tavern.
Kendrick nodded toward the door. He and Duncan followed the man out of the tavern.
“Frayne,” Kendrick called after the man, who was but a few paces away. He turned around, looking puzzled.
“I am Kendrick. This is Duncan. May we talk with you for a moment?”
“Will you mock me as well?”
“No,” Kendrick said, “we want to learn from you.” They closed the distance to him with just a few steps.
Frayne waited. He was a middle-aged man with a solid frame. Though his physique looked strong and healthy, grief etched his face and made him look old before his time.
“Please tell us what happened to your son,” Duncan said.
“Why do you want to know?”
Kendrick looked at Duncan and then back at the man. “We have reason to suspect that Bel Lione may be the source of some disturbing … activity.”
Frayne stared at them for a moment. “Come to my shop when you’ve finished your meal.” He pointed to a tailor shop up the way. “We’ll talk there.”
When Kendrick and Duncan stepped inside the tailor shop a short time later, they were greeted by a voice that matched the feminine beauty of its owner.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” The young woman stood up from a worktable full of fabric. A dress form beside her displayed a partially completed gown, and a variety of shirts, gowns, doublets, and trousers of many different colors and styles hung about the shop. The whole establishment looked prosperous and successful.
The girl looked from Duncan to Kendrick, then back to Duncan. Kendrick smiled to himself. He felt the awkward exchange that happened between Duncan and the lass. He didn’t need to look at his young companion to know Duncan was entranced. He couldn’t blame his young friend, for the lass was comely indeed.
Her hair was sandy blond and parted to one side. A few tousles partly covered one of her eyes, which sparkled bright blue in the afternoonsun. A warm and gentle smile graced her perfect complexion. The line of her cheekbone was strong. Kendrick was mesmerized for a brief moment, for she bore an uncanny resemblance to his wife. He smiled at her through the ache of his heart.
“Frayne invited us to speak with him. Is he—?”
“I am here.” Frayne spoke from a doorway that led to the back room. “Please join me.”
Kendrick and Duncan nodded toward the young woman and followed Frayne into a small room stuffed with more fabric, thread, and a plethora of stitching tools. He walked to the center of the crowded workroom, leaned back against a table, and began to stroke his chin in mild agitation.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“We are Knights of the Prince,” Kendrick replied, “and we journey here from Chessington.”
The man’s face registered suspicion and hope. “Why are you interested in what happened to my son?”
“Sir, you can rest assured that we mean you no harm,” Duncan said. “We are on a mission to discover the origins of a secret order of knights created to fight against the King and His Son. Our investigation has led us to Bel Lione.”
“In the short time that we have been here,” Kendrick added, “we’ve heard of something called the festival.”
“I know nothing about a secret order of knights, but I can certainly tell you about the festival.” Frayne shook his head. “It’s held once a month at the castle, and it’s only for the youth of the region. Once lads and lasses turn twenty-one, they are no longer allowed to attend.”
“That is quite odd.” Kendrick stroked his beard. “What is the purpose of the festival?”
Frayne snorted in disgust. “Lord Ra says it’s for them to enjoy life, to—”
“Lord Ra?” Kendrick interrupted. He looked at Duncan and knew that he too had connected the engraving on Casimir’s medallion to Frayne’s story.
Frayne stopped and looked quizzically at him. “Yes, Lord Ra of the grand castle. He is the one who hosts the festivals as well as a weekly fete. You’ve not heard of Lord
Kendrick nodded toward the door. He and Duncan followed the man out of the tavern.
“Frayne,” Kendrick called after the man, who was but a few paces away. He turned around, looking puzzled.
“I am Kendrick. This is Duncan. May we talk with you for a moment?”
“Will you mock me as well?”
“No,” Kendrick said, “we want to learn from you.” They closed the distance to him with just a few steps.
Frayne waited. He was a middle-aged man with a solid frame. Though his physique looked strong and healthy, grief etched his face and made him look old before his time.
“Please tell us what happened to your son,” Duncan said.
“Why do you want to know?”
Kendrick looked at Duncan and then back at the man. “We have reason to suspect that Bel Lione may be the source of some disturbing … activity.”
Frayne stared at them for a moment. “Come to my shop when you’ve finished your meal.” He pointed to a tailor shop up the way. “We’ll talk there.”
When Kendrick and Duncan stepped inside the tailor shop a short time later, they were greeted by a voice that matched the feminine beauty of its owner.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” The young woman stood up from a worktable full of fabric. A dress form beside her displayed a partially completed gown, and a variety of shirts, gowns, doublets, and trousers of many different colors and styles hung about the shop. The whole establishment looked prosperous and successful.
The girl looked from Duncan to Kendrick, then back to Duncan. Kendrick smiled to himself. He felt the awkward exchange that happened between Duncan and the lass. He didn’t need to look at his young companion to know Duncan was entranced. He couldn’t blame his young friend, for the lass was comely indeed.
Her hair was sandy blond and parted to one side. A few tousles partly covered one of her eyes, which sparkled bright blue in the afternoonsun. A warm and gentle smile graced her perfect complexion. The line of her cheekbone was strong. Kendrick was mesmerized for a brief moment, for she bore an uncanny resemblance to his wife. He smiled at her through the ache of his heart.
“Frayne invited us to speak with him. Is he—?”
“I am here.” Frayne spoke from a doorway that led to the back room. “Please join me.”
Kendrick and Duncan nodded toward the young woman and followed Frayne into a small room stuffed with more fabric, thread, and a plethora of stitching tools. He walked to the center of the crowded workroom, leaned back against a table, and began to stroke his chin in mild agitation.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“We are Knights of the Prince,” Kendrick replied, “and we journey here from Chessington.”
The man’s face registered suspicion and hope. “Why are you interested in what happened to my son?”
“Sir, you can rest assured that we mean you no harm,” Duncan said. “We are on a mission to discover the origins of a secret order of knights created to fight against the King and His Son. Our investigation has led us to Bel Lione.”
“In the short time that we have been here,” Kendrick added, “we’ve heard of something called the festival.”
“I know nothing about a secret order of knights, but I can certainly tell you about the festival.” Frayne shook his head. “It’s held once a month at the castle, and it’s only for the youth of the region. Once lads and lasses turn twenty-one, they are no longer allowed to attend.”
“That is quite odd.” Kendrick stroked his beard. “What is the purpose of the festival?”
Frayne snorted in disgust. “Lord Ra says it’s for them to enjoy life, to—”
“Lord Ra?” Kendrick interrupted. He looked at Duncan and knew that he too had connected the engraving on Casimir’s medallion to Frayne’s story.
Frayne stopped and looked quizzically at him. “Yes, Lord Ra of the grand castle. He is the one who hosts the festivals as well as a weekly fete. You’ve not heard of Lord
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