Fourth Point of Contact (Legends of Lobe den Herren Book 1) Page 3

  And likely pouting. Ren seemed to be one of the few who could see past the ever-present stone-faced expression Brahms wore. Queen Eloise’s mothering instincts had probably given her a hint to what her lead general really felt. “I’m sure he understood, though.”

  “I’m sure he did,” she agreed. “Still, I think I’ll feel better about the matter when he’s home again, as I know you dearly miss each other. Does he write?”

  “To the absolute surprise of no one, our dear general is as verbose on paper as he is in person,” Ren drawled, finishing off the last of the scone. “That is to say, I get regular letters from his batman, with one or two lines from the man himself. If not for Robert, I wouldn’t have the faintest idea what he’s doing.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Queen Eloise admitted with a giggle. “His formal reports are about the same. Truly, we should probably send you along on the next deployment so that we at least know what he’s doing. Well, Ren, I won’t keep you. I know you do your rounds at this time. Thank you for the help. You were splendid.”

  “My pleasure, My Queen,” he assured her, standing and giving her a proper bow.

  With her dismissal, he turned and left the garden, picking back up where he had left off. A couple months, eh? Brahms would be home again in a couple of months. Ren prayed the time would fly by.

  Ren made it a point to stop at the training grounds and spar for two hours before lunch. Partially he did it to keep his own skills sharp, as he certainly couldn’t afford for them to slip, but also to keep everyone else sharp. It was understood that after he had warmed up, he’d welcome anyone as a sparring partner. The other guardsmen regularly took him up on the offer, but sometimes the other lords in Aart, or even visiting foreign dignitaries, did so as well.

  He probably couldn’t linger for long, as Princess Alexandria and her people would arrive sometime in the next two days, which meant preparations on Ren’s part. He’d already worked out a different schedule of guards to be her protection while she stayed in Zonhoven Palace, but he wanted to go over that one more time, with substitutes lined up, just in case. Ren had heard war stories about assassins taking advantage of nobility being in foreign lands and picking them off. He absolutely refused to have such a scenario occur on his watch.

  “Ren!” Hartmann hailed as he entered the yard. His Deputy Warden had about eight years on Ren, but he looked older with random gray hairs in his curly dark hair and lines around his eyes. He took the steps leading down into the training yard two at a time, hair flopping about on his forehead as he moved.

  Ren paused in his handstand, but even upside down, he knew that expression and dreaded it. Hartmann had the most easy-going nature to ever grace a man, with a permanent smile on his face. When he lost that smile, something serious had happened. Immediately, Ren came out of the handstand, regaining his feet. “Is the castle falling in on our heads?”

  “I might actually prefer that,” Hartmann responded, agitation pouring off of him in visible waves. His baritone voice resonated a pitch higher than normal, although he tried to keep it low to avoid alerting the rest of the yard about his news. “We just received word that Princess Alexandria and her escort were attacked.”

  Swearing, Ren snatched up his red uniform jacket and sword, not bothering to put on either. “Where are the king and queen?”

  “King’s study, and they requested I brief you on the way.” Hartmann had to lengthen his stride to keep up, despite being taller than Ren, and he puffed a little for breath as he spoke.

  Leaving the training yard behind him, Ren shrugged on his jacket as they hit the main hallway. “Please do. Is she hurt? Anyone injured?”

  “Some injuries, although Princess Alexandria is thankfully not one of them. They’re in Brahms Fortress now, as they took shelter there after the attack.”

  Ren said a prayer of thankfulness for small blessings. At least she would be safe there, as absolutely nothing got past Brahms Fortress. The first time Ren had seen it, the word ‘impenetrable’ came to mind. Lord Anthony Brahms, his friend Arman Brahms’ father, was a veteran soldier who wouldn’t let a fly past his defenses. “I’m relieved to hear it. Who’s behind the attack?”

  “Not sure.” Hartmann made a face as he answered, the words unpleasant in his mouth. “We have little in the way of details. The message came by pigeon.”

