Things like that just didn’t happen. Not to me.
We discussed the coming Candidacy, and they promised they would be there to watch Alex and me participate. “The girls should be able to run the shop by then.” We discussed the wedding, and my father was the first to inquire on the absence of a date. When I tried to explain my mother grew quiet.
It was only as I was saddling my horse the next morning that she finally spoke. “Be careful, Ryiah. I can’t imagine the king is pleased with whatever his son did to win you a seat at their table.”
I nodded, mutely. It wasn’t something I hadn’t already considered. My plan was to stay as far away from the king and his heir as possible. Yet another reason to accept Commander Nyx’s offer.
From there it was a swift farewell and a return to the well-traveled dirt road that led up a steep trail to the great forest of the north. King’s Road skirted the base of the Iron Mountains, and the remainder of our trip was uneventful. Paige and I spent each night at an inn along the way, and we made good time.
When we finally spotted a giant stone fortress built into one of the mountains themselves I let out a deep sigh of relief. Next to me, I heard Paige do the same.
It was a magnificent picture. With the setting of the sun just an hour behind us the great keep was made alive by hundreds of flickering yellow dots. The torches lined each wall, up and up each subsequent lookout until the light finally disappeared from a dark shadowy alcove into the mountain itself.
From where we stood I could catch the sheen of metal glittering off the wall’s lowest sentries along the walk. It wound from the fortress’s lowest point to the base of the mountain floor.
I gathered my reins, and then nudged my mare forward.
Ferren’s Keep.
We had arrived.
****
“Please state your name and purpose.”
Paige and I declared ourselves to the guard at the edge of the dais, holding our horses in place as we presented our official papers—my summons from Commander Nyx, and Paige’s signed orders from King Lucius.
The soldier and his two comrades examined the documentation carefully, verifying the seals to make sure they weren’t forgeries. When they found what they were looking for, the lead waved us forward with a rattle of chainmail in passing.
We continued along the raised walkway, horseshoes clattering against the paved road, until we reached the fortress’s base: a protruding barbican with yet another set of guards guarding its gate.
We presented our papers again, and the gate was raised. Once more the process was repeated inside with another set of guards and another gate, and then we gave our horses to an awaiting hostler as we followed a steep set of stairs and then a long tunnel into the keep itself.
Spiraling floor after floor, chamber after chamber, everywhere we looked hundreds of supplies flooded the space of each storeroom. A giant well, barrels of grain, great mounds of firewood, weighted artillery, and racks. Racks of swords, knives, javelins, and every type of armor one could hope to imagine: chainmail, breastplates, arm guards, spare tunics, and breeches. The inside of the fortress was armed to withstand a siege.
I had seen it all during my last year of the apprenticeship, but I could tell Paige was impressed now. The frown she usually wore was nowhere in sight. The knight walked around with wide eyes and gawked unabashedly with each step we took.
After the storerooms we passed a locked set of reinforced doors—the Commander’s private meeting chambers and her personal quarters, followed by an open, much larger space for regiment meetings. It was only a matter of minutes before we reached the men’s barracks, a long parade of rows with cots lining the wall for as far back as the eye could see. Beyond them, I knew, were the women’s quarters, and just a bit further, leading out of the tunnel and through another set of guards, was the small village of Ferren, named after the keep because its only entry and exit was through the fortress’s guarded tunnel itself.
Ferren was settled in a small—very minute—valley and decorated by steep, impassable crags on every side. Because of its size and location, it had become home to the kingdom’s best blacksmiths, renowned men and women who furnished the northern defenses and supplied the Crown’s Army with the finest steel one could buy. In some ways, the mass production of Jerar weaponry was the most valuable resource the Crown had, and as such the keep’s village was reserved to local regiment and blacksmiths only—with the exception of a small but hospitable staff for general upkeep.
I led Paige to the women’s barracks and we began to unpack. The door was left open. Both barracks were empty, which meant the regiment was taking dinner in the dining commons on the second floor.