From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [55]
Vrell scanned the crowd for this critical onlooker who was bold enough to judge but unwilling to assist a lady in need. He stood with two much taller men. He was young, not yet a man, and horribly familiar.
Reggio Levy’s gaze locked onto Vrell the moment she recognized him. She pushed herself to her feet and ran.
“Stop that woman!” Reggio screamed, like a boy throwing a temper fit.
Vrell darted past dancing couples, toward Gren and Noam, then thought better of it. For Lord Nathak might try and capture Gren too. Then what would become of her child?
Vrell veered left around a cottage and collided with a soldier, who clapped his arms around her like irons.
“Let me go!” She kicked the unyielding oak of a man.
“Not on yer life, missy.” He dragged Vrell back to the Corner. The music stopped. Everyone stood staring.
Reggio strutted across the clearing, a nasty smirk upon his face. “Why, Lady Averella. What brings you to Sitna? Or do you go by Vrell Sparrow these days?” Reggio yelled “Vrell Sparrow,” as if he were hoping the minstrel might make a song of him catching the infamous lady-turned-stray.
Vrell straightened her posture in the guard’s grip. “Good evening, Master Levy. I hear Sitna has the best blacksmith in Carm Duchy. I am in need of a new sword.”
He snorted. “You expect me to believe you came to Sitna for a sword? There’s a price on your head, in case you were unaware. One my father will be pleased to accept.”
“I hear your father has been demoted to Lord of Sitna Manor. My, how well evil men are rewarded. When I get my new sword, Master Levy, I shall test its sharpness on you.”
Reggio’s cheeks pinked, but he chuckled as if she had made a joke. “You, my lady, are going to the dungeon. There will be no swords for you to wield there.”
9
The overwhelming smell of tobacco woke Achan. A lantern hung on a hook at the foot of his bed, blinding him to anything beyond the canopy. His stinging eyes led him to believe it was still night. But he had stayed up far too late the past few nights, seeking a way around Sparrow’s shields. Maybe it was nearly morning. Or perhaps a dream?
He sensed excitement. Another lesson from the duchess?
“Achan Cham,” a man said.
Achan jolted and rolled over. With the lantern at his back, he could see better. Sir Gavin, Sir Eagan, Sir Caleb, and Shung stood in a line beside his bed, dressed for battle.
Achan sat up so fast his head spun. “Another attack?”
The men simply stared past him. Achan turned to see what they were looking at, but saw nothing strange but Matthias’s empty pallet. Where had the lad gone?
Sir Gavin’s voice pulled Achan’s gaze back to the men. “As a male Er’Retian past sixteen years, you are a man. You received no manhood ceremony to commemorate such a momentous occasion. Tonight we will rectify that.”
Achan’s head tingled. Manhood ceremony?
Sir Gavin peered down upon Achan. “Do you wish to become a man?”
Achan looked from face to face, the night air cool inside his gaping mouth. All four men now fixed their gazes on him. He felt underdressed—he was wearing only his trousers. The beating in his chest drew his eyes back to Sir Gavin’s. “Aye, sir.”
“Stand then, Achan Cham.”
Achan crawled out of bed and stood, facing the knights.
“As to your achievements,” Sir Gavin said, “these past months I watched you train harder and withstand more pressure than any man of any age.”
Then Sir Eagan spoke, “I witnessed your mercy as you pardoned prisoners. Your tenacity as you sought out a traitor.”
“You felled Esek.” Shung stomped one foot on the floor. “Killed the great cham bear.” Another stomp.
“You surrendered to Arman,” Sir Caleb said, “accepted Câan’s sacrifice and plan for your life. I say you are a man.”
Achan’s chest tightened.
“As to your character,” Sir Gavin said. “You are smart, the quickest study I’ve ever seen. And I find your perseverance under trial inspiring.”
“You are good-natured and moral,” Sir Caleb said.
“Brave and honorable.” Shung stomped again.
“You have a high regard for all people,