Chapter Eleven
All Good Things
I’d never known time to pass so quickly.
The days in Simnel seemed long and slow, languorous and full, and yet ‘days’ plural seemed to slip through our fingers faster than I could count them. It was irritating, because I didn’t want to leave, and for a number of reasons. Life in Simnel was like a bubble that defended me from the problems that existed elsewhere.
What did I have to face when I went back to the Gath and to the castle? I would have to admit to Balduin that I hadn’t killed Nicolo (he was bound to notice) and that I wasn’t going to. That would lead him to get in touch with the Guild, although they might already have sent out another assassin to finish the job that Taurus had been unable to complete. Either way, as soon as I rode into the Gath, I had a target on my back.
Those were pretty big worries, but looming above both of them was the fact that I had to tell Nicolo that Balduin was trying to kill him and, close as we’d become, I still wasn’t sure he’d believe me.
If he didn’t believe me, then our relationship would be over. And if he did believe me, then he’d no doubt want to know how I knew, and then I’d have to admit that almost everything I’d told him about myself had been a lie and that I was really an assassin sent to kill him. Again, that seemed like a courtship ender. Not only that, it seemed like a friendship ender too. Furthermore, I wondered if he might try to kill me . The chances of that seemed slim (I did think he cared for me enough that he wouldn’t attempt to end my life, but I didn’t know how he’d react to the truth). Hopefully, he would understand that I obviously no longer wanted to murder him…
There was also the boy in the cage to consider, the boy with the violet eyes. How was I going to go about saving him? And would I be able to reveal him to Nicolo, who would undoubtedly want proof of his existence if he did believe any of my story? Balduin would never allow Nicolo to see the boy and with Balduin’s guards constantly on duty, it wouldn’t be an easy feat of busting into his room.
Frankly, it was hard to see any happy endings in the direction of Woodfall Gath.
But it was more than that.
Here in Simnel, life was a fairy tale made of glass, and I was afraid that illusion would shatter when we returned. Even if it hadn’t been for all the other complications, I still would have worried that things between Nicolo and me, which had been so wonderfully perfect, couldn’t continue in the same way.
He’d been a different man since he’d left the Gath; what might happen when he returned? Would he go back to nights of drink and debauchery with Balduin? Would I become just another notch on an already over-notched bedpost? Could our courtship survive in the cold harsh world outside the bubble of Simnel? Would I return to being his squire and he, my master? Would he want me to refer to him as ‘sir’ and ‘master’ again? The thought made me sick.
I didn’t want to go. And it seemed to me that Nicolo didn’t either. Though we didn’t talk about it (each probably hoping that if we ignored the looming date of our departure, it might just vanish), I was sure that he too had multiple reasons.
His mother was the obvious one; he’d found her again, and they had, almost seamlessly resumed the roles of mother and child in a way that was touching to see. Of course, he didn’t want to lose her again. He had also, quite unexpectedly, gained a whole family, something he’d never had. Though he had been, to some degree part of the royal family, he hadn’t always been well-treated, as I’d learned. My sense was that he also feared what he might become when he returned to Woodfall Gath.
The Old Queen had said some harsh things to him about what his time in the Great Castle had made him, accusations that had stung him at the time, but which now I thought he understood better. He didn’t want to go back to being ‘The Unbreakable’. Maybe it was just pure optimism on my part, but I also thought he feared returning might change things between us. He had to recognize the bubble of Simnel, and I imagined he wondered how our unlikely romance could exist outside it.
The fact that he wanted our romance was enough for me (and I was fairly sure he did want it to continue, because he hadn’t said anything to the contrary).
But for both of us, it wasn’t a choice. We had to return.
Even if I hadn’t been determined to follow Nicolo, I would have to go back to help the boy with the violet eyes. And Nicolo had to go back because he’d never allow even the chance of anything happening to Balduin.
If only I could tell him that his friend had already taken precautions against his disease. But the same objections stood in the way; would Nicolo believe me? Would he want proof? How would I get that proof? All the same cycle of arguments eating their own tails.
No. We would return to the Gath, and then we would deal with each event as it hit us. It would be my sad duty to shake the foundations of Nicolo’s world, including his friendship with Balduin. I didn’t want to do that here—nothing could happen to taint the wonder of Simnel.
The length of time Nicolo could be away from Balduin before the prince’s condition began to manifest again, gave us a deadline, and I watched it creep closer with grim inevitability.
“It will be different when we go back.”
We hadn’t been talking about the subject, in fact, we’d been splitting logs for Ranolf—me putting them in place on the block and Nicolo, stripped to the waist, his muscles gleaming with effort, taking an axe to them.
“To the castle?” I asked. “To Woodfall Gath?”
Nicolo nodded, then grunted with effort as he swung the axe, chunks of wood dropping to the ground. “It will be different.”
“I was hoping,” I chanced a shy smile and Nicolo smiled back.
