Enderal I Lords and Mages
Chapter 9 Knight and his Squire
8th Era, 479 5th of Storm of Fire
Continent of Mordurel, Easterlands Region, North Crown River
Daemon Drakefyre Point of View
The road Sarah and I rode on led us over a hill and from the top of it we could see the Palace of Innocence, the castle of Lord Stallion. Gossiping peasants said the good lord had fathered half the children under thirteen in the Stallion lands. There was a rhyme I picked up in a village where I bought a new horse. The rhyme was about how many bastards Lord Stallion had fathered on the women in his lands, it said ‘How many bastards has Lord Stallion, a thousand and one, a thousand for him, one for his wife’, and the ,one, meant his legitimate son being a bastard sired by his cousin two times removed or something. I didn’t know if there was truth to it or just peasants telling lively tales.
The horse I bought was a Stouter named Minstrel that I used to ride on, sparing my brave Lightning, and so I would only ride her in tourneys and battles. Minstrel was a painted one of brown and white.
“Is it true that Lord Stallion has a thousand bastards milord?” Sarah asked, assuming I knew. there was also a childish interest in her voice.
“I doubt it,” I answered simply. My shifted my eyes to my Squire. “If you combine the five branches of the House you might get a thousand bastards combined.” I seriously doubted it, though, not even the Stallions produced THAT many bastards per generation. Well, perhaps the old Reiklander Lord Kingswood would get close.
From the top of the hill I spotted a caravan approaching from the forest edge ahead. I put my hand on my sword hilt. The scabbard was attached to the belt around my tunic. I saw three wagons and eight horse mounted men. I eased my grip, assuming it was a merchant caravan. The men on horseback appeared to have spears and round and kite shields and they wore chain mail coifs and hauberks. I assumed they wore Gambeson underneath.
“Ride to the side,” I told Sarah. “We’ll let them pass.”
“Okay milord.”
We rode to the side of the road and as we soon passed the two horsemen leading ahead of the first wagon. The other wagon came next, with a deep glare from one of the guards. I figured they were wandering knights hired as escort. The glaring man was old with grey hair underneath his coif and thick bushy eyebrows. Beside the man with the horse reins on the last wagon sat a short man in full plated armor of steel. He had a sword in its scabbard and a long shield of steel. If I wasn’t mistaken it was a Kyroshi designed shield, a Scutum I thought. I pondered where he had gotten his hands on it.
“Do you think we will reach the river before it gets dark?” Sarah asked.
“Aye, but we might stop at the Inn a night before crossing the bridge. I don’t know how long it is till we find one on the other side.” Like all bridges in the area it was owned by the Stallions. There was two main rivers and many smaller rivers crossing House Stallion’s lands and they took to their entrepreneur spirit generations ago and build fortified bridges, forbidding all peasantry ferry services along it, ensuring that everyone had to cross over one of their bridges. I had crossed through these lands before and the bridges had gatehouses blocking access to those that had not paid.
“Can we get nice food?” She sounded very hopeful.
“Off course. We have our stale bread and some old peas and hard salted beef,” I said sarcastically.
“I meant proper foods,” she said with serious disappointment.
“We’re running low on coin already. We spend a night at the Inn, pay our way cross the bridge and refill our pouch with some job. Than…we can eat fancy fresh food.” I kept my voice steady and firm.
I heard a disappointed sigh from her, but this was the reality of a wandering knight. At least if you didn’t have the renown. Someone like Sir Bryndon of Oldcastle, one of the most famous wandering knights in the Easterlands. I saw him ones, rallying House Mynderly levy in a village I passed through. But it was almost ten years ago.
We rode for a few more hours before we saw the North Crown River spread out in front of us. It cut off any access south and left only Stallion bridges. It took us only fifteen minutes to reach it and an inn by the side of it. The bridge was made out of stone and with large gatehouses and a central barrack built into the side of the bridge. The barrack was for the small garrison holding the bridge.
As Sarah and I rode our horses up to the stable belonging to the inn I saw a familiar face from the prince’s tourney.
“Hail, Sir Poe!” I caught his attention.
The slightly overweight man turned from his horse and smiled when he saw us.
“Ah, well, well. Hail to you fellow wanderer of steel. Sir Daemon, wasn’t it?”
“Correct.” I got off Minstrel and handed him to Sarah. “I did not think our paths would cross this soon again.”
“Neither did I. where are you headed?” He had a very friendly voice.
I looked to Sarah.
“Tend to the horses and put them in the stables.” She nodded and I turned back to Poe. “We are hoping to seek Lord Daven’s service. I know he was not at the tourney of his nephew.” Lord Daven was married to Princess Serene the Obsidian Knight.
