Fire and Thorn

by Mary Vee

  Gilbert opened his eyes.

  “Drink this.” Bartholomew the healer held out a cup to him.

  “What is it?” Gilbert smelled the potion. It smelled like burnt seaweed.

  “Be still, Prince. You became ill in route to the ceremony. The Lord Chancellor ordered guards to bring you here.” Bartholomew the healer pressed the cup closer to Gilbert. “Drink. It will make you feel better.”

  Matthias entered the room. “My lord, how are you faring?”

  Gilbert sat up and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Terrible.”

  Matthias turned to a guard. “Call the taste tester and the attendants who were here earlier.”

  Katia rose. “Lord Chancellor, I can call the attendants, but the royal taste tester left moments ago. We gave him the same potion and herbs for his stomach as we did the Prince.”

  Gilbert bent over the bowl. His stomach lurched, spilling everything he’d eaten. “The food was poisoned?”

  “Let’s just say I had a gut feeling when you blacked out.” Matthias dragged a chair next to the prince’s bed. “I told the citizens that the coronation would take place tomorrow.”

  Gilbert swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The movement hurt his head. “I need to tell you about a plot against our kingdom. The intelligence came to my attention this morning.”

  Matthias raised one eyebrow. “Out on your walk, I presume?”

  “Well, I…yes, out on my walk.”

  “Then I think the tainted food was only a message,” Matthias said. “If the goal was to oust you, the villains would have succeeded.”

  Chapter Nine

  The medicine worked after a little while, calming Gilbert's stomach. He drank some water and was pleased it stayed down. “Matthias, I’ve been thinking about the dragon invasion, my father’s death, and the food poisoning.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Since you were my father’s advisor, you must have thoughts about who is doing this.”

  “I have my suspicions.” Matthias patted Gilbert on the shoulder. “For now, you should rest.” He turned to Bartholomew the healer. “We need him well for tomorrow. Keep an eye on him.”

  The healer stood then bowed. “Yes, Lord Chancellor.”

  Once Matthias left the room, Bartholomew the healer took herbs and put them in a mortar, crushed them with a pestle, and added water. He set the mixture over the flames, stirred it again then served the potion. Katia stoked the fire and brought new warmth to the room.

  The soothing drink and warmth from the fire eased Gilbert into a deep sleep where he found himself in a forest dream world. He felt no pain. A raincloud quickly darkened the sky. Droplets of water soon changed to sheets of rain falling through the leaves and soaking his clothes. Between the forest trees was a small log house. He hurried to the dwelling hoping for shelter. A young woman stood outside, stirring a steaming pot.

  He waved to get her attention. “Good day.”

  A small boy and girl dressed in tattered clothes ran from the house and hugged the woman. “Don’t be afraid, children,” she said. “This is the prince.”

  Puzzled, Gilbert asked, “How do you know me?”

  She laughed. “Everyone from the kingdom knows you. Would you like some stew?” She lowered her head as if ashamed. “It’s all we have.” She gave the pot another stir.

  Gilbert realized his stomach didn’t hurt in this place. In fact, he felt hungry. He couldn’t tell from the aroma what kind of stew she made, but he was famished and willing to eat it. “Yes, but only what can be spared.”

  The woman turned to her children. “Set a place for the prince.” The children ran inside, giggling and laughing.

  Gilbert leaned over the pot and took a whiff. What an unusual aroma. The little girl came to the doorpost, brushed her gnarled dirty-blonde hair from her face then set bowls on the rock by the fire. Her mother scooped stew into four bowls. “Please join us at our table, Prince.”

  He followed her into the one-room home. On the right, sat a log table with two benches. On the left two small beds and one larger had ragged, handmade quilts neatly placed on top. A fireplace, nearly out of coals, was on the far wall. “Where is your husband?”

  The woman sat down and directed Gilbert to his seat. The children squirmed on either side of her. “He was killed last year by a dragon.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yes.” She pulled her son and daughter close and smiled fondly at them. “We usually thank the Great King for our meal before we eat. Would you honor us?”

