The Sword and the Sylph (Elemental Series) (2 page)

Chapter 2

Sir Braden
slowed his horse as they reached the crossroads, eyeing the scavenger birds circling the air above their heads. Lord Wolfe was at his side and the duke’s squire followed, carrying his pennant of a wolf high in the air. Braden’s stomach turned as he spied the gallows tree, the large wooden structure with its sidearm holding a metal cage that creaked eerily as it swung back and forth in the breeze. ’Twas on display at the crossroads as a message to others. The decayed and rotten body of the prisoner within the iron cage was baked and shriveled from the hot sun. Ravens pecked at the deceased one’s eyes and also at the putrid remains.

Braden stopped his horse and surveyed the dead man with pity. War was one thing, but torture was something he’d never get used to.

“It looks like the work of Lord Solomon,” stated Lord Wolfe.

“How can you be sure?” asked Braden, squinting in the sun to survey the situation.

“I’ve seen it before,” stated Wolfe. “While the lord of Banesmoor is a fair man, he is also known to torture and execute those who he feels deserve it.”

“
Well, I wonder what this prisoner did to deserve this horrendous death?” Sir Braden circled his horse around the display as he spoke. The air held unsettled vibrations and his horse even seemed skittish, being able to feel death in the air.

“Looks like the man was
perhaps a spy,” said Lord Wolfe. “See the red feather atop the cage? That is the sign of a marked traitor.”

“Aye,” answered Braden ready to be away from this wretched scene.
This did naught to assure him he’d made the right choice, as Banesmoor was his destination. To be in the service of Lord Solomon was his plan as well. “Well, Lord Wolfe, this is where we part ways.” He suddenly didn’t feel as confident as when he’d decided to do this a sennight ago.

“
Aye,” said Wolfe. “And I must say I don’t fancy my journey of telling the king of the death of my uncle. Still, no matter how evil Lord Clive was, he was still married to the king’s cousin, so ’tis my duty. And I would miss you, Sir Braden as you have always been my closest ally as well as my best and most loyal knight. I thank you for your years of service and dedication within the walls of Manterra.”

Braden clasped arms with his liege
lord from atop their horses. He just nodded in silence, feeling a bit choked as he watched the duke and his squire ride away in the opposite direction. He then turned and headed for Banesmoor Castle, not at all sure he should have left Manterra in the first place.

But he’d seen how happy Lord Wolfe was now that he was married, a
nd that only brought out a longing in him as well. He wanted the kind of happiness with a woman that Lord Wolfe had found with the dryad girl. But he knew by staying in Manterra he was never going to find it. And being a landless knight, he also needed to be married to a lady with a sizeable dowry. This would bring him a secured future, as well as wealth and hopefully several holdings in the process. ’Twas what every knight sought, and he wasn’t going to stop until he got it.

He was pleased
indeed for his liege lord, but felt as if it was his time to rise to the surface so to speak. For years he’d served loyally as captain of the guard to the duke, and now ’twas time he collect the title of liege lord for himself. But one step at a time, he thought as a subtle reminder.

So he’d bid Manterra and its occupants farewell and now headed toward Banesmoor to hire out his sword to Lord Solomon in the lowlands.

He’d planned on working as a mercenary
and collecting coin while he searched the land for what he needed. On their travels here, they’d heard from another knight headed to Banesmoor that Lord Solomon had an eligible daughter of marrying age with a good-sized dowry. Actually, it had been Lord Wolfe’s idea he pursue the chance of possibly marrying the girl. He fancied the idea as well, as ’twas everything he was searching for. If he married the lord’s daughter, ’twould also fare well for Lord Wolfe and his dukedom to be sure.

Braden
rode his horse through the castle’s gate, listening to the merriment as a festival was in full progress. Minstrels wandered through the crowd, playing long wooden flutes, and lutes strung with cat-gut. Across the bailey sat an old man, banging on a goatskin naker, hand held drum. Several young children skipped happily through the courtyard, laughing as they followed a jester in a feathered mask shaking a long stick with small bells attached. They made a full circle around a man juggling apples who reached out to pat the children on their heads as they passed by, never once dropping the fruit in the process.

Many peddle
rs wandered through the courtyard. A cloth merchant had small tables set up along the curtain wall with bolts of fine velvet and silk in colors of wine and cream. A cordwainer was next to him, holding up pairs of his finely crafted shoes. A man walked by with a long tray of fresh baked pies, nodding to Braden as he passed, followed by his wife calling out their wares for sale.

Braden
rode forward, taking in the wonderment of it all, the scent of fresh baked bread filling his nostrils. A large woman in raggedy clothes held a basket made from reeds up in front of him to show him the loaves of dark course bread.

“Bread fer a copper
, milord?” she asked with hope in her eyes. Braden pulled a shilling from his pouch tossing it to the woman but shaking his hand in refusal of her wares. She smiled a broken-toothed smile at his gracious gift of over ten times what she was asking and handed it to a young small boy who he had not even seen clinging to her skirts.

A goat ran in front of him being chased by a young lad. And on his heels were two scraggly hounds, barking and nipping at him playfully.

An alewife wound her way through the crowd with several tankards of the cold brew in her grip. He was parched and could do with a good drink, but would wait until he surveyed the situation at hand.

He saw a crowd forming up near the entrance to the castle and rode forward to join them.
Potential suitors upon horseback waited patiently under the balcony of what he guessed was the lady of the castle’s chamber. Two heralds stood high above the crowd atop wooden boxes with long, straight trumpets in their hands. They wore parti-colored clothing of half red and half blue. Lord Solomon’s pennant hung from their trumpets where his crest was proudly displayed. Two respectant charges – white stags on their hind legs facing each other - graced each side of an azure kite-shaped shield, topped with two orange feathers.

