The Lady's Man (8 page)

“Yes child. The wild heart barbarian that rescued my family and me. You have I believe heard of him from the fifth Hammeral rangers.”

“The wild heart!” Genivere's blood chilled. Nothing else in what she said mattered. Only that she was speaking of a wild heart. A monster in human form. And she wanted her to ride with such a creature? If there was anyone she would never want to meet, it would be him. “He would kill me – or worse!”

“Child Yorik is not a wild heart and he will not harm you. Of this much at least I am certain. He is a paladin, either of the Order of the Lady or the Silver Order. A man of honour with whom you will be safe. You may trust in this. My visions have been clear.”

A paladin of the Order of the Lady! Genivere relaxed a little at hearing that, though not completely. The rangers had said nothing of his being a paladin. And while she knew the foreteller would speak true, she wasn't completely sure she was right. Still, a paladin of the Order of the Lady! That impressed Genivere, more than a little. She did not want to go anywhere near a wild heart. No woman would. But if the foreteller said she was certain he was actually a paladin, that was different. Even if he was human.

She'd always wanted to meet a paladin. Her own brother Geannalee was a ranger of the Order of the Lady, and an amazing warrior with it. He could move like the wind and cast spells even when he had no magic of his own. But more than that he was an elf to be proud of. An elf of valour and virtue. He always had been, from long before he'd joined the Order. And she'd always wondered what the human side of the order must be like. Paladins and clerics instead of rangers and wizards. Humans so loud and rough, but if they were of the Order of the Lady, also brave and virtuous. It seemed like such a strange mix. And from what she'd heard, paladins were covered from head to foot in steel! They were the mightiest of warriors.

“But you will have to walk carefully around him.” Annalisse carried on apparently not noticing Genivere's lapse in concentration. “On this too my visions have been clear. He has recently suffered a terrible loss, and for a time the anger drove him away from his calling. When you meet him he will be stronger. He will be reuniting himself with his patron. Reforging his bond of service. His bond of trust. A paladin in order to serve must have absolute faith and trust in his cause and his patron. He must be unquestioning.”

“As part of his healing he has been given a quest to undertake. One that will leave his path completely in the hands of his patron. One that will be a test of his obedience and his faith. He must not fail that test.”

“A quest Elder?”

“I am unclear on what he has been asked to do or seek. But I know he is unclear on it as well. Instead he is being guided, and he must allow himself to be guided. He must listen and obey. And while it is important that you journey with him, it is also important that you do not steer him from the path set out for him.”

“Elder?” Genivere didn't understand what Annalisse was asking of her.

“His is a test to see how well he can be guided. How little he will resist his patron. You must not say anything that could cause him to doubt. Nothing that might make him wonder if he can still serve with all his heart. You must not guide him.”

“Then …?”

“You will accompany him. Answer his questions. Treat his injuries should he have any. And warn him if he needs warning. No more. And when his mission is complete you will bring him back to Hammeral.”

“Yes Elder.”

“You will also not speak to your patrol of what I have told you. Your captain knows where she is to go and when she must arrive. She knows of whom she will meet and what she must do then. But no more. That must remain as it is.”

“Yes Elder.” Genivere nodded again and then waited to be told off. But it never happened.

“Good. Be sure to remember those instructions. The fate of all of Hammeral may depend on you obeying them.”

“Now go. Captain Ysabel will be waiting for you when you return, and then you will have to ride. Your meeting with Yorik will not be for eight days, but it is a long journey and the captain will surely be eager to set off.”

Chapter Six.

“Let me guess, you would be Yorik the wild heart.”

It wasn't a question but Yorik nodded politely, regardless. Not for the first time he regretted having to travel through the Hammeral Forests again, especially after having told the last elf captain he had no wish to enter their lands, but it wasn't a choice. The man he was to meet and give a message to lay in this direction and he simply had to follow where the Lady guided him. He knew it would be worse when he had to explain that he was being guided by a spirit as the elves would no doubt call the Lady. But at least he was lucky that the captain spoke New Vinnish. Many of the elves of Hammeral did, but not all and his Elvish was barely passable.

She wasn't a spirit though. And despite the stories and the fact that she had once walked the world as a dryad prophetess, she wasn't that either. She was an elemental, a being of supreme power, little removed from the heavens. But the Order did not discuss that with outsiders, and he would not discuss it with this woman.

This new interrogator, Captain Ysabel of the thirteenth rangers of Hammeral, was a woman, and clearly also the leader among her troops, something that would have been unheard of in human lands. He also suspected that for all that she was a woman she would be no less tough to convince of his good intentions than the last captain he'd met. Possibly harder, considering what wild heart barbarians were reputed to do with any women they caught. Perhaps he would have been better to have left his furs off and travelled through the forests in his armour? At least then he might get a modicum of respect from those he met. Of course, bandits would take one look at a man in gold armour travelling alone, and attack, which was why paladins of the Order generally concealed themselves as wild hearts. No one liked wild hearts, but no one generally annoyed them either.

