Chapter one

Nox stood on the hill looking out over the land which separated her from what felt was the rest of the world. Why had her parents ever lived in such a place? She had to admit that growing up surrounded by the boundaries of the castle wasn’t too bad, as her father said, it was for her own safety, so she by no means argued. Thinking back on it now, she knew that it wouldn’t have accomplished anything. Her father was not the type of man that would back down on a decision at the thought of causing his only daughter and child displeasure. The man was stubborn but she loved him deeply. Ensuring that she could fight as well as any man if not superior left her to ponder whether or not, that maybe was why she still found herself lacking a husband or children to speak of. Not that she never had men in her life, but it never seemed to venture further than a kiss and a sneaky cuddle in the stables.

Smiling to herself Nox realized that they were more than likely terrified to approach her. Which in a way she was thankful for? She hadn’t yet decided. Her male friends all seemed to connect to her like the sister they never had, which she was more than comfortable to tolerate it, considering any uninvited attention was met with a very antisocial and an unfriendly behavior from her adopted kin. Besides, why would a woman settle for being dictated to by a man, whom she could lay flat on his back without a second’s deliberation? Her father was right to leave her to choose a husband for herself; it definitely saved him the arguments that would come with forcing her. Unfortunately, she didn’t really get to know her mother. Having died when she was too young resulted in her not remember the important things between mother and daughter. But even so she felt she had been old enough to remember her smile, to know she would have approved of her father’s decision if she had of lived. Never thinking the day would come when she would be looked upon to take her father’s place, left a sickening feeling deep in the pit of her stomach which had worsened over a previous couple of days. He died too young and left a lot of things unfinished, even though he had told her it would fall to her when he died someday, she never really thought the day would come. ‘Not this soon damn it, it was too soon.’ Thinking of it now, it made her hands sweat, and her heart accelerated with anticipation. Could she be the leader her father expected of her? Would his men look at her with pity, and maybe even distrust that she was forced into a position she wasn’t ready for? So many questions ran through her head, making her dizzy.

“Damn it, I know the land, the people and I’ve fought with these men since I was a child. Why would they not accept me? Nox said loudly but didn’t care if anyone heard, she was stressed beyond the point of thinking straight. Beginning to feel the pressure, she of all people hated the feeling of losing control. They trusted her with their lives in battle, of all the times they would have to trust her now. Clenching her jaws at the thought of any of these men thinking her Inadequate, made her blood boil. She could relieve them of their swords as fast as any other. They helped teach her to fight; they must know she’s ready. Relaxing she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and leaned her head back towards the sun’s heat. Opening them sometime later, she took another look out over the land that would now be hers. Nox finally realized just what her father had seen, when he looked out the day he became a leader. Her heart never failed to swell with the fondness she felt when she thought of Mickel. More than just a father to her, he was her protector, a loyal friend and always the man she could depend on. It would be a great man indeed that would take his place in her heart. She could hear her father’s voice, ‘A man will not choose you, but when you choose him, may every star be with him, for he’ll need to be a better man than me.’ She smiled at the memory. She would have to make her way back soon but the thoughts of it didn’t appeal to her; she was enjoying the peace and quiet. Already today she had to settle an argument over meat and a child’s bad behavior. Being pulled in all directions was making her feel exhausted, but it also made her speculate how her father did it. ‘Surely he never let himself get caught up in such mediocre things.’ She was getting angry.

“A child’s behavior indeed,” she said as she kicked a stone as hard as she could. She agreed with Maggie about the meat, it certainly wasn’t cooked through, and the whole castle would be sick by morning. She decided to have a stern talk with the chef about his drinking so early in the morning while preparing food. ‘Why can Maggie not sort the man out? The man is her husband, surely, she can handle him, and the child in question was young Tressin, her only son and definitely his father’s son,’ she thought to herself only then recalled how difficult the man was with drink in his veins.

