Chapter 1

Today was the Samhain festival, which marked the darker half of the year—the beginning of winter. It was when cattle were brought back down from the summer pastures, grain dried, and livestock slaughtered and cured for the winter. To mark the day, a great festival was always held in Rutland, the Duchy of Montrose’s capital.

Tonight, bonfires would impart special protective and cleansing powers to get the duchy through the winter, or so the old ways held. In recent times, the people felt they’d become more enlightened in their beliefs. Over the years, the Church had eradicated many of the old views but tolerated traditional events like this.

The day also marked the liminal ritual, or rite of passage. Thomas Mycroft had just turned eighteen, making him a man. His father, the Duke of Montrose, would decide his fate as a third son.

Third sons were a problem for a hereditary peerage. They couldn’t inherit while the heir lived, which made them dangerous to the heir. In the Duchy of Montrose, the heir was the firstborn, Henry. The second son was traditionally sent to join the clergy, where he would renounce all rights to his inheritance. Philip had been sent to an abbey in Inglewood, but Thomas knew that he would be back today for the festival.

A third son was tricky. They could be used for political marriages or put into the military—usually somewhere far from home. The Duchy of Montrose had a proud tradition of producing rangers who were known for their woodcraft. Thomas was named for a famous ancestor who had been in the Royal Rangers nearly a hundred years ago.

Most third sons never survived childhood. They were susceptible to accidents or died in childbirth.

Thomas was different. His mother had been Lady Maria, sister to the Duke of Pekin. It had been a second marriage for Duke Charles, whose first wife had died in childbirth as she delivered Philip. The marriage to Lady Maria had been a political arrangement ordered by King Edward, Charles’s uncle.

Thomas’s uncle and aunt Duke Able Bourbon and Duchess Caroline had been unable to produce an heir. Thomas had been their heir until the Duke and Duchess of Pekin had a male child, which happily occurred when Thomas had turned five.

Shortly after his cousin was born, his mother had become concerned for Thomas’s safety. She talked the duke into sending him to a cabin in the woods to be raised by an old woman he would learn to love, Nana Millicent. It was hard for a boy that young to be taken from living in the family castle to such humble surroundings.

Even though he’d been banished from the duke’s residence and was not referred to in public, his father and mother would come to visit him on his birthday each year. Nana would have him dressed in court clothes that would magically appear, and he and his father would have a quiet talk. They would discuss plans for his education for the coming year.

It wasn’t until he was older that he began to understand that the duke was having him taught everything that was required to run an estate. Each year, he would be assigned to learn from different masters or tradesmen in the village nearby the cabin in the woods. Over the thirteen years he lived in the cabin, he worked as a farmer, tanner/leatherworker, carpenter, mason, blacksmith, groom, merchant, and bartender/brewer.

The last two may sound like odd jobs for his father to assign him to, but Duke Charles had nonobvious motives. While he worked with the merchant, Thomas had been instructed in how to run a business. Working for the bartender/brewer, he’d learned how to listen to people and find out important information.

There were three other skill sets his father had him work on while doing these apprenticeships. Roger, their huntsman, taught him woodcraft and the bow. Sword Master Nathan taught Thomas to fight, while Lady Dian educated him in reading, writing, and doing his sums. Nana Millicent wasn’t to be left out. She knew that if Thomas ever ended up at court, he would need political skills to survive. She taught him how to be a gentleman and about the world of court politics.

On his thirteenth birthday, his mother failed to arrive with his father. Thomas was told that she had fallen into the river and had drowned. Nana Millicent and the duke had spoken at length in private that trip. Thomas could tell they were worried about his safety.

When he talked to his father, he was informed it had been decided that Thomas would remain in the woods and train further with Huntsman Roger. Thomas didn’t see his father, or anyone from the castle, over the next four years. It was as if his father had forgotten about him.

Shortly after his thirteenth birthday, Lady Dian returned to the castle, and Nana Millicent took over his formal education, to Thomas’s great disappointment. None of the other children in the village his age could read or write. To add to what he considered wasted time, Nana Millicent began to teach him different languages.

