Knight of Thieves

Chapter 13

Stefan Weyst stared at the boy with interest, wondering most of all how the boy managed to sneak into the castle three times a week for three months without a single person noticing him. It was quite impressive. The boy knew how to get by without any help. And had the castle not just been attacked by Cyrans, Emberly probably would have ignored the thud she heard, assuming it was nothing.

Stefan supposed Emberly made the right choice, bringing Danvon to the stables. He and his father were discussing, asking for more help among the stables. Instead of turning the boy in, he would now have a chance to come by his food honestly. And, while the boy worked for them, he would not be hung for stealing countless items from the castle. Emberly Dern saved this boy’s life.

“You ever worked with horses before?” asked Stefan. The boy shook his head. Of course, he had not. Stefan was going to have to teach him everything. At least he was young and could work many years in the stables. “How old are you?”

“Seven, sir,” said the boy. “Almost eight.”

“Do you realize what Squire Dern is doing for you? Either you come work for me and my father or you’ll be imprisoned for your crimes, possibly hanged.”

“I can take care of myself,” the boy said petulantly. Stefan shook his head.

“Fine job you’re doing. Nearly starving to death and stealing from others. That’s no way to live life. You’ll work for us, you’ll get decent wages and good food, three times a day. But if you work for us, we expect you to be on time and to work hard. Do as you’re told, is that clear?” The boy nodded. But the nod was not enough for Stefan, he needed verbal confirmation. “Aloud. Answer me.”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” said the boy. Stefan distinctly heard sarcasm in the boy’s voice, but he chose to ignore it. He would have to work on the boy’s attitude as well. It was clear he did not know how to trust anyone. Danvon would have to be watched carefully, but he would also have to be shown love and trust. He certainly needed that in his life.

Kyra entered the stables then. A confused expression was on her face as though she was trying to figure out something. Her confusion only seemed to deepen when her eyes fell on the boy standing in the middle of the stables. “Kyler said there was a boy in the cupboard?”

“I think you missed part of his explanation,” said Stefan, amusement in his voice.

“Well, it didn’t make much sense,” Kyra said. She yawned and looked back at the boy.

Stefan knew his friend had been not sleeping well lately. On the night of the attack, she had haphazardly thrown her boys’ clothes on, looking more like a female in men’s clothing than the boy she was supposed to be portraying. Thankfully, he was the only one to see her.

Stefan puzzled out Emberly’s secret only a few weeks after the Winter Festival. He thought Kyler Dern and his servant odd upon first meeting them. But after spending so much time with Kyra during the Festival, it was only a matter of time before he figured it out.

Of course, he did not tell either Kyra or Emberly he knew the truth. Stefan believed that even mentioning a secret aloud was enough to cause it to spread like wildfire. When more than two people knew the truth about something, it was inevitable that the whole castle would know.

So, Stefan kept his distance and his mouth firmly shut.

“This is Danvon,” Stefan said, gesturing slightly to the boy. “He’s going to be working with me here in the stables. Emberly found him hiding in a cupboard.”

Kyra stepped closer to the boy, scrutinizing him. He pursed his lips slightly, noticing how skinny the boy was. He was only a skeleton now, starving slowly. She looked at the dirt caked on Danton’s features, the sigh she let out clearly displayed her disgruntled feelings at the sight.

She inquired after his parents. Danvon only shrugged. “Don’t got none.” Tears promptly appeared in Kyra’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. Stefan knew all about her parents, as she gave him the full story at the Winter Festival. Before Kyra went to work for Lady Emberly, she worked with her parents in an orphanage. She had a great affinity for children, adored them with all her heart. Stefan could see that then. Watching her instantly love this orphan boy only solidified Stefan’s for her. She truly was remarkable.

“C’mon,” Kyra said, putting her arm gently and cautiously around Danton’s shoulders. “Let’s get you cleaned up and some new clothes. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying after that.” She sent a meaningful look at Stefan as she left the room. He knew exactly what that look meant. She expected him to find the boy a place to stay and a pair of new clothes while she warmed the water for the boy’s bath. He nodded to her, letting her know he would take care of it.