“Just breathe Nox,” she whispered to herself taking a deep much-needed breath. The castle was buzzing with anticipation. They would have a feast tonight to formally name her as the new leader of Arella. Never before has there been a woman to take this place until today, and it made her feel a bit giddy and sick to her stomach all at the same time. There would be many who would not agree with such a decision, as she had one male relative, but he never stepped forward to voice his opinion or disapproval on the matter, which of course gave her a bolt of satisfaction. He genuinely did believe that she has what it takes. After all, she might look like her mother but she was her father’s daughter.

Making her way back through the field, she stopped to look at what was now hers’. The castle from a distance was an intimidating structure to gaze upon. Its stone walls towered high on both sides, breaking off into twin towers, which were coupled together by the wall branched straight across the vast wooden gates. The windows were of all different sizes and shapes. While the stained glass left shards of color running along the walls, and in every direction. She loved to watch them as a child. To the East of the castle, there was a huge array of color from the shrubs which to her astonishment were still in bloom.

The garden was full of Linnaea Borealis, her mother’s favorite. Her father had told her how every morning when in bloom, her mother would be up before the castle woke to pick and place them throughout. Nox looked upon them with great satisfaction and a sadness, that it was only in a story late at night she had been told this, by her father who adored speaking of such things. This led onto a well-preserved gravel path, bordered by a stone wall no higher than knee level. Even though the wall was low, the shrubbery lining its dullness always offered a chance of privacy. A place to escape, relax and most of all to hide when she felt the need. As she grew closer, she spotted the stables. ‘My sanctuary’ she reflected affectionately with a smile.

They were attractive buildings, covered throughout by ivy adding to the atmosphere of the whole surrounding area of the gardens and training area. Unexpectedly she heard a yell that could only mean one thing, young Tressin had got into the stables again. The child loved the horses but one of these days he was going to get himself killed. Picking up her pace she turned the corner and walked straight into the child, who was in a great rush to get away from his father. Trying to give him her best you’re in trouble look, he took a step backward away from her, making her feel a pang of sympathy for frightening him. Nox was never one for keeping to the rules set out by her own father, so she couldn’t find it in her to punish him, let alone think of a single chastisement for him. Instead, she bent down and seized him gently by the shoulders.

“Never lose your sense of wonder for the world is exciting and you need to take pleasure in it all. Cause trouble, for that’s what you will remember,” her smile grew wide as she looked into the innocence of a child’s eyes, but saw the devilment which they held. Yes, his mother and father had their hands full. “Go and assist your mother Tressin, and tomorrow,” she paused and looking around her, then playfully rubbed the top of his head. “Then tomorrow drive your father crazy.”

“Yes, lady Nox,” he sang as his eyes grew wide with the anticipation of the trouble, he may be capable of causing. At this the both of them laughed loudly, drawing the attention of passersby, making her feel like she was a child herself being reprimanded for misbehavior. Thinking she should at least look to be dealing with him, she stood up, pointed her finger in the direction of the castle, and told him to “Go!” in her most stern voice which seemed to impress those waiting to see the action she would take. Giving Tressin a sly wink, he ran off and she continued towards the stables. She was left wondering if her father would have been as lenient. Only this also got her wondering if it was being a woman was the reason behind her softness in dealing with the children around the castle. “Surely not,” she said out loud enough to cringe at her own voice. “He’s barely able to hold up a sword, but damn it he could be killed messing around in there.” She stopped walking realizing she was still talking to herself, but the bloody child had her questioning herself again. She would really need to think about what to do with him.

Quickening her pace and replacing her inadequate feelings with excitement at the thought of seeing Snowflake. Walking now with determination, she had a job to do, and more importantly, had to look to be doing it to the best of her ability. Besides tomorrow when young Tressin is driving his father crazy she’ll be nowhere nearby. ‘He will bloody kill me.’

