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Loric tugged his long woolen cloak securely about his sword to keep it hidden and stepped into the hall, being sure to shut tightly behind him the door to his room. Loric proceeded to the nearest guard tower, where he told the man posted by the door, “Lord Aldric has made a special request to have a man posted at each end of the guest hallway where he is presently quartered.

Could you see to it that two men are dispatched at once?”

The guard seemed hesitant. His tongue looked fat in his open mouth.

“If you cannot spare men of your own, send this message on to Men of Egolstadt with all haste, if you please,” Loric told him. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an urgent meeting with the Lord of Egolstadt and I cannot be late.”

Without waiting for a reply, Loric hurried along his way. Sensing the urgency of his meeting with Aldric following the evening’s unlikely events, he made haste to the High Terrace, which was situated between two tall towers overlooking a moonlit courtyard. In his eagerness to learn what had come of Aldric’s chase, he arrived well ahead of his liege lord. He found the high walk dreadfully lonely at that late hour. It was like a different place than the one Marblin had shown him at midday.

“Forgive my tardiness,” Aldric’s resonating tone blared.

Loric jumped at the sound. He expelled a relieved breath and turned to face his liege. With a slight bow, he started, “My lord, I am glad to see you-”

The gash above Aldric’s eye halted his words in his mouth. “My quarry caused me minor injury,” he explained tightly in answer to Loric’s unasked question. Subdued harshness stalked between his words. He was clearly angry, but he was as poised and professional as Loric had ever seen him. “It would pain me less if the scoundrel had not escaped me.”

“No!” Loric cried in frustration. “Say it is not so.” His reaction was out before he could stifle it, but he could not take it back.

Aldric nodded his understanding and put his arm on his squire’s shoulder to draw him near.

“What of the princess?” he whispered. “Is she safe?”

“She was when last I saw her, but she may stand unguarded while we hold this meeting,”

Loric informed Aldric. He went on to tell what precautions he had taken on Avalana’s behalf, to which Aldric nodded his approval.

The Lord of Egolstadt grinned broadly and said, “The princess is well guarded, then. You have proven you are resourceful yet again, Loric. You have done well,” Aldric praised him. His face changed to one of horror, as he stopped his next intended sentence abruptly to ask, “What happened to you? Is this the work of the assassin?” he questioned.

“No, my lord,” Loric mumbled. He lied ashamedly, “Stairs do not take kindly to great

haste.”

“They received the princess’ light feet with much satisfaction, though?” Aldric asked, wide-eyed with alarm.

Loric feigned embarrassment. “Of course. I alone showed the grace of a one-legged bear.”

“I am sorry to learn of your misfortune,” Aldric consoled him. A sly grin lit his face, as he added, “If I did not know better, I might think you try your best to remain injured to stay close to the lovely Princess of Regalsturn.” His slight pause, broken by a knowing chuckle, told Loric that his liege had spotted the reddening of his cheeks in the pale moonlight. Aldric went on, “I think it more likely that you were helped down those stairs, with all of Lord Garrick’s furniture to chase you down, for that is remarkably close to how I looked after a similar incident.” Before Loric could object, Aldric threw in, “My advice to you--in this order--is to duck, block and hit back next time someone wants to work you over like a practice-yard doll! You are a Squire of Egolstadt now!”

“Yes, my lord,” Loric answered ashamedly. “I understand and I will do better, for the honor of your house.”

“Good,” said Aldric, looking certain that he had gotten his message across. He withdrew a rolled parchment from his belt pouch, handed it to Loric and informed him, “This is your training schedule for the morrow. It will tell you where to be and when to be there, as well as what you will be learning and who will be instructing you in the event of my absence.” Extending his index finger toward a blank column on the paper, he told his attendant in a faint whisper, “Filter light through the diamond hilt of your father’s sword, and you will see here Princess Avalana’s scheduled activities for the same times.”

“But.... how-?” Loric fumbled after his question.

“Knight’s Code,” Aldric whispered. “It is an old and secret way to send messages,” he explained, “for it takes use of Knight Vision to see these messages.”

