Chapter 29

"Where in the blazes have you two been?" Halt demanded, stepping out of the shadows in the courtyard of Castle Caraway. I saw Edmund start next to me but I was too numb to notice and just stared dumbly at Halt. I didn't think anything could get a reaction out of me. Not even the appearance of everyone's favourite god, Gorlog.

"Gorlog's beard!" Edmund exclaimed, letting go of my hand. Some other time I might have laughed at the irony. "Next time please warn me before you step out of corners like that, Halt."

Halt shrugged. "It's a gift that comes with sorcery."

I half-noticed the jibe from my reaction to Halt when we had just met. 'What sorcery is this?' I had shouted in shock. I think I was supposed to laugh, and a part of me found it funny but my face showed no reaction.

"What's wrong?" Halt asked, noticing my mood straight away. "Are you alright, Mon?"

I nodded. A simple dip of my head. It was easy enough to do and didn't require much coordination or thought. Was I alright? I didn't know the answer myself. I was stunned. Not ready to think yet. Reminded of the hurt and blame that I had spent so long running from. Being forced to face it was too much, too soon.

"What did you do?" Halt turned his attention to Edmund, smelling out my unconvincing lie like a hound. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. He narrowed his eyes at the prince as though expecting it to be his fault.

"Can I tell him?" Edmund asked me, concern etched all over his face. He had spent the whole ride back asking me if was alright and trying to do anything to make me feel better. It was endearing and I would thank him for being there for me later, when I could function. Although I had avoided such situations of hurt for the past four years, it was nice that now I could face them with Edmund by my side.

"Yes," I whispered quietly, thinking that I at least owed him a word. Edmund smiled with his lips tight and squeezed my hand gently. He walked away, slightly letting our hands slip apart, not breaking eye contact once.

"Look after her for a second," Edmund said to Wolf, patting his head fondly. Wolf let him, which surprised me. There would be a time where he would have nipped anyone who had even attempted such a gesture. He was warming up to Edmund, just as I had.

Edmund moved off a little while with Halt and I watched them, but only vaguely seeing them, my mind elsewhere. I had killed my grandmother. The thought haunted me. It was all my fault. I could see my father blaming me and inside I blamed myself as well. Maybe that's why I was even more compelled to leave. The house held many good memories of childhood but they had all easily been overruled. The house reminded me of death. Every step a reminder of my grandmother. The old lady who meant so much to me. The one who both me and my father would have given our lives for – gone. Physical pain was one thing, but emotional pain...that hurt like hell.

"Are you sure there's not something else?" Halt questioned Edmund.

Edmund ran his hand through his hair nervously. "I don't know. She didn't tell me and I didn't want to probe her. Maybe she'll talk to you?"

I felt my head turn sharply in their direction at the suggestion. I knew that Halt caught the movement with his hawk-like senses, and was probably unimpressed that Edmund was making suggestions in a voice loud enough for me to hear, but now that I knew, he decided to go with it.

"I'll try," Halt said, looking in my direction. I tried to smile but I don't think it worked; a hard line fixated itself on Halt's face. He strode over to me and I felt like backing down and turning away, but Wolf nudged me from behind, forcing me to stand my ground.

"I hate you," I muttered, relenting.

"No you don't," Wolf replied happily.

"Mon, you need to tell me what's wrong," Halt said, coming right out with it. I thought Rangers would be more indirect, but I already knew what Halt was up to, due to Edmund's blunder. There was no use skirting around it.

"Nothing," I lied. "I'm fine."

Halt inclined his head and motioned with his hand. "Let's walk."

I felt fear constrict my stomach. Knots tied themselves. Being forced to remember it was bad enough, but talking about it was more than I could handle. Yet I felt like I had to obey Halt. I knew that realistically I could run away and refuse to open my mouth and Halt would probably leave me be, but his gaze ensnared me. I felt my feet walking beside him on their own accord. My mind yelled for them to stop but it was too late.

Edmund stood on the spot as we walked off and Wolf padded away to join him. They were both leaving me alone with Halt and I didn't want him to get it out of me. I decided to keep my mouth shut. Or maybe I could lie about it. I could have other problems. My mind hurried to think of something. But I knew ultimately it would be no use. Halt could read my poker face with ease.

I turned to face Halt, expecting him to say something, but he stayed quiet, not breaking the silence. We stayed in the shadows the afternoon sun cast and I wondered when the attack on the factory would happen. I opened my mouth to ask Halt but then shut it. I wasn't going to speak first. A cook walked past, her clothes splattered with flour and her face red from the oven. She glanced in our direction but didn't see us. I had become as invisible as Halt.

My mind wandered. Maybe I could get over it myself. I thought of my grandmother and her smiling face. Her white hair pulled back into a bun and her faraway blue eyes. I always thought that they were thinking of her husband – my grandfather – as I knew that my grandmother loved him dearly. Losing him had aged her twenty years, or so my father said.

