Mandra Read online

  Feeling her indecisiveness, he decided he would just go. He quickly left the room. It had all been a mistake. It would pass. She couldn't love him, and she shouldn't under the circumstances. He was just lonely. That was all.

  He made his way to the snow covered garden, and breathed in the crisp winter air. Yes, he told himself, he was lonely. That was all it was. It would pass. Anything else was impossible.

  Isabel had watched him go and guilt had flooded into her as she felt a part of her go with him. If she stayed away from him, she thought, maybe it would be all right.

  But her fears about Devon returned. What if he was hurt or locked up? What if he couldn't get back to her? What if it took years for him to get back to her? What if... no, he wasn't dead. Of course, he wasn't dead. Don't be ridiculous, she scolded herself. It was worry over Devon that must've caused her to cling to Nole. Nole was here. Devon wasn't. That made him easier to love. But it wasn't real. She must remember that. It wasn't real.

  * * *

  It was hard for her to look at Nole again after the absence of a few hours or a day. Every time she saw him again, unexpected feelings rushed over her. She remembered his lips on hers. Or his arms tightly around her, as if he had needed her. It was always hard to once again push those feelings into the background. It was hard to resist pushing a lock of hair away from his eyes or laying a hand gently on his arm. She had forbidden herself to touch him. Unfortunately, this made her think of it more. And when she did accidentally brush him, those feelings would rush in anew. It was a constant struggle to act normal around him.

  He went along with the charade and they acted as if nothing had happened. They were more formal with each other now. Neither of them would risk another episode like the one on that bright snowy night. They saw each other less and less as the strain became too much. Complete avoidance seemed to work better. Isabel didn't ride anymore, so it was not hard to avoid Nole. When they passed each other, a simple nod assured them both that they were still friends. And that was enough for now.

  Still the guilt of what she had allowed to happen weighed heavily on Isabel's heart. It was a secret that burned her from the inside out every time she thought of it. It could never happen again. That was all she could do about it now. It had come out of grief, she reasoned with herself. The circumstances were just too overwhelming. But she knew to avoid that now. Any situation that might lead to a similar incident.

  She had taken to studying her books again, as she had with Devon. The library had enough books to keep her occupied for a lifetime, she thought, had she chosen that. She would read anything and everything. As long as her mind was free from thoughts of Devon and Nole, she was at peace. There was nothing else for her to do in this big empty castle, but study.

  Kie was spending quite a bit of time down at the stables lately and Isabel was surprised at this. He didn't make friends easily. It was odd he should grow close to Nole so quickly. She would see them together outside her window sometimes. Getting along amiably and laughing at this and that. They went riding, groomed the horses. It seemed that Valen had acquired another stable hand, she thought.

  She rarely saw Kie, but this didn't bother her at first. Now and then she became quite curious about what he and Nole discussed together. What they laughed at so heartily. The week before they had even gone hunting together for a few days at the cabin.

  Isabel couldn't bring herself to approach the stables, so she just watched the two of them. Or watched the stables for signs of them. The book in her hand stayed on the same page for quite some time.

  Zenie quietly slipped into the room to bring firewood and turn the logs in the fire.

  Isabel heard a crack and turned with a start. "Oh, Zenie," she said, relieved.

  Zenie blushed. "Sorry." She began to go towards the door to leave.

  "Oh, don't leave yet," Isabel said quickly, climbing off her window seat perch. She walked over to the chairs near the fire. "Come warm yourself for a minute." She motioned for Zenie to join her, and sat in one of the chairs.

  Zenie gingerly followed and perched herself on the edge of the opposite chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her back straight. "Are you feeling all right?" she asked Isabel kindly.

  "Oh, yes, thank you." Isabel smiled and laid her book down beside her. "I was wondering... what do those two have to talk about, do you think?" She motioned in the direction of the stables. "They spend a lot of time together lately, don't you think?"

