Serenity Valley Page 3

  “I am fine, Gamel.” Sayer and Lord Goodwin looked tentatively at the colt with curious eyes, then Goodwin said, “It would seem, Gamel, that he has claimed you, and he wishes to protect you at all cost. What do you make of it, Sayer?”

  “Aye, he imprinted on the boy, who now belongs to him, and the rest is just pure instinctive aggression. I have never seen this much aggression in any colt. I fear we may have the makings of an outlaw here.”

  “True, Sayer, but the lad seems to be able to control him.”

  “Gamel, is there anyone else who can handle the colt besides you?” Sayer asked.

  I felt the sharp shock of fear charge through my body. Outlaws were put down to avoid damage to property and life because they often became insane murderers. “He seems to get on with Fulk fairly well, Marshal Sayer,” I responded, though I knew I was stretching the truth, if not outright lying.

  “Well, there may be some hope, then,” he said doubtfully.

  “Please, Sayer, he doesn’t know any better. I can work with him. He will not become an outlaw. He is the smartest horse I have ever seen, and he learns quickly!”

  “Calm down, Gamel. No decision has been made. The lord and I must discuss some things in private. Be calm. I will send for you later.”

  After Lord Goodwin and Sayer left, Fulk and I discussed the situation with the colt and what possible decision would be made regarding his future. We were not comfortable with anything we could imagine as possible results. Before long, the beautiful Basilea entered the stables carrying a large covered basket in one hand and drink jug in the other. “Sir Gamel, as you have yet to report to the kitchen for something to eat, I have brought it to you before you faint again,” she said.

  “You fainted?” Fulk asked.

  “I just got up too fast and lost my bearings for a time is all.”

  “Well, now that I think about it, you have been going for near two days without sleep and food. You should eat and rest,” he said.

  After Basilea looked in on the colt, we arranged some straw in front of his stall, and the three of us sat down together. Basilea spread out linen and plates, filled mugs with cider, laid out a loaf of bread, fresh fruit, and the most succulent roasted turkey legs to be eaten by man. I was starving but had to watch my manners in the presence of the fair lady. Still, in short order Fulk and I had devoured both of the turkey legs and most of the fruit and bread. Basilea nibbled on some fruit and drank cider while we gorged ourselves. I said, “Sorry to be such a pig, my princess, but it is just so wonderful a feast, and I am somewhat beyond hunger.”

  “I understand. I like to see hungry men eat.”

  “As always, most beautiful princess, your tolerance is only matched by the sunshine contained within each of your tender smiles.”

  With that rhetoric, Fulk choked and spit cider everywhere. All three of us started laughing. Fulk stopped now and then to cough. When he had regained his breath, he barked out, “Oh, good God, it even came out my nose. Is he always like this?”

  “Only since I have known him, Sir Fulk, since he was old enough to talk, that is.”

  “So the two of you have been here all of your life?”

  “I was born here, and Gamel was brought here as an orphan baby. My father fell on hard times after Mom died and secured a position for me here so I wouldn’t starve to death. I don’t know what happened to him after that. I never saw him again.” As Fulk and Basilea continued to talk, I leaned back against the stall wall, enjoying the warm spring breeze with my now pacified stomach and fell into a long overdue sleep.

  Aware that Gamel was asleep, Basilea continued to talk to Fulk. “You know, if he befriends you, you could have no better or loyal friend. Gamel has what I call an old soul with his own sense of right, wrong, duty, and honor. He does not judge people lightly or by what they allow others to see. Somehow, he can see through the walls that people put up in front of them, and knows what the person feels in their heart.”

  “You and Gamel are good friends, then?”

  “We are best of friends. My mothers say that we are bound to one another since childhood.”

  “Mothers? You have more than one?”

