Chapter 4
:
The Night Maiden series #1: Riding a Black Horse
Chapter 4
The Valley of Colors earned its named from the fiery red blossoms of the draconic trees. In Baudrin’s youth, spring had been a time of enchantment, when the hills surrounding Valcolors were set ablaze as the blankets of snow vaporized into memory. Look at it now, however, the only blazes he could see were the campfires of raiding parties or the fires set by logging settlements as they stripped the mountains of their precious timber. The captain knew he would mourn those lost forests one day, should he live long enough to see the end of the war.
However, Baudrin felt more anxiety than grief as he watched anxiously from the parapet towards the roads leading from Olivet to Valcolors. He had tasked his nephew with reconnoitering at Brewer’s Landing, roughly at the midway point to the recently sieged industrial center, and he was seriously overdue. Through his telescope he could scan where the road disappeared into a copse of trees. Twice in the past hour he’d imagined he saw his pointed helmet atop a steed emerging into the clearing, only to be disappointed to find it was just his own harried mind playing tricks on him. Twice, under his breath, he’d sworn to quit the bottle if only for a sign. The warnings of the maiden plagued him.
“Sir,” Baldric cleared his throat. The assistant had crept to within a few feet of his captain and he hadn’t even noticed nor flinched from his perch, intent as he was at the telescope.
Baudrin glanced briefly in his direction, just long enough to notice a furrowed brow and crumpled piece of paper in his hand. The captain sighed and returned his eye to the eyepiece of the scope where it had been glued for the past hour.
“I suppose you bring news, Baldric?” he said dryly. “And I would guess that that news is that there is no news from Olivet, no contact whatsoever from Lord and Lady Briarwood or their representatives. Am I correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
Baudrin sighed and put down the telescope. “I told his mother I’d have him home by mageday,” he said glumly.
“Sir?”
“Nothing. Just the idle mumblings of a fool,” he said. “How is our young soothsayer doing? Perhaps I should pay her a visit, since it has been several days. Has she given up her sources yet? Is she still making demands?”
“She is as cheerful as ever and her demands grow ever more so each day,” Baldric said. “She’s resisted interrogation so far, so it’s unclear how she could have known about Olivet’s capture by the Fiorese. We’ve gone through her things thoroughly though and found nothing that would contradict her story.”
“Apart from the fact that it’s utterly bunko to believe she’s getting orders from a dead king, you mean?”
“I mean, sir, that the factual statements she’s made have checked out—where she came from and her itinerary before coming here. I make no statement about her communication with the great beyond.”
“But you believe her,” Baudrin eyed Baldric suspiciously.
The assistant wrung his hands. “I suppose, sir. I tried not to. I interrogated her sternly and have no reason to believe that she thinks she isn’t communicating with our departed king. She truly believes that. There’s something about her—I can’t place my finger on it—but she seems like someone one ought to trust.”
“Most skilled liars will do that. Perhaps she does have magical powers, just not the ones she claims. She’s weaving a charm on you, I think. Maybe I should keep my distance so she cannot work her dark powers on me as well.”
“Oh sir, I hope not,” Baldric said, eyes widening. “And I do apologize if my carelessness has caused me to fall under the thrall of a foul witch or caused you to be compromised in any way. I should rather be flogged.”
“Calm down, Baldric. She’s probably just a skilled liar. The magic comment was an off-hand joke, and a weak one at that. Magic is just smoke and mirrors the mages used to hoodwink us all for centuries. And where are they now? All fled to some damn mystery island since the Great Plague hit. If magic were real and there were a true God watching over everything, none of that would have happened.”
He waved his hand over the landscape. “None of this would be happening now.”
Baldric nodded, but gave no indication that he truly understood what his master was saying. He stood mutely waiting for Baudin to give him some sort of direction.
“Very well, let’s go see this maiden and solve her mystery once and for all. Knowing what she knows could give us valuable information. If the Fiorese have Olivet, they will soon be at our doorstep and information will then be at a premium.”
Baldric led the way as they descended the tower. The maiden was being housed in a small chamber just a few floors below. A single guard stood post at the heavy wooden door and fumbled with the key to let them in.
The door swung open and the two men entered. The chamber was comfortable, but sparsely decorated, as would befit the guest quarters of a wildlands or border outpost, which presumably it now was since Olivet and all points northwest had fallen into the hands of the Fiorese and their allies. A bed and small desk were crammed against the left wall and a roughhewn wardrobe tilted slovenly against the wall to the right.
The maiden had pulled the chair that accompanied the desk—the only one in the room—across to the portcullis and sat staring at the sky through the opening, her back to the door. She made no attempt to get up and face them. Her only acknowledgement of Baudin and Baldric was slight bow of her head as the two men’s steps echoed across the flagstone floor. She was still dressed in her simple peasant garb—a brown tunic cinched at the waist with a leather belt and faded sack cloth skirt, frayed at the hem. As the captain approached her, he noticed that she was not sitting on the chair but rather kneeling before it, her head bowed.