  Which meant it was, by necessity, slim on words, as the bird couldn’t carry a full-length letter. Dammit. Ren took a right turn, headed upstairs to the second level as fast as he could ascend the stairs, and then strode directly into the king’s study. Fortunately, the doors leading in stood wide open, everyone clearly expecting him. Queen Eloise, Prince Charles, and King Gerhard all looked up at his entrance. The king sat behind his massive desk, half of his face hidden by his cupped hands, his crown resting on the desk’s surface. He only removed the crown when fighting off a headache, and Ren couldn’t blame him for having one now.

  Queen Eloise and Charles, so alike in looks and expressions, sat in wing-backed chairs in front of the desk, facing the door. Queen Eloise kept her poise, although she had her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Charles sat on the edge of his chair, hands on the arms of it in a white-knuckled grip, blue eyes coldly furious. The twenty-year-old looked worried, too, his blond hair not immaculately combed back as usual, but standing up on end, as he if he’d run his hands repeatedly through it.

  But then, who could blame him? His relationship with Princess Alexandria was not solely for the sake of politics. It was actually a love match, one obvious to anyone who saw them together. In his place, Ren would be vibrating out of his own skin, dying to go to her.

  Reading the situation very well, Ren had a good idea of why he’d been called, and immediately assured Charles, “Of course I’ll go with you.”

  Half of the tension riding in Charles relaxed in one breath. “Thank you, Ren. See?”

  King Gerhard regarded his son with considerable asperity. “Charles, the question was never ‘Will Ren go with you’ but ‘Can Ren go with you.’ Ren, I assume that Hartmann briefed you on the way? Excellent, thank you, Hartmann. Ren, considering what has happened, I am loath to send any of my children out of the palace right now, although I understand Charles’ desire to see Alexandria.”

  Considering that Princess Alexandria had been attacked while traveling through an allied country, Ren could certainly appreciate the king’s concern. “We have absolutely no idea who attacked her?”

  “Lord Brahms’ note to me only said: ‘Princess at my fortress. Attacked on road, enemy unknown.’ You now know as much as I do.”

  If Anthony had known more than that, he certainly would have said. Unlike his son, the man was good at giving information. “Then I do appreciate your worry, My King. However, I think I can leave the palace for a few days without repercussions. We already have everything planned for Princess Alexandria’s arrival, Hartmann knows them as well as I do, and the staff is just as clear on their instructions. Barring an emergency situation, I foresee no problems.”

  Queen Eloise shared a speaking, worried glance with her husband before stating, “The only way I’m comfortable with Charles leaving the palace is if Ren goes with him.”

  King Gerhard didn’t exactly disagree, but he did say in some exasperation, “I’m still of two minds about Charles going. And we do have other, highly trained and qualified soldiers who can be entrusted with our son’s safety.”

  “And I’m sure Ren will choose some of them as a guard,” Queen Eloise agreed with a pointed smile.

  Ren had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. Years ago, when Brahms had first brought him to the palace and introduced him, he’d arranged for a martial arts display to showcase Ren’s skills. No one here had seen the Rising Sun style before. Aartans felt that the bigger and stronger a man, the more invincible he must be, so watching the slimmer and shorter Ren repeatedly put those burly warriors on the ground had been shocking. Queen Eloise especially became entranced with him, so much so she had offered him the position as castle warden on the spot. To this day, she believed Ren could do anything he put his mind to, and couldn’t fathom the possibility that he could be defeated.

  Knowing all of this, and perhaps sharing his wife’s opinion to some degree, King Gerhard splayed open a hand in acceptance. “Fine. Charles, you have permission to go, but take at least a complement of twenty guards with you. I don’t think we’ll have anyone dare attack their own prince inside his own country, but then I never entertained the idea that Alexandria would be attacked while traveling through Bhodhsa either.”

  Had she still been in that country or had she just hit Aart’s borders when attacked? It had to be somewhere along the border if Brahms Fortress was her nearest haven. Either way, that wasn’t good.

  Charles, relieved, gave his father a tight smile. “Thank you, Father. Ren, how much time do you need before we can leave?”

