Betrayed (Chapter 2)

CHAPTER 2

THIN ICE

THE dark of midnight still lingered over the land, and the sun still hid behind the mountains. It would soon be on the rise, though, and for that reason Fouque knew he didn’t have much time. What he was looking for should be right outside the gate, hidden, but for him to find.

The boy cautiously peered out around the stable door. No one was in sight. Everything was going for him…as of yet. He stuck to the shadows around buildings and crept stealthily to the gate of the village. Once there, he looked to the horizon. A tiny sliver a light was beginning to appear. Quickly, quickly, he urged himself.

The gate had already been opened by the watchmen, so he wasn’t the only around. That put Fouque on high alert. It is a pity, he thought, that I couldn’t have come earlier.

After checking for potential spies, Fouque slid over to his right behind a few trees. There, recently tethered to a branch, stood the horse. It was a beautiful horse. Nearly all black, and very big. Much taller, and therefore stockier, than the average horse. Yet, it was fast, and surprisingly agile.

Swiftly untying the horse, Fouque murmured, “Hey, Black. Haven’t seen you for awhile. We don’t have much time. Come, you have to rest up. The escape horses have to be well readied for a long, fast run.”

The young boy led the obedient horse back through the gate and shut the gate behind him. He walked along the edge of the village to hide from possible detection. The sun was beginning to rise and the rays of light were just shining over the rooftops of the pheasant’s houses. Suddenly, Fouque noticed someone walking in the opposite direction of him off to his right. Stopping the horse, they stood as statues while watching. After several moments Fouque recognized Shamara. He wondered absurdly why she would be out here so early.

Shamara nearly collided with a knight walking the opposite way around the corner of a house. “Hello, my lady,” Favian greeted her graciously. His eyes looked over the young woman. He had thought her beautiful since the day he arrived and his thoughts never changed.

“What has you out so early this morning, Miss?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to get some fresh air without walking through the busy streets.” She walked past him, and he watched her walk down the road towards the gate. As she reached the gate, she tried to push open the heavy gate, which someone had shut, but it seemed too heavy for her.

“Here, “Favian offered, “I’ll help you.”

She looked up into his kind gray eyes. “No, thank you. I’ll manage.” She struggled, throwing her weight against the door, but it wouldn’t move.

Favian leaned gently upon it and pushed. It swung easily wide open, revealing an open dirt lane. Shamara glared angrily up at knight and turned back towards the castle.

Favian stared after, smiling. “She’s an independent one, that girl,” he muttered to himself.

Fouque silently watched this seemingly irrelevant scene unfold, and he realized he’d made a dreadful mistake. It was lucky for him that such a thing as this had just happened. While he had led Black into the village, he had stupidly shut the gate. Obviously Favian had thought nothing of it, though, so he was safe from detection, or so he thought.

Glancing behind him to be sure that Favian didn’t spot him, which was unlikely because he was by then out of sight, Fouque quietly led Black to the stable inside the castle. He wasn’t afraid of the watchmen, for they hadn’t seen him come out and would certainly believe the story he would tell them.

He stole one last look over his shoulder to view an empty scene. Black snorted as Fouque collided with another man. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet. Fouque tried to bypass the man, but he blocked his path. Black whinnied shrilly and shook his head angrily. Fouque quieted him with a touch of his hand.

“What are you doing out here, boy?” Fouque recognized the voice as Ferand’s. He had come the night before and been there for the last meal of the day.

“Taking this horse for a walk. He’s been restless all night, sir.” Fouque’s voice didn’t falter amidst his lie. His eyes and face betrayed nothing of the truth. In fact, he seemed quiet innocent.

Ferand wasn’t easily convinced. “So early?” he asked, voice full of doubt.

Again Fouque offered a believable and premeditated lie. “It’s easier to walk through empty streets, sir. Horses get nervous with people crowding them on all sides.”

Ferand remained quiet, as if considering what the boy had said but still not letting him pass. Finally, he asked, “Have you seen Shamara out here?”

Fouque wondered if Ferand’s question was a trap. It easily could be. If he would reveal the fact that he had seen Shamara at the gate it would tell where he had been. He couldn’t tell anybody that much information.

