Heart of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  "I've never seen a line up this long before," remarked Anna. "How long is it?"

  "Let's go and have a look, shall we?" he replied.

  They descended the stairs and then exited the building. People in the line bowed and nodded their heads as they passed, though Alric paid them little attention. The line seemed to go on forever, and it wasn't until they turned a corner, two blocks away, that they saw the end.

  "There must be several thousand people here," noted Anna. "And most of them are commoners. Is that the custom here?"

  "Is what the custom here?" asked Alric. "That there's a long line of commoners?"

  "That people would line up like this for a noble?"

  "He was well-loved," explained the prince. "Surely you have such men in Merceria."

  "Very few," she admitted, "though I daresay Lord Fitzwilliam might command such loyalty."

  "Dame Beverly's father?"

  "Yes, he's much beloved by his people, though I don't think he would approve of people lining up to view his body. He's actually quite a private man."

  "Perhaps someday I'll meet him," offered Alric. "He sounds quite fascinating. How do you know him, if I might ask?"

  "He was Gerald's mentor, so I knew about him long before I met him. He came to Uxley, the Hall where I was raised. He was concerned for my welfare."

  "We have people like that in Weldwyn," he said. "They're usually working to their own advantage. He likely thought he could manipulate you. My father warned me about such men."

  "No," she objected, "he's not like that. He was only concerned for my safety. He's never asked me to do anything. He even sent his own daughter to keep me safe, and she's proven to be a loyal companion and friend."

  "You seem to collect those," he observed.

  "Yes, I'm fortunate in my companions. I wouldn't like to think how I'd have turned out if Gerald hadn't found me."

  They started walking back to the manor. "I'm glad he did," Alric admitted. "I didn't like him at first, but he's grown on me in the time I've known him. I shall sleep better at night knowing that when you return to Merceria, he'll be watching out for you."

  "Me too," she admitted, and then changed the subject. "Will we stand in line to see the earl?"

  "No," he said, "I'm a Prince of the Realm. We'll get to see him before they open the doors."

  "And when will that be?"

  "Shortly, I expect. They've been preparing the body all morning."

  "Preparing?"

  "Yes, they'll wash it and dress it in fine clothes for its display."

  "You keep calling him 'it'."

  "Yes, it's his body, but he no longer resides in it. Malin has taken his spirit to the Afterlife. What do you believe in Merceria?"

  "We must make our own way to the Afterlife where Saxnor will judge our strength. If we are deemed worthy, he will welcome us into his halls."

  "And if you are unworthy?"

  "Then it's to the Underworld with you," she replied.

  "But surely not everyone can be strong?" he noted.

  "Strength isn't just about physical power. A person can be strong of character or strong of heart and still be welcomed."

  "It still sounds like a very exclusive place."

  "I suppose it is," she admitted, "but it gives people something to strive for in their lives. A code of conduct, if you will."

  Alric mulled this over, and Anna let him take his time. They were soon before the manor and servants conducted them inside. Gerald was waiting for them, dressed in his armour, complete with helm and sword.

  "What's this?" asked Alric.

  "It is our custom," said Gerald, "that we say goodbye to our fallen warriors with honour."

  "He would be pleased," remarked Alric. "Shall we enter?"

  Gerald fell in behind the two royals as they strode through the door into the great hall. The body had been laid out on a marble-topped table which had been draped with the flag of the earl's house. His body rested upon it, wearing his chainmail and clutching his sword between his hands, its tip resting near his feet. His head was bare of helmet, but his hair and beard had been carefully combed. He had a look of peace to him as if he was sleeping.

  The royal party stepped up, standing before the body, gazing down upon it. Gerald watched Anna lean forward slightly as if something had grabbed her attention. She said nothing as Alric went to his knees to say a silent prayer. He rose and then moved off to the left side of the room, Anna following.

