Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Year of Our Lord 1218

The Blackchurch Guild

T he sword came arcing down, barely missing its intended target.

Sinclair stood back, out of range, and grinned.

"That was an excellent move, my lord," he said. "I see you have been working with Fox, too."

Nikolai grinned in response, but he didn't let his guard down. His trainers over the years had taught him to never, ever let his guard down, even if he knew his opponent. When the stakes were high, it was never a good idea to relax in any way.

He'd learned that lesson well.

"The Protector has taught me a great deal about defense," he said. "But part of defense is a strong offense."

"That is true," Sinclair said. Suddenly, he charged Nikolai with a series of strikes, causing the young man to back away quickly, heavily on the defensive. When Sinclair had delivered six or seven heavy strikes that beat Nikolai back, he came to a halt. "And part of a good defense is not to let your opponent distract you with chatter."

Nikolai didn't like that at all. Sinclair had startled him by charging at him with a thrusting weapon. In the six years that Nikolai had been at Blackchurch, he'd grown quite tall—almost as tall as some of the trainers—and was filling out. His voice, as he became a man, was still rather odd-sounding. Sometimes, he honked like a goose. But his muscles were filling out, and he was coming to stink to high heaven when he'd been out working too long. Most men smelled, that was true, but Nikolai, as Tay so kindly put it, smelled as if he'd been dead for a week. Such were the perils of a boy growing into a man.

Poor Nikolai had to take a lot of teasing from men he greatly admired.

And from his sister's husband, whom he loved with all his heart.

Suddenly, he lunged at Sinclair, causing the man to take a few steps back, sword leveled, as Nikolai swung his sword with skill and strength.

"And part of a defense," he said, grunting with exertion, "is not allowing an opponent a moment to rest."

Sinclair wasn't really fighting him, simply keeping his sword leveled until Nikolai wore himself out. When the young man was finally so weary that he had to stop and breathe, Sinclair walked past him and slapped him on the back of the head.

"That is for being out of control," he said. "You exhausted yourself. If I was a true enemy, I would have cut your head off and thrown it in a stewpot by now."

Nikolai was breathing heavily as he watched Sinclair put his sword in a stand, one meant to keep the sharp weapons off the ground.

"When I am duke," he said, still breathing heavily, "I am going to bring my army and capture you. Then I am going to make you my slave."

Sinclair eyed him. "Good," he said. "I will not have to train spoiled little lords like you."

"Now I am going to make you my cook."

"I will poison you to death."

Nikolai didn't have a response for that one.

He grunted and stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow and noticing the approach of Tay and Athdara. They were coming up the slope from the village.

Nikolai pointed. "See?" he said. "Now you are in trouble. My army approaches."

As if on cue, three little boys came running out from behind Tay, screaming and playing, running straight for Nikolai and Sinclair.

Nikolai wagged a finger at Sinclair. "You may as well surrender now," he said. "When they get here, they will attack you."

Sinclair started laughing. He was removing his heavy gloves, alternately looking at what he was doing and watching the children as they ran toward him. Milo, Brendon, and Anton Munro were three of the most boyish boys he'd ever seen in his life. They lived and breathed warfare, training, and battle, even if they were only five, four, and two years of age, respectively.

That was all Tay's doing.

In truth, all of the trainers had contributed.

Milo had been the firstborn. A year after Tay and Athdara married, she gave birth to a dark-haired lad who looked a good deal like his father. Athdara joked that she would have never seen the child except for the fact that she needed to feed him once in a while, because Tay had the boy with him constantly. Wherever Tay went, Milo went.

Then came Brendon.

Then Anton.

The last two were towheaded boys, and had they not looked exactly like Tay in both features and spirit, he would have thought someone else had fathered them. He taunted Athdara about it so much that she finally lost her temper once and struck him, giving him a black eye that he was quite proud of. But he had three little boys who were never far from his side, and the Leviathan, whom men had so feared, turned into a big pile of mush when his children were around.

Truth be told, so did others at Blackchurch.

St. Denis was the worst. He volunteered to tutor the children from a very young age, teaching them to read and write and do their sums. In the baby's case, all he did was draw circles, but he could be surprisingly attentive at times.

Because of St. Denis' three pupils, most of the management of Blackchurch was turned over to St. Sebastian, who ran it better than his father ever had. Blackchurch took on more recruits, and, with Bowen becoming another fully fledged trainer known as the Titan, they were able to expand their operations.

Blackchurch was thriving.

And so were Tay and Athdara's children. They ran straight to Nikolai and tackled him. Nikolai went down, the victim of overexcited children, and then they ran at Sinclair, who held out a hand to them.

"Halt," he commanded. "Stand still, all of you."