But he also shook his head. “Not what I meant. That goes without saying; of course, things will be different between you and me to how they were before. I don’t know if you want to remain my squire (I’ll never find a better one). You don’t have to but… I find it hard to picture you as a lady of leisure.”
“I’d rather stay your squire.” That was the truth, because I couldn’t see me as a lady of leisure either. In fact, I couldn’t see me as a lady period.
“Good.”
“Just maybe stop threatening to beat me.” I laughed. So did he.
“I would never have followed through on those threats.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to.”
“That’s true,” admitted Nicolo with a shrug and another smile. “But in my defense, you absolutely deserved it.”
“So, if you weren’t talking about us when you said things would be different,” I was a little hesitant, “what were you talking about? What will be different?” Was there any chance he was talking about his friendship with Balduin? Could the scales have finally dropped from his eyes and he’d seen what anyone else could have told him; that the prince was a spoiled wastrel with a streak of cruelty wider than the river Pike?
“The Court,” Nicolo answered, firmly. “Things have become so staid and turgid there. It’s because the Old Queen has so successfully brought all the districts under control. I’m not complaining about the lack of wars,” he added hastily. “Queen Nell has done an extraordinary job in keeping the peace and we are all the better for it. But peace means that you’ve got a bunch of people who have titles like ‘duke’ and ‘baron’—that are theoretically military titles—doing nothing. So, they sit about, getting fat and indulging themselves.”
“You want to give them something to do?” I suggested.
“Damn right.” The axe fell, splitting another log.
“I can’t see Duke Prentis stripping to the waist and splitting logs.” I paused. “Actually, I don’t want to see that.”
Nicolo laughed. “Nobody wants to see that. And the only question would be whether he had a heart attack first or accidentally cut off his own foot. But there are things they could do that don’t require this sort of physical activity. Look around you,” he threw out an expansive arm at the village. “So much going on, getting done. And yet every day is full. And if, by some strange chance, there’s nothing to do then they don’t sit around, they find something to do; something for them, for their children, for their neighbors. There is an ethos of making things better for the community. That’s what I want.”
“I don’t think the court needs any lessons in how to make things better for themselves,” I joked, “but I’m guessing that’s not what you mean.”
“Correct.” The axe rose and fell with more vigor as he talked, as if he were getting fired up as he spoke. “When I return, things are going to change, Charlotte. I’ve spent years building power in the court and I’ve used it to protect Balduin but for little else.”
“You also used it to get drunk and bed ladies.”
“I was hoping we could just breeze past that,” said Nicolo with another laugh. This time, I didn’t laugh with him. “But you’re right.” Up and down went the axe. “I’m no better than them. Maybe I’m worse than some. But if I can change, then so can they. There are people throughout the Gath who lack the basic necessities that the court take for granted; fresh water, education, a doctor who knows what he’s about. There are places that are crumbling and places where the streets are broken to hell. There are enough little jobs to last through the Queen’s reign and Balduin’s too. All that leisure time we have; why not direct some of it in that direction? Why not use the energy we spend on wine, women and song to help people?”
“I can’t think of a good reason not to.” Maybe it was because he was shirtless and doing homespun manual labor while making this epic speech, but to me, he looked like an old-fashioned folk hero come to life. “Although I think you may have trouble convincing some members of the court that the common people are more important than wine, women and song.”
Nicolo shrugged. “I’m not proposing they give up wine, women and song, Charlotte. I’m not giving up wine or song (although I am reducing ‘women’ to ‘woman’).”
“As well you should,” I answered with a grin.
“As well I should,” he repeated before returning to his point. “If they each do something , if everyone reduced their wine, women and song budget by just ten percent, then it could still make a real difference to those less fortunate in the Gath. Let’s be honest, most of them are too old to even remember what women are for—they just show up for wine and song and hope that one of these days they remember.”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
“So do I,” Nicolo grinned. “And I’m sure I can sell Balduin on it.” That part I doubted very much, especially because the only form in which Balduin was expecting Nicolo to return was as a spirit.
Furthermore, how would these plans of his be affected by the revelation I was going to drop on him?
“Really?”
“I know you think Balduin’s interested in nothing but his own pleasure. But he’ll surprise you.”
Not as much as he’s going to surprise you .
It was most unfortunate, and I hated the fact that Balduin’s disloyalty was going to cleave Nicolo’s heart in two.
Conversations like this one gave me some hope for the future, though—they gave me hope that Nicolo might cling to the man he seemed to have become out here in the country, the man he’d perhaps always been, hidden beneath the one he had to be in order to survive in court.
I was also glad to see how happy such plans made Nicolo. He’d always been a man without direction, without loyalty, without purpose, other than to protect Balduin. That had made Nicolo selfish, because what else should he be? He had no people to call his own and no purpose other than to exist, so all he did was survive and enjoy himself. Now he saw that he could do something more, be something more. He saw the value of others around him, and that discovery made him happier than he’d ever been in his self-indulgence.