  Gerald stepped forward and gazed down at the earl. At first glance, the man looked like he was sleeping and Gerald marvelled at the skill with which he had been laid out. Knowing that Anna had seen something, he leaned forward slightly, examining things in more detail. He noticed the pale skin, understandable in a dead body. The earl's face looked painted, and he realized that the body had been coloured to give it the appearance of life. The eyes, however, had not been sufficiently covered and he spotted dark rings around the sockets. He looked down to the body's hands and discovered what had drawn Anna's attention; the roots of the fingernails were darkened.

  He stood up straight. There could be only one conclusion; the earl had been poisoned. For a moment he wanted to yell out, to tell everyone of the crime, but then he remembered where he was and looked to his left. Anna and Alric were waiting for him, but as his eyes met those of the princess, she nodded her head; she knew what he had seen. Once he made his way over to them, they exited the room. The doors shut behind them and Gerald made to speak, but Anna shook her head slightly to stop him.

  "Thank you, Anna," said Alric. "It has been a great comfort to me to have you here."

  "It was my pleasure," she said, "to be able to assist in this time of great loss. If there is anything I, or my people can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

  "I will," he promised. "Now I'm afraid I must leave you for I have much to do. The earl left no one in charge, so it has fallen to me to arrange things."

  "Has he no family?" Anna asked.

  "A son. He's all grown up now, but he's in the capital. Word has been sent, but it'll be weeks before he can return."

  "What about the funeral?" Gerald asked. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

  "He will be interred in the crypt once the viewing is over," Alric responded. "It is our way." He was about to leave but turned, unexpectedly, "Actually, there is something you can do for me, Gerald."

  "Certainly, Highness," Gerald responded.

  "I should like you to contact Captain Fraser. I'd like to address the soldiers later this afternoon. Can you tell him to assemble them? I'll leave the details up to you."

  "Of course, Highness," he responded.

  Alric nodded, then turned, striding away with purpose.

  "What was that all about?" asked Gerald.

  "He trusts you. He's known you for months. He's unsure how to address the men, he's never had to do this type of thing before."

  "He was there when we fought the drake," offered Gerald.

  "That was different," she replied, "those were his men. He's here now, having to follow in some very big footsteps."

  "Then I'll make sure he doesn't trip, Anna."

  "Thank you, Gerald. I knew you could be counted on."

  "What of the earl and his death?"

  "I'd like to discuss this with Revi. Can you find him and bring him to my room?"

  "Of course, Anna. What about the rest of them."

  "We'll fill them in later. I'd like to confirm a few things first, make sure our suspicions are correct before proceeding."

  "Very well, I'll hunt down the mage."

  * * *

  Anna sat at a table, quill in hand, writing out notes, as Gerald entered with Revi. Tempus, in his usual position beneath the desk, opened his eyes to view the new visitors then promptly went back to sleep when it was evident there was no threat.

  "Master Revi," Anna began, "please have a seat. I know you did all you could for the earl, but I wanted to hear from you what happened. Do y
ou have a cause of death?"

  The mage sat, unsure of where to start, "He was perfectly fine when I saw him this morning," he protested.

  "No one is arguing your effectiveness, Master Bloom," she said. "What can you tell us about his sudden turn for the worse?"

  "The servants took him to his room and laid him on the bed. He was very pale, his skin almost waxy looking. I've never seen its like before."

  "I see," observed Anna. "Anything else? Any unusual symptoms?"

  "His eyes appeared sunken, with dark marks under them but other than that, I would say no."

  "Your parents are herbalists, are they not?" asked Gerald.

  "Yes, why?" responded the mage.

  "We were wondering how much you remember about herbs," said Anna.

  "Why? Is this an inquisition? I had nothing to do with the earl's death."

  "We know that," said Gerald, trying to soothe him. "We just need to confirm something. Ever heard of Warriors Bane?"

  Revi leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin absently. "It's a type of moss, isn't it?"

  "How common is it?" asked Anna.

  "Not common at all," replied the mage. "In fact, it's very rare indeed. Why do you ask?"

  "It's poisonous. We think the earl was murdered," the princess continued.

