She expected the guards to react differently when she decided to go for a walk so late into the night. Maud couldn’t sleep. Not because of the mattress—which certainly wasn’t as comfortable as the one she left behind—nor because of the festival, or really any other reason. She just wasn’t ready to sleep yet.
She felt drained after the Ribbon Dances, but not tired, just…drained. She didn’t ask to go back, she merely said her goodbyes and went. And, like when she decided that she wanted to take a midnight walk, no one batted an eye or said anything edgewise. They only smiled and made sure she was alright before seeing that she was on her way.
Maybe a word of warning or a flat refusal to let her out of her room, that’s what she was expecting. Maud had braced herself for them to stand in her way, or call for Draka or Enya, or something other than them merely playing two rounds of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ to decide who went with her. It was Radhya who lost because Yi knew she would choose rock every time. It made her smile.
Maud wandered the bailey at first. The festival had long since quieted in the village. The drawbridge was down, but both wooden gates were shut with standing watchmen—Clerics with bows in hand and maces on their belts—sitting on stools with their eyes through narrow slits of the walls. Oil lamps hung from poles along the walls and there was an iron furnace near the well where a few Monastics were gathered with their hands warming over it. Their light made the sky nothing more than a bland sheet of darkness beyond the lamplights.
She walked quietly by the stalls to see if Rosemary was awake and was glad to see she had gotten comfortable in the warmth of her stall with her back curled into the stacks of hay. Vigora and Adrian’s horse were one heap of white fur, indecipherable from each other but for their touching noses, one with grays and the other still softly pink. Radhya checked on her own horse with a mother’s grin at its sleeping form.
As Maud made her way up the steps that rose to the top of the walls, she felt the aura of heat from the furnaces fade from over her and hugged her cloak over her robe against the cool breeze rising from the lake. The aura was that of light, with each step she took toward the catwalk of the walls, that faded with the heat, and she was doused in what she had hoped to see in the first place: the sky. The darkness from the bailey became watercolors of blues splashed and sprayed above her, sprinkled with twinkling stars and a misshapen moon peeking through drifting clouds. Fully above the aura of light, she saw it all; blues smeared and splashed, stars and the moon, drifting clouds, and the blurs of where they came together because she couldn’t see any clear beginning or end of their shapes. Even the moon had a halo around it.
The wall was thicker than Maud thought it was. There was enough room for her and Radhya to walk side by side without bumping the knights standing at the parts where the pointed tops were sawed off for them to look out through called crenels. Maud had always thought that it ended with the roof of the Great Hall that extended over the lake from the island. Instead, it followed the roof’s edge all the way around and had steps on all sides to the tower at the center—which she also thought was more centered on the island—and continued until it went down the other side of the bailey.
Maud thought about venturing up into the tower. There was a hanging fire in it and the shadows of knights within. But she decided against it when she saw Radhya’s nervous glances.
Perhaps she was going where she shouldn’t and that would get her Cleric guard in trouble. And the breeze had turned into wind that made her ears numb from this height. She imagined it must be that much colder in the tower that was high enough to be like climbing to the loft window from the ground just to get to the floor of. Instead, she continued with her head to the stars. There were nods to the Clerics and Monastics who bowed their greetings to her as she passed.
At least until she found Adrian sitting on the wall. He was sitting in the crenel with his back to her, leaning his shoulder into the taller wall while resting his head there. He had one leg up, braced on the other side of the crenel with his foot, to rest his elbow on that knee with a hand that danced to the silence broken only by the brush of the wind. He was in a different coat than she had seen him in before. It was shorter, barely met the belt of his trousers or covered the spilling cotton shirt from being tucked into them. His curved sword wasn’t sheathed in its wide, straight sheath on his back, but glinted with stars and torchlight from his belt without a sheath. At least he wasn’t barefoot, Maud thought when she saw his half-buckled boots.
“Please tell me this isn’t why we came out,” Radhya’s nostrils were rising at her as she whispered.
Maud shook her head. Of course she had no idea he would be up here!
“Don’t mind me,” Adrian didn’t turn to them. “Move along, Cleric.”
“You are in the presence of the Princess, Ward,” Radhya snapped.