Stefan lived with his father in a small home on the castle grounds. The castle afforded many rooms for their servants, but Stefan and his father, Easton, lived apart from the other servants. Their home had, at one time, been the home of the court physician and his family. It was an honor to live in the small hovel. But a physician half a century ago complained about the constant smell of horses because of the home’s proximity to the stables.

The physician and his family were moved to live in the servant’s quarters while the head of the stables was afforded a home. Easton inherited it from his father and Stefan knew this home and position would one day be his.

He walked into the house and headed straight for the room that laid vacant for many years. He did not hesitate outside of the door like he had done so many times before. He hated entering this room, hated disturbing the precious atmosphere preserved inside. Stefan knew he had to do this, for Danton’s sake.

Stefan was not the firstborn of his family. If he had been, he would have been away at war, fighting among the peasant foot soldiers while the knights sat on their horses, leading the armies. Stefan had no desire to fight in a war that would never end. In his mind, the knights of Etrusca and Cyra sent their people to die in the service of an argument they could not resolve. It was cowardly of them and Stefan refused to fight for it.

His older brother, on the other hand, had always seen it as his duty, as a great honor to serve a knight. He wanted to serve his time and return to the stables as a hero. He was so vigilant in his belief that, at only the age of fourteen, Evander enlisted and went off to fight in the war.

At first, Evander was doing well. He would send word about how thrilled he was to be serving the king. But eventually, when his five years of service ended, he came back as an entirely different person. A dark cloud loomed over him. He was jumpy and crass, far from the kind person Stefan had once known. Evander reenlisted, claiming he had nothing else to do with his life.

He died two months later, fighting for a useless cause.

Stefan’s mother was heart broken. She fell into despair, shutting herself off from the world. She cried every day after the news came. Her heart was split because of this asinine war. She followed her son three weeks later, dying peacefully in her sleep.

Stefan moved out of the room he and his brother shared, moving his small cot into the stables, where he could be with the horses. He liked it better in the stables. Horses were simple where humans were complicated. He wanted to rely on these creatures far more than he ever wanted to trust someone else who would leave him behind.

Now, he rummaged through the small cupboard which was used to house his and Evander’s old clothes. He took a pair of trousers and a shirt he thought would fit Danvon relatively well. Then, he rushed to Squire Dern’s room, assuming Kyra had led the boy there to use Emberly’s tub.

After depositing the clothes there, Stefan meandered through the halls, looking for his father. He found Easton sitting in the servant’s dining room, idly munching on some bread.

Stefan sat down across from his father and began to explain everything about the boy.

“He should be taken before the king!”’ Will said, his voice displaying the annoyance and disdain he held at the situation. Emberly crossed her arms. They were standing alone in Emberly’s room, the door locked so that no one would enter without permission. Emberly’s hair was down, having unwoven it the moment they were alone.

“He’s a boy, Will!” She protested. “He’s barely seven and he’s starving. He needs a home with people who will love him.”

“He’s just going to keep stealing from us,” Will said. Emberly could see the resolve in his eyes. She would have to find some way of dissuading him. She refused to watch Danvon hang. He was a young boy and he did not know any better.

She sighed and took a step closer to him. She fiddled with his hand. And, for a moment, Will was appeased. He seemed to relax noticeably. He gently kissed her forehead. “I did not tell you about Danvon to send him to his death. I told you about him so that you would put more patrol men in the tunnels. If Danvon could get in unnoticed, it’s only a matter of time before others do as well.”

“You are so compassionate,” he said, his lips quirking into a small smile. “I like that about you.” Emberly thought about protesting that any good person would do this, but her attempts were stifled by Will pressing his lips against hers. She kissed him back fervently, truly enjoying the feeling of him beside her. He pulled her a little closer to him, his lips trailing down her cheek to her neck.