  “Oh, yes, the entire kitchen staff adopted me after Mom passed and Father left. Now I have many mothers.” Basilea told Fulk how Gamel had been placed in the care of the blacksmith as a baby. “The smith and his wife, barren of any children, saw to his needs and education as best they could until Lady Bella hired a teacher to educate the many children of the hold. We were five years when we met during daily lessons. Gamel was always in trouble, but he had a way with words even at an early age and could talk his way out of almost anything. When we were seven years old, the great fever came to the hold that claimed many lives. Some called it the pox. Among the many, Gamel’s stepparents were taken. I got the fever and developed the lung disease. I was very weak and not long for this world when Gamel found me in the tents used to hold the dead and dying before cremation. He carried me off to the smith’s quarters and cared for me day and night. He begged for poultices and herbs from the healer, but was refused as I was judged beyond all hope. He stole what he needed and followed his own way. I believe to this day that it was his own will that refused to allow me to die. I wanted to go. I had given up, you see.”

  “You mean to say that Gamel the Honest actually stole something?”

  “Do not be misled, Sir Fulk. There would be no limits to what Gamel may do for someone he loves!”

  “So you do love him, then?”

  “With all my heart. And he loves me, although he will not actually say it. It is easier to hide behind his silver-tongued rogue disguise.”

  It was near dusk when Fulk shook me awake.

  “Wake up, Gamel, the marshal has sent for you.”

  “Guess I dozed off for a bit. Did Basilea leave?”

  “She left some four hours ago; said she would be back with dinner.”

  “I must see to Siren’s preparations!”

  “I already took care of it, Gamel. I restored her body, and she was laid to rest in the rose garden with all respect. Now you must go.”

  “I need to see to the colt!”

  “I will see to the colt. He has gorged himself and now snores. Go!”

  “Thanks, Fulk. I’ll be off then.”

  “They want you at the main house.”

  I roused myself, brushed off my clothing, and started the trek to the main gate. Spring flowers were in bloom along the path leading from the stables to the great house. Vibrant colors, in yellow, blue, and reds, lined both sides of the roadway. All were painted in the fading light of early dusk. Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt to suck up to the kitchen ladies a little to ensure the continuance of most favored meals. Besides, I was in the mood for pies, and Ada, the pastry cook, made the most delicious pies. I quickly gathered three bouquets of wildflowers and twined them with stems. Upon reaching the kitchen, I entered through the side door and sneaked up on Ada, who was kneading out pie dough.

  “Lady Ada,” I said, “I saw these flowers, and they reminded me so of the rich blue of your shockingly, vibrant eyes that I just had to bring some to you.”

  “Ah, the lad of silver tongue. You wouldn’t be wantin' a pie now, would you, boy?”

  “I am hurt deeply, Lady Ada. I assure you, my intentions are purely honorable.”

  Ada smiled and walked over to a tray of cooling pies, wrapped one in linen, and handed it to me. “Here, boy, try this; blueberries picked just this morning.”

  “I thank you, dear lady. You are so kind.” I handed the blue flowers to Ada and moved to where Eva, the meat cook, worked over a side of beef. “Sweet Lady Eva, please accept this small token in appreciation for the most delicious turkey meal I have yet experienced.” Eva took the yellow bouquet, smiling.

  “I thank you, young rogue.”

  I found Basilea at her bread station, just removing a dozen fresh loaves of bread from the stone hearth oven. “Ah, Princess Basilea, these flower
s are for you. The red reminds me of the color of your cheeks in the crisp morning air.”

  Basilea smiled and accepted the red flowers, taking time to inhale their sweet fragrance. “Why, thank you, kind sir, but shouldn’t you be somewhere?” she asked. I looked at her with puzzlement on my face. “Do not look so shocked, sir. Nothing happens in the hold that is not soon known by the kitchen staff. Sometimes, we know of things even before they happen.” I just stood there, a little deflated. She said, “Go now. They await you in the study.”

  “I do not wish it, but I reluctantly take my leave.”

  Basilea smiled and turned back to her work.

