Fire And Ice (Book 1) (16 page)

“When there were only a few people around.”  Her eyebrows lowered in thought.  “So there is another body around somewhere.”

              “With its throat cut.”

             
“Wouldn’t there be more blood than that?”

             
“There would unless he knew what he was doing, and if he intended to use this.”  He touched the green over shirt.  “The easiest way to kill quietly is a knife in the back, aimed at the heart.  Once in you give it a quick twist and it’s over.  There are no holes in the back of the shirt so he must have killed for the livery.  The second best way is to cut the throat.”

             
She looked at him in surprise and a little amusement.  “How do you know so much about killing someone from behind?”

             
“We were talking with Hormil one time and he was telling us about taking out sentries.  He was much more colorful in his account.”

             
“I can imagine.”  She studied the body for a moment.  “You do think it was Torvilin?”

             
He thought for a moment.  Right now he couldn’t think of anyone else who might want him dead.  “Yes.  My guess is that this fellow was hired about three days ago.”

             
“That would be just before Torvilin arrived.”

             
“He is not stupid enough to hire an assassin himself.  This guy looks local, so there might be someone who knew him.”

             
Katelyn stood and crossed to the door.  Opening it she stepped out for a moment and when she returned a guardsman, armed with a sword at his side, accompanied her.  He stopped cold at the sight of the body.              

             
“If you could get this out of here?” the Princess ordered, waving a hand at the dead man lying in the middle of the room.  “And tell King Robert that an assassin tried to kill Lord Coran in his room.”

             
The guard glanced at him appraisingly.  He put a hand over his heart.  “At once, Your Highness.”

             
The guard stooped down, grabbed the dead man by the ankles and dragged the body into the hall.  Before Katelyn closed the door, questioning shouts could be heard from others in the hall.

             
She rounded on him and her tone became business-like.  “Onto the bed.  Take off your shirt.  That wound still needs to be cleaned.”  She took a towel and the bowl of water over to the bed.

             
Coran struggled out of the shirt with some effort, then moved so that he was able to lean with his back against the light colored wood of the headboard.  She soaked the cloth in the water then began to wipe the dried blood from the six inch long scrape that crossed his chest.  If he wasn’t so tired he would have winced at the pressure.  As it was, he gave a little grunt when she started.

             
“Robert will take care of the guards.  We shouldn’t have to worry about any more attacks,” she said while she worked. 

             
He closed his eyes.  This was the first time all day that he was able to relax.  Too many surprises, too much reacting when he ought to be the one dictating things.  Twice he had underestimated people today.  Stemis and his need to have everything tied up in a nice little package was one.  Torvilin and the level of his hate was the other.  He would have expected it after today, but that the man would want him killed for what happened in Summerhall was difficult to believe.  He couldn’t afford to make another mistake. 

             
The towel stopped moving on him and he opened his eyes.  Katelyn was watching him intently.  He thought it was a look he recognized.  She turned away quickly, gathered the towel and the bowl of water, and rose off the bed.  She put her burden down on the small washstand. 

             
“I should get cleaned up myself,” she said without looking at him.

             
He raised an arm as he was about to stop her from leaving, then let it drop, as she hurriedly left the room and closed the door firmly behind her.  He wanted to say something about what had happened tonight, but realized that he had no idea what to say.  He knew that they would have to discuss the situation sometime. 

Chapter 10

Conversations

              Two paths stood ahead of him.  Two perfectly round tunnels of darkness.  There was no need for him to look anywhere else, he knew there were no other openings.  No other paths from which to choose.  He had to choose.  The thought was there without knowing why.  Which way to go?  Which direction should he take his life?  He had to choose.

             
He could feel the darkness closing in around him.  Shadows touched his shoulders, tried to grab him, to hold him.  He had to choose. 

             
A shape appeared in one of the tunnel openings.  It became more distinct, like a cloud becoming solid.  Suddenly it was Katelyn standing before him.  She wore a pure white gown that glowed from some unseen light.  Her hair blew outward behind her, but he felt no motion of air. 

             
A soft yellow light reflected off the smooth walls of the second tunnel.  It grew brighter, or came closer, he could not be sure.  Behind Katelyn there was only blackness, yet she glowed like the moon in the night. 