  The request surprised him. “Since this is your home, you would honor me with wording the thanks.” He waited with the children.

  The boy and girl relaxed their grip on their mother and sat up. Her eyes drifted to the roof. She thanked the Great King with such sincerity. He look at the meager home and the food that barely brought nourishment, the things she gave thanks for and wondered why she didn’t complain. To his surprise she asked a blessing for him and his kingdom.

  Gilbert followed her lead and scooped up his bowl unsure what kingdom she meant. The cabin seemed to be in Aerlis. He sipped the contents and choked down the brew. “What’s in the stew?”

  She paused to swallow then said, “Thistles. Nothing else will grow in the garden, and there is nothing left to hunt.”

  “Thistles? Only thistles will grow?” He wiped his face. “Where am I?” Before she could answer, the log cabin’s room faded, leaving only his bed curtains. He rubbed his eyes then peered out of the opening. “Matthias?”

  “Good. You’re awake. We were quite concerned. Bartholomew the healer…”

  “Matthias, what are you doing here? Where are Katia and Bartholomew the royal healer?”

  “They’ve gone to lunch. May I send in your attendants to prepare you for the coronation?”

  “You mean I’ve been asleep since yesterday?” Gilbert swung his legs down and stepped on the floor forgetting his injury. He quickly grabbed the bedpost when his ankle buckled. “Yes. I’m ready for the coronation. Send in the attendants and the healer.”

  Matthias regally strolled to the door and opened it. “Steward, please call for the prince’s attendants and see to the details of getting the ceremony underway. Also, bring the healer.”

  “Yes, Lord Chancellor.”

  Matthias returned to the chair. “May I suggest we not eat grapes nor consume drink before the ceremony today?”

  “You couldn’t force me to touch any.” Even with his ankle wrapped for support, pain still flared as he put his weight down to walk. Gilbert limped to the window and gazed at the village. He wondered how many of them had to eat thistle stew.

  A guard let the attendants into the room. Their arms were weighed with clothing, jewels, shoes, and manicuring necessities.

  Matthias stood. “I’ll return when you’re ready, Prince.” He bowed then left.

  Nigel and Bennet repeated the preparations from the day before while Bartholomew the healer rewrapped his ankle with herbs that soothed the pain. Satisfied with their work, they bowed. Bennet said, “You appear much healthier today.”

  “I do feel better. Are we finished?” He stepped to the doorway where the attendants draped his royal robe on his shoulders.

  “Yes, I believe you are ready,” Nigel replied.

  They called in Matthias. Once again, he entered with a slow, dignified manner, wearing his royal robe. He strolled around the prince inspecting the attendants’ work. “Are you well, Prince Gilbert?”

  “Well enough, thank you, Lord Chancellor Matthias.”

  “Are you ready to be crowned?”

  “As much as possible.”

  Two groups of guards and Matthias escorted Gilbert down to the second level again. The doors opened to the grand hall on Matthias’s command.

  The guards stationed in front of the prince split to the left and right in a choreographed display. Musicians raised their instruments and played a fanfare. The hall sparkled with sunlight shining through sta
ined glass windows. The room glowed from the added chandelier candles. Mesmerized by the flair, Gilbert stood frozen in place. Everything looked grander than he ever imagined.

  Ambassadors formed two lines, allowing the prince and chancellor room to walk through to the southern balcony. Matthias introduced each dignitary to Gilbert. The guests bowed. Intrigued with the fancy clothes worn by the ambassadors from Malum, Gilbert paused before moving along the line. King Roland’s ambassadors, who, although they had kind faces, dressed with less flair.

  When they reached the end, Matthias ordered the curtains to the balcony opened. Thousands of people packed into the baileys, the courts inside the outer walls, and beyond the outer curtain surrounding the palace. Gilbert had no idea so many people lived in Aerlis.

  Matthias nodded. “Ready?”

  “Yes, I am. Will I have guards with me?”