  I walked through the kitchen to the great hall. The door to the library was on the other side of the hall. I felt the difference underfoot as I stepped from the rough stone floor of the kitchen to the smooth, polished marble of the great hall. Lady Bella had great pride in the new floor, and it was kept spotless. Unlike most hold halls, with their dirt or rough stone floors and suet-stained walls, she insisted the hall be kept pristine at all times. She was known to say that one should take pride in themselves and their surroundings, as it was an outward sign of a person’s character. I leaned up against the first great support column I came to and began to attack the blueberry pie I had been gifted. Halfway through my pie, I heard footsteps and talking heading my way. As the voices neared, I could make out that one of them was Lady Bella, talking to one of the house staff. She was inspecting the great tapestries that hung from the ceiling timbers of the hall. Some were to be taken down and cleaned the following day. Not wanting to be found out, I slid around to the opposite side of the huge column that had been a great tree in its former life. Not wanting to be caught eating a pie, I quickly stuffed the remainder in my mouth. Lady Bella had finished attending to the list of tapestries to be cleaned. Footsteps were heard fading away into the distance. Still chewing, I turned and walked around the column to make my way to the study. I was stunned to find Lady Bella standing directly in front of me with her hands on her waist. Despite my surprise, I couldn’t help but notice the lady’s beauty, with long black hair to her waist and yellow-gold eyes set in a perfectly sculpted face of olive-colored skin. She was said to be the daughter to a king of desert lands far to the south.

  “Ah, young rogue Gamel, what are you doing here? Why are you attempting to hide in my hall behind that post?”

  I must have turned a solid sheet of red with embarrassment. I opened my mouth to speak, but with my first word came a flutter of flaky pie crust. I quickly clasped my hand over my mouth to contain the escaping, treasonous material, and with huge, shock-filled eyes, stared back at Lady Bella’s golden gaze. She could stand it no more. She erupted in unrestrained laughter. I chewed and swallowed as quickly as I could, which seemed to entertain the lady even more. With a hard, dry swallow, I finally said, “I beg your forgiveness, my lady, but may I say that the evening sky brings out the brilliance in your eyes.”

  “Why, thank you, young master rogue, but I believe you have business in the study, do you not?”

  “My lady knows that I have been summoned?”

  Looking very serious, Lady Bella pierced me with her most disturbing eyes and said, “Gamel, I know all that goes on in house and hold. You have done yourself proud this day, and I am very pleased with you, in spite of you bribing pies from my kitchen staff.”

  “Oh, thank you, my lady, I mean, sorry, my lady, I mean—”

  Placing her hand on my shoulder, she said, “Go, Gamel, they wait for you now. I will come see the colt tomorrow.”

  With a smile and short bow, the lady scurried away.

  Making haste to the library door, I knocked, then entered. Sayer and Goodwin were bent over a large table in front of the great wall of scrolled records. I had spent many hours in this place, researching various bloodlines for Sayer. The wall is said to contain the records from the lord’s ancient relatives all the way back to the original Lithuanian, Spanish, and Persian bloodlines that stood as foundation for the horses bred today.

  “Gamel, please come here,” Goodwin said when he saw me. “We have some questions for you.”

  “Good evening, my lord, Marshal Sayer.”

  “First, how is the colt doing?” Goodwin asked.

  “Fine, my lord. He is gorged on milk and sleeps as a stuffed pig would.”

  “Good, good, we have something very important to ask you and I say, be not quick with your answer until you have heard all of it. You must consider everything.”

  Sayer took over at this point. “Gamel, there has only been one other colt with such a history of aggression in his bloodline that survived to a somewhat successful level. You are familiar with him. He is the stud colt’s sire, Hades. Although Hades has produced a most sought-after bloodline of charger, we carefully breed him with the most comely mares to contain the aggression.”

  “But, Marshal Sayer, Hades is a battle-proven warhorse himself. How can we say he was only slightly successful?”

  “Hades returned to us in a trade-out situation that saved his life. We thought him useful as a standing stud, but he was destined to be put down by his owners. Although he came through several campaigns where his aggression proved an ally, it is reported that he would become immersed in battle fever once the bloodletting started. He would dance on the edge of insanity without any control or hopes of reaching him. He became murderous and untrustworthy. After numerous injuries to allied forces, he was retired from battle and slated for execution.”

  “I had no idea, Marshal Sayer.”

