Dark Oak

by Sannox, Jacob

  All felt the weight of this conclusion. All knew they were not just in the presence of a wife whose husband had humiliated her, but a queen who had been belittled by her lower-born consort. Each stood forward and either confirmed or added to the reports from Mary and Oisin, but kept their own findings succinct.

  Eventually all had spoken except one man – Lachlan’s squire, Rennan. As the noon bell rang out and echoed across the Maw, Rennan coughed loudly and stepped forward to interrupt more of the castellan’s postulations.

  He coughed again as the last chime of the noon bell rang out and stepped forward, shoulders back but a tremor shaking his whole body.

  ‘You have something to say, Rennan?’ asked Cathryn, fearing what was to come, for Lachlan kept as close a counsel with the squire as did she with Ailsa. Perhaps not quite as close, she thought, looking over the man’s figure.

  ‘I…beg pardon, Your Majesty. I had orders.’

  A collective sigh seemed to fill the throne room, and Cathryn resisted angry tears, blinking once, slow and resolute, as she faced the open north wall and the shadows of the mountains stretching away from the Maw Keep.

  ‘Orders from the Lord of the Isles, I take it.’ She did not turn back to him.

  ‘From the Lord of the Isles, Your Majesty. I did not intend to obstruct your will, Your Majesty.’ His voice was in vibrato.

  She stood suddenly and advanced on the open wall, leaning against a pillar. All stood silent as they awaited her instructions. When finally she did address them, she had forced a narrow, thin smile onto her features, the effect of which was far from comforting and did little to suggest either happiness or mirth. The castellan actually shivered.

  ‘My lords, tend to your duties and leave us to our business. I can trust to your discretion, people of Tayne?’

  ‘Of course, Your Majesty,’ said the castellan and shepherded the others out, leaving the boy Rennan quaking before the dais.

  Cathryn regarded him as he watched the floor, wringing his hands behind his back and took pity.

  ‘Come see the view,’ she said softly and after a moment’s hesitation, Rennan moved beside her.

  ‘See the world we have conquered?’ She waved her hand as though to underline the vista of barren rock and the scorched lands beyond.

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ He was too afraid to converse casually with anyone, let alone the queen, whom, he was afeared, would consider him a traitor.

  Her fingertips grasped his upper arm and his wide eyes were caught in the net of her regard. He shifted uncomfortably.

  ‘Tell me then.’ She smiled and this time, it was genuine. She felt no pity for this boy and did indeed consider him a traitor of a sort, but she looked at this commodity as though he was a badly invested coin that might return to the purse, but not bring friends. He was salt upon rotting meat. It was the fault of neither the coin nor the salt and she knew how quickly she could dispatch him if she wished. In not wishing to do so, she benefited from knowing she could show restraint and by convincing herself of her inherent goodness. She nodded encouragingly with an open expression and Rennan seemed to take heart.

  ‘Lord Lachlan told me not to speak until noon today,’ he said, searching her impassive face for a reaction. When he saw nothing, he went on.

  ‘The Lord of the Isles has decided that Lord Linwood is not to be trusted and intends to travel the Drift to confirm his suspicions and rally what support he can find.’

  ‘Alone, or as good as,’ said Cathryn. It was not a question.

  ‘He has taken his brother and Lord Belman, Your Majesty. He said to commit troops was to weaken areas that need defending. That this was his task alone. He said…forgive me, Your Majesty…it does not feel appropriate for me to repeat his words.’

  Cathryn’s lip curled upwards on one side and raised an eyebrow. Rennan shivered.

  ‘Oh? Tell all. I’ve not tossed you on top of the Maw Gate yet, have I?’ That snake smile once more, anticipating a barb. Rennan gave up all hope. He learned helplessness.

  ‘The lord’s words were that the queen would understand why he had to go. That she would see the wisdom in risking few on a thankless task. Understand that should he fall, the cost to the realm and to the queen would be but three men, who once stood amongst thousands.’

  Cathryn ground her teeth. Pain lanced up and down her teeth from the pressure. She released it.

  ‘You may leave.’