  “Only the best, my lord.” Matthias snapped his fingers. The guards approached.

  Sir Robert approached with other knights.

  Gilbert had a new respect for this man who survived the Banyan Tree invasion. “How fitting that you should be here. Thank you for serving.” He limped out onto the balcony, his guards standing close by.

  In unison, the trumpeters raised their instruments and triumphantly blared a regal fanfare that echoed against the building. When the last notes sounded, the crowds cheered. Matthias raised his hand to hush the din then nodded to Gilbert to take his seat on the throne.

  The prince climbed three steps then turned and sat. Never had he seen so many people at one time.

  Matthias picked up the royal crown lavished in emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. Strands of gold braided tassels swayed in a balmy breeze. He held the crown high and spoke to Gilbert while facing the witnesses.

  “Will you solemnly promise to protect the people of Aerlis? Will you obey and enforce the laws and edicts set forth by your fathers before you, seeking to change only that which would improve the kingdom? Will you devote your life to mercy, justice, protection, and compassion for the people?”

  Gilbert cleared his throat. “I solemnly promise.”

  Matthias continued to hold the crown as he ceremoniously ascended the stairs. He lowered it onto the prince’s head. “Long live King Gilbert!”

  The king instinctively reached up as the crown slid down over his eyes.

  The herald signaled the masses to cheer, “Long live King Gilbert.” The trumpets played the King’s Salute, as was the custom when he was present. Gilbert angled the crown back and looked at the people’s faces. Even from this distance, their sad eyes and rounded shoulders showed disappointment. He listened to the words of congratulations but heard their lack of trust.

  Who could ever believe or trust in a king like him? The people might have, had he been a knight. He would have mounted his horse with a sword in hand the moment he heard the news of the king’s death and queen’s kidnapping. Instead, he stood here, in regal clothes, performing a ceremony that neither he nor the people wanted. He was a failure.

  Chapter Ten

  Beyond the area where the crowds stood, dried up fields sprawled across hills and flat plains. Gilbert’s mother and father used to boast of Aerlis’s beautiful countryside with blossoming crops, roses, and colorful wildflowers. The sun shone, and plenty of rain had fallen over the past weeks. He didn’t understand why the grain looked haggard.

  Neither had he learned who caused the death of his father. Dragons wouldn’t invade on their own. The many sad faces at what should have been a festive coronation inspired him to demand action. Whoever caused the trouble must be hunted and brought to justice. The suffering must end.

  Matthias gave the signal for Gilbert to rise from his throne for the closing portion of the ceremony.

  The new king walked down the stairs, waving to the people. Protocol dictated he should walk directly to the Great Hall, but he couldn’t. He paused and said, “I care about Aerlis and will do everything in my power to stop the evil. Trust me.”

  “Why should we trust you?” an older man’s voice shouted above the din. “You are only a boy.”

  “Because he is your king,” Matthias shouted back. He rarely used such a harsh tone. “It is your duty to give him your allegiance.” He handed the scepter to Gilbert and bowed. “Long live King Gilbert.” The crowd repeated his words softly, as a child would after being rebuked.

  Gilbert followed Matthias into the receiving hall where the dignitaries quickly left the observation balcony and formed two parallel lines for him to pass through. He walked a few feet and greeted the wealthy adorned in precious jewels and the finest fabrics. This was not where he wanted to be. What did a young king say to the most influential people of the land?

  Out in the baileys, the villagers who depended on the king for their lives and homes shouted the truth. The kingdom would fall to dragons and thistles. He wanted to show them he truly cared, right then, but had no clue what would ease their anger. Gilbert left the dignitaries and returned to the balcony. He stood before the people of Aerlis and waved.

  Their grumblings softened.

  “Wise move, sire,” Matthias said. “Thoughtful actions like that will win their hearts.”

  “Someday I would like to win their favor. Right now, I am more concerned with the dragons and thistles that threaten their lives.”

