* * *
Bronwyn changed into a fresh uniform, washed his face and combed his hair. He grabbed a quick snack then returned to the Private Audience Room. Sanderson, Farlan, Blomidon, Catriona and Alaura had already arrived. The marmoset rested on Alaura’s lap, half hidden behind her arm. A stranger, a male human, sat at the end of the table in Wilhelm’s former seat.
Before Bronwyn had a chance to say anything, the door near the tapestry opened, and Lord Val entered. Everyone stood as he took his seat. Once again, the dwarf found himself directly across the table from the elven lord.
“I’ll conduct the meeting alone this morning.” Lord Val glanced at the paper in front of him. “The investigation into last evening’s incident is complete. The details on both men have been gathered and filed. There will be no further discussion.”
“Over? The man broke down my door and assaulted me!” Catriona’s sharp voice shot at the lord. “He held a dagger to my throat! How could he gain entry to the castle? In a guard’s uniform, no less!”
“Catriona’s correct. He’s the henchman who escaped,” said Bronwyn. Sanderson’s large hand on his shoulder quashed his next comment.
“Silence!” Lord Val glared at Catriona. “You’re to remain quiet unless requested to speak. Castle security is not your concern.”
“How can there be a discussion if everyone is not permitted to speak?” Catriona challenged the lord.
Bronwyn thought the same but remained hushed.
“One more word from you, Miss Wheatcroft, and you’ll spend the night in the dungeon.”
Catriona balked at the warning.
Lord Val moved a paper to the top of the pile. He paused, reviewing the next issue before reading it aloud. Surprise ripened in his greyish-green eyes and spread across his face like a dragon’s wing unfolding before flight. The lord tugged at his shirt collar. He leant towards the paper and took a deep breath. Bronwyn thought he smelt the document.
In a calmer voice Lord Val continued. “To the business of this orphan. After sorting through the information on this…creature, we have decided it is not the child in the prophecy. Her only significance is her relationship with Keiron Ruckle, a notorious thief.”
Sanderson placed his pencil on his papers and sat back in his chair.
“We believe the orphan is in no significant danger. She simply requires a caregiver to provide her basic needs until she’s old enough to fend for herself. It’s a small task but a worthy one.” Lord Val looked at the dwarf. “We have appointed Corporal Darrow as her legal guardian.”
“There must be a mistake!” Bronwyn looked to Sanderson for help, but he appeared more stunned at the announcement than he.
“Corporal, you were not asked to speak.” Lord Val continued. “The lords have discussed the options and have decided you are the ideal person to provide care for this orphan.”
“I disagree!” Alaura raised her voice. “Isla needs a hauflin family who will love her. I have found such a family in Petra.”
“Silence!” ordered Lord Val. “She is a citizen of Maskil and here is where she will remain!”
Alaura stood. Holding Isla in one hand, she rested the other on the table and leant forward to challenge the lord. “With all respect due to Corporal Darrow, he’s in no position to provide a loving home for this child. He’s not united!”
Bronwyn watched Lord Val flick his fingers in Alaura’s direction. She immediately closed her mouth and sat down. An unknown force seemed to trap her, and she struggled against it. He glanced at Sanderson; his facial expression spoke volumes. With his eyes and every muscle in his face, Sanderson urged the guard to refuse the appointment.
“My Lord, I agree with Alaura,” said Bronwyn. “The child needs a mum. I’m dedicated to duty. I don’t have time to play nursemaid.”
Lord Val raised his hand to hush him. “The decision is final. Corporal, you will take immediate charge of this orphan.”
“I don’t want it!” He rose from his chair. “How clear must I be?”
The lord folded his hands on the table and spoke in an emotionless voice. “If you refuse to care for this orphan, you will be charged with neglect. You will be stripped of your rank, dishonourably discharged and sentenced to two years in the dungeon. Do you accept this appointment, Corporal Darrow?”
The expanding lump in Bronwyn’s throat made swallowing difficult. He had dedicated his life to mastering the sword and the past seven years to the service of Aruam Castle. In spite of his accomplishments and commitment to duty, he teetered on the verge of losing everything. Flabbergasted, he lowered himself into the chair.
“Corporal Darrow, answer the question.”
The two years in the dungeon weren’t as damaging as the dishonourable discharge; that would sully Bronwyn’s reputation, making him ineligible to re-enlist as a castle guard after serving his sentence. All his life he dreamt of wearing a uniform. If he had to relinquish it, he’d be lost. He had to keep it at all cost.
“I accept.”
“Speak up.”
“I accept the appointment.” Bronwyn scowled at Lord Mulryan’s empty chair, wondering why the dwarf lord had done this to him. Did he punish him for the lack of control he displayed the night before? He wished he’d never laid eyes on Alaura of Niamh and the monkey.
“It is settled then. You are removed from duty for the next three days to familiarize yourself with your ward. Then you are expected to fulfill your duties as usual. You will be assigned new quarters to accommodate you both.” Lord Val rose. “The meeting is over. May you all be well.” He picked up his papers and exited the room.
