“Which room should we pick?” Alec continued in a humorous attempt to redirect the conversation and her anger.
“You know well and good it’s the big room. We’ve kept it ready for you since you left,” she pointed down a hallway.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said moments later as he stood at the door. Armilla scowled at him as he closed the door smiling. Minutes later he fell asleep musing about becoming a king, and contemplating what other people wanted, whether it was the people in the streets, or Armilla, or especially Bethany.
Chapter 21 – The Ceremony at the Cathedral
Alec awoke to see Armilla standing over him. “Get dressed and get down to the armory,” she barked at him before she stalked out of the room. Alec pulled on his dirty clothes from the previous day and walked to the armory, where he found his bodyguard already suited in protective padding. He sighed and sat down to pull his own equipment on, knowing that he was going to be worked over and pummeled in the course of the next hour.
Armilla’s first attack with her heavy sword was vicious, and Alec staggered back two steps as he blocked and absorbed the power she devoted to the bruising shot. Nothing got any easier thereafter. Alec began to secretly wish he could tap into his warrior ingenaire powers to protect himself, something he never did in practice, as the rain of strong, brutal contacts continued to push him around.
Every few minutes he would gather himself together and launch a flurry of jabs and strokes in a counter-attack that neutralized Armilla for a little while. But inevitably Alec’s arms would start to tire from the activity and he’d slow down, at which point Armilla would re-initiate her relentless siege and back him away again. At last Alec became desperate to take a break. “Whoa,” he called out, and stepped back.
“What? Quitting already?” Armilla asked in surprise and disgust, lowering her sword.
“No!” Alec replied, and started another surprise attack, one that aimed to put a stop to his humiliation. With all his strength he swung his sword at Armilla’s, knowing that he was leaving himself wide open to a damaging counter attack if his plan failed. Alec’s aim was good, and his anticipation of her reaction, an educated guess, was correct. His blade’s midpoint struck near the guard of hers, and knocked it from her hand, so that it went flying ten feet away.
She looked at him in amazement, and he could see humor glinting in her eyes. A moment later her large hand slapped down on his sword hand, and as she trapped it to the floor they both fell to their knees. Armilla lowered her shoulder and tackled him, knocking him back onto his back with her ending up on top of him.
“See, it doesn’t pay to try to cheat me,” she rumbled. “Don’t try it again.”
“I won’t,” Alec promised.
“Good. Now we’re slightly closer to being even,” she said, and she stood up, holding his hand and pulling him deftly to his feet as well. Alec didn’t look down, but he knew a number of welts had to cover his body despite the padding, and bruises were undoubtedly beginning to form. While their hands were still clasped, Alec sent a small stream of his healing powers into Armilla, to take away the same rash of minor injuries he knew he had inflicted on her. Their hands released instantly. “What was that?” she asked.
“Just a gift,” Alec said happily. “Now, I need to get back to the room to clean up and change and find out what we’re going to do today. Are you ready to go?”
They removed their protective clothes and went back to the residential wing, where Alec covertly healed his own injuries. An hour later Alec was back in the meeting room and others were gathering to resume the conversation they had started the day before.
“Our goal today is to try to begin to plan what comes next for Oyster Bay,” Ari began the meeting, causing the small conversations around the table to die down. “Bishop Kar may we plan to take Alec to the cathedral today for a ceremony to recognize his duty as the crown protector? It would hearten the people to know that he is back here among us, and has a role of leadership recognized by the church.”
Ari had clearly not prepared the bishop for his request, because the man looked very uncomfortable to be put on the spot with such a decision.
“We’ll bring folks like Rander and Rubicon from the palace to meet us at the cathedral,” Aristotle explained. “The Prelate’s bells will summon people, and Alec’s return will be announced.”
“What about the army? Should General Hewlett be invited?” Alec asked.
“If you so desire,” Ari told him. “All the people in this room and their followers will be invited, as well as the population at large. Just be prepared, regardless of who is present. Remember Alec, you will go forward as a very public person, and you will need to stay here to attend to the city and the Dominion. You won’t be able to go off on a personal quest again. It wouldn’t be fair to your people, if the bishop agrees to this, that is,” Ari added.
“I understand,” Alec told him. “I watched the Duke of Goldenfields, and the way he was always acting as a leader of his people.” Alec recollected his surprise at how quickly the Duke and his staff had put the Duke on public display after an assassination attempt. As he listened to Ari explain his plans, Alec better understood the hasty need for a leader to be seen in charge.
“I think this will be good for the city,” the bishop decided. “Yes we can do it; give me two hours past noon. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll need to go make the arrangements,” he said and he left the room.
Ari had notes sent to people throughout the city, calling them together at the cathedral, and other folks started to file out of the room to carry out various tasks in preparation of the public event. “We’ve got a little time now. You’ll need to prepare yourself, Alec,” Ari advised.
“Ari, how long have you been planning this?” Alec asked.
“Since our talk last night,” Ari replied. “I realized that you have been chosen, and we need to recognize that. There really isn’t any question of choice, Alec.” He spoke in a tone that indicated there was nothing further to be said.