             
The tendrils of darkness caressed his face and he shivered from their touch.  The second path offered a brighter, yellowish light.  He took a hesitant step towards it.  As if that were a signal the light pulsed and grew in intensity.  The darkness, instead of receding, grew as well.  It now wrapped itself around his arms and ran down his front like a wave of black water.  He took another, hesitant step and heat, hot enough to have come from a forge fire, hit his face.  He stopped moving, but the heat grew and the light came closer.  He knew now that it was moving.  Faster it approached until he could see what it was.  A wall of molten flame burst out of the tunnel to engulf him.  Instead of being burned though, he was permeated with a feeling of power.  He was power.  It coursed through every part of him.  With this much power he could do anything.  He could make the world a better place.  Hunger could be eradicated, and disease made nonexistent.  He could save others from the fate that took his mother from him.  He felt stronger than he ever had.  He felt more alive than ever before. 

             
Something was wrong.  He felt too good.  No single person should wield this much power.  The darkness was no longer on him, but had joined the power inside him.  Then he felt what that power really was.  Although he could do great good with it, the power itself was destructive.  It was the power
of
destruction. 

              Coran sat up in bed gasping.  He raised a hand to his face but it felt cool.  The room was still dark so he lay back down.  Was it just a dream, or something more? 

             
Gelarus said that dreams were like windows.  Sometimes they opened up into parts of the dreamer’s mind that were consciously unknown.  Memories that had been lost, fears and hopes that were buried, or knowledge unrealized were all things that could be revealed in a dream.  Also dreams could just be abstract interpretations of real life events.  Sometimes those windows opened up into future possibilities that the dreamer might eventually encounter.  That was only part of what Gelarus knew on the subject.  He also said that it was almost impossible for someone to know which had occurred.  Even with the help of someone trained in dreaming it was an imperfect science.  Of course, Gelarus had pointed out that there were only a handful of people in the world who understood it at all.

             
But none of that answered his question.  Was it a real choice he had to make or just some play on his fears for the future?  A feeling in him said it was important, so he should at least think about it.  Besides, he didn’t think he could go back to sleep.

             
Obviously, in the dream he had a choice to make, a choice between two paths to follow.  Down one road there was Katelyn and down the other she was not.  He got a chill at that thought.   Did that idea come from his interpretation or did he know what it meant?  He could go around and around on thinking that way.  The only way to do this was to decide what it meant and to trust his gut that it was right.  He knew what one path held for him; the promise of light; a promise of light through power; the light of fire and destruction.  Or was it that simple?  The other way was hidden and only Katelyn gave any hint of what followed.  Was that enough?  His gut just told him he had found the core of it.  He was afraid of what might happen after he made such a choice.  He was so wary of what came after that he did not want to make any choice at all.  He hid from that just like he hid from his own feelings.  The dream was telling him that he had to make a choice, and it had shown the way he had to choose. 
No, not had to, but wanted to?
 

             
He sat up, shaking his head.  “I think too much. What do I know about dreams? Nothing.”  Katelyn being in his dream after yesterday was not surprising.  The whole betrothal situation was bound to produce dreams of some sort, and the assassin would not help with that either.  He was going to make a choice and right now that was to get up and get dressed.

             
His black shirt was still torn from last night, so he went to the dresser and pulled out a plain white one.  He dressed quickly, feeling refreshed despite the troubling dream.  He picked up his sword belt as a knock came from the other side of the door.

             
“Come,” he called loud enough to be heard through the heavy wooden door.

             
It was Alys who entered.  She wore a light dress of pale rose.  Her brown hair was pulled over one shoulder and hung in curls.  She still held her eyes downcast at times, but she was getting better.  “My Lord, Her Highness would like it if you would join her this morning in the practice yard.”

             
Coran looked to the curtained window.  He must have been lying in bed, thinking, longer than he had thought.  The sun was just above the horizon.  He turned to her and bowed low.  “My Lady, gladly will I meet with Her Highness.”  She just stared, unsure how to take his formality.  “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Coran?  I won’t be offended.”

             
“Sorry.  It is a difficult habit to break.”

             
He finished buckling the belt and adjusted the sword at his hip.  “Why in the yard?” he asked as they left.

             
“Her, Katelyn is feeling rather confined.  She did not feel like a morning spent in conversation.”

             
“Was she dressed to watch or participate?”

             
“Participate,” Alys admitted, smiling.

             
They walked on through near empty halls, past marble columns and intricate tapestries.  People were resting up for the spring celebration that would begin in earnest throughout the afternoon.  It was a celebration of rebirth for another year.

             
“You know,” he asked suddenly, “I don’t think I ever heard anyone mention your house name.”

             
She did not answer right away and nearly stumbled when he asked.  When she answered it was not much more than a whisper.  “Meneroe.  My name is Alysaria Meneroe.”

