Total chaos filled the crisp air as the lowest ranking citizens dragged hemp sacks of their belongings as they raced north. The King was relieved nobody had recognized him or it might have been a nasty repeat of the King Ali-Stanley funeral march. Ali-Tersen didn’t want to be clawed and quartered by the people he hated most in the world, the poor. He instinctually pulled the hood down, almost covering his easily identifiable red eyes. His royal following had been reduced to the only two people he believed he could trust. The bugles and bull horns raged louder and louder and Ali-Tersen’s stomach tightened.
“We must leave now,” the King commanded.
Sir Oliver gave him a blank stare and responded coldly, “You can leave whenever your little heart wishes. We leave when the Queen says we leave and not a moment before.”
Ali-Tersen addressed his wife, “My dear Alvyra, I love our son as much as you, but…”
She snapped, “But nothing. You say you love our son but the one chance you have to prove it, you want to run away. You only worry about yourself. I should have expected this with the way you handed away my kingdom so easily.”
Her kingdom? I thought it was our kingdom.
“You should consider yourself the luckiest king who can barely hold a sword. If Sir Oliver and I weren’t looking out for you, you would be dead by now. We will wait for our son until I give the order to leave,” Alvyra said.
From the hill, he could now see the bannermen of Jon Colbert on the southern city’s outskirts but his wife stood firm. The King was stunned but couldn’t utter a single word of objection. Ali-Tersen realized she was right. He was now a huge liability and a target. He knew there would be a hefty reward to deliver his head to the new King of Donegal to gain immediate favor. Ali-Tersen Wamhoff needed Sir Oliver and his wife but they didn’t need him to escape alive. In Donegal’s entire history, no king had ever abdicated the throne willingly. There had been several close calls of usurpers almost breaching the King’s Castle, but they all had been snuffed out. This was the first time a Wamhoff didn’t stand up and fight for his realm. What if I run back to the castle and challenge Jon Colbert to a duel? I’ll show my wife I can swing a sword.
“I’m afraid I have to say it’s time. We must go,” the Queen stated emotionally with tears streaming down her rosy cheeks.
They began to slowly roll northeast, just off the beaten path. Luckily, they blended in with the lowborn except that they were on horseback and everyone else was on foot. As his castle began to disappear behind him, the harsh reality finally set in. The impact of the situation began to crush Tersen Wamhoff, now former King of Donegal.
I ruined my family name. For what? Over four hundred years of the Wamhoff dynasty out the garderobe and into the moat. I let Alvyra turn me into a monster and I now need her just to survive. I was the King. I was the King.
B-RUXIN
Ruxin sped up on his brown destrier to check on the commotion ahead. His father’s loyal men had someone surrounded. Ruxin jumped down from his horse and moved toward the front of the action. He saw a knight, clad in white armor, and a short, fat, red-headed teenager.
The White Knight said, “Let the prince go. You may have me outnumbered but I could beat any of you in single combat.”
Ruxin spoke up, “There isn’t a living knight from Fox Chapel that could even beat a child from Mattingly.” All the men laughed at the insult.
“Prove it,” dared the White Knight.
“I need not prove anything to a white-livered hoddypeak,” Ruxin rebutted.
He loved to test his sword skills and the White Knight had unknowingly tapped that nerve. Being the youngest brother made Ruxin constantly eager to prove himself, which sometimes put him in some rather dangerous situations.
“Let’s say this; you fight me in single combat. You win, your Prince and you are free to leave and have all the badling fun you desire,” Ruxin said as his men erupted in boisterous laughter again.
Ruxin had heard of the White Knight. He had a dual reputation as a great swordsman and Neron Wamhoff’s sexual partner. Ruxin couldn’t believe that someone who loved men could be skilled with a sword. He also assumed that people in Fox Chapel were useless with a sword.
“My lord, you don’t have to do this. We have them grossly outnumbered,” Bryan Caughleigh reminded him.
