Unvanquished: The Tale of Two Sisters

UNVANQUISHED

THE TALE OF TWO SISTERS

R.D. BLAKE

imotifbooks

Kitchener, Ontario Canada

All rights reserved; no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

First published in Canada in 2016

imotifbooks, 39 Askin Place, Kitchener, Ontario N2A 1K9

www.imotifbooks.com

Copyright © R.D. Blake

Cover illustrations by Greg Hoekstra copyright © imotifbooks.

Unvanquished: The Tale of Two Sisters, names, characters, and related indicia are copyright and trademark imotifbooks.

R.D. Blake has asserted his moral rights.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

R.D. Blake

Unvanquished: The Tale of Two Sisters

ISBN: 978-0-9879826-5-0

¹. Title

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Epilogue

Glossary

About the Author

Chapter One

All of them, my lady?

Yes! Every last one of the wretched things! Not a petal. Not a bud. Not a leaf. Nothing of them is to remain here! And I won’t trouble myself to ask which one of you permitted them to be brought in here in the first place! Kara clenched her hands into tight balls, the short nails of her fingers cutting red lines into the palms of her calloused hands. "And ensure to open the rest of the windows to rid my quarters of their sordid scents. I want no reminders of him and all that he stands for!"

Eloise, the first of her ladies-in-waiting bobbed a quick and deep curtsy, keeping her eyes fixed to the floor. As you wish, my lady. Bustling away, she joined with the other servants who were in the midst of removing the profusions of potted flowers and bouquets which were currently adorning the entirety of Kara’s antechamber.

And do not treat them such as you are! There is nothing precious about any of them. And make certain to toss the lot of them into the castle midden! And if you truly wish to serve me, ensure that Sir Beaudoin is made aware of my utter disregard for him. Gah! The man! How I detest him! Now, do not doddle about! And I do not wish to discover any hidden smiles exchanged in those glances you are passing between yourselves.

Kara closed her eyes, taking in a needed breath and shaking herself to loosen the tightening muscles in her back and shoulders. Until she had re-entered her chambers late this afternoon, the day had been going so well—marvellously so. Having to deal with this unwanted demonstration of the undesired attentions of her father’s favourite knight had completely soured her mood. Enough! She would let the servants deal with this mess and air out her rooms. She had more important matters to deal with at the moment.

Turning, intent on departing, at the doorway out into the broader hallway connecting the women’s quarters to the main sections of the castle, her sister suddenly appeared. My apologies, Kara, I know you hate being kept waiting. I… It was then that Princess Margaux noticed the hundreds of sprays and garlands of flowers still in the midst of being removed with all due haste. Oh, my! she tittered, bringing a delicate white hand to her mouth. A secret admirer, Kara? Her deep blue eyes glittered in the bright sunlight shimmering in through the now open crystalline windows. Or is it more than one?

It’s not funny, Margaux, Kara retorted, making little effort to conceal the black grimace beginning to suffuse her face.

Oh, not so secret then. Sir Beaudoin is at it again? With the usual results, dare I suppose?

Kara rolled her eyes. It seemed a common enough practice whenever that particular knight was the topic at hand. I just wish Father wouldn’t encourage the man. Kara shook her head, feeling the need to close her eyes again and leave them shuttered for several moments. Does Sir Beaudoin not have a clue? Is he so proud, so full of himself, that he remains blind to my true feelings? I say to you that he is a curse no woman should ever have to bear!

"Well, he is the kingdom’s premier knight and its current champion, Margaux replied, pursing her lips in thought. None can best him at any of the tourneys. And Father loves him as if he was one of our own brothers. You know that."

Well, he won’t be joining our family through me! Kara insisted, jutting out her jaw. King or not, I will not obey Father in this. I would sooner run away and be a pauper than face a life of bondage with that man! So, if Father is intent on such a purpose… Kara looked meaningfully at her younger and fairer sister.