  “Gamel, with the new colt, there is only one chance for success, and that relies on the bond that exists between you two,” Lord Goodwin said. “We hope that the bond is strong enough that you will be able to control him. We would never consider sending him to battle, where his aggressive instincts could become overpowering, but the hope is to use him to breed a whole new line of warhorse. Gamel, I took a very big risk with the match I made, but I was after a particular trait that could be produced from such a union. If you think size was the objective, you would be wrong. Both Hades and Siren have great size and bulk but are also constructed more affably to a distance racing horse than the bulky, blocky, stout chargers currently bred. This gives them quick and agile movement, as well as speed and endurance. Both Hades and Siren have one unique trait also: they both possess an ambling gait. As you know, horse and rider can cover up to twice the distance daily with the ambling gait. This trait did not pass to the offspring of Hades or Siren, no matter what combination was conjured. This is why I took such a risk in mating them with one another, in order to achieve a vision for the future.”

  “Thank you for confiding in me, my lord. It certainly answers a lot of questions I had.”

  “Gamel,” Sayer continued, “what we ask of you is that you become surrogate parent to the colt. Your primary responsibility will be to tend to him, train, and most important, control him. If you accept this task, the colt will be attached to you as a child would be. You would sleep, eat, and even see to your toilet with him always present, always underfoot. I expect the first year will be the hardest, but I will try to get a milk mother to relieve some of the feeding burden, not to mention a shortage of goat’s milk already exists after the first day. Well, what say you, Gamel? Are you up for the challenge?”

  “Lord Goodwin, Marshal Sayer, it would be a privilege if you would allow me this honorable duty.”

  Lord Goodwin and Sayer exchanged smiles and nods. Sayer said, “With that, Gamel, it is my pleasure to inform you that you are now ranked as Master of Horse. Do you have an assistant in mind to help you?”

  “Thank you very much, my lord. I will do my best. As far as an assistant, Fulk will do well.”

  Sayer’s mouth dropped open. “Fulk, the bully of the stable? I’m fed up with his attitude. I was going to assign him to one of the lookout positions in the most far-reaching pasture just to be rid of him!”

  “Fulk will be fine, Marshal. We have had a discussion, and
I think you will see a turn for the better with his attitude.”

  A tentative Sayer said, “Very well, if you are sure…done then!”

  Lord Goodwin spoke next. “Come here, Master Gamel. I want to show you something.” There, on the table, was an enormous scroll weighted down and filling the huge table. I recognized that it was a bloodline, many of the names of sire and dam familiar to me. At the bottom of the tree were Hades and Siren’s names, with a line down to a new name. It read Demon de Sirates. I was pleased to find Siren honored by leading the last name, which was a combination of sire and dam names. “This will hopefully be the beginning of the new Sirates bloodline, young Master Gamel,” Goodwin told me.

  I replied, “My lord, that is a fine name, but how did you decide on the name Demon?”

  “You named the colt yourself when you stopped him from attacking us in the stall today. You called him Demon, which is what one gets when crossing a Siren with Hades.” We all had a little laugh about the name, then Lord Goodwin’s mood turned somber. “Young Master, there are things that I do not tell you or other folks of the hold. Troubled times are on the horizon, and you will see many changes at the hold within the next several years. Within five to six years, I expect our home to be under banner of war. I have secured additional lands and will be expanding the warhorse breeding program, as well as increasing hold security. When hostility begins, the enemy will come to steal our prized horses and sack the hold. I have a six-year contract with the king for nearly every horse I can supply to his knights. I will be traveling much this next year in order to secure breeding stock to supplement our own lines. Changing times are upon us. We must bend with the wind as a willow or we will surely break.” As if waking from a troubled nightmare, the lord looked up and smiled. “Well, all we can do is plan for the future, gentlemen. There is no time to fret over troubles that are not upon us, eh?” I thought that rather ominous at best. As if by telepathy, Lady Bella entered the room carrying a large tray containing a wine decanter and glasses. “My wife always seems to know everything that goes on here. As if by miracle, she just appears from thin air, with precise timing and prepared for the occasion.” Lady Bella looked at me and gave a quick wink that couldn’t have been seen by anyone else. A chill went up my spine that I couldn’t explain. There was something unnatural about her, dark and mysterious, and I sensed danger for no apparent reason.