“No,” Fouque answered. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t see her. She must be back in the castle.”

Fouque pushed his way past the man, and he quickly made his way inside the castle. He must be fast because he couldn’t risk being spotted by anyone else.

Ferand’s eyes curiously watched the boy as he led the horse away. Strange boy, he thought. He looked at the horse. The way it walked, its build, and its intelligent face and eyes. A beauty. Its muscles rippled underneath the silky hide. The feet were placed smoothly and evenly as it walked. Its head and body was wonderfully shaped for a horse. It looked like a cross of several different breeds, which made for a healthy and sturdy animal.

Once back in the castle, Ferand saw a few of the knights fencing. They were good. Ferand stopped to watch, not the fencing, but the people. One person if particular. He had seen him the night before, just the way Hasculpus had described him: tall, dark, and handsome. Tall, dark, and dead, Ferand thought harshly.

There he was; fighting with all the skill a knight could ever want. He had the speed, strength, and dexterity it took to be a knight. Pity he won’t be around to use it. Hasculpus had told Ferand that he was an endangerment to his plans. Therefore, he must be ‘taken care of’. But he had to wait just a while longer.

The shifting of horses’ feet and the jingling of their bridles filled the air as a small army stood waiting for the command to proceed. Off to one side of the group stood two men, the leaders. They were discussing some urgent message that had just been delivered.

One man sat uncomfortably on a tall, but slim gray dappled horse, while the other sat on a bay horse.

“A delay?! What do you mean ‘a delay’?” the man on the white horse asked, obviously angered at the newly received news.

The man on the bay horse seemed to cower, but yet answered the other man bravely. “The signal was given, but abruptly taken back. It is not the time to attack. I suspect the Traitor has something to do with it.”

“That idiot! Threatening to betray me! Reveal me to his lord, as if that bastard could do anything about it. He’s greedy, wants more money he says.” The man’s eyes twitched as his voice thundered, “But all he’s gonna get is a sword across the throat!”

“Sir! Sir!” the bay’s rider whimpered. “Just wait two more days, maybe even only one and you can attack.”

The man quieted, took a deep breath and said, “Two days, John, two days.”

Maurizio strolled over to the well and dropped the bucket into the hole. The water was deliciously cool and refreshing. He turned away and began walking casually over to the stables. Etienne had told him to pick out a horse for his own since he had none.

The stable boy was watering his horses when Maurizio came. “Excuse me.”

The boy jumped around, eyes almost looking scared. When he saw Maurizio, he relaxed.

Seeing the boy’s apparent nervousness, Maurizio asked, “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No,” he said uncomfortably, “I was expecting no one.”

“That ‘tis good, for I am here on business requested from our lord. What is your name, boy?”

“Fouque.” His eyes became cautious at mention of the lord, and Maurizio noticed but did nothing.

“I am here to choose a horse. I was told you have ones that no one owns. Was my informer correct?”

Fouque nodded, “Yes, we horses for you. Come, they’re in here.” Fouque strode inside the stable to the back few stalls.

The stable smelled of straw and horses. A smell that was comfortingly familiar to Maurizio. There were three horses that weren’t owned. The horse Maurizio picked wouldn’t be his; he would eventually have to pay for it. But right now he didn’t have the money.

The first horse was called Ghost. He was a white stallion with a black nose. He seemed feisty and high-spirited. Ghost pranced around in his confining stall and jerked away his head when Maurizio extended his hand to touch him. Fouque labeled him as a show-off.

The next horse was a small, young mare. She was brown with a half-white face and four white feet. She looked strong, but not very fast. When Maurizio asked about her name Fouque answered, “Blood Sister. We don’t know where the name came from, but it’s all we’ve ever called her.” Maurizio reached out to rub her forehead. “Watch it,” Fouque warned, “She bites.”

The final horse seemed quiet and well-mannered. His hindquarters were spotted, but the rest of his body was a dark chestnut color, as were his eyes. This horse didn’t have a name, and he seemed to be significantly lame in his front right leg.

Maurizio turned to Fouque, who stood patiently waiting beside him. “I think I’ll take Ghost.” Then he spotted a black horse roomed next to Blood Sister. He examined him. “Who’s this,” he questioned Fouque.

