"I commanded him," she said triumphantly. "He can't refuse a royal command, even from me!"
Her voice began to crack, and she turned away, but not before he saw the tears forming in her eyes. He closed his own eyes and fell into a fit-full sleep once more.
He awoke later to feel a tingling in his leg. He opened his eyes and looked down to see an old, gaunt man he didn't recognize. The gaunt man had gently placed two hands on Gerald’s leg and, with his eyes closed, was muttering something he couldn't quite understand. He realized with a shock that he was no longer in pain, and, though weak, felt quite well.
The man stopped his strange litany of words and raised his hands from his leg. To Gerald’s surprise, there was no sign of his leg wound. Not only that but not even his old wounds, which had plagued him for so long, could be seen.
"I see the patient has awoken," the old man said, turning to look at Gerald. "How are you feeling?"
Gerald blinked a few times. "I feel weak, but I'm not in pain anymore."
"Of course, I have repaired the flesh, but the spirit will still have to heal. You'll need to stay in bed for, let's say, three days." The old man looked with interest into his eyes.
"I don't understand. What just happened?" Gerald’s question hung in the air.
"Simple," the man explained. "I healed you using the Arcane Powers that I have learned. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Andronicus, the Royal Life Mage."
So this was the mysterious life mage he had heard so much about. The same life mage that Marshal-General Valmar had refused to allow Gerald to visit when Fitz had shipped him to the Capital. He couldn't believe how good he felt. His smile was infectious, and it was as he was looking around that he saw Anna. She looked tired, and dishevelled, but much more relaxed with the beginning of a grin on her face.
"You're a lucky man," continued the mage, "if the princess had not used the warriors moss on you, you'd have been dead before I arrived." He turned to face Anna, "Where did you learn such things, Your Highness?"
Anna looked back at Andronicus and smiled. "Gerald taught me about the moss, and then I looked up the rest in the library here. I read a lot." The last was added almost as an afterthought.
"Well, it seems," continued the mage, "that we have a budding scholar in the Royal Family. Would you like me to send you some more books on the subject?"
"Yes, please. It proved to be ever so useful."
Andronicus rose from his seat and slowly walked over to Tempus, who was lying on the floor. "This fellow," he noticed, "has seen a lot of fights in his time. Do you mind if I help him a little?"
"Of course not," replied Anna, "but what's wrong with him?"
"Oh, nothing too bad, I'm just going to freshen him up a bit." With these words, the mage placed a hand on the dog’s head. Tempus relaxed and then the mage starting an incantation of sorts. The dog's face seemed to grow fuzzy, and then Gerald realized what was happening. He was regenerating Tempus' skin, and even as he watched, the scars disappeared. "That ought to do it!" exclaimed the mage. "Now," he continued, "remember my instructions. You," he pointed at Gerald, "are to rest for three days and you," he turned to look at Anna, "go and get some sleep. As for me, I am a busy man. I’ll take a quick look at the steward, and then I must get back to my studies." He bowed gracefully to Anna, "I am ever at your service Your Highness."
Gerald watched him walk out of the room. The Mage seemed to glide along the floor.
Sophie stepped into the room. "I'll look after Gerald, Your Highness. You should go and get some sleep."
Anna nodded and turned one last time to smile at Gerald, allowing the other servants to guide her from the room.
Two days later Gerald was feeling much better. He had Sophie and Anna nearby while he tried to stand. Much to his surprise, he found his right leg completely healed and it was as though he had never been wounded at all. He felt younger than he had in years. He was very pleased with his progress, prompting him to attempt to walk from one side of the room to the other. He was soon feeling faint, for though the mage had mended his limbs, he still had to recover his energy. He was tucked back into bed for more rest. Over the next few days he was allowed the briefest of exercise until, five days later, he could walk without getting dizzy. He was soon back to his old self, better actually, since he no longer had the limp that had plagued him for so long.
