Awakening (The Guardari Chronicles Book 1) Page 6

  “What an idiot,” she heard them whisper.

  “Definitely. That dolt doesn’t know the first thing about swordplay.”

  “The young lady doesn’t look very impressed either.”

  “She would have him on his backside in no time at all.”

  Her acute hearing was sometimes a good thing, and the compliments the two mature guards gave her caused a genuine small smile. Of course, Edrin chose that moment to look in her direction after what he probably thought was a good move. She hadn’t even paid enough attention to him to know when he pulled out the sword.

  And his over inflated ego was once again the bane of her existence. “You look pleased, my lady. Swordplay is a fine art, wouldn’t you say? It takes strength and skill to make it work, you know.”

  “You look very strong, my lord,” she replied back to him and adopted once more that vacant adoring stare. She worried it might become permanent if she had to do it for longer than a few days.

  She continued to watch her suitor when a strange sound caught her attention -- the scrape of leather on stone, which sounded light and quick. So quick in fact that she thought perhaps she was hearing things, but the longer she waited, listening, the more on edge she became. Gooseflesh raised upon her arms, and her hearing grew more acute while letting background noise fade away.

  Just as she was about to dismiss it, the sound came again, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. No one would bother to try to remain quiet here. The sounds of heavy footsteps or ones that were light and quick as if running were rampant, and she had learned long ago to tune them out of her mind or else she would go mad. Even the slap of metal on stone, the jangling of chainmail, and creak of leathery scale mail were nothing to worry over. Even knowing that, she still felt on edge. Maybe it was nothing, just someone trying to sneak up on a lover or someone playing a game of hide and seek.

  Emmaline had been looking elsewhere, away from her bumbling idiotic suitor, and when she turned her gaze back to him, her eyes caught a dark figure standing behind the two guards across the garden. The glimmer of metal shone against the sun as he slashed at the unguarded back of one of the two guards.. She did the first thing that came to her as her heart leaped into her throat from terror.

  “NO!” She shrieked in abject fear and pointed toward the two guards. This accomplished a number of things, aside from being an outlet for her alarm. The two guards turned, weapons unsheathing as they did so, to face whatever their young Lady feared, and the one on the right gave a cry of pain as the metal bit into the gap in the side of his armor. The sudden sound of booted feet turning and pounding on the stone floors echoed from the hall. Edrin turned around as he was swinging again and with a cry of fright, he fell flat on his backside, scrambling away from the intruder, sword left forgotten.

  Emmaline held her breath as she sat frozen, waiting for the bloodshed that was poised to happen soon. However, strangely enough, the figure stood still as he was drawn upon by the injured guard with a sword grasped in a gloved hand shining wetly with fresh blood. Her stomach churned, but the injured guard held his place despite the darkening of his leather and cloth beneath. The cries of the reinforcements were behind her now, as was another voice -- that of her father. “Emmaline! What is it?” His frantic eyes met her terror filled ones, and as she tried to speak, her throat shut itself.

  “That!” Edrin supplied, voice still high pitched and hand shaking. It would have been utterly delightful had she any ability to feel anything other than shock.

  Her father turned his stormy gaze on the now surrounded intruder. Eight swords were nearly pressing into flesh, or perhaps more apt would be that they pressed into cloth. The figure was still deeply hooded but somehow, strangely he felt familiar to her. “What is the meaning of this?” Her father’s deep voice thundered across the small garden as he advanced on the attacker. “Why are you here?”

  The intruder stayed silent, despite her father’s now murderous gaze. “Bring him to the main chamber,” he commanded.

  “My Lord?” She recognized Uracen’s voice from amongst the assembled. “You are about to hold judgements. There are other citizens in now.”

  “Do it. Clear them out if needed, but he will be judged and sentenced now for daring to come here and threaten the safety of my family.”

  “Yes, my Lord.” He turned to the figure, who was now looking in her direction. She could feel his eyes on her. “Move.” Uracen ordered and dug the sword into the intruder’s back.

  At first the stranger seemed unwilling to move, but with another prod the figure was herded away from her with her father watching. “Get to a healer, Jens.” Her father ordered the bleeding man. “Emmaline.” His voice was softer now. “Take Jens to the healer, please.”

  “Why?” She asked him and her voice sounded strained. “Why was that person here?”

  “I’m going to find out. Don’t worry about it. I’ll always keep you safe, dove.” He bent down and embraced her tightly. “Always.” The last was whispered into her hair, and she nodded as he released her. He gave a hard stare to Edrin, still sprawled on the ground before he followed the guard.

  “Apologies, Edrin. I must be away now.”

  “Take me with you. I think I’ve injured myself,” he half whined to her as he stood.

  “As you wish.” Emmaline quickly made her way over to the guard who was leaning against the wall, bleeding onto the stone and taking deep, slow breaths.

  “Apologies, my Lady. You should not see us like this.”

