Plug up the Empty hole.

Nathan stood by his mother. His tears had stopped now. He had to be strong, for her sake.

But he didn't feel strong. He didn't feel anything. 
Nathan looked at his sister. She lay on the stone slab, in a plain white shift; that hid the cause of her death. The bruises on her neck and face could be still seen.

Nathan looked away. He pinched himself. It didn't help. He stared at the red mark on his arm.

I can't believe she's gone. Nathan couldn't believe it. He expected to feel something. Anger. Grief. Guilt. Sadness. Instead there was this empty void inside him.

"Mother do I have to stay? It's to painful." He excused the lie.

His mother nodded.  Nathan walked calmly out of the Temple, down to the Palace Gardens. He looked at his reflection in the fountain. He looked older. He looked sadder. But he didn't feel sad. He felt empty.

"Why?"

He felt hands on his neck. He turned round and was pulled into a rough kiss.

He enjoyed the warm feel for a moment, then spluttered and pulled away.

"What in Mithros' name were you doing?" he yelled.

"Well, excuse me!" Eliza looked like the cat that'd got the cream.

"Stay away from me. Go flirt with Brett or someone who'll fall for you." He knew his words were harsh and that they could get him in trouble with Lord Chappell.

But at the moment he didn't care. He just left.  

Brett watched his friend kiss Eliza. Nathan looked like he was enjoying it. Brett turned his head away. When he turned it back. Eliza stood there, and Nathan's long legs were carrying him away. Brett thought he should feel something. Anger. Jealousy. He felt nothing. He ran his hands through his floppy hair. 

There was still blood on them. Her blood. He thumped his hands on the wall, hard enough to hurt. Skin cracked. Nails splintered.  And he heard bone break. He wanted to get away. Breaking his hands wouldn't help. Brett strode off to the healers.

After that, he'd leave. Get far away from Tortall. Go to Maren.  The Roof of the world maybe.

Nathan was in his rooms. Packing. He couldn't stay. After the funeral he'd go. Scanra. Cathrak. Travel the world. Change his name, so no one would know who he was. So none would know he'd failed.


Sir Mark, his brother Baron Sir Steve, Sir Damien, Sir Shane and Sir Adam were talking to Lord Chappell.

"So you've chosen your squires?" The men, all over 20, were addressed as if they were a gang of naughty pages. Which they had been, only a few years ago.

"We Have" they chorused.

"Very well. Around the room, one at a time, no shouting."

Sir Steve went first. He was a quiet man, who was very discreet. "I request the page Michael of Cape Kasprowiz."

Sir Shane went next "Ricky of Ponting Place, please"

Sir Adam: "I'd like Brad of Haddin head"

Sir Damien: "Brett of Lake Lee"

"Very well. Sir Mark what's your choice?"
Mark drew a deep breath. He wasn't sure how everyone would react, although Shane would probably flip, "Nathan. Nathan of Bracken Point." He was right. Shane flipped. "Be reasonable! The boy's just lost a sister! He probably will want to stay with his family." Mark knew Shane was like Nathan's older Brother, as the boy had been born in second son, twelve years after the older brother had been born. But Nathan was the squire he'd been looking for. Calm, collected, excellent fighter, logical, strong. Mark tuned back in to what Sir Adam was saying.
 "On the contrary, Shane, Nathan would probably love the chance to get out of the palace. A couple of weeks in the fresh air, with no gossip or anything like that."

"Enough!  You can each have the squire you've asked for. I would ask though, that Mark, Adam and Damien refrain from asking the boys before the funeral." And that was that. Lord Chappell had spoken.

 The men filtered out in the hall, Steve coming to talk to his brother.

"Why'd you chose Nathan?" Steve kept his voice quiet, so that the pages passing couldn't hear him. 

"Why'd you chose Michael? You've only been here a couple of days."

"I chosen Michael because he exhibits the qualities I'm looking for." Steve had an innocent twinkle in his eye.

"Get away with you! Pull the spoon out of your arse and speak plain man!" Mark hated it when his brother spoke like that, all pompous and lord like. 

"Fine. I wanted Michael, because he's a good archer, horse rider and other fighting skills, which will be good, because we've been getting bandits. Also because his father was my knight master, so I feel I have a debt to repay. Now give me your reason."
Mark scowled. "I want Nathan to be my squire because he seems right. I know he's not that good at sword fighting yet, but he's got the potential.  And he's excellent at planning tactics and attacks and other things like that. There, satisfied?" Steve permitted himself a tiny grin, and ruffled his brother's hair.


Damien and Adam were behind Mark and Steve.

"So, what did you do with Andrew?" Damien's face became defensive, as if he didn't want to answer Adam's question. In reply Adam gave Damien his impression of their old History teacher, Sir Richard "Richie" of fief Benaud.

"It's important to answer a knights question. Oh, careful of that, oh! Super catch Damien!"

Damien laughed. "Oh, all right, I'll tell. I patched him up as good as I could and then gave him to the palace guard. Happy?" 

"You're too kind for your own good, Sir Damien of Fleming Forest"
"I'm only kind to make up for your malice, Sir Adam of Gilchrist Garden." Adam yelled his shock at that comment and chased his friend down the corridor, as they had done some many times when they were pages.

Nathan had finished packing his bags when he heard a crash. Expecting more trouble from Andrew he took his sword, SwiftSlayer, from its sheath and opened his door. He saw two knights wrestling.

"I'll get you Flemmo!"

"Oh really! Somehow I don't think that's going to happen, Mark!" Nathan walked up to the two knights and asked,

"Is there a problem?" The two knights stopped fighting.

"Yes! This pathetic excuse for a human being seems to think that Prince Roald will pick Lady Eliza of Callas for his wife. I say Lianne of...umm..." Mark trailed off.

"Princess Lianne of Maren." Nathan supplied.

"Yes…get off me, you oaf, I'm not some brainwashed court lady or anything…" Damien threw Mark off him. "So, Nathan, who do you think Roald will chose?"
Nathan smiled. It seemed these two knights hadn't grown up. " I think Mark's right. And anyway, Brett will be heartbroken if Eliza marries Roald."
"But Eliza's dowry's huger, she's prettier and she's not as argumentative as Lianne. Not that being argumentative is a bad thing." Damien dodged to move out of the way as Mark lunged at him. Nathan felt some feeling come back into his body. The two knights had the same sort of temper as Nicola. He smiled again. Seemed the gods were making him feel again.

"Woohoo…Nathan…Do you know where Brett is?" Damien was speaking to him. Nathan shook himself, and then shook his head, bitterly. It always came back to Brett. Damien was gone now, leaving Mark and Nathan.

"What's wrong? I mean I know what's wrong… but there's something else." Mark looked at the boy, full of curiosity.

"What's wrong? Nothing apart from the fact my sister's dead!" Mark showed frustration at hearing that. "Look, mate, I know. And I'm sorry. Nicola was a friend. But She's not the only one upsetting you, is she?"

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