She was looking at him, and then the answer just sprung from her lips, “We can run away!”
He was surprised by the sudden outburst, but at the same time, touched. “We can’t run away, Anna. We’d never get very far. What do you think would happen if a Royal Princess decided to flee? Half the kingdom would be looking for us.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she admitted, “but I can still dream. I’d love to be just ordinary Anna, living the life of a free commoner.”
“I admit, it’s a nice thought, but best we put it to bed for a while. We’ve far too much to keep us busy, at least for the short term.”
“Alright,” she smiled, “but promise me you’ll think about it, even just a little?”
He nodded his assent, for he was too choked up with emotion to say it out loud. He had to keep his mind on the work, or he would fret over their situation. Perhaps, someday, they might be able to enjoy a more ‘normal’ life, but that time was not now, especially with the king’s coming visit.
At her insistence, he left her in the office, allowing her time to compose herself. He headed out into the hallway, making his way to the front hall, where decorations were being laid out for the royal arrival. He headed up the great staircase, hoping to have a better view of the preparations. At the top landing, he ran across Master Markham Anglesley. The young man was leaning against the railing, watching those working below. He held a goblet in his hand, swirling his wine around slowly as if he had a purpose. Gerald was going to ignore him but saw an opportunity to find out more about the young man. He wandered over to the railing and leaned beside him.
“Master Anglesley,” he greeted the lad.
The youth seemed rather bored but looked back at him.
“You’re the bodyguard, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, Gerald Matheson.”
“Shouldn’t you be guarding or something?” disdained Markham in a slightly irritated tone.
This time, Gerald resisted the temptation to bite back; diplomacy here was the answer, not confrontation. “So,” he said at last, “I hear your father wants you to marry the princess. How does that sound to you?”
Markham sniffed his wine then took a sip. “I suppose it doesn’t seem too bad. I suspect she’d be a bit of a frigid log in bed, but that’s what mistresses are for, aren’t they?”
Gerald was sure the look on his face betrayed his anger. “She’d be what?” he finally stammered as if he misheard the man.
“Frigid, you know, not very enjoyable. But I’d only have to do it enough to get an heir.” The youth smiled cruelly, “Maybe I could put a hood over her head.” He laughed at his own words.
Gerald snapped. He grabbed Markham by the throat and walked him away from the railing, pushing him against the wall. The young man let out a small yelp and then his eyes bulged in fear.
“Listen here, you little weasel,” Gerald threatened, “if I hear you say anything demeaning about the princess again, I will rip your heart out where you stand. If you treat her in any way that I perceive as rude or condescending, I will personally remove your manhood. Is that clear?” He had not intended to sound that menacing, but now he saw the look of fear on the young man’s face. “And if you utter even a word of this to your father, I will see to it that the new mage makes you permanently impotent. Do you understand?”
He had no idea if such a thing was even possible, but it had the desired effect. The youth gurgled a yes, and Gerald let go of him. He fell halfway to the floor, landing on his behind in a sitting position, his drink spilt onto the expensive carpet. Staring down at his handiwork, Gerald channelled all his hate and frustration at Anna’s predicament toward him. “Get out of my sight!” he spat.
Young Markham half crawled, half ran down the hallway, so eager was he to depart the scene. Gerald was shaking; he clutched his hands and tried to take a deep breath. He was worried; he had lost his temper once again and may have caused more problems than he intended. He turned around, ready to descend the stairs and saw Sophie standing there. She was carrying a tray with some food on it along with a bottle of wine. His eyes met hers, and he felt shame for his actions.
“It’s understandable,” said Sophie, showing wisdom beyond her years. “He had it coming to him, and I didn’t see anything.” She moved forward to pass him and stopped, “I think you need this more than the duke,” was all she said as she handed the bottle to him. She then disappeared down the hallway, heading toward the duke’s room.