  “An hour?” Ren offered. Thinking fast, he tried to work out the journey logistics even as he spoke. It took two days to reach Brahms Fortress, even riding hard, which meant they would have to stop somewhere. “At least that. Meet me at the stables in an hour, I’ll try to get a guard put together in that time. My Prince, if you could send a message to Lord Linden, request hospitality for a night’s stay? He’d make the best halfway-point for our journey to Brahms.”

  “I’m sure my cousin would be glad to host us in our time of need,” Charles responded, his tone saying ‘he’d better be.’

  Ren decided to leave that alone and not comment. “Then I’ll see you in an hour.”

  The trip to Brahms Fortress strung out, taut with tension and silence, the thunderous repetition of horse shoes against the stone highway the only sound. Ren spent the entire trip thinking
hard about various scenarios, but with no information, he could only speculate. Two different countries stayed in constant conflict with the rest of the world, and Ren could handily blame either of them for this attack. Zaytsev made more sense than Mong, being the bordering country with Aart and Bhodhsa, but he couldn’t discount Mong just because it lay further east. Mong and Zaytsev often allied together, trying to break through the iron guard of Scovia, Bhodhsa and Aart.

  And it could be that they, for once, were innocent in the matter. Perhaps some other person had a political agenda to push, or wished to thwart Scovia’s and Aart’s marriage alliance. Who that might be, Ren didn’t know, as international espionage was not his specialty.

  He just hoped, for Charles’ sake, that they’d be able to get to the bottom of it and resolve the matter before Alexandria was hurt. His young prince would not take the loss of his princess well.

  They arrived at Brahms in a day and a half, something of a record, and Ren’s sore arse protested in silent testament of how they’d made it so quickly. Charles had acted like a possessed man getting here. When the solid grey stone of Brahms Fortress panned into view around the mountain’s slope, Ren breathed out in relief. Finally, they’d made it.

  He scrutinized the fortress as they galloped over the drawbridge. Nothing about it indicated a state of emergency, although he saw a few signs that they were in a heightened state of security. The yellow flags flying from the top of the battlements indicated a higher level of defense than normal. The fortress had been built directly inside a mountain pass, its sides flush against the rock faces. Four stories tall, it loomed over them with a slightly menacing air, promising blood to anyone who dared lay siege to it. The weight and power of it always sent a shiver down Ren’s spine.

  He loved Brahms Fortress. It was sort of a shame he’d been snapped up to be warden of Zonhoven Palace instead of getting to live here. Ah, well, such was life.

  A horn sounded at their approach, alerting the rest of the fortress, and Ren signaled the rider behind him to raise their banner. He did not want to be shot at because someone confused them as an enemy. Someone quickly recognized the prince’s colors, as the main gate immediately opened, the gears cranking with loud clinks of metal to slowly lift the portcullis.

  Standing square in the inner courtyard, arms crossed over his chest, waited Lord Anthony Brahms. Aside from the size, he and his son Arman looked little alike. Anthony Brahms was as fair as his eldest son was dark, hair mostly silver, eyes green, and a slightly ruddy complexion from constant exposure to the sun. In fact, come to think of it, most of Brahms’ family had lighter hair coloring and green eyes. Ren had to wonder where his friend’s dark hair and blue eyes came from.

  Charles skidded to a halt in front of Anthony Brahms and threw himself off the horse, demanding as he moved, “She’s alright?”

  “She’s fine, princeling,” Anthony informed him, his normal brusque tone softened a little in sympathy. Pointing a finger to an open door, he encouraged the man, “She’s through there.”

  “Thank you,” Charles stated before sprinting that direction.

  Both men watched him go for a moment before Anthony turned to Ren with a smile crinkling up the corners of his eyes. “Well, Ren, looks like you had an interesting trip up here.”

  “I could barely get him to sit still or eat,” Ren complained, half in jest as he gratefully dismounted. Extending a hand, he greeted, “Father, how are you?”

