“How...”
“Did I do that?” Annatrice smiled.
The King exhaled loudly.
“Why if you were my daughter I would spank you, however as you are my trusted of allies I am blessed by your most convincing of arguments.”
The King sat back down.
“Once we are through the outer walls, we will then silence the guards and...”
Annatrice silenced him.
“No, we will not draw our blades. I know many of the King's guardian's; they are loyal only through fear of their lives. They are paid little and work under the most severe of conditions. I will simply tell them to go to their barracks and take to their beds. When they see the head of Tragian atop a spike the next morning and hear the words of a wise new ruler, they will throw down their arms and most likely be glad to find work under a more benevolent employer. If Fontayne falls then word will quickly spread to Karick and beyond. As I am told, many of the nobles of Araman are in league with Suleyman and will fail to muster their people to march on Fontayne. Those who follow Tragian are surely known to you and can quickly be overpowered before any serious opposition can be gained.”
The King sat and marvelled at the young woman whose insight and intellect were staggering for one of such tender age.
“I do believe you have it all worked out!” He exclaimed with a wry smile.
“It need not be a bloody beginning to a time of hope for the people of Araman that is my one caveat. No Suleyman army shall set foot on Araman soil; I can be no part of that.”
The King rose and looked down from a great height.
“So, let it be so.” He smiled and left, causing a draught as his large body ploughed through the air.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Over the course of the next week, the castle gates of Stormwater were seldom closed as riders left and returned with statements of intentions and specialist soldiers brought in for the forthcoming operation. A march across two hundred miles of Araman soil remaining undetected was the mission brief, it seemed a difficult task knowing that Tragian was a paranoid operator and his outposts and troops were dotted about the land like burial mounds.
Agreeing a small party of twenty including the King and his young seer, it would be an incredibly risky pursuit. In such small numbers, the King was vulnerable in the extreme. A hand chosen group of the most trusted and battle hardened soldiers were called for and gathered at Stormwater in readiness. Behind the leading party, a second group of soldiers would ride to offer enhanced protection after Fontayne was breached. A third selection of warriors was also required. These would enter Araman and make their way to individual targets across the land. These were the assassins, the most shadowy of figures who would curtail any resistance by finding Tragian's loyal nobles and sending them to their grave.
Annatrice watched from the high window of the tower as horses were made ready and armour and weaponry honed.
“How does it feel?”
Annatrice was distracted by a familiar voice from behind her. A voice she had not heard in a number of weeks.
“It feels terrifying Charleroux.” She admitted her face full of anxiety of what was to come.
“I know the feeling. I am riding with you.” Annatrice looked at her husband in shock.
“Why? You are no warrior!” She laughed at Charleroux's expense.
“No, but I know the castle well. I have been there on many occasions. We need to be swift in our actions; we must enter quickly and decisively.”
Annatrice was a little smug. Charleroux and decisive did not normally go hand in hand.
“Somehow though, with your presence I feel that we will all be quite safe.” Charleroux seemed fairly acceptant of his fate and maybe he was right, after all she had proven her powers to all, there was a confidence in her abilities that increased morale amongst the travelling party. The sun was blazing and the air was fresh, it seemed the dawn of a new era was on the horizon, confidence was at an all time high.
Annatrice stood in the luxurious surroundings of her chambers as she examined her clothes for the coming journey. Constance smiled at her in sympathy, for the clothes were the rough and itchy cloth of a peasant and it had been some time since Annatrice had experienced the familiar discomfort.
“I do not miss this.” Annatrice said as she removed her own silky gown.
“I will miss you greatly.” Constance said, her face bravely twitching as she held back the tears.
“I will eagerly await your return.” She added attempting to make herself feel better. Annatrice walked up to her and embraced her maid who had stuck by her side through the thick and thin.
“Oh Constance I shan't be coming back.” Annatrice revealed bringing her maid to tears. Sniffing and spluttering she inquired why.
“Even if Tragian fall's there is no place for me here. My destiny lies elsewhere, far away where I can find my own meaning in sweet solace.”
Constance flung her head back and looked to the ceiling, not wanting her mistress to see her distress.
“But Lord Charleroux, you are bound to him?”
“No, I am not. He will let me go, it is our agreement.”
“Then what of your duty to the King?” Constance was clutching at straws.
“Have I not done my duty already, Connie? I have given him lifetimes worth of servitude, now is the time that I seek to serve myself a little. Is that too much to ask?”
Constance shook her head, she was delighted for Annatrice but her own selfish emotion was clouding her judgement.
“Then go then, but never forget your faithful maid that has grown to love you so dearly.”
Annatrice flung her arms around her and squeezed her tight.
“I'll never forget the times where you should have walked away but always came back. Thank you.”
Annatrice reached up a little and kissed her maid upon the forehead and stroked her face wiping away a salty tear. Constance stood and watched proudly as Annatrice pulled on her furs and fastened the final buttons of her jacket.