Chapter 32
The King
Autumn 959 MC
THE king arrived with great fanfare. He was late, as befits a king, and was accompanied by far more people than they expected. The first sign of them was when a troop of soldiers, mounted on jet black horses, appeared on the road leading to the Hall. These were the King’s Royal Bodyguard, hand-picked knights who were the finest in the land. Their breastplates were highly polished and reflected the sun, sending beams of light in all directions. Gerald was not normally one to take note of such things, but even he had to admit they looked impressive mounted on Mercerian Chargers; massive horses and a breed only seen in this kingdom. The mere presence of one was said to inspire terror in the enemy. He had only ever seen one in combat, for Lady Beverly Fitzwilliam had such a mount. He knew first-hand they could be fearsome troops if used correctly. The thought was quickly driven from his mind as they rounded the bend and came through the gate. Following them was Marshal-General Valmar who looked more like a popinjay than an army commander. He was wearing a magnificent cape with a feathered plume attached to the top of his helmet. Gerald had nothing but disdain for Valmar but kept his opinions to himself. The other servants seemed in awe of him as he trotted behind his men.
In the wake of this ostentatious show, one would think nothing could compare, but the Royal Carriage was the most ornate and expensive in the kingdom of Merceria; in any kingdom for that matter. It looked as though the entire conveyance was embossed with silver and gold. Six black horses pulled the carriage, with six servants in fancy dress riding on the top. When it turned onto the estate's road, the servants and townsfolk in attendance gave a cheer. He could barely make out the face of someone at the window until it drew closer, then he was able to see a mature woman with dark coloured hair and a pale-face ensconced within. It could only be the king’s mistress, Lady Penelope Cromwell.
Behind the king came more mounted troops, mostly knights and men-at-arms, trailed by foot soldiers. Next, a legion of followers, including lesser nobles enjoying the hospitality of the king. The parade seemed to go on forever, and Gerald wondered if the other end of the line was still in Uxley Village.
The guard trotted into the loop, passing in front of the entranceway and halted leaving space for the carriage to draw even with the front door. One of the carriage servants deftly leaped from his perch to open the gilt handled door, and slowly lowered the fold up step.
The servants were lined up in front of the Hall. Anna stood in front of them, Tempus at her side, with Gerald slightly behind her. The first to appear from the door was a woman’s foot with a stylish shoe decorating it. The dark-haired woman descended the step, standing to the side to allow the king room to exit. King Andred the Fourth was a tall man, requiring him to stoop slightly as he stepped out of the carriage. Immaculately dressed in expensive clothes, his rich embroidered material glinted in the sun.
He held his hand out, and Lady Penelope clasped onto it as they stepped toward Anna.
Anna curtsied, and the king nodded.
“Daughter,” he said in his rich baritone voice, “I’m glad to see you’re well.” He looked around as if examining the Hall for the first time. “I see you’ve done an excellent job preparing for the festivities; I look forward to the hunt.”
As he was talking, Marshal-General Valmar walked up to the king’s other side and scrutinized the staff up and down. Gerald was worried he would be recognized, but if he was, neither the king nor Valmar gave any evidence of it.
“What do you think Valmar?” the king asked.
“Well done, Your Majesty. It seems the hospitality of Uxley Hall has managed to shine once again.”
The king looked at Anna directly, “Would you care to introduce the staff?”
Anna walked down the servant's line, the king at her side, making introductions. Gerald kept just behind her, avoiding direct scrutiny. He found himself walking beside Valmar while the introductions ensued; Lady Penelope had chosen to wait by herself. He avoided looking directly at the marshal as they reached the end of the line.
“And this,” Anna was saying, as Gerald’s attention returned to the task at hand, “is Master Revi Bloom, the new healer.”
The king looked at the young mage. “Healer, eh? How much Life Magic do you know? You seem a bit young.”
The young mage looked nervous but answered, “I studied under Andronicus, Your Majesty, I was his apprentice for years.”
The king turned to Valmar, “What do you think Valmar? Think he’s got what it takes?”
