The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1]

by Christopher W. Wilcox, Sr.

  Since they were once again alone, Swiftstalker filled his wine goblet and lifted it in toast. “To Prince Brightblade!"

  "Hear, hear,” said Duke Richard as he raised his glass. Rory toasted with his goblet of water.

  Chapter 5

  When King William and Queen Beatrice of Aluria rode through the valley leading to the town and keep of Westfell, they were struck by the beauty of the area. The trees still held their vibrant leaves of red, orange, and gold. There were autumn apples in some of the orchards. The fields were all neat and well maintained, with split-rail fencing to keep livestock from wandering into the ones under cultivation. The livestock was obviously well fed and contented for they did not scatter when the mounted troop rode past.

  The village was neatly laid out. The buildings were all sturdy and made from the field stones common in the valley; a gift brought down from the Kendrahl Mountains at some age in the past. They were aligned along wide, orderly streets and avenues, periodically broken up by market squares or stable yards. The streets were currently lined by the villagers themselves, all cheering and waving at their king and queen. A small girl, no more than five, darted out to run alongside the queen while trying to hand her a small bundle of wildflowers. King William leaned over and picked the little girl up, settling her on the queen's palfrey so she could give Queen Beatrice the bundle of flowers. The little girl laughed and waved at everyone as she rode with the queen the rest of the way to the keep.

  As they reached the drawbridge, Queen Beatrice signaled for Lady Bethany, her lady-in-waiting, to take the child so she could enter the keep unencumbered. As the royal party passed under the sally port, a fanfare of trumpets sounded to herald their arrival. The King's Own formed a double column behind the royals as they entered the keep.

  Entering the main courtyard, the king and queen found the entire staff of the keep turned out to greet them. The Duke of Westfell stood in front of the line of people on the steps, with a tall young man slightly behind him. As the king and queen rode up, the duke and his heir descended the steps to greet them. As the king swung down from his saddle, Duke Richard bowed and said, “Welcome to Westfell, Your Majesty."

  Rory hurried over to the queen's palfrey and held the bridle as General Gustav, resplendent in his best clothes, came over to assist her from her saddle. “With your permission, Highness.” At her nod, he lifted her from her sidesaddle and gently set her on her feet on the ground next to the king.

  "As strong as ever, General,” she said sweetly. “And who is this handsome young man?"

  "Your Majesty,” Duke Richard said. “May I present my grandson and heir, Rorrick."

  Queen Beatrice looked Rory up and down, then concentrated her gaze on his face. “You have your mother's eyes and nose, Lord Rorrick. How is she? We have missed her very much."

  Rory was too awestruck to speak and the duke responded, “Your Highness, I regret to inform you that Abigail was murdered about two months ago in the Great Forest."

  The queen was truly stricken by the news, and her hand flew to cover her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She turned her face against King William's chest, clinging to him for support.

  "This is ill news, indeed, Duke Richard,” said the king. “Do you know who was responsible?"

  "The men who committed the crime were tracked and killed by the Lords of the Forest, Your Majesty, after they had learned exactly who was behind the murder.” Duke Richard's voice was flat and toneless. “That person has since paid for his crimes."

  King William locked stares with Duke Richard, and their glance said they would speak more about this privately. The duke nodded his acquiescence.

  "Shall we move inside, Your Majesties? Perhaps the queen would care to refresh herself from the road?” The duke signaled to Mistress Margaret and she directed a couple of footmen to assist with the baggage. As the royals followed the duke into the keep, the household staff knelt as the king and queen passed by, then hurried to their stations to settle their prestigious guests.

  Mistress Margaret led the queen and her lady-in-waiting to their chambers, arranging for hot water to be brought for their use. Several of the younger chambermaids had been detailed to wait on the queen and her lady-in-waiting as personal maids, while the duke's personal valet had been assigned to King William and Rory's valet would assist the Duke of Kendrahl.