Margaux’s only response was to smile saucily up at Kara. Oh, my plans are of an entirely different nature…as you well know. I aspire to much more than Sir Beaudoin. And well, shouldn’t I? Margaux performed a pirouette before Kara, allowing her bejewelled ivory and gold-threaded gown to billow out about her, in full contrast to the leggings and leather jerkin and worn boots which Kara was currently garbed in. Is there not a more desirable young woman within the entire kingdom? Should she not have countless suitors approaching to beg for her merest attention?

Kara understood that Margaux was only jesting. However, there was no one who would dispute that her sister was beautiful, feminine in all the aspects of youthful womanhood, and fully capable of enjoying the trappings of being a princess: in all ways the complete opposite of herself.

Though her junior by more than four years and having only recently passed through her fifteenth spring season, Margaux was already in full possession of the soft curves of her gender, in stark contrast to Kara’s still mostly mannish figure. And well could her younger sister pour out long rhapsodies on the next series of palace balls and the coteries of the newest and most eligible of nobles from the near and far reaches of their kingdom. The latest of fashions and the subjects of the most recent gossip chiefly filled the balance of each day for Margaux. Kara abhorred all such.

No, her true interests lay in matters that belied her gender: of battle, of fighting, of fitness, of military tactics, and of their related prowess. Still, Kara had not been deaf to the whispers about her father’s court that she’d been born all wrong: that truly she was no woman at heart, that she was one with her brothers, and that Margaux (bless her heart) was the only one and true daughter of the king.

"Well, let them whisper what they wish," Kara often thought within the depths of her mind. She was a woman, she knew that, just of a different sort. So what if she preferred a role and its accordant behaviour which didn’t fit into someone else’s idea of a woman? Why should she be boxed in and tied down, expected to act as everyone else wished her to be? Margaux understood and accepted it, as did Sir Tanquay, the military’s former battle master.

That senior knight had been assigned to that position well before Kara’s oldest brother had been born until—until he had been abruptly ousted and replaced by a man not half his equal except in arrogance and ambition. Sometimes, Kara, unkindly, but true to her own basis of judgement, considered her father far too simple-minded when it came to matters of allegiance and loyalty. How could he have entertained any argument to so ill-treat Sir Tanquay when the battle master, the trainer of so many of the elite men who now led the army, had given his entire life in service? And to her, as well.

Despite his forced entry into retirement, Kara had continued to seek him out. Fortunately, he had chosen to maintain a residence not far from the castle lands. Earlier this morning, Kara had ridden out to meet him (as they had ever since that fateful day four years ago) to continue with her training. She had come away with a deep bruise to her shoulder, but that meant nothing compared to the praise the senior knight had given her—that needed praise.

Well done, Kara. Truly, you bested me this day, he had remarked. All my feints and ruses, the placement of my feet, the lean of my body…you read them all correctly and construed when my true attack would begin. And you led me to believe in your own deceptions.

He had chuckled afterwards as he slowly returned to his feet. Kara hadn’t been deceived in the least. They had fought with long daggers for well over two quarters, neither of them giving the other a respite, each willing to slash at each other and cause harm but well aware that both of them were skilled enough not to suffer much from such blows or attempts.

Though Sir Tanquay was making a show of displaying his age and his waning abilities, Kara knew it to be a lie. If only—if only there could be a test between the new battle master and Sir Tanquay. She knew one of her oldest and dearest of friends would easily win out. Why hadn’t he fought harder to retain his position in a manner similar to how he acted in every training session with her? Only once had she attempted to broach the subject. After that, she’d known from the set of Sir Tanquay’s shoulders and the cold stare he’d given her that he would not sanction it again. So, not because she was cowed by such but due to their long friendship, she had dropped the matter. But it did not make her seethe any the less.

But today, those feelings were absent. The news the battle master had imparted after their training period had left her euphoric. Even this unwanted display of Sir Beaudoin’s affections hardly dampened her inner excitement. It meant everything! All of her dreams…

Yes, undoubtedly, Kara admitted, replying to Margaux whose arched eyebrows had brought her thoughts back to the present moment. Father will abide by your wishes, despite his future disappointment concerning his plans for me and Sir Beaudoin. You have Father tied up in knots. Sometimes, Margaux, I believe you rule more than he.