Thomas was relieved that Sword Master Nathan still came to his cottage for a week each month to train him to use edged weapons. From him, Thomas and Nana Millicent would get news of what was happening outside their little area in the woods.

Duke Charles’s newest wife was Duchess Ann, who was currently with child. If she had a boy, the situation at court could get interesting. There were rumors that theirs was a loveless marriage and that the duchess had ambitions. Thomas was glad he had never been thrown into the snake pit of court politics. If the duchess could produce a son, her already formidable position in the duchy would be even stronger. There would still be only one heir, of course, that being Henry. But the wives in an arranged marriage had been known to scheme on behalf of their children before.

A week after his eighteenth birthday, Thomas was summoned to Rutland for the liminal ritual, where he would learn his fate. This was when the boys and girls his age would be selected by masters to become apprentices. If they were not chosen, the duke would assign them jobs.

Thomas had come a day early so he could get the lay of the land. Rutland had grown since he’d left thirteen years ago.

Roger had taught him how to be observant and to be prepared. Not that Thomas expected any danger, but he had been trained to be cautious since he didn’t know precisely what lay in store for him. Thomas had been out of the court and its politics for many years. Nana Millicent had trained him in what he might expect as a third son with a dual bloodline. Thomas’s hope was that his father would send him to his great-uncle, the King, to join his Royal Guard.

Sleeping in a pub had caused him to have a restless night. Finally, he had to get up to explore.

There were torches along the walls and on poles which gave off enough light to see in the early morning twilight. Rutland was alive with activity as people scurried to get ready for the Samhain festival. The noise jarred Thomas, who was used to the quiet of the forest.

People tried to talk over the noise as hooves clacked against cobblestones, nails were hammered as merchant stalls were erected, and an anvil was struck as the blacksmith began his day. Thomas let the activity wash over him. He only wanted to put the thoughts of the coming court intrigue out of his mind.

Throughout the week leading up to Samhain, there had been a tournament of arms. Thomas had wanted to join, but Nana Millicent had forbidden it. The finals would commence at first light to kick off the day’s festivities.

Thomas had staked out a location for the contest. There was an ancient oak tree on the edge of the practice yard where the tournament was being held. He found himself a sturdy branch he could sit on and have a prime view of the action.

The final contest was between Sword Master Nathan and a mercenary. The winner of the bout would earn a purse of twenty coins, which was a huge prize. By the crowd’s size, Thomas judged that almost the whole town had come to see the spectacle.

Thomas saw his father and two older brothers arrive and take seats upon a raised dais to signal that the bout would soon begin. From his perch, he heard his father give a short speech, and then the match started.

The two men extended their swords as they began to circle each other. With a mighty clash of steel, the battle commenced.

As the bout went on, he could see the exertion both combatants were putting forth. Even in the still-cool morning air of late fall, wearing armor was hot work. Each man began to tire, and perspiration dripped from their brows. Most sword fights ended quickly, but these two combatants were evenly matched.

The mercenary looked to be almost done. He wasn’t holding his form correctly anymore, and Thomas detected a slight quiver in his sword tip. It was only a matter of time until Nathan won.

Then the mercenary kicked Nathan in the knee, causing him to go down. This was considered terrible form, and Marshal Victor, responsible for the duchy’s protection, stopped the bout. Nathan was given a moment to collect himself, and when he said he could continue, the contest began anew.

The large audience that had gathered around the yard jeered the mercenary. Thomas knew Nathan was tough, and while he now had a slight limp, he prepared to face his opponent. When they met again in the center of the yard, it was as if the mercenary had been holding back. It quickly became apparent who the superior sword fighter was.

Thomas looked around the yard and noticed some men dressed in leather were cheering now. He smiled when he realized their ruse. A group of men had been planted in the crowd to take bets against the mercenary. They’d had their champion hold back to get the best odds possible. Once the wagers were placed, he was to show his actual skill and win the contest.