I remember peering over the edge of the bed to see her lying there, dying. Her face was ghostly pale and her skin had taken on a translucent hue. When her eyelids were open, her blue eyes rolled into the back of her head and scared the living daylights out of me. I knew she was just about dead but hoped and prayed for her to live. I wanted her to live so badly. I didn't want her death to be my fault.

"No, it's not your fault," she said quietly. "My time has come."

"It was all my fault, Grandmamma," I sniffled, and then felt my eyes widen as I realised that I had spoken aloud. I turned to face Halt, but could glean no expression within his cowl.

"You got it out of me," I groaned, folding my arms over my chest, annoyed but feeling pricks behind my eyes at the same time. I didn't want to cry. I tried to sniff back the tears. I couldn't cry. I had to stay strong. Rangers didn't cry. Not over trivial matters of the past.

"I didn't do anything," Halt pointed out.

"But it was my fault that my grandma died," I rambled on, the words coming out like water bursting out of a dam. Once one drop leaked out, the rest was sure to follow. "I spilt her medicine on the ground and after that she had no hope."

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Halt said quietly.

"It was, though! I was getting her medicine but it was on the top shelf. If only I was taller, or wasn't so clumsy, I wouldn't have knocked it over. Without her medicine she died and the apothecary was too far away to get some more. She lay there for a week, dying, because of me."

Halt listened attentively, never interrupting.

"You couldn't have done anything about it. You were very young," Halt insisted.

"Grandmamma!" I sobbed, burying my face in her skirt. "Your medicine is gone! It's all my fault!"

I shook my head, stubbornly refusing to listen to him. I could feel tears pricking behind my eyes as numbness melted away into pure, raw pain. I tried to blink them away, refusing to cry in front of Halt, but my tears were just as stubborn as me and ran down my face in streams as my heart wrenched.

"Monique. Get this in your head. It was not your fault," Halt said firmly.

"But everyone said it was. My mummy and daddy blamed me and I blame myself! You weren't there so you wouldn't know!"

"Did she blame you?" Halt asked quietly.

"No, it's not your fault," she said quietly. "My time has come."

The words played themselves over and over in my head until they were imprinted. No, my grandmother was wrong. It had been my fault. She just wasn't thinking right.

"I killed her," I sobbed. Halt stopped mid-step, pulling me into a small alcove.

"No, you didn't," Halt said so firmly that it was knocked into me. My eyes widened as I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand.

"No, it's not your fault," she said quietly. "My time has come." The words repeated themselves, refusing to go away.

"You need to stop blaming yourself and move on," Halt said gently. "She would want you to. And she'll always be with you. I'm sure she's looking down from above, smiling at you."

I blinked, Halt's words sparking recognition in my mind.

"I'll always be with you, Minny. Don't you forget that."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"She would want to," Halt said.

"She will always be with me," I agreed finally. I looked up to where my grandmamma told me heaven was. She would point up on a day that the sky was clear and say that my grandfather was up there. Remembering the sign she would do I copied it now; using my right hand to touch my forehead, then my heart before crossing over to my left shoulder and finally my right.

"Are you alright now?" Halt asked gently and I smiled, feeling free of everything. My grandmamma had never blamed me. She had forgiven me in an instant. Why had I been holding it against myself all these years? I didn't know, but now I could finally let go.

"Thank you, Halt," I said, looking down, embarrassed at my tears.

"No problem. I couldn't have you attacking a factory with such blame hanging over your head," Halt replied.

"I can't wait to become an apprentice Ranger! I can just imagine my grandma's reaction," I enthused as we headed back to Edmund and Wolf.

"For what reason did you say you and Edmund went off by yourselves again? It must have slipped my mind," Halt asked.

"I didn't say," I replied with a smile.

"A date?" Halt asked. I decided not to say anything so as not to incriminate myself. Yet the absence of any action on my behalf caused Halt to raise one eyebrow to the sky as his question was somewhat answered.

† † †

"So are you alright now?" Edmund asked for what must have been the tenth time – I was losing count.

I looked up at the sky, feeling my usual self return to me. "No, I think I need to cry again." Edmund stopped and immediately looked at me with such a concerned look that I wanted to hug him.

With a grin I quickly stopped any impending actions. "I'm joking, Edmund! Relax. I'm fine now!"

"Good," Edmund smiled back, running his hand through his hair in relief.

"If I was alright the past eighteen times, why would I not be now?" I teased.

"Firstly, I was just making sure, and secondly, I have not asked you eighteen times," Edmund countered.

"Wolf, what do you think?" I asked my dog.

"I think lover boy is very concerned for you," Wolf answered with a bark of amusement at the glare I gave him.

