Page 2 of Lord of the Castle
Do you think he's lost?
It's a she. Don't you see? The petite angles of her face are too delicate for a man.
Oh. I assumed covered in mail and armor like that. She'd an odd one then, isn't she? Few women want to fight.
Maybe she has magic? But judge not, we know nothing about her yet.
Not yet, but soon all shall be revealed.
I whirled around but saw no one. Eyes wide, I set off running toward the dark castle.
Chapter Two
The black castleloomed above me, its peaks and towers displayed like the jagged teeth of a wild bear. My bravery descended into trepidation. The wind twisted through the treetops, moaning like an old woman shivering in the cold. I glanced back at the track which was quickly fading from view as the sky darkened. There was no hope for me down there, so I turned my gaze to the door.
It was arched and high, a solid block of impenetrable wood. An ornate knocker carved into the shape of a lion, hung in the middle of the doorframe. I knocked. Three loud raps echoed into nothingness.
The castle was silent. Unease made the hair on my neck stand up straight. I considered whether this all was a joke. It was easy to envision myself eaten by wild creatures and left for dead. Just as my hysteria mounted, the door opened with a bang.
I jumped, and a squeak almost escaped my throat. Two figures stood before me. One was a man, tall and as thin as a pole, with a sharp nose and sallow cheeks. His mouth was turned down in a permanent frown, and he wore a black suit with a white shirt underneath. When he saw me, his frowned deepened, and he turned to the side, holding the door open as though he’d rather shut it.
The other figure was a woman, old enough to be my mother, but she was short and plump with rosy cheeks, an ample chest, and a wide bottom. Her white hair was pulled up in a bun, and her hand was over her heart, as though she were out of breath.
"Well, bless me," she wheezed, bright blue eyes staring at me in surprise. "What a bit of luck popped up on our doorstep this evening. Are you lost?"
Her accent was thick, but she was warm and friendly in a way that made me feel as though I had an ally. But I quickly chided myself. I wasn't allowed to have allies. The only person I could count on was myself.
"Not lost," I breathed, relieved to talk to someone who wasn't hostile. My fingers fumbled for the paper I’d been given with my orders. "Is this the castle of Lord Cedric?"
"Aye, tis his castle," the woman bumbled, her eyes widening as I handed her the letter. She didn't open it but gawked at the red seal as though it would bite her. "Blessed be. They sentyou?" Now she stared at me, mouth flapping like a fish out of water, and then… "Well come in, come in. It's just that we were expecting a man. I did not even know there were woman warriors."
There it was. The stigma. I stiffened and tucked my helmet more securely under my arm. "Will it be a problem?"
My eyes went to the thin man, but he stared straight ahead, ignoring me.
"No. No problem." The plump woman's kindly voice returned. "In fact, you must be famished. I'll whip up a pot of tea and fetch the master. Julius, here will show you to the study.”
The woman handed the letter to Julius who took it from her hands, holding it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger as though it were a snake that might bite him. I stuck my tongue in my cheek to keep a sarcastic remark from flying from my lips.
Even though I did not want to be here, in this grim castle, I needed to be on my best behavior. Now I knew there would be witnesses, others who lived in the castle who could gossip about my disappearance if I killed their Lord and ran. I needed to win them over, and when the time came, I would leave, none the worse for my unlucky adventure.
The castle was cold, and the scent of dank water hung in the air, damp and moist. My boots echoed on the stones as we walked, although Julius’ shoes must have been made of skins, for they made no sound at all. I pricked my ears, listening for the whispering voices I'd heard on my way in, but there was none of that either.
The hall was not well lit, and I gazed at the arching stones, taking in what I could see in the poor light. The short hallway opened into a wide space, a gathering place of sorts that reminded me of the King's court. A grand staircase rose several feet in front of me, broad slabs of white marble and a golden balustrade leading up into the castle. Passageways branched off, winding into various halls, and I imagined more rooms and staircases beyond it. My eyes went wide. The castle must be immense, and I hadn't seen the half of it in the shadows of sunset.
Julius cleared his throat, and I realized I'd slowed to a halt, staring at the glory in front of me. Quickly, I ducked my head, squared my shoulders and fell in line behind him, a proper solider once again. He moved to the left and led to me a room where yellow flames cast shadows against the high walls.
It was a large yet homey room with rich rugs carpeting the floor. Two deep, comfortable chairs next to a roaring fireplace took up most of one wall. Gray stones created its elaborate design. Warmth flooded me, and the chill from my walk faded away. For the first time since entering the castle, I was embarrassed with my lack of poise and grace. I glanced down at the carpet. My boots were muddy, but if Julius had qualms, he said nothing.
He pointed to one of the chairs. There was a small table between them, the ideal setting for tea—as all rich lords and ladies had throughout the day. A thick book lay open on the table. Someone must’ve been reading then had abruptly left.
"Have a seat," the butler said coldly. "Your bags will be taken to your room." He glared down at disapproval at my one bag. "The lord of the castle will be with you shortly."
I opened my mouth, but words would not come out. Instead, I sat. My bag dropped to the carpeted floor where the butler snatched it up, held it between two fingers with disgust, and marched out of the room.
Left alone, I continued to study my surroundings, but there wasn’t much else to see. The room was simple with two enormous windows looking out on what might be a garden. I could not tell, for the sky had darkened completely, leaving the roaring fire the only light in the room. The scent of pine hung in the air, but not didn’t overpower me. It reminded me I was in a home—a place I hadn’t been fortunate enough to have.
Memories rose. The smell of booze, the coarse laughter and shrieking of ladies. My mother was a whore, and I was born in a brothel—one of the many accidental births there—and yet, they did not get rid of me. Although the memories of my mother were faint, they were happy. She always squeezed me tight and whispered lullabies, soothing me amid the noise and chaos of the guests coming and going.