“Men from Mattingly act with honor. This man challenged all of Mattingly with his words and I will represent our home with my sword. We don’t run from a fight and I will indulge his request for a fair battle. We all know the Gods would never side with this pair,” Ruxin said as he stared down his opponent. Mattingly and Fox Chapel residents never saw each other but both sides heard all the rumors from the enemy region.
Ruxin wore brown, layered, lightweight fibers of armor over his entire body and a silver war helm shaped like a bulldog’s head. His black surcoat with a golden bull’s head the size of his chest proclaimed his allegiance. Both men pulled their swords simultaneously, causing the surrounding men to back away and increase the size of the fighting area. Green grass below and a bright blue sky above provided a gorgeous setting for the deadly duel.
The Mattingly men worked themselves into a frenzy with spit flying from their mouths as they called for death.
Ruxin spoke from behind his lowered helm, “Alright, it’s pretty simple. You win, both of you are free to go. You lose, and the little Prince here, well, let’s hope he’s not afraid of the dark or rats for that matter. I’ll leave it at that.”
The White Knight turned to Neron and said, “If they don’t pull any tricks, I’ll win and we will leave in peace.”
“There will be no tricks. You must be used to fighting the cheats of Fox Chapel. When a Mattingly man gives you his word, it’s worth more than gold,” Ruxin assured the White Knight.
The two men faced each other for a few moments and the taller Ruxin was full of confidence. For only being fifteen, Ruxin harnessed the strength of a grown man.
A voice from behind Ruxin said, “You really don’t have anything to prove to us, Lord Ruxin.” I have something to prove to myself.
“Thank you for the concern, but I’m sure I’ll be quite fine. Enjoy the fight,” Ruxin screamed to the surrounding crowd.
The combatants tapped blades, signaling the official start of the action. In a flash, furiously moving swords collided in mid-air several times but neither man could gain an advantage. Ruxin quickly determined that this wouldn’t be an easy victory. Both men traded volleys back and forth but couldn’t land a significant blow. Ruxin tried high, low and every point in between to no avail. The White Knight deftly backed away like a dancer, ducked an attempt from Ruxin and spun around with a powerful side swing. Ruxin maneuvered his sword a moment late and the deflected blade of the White Knight rattled his bulldog helm and scrambled his balance. His hazy vision saw three White Knights with trails streaking from their bodies. All three men attacked and a pensive Ruxin blocked the wild strikes as the White Knight transformed back into one man. He tried to refocus but the White Knight kept up the offensive, not giving Ruxin a chance to get a grip on his blurry vision. Nervousness shot through Ruxin who hadn’t been up against anyone as supremely skilled as the White Knight. Ruxin had heavily underestimated his opponent and couldn’t find a vulnerable area in the White Knight’s armor to attack.
He noticed that the earholes and eyeholes in the White Knight’s helm were the only open areas. The two men sparred back and forth until finally Ruxin landed a strike in the White Knight’s protected left shoulder. To his surprise, the Dragon Steel ripped through the metal and pierced his enemy’s skin, causing blood to spurt out and spray the golden bull on Ruxin’s chest.
Amazingly, this injury didn’t seem to slow the White Knight down. Ruxin tried to land a few unorthodox shots with the flat of the blade to his opponent’s earholes but didn’t have any success. Everything he tried, failed. The knight anticipated his every move and Ruxin began to run out of energy. He had foolishly started the brawl at breakn
eck speed, expecting an easy victory. Ruxin had never been scared for his life until now. He thought about his wife and unborn child and wondered why he had acted so hastily to start this fight. The two men’s swords banged into each other again and the White Knight pushed Ruxin down to his knees. He tried to hold off his opponent but he knew this couldn’t last much longer. “Yield,” demanded the White Knight but only silence ensued.
The men looked on in horror as their leader looked to be on the verge of death. I won’t yield in front of the Mattingly men. I’d rather die.