  Rennan released his breath audibly. Cathryn thought he might even have fallen back if he wasn’t so desperately working to maintain some semblance of courtly behaviour.

  ‘I did not mean to be disloyal, Your Majesty.’

  Cathryn continued to look out over the Maw, thinking for the hundredth time how ridiculous it was that the throne room looked out across such deprivation when the lush fields of the Arduan Peninsula and the spectacular, outstretched sea lay away to the south. She determined that when her business was wrapped up in the Maw Keep, that she would move to apartments on the south wall.

  So, Lachlan was indeed off on a jaunt and to what end? To vanquish Lord Linwood and then what? To clear the Wastes? To quest into the heart of the enemy’s stronghold? To strike at the belly of the beast? All noble ideas on a storybook page, but Cathryn lived in the real world. She landed a punch on the stone pillar, grazing the skin on her knuckles and splitting the skin in-between. Blood began to spread across the surface and she splayed then curled her fingers to lessen the sensation.

  You’ve known for some time that he wanted to go – that ruling was too much for him. Is this really a surprise?

  But even with the expectation, Cathryn was surprised. Though they had never been close or perhaps more accurately, as close as she was to Aldwyn, they had forged a strong bond over the decades. The love-making was regular and far from perfunctory. She believed she had always done her utmost to make Lachlan her equal. Didn’t that say it all? She knew that he was not her equal, after all. Lachlan was a distant cousin and Lord of the Isles with an inferior claim to both the thrones of Tayne and Culrain. He was considered by many in the Isles as the strongest, bravest warrior and the canniest commander. He was thought to be fair and just by his men – Cathryn had made her enquiries after the accident which left Aldwyn incapable of carrying out one particular kingly duty.

  ‘Your Majesty?’

  Not having heard anyone approach, the queen mouthed a silent yelp. Her aide, Ailsa, made her apologies. She was dressed in boiled leather armour and her long chestnut hair was tied in a long ponytail. By the look of her eyes, she had been crying hard. Cathryn breathed out hard, she patted her heart with an open palm.

  ‘You scared me,’ she laughed, but then saw that the girl was in distress.

  ‘Ailsa? Your eyes.’

  Her aide clucked her tongue against the back of her teeth, turning her head away and looking down to the floor.

  ‘And I thought I had washed away all signs. ‘Tis nothing, Your Majesty. Shall we dispense with our session today?’ Ailsa held out Cathryn’s weapon; the bastard sword was encased in plain brown leather with no ornamentation, as was the custom of the Combined People.

  The queen snatched the sword up and partially drew it, then rehoused and returned the blade.

  ‘I’m well versed in sword play,’ she sighed. ‘Less acquainted with dealing with headstrong, idiot men struck down by a malady of the spirit.’

  She walked to the open wall and, carefully, sat with her legs dangling. Between her and the ground there was nothing but air. Ailsa was more wary and moved slowly up behind her, her soft-leather boots near silent on the stone. She crouched then dropped down next to the queen.

  ‘I’ve heard many rumours,’ she said.

  Cathryn made no reply and, after a time simply looking at the profile of her crestfallen face, Ailsa too turned her gaze to the great vista before them. A sea eagle soared over the Maw Gate below and Cathryn’s eyes traced its progress through the air.

  ‘Lachlan has taken his leave of us,’
she remarked, ostensibly unmoved. Ailsa knew better.

  ‘For why?’

  Cathryn actually laughed and lay back on the cold stone, her legs still dangling over the edge.

  ‘The reason he gives or the reason I think to be true?’

  ‘Both, if it pleases you.’

  Ailsa’s head swayed suddenly as the wind rocked her and she shuffled back until she could lean back against a pillar, feeling relatively safe.

  ‘He’s off on a…quest.’ She laughed again. ‘What a ridiculous notion. And so distinctly Lachlan, don’t you think?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Mmm?’ Cathryn propped herself up on her elbows.

  ‘I’d hear more before I pass judgement,’ Ailsa replied. ‘He is your husband and my lord, after all. He’s done much for the Combined People, has he not?’

  Cathryn blew air between her pursed lips.