             
He almost stumbled himself.  Meneroe.  That explained her inclination towards deference.  Lord Meneroe was considered a good man, at least when dealing with other men.  He was reputed to be less than considerate to the fairer sex.  From some of the things he had heard that was stating it nicely.  Of course, having his daughter in Summerhall would increase her value to a potential suitor.  Lord Meneroe was known for getting full value out of what was his. 

             
“You don’t have to worry about anything like that here,” he assured her.  He felt bad for asking her to tell him.  It couldn’t be easy growing up in a house like that.              

“I know.  You and Katelyn have been very kind.  Not all are when I tell them.”

              “I don’t know if it will make you feel any better, but I will not let you be sold off like furniture.”  When she didn’t say anything he wondered if he should have kept his mouth shut.  “It is none of my business if you would rather...”  That was as far as he got.   He stopped walking when she did, and just held her when she fell against him.

             
“You do not know what that means to me,” she said with a sniffle.  After a few minutes she stepped away and smoothed her dress.  “Katelyn said much the same thing.  Growing up where I did I was not able to have friends.  Not real friends anyway.  Katelyn is the first.  You are the second.  Thank you.”

             
The truth of the words startled him.  The emotion behind them made him feel embarrassed.  They continued until they passed a wide arched doorway and out under the morning sun.  There were guards a level up watching the walls. 

             
“Can I ask you a question?” she said tentatively. 

             
“Of course,” he responded immediately.  After he had inadvertently pried into her life she could ask him anything.

             
“Why do you not tell her that you love her?”  This time it was his turn to stop.  “It is plain that you do.”  When he didn’t answer she took it as a sign to go on.  “Is it because of your duty?  Katelyn has told me of your father.  He is duty.  In that he is like my father, and would be if not for having you.”  She turned her eyes downward.  “I hope that I have not said something I should not.”

             
“No.”  He lifted her head by the chin until she was looking him in the eye again.  “I value your opinion.”              

She smiled thankfully.  “Your father was not always so, and I do not think he would want to sacrifice what he once had because of the way he is now.  I have seen duty and now I have seen life.  Do not let duty take away your life.”

              He could only smile at her.  She was just trying to help, but it was a topic he had so far avoided.  “Thank you.”

             
She stared back.  “For what?”

             
“For giving me the truth.”  The truth the way she saw it anyway.  He was not so sure.  “You didn’t spend a lot of time talking with Margery, did you?”  It sounded like something Katelyn’s older sister would say.

             
At least she had the decency to blush.  “She spoke to me about a few things.”

             
“A few things about me?”

             
“A few.”

             
He laughed and they walked on when he heard the crack, crack, crack of wooden blades meeting.  They stopped by the stone wall and looked over and down into the square, dirt yard.  Devon was there in plain brown clothes, he was sparring with a dark haired girl who appeared to bounce on the balls of her feet from stance to stance.  She was dressed in a baggy white shirt much like Coran’s.  The bottom of her brown trousers were caked in dust from the dirt they fought over.  The yard was empty except for the two, but two guardsmen had gathered nearby and were looking down at the contest as well.  One was young and short, the other was slightly older and taller. 

             
“She’s pretty good,” the one guard stated, open appreciation clear on his young face.  He could not be more than seventeen.              

“Careful who you gawk at boy,” the other man said as if he were not a couple of years older, but some experienced veteran.  “That’s the Lady Katelyn.”  He watched the younger guard’s jaw drop.  “Bother her and you’re as good as messing with the Lord Coran.  I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side.  Not after what he did to Torvilin.”

              The young one shook his head vigorously in agreement, then froze as his face went pale.  He hit the other guard on the arm and pointed towards Coran.  The older one gulped as he noticed him for the first time. 

             
Coran walked casually past the two to reach the stairs that ran down to the yard.  Alys smiled as she followed.  He looked back over his shoulder halfway down the stairs, the two men were gone.

             
“I think that after yesterday you will find that you have a certain reputation,” Alys told him.

             
“I do not think that is a good thing.”

             
“Really?  How better than to avoid a fight than tell someone your name.  Who in their right mind would face the man who bested Torvilin?”

             
He didn’t have a response to that.  It made sense, and if it avoided a fight maybe it was a good thing in the long run.  They reached the yard and the sparrers stopped to face them.

             
“Finally,” Katelyn commented wryly.  “Now for some real competition.”

             
“Hey,” Devon protested.  “You may be good but not that good.”

             
“Who hit whom more often?”

             
He didn’t answer that.  “Well it is not like I lost to a woman.  She is a princess, and that makes it different.”                Katelyn rounded on him.  “Are you saying I am not a woman?” she asked, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.