Milo and Brendon obeyed. They were good lads, bright and obedient. But the baby, Anton, wasn't so inclined to stop until Brendon grabbed his little hand and yanked on him so he fell to his bum.

As Anton began to wail, Sinclair stood aside and pointed to the field behind him. "Run," he ordered them. "Run until I tell you to stop running."

Milo and Brendon took off, running only as children can—free and happy, running because they loved it, because they'd been told to. Running because they would never disobey their Uncle Sin, whom they were only allowed to call that when no one else was around.

Uncle Sin grinned as he watched them run off.

"What have you done to my baby?" Athdara said, bending over to pick Anton out of the dirt. "You are a wicked man, Sinclair."

As Sinclair snorted, Nikolai picked himself up off the ground and brushed the grass from his clothing as he headed toward his sister and her husband.

"What about me?" he said. "Will you not scold him on my behalf, too?"

Athdara cocked an eyebrow at him. "Nay," she said flatly as she cuddled grumpy Anton against her. "If anything, he is too easy on you."

Nikolai sneered at his sister, a woman who had also matured by leaps and bounds over the past six years. Three children and one husband later, she had veered away from the life of a warrior. Not that she couldn't fight, because she certainly still could, but her focus was more on her family, as it should be. She was dressing in fine clothing these days, lovely garments that her husband had made for her, and her long hair was braided and wrapped around her head like a halo. So much about her had changed.

Except her heart.

It was as big as ever.

"We have come for a reason, Niko," Tay said. "We have news for you."

"Oh?" Niko said, brushing grass from his hair. "What news?"

Tay glanced at his wife before continuing. "We have received a missive from the Comte de Roubaix," he said. "It came this afternoon. Abelard de Bottreaux brought it."

The jesting tone of the conversation took a serious turn. "The pirate?" Niko said. "Why would he bring a missive from Roubaix?"

Tay looked to his wife to answer this one, since it had all been her doing. "Because while you have been training, I have been making arrangements for the moment when you decide you will lead an army to Breda Castle," she said. "We have discussed this. Someday, the moment will come for you to act. You know that the country is suffering, Niko. It has ever since Atilla stole your birthright."

"I know," Niko said. "And I am sorry. But you know how I have felt—I could not go charging to Breda, even with Roubaix's army, if I could not participate. I do not want to linger at the rear while other men do my fighting for me. I want to fight on the front line."

Athdara knew that. The past six years had been spent waiting for him to grow up and become a man.

She went to him, putting a gentle hand on his arm as Anton tried to pull her hair. "I realize that," she said. "Had you gone charging in those years ago, you might not have been successful. We might have even lost you. But you are old enough now. You will be fifteen years of age soon, and Tay has said he will ride into battle with you when you reach that age. You have trained well, my darling. You are ready to go if you want to."

Niko twisted his lips pensively. He was seriously considering his sister's words. They'd spoken of the situation with Toxandria frequently over the years, so it was never far from their thoughts. It was what Niko was working toward every single day. Sometimes it seemed as if he'd been training forever.

He looked at Sinclair. "Do you think I am ready?" he asked.

Sinclair took the question seriously. He didn't really know what Athdara was thinking, but he knew what Tay was thinking because he had been told. Over the past six months, the subject had come up more and more, which was why the trainers worked with Nikolai when they weren't working with their own recruits.

Let the boy become a man, Tay had said. Sinclair had to agree.

"You have the heart of a lion," he said. "You are already an excellent swordsman. The rest will come with time. Are you ready? Only you can make that determination. But I would not feel uncomfortable letting you go into battle."

"Am I a Shadow Knight, then?" Niko asked.

Sinclair shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "But you will be, someday. I have every faith that you will mature into a magnificent one."

Nikolai's eyes lit up, and he looked to his sister, to Tay. "Do you hear?" he said. "Now, tell me what the missive says."

Athdara could see that her little brother was on the verge of becoming the great duke he was destined to be. They'd seen it when he was a child, and they saw it now—only now, Nikolai knew more. He was smarter and wiser and more skilled.

She handed Anton to Tay and went to her little brother, grasping his hands. "Roubaix said that they are ready when you are," she said. "He has been able to gain support from two neighboring lords, men who have seen the destitute of Toxandria come onto their lands and beg for help. It seems that Atilla no longer has enough men to try to conquer other lords, so he keeps to himself at Breda Castle and drives the duchy to ruin. Roubaix says he could not put up much of a fight if you were to move against him now. It is time, Niko."

Nikolai was having a difficult time keeping his excitement at bay. "And Abelard?" he said. "Why did the pirate bring the missive?"