Entering the stables, Hakan was standing looking flustered by everything that had taken place. Hakan her first in command, at the wishes of her father on his death bed, was a fine man, who towered over her. He was a perfect choice and besides who was she to disagree with the wishes of a dying man. She trusted him with her life, he was her cousin after all. They were extremely close, he never lied to her, he was more than trustworthy and that was all she needed or required, only there was something that seemed to be irritating him since the days of their last visitor. He had been a tall handsome man with deep-set blue eyes which to her were always smiling, but to Hakan held something that he couldn’t trust. Nox hadn’t asked why things had been so strained between them both, and even now she wasn’t sure was the time to ask, nor would it ever be, after all, the man with the smiling eyes had not returned since.

“Yes, I know, I’ll make him a stable boy that should keep him out of trouble. It should make him happy in the long run, which will result in fewer headaches for me,” she said before Hakan could say a word.

“Hmm, could work I suppose,” he replied rubbing his head still looking at the mess.

“I should have made him come with me to clean up. If I’d known how bad it was, I’d have reddened his backside for him,” realizing she sounded like her father she laughed making Hakan look at her as if she were crazy. Waving her hand at him, she began the tedious chore of cleaning up Tressin’s mess. The last time this happened she had walked into the stable to the sound of a child’s laughter. There he was, legs in the air at the back of the hay, giggling so hard he snorted with merriment, and there was Snowflake licking his face. The horse was as bloody bad. Telling Hakan to head back to the castle to check on the plans for tomorrow’s journey to the North, she decided to leave a message for Tressin to clean the stables in the morning. Right now, she wanted to spend her time settling Snowflake for the night, before making her way back to the castle herself. This had been her nightly ritual since he arrived, only at least now, she slept in her own bed and not in the stall cuddled into his vast mass and security.

She drove her father to drink on more than one occasion over her sleeping arrangements, but as usual, he set up a guard at the doors and left her there. Anything for a quiet life. Which led her to think that perhaps that’s why she liked young Tressin so much. Standing with her eyes shut she took in the smells around her. The horses, the thickness of the air surrounded her and she suddenly realized that the calm that was established had earlier abandoned her, and with it came the wave of nausea, fear, and anger. Coiling in her stomach. Shutting her eyes tighter against the tears streaming down her cheeks, she was unable to heed them no matter how much she screamed at herself, all the while she cursed her inability to contain her self-control. Her father was dead. Wiping her eyes hard followed by her nose with the back of her hand, she strode slowly towards Snowflake. He had been given to her father by Anso of Zantar after they finally signed a Treaty of peace after one hundred years of war between the Southern borders. Of course, when she saw him, she decided with a determination that he was going to be hers, regardless of her father’s feelings on the matter.

Knowing how he hated to argue with her as she screamed, kicked him in the shin as hard as she could and disappeared for three days. When she finally returned, her father was passed being angry with her; instead, he was so happy for her safe return he handed the horse over as if that was what he had planned all along. Having played the card of the spoilt child, she had won and succeeded wonderfully. Smiling as she ran her hand down behind his ears, she felt his quiver of contentment through her fingers.

“My father never stood a chance, did he? She said into the horse’s ear and laughed as he shook his head in what seemed agreement. Letting her mind wonder she returned to the day her father handed her the reins of the one-year-old white stallion. She remembered feeling that she should, at least, feel a little sorry for her disobedience, but she didn’t, and took the horse with great pleasure.

Having spent two months solid being thrown with great vigor from his back. On this one particular day, she had had enough. Slumping to the ground in the stables against the stall she folded her arms, glared and pouted as she looked at the horse in question. Chomping happily on the grass, she thought she might just cry.

“Bloody damn horse,” she said with venom as she rubbed her buttocks, which she assumed by now was black and blue, not to mention a little tender. A sudden thought came to her and up she stood with determination. Grabbing and apple on the way out she coaxed the horse to her with the tasty treat. Taking hold of his harness as he moved in close, she tied him to the fence. When he was secured, she sat on the fence directly in front of him, stared him straight in the eye, until the water ran down her own cheeks. But she’d be damned if she blinked first. “I’ll break you, you stupid beast,” she had said with so much anger towards the horse. Only if she was honest it was more so towards those who said she wouldn’t succeed. Six months later and she was riding him with ease. After another six months, she brought her father out to show him what the horse could do and what she had achieved. He trotted, lowered himself to the ground allowing her to mount him, descended on one leg in a curtsy that made her father clap and voice his elation at such a wonderful feat.