“Um, he doesn’t really have a name, but I call him Black.”

Taking a liking to the big black stallion, Maurizio asked, “Is he available?”

“No!” Fouque said quickly. “I mean, he’s my horse.”

Maurizio looked oddly down at the boy, who innocently met his gaze. “He’s your horse, but he doesn’t have a name… okay.” Maurizio, not believing what the boy had told him, reached up and plucked the bridle off the nail beside Ghost’s stall. Reaching over the half-door, he easily slipped it over the horse’s head. Ghost shook his head and snorted. “Show-off, he was right,” Maurizio muttered.

The knight led the high-stepping horse down the aisle, past dozens more horses. One horse, and pretty Palomino, with a long silky mane and tail, reached out and nipped Ghost’s rump. The stallion neighed loudly and reared up. Standing on his hind legs, he struck wildly with his front hooves. Maurizio, while dodging the flailing feet, pulled Ghost’s head down along with his front legs. Once his horse once again had his four feet firmly on the ground, Maurizio looked over at the horse that had bit him. “Who’s this feisty beast?” The mare eyed him suspiciously as she laid back her ears and snorted angrily.

Fouque stood beside Maurizio. “That’s Lash. She belongs to Miss Shamara.” He paused the quietly added, “They kind of act alike, don’t you think?”

Maurizio almost smiled, but forced himself not to. “Maybe.” Yes, they are alike, but I suppose the horse got it from her master.

Maurizio rode bareback through the village and down the road to the Lord’s Forest. Ghost was exceptionally agile and swift and sported a smooth gait. Trees and people alike were a blur when he galloped past, and he could stop or turn so rapidly that at first he almost threw Maurizio off. Ghost seemed to race the wind as his feet pounded on the dirt, leaving a thick trail of dust. His mouth was tender and he needed only the slightest coaxing of the bit. The horse wasn’t built for work; he was built for speed and agility, which was evident. And though high-spirited, he was obedient. Ghost was often impatient, and all he wanted to do was run…or fly.

Ghost…

The name seemed to fit. One second he was there, and the next he disappeared into a cloud of dust.

At the end of the day Maurizio stood atop the castle’s battlements, gazing intently at the distant mountains. The mountains were scarcely visible in the growing mist of dusk. A wind had picked up and ruffled Maurizio’s dark hair and swirled around his solid frame. Minutes past.

A second man joined Maurizio. He was around Maurizio’s height, had dark hair, too. His build was slightly smaller, and his eyes shone with the color of the purest blue.

Maurizio turned with the sound of footsteps. “Hello Maverick. What brings you out up here?”

“I have been sent to bring you to the knight’s quarters. The time is nearing that we all turn in for the night.”

“So soon?”

Maverick smiled, “We rise early in the morning.”

The two knights strolled casually down into the castle and made their way through the stone walls to knights’ quarters. While walking past the stables, Maurizio glimpsed Shamara riding in on Lash. Her beautiful face was composed, and her black hair hung loosely around her shoulders as the wind ruffled it slightly while she rode. Her body was relaxed upon the back of the horse, creating a wonderful picture of complete bliss and tranquility. Stunning… no…

Magical.

Delightfully magical.

Maverick glanced sidelong at Maurizio. “You’ve taken a liking to the lady I see.”

“Yes,” he answered mildly, “There hasn’t a man been born that could resist such profound… beauty. No, beauty is far too meek a word to describe her. Beauty is a mere piece of dust compared to that woman. She sheds a deep shadow over everything that we as common men look at as beautiful.”

Maverick smiled. “Never have a met a man as wise as you. Nor as poetic.”

Maurizio gave him a skeptical glance.

“You are,” Maverick insisted. “You have a mystical way with words. A way that ladies love to hear. You could tantalize any woman with your words alone.”

“I could do more to a woman than tantalize her with my words.”

Eyes sparkling, Maverick laughed softly.

“So, you’ve seen Shamara?” Sheridan asked.

Maverick quickly butted in, “Yes, and he’s taken somewhat a liking to her.” He made eyes to Sheridan. “You should hear him talk about her. Quite the scandal.”

