The Dorston Fall [Book I in the Dorston Legacy]

Chapter 2 - Ransom

Katelyn and her mother stood side by side on the steps to the keep. Their people had gathered in the square in anticipation of the King's arrival. On the curtain walls and high turrets stood their home guard; their armour gleaming in the sun, their grey cloaks of honour flying around them heroically. Their swords strapped to their waists, ready and waiting. Their banners flew proudly in the rush of air. To her right, Katelyn heard the excited fanfare of drums and trumpets. She looked down to the delighted faces of her people, young and old. Children ran, played and danced, waving flags and laughing. Every face was lit up, cheeks red with joy.

Everything about today was electric. Her people, at long last, were happy. For since the day her father departed, a gloom has befallen the castle like a plague. Fathers, sons and brothers left home to accompany their King. Wives and mothers were left behind. Without the strength of a man, everyone had to pull their weight. The community came together, fighting for one another's survival. They worked harder, for longer; driving themselves to near exhaustion. Times had been hard and the war had cost them all dearly.

But now, the gloom and depression was gone, a memory. The people's joy was finally restored, and with it so was Katelyn's. It hurt to see her people suffering. When things were dire, she'd walked down to the outer town to give families baskets of food and water. She gave mothers balls of thread to repair their tired clothes. She even paid for a goat and gave it to a mother expecting her first child. Her acts of kindness gained her greater love and respect from her people. Katelyn was, for so many, a beacon of hope. Known for her beauty, determination and skill with a weapon, the people soon embraced her, in spite of her sex. They loved her, cherished her. And Katelyn loved them.

Then from the murmur of the crowd, came the pounding of racing hooves. Like dominos, the chorus of cheers followed the line of soldiers as they rode through the gatehouse into the bailey. Flags flapped franticly. Cries became roars. The band played louder when the first solider appeared, astride his white horse...his panicked face covered with blood and soot. Katelyn, to her horror watched as the rest of his company appeared; battle ridden and blood stained. There were bodies swung over the back of horses. The crowd, realising the commotion, quickly cleared out. Women screamed and mothers blinded their children with their hands. Despite her mother's protests, Katelyn ran down the steps to see the wounded. She looked franticly for her father, her uncle, anyone she knew.

"Where's the King?" she shouted angrily. A solider with fire hair dismounted his horse and approached her. Katelyn recognised him as her father's manservant, Thomas. She rushed to him; her hands holding his forearms. His face was wet with sweat and he smelled of...ash and forest.

"Where is he? Where's my father?" she pleaded. Thomas held her shoulders and levelled his face with hers; his eyes shining.

"My lady, please remain calm," he said softly. Her heart racing, Katelyn shook her head; fearing the worst. "Where is he? Tell me! Tell me now!"

"Katelyn," called a voice. She turned. It was her uncle, with his familiar tousled black hair and green eyes. His face was covered in sweat, and his armour was scratched and blood-spattered. His cheek was slashed and weeping red. She started towards him, her mouth about to explode with questions.

"Not here," Rowland warned her; gripping her arm tightly and pulling her through the crowd, back toward the steps.

Safely out of the commotion, Katelyn ran for her mother who was conversing with the man she now knew to be Lucas Elliott, one of her father's bodyguards. With ruffled blonde hair, he bowed and held out a scroll to his Queen. Agnes, recognising the seal immediately, snatched it up and tore it open.

"Where's the King?" demanded Katelyn, panting. Lucas remained silent, his head frozen in a bow. Amongst the fear and panic, there was anger. Katelyn started forward to strike him, to torture a confession out of him. Rowland acted quickly and restrained her; his arms wrapped around her waist, trapping her arms. She yelled and struggled. "Where's my father, you wretch?!"