Mickey Reichert - The legend of Nightfall

Edward made a pensive noise.

"Master?" Nightfall encouraged Edward to share his thoughts.

The prince obliged. "Perhaps she only feared she had it. Or perhaps she felt other need to claim such a thing."

"Other need, Master?" Nightfall spun completely around to face Edward, letting both legs hang from the sill. Valiantly, he kept challenge from his tone. From any other man, the suggestion that Kelryn might have lied to keep him from her bedroom would have driven him to violence.

This time, Prince Edward dodged a reply. "Or perhaps she has the clap. What matter? Does that make her any less a person?" He leapt from the table and headed for the door.

Though discomfited by the entire situation, Nightfall followed quietly.

Prince Edward and Nightfall met Kelryn in Heffrilen’s Tavern in eastern Noshtillan, a pricey dining and drinking facility without an affiliated tavern or gambling hall. Servant-powered fans swirled pipe and cooking smoke into lazy circles, and violinists turned over the central stage to jugglers, acrobats, sleight-of-hand magicians, and solo lutists in turn. From past experience, Nightfall knew the food was mediocre; their gold would pay for ambiance and entertainment. He had given most of his leftover silver to Prince Edward, leaving only six for himself; and the realization that his master would spend much of that money on the woman who had betrayed him only fueled annoyance that already felt like a bonfire within him. Even the oath-bond seemed to recede beneath the wild blaze of emotion.

Kelryn had worn her sleekest, most elegant dress, a flattering green linen that fell in sweeps to her ankles. Marak had purchased it for her, and it had once been his favorite. Though he hated it now, he could not deny that it complimented her figure, and Edward’s long stare only affirmed his impression. The prince drew back her chair, waving her to sit with a dignified flourish that bordered on a bow.

Kelryn sat, flushing at the royal treatment. Her lowered eyes flitted a glance past Nightfall’s questioningly. Then, as she read the smoldering anger there, her embarrassed modesty became more of a restless concern. "Thank you," she said.

Edward took his seat. "You’re very welcome, lady."

Nightfall’s jaw tightened. He seriously wondered if he could stomach food while Kelryn played his master for the innocent fool he was. He wondered what she wanted from Alyndar’s younger prince. His money might win her dinners and trinkets, but not much more; and she would soon find that his status here gained him little in the way of privileges. Eventually, she would tire of him. Sooner rather than later, if Nightfall had his way.

Edward started the conversation. "So you and Sudian grew up together. When did you first meet?"

Kelryn glanced at Nightfall for clues. In truth, they had come together for the first time a scant five years ago.

Nightfall gave her nothing, testing. She had heard his vague comment to Edward in her room, and he had added nothing to the details. Whatever she said would serve well enough so long as she did not revert to truth. Her reply would show how seriously she had taken his threat.

Kelryn hesitated to the edge of impropriety. Then, when Nightfall gave her no hints, she improvised. "Birth. Mine, at least. He’s older."

"Alyndar or Mitano?" Edward asked.

“What?" Kelryn looked nervous.

"Sudian told me about how his family moved from Alyndar to Mitano when he was young. I just wondered whether you met before or after the travel."

Nightfall raised his brows, surprised Edward had recalled an offhand detail born of Nightfall’s need to cover for King Rikard’s claim that he came from the south. He hated having to create Sudian’s history piecemeal, but he had never expected to be recognized. Never before had anyone identified him across disguises.

"Before," Kelryn said, apparently concentrating more on the need to sound casual than on keeping the story as plausible as possible. Then, seeing a need to explain the oddity, she added, “Our families moved together. Our mothers were distant relatives and close friends. I have a brother Sudian’s age…"

A serving maid approached, a plump teenager with long, dark hair tied away from her face. Kelryn broke off and became suddenly intent on the newcomer, using the interruption to escape the need to create a lifetime of history from air. "Good evening.”

"Good evening, lady," the youngster returned. She took a position between Kelryn and Edward, then curtsied. “Good evening, noble sir." She ignored Nightfall. Servant livery tended to make a man invisible, a benefit in Nightfall’s mind. "Today we have mutton cakes, venison stew, roast pheasant in gravy, and shark steaks. What can I get for you?"

Edward and Nightfall had eaten in so many inns where storage and hunting determined the fare, the choice caught them without opinion. Kelryn, too, remained silent longer than mannerly. The cook in the dance hall surely made a single dish, each meal depending upon available supplies. Likely, however, she had had rare occasion to dine here. Nightfall had also done so, in "demon" guise and as Balshaz the merchant. From experience and gossip, he knew that seafood carted up from the south tended to age more before preparation than the hunted or farmed animals in Noshtillan. He had also learned that Heffrilen’s cook’s talents fell short when it came to spicing fish.

Nightfall broke the silence. "Kelryn, I know your likes and dislikes. Might I suggest the shark steak?"

Kelryn glanced at Nightfall, obviously surprised to find him talking to her. "Thank you, Sudian, but I’ve had my heart set on fowl. I’d love to try some of yours, though." She rescued herself from bad food, placing the onus back on Nightfall at the same time.

Nightfall gave her the win, having little at stake in the verbal spar. Though he knew Edward’s order should come next, he responded to the attention of companions and serving maid, now directed toward him by her comment. “Kelryn, my dear. After our fishing trips on the Lixdar River, how could you forget that eating shark makes me ill? I’ll have the mutton, if my master will forgive my selecting before him."

Prince Edward made a gracious gesture of dismissal. "If you recommend the fish so highly, Sudian, I guess I’ll have it."

Nightfall stiffened. Rescuing his own taste buds had proven easy. Saving the prince would likely become more difficult. "Please, Master. Don’t go by my advice." He tried to look stricken, keeping his voice low. "If your taster gets sick, how will you know…?"

Edward returned his squire’s gaze, brows raised in question. Nightfall had not insisted on testing his food for poison for some time.

Nightfall kept his return stare earnest, hoping Edward would attribute his resurgence of paranoia to the sorcerer rather than Kelryn.

A light dawned in the prince’s eyes, and he smiled at the serving maid. "I’ll have the pheasant, too, please. And a glass of your best wine for each of us."

The server gave Kelryn an envious look that spoke volumes. Her sigh told Nightfall that she wondered how a dance hall girl snagged a prince as handsome and polite as any storyteller’s hero. She trotted off to fill the order, and conversation fell once more to Prince Edward.

"Families so close they move together.” The prince returned to the previous conversation, to Kelryn’s obvious chagrin. "Sudian must have seemed like another brother."

Kelryn glanced at Nightfall who returned a glare in sullen silence. Everything about the current situation irritated him, from the need to guess Kelryn’s motivations, to the prince’s dutiful kindness to one he believed his squire’s friend. Trapped into breaking bread with an enemy, he felt as restless as a child getting lectured, and the serving maid’s assumption that Edward and Kelryn formed a couple raised an anger that seemed dangerous and sourceless. Apparently taking its cue from Nightfall’s consideration of Kelryn as a threat, the oath-bond maintained a steady, head-jarring ring.