The Lost Endeavour Read online

  “My lord,” he returned.

  Several of the women below murmured something, and Dray glanced down at the group as a couple of glares turned towards Belle. Her face burned red. She hadn’t shared the information then.

  “Shall I give you the tribute now?” the lord asked with a smirk. “Or are you simply here to tell me it is already accepted?”

  “Neither,” the king said. “My uncle expects it, and the tribute is willing, although I don’t like how it was done.”

  “There are nine; the crown demands ten. One of our own will go.”

  The king looked down at the group. Now that Belle had joined them, Dray thought the ten were present.

  “Do you steal all your tribute?” the king asked. Dray wondered if he had considered the numbers himself.

  “The soldiers come tomorrow to collect.”

  The king actually sighed, and Dray wondered just what these men might be able to negotiate.

  “Dahli,” the lord called. A beautiful young woman appeared in the doorway behind them. “Show the king to our best room, and then the tribute to the waiting house.”

  She bowed her head. “Your Majesty,” she said softly, indicating back the way they had come.

  The king stared for a moment and then followed, Dray a step behind. They moved back through the doorway to appear on another walkway. The men who had lined them appeared to have moved on, and they followed the young woman from tree to tree before a hut appeared at the end of a walkway. She stood to the side of the doorway, almost lost in the leaves of the tree it appeared to be built around, and held out a hand. The king moved past her and pulled open the door. A room that might have been in any castle opened up before them, and Dray was tempted to push past the king. Which, after too long standing in the doorway, he did.

  Windows looked out over the green world around them. Several had been set into the ceiling above them and looked up into the trees. The effect was to give the room a green glow. It was a large, comfortable space. A long table with two bench seats running either side could easily have seated ten. Then he noticed that the tree he’d thought would be growing through the middle of the room wasn’t there.

  He walked over to where it should have been and reached out a hand. A huge square bed stood against one wall. Soft, deep chairs were pulled together in another part of the room, and several cupboards lined the walls. There was no fire, but the space was comfortably warm.

  “How?” he asked.

  “It just is,” she said.

  The king stood inside the door staring, but Dray wasn’t sure if it was at the strange space or the girl. She smiled and bowed her head before turning back to the door.

  “Who is the other tribute?” the king asked as she moved through the door.

  “Your Majesty,” she said with a bow of her head.

  “Why?” he asked.

  She blinked at him for a moment, and Dray wondered if she was offended by the questions. Or was she trying to find a way to explain it?

  “I am the lord’s sister,” she said.

  “Duty?” the king asked.

  “It may be my only chance for a life of my own,” she answered, standing tall. Dray was reminded of Belle. “No one would risk my brother’s ire by courting me or asking for my hand. If I stay, I will live my life alone in servitude to the lord, or to the man of his choosing.”

  “You may find your life similar in the capital. You may not get the choices you expect.”

  “No, but it would be for me alone that they would choose, and not for my brother’s favour.”

  The king bowed his head.

  “I understand it will not be ideal,” she went on. “Women have so few options.”

  “So I am learning,” the king admitted. “I wish you well.”

  She bowed her head and left, pulling the door closed behind her.

  “I think they are trying to win your favour,” Dray said.

  “Were there not ten girls?” the king asked. He stepped carefully into the room, as though the tree that should have grown through the floor would suddenly appear.

  Dray nodded and wondered if the lord intended to keep one of the intended tribute for himself. Sending his sister seemed a strange choice. Although it appeared that the women of the kingdom were stronger than he had anticipated. They were being sold on like bags of wheat, and yet they had turned such a thing into an option, as though they would be better for it. He was beginning to believe that they might. Many of them were poor and, like Belle, didn’t have much of a life to return to. Marrying well in the capital could change their lives, and those of their future children.

  Dray would like a chance to talk to the lord himself. But that wasn’t what soldiers did. If Ana had been there, she would have included Dray in any discussions, but he wondered if this young lord did things differently, and if he might have seen the benefit of keeping Ana for himself. She certainly wasn’t a maid any longer.

  “Dray?” the king asked. Dray wondered if he had been trying to get his attention for a time.

  “Ten,” he said.

  “Which one does the sister replace?” the king asked more urgently.

  “I don’t know,” Dray said honestly, and far too loudly, as there was a knock at the door.

  Eilke stood on the other side when Dray stepped forward and opened it. He entered the space without acknowledgement and turned serious eyes to the king.

  “What is it?” Dray asked, not sure he wanted to know.

  “They wish to keep the farmer in payment for the lost men.”

  “Ahh,” the king said, his shoulders slumping. “The fight and deaths are on my hands as well.”

  “You are the king; they will not ask of you. They are willing to continue with the tribute, but families have requested retribution.”

  “How many did you kill?” Dray asked.

  “Three or four,” the king murmured. “What has Belle said?”

  “She does not know. For the moment, they have her separated from the others.”

  The king sighed again. “Why?”

