Mercy's Prince (5 page)

Caelis
almost pitied King Orland. Of course, the king wanted a son of his own body to
succeed him, especially since his own brother and the brother’s only son were
dull-witted, even less fit to rule than Valerian. Such a great shame, for
Orland once had the perfect heir, but now everything had changed. Caelis smiled
at the pleasure he anticipated in demonstrating to the king and everyone else
his superiority over Waryn’s pathetic brother. He was certain Orland would make
the right decision for the future of Levathia, and choose Caelis to be the next
crown prince.

Mercy
stood helplessly watching while the men of the village were led away by the
soldiers on horseback. Michael glanced back once, but Papa didn’t.

“Where’s
Papa going?” Rafael gripped her hand. Fear darkened his eyes. Mercy had never
seen her brother afraid of anything before.

“The
soldiers want to talk to Papa and the other men.” She forced a smile, trying to
reassure Rafael. “I’m sure they will come home soon.” But she didn’t truly
believe that, and apparently she wasn’t the only one. Many women and young
girls wept openly. Mercy startled when a hand pressed her shoulder. It was her
Aunt Prudence, Michael’s mother.

“We
should meet to decide what to do.” Aunt Prudence’s frown made Mercy wonder if
she’d done something to offend her mother’s only sister. The thin woman’s
perpetual sour expression was such a contrast to the kindness Mercy remembered
of her mother.

“Decide
to do what?” Mercy could think of nothing other than the king’s probable
reaction to Gabriel’s convictions.

“Is
your head in the clouds, girl? Only the Most High knows when the men will
return. Until they do, there is work to be done. That means we who remain will
have to add their jobs to our own.”

Sister
Providence hobbled forward, leaning on her cane.

“Sister
Prudence,” she said, “our Sister Mercy is not yet the wife of the village
leader. There is no need for such harsh words.”

Though
her aunt’s words pained her, Mercy had long ago built a wall around her heart
to protect herself from them, and Papa’s too. From here in this protected place
Mercy could focus on doing her duty, and she now turned her thoughts to the
village. What were the men’s peculiar tasks in early autumn? Farming?
Fortunately the grain had been harvested. Shearing the sheep? That would not
happen again until the spring. Woodworking? Smithing? Perhaps that could wait,
too.

“Aunt
Prudence,” she said, projecting more confidence than she had. “The only men’s
task I can think of that might have to be divided among us is gatekeeper. The
rest has either been done or can wait until the men return.”

Several
others had gathered around. Some nodded. Most had ceased their crying. Mercy
sensed all their stares upon her, desperate for someone to lead them, to
reassure them in this sudden loss of their menfolk. She trembled when she
realized the women were looking to
her
for leadership. How could that
be? Though her father was the Healer and her future husband the village leader,
she was one of the youngest present.

“Joel’s
daughter speaks the truth,” said Sister Glory, the eldest of the village. “We
each have our own work to do. It will pass the time while we wait. Since I
still remember how to write, I shall prepare a schedule for keeping the gate so
it does not become a burden for any one of us.”

“I
volunteer to take the first watch.” Serene stepped forward and smiled at Mercy.

Sister
Providence broke into a toothless grin and struck the ground with her cane.

“Then
hop to it, girl! The gates are standing wide open to the world!”

With
a giggle, Mercy’s friend lifted her skirts and dashed to the gate, closed it,
and struggled to lift the wooden bar into place. Mercy hurried to help her, and
Rafael tagged along. Together Mercy and Serene managed to bar the gate.

“Well,
that will make it difficult for anyone who wants to slip out unnoticed,” said
Serene. “It’s heavier than it looks.”

Mercy
studied her friend, puzzled at her words.

“Why
would anyone want to ‘slip out unnoticed,’ as you say? Where would they go?”
Even though she had so recently spent an uncomfortable hour hunched over in the
pillory for doing just that, Mercy couldn’t imagine Serene disobeying any of
the village’s many rules.