Adrian’s head whipped with wide eyes. “Princess!” And he fell backwards, floundering to grip the wall until he disappeared beyond it.
Maud and Radhya screamed, both leaping to grab him, both grabbing for air. Maud was the one who screamed his name. Loud as a siren.
Maybe that was why she didn’t hear the splash. She looked over the edge, down at the black of the lake so far below. The gritty texture of the lapping waves were unchanged. He had been swept under…
“You’re really loud, you know that?” Adrian climbed back onto the crenel from the side and sat beside her.
Maud’s fingers bent like claws, stretching her stitches with a sharp sting. She hissed at him, cradling her hand while balling her other fist, aiming for that smug grin of his. Radhya socked him in the shoulder for her. His chuckling nod was halfhearted.
“Didn’t meant to scare you. The roof actually extends out a little,” Adrian slid a little to let Maud and Radhya look.
They both glared at him.
There was no grin this time, just a solemn, “Sorry.”
“Why didn’t anyone move from the tower? No one came to help,” Maud looked around.
“The watch in the docks would hear the splash and get me,” Adrian shrugged. “They can’t leave their posts.”
“You’re a fool, sitting there like that,” Radhya was shaking her head. The way she rolled her ‘R’s made Maud’s ears perk. When Radhya’s angry, her native accent comes out with a vengeance. “Like a child! I should kick you off so you know why not to do such things!”
“Good grief, Cleric, I said I was sorry,” Adrian furrowed his brow, “What else do you want me to do? I didn’t exactly come up here to have a polite conversation with anyone or be snuck up on. I fully intended to have a nice bout of brooding and feeling sorry for myself without interruption before bed. Apparently, that was too much to ask on such a festive night.”
Radhya looked like she was going to say something but stopped. For some reason, it was the moment that she saw the memory of Adrian shifting his curious gaze from her to Karl before he defended her flutter through her mind. She looked at her stitched finger.
“My father died not so long ago, too,” Maud lifted herself onto the crenel beside him, though she had her back half braced on the wall. “I’m sorry for your loss and I know how hard it can be. Trust me, I know.”
Adrian adjusted himself so his feet were dangling over the lake and his eyes peered out somewhere in the distance. He nodded with a hesitation, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.
Radhya went to a stool nearby and sat with a huff. Maud mouthed, ‘thank you.’ Radhya shook her head at first, but nodded after.
“I appreciate that,” Adrian shook his head, “But that’s not…” He blinked at her. “Did you read the book I gave you? Probably haven’t even looked at it.”
“No,” Maud held up her stitched finger with a scoff, “I’ve been a little busy, ward number two. And don’t change the subject. It’s not what?”
“Ward number two?” Adrian turned away to scratch his chin. “Ouch. I think that hurt more than the spider’s kettle.”
Maud kept her gaze on him.
He gulped and let out a long breath. “Fine, your Grace. It’s not about my father. It’s about something else. Different.” He was shaking his head. “I really want to throw or eat something.”
Maud pulled her knees up so that she was better covered by the cloak from the cold. “Why are you so odd? Throw or eat? Well, we can eat if we go inside where it’s warm, for one. And why throw something?”
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“Momentary bliss,” Adrian grinned. “Both. There are other ways, but those are the easiest and least consequential of options. If you are cold, you should go inside. I’m fine. Really.”
“Stop making me beg, Adrian Taggerty,” Maud regarded him with her head leaning back against the round edge of the wooden wall. “If you don’t want to talk about it, say so. If you do, then tell me and I will listen, but stop dodging me as if you’re an elk running from my arrow. I’m a much better shot than you think.”
Adrian cleared his throat. His eyes drifted to hers and away. “I wonder what Draka has told you about his life before here. About me.”
“Not much, honestly,” Maud winced at that.
She never thought to ask. There were a few times, here and there, when she had asked him where he had gotten things or why he did things a certain way, but never just asked him what happened. It was upsetting to think that she never cared to.
She softened, “I’ve figured some things out, but never really asked, I guess. I had no idea he ever had another ward. But I also only started learning to read a few months ago.”
Adrian cocked a brow at her, “I thought you were as educated as I am. Shit, I should have given you the bloody apple.”