Well, I think you somewhat speak the truth there, her sister tittered, mock-blushing. Except, of course, there is Mother.

Yes, they both knew that the king answered to no one, no one except the queen. And her will, when it pertained to matters personal to the royal family, none risked countering.

Is there still time to meet as you asked of me? Margaux cast a quick glance at the servants continuing to busy themselves within Kara’s antechamber. Or have circumstances changed?

Truly, it was only a small matter. Kara tilted her head toward a cleared out and currently unoccupied portion of the room. Margaux supplied her with a single nod and then followed her to the secluded alcove. Kara turned quickly toward her sister and whispered, I want you to make an excuse for me so I can put off attending tonight’s ball.

What?! Margaux whispered in return, though the sharpest of her exclamation echoed back to them from the far reaches of the room. But it’s to celebrate the men-of-war departing the castle to seek out and destroy that purportedly great dragon ravaging the southern marks of the kingdom. Personally, I think it only some oversized lizard that is simply making a nuisance of itself…tromping about in some peasant’s grain field. These things are always so exaggerated.

I know all that and think the same as you.

But why? No one, I mean no one, wants to miss out on the ball. Everyone will be there and the men! Oooh, just imagine! So many to dance with and to await…oh, with such bated breath, their confessions of love! Margaux acted out a mock-swoon, demonstrating her eager anticipation.

Enjoy it as only you can, dear Sister, but I want nothing to do with it, Kara exclaimed. I…I have need to be elsewhere.

Margaux’s rapturous smile slowly faded away as she began to keenly study her older sister. Don’t tell me, she remarked slyly. You have an assignation with… She stopped herself suddenly, then knowingly added, It must be with that new retainer recently assigned to Sir Beaudoin. The previous one was such a stupid oaf. One just has to wonder, now, just how Sir Beaudoin endured him for so long. But everyone, I mean every woman, in the castle is madly talking about this new one. Such looks, such riveting eyes, though… Margaux shrugged her delicate but shapely shoulders slightly. Frankly, Kara, I only caught sight of him ever so briefly and just once. And I still don’t know his name for certain yet. Armand? Antoine? No, no, but something like that. But that one look was more than enough. Margaux closed her eyes, her chin lifting slightly upwards, her mind caught up in a daydream. Oh! I might even surrender my royal position, live as a commoner and endure hard living, to be in his arms, to see his eyes only seeking for mine, to feel his lips upon my own…

Stop it, Margaux! Stop it! It’s nothing of that sort. I’ve never even heard of the man. It’s something else entirely and far more important than attending the ball.

Then what, Kara? Margaux snapped out of her reverie. Father will not be pleased. Mother either. Count on it. They will interpret your absence as a thankless rebuff to this alleged great danger these men will be placing themselves in…though, as I told you, it will likely not amount to anything more than galloping about and stabbing at some creature smaller than any of their warhorses. Besides, what reason can I possibly give?

Tell them I…I made a vow to God some time ago and must honour it ahead of these noble men. And it involves travelling to the parish church of St. Cadieux this very night.

Truly?

No, of course not! But I do intend to be outside the castle walls.

Margaux tilted her head to one side, her eyes narrowing minutely, though her lips lifted upwards slightly. You’re not just making this up to steer clear of Sir Beaudoin tonight, are you? To elude yet another of his likely advances? Or avoid publicly refusing an invitation to dance with him, which would set the entire kingdom afire, to say nothing of how Mother and Father would view it? Margaux’s eyes darted about the room, which was now almost bare of the latest display of the knight’s interest, before settling once again on Kara’s own.