  ‘If ever I made a poor judgment it was in thinking my husband was fit to rule beside me. He is well-loved, he fights like a mad bear and, in truth, I love him well enough, but lordship over his house and his lands has done little to prepare him for higher responsibility. Ever he strives for peace in his own life. Ever he looks for meaning where there is none.’

  At this, Ailsa frowned.

  ‘I do not follow, Cathryn.’

  Cathryn lay back down and closed her eyes.

  ‘There is no meaning to any of this. We strive for domination over all. We have no concept at all of what we should ever do if all existence fell under our sway. Our ancestors claimed mastery over the old lands and built the kingdoms in wealth, knowledge and creativity, but did they ever think they had enough? The lust for improvement cannot be sated and neither can the desire to control one’s environment. Look at this monstrosity we now inhabit? Did it ever occur to whoever first considered fortifying this peninsula that it would only need fortifying if it were fortified? Who attacks a field? A farmer, perhaps, in a manner of speaking; or a bird. Not soldiers.’

  ‘A field might be invaded and so be fenced in,’ ventured Ailsa, thinking that Cathryn perhaps recognised malady in her husband because of a darkness upon her own heart, even if she did not acknowledge it.

  ‘A fenced-in field becomes a courtyard or a garden. It loses its essence. No, these monuments and cities and fortresses serve only as does a mound of gold that would serve better invested or in a vault.’ She laid one forearm across her eyes as though she was staving off a pain therein.

  ‘Lachlan knows it better than most, but it is not the duty of a king to ever acknowledge that all his endeavours and all notion of a realm are nothing but arrogance and power on the march. A king cannot admit that true happiness might be found in dividing his kingdom into equal patches of dirt and letting everyone get on with their own lives. The strongest families rose to the top of the pile and we battled on down through the centuries, increasing our lot, glorifying our needless deeds and creating strife in a world that, without us, would be at peace. I pity these scorched lands because of our return.’

  Her chest heaved and Ailsa moved to comfort her then thought better of it as the queen continued.

  ‘The damnable truth is that he’s right. I see in his eyes how he wishes to simply revel in the sunlight and ride through the grass; spend time on the beach simply watching the waves. Instead, I have trapped him in a cage of pomposity. And worse, my ancestors have set us all upon this accursed course for vengeance to the exclusion of all else; a course that has led us to being a better people than we were and yet by achieving its goal, are we about to undo all we have achieved?’

  ‘We have lived by meagre means, driven by necessity. Save for Linwood’s folk, we no longer build great stone fortresses or monstrous cathedrals taking their aim at non-existent gods in a barren sky. We have become a people honed for war and driven to survive – a hard and effective people. Yet when we lay down our swords after training, we live simpler and truer than did our ancestors.

  ‘When I see Lachlan standing upon the Folly battlements, I see him upon the palisade at Halflight Hold on Long Isle, looking out at the sea. He yearns for home, wishing he could spend less time being king and more time being Lachlan.’

  She sighed.

  ‘And do you wish you could spend more time being Cathryn?’

  She blew air between her lips once again.

  ‘Who is Cathryn? Who was Cathryn? Now I am queen, but before I was a princess - I was never just a girl. From the day I was born, I was an empty vessel that must be filled with responsibility, decorum, strength and dedication.

  ‘I have no choice where or how I live. I’m not sure I’ve ever even had one. My life and the life of the realm are as one.’

  She turned her head to look at Ailsa.

  ‘Being queen means serving a life sentence in a prison with bars made up of duty, rank, wealth, politics and tradition. The bars are unyielding.’

  Cathryn eased herself up to sit on her haunches, looking back out at the old continents.

  ‘What do you think it means to be queen? What gives me the right to control the destiny of all who follow me, Ailsa?’

  Ailsa was unable to break eye contact and her brow furrowed more with every passing second as her forehead tightened.

  ‘Well?’ said Cathryn.

  ‘…man is a brute beast.’ Ailsa whispered. Though safe enough in a familiar confidence with the queen, she felt on unsteady ground.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Cathryn, when Ailsa said no more.

