The Dorston Fall [Book I in the Dorston Legacy]

Chapter 4 - Transformed

Night ascended the castle and the torches were lit. A warm glow stretched down every corridor and chamber. The home guard walked solemnly along the walls and circled the bailey continuously; inspecting every alleyway and ensuring everyone was home and safe. Agnes watched her guard from the balcony, grateful for their unwavering loyalty. In the five years they never doubted her, even when there was reason to. She hugged herself, remembering what a hardship it had been, conserving the kingdom in her husband's stead. Where she was once dedicated, she now excused herself from most meetings with her small council. It was tedious, listening to the same men hour after hour. They continuously went round in circles; their words of 'wisdom' and assurance growing tiresome. There was nothing to discuss but taxes, crime and poverty. They had no news about her husband or the war, news she wanted to hear more than anything.

At times, it was still much. She had spent many a restless nights, weeping and praying for the struggles to end, for the war to be won and to have her husband home. She knew she had to strong, for her people, for her daughter but no such strength came easily. That is until, she looked upon her daughter, the fighter. In times of doubt and weakness, she had only look to Katelyn and feel strong. It was clear to see the change in her, since her father's leaving for war. She had become disciplined. Agnes had watched her practice with her swords, maces and spears daily. She dueled with her trainers, with Nicholas or her uncle several times a day; getting better with every parry, block and attack. She'd mastered archery by the time she was eleven, there was no need to improve. Agnes smiled, caught in the proud moment.

"Mother," Katelyn called then, hidden in the shadows of the curtain. Agnes turned and her jaw fell. Slowly stepping out into the moonlight, she saw someone with her daughter's eyes and face. Katelyn was transformed. The girl she was, the Princess was dead and buried. She had become a vision of a warrior. With her father's sword in hand, Katelyn approached her mother slowly; feeling the most incredible strength in every step. Never had she felt so comfortable in her own skin, so empowered.

Agnes moved closer, staring at the strange girl before her. Katelyn's dark hair flowed free, pushed back by a thick black band. A grey tunic clung to her torso falling by her thighs like a skirt. Wrapped tightly around her waist was a black leather corset; the deep seams on show. Tied in a double knot around her waist was her holster; the scabbard waiting for its blade on her left side. Thick and dyed a forest green, she wore leggings; once more clinging to her statuesque body. Her brown leather boots climbed up her legs to her knee caps; secured by straps with golden buckles. On her forearms were oval shaped arm guards; silver and reflecting the moonlight.

Katelyn grinned, glad to have made her mother speechless. She slowly twirled on the spot. "What do you think?"

Agnes placed her hand on her heart."Oh Katelyn, you look incredible. I hardly recognise you."

"That's the idea," she replied with a smile; placing her sword in the scabbard. Her mother laughed, nervously; the sound vibrating within her throat. "Do you think the people will recognise me?" she asked.

"I should think not," Agnes assured, shaking her head as if to clear it. "You haven't been outside the castle walls since you were young. Unless they look closely, they should not."

"I won't let them near," Katelyn promised, determination clear in her tone. "What of the Justice?"

Agnes looked round hastily, suddenly afraid. She directed her daughter back into her chamber. "We must assume that the Justice has eyes and ears everywhere. I hate to think, even under guard, we have been watched these last few years. You must take every precaution to hide your identity."

Katelyn nodded, returning to her bed where her supplies lay in wait. At foot of her bed, lay open a leather saddlebag; full to the brim of spare clothing, maps and wrapped up food. Next to it, spread a dark green, velvet cloak.