Fire And Ice (Book 1) (11 page)

             
Her smile slowly slipped away.  “I think we should be going,” she told the others.

             
Coran held back a sigh as he followed them. 

             
The market square was filled with all manner of people.  Also, the square was swamped with an excess of merchants trying to take advantage of the increase in potential patrons who were here because of the tournament.   The shouting of their wares was lost in the overall babble of voices.                             

             
Even with the four guards around them they were hard pressed to make much headway through the crowd.  In one area it was so clogged that people were being pushed right up against Katelyn and the others.  At that point all were in agreement with the necessity of returning to the palace.  Shopping would have to wait for another day.

             
As they passed a stall where several items of silver were laid out on a black cloth for display, Coran happened to catch sight of some short, pale colored hair moving in the crowd back the way they had come.  The stall was also the last before leaving the market area.  Coran moved in close to Katelyn.

             
“I have to check on something,” he told her loud enough to be heard over the noise of the crowd.  She looked a question at him, but he did not have time to explain.  “I will explain later.”  Then he was pushing back into the sea of people.

             
He was taller than most Midians and could see over the heads of most of those around him.  People who met him for the first time often wondered if he was a Northman since they were all supposed to be so tall.  He had met a few and they were tall, but usually his height or a little more. 

             
It took a few moments of scanning heads before he spotted white hair perhaps thirty yards away.  The person was heading towards the far edge of the market.  Coran pushed his way through as quickly as he could.  A few people grumbled harsh words at him, but nothing more.  He was a lord after all, and armed.               

             
When he broke free of the crowd it was sudden, and he almost fell forward onto the stones.  He regained his balance and looked down the street to his right, and then the left.  The people in sight were those shuffling quickly towards the market or away from it.  There were also scattered knots of people standing together in different places along the streets, but nowhere did he spy any pale colored hair.  He just stood there for a few moments to think it through.  It might not have been the same person.  There was no reason to believe that the man would be here or even know that Coran was.  For some reason he did not believe that.  There was nothing to do but return to the palace and keep his eyes open.

              That night went much like the first.  Katelyn talked mostly with Rob, him smiling.  Coran talked mostly with Willa, him occasionally scowling.  Alys joined them this time and stayed mostly with Katelyn.  If Willa noticed his scowls she never mentioned it.  A few times he would turn to look across the room only to see Katelyn already looking at him with a worried expression.  When she saw him seeing her, she would look away quickly.  He didn’t know why she would be worried, or why he kept scowling. 

             
For some reason things were changing between them.  When they were younger she had been Margery’s little sister who liked to tag along when they went places.  As they got older she became a part of the group with him, Margery, Devon, and sometimes Jocelyn, and sometimes someone else.  The year before he had left Summerhall they had become close friends, and in a sense they were family.  Where she fit into his definition of family was something he didn’t know.  Now there seemed to be a growing awkwardness between them that started when he returned to Summerhall.  He just wished he could understand how things were changing.

 
              The third day dawned warmer than it had been and only a few puffy clouds dotted the light blue sky.  It was a perfect spring day with the smell of life suffusing the air. 

             
After another morning spent in conversation, Coran wondered how women could find so much to talk about, and a brief lunch, Willa suggested they watch her brother in the practice yard.  The others agreed quickly for the distraction.

             
The yard was almost identical to the one at Summerhall except slightly larger.  A bench ran across one wall with a few discarded towels scattered across its surface.  The next wall was lined with racks that held wooden practice blades and long staffs.  A half dozen men stripped to the waist, sweat standing out on their chests and backs, moved about the yard in pairs.  The skill of the sparrers and the lack of any instructors told Coran that this yard was reserved for those who had already achieved their knighthood, or guardsmen finished with their initial training.

             
Rob’s current opponent was of the same size as him, but not of the same skill.  Within a few moments the Prince had the man disarmed and on the ground.  Rob stretched out a hand to help him up, then patted the man’s shoulder companionably.  The loser went to the bench as Rob looked up to see them watching.  He flashed one of his winning smiles in Katelyn’s direction.  Coran thought that the Prince smiled far too much.

             
“Coran!” Rob called up to him.  “How about a bit of sport?”  He lifted his wooden blade in explanation.

             
Normally, as a guest, he would not think it such a good idea, but the way Rob smiled set his teeth on edge.  “I think a bit of sport is a wonderful idea.”

             
Katelyn caught the look on his face and grabbed his arm before he reached the stairs leading down to the yard.  “Coran!” she began, a little louder than she intended.  She looked at the others before going on in a softer voice.  “You are not going to hurt him.”  It was not a question.  She watched him train on many occasions and knew the level of his skill.

             
“Hurt him?” he replied innocently, “why would I do that?”

             
She put her fists on her hips and by her face he could tell she didn’t believe him.  “I know you do not like him.”

             
“Why would you say that?”

             
“Because of the way you keep looking at him.”   

             
Was it that obvious
?  “I will not hurt him,” he told her.

             
“I am not sure what you two are talking about, but if you think you can beat my brother you should know that he is better than he just showed,” Willa informed them.  Katelyn’s voice must have carried louder then she thought.  “He was just going easy on Petr.”

             
“You do not know Coran,” Katelyn said as she released her grip on his arm.