Maud chuckled, “I’m pretty good at it. I’ve read the bible through and I understood it. And Pierre has me reading Plato, Homer, and the Patricians.” Then, as an afterthought, “I do like apples, too.”
Adrian grinned. His grin faded. “It was the music and the dancing. Just reminded me of…things. Of someone.”
“Someone you loved?” Maud studied the way he looked at her then. No, she realized when his eyes met hers, she was completely mistaken.
“She was very kind to me,” Any hint of a grin on Adrian’s face faded, “treated me as if I were Draka’s son instead of his ward. And, yes, I liked her. She was fun to be around and could cook. You’d never believe they came from the same family with the way that Draka cooks, believe you me. But Lorelei? She could make your tongue sing with every bite.”
Maud shook her hand and head at him, “Wait, who? Family? You mean, Draka’s actual family? You met his family?”
There was heaviness in his answer, “I did, yes. His sister, at least. Lorelei.”
Maud studied him for a moment before deciding against her better judgment. “What happened?” It was a hesitant whisper.
“Paladins of the Order of Saint Olga attacked her while Draka and I were hunting with her husband,” Adrian was looking at his hands. They were shaking. Maud wanted to cover them. She kept her hands tucked under her cloak as she listened while he continued, “She had been a high priestess—converted sometime between Draka’s wife dying and when we arrived there—and the Paladins thought she was still one. They burned her at the stake along with twenty other members of her village, including her husband’s family and...her children.”
Maud’s mouth fell open. “I didn’t know Paladins did that.”
“They don’t,” the moon reflected in his eyes. “The Holy Spirit wants us to fight demons and save souls. Hard to do when you burn them alive. They weren’t getting their commands from the Holy Spirit or God. And they tied Lorelei up with her children and threw oil on them, lit them on fire while they held Draka down, forcing him to say the Paladin’s Oath and the Our Father over and over to prove his faith while their screams were silenced by their choking.” His voice drifted off along with his eyes.
“We kept Saint John with us,” his eyes never regained focus, “everywhere we went, from Okupniki to Budapest to Kiev to Riga to Narva to Saint Peter’s to Yaroslavl and into Siberia, we had his bones with us.”
Is he talking about… “You’re not talking about the relic that Draka got the vow of silence for, are you?”
Adrian nodded, regaining focus when he looked at her. “It wasn’t just Heblem that fell, you know. It was all over Anatolia and throughout the Aegian. We had to go by land to get to Sodiulakim and the Celestes were hounding us and our cohorts the entire way, pushing us eastward with every step we took north. So, we rounded the Carpathian Mountains and thought we’d pay her visit. He hadn’t seen her since before I was born.” He tucked his own hands when he noticed how much they were shaking and shifted his entire body as if he were trying to slide away from her. “That was the end of us trying to evade them on our way to Sodiulakim. We didn’t cross into the Deutschlands. We turned east under the Order’s Rally. Our Order, the Order of the Holy Sepulcher, declared war on the Order of Saint Olga the moment that the Paladins let Draka on his feet. I don’t know if the Holy Spirit was commanding him that day, I don’t know if God had even given us permission, but we all drew blood that day. We slaughtered the Paladins and Clerics in the village and burned their church to cinders on top of the nuns and priests who had condemned those innocents to die before our friars reconsecrated the ashes of its foundations.”
Maud was speechless as she listened. Barely able to breathe. Barely able to blink her eyes away from the torment written across his features. Those handsome features that were hardened with a fiery anger that had still yet to be stoked.
“For five years, we were the vanguard of the Order,” Adrian refused to meet her gaze. “Village to village, city to city. We forced cathedrals and their cohorts to renounce their allegiance or oaths to the Saint Olgas or meet judgment. Some did, others did not. And those that did not…we sent to face God’s judgment.” He let out a long sigh and raked a hand through his hair, “I saw a thousand charging Paladins get revoked in a storm of red light mid-battle against us, Princess. We were in the right. But it was…it didn’t feel any less wrong at the same time. These were men and women who fought the same demons we did. And God was revoking them by the thousands right before our eyes. And what made it worse was that they didn’t lose their abilities like they should have. They still blasted us, still healed their wounds, still used the Gifts of the Saints against us, as if they weren’t corrupted.”
Maud felt far colder than the wind could ever make her. Chills were climbing up and down her spine at the thought.