  As the ladies all went upstairs, Duke Richard led King William and Duke Armand of Kendrahl into the library. After pouring each of them a brandy, Duke Richard asked, “How was the road, Your Majesty?"

  "Why so formal, Richard? You have known us since we were small and you helped our father unite the kingdom, along with Armand here,” King William said.

  Duke William looked at the king for a long minute before replying. “Since you decided to listen to that whining, self-serving weasel of a chamberlain for almost six months. Only after receiving formal notice, written by my own hand I might add, that I had an heir did you act to stop him. How many people had he talked to during that time, ruining my reputation? How much of my wealth has he squandered while you waited?"

  "You are right, old friend. We did you a great disservice. You have every right to be angry with us."

  "Angry with you? No, sire, I am not angry with you. Years ago when I realized how you and Beatrice had manipulated Abigail so you could avoid upsetting Eastfell, then I was angry with you.” Duke Richard raised his hand to stop the king from speaking. “Oh, I understood why you did it, and I acknowledged it was a masterful stroke all while I was angry. Eventually, my anger faded. What I am now is very disappointed."

  "We knew you were smart enough to realize that we used Abigail shamefully. We were desperately trying to get Eastfell's ambitions under control and his infatuation with Abigail was a tool we could exploit. As you recall, we had only ascended to the throne the year before and were still trying to establish our control. Duke Eastfell had likewise just taken over from his father. Abigail and the chance to gain Westfell were too tempting a target for him. It was Armand who reminded us that if Eastfell married Abigail, he would control the largest army in the realm. We knew then his ambitions rose much higher than just Westfell; he wanted all of Aluria.” The king sipped once more from his brandy. “It was Beatrice, our sweet wife, who suggested the arranged scandal to discredit Abigail. Your daughter was innocent of the charges, Richard, as was Beatrice. We timed their ‘discovery’ to preclude that. It wasn't until years later that we found out about what happened between the time we had her arrested and the next morning when she was banished. By then, it was much too late to do anything about it except hang the jailers involved. In all those years since, not once did we hear from you. You avoided the court and shunned public life. We heard you had gone into seclusion at the Forest tower, and we feared our actions had broken your spirit. When that false chamberlain began his campaign of whispers and innuendos, it matched our fears and, to our regret, we listened. The arrival of your messenger was like a breath of clean mountain air. As much as we wanted to punish the man, we could not because we knew our anger was due to our sense of guilt and shame over how we had treated one of our most loyal subjects.” The king paused. “Can you ever forgive us, old friend?"

  Duke Richard looked at his liege lord and remembered the boy he'd watch grow up; the boy who was always underfoot while Richard, Armand, and King Roland had united Eastfell and Solange to the growing realm of Aluria. At one time, King Roland had suggested that Abigail be wed to Prince William, but that was not to be. The canny old Duke of Eastfell had made his daughter Beatrice's marriage to William a part of the price for Eastfell's submission to the realm. Now, as Duke Richard studied the man before him, he could see the toll the years had taken on his king.

  While the realm had been at peace for the past two decades, there had been much internal strife as Eastfell had schemed and plotted to destabilize it. Unable to collect sufficient proof to act against Eastfell, the king had spent his time trying to counteract the man's plots and stra
tagems. There had been rumors that Eastfell was meeting secretly with some of the Outlanders, although that never could be proven. Duke Richard knew King Roland would have long since separated Eastfell's head from his shoulders, but King William was not as ruthless as his father had been, partly due to his own temperament but mainly due to the influence of Queen Beatrice. She was, after all, Eastfell's younger sister.

  The queen was also another source of the heavy load the king carried. The trick used to discredit Abigail had backfired in an unexpected manner. The queen's barrenness was widely attributed to her fictitious sapphic leanings, and many of the king's councilors had pleaded with King William to put her aside and take a new wife. Thus far, he had refused and the king had no heir.

  The Duke of Westfell felt all his past issues with the king dissolve. He stepped across the room, knelt before his king, and said, “Forgive you? It is not my place to forgive my king. I do forgive my friend, however, and hope he can forgive an old fool who has stayed away too long."