  “It appears that the tribute offered by the Forest Lord will include his sister. He said that Belle is the least beautiful and at risk of offending the crown.”

  “What will he do?” the king asked, desperation clear in his voice.

  Eilke shook his head.

  “I could talk with him.”

  “Not until he is ready to see you.”

  “But he would want an answer to the farmer, if we are willing to give him up. I was to blame for as much as he was. They stole the girls.”

  “As girls have been stolen before. Such things occur each time a province is to give this tribute.”

  “I understood them willing,” the king snapped.

  “They may be when the time comes, but this is the way of it.”

  “You or your chief talked those girls into wanting to come.”

  “We gave them the options.”

  “Has he seen anything in the forest?” the king asked, and Dray wondered for a moment what he was asking.

  “The creature of shadows has not returned.”

  “You are sure?”

  “The trees cry out here,” Eilke said, a pained expression on his face, “but they would still tell of such an intruder.”

  Dray nodded once, looking back to the middle of the room.

  “This was created long ago, by a magic that no one understands within the lord’s seat. Yet it continues, and the trees grow up around the space. They cry, but they have always cried.”

  The king nodded, although he looked around the room as though trying to determine how it might occur.

  “There is magic in the trees,” Dray said, remembering something Ana had asked.

  “This is different.”

  Dray bowed his head to the man. He wondered who could have harnessed it, but he might never know. “Let us see the lord,” the king said.

  “I cannot help you,” Eilke said, bowing his head. “I must retu
rn.”

  ֍

  Ed bowed his head to the lord, who sat at the head of a long table. His sister, Dahli, sat to one side and Belle the other, but he did not look happy that Ed would come to him before being sent for. He was the king, after all; perhaps it was time he started acting like it.

  “What is it you want from us?” Ed asked before the man could say anything.

  He raised his eyebrows a little, clearly surprised that the boy king would speak out. But he said nothing, only glancing at the woman to his right. Belle. Ed tried not to show the anger that was building in his chest. She had chosen to join the others and go to the capital. The lord was choosing a different path for her.

  “I was involved in the death of those men.”

  “I understand,” the lord said, indicating the bench beside his sister. But Ed shook his head, only to have the other man’s face darken.

  “What do you want of Phillip?”

  “Payment,” the man said simply.

  “He has nothing he could pay you with,” Ed said. “He is a poor farmer.”

  “He has much he could pay for those men’s lives with.” The lord rested his hand on Belle’s, and she looked down at the table. Dray came up to stand beside him, but he couldn’t take his eyes from Belle. She would sacrifice herself for her father, but he couldn’t let it happen.

  “Your men had taken her in the first place.”

  “You would want her for yourself.”

  “She is tribute for my uncle,” Ed said quickly. He didn’t want his words to endanger her further, but he had no understanding of how such negotiations occurred. He might very well be putting her in more danger. He half expected her accusing eyes to glare at him, but she hadn’t raised them from the table.

  “Then you will leave me the father,” the lord said.

  As Ed shook his head, she raised sad eyes and gave the smallest nod. She would sacrifice herself for him when he had gone through so much, and travelled so far to save her. Although Ed would have done the same for Salima, he knew Master Forest would keep her safe.

  “What will you take in exchange?”

  “There is no exchange,” the lord said, standing. He released his hold, and Belle quickly pulled her hands from the table into her lap. “Although…” He said it as though just finding an idea, but Ed was sure the man had it already planned. He looked to the sister on the other side of the table. A beautiful woman, olive skin, her dark eyes on her brother. A flush filled her cheeks. Ed wasn’t sure if that was because she realised what he was suggesting and was shy or angry.

  “I am tribute,” she said, her voice strong and determined.

  “To the crown,” the lord said, grinning.

  “You would use me, still.”

  He scowled at her.

  “I suppose if your sister sat on the throne beside me,” Ed said, “you would think that an advantage. But it would elevate her above your station, and I would heed her word above yours.”

  “She is a woman,” the lord snapped.

  “No, you propose she would be Queen. I can’t even reach my own throne, so I fail to see how you would see that an advantage.”

  Dray growled something under his breath. Ed was sure it was a warning, but he was flying by the seat of his pants here.

  “Dahli,” Ed said carefully, taking a step forward and holding out his hand to her.

  She took it and stood from the table.

  “If you were to be Queen, what would you do for your brother?”

  She turned a dark look back his way. “Nothing. It is the lord’s place to show fealty. It would not be for you or I to bow down to his whims.”

  “Whims?” The lord scowled, raising a hand quickly towards the woman, and Ed pulled her behind him. Belle leaned back from the table.

  “I may have to talk to my uncle about how willing your tribute is,” Ed mused.

  “Then I keep the farmer and his daughter.”

  “And if I have your sister, you are short on what you owe the kingdom.”

  The man growled, and Dray stood before him, his sword drawn. “You might reconsider how you address your king.”

  “There must be ten. If you keep my sister for yourself, I will claim you stole the best of the tribute for yourself.”