  "Yes," Zenie said quietly and a small smile crept over her lips. She even suppressed a giggle. "I think Kie might be staying on to help with the horses. That could be it."

  "Yes, that could be it." Isabel eyed Zenie closely. The girl's smile had gotten broader as she said Kie's name. It suddenly dawned on Isabel that something quiet may have been growing for quite some time in Zenie's heart. She smiled back at the girl. She was fifteen now, and still a tiny person, but her outfit did seem to have more curves to it. Subtle curves. She'd be a petite woman, but lovely. Isabel wondered if Kie had noticed these things about the young maid. And if he had would he take her seriously or toy with her and break her heart? This worried Isabel, but for now it all seemed neatly contained in Zenie's innocent imagination. It would be safe there for a while, Isabel thought, and didn't try to draw it out of the girl.

  Still, she had wanted company. They chatted for a few minutes, until Zenie said she'd best get back to her duties, and in a flash she was gone again. Isabel thought of her for a long time after her departure. She saw her in a new light now. Poor Zenie, she thought, with no one to guide her through things like this.

  Isabel never did get back to her book that day.

  Chapter 17

  It was a cold winter that year and there were few days warm enough to walk out into. But those days did come, and when they did, Isabel hurriedly bundled herself up and went out to face them.

  One day after breakfast, she stomped through the thick layer of snow on the hills, her breath clouding her view as she went. She stopped at the top of a small hill far away from the castle. Facing south, and Kargid, she hugged herself for warmth and looked longingly at the horizon. Farther out there was a thicket of trees. Behind them, a few miles away, lay Valen's cabin and many more miles beyond that, her childhood home. Only from the outside did it seem ugly to her. Only from this great distance of time, experience, and miles.

  She and Kie had grown up there together. He was an only child, with no father. His mother was a maid in the castle and she was older than most mothers of a child Kie's age. This made her a wiser, more forgiving parent. But for all her wisdom, she could not make Kie into the man she hoped he'd be. He was wild and reckless. He always wanted more. More action, more adventure. More danger.

  This appealed to young Mandra, bored daughter of the king, often left alone to entertain herself. She rarely saw her father and her mother had died long ago. Aside from lessons in reading and etiquette, she had no obligations. She was trained in courtly manners, should the king ever have need of her in diplomatic affairs. He never did. And so she was free to do as she pleased.

  Eret was her father in name only. She could see that people were tense around him and grew tense at the mere mention of him. And those who did not know Mandra well, grew tense at the sight of her as well. She was the princess. She was his blood. Surely, she was not to be spoken freely in front of or allowed to see anything a little off kilter.

  Things grew quiet wherever she went. Conversations would stop. She had a sort of power and she knew this. She felt it. She accepted it, expected it.

  But then there was her family. They were every bit her family even if they weren't her blood. Kie's mother was just as much her mother. Aunt Kady was her aunt just as much as she was Kie's.

  Kady was also a maid at Kargid. She had raven black hair, green eyes and an infectious laugh. With her hair pulled back in a knot for her work and a serene expression on her face while she cleaned, you could not tell she was bubbling with
happiness, except for the unmistakable twinkle in her eyes.

  Mandra had worshipped her. She was beautiful and nice and had a strong will. Mandra had once tried to color her hair black with paint to look like Kady. Kie had laughed so hard, he made her burst into tears and run back to her room.

  Kie's mother had smiled and said that if God had intended all people to look alike, he'd have made them that way himself. She said the reason Kady was so beautiful was because she had a beautiful spirit, not because she had pretty hair. That would fade one day, she told Mandra, but her beauty wouldn't.

  This was a nice thought, Mandra decided. From that day on, she saw herself differently. She saw that she could affect people, not with her looks, but with her spirit. And beauty would naturally follow. Kie had had a good mother, and so had Mandra, in the same woman.

  In their teens, the two friends were separated more. Kie ran off and got into trouble more times than she could count. Mandra often found herself trying to console his mother. Their mother. She never succeeded. The worry stayed on her face 'til he returned, every time.

