“Sir Knights…do you yield?” Gwaynn cried out over the short distance between his position and the last of the mounted Knights. The Toranado were approaching slowly from the rear and on all sides the infantry was closing on the only large group of mounted enemy.
Captain Hothgaard, who was among the Knights still a horse, looked wildly about in disbelieve, thinking the outcome of the battle was somehow a very big illusion and soon he would spot the rest of his army riding to the rescue. Seconds later he did spot a large formation of cavalry riding toward them from the south of Claymont. Instantly his heart soared, but then he spotted the flag flying at the head of the column, it was a white eagle flying on a dark blue field; the flag of Massi.
‘It could not be…we destroyed them!’ Hothgaard thought.
“Sir Knights…the High King is dead. Lost at sea. You are fighting alone, King Weldon Palmerrio is our prisoner and the Deutzani are destroyed,” the young man behind the formation of spears spoke loudly and directly to Hothgaard. The Captain blinked rapidly at the news.
‘Could it be true? Could the High King be lost?’
“Yield and no more harm will come to you…your wounded will be attended,” said the voice and after a brief moment Hothgaard felt his beating heart slowly calm in his chest. He rode forward away from his confused and disheartened men; most of those around him were unbloodied and had in fact killed no one. For them, as well as for their commander, the battle seemed unreal, not like any other engagement in memory. How was it possible to lose a battle while so many were without wounds, or to be victorious without drawing blood?
“Who speaks?” Hothgaard asked, feeling strangely cool now that the specter of defeat was accepted.
A young man moved out of the crowd and through the forest of spear points. As he cleared his men, Hothgaard found that he recognized him…or rather the likeness of him. The Captain knew without a doubt that this was the son of King Arnot of Massi…this was Gwaynn Massi.
“I am Gwaynn Massi,” the young man confirmed. “And I give you my word that if you yield no more blood need be spilled in this war.”
Captain Hothgaard looked down at the tall, straight-backed young man and actually smiled. He was tired of war…the Massi had won and for some reason the fact of defeat did not cause as much pain as he feared it might. Suddenly he was smiling and he actually chuckled at the thought. In truth, he had never considered defeat…at least not until he arrived on the shores of Massi.
“We will yield Prince Gwaynn Massi,” Hothgaard answered.
“King Gwaynn!” A lone shout came out of the crowd. There was a moment’s pause and then thousands repeated the call. “King Gwaynn! King Gwaynn! King Gwaynn!” The call went on and on and on before finally dying out.
“Very well,” Hothgaard said with a bow of his head, “King Gwaynn,” he conceded and unceremoniously threw down his lance. After a moment’s hesitation the Knights around him did likewise and the final battle, which had gone on for a little less than an hour, was abruptly and decisively over.
Captain Hothgaard dismounted and walked slowly to Gwaynn, when he was close he slowly drew his sword and rested it on his upturned palms.
“My sword,” he yelled for all his men to hear. Gwaynn nodded and then slowly reached out and took the hilt and pulled it up and away from his enemy…now suddenly his prisoner. He thrust the sword up into the air and instantly the army around him shouted their relief and joy to the sky.
“You are?” Gwaynn asked as the din slowly subsided.
“Captain Hothgaard of the Temple Knights,” he answered solemnly. Gwaynn gave a curt nod indicating that he had heard of the leader of the Knights.
“Follow me,” Gwaynn commanded. “Bring your horse,” he added and the two made their way through the living and the dead. Hothgaard was cheered by the fact that though a great many of his Knights were a foot, they were alive. However there were many that lie dead in his path…including Captain Tramm, whose eyes were wide in death, the back of his head cracked open like an egg.
Hothgaard stared at his former friend and comrade, but once he was passed he began to turn his mind to those who were still alive. Defeat was a new experience for him and he was unsure how to handle it.
“My men?” he asked the young man walking beside him.
“Will be treated well…as long as they present no resistance.
“Is the High King truly dead?” Hothgaard asked as other men and women joined in their march from the battlefield, some of those around him the Captain recognized as Tars from the Island of Noble.