             
Coran left them talking as he took the stairs down with easy steps.  He reached the yard and crossed the court to where the wooden blades hung in order from smallest to largest.  He picked out one that was the size of his real sword, then went to the center of the yard where Rob waited patiently.

             
“Ready?” Rob asked,  moving into the proper stance.  He sounded a little amused.  If it was for his opponent, then the Prince should think again. 

             
“Ready,” Coran responded evenly.  He was calm.  Emotions clouded movement and allowed mistakes to happen. 

             
The Prince advanced, Coran waited unmoving.  Rob attacked and the blades met with a loud crack.  They moved about each other with a deadly grace.  One attacking, then defending.  Coran had to admit that Rob was quite good, but it was not enough to keep his blade from finding flesh several times.  He did not strike hard, but it was still enough for Rob to grunt.  Coran remained untouched as the Prince gained what would become fresh bruises from his chest to just above his knees.  The Prince of Westland finally accepted the inevitable, and raised his hand for Coran to stop.  “I yield,” Rob said, breathing heavily.  A smile came to his lips, but it was not his usual one.  This time it was more wry.  “I hope to never face you when you are angry.”

             
“I am angry,” Coran said and was surprised to find it true.  He had been upset, but he didn’t think it had gone as far as anger.  Maybe that was why Katelyn had warned him.  But if she knew he was angry with Rob, why didn’t she say anything about it sooner? 

             
Robert looked confused at first.  He glanced up to where his sister stood watching intently with Katelyn and Alys.  The glance was for Katelyn.  “I wondered why you did not seem to like me.”

             
“It is not that,” Coran responded, then realized that was not entirely true.  “Well not exactly.  Let us just say that that smile of yours can be irritating to some.”

             
Rob nodded seriously.  “I will try to control myself.”  The confused look was still there.  “Did the Lady Katelyn not tell you that I had already decided to choose her sister?  That is, if Margery will have me.”

             
It was Coran’s turn to be confused.  “No, she did not.”

             
“Strange,” Rob commented.  Then he shook his head to put it out of his mind.  “I hope that you will no longer think ill of me?”

             
Coran laughed and put a hand to the man’s shoulder as he suddenly realized he could not think of one good reason to dislike this man.  “I think I am going to like you after all.”                The new friends went to the benches to wipe away the sweat.  With a towel in hand Coran looked to his charge.  She was watching them with a great deal of interest.  It was obvious she wanted to know what they had said.  Coran was inclined to let her wait before finding out.

              That night they arranged the furniture so they could all sit down and talk together.  Coran did not scowl once.  He noticed that Rob was indeed trying to curb his smiling.  Both things made Katelyn look at him even more often.  He could guess what she was thinking. 
Why are they all of the sudden acting like old friends?  What did they say to each other?
  She was chewing her lip in frustration.

             
After awhile Coran excused himself and went to an adjoining room where one door led to the King and Queen’s private chambers.  He took the second door that opened out onto a small, rounded balcony.  Unlike many other cities built by Midians, Westhaven was not built on a hill.  The level he was on was not high enough for him to see much of the city beyond the inner wall that separated the palace courtyard from the rest of Westhaven.  He could see the torches that lighted the outer wall and towers. 

             
He raised his head to look at the familiar stars and tried to put his thoughts in order.  He was ready to admit that he liked Rob now that everything had been straightened out.  Katelyn was another matter.  Something was going on there.  Why did she not tell him about Rob and Margery?  Or about Rob and her?  Maybe she did not think it mattered to him, and why should it?  He stopped that line of thinking immediately.  He had no idea why it should matter except he thought that Rob was treating Margery poorly by pursuing Katelyn.  That was the only reason and nothing else. 

Moving on from that topic, he was concerned about Willa.  After the sparring session with Rob she had looked at him in a certain way that made him feel uncomfortable.  He couldn’t be sure, but he was afraid that she might be thinking of him in ways other than a friend.  He hoped that he was wrong.  He could be.  Since returning to Summerhall he was starting to realize how little he really knew about women.

              Finally, he considered once again why Stemis had chosen him.  There were others with more experience in protection if there should be a need, and in diplomacy with dealing with people from the other kingdoms.  A clue might be that the King had to assume that Torvilin might be here.  Even before Coran had told his father about the Voltian’s leaving, Stemis had increased the guards on the escort.  So was he supposed to deal with Torvilin while he was here or was it just a precaution?  And why him?  The only reason he could come up with was that Coran was younger and might be able to deal with Torvilin more freely.  A more experienced man might be more likely to let King Robert handle any difficulties that arose, since he was the host.  After all, who else would have punched a visiting prince during a banquet?  If that was true, then he was being used to get rid of the Voltian problem.  Not that he minded very much, but again he had to wonder why it was so important.

             
He tried to recall some of the reasons he thought of before, only one kept coming to mind.  A chill ran through him as he became more certain of it.  If he was right, Torvilin could not be allowed to marry Katelyn, no matter the cost.  The true purpose of his assignment was becoming clear.  If Torvilin showed up he would have to confront him.  He might not have a better opportunity, with both of them on neutral ground.  The more he thought about it the more he had to give Stemis a mental bow.               

             
He was suddenly aware of a presence coming onto the balcony behind him.  He knew who it was without looking and was the first to speak.  “Looking for some fresh air Your Highness?”