Sword of Indarys Sample - The Rose of Calarys

A sample chapter from my current work in progress of my epic fantasy saga, 'Sword of Indarys'

Watching the knights ride into Calarys had excited Julia since she was a little girl. She remembered how father would have the steward Alanos Kolpeck take her to the battlements to watch them ride up to the city and through their gate to where her father would greet them, surrounded by his household knights. She could see the whole city from here in it's pale cream coloured stones built tall and high and spanning miles in each direction. She could see the great cobbled square below where her father was gathered with her brother, their household and his knights and the cobbled streets that veined off in every direction. The square was gleaming, the sunlight casting down just past the towers and spires of the Cathedral of Denarra. Father liked to hold his meetings there, in sight of the gods and as a symbol of Medarrion strength, drawing the eye from the houses all around. Calarys was the capital of the Dalelands and it's houses were far finer than those in the cities of other lords, it was far more splendid to be backed by a cathedral and father knew how to make a splendid sight.

Even now, years later and older her father was still an imposing sight in his shining armour, his scarlet surcoat and lavish cloak, a pair of golden Lions embroidered in the fabric. Next to him would stand the castellan Ser Jaymes Hill, his cloak bordered with hundreds of blue roses, hundreds more on his breastplate made with sapphires and precious stones beyond counting. She had been trying since she was a girl and had never once been able to count them all. Ser Jaymes was a handsome man however, with a strong square jaw and beautiful black hair so she doubted any other ladies of the court had the faintest idea either and his skill with a sword made him move so fast that she doubted the men did either.

On her father's other side was the Elder Dillas, as far from the majesty of Ser Jaymes one could manage, clad in a simple dark brown robe, hunched and old with short greying hair and a long, but neat beard. He was the one of the two Julia knew best though. He had appeared much the same age when she were a girl and the same when born, but he had read her stories and taught her the lessons of the other noble houses, of history and maths, of reading and writing, of geography and the stars. Others had taught her the mysteries of the gods and others still politics and economy so she might be a strong lady of a holdfast some day, but it was Dillas whom she had most time for, and felt almost cruel for dismissing him next to the handsome Ser Jaymes. Dillas had told her stories of the great knights of Ardorran and ever since then those tales had come to life every time her father called council. As Lord Paramount of the Dalelands no bannerman in his fief would dare refuse a summon from Lord Titus Medarrion and so there were always many to see.

Her fathers knights had excited her most when she was young in their shining armour, their great lion shaped helmets and shields with her families sigil on. She remembered how they would bow their heads to her as she passed and call her 'm'lady'. Her favourite was Ser Jon Rowe, a young man, only three years older than herself, and her father's ward who would call her his little lady and would give her a rose of the same red as the Medarrion Colours whenever he saw her. She had made a crown of them and that was how she had come to earn her nickname. She spotted him now from the battlements in the deep red surcoat of her fathers house, though he wore a dark green cloak embroidered with the blue stallion of Rowe. He was Lord Rodger Rowe's Second Son and heir to nothing, but was kinder and gentler than his elder brother Symon and Julia had asked her father if she might marry Ser Jon. He had laughed and placed his hands on her shoulder and told her no, not unkindly and explained that she would be the wife of a great lord one day, not a Knight and she had never understood why as a child. He was a fine man and she admired him dearly, but she had learned as she got older that the fault had not been with Ser Jon, but his position - he simply didn't stand to inherit anything, and as the Lord Paramount's First Daughter she had little choice in the matter.

Her Brother she saw still with her father as the processions began to enter the gate in a stream of sigils and colours. Gareth was just as tall as their father, but less broad and armoured and attired the same way. Like father he went unhelmeted and father and son stood side by side. It was often said Gareth looked very much like her father, though shorter haired and clean shaven, but it was his face that people saw and Julia agreed. Ser Jaymes had often joked that seeing the two together was as though he could see the past and present at once. Father was proud of both of his children, he said regularly, but it was Gareth who would inherit his lands and holdings not her and so he would be to meet the Knights.

Not that she particularly wanted to be down there at the moment. Even here she could see father wouldn't be smiling. She had heard the whispers and the conversations. Father had been furious when he had heard the Tarkus and the Blackhearths had gone to war, and even more so when the Cunningham's and Varathorn's and Brewer's had joined. He had sent birds to them all to join him in a council of negotiation but only Lord's Varathorn and Brewer had deened to reply, both citing the ancient right to defend their own lands and they would come to no table till they had pushed back their attack. In response he father had called on all the lords whom had not declared from the Nymanski's and Lycus's in the North to the Kroy's and Marsh's in the South. Only Lord Symon Kroy and his bannermen had responded however and was even now bringing his Knights along with father's bannermen as she saw the White Eagle of Kroy, followed by a Red Rose of House Bloome and several others she didn't recognise, Black Crossed Swords, A Crimson Crocodile and a White Swan. She could sense her father's anger at being ignored, but he kept his composure. For how long she couldn't know, but her father was a strong man. She wouldn't want to be there if his patience failed him.