  “Nonsense. Things happen, and I doubt you would volunteer for such an injury in the first place.”

  “We should have been more watchful,” Jens argued.

  “Yes, you should have,” Edrin spat from behind her, and she said a quick prayer to the Six that she wouldn’t punch him in the nose. Her heart was starting to calm down now.

  “Let’s go.” They started through the door to the main keep and down the halls to the healer’s room. The only sounds were those of the pained breaths of the injured guard, who refused her help in carrying him. When they reached the top of the stairs to the surgery, she felt the sudden need to go to the main hall. “Edrin, would you please assist him?”

  “Why should I--?”

  She chose not to hear him as she nearly ran down the hall. There was a servant’s entrance near the back of the room, and if she was quick, she could find out who it was that had come so very close to her with a weapon.

  She darted into the corridor after pressing the stone to unlock the entrance and shuffled through the half dark before finding the latch inside the wall and pulling it. The door swung open, and she found herself face to backside with a guard. The guard swung around, startled to find Emmaline. “My Lady! What are you doing here?”

  “Emmaline! You should be at the surgery.” Her mother’s voice came now, and she looked around the guard to find her father’s disapproving gaze and her mother’s worried one. “You don’t need to be here for this.”

  “No. Since she’s let her curiosity get the better of her again, bring her here. It seems to involve her.” Her father beckoned her closer, and her mother held her shoulders and directed her to the seat on her father’s left side, while taking her own place at his right.

  “Bring the prisoner forward,” Uracen commanded his guard from his post at her mother’s side.

  Two hands shoved the hooded prisoner forward and now his hands were bound behind his back. At least she was mostly sure it was male now. It was odd that they had not removed his hood. But perhaps it was magicked on by some wicked sorcery. “You were found, blade in hand, after having attacked a guard of my household in the presence of my only child. What have you to say for this?” Her father’s voice had gone back to his commanding one. The hood lifted slightly, and she heard a snort come from underneath it, but was sure that no one else had. “Are you from the Black Snakes?” She knew he was getting impatient now. “Who would dare set a bounty here?”

  The Black Snakes were an exper
t assassins’ group. They were very expensive, from what Telgrin had told her in previous lessons, and very very good. They wouldn’t have attacked in broad daylight with witnesses though. It would be idiotic and very unlike an assassins’ group, or so she thought. Surely her father would know that as well.

  “You r’ a fuul.” The thick accent was barely understandable, but the meaning came across well enough.

  “The only fool I see is before me. How dare you come into my home and threaten my most important treasure, my only child, days before her birthday.” His voice thundered in the small room, and he looked to one of the guards standing next to the dark figure. “I would see the face of the one whom I will sentence. Why was that hood not removed in the first place?”

  “Apologies, my lord.” The guard placed a hand on the hood, but the captive yanked his head away from them and tried to struggle away. He was quickly subdued by four of the guards who placed him on his knees before her family. The hood was ripped away, and quite suddenly, Emmaline’s vision was filled with a solid wall of white light. The only thing she could see was a pair of dark green eyes against the painful wash of nothingness. She heard a sudden scream and smelled burning wood while a sharp pain sliced across her right thigh before everything was suddenly and blissfully dark.

  Chapter 7

  Emmaline came to consciousness slowly and with a small sound of discomfort. She heard the shuffling of cloth and the creak of a wooden chair and opened her eyes in response. Her body was covered with warmth and cushioned in softness that was strangely familiar.

  “Emmaline. Sweetheart.” That was her mother’s voice. Why would her mother be in her room while she was sleeping?

  She opened her eyes and looked around the room. It was dimmer than she remembered. “Mama? What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, thank the Six.” Her mother looked odd now that Emmaline was getting a good look at her. For once, her mother looked like a real person instead of a doll. Her blonde hair was sticking up in odd ends, the bun was loose on her head, her rouge and eyepaint were smudged, her dress rumpled in odd places, and her eyes had the beginnings of dark circles beneath them. Something was very wrong.

  “Mama?”

  “When you fell, we thought the worst. That wicked man just looked at you and you at him, and then you stiffened and collapsed onto the ground, positively lifeless.”

  It was then that she remembered the green eyes and pain lanced through her head just behind her eyes. She lifted a hand to her temples to relieve the pressure there. “I saw green eyes, like evergreen pines, and I smelled smoke and heard screams.” She spoke slowly and looked over at her mother, who only looked more worried than she had moments ago.

  Her mother continued, “Your father was incensed. We thought he had bewitched you with his elf magic, and I had to stop him from killing the prisoner. What if he had spelled you with some curse? He would be the only one to break it.”

  “An elf?” Her curiosity was peaked now, pain forgotten for the moment. “There was an elf here? But the elves are all gone.”

  “Look at you, bright eyed at the prospect of something interesting. He nearly killed you. That should not be exciting,” her mother chided her.