  Then there was the stallion. Eret's own horse, newly acquired, beautifully tamed to suit a king. White and strong. Kie did what he did for sport, and nothing else. That was the insanity of the whole matter.

  Mandra had woken to shouts and flashes of torchlight.

  Out her window she could see a crowd at the stables. Guards mostly. Two stable hands as well. The horse was already gone, and Kie already accused of the theft.

  He must've known he would be accused. He was seen by a stable hand. He was known for his pranks. He must've known the penalty for this must be death. Hanging. The king would not be made a fool of by a poor maid's son.

  It did not help when the stallion was found the next day roaming a meadow just outside the castle grounds, his beautiful mane and tail clipped short.

  Kie was wanted badly. He had carved himself an awful fate. There was no escaping it, or so it seemed.

  In their younger days, the two had discovered a secret meeting place for themselves. Eret's castle grounds were much larger than Valen's and the land much more rocky and rough. Beside a stream that swelled each spring, there was a pile of huge rocks. If one were to weave through these boulders just right, the opening of a cave would appear. Just as it had one moonlit night when Kie discovered it.

  He'd led her there the next day. He often swore to her he spent whole nights wandering the grounds without a bit of sleep. She hadn't believed him... until she saw the cave. One must've had to search carefully to discover such a place.

  They were 10 then. Over the years they held many meetings there for many clubs now forgotten. Many one person plays were put on in that cave. For an audience of one, shadows flashing on the wall as the firelight danced in the drafty air.

  She'd had her first kiss there. Though she was sure it wasn't his. He'd convinced her they needed to practice, for what if one day their spouses were appalled that they didn't know how to kiss? She doubted his logic, but he pestered her so much she finally gave in. They were 15 then.

  They were 17 when Kie acquired his scar. Reaching from his right eye almost to his ear. It was her fault and she knew it. He must've known it too. He never blamed her for it aloud. Never played on her guilt. He just took it and went on.

  They had been playing in an area they shouldn't have been in. They had invented a spying game, and it took place in the guards' area of the castle.

  It was daytime, but rainy and dark outside. It seemed like nighttime to them. At the time she was dressed like a boy, wearing Kie's clothing, too big for her, but cinched here and there. She had pulled her hair back out of the way, and hidden it under a funny cap they had for playing dress up.

  The game was simple. Each had a false dagger carved poorly from a stick. The guards quarters had more twists and turns and stairways than any other place at Kargid. This was why it must be played there. They parted at the entry way, each walking quietly. The objective was to sneak up on the other without them knowing until they were poked with a dagger stick.

  Mandra never won this game. She was determined to win it anyway. At least once. Her concentration was fierce as she tiptoed along a dark passageway. She was aware of every sound, but not aware of every presence.

  Sneaking around a dark corner, she was suddenly shocked to find a meaty hand reach out of the darkness and snatch her to the wall by her shirt. She was so surprised that only a peep escaped her lips before another meaty hand slapped itself over them.

  She could smell ale on these fingers, as well as the stench of an unbathed man. Her heart pounded and she struggled to get away, but the drunken guard only laughed. Kept calling her 'princess' and chuckling. Saying he wouldn't hurt her, such a pretty little thing.

  His mumbling may have been quiet, but not to the ear of a champion of the stick dagger game. She hadn't even heard his footsteps, but suddenly there he was, untangling her from this drunken fool.

  The guard mumbled in annoyance at this sudden forceful opposition. He may have been intoxicated, but he was still stronger than the two of them. Finally Kie, desperate to free her, leaned over and bit the man hard on the hand. He had to dig his teeth in for a long second before the pain registered in the man's mind and he yelled, "Ow!"

  He let his captive go as he swung his hand around and held it up to the light to check the wound. Sure enough, there were teeth marks... and blood. Kie was wiping his mouth and spitting as Mandra brushed herself off profusely and hid behind Kie.