  King William pulled Duke Richard to his feet and embraced him. “Gladly.” As they pulled apart, the king looked at his duke. “Now tell us about Abigail's murder and who was behind it."

  Tears rolled down Duke Richard's face as he spoke, his voice choked with emotion. “There were four men, all in Eastfell livery. Young Rorrick was off hunting when they came, so it is not known exactly what happened to Abigail. He heard her scream and rushed back in time to see them throw her body into the burning cabin. They rode off without ever seeing the boy. After he buried her remains, he left the Great Forest. At the time, he did not know Abigail was really his mother. He thought he was a foundling. She had assumed a disguise as an old woman and he called her grandmother. Anyway, the Lords of the Forest guided his steps to my tower."

  The king's voice was cold as he asked, “Did you arrange for Eastfell's death? We could understand if you did. The All-Father knows you have had ample reason to hate the man."

  "No, I did not. The Lords of the Forest hunted down and killed the men who murdered my daughter. While I had no hand in the death of Eastfell, I suspect I know who did and I will not betray him.” The duke's gaze was steady as he looked at his king.

  The king nodded. “We will accept that. Know that we are truly sorry for Abigail's death. We had hoped to make amends with her and explain why it was necessary to sully her name in the manner we did. We shall, therefore, make those amends to her son and your heir.” King William looked sharply at Duke Richard. “In all this, there has never been any mention made of the boy's father. It had occurred to us that he is the person you seek to protect. Is there some reason we would find objection to the man's lineage?"

  "No, his lineage is impeccable, although he is not one of your subjects,” the duke replied.

  King William was startled. “Not one of our subjects? Who would Abigail know in the Great Forest who was not one of our subjects?” The king's voice trailed off as he realized what the duke was saying. “We must meet your young lord and heir."

  "Before you do, I must speak plainly for once with no more fencing. Rorrick was raised in the Great Forest with just Abigail for company. In the past few months, he has seen her murdered, learned she was his mother, was told the identity of his father, and became the heir of this duchy. Throughout all this, he has been remarkably self-possessed. My people have come to love him in the short time he has been here, and you will understand why once you meet him. However, in many ways, he is still very naive regarding people. He is not ashamed of his heritage and freely admits to it. Time will temper that naivety. I ask your understanding when you deal with him."

  "Granted, friend. Now bring in your heir."

  * * * *

  Rory walked to the library door with some trepidation. Swiftstalker had refused to accompany him. The two members of the King's Own who flanked the door to the library reminded him of what Swiftstalker had said.

  "I wasn't invited, Rorrick,” Swiftstalker said. “You cannot come into the king's presence unless you've been invited. Those who try usually end up with about a yard of steel in their belly from one of the King's Own. When you get to the library door, tell the guards who you are and they will let you pass."

  He came to a stop about six feet from the pair of guards and said, “I am Rorrick of Westfell."

  The highest ranking of the two guards smiled slightly and said, “Pass, Rorrick, Heir of Westfell. The king is expecting you.” As Rorrick reached to open the door, the guard added, “Remember that he is the king, lad. Kneel before him and do not speak until spoken to."

  With that reminder, Rorrick stepped into the library. He heard the door close behind him as he stepped before the king and went down on one knee, with his head bowed. He felt the king place his hand on Rory's head.

  "Rorrick of Westfell, we confirm you as Heir of Westfell. As you have not yet attained your majority, we will not require your oath of fealty until you either come of age or assume the title as Duke of Westfell.” The king took his hand off Rory's head. “Rise, Rorrick, Heir of Westfell."

  Rory rose to his feet and stood silently before the king. Even as the king studied him, he studied the king. King William was not a tall man compared to the Lords of the Forest, nor did he have the broad heavy shoulders that spoke of hours with a sword. His long brown hair was shot through with streaks of grey, as was his carefully trimmed beard. The king's eyes were an odd shade of brown and green combined. There were creases in the king's brow and the corners of his eyes from both worry and laughter. His body was still lean and trim, befitting of a monarch just past forty years of age.

