Druid's Bane Read online

  Faith snickered and pinned them both with an irritable scowl. “She doesn’t need flattery! She needs to concentrate! And whether she has seen a shield wall or not is irrelevant.”

  “You can hardly accuse me of flattery, Milady,” Ambry replied, his tone growing impatient. “Our king would not have agreed to this if his daughter did not possess sufficient skill to hold her own in the ring of a commoner’s tournament. Our royal lady is merely anxious, which is natural enough with the Illandian tourney so close and this being her first time in competition. All I am saying is that even those with years of experience feel the waiting as keenly. She needs to know as much.”

  Faith laughed snidely at the knight’s comments and stepped out of the shade of the trees and walked to the center of the circle of crushed grass to retrieve her sword which was stuck point first into the ground. “Do you think you help her by saying this?”

  “I speak the truth, Milady, based on years of experience.”

  “I said stop it. Both of you,” Danielle said. She had endured these sorts of arguments between her father’s sword master and her friend for months and she was thoroughly tied of them. Besides, none of this was helping restore her confidence. In truth she suspected the heat of the midday sun was getting to all of them. It was exceptionally hot for mid-spring.

  Faith ignored Danielle’s demand or didn’t hear it for she thrust a finger at her saying to the knight, “The truth is exactly as I said, she is letting a certain person distract her and if she does not remedy that he’ll do a great deal worse than I have done this morning if they meet in the tourney. Which I probably shouldn’t worry about, because the way she is fighting today, she won’t make it past the first bout.”

  Danielle gaped at her friend, appalled by the comment and the disloyalty it engendered! The training this morning had gone poorly, that she would not argue with, and yes she deserved a dressing-down and the bruises, but it had not been as bad as all that.

  Ambry had his heckles up and replied, “The prince is skilled in the art of fabrication. His art with sword is showmanship and bullying as you well know. He has weaknesses and our lady is well skilled to exploit them. You have said so yourself numerous times.”

  Faith scoffed, saying; “Yet he is the champion of the Illandian and the Pelorus Tournament.”

  “Faith, stop this …”

  Danielle tried to intervene, but Ambry got in first saying, “Commoner’s tournaments! And with all due respect, Milady, real knights, sworn knights, do not compete in such affairs, so the title of champion is somewhat misplaced. He would be sorely punished in a knights tourney.”

  “Ambry, enough!”

  This time Faith interrupted before Dee could say more.

  “I’m sure the Surlemian swordsman Lord Kane de Brie killed in the Pelorus tourney last month will be greatly relieved to hear as much.”

  The knight went to reply but Danielle silenced him. “Thank you, Ambry! That will be enough!” she said, glowering at him and then at Faith, who looked at her sullenly, shook her head and walked away to the other side of the training circle, pulling off her gloves as she went.

  “Milady …” Ambry began in a calmer tone.

  Danielle pushed her blond tresses off her face and raised her eyebrows at him.

  The old knight’s mouth twitched at her displeasure and he held his tongue. Then he took a calming breath and nodded respectfully. “I apologize, to both of you. I spoke out of turn. I think it might be the heat.”

  “You did. Now please return to your ease, I have another two bouts to fight before we return to the palace and I’d like to get on with them.”

  Faith snickered again. “You can forget that. You will not be fighting again today.”

  Danielle frowned at her. “What are you talking about? You said this sort of training was essential with the tourney so close?”

  Faith ignored her as she unbuckled her chainmail shirt at the collar and walked over to where her mare was tethered to a tree in the shade.

  Ambry said, “I think Lady Galloway is wise to call an early end to this morning’s training for it is doing you no good, milady.”

  “Absolutely not,” Danielle retorted before looking back at her friend who was now unbuckling the belt that held her now scabbard training sword. Faith put the belt and leather scabbard weapon over the pommel of her saddle and slipped her real sword belt around her waist and buckled it up.