Valmar grimaced, “I doubt it Your Majesty, he still looks wet behind the ears.”
The king turned his attention back to Master Bloom. “Can you heal people? Have you managed to master that at least?”
Revi Bloom nodded, and the king turned his head back to Valmar. “What do you think; a demonstration?”
There was a rasp of steel, and Marshal Valmar drew his sword, and suddenly all eyes were on him. “Anyone in particular, Your Majesty?”
The king waved his hand absently as he said, “Doesn’t matter, you pick one.”
Valmar turned to view the servants. Each was nervous and full of fear, for no one knew quite what to expect. Valmar struck suddenly, thrusting his sword forward. Gerald felt it enter his stomach and instantly pain shot through his body as the blade penetrated, coming out the other side. He was literally impaled. His legs gave way beneath him, and he fell to his knees clutching his stomach. Valmar withdrew the blade and watched him fall back onto the ground. Gerald could hear Anna scream and could see the mocking look on Valmar’s face as he enjoyed the spectacle.
The king stepped forward to take a look. “I hope you didn’t kill him outright. Even a healer can’t bring back someone from the dead, Valmar!” The king laughed, and Gerald felt the life begin to leave him. He could hear Marshal Valmar laughing along.
“Come on, young healer, let’s see you in action,” the king commanded, and the mage ran across to where Gerald lay in a rapidly expanding pool of his own blood. Anna was there, crouching by his side, desperately trying to hold his wound, as if she could stop the blood from spilling out.
The mage concentrated and began his incantation, but nothing happened. He started again, panic gripping his face. Gerald's view was starting to blur, and the world was becoming unfocused as his lifeblood fled from his veins. He could hear Anna’s voice commanding the mage, “Concentrate, put all else from your mind. Ignore the distractions. Feel the healing.”
Gerald suddenly felt a snap; there was no other way to describe it. There was no sound, just a sudden feeling of… change. He could tell that something was happening, his mind cleared, and the pain began to dissipate. He could sense a transformation inside him as if skin and muscle were reattaching themselves. The wound began to close, and he blinked, trying to clear his vision. Revi was standing over him, covered in blood and Anna, who was sitting on the ground beside him, was still clutching where his wound was no more. There was blood everywhere, but the only other remaining evidence of his injury was the sword cut on his tunic.
“Marvellous,” the king said. “Nice to see magic at work.”
Valmar offered his opinion, “Too bad it didn’t seem to work right away Your Majesty. Perhaps the young man needs to practice his craft a bit more before he brings it to the Palace.”
“Good point as always, Valmar,” the king agreed. “We must make sure Mister Bloom has more time to perfect his art before we need his services.”
The king, still chuckling, quietly took Lady Penelope’s arm and entered the Hall, Valmar right behind him. “Good thrust there, Valmar,” he was saying, “you’ve developed a quite a good technique. You’ll have to show it to my guards.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Valmar answered. “I would be delighted.”
Revi Bloom was drenched in sweat but looked relieved. “I thought I’d lost you there,” he said, almost out of breath.
Captain Caster had come over and was now helping Gerald to his feet. “What kind of man stabs someone just to test a healer?” he asked incredulously. It was the thought on everyone’s mind. What kind of monster was the king?
Even though Revi healed him, Gerald missed most of the first day’s festivities for he had suffered a massive amount of blood loss and was noticeably weak. Anna insisted he lay down and rest, even putting Tempus to watch over him. Revi checked in on him several times during the evening, and even Cook came to visit, bearing him some special soup to make him feel better.
Later that night, Anna came to tell Gerald what had transpired. She was furious with the king, but when she had tried to tell him so, he wouldn’t listen. He spent most of his time flirting with his mistress and chatting with his lackeys. The guests included many nobles, and they all but destroyed the great hall, so dirty and messy was it by the end of the evening, Anna was convinced there had been a war enacted in there. She had needed to send word to the village once again, asking for help and even now, at this late hour, there were dozens of people trying to clear up the debris. She told Gerald that he hadn’t missed much and he admitted he was feeling much better.