“Indeed I noticed. Heading there myself,” Poe explained and gave his horse an apple. “Met three other men seeking his service too. I suppose you heard that a Herd of Fauns crossed the Shimmering River.”
I nodded, “Aye. They burned some villages I heard.”
“Only one according to the innkeeper. Says that Lord Daven’s men rode by, paid him to tell every passing wandering knight that they could see service in Davenport.” He looked to the entrance to the inn. “Shall we speak over a meal, eh?”
I gave Poe’s horses a look. Her had two Stouters, like Minstrel and Oldman, and a Warmblood. His Stouter was carrying three sacks each and one of them had a lance safely attached and a short spear with a broad steel point and a cross. If I wasn’t mistaken it was specifically to hunt Boar. What really caught my attention was a dragon tooth attached to a steel chain.
“Sure.”
We walked inside and I found it quite, with the innkeeper behind a counter and a drunk lordling on the verge of passing out. he had two women I figured were whores by his side. I then noticed he had a grey cloak, though, I couldn’t see the sigil on the back from where I was. He could be a Stallion lordling though. A son or bastard, might be. I thought I saw golden hair under the grey hood.
“Hail to you, sir,” the innkeeper said. It was an old man with greying thick hair and large hands. “What can I get ye?”
“A room with two beds and an ale,” I told him.
“Got lots of rooms free sir, and I’ll have that ale coming right up.”
“Get me an ale and a full meal,” said Poe.
Poe and I sat down by a table of solid greenwood.
“So…what made you do it?” Poe asked me, an almost intense look.
“Do, what?”
He smirked at me. “Hit the princess. Myna.”
I prevented myself from sighing. I should have known it would go there. I tapped my fingers against the table.
“I, was insulted and reacted,” I explained.
“And you hit a lady. Not just a lady, a princess.” There was a good amount of amusement in his voice. He shook his head.
“Maybe she struck a nerve, but clearly the gods proved me right since I won the trial by combat.” I was happy Sarah wasn’t there to hear that since I told her differently a month back.
Poe chuckled. “Perhaps. Next time you might lose your head though, and I doubt the Silverstags will ever hire you.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “But I’ll survive. Lots of lords in the Easterlands, worst comes to worst I go to Reikland or Middenland.”
A young barmaid that was barely flowered approached us. She couldn’t be more than eleven or twelve. The Innkeeper’s daughter I assumed. She took my mug of ale from her tray and placed it down in front of me and did the same with Poe.
“Thanks lass,” Poe said with a big charming smile.
She seemed to blush and curtsied.
“Here’s your meal milord,” she said quickly and gave him a plate with food. “Father said you deserved to taste the boar. It-it’s free.”
He had a big piece of spiced and buttered boar meat with peas, onions and mushrooms and mashed potatoes and two sausages. It looked very taste and watered my mouth.
“Thank you lass, give your father a thanks from me, will you,” Poe said.
The girl nodded and jogged into the kitchen where her father had disappeared into earlier. I tasted the ale. It was a good brew, tasty enough.
“Free boar, huh,” I stated.
“Reckon its fair since I caught the animal for them,” Poe told me, a big grin on his face. “You should try some of it.”
I raised a hand to decline.
“I need to save coin for crossing the bridge and supplies before we reach Davenport.”
He shrugged and ripped off a piece of the boar with his dagger and gobbled up a few mushrooms to accompany the meat in his mouth. We turned our heads when the door opened and three men walked in. They had Kettle Helms covering their heads. They had mail coif around their heads to offer extra protection to cover their ears, neck and only left the face exposed. They all wore Tabards in grey with two blue chevrons on and underneath they had Gambeson with Hauberks over. One of them was rather overweight with a large and thick blond mustache and a good sized blemish on his right cheek. He studied the room with his hard grey eyes and stopped on the young lordling.
“C-can I help you?” The little barmaid inquired in a shaking, albeit, polite tone.
The made waved her off dismissively and marched over to the drunk lordling with the other two men. Poe leaned over the table to me.
“Grey with blue chevrons, those are Stallion men,” he whispered.
I nodded that I had heard him as we both continued looking at the three armored men. They marched up to the lordlings table and the man that was apparently in charge gestured to the two lightly dressed whores to take off. they quickly obeyed.
“H-heyyyyy…w-what are you…doing?” The drunk lordling demanded. He tried standing up but sunk back down on the bench. He tried to say something but slurred to badly I couldn’t make out a single word.
“We’ve been sent to take you home to the Palace of Innocence. Wouldn’t want ye to miss the festivities,” he said in a strict voice. He looked at the two guards with him. “Take the boy.”
They pulled him to his feet and pulled his arms over their shoulders and all four walked out.