Ruxin looked up into the eyes of death. He wanted to get a good look at the man who was going to kill him. He was surprised to see dainty blue eyes and a powdery complexion. A piercing scream came from the White Knight just before his tight battle helm filled with thick red liquid. The pale face of death was now splattered in blood after Bryan Caughleigh shoved a knife into the White Knight’s earhole. The lifeless man fell to the ground with the handle still protruding from his head.
“Who did this?” Ruxin yelled.
“I did, my lord. You were about to be killed. You were gonna lose,” Bryan Caughleigh answered.
Ruxin walked up to the young lord and grabbed him by the shoulder. “I was not about to lose. I was consolidating my strength. Even if I had lost, which I wasn’t going to do, at least I would have died with honor. There’s no honor in his victory. This can’t even be counted as a victory. I should release the Prince on principle alone. You’re lucky I don’t have your head for this, Lord Bryan.” Ruxin’s anger quickly disappeared when he saw his father ride up on his horse with a reddened face and pursed lips.
C-JON
Jon made his way through the parting sea of men and up to his son. He said, “We need to have a talk in private, now.”
He got down from his mount and dragged Ruxin away. Jon stopped and stared right into his son’s eyes, “You cannot be reckless any longer. You need to think about your lovely wife, your unborn child. How would I explain this to your mother and wife? What, I would have to tell them that only one man died in the takeover because of staunch foolishness? No, it seems you won’t be happy until you’re the bravest dead man in all the kingdom. We fight only when there is no alternative. Have I made myself clear, son?”
“Yes, father,” Ruxin somberly responded.
Jon could already see the remorse on his boy’s face.
“I did think of my wife and child, but it was after the fight had started, my King,” confessed Ruxin.
His son’s formality reminded Jon that the kingdom was his. “Let’s go see our new castle,” Jon told Ruxin.
The two Colbert men got back on their horses and headed for their new dwelling. Jon first saw the House of Eternal Light and the King’s Castle positioned behind it. Boisterous soldiers were screaming and pillaging until Jon Colbert yelled over them, “MEN, we are not here to destroy our own kingdom or its history. We came to end injustice through the realm and return Donegal to prominence again. All soldiers will be handsomely rewarded in the new structure of our shared kingdom.”
Most conquerors would have killed the men, raped the women and pillaged anything they could from the existing citizens. This was a civilized takeover in every sense of the word with very few casualties. The simple threat of the Duke of Mattingly’s power saved more lives than it lost. Jon rode down the Walk of Kings and crossed the bridge to his new castle. He didn’t need to utilize his mobile bridges to get across the Royal River. Jon was shocked that the wooden bridge hadn’t been set aflame in the evacuation. The new King trotted up the slight hill, through the open main gate and under the raised portcullis. He saw the fox decorations and thought, We will need to remove some of this foxy décor but I won’t destroy my own Capitol. We will write the history the way everything happened, not the way the Wamhoffs saw fit.
When he entered the castle, Jon saw what he expected, a messy scene portraying a rushed exit and a quick attempt to snatch up anything of value. About twenty or so castle workers were on their knees outside the grand hall. He got down from his horse.
Jon saw a man with a long, twisted moustache and asked, “You’re a count?”
“I am. Served this castle for over five decades. My name is Count Silzeus,” the man responded.
“I’ve heard of you, obviously. Worry not, good Count. I will need you to assess the current state of the kingdom,” Jon promised.
The man smiled and said, “I know who you are and I shall loyally serve you as I have every other king I have known. My king.”
Jon assured all the other workers that they were safe.
There hadn’t been a ceremony to officially mark his takeover but Jon Colbert was now King of Donegal.
He could hear his father speaking in his thoughts. My son, it will be either you or me. We will one day become king of this great land, but our rule shall be short-lived. My father prophesized that I would become Duke of Mattingly and I or my son would sit on the throne as king. It is our destiny. We cannot run from it, this is what the Gods have planned for us. We will make matters right in this realm once again.
Jon realized his father’s prognostication had finally come true and he hoped Jasper Colbert was looking down with pride from the heavens. We did it, father. You laid the groundwork and I followed. We did it.