"He agrees with me," I lied.

"Well that proves something I've been wondering for a long time," Edmund said.

"What?"

"That dogs can't in fact count," Edmund answered.

Wolf barked indignantly and nipped at the bottom of Edmund's breeches. Edmund laughed and tried to move away without ripping the cloth.

"Wolf, careful, these breeches aren't mine," Edmund warned. "Otherwise I wouldn't care so much."

I laughed. "I don't think he cares either way."

We were seated on the wooden benches in the garrison, waiting for the arrival of two companies of the castle guard and most of the knights so that the plan for tonight could be explained to them. Halt was standing in a corner of the room, looking patient, but I could bet my saxe that he was tiring of the waiting game. He was just good enough to hide it. If only I could.

"Wolf!" Edmund complained as there was a tearing noise and the bottom of his breeches ripped, leaving the material jagged. Wolf barked in amusement, tossing the cloth in the air catching it between his teeth, shaking it violently. He went for another nip but Edmund anticipated the action and leapt up from his seat. Unfortunately, Wolf chose that moment to leap on his prey and they both fell over with a resounding bang, turning over the bench in front of us and landing on a heap on the floor. Edmund scrambled to get up, trying to regain his dignity, but so did Wolf, and they ended up in a tangle of limbs and paws.

I held my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh, but couldn't help it as peals of completely unladylike laughter burst out. I doubled over and could hear the chuckles of the few people who were in the room

"That dog did a number on the boy!"

Edmund and Wolf finally managed to disentangle themselves. Edmund hair was all mushed and his clothes creased. Wolf himself just bared his teeth, feeling humiliated.

"He looks like he's gone five rounds with a bear!" someone hooted.

I laughed. "Well, the dog is named Wolf!" The laughter only grew. I heard a snort as well, that sounded suspiciously like it came from Halt's direction. Edmund and Wolf on their part looked betrayed that I was making fun of them.

Edmund then grinned, seeing the humour in it. "I guess I could take on the title wolf fighter."

"More like wolf bait," I smirked back.

"Want to go for a walk?" Edmund asked, taking my hand and pulling me off my seat.

"You just want to get away from this laughter," I accused, pointing my finger in the middle of his chest.

"You know me too well," Edmund said back as he tried to smooth over his hair and adjust his clothes.

"Fine," I agreed as we left with Wolf trailing behind.

"That was humiliating," Edmund groaned.

"It was hilarious!" I said. "You two should be jongleurs and travel around the country. You would make a fortune!"

"Haha…no," Edmund replied and Wolf similarly disagreed to my suggestion.

"Your loss," I shrugged.

"Excuse me," a voice asked. "Has the meeting started yet?" We both turned to gaze upon the owner of the voice. It was a young man who looked a little younger and also shorter than Edmund. He wore chainmail with a yellow and maroon surcoat, different from the banner of Caraway fief, identifying him as a knight. His body was muscular and a sword sat at his right hip, revealing him to be left handed. He took off his helmet and shook his head of dark blonde curls before his face broke into an easy grin, accompanied by his smiling blue eyes.

"No, we're still waiting for people to arrive," Edmund answered politely.

"I haven't seen you here before. Are you new to Caraway?" the young man inquired.

"Just passing through," Edmund replied.

"Where are my manners? I'm Riley," he said, extending his left hand towards Edmund. Edmund went to shake it with his right hand and there was a moment of confusion.

"Sorry, I always do that," Riley apologised, putting forward his right hand this time as they shook hands firmly.

"Don't worry about it," Edmund smiled back. "I'm Prince Edmund." Riley looked alarmed and retrieved his hand quickly.

"Sorry, I didn't know." He bowed his head in deference as his tone changed to formal. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord."

"You shouldn't have told him you were a prince," I said as Edmund frowned.

"A bad habit," Edmund said, bemoaning his decision. "You don't have to bow. Please call me Edmund."

"Are you sure?" Riley asked warily, as if neglecting the title could lead to him being executed.

"Positive. In fact, if you don't, I think I'll set my dog on you," Edmund joked and Riley looked even more concerned.

"He's joking," I said as Riley finally relaxed and his grin came back.

"Forgive my manners. I'm Riley," he said putting forward his left hand.

"Monique Bowman," I answered as he looked intently into my eyes. I began to feel uncomfortable and looked away, pulling my hand back.

"And Wolf is my dog despite what Edmund says," I added.

"I am my own dog. I don't belong to anyone," Wolf snorted.

"So what is a prince doing out here?" Riley asked.

"Just on a simple mission," Edmund answered, trying to play it down as unimportant. It was a secret to but a handful of people in Araluen.

"Both of you?" Riley asked, looking shocked as the prospect. I gritted my teeth together to stop the angry retort that was on my lips. How dare he judge me? I bet that I could beat him in a fight any day. Actually I probably couldn't, but I bet I was better with my saxe.

