The Malicarn #4
Kreek was going to unveil the dragon rider to the people.
When, Buck did not know. Exactly what he hoped would happen Buck was also unsure.
Would the rider join their cause? Would other dragons arrive to support him?
Would Gregorian raise the Queen’s Arms, march out to oppose them?
Kreek was a mighty warrior, a wizard even, he knew much about magic and the old ways.
But Buck knew some things, too. He knew that no one would be truly free as long as the old wizard roamed, as long as he held sway over court and queen.
Magic could never be returned to the people until they took down the wizard.
And the best way to draw out the wizard would be to take the queen.
Buck’s redemption was here. He abandoned his work at the mill.
Yes, that would not endear him to future patrons, but it did not matter.
Not if he was the man who took down Gregorian.
Once the queen’s retinue left the mill he followed behind, far enough not to be seen, hiding on the side of the road, in brush and behind trees.
That night, as the guards slept in the inn, he tried to scale the tower in the predawn hours, but it was too slick, too hard to get a foothold, and some busybody passerby looked up at him and shouted, “You up there? What are you getting at?” Buck had to run and hide before the guards came.
It was for the best. How would he ever capture the queen with the wizard himself present?
Better to take her alone. He followed again, as the queen and her guards traveled up the road to the mountain.
Buck kept himself hidden in the woods, off the road, but made too many sounds, spooking the knight’s horses more than once.
But you are a persistent one, Buck! Yes, you are!
Her guard were few. They were trying to move her in secret. A good plan, a safe plan. But they did not count on Buck Douglas, son of Frank Douglas the hero of the Wizarding War. Hero’s blood flowed through Buck. He would not be deterred.
The queen arrived at the Mountain Keep, a small castle in the hills.
Buck had never been there before, but he was not scared.
That night, it rained. He decided to use the storm as cover, to find if the keep had weaknesses, easy places to sneak in.
He stalked around the grounds, climbing trees and low walls.
Finally, he made it to the east side of the main tower and noticed a faint light in the window.
He climbed, the rain and wind drowning out his groans.
He reached the window and peered in, saw the young queen reading a book by candlelight. He could grab her now!
But the queen looked up, straight at the window. Did she see Buck? He fell backward, a long way into the bushes, then scrambled away.
Better to wait, see if the gate opened, find his way in.
He set up a permanent sentry post, just south of the keep, over a little ridge where he could see the entire complex.
He could wait here. He didn’t need food, he didn’t need shelter.
He had all he needed. The righteousness of a cause.
The opportunity to prove himself. He was not the failure of a failure.
He was the man who would save the Malicarn.
3.
A large old structure carved into the side of a rocky hill, the Mountain Keep was colder and drier than Gregorian’s tower and much quieter than the castle in Kingstown.
A small staff handled the domestic chores, and Kellington’s men supplemented a garrison of only a dozen knights.
Hannah realized she did not mind the slower pace of life on the mountain, which didn’t include daily inquests from the populace or endless meetings with her advisors about taxes and grain levies.
She did still have a tutor—a monk named Abbott who lived in and maintained the library on the keep’s upper floor.
Abbott had a better sense of humor than Fennick, frequently joking about his inevitable promotion one day to become Abbot Abbott. When Hannah walked into the library, he was reading a large tome and seemed surprised to see her, having forgotten her company’s arrival earlier that afternoon.
“Ah, my young queen! Any volumes you wish to peruse today?”
“Yes, I would like to see what texts about dragons you have.”
“Dragons, hmm. Not so many. We do have a bestiary. Let me see what else there might be. How long will you be at the keep?” Abbott stood up and began inspecting the shelves of books behind him.
“It is hard to say. Until Kingstown is less … distressed.”
“Ah, well, do not be afraid! Old Abbott and his books are here to keep you company!”
Abbott did not find any books about dragons, so instead offered her several medical tomes.
One was on humors, which Hannah distrusted, remembering Gregorian scoffing about the subject once.