  "Do we pass inspection, young Rorrick?” The king laughed and Rorrick colored in embarrassment at being caught staring.

  "I ask your pardon, Your Majesty. I meant no offense,” he hastily responded.

  "Nonsense, no offense was taken. We could see that you were taking our measure just as we were taking yours.” King William slapped Rory's shoulder. “We like what we see in you, lad. Our queen was right. There is much of your mother in your face, although we suspect your height will come from your father."

  "Do you know Prince Brightblade, Your Majesty?” Rory asked.

  The king glanced sharply at Duke Richard and then said, “No, we have not had the pleasure of meeting the prince, although we once met his father. There has not been much contact between the Lords of Forest and the realms of man, Lord Rorrick. Perhaps you will become the bridge over which we may all travel to a better understanding between our peoples."

  "I am at your service, sire,” Rorrick responded. “I met with my father a few weeks ago for the first time since I was small, but he seemed a fair and reasonable man."

  "The Lords of the Forest have been called many things, but rarely have I heard reasonable being one of them,” said Duke Armand of Kendrahl. “Still, they have never broken their pact with man, despite the provocations posed by those who trespass in their domain. I'd rather have them as neighbors than some I could name."

  Duke Richard said, “Rorrick, this is one of my oldest friends, Duke Armand of Kendrahl. His duchy encompasses the entire range of the Kendrahl Mountains as well as the coastline on the far side of them."

  "How do you do, Your Grace? It is a pleasure to meet you.” Rory bowed his head in respect.

  "Well, the lad has manners, Richard,” the king said. “Lord Rorrick, do you suppose you could lead us to wherever the queen is hiding?"

  "It would be my honor, sire. If you would follow me?"

  * * * *

  Westfell Keep was ablaze with light. Torches hung in sconces along the inner face of the curtain wall and the exterior of the keep itself. The doors stood wide open as the invited guests from the town ventured inside. The large ballroom had been converted into a huge banquet room for the royal visit with seating for over one hundred. Candles burned in the large chandeliers overhead and in candelabrum set upon each table. The King's Own stood guard in their ceremonial finest, spaced evenly around the walls of the room, with a gr
eater concentration of them behind the head table.

  A trumpet fanfare sounded and the guard at the door cried out, “The King!” The assembled male guests all bowed and the females went into a deep curtsey as the king and queen led the processional to the head table. The guests remained in their positions until the royals arrived at their designated seats. The king and queen were seated in the center of the table. Duke Richard and Duke Armand were seated to the king's right, while Rory and Lady Bethany were seated to the queen's left. General Gustav was seated next to Duke Armand and Lord Swiftstalker of the Forest was seated beside the lady-in-waiting.

  The king first held out a chair for the queen and then seated himself. Once the king had taken his seat, the two dukes sat, followed by Rory and Lady Bethany, and then finally the general and Swiftstalker took their seats. Once the head table was seated, the king said, “Please, everyone, be seated."

  The assembled guests all took their seats with a low buzz of conversation. The women openly admired the queen's dress; her fair blonde hair offset the rich blue of the dress magnificently. Some found her plunging neckline a bit scandalous but realized they may have been reacting provincially since the lady-in-waiting was also dressed in similar fashion, although in a soft rose, which contrasted nicely with Lord Rorrick's dark green and Lord Swiftstalker's forest green shot with silver.

  At that moment, one of the Westfell guards came quietly up to General Gustav and whispered in his ear. The general looked startled, told the guard to wait a moment and moved over to whisper to the Duke of Westfell. The duke paused and then whispered to the king, who nodded. At the king's nod, the general signaled the guard.

  King William stood and the crowd, who had been following this quiet drama intently, stilled to listen. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have some unexpected guests. We ask that you stand and welcome them appropriately."

  The doors to the banquet room opened and the guard announced, “His Highness, Alaric, King of the Great Forest, and Prince Brightblade, his heir."