  “You offered your sister. If I leave her, and I meet her in the capital, it would be nothing.”

  “You would take from the tribute?” the man sneered. “Can you not find better?”

  “Are the tribute not the best you have to offer? And who better than the sister of a province lord?”

  The man growled and the woman flinched, still pressed into his side with her hand tight in his.

  “I will stay,” Belle said, bowing her head.

  Ed took in her sad face. “I will not accept that either.”

  “You are hard to please,” she murmured, a small smile lighting her face as she lifted her eyes.

  “I am King. Aren’t kings fickle?”

  Her smile broadened.

  “We will discuss it with the soldiers tomorrow,” Ed said. “In the meantime, the women are to stay with the tribute.”

  The lord scowled, but he bowed his head.

  Ed nodded to the girl and released her hand. Without looking at her brother, she took Belle’s arm and pulled her from the room.

  “We shall discuss payment for your men later. I would talk to the farmer.”

  “You have no rights here. No one knows you are here.”

  “Someone knows I’m in the forest, someone you don’t want searching your trees for me.”

  The lord’s look changed, and although Ed couldn’t quite read it, the man nodded.

  “I will eat in my rooms. Send the farmer directly.”

  He turned and walked out, Dray following close behind. Once he was back in the privacy of his own room, he leaned heavily against the table, his legs threatening to give way.

  “Well, you certainly sounded like a king,” Dray said, and Ed looked up at the grinning man.

  “Do you think it will work?”

  “Hard to tell. Are you sure you don’t want the sister for a queen? She is very beautiful.”

  Ed smiled and shook his head. No matter how he had treated Belle, he feared she would not approve. But he had to find a way to take one of them out of the tribute and save Phillip. There was a knock at the door, and it swung open before Dray could reach it. Ed stood straight up from the table and saw Belle in the doorway, tears streaking down her cheeks.

  “He’s gone,” she blurted.

  Disbelief washed over Ed as he crossed the room and took her in his arms. She clung to him while sobs wracked her body.

  “He’s gone,” she murmured into his chest.

  Chapter 23

  Salima watched Papa pace before the fire. He would stop occasionally and look towards the door, but Salima doubted Ana would use the door if she returned. Still, she turned towards it expectantly when it clicked.

  The tall man, Ende, was almost a disappointment. Salima sighed and turned back to her father, who had started to pace again. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, Salima was itching to get out and see what she could find for herself. But she didn’t want to risk running across whatever it was that had caused the death in the practice halls.

  She hadn’t seen much, but she had smelt the blood—a lot of blood. And the look on her father’s face, and the soldier’s, was enough to tell her she didn’t want to see anything.

  “You don’t think Ana did this?” she asked.

  “The body has gone.” Ende’s voice was low to prevent their being discovered, and yet it vibrated through her. She longed to know more about him. She sensed a heat from him that both drew her forward and pushed her away. It was an odd sensation.

  “Gone where?” Papa asked, stopping mid-step.

  The tall man shook his head. Salima could feel something from him, ebbing like his heat. Concern? Uncertainty? Fear.

  “You think Ana did this,” she said.
/>   “She may have been there, but I think this is something very different.”

  The door swung open, and the cleric stood in the doorway, motioning them forward. “There has been another,” the old man wheezed, as though he had run all the way to the room. “By the river.”

  “A child,” Ende said, not a question.

  The cleric nodded. “As before.”

  Papa growled something as they all raced from the room. Salima took a moment to lock the door behind them before she followed along the hallway. Papa suddenly stopped and looked back.

  “I am not staying on my own,” Salima said before he could order her back. He glanced at the tall man before he nodded.

  They followed the cleric through the castle and into the courtyard, where too many people were gathered. Her father pushed his way forward, Ende behind him, and Salima followed in their wake.

  Lying face down amidst the silent crowd was a small boy. He looked as though he had been pulled from the river, although he wasn’t wet. His skin was pale, blue from the cold—or perhaps because he was dead. His face looked as though he rested, his eyes closed, his lips pressed together. A scratch crossed his arm, three scratches, as though some animal had clawed at him. But they were broad, indicating a large animal. This was just as her father had described to the regent.

  The cleric rolled the child over, and Salima pushed a hand to her face. His stomach was torn open. The beast had fought back, or devoured him. She could feel the hot tears running over her cheeks and fingers as she pressed her hand tighter over her mouth, fearing she would cry out in the odd silence.

  Where was his mother? Where had this boy come from? Was this the same creature that had torn the man to pieces in the practice halls?

  A hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up into the worried eyes of the tall man. He nodded once, and she threw her arms around him. As she buried her face in his side, somehow the heat of him distorted the smell of blood.

  “Take her back,” Papa was saying.

  “She is safer amongst the crowd,” Ende said, his arm pulling her closer.

  She couldn’t be anywhere on her own right now, and she really wanted Ana. What if something had happened to her? What if this beast was a danger to her? No matter what magic she had, Salima didn’t think the woman could defeat such a beast.