“Not returning any more lost elves to us are you?” The sarcasm in the woman's voice was so thick it would have been obvious to a rock, but underneath it was a large dose of nervousness and perhaps even curiosity.

“No Captain. I am here on a sacred quest. Where I am going or how long I'll travel I do not yet know, I have not yet been shown, but on my service to the Lady I swear to you that I have no intention of creating trouble or harming any of your people.”

It sounded somewhat crazed even to him, but at least it was the truth and the elves had a long history of allowing religious pilgrims into their lands. Even human ones. It was one of the few human purposes they respected.

“Service to the Lady? A wild heart barbarian on a holy quest?”

“I am not a wild heart Captain. I simply dress like one to avoid trouble. By and large no one troubles a wild heart. In truth I am Yorik of Ender's Fall, son of Heric of Stowe, Knight Errant and Paladin of the Order of the Lady.”

The captain did nothing more than arch one eyebrow at him in question, and he knew she didn't believe a word he said. And who could truly blame her? His disguise was good as it was meant to be, and he had done nothing to indicate that he was anything other than he appeared save to rescue a few traders.

In response Yorik just sighed, shook his head slowly, and began removing his ragged fur cloak, exposing the gold of his armour to the soft light of the woods. That was at least something that he could prove. Despite the fact that it had been covered with dirty animal hides for the best part of a couple of months, his armour gleamed as though it had just been polished, and that was enough to make an impression on the captain. He could see her eyes widening in surprise, and behind her those of her men. But he didn't stop there.

Once he'd started removing the hides, Yorik suddenly decided that he wanted to continue and get rid of the last of his dirt covered rags. They felt like what they were – a lie. And so he dismounted and removed not only the cloak, but also the leather strip vest, fur leggings and soft soled leather boots, and then last but not least the hide helmet. In short order he was standing before the captain dressed only in armour as a paladin should be, while the hides were stowed away in his saddle bags, and he stood there with pride.

He was a paladin of the Order of the Lady. He had trained and studied for many long years to attain that position. He had finally sworn the compact on his blood and soul, and even though he had lost his way for a time in his grief and rage, the Lady had accepted him anew. It was good to no longer have to hide his nature from anyone, be they elf or bandit.

There was only one problem with wearing gold armour; it was so conspicuous and so desired by others that paladins would have to fight off literal hordes of bandits every time they left their homes. But even if by some mischance a bandit managed to obtain a paladin's armour, it wouldn't have fetched anything like the money he would have hoped for. The armour had gold in it, small amounts smelted into it by the master smiths of the Order and then spelled to shine like the sun, but it was mostly quality spring steel, and for another not of the Order, it would not shine so bright.

“Pretty.”

Yet even as she offered her flippant remark, Yorik knew she was assessing him and finding him as nothing she had imagined. He even knew why. From a soldier's perspective the armour was well crafted, obviously very protective, and completely useless to an elf ranger. It would protect well against weapons and magic both, but it was worse than useless at concealment. Anyone wearing it would be visible from at least a league away, and the gold inlay made it a tempting target for thieves. But then a paladin was not expected to hide when on official business, and thieves could be dealt with. They wore the wild heart rags only when they wanted to travel without drawing attention to themselves. But it was more than that which affected her.

The armour was spelled so that anyone seeing it, would not only know that the wearer was a paladin of the Order of the Lady, but also instinctively understand what that meant. The values that the wearer must hold true to. Life, love, justice, piety, righteousness, charity and temperance. None seeing it would ever be foolish enough to try and persuade the wearer to do ill. They knew he would not. Nor would they be able to attack one without knowing they were in the wrong.

It was said that many an evil doer had learned the wrongness of his life simply by seeing a paladin of the Order in the flesh. Sadly that hadn't been Yorik's experience. Brigands and bandits might know that they were doing evil, but for the most part they seemed to have accepted that about themselves. If anything they seemed to take the armour as a personal affront. An accusation perhaps, and they attacked with increased vigour. No doubt the result of a guilty conscience. Yet perhaps as they fell to the paladin's might and the Lady's grace, they at least understood that they had only themselves to blame for their mess, and learned a measure of regret.

“And where does your quest take you Yorik, son of Heric?”

“In truth I do not know Captain. Though it must seem strange I only know that I must head south and west until I find the one I am to deliver a message to.”

The captain's face was carefully neutral, giving nothing away. But Yorik was certain that behind that blank stare her thoughts were racing in all sorts of strange directions as the obvious questions arose.