Thomas didn’t think the mercenary had ever crossed blades with the likes of Nathan before. He slipped down from his branch and found one of the new faces.

“Are you taking bets?” Thomas asked.

“Yes, lad, but as you can see, it has almost been decided. I would hate to take your money,” the mercenary’s cohort said.

“I think the Sword Master can still win. What odds will you give me?”

When Thomas showed him his coins, the mercenary gave him a gapped-tooth smile while his breath almost knocked Thomas down. They argued back and forth until Thomas relented and accepted eight-to-one odds for his ten-coin bet.

It was all the money he’d saved, but his gut told him Nathan would win. If Roger or Nana Millicent knew what he had just done, he would’ve been caned.

It was exhilarating to make such a wild gamble. Thomas noticed the Duke’s Guard had strategically placed themselves in the crowd. They were ensuring the mercenaries didn’t decide to run off if they lost their bets.

He joined the crowd to cheer on Nathan. His teacher used his sword as if it was an extension of his arm. He watched the sword master’s practiced ease that Thomas had witnessed countless times in their practice yard. Both men were putting on a show of skill that had the crowd gasping.

Thomas thought Nathan was done for several times, but he somehow managed to escape the traps the mercenary laid. Then, suddenly, it was over. Nathan made an unexpected move that could barely be followed, and the mercenary’s sword went flying from his hand. The mercenary dropped to his knees in surrender as Nathan put his blade to his throat.

The crowd quieted as all eyes turned to the raised platform where the duke and his sons sat. Duke Charles rose and indicated that Nathan was the winner.

“Well fought, Sir,” the mercenary said as he extended his hand in friendship.

Nathan grasped it and helped him up.

“The honor is mine,” Nathan responded.

Thomas’s father came down to congratulate the contestants. Thomas didn’t need to hear his father’s speech, so he found the man he’d made a bet with. He found him shaking his head as two of the Duke’s Guard were standing on either side of him. Thomas smiled at the guards, while the mercenary wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I take it you don’t have my eighty coins?”

The man shook his head ‘no’ in answer, now ashamed at what greed had done to him. The duke’s marshal, Victor, came over to see what the problem was. When he was told, he rounded up all the mercenaries and walked them to their camp. Thomas wasn’t the only one who was owed money.

By the time they got to where the mercenaries were camped, they’d all been gathered, including their champion, Ragnar. A crowd of winners was brought to their camp outside the city gates. They looked nervous when they heard the sum owed to Thomas since it was twice what was owed to everyone else combined.

Word had gotten around as to who he was, and as the duke’s son, it would be expected he would collect his winnings first. That would leave the other winners with nothing.

Thomas had met Victor on occasion. The marshal and Nathan were good friends, and Victor came with the sword master once or twice a year for a vacation of sorts. Victor liked to hunt, and Roger would accompany him while Nathan taught Thomas.

“Victor, a word, if you please,” Thomas said as he stepped away from the gathered crowd so he could have a private word with the marshal. “How much are their losses?”

“One-hundred-eight coins, and they only have thirty-two coins in their purse. You might get another thirty if you sold their horses and equipment, leaving them forty-six short,” Victor said as he scratched something in his beard. “We’ll either have to jail them until the funds can be raised or sell them as indentured servants if their families cannot come up with the money.”

Thomas thought about what his older brothers or father would do. They would take the coins, sell the mercenaries’ belongings, and then let them rot in jail. There had to be a better solution. For the men who had bet on the fight, a few coins could mean the difference between feeding their families during the winter or not. He directed Victor to pay off his father’s people. After that, he would talk to the mercenaries about their remaining debt to him.

When they were done, Thomas had four coins, all their equipment, and was still owed forty-six coins, assuming he could sell their horses and gear for the estimated thirty coins. Thomas was disappointed to find he was six coins poorer than when he started the day. While he now owned all their goods and equipment, he would still have to sell it.