Chapter 7
The training grounds were located on the outskirts of camp between a row of tents and the dark forest surrounding it. The metallic scent of blood mixed with sweat hung heavy in the air.
There were soldiers everywhere.
Some ran a circuit in loose tunics. Others were hauling sandbags in various positions.
Most surrounded a circle of cleared dirt.
One barked command from Pierce had the crowd clearing a path so we could walk to the edge.
Many of the men offered him respectful nods as we passed.
It was obvious he commanded a large amount of respect among the soldiers.
Inside the ring, two men circled each other, neither wore their metal armor, only leather underclothes.
Despite their lack of protection, they played a dangerous game, fighting with very real swords.
They ducked and weaved around each other, metal clashing with each blocked blow.
Neither hit the other. Never breaking skin. Never drawing blood.
The dark stains on the dirt indicated it wasn’t always the case.
Eleanor bounced beside me, awestruck by the fighting dance. In contrast, each clash of metal made me flinch, the violence of it all sending my stomach roiling.
I hated it. I had experienced firsthand the result of such brutality. Once the adrenaline subsided, you were left with pain and death and a hollowness in your chest you couldn’t escape.
When it became too much, I focused on the crowd skirting the edges of the ring rather than the men inside it. While many of the soldiers cheered or groaned as either opponent gained an upper hand, others stood in careful, silent consideration, studying each movement the men made.
“Each fight is a lesson to another,” Pierce said, noticing my gaze. “Using what they have learned to adjust their techniques, to improve their own skills.”
“How do you know you’ve learned enough?” I asked, giving him my attention to avoid the violent display.
“You don’t. Every opponent you face has their own lessons and experiences. They are each different. You leave each fight having learned something knew.” Gentle reverence laced every word he spoke, his passion for his position clear.
“Will you fight?” Eleanor asked, not taking her eyes off the clashing swords.
“I’m on duty,” Pierce grunted without a glance her way, and Eleanor rolled her eyes.
I returned my attention to the ring and caught sight of someone who stood out as much as we did on the other side. A man dressed far too lavishly to be a training soldier, his bright-orange hair standing out against a sea of brown and blond, clashing against the burnt orange of his tunic.
Harkin, the Lord of the Western Territory.
Our eyes caught and he grinned broadly, then picked his way through the crowd, heading toward us. Eleanor sucked in a sharp breath when she saw who was approaching.
“Is he coming here?” she whisper-shouted, and I felt more than saw Pierce stiffen beside me. When I glanced at our guard, his expression was blank and focused entirely on the ring. Before I could respond to Eleanor, Harkin reached us.
“Well, hello. Lord Antonis Harkin, at your service.” He bent into a bow, one giving far more respect than our station deserved.
“My lord,” I murmured, and we both responded in kind, dropping into a deep curtsy.
He grinned again, highlighting the freckles dusting his nose. “Just Harkin, please.”
“Adelia, and this is my sister, Eleanor.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. The king didn’t mention his most esteemed guests were quite so beautiful.” Eleanor giggled when he sent a wink her way, and I narrowed my eyes. “What brings you fine young ladies to the training ground.”
“A lady must find entertainment somewhere,” my sister said, twirling a strand of her hair and stunning me into silence. I had never heard her speak like that before or witnessed her around her peers with the hours I worked each day at the tavern. I didn’t like it, not at all.
Harkin’s grin widened. “That, she must. Have you been in camp long?”
“A few days, but this is by far the most exciting thing to do.”
Harkin chuckled. “You enjoy the fighting?”
Eleanor leaned close, as if she were about to tell him a secret. “I once dreamt of becoming an Eniferium Priestess, before I realized they were only a myth.”
Pierce’s head snapped in her direction in clear surprise, a sentiment I agreed with since she had never told me that before.
“You would make a fine warrior for the Taker of Death,” Harkin stated, with another wink, eliciting more giggling from my sister. “Have you explored much?”
“We haven’t left camp yet, and I’m itching to see more. Perhaps if I had a guide …”
Pierced released a quiet huff.
I crossed my arms and stared at my sister. What in the Gods did she think she was doing?
“Well, I would be honored. Shall we walk?” Harkin offered his elbow, eyes sparkling. She giggled again and reached to take it, but I snapped my arm out, stopping her in her tracks. I’d let this play out long enough.
“Where exactly would you be taking her?” I demanded. Lord or not, he had another thing coming if he thought I would just stand by and let him flirt with my sister.
“Lia!” she hissed in my ear through clenched teeth. I ignored her, keeping my narrowed eyes on the young lord.
Harkin was unperturbed, smiling broadly. “I only wish to regale your delightful sister with stories of Ferveem Forest. There are many places worth visiting within the trees. You can, of course, accompany us, Miss Adelia.”