The next morning the hunt began. There were dozens of horsemen, all noblemen, who were ready to chase down any deer that might cross their path. The king had insisted that Anna accompany them for it was fitting, he said, now she was a young lady, to learn what her future husband did in his spare time, whoever that might turn out to be. At this, Lord Anglesley spoke up, “Have you considered my offer, Your Majesty?”
The king turned to the duke and answered, “Give it some time Anglesley, she’s only just turned thirteen. Besides, I may have other offers.” The king looked knowingly at Valmar, who was mounted on a horse beside him and winked. Gerald paled at the thought.
Gerald was sitting on a horse beside Anna, Tempus between them. Their horses were from the Uxley stable and were used to the big dog, but the knight’s mounts nearby were nervous. Gerald looked on with amusement. The knights were well mounted, their horses big and powerful, but they showed a lack of skill at controlling them. Typical knights, he thought, probably had servants to look after their horses. A real soldier should care for his own mount. The sound of the horn drove these thoughts from his head. The hunt was about to begin.
The king had sent riders out early in the morning to track down the deer. Now they were signalling the location and preparing to beat the bushes to chase them in their general direction.
The riders surged forward in a mob. Gerald held Anna back to avoid the crush of horseflesh. He watched as the visitors rode forward in a haphazard manner tearing up the ground as they went, destroying the lawn and leaving nought but mud and clumps of stray grass.
The king expected every able-bodied man to ride, at least everyone who wasn’t a servant, and so Master Revi Bloom and Captain Arnim Caster were trotting along at the back of the pack. They fell in beside Gerald and Anna. None of the quartet seemed the least bit interested in the hunt, but the weather was unseasonably warm for the time of year, so they rode along at a comfortable pace.
The day's activities took them all over Uxley’s large estate but, thankfully, nowhere near the grotto, for its marshy land was not a favourite spot for deer. All morning they followed the hunt. Occasionally there would be a shout of triumph, and suddenly a bevy of horsemen would rush to one side hoping to get off a shot. The favourite weapon for the hunt was the crossbow; it was shot easily from horseback and required less skill than the longbows employed by the army. The quartet w
as, collectively, disgusted with the laziness shown by the hunters, for none of them bothered to dismount, to look for tracks or to sneak up on the prey. They would yell out and charge, loosing bolts with wild abandon. It was a wonder that people didn’t get injured.
As noon approached the king called a halt, and an army of servants began setting up a tented pavilion. They erected a table here and then served the food. Lady Penelope was not in attendance, having remained at the Hall along with the few other women that had accompanied her. Anna was, therefore, the only female in attendance, a fact that escaped the attention of most of the party, for they soon settled down into talks of female conquests. Gerald steered their small party to the edge of the clearing, and Captain Caster went and retrieved some food, which he brought back and shared. Tempus lay on the grass, Anna rubbing his belly, while the group quietly enjoyed their meal.
The luncheon finally complete, the horns sounded again. This time the mob broke into smaller groups, each going along different paths to try their luck. Gerald saw at least one group heading toward the grotto and pointed it out to Anna. They immediately rode to stop them, riding as fast as they could, with Caster and Bloom following along behind, unaware of the true nature of the problem. Once they caught up to the hunters, it was a simply a matter of informing them that they were headed for a swamp and fresh deer tracks had been found to the east. By now there were riders all over the estate, and so Anna suggested they make for the northern border. It was near the Sandlewood farm, and she suggested they might be able to water their horses there. They rode sedately, taking their time. The weather was pleasant, and the sounds of the hunt were far off in the distance.
It was Captain Caster that first saw it, a dark smear in a small gully. Riding closer, they could see that the runoff from a recent rain had created a slight depression. The ground was torn up; horses had been here at some point today, likely from the hunt. The captain called a halt, “I suggest you wait here, Your Highness, and let me have a look. It might be dangerous.”
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