  Faith’s agitation was obvious and Danielle was determined to find out what was upsetting her. “Sir Ambry, if I might have a word alone with my friend? Perhaps you could take your men down to the river and give us some privacy? Please?”

  “Of course.” Ambry glanced back and forth between Dee and Faith, clearly unsure what was going on, but thinking it best not to ask, and then backed up and gave the order to his men to depart. As he took the reins to his horse, his men climbing into their saddles around him, he said, “Milady, please stay in sight. Your father would not be pleased if it were otherwise.”

  Danielle said they would and waited as the knights moved off at a trot through the undergrowth. Once it was safe to talk openly she returned her blade to its leather scabbard belted at her hip and crossed the clearing. “So what’s wrong?”

  Faith was rummaging in the saddlebag. “Take a seat.” Looking glum, she nodded to the fallen tree trunk some of the knights had been sitting on in the shade of the trees.

  “Is it Michael?” Danielle asked.

  Faith shook her head.

  Well aware her friend would not say more until she was ready, Danielle collected the waterskin from where it was hanging from the tree and went over to the mossy log and sat down.

  She was grateful for the shade and the gentle, cooling breeze whispering through the woods. She gazed off between the trees at the Illandian River where her knights had dismounted and were securing their horses and then closed her eyes, her own trouble thoughts getting the better of her again.

  It frustrated and angered her that merely thinking of her loathsome twin brother could affect her sword work so thoroughly. Bloody Kane. He had always been a world of trouble to her. And to Arkaelyon.

  Danielle took one more sip from her water skin and jammed the cork back in. She had been trying not to think about her twin brother, but it had become increasingly difficult of late. It did not help that the city was a hum with excited speculation about the tournament. In many quarters it was being billed by peasant and noble alike as a grudge match for what Lord Kane had done to his fair sister at last year’s midwinter banquet. And as always when Kane and her were involved the event was being politicized and the peasantry was rallying to her reformist banner and the nobles and church to Kane as the bastion of the conservative order. The pressure wasn’t easily put off.

  Then there was the constant reminder of the frightful incident that had been the last straw in their acrimonious relationship, and which had convinced her that this path was necessary. It was always at the back of her mind, eating at her confidence, and with the tourney to begin within the month that gnawing had been causing her sleepless nights again and distracting her thoughts more than ever.

  Kane had challenged her to a mock duel during the last evening of the mid-winter festival. A pleasant diversion for our father’s guests, he had said late in the evening, his speech slurred by wine. And of course a lesson on why women should not be permitted to learn the art of the sword, he had added for the amusement of their peers. The laughter had pricked her pride and she had promptly accepted. The look of surprise on his face had been more than gratifying.

  Even then as she had glared across the table at him she’d never dreamed the contest would turn into a violent altercation that would leave her blooded and fearing for her life. The image of Kane being dragged off her, cursing and struggling against Sir Jeffery and Sir Thomas’ iron grip; the hatred in his eyes, the bloodied cut she dealt to his cheek with a lucky blow and her blood on his fists, haunted her still and she was loath that it should. H
er soul burned to be free of the hold he now had over her—had always had over her. And that meant getting back into the ring and bettering him at his own game. It was the only way to deal with a bully.

  But could she actually do this? Could she better him? Two months ago she would have said yes. Now, she had her doubts and they were growing by the day. But to withdraw was unthinkable; that would only strengthen Kane’s hold over her and worse, all that he represented to the realm.

  “Dee,” Faith called, as she approached, her boots swishing through the long grass.

  Danielle glanced over her shoulder just in time to catch an apple her friend tossed to her.

  “You need to drink some more water as well,” Faith said as she sat down on the log beside her. Her troubled frown made Danielle nervous, and hoping to quell her friend’s concerns, she said, “Sir Ambry’s right, I’m just anxious and being impatient because of it. Once I have a few matches under my belt all will be well again. It’s not as if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. You were also right. I admit it freely; I should have entered the private tourney in Amthenium last month to build a little more experience.”

  Faith didn’t look pleased as she bit into her apple.