“Forget
I said anything.” Serene’s face colored. “You’re right; we have nowhere to go.
We’re trapped.”

Before
Mercy could reply, Serene turned away.

“You’d
best get back to your chores, Mercy, and let me keep the gate, for all the good
it will do.”

Mercy
sighed and reached for her brother’s hand.

“Let’s
go, Rafael.” Still subdued, he didn’t protest.

While
Mercy walked back to their cottage, she pondered Serene’s strange words. Did
Serene really feel trapped? If so, would she do something about it? A new sense
of dread chilled Mercy, more than just fear for the safety of the men. What
would happen if, once the men did return and Mercy was married to Gabriel, he
were to See her deepest thoughts? How could she keep Michael’s and now Serene’s
careless words from Gabriel? Would she be able to have any secrets ever again?

***

In
the Keep’s archery yard, all the people who’d once ignored him scrutinized
Valerian’s every action. His back burned from all the eyes watching him. He sighted
the arrow, prepared to let it fly.

Please,
Most High, let it hit the target at least
.

He
set himself as the archery master suggested and released the arrow. It sped to
the target, embedded at the lower edge of the bull’s eye.

“Well
done, Sire,” said Kieran with a grin.

Valerian
smiled at his new squire’s enthusiasm. Was there anything that could dampen it?

He
glanced toward the entrance to the Keep in time to see Sir Caelis approaching,
followed by Drew and a small group of lords and ladies. Having such an audience
without Caelis would be enough to discomfit him. How could he continue now?
Kieran lowered his voice so only Valerian could hear.

“Dinna
let him bother you, Sire.” He took an arrow from the standing quiver. “Here,
try another.”

Valerian
took the arrow from Kieran and nocked it to the bowstring. But he hesitated for
an instant too long.

“Squire,”
Caelis said. “My bow.”

The
sound of the knight’s voice and his menacing presence never failed to fill
Valerian with dread, as well as reopen old, unpleasant memories. He forgot to
set his arm properly before the arrow left his fingers and missed the target
completely. One of the approaching women giggled.

“Pardon
me, Your Highness, if I disturbed your concentration.” Caelis smirked and held
out his gloved hand.

Valerian
stood immobile while Caelis took the bow and arrow from Drew, pulled back, and
after scarcely aiming, released the arrow. It hit the bull’s eye with a
resounding thump. Sighs and polite applause came from the ladies.

With
all the target butts in the archery yard, why must Caelis pick
this
one?

Of
course, Valerian knew the answer. A sickening image arose, unbidden, in his
mind. Ten years were not enough time to banish it: Caelis holding up an infant
burrowing dragon, not much larger than a small lizard, that he had impaled with
an arrow. While Waryn held Valerian’s head to make sure he didn’t turn away,
Caelis bit off the head of the struggling reptile and spat it in Valerian’s
face.

It
took all of Valerian’s self-control not to run away from the archery yard. He
had to find a way to change his reaction to the knight, since there was no way
to change Caelis. Bracing himself, Valerian held out his trembling hand for
another arrow. Before Kieran handed one to him, Caelis drew back with practiced
ease and sent a second arrow into the bull’s eye.

While
the ladies clapped and cooed, Caelis sneered at Valerian and took a third arrow
from Drew. Since Valerian was watching Caelis instead of Kieran’s hand, his own
arrow slipped through his fingers to the dirt. Valerian’s face grew hot. Kieran
bent down to pick up the arrow while Caelis’ smacked into the bull’s eye.

When
Kieran offered the arrow, he caught Valerian’s eye and gave a slight nod.
Valerian didn’t need to use his Sight to understand Kieran wanted him to shoot
again. He studied the target. Caelis had evenly placed three arrows around the
center of the bull’s eye.