“He is truly,” Gwaynn answered finally breaking from the rear lines of the Massi army. They were moving slightly uphill toward a group of men who were overlooking the battle. Somehow Hothgaard had always assumed Pr…King Gwaynn would be among the men controlling the battle, the fact that he was in the very midst of the fighting raised his estimation of the youth dramatically.
“Dead…” Hothgaard repeated mostly to himself.
“He is, and now you must decide where your future loyalties will lie,” an older man to his right said. The man was wearing the colors of Noble and after a moment Hothgaard recognized him.
“High Tar Kostek?”
The man nodded but said nothing more, leaving Hothgaard to ponder his words.
‘And where do my loyalties lie,’ the Captain wondered, ‘with Prince Nigel? He was the logical choice…but was it the wise choice. Prince Nigel was the eldest but he only cared for his music…but perhaps that was not such a bad thing. These broken lands could use a little music, a little dancing. Queen Audra would surely challenge such a decision and prop her own Aiden up as successor. It could get messy indeed. The Knights were the authority behind the High Family and they were beaten, therefore the High Family was beaten. He would have to think on who would succeed High King Caiman Mastoc.’
“Captain Hothgaard, this is General Lonogan Bock,” Gwaynn said and Hothgaard bowed low.
“I’m honored,” the Captain said meaning it, if this was the man who had come up with the strategy used against them.
“As am I,” Lonogan answered with a nod and a slight smile. “If you are alive and in the company of my King, can I assume that the war is now over?”
Hothgaard considered the point for the briefest moment then with realization said. “I guess it is,” and gave his own slight smile.
‘The war is over…the High King is dead,’ he thought then as the rest of the group mounted up Captain Hothgaard wondered just what was in store for the lands of the Inland Sea.
ǂ
Three weeks later the Temple Knights were still adjusting to the idea of defeat and Gwaynn Massi was making the slow transformation from warlord to domestic leader, ruling over a now peaceful nation. The transformation was not always smooth or painless, but with each passing day, life without war and bloodshed was starting to feel almost normal. And all the while, Samantha was growing larger as her time drew near.
“You look tired,” Gwaynn said moving to help her from the chair but she just waved him away, determined to push herself up. She eventually did so but Gwaynn noticed that her belly left the chair well before the rest of her.
“I am tired,” Samantha snapped then smiled. “I can’t sleep,” she added in a much softer tone. “I can’t lie on my belly anymore…or my back…or my side…I just can’t sleep.”
“It will be over soon,” Gwaynn encouraged her.
“Surgeon Knote says two or three more weeks,” she snapped again as Gwaynn watched her waddle over to the pitcher of water. He sat up in bed, naked to the waist and looked over at his soon to be queen. They were to be united in three days…Tar Kostek doing the honors. She was big…his son was going to be big.
“At least you’ll be a queen soon,” he commented trying to cheer her, and she did turn and smile. Once again he saw the girl he loved in her eyes and face.
“The largest queen in all the land,” she said playfully.
“The largest queen, bearin
g the largest prince.”
“Princess!” Samantha insisted.
Before Gwaynn could answer there was a knock at the door. Gwaynn glanced at Samantha briefly. It was early…too early for a social visit.
“Come,” Gwaynn finally said, then stood and pulled on his pants.
Lonogan Bock opened the door and stuck his head in. “Good Morn,” he said then spotted Samantha, “M’lady,” he added.
“Prince Phillip is ranting again. He went to see King Weldon early this morning and now he’s upset.”
Gwaynn sighed. Prince Phillip Toranado was becoming obsessed with the Palmerrio King and insisted on several occasions that the man be placed under his authority. Phillip wanted the Palmerrio King taken back to Eno to stand trial…and most likely hung.
“Where’s Phillip?” Gwaynn asked strapping on the belt which held his kali. He still wore his weapons wherever he went and most likely always would.
“In the main hall, waiting for you,” Bock replied. “It took some convincing from Tabernas to persuade me to come and wake you.”