It was Ser Jaymes' Knights that arrived first, lead by his Father Lord Willem Hill. His Lordships armour was as fine as his sons, if not his face. It was said Ser Jaymes could not truly be his for there was no way Lord Willem's seed could have produced such a man she remembered as he rode in on a magnificent white stallion, several dozen retainers behind him, one holding the blue rose pennant of House Hill. He bowed his head to her father before moving on to dismount lead away by some stableboys. Lord Garth Kolpeck came next, a black warship banner fluttering grim, but proud, a perfect representation of their lord whom looked far less kind than his son Alanos. He arrived alongside the Blue Stallion of Rowe and Lord Rodger with his son Symon rode in, their shining silver armour mingling with deep blue surcoats and plumes billowing from them and their own retainers. They each bowed elaborately to her father, but recieved only the same nod the others had. Her father respected Lord Rowe, she knew that, but he was a simple man who didn't enjoy Lord Rowe's ostentation. Ser Jon could not have looked more different from his brother all his finery and yet for Ser Jon's simplicity Julia found him infinitely more handsome. Lords Morton and Kessel came last with Lord Gaben Mortons cross chain banners on blue and green, his half coloured cloak held on with the same crossed chains as made up his sigil and Lord Stephan Kessel's Red Griffon flying proudly over his purple and yellow cloak. It had been many years since she had seen either, but she enjoyed Lord Kessel's company immensely as a girl. He had had a large curly mustache that seemed to bristle with his regular smile. He was the opposite to Lord Morton who was large and imposing and had often scared her as a child.

She watched on as the lords returned from saddling their horses accompanied by the sons they bought and two of their retainers, the rest given the hospitality of the city. Her father took Gareth and Ser Jon with him and she saw as Lord Rodger and Ser Symon paid no heed save for a curt nod to their kin. She frowned at this and she wished she could be down there to chastise Lord Rowe and his son. Even now she would marry Jon Rowe and she savoured the thought of the look on Ser Symon's face as his younger brother married the Lord Paramount's daughter. Her grin held as her father and his lords disappeared into the city, walking towards Lionheart Keep and she walked from the battlements and met with her handmaidens, Mira and Lysa. She had chosen them personally and they had become fast friends as girls, though they preferred to watch the knights from the gardens where they could sit with glasses of raspberry milk and sweetcakes and argue over which of the knights they would ask her to introduce them to. She would giggle and promise, though father rarely let her near his knights long enough for her to know them enough to do so. The two men at arms her father had as her personal guard stood vigil on the end of the battlements but stood together to face her and bowed their heads as she approached. She returned them with a courtsey and a warm smile as she had been taught growing up.

'Bannon, Addam' she smiled demurely. 'You are both looking very handsome in your armour today' Not entirely true though she supposed they were handsome in their own sort of way. They were certainly not ugly men but were far too rough and lined to be considered particularly attractive.

'You are looking lovely as well, m'lady' they spoke back in unison. She smiled and graciously bowed her head at the compliment.

'Kind of you to say'

It was then that Mira and Lysa noticed her and rose from their chairs, quickly stepping over to her giggling, unable to stop even as they paid her courtsey.

'I trust you enjoyed yourselves?' Julia asked teasingly.

'Yes, my lady' replied Lysa

'Very much so' parrotted Mira, still giggling. 'I was just thinking how lovely Lysa here would look on the arm of Lord Morton' she said containing her glee as Lysa's mouth opened in shock.

'Why me, when he's so obviously made for you?' she countered. 'Unless you're trying to push him away to focus your attention on Elder Dillas' It was Mira's turn to have her mouth agape

Julia couldn't help but smile, but remained her composure. 'By all means I could introduce you both to Lord Morton and see which of you he prefers' she jested. 'I hear they call him the bear.' she head Bannon and Addam stifle some laughter behind her.

'I'm not surprised' Mira mused. 'Did you see the hair on his neck?'

One of the men behind her laughed aloud, but a sharp glare from Julia silenced him. Julia would laugh, but it would be unkind of a lady. She resolved to change the subject instead. 'My father will be hosting his guests for a while. Perhaps we should pass the time in my chamber?' She loved to read and all the knights she had seen this morning had her more than keen for a story. The girls nodded obediently and they made for Lionheart Keep, her guards escorting her through the numerous hidden corridors in the walls to avoid making commotion in the streets. The chambers had been built long ago by Lord Alyn Medarrion so he could move about the city without disrupting the work and lives of the common folk as much as possible. This particular corridor she used regularly and it came out on the floor where her bedchamber resided.