Jon entered the throne room and saw various remnants of the hurried flight scattered about. Even the throne had been knocked over in the madness. His loyal men re-erected the heavy silver seat to a normal upright position. They urged the new King to sit down. Jon obliged and immediately realized the chair wasn’t comfortable. Out of nowhere, his chest tightened again, his face reddened and sweat poured from his chin. He became extremely dizzy and thought he was about to stop breathing. Jon could only see black and white spots. He heard voices; they sounded scared and prayed to the Gods for someone’s survival. Jon wondered whom they were talking about. His head and chest eventually returned to normal, but Jon felt like he had just woken up.
He opened his eyes; color rushed in and painted a vivid picture of grizzled war veterans hovering over him. Jon lay on his back, next to the throne, with concerned men surrounding him. A collective sigh of relief was released as Jon sat up. Jon’s men told him that he had fallen off the throne and had probably hit his head on the stone floor. Jon got up and sat down on his throne again. This time he didn’t experience any of the earlier symptoms. He couldn’t even venture a guess as to why he had blacked out as he rubbed the developing lump on the back of his head.
“My King, we haven’t been able to locate the Seven Crowns of Donegal,” Sir Rosebud reported.
“Keep looking. We will craft a new crown if need warrants. And this time we will only have one crown, not seven. The overindulgence and gluttony needs to be stopped for this kingdom to succeed. We will meet at first light tomorrow to discuss the plan to resurrect our realm; not my realm, our realm,” Jon said.
About an hour after sundown, the rest of Jon’s family finally arrived at the castle. Ruxin rushed over to his wife and gave her a kiss and hug. Jon put one arm around Camelle and rubbed his son’s cheek with the other.
“Not a single person on our side died. This was a great success on all accounts,” Jon proudly disclosed to the family.
“I’m still not sure. If people are willing to give up a kingdom this easily, there must be some serious problems ahead. However, I am pleased to hear that no blood has been shed,” Camelle said.
“I am already thinking about ways to make certain nothing happens to us while we stay in this castle,” Jon promised, even though he had already noticed some geographic defense issues that needed immediate attention.
He didn’t worry because Jon knew he had the manpower and resources to handle the problems. The royal couple tried to settle into the King’s apartments but Jon couldn’t get fully comfortable. He thought about all the corrupt dealings that had taken place in this castle and mentally vowed to put a stop to it. He finally got to sleep just before dawn.
“Pay it off,” the King said to his new Master of Coin, Enric Plast and the older man nodded in agreeance.
Ruxin spoke up, “Why are we paying the former king’s debts? I say we tell them to find Ali-Tersen Wamhoff if they want their money.”
“My son, when you take over a kingdom, you take responsibility for everything involved. That means we assume all debts. Right now, we have four internal armies coming toward the Capitol. Unless they all back down, we can’t afford an attack by sea. We now control the coastline from Bottomfoot to Waters Edge. That’s too much space to protect as we focus on the area around this very pregnable, so-called strong hold. I’ve already sent builders and masons with enough raw manpower to start the wall around the castle. We will start with the east and west. Lord Ichibod and Queen Leimur are reported to be closest. The bastard in the north hasn’t made it to the Blue Caps. We’ve already sent a welcoming party to delay their journey even further,” Jon told his staff.
“I suppose we don’t have to worry about an attack from the south. Unless your brother tries to attack you,” said Hydell Kenzy, his Grand Lord of Defense and everyone laughed.
“Our spies in Elkridge have spotted several ousted Wamhoffs camped out on the beaches. They are having a standoff with the bastard and employ an army of barbarians,” Jon reported.
“Are you saying that Ali-Tersen Wamhoff has surfaced in Waters Edge with an army of foreigners?” Lord Kenzy asked.
“This is where it gets interesting. They say its Ali-Steven and his son Ali-Samuel along with the former queen Emilia. Not the Wamhoffs everyone expected but these ones are more dangerous than that Albino King,” Jon said.
Six Heads One Crown (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga Book 3) Page 7