“Are you praying, maiden?” Baudin asked uncomfortably. “You know, you have nothing to fear from me if you simply tell me the truth. That is all that I require from you. The gods will expect no less either.”
The maiden was silent.
“Perhaps she has lost her tongue,” Baldric said. Baudin gave him a blank look and then proceeded towards the window. As he approached, he could begin to see the maiden’s face framed in the square of light, glistening with tears. When last he looked upon her, her features had been hard and resolute as she addressed the captain. Now, her weeping had softened her and imparted a sort of grace Baudin had not expected to see in a peasant girl. The sight of it pulled slightly at his heart.
“Madam, we have meant you no harm. I have simply—”
“I’m sorry, captain, and I must apologize for my behavior.”
Baudin nodded. “It’s good that you have come to your senses.”
“No,” the maiden said. She turned to him and suddenly, though gently, cradled his face in her hands. He instinctively jerked backwards, taken by surprise by the maiden’s gesture. “I’m sorry that I could not bring you to your senses sooner. Your nephew…”
“My nephew?”
“I heard his screams. I saw him struck down.”
“From here?” Baudin glanced out the window. She could barely have seen the Valley of Colors without a looking glass, let alone a single rider traveling the heavily wooded paths miles away.
“From here,” the maiden said, touching her forehead and then her chest. “And here.”
“I’m not a man who trusts a woman’s heart or imagined feelings.”
“You will,” the maiden said. “Soon.”
“You can’t know my heart, girl.”
“I know the heart of a man who’s suffered through loss and I’m offering you a way to make it right and give your nephew’s death a purpose.”
“And what way is that?”
“Take me to the Dauphin. Just convince him to grant me an audience. If I am nothing but a liar, he will toss me in his dungeon and you can still plead your case to raise an army to save your keep. If I am what I claim to be, then I will prove it to the Dauphin and I will help to save your keep and this entire kingdom.”
Baldric nodded. “Her reasoning seems sound.”
Baudin flashed his assistant a cold glare, but he had to admit reasoning was as sound as her mystical visions appeared to be accurate. He bit his lip and turned away from the maiden. “Is that what you really think, Baldric?”
Baldric gave his commander a quizzical look. “I suppose it is. It’s not as though any of your previous messengers has made any headway with his royal presence in the past year. With the Fiorese practically at our doorstep, what have we to lose by sending her on to the Dauphin?”
Baudin shook his head in approval. “Nothing,” he said. “But we won’t be sending this girl, we’ll be taking her instead.”
“Sir? I don’t catch your meaning.”
“I mean that she won’t be going alone. I’ll be escorting her myself.”
“Are you sure that’s wise, sir?” Baldric said. “I don’t want to bring up the unpleasantness of your nephew’s death, but surely now there will be Fiorese scouting parties and bandits sympathetic to them on the roads between here and—”
“And they would no doubt be pleased to serve my head on a platter should they get hold of me,” Baudin growled. “No, you’re quite right, Baldric. And leaving the keep under threat of impending attack may not tactically be the best option, but we can’t simply wait to be the next domino to fall as the Fiorese sweep the countryside. We will have to make a stand and we will desperately need the Dauphin’s arms and support to do so. The girl is right that I could plead my case directly whether she fails or not, and that’s clearly something I must do. Besides, I’d like to get a better look at what exactly is happening at court that is causing our presumptive lord to be so tentative and tight-fisted with his resources.”
“I see, sir,” Baldric said. “It would be enlightening to discover the reason for the Dauphin’s indecision in certain matters. But I don’t think it’s unreasonable to provide you with a small detachment. To ensure your security, of course.”
“Of course, you are right to want that. However, a larger party would draw unwanted attention. I feel we need to be more subtle, don’t you?” Baudin turned back to the maiden. “We’ll need to stay small and travel under cover. We already have a member who can play a plausible peasant girl. I suppose the two of us won’t look as fetching in plain rags as she, but it will have to do.”
“The two of us? Just the two of us?” Baldric said in disbelief.
Baudrin put a reassuring hand on his assistant’s shoulder. “Just the two of us—for my nephew. No one else must know that we’ve left the keep. The wider the circle, the greater the risk.”
The assistant nodded. “I’ll make preparations, sir.”
As Baldric left the room, Baudrin turned back to the maiden. She smiled weakly though her eyes still glistened with tears—of joy or sadness, de could not tell.”
“Now, girl—it would seem incredibly rude of me to call you that. What would you have me call you?”
“My friends call me Jeanne, but my parents named me Pucele.”
“Pucele is a beautiful name. Certainly a name befitting a maiden who wishes to honor my nephew’s memory.”