M
any suitors had arrived to try to win the Lady Christabel’s hand. He looked up to the balcony as Lord Solomon walked out to greet them, holding high in the air the hand of his daughter, presenting her to the suitors. The straight trumpets blared and a herald announced every man who’d come to court her.

Sir Braden sat atop his horse behind the long line of suitors, studying the faces of each.
Young men, old men, warriors and knights stood in line, all hoping for the same thing – the huge and prestigious dowry that came with the hand of the Lady Christabel in marriage. Some were scarred by battle, others looked regal and very wealthy indeed. And some even had an entourage of servants with them, offering gifts to the lady of the castle, hoping to win her over even if it was her father who was to truly decide her future husband.

One by one the heral
d announced them, all of them holding titles of Baron, or Earl, or if not, having many lands in their holdings or many great battles won and heroic deeds performed as part of their impressive presentation.

“Your name and title?” asked
the herald looking down at him from the top of his perch, bringing Braden from his thoughts.

“Sir Braden of Manterra,” he answered, surveying the comely girl atop the balcony. She was fair w
ith long, dark hair and a tall, lean frame. She wore a gown of gold taffeta lined in pearls and donned a golden diadem atop her head adorned with colored jewels. She was the perfect image of wealth and beauty. Any man would consider himself lucky to win her hand in marriage.

He noticed
that through all the announcements of the suitors, the girl did not once smile or even glance at the men. He’d have no chance with her, he realized, not with all these impressive titled men vying for her dowry against him. Sir Braden longed for the same as these men, but decided he wanted even more than just this. That is, something more than just titles, lands and wealth.

After seeing the elemental fae girl Portia-Maer at the stone circle not long a
go, his mind had been set on the mystical girl who not only stirred his loins, but captured his heart as well. Her ethereal elemental kiss she’d placed on his shoulder had magickally healed his wound. Now the only girl who could satisfy the longing within him was someone who was not even human.

And Lady Ch
ristabel, though comely and wealthy, would never suffice now, as his mind was already set on a girl that he knew not where to find.

“Sir Bra
den?” asked the herald, dragging him from his thoughts. “The Lady Christabel would like to know what you bring to the marriage as well. Her dowry is huge and lands offered are vast. But are you a landholder, and what battles have you won and what accomplishments make you worthy of her hand in marriage? Whom are your parents and of what noble line have you been born?”

Braden
couldn’t answer those questions. Especially not the latter. Nor did he want to at this moment. Besides, he could barely concentrate on the matter at hand, as he kept thinking how happy Lord Wolfe was with the fae girl he’d found and married. Where was Braden’s fae – the elemental of the air, he wondered? And would he ever see her again?

“Sir Braden?” the herald asked once again, and he realized
everyone was staring at him and he needed to answer the man’s question.

“None,” he blurted out
, having changed his mind about being the lady’s suitor.

“What?” the herald asked. “No lands? What battles have you led and won?
And whom are your parents?”

His parents were something he’d rather not discuss.
Truth be told, he was far from being a true noble. And he knew that was never going to land him a lady’s hand in marriage. Still, he did have other respectable traits. Such as, he’d fought many battles bravely at Lord Wolfe’s side and held many honorable moments, but now none of that really mattered. So instead, he kept it to himself.

“None again,” he answered. “I have naught to bring to the marri
age and neither do I desire the Lady Christabel. I have come to Banesmoor only to offer my sword for hire. But I can see Lord Solomon has no need of it, as his courtyard is already filled with qualified men and weapons.”

He
turned his horse to leave, and heard the herald laughing and calling out that he had naught to offer, nor did he even want the beautiful lady. Then the strangest thing happened, as he heard Lord Solomon’s deep voice call from the balcony above.

“Sir Braden, you were the man who accompanied the duke in stopping the war betwee
n my people and the Dolmars lately, are you not?”

“Pardon me
?” He turned his horse and looked up to the man. Every eye in the place was on him, awaiting his answer. He couldn’t help but think what other answers they wanted as well – ones he could not give them. “That was the duke alone who accomplished that feat,” he relayed.

“Nay,” Lord Solomon answered. “I saw you take an arrow for your lord as well. If it weren’t for you two, I would have lost many good soldiers that day.
I feel I am in your debt, good sir.”

“’Twas really nothing,
my lord,” he said. “I was only doing what any knight would do for his liege lord. And I would give my life if needed while paying fealty to the duke, my king and also my country. But there is no need for men to lose their lives in a battle that had never meant to be in the first place.”

Lord Solomon turned his large body and conversed softly to his daughter at
his side. Then he looked back to the crowd, holding his hand up for silence, as he prepared to address Braden.

“My daughter seems to fancy you above the rest,” he relayed. “And though the decision lies with me alone, I also admire you for your bravery
, even if you have less than the others to offer. So my decision is that you would be the one to take my daughter’s hand in marriage, as I know you would give your life to protect her.”

A shocked cry of surprise went up from the
crowd and Sir Braden sat atop his horse with his mouth open, just as stunned as the rest of them. He didn’t know how to respond, especially since he was no longer trying for the prize like the rest of the titled men. Now, suddenly things in his life were looking up. With just a word from Lord Solomon, his life had changed in a matter of minutes.

Mayh
ap he could learn to love the Lady Christabel in time. And mayhap his past would not be brought up again. By marrying her he’d make a name for himself and own lands and be wealthy. A fresh start. A new life to help him forget about his traumatic past and all that went with it. This was something he’d longed for his entire life. And while he desired the fae girl, he knew not where to find her, nor if he’d ever see her again. He’d wanted naught more than to leave a moment ago, but the appealing offer was indeed hard to refuse. This was a stroke of luck and something in his lifetime he was sure would never be repeated. He scratched his head and reconsidered.