ONE

 

Rapping his fingers on the desk irritably, he reached over his work and placed the elegantly long, fluffy, black feathered quill back in its holder as he sighed. Glancing out the window, he was distracted by the sight of the squirrel that had tormented him for days, constantly drawing his attention away from his work. He narrowed his blue eyes, watching the skittish creature take off up the tree as though its very life depended on it. He heard nothing, but the sight of a falcon swooping in from on high to try to claim the furry creature before it reached the safety of the tree’s canopy brought a merciless smile to his lips; then his thoughts shifted.

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Rearranging his parchments, securing them in the event of a draught entering his study in his absence, he reached for his cloak. It was spring, evident in the activity that buzzed around him both inside and out, but there was a chill in the air that he felt in his young bones. With his work secured and his awareness returning from the heady, intellectual pursuits of the morning, he permitted himself a moment of silence before the flood of awareness washed over him and he pushed his way through the heavy oak doors.

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Taking not more than a few steps into the hallway, his feet padding lightly on the highly polished, white marble floors, he tried to shield himself from the details. He could see that three people, other than himself, had traversed that path since it was last cleaned, two of them did so on a daily basis but the third…

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‘Nilis?’

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Halting at the sound of his name, he closed his eyes for a moment to calm his irritation. He didn’t often leave his confines for fear of running into people and being forced into the banal conversations that caused his head to hurt, but on the rare occasion that he did, he seldom did so without discovery. Forcing a smile to appear on his lips, he turned to view the young woman who had called to him, the third person who stalked those halls.

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‘Margeet,’ he said with false sincerity. ‘What can I do for you?’

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‘Would you care to take me into the gardens? Father says I cannot go alone and there seems to be no one else about,’ she ventured shyly.

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‘The gardens?’ Nilis asked with a frown. ‘It would appear from the dirt on the hem of your gown and the not-so-perfect form of your usually immaculately positioned curls that you’ve been out at least once already today.’

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Margeet was a lady of the king’s court and all that it entailed. Only eighteen summers had graced her face but she was more than proficient in the art of wooing young men. Nilis had no desire to be wooed, especially not by a woman such as her. With a personality that had more facets than the most intricately cut gem—none of which Nilis believed were genuine—he had known that her aim was to find a husband of standing and wealth. Two things she would not find in him, if she cared enough to look past his name.

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Without waiting for the young woman to respond to his observations, Nilis turned hurriedly, his cloak fanning out behind him in a way that he knew looked overly dramatic, but that couldn’t be helped. He was running out of time. If he did not make it outside soon, there would be little point.

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Hustling through the remainder of the halls, he focused his detail seeking eyes and tried, as he did every moment of every day, to see only that which mattered. The people, not the manner in which they had occupied themselves since they’d last bathed or changed clothes, were what were important. Some days he wished his mind could shut down so that he could converse with them like a normal person might but he was anything other than normal—and the only person that truly understood that about him was leaving.

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‘Excuse me,’ he said as he gently pushed his way through the crowd that always seemed to be milling at the doors of the king’s palace as he tried to exit the building. He was a guest there, he and his family, and though it had been interesting at first, the constant predictability of the people had begun to torment Nilis. He longed for something different, not just more of the same court politics and jostling for favor, it was why his hours were spent either locked up in his favored rooms or well beyond the palace grounds. There seemed to be no place in between where he belonged; unless Kadean was there.

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Positioned well away from the palace, beneath the shade of a tall ash tree waited a small, non-descript cart and an equally non-descript horse, though Nilis could see neither were as old and worn as they appeared. The horse was from the king’s own stables and though it had maintained its winter coat, and looked shabbier for it, the muscle that peeked through that hair was testament to the horse’s breeding. The rough wood of the wagon suggested it was poorly kept, but the amount of grease coating the twin axles that supported the wheels told Nilis otherwise. Well maintained where it mattered, the cart and horse were part of a plan to give the illusion of poverty and the tattered, worn out looking vagabond that stood next to the cart seemed only to enhance that image; were it not for his perfectly upright posture and the new cloak he wore—which had been rolled in the dust but a few moments before Nilis’ arrival.

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‘There you are, I thought you wouldn’t make it,’ the vagabond addressed him almost critically.

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‘I still don’t know why you won’t let me tag along,’ Nilis stated as he neared the wagon.

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‘Because blending in isn’t your strongest quality, Nilis.’ The man’s pale blue eyes softened. ‘One day, when I’m not required to hide my identity, I’ll take you on the grandest adventure you could imagine.’

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‘You’re lying,’ Nilis said, but he couldn’t conceal his smile. ‘You always opt for utmost sincerity when you lie, Kadean, you should try to work on that, unless you want everyone to know when you’re being dishonest.’

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Kadean laughed and pushed his hood free of his head. He had been growing his hair for years and it hung long, but the matted knots that were part of his guise prevented it from falling loose when the hood was removed. ‘Not so many people are as observant as you.’ Kadean studied him curiously and Nilis knew exactly what he was thinking.

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‘No,’ he said adamantly.

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‘Just once more before I go? It baffles me how you can do it.’

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‘No.’ Shaking his head, Nilis refused to partake in Kadean’s whimsical desire to see him retrace the older man’s steps. He could see that Kadean had not long ago spoken with his father, the presence of the white sword at his side was evidence enough of that, and the perfectly formed knots at the neck of his tunic suggested his sister had straightened the garment’s fixings as she said goodbye, her motherly instincts reluctant to send him off looking any less than well dressed. If only she’d known that he meant to look unkempt; but he kept these things to himself, refusing to bow to Kadean’s pressure.

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‘You’ll have plenty to say when I get back no doubt.’ With his pale eyes narrowed, he accepted that Nilis was not going to give him what he wanted and Nilis saw a rueful pride in his face at the younger man’s ability to deny him.

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‘I wouldn’t have to if I went with you.’

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Again Kadean laughed. ‘You’re still young, Nilis,’ he said as he turned to the wagon and began to climb up into the bed. The horse shifted its weight in anticipation of departure, another telling sign that the creature wasn’t an old, tired, wagon-pulling beast. ‘Soon, just like your cousins and your brothers, you’ll be begging me to leave you behind.’

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‘I doubt that,’ Nilis said with a laugh. ‘Stay safe, Kadean.’

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‘Have you ever known me not to?’ Kadean asked with a reckless tone in his otherwise happy voice.

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‘On occasion,’ Nilis replied ruefully as Kadean turned the wagon to pull away. ‘And tell Bihen I said hello!’

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‘What makes you think I’ll run across him?’ Kadean asked as the horse began to move down the path that would carry him out of the kingdom, wanting to know what it was that Nilis had observed.

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‘It was a guess,’ Nilis replied lamely and the man in the wagon threw back his white haired head and laughed once more.

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‘Nothing is ever a guess with you!’

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