“Message?”

“Again I cannot tell you good Captain. I do not know what the message is that I must deliver.”

Once more he got to stare at the captain's blank expression and wonder what was happening behind those eyes. This time it was more than a few heartbeats before she said anything.

“So you're telling me you've been given a mission to deliver a message to someone. But you don't know who that man is, where to find him, or even what the message is. And which part of that was it that you thought I might find strange?”

As he'd expected his explanation hadn't gone done too well with the captain, but then he wasn't surprised. When he said it even to himself it sounded ridiculous. But it was true.

“The Lady guides my feet, she is my compass. She will guide my hands, eyes and tongue when the time comes. More than that I do not know and I do not need to know.”

Once that wouldn't have been true, as pride would have made him ask or at least wonder; but no longer. Much of his false pride had vanished as he'd finally accepted the worst of his wrongdoing, and a sense of humility filled him. Only the Lady had saved him from himself, and who was he to question her?

“But I need to know!”

Yet even as she said it he could see her eyes squinting, turning away from his armour, and he knew Captain Ysabel wasn't being truthful. Genuinely angry and frustrated yes, but not completely truthful. She wanted to know, the curiosity was biting at her, but she didn't have the need. He suddenly understood why without knowing how. Perhaps the Lady had whispered that knowledge in his ear.

“Your elders have asked you to grant me free passage, haven't they?”

It would have been a matter of honour for them. Indeed Annalisse might also have had a finger in the pie. That inquisitive old woman was surely an elder as he'd suspected, and there was magic about her as well. Things that gave her status among the elves. She was also a meddler, though not in a bad way, and someone whom he suspected always knew a lot more than she ever let on.

Though he had spoken perhaps a dozen words with her in the three days he had escorted her and her kin to Hammeral, there had always been something calculating in her eyes. Something that said she saw beyond his wild heart rags. He had avoided her more than any of the others, finding her intensity troubling, and always knowing that she knew more of him than she said.

By way of answer the Captain just nodded, looking somewhat down in the mouth, and confirming everything he had imagined.

“Thank you. And please thank your elders for me, for their kindness. I have told you all I can of where I go and why, and you are free to tell them the same. But please do not assume that I am hiding anything from you. I am not.”

“I know that my journey – my means of finding my way – must sound like the ravings of a crazed man to you. I really do. But in this I am not the one setting my path. I am only the humble servant. I follow where I am led; I do as I am bid.”

In that statement he was finally being more honest than he ever had been before, and surprisingly, more true to his once innocent nature.

In the twenty some days since leaving Crossroads Shire a peace had descended on him that had transcended anything he had ever known. He didn't quite know how or why it had happened, he suspected it was simply the blessing of the Lady after she had vanquished the demon, but he was infinitely grateful for it.

It had not been an easy journey for him. In fact it had been a time of great difficulty as he finally found the ability to grieve properly for his family once the anger was gone. But that was good honest grief, and he let it flow through him, washing away the poison that had taken hold in his heart and soul. Too many days and weeks he had let the evil consume him, and against that even the grief was welcome. But even the grief was finally passing, as he found within him a new strength. The strength to remember the goodness of his life before. To relive happier times. And even to accept the goodness all around him in the midst of that grief.

Through that he had found the will to renew his vows to the Lady. To life and love in all their glory. It had been twenty years since he had first taken his vows. Twenty long years over which he realised, he had become jaded. He had accepted much of the glory of the world as normal. But it wasn't normal. It was wondrous.

As he'd travelled he'd once again discovered the endless wonder of the world. He’d celebrated the magnificence of the trees that had surrounded him as he'd entered the lands of Hammeral, had sung loud and well with the glory of the sunrise, and had laughed with the babbling brooks that seemed to dominate the region. At every moment, every twist in the trail, he kept finding more and more things to celebrate. And with every painful memory he remembered the love that had been his family.

Life and love. Those were the fundamentals of the Lady's teachings, and for the longest time he realised, he'd almost forgotten them. Even before the tragedy that had befallen his family. But now, it was like a reawakening, as he remembered the lessons he'd learned as a youngster, even before he'd joined the Order as a novitiate.

Somewhere over those long years as first an apprentice, then a knight and finally in time a paladin of the Order, he realised he'd lost something. He'd lost his path and his purity even as he'd mastered all the skills of the blades and war, and then gone on to excel in tactics and strategy, to memorize by heart all the laws of the lands, to learn the customs and languages of all the peoples, and to know their history. Such was his skill and dedication over the years that many had hoped that one day he might become the new master at arms or even commander of the chapter. Now that hope was long gone, and yet even as he said goodbye to his dreams, he knew he'd learned far more in the weeks since his failure, than he had in all his years in the Order.