  Soft yet spirited minstrel music played in the receiving hall where he joined the dignitaries. He greeted a few, especially those from Vista and Malum, his uncles’ kingdoms. From out in the bailey, a man blurted above all other voices, “Your father was the only king for Aerlis.”

  Gilbert returned to the balcony and looked out at the masses at the outer wall and the grassy courtyard before it. A man stood defiantly, raising his fist.

  Matthias grabbed the king’s elbow and pressed him back into the receiving hall. “Never mind, sire. There will always be those who have the gift of babbling.”

  Gilbert pulled his elbow free. “That man said I wouldn’t be a good king.” The abrupt stop let him see a few in the greeting line mocking him. He turned farther. King Ivan’s ambassador nudged his guest. The two raised their eyebrows and smirked.

  “Sire,” Matthias whispered. “There’ll always be those who do not approve of your actions. You must learn to ignore such outbursts. Shall we continue?”

  The ambassadors from Vista bowed then raised their eyes as if wanting to speak.

  The king stepped closer. “Did you want to say something?”

  The ambassador look up. “Your trials will not last, sire. Search for the Rose. It will save your kingdom and show you what to do.”

  The woman with him touched his arm. “He knows. Surely his father told him.” She smiled and lowered her head in respect.

  Gilbert turned to Matthias as they continued through the line. “What Rose are they talking about?”

  “I have no idea, sire. While I’ve served in a high position these many years, your father kept many secrets to himself, refusing the advice from those he placed in trusted positions.”

  “They know.” Gilbert turned back to Uncle Roland’s ambassadors and didn’t see them. “Where are Vista’s envoys?”

  “I don’t know,” said Matthias. “They were just here. King Ivan’s representatives are also gone.”

  He scanned the room. On the other side of the hall, Uncle Ivan’s ambassadors shoved Uncle Roland’s ambassadors out a door like prisoners. He pointed in their direction. “Stop them.”

  Guards pushed through the dignitaries, slipping and sliding across the shiny marble floor in their dress boots. They wormed through the tables giving chase. Four of them burst through the doors and shouted, “Stop in the name of the King.”

  “My lord,” said Matthias. “You should receive your guests at the ceremonial banquet. The guards will take care of this.”

  “But…I…all right.” He looked at the other exit. Having kingly power had its restrictions and obligations. Tomorrow, though, the ceremony would be over and noth
ing would stop him from conducting any investigation he felt important.

  Gilbert turned to his guests. “Thank you for coming. Please join the celebration banquet in the adjoining hall.” He led with the dignitaries in tow. On the way, he whispered to Matthias, “Arrangements have been made for the commoners to celebrate, right?”

  “Yes, sire. Rows of tables with platters of venison, pheasant, boar, cheeses, and breads have been set up in the courts. We spared no expense for such an event.”

  He thought of the starving woman and her children in his dream and smiled. “Thank you. No one should be hungry. Ever.”

  “You’re welcome, sire.”

  Gilbert glanced out a nearby window. The sun shone, bringing warmth. He didn’t want to celebrate with the nobles and dignitaries dressed in fancy clothes and flaunting proper manners. He’d much rather be with his friends and the villagers. “Would there be a problem if I ate outside?”

  “The commoners will be surprised, sire.” Matthias cocked his head. “They haven’t had royals mix with them for a long time. The king usually entertains visiting dignitaries at the ceremonial meal. Are you sure that’s your desire?”

  Music and laughter bubbled through the window from outside. The citizens ate and danced. They had such fun. The dignitaries who followed him to the adjoining hall remained proper and serious. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Very well.”

  Gilbert entered the hall where finely decorated tables had been prepared. Once seated at the head table, Gilbert said, “Please enjoy the food while I greet others.” Servants entered the room with platters of the finest meats and drink.

  He left the room with the chancellor and a few guards. They made their way down the grand staircase and out to the courts. Minstrels, jesters, a theatre troupe, and puppeteers had set up entertainment throughout the outer courts. They called to those passing by, “Come one and all.”