“Knight’s Code…?” Loric questioned in near disbelief, with his fingers naturally straying to his hidden sword hilt. “Knight Vision,” he murmured. When Aldric nodded twice, his eyes casually following the subtle movement of Loric’s hand, the traveler from Taeglin confessed, “I had thought such things the stuff of legend.”

Aldric chuckled and said, “You have much to learn about the Way of a Knight, Loric of Taeglin. Let tonight’s lesson be that oftentimes it is true that only time separates legend from reality.” He clapped his stunned squire on the back, urging him, “Let us return to our rooms, where we will say nothing of the things we have discussed here.”

“Why is that, lord?” Loric begged to know.

“Because our private guest chambers are not likely private, Loric,” Aldric explained, as they went.

****

Whether he was learning with his sword or a lance, mounted or afoot, Avalana remained under his protective watch. Letting his gaze stray to the fair maiden overlong often earned him a stinging slap against his exposed flesh or a resounding shot across his helmet, because it was nigh on impossible for him to tear his eyes from her. Even knowing Lord Dandrakor’s ill will toward him could not blind him to Avalana’s fair features or her casual study of his practice from afar. To his surprise, some pretty attendants from among her flock also looked upon him with admiration, ere he ducked into his helmet for another round with Aldric.

The princess smiled in approval as he met a challenging series of thrusts, slashes and pokes from Aldric’s wooden sword, and afterward turned back a similar variation on the routine in rapid succession. He grinned broadly at her in return, until Aldric made a selling fake for his midsection that turned into a successful slash for his head. Loric ducked, but he was too late.

Clank!
Off balance as he was, he slipped to the ground, where his instructor added a fierce poke to his ribs.

Loric threw up his hands and cried, “I yield!”

“A knight with no head has no need to yield,” Aldric admonished him. “His enemies will do to his corpse whatsoever they should wish, and he will not complain,” his liege assured him, adding another slap to his arm. “Our purpose here is twofold: to better teach you the sword, and the other you know well,” he implied, meaning to protect Avalana. “Neither of which includes gawking at fair maidens! Is that clear?”

“Yes, my lord,” Loric replied sullenly.

“You may break for a drink,” Aldric said more kindly. “Perhaps a little water will cool you off.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Loric returned submissively, but he felt hot within.

Loric threw off his helmet. Then he offered a hasty bow, snatched up a jug and moved to draw water from a nearby pump. The water had just begun to gurgle to the spigot when he sensed another being behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Avalana, who was holding a vase.

Her sweet smile faded into a look of concern when she saw the bruises on his face. The princess gasped, clutched at her heart and asked, “What happened,
Ami?
Did Aldric do this to you?”

Loric felt like such a fool. Avalana’s handmaidens had not been looking upon him with admiration. Their soft eyes were full of pity, he now realized. He laughed sardonically and answered, “No, my lady. Aldric is not responsible for the marks you see. In fact, Princess Avalana, you would show me greater favor at a distance, for it seems that
Lord Dandrakor
does not approve of our friendship,” Loric ended coldly.

“I only need water, lord,” Avalana said without a change of tone to show that she had heard him speak. Then, in a lower voice, she hissed, “Dandrakor. So you know, then?”

“I am honored to serve, my lady,” Loric replied so others could hear him. “I hope it is no affront to your many maidservants.”

“I have dismissed them,” Avalana answered calmly. She quietly added, “I sent them away so we could speak privately. Now, tell me what happened,” she commanded him sharply.

Catching the flow in her vase for her, Loric vented, “Your protector sent men to beat me and inform me that he condemns us being together. Had I known that ahead of time, I would not bear these shaming marks upon my face! I need only to know my place, and to keep my distance from you.” He controlled his urge to thrust her pitcher of water out in front of her, but he could not still his trembling hands.

“Thank you,” Avalana said. Her forced smile looked so genuine that Loric could not be sure whether it was until she decreased her volume again. “Is that what you wish?” she hissed. The incredulity in her words was purposeful. “If not, you will meet me in the library at midnight. If it is-” -she let her volume rise as she sweetly finished- “-so long, Lord Loric.”