“Ferveem Forest?” Was that where we were?
All my mother’s stories about the forest were filled with magical history.
Off the coast of the Arderm Isles, it’s said the forest was a living, breathing thing and to enter the trees was to risk waking terrible spirits and cursing your family for generations.
It’s theorized that when magic died all those years ago, it happened deep within the trees. Given the story Terym had told me, it made sense. There was a serious history here, a deep magic thrumming beneath the surface.
“Not everything you’ve heard is true. It’s quite safe.” Harkin offered his elbow to Eleanor again, and she took it before I could stop her, so I had no choice but to follow as the young lord led her away. Pierce stayed close to my side, his lips pressed tight.
“There is one place in particular I am eager to see. Would you like to join me?” Harkin asked my sister.
“Into the forest?” she asked, eyes alight.
“Of course. My father told me a story as a boy, about a ruined castle within the trees.”
“I don’t think it’s safe,” I interrupted, my mother’s stories spinning in my mind. She’d always told me our fairy tales were based in fact, it was just difficult to determine which parts. “Don’t they say the trees send people mad?”
Perhaps that was why those women were sent into insanity, something about the forest had sent them that way.
Harkin chuckled. “Not at all, my men have been in many times with no problem. It’s quite safe, I assure you.”
“Oh, Lia, please.” Eleanor turned around and grabbed my hand. “We’ve hardly explored, and I so want to see the castle. Could you imagine what it would have been like to live here?”
“Your guard can join us of course,” Harkin added, gesturing to where Pierce trailed behind us.
“Like I would leave them alone with you,” he grumbled, so low I doubted the young lord could hear.
I looked to him, seeking confirmation. “Will it be safe?”
“Many of my men have traveled inside with no incident, miss. I don’t believe any harm would come to you from going into the trees.”
Terym had said I was to travel into the forest tomorrow to break the curse, perhaps I could find something within the trees that would hint at how I was to do it. “Okay, we’ll go.”
Eleanor squealed, and we followed Harkin to the edges of the camp, where several soldiers in gleaming armor and capes of burnt orange waited.
Harkin’s men held several horses ready, and Eleanor quickly mounted, assisted by a stone-faced Pierce.
I was beginning to think he didn’t like Torglea’s youngest lord.
Once we’d all mounted, we followed a lightly worn path between the everlasting flowers and the dark forest, led by one of Harkin’s men.
“Perhaps tomorrow we could travel to the village?” Eleanor called over her shoulder, her horse prancing as it fed off her energy. “Meline says they gather in the streets to play music and dance every evening.”
“I can’t.”
Eleanor’s eyes found mine at my reply, and they tightened. I sent her the biggest smile I could muster. The last thing I wanted was for her to be worried about me; I was doing enough of that for the both of us.
“I would be happy to accompany you, Miss Eleanor,” Harkin offered after a moment of silence. Eleanor’s smile widened, her eyes brightening at the idea of another adventure.
“Thank you, my lord, I would be most grateful,” she said, and he winked, making her blush. “What is the story your father told? About the castle ruins?”
“It once belonged to a line of mighty kings.” He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the saddle.
“Long ago, when our lands were one, the kings ruled from this forest in a magnificent castle. It survived many sieges, the walls unbreachable. Only when the last king left it abandoned did it crumble.”
“Why was it abandoned?” my sister asked, her body angling closer to Harkin’s as she took in every word.
“A great evil cursed the land, the very forest itself. People chased away by haunting visions and screams on the wind.” Harkin winked again. I was starting to think he had a twitch, but Eleanor let out another of those girlish giggles.
Her fast-growing interest was concerning. He was a lord of Torglea, as close to the king as one could be. That alone was reason enough to keep our distance. They had no future together, not if I could help it. He smiled at her, eyes twinkling at her interest in his stories.
As we reached the edge of the forest, Eleanor urged her horse forward, twisting in the saddle to see within before we even made it to the trees.
“Your sister’s passion for adventure is admirable,” Harkin remarked, and Eleanor halted her horse so suddenly she lurched forward. I pressed my lips into a thin line to avoid scolding her. Some habits die hard.
“You don’t approve?” he asked when I didn’t respond.
I glanced at the young lord, his round, freckled face puzzled as he stared openly back at me. “She’s young, easily distracted. She would get lost following a butterfly given the chance.”
“Finding beauty in small things isn’t a weakness,” he murmured. I agreed, but that didn’t stop Eleanor from being far too trusting. Too na?ve. Not yet corrupted by life-changing truths and burdens. She deserved it though—to be free. Because she did see beauty in small things. In everything.
Even if what Harkin said was true, I worried Eleanor’s outlook would fail her in the end.