  ‘Man is a brute beast - a predator. The strong establish dominance and the weak follow. Those who become strong challenge the dominant and topple them. The topplers become toppled. It goes ever on and there is no purpose to it.’

  ‘I understand all you say of your life. A queen is the child of a line of predators, handed domination and forced to oversee it. A simple girl like me has more freedom than you. I am free to squire or whore or shovel shit. You are queen, no matter what you desire. You watch over us and we don’t care why. We only know that you do. The way we are ruled is as much a part of life as are the forests, the mountains or the sea - unquestionable. We have no choice but to fight when we are told, but I believe that we fight all the harder because you represent a realm that looks after its own and does not allow injustice to go unpunished. We came for Awgren and you brought him down hard. I saw it with my own eyes.’

  A smile crept onto Ailsa’s face and her intense eyes twinkled at the memory of the woman before her dancing a brief, sweet dance with Awgren.

  ‘And,’ she went on, ‘you have won out. You have secured our borders. And now, if you so wish it, we might all have peace. You and Lachlan may go to the Isles and walk the beaches together knowing the darkness is gone.’

  Frost covered Cathryn’s heart at the suggestion as she felt the pain of something that would never be. She imagined walking along a sunset beach with her bare feet in the ice-cold shallows and her fingers interlaced with those, not of Lachlan, but Aldwyn – yet another man she had loved who had once escaped the Folly to be free of his duties and the pain they bestowed.

  ‘Perhaps Lachlan has more courage than me in throwing it all away.’

  But Ailsa shook her head.

  ‘Think not that he has not thrown it away, Your Majesty. Lachlan will return and perhaps he will return renewed if he finds what he is looking for. But I do not think it courageous to throw away inherited responsibility. Usurpers and dominators and dictators those of your rank may be, Your Majesty, but at heart we all know that you lead a dangerous life full of splendour, but little freedom and less joy. We pay homage to your sacrifice in following you. Not every man or woman could lead as you do or has desire to, otherwise why would we not frequently attempt to rise and cast you down? I am more than capable of fighting you and hurling you down upon the Maw Gate even now. Your power is nothing if not bestowed by those who tolerate your arrogance because they would not truly possess it themselves.’

  Cathryn’s mouth fell open and yet saw the truth of
it. Ailsa’s cheeks began to glow the colour of summer berries, but Cathryn laughed.

  ‘Well, I did ask.’

  ‘What will you do, Your Majesty?’ asked Ailsa, making an effort to show diffidence in her gestures as she stood, clasping her hands behind her back.

  Cathryn reached out a hand and Ailsa helped her to her feet. The queen crossed the room and settled into her throne, back straight and face impassive.

  ‘The lord will root out our enemies and ensure the safety of the Combined People. The queen will ensure the security of the Folly and oversee the old countries from her seat high above the Maw Gate.’

  Ailsa bowed her head then ventured,

  ‘And what will Cathryn do?’

  Cathryn smiled, thinking of her youth when as a princess she had sneaked away to wander the moonlit beaches outside the Folly wall, listening for mermaid song. It made her chuckle.

  ‘Who is Cathryn? I have yet to meet her,’ she replied. ‘Send word for the admirals. I want reports from all points of the realm.’

  Sometime later, the queen left her throne room and, a little after that, the guards at her door were stood down.

  ‘I relieve you,’ said one of the replacements.

  ‘I stand relieved,’ said one of the guards ending his shift. Both men visibly relaxed while their partners went through the same ritual.

  ‘Much been happening?’

  ‘High folk in and out all day. Generals, councillors, admirals…you name it. Much news of the Lord of the Isles about the place?’

  The replacement shook his head.

  ‘Not much new. He’s definitely gone though. Who knows where?’

  The original guards started to walk off down the hall.

  ‘Hey there,’ called one of the replacements. ‘Where did you fellows spring from?’

  The men halted.

  ‘How do you mean?’ said one of them without turning.

  ‘I’ve been stationed at the Maw Keep some ten years. Never seen you before…’

  The man still did not turn.

  ‘Came in from the Isles. Queen is adding to her household guard,’ he said, finally looking back over his shoulder.