That buffoon, that proud peacock, can barely put one foot ahead of the other when it comes to dancing, Kara retorted. He’s more a great bear than anything else! No, I fear not that. I would almost welcome the chance to put the imbecile in his proper place. Under my feet! Oh, I wish Father had sent him away with Basil, Etienne, and Henri to fight that band of trolls that is stealing cattle and other livestock from our northern territories. Why send our brothers when Sir Beaudoin could have been given the opportunity to demonstrate his vaunted mettle by battling with those beasts? If God had answered my prayers, he would have been assigned such a task and suffered his death under their foul hands!

Now, now, Kara, Margaux tut-tutted. Those thoughts are undeserving of even Sir Beaudoin. But well, then, if not that, where are you truly going?

Kara avoided her sister’s inquisitive eyes and turned to look out the nearest window. It’s related to a personal matter. One I cannot even share with you. But it is no assignation as you have suggested. It’s something of much more consequence than that…for me.

You won’t tell me? Even in part? Margaux asked in her best simpering voice.

Not this one time. You know my heart more than most, but this I must hold to myself until circumstances change. Kara turned swiftly to regard her sister. Will you promise? Will you do this for me?

Margaux quieted herself, her gay features suddenly altering into more serious lines and her voice matched her change of manner. For you, Caroline (making use of the formal name given to Kara at her birth), anything. You know that. She took Kara’s toughened and calloused hand, bereft of any adornment, in her own soft and bejewelled one, and squeezed it as tightly as she could.

Then, thank you, Sister. Now, I must go. I needs be out the castle gates before the chance escapes me. And do not worry overmuch for me. I expect to return well before the dawn.

But Kara, should not some of the palace guards go with you? What if you should be waylaid along whatever path you tread tonight?

Now, it was Kara’s time to laugh. Oh, little Sister. I can take care of myself. I am not as defenceless as most men here would consider me. Despite her bold words, Kara observed doubt grow in Margaux’s eyes, but she decided not to disabuse her sister of her misgivings. Soon enough, those would be shown to be based on erroneous perceptions as so much else had been.

The two sisters turned and both made to depart the chamber. Oh! Eloise, please let me take those with me, Margaux remarked, upon seeing the last of the bouquets in the servant’s hands. She brought the blooms to her nose, drawing in their heady fragrance. I so love dahlias. No matter what else you may think, Kara, Sir Beaudoin has good taste and not just in flowers.

Feeling pricked and somewhat goaded by Margaux’s insinuation, Kara rolled her eyes as she rushed away from the giddy laughter of her beloved and cherished sister.

______Ж______

Chapter Two

You there! Bring out Nightshade and ready him for me to ride. And be quick about it! I wish to leave before the next quarter is sounded out.

But…but that’s Princess Kara’s horse. Who are you to demand—

Just who do you think I am? And do not act so familiar with me. I am to be addressed by my formal name. Do you know nothing of the castle?

The young man, who could scarcely be a year or two older than herself, ducked his upper body into a quick bow, his eyes bulging near out of his sockets. My apologies, my lady, I didn’t know. I am new to—

Enough of your incessant talking! Just do as I have ordered, for I have a great need to be away. Or must I seek out another to perform this simple duty? And do you possess even the slightest idea of which stall Nightshade is quartered in?

I…I…Yes, I know of the horse. I will bring him, my lady, as soon as I am able.

"Now would be most suitable," Kara declared scathingly. She was feeling the pressure to escape the castle before her father or her mother became aware of her intentions, having been delayed for almost three quarters after leaving both her chambers and Margaux. Maddeningly, she’d become embroiled in a nattering argument with two of the palace architects regarding renovations underway in another section of the castle: an unwanted duty her mother had assigned to her in a vain attempt to mould her into something she deemed more ladylike. A hopeless one—or so Kara thought. Far after she should have, she’d cut off any further dialogue with a slashing movement of her hand, ordering the two men to flip a coin and let the winner decide.