Someone fiddled at the door, unlocking it from the outside with a key. Of course, Kyra chose to enter the room at this exact moment. Upon seeing Emberly and Will jump apart, Kyra crossed her arms, and kicked the door closed behind her. She shook her head in disbelief, like she could not fathom why she would find them there like this. Will mumbled something unintelligible, turned a frightening color of red, and disappeared, leaving Emberly alone with Kyra.

“You just have to make things more complicated for yourself, don’t you?” Kyra said. Emberly merely shrugged.

“How’s Danvon?” Emberly asked.

“Cheeky,” Kyra said. The woman sighed and unbound her hair, letting the dark locks fall past her shoulders. Kyra ran her hand through her hair, forcing the strands to cooperate. “That boy has an attitude.”

“I think staying with Stefan will be good for him,” Emberly said. She crossed the room and retrieved a book on Malidorian, which Lady Elizabeth gave her. It was clear she was not going to be training this evening, she might as well use her time productively.

Emberly fell asleep with her face pressed into the book.

Lady Elizabeth, the following day, stopped Emberly on her way out of class. Having worked hard with Maria all summer, Emberly was now able to have long, intelligent conversations in Malidorian. While this was great for Emberly, she was beginning to grow bored of Malidor.

“You have mastered the extent of Malidor I know,” Lady Elizabeth informed her. “You have quite the proficiency in languages.”

“Thank you,” Emberly asked, genuinely pleased by the statement. “What should I do now?”

“You should keep practicing your Cyran and your Malidorian, of course. I was wondering if you would like to begin learning any other languages. A good friend of mine, Lady Katherine, has taught the princesses a number of languages. I’m sure, if I asked, she would be willing to work with you as well.”

“I could learn Kentre!” said Emberly suddenly, forgetting to portray her brother for a moment. “Or the language of Avondell. Or even Sycrusan!” Lady Elizabeth grinned at Emberly’s excitement.

“You are welcome to any of those. I will talk to Katherine. I know learning other languages has become a bore to many knights. Most squires see it as a waste of their time. I am glad you do not see it this way, Squire Dern. You better go,” Lady Elizabeth said, adding the last part as a bell rang for lunch over their heads.

“Thank you, Lady Elizabeth,” Emberly said before scampering off to tell her friends the good news.

When Emberly arrived in the Great Hall, she was surprised to find Will and Arran were not quite there yet. Emberly scanned the table of second years, her eyes falling on Frederick Davidson and George Orwell. These two boys were the only second years from the previous year who had to retake the year. They failed the Final Task, just like Keenan Taylar.

Emberly talked with Frederick a couple of times during her first year in training. She did not know him very well, but she saw the way he and George secluded themselves from everyone else, the way they were ashamed of not moving on like their friends.

With a set in her jaw, Emberly strode over to them, taking the seat beside them. Fred gave her a hesitant smile, George quickly ceased whatever he said the moment he saw her. “Hello, Kyler,” greeted Fred.

“Hi,” she returned before realizing she had absolutely no idea what to say. “I just—“

“We can’t tell you what’s in the Final Task,” said George. Emberly blinked in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

“Most of the other second year squires have been begging us to tell them what’s in the Final Task,” said Fred. “It’s starting to get annoying.”

“Only starting?” Fred smirked.

“Sir Wylan says he’ll send us back to the first year again if we tell anyone. And then, if we tell anyone about the first years’ Final Task, he’ll tell the king we’re working with the Cyrans and have us imprisoned.”

“We’re almost completely certain that he’s not joking.”

“I don’t think Sir Wylan jokes,” said Emberly. The boys nodded gravely. “I actually came over here because I’m going to have lunch with you two, if that’s alright.”

“You are more than welcome to,” said Fred. George just grunted. Emberly started a conversation about a recent jousting tournament.

By the end of lunch, Will, Arran, Rowan, Rormir, and James joined them.