Finally, she brought Snowflake out into the clearing, leaving him to stay there, which totally confused her father. Until what she was doing was obvious. She whistled the loudest whistle making him cringe, and in turning in the direction of the horse ran as fast as she could. She could hear her father yell for her to stop as the horse barreled towards her head down. Without stopping she jumped, grabbed the reins and swung through the air in one sweeping motion onto his firm back. When she made her way back to where her father stood, he was pale, shaking commanding her to ‘never to do that again.’ Of course, she listened and obeyed, well until he wasn’t looking at least.

Another darker occasion came to her mind, her back stiffened. She had taken Snowflake half way along the foot of the Floyden Mountains. Constantly reassuring herself that as long as she went no further there was no harm in it. When she had just reached her point of return, she spotted a single horse and rider coming across the hill. First, she assumed he was just a hunter until it came obvious that he was more interested in hunting her. Turning she fled with the rider on her tail and making the biggest mistake of her life she turned and looked over her shoulder, only to be hit full force by a low hanging branch. Falling hard to the ground beneath their feet, she landed on her back with a thump. Snowflake had been unable to stop on time and kept going. Before she knew it, the rider was on top of her. Raking at her clothes, and rummaging under her skirts. She screamed, kicked, bit and struggled with great ferociousness. But he was so much bigger and stronger than she was. Just as he had lowered his trousers, she remembered her blade. Always attached to her thigh, she grabbed it and waited for him to come closer. When finally, he lowered himself. The moment she needed, the moment she had to time perfectly. With one hard jab, she stabbed into soft flesh, dragged the blade down along the left side of his face until he drew himself up from her. He let out an unmerciful painful scream as blood squirted from his eye, running through his hands, and along his arms.

Breaking away from her memories, she looked at the horse who had saved her life on more than one occasion and grew sad at his aged face. He was agile, had great speed and his alertness was uncanny, but she knew that eventually the time would come when she would leave him out to stud and begin with another. Running her hand down the length of his thick crests of hair, along his neck and muscular physique, she saw how it gave him such a formidable advantage over the other horses. Having found over the years that he had a tendency to be particularly aggressive towards other stallions. Much to Hakan’s annoyance, he had the exhausting job of having to have another stable built to house Knor, her father’s deep brown stallion.

“This will be our last adventure, my friend,” she said running her hand down along his nose. “It’s time you retired.” She gave him a final pat on the shoulder even though she knew as a stallion he could handle another couple of years on the front line if needed, but no matter how she wanted to give into her own selfish needs and wants, Nox knew if anything was to happen to him her mind would be lost. Making her way to the castle. It was time. But first, she had to find Hakan to talk about the final plans for their journey through the West. She would have preferred to take the East coast and into the Northern Territory over the Mountains, but from experience she knew it was too harsh a land and very difficult, not to mention, extremely dangerous. Not agreeing with the decision to form an alliance with the Mickisi in the first place didn’t help, but when she thought about how difficult it was going to be she cursed loudly. Nox found them brutal and ignorant and the less she had to do with them the better she felt. ‘A once off offer is all they’ll get’ she thought to herself ‘murderous bastards.’ Then she began to ask herself why she would even give them the opportunity, or offer such a Treaty of peace.

By the time she returned to the castle Hakan and the rest of the men had already made their way to the gathering hall for the feast, this left her to get ready as fast as possible and join the celebrations before people began to talk of her absence. Wearing a sky-blue gown which hugged her curves and lifted her breasts. ‘Not that they need lifting,’ she thought to herself but secretly she had hopes Anso of Zantar and his son Kiril would be attending. Even though he said very little she loved how his eyes followed her wherever she went. ‘Oh, stop it Nox, I’m sure he will be more than occupied with the young women even before I arrive,’ she shouted in her mind, but unconsciously clenched her fists at the thought. Leaving her hair down flowing past the base of her back, she took one final look at herself and smirked.