  "How can you be so sure?" asked the mage.

  "The queen died with the same symptoms."

  "I thought the queen died of a sudden illness," said Revi.

  "That's what they want people to think," said Anna.

  "Who are 'they'?" asked the mage.

  "That part we don't know yet," commented Gerald, "though we had some suspicions it might be the king's mistress, but that seems unlikely now."

  "Might it be simple coincidence?" Revi enquired.

  Anna pondered the concept for a moment. "I think it unlikely that two high ranking people died within a year of the exact same rare poison, don't you?"

  "Yes," admitted the mage, "but what does that leave us with? Who would benefit from these two deaths? How can they possibly be related?"

  "I was wondering the same thing," admitted Anna.

  Gerald intervened, "Didn't Albreda warn about a dark shadow?"

  "Yes," confirmed Anna, "she said 'a dark shadow grips the land', but I can't figure out what that means."

  "I'm beginning to suspect," offered Revi, "that what we found in Tivilton may have something to do with it."

  "What do you mean?" asked Gerald.

  "Well, what do you think of when I say a dark shadow?" asked Revi.

  "Someone creeping around in the background?" said Gerald.

  "Yes. I think that someone, or some group, is trying to orchestrate something," said the mage.

  "To what end?" asked Anna.

  "Of that, I'm not sure," Revi responded, "but because of Tivilton we now know that Elves had dark magic. Could one of their necromancers be behind these acts?"

  "Isn't it a bit of stretch," asked Gerald, "to go from two deaths to Death Mages?"

  "But you admit," defended Revi, "that it's likely these two deaths were related. That being the case, we must find out how. What do these deaths have in common?"

  "We don't know," observed Anna, "but we shall investigate further."

  "What do we do now?" asked Gerald. "We seem to be at a dead end."

  "Not really," Anna said. "Whoever killed the earl wanted him out of the way for some reason. I'm confident that in the next few days we shall find out why. In the meantime, we must keep this to ourselves."

  "When you say 'ourselves'," asked Revi, "who precisely does that mean?"

  "My council," she responded, "that includes Gerald, yourself, Beverly, Hayley, Arnim and Aubrey."

  "What about Sophie and Lady Nicole?" asked Gerald.

  "Sophie, yes," the princess affirmed, "but let's not inform Lady Nicole, I'm still not entirely sure I can trust her."

  "Are you going to inform Prince Alric?" asked the mage.

  "No, I think it best we keep this to ourselves for now. The fewer people who know about it, the better."

  "What do I tell them, Gerald?" asked Alric.

  They were standing at the side of the practice field, watching as the troops lined up. The garrison of Riversend was larger than the small army that had defeated the invaders in Merceria, though perhaps not quite as large as the group that had marched on Eastwood.

  "Tell them what they want to hear," offered Gerald, "that usually works."

  "What do they want to hear?"

  "That they must carry on. The earl would want them to do their duty."

  "Is that all?" asked Alric.

  "Soldiers are simple men," Gerald explained. "They like to know they're doing their job, that they'll be paid and looked after. You look after the men, and they'll look after you."

  "Is that true?"

  "It always worked for Baron Fitzwilliam. I've seen troops that didn't respect their officers, it doesn't usually end well."

  "When was this?" Alric asked.

  "Last year, when we marched on Eastwood. We were crushing a rebellion. The Earl of Shrewesdale abused his troops, and they didn't take kindly to it."

  "How so?" the young prince enquired.

  "He didn't feed them properly. They rose up in anger, threatened to mutiny."

  "What did the earl do?" Alric asked, enthralled by the story.

  "The earl didn't do anything; it was the princess that solved the problem. She raided the earl's personal baggage and handed out food to the starving men. When the earl complained, she said he could take it up with her father, the king."

  "I should have liked to have seen that," said Alric.

  "Remember, keep the men fed and paid, and you'll keep them happy."

  "Anything else I should do?" he asked. "This is all so overwhelming."

  "Yes, talk to them."