"Because Lord Exmoor has asked his cousin to participate in the offensive," she said. "Roubaix and the other lords, if their hearts are not true, would be less inclined to try to keep Breda for themselves if Triton's Hellions are involved. Abelard can bring a thousand men with him to make sure Breda stays with you. And they can help you assemble an army to protect your duchy. They will be there to assist you, but you will have to reward them somehow. Whatever is left in the treasury, or mayhap something else of value. These men will deserve to be rewarded."

"And I shall." Nikolai nodded, thrilled with the realization that, finally, he was going to have the opportunity to regain his legacy. "I wish Father Joseph had lived to see this moment. He very much wanted to fight with me."

Athdara patted him on the back, knowing he was still grieving for the fiery priest who had passed away in his sleep last year. "I know," she said. "He would be very proud of you."

"Will you come with me, then?"

Athdara smiled sadly. "Alas, I cannot," she said. "I cannot leave my children behind, and in the late summer, I will have another, so I cannot travel. But Tay will go with you, as an advisor. He promised St. Denis that it would only be as an advisor. He will help you decide what's to be done and how to manage Toxandria so that it will flourish for years to come. He will set you on the path to rebuilding."

Nikolai wasn't so excited that he didn't realize what a great sacrifice his sister was making. She and Tay were devoted to one another, and the separation would surely be hard on them both.

"But… are you sure?" he said, holding her hands. "Tay will want to be here with you and the children. He will want to be here when his new baby is born."

Athdara was already tearing up. "I know," she said. "And I want him here. But helping you forge your new duchy… and our family's legacy… is important."

"I'll go."

The words came from Sinclair, standing several feet away. When Nikolai, Athdara, and Tay looked at him curiously, he stepped forward, taking Anton from Tay and giving the baby a gentle shake until he laughed. Then he looked at the three adults.

"I said I'll go," he said. "In the first place, His Grace Duke Nikolai needs me. He's proficient with a sword, but he'll be better with me around. In the second place, Tay… you do not want to be away from your wife and children."

Tay very much wanted to take him up on his unexpected offer, but he was hesitant. "This is my duty, Sin," he said. "I cannot let you assume my responsibility."

Sinclair put a big hand on Tay's arm. "We are a brotherhood here," he said pointedly. "Let your brother take care of the duke. Your place is with the duke's sister."

Tay almost refused him again, but he looked at Athdara first, who nodded in agreement with everything Sinclair was saying. She had tears in her eyes.

That made his decision for him.

"Very well," he said, grasping Sinclair's hand. "Thank you, Sin. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. But you'll have to deal with pirates."

"I've dealt with that bunch before."

"And fickle Flemish lords."

"Your children are more trouble than they are," Sinclair said, putting Anton on his feet. He got in behind the baby and said, "Run! Run with your brothers!"

The baby screamed and took off, toddling in the direction of his brothers, who were still running around in the field. Sinclair followed, jogging after the toddler, encouraging him to run for his life.

Athdara went to Tay, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest as they watched Sinclair whip their children into a running frenzy.

"Will Denis let him go?" she asked softly.

Tay nodded, watching Brendon fall flat on his face. "He will," he said. "We can cover for his absence, at least for a little while. Fox can teach swordplay for both offense and defense for a time. Creston or Cruz can fill in, if needed. As Sin said, we are brothers… and brothers take care of one another."

Athdara was quiet for a moment, watching as Nikolai suddenly ran past her, out to chase his nephews like Sinclair was doing.

She knew why.

"It will be one of the last times he has a chance to do something like that," she said. "He will return to Toxandria, and the next time he sees his nephews, they will probably be grown with families of their own."

Tay nodded, watching Nikolai fall in the grass as the boys jumped on him. "Mayhap," he said. Then he turned to his wife, gazing down into her beautiful face as he put a hand on her blossoming belly. "But they will remember him as the uncle who loved to play with them. And this child may not grow up with Niko, but he will grow up with several other uncles, of different sizes and birth origins, who will love him and play with him just the same. No one will be lonely at Blackchurch, least of all our children."

Athdara accepted his kiss, putting her hand over his as he rubbed her tummy. "Who knew the Blackchurch knights had such a side to them?"

"They're good men, all of them," Tay said. "And I'm proud to be one of them."

Athdara smiled up at him. "So am I, my Leviathan," she murmured. "So am I."

As the sun began to set and they could hear the screams of delight coming from their children, all Athdara could feel was gratitude. Gratitude that when she lost her family in a most violent and heartbreaking fashion, she found another one, unexpectedly, in the wilds of Devon. The Blackchurch Guild, where the trainers were more than associates. More than friends. More than brothers.

They were blood, through and through.

For Tay and Athdara, the adventure was only beginning.

* THE END *