Leaving Bannon and Addam outside she entered the room with Mira and Lysa. To her father's taste the room was furnished for purpose with a large poster bed adorned in crimson with the Medarrion Lion embroidered rampant across the blankets and the curtains surrounding it. The dressers, chairs, desks and shelves made of simple polished dark wood. It was only on the tables where she placed fine white and blue vases filled with crimson roses, save for one by her bedside with dyed blue roses, a gift from Ser Jaymes. It was the shelf of her desk she loved most though, sat by a large window from where she could look out at the city below where she kept a chair a table and her collection of books. She invited Mira and Lysa to take one each and each took a chair and began to read as did she. Hours seemed to fly by as she read her favourite stories, the tales of Ser Kylas the Fair and his battles and of Ser Jayce and his doomed love for the Lady Torre. Her favourite though was the tale of Aria the Fierce, the legendary Warrior Queen whom lead her people against the Narmardi invaders in centuries past. She read of how she had fought atop a chariot pulled by half a dozen horses and wielded the spear Lightlance, named for the light of the moon under which it was forged. She had pestered her father about it growing up, wondering where the legendary weapon was. Doubtless lost to time she reflected sadly, but she read on, the same fire ignited in her as a little girl burning in her heart now till she was disappointed by the knock on her door.

'Ser Jon Rowe here to see you, milday' came the voice of Bannon.

'Send him in' she responded, setting the book down and standing, dimly aware of the faintly darkening sky outside. Ser Jon strode in, his green cloak flowing in the breeze, his lion helm under his arm. He would have appeared as gallant as Ser Kylas or Ser Jayce himself had he not borne such a grave expression on his face.

'Begging your pardon, little lady' he spoke. 'I would like a word.' he glanced to her handmaidens. 'Alone'

She stared for a moment and nodded, gesturing to Mira and Lysa to wait outside with Bannon and Addam.The closed the door behind them with a thud.

'What news, Jon?' she queried, unable to soothe the sudden worry that had gripped her stomach.

'Madness' he replied and she gestured for him to sit. He declined. 'Lord Kroy has had enough. He would have war.'

War The word hit Julia like a warhammer. 'What of my father?'. Silence.

'Lord Medarrion agrees...' he said after a moment. 'I blame neither side. If Lord Edric and Lord Tomas are right then the Blackhearths took Lord Tarkus's heir. If not then the Blackhearths are simply protecting themselves. But with all his Lords present he called his banners. He intends to send armies to Castle Blackveil, Fort Cunningham, Mead Hall, Castle Blackhearth and Stag's Hill and demand each of them stand down and negotiate or face annihilation.'

Julia sunk back into her chair. This was worse than she had feared.

'And..' Jon began.

'And...?'

'Your father has declared me to join your brother Gareth in leading his portion of the forces directly to Fort Cunningham. A Raven has gone to warn Lord Tomas of our intentions and to demand he negotiate with us on arrival.'

Her stomach sunk lower. Jon was her oldest and truest companion. They would play together and she realised now that she felt more deeply for him that she realised. 'Surely Gareth can handle this alone?'

Jon shrugged. 'I'm sure. But your father insisted I keep him safe. My brother will lead the Rowe contingent to Castle Blackhearth.'

It was all she could do to stand but she rose and walked as steadily as she could to the table nearest Jon. She plucked one of the roses from the vase and staggered over to him, very carefully slotting it's stem next to the fine silver horse broach that held his cloak in place and kissed him softly on the cheek, closing her slowly tear filling eyes. As she released she fumbled with the golden bracelet engraved with the Medarrion Lion. She slipped it from her wrist and placed it delicately in Jon's hand.

'My lady?..' he stammered.

'My favour' she said as calmly as she could, staring into his own deep blue eyes. 'Bring it back to me.'

She saw his face flood with emotion, a mix of being touched and looking as though he was about to weep. His mouth opened, but there were no words. She heard him gulp before he could speak. 'I will...' he spoke at last. 'I promise...'

She nodded and kissed his cheek again before he could see the tears in her eyes. She felt him bring his arms around her and though she knew she should push him away she lingered, closing her eyes to feel the warmth of his hold. She imagined all at once that it had been different, that Ser Jon had been Lord Rodger's first, that they had been wed and that this was just one of their many nights together. Her heart was torn with joy and rage as the unfairness of the situation washed over her and even more so as he released her from his hold, wiping a tear away with his index finger.

'Don't cry, little lady.' he stammered softly. 'I'll come back. I promise.'

Her heart wrenched. She wanted everything there, she wanted to kiss him properly, to lay with him. Noble Ladies lost their maidenheads to horse riding all the time she was told, why should she be any different. The thought left her mind as soon as it entered. She knew what her father thought of oathbreakers. Gods only knew what he would do to Jon if he found out. She closed herself off and they stood facing each other awkwardly.

'Be safe, Ser Jon' she said at last.

He bowed his head. 'And you, My Lady'

He turned and left, her heart aching most with the closing of the door.