“How many ingenairii are left?” Alec asked, seeking to relieve his growing nervousness by asking questions.
“We are so few, Alec, so few,” Aristotle answered with regret in his voice. “The coup attempt led to so many deaths, of so many good people. Your disappearing event managed to kill a few more, and I was happy to see them go, though I’ll admit that even I really don’t understand what you did. And there are some that I think just decided to sneak off, for reasons good and bad, so we may not ever have them back. The total number left is less than 100; and a few of those are out about the land, principally in Goldenfields, where about two dozen have become soldiers of a sort for the Duke. Back before all this began, we had more than 250.”
“How long will it take to build back up?” Alec followed.
“It depends. Probably a generation, maybe two. If you, or the eventual new king, promote more recruitment for the ingenairii, maybe less,” Ari hypothesized. “I’ve never thought we knew how to recruit and select appropriately. I’m sure there are people out there who live their entire lives with the potential, but we never find them to train them. Maybe a good healer ingenaire as the crown protector will inspire more people to consider testing their own potential powers.
“Ah, Alec, that’s a serious problem for another day,” Aristotle said. “You ought to go get a bite to eat and change your clothes and then come back here, so we can be ready to go.”
Alec stood up and looked at the doorway, where he saw Armilla was standing waiting for him. “Let’s go get something to eat,” he said, and Armilla walked beside him through the halls to the dining room, where several staff people were having their meals.
“This used to be where the nobility came to eat, and the staff ate in a corner of the kitchen, but there aren’t really any nobles left in the palace anymore, so the staff enjoys this,” she explained as they ate simple fare of cold meat and warm vegetables.
Afterwards she led him to the
wardrobes, where a seamstress hurriedly made temporary adjustments to a coat and trousers that Armilla insisted were suitable for the event at the cathedral. With those duties completed, they walked back to the meeting room Aristotle had told him to return to, and waited.
“You’ll do fine. Stop fidgeting,” Armilla told Alec for the third time in five minutes as he sat and waited. “These are your friends and supporters. They’re going to make this as good for you as they can.”
Alec understood and accepted her logic; but he still continued to feel nervous at the thought of being displayed in the cathedral to scores of strangers. The sound of the door opening drew their attention, and Rubicon beckoned for Alec to follow.
Rubicon had selected a score of guards to travel with Alec as an escort to the cathedral. They were waiting at ease outside the palace gate, but when Rubicon signaled to their captain, they were called to attention, and immediately thereafter began walking in a protective cordon around Alec down the center of the boulevard to the cathedral.
At the plaza entrance to the cathedral, a larger military force stood in rows. As Alec’s Guard approached, the other force silently parted, and the entourage walked through, and into the cathedral. Alec wondered at the efficiency that had managed to arrange so much coordination so rapidly; if Oyster Bay could still muster this level of effectiveness, the city could be easily restored, Alec thought. If only he could figure out how to inspire people, he chided himself.
Inside the great limestone structure, a group of officials stood waiting in front of the altar. Alec’s Guard stopped at the beginning of the aisle. “Let’s join our hosts,” Aristotle said, taking him by the arm. “Your majesty.”
Alec turned and looked at his friend wordlessly, then began taking measured steps along the wide aisle that spanned the length of the nave. People were packed in on either side, a far larger crowd than Alec had expected. He looked up at the triforium above the high windows, where beautiful paintings portrayed the journeys of Jesus and John Mark among the people of the land.
The Prelate stood foremost among the many familiar faces waiting for him, with Bishop Karst at his shoulder. He held his arms before him, holding a large white robe spread wide. Alec understood he was to allow the robe be draped upon him. Why did I let Armilla talk me into these fancy clothes if they’re going to be covered up, he irreverently asked himself.
As he stepped up and turned, the Prelate placed the robe upon him, stating, “These clothes of state symbolize the power to put our nation’s best face on, and our best foot forward, so that we may take pride in ourselves and the representation you give us. Let this robe remind you that you are clothed to be clean and free of human frailties, and are to rule with the wisdom that comes from a godly life, until the day comes that the Lord reveals your successor to you and the Dominion.”
Alec paused to consider the meaning of the words. The implications were much more profound than just protecting the crown. He was listening to a ceremony that invested him with the power of the ruler, something he didn’t want. He wasn’t interested. What’s more, he knew in his heart he wasn’t ready. Could he shed his failings and his weaknesses and learn to rule wisely?
His musing was halted as he watched Rubicon step forward to present him with the fasces. “This rod is the emblem of the strength that comes from many united to act as one. In your reign may you pull together the many factions of society, and the many parts of your kingdom, so that they grow strong by relying upon one another.”
Alec felt the solid weight of the fasces in his hands, as Rubicon released his grip on it and returned to his spot, maintaining a solemn expression on his face.
Rander stepped forward, holding the crown before him, and approached Alec with measured steps. As he stretched out his arms to place the crown in Alec’s hands, he spoke loudly, “This crown symbolizes God’s anointment to act in the interest of his people. May it shine brightly while in your care, to reflect your good judgment and actions as we await the revelation of the new heir to the throne.”