  When it became clear no reply was going to be given, Danielle said, “You think otherwise?”

  “You cannot afford to lose, that’s what I think.”

  Danielle laughed, not sure where this was going. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you have the skill to challenge your brother, at least when you’re in the mood. But fear will get you hurt as easily as poor skill.”

  “I’m nervous, for Vellum’s sake, nothing more. Don’t make this into something it is not. I can thrash him, Faith, at least with agility and endurance, and I am going to beat him. He’s a bully and a coward and I will not live in fear of him another day. I can’t. And I don’t need to tell you what his defeat will mean for Arkaelyon and Corenbald politically!”

  Faith tossed her apple away after several bites and settled a troubled gaze on her.

  “What?” Danielle demanded.

  “Your father spoke to me shortly after my arrival last night. He wants to know if you are ready. I’m to give him my answer after noon-prayers today.”

  “Then you’ll tell him the truth, his daughter is ready.”

  “I wish I could. But I can’t. Because you’re not anything of the sort, not after what I’ve seen over the course of my last three visits.”

  Danielle couldn’t believe this. “So you plan to betray me. After all the work we have done? Without even discussing it?”

  “What else can I do? You have regressed terribly over the last three weeks, and today has proved even more disappointing. And don’t give me that look, you knew this might happen; your father made that clear when he agreed to let you compete. It was always conditional.”

  “I’m ready!” Danielle got up in a huff and walked away a few steps. She wanted to scream she was so angry. She wheeled back round, saying, “Then why did you bother at all! For clearly I was never going to be good enough if the fact that I am a little scared is sufficient for you to deny me this. Gods, Faith, you have stood in a shield wall as Corenbald’s First Sword, you know what I’m feeling is natural enough!”

  “What I know, Danielle is that there are two types of fear. The first sharpens a soldier’s wits … it keeps her alive. The second will get her killed as easily as poor skill.”

  “It’s a tourney, for goodness sake and a commoner’s tourney at that. I will be armored. The swords are blunt. You cannot do this, Faith. You know how important it is that the world sees that men like my brother should not be feared! You cannot deny me this. I have to face him!”

  “And there’s the other problem,” Faith said, getting to her feet. “Your temper.”

  Danielle drew up, baffled. “I have worked on it tirelessly. You said yourself, not three weeks ago, that you were pleased with the amount of control I was showing …” Danielle stopped and shook her head, for what was the point in arguing; the resolve on her friend’s face made it clear the decision was final. The realization sent a dreadful ache sweeping through her and fighting back tears, she turned and gazed unseeing out at the river.

  To be denied the opportunity to face her brother with the tourney barely three weeks away was too much to bear.

  “I think we should be going.” Faith picked up the water skin and walked off towards their horses. She untethered her mare, slipped a boot into a stirrup and swung her slight frame up onto the saddle. As she did, she said, “I’ll suggest to your father that he consider letting you compete next year. More training will see you ready, I’m sure. And you know I’ll continue with that task. There will be more opportunity when Michael and I are married. Dee, this is as much my failing as yours and I am sorry.”

  Danielle said nothing. She was too angry and would only say something she would inevitably regret.

  Faith gave a sharp whistle, which, after a short delay, brought her large mountain wolf crashing through the undergrowth and padding into the clearing.

  Black’s muddy paws, lolling tongue and briskly swaying tail suggested that he at least had enjoyed the morning roaming the royal woods. It was more than Danielle could say. Ignoring her friend’s sympathetic gaze she crouched and petted the wolf’s head.

  “Dee, don’t be like this. It’s the right thing to do and you know it. Better to withdraw than risk Kane humiliating you in front of all Illandia. Now call your guards and let’s be going.”

  The right thing to do!

  Struggling to contain herself, Danielle stood and walked over to her horse. “So you’re going to help me are you?” she said briskly.

  “You know I will.”

  “Really?” Danielle swung up onto her mount, glaring at her friend. “What did you and my Father really discuss last evening?”