“Hmm, Guess Lord Stallion sent them to bring his son back,” summarized Poe.
“Aye,” I said under my breath. “What were those festivities?”
Poe shrugged.
“Lord Stallion’s fifth son is marrying tomorrow evening, celebrations start slowly on the morrow,” the innkeeper brought us up to speed. It confirmed my suspicion that the man was a Stallion, as, golden hair was a Stallion bloodline trait. “That be him, the boy. Gossip around the villages says he ain’t looking to marry and settled down, but his lord-father wants an alliance with House Sweetwater. Lord Sweetwater’s daughter came of age recently, was a nice big joust I hear. Three or four months ago now.”
“Aye, that was a good one,” Poe agreed, sipping from his mug. I looked at him. “Was there. Unhorses two knights sworn to Lord Sweetwater and Lord Pennyrose son, Sir Peter the Mild in the joust.” A very unfortunate nickname for a knight I thought. “Got unhorsed by Sir Anton Mayflower, remember him?”
“He unhorsed me in the joust at the Summer Hall Estate,” I remembered.
Poe chuckled loudly.
“Do you know anything else my good man?” He asked the Innkeeper.
He nodded, “The Sweetwater girl, lady named Ana. They say she’s sweet as honey and eighteen lordlings ask for her hand on that tourney. Lordly sons and barons alike. Even one of the piece of shit Flooding Counts. Though, I can think of something else along that title to call them. not sure how long this wedding we progress, I’ve heard that from several knights and lordlings passing here.”
“How’s that?” Poe inquired.
“You’ saw the boy and this is a good for him.” Poe sniggered at that. “If all the rumors are right Lord Sweetwater is a proud man, pious too. Two lordlings to me that he might break off the whole thing he the lad insults him, his House or his daughter.”
I arched my eyebrows, “Hmm. Who told you this?”
“Stallion lads and a baron lad who’s House serves them. you know…if you’re interested they will have a joust. Good feast too. A drunk lordling last week said there wouldn’t be a lot of noble visitors, just relatives of the two lords. Most preoccupied with the tourney held in the honor of Prince Rhaemon’s thirteenth birthday and there is so many ploughing lordlings named Stallion so not even the Stallion lords care for giving them all big weddings.” There was five branches of Stallions and with an unspoken tradition of fathering around a dozen legitimate sons and daughters each it meant a lot of intermarrying and a lot of weddings. The lord that was marrying off his son tomorrow was the primary lord and above the other four.
“How many bastards has Lord Stallion, a thousand and one,” Poe mumbled the rhyme as he filled his mouth with food.
“A thousand for him, one for his wife,” the Innkeeper finished the rhyme as be had started cleaning mugs with a rag.
On the morrow Sarah and I had a breakfast of a salted beef each with some peas and a potato. Sarah pleaded for some fresh mushrooms or bread or something but I refused to buy any foodstuffs at the inn. We needed coin and it would be an unnecessary waste at this time. The sun had risen just an hour past when we saddled up on Oldman and Minstrel and I held Lightning’s reins as she trailed a pace behind me on my left side, just between me and my squire. We set out in company of Sir Poe and his squire towards the bridge some hundred meters off.
I heard Sarah humming that rhyme about Lord Stallion’s bastards as we approached the bridge. The gatehouse was a structure of white stone carved from the Pennyrose’s mountains and transported far off to Stallion lands generations ago. The portcullis was closed and on top I saw half a dozen Men-at-Arms through the crenellations and ten men stood guard on our side of the steel portcullis. I spotted what appeared to be two Ballista on top the gatehouse. I assumed the other side also possessed two, in a world where dragons were real every lord had to properly defend his holdings, or give the appearance of it. such as placing a single Ballista in a village. He wore the same armor as the men last evening, even the Tabards. There was already a man there. A wandering knight and his squire. I noted the man’s golden tresses of hair. His squire was a boy of sixteen or seventeen with midnight black hair matted to his small scalp.
We halted in the face of the guards.
“Halt!” The Knight Sergeant told us. “If you can pay the toll, you can pass, if not…well, turn back.”
“Hail sir,” I spoke up. “We can pay your toll indeed. Pray tell, what is the price to cross?”
“Five coppers per person and a silver per horse,” the man told her in a hardened voice.
I napped my pouch off my belt and scoffed at the high price for the horses. I fished up six coppers for me and Sarah and two silvers and another ten coppers for our horses. I handed them to the man as the portcullis was raised for the golden haired man and his squire.
“Very good. You?” He looked to Poe.
“Why off course,” Poe said cheerfully and fished up enough coin to pay for himself and his squire.
“These can also pass,” the Knight Sergeant announced to his fellows.