A hand lightly cuffed Maverick over the head. “Let the man talk for himself.”

Sheridan smiled gleefully. “You’re just happy someone else feels the same way about the lady as you do, Favian. We all know what you think of her.”

Jabari laughed along with Maurizio and the other men.

While the other knights slept soundly in their cots, these five men lounged around with one another and attempted to have a good time without getting themselves in trouble for staying up for all hours.

Jabari, though he didn’t show much emotion, thoughtfully asked, “Maurizio, every man agrees that on the outside Shamara is the very essence of beauty, but have you noticed the way she talks and acts and the way she often treats those around her?”

Maurizio thought back to the evening before. Ferand, haughty disposition and all, had not so graciously graced the castle with his presence. He had come to be with his gorgeous fiancé before their wedding.

Shamara had come gracefully walking into the Great Hall before the last meal of the day, her form-fitting dress catching the attention of many men. When Ferand offered to lead her by the arm to the table set for royalty only, she had tossed her pretty head and refused. In fact, she refused every friendly gesture made by Ferand throughout that entire evening.

He had also witnessed her chance meeting with Thibaud, a watchman. Though Thibaud studied her with lustful eyes, he spoke innocently and pleasantly. She retailed to his friendliness and shot him down. Yet as he left her, she stared after him, almost sadly, with some hidden emotion peeking through in her eyes.

“Well,” blue eyed Maverick prodded.

First Maurizio asked them all, “Has she ever loved someone before?”

“Yes, a long time ago.” Jabari thought back to the time. “He was a squire, soon to become a knight, and she was young. It seems she was more sociable back in those days. She freely expressed her love for the boy, and he did, too. Oh, it was all quite blameless, but they did really love each other. Then one day, I guess the boy found something better. He left her with only bitter words that broke her fragile heart. She cried for days, but was soon over him.” His gaze wavered on Maurizio. “Why do you ask?”

But Maurizio didn’t hear him. He was silent for a bit, and then said, “She’s afraid.”

Confused glances were exchanged between the men. “Of what?”

“Shamara never got over that boy, her first love. When he left her, he broke her, hurt her like she’s never been hurt. She may think that she’s over him, but he’s scarred her…for life. She’s afraid to love again. She doesn’t want to be hurt. He broke her trust, so now a wall’s been put up around her heart, protecting her from that hurt. With that wall there, nobody can get into her heart, so nobody can break it. When someone tries to break through that barrier, she lashes out and pushed them away, because she’s afraid they might be able to get through her wall.”

Murmurs of agreement slowly began to flow through the small throng of men. “That does make sense.”

“I’ve never looked at it that way.”

“I would’ve never guessed.”

Then, silence.

Maurizio was the first to break the spell with a question he had wanted to ask. “How much do you know about why exactly I was summoned here?”

“What do you mean?” Maverick replied.

“When I first got here, Shamara was talking to Yori about suspected treason. Yori refused to tell her everything. I was wondering if the knights would know more about the treason.”

Again silence.

Jabari sighed. “The baliff and the lord aren’t telling anyone anything right now. At least not us. All we know is that someone in this castle is committing mutiny. The lord fears that the information that is leaking out will be used in a vicious attack to the castle. I heard him say, ‘We are standing on thin ice, and that ice is about to break.’ ”

It was dark, very dark when the moon slid behind a thick coverage of black clouds. The darkness in the air might almost be considered suffocating, but Etienne didn’t think of it. In his hands he held the reason for his worries, or at least most of them.

The dull sliver of moon forced its way from behind the clouds, shining one weak beam of light down to the castle grounds. The light revealed a shimmering of blue.

Etienne gazed over the diamond. It was large and one of the rarest blue colors. It took his breath away.

But only known to Etienne, this diamond held secrets, awful secrets. To no one was he to share the deadly secrets of the diamond. Few knew of the diamond’s presence to begin with, but only he knew what there was not to be known.

He feared that someone had found out about this wonderful gleaming treasure through the hole in his security. Who that mutinous hole was, he was desperately trying to uncover. Because like he had said: We are standing on thin ice, and that ice is about to break.