  “But I’m fine. What did you do with the elf?”

  “He’s to be transported to the capital, like any murderer would be. Despite the fact that he didn’t actually murder anyone. You know, it was the oddest thing now that I really think about it. He was quite clearly accomplished from the way he dealt with that poor guard, and I’m quite sure he could have killed poor Jens but he didn’t. And when you fell, he looked just as shocked as we were, not only shocked but distraught or something of the like. As if he was upset that you were injured. Isn’t that preposterous?”

  “It is odd.” Emmaline would normally ask more questions but her belly rumbled uncomfortably and distracted her from doing so. Instead, she pushed her blankets off of her body and sat up slowly.

  Her mother placed a hand at her back to assist Emmaline with the effort and once she was upright, her mother enveloped her in a tight hug. “It’s been hours since it happened. You’ve been asleep for nearly sixteen.”

  “Sixteen hours? Have you been here the whole time?” Her tone was incredulous at the idea that a whole entire day had passed her by, or most of it, anyway.

  “Your father and I. Telgrin even came to see you. And the healer, useless man, said he could not find a cause for your sleep.”

  “He isn’t useless, mama. What did you tell everyone? Why would an elf come here? No one’s seen an elf or even heard anything about them for years. And why would an elf care about coming here and if he injured me?” Despite her apparent injury of sorts, her questions came like they always had. Quickly.

  “We told them that you were ill and needed rest. And you still do. As for the rest of it, I hoped that we could get an answer from the elf, but he’s been stubborn.”

  Oddly, the thought of the prisoner in pain caused her stomach to flip. “They hurt him?”

  “They have only withheld food thus far. The guard may have roughed him up. I’m not quite sure. He deserves something for having hurt you.” Her mother’s tone turned biting and fierce near the end. That in itself surprised her.

  The wheels of her mind had started turning and a sudden thought intruded on her musings. “If I’ve been asleep for sixteen hours, that must mean that today is my party.” She couldn’t hide her sullen tone.

  “Quite so. And I hate to ask you to get up and start preparations but...”

  “It’s alright, mama. I feel fine now. Well rested.”

  Her mother raised a hand to cuff her lightly on the ear, which tingled at the touch. “You are not amusing, little girl. Your father and I had years scared out of us. He’s been incensed. In fact, I’m sure if he comes in here, he’s going to kill you by suffocating you.”

  “Has anyone else come to the city?”

  “The rest of the guests came early this morning. I was not there to greet them, but your father was. I can only imagine that went over well.”

  “Daddy isn’t the most tactful sometimes.”

  “You have no idea. Are you sure you aren’t feeling ill at all? Lightheaded? Dizzy? Sick?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Nothing. Just hungry.”

  Her mother stood and brought her hands up to her hair, pulling it out of the bun it was in and letting the locks cascade down her shoulders. She ran her hands back through the locks, pulling her hair back into a less messy bun and then smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress as best she could. “I have to get back. But I will call in a maid to draw you a bath and I will be back after I freshen up as well to start your fitting for your dress. The seamstress will have to work double time to get any alterations done before the dance tonight.” Her mother rested a hand on the top of her head and stroked her strawberry blonde waves gently. “I remember doing this when you were little. You will always be my little girl. No matter what.”

  Emmaline merely blushed slightly. “Mama,” she half whined.

  “Fine. Fine. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she called after her mother, who had turned on a heel and made for the door. She opened it, darted through, and closed it behind her, leaving the young woman with her thoughts and after a few minutes, with her other maid and a bucket of hot water. A bath would be welcome.

  She shed her clothing as soon as the water was high enough in the tub and stepped into the welcoming warmth it offered. The presence of her maid was no cause for concern like it once had been, and she sighed languidly as she rested against the curved edge of the tub with her arms along the sides. Ryna poured yet another bucket of temperate water into the bath and Emmaline heard her place the bucket on the floor and walk away to retrieve her bathing items.

  Soap that smelled of vanilla and strawberries and hair wash that carried a similar scent along with a cream to make her hair soft and easy to brush.

  Ryna pulled a chair over to the tub an
d sat down behind Emmaline while placing the items on a small table. It was not always so, but her mother probably insisted that Ryna stay and assist her with the bath, and Emmaline would not complain at the pampering.

  “I am so glad you are well again, my lady. It was frightening to see you so still and pale,” Ryna spoke from behind her as Emmaline felt hands on her hair.

  Emmaline obediently submerged beneath the water to wet her hair and surfaced. “And I as well.”

  “It was a foul thing that man did to you.”

  “Indeed.”

  “They say he’s an elf, but those in the hall when it happened are saying nothing one way or another.”

  And they would say nothing if her father commanded them not to. The people of this castle were nothing if not fiercely loyal to her family and if they were not, they were relocated with haste. “As they should. But I know that someone has gone down to the prison if nothing else but to gawk.”