As the Portcullis raised enough we rode under and onto the bridge. It was not made out of the same white stone from the Western Mountains. The bridge was made out of common grey stone. It was wide enough for five carriages to cross simultaneously. The bridge itself was perhaps forty or meters across. I noticed that Sarah was in awe over how large it was. She was an easily impressed sort, indeed. the portcullis on the opposite side opened for us as we approached and the men let us ride through.
“Aren’t you going the wrong way friend?” Poe asked the golden haired knight. “Your family’s festivities are the other way.”
The man turned his head and looked over his shoulder.
“That feast is not meant for the likes of me,” he answered plainly.
“A bastard than,” Poe concluded. “What is your name?”
“I am Sir Bennis Easterling, the Golden Bastard. You?” Noble bastards was given their people as as surname so the world would see them for what they were. As an Easterling House the Stallion bastards was called Easterling after the people.
“Sir Poe the Witty, this is my friend Sir Daemon Drakefyre,” he introduced us as we rode together.
We left the bridge behind us.
“Where are you headed?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“Not sure. Appermont, Stannerly, Whitecloak or Daven. One of the lords south,” he answered.
“Well, we’re gonna fight Fauns,” Sarah declared proudly.
“That’s enough from you,” I told her.
She didn’t say anything else, and sulked instead. That night my mind went back to the tourney at Summer Hall Estate. How I had slapped Princess Myna and slayed her champion in the trial by combat. I thought of Rhaemon and his mother Jhaenera. Gods, I remembered my dishonor nearly thirteen years past. I had never been a man able to settle down. I squired for one of Lord Kingswood’s many sons and was knighted by him. I was a member of the Red Rose knightly order, for a while. I left it to marry, to marry a princess. And so I married and got her with child, but my youth’s wandering nature made me fearful of the thought of settle down indefinitely, no matter how much I tried. So I did what angered everyone. The Silverstags and Drakefyres. Annulment.
8th Era, 479, 5th of Storm of Fire
Continent of Mordurel, Ostermark Region
Town of Ostpool, Shattershield Estate
Jaerys Shattershield Point of View
I doubted the Kyroshi ambassador had ever traveled this far north. Not into Border Princes lands for sure. Far away from his empire of gunpowder. We were in a private chamber. The the hallway outside was filled with lovely tapestries gifted to me. My lord father-in-law gifted them to me when I married Lady Kasumi, formerly of the Kyroshi Shimizu.
“This agreement will make us both rich, you can assure your Empress that,” I assured Archduke Shienyashi.
I looked into his violet eyes with my silver eyes. He was about a head taller than me. My eyes I earned from my Silverstag blood, cousin of the Red Queen and rightful heir to the throne. being a woman alone made her unfit, but unfortunately many lords had not seen that. The fools. I shared the Silverstag blonde hair as I did their eyes, though, I heard that Jhaenera broke the norm with eyes the color of blood and hair white as snow.
I drew a hand through my blond ruffled and loose hair. I gestured for Daisuke Shienyashi to sit. He dressed in the fancy silk of the Kyroshi people.
“Perhaps,” he answered.
Myself I wore a purple doublet with buttons replaced by red rubys. He was hesitant and had already declined my offer to buy muskets. He had been blunt in his refusal.
“But the empire isn’t convinced that trade with the Easterlands is worth the expense of arming you,” Daisuke told me.
I smiled, "Wouldn’t your empress prefer a friendly Easterland instead of a hostile one ready to fight you for colonies in the south of the continent?”
“The war with Easterland is over. We have what we want and do not desire another war. You will have no men, weapons or ships,” he told me plainly.
“Yet here you are,” I said, gesturing to him.
He smiled slightly, “Yet here I am,” he repeated to my annoyance. “Your father-in-law has an interest to see his daughter a queen. He grants you a lot of coin, and convinced her imperial highness to give you a loan. Two hundred thousand coins.”
“Of gold?” I hoped.
“In total,” was the answer, somewhat disappointed.
But I was happy to hear that they gave me such a large sum. That it was a loan meant that I had to be victorious or die. If I died fighting for my claim on the Easterlands my wife and sons both would be forced to repay the loan or flee, but this was my only way to play the game. To fight for my claim on the Red Queen’s throne and golden crown. I placed my hand on the Drakesbreath axe hung in my belt. It was from that weapon I had taken my House name. Shattershield.
8th Era, 479, 5th of Storm of Fire
Continent of Mordurel, Easterlands Region, Mede lands
Hedgedance Castle
Jeyne Pennyrose Point of View
The dining hall of House Mede was impressive in size, probably enough to comfortably fill three hundred people. The Silverstag´ dining hall in Culhaven wasn’t even this grand with walls covered with tapestries and statues lining the back wall and the ceiling painted with a thousand years of Mede history. Lords and ladies, battles, betrayals and glories. Peter and I sat to dine with the Lady Rycella Mede for what her Castellan promised to be a grand meal. I wasn’t sure if it was that, grand, and it was rather simple to me.