She could abide no further delays. A single, one-worded command from either of her parents and all of her planning and hopes over the last several months would come to naught. And now, she had to deal with some new stable-hand who didn’t know her and likely little else, or so she imagined. Perhaps she should have simply sought out her gelding on her own. But that might have raised questions. No, it was better to do what she had done and attempt to survive the growing tension building inside herself. Why did that dratted lizard have to show up just at this time and act in such a manner that her father felt compelled to send out a force of men to combat it and either kill it or send it fleeing back to wherever it had come from?

Over the next quarter, Kara paced the outline of the paddock adjacent to the royal barns, waiting for that poor excuse of a servant to fulfill his duty. The fifth time about on her circuit she heard a familiar clip-clop of hooves, and a following companionable whicker when the stable doors opened. Finally!

Near running over to Nightshade, she presumptuously took the reins out of the stableman’s hands. His saddle is properly tightened? He plays games at times swelling his girth.

No, my lady, I…I know enough about horses to understand those tricks. He played none of those with me. I made certain enough of that. The young man ducked another nervous bow, keeping his eyes to the ground.

I’ll know the truth of that soon enough. Now, one more thing. Kara lowered her voice, mimicking the royal tone of command she had observed her father making use of on so many countless occasions. First, what is your name? For I wish you to understand that if you do not do exactly what I tell you next, I will ensure that you rue it for the rest of your life. Do you hear me?

The young man in front of her raised his eyes into her general vicinity. Yes…yes, Your Highness. It…it is Alexandre.

Tell no one of my departure or of my riding out on Nightshade. If any asks of you, you are to deny any knowledge of seeing me or giving me your aid in any manner. Do you understand that?

Y-Y-Yes, my lady. The stable-hand paused, swallowing audibly before adding, But do you intend to travel much beyond the castle proper? Should not some of the guards accompany you? The night is drawing—

What?! You think me some defenceless woman needing the company of men to protect her? Think again, knave. I have no need of such. I could take you down without so much as a single breath. Now open the gate, and I will take my leave of you.

Upon doing so, Kara swung herself up onto Nightshade and spurred the horse to turn about in a tight circle. Just before she had the thoroughbred gallop down the laneway leading to the castle gates, she bent over and hissed at the young man. Remember! No word, Alexandre! None!

______Ж______

Alexandre waited until the hoof beats of the royal steed had faded away and been replaced by the other sounds of the barnyard. Then he lifted his head and his eyes to catch a last glimpse of the princess before she passed out through the first of several gates that led to the castle walls. So that is Princess Kara. He shook himself, releasing the tension he felt everywhere within his body. It would be just my luck to be the only one here in the stables when she decided to bless me with her presence. Being the most recent arrival to labour here in the barns, he’d been the one volunteered to wait until all the rest returned from their evening meal.

Since being assigned this work, he’d heard a few stories concerning this daughter of King Jolivet, none of which he had believed, thinking the retainers and the others, who toiled away beside him here in the stables, had been testing out just how gullible he was. But now he knew better. She was everything they had described to him. In truth, worse. And how had he portrayed himself in this first chance encounter? As some bumbling oaf, giving truth to every word of contempt she had uttered in his presence.

Alexandre shut the gate, intent on returning to the duties still left to him. The princess had interrupted his grooming of Sir Beaudoin’s warhorse and that task needed to be completed before the stallion could settle himself properly for the night. Soon enough, Alexandre imagined, both he and the knight he now served would be off to regions unknown to battle with that dragon. A new and different form of tremor took hold and shook him. Dragons? He’d never imagined having to face something as dangerous as that nightmarish kind of creature after seeking employment here at the castle. No, until being assigned to the knight, he had thought the barns would ever be his constant abode.

What he knew best was the care of animals, horses in particular. Before arriving here, he had laboured half-days for the local sheriff in the county he hailed from, chiefly caring for that official’s own mounts. Yet, for whatever reason, the service he had provided here in the stables over the past two weeks had caught the eye of Sir Beaudoin, and before Alexandre knew it, he’d been selected as his new retainer. There was still much to learn, but the highly-regarded knight appeared willing to be patient with him.