  Kie grabbed her by the waist and pushed her in front of him as they walked away, to stay between her and the man. And now the man was angry. He cursed at his hand and then cursed at Kie as Kie pushed her forward and whispered loudly to her, "Run! Go to the cave!" She hesitated because he wasn't moving. "Now! Run!" he said again. He was so serious. She ran.

  Kie turned to face the man, one averaged sized young man against a cursing giant. He would not run. He never ran. He had told her so once.

  The last thing she saw was Kie standing squarely, ready for an attack as the man stumbled towards him.

  She was scared. More of Kie than of the guard. The stern way he had spoken scared her, as if she had been in more danger than she realized.

  Only later did she learn the rest of the story. The man had cursed and chided the boy, trying to taunt him into a fight he would've surely lost. Kie had one main rule when it came to fighting. He never threw the first punch. He stood his ground. He would not run, but he would not start it either.

  He could throw a punch with the best of them, as the guard soon discovered after a powerful sock to Kie's jaw. Kie belted him swiftly right in the lip. The guard, now truly angered, started swinging blindly at the boy, only half of his punches hitting anything.

  One of his swings made a permanent impression on the young man. The man's right hand had on it a ring that all of Eret's soldiers wore. It had the seal of honor on it. It was a gaudy lump of ragged iron with the shape of a lion pressed into it. It had sharp edges and Kie's skin felt the burn of this as it cut him from his eye outward.

  By now the man was tiring himself out with his mad swinging. Kie hit him in the stomach, then realized the guard was stumbling backwards onto the floor, seemingly exhausted and once again mumbling to himself, as if he had forgotten his opponent entirely.

  Kie stopped and stared at the fool lying back on the stone floor, passed out now. He stood there catching his breath and leaning against the wall.

  In the heat of the moment, he had felt nothing. Each hit came with a force that he could feel, but not a pain. Each hit woke up a rage inside him to fight harder, but pain was something he only felt after a fight was over. After his breathing slowed down, after his hands stopped shaking.

  Shaking his arms to restore their feeling, he walked quickly out of the maze of the guards' quarters, wary of every noise that might be another guard, returning from a watch.

  He made it out of the quarters safely and beg
an jogging along in the rain toward the cave. His arms still tingled from the excitement. His legs barely wanted to move under him. He wanted to collapse somewhere, anywhere. Just sit and rest, even to lie back in the grass with the rain pelting his face would have been nice.

  But he ran on, for her. She'd be frightened. He had to get to her. As he ran, he felt the rain hit his face. His right eye began to sting and he felt the sting trail across his face to his ear. At least that far. It hurt badly now as the rain slapped it mercilessly. He put a hand to his face and looked at the blood on his fingers when he pulled it away. He had always hated the sight of blood. He'd always made himself stomach it somehow, be a man.

  But he was weak from fighting. Cold from the rain. Tired from running. The pile of rocks was in sight. He barely managed to weave himself into the cave still on his feet. He entered it and saw the warm glow of the fire she had started.

  Her back was to him, but she spun around when she heard him in the entrance. He was catching his breath and had one hand on the cave wall to support himself. Her face had looked anxious when she turned to face him, but an expression of horror came over it as she caught sight of him standing there. Blood mixed with rain streamed down his beaten face, and trickled over his shirt, down his arm.

  She couldn't move. He reached a hand to his face once again and pulled it away to see it covered with blood. It was too much. He felt the ground come up to meet him as the world faded into blackness.

  ---

  Kie woke with a warm hand on his chest. His shirt had been taken off. She was leaning over him, pressing something to his face. His shirt, he realized it must have been. He groaned in agony as the pain of his injuries came back to him.

  "Oh, thank God!" she said as she fell on him and hugged him to her as best she could. He managed to put a tired arm around her as she cried into his shoulder. "Thank God!" she said again.

  He pulled his other arm around her and held her tightly as they lay there. His blood had gotten into her hair. He could see it out of the corner of his eye.