He too returned to the group that stood before Alec. Alec was thankful that he at least had acknowledged the hidden heir who would supplant Alec; this crowd needed to be reminded that Alec’s role was temporary. Aristotle allowed the silence to reverberate through the open space, interrupted only by the sound of shuffling feet as more and more people came into the cathedral to witness the unexpected investment of authority.
“Alec is the crown protector of the Dominion. He has returned from a pilgrimage that was set for him in a vision, and he is here now to restore the rule of law, and to provide protection to the people and the land,” Ari paused for a moment. “It has been said that the hands of a king carry a healing power, and never was that your reige true than with this ruler. Not only is he here now to heal the Dominion and the city while he holds his office, but he has the power to heal his people. Let those who are ill come back to this cathedral tomorrow morning, and the morning a week after that, and the week after that and the week after that, to let the protector strengthen and serve his people in the most humble of fashions by treating their ills.”
“Now, Alec shall confer with the Prelate and then take his leave to return to his palace. As head of the Ingenairii Council, I pledge our support for Alec’s service on the throne.”
The Prelate stepped forward, and Alec beckoned for him to approach closer. “What does your majesty wish to discuss?” the Prelate asked Alec.
“I’ll be darned if I know,” Alec said with a slight grin. “I didn’t know what was going to happen here, let alone that Ari was going to say that part. I would like to hear anything you have to tell me about how to bring peace to the city quickly though, if you have any ideas,” Alec admitted.
Together they turned, and as they began to walk from the altar towards the offices in the buildings behind the cathedral, the crowd inside the building began to cheer, and as if on cue, the bells in the tower above began to ring. Aristotle motioned towards the leaders, and a half dozen detached themselves to follow behind Alec and the Prelate.
Minutes later they sat down at a table in a large meeting room. “I am not sure what to say,” Alec began, as everyone looked at him.
“You all have been ruling here in the city for the past several months, while I have been absent. The autumn harvest will be coming in soon,” he remembered the importance the Duke of Goldenfields had placed on the farmers, and he thought of the need to feed the city during the winter. “We need to make sure the fruits of the harvest reach our city and are stored where the merchants and the public will have access. But,” he said looking around at the puzzled faces, “I suppose that is a secondary problem to bringing peace to the city immediately. Would each of you around the table tell me what we need to do to make this city work again?”
Rander, sitting on Alec’s right, began. “We are glad to have you back. I know I’m glad to have you back,” the steward said to a round of polite chuckles. “You need to put men to work in the city, so they start earning wages again, and so they don’t have idle time to cause trouble.”
Brannis sat next to Rander. “You ought to send the Palace Guard out into the streets to put some of the ruffians behind bars. Better yet, you ought to shorten all the criminals by a head so you don’t have to pay to feed them all in jail,” he said.
“That’s true enough, you’ve hardly got any money,” Rubicon added. “General Hewlett reports that we have some troops who haven’t been paid in several weeks, and some of our suppliers are threatening to cut off the credit to the army. I can’t blame them either; no one can carry that much bad debt for very long.”
“Why are we so short of money?” Alec asked.
Well, you don’t have a chancellor to handle things properly for one thing,” Aristotle said. “And the crown relies on trade levies to raise a lot of funds, plus some taxes on the commons and the nobles. But there’s less trade, and the nobles are fleeing or simply refusing to pay their taxes, so you have less money to sp
end.”
“Father, do you have anything to add?” Alec asked, looking to his left.
“Actually, although Oyster Bay, Goldenfields, Stronghold, and to a lesser extent Bondell are all suffering, most of the other cities in the Dominion do not seem to be reporting such troubles. The lack of trade, caused by the problems in the big cities, is creating some woes in the rest of the Dominion, but if you can straighten out those three or four issues, I believe the rest of the of the problems will improve,” he reported, based on the regular communications he received from churches throughout the Dominion. Other suggested actions came forth, to dredge the river, to repair the city walls, to weed out opponents. Alec let the flow of items continue for several minutes.
“Thank you all,” Alec said, rising, with everyone else promptly rising as well. “You’ve given me much to think about. Shall we go to the palace now?” he asked Rander. “I think it’s important that we immediately get to work to try to resolve the issues plaguing the Dominion.” Turning toward Aristotle, “Will you please come with us, at least for a little while more?” he asked.
They walked outside and mounted horses. Alec’s mind suddenly wandered back to the night before. “Is Tritos seeing Bethany?” he asked Aristotle, remembering the profile he had seen with the female water ingenaire last night.
“I believe he is,” Aristotle said, and then said no more about the subject.
Alec brooded over the matter for part of the ride to the palace, but as the walls of the royal compound came into view, his thoughts shifted to other matters. He called over the leader of the forces from Slone, who had remained in service to the city during the months of Alec’s absence.
“Marshall, when we spoke last time I was here, I told you I intended to send forces to help battle the lacertii in eastern Goldenfields,” Alec began. “Now I intend to keep that pledge. I know your forces have been away from home already for a longer time that some may have expected. So I have a proposition to make.”
The Lifesaving Power: Goldenfields and Stronghold Page 20