  “What in Vellum’s name is that supposed to mean?”

  Danielle was tying up her damp bedraggled tresses. “I suspect the truth of the matter is, you and he have lost your nerve. Eden got to you didn’t he.” Her older brother had been opposed to her competing even in a commoner’s tournament from the beginning and unlike some who preferred to complain in private; Eden had been very public in his opposition and she knew he’d been writing Faith a continual stream of letters while he was away in Vafusolum. “Or is it that you’re hoping that Kane loses his title in a few weeks so there’ll be no need for me to compete at all?”

  “You honestly think I would do that to you?”

  Danielle drew her horse round and stopped beside her friend. “I don’t know?”

  Faith shook her head and looked away, her jaw clamped shut.

  Fear. That’s what Danielle saw there. There was nothing more to be said so she smiled mirthlessly and kicked her horse forward.

  “I’m doing this for your own good,” Faith said to her back. “You might think you’re ready, but you’re not.”

  Danielle couldn’t let that go unchallenged and she drew her horse round and trotted back. “Two months ago you told my father I was ready …”

  “Two months ago you were.”

  Black barked and his mistress told him to shut up.

  “Then I can be so again, can’t I! That’s if you have the nerve and will to help, which you clearly do not. And you’re the only one here who lacks either. So please do not tell me this is for my own good,” she said calmly.

  Faith shook her head again and urged her horse forward, calling Black to follow. She didn’t look back as she rode down the wooded track that returned along the riverbank to Illandia’s wharf district some miles on. Soon there was only the distant thump of hooves, and even they faded quickly leaving Danielle alone in the dappled shade and quiet of the woods.

  She groaned and closed her eyes, hating the tears forming there. She was still struggling to come to grips with what had just happened and she knew it was unfair to blame Faith. Then there was the thought of what would be said when
news of this began to circulate around court and beyond. Kane would never let her live it down and the nobles and Archbishop would share his sentiment. Her propensity to stray from her ‘allotted station’ as a King’s daughter had always been a matter of concern to them, and more so since her admission as a member of Arkaelyon’s councils. Yet for all that, it was the disappointment the common folk would feel that hurt the most. They understood the politics of the tournament well enough. They knew what it meant for the king’s daughter to face her twin brother with steel, even if it was blunted and the meeting was in a commoner’s tournament. But there was nothing to be done about it now.

  She wiped at her tears and composed herself sufficiently to bear company again before wheeling her horse towards the riverbank. If another year’s training was the price she had to pay, then pay it she would—however much the thought wearied her.

  Danielle had barely covered a few yards when Faith came riding back between the trees. The muffled thump of hooves on soft earth and leaves grew louder as her horse cantered up the track. Faith’s dark hair bounced on her shoulders, and as she drew near it was obvious her mood of before had not altered one whit.

  “I think you’ve made your point clear,” Danielle said, drawing her horse up and holding her friend’s angry glare.

  Faith reached out and grabbed Danielle’s reins, saying, “This is the way it’s going to be. You have three weeks to show me that you can control your fear and anger, as you are capable. At the end of which, if I have the slightest doubt, your father will hear it, and that will be the end of this. And damn what it costs you and Arkaelyon. Because I am not going to let you enter the tourney ring so your brother can beat you bloody like he did last mid-winter’s day. You understand?”

  Pleasantly surprised and enormously relieved at her friend’s about-face, Danielle bit her lip to stop from smiling and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. It is merely a reprieve.”

  “I understand.” Reprieve or not she intended to grab it with both hands. “How about we get an hour of practice in this afternoon? Just us. We can use a sparring gallery in the Swordmaster’s hall. It’s private enough. Possibly get another practice in tomorrow at dawn as well? And I say we double the practice sessions we had planned during the Grand Assembly. Perhaps even challenge Lord Taylor and his friends to a mock tourney on the last day of the meeting? I’m sure the delegations will enjoy the entertainment and you can twist your uncle’s arm to make it happen?”