River Heart

Chapter Sixteen - Welcome

‘I hope to,’ Arn admitted and nudged Storm forward, towards the head of the line without looking back. She hadn’t noticed until this moment, that he’d pulled on a clean, borrowed shirt from Rafai and taken the time that morning to wash his hair and face, slicking the golden strands back from his features. He’d known all day and he hadn’t said a word. Kit scrambled down from the roof and settled beside her, digging her in the ribs with an elbow.

‘I don’t think he wants to go anywhere,’ the young man grinned at her, and stole the reins back as they approached the busy fort. ‘Not really.’

‘I just…’ She waited until the Prince was out of earshot riding ahead to the front of the Caravan. She wished he had said something. ‘It doesn’t matter to me,’ she shrugged.

The sandstone walls rose up on either side as they crossed a long and narrow bridge to a gate and portcullis. Though the gates were opened, the party was stopped on the bridge. As one of the furthest caravan’s Lyris couldn’t hear what was said, but leaning to the side, she could see Arn on Storm speaking to the guard who had approached him. Kelanin sat straight backed at the front of the blue-wagon. The murmur of words continued before the guard rapidly summoned a squire and sent the boy sprinting into the fort. It was then that the guard stepped aside from the wagons and the caravan was waved through. Horse hooves clipped over stone, wagon wheels grumbling over the hard surface.

‘By Myst that was quick,’ Kit muttered and glanced, nervously at the front of the caravan, ‘we’re normally held up here for an hour while they check the storage.’ He looked across at Lyris, brows pulled together in a frown. Kit had so far been nothing but carefree and friendly, but his expression barely contained his new suspicion. It wasn’t her secret to tell, Lyris reminded herself and remained mute. He would find out soon enough, who his new friend Arn really was. Then he’d probably change his mind about Arn wanting to leave the caravan; it would all start making sense. Prince’s didn’t travel with caravans, they stayed in castles and travelled with armed guards. Still, she wondered if she’d ever felt safer than she had the last few days.

Lyris found herself sinking back in the chair as the first smells of civilisation started to build. Coal mingled with the scent of smoking fish. She could sense washing suds in the water that trickled at the side of the road. The ringing chimes of the blacksmith at his anvil split the air. Inside the first set of walls were more than a dozen buildings. The smith itself, a bakery, barracks, and training ground for the guardsmen and soldiers posted in Golden Fort, stables and a granary, interspersed with wooden houses with thatched roofs and dainty flowers in window boxes. It was more of a small town then a fort, with the ground sloping down to a beach on the Lake shores. Fishing boats were moored to a jetty, along with two ships with long masts and flat bottoms, ideal for carrying men and cargo with speed across the lake. Men, woman and children came out, as they usually did to watch the wagon’s pass. Two little girls with wooden swords were so engrossed with their duel had to be caught by their father and pulled back, of the street.

‘After they inspect our wagons, they usually let us circle beside the lake,’ Kit muttered beneath his breath when it became clear that their procession was moving past its turning towards the lake. Instead they rose the slight incline towards a higher pair of sandstone walls that glittered. Even as they climbed, a banner was zipping up the flagpole to join the Lord’s own pennant. Redstone’s standard was two crossed golden hammers on a red field. What rose was the familiar, silver outline of a dragon’s maw on darkest blue. Royalty had arrived at the fort. There was a whisper of excitement through the gathering crowd.

As the new pennent snapped in the wind, Kit’s mouth dropped open and he stared. The reins went loose in his hands till he remembered himself and nudged the horse to walk. ‘Who is Arn?’ he demanded and Lyris realised that the secret was already shared.

‘He is a son of the King,’ she replied, relieved to finally tell her new friend. They watched together as the crowd around the street started to swell. The caravans were used as a guard of escort, moving up into the higher levels of the fort and through a second narrower set of gates. They were led through the killing-zone defences and onto a circular lawn. The wagons were surrounded by tall sandstone buildings and guards who seemed to appear out of nowhere, ran to line the expansive steps to the keep doors. Their armour glinted as they stood, weapons in hand, to attention and ready to welcome a prince.

The caravans formed their semi-circle and Arn, on Storm, stood in the centre, waiting for Lord Redstone to make his appearance. Once, he looked back and scanned the line of wagons. Lyris found herself meeting his gaze. He stared at her, inclining his head to the side before holding his hand toward her, palm up. Lyris sank back into the shadows, shaking her head. It had been a clear invitation and one she had no intention of accepting. Whatever he wanted her to do, she wasn’t willing to stand like an i***t in front of a Lord. He looked away then, patting Storm as though to steady the bad-tempered mount.

A tall man stepped through the doors, with three women hurrying behind him. Redstone held his arms wide in welcome and smiled at the Prince. Arn dismounted in a smooth motion and advanced with a grin of his own.

‘You have grown, your highness,’ Redstone embraced the young man in a tight welcome which Arn returned, ‘it will be with great pleasure that I inform your Father that you are safe.’

‘Thank you,’ Arn held the man’s arms, ‘though I can only credit Kelanin and her family for their efforts in keeping me from harm.’

Glad that she could hear the exchange, Lyris found herself rolling her eyes at Kit. It was horrible to hear the Prince speaking so formally. Like someone they didn’t know.

‘Then your hosts will join us tonight?’ The men parted and Redstone extended his offer to the group with an extended arm and Kelanin stepped down to approach. Rafai appeared to take Storm’s reins from Arn’s grip. Although Lyris couldn’t help but notice that the black man kept his own respectful distance from Storms’ legs, and held the reins tight enough that the horse couldn’t bite him without warning.

‘We would be delighted to accept your gratitude,’ Kelanin accepted with a gracious curtsey and Rafai bowed behind her.

‘As we have in previous years we will pitch our camp beyond your walls?’ Rafai asked and it was Kit’s turn to wrinkle his nose at the unusual formality.

‘You are most welcome,’ Redstone agreed and Rafai and Kelanin turned on the spot, dismissed, and returned to their wagons. There was little time to waste as the horses were nudged into walking again, circled the green lawn and returned to the gate. Moving fast, as though afraid they’d be stopped from leaving. Lyris realised that Arn wasn’t going to be coming with them, instead, her friend and companion was stood with Redstone and being introduced to the three women who had fallen from the door behind the Lord of Golden Fort.

Redstone was a broad man, almost as tall as Arn himself. He had a short nose though that looked as though it had been broken more than its fair share. His thick red hair sprouted at angles from his head but was cropped short. He rested a large arm around the shoulders of a leaner woman with pale golden hair. She had a sharp, pointed face and a determined way of moving. As though nothing would dare stand in her way, even if she was dainty.

‘He’s a prince,’ Lyris reminded herself, turning on the seat to watch as Arn was introduced to Lord Redstone’ two daughters. Suddenly, Lyris felt hot from the ears down and a stone settled in her stomach.

‘I’ll be damned,’ Kit shook his head as they passed between the kill-zone again and for a moment all the light vanished from the sky. Crows leapt from the parapet before them, cawing as they rose, wheeling upwards. ‘For a second there I was worried we’d be camping on their lawn,’ he muttered.

‘For a second, I was worried Arn was going to stay with us,’ she replied and winced at her own bitterness.

Kit reached out and patted her on the arm, ‘he’s a prince,’ he replied, ‘at least this way you get your own bed tonight.’

‘Good,’ she folded her arms beneath her chest, ‘I’ll be able to sleep without his snoring.’