I Know Not (The Story of Fox Crow) by James Daniel Ross Read Free Book Online

than others, but none seemed like people. None were quite real to me. Opportunities and threats…that was all.
          Thomorgon’s Gates, what kind of man am I? Theodemar chuckled and was about to speak when out of the pavilion to my left exited the noble lady. The guardsmen bowed, as did I, though a moment late and much more uncomfortably. I hoped she would take my stiffness as a result of the now healed belly wound, but I knew it was because the Fog rankled and made the motion jerky.
          A slight smile graced her heart–shaped face—that could be very good, or very bad. “My dear savior, I expect that your tale would be some entertainment while we prepare to move on to Carolaughan.”
          The guardsmen–as–servants took the hint and scrambled back to their work, though none found anything out of earshot that required their attention. Gelia exited the tent in which I had rested and entered the princesses own, exiting a moment later with a folding chair. “I am Aelia, daughter of Duke Robert Llewellyn. It would seem–“ her smile took on a cleaner edge– “I am in your debt master…?”
          The priestess put the chair down behind the princess, who sat upon it without looking. The display of noble efficiency made my teeth itch, though to say I knew why would be a lie. I cleared my throat, “I am truly not sure, milady. I…”
          Her eyes were the color of fresh heather, like a tranquil river for they too ran with a hidden strength. My mouth was open, and the truth began to emerge. She leaned forward, her slightly–too–big nose melding with the rest of her face’s perfection to put me at ease. She was not an elf, seemingly carved from marble by expert hands, and was all the more human for it. As I felt the story spill from me, her eyes twinkled knowingly. I suddenly felt exposed, like a man who stops with one foot carelessly hovering over a previously unseen abyss.
          Without causing a single eye to bat or muscle in my face to ripple, walls of steel and stone slammed shut within me. Immediately I began sifting the story, leaving out my dream at the pond, the Animal that had overtaken me in the woods, the way I almost did not help her, how her cleric had treated me, and my odd detachment from other people. Once again, she was a threat—and I had to grudgingly admit an opportunity.
          Her body was sheathed in silver velvet, trimmed in white rabbit fur. A cloak of heavy black wool with a rich platinum trim further armored her from the cold. Her jade earrings were simple and understated but worth more than their weight in gold. Only a yellowed cameo hung between the curvature of her thickly covered breasts, winking in a silver setting that subtly whispered of lineage and money. At last, I had finished “…It was then I heard your scream, and felt I had to come to help.”
          “You are mistaken my dear man, I would not scream and give the ruffians such satisfaction.” Her spine stiffened and her face bore a certain resolution reserved for the rich and ignorant. “It was Gelia who screamed in fear of my safety.”
          The cleric met my gaze, and her stern face clouded for a moment. Her pride was not injured by the revelation, but something about the account reached into her and twisted. She dismissed my story as a complete fabrication in mere seconds and her face became placid once again. Her mistress continued, “It is grave news you bring. The man you described could only be Sir Walden, Marshal of the Northern Ridge. He was adept at holding back the barbarians within the dark pines of those mountains. His death and the loss of his stronghold may prove disastrous. We must make haste to Carolaughan so the King and the surrounding nobles might be alerted.”
          Even though I was rankling at being called ‘young’ by a girl at least ten years my junior, I had time to be properly shocked. I had been wandering around alone on the