“I am ready.” Annatrice said as she took one last look at the magnificent tiled hall and the mythical winged sculpture that had fascinated her and provided inspiration for her poetry.
“Then go.” Constance whispered, smiling bravely but faltering as soon as her mistress had turned the corner.
Down the winding and seemingly never ending stairs, Charleroux waited for her in the base of the tower as did Sophima who had grown so fond of her troubled acquaintance. Charleroux looked comical to Annatrice in his brown fabrics; it must have been quite a trial for him.
“I see you are ready.” The princess said with a lump in her throat.
“You must take care of my father...I know you will of course.” She added. No one had done more for him.
“Thank you Sophima, for your spirit. It sustained me in darker days.” Annatrice held out her hand and it was gratefully received.
“In a matter of days, you will not only be a heroine in Suleyman but also Araman too.” Sophima was kind but it was not fame that Annatrice sought.
“All being well...” Annatrice added, she did not want to appear to arrogant.
“I will await your return eagerly so we can once again ride out for a picnic.” Sophima smiled and Annatrice nodded. Stepping out into the bright sunshine, the compound was full of shuffling horses, carts and busy stable hands struggling to deal with their new, less well mannered ponies.
“I'm afraid you will not have the pleasure of Majestic this time. We wanted our rides to match our perceived wealth. It could be a bumpy ride.”
Charleroux was already whining and Annatrice boldly strode forward annoyed at his presence already. The soldiers that had heard so much about her and whose expectations were so great all studied her intently as they sat astride their mounts. Some drove carts and like a true lady, she felt compelled to board the nearest wagon despite her will to take a horse. As she sat on the hard wooden bench, she turned to only then notice the King
sat at her side with a broad smile upon his face.
“Are you fit to ride with this old man?” He asked the reins of the horse loose in his hands.
“I am.” She said taking a long slow breath.
Annatrice did not look back as the walls of Stormwater were left behind; she was not one to look back, her mind set only on what lie ahead. If she had looked back she would have seen her loyal maid waving vigorously from the tower, her face moist with tears but her apple cheeks rosy and her smile as wide as the castle gates.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
The journey was such that as darkness fell upon the land, the caravan of the King crossed over the known and disputed border of his own realm into the relative wilderness of Western Araman. The expansive moorland that greeted the King and his entourage at least offered tremendous line of sight to the scouts that rode on ahead and scanned the horizon with their mystifying eyeglasses.
Annatrice managed to sleep despite the bumpy cart making even sitting up straight difficult, the King remained vigilant by her side. He had hoped that she would maybe detect any impending dangers but if she saw fit to sleep then that was maybe a good sign or so the King believed.
Charleroux's knowledge of the geography of Araman was of a paramount importance. When the sun rose, it was the King's intention to be somewhere safe and secure where they could remain until the following nightfall. The place that Charleroux chose was a remote outcropping of rocks halfway up the Sheynehin Hill. Behind those rocks lay a large cavernous system of tunnels, the product of a failed and now abandoned mining project. Charleroux knew this as he was the man who financed the operation much to his discredit. There it would offer a halfway base from which to launch the second stage as darkness fell the following day, riding on to Fontayne to reach its walls just before the cockerels awoke. With good fortune and no delays, this would see a minimal guard, fatigued by a long night of standing around and pliable in their will to resist Annatrice's charm.
As hoped and perhaps a testament to Charleroux's well conceived plans, the night passed by without incident or encounter. The journey had been longer than it need be due to circumventing small villages and larger towns where Araman soldiers were stationed. The journey could not take into account the presence of bandits however and although attacks were rare, caravans of wagons were a prime target for opportunistic thieves. If the contents of the wagons had been pillaged, any bandit who survived the hungry blades of fifteen of the most elite warriors in the land would have found little of worth.
Apart from the guards, the King, Charleroux and Annatrice, a court official named Viktor Rudondo also travelled. He was an expert in law and had travelled to study the Araman records and ensure the unity could be drawn up. The other fellow in the party was a spokesman for the King himself, Jakub. A most eloquent and respected of figures whose task it was to negotiate the initial stages of the Kings usurpation. There was no room for priest, aides or other luxuries. Deo Canthi had ensured that there was no place for Drayk either. It was his privilege to ride at the Kings side, one that was quashed to appease Annatrice who would never had stomached the indignity of being forced into his company. Drayk rode with the second group of soldiers who if all going to plan would arrive at the castle an hour after the initial sortie.
Climbing the steep hillside in order to reach the caverns was difficult to say the least. The riders on horseback found it easier, but the carts were simply too bulky and heavy to be drawn up the gradient. As the morning light begun to shine down, it offered a little aid as finally, under more man power than horse power, the carts were pushed down a path behind the giant boulders and were well concealed from any passersby who rode along the Western Way, the main path which bisected the realm which could be seen in the far distance.