There was fresh bread and a few types of watered out wine, a meaty turkey with butter, onions, peas and a few slices of lemons. I shined up at the sight of a turkey. It wasn’t too easy to get a hold of in the Easterlands and it certainly looked tasty. There was a bowl with spiced chicken legs; which was an Easterland delicacy, three sorts of pie, those being apple, strawberry and cheese. There was a plate that held a nice selection of cheese, sweet potato roasted chicken and fried salmon oysters and roasted goat meat and two dozen boiled eggs. Nothing too special but a decent and good meal at least.
I admired the formality and strong presence that Rycella brought. At twelve she had a strong grip of nobility and she knew how to get what she wanted, how to interact at the higher echelons of society. She had a generally innocent look about her.
“Tell me Lady Pennyrose,” Rycella said as a servant poured her watered out wine. “How went the tourney in honor of Prince Rhaemon?”
“It was quite enjoyable,” I answered. My head turned to Peter that ate across from me. “Peter did quite well in the melee and he almost unhorsed a man twice his age in a joust.” I smiled encouragingly at him.
He looked up from putting a piece from the roasted goat on his plate.
“It went fine, though, I prefer reading actually,” he stated with a shrug.
“I see,” Rycella responded. She glanced between me and Peter. “How fairs Prince Rhaemon?”
I smirked slightly. She tried to play it simple and cool but I could tell she was curious hear about the boy she was betrothed with.
“I think he enjoyed it, but he regretted that you couldn’t make it I would imagine,” she said.
Rycella drank from her goblet.
“I was busy I’m afraid. Couldn’t be helped,” she quickly explained between gobbling the wine down.
“Off course,” I nodded. I decided to change subject. “Again, thank you for letting us spend the night.”
“Well,” Rycella said with a stoic voice. She put down the goblet. “I couldn’t have a noble woman stay at a simple inn. That’s unacceptable.”
“Oh most certainly not,” I agreed with a chuckle. “Can I ask you something Lady Rycella?”
She nodded as she bit into a chicken leg. I had taken a big piece from the turkey.
“You don’t even need to ask,” she told me plainly.
“Has it been decided when you will marry Prince Rhaemon?” I inquired, glancing at her with an inquisitive look.
She paused for a moment, “It will most likely be this summer, at some point. Naturally it would be absurd to marry before my thirteenth winter,” she answered in a very matter-of-fact way.
“Hmm, congratulations, I suppose,” Peter supposed.
I quickly glared at him. I spotted Rycella sending him a cold expression.
“If I may, I want to personally congratulate you on the behalf of my lord husband Penton and House Pennyrose,” I interjected quickly, a warm smile on my face. I caught her attention and she offered me a sweet smile. “You may yet be queen one day.”
“Rhaemon’s mom isn’t next in line,” Peter argued, food spat from the corners of his mouth.
“Princess Serene is infertile,” Rycella reminded him of the old rumor.
He look at me with a puzzled expression. He knew I had more knowledge then him.
“It is unlikely the Red Queen will have an heir that can’t have children,” I said. “I think Princess Jhaenera will be next in line, meaning Rhaemon will one day be king.” The queen wouldn’t accept an infertile heir.
8th Era, 479, 5th of Storm of Fire
Continent of Mordurel, Easterlands Region, Silverstag region
Capital of Culhaven, Castle of Silverhall
Jhaenera Silverstag Point of View
My little Daenys had eagerly screamed until the servant put the piece of apple pie on the plate, then, she finally silenced her excitement. She didn’t care for the boiled eggs, a pile of bacon, buttered and spiced pork or shell fish or anything served. She glanced at me for a moment, with the big eager eyes of a four year old before she literally dug into the pie with the ferocity of a Kyroshi lion.
My sons Daelin, Vaeylon and Rhaemon was more, adequate. Though Rhaemon seemed distance. I thought his mind was on their father, but I quickly pushed that theory out of my mind. There was no good reason why Rhaemon would miss him. He had a cold relationship with Laengos. So perhaps he thought about his betrothal to Lady Rycella Mede. Right now, my husband, Laengos, led a host of Silverstag bannermen to Sand Isle and the Moon Isles, to claim them for the Easterlands, for my mother. I snorted without realizing it. I caught Vaeylon’s eyes afterwards. I just shook my head and he went back to eating. I didn’t see the point of conquering those islands, prestige perhaps, but we didn’t need that now.