“Kiril always notices me,” and with that, she stepped into her white satin slippers and left her abode in high spirits. On arriving both sides were lined with men in full battle uniform which left her speechless. A fine sight to be taken in for sure. It happened so very rarely so that on the odd occasion like the night that was in it, she found herself unable to take her eyes from them. A snug fitting deep red jacket, gold buckles located on the hip to which their armor would attach to. Taking care to look more carefully at the details of the uniforms she could just about make out the two-colored pattern of gold and black stitching on the sleeves.

Circular shields lay against the right leg of each man, leaving them to face her directly as she walked through the gathering hall. Their sizes were the same but she knew their weights varied depending upon the warrior’s preference, but all was made of the same metal. Her father never thought it proper to force a smaller man regardless of height to use a bigger man’s shield. ‘It would hinder him in battle’ he had said looking at her in all his seriousness. Like the archers of the Crowden, the Arellian warrior’s shields held their own stories. Beautifully decorated and skillfully crafted, each was distinctive and unique. Like her comrades her shield had its own story but also held its own shape that differed entirely from all others. Longer in its appearance, it dipped to a point at the underside, curving to some degree into a partly circular shape at the top. This permitted her to see her opponent easily but also had the protection she always needed.

Noticing people she hadn’t seen since childhood, made her feel self-conscious, but with her chin held high, she headed for the top table. Taking the seat that was once her father’s. Her skin itched at the intrusion she felt. This would take some getting used to, forcing herself to control her inner thoughts; she motioned for the feast to begin. The food was in an unmerciful amount, the drink was plentiful and everyone in the place seemed to be aglow with excitement. Problems and upsets were forgotten for a time and people took the gift gratefully.

Soon she found that she herself had relaxed to a significant amount due to a deadly concoction she had been given by Gaius. Toasts were made in her honor to the resulting in her glowing with both merit and embarrassment. An attempt to sober reasonably when toasts were made in her father’s honor, which of course were followed by their condolences. Glasses were lifted in his name on more than one occasion, pleasing her no end. Gathering her feet beneath herself she moved a little unsteadily towards the window. “Wow, what is that drink? She asked as she hiccupped slightly and stifled a giggle. Looking out into the night her mind drifted to a day that seemed such a long time ago now.

Kiril son of Anso came to the castle. She had watched him closely as he walked through the grounds. His stride was extremely elegant for a man his size, although heavier on his feet than she liked, but she found she wasn’t the only one to notice. Many of the women followed, giggled and outright flirted to near falling at his feet, which made her want to go and beat them senseless. Only stopping herself at the very thought that he would think it did, in fact, bother her. She couldn’t blame them; he was like something sculpted to the highest standard. Black shoulder length hair, high sharp check bones that were covered lightly by growing stubble, making him look ravenous. Full luscious lips which seemed to capture her attention, resulting in her licking her own in wonder. And those eyes.

Having often wondered what color they were, she had all about given up all hope of finding out, which was unless she walked straight up to him and demanded to know, which of course was something she would never do. The very thought of him knowing pained her, and that alone was enough to stop her every time the notion entered her head. ‘You will do no such thing, and have him think you lose sleep over him.’ Definitely not blue or green and too dark to be brown. Nox had lain awake on more than one occasion, reflecting on how often those enticing eyes had met hers. It wasn’t until his eyes met hers directly one last time before returning to Zantar, did she realize with the help of the sun they seemed to hold no color.

