Page 1 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

“As you can see, the training yard is adequate though not fully stocked. We’re awaiting a shipment of weapons,” Fitzwilliam said.

Rystan scanned the yard, pleased by its size despite being encased entirely inside the inner bailey.

It was too risky to have the men, when they came, to train outside Blackwood’s walls.

The order of men that would soon be living and training in the yard was crucial to Matilda’s cause. They could not risk discovery.

“Come. Once we finish the tour, I’ve arranged supper with the other instructors and two of our beneficiaries. Our castellan should be arriving any day as well.”

Walking through the embattled keep, one neglected for many years that had undergone extensive renovations to prepare for the day the first recruits arrived, Rystan struggled to keep his composure. This was not just any assignment. The man beside him, Sir Adrian Fitzwilliam, was a legend among men.

“I witnessed your victory at the King’s Tourney.”

Fitzwilliam stopped, the hall being prepared for the evening meal as the two men spoke.

Staffed with servants sworn to secrecy, the keep’s great hall was the first, Fitzwilliam had told Rystan, to undergo renovations.

Freshly washed tapestries covered the stone walls telling the storied history of Castle Blackwood and its many owners throughout the years.

And now it belonged to the Guardians of the Sacred Oak, its walls prepared to stand witness to a change in the course of history.

“You must have been a boy of. . .”

“Ten and one. I will admit to having spoken your name so often afterward my father and brother forbid it from my lips.”

At the word ‘brother,’ his chest constricted. It mattered little that years had passed since his death. Rystan could see his face easily before him, as if he stood beside him.

“That was quite a day,” Fitzwilliam became as wistful as he’d seen him. In the years since, he’d claimed many jousting victories, his horsemanship among the best in the land. But he’d also seen many battles, and defeats, as had all who supported Empress Matilda against the king.

“Do you believe this will work?” Rystan asked him in a moment of candor.

Secretly training recruits believed to be the best knights and warriors in England who supported Matilda’s cause and then unleashing them against a sitting king and his forces? It was as mad a plan as any, but she was the rightful ruler.

“It must,” he said. “Conventional warfare has brought years of strife and death. The king may have larger numbers of men, but Matilda’s cunning in devising such a plan clearly conveys she’s not only the better leader, and the rightful one, but a resolve that we must employ.”

“A cause,” Rystan mused, “which has cost us dearly.”

Fitzwilliam eyed him carefully. “You more than most.”

“Nay,” Rystan said as servants skirted around them, their feet moving quickly over fresh rushes. “I’ve my life, which is more than many men who’ve fought Matilda’s battles.”

“An inheritance is not a trifle,” he replied. “Even if the choice was yours.”

“An inheritance, and a wife. It’s true duty makes you sacrifice more than your future. It can steal your past too. But the choice was my own.”

Not just any wife, but the woman I loved.

Fitzwilliam shook his head. “You should not have had to make it. We’re looking to recruit Roland De Vere.”

“Are you?” Rystan asked. He was also an earl’s son, and in line for his father’s title. He would find it difficult, if not impossible, to accept a role with the Guardians while fulfilling his duties at home.

“Indeed. We will speak of the other recruit possibilities on the morrow and look forward to your input. Although, I fear, none will quite measure up to the great Sir Rystan Vale.”

“With effusive praise, you want something from me, no doubt?”

Rystan had known his father’s friend and neighbor for many years even before he fostered with him when it came time for him to earn his spurs.

“Effusive?” he teased with a slap on the back. “Nay. You did, after all, learn from the best.”

That, Rystan could not argue.

We began to walk once more, Fitzwilliam finishing his tour of Castle Blackwood.

Charged with preparing the castle for the coming recruits, Rystan was pleased at the state of affairs having feared the worst when he’d received the assignment.

Though glad to be reunited with his mentor, and to serve in a role that would further Matilda’s cause, being in this region reminded him of home.

Of her.

“There is,” Fitzwilliam said as he left Rystan at his bedchamber door. “One request that, I will admit, I hesitate to ask. Please know, I was not privy to the decision until after it was made and the lady informed. Ashcroft can be a. . . determined and inflexible beneficiary.”

A bastard, more like. But without his coin, the Guardians of the Sacred Oak would not exist.

“Anything, old man.”

“I fear you will not be as agreeable when I share the identity of our new castellan.”