An anatomy book was interesting, so she kept it, as well as one about herbal and liquid remedies.
Hannah found a volume on astronomy and the stars, which she decided to borrow as well.
She thanked Abbott and returned to her chambers with the books.
That night it finally rained. The storm became fierce and windy.
This, alas, did not dim the nighttime sounds of the Queen’s Guard carousing in the courtyard.
The new ale from the masons kept their spirits lively, and the guards held impromptu boxing matches.
Kellington received a black eye, and another guard broke his wrist.
Hannah left them to their amusements as she read in her chambers, comfortable but modest quarters in the keep’s east tower.
She switched between the illustrated stories from Gregorian and the books from Abbott’s library.
The medical volumes were mostly nonsense, as Hannah expected.
Cures for gangrene by boiling flowers and cutting out flesh.
If such remedies had ever worked, Hannah assumed it was because of luck.
But if she was going to be stuck in the keep for the foreseeable future, she might as well learn what she could.
The Malicarn needed more knowledgeable minds.
One time she had inquired to Sanderson about setting up a scientific academy at one of the monasteries, but Sanderson shook his head and muttered about the cost. Hannah would have to be more forthright once the regency ended.
She knew that was the only way she could make real changes.
Once their revelry subsided, Kellington and his men would stay in the outer guardhouse, partly to keep an eye on the road during the storm and also to nurse morning hangovers out of sight of the queen.
The serving staff slept as they usually did in the lofts above the kitchens, a separate series of buildings adjacent to the keep beyond the courtyard.
Only Abbott, deaf enough even without the wind, and Hannah herself remained in the keep.
Hannah read until late, sitting at the small wooden desk in the corner of her room with the book of anatomy by candlelight.
Her back was to her chamber’s door, the only sound the wind rattling outside.
Hannah paused at one point, looking out the window at the dark shadows of tree branches swaying, when she noticed what appeared to be two dim lights, side by side, floating just outside.
In the swirling rain they were surrounded by a deep, round shadow.
Only when Hannah lifted her candle did she see them in full.
Not lights but eyes. A face. Dark, sharp locks and an angular chin.
Hannah thought she recognized the mason from the mill, but then the shadow slipped back, falling away from view.
Hannah jumped out of her bed and ran over to the window, but there was no sign of anyone.
She slept the rest of the night with a knife under her pillow.
In the morning Hannah walked out to the guard’s quarters. Kellington was slumped in a chair inside by a fire, chewing on a piece of meat and holding his head.
“I think I saw someone last night,” Hannah said.
“Eh, yeah, me too. Visions of Mary Alice. Most beautiful girl in the valley.”
“No, I’m serious, Sir Kellington. I think someone was climbing up to my chambers. They were at my window.”
Kellington sat up and groaned. “Had you too much ale?”
“No. You know I did not.”
“Right, right. Yes, well, it is concerning. Maybe it was the same bloke we saw climbing the wizard’s tower in the Old Village. Wants an audience with his queen, or something. I’ll send guards to look for footprints.”
“Can you post some men around the keep tonight? Perhaps take a night off from the ale?”
Kellington rubbed the side of his head. “Believe me, Your Majesty, I never wish to drink again.”
The skies cleared and by afternoon the sun was bright above them. Shortly before supper, the watchman’s horn blared and Hannah saw Kellington and the other guards rush toward the battlements above the gate. They pointed to something in the distance, down the mountain.
“Someone has lit a beacon,” Kellington told Hannah later, when he came to report. “Which means trouble in Kingstown.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Hard to say, Your Majesty. We haven’t gotten any messages sent our way.”
“They use the beacons for war, I thought.”
“Usually, yes.”
“Should we leave?”
Kellington thought the guard and staff should stay in the keep, but the stablemaster drove the carriage back to the city to find out what was happening.
The rest of the day passed without any more information.
No riders approached, and the road before the keep remained empty.
Hannah felt ill at ease. Something was wrong.
They ate all together in the keep’s hall, though without the drinking and singing from the previous night.