By the time he returned to the cottage, he was as fit as can be. He took the walking stick that Anna had given him and placed it on the wall along with his chainmail. It was a memento now, a reminder of his past.
Chapter 18
The Birthday
Autumn 957 MC
IT was October the 11th, Anna’s birthday. Gerald had decided to surprise her, so he made his way to the Hall for breakfast, like he would any other day. The weather was a little cool for the time of the year but not so cold as to require heavier clothing.
As he entered the servant’s dining hall to sit down for his morning meal, he nodded to Hanson, who had resumed his seat at the head of the table. The old man was not very active these days and still suffered from his condition. Andronicus had been unable to heal him, for even magic had its limitations. He was permanently afflicted with a limp arm and a face that didn't quite work properly on one side, but his presence brought a calmness to the table.
Anna took up her seat at the opposite end, with the food being served by Mrs Brown. Thick warm toast to go with fresh bacon and eggs, lovely scones on the side and a delicious apple cider which she had flavoured with something called cinnamon, a rare spice brought into Merceria by Westland traders.
Anna appeared particularly pleased with herself this morning, thought Gerald. Apparently, she was expecting some recognition that it was her birthday. Gerald decided to play innocent. "How are you today Anna?"
"I’m very well Gerald," she replied politely. "Isn't it a grand day?"
"Why would you say that?" prompted Gerald. "Is it a special day or something?"
The look she gave him was priceless. He had convinced her that he had forgotten her birthday! The look of shock was too much for Gerald to bear, so he decided to change his tactics.
"Oh yes, it's your birthday today, isn't it?" he remarked.
"Yes," she replied with a big smile. "I'm ten years old today."
"Well," he continued, "I suppose we should do something special today. How about a trip to the village?"
Tempus, who until this time had been quiet on the floor, sat up and barked. He was far too smart for a dog and had learned to recognize the term 'village'.
Anna grinned as she responded, "I think that would be an excellent idea."
They ate their breakfast rather quickly, much to the consternation of Mrs Brown, who had been awake for hours in the kitchen preparing the meal. They all but rushed from the room, still carrying a slice of toast and jam as they made their way to the stables. Of course, Gerald had already prepared the wagon, and Anna gave him a look that said she realized he had planned this all along. Shortly after, they were on the way to town with Tempus laying in the back of the wagon.
Since the attack, Gerald had taken to wearing his sword on his trips into town. While they were driving Anna saw him adjusting it slightly when it rattled against the seat.
"What was it like in Bodden?" she asked quite unexpectedly.
"The town or the keep?" he replied.
"The village, was it a lot like Uxley?"
"No, they built the village at Bodden inside the outer bailey. The whole village is essentially walled."
Anna was thoughtful for a moment then asked, "Do they grow the crops inside the walls then?"
"No," he continued, "the farmers grow their crops in the area away from the keep. The baron doesn't want any buildings just outside the walls, it aids the enemy during a siege, so the farmhouses are all some distance away."
"But what if an attack comes?" she asked.
"Well, there’s a keep at one end that's much higher than the walls, and there�
�s a signal fire at the top. If an attack is imminent, a fire is lit, and that's the signal to rush to the keep. Normally there would be outposts with signal fires as well, but during the first siege, back in '25 the raiders bypassed the signal fires and got into the inner keep."
"It must have been terrible."
"Yes, there were a lot of deaths. After the siege, the baron re-organized the watch system to avoid the same mistake. He was a fast learner, and he wouldn't get caught unawares again."
"What was it like being a soldier? What did you do when you weren't fighting?"
“Mostly I trained. I was driven in those days, the loss of my wife and daughter had hurt me deeply, and I swore to kill as many Norlanders as possible. I was a soldier when I married, but after their deaths, I became a man obsessed. Every spare moment was taken up in training.”
“Did you fight a lot?” asked Anna.
“Yes, the frontier was a volatile border, with Norland raiders coming across the river on a regular basis. They made a big push the next summer and laid siege. Lord Richard became the Baron of Bodden when his brother died. When he was named the new baron, he made me his Sergeant-at-Arms.