"Mon is quite handy with the saxe of hers," Edmund said, bragging on my behalf. "You should see her! She could hit a bird in a tree!" We both knew that Edmund was laying it a bit thick but I let him boast, just to get back at Riley.

"Really? Wow, that's something!" Riley answered with his winning smile and I felt my anger towards him melt away. He was just so easy going and honest looking that I just couldn't stay mad at him.

"He's exaggerating," I said.

"I bet he's not. You're probably amazing," Riley said and I smiled at him.

Edmund took my hand. "She is. You should have seen my girlfriend on the mission."

I gave him a look. What was he doing? And then I realised with a start. By taking my hand and mentioning that I was his girlfriend, he was telling Riley to back off and not think anything along those lines. I had just thought Riley was being friendly, but apparently Edmund was going to mark his territory early on. I didn't know whether to protest—I was my own person after all—or smile adoringly. Wolf just barked in laughter.

"Did you injure your eyebrow on the mission?" Riley asked and I felt my hand reach up to touch it. I could feel the bump of the wound. How foolish of me. Of course if I could feel it everyone else could see it, and they probably all wondered how I had got such a nasty wound.

"Yeah. It hurt like hell," I answered.

"Looks pretty bad. Knife? Those gashes are the worst. Hopefully it won't scar," Riley said.

"Hopefully," I replied, but didn't really care too much.

"I think it's starting," Edmund said, indicating the armed men walking into the garrison. We hurried back inside and took our seats. Grant, the guard from yesterday, was standing at the front of the room with a map depicting the factory and surrounding streets. Baron Quinn was sitting to the side with a heavily bearded ginger and Halt remained in his inconspicuous corner.

"Is everyone here?" Grant asked, looking around. His fair hair was cut short and his beard neatly trimmed, I noticed, putting a face to the name.

"Yessur," one of the men replied. "All of company A and C."

"Good. I'll hand it over to Battlemaster Horan," Grant said, gesturing to the ginger who took his place beside the map.

"I thought Gilan's dad was the battlemaster of Caraway?" I whispered to Edmund.

"Officially, yes, but with his duties as the Commander of the Army, Caraway ended up with two battlemasters," Edmund explained.

"In addition to the Captain Grant of the Caraway Guard," Riley put in. "He's my father. Captain Grant, I mean."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued. I felt my gaze go back and forth between the two of them and I did notice the similarities – the square jaw and the blonde hair. I didn't move my head though, just my eyes.

"It was how I got into Battleschool so easily," Riley explained.

"And you were knighted?" Edmund asked.

"Quite recently. For my help with the bandits. I saved Baron Quinn's life," Riley said.

"That's impressive," I complimented and beside me saw Edmund's jaw tighten. What was wrong with him? I was just giving an innocent compliment!

"Boys," Wolf muttered. I concurred with a nod directed at Wolf.

"Not really. I was just as the right place at the right time," Riley objected.

"I'm sure," Edmund muttered quietly, but I picked it up and bit my lip to hide my grin.

"Our archers shall begin the assault by taking out the archers stationed on the factory roof. After three volleys the infantry and cavalry will charge forward and take out the thugs patrolling the factory. We have to be quick and make sure that most of the archers are dealt with, otherwise they will have easy clear shots at us from their elevated position. Ranger Halt will come in to assist with that. After we have overrun their guard our rammers will try to break open the front of the factory while Company A shall storm the factory through the side door. There will be more men on the inside, so always be ready for them," Battlemaster Horan explained in his deep booming voice. The men nodded, understanding what was expected of them.

Halt stepped out of the shadows and flipped back the cowl on his cloak, looking around at the men before him. "Remember, some of these men will be well trained foreigners and there are assassins among them, so watch your back."

The men muttered among themselves. This new information was interesting, but they were well trained fighters and it wouldn't deter them.

"Sounds simple enough," Riley commented.

"But if any assassins come out we are in for a world of pain," Edmund said, rubbing his neck subconsciously.

"What are we supposed to do?" I asked.

"Whatever Halt wants us to do. We're there because he doesn't completely trust anyone else," Edmund said.

I sighed. "I wish I had more than just my saxe."

"Maybe you could pick up some more knives from the armoury?" Edmund suggested.

"They wouldn't let me," I countered.

"I'm sure my father wouldn't mind, and I could always sneak some out for you," Riley put in. I thought it would be a good idea and agreed as the meeting came to an end. It was nearing six o'clock and the guard at the factory changed at eight so all the men began to quickly prepare for the impending attack. Riley fetched me five small knives in a pouch that fit neatly around my waist.

I tried them for weight and balance and threw one at a wooden panel, feeling the satisfaction when it thudded into the groove I had been aiming at.