Samantha snorted, but Gwaynn said nothing. He had great respect for the Toranado Weapons Master; the man would have made a fine Tar. If Phillip would just listen to Tabernas more often…
Once dressed Gwaynn came over and hugged Samantha from behind. “Go back to bed,” he whispered and gave her a quick squeeze then ran his right hand over her extended belly. “I’ll have someone wake you if anything exciting happens.”
Samantha snorted again. “If I’m sleeping and someone wakes me, it had better be for my wedding…nothing else interests me at the moment.”
“Agreed,” he replied with a smile. She climbed back into bed before he was out the door, but again sleep would not come easily.
“Phillip!” Gwaynn said with a smile, surprised that Tar Kostek, the Solitary N’dori and the High Zarina Monde were also present along with the Toranado Prince and his venerable Weapons Master Alba Tabernas. Gwaynn wondered why the others were in attendance but had little time to inquire.
Phillip turned as Gwaynn and Bock entered. “I’ll not be dissuaded again Gwaynn,” Phillip began and strode forward. “The Toranado will be leaving after the wedding…and I want Weldon.”
Gwaynn stood his ground as the Toranado Prince marched right up, stopping before him. “I know how you feel,” Gwaynn answered with genuine sympathy, though he knew there was little chance he would give in to his friend’s demands.
“He attacked my country and sacked my home city.”
Gwaynn nodded, stepped to one side, and then moved farther into the room, angling toward Kostek in the hope that his old mentor would come to his aid. “He attacked my country as well, but putting a King on trial is dangerous business.”
“But he slaughtered my countrymen and nearly drove the wits from my mother. I want my revenge as you’ve had your revenge against Arsinol.”
Gwaynn’s eyes flashed momentarily betraying a spark of anger, but he took a deep breath before rounding on Phillip. “Arsinol was killed in battle not brought before a circus trial…and he had my mother and sister killed before my eyes,” he added through clenched teeth and Prince Phillip flinched, realizing he’d gone too far. His anger left him immediately.
“My apologies,” he said. “But I cannot stomach the man just going free after what he’s done. He needs to be punished.”
“He will be,” Gwaynn promised.
“How?” Phillip asked with genuine curiosity. “How will he be punished? Who will punish him?”
Gwaynn had no answer for that and the two young men just stood looking at one another for several long minutes contemplating the question, but thankfully Phillip seemed to have made his point. He patted Gwaynn on the shoulder as he left the room in the hopes that the gesture would soften any hard feelings. Tabernas followed his prince out giving Gwaynn a nod and a sympathetic smile.
Gwaynn frowned, mulling over the Toranado Prince’s questions. There were no answers. Life seemed so much clearer when all the questions were questions of war.
“That was well done,” Kostek said approaching Gwaynn. He too patted Gwaynn gently on the shoulder. “Pardons General…but could you give us a moment?” Kostek asked Lonogan, who raised his eyebrows in surprise, but quickly agreed and followed Prince Phillip from the room.
Gwaynn wondered briefly at the dismissal. “I can’t just give King Weldon to the Toranado. His death at their hands would create even more animosity between the two countries.”
Kostek nodded. “Yes Prince Keel, Weldon’s eldest, would not take his father’s death lightly.”
“And you know I’ve sent Zarina na Gall to Cassinni,” Monde said. “She’s to bring King Marc a few days early. The Cassinni would like your assistance on the Deutzani problem.”
“The Deutzani problem?” Gwaynn asked.
“Well yes, Arden died in the battle for Lynndon and now his two younger brothers, Avaal and Antioc, are beginning to squabble. Both claim they should be next in line for the throne. Hell, neither deserves it if you ask me. Avaal is sixteen and Antioc just a year older. They’re too young, but they’re each gathering men and arms to make a push for the crown. The land is in chaos, especially up north near the border with the Cassinni where there have been a number of local skirmishes already,” Monde explained.
“But why ask me?” Gwaynn inquired. “I’ve just managed to get control of my own country.” When no one answered he continued. “What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.
N’dori laughed and Monde gave him a wry smile.
“He’s very wise,” the Solitary commented as if Gwaynn were not in the room and even Kostek smiled at that.