Damn you! How in the Caverns of Confusion am I supposed to care for a bairn and fulfill my duties? Impossible! Bronwyn hoped the potion never wore off. He’d cage the monkey with food and water and walk away. He heard Sanderson rise and leave the room. The ownership of a child spelt the end of a promising career. No one with a bairn rose above the rank of corporal. Blomidon and the new scribe also left.
Bronwyn sulked as he thought about his future. The lords had no right to force a ward into his life. He’d always be a single man. What would he do with a child? He slouched in his chair, rested his head in his hand and tried to come to grips with what had transpired.
“Sir, shall I escort the women out of the castle?” Farlan waited for his orders.
He signalled for Farlan to remove them. He wanted to be alone.
“Perhaps an element of good will come from this.” Alaura rose from her chair. She hugged Isla and placed her on the dwarf’s lap. “I’ll drop by this afternoon with her personal items.”
“Whatever.” Bronwyn sank into a brewing storm. “Bring only what it needs. Dispose of the rest.” He didn’t want junk cluttering his quarters.
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Alaura’s voice bit with sarcasm. “Make sure she remains safe.”
“You’re going to threaten me, too?” Bronwyn’s voice grew with his frustration. “Fortunately, you can’t do more damage than what’s already done!”
“You selfish rogue.” Alaura’s eyes flashed. “You’ve forgotten there’s an innocent child who has to live with the outrageous ruling of that lord!”
“I made it quite clear I didn’t want it! I don’t give a damn what happens to it!” As a final jab, he said, “Maybe I’ll sell it to the theatre. They’re always looking for new acts.”
Alaura erupted and slapped him across the face. “Your mum would be ashamed if she witnessed your behaviour! You’re nothing like her!”
Startled by the slap, Isla ducked beneath the guard’s vest. She wriggled until her small body tucked inside and pressed into the warm confines of the uniform.
Taken by surprise, Bronwyn had no time to defend himself and received the full strength of the slap on the cheek. Her hand left a burning sensation which fuelled his anger. He’d have struck her down with one solid punch if not for being a woman. “Farlan, escort this half-bitch and her two-bit witch out of the castle!”
<
br /> “Yes, sir!” Farlan ushered the women towards the door.
Alaura glared at the dwarf. “If anything happens to her, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”
The door closed, and Bronwyn released a long sigh. His anger waned and his thoughts cleared. As the minutes ticked away, he replayed Lord Val’s words, searching for a loophole to rid himself of the monkey. His mind worked forward through the entire meeting until the end when Alaura had threatened and slapped him. He cringed as he heard again the words he had spoken to her.
Bronwyn couldn’t believe it. He had never before spoken so harshly to anyone. Why to Alaura, of all people? Although they barely knew each other, he admired her. But the look she gave him—the one which said he had better do what she said or else—ignited his anger. Or else what? She had taunted him, lured him into saying his worst.
It confounded him to know the woman could make him lose his senses, first with her grace and then with her spite. She must have used magic.
He wanted to fall into a deep sleep and forget about Alaura and his new unreasonable responsibilities. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair. This could be a nightmare, and when he woke, everything would be as it should. He breathed deeply, trying to cleanse his mind.
The movement of the monkey extracting itself from his vest disturbed his thoughts. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed it would disappear. He squeezed them tighter and wished it away.
He felt the animal move off his lap and heard its claws click on the surface of the table. It soon returned, its paws slipping on his trousers.
“Ah!” Bronwyn jumped when icy water splashed against his face. The monkey, a glass and the chair went flying. When he realised water had soaked the front of his fresh uniform, his anger resurfaced. “Can this day get any worse?” He looked for the creature. It hid beneath the table.
“Get over here!” He clenched his fist and glared at it.
The monkey backed away, keeping an eye on the dwarf as it looked for a place to hide.
Bronwyn shoved aside chairs and marched around the table. He caught the marmoset before it darted away. As he prepared to yell insults at it, he felt its rapid heartbeat. It gawked at him with big round eyes, its appendages flailing. It sensed imminent pain in his grasp. Last night, he had soothed the monkey’s fears. Today, he provoked them.
Bronwyn calmed his anger. He had no intentions of harming the strange creature though it caused his troubles. It really hadn’t purposefully robbed him of his freedom; Lord Val had woven their lives together. The monkey had as much say in the matter as he did. As Alaura had said, the ridiculous ruling affected him and an innocent child.
Or did the blame sit with Lord Val? The early morning conversation with Lady Dasia replayed in his mind. She had told him to embrace change, to take care of those who couldn’t protect themselves. A child fell under that category, but raising a child made no small task and certainly not one for a swordsman.
The door flew open. A female servant rushed in. “Is everything as it should be?”
Bronwyn drew the monkey near. “I made a small mess. I’m sorry.”
“No worry. Accidents happen.” She smiled at the animal in his arms. “What’s its name?”
Not wanting to connect the monkey with his future ward, Bronwyn said, “I’m minding it for a friend.” He eyed the colourful buttons on the woman’s blue dress. “Its name is Button.”
“Well, Button, you’re as sweet as a button. Don’t worry about the mess. I’ll take care of it.”
Bronwyn nodded to the servant and left the room. He glanced at the monkey in his arms. Carrying it this way seemed unnatural. “Maybe you should ride up here.” He lifted it to his shoulder. Its claws dug into his vest but didn’t reach his skin.