My children and I was joined by the Master of Ships, Lord Beowulf of House Oakenshield, father to my friend Dawn and Sir Ormond, my companion. He wore a brown green doublet.
“Mother, is grandma not coming?” Vaeylon inquired.
“She’s coming soon,” I answered.
My mother was supposed to be here, but she was late. I imagined she had some courtly business to deal with that took extra time. Yet, as I had answered my mother came through the dual doors into the private dining hall. She wore a blue dress today, long and puffy, and her red hair was as perfectly combed as ever. She had a deep red cloak that swirled behind her as she stalked over to be seated at the table. Lord Beowulf and I rose to our feet as she took as seat at the foot of the table, to the right of Rhaemon and left of Daelin.
“I am sorry for my late arrival,” mother excused herself.
“Oh, no need mother dear,” I said with a small smile. “I am sure you were busy.”
“I was,” she said. There was a smile on her face. She only smiled around her grandchildren, only they could make her smile these days. “In fact, I bring good news. Lord Hayshire has returned from the Kyroshi colonies on the continent.” I and Lord Beowulf listened with interest and Rhaemon seemed interested as well, but the others ate and Daelin and Vaeylon joked with each other. “A peace treaty has been signed with the Kyroshi.”
I sighed in relief, “That is a great relief mother.”
“Very much so, your highness,” Lord Beowulf concurred. “What terms have we agreed to?”
My mother’s smile was lost, “We surrender our colonies in the Red Forest region and west of the Triseccii lands. All our southern colonial holdings. Only Vorostmark across the Narrow Sea remains. It is a heavy cost, but our war coffers will be better for it.”
“As will our navy my queen,” Lord Beowulf offered positively. He sounded very supportive. “Not worrying about a Kyroshi fleet with men armed with those, bloody…muskets, is that the name?” I nodded.
“Aye then,” he started, looking at my mother. “I am sure some lords will used this as a tool for denounce you, but the people will be happy that their sons and fathers won’t go off to war in a faraway land.”
“Either way, we are left with a potential attack from the traitors of Reikland. Peace brings stability,” I added my two coins.
Mother drank from the goblet of wine filled by a servant.
“Indeed,” she said and smiled at Daenys. My daughter was still eagerly devouring the apple pie piece. She looked to Lord Beowulf. He had taken up my husband Laengos’s tasks while he was away, the Hands tasks. “Tell me my lord, has the situation with House Fayne and Sedgeton been solved?”
He swallowed down the beef in his mouth with a gulp of ale from the purple colored glass.
“It is finally put to rest,” he told her. “Some dozen men died in their quarry and I have seen to arrange a marriage between Baron Fayne’s third son and Baron Sedgeton’s eldest daughter. They will surely quarrel again in thirty years, but until they were is peace between them.”
“Very well done Lord Beowulf,” my mother complimented.
Houses Fayne and Sedgeton was Barons in our lands and sworn to us. I remembered that when I was younger my big sister Serene sat in on the Council numerous times, since one day she was expected to be queen of the Easterlands, she had told her on two occasions Serene had told her of quarrels between the two Barons. Growing up, she had learned the history of the barons sworn to them, and all the lordly Houses of course. Sedgeton and Fayne had hated each other for ten generations. They had married six times as they agreed to peace or was forced to peace by one of her ancestors. Their last battle had been two generations back, King Rheegar the Strong had refused to tolerate their rivals, after he had already thought to settle it. He had led a host of mounted knights and interrupted their battle by crushing both Barons small hosts.
“I don’t tolerate my vassals fighting each other, certainly not when we are under threat,” my mother, the Red Queen, proclaimed and consumed a part of the boiled egg on her plate.
“As it should be. Those two won’t rest their rivalry until one of them is dead, House and all gone and only remembered by history,” Lord Beowulf said.
“More! More! More!” Daenys burst out and captured my, my mother’s and the good lord’s attention. To my surprised she had finished the pie piece already and demanded more. “More pie!”
“Shush dearest child,” my mother told her.
Daenys grew silent and looked down at the table. She quickly forgot that though, as a serving girl refilled her plate with a new piece of pie. Her eyes grew wide and she ripped into the apple pie with the same ferocity. I drew my hand through Daenys’s silvery hair but with her interest on the pie she didn’t show any evidence of realizing that I was there.
Lord Beowulf smirked at Daenys´ antics.
“How is Dawn?” I asked him. “She is greatly missed around court.”
“Oh, she is quite well, plays her little spy games,” he answered. I smiled. It was well known amongst nobility in our kingdom that Dawn Oakenshield had the greatest spy network of any noble. If I was queen I’d have made her Spymaster on the council, but mother hadn’t. Lord Morrigan held that honor. A man I deeply distrusted, far too ambitious,
“She missed life at court, but she makes due,” Lord Beowulf continued. “In her last letter she tells me she is trying her hand at the religious turmoil.”