“What’s a Sergeant-at-Arms do?” Anna seemed extremely interested in every little detail of his frontier life.
“He’s the senior soldier in the garrison. The baron would give the orders, and I would make sure they were carried out. That included seeing to the men’s training. Eventually, he also made me the weapons master.”
"What's a weapons master do?" she prompted, absorbing his every word.
"It's like a senior sergeant. I had to look after the weapons, properly train the soldiers, and so on. I was even asked to teach the baron’s daughter, but that's a whole other story."
They were rounding the corner that led to the village, and they could see the familiar structures that collectively made up Uxley; they would be arriving soon. The view was quite picturesque, and there was a moment of shared silence.
"What was it like fighting? Was it scary?"
He thought for a moment and then replied honestly. "It was terrifying. A battle is not all clash of arms and ringing horns. It’s blood and guts and sweat. It's entrails and shit clogging your movement and swamping your nose with smells. It's wild moments of fear, but an experienced soldier can harness that fear, and as long as you don't break, you'll win through. The baron hated killing, but he was a good leader. We had a chance to obliterate the Norlanders, but he wisely chose to let them escape. He said that if he killed them all, the entire country would rise against us, yelling for revenge. He’s resourceful tactician."
"What are the Norlanders like? Are they really wild men in furs?"
"No, they’re much like us, even speaking the same language, though they have some words that are slightly different. If you were to dress one as a Mercerian, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference."
They were coming into the village proper, and Tempus sat up. Off in the distance, he could hear Jax barking, and Tempus knew it was play time. He leaped from the wagon, shaking it with his sudden movement, and before they knew it, he was running ahead, barking in glee.
Sam Collins came out to meet them. They unhooked the horses from the wagon and stabled them. The saddle maker was always happy to see them. They exchanged pleasantries and headed for their usual haunt, the Old Oak Tavern. Jax and Tempus followed along, running circles around the trio as they made their way across the bridge and up to the tavern’s entrance.
Gerald stopped at the doorway and opened the door for Anna, who dutifully stepped forward to enter. Making her way through the opening, she was greeted with a tremendous cacophony, as all the people inside yelled “Happy Birthday”.
Sam and Gerald stepped up behind her. She had stopped and held her hands to her mouth, utterly surprised by the villagers. There was a table set for them at the end of the room, near the fire. In the corner, the local blacksmith was playing the flute with some skill. They brought drinks to the table and then Mrs Babbage, the local baker, presented a large bowl of the sweet apple pudding that Anna liked so much. It was steaming with rich cream poured over it. The smell alone made the entire room echo an appreciative, “Mmmmm”.
Gerald was enjoying the experience. He noticed even Renfrew sitting at a table raising his mug in salute to the princess. Cheers were raised, songs were sung, and the party-like atmosphere was infectious.
They were chatting amongst themselves when a red-haired stranger entered the tavern. The room went quiet as he made his way to the bar. A rough-cut green cloak covered his dark chainmail. He walked with an air of importance and leaned on the bar. "A drink of ale, my good man."
Arlo Harris, the tavern owner, glanced over at the new patron and, with a look of disgust on his face, poured him an ale. Anna was confused, and asked, "Who’s that?"
Gerald sized the man up quickly. "That," he said quietly, "is a King’s Ranger."
"Don't they patrol the king’s roads?" she asked.
"Originally, they did, now they just travel around enforcing the king’s will. There are still some honest men and women who are rangers, but mostly they take advantage of their position to enrich their own pockets at others expense."
The man drained his tankard and banged it on the counter, the universal signal for a refill. Arlo looked at him, expecting to see some coins.
The man reached into his tunic and brought forth his mark. Each King’s Ranger wore a medallion around his neck with the symbol of the rangers on one side and their number on the back. It was a sign of their power. The man held it out as if it were a magic talisman.