Filling
his lungs, Valerian closed his eyes for a moment. He shut out everything around
him and honed in on the new target Caelis had made, imagined
his
arrow
imbedded there. His eyes flew open; he pulled back the string and released it.
The arrow smacked into the target in the middle of Caelis’ three.

Kieran
met Valerian’s gaze again with a satisfied smile. The ladies and even the lords
applauded. Valerian could scarcely believe what he’d done and waited for a
snide remark from Caelis. Kieran didn’t give the knight an opportunity.

“Come
now, Sire.” Kieran held out a hand for Valerian’s bow. “Let Sir Caelis continue
with the target, and we shall practice with quarterstaffs across the yard.”

With
a glance that revealed a scowl from Caelis and a furtive smile from Drew,
Valerian allowed Kieran to lead him away from the archery range.

“Did
I really make that shot, Kieran?” Valerian kept his voice low. “Or was it a
dream?”

“O’
course ye made the shot, Your Highness,” the squire said, laughing. “You dinna
give yourself enough credit.”

Upon
reaching the quarterstaff practice ring, Valerian took a deep breath and let it
out slowly. Now was not the time for fear and doubt. Now was the time for
courage and surety of purpose.

It
wasn’t too late for him to learn courage, was it?

***

Caelis
clenched his jaw to keep from saying any unkind remark about Valerian’s lucky
shot. He would best the whelp honestly, and he needed to stay focused on that
goal. He held out his gloved hand for another arrow, which Drew promptly gave
him.

Calmly
but with purpose Caelis placed the arrow, drew back, and sent the arrow with
the force of his will. It hit the target precisely alongside Valerian’s so that
they appeared to be one arrow. Caelis only wished it were possible to split the
offending shaft.

Remembering
his audience, Caelis turned and bowed graciously before handing the bow to
Drew. Leading his entourage, he then strolled toward the javelin targets
attached to a wooden beam jutting out from the ramparts of the curtain wall.
Caelis and Waryn had spent much time practicing here, imagining the bull’s eye
to be on the head of a great dragon. Indeed, the highly placed targets must
have been originally designed to train men for dragon fighting. What a thrill
that would have been!

After
his first throw hit the edge of the target, Caelis placed the next three
squarely in the bull’s eye, to the delight of the growing crowd of ladies.
While he decided whether or not to head to the quarterstaff field, he overheard
one of the women.

“It’s
such a shame about Prince Waryn,” she said. “I was so looking forward to his
marriage to Lady Hanalah. She would have been a delightful addition to our
company.”

Grief
lanced Caelis’ heart at the casual mention of his lost friend, but he clenched
his fists to control himself. He wanted nothing more than to lash out at this
self-important lady and remind her that Waryn’s death was a tragedy in so many
ways. Instead he merely glared at her plump, painted face beneath her colorful
headdress until she glanced his way. Her eyes widened, and she inclined her
head.

Pivoting
on his heel, Caelis strode toward the quintains set up at the far end of the
castle yard. He snapped his fingers, and Drew appeared beside him.

“Yes,
sir?”

“Bring
my horse. I wish to break a few lances on the quintain.”

“Right
away, sir.” Drew raced to the stables, and Caelis had to admire the youth’s
speed.

He
made himself slow his pace so he would not lose his followers. They were vital
to his plan to help the king see the obvious difference between Caelis and
Valerian.

While
the ladies approached like a chattering flock of birds, Caelis smiled at the
notion of his cousin, the beautiful, sensuous Hanalah, being a “delightful”
addition to their company. Foolish women! Hanalah had only wanted to marry the
crown prince for the power and prestige it would have given their family. Oh,
she would have been happy to provide a royal heir or two, but she and Waryn
would not have let marriage stop them from their respective pleasures.

Then
Caelis laughed as another thought entered his mind. What if the king decided to
treat for Hanalah’s marriage to Valerian? The thought of his flirtatious cousin
with the monk lifted his mood, and he was able to complete the afternoon’s
performance with unaffected graciousness, to the delight of all the ladies.