Adrian finally met her gaze, “They were being strengthened by fallen angels. Celestes had infiltrated them and were among them. And, like all people, not all Celestes want to kill you outright. Some are good, kind people who will tend your wounds, feed you, give you a place to sleep even though you’re the enemy, just because it is the coldest day of winter and it’s cruel to make anyone be out there in the cold like that. Those kinds of people are the ones who danced with Draka and Olaf that way. Who taught me to dance that way. Of course, Draka and Olaf already knew how to dance like that. They’re rooted in that culture, but those people, in the east, who we found filling out enemies ranks during the battles and our bellies in the nights under the roofs they kept us warm in…they danced like that, too. I made friends that I killed a few days after in battles that would make demons have nightmares. I danced with them, too. Some even wanted me to marry their sisters, their daughters.” He smiled, though she was certain there were tears hidden behind those dried eyes, “A few mothers, too.”
Adrian let silence linger. He looked out across the lake with a motion of his hand that drew Maud to turn. She had never been so high before. It was as if the world had become smaller and she could see out across a blanket of tiny blurry shapes of trees and hills that formed the horizon. Even the lake looked like she could reach her hand out and scoop up half of it with one swipe.
“It’s odd, but I miss them,” Adrian said finally. “I miss the dances, too. I miss those nights, sleeping in those barns and overcrowded halls, smelling like ale and sweat and burning wood. It was disgusting.”
His chuckle and lighthearted grin made Maud smile through her own horror at all he had said. His hazel eyes peered up at her, their playful twinkle lost in a haze of bewilderment. “After what happened to my father, I used to wish that I had died with my friends in the war. When we finished them off at Tomsk, I definitely should’ve—by all accounts—I should’ve.”
Maud furrowed her brow at that.
“I think I figured out why I didn’t,” Adrian’s eyes were piercing deep into hers. “I’m glad I didn’t,” he looked away, “I mean.”
“I was at Tomsk,” Radhya piped in. “Many of our Order were. Enya was our commander on the southern front. We saw your Order cut through them like Moses through the Red Sea. Ours were the ones who pressed them to break their lines in two at the ridge.”
Adrian grinned. “God bless you for that, cause Draka and I were on the ridge. We thought you were the angels God sent out of heaven to save us.”
“Maybe they still are,” Maud smiled. “And,” she gulped down the want to grab him. Draka, her pauper knight, and Adrian, her…hero. “I can’t imagine you…you couldn’t have been much older than my brother when this all began for you.” She asked Radhya, “When was this battle?”
“Two years past,” Radhya answered. “Well, little less than.”
Maud’s mouth dropped as if it were holding a dozen horses. He was eleven when it all began. Eleven! No, that can’t be right. There is no way an eleven-year-old could have fought in battles, fought a war, any of this. Draka wouldn’t have let him do any actual fighting, would he?
“You were…too young to…”
Adrian’s look hardened.
“He’s a Justiciar, Princess,” Radhya answered for him. “Battleborn. Rare, but God called many in those battles who were young. They’re not like us Clerics or Paladins. They are granted insight because of proximity to our efforts. Some answer the call as he did and are granted gifts, others do not. He was blessed with a teacher and guardian who taught him well and kept him alive through one of the bloodiest conflicts in Paladinate history. We won’t see it, but our descendants will find a book added to the third testament, likely to be called the third book of paladinate, detailing that war as a warning of why we do not pass judgment ourselves. The Order of Saint Olga broke their tenets as followers of Christ and it was the Order of the Holy Sepulcher whom God gave authority to exact His judgment upon them. The Ward was one whose hand was given some of that authority. What you did, ward, was righteous and true in the eyes of Jehovah thy God and you should be glad that you were found worthy of such a heavy burden. I am awed to be in your presence and honored to hear your testament this night. I hope that gives you ease in your thoughts and you will be the subject of my prayers tonight.”
Adrian blinked at her for a moment before nodding and rubbing at his eyes with a snivel. “Thank you.” Then, after running a finger under his nose, “Any chance you can ask for my shield to appear in my room when I wake up during those prayers? When Draka finds out how I lost it, I’m going to be scrubbing bidets and toilets until he dies of old age.”