Whilst the majority of the party found some kind of respite upon the damp and uneven ground of the caverns, Annatrice who had slept for the most part was bright eyed and alert. She chuckled to herself at the King's sleeping arrangements. His substantial mass was cushioned with numerous blankets whilst his soldiers slept virtually unprotected in the dank murkiness of the cave floor.
Annatrice sat outside on a rock; no doubt she would have been scolded for being visible to the most eagle-eyed if anyone had been awake. From the hill she had a spectacular view of her home land and she felt strangely comforted by the more rugged landscape in relation to Suleyman. The air was so clean, it invigorated her and reminded her of what she was fighting to protect. The remote location also gave her more tranquillity than she had felt in a long while. Only the soldier's fitful sleep was impinging on her solace, their thoughts were of battle and death. Annatrice hoped it would not come to that.
In the late afternoon, the majority of the group were once again awake and ready to move on. A fire was lit and food warmed. Annatrice was staggered by the skill of the soldiers in preparing the fire with so little smoke. The warriors did not say a great deal, she felt their tension as was to be expected. Many of them were also complete strangers so they had yet to build camaraderie. A few jests were offered around the fire but tongues were held tightly in place. Not only were they in the company of a lady but also their King. Deo Canthi belched his way through his meal because he could and no one would dare say anything. Annatrice found it amusing and it only encouraged the King who somehow found the air to continue the mirth. No sooner had the fire died when the moon was high and visible in the clear sky and the sun began to set. The soldiers silently gathered their things and cleaned up behind them to remove all traces of their presence. Annatrice once more climbed up to the bench of the wagon and envisaged another night of sore buttocks and heavy eyelids.
The light of the moon was useful in aiding navigation but unfortunate for those who wished to conceal their presence. The last hour of the journey would inevitably be the most treacherous as they moved into the path of the river Huk and with it, all the conurbations which grew from its rich harvest. Fortunately, they did not have to pass Karick to get to the castle but they would have to cross the river to do so. Avoiding the river would require several more hours of circumventing the deep and swollen waters leaving them exposed in the light of the day. It was not a foregone conclusion that daylight would bring the Kings Entourage strife. They could easily be taken for a group of traders moving from one town to another however, it was best not to take that chance. It was more imperative to reach the castle before the morning for obvious reasons.
It was decided then to cross the Huk at the earliest opportunity where the highest point possible meant the shallowest of waters. As Annatrice found out, even the most shallow rivers could be treacherous at night and it was at that point that the King decided to abandon the carts and continue on horseback alone. They had made steady time but had fallen behind a little; this would kill two birds with one stone but would require sharing of horses which was uncomfortable at best. The largest and sturdiest of stallions was chosen to carry the weight of the King and a muscular warrior. Annatrice could not conceal her mirth at the sight of the King being lifted by his buttocks by several soldiers in the attempt to mount the whinnying animal. Annatrice shared with a quiet but courteous soldier who sought reassurance of her comfort on regular intervals. Charleroux rode alone, perturbed that Annatrice did not feel comfortable enough to ride with him.
As the feint glow of the rising sun began to lighten the horizon, pushing their steeds to their limits, the King and his party caught their first glimpse of the dark shadow that was Fontayne in the distance. Only the dotted pin pricks of torchlight revealed any detail. The lead rider slowed the pace and the horses caught their breath. It was almost time for Annatrice to weave her magic and cast her spell. As the realisation set in, her heart began to thump and her hands began to shake. The moment she had waited for nearly three years was upon her.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
The raiding party pulled up short of the castle and surveyed for some kind of cover. The castle overlooked the Karick flatlands making any approach d
ifficult. If they were tardy, then the impending light would surely catch them out and they would be spotted. Concerns over getting close enough to the ominous structure were well founded. Annatrice was not sure that she had the range in her abilities to work from this far out. Her nervousness also did not help. She knew that the fate of all the men in her group were firmly in her charge. She dare not get this wrong.
“How close?” The King asked her, the tension telling in his voice.
“Gods, I cannot tell, I feel we are too far away.” Annatrice replied. It was the answer that the King dreaded. One of the soldiers, the senior of the warrior's spoke up.
“Then we must move in on foot and follow the contours of the land. I will take the girl forward and give a signal when it is safe to approach.”
“And the signal?” Charleroux piped up.
Annatrice bravely stepped in.
“I shall let Charleroux know, I know his mind, and it is easy to breach.”
Charleroux did not know whether that was a back-handed compliment or just a logical statement.
“Good. When the gates are parted, we will ride in at speed.” The King stated boldly as the other soldiers readied themselves, not yet revealing the glint of their blades.
“There is one more thing.” Annatrice squeaked, afraid of being rolled over by the will of the eager soldiers.
“There must be no bloodshed. As I have said before, these soldiers are known to me, they will not defend the King if a better offer is made. There is also another good reason...whilst I am in bond with their thoughts; I am connected with them both emotionally and perhaps more. To inflict pain on them will cause me great torment...” Annatrice was visibly scared, her voice quivered uncontrollably.
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