, he thought. “But you may still be present. It’s Lord Arden’s court, and I doubt he will object if I request it.”

“I–I…” she seemed lost for words for a moment before she nodded with a smile in which he recognized the gratitude. “It would be my privilege.”

“Good. And you’ve already given me your first counsel on this matter. I have already thought of a name for the alliance.” He grinned.