  "I'm just about to," objected Alric, "that's why we're here, isn't it?"

  "No, Highness. I mean talk to them, individually. Not every one of them, mind you. Walk the lines, chat with a soldier every so often, you'll be amazed at the loyalty you'll gain."

  "And when do I do this?" he asked.

  "Right after you give them an amazing speech."

  "That's the part I'm afraid of. What if I say the wrong thing?"

  Gerald looked the young prince straight in the eyes. "You're a Prince of the Realm. You won't say the wrong thing. Soldiers aren't generally well bred. They're commoners, just talk to them like regular people, they'll appreciate it."

  "You're full of wisdom, Gerald," said Alric. "Thank you for helping."

  "My pleasure, Highness. Now let's go out and give them a show, shall we? Captain Fraser is coming over now, and I've got a standard bearer to carry your pennant as we walk. I assume they'll recognize your Royal Flag?"

  "Yes," admitted Alric, "all the companies of Weldwyn have one for occasions like this, though I suspect it's been dusty for some time."

  "Then it's time," Gerald announced.

  Captain Fraser halted in front of the prince. "Your Highness," he said, bowing.

  "Captain," Alric nodded his head, "shall we begin?"

  "Whenever you're ready, Highness," confirmed Fraser.

  Alric strode forward with great determination, followed by Captain Fraser and Gerald. He hoped the old warrior would lend an air of respectability to his presence. Gerald had cleaned his mail, sharpened and polished his sword, and now presented an imposing sight; a seasoned warrior.

  Alric stopped in front of the men. Five hundred strong, they raised their voices in a cheer for the young royal. He held up his hands and paused, waiting for quiet to descend upon the field.

  "Men of Weldwyn," he announced, "I have come here today to bring you sad tidings, for your beloved earl no longer treads upon this mortal earth."

  There were some grumblings among the men, and Alric let them continue for a moment before raising his hands once more. "Though we mourn his loss, he would have wished us to carry on. To once mo
re shoulder the burden of protecting this great city from those who would seek to do it harm."

  He took a breath. They were staring back at him in great anticipation. He felt the sweat running down his back and was suddenly speechless.

  "You're doing fine, Highness," muttered Gerald, "keep talking, it'll get easier."

  "The kingdom thanks you for your valiant service..." his voice trailed off. "I'm losing them, Gerald," he murmured.

  Gerald looked over to his right; barrels sat by the side of the field, a gift from Anna. "Almost done, Highness," he coaxed. "Just one more thing. See those barrels to the right?"

  Alric quickly glanced over and nodded.

  "They're full of ale for the men. Tell them to have a drink in the earl's name. They'll remember that for the rest of their lives."

  Alric nodded, and then continued his speech, "In gratitude, and in memory of the earl, we have arranged for you to drink to his honour."

  It was working. Suddenly, he had their undivided attention.

  "When your captain dismisses you," announced Alric, "you will exit to the right side of the field where ale has been provided for you."

  The troops broke out in spontaneous applause and Alric couldn't help but smile. "Captain Fraser?" he called.

  "Highness?"

  "You may dismiss the men." Alric turned to his left and strode toward the waiting barrels.

  Gerald followed behind dutifully while the captain called the men to attention and then dismissed them. There was another cheer as the men rushed to the barrels, filling the air with their exuberance.

  "I thought you were going to talk to them?" Gerald asked. "One on one, I mean."

  "And so I shall," promised Alric, "but I thought it better to do that while sharing a drink with them."

  "A nice touch, Highness," Gerald admitted. "You learn fast."

  Alric turned to offer his hand, "You're an excellent teacher, Gerald. I'm glad you're here."

  Gerald shook the prince's hand, "So am I, Highness, so am I."

  * * *

  As the last rays of the setting sun disappeared over the horizon, lights began appearing in the city. The noise of the evening drifted up to the wall, the sounds echoing through the air. The city was in mourning and Gerald watched from the walls as people staggered to and from the taverns and pubs.