The princess stalked away or at least the closest to stalking that her royal graces would allow her to do, leaving Loric with an empty vase, empty thoughts and an empty place in his heart. He filled the pitcher quickly enough. The water was already running. In the boredom of filling the jug, he found plenty of thoughts to fill his head. Nevertheless, by the time he finished his water break, he knew that only one thing could give him hope of filling the void in his heart--a visit to the library at the appointed hour. “Too many secret meetings,” he let out in a low rumble.

Chapter Twelve

Duty before Love

A hard day of training drew to an early and merciful close when word came that Lord

Regent Hadregeon, the King of Landolstadt, had arrived at the outskirts of Moonriver under a banner of truce. Aldric abruptly broke off a lesson in mounted combat so he and Loric could prepare for another feast. Aldric commanded his squire, “Polish every plate of my armor to king’s mint. It must shine like Solari’s smile.”

Loric groomed Sunset and Snowstorm, stabled them and rushed back to his chamber. There, he sought out the brilliant shine of
king’s mint
in Aldric’s armor and added a few small touches to the sword,
Judgment
. Afterward he bathed and put on fresh attire, which the court tailor provided, thanks to Aldric’s generous purse. The wide-sweeping cloak that went with Loric’s new clothes helped him feel at ease wearing the Sword of Logant to the event, even against Aldric’s wishes.
I must impress upon his lordship my need for a temporary replacement.

As Loric made his way to the gathering, a heedless soldier barreled blindly into his path.

Only quick reactions saved Loric from a collision with the man, who was less fortunate than he was. The Moonwatcher stumbled wildly to the side to avoid Loric, only to land on his chin. He stayed on the ground for a moment, muttering apologies and curses in a tight cycle, so that it was difficult to discern where one ended and another began. That alone was enough for Loric to identify the poor fellow, even before he saw his lined face and green eyes, or the beard to match his short-cropped gray and brown hair.

“Marblin, are you all right?” Loric asked, hastening to assist the old fellow back to his feet.

“Yeah,” he spat. His tone was one of annoyance, as he added, “I’d be better if that trick-some flagstone had left me alone!”

“Perhaps it was trying to tell you that the grand feast lies that way,” Loric offered, pointing and unable to hide his smirk.

“If the stone will not
lie
in its place, then it certainly would not
lie
about that,” Marblin returned in uneasy jest. He chuckled.

Loric grinned and blinked away his eye roll.

Marblin shared, “I shall have to miss the opening courses, my friend. Duty ever calls the Moonwatchers.”

Loric responded, “Let me detain you no longer, friend Marblin. May the moon never sleep.”

Marblin repeated the Moonwatchers’ farewell and hurried along his way. He stumbled again as he went by Loric, who chuckled at the guardsman’s utter lack of grace and continued to the Hall of Heroes.

Loric entered the wide, high-ceilinged chamber, whereupon his eyes immediately settled upon the impressive lord seated opposite Aldric, near the head of Lord Garrick’s table. He sat arrow straight, forcing others to notice that he was tall--at least from the waist up--in spite of his narrow frame. Shiny black hair fell straight down his back, where it made use of the chair to elude Loric’s gaze. His fair skin made sharp contrast next to his hair, but his handsome features and blue eyes were well suited to his pale likeness. Although his clean-shaven face could be characterized as being boyish next Lord Garrick’s thickly bearded chin, that in no way handicapped his fiercely determined, self-assured presence.

Loric moved to join the other servers at the lords’ table, but Aldric stopped him well short of his goal, calling, “Welcome, cousin! Come, we have made a place for you to dine with us this evening.”

The Lord of Egolstadt patted the chair beside him. Loric made tentative approach, stunned by his sudden rise in status. Aldric properly introduced him to Lord Garrick, Lady Elena and Lord Garrett, the latter of who mumbled his thanks for Loric’s actions at the last feast, and who likewise bore faint blue and black traces beneath the heavy coating of powder on his face. Loric noted his bruises and thought,
Could Dandrakor be the source of those abuses?
However, he said nothing of his interest in the marks Garrett clearly wished to hide. Instead, he spoke warm greetings and bowed to his kindly hosts. He offered like courtesies to the newest arrival to Moonriver Castle, whom Aldric announced as Lord Regent Hadregeon, King of Landolstadt.