Blinking she forced the memory away once again and turned her attention back to her guests. ‘I wonder why Anso didn’t travel this time,’ she reflected a little anxiously at the thought he disagreed with her father’s decision and thought it was the wrong choice to make. Thinking of Anso and how she found him always seeming to be in a great mood, Nox contemplated why it was his son was always frowning. His father was never overly domineering and seemed to give him whatever he wanted. She was there the day he presented him with a glorious sword, which at times she found herself still thinking of. It had a long-edged blade with a high grip. The blade itself must have measured at least thirty inches, and designed for sufficient killing. Formed at the end of the blade was a piercingly narrow point that was an absolute thing of beauty and craftsmanship. She was so jealous of him that night.

Anso had put a great deal of time, effort and thought into his gift, and the fact that he had handcrafted the sword to specially fit Kiril’s hands made the jealousy go even further. He smiled a brilliant smile that night that made her knees go weak, causing her hands to sweat. ‘But by the stars did he know how to use it.’ Nox recalled in awe, as she summons up the memory of watching him the next morning out on the training field while he was of the mind to think he was alone. Sweat drenched the back of his white shirt, his hair hung low into his eyes while his roar of attack against an invisible adversary sent shivers down her spine. She had never seen someone with so much power behind him and grace in his movements. He had great training she knew. Spending, at least, five hours a day with his sword and the rest of his time working at hand-on-hand combat, he was a fierce warrior. One she knew her father had always approved of. She had always wondered if she’d beat him but never got the chance. “Always bloody frowning at me,” she said yawning, as she turned suddenly, bid goodnight to those closest, and walked with purpose from the hall, leaving many disconcerted by her departure.

***

Turning the corner to take the stairs leading to the highest part of the castle, yelling brought her out of her thoughts and straight to her senses. The sound of breaking furniture, cursing and fists hitting faces echoed around the hallways.

“Great at least thirty men sounds just about right,” cursing she picked up her pace to a near jog. Suddenly found herself bounced off the back wall as the door flew open. Toran fell upon her with such force he took the wind out of her, leaving her having to gasp for a breath.

“He is so damn heavy, what the hell do you eat? Get off me!” she groaned pushing with all her might to move him, getting a kick at him in the process. The feeling of warm blood as it trickled down the back of her neck left the soft hair upon her arms to stand on end, while the metallic scent of it flooded her nose. The fool had split her head. It was Hakan that she heard first above the rest as he grabbed her by the shoulders shaking her gently. Then turning on Toran he let a roar that silenced everyone in close proximity to them.

“You big idiot, you’ve cracked her head open!” he roared with venom. When she finally was able to focus her eyes, she had Toran and his deadly bigger twin brother Gaius standing beside him, looking down at her. They were ruthless and a huge commodity, but in all that was good they were a definite challenge. Stillness filled the hall as the men watched and waited to see what she would do, and at that very moment, she was thinking the very same. They had grown up together, he had taken his place as the brother she never had, and on a normal day she would draw her sword and have it out with him while they laughed and joked about the outcome, but today she felt there was no place to look weak in the faces of those who now looked at her as the final voice of reason. Pushing herself away from the wall she looked at the blood on her fingertips, then up at Toran, those glistening green eyes of hers said it all. He was in trouble.

“So, what was it this time?” she asked incredulously in that quiet voice, putting everyone on edge straight away. Why couldn’t she just scream, shout and hit him back? It drove him crazy.

“Well, he shouldn’t have taken my drink should he,” Toran responded utterly abashed with what seemed a genuinely hurt expression flittered across his face, making her wonder how drunk he actually was. Quirking her eyebrow at him Nox wasn’t sure if she had even heard him right.

“Let me get this straight, you demolish what seems like everything in the hall, caused a near riot, and left a remarkable gash in the back of my head over a damn drink? Am I right?” she said licking the blood from her finger prior to pointing it at him. “For you Toran it’s going to be an especially long trip, now clean up your mess and get settled in for the night. We are departing earlier than first agreed on, just for you,”

“Yes sir,” he said in a feeble voice as his brother sniggered, tilting the rest of the beer down his throat, which amazingly had managed not to drop.

“I am not a bloody man,” replied Nox with a glare, rotating in a swish of skirts calling for Hakan to tag along with her, they had issues to discuss.