“We’re to have a few visitors today,” Monde announced, which did little to remove the frown from Gwaynn’s face.
“Visitors?” Gwaynn asked his eyes going from Monde’s to Kostek’s to N’dori’s, but he could not read anything in any of them.
“Yes…” Monde answered but N’dori cut her off.
“Bring them in,” she said to Kostek, who nodded and walked to a small side door off the western wall of the hall. He held the door open and Gwaynn saw him gesture to someone in the room beyond. Moments later Surgeon Knote of Helles Island entered the room, followed closely by Master Putal and Renault of Lato, then finally and a bit surprisingly, Captain Hothgaard of the Temple Knights.
Gwaynn greeted the Masters with astonishment, surprised and happy to see Renault and to a lesser degree Putal, and confused by the presence of Hothgaard.
“What’s going on?” Gwaynn repeated, but still no one answered. Gwaynn glanced at Master Kostek accusingly.
The older man approached Gwaynn again.
“We are waiting for…” but before he could finish a bridge suddenly sprang open in the middle of the hall not ten feet from Gwaynn and through it stepped the High Tarina Nystrom and Tar Nev. Gwaynn remembered Nystrom as one of the Tarinas on the Council who’d come to his defense. It helped his memory that she was rather youthful and strikingly attractive, with long chocolate brown hair. She approached, giving Gwaynn a dazzling smile and embraced him.
“Congratulations on your victory,” she said softly and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Gwaynn gave her a half smile and a nod and then his eyes locked on the face of his mentor, Tar Nev.
“Mast….master,” Gwaynn said, now thoroughly shocked. “What are you doing here?”
Nev smiled. “I thought that would be obvious,” he said in his cheerful tone. Gwaynn couldn’t help but smile; he’d all but forgotten his old Master’s easy, happy manner. “I’m here to see the crowning of the new High King.”
Gwaynn stared at him, aghast.
“Close your mouth son, you look dumbfounded. It’s not a good look for a High King,” Nev joked and N’dori laughed.
“High King?” Gwaynn asked and glanced about with the hope that someone in the room would object to such a ludicrous idea, but no one did. “But what of Prince Nigel?’ Gwaynn asked and even Nev
turned somber.
“Speaker Gan has informed us that Prince Nigel is dead…as is Princess Anya,” Zarina Monde told him. “Apparently they both died in accidents…very suspicious accidents.”
Captain Hothgaard frowned and looked at Gwaynn with a troubled expression and suddenly Gwaynn understood the man’s presence.
“High King!” Nev exclaimed with a laugh and clapped Gwaynn on the back. “I couldn’t think of anyone better,” the bushy haired Solitary said.
“But Queen Audra…and Prince Aiden.”
“Aiden is too young…and Audra’s treacherous and a Deutzani,” Nev replied. “Do you really want a Deutzani in power?”
Gwaynn frowned.
“And would you truly want to release Weldon Palmerrio with Audra still in overall power?” Tar Kostek interjected.
“But…”
Tarina Nystrom suddenly glided forward and stopped directly before Gwaynn once again. “I am High Tarina of Noble now…and I give you my blessing,” the woman said and suddenly she was on her knees before him.
“As do we,” Master Putal and Renault said in unison and they too knelt before him. Moments later all the leaders of the Temple Islands declared their support and knelt, even Tar Kostek and Tar Nev, who while kneeling were looking up and smiling at Gwaynn, their eyes twinkling with mutual satisfaction.
“There is no one else…no other path available that will not leave you and your people in danger,” Nev whispered. “As High King you will be able to address all the grievances that now plague our lands. You will be able to rebuild the lands of the Inland Sea.”
Gwaynn said nothing just stood above them all, too stunned to speak, but his mind was in a whir. ‘High King!’ He was hardly comfortable with the thought of being King of Massi…and then the questions hit him. ‘Who would rule Massi? And Deutzani…Audra? With the death of her father and brother, it may be her rightful place but she was a sworn enemy of Massi. Could he allow her to rule? And what of her son…and the babe on the way?’
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