"Rangers drink for free," he said loud enough for all to hear. "If you disagree, you can send the bill to the king."
"That's not true," Anna burst out, incensed at the ranger’s attitude. "There's no such law!" She sat up, angry that he was taking advantage of the villagers, her villagers.
The ranger looked at the table and wandered over in a slow, calculated manner. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? An expert in the laws of the kingdom?"
The room was still quiet, watching the story unfold before their very eyes. No one dared upset a King’s Ranger; it just wasn't done.
Anna stood up in an attempt to make herself bigger. She was scared but dared not back down now. Gerald immediately stood, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. "We don't want any trouble," he said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.
"King’s Rangers don't get to take what they want!" Anna declared, defiantly. Tempus perked his ears up.
She was cut off abruptly, "Shut up," the ranger yelled, "or I'll cut that tongue from your mouth!" He turned to look at Gerald who stood, calmly, waiting for his next move. "You have the appearance of a soldier. You ever served?"
"Yes," Gerald replied, "in the Northern Wars."
The ranger eyed him carefully. "I say you're a deserter. You look fit enough. No one leaves the army till their dead or infirm."
Gerald took a step forward to place himself between Anna and the ranger. No one in the room moved, so spellbound were they by the confrontation. Anna put a hand on Tempus to calm him. The last thing they needed right now was the dog attacking a King’s Ranger.
"Hear me!" the man spoke in a loud voice. "I am Osferth of the King’s Rangers, and I arrest this man as a deserter." He moved to draw his sword, but Gerald’s hand was quicker. It shot forward, and he gripped the man’s wrist, holding it tight in a vice-like grip.
"Get your hands off me, you filthy deserter!" Osferth snarled.
"I think you are mistaken, friend." Gerald tried to soothe the man. "A mistaken identity. I work at the Royal Estate."
"A likely story," Osferth said. "I don't suppose you have any proof of this?" He glanced around the room.
Surprisingly, it was Renfrew who spoke up. "It's true," he offered. "He's the Royal Groundskeeper and that young lady," he pointed at Anna, "is Her Royal Highness, Princess Anna." His words were slightly slurred, a testament to the alcohol he h
ad consumed. He rose, albeit unsteadily to his feet and moved slowly over toward the ranger, who watched him warily.
"Of course," Renfrew continued, "you could arrest or kill Gerald here at your discretion, but I would have to report that to my immediate superior. Perhaps you know him, Marshal-General Valmar?"
The name struck fear into the ranger’s eyes. Everyone knew that Valmar was the king’s closest confidant.
Gerald slowly relaxed his grip on the man’s wrist. He was aware that Osferth would not like this humiliation, but now he needed a graceful exit.
It was Arlo who diffused the situation. "Come," he said, "finish your drink my ranger friend, and let's forget this whole thing."
Osferth stared at Gerald. It was as if there was a test of willpower going on. "I'll remember you," he said at last. "You'd best hope that our pathss don't cross again."
The ranger turned back to the bar and quickly drained the tankard again. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and then strode from the bar.
There was a collective sigh of relief as he left.
Anna walked over to the bar. "Here," she said, "let me pay for the ranger’s drinks."
Arlo surprised her. "No, Your Highness, it's just part of doing business in Merceria. You keep the coins for other things."
She turned to face Renfrew. "Thank you, Renfrew, for your service."
"Don't thank me, Princess," he said, "I'm merely being selfish. I've grown quite accustomed to this new lifestyle, and I wouldn’t want anything to interfere with it."
She watched him wobble a little as he tried to stand still, then he turned slowly and trod back to his seat, waving at the tavern owner to get another drink.
It was late afternoon by the time they were ready to leave the party. Gerald checked outside to make sure the ranger wasn't around to cause any trouble before he would let Anna out. They made their way back to the wagon and Gerald hitched the horses. Tempus seemed very alert, looking out for danger and Anna clung to the loose skin around his neck.
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