I peered at him from across the table.
“What turmoil?” I looked between my mother and him.
My mother met my gaze.
“The Paragon church is stalking across the line in the sand that in my peace. His holiness the Archbishop wants me to declare the Paragon faith the Only faith in the Easterlands,” she explained to me. “Yet the Healing Church is quite strong, the Nordlings we have civilized is allowed to worship the Jagged Warrior.” She paused to rub her forehead.
“Practically demands,” Lord Beowulf growled through gritted teeth.
I was astonished by all of this. On one point I hadn’t heard anything about this, one another point I was insulted that the Archbishop apparently thought himself high enough to demand anything of my mother, his queen. While I had worshipped the Paragon faith my whole life, and while the Archbishop was the head of the church the monarch arose from above him. This was an insult to my House as far as I saw it, and it angered me.
“With the Kyroshi war dealt with…” my mother said coolly. “…I shall now put extra attention on dealing with the religious turmoil, before it strikes all of our beloved Easterland.”
I couldn’t help but nod with anger. Rhaemon was the only one of my beloved children to pay attention, and he understood everything that we said. He was fourteen after all, almost a man grown. In one year he would be a man by law.
The dual doors to the private dining hall and a member of my mother’s Kingsguard entered. The Kingsguard wore the white plate armor with black gambeson underneath, an amethyst colored long cloak, a round helm with small black feathers on the top. He bowed stiffly. We only had ten Kingsguards in service so I easily recognized them on sight. Sir Derick of House Throolyn. He was from a family of a landed knights, yet he had proven himself to my mother’s years past.
“Court Bishop Caesar Jagon seeks you your majesty,” Sir Derick Throolyn announced.
“I am busy dining,” my mother said dismissively. “He can wait.”
“Forgive me your majesty, he is quite persistent,” Sir Derick Throolyn said.
My mother looked at him with hard eyes, “He. Will. Wait.” Her voice was ice.
Sir Derick bowed his head stiffly, “As you say my queen.” He rose straight and marched out, two male servants closed the dual doors as he did.
“Speak of the devil,” Lord Beowulf snorted. “Or at least his dog.”
I snickered.
“Mother,” Rhaemon spoke up.
“Yes?”
“What is Black Fever?”
I was taken aback by his question.
“Why would you ask that?”
He looked at me to my mother and back to me.
“Well…” we all stared at my eldest, which he realized. “…C-c-court Bishop Caesar Jagon-”
He stopped when I groaned.
“What did he tell you prince?” Lord Beowulf inquired.
“He…he said it came to punish the sinful, but he didn’t say what it was,” Rhaemon said. “I…I didn’t think it sounded…right.”
I forced myself to smile at my son. Daelin and Vaeylon was both paying attention now. Daenys focused on her pie.
“Good, because it isn’t,” I said. “Black Fever is a disease. It’s very dangerous.” I kept out that there was a possible epidemic ahead. “Just a disease.” There was a small outbreak in the town Penny Barrow, some dozen kilometers away. It was one of the closest towns to Culhaven.
“It has got nothing to do with sins, young prince,” Lord Beowulf stated.
“I have a task for you Jhaenera,” mother brought up.
“I hope I will perform it to your liking mother,” I answered.
She looked at me directly, “You will take a host or lords to the border of Middenland and prepare to annex our smaller southern kingdom. Arrangements have been made with House Charrayne. They will betrayed the Middenland king when battle is joined and you will crush the Middenland nobles and their united host, ensuring that they cannot rebel.”
I was stunned by the fact she was planning a new war. Didn’t we have enough problems already.
After the meal I sent off my children to the tutors, the boys to a Goodbrother and Daenys to learn some lady duties, learning poetry, courtly love, learn to sew and so on. Since she was four this was to come later, now it was to read and write. Whilst Daelin disliked the very concept of being tutored and oft ran from the chamber; Daenys loved learning new things. Every time she finished the days tutoring she eagerly told me everything she had learned, every day. Today the tutor had taught her a new letter and history about our House and she told me all about it afterwards.
“-and-and-and sh-she t-told me tha-that there was a q-queen named l-like me,” Daenys told me eagerly as I tucked her in under the sheets.
“Yeah,” I smiled. “Queen Daenys I.” She was so excited she tripped over her own words.
“S-she lived long a-ago an-and everyone loved her lots!”
Realizing she could go on forever I pressed a finger against her lips. She looked at my finger and giggled and gave my finger a kiss. I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“Goodnight my dear,” I said to her.
