The Chronicles of Articia; Children of the Dead. K.D. Enos

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      Chapter 4

      A Hidden Conspiracy

      Alec grasped the wooden sword tightly despite the renewed pain that shot up his side and his arms. The red welts on his body were the cause of his discomfort, but he still lifted the sword to block his sister's attack in his attempt to receive no more bruises. Alec preferred competing with his sister at archery, or horseback riding, in which he was particularly talented. Nevertheless, here he was again, in the training yard taking another beating from his sister Ava. Alec had become an excellent swordsman, mostly thanks to Bryn's training and his dislike of the injuries he received from training with his sister. They learned early from the many sparring contests that Bryn arranged; the only people in the castle that could best him with a sword were his brothers Tristan and Dominic, the king himself, his sister Ava, and of course Bryn. In fact, Alec cannot remember anyone who even caused Bryn to break a sweat in competition.

      Ava swung to his left, her sword making a loud thwack against his sword. His fingers instantly went numb. How is Ava using magic to do that again! He thought. The wooden swords they used for practice did not make the same satisfactory clang as the swords that clashed in battle, but they could still cause pain. Grunting with effort, he ducked again and aimed low for her legs. As agile as ever, she jumped the sword and came crashing back on the attack.

      His feet skated across the gravelly dirt as his breath came quickly. Feinting to the left, he tried to trick Ava by coming under her swing. She pretended that his action fooled her until the last second when she backed up and quickly came up under his sword. It was one of Ava's signature moves, and he felt stupid for falling for it every time despite his knowledge of the tactic. His sister used the same strategy when she played chess, sacrificing her queen just to make the final checkmate with a pawn.

      Ava stepped into his swing and was about to disarm him but Bryn intervened. "I almost forgot; you two need to get ready for the banquet your parents are holding for your brother's coming-of-age ceremony. Go now, or you'll be late."

      Ava groaned, irritated that the spar ended just before her victory. Alec grinned, silently thanking the gods for his escape from additional bruises on his hammered body.

      They hurried up to their bedchambers. The castle had a secret passage from the training ground to the sitting area of their rooms. The twins had discovered the dank and long-forgotten passage many years ago. It became important for the twins to use this route to the training grounds so that Ava could avoid being discovered running about in trousers. Her regular antics had already caused a stir among the royal staff. Seeing Ava in nontraditional attire for a princess of the realm would have sent the castle inhabitants into pandemonium. The servants tolerated much from the young twins, but they were traditionalists and would not be able to tolerate the princess walking the halls of the castle in her brother's trousers without a specific decree from King Henry.

      The passage ended in the main room in the twins' bedchambers. Their father had tried to put them in separate lodgings years ago but had given up when they had both refused to eat, sleep, or do anything until the abomination ended. Instead, a door was constructed, at Ava request, between the two connected rooms so they could still be together. It allowed each of the siblings to have private space.

      Aleczander washed from the basin and donned a royal blue tunic with ruffled sleeve ends; he always loved the light swoosh the fabric made as it slipped over his head. Most of Alec's clothing, including the tunic, is imported from the markets in Cyrus. The merchants of the eastern shore sold fabrics that folklore said to be sewn from the silk of remarkable worms raised by the elves of the Vale. His trousers and cape were fine-looking ivy green. He pulled on his favorite black boots. Looking in the mirror, he had to admit he looked good. Look out ladies, here I come, Alec thought as he attempted to pull a comb through his black curls.

      He swore under his breath as his comb was stuck in his mass of hair. Alec stopped fussing as Ava took the comb from his hands and gently teased the curls out. "Patience is a virtue, little brother."

      Alec smiled at his younger sister. He was her elder by only a few minutes, and he thought, Even though you can still pummel me with that sword of yours, I can now out lift, out climb, out ride, and outrun you.

      Ava had washed her hair and brushed it out by the fireplace to dry it. It was still quite cold in Articia despite winter's waning. Once the season made it uncomfortable to set a fire, it would be more difficult to dry her hair; she would have to allow much more time to ready herself for castle events.

      When her hair was clean and dry, it naturally curled and waved beautifully past her shoulder blades and down her back. Her midnight blue gown and deep green cloak were identical in color to his garments, so they matched. Ava looked in the mirror quickly. She never spent much time admiring herself in the reflecting glass; it was a functional device. Like her clothing, her brush, her comb, it served a purpose-to ensure that she would be presentable in court. Otherwise, she never really concerned herself with her looks. Though she did make the mistake once of asking Alec about her appearance. He completely misinterpreted her request; she had only wanted to know if she was presentable, but he had pulled out one particularly embarrassing love letter from a baron's son and read it aloud to her. It reminded her why she was not particularly fond of the note or its author.

      Ava, your face was beautiful to gaze upon,

      your cheekbones high and flushed with color

      and seen with spotless complexion.

      You full red lips curved in a smile,

      straight nose curved only slightly,

      not pudgy but not overly long.

      Your chin is delicate but strong,

      almost like iron-filled glass.

      Your eyebrows are, like your hair,

      jet black, but not too thick.

      Your eyes, a stormy gray

      were always hinting a smile.

      Ava knew she was stunning and held herself like someone who knew it. However, that was the absolute worst poem she had ever gotten from any of the noble courtiers. "Alec! Where did you get that?" Why did I keep it? "Give it to me now!"

      "Sure," Alec replied, handing her the parchment. "I made many copies." Aleczander smiled to himself as he took his sister's arm and led her down the hall. Though told by many that he was handsome, compared to Ava, he felt rather plain.

      Despite their rush, the two walked into the grand hall a little late.

      "I told you we should have skipped practice today," Alec hissed through his teeth as everyone in the room cheered for a prince and princess of their kingdom. While Dominic would be high king one day, and the only one who could not marry into another kingdom, Tristan and Aleczander would be kings, and Ava a queen with many freedoms that their oldest brother would not realize. The position of high queen would be reserved for Dominic's wife, whenever he got around to choosing one; but there was no rush while King Henry was still on the throne.

      "It's called being fashionably late; it's something normal princes and princesses do," she whispered as she smiled and waved to a particularly attractive noble's son.

      Alec winced at his father's glare as he and Ava took seats on each side of their mother, as they always did during formal occasions. She nodded to them, smiling СКАЧАТЬ