  Anthony accepted the hand in a firm grip. “Well, boy, I’m well.” It always tickled Anthony when Ren addressed him as ‘Father.’ Of course, for Aart, that wasn’t the correct mode of address for a friend’s parent, but Shiirei looked at the matter differently. A friend’s parent was your parent as well, their uncle your uncle, and so on. Unless instructed differently, you called them as you would a family member. “Here, come in, rest for a while and catch your breath. Eida and I had an idea you’d be coming along with the prince, and she’s got your room ready for you.”

  “I’d be very glad to,” Ren responded as he handed his reins over to one of the stable hands. “Thanks, Sam. Rub him down good, give him an apple for me. He was a jewel on the trip despite me being so demanding.”

  “You got it, Master Ren,” Sam assured him with a quick smile, before leading the horse toward the stables.

  Ren turned around and found that Miss Lavonne, the head housekeeper, had already taken his guards in hand and was drawing them into the house. No doubt she’d make them comfortable and ensure someone fed them soon. Satisfied, he waved them off, indicating they were free to relax.

  Following Anthony’s lead, Ren trailed after him into the house, asking questions as he went. “What exactly happened?”

  “Not much, fortunately. The ones that attacked Princess Alexandria’s party didn’t send enough men to do the job. They didn’t count on that bodyguard of hers. The man could give even Arman a run for his money,” Anthony said with a faint hint of praise. It wasn’t just a father’s prejudice, as Arman was one of the best fighters in Aart. “Enough were injured they couldn’t readily move, not quickly, and they sent a courier ahead to me. I went out to fetch them, hauled them all here. We’ve been patching people up and nursing them ever since.”

  “I bet Mother is delighted,” Ren commented, entering the main hall of the fortress. No one was in the large, vaulted foyer, but the curved staircase at the far end carried the sounds of multiple voices from the second story. “All of those people to look after.”

  “She really should have been a doctor,” Anthony agreed. “She’s been scurrying about with a smile on her face for two days now. Anyway, no one’s seriously injured, which is a blessing, and the princess herself is more mad than anything. A good woman, that. I’m glad we got to meet her. Charles did well, picking that one.”

  “Oh?” Ren hadn’t had a chance to meet her yet, only hear about her, as Charles had done their courtship in Alexandria’s country. “Charles raves about how beautiful she is, how kind, how intelligent, and so forth, but we haven’t known how much of that to believe. A man in love sees a woman very differently.”

  “I can attest that she’s beautiful, kind, and intelligent, at least.” Anthony led the way into the kitchen, calling to the cook as he went, “Get Ren a snack and some ale.”

  Bertie waved at Ren with a grin, showing gapped teeth. “Good to see you, Master Ren. Starving or hungry?”

  As his appetite was legendary in this place, having out-eaten all three of the Brahms sons, Bertie had developed this question solely for his benefit. It was the difference between serving him two plates or four. “Starving.”

  “Coming up,” she assured him, waving him toward the roughhewn kitchen table.

  The air smelled of roasted chicken, fried vegetables, and baked bread. Ren’s stomach gave a petulant rumble as breakfast had been quick and light, and lunch skipped altogether. “Father, going back to the attack, they really have no idea?”

  “Attackers were in all black, heads swathed in cloth; no one was able to get any distinguishing features. And they were quick to retreat when they failed, taking their injured with them.” Anthony leaned on the table’s surface a little, ankle crossed over his knee, and confided, “My money’s on the Zaytsevians. Damn Z’s have been restless lately. Their last attempt was climbing the mountain and then trying to rappel down the cliffs onto the battlements.”

  Ren winced. “But that rock is all limestone; it’s too powdery to hold an anchor for more than a few minutes.”

  “I know it. They now know it too, the hard way. They keep trying to get through or attack the highway. I’ve had to patrol it more often to keep people safe as they’re traveling. We’ve put up many a traveler the past two months, offering safe haven to people before escorting them down to Hill’s Borough.”

  “It’s the first time we’ve seen them attack in a while, isn’t it?”

  “Near on two years,” Anthony confirmed darkly. “There’s been so much in-fighting in the country, they haven’t tried to borrow trouble by attacking us. Means someone over there gained more power than the rest, although we’ll have to see how long he can hold onto it.”