As he re-entered through the barn doors, Alexandre glanced one last time toward the paddock, ruefully shaking his head. What deep matter concerned Princess Kara such that it would cause her to depart in such a hurry? It troubled him in a small way. From working with the sheriff, he knew of the dangers that lay upon any road of the kingdom: brigands, petty criminals, looters, thieves. Despite the king’s own soldiers and the local constabulary, the land was too vast to ensure that all the inhabitants of the kingdom could be kept safe. And assuredly, those intent on harm knew where those places were from which they could carry out their own brand of lawlessness. Did the princess possess a true awareness of what she might face out there?

Somewhat helplessly, Alexandre shrugged his shoulders. He hoped none would find him to ask of her whereabouts. Then he would be faced with a dilemma of whom he served most of all. Well, one thing was for certain: Princess Kara was nothing like her sister. Now, if there ever was one who possessed all of what a woman should, Princess Margaux was the one.

With the image of the younger princess firmly fixed in his mind, Alexandre allowed his thoughts to fling out into other dreamlike musings as he returned to his earthbound duties.

______Ж______

Kara paced an impatient circle about the small and smokeless fire: the beacon that was to declare, as had been attested to throughout the series of messages secretly exchanged over the last several months, she was here and ready to be tested. She hadn’t entirely lied to Margaux. This hilltop, clad in a screen of elm trees, overlooked St. Cadieux, the small chapel which lay hidden below her deep within the shadows of the growing dusk. It had been constructed long centuries ago, its stonework wrested from the rocky soil, chiefly by human toil, and erected block by block to honour their Lord. That humble, consecrated abode sat at the bottom of the wide dale which divided where she stood from the uplands upon which the first roots of her own home had been built during an even earlier age. From her vantage, four leagues distant, the outlines of the castle’s upper palisades could still be detected, sketched out by the last red rays of the sinking sun.

Though she was loath admitting to it, the fear that she would miss out on this one chance, this golden opportunity, this last gamble to have what she had desired for so long, to choose her own destiny, gripped her heart and made it stutter. Her anxiousness had driven her to urge Nightshade to gallop as if the giant black wolves of the northern vales of Umbria were clawing and slathering at his hooves. Having somehow sensed her own unease, her gelding had arrived here, lathered in a thick layer of sweat, his eyes rounded into great circles, and his lungs heaving like the blacksmith’s own bellows, in less time than it took the great bells of the castle to sound out a quarter twice.

After first determining that no one was about and that there was no sign of earlier occupation during the day, Kara had turned her attention back to Nightshade and had towelled him off, calming him, and then tethered him some distance downhill from where she now strode. Her mount was now at peace, but she was not.

How could she be? Everything! Everything depended upon what would occur over the next several quarters. Taking a deep inward breath, she released it slowly, seeking to steady her nerves, for now, if at no other time, she needed to draw on that inner resolve, which Sir Tanquay constantly reminded and taught her determined the outcome of any contest, of any battle. Kara knew she possessed it, possessed it in full, far beyond any man she had yet met, excepting the old battle master himself, and yes, she had to admit, her father when he chose to call upon it. Her father.

He was another battleground that she did not wish to surrender a body length to, nay a foot, an inch! She knew what matter had been chief in his mind over the last year, though he had chosen not to include her in his plans. Far too often of late, it almost made her blood come to a seething boil! He was intending to marry her off! And soon. Within the next year!

Did any think that he might consider her own thoughts on the matter? To whom she might have some preference? Or that she might not wish to marry at all? At least to none of the types of men that her brother, Henri, in one of his more loquacious moods, had been willing to confess were being considered (and that included Sir Beaudoin!). Kara refused to accept that her entire purpose in life was to be used as a piece on the chess board of national, international, and royal politics: a token to be exchanged for some other perceived advantage—to bear children, heirs, to be a dutiful and doting wife for a man who more than likely was unworthy of such a benevolence.

No, she wanted her own life, one whose triumphs and defeats, its prizes, and its burdens, would be obtained through her own choices and