“Night night mama.”
I visited my sons bedchambers in turn. Daelin was already fast asleep so I left him with a kiss on his lips and found Vaeylon’s bedchamber. He laid in bed and groaned as an older nanny told him it was time to sleep. He held a book in his hands.
“Listen to her dear,” I said and walked in.
He grunted in annoyance and relented. I put the book in the bookshelf and told him goodnight. Rhaemon I did not visit as I had said goodnight in passing prior. It was all my fourteen year old demanded. He was a big boy and practically a man, all fourteen and even trained with a real sword in the courtyard with Silverhalls Master-at-Arms.
As I left for some evening hair in one of the terraces I was followed by one of the Kingsguards, as was proper. It was a man named Sir Willis Blackmont, a man approaching his forties. He was a noble of a Reikland House and during the Reikland rebellion he had remained loyal and kept his oath and he took his Kingsguard oath daily before my mother for a month. His amethyst cloak swirled in the wind.
I leaned on the oak carved balustrade and thought how beautiful the sky was with all the thousands of glimmering stars. It was a lovely and cloud free night. I was oft told by bishops and priests that the stars was the gods observing us, judging us. But that was the Paragon faithful, those faithful to the Healing Church claimed it was their ancestors watching over them. I may be a child of the Paragon faith, but I preferred the Healing Church’s explanation. If the gods truly observed us.
“Oh, father,” I sighed sadly. “I miss you.” I looked down at the small courtyard below the terrace.
I heard a clanking of steel behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find a second Kingsguard, Sir Torrylan of House Silverwood, though he had given up his titles and right to inherit when he joined the Kingsguard, as they all did. He exchanged a few words with Sir Willis Blackmont before the other left and left Sir Torrylan as my protector. A minute went by before Sir Torrylan came over to me with armor clanking with e very step. I turned around and smiled. His white armor had the same gold ornate and details as all Kingsguards and the black skirt hanging at the belt on his waist, covering front and rear but no cloth on the sides. The Kingsguard armor wasn’t as large and clunky as most heavy armors.
“Hello good sir knight,” I said.
He removed his helmet and let out his shoulder long obsidian hair. His beautiful hair was wavy and filled with curls and he smiled at me through his small well-trimmed beard. He was five years my elder, a handsome man of thirty-one.
“I would say we have a few minutes alone,” said Torrylan, a playful look on his face.
I smiled in delight and grabbed his gorget and pulled the tall knight down to my level and kissed him. He kissed me back with a hunger that equaled mine. We knew it was wrong, he was breaking his Kingsguard vows and I my marriage vows. Yet, I didn’t care. He didn’t care. Neither of us did. I craved for his touch, the feeling of his fair lips pressed against mine. I had done my wifely duties and produced several children. Besides, how many bastards had my husband fathered on lowborn women? Why shouldn’t I have my fun as well?
“I’m riding along the beach tomorrow,” I whispered as I pulled our lips apart for a moment. “Just south of Culhaven, a simple days ride to Gilded Flowerbed Estate.”
He kissed me hard before responding, “I’d love to guard you, to…” we kissed hungrily again. “…protect you.”
“I think…one Kingsguard will be enough so close to the capital…” I whispered. “Mother might object, but…the estate has Household guards.”
“I’m sure…her majesty won’t object…you are…very…convincing,” Torrylan whispered between kisses.
My marriage with my Lord Husband Laengos Carstein was political, as all marriage was. Unlike mother and father’s marriage there was no love. The children I bore was a duty, like my first marriage to the forsaken Drakefyre scum.
I gently pushed against Torrylan’s breastplate. I looked passed him.
“We’re all alone,” he assured me.
“For now,” I answered in a whisper. “Best end now my love.” Getting caught would be disastrous for both of us.
On the morrow I left my sweet sister Myna to keep an extra eye on my kids when I was gone, that was, whenever she could take her eyes away from Sir Mont Montelyn long enough. He was one of a dozen men that courted my sister, though, he was the only successful. My little trip had the usual company a woman of my status required. Three ladies-in-waiting, six Red Guards and a Kingsguard, Sir Torrylan Silverwood.
I rode a mere, an Ahdalusian she’d named Cursed Strider in her early teens. She had been her faithful mount for over a decade. She was a beautiful mere with a black coat, strong, swift and proud. Sir Torrylan rode a chestnut coated Warmblood. He rode on my right side along the road beside the beach. Soon it would turn into cliffs. My ladies-in-waiting stalked behind us with the six Red Guardsmen flanking our rear. I wore a red and yellow dress of velvet and a traveling cloak with the silvery stag of my House. A similar colored cloth covered my beautiful steed.769Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdRrCcgvTJK
