Servant of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  “Of course, my lord. I assume a room for yourself and one for the lady and her servant?”

  “And the drivers, of course,” Gerald added. “Her ladyship wants them well rested for the remainder of the journey.”

  “Of course, my lord,” the man said and turned to Anna. “If your ladyship would care to come and sit in the common room while we prepare your lodgings, we’d be delighted to offer you some food and refreshment.”

  Anna straightened her back, trying to be as lady-like as possible. “Thank you; you may lead on Master…”

  “Master Thomas Draymon, your ladyship. I have the honour of owning the Gryphon’s Rest.”

  The man was about to turn to lead them into the inn when Tempus jumped down from the carriage. Gerald could see the innkeeper’s eyes widen with surprise, but to the man’s credit, he didn’t let the massive beast intimidate him. Perhaps, he thought, he was used to the strange practices of nobles.

  The proprietor led them into the common room of the inn. Gerald insisted that Anna follow the man alongside Sophie, with Gerald and Tempus following behind. As they entered the room, Gerald could feel the warmth of the fire. There was a thin layer of smoke in the air; the firewood must have been wet. Intermingled with the smell of burning wood was the smell of the kitchen, making Gerald suddenly realize how hungry he was. Leading them to a table near the fireplace, Master Draymon pulled the seat out for Anna. He had evidently had to deal with young nobles before. In mere moments, a serving woman appeared with pewter cups and a delicious honeyed wine for the table. Gerald sniffed this cautiously, then gingerly tasted the concoction. It carried a pleasant odour, and the wine slid down his throat easily. He pronounced it to be suitable and the woman, who had been waiting for his approval, poured wine into the other cups, then disappeared back into the somewhat crowded room to see about some food.

  Anna was looking around the room with great interest, taking it all in. Gerald could see the look of excitement on her face. This was all new to her, he thought, and so much different from the Old Oak in Uxley Village. Here there was a sense of wealth, of influential and well to do customers, very far removed from the simple homespun crowd back home.

  Anna leaned in toward the table slightly to speak without being overheard. “This is so thrilling!” she exclaimed. “Is this what it’s like in Wincaster?”

  Gerald cast his eyes over the other customers. “I suppose it’s what you might find in some places in Wincaster, probably more the richer areas, close to the Palace, but it’s not the kind of place that I would be familiar with.”

  Their entrance had caused the volume in the room to lower temporarily, but upon their taking their seats, the voices returned to their previous level. It was strange, Gerald thought, to be in such an establishment. He felt out of place, like an impostor, nervous that someone might discover his ruse, and turn him out. Their table was quiet as the server brought them food. He could see Anna and Sophie both straining to hear what other people were saying.

  The arrival of the food broke their silence. Soon the three were all tucking into their plates. Gerald dropped some meat to Tempus, who had lain down beside the table, only to discover that Anna and Sophie had both done likewise. The look of surprise on his face must have been evident for Anna laughed, then quickly tried to cover her mouth with her hand, lest she bring attention to herself.

  The food was exceptional. Gerald found himself eating more than his usual share. The inn was generous with its portions, and it was quite evident that their customer’s expected it to be so. There was far too much food in Gerald’s opinion. He felt guilty leaving remnants on his plate, but so full was he, that he couldn’t eat another bite. Even Tempus had had his fill and was now lying on the floor with odd bits of meat nearby, uneaten.

  Gerald washed down the meal with more honey wine and soon felt lethargic. The feast and the wine were having its effect, and he found his eyelids drooping. He snapped them open only to see Anna in a similar predicament. Sophie, who had not eaten as much, sipped her wine slowly and didn’t appear to be as affected. As he watched Anna struggle to stay awake, he began to discern individual conversations in the room. Most were simply uninteresting, but one, in particular, seemed to grab his attention, for he heard the words ‘the king’ and his eyes were drawn to a table nearby. Anna heard it as well, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see her turn in the same direction.

  The man speaking was younger, in his early twenties, and his companion was an older man, perhaps his father or uncle, for there was a resemblance to their faces. The younger man seemed to be toasting the king for he held a cup up in the air waiting for his companion to acknowledge the toast. The older man had a twisted look of disgust on his face.

  “I’ll not toast the tyrant!” he refused. “To the Underworld with him.”

  “Come now,” said the younger man, “it’s customary to toast the king, surely it couldn’t hurt?”

  “Not after Wincaster,” the older man replied. “There are far too many deaths at his hand. Remember the riots back in ‘53, that was bad business, that.”

  “You can’t blame that on the king,” interjected the young man, “it was food shortages, and a bad harvest, that’s all.”

  “His Majesty certainly didn’t suffer from a lack of food,” roared the old man. “He was holding lavish parties and feeding his noble friends, while we starved. No, I’ll not toast the king.” The last word was almost spat out; such was the distaste the man showed.

  Gerald turned to Anna, who, like him, had been listening. There was a look of shock on her face. She turned pale, and he wondered if she might swoon, but she simply reached for her cup to take a sip. Her whole body seemed to shrink as if she was trying to disappear.

  “I think,” he started, “that perhaps it might be a good idea to retire for the evening. We want to leave early in the morning so that we arrive in Wincaster before they close the city gates.”

  Anna was relieved to be given the opportunity to vacate the room and stood, perhaps, a little too suddenly. The effect of the wine was noticeable, and she swayed unsteadily on her feet. Sophie was quick to make her way to Anna’s side to steady her, and Gerald took her other arm. They escorted her towards the stairs where the innkeeper met them with a ring of keys, leading them upstairs, where Anna and Sophie were given the room at the end of the hallway with Gerald and Tempus in the room next door. The two drivers, they discovered, were already ensconced in their room having taken their food with them.

  Gerald made sure Anna was all right and left her in Sophie’s care. Tempus said goodnight and followed Gerald into his room. The sounds of the common room were dull echoes in the background, but it took little time for Gerald to fall asleep.

  He must have slept soundly for he awoke to Anna opening his door, or rather he awoke to Tempus barking when Anna opened the door.

  The sun was just coming up, and a thin stream of light penetrated the shutters of his room, casting their rays against the opposite wall. Anna and Sophie, both dressed for the day, brought Tempus down to the common room, while Gerald promised to meet them in a few moments.

  By the time he came down the stairs, Anna and Sophie were seated with fresh eggs and ham laid out in front of them. He was greeted by the sweet aroma of freshly baked scones, a particular favourite of his and Anna’s. He had first eaten scones back in Bodden and had immediately fallen in love with them. He could see the heat coming off the ones on the table. Sophie was spreading freshly churned butter across one of them as he sat down. He was mesmerized, watching her delicately spread the delicious topping and then, much to his gratification, she handed him one.

  He bit into the fresh biscuit, letting out a moan of satisfaction. Anna giggled, and he realized he was making a fool of himself, but he didn’t care. “This biscuit is delightful.”

  “Funny,” said Anna smiling, “I always took you for a bacon or sausage man. I thought I was the pastry lover.”

  He grinned back, “Well, I do like b
acon, and nothing beats a nice sausage, but these scones remind me of Bodden.”

  “Here we go again,” she teased, looking at Sophie, “another story about Bodden.”

  Her words were mocking, but her face was kind. Gerald tried to keep a serious face, but the whole situation was just silly.

  The food had disappeared from their plates by the time Ned came in from outside, letting them know the carriage was ready. They could depart whenever it suited them as the trunks were loaded.

  Gerald settled the bill using the funds from their coin box, and they made their way to the carriage. Anna insisted on tracking all their expenses, so they pulled out a small ledger they had brought with them and recorded the coins they had spent. They left the Gryphon’s Rest well prepared for the day’s journey, with a packed luncheon purchased from the inn.

  The first part of the trip was quiet as they all sat in companionable silence. The day was sunny, and the wet roads had dried nicely. The carriage made good time, and soon the rhythmic clacking of hooves on the cobblestones settled into a regular tapping noise.

  Gerald looked across at Anna. Today she was sitting with Tempus, who had his head laid on her lap. “What did you think of your first stay at an inn?” he asked her.

  “It was fascinating.” She had a gleam in her eyes when she answered his question. “I’ve never really stayed anywhere other than Uxley Hall. Are all inns like that?”

  “I don’t know about all inns. I haven’t stayed at a lot, but I believe the Gryphon is one of the nicer ones. I remember years ago I had to march to Tewsbury to pick up some soldiers that were coming back to Bodden. We were put up in this place; I think it was called the Rose and Sword or something like that. The place was horrid. All the men got lice and were scratching for weeks.”

  “That sounds terrible. How do you treat lice?”

  “You give them a Dwarf bath,” he replied.

  “A Dwarf bath?”

  “Yes, you light a fire using wet wood to create lots of smoke, and then you smoke your clothes. You stink for days afterwards, but it gets rid of the lice, or at least most of them.”

  Anna had a look of disgust on her face. “That sounds… terrible. But why is it called a Dwarf bath?”

  “Dwarves like fire and smoke and always smell like a furnace, at least that’s what they say anyway. I’ve only met a few Dwarves in my time, and I can’t say they smelt that way, but that’s the old saying. No doubt a Dwarf might call it a Human bath. I have no idea.”

  Anna was amused, and a smile creased her face. “I was a bit shocked to hear what that man thought of the king. Is he really a tyrant?”

  Gerald was not sure how to respond. On the one hand, he wanted to tell her the truth, but on the other, he didn’t want her to feel ashamed. In the end, he decided to be honest but tried to put it in diplomatic terms.

  “Your father,” he started, searching for the right words, “is a man of great power and responsibility. Kings often have to make decisions that will affect many others for good or ill.”

  “Is it true,” she interrupted, “that he held lavish parties while others starved?”

  He paused but then decided she needed to be told. “Yes,” he finally said, “I’m afraid it’s true. Your father, King Andred, is well known as an excessive spender, and a man who sets the finest table in the kingdom.”

  “I can understand,” she continued, “that he’s rich and would eat well, but to do so when others are starving just seems so… unjust.”

  “Wise words,” he replied, “but we can’t tell others how to behave, especially the king.”

  “If I was in charge,” she said with a determined look in her eyes, “I would only hold parties if others were fed first. Isn’t it the obligation of the nobles to look after the commoners?”

  He was startled by her observation, though he shouldn’t have been. He often saw the young girl and forgot her more serious side, and then she would surprise him with such an adult concept. “Those are wise words from one so young,” he said, adopting his wise and thoughtful face. “Where, if you don’t mind, did you read that?”

  “In ‘The Noble’s Obligation’ by Baron William Brandon. I think it was written years ago.”

  “William Brandon?” Gerald thought out loud. “Wasn’t he Robert Brandon's father?”

  “Yes,” she added, “he was.”

  The discussion soon turned to the noble families of Merceria, a topic with which Gerald had only a passing familiarity. He knew that Robert Brandon was the brother-in-law to Lord Fitzwilliam, for Fitz had married Brandon’s sister. She had, unfortunately, died in childbirth, producing Fitzwilliam’s only offspring, his daughter Beverly. Of course, Anna knew them all, at least by name. He found it fascinating that she could remember so much and yet she pushed him for any details he could supply, for she had never met any of them in person, save for Baron Fitzwilliam.

  The morning soon passed into afternoon, and once they had stopped to eat and water the horses, they continued on their way. The countryside here was very flat with farms dotting the landscape. Soon they were passing cows out in the pasture, and farmers were tilling the land, planting their seeds for the crops that would grow. The roadway was very straight, and it was when it twisted slightly to the south that Anna first saw Wincaster, its high walls seeming to erupt out of the ground.

  Wincaster was a large city, the largest in the kingdom, and the seat of royal power. Four main gates allowed entry, each named for the points of the compass. They were now approaching the West Gate, and the carriage slowed. There were other travellers on the road; wagons hauling goods, farmers coming to town, perhaps to buy seed, other country folk waiting to enter the city to purchase goods or maybe visit friends or relatives.

  He knew that the West Gate was the largest structure Anna had ever seen. To either side of the gate were large round towers and a towering portcullis that was visible in its raised position. Two bored guards stood to either side of the road, stopping each traveller, in turn, asking questions. More guards could be seen further back, closer to the inside of the wall, and at least two archers manned each tower. The line moved slowly. Gerald swore it would be faster to walk, but eventually, the carriage made its way to the gate.

  One of the guards came over to the wagon, yelling up to the driver, “Who comes here?”

  “A noble of the realm,” Owen responded, and Gerald heard the distinctive sound of a coin being flicked through the air. From his vantage point in the carriage, he could see the guard catch the coin in his hand and look at it. A quick “Pass friend” was uttered, and the carriage slowly lurched forward. They passed under the portcullis and entered the city proper. Gerald was rewarded by seeing Anna’s eyes open wide at the sight that befell them.

  “Welcome to Wincaster, Princess,” he stated.

  Chapter 26

  The City

  Spring 959 MC

  THE carriage rumbled slowly along the narrow streets, the two and three story buildings towering over it as it made its way through Wincaster. Anna had never seen anything like this before, and sat close to the window, peering out at the foreign landscape. To Gerald, it brought back memories of the filth and corruptness of the city. He did have a few good memories of the place, and so he sat silent, letting her enjoy her adventure.

  Anna decided she would like to go straight to the Palace, so they stopped the carriage to affix the Royal Coat of Arms to the doors. Gerald then waited outside while Sophie helped Anna change into something more appropriate. With all these details squared away, they were now ready to resume their journey.

  The road continued directly eastward, past the Great Library and Gerald pointed it out, for it towered over the shops that were around it. Anna promised to visit it later, but she was eager to keep moving. Once past the library, they turned left, heading north toward the Palace itself. The road was arrow straight and seemed to halt at the Palace entrance. The massive iron gates and high walls were easily visible some distance away. As the ca
rriage trundled north, the buildings became larger, with richly appointed spaces of green surrounding them.

  At the Palace, the road ended in a T junction with the road turning either left or right, both cutting across the Royal Gardens and to the wealthier estates of the nobles. Directly in front of them, stood the ornately decorated iron gate, guarded by two inattentive soldiers. As the driver brought the carriage to a halt facing the guards, one of them spied the coat of arms on the side and hollered something. One soldier turned and ran for the Palace, while the other, suddenly standing much straighter, moved quickly to release the latch on the entrance. He swung the enormous iron gate easily, for it was a well-balanced superior design. Owen eased the carriage forward slowly, leading the horses through a loop, bringing it parallel to the front of the immense building. The guard closed the gate, taking care to set the latch before returning to his station.

  They sat waiting, for none of the group knew what to expect. They were rewarded with a scurrying of feet as the front door of the Palace opened, and servants and guards flooded out to take up their positions. They lined up in a well-ordered manner; servants to the right of the door, the guards to the left. A meticulously manicured man servant stepped forward lightly to the carriage door, deftly opening it, cautiously swinging the door to the side. A young boy ran up behind him with a small step and placed it gingerly in front of the doorway. The elegant man stepped back and bowed deeply, allowing those inside to emerge.

  Gerald looked across at Anna, who stared back at him with a confused look on her face. “What do we do now?” she whispered.

  “We get out,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

  “Yes, but what’s the protocol? Who gets out first?”

  Gerald stared back. “Don’t you know? I haven’t the faintest idea!” He looked at Sophie, but she shrugged her shoulders.