But such conversations also made me afraid, because of what I could do to ruin them. Would these castles in the sky that he was keenly building survive the knowledge that his closest friend had hired his lover to kill him?
***
Alas, the dreaded day came.
The night before, the whole village turned out for a goodbye party organized by Ranolf. He was a good man, and I knew Nicolo was grateful to him for making his mother happy in the years since she’d lost her firstborn.
Ranolf, for his part, would never stop being grateful to his new stepson for saving his youngest child; Peri’s ankle had healed and he no longer even limped (except when he was in trouble when he used it to get some sympathy). Cady too was grateful, and had stopped blaming herself after I sat down for another talk with her. She and I had become firm friends and, though she hid it as a girl on the verge of womanhood will, she hated that I was leaving.
“I will come back,” I told her.
“Okay.” She shrugged as if my leaving didn’t matter, then added. “Please do, Charlotte. I will miss you.”
I couldn’t help but think that if I were to marry Nicolo, then Cady would become my own sister. Though I had many ‘sisters’ in the Guild, one who was actually family would be a novelty. But, of course, that was looking very far ahead, and I was afraid to do that. Best to live in the moment; enjoy the here and now, because you never knew what lay ahead.
There was food and drink and music and dancing. The children were allowed to stay up late, but still grumbled when they were eventually ushered off to bed. The adults stayed up by the fire, talking little, but appreciating the silences and the good company.
Family.
A little word that meant a lot, and a word that had never been part of my life nor that of Nicolo. In the short time we’d been here, family had taken on immense significance.
Finally, we all shuffled off to bed, and Nicolo and I made love one last time in the attic room that felt more like a home than anywhere else I’d ever lived.
The morning was harder. We’d discussed leaving early to avoid the goodbyes, but that just seemed to be cheating us all. A goodbye can be painful, but worth the pain.
There were tears from the children and a firm handshake from Ranolf.
“Mind how you go. And don’t be strangers.”
I saw the tears glistening too in the eyes of Maria, whom we’d come here to find, though in his wildest dreams Nicolo could never have imagined how wonderful this homecoming would be.
“You’ll look after him, won’t you?” whispered Maria, as she hugged me. “He’s still my little boy.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised. “If he’ll let me.”
For a moment, she looked searchingly at my face, as if she were aware that there was something I was holding back, something I was keeping from her. But she forgot it as her son came to say his goodbye.
I left them in their close embrace and went to mount Amber, whom Cady had been holding for me, once again trying to pretend that none of this affected her because she was so very grown up.
“I will be back,” I heard Nicolo say. “Now that I know where you are, you just try to keep me away.”
“You always have a home here, Nicolo,” Maria whispered through her tears.
“I know, Mother. But there are responsibilities I have that I can’t just walk away from. People who need me back at the Gath.”
Maria drew back and put a hand to his cheek. “My son.”
Nicolo smiled. “I can’t thank you enough. It’s as if… I feel born again. A different man. And only you could have made that happen.”
His mother smiled. “I’m so proud of you.”
Nicolo gave a rueful smile. “You shouldn’t be. I’ve done nothing to deserve your pride, Mother. But I’m going to start. When I see you next, then you can be proud of me. I promise.”
“Nicolo,” Maria shook her head. “I will always be proud of you, that’s just what a mother does.” Her gaze flashed past her son to where I sat on Amber, waiting to go and pretending not to eavesdrop. “And I’m proud to know you have found a wonderful woman, Nicolo.”
He looked at me then back to his mother. “You’re right about that.”
***
Things had been quiet between us as we rode away from Simnel, both processing the sadness of parting and the anxiety of returning to the Gath, “So, you can be away from Prince Balduin for up to a month (ish) before his condition starts to come back?”
“Correct,” said Nicolo.
“Do you have to be back a certain length of time before you can go away again? Or could you just stick your head in, say ‘Hi, Prince Balduin’ and then ride off for another month?”
Nicolo smiled, wanly. “I’m afraid it’s the first option.”
I’d been hoping we could just drop in to the Gath, see Balduin for the briefest few minutes, then ride off again. That had been my one last hope that I might yet sidestep the most awkward and potentially disastrous conversation of my life. But, even if such had been the case, it wouldn’t have removed the issue that was the trapped boy—something I had to address, no matter what.
“Based on the experiments the Old Queen put me through, back when I was younger,” Nicolo went on, “for however long I’m away, I need to be back twice as long for Balduin’s disease to go back into full remission.”
“Then you need to be back in the Great Castle, around the prince for at least… two months before you could leave again?”
“Yes, but it will go quickly, Charlotte,” smiled Nicolo, confirming that once the two months were up, he was definitely heading back to Simnel—a man did not give up his long-lost mother so easily. “And one month here, two months there…” he rocked his head from side to side. “That doesn’t sound so impossible. It could work. Long term, I mean.”
My heart bled for him. I loved that he was thinking this way, that he had a future planned out in which he could be there for his friend and for his family while changing the Gath for the better. It was all incredible.
And none of it was going to happen.