The long day had felt like a whirlwind when Elisa returned to her room late at night and quickly fell into a slumber. A heavy knock at the door jolted Elisa awake. She looked out the window to see darkness and wondered who this could be. She opened the door and Lady Victoriah appeared. The lady pushed a handmaid through the door. The handmaid laid out a black dress and undergarments for Elisa on the wooden bench. Lady Victoriah entered and Elisa greeted her with, “Yes, my lady?”
“The time has come to rise. I had the seamstress alter a few dresses to fit you. We will have a special wardrobe crafted for you soon enough,” the lady promised. “I don’t understand…what is going on?” the groggy Elisa asked. “Your training begins today,” Victoriah said. “What training?” Elisa wondered.
“Your training to be queen, the supreme queen. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Elisa confidently stated, “More than anything.”
ALI-STER
King Ali-Ster Wamhoff emerged from a spirited meeting with some of the top lords in Fox Chapel. He had spare time before the council meeting and decided to go visit Neron. He found his easily scared cousin’s door ajar and kicked it open. Ali-Ster entered to see two naked men in bed, having sex. A much older, hairy man jumped from behind Neron to the floor. The older man hid while Neron scrambled to cover himself. Ali-Ster turned to leave and warned, “Lock your door, cousin.”
He pulled the door tight and walked away confused. Ali-Ster thought he knew his cousin well, but had never imagined Neron liked buggery. Neron’s father, Tersen Wamhoff, came down the hallway and asked, “Is Neron in his quarters?” Ali-Ster tried to stall, “No, I don’t believe so. I must speak with you, uncle.”
“Certainly, your highness,” Tersen said and the two moved to the solar and sat down at a table. Through the dim light, Ali-Ster spoke, “I have made the final selections for my councilors. I want to let you know that Ryen will be Falconer and you will serve as Grand Duke of Donegal. With your influence among the high lords, I believe this is the perfect position for you.”
“My King, I implore you to rethink this. My brother Ryen is a bright man but he doesn’t know the inner workings of Falconhurst. He has been away at war too many years to form the proper connections,” Tersen pleaded. “He has been away at war risking his life so that men like you can enjoy the spoils of battle and the comfort of feeling protected,” Ali-Ster responded.
The rest of his uncle’s face turned the same color as his ample pimples. Ali-Ster continued, “We fight off death so men like you can achieve a post like Grand Duke without ever serving to defend your kingdom. It angers me when I feel the lofty appointment is not appreciated.”
“Don’t misread my reaction, my King. I only act in the best interest of the realm, not personal advancement. I am honored and humbled by the nomination, your highness,” Tersen softly said in his sand-papery voice.
“It doesn’t seem like you are humbled. You know, uncle, this humors me. I know you dreamed of being king but it will never be and you need to accept your role in the family. I never even wanted to be king until you shoved my ass onto that throne. If you wanted a king you could push around and manipulate, Ali-Varis was your man. I simply find it strange that you put me in this position without even consulting me on the matter but now you question me on every choice I make.” Ali-Ster had been stern with his uncle lately because Tersen second-guessed all of his decisions and it was really getting on the new King’s nerves. “Look, I am sorry I put my hands on you at the funeral march. That was a regrettable decision.”
Tersen bit his fingernail and said, “I understand. I made a regrettable decision that day as well. Ruling a kingdom can put men on edge, especially a king, my King.” Tersen winked and left as his uncle Ryen Wamhoff entered and approached the poplar table.
“My King, you sent for me?” Ryen bowed. “Please sit, uncle,” Ali-Ster pointed to a chair across the rectangular table and his uncle obliged. “Good uncle, you have honored this realm with your service domestically and abroad at war. Your life has hung in peril many times in the name of Donegal. Today you will finally be rewarded. I have named you my Falconer.”
“My King, I am honored but I know little of the position,” Ryen cautioned. “And what do I know of being a king? All the knowledge that my father taught me? Hopefully we know more than Ali-Sander, Ali-Antone or Ali-Pharell when they each became king at the age of twelve. I would like to think you and I could return this kingdom to prominence. We can stand for justice and honor, such long forgotten principles. You are the most humble man I know and that is why you’ve initially shunned the position. You are worthy, the most worthy of being Falconer. Neither of us wanted this, but it looks like this is our destiny. We just need to keep Tersen from destroying the Wamhoff name. You should have left some sense for your younger brother,” Ali-Ster joked with a smile.
Ryen flashed his yellow teeth and carefully spoke in his usual, measured throat, “Tersen is harmless. He tries to bark loud because he has no bite. His mouth makes him feel like a big man. He tries to cover his many shortcomings with an over exertion of derogatory words for others.”
Should I tell him of my plan with Goldenfield? I know I can trust my uncle Ryen.
“We need to marry you off wisely. I had to do the deed when I was your age but right now we must find a powerful family that can help with coin and trained soldiers,” Ryen advised. “Let’s not worry ourselves about that just yet. Have you seen Ali-Varis? I have yet to see him today.” Ali-Ster tried to change the subject. “I have not, my King,” his uncle responded.
After a boring council meeting, Ali-Ster went to carry out a secret plan he had to win back the kingdom. He went to the outer stables and found the wagon he had requested. The horse-drawn wagon overflowing with food and bags of coppers was to the liking of the King. He climbed up into the seat and readied to go north, up the Royal Road. Ali-Ster’s guard, Terine, asked, “Are you sure you wish to go it alone, your highness?” “I must. I cannot take anyone. I’ll be fine,” King Ali-Ster assured his loyal protector.
The King gently whipped the two horses and they trotted along as the covered cart creaked under the extreme weight. He got a mile up the road and citizens started following the King who wore his fourth-day-of-the-week crown, made of silver and outlined with clusters of emeralds. He turned onto a road known as Rat Shit Road. The soft brown road could barely support his sinking wheels and led to the poorest section of Falconhurst called Kimberton. The nobles claimed the road was made of rat shit and it lived up to its name through the smell that assailed his nostrils; however, the smell was ten times worse when he entered Kimberton. When he stopped the horses, hundreds of filthy people surrounded the wagon.
A brazen man spoke in a deep voice, “What’s our pretty King doin’ in these dirty parts?” The King replied, shouting over the murmuring crowd, “Citizens, friends, I come in peace.” The citizens became quiet as their King continued, “I understand your anger. I share it too. I cannot undo the sins of my father but I can prove through action this realm will be different under my rule.” Ali-Ster hopped down with his people less than an arm’s reach away. “I share with my kingdom and not just with the nobles like our previous kings. Every single one of you here today is the soul of this kingdom and I am the heart. One needs the other to fully function and so too does our kingdom need all of us. We need to come together as a united Donegal, free of the petty squabbles and failures of our past. We must blaze ahead with blatant disregard for fear. To show my citizens I am a man of the people, I came without my guard. My heart is here, the heart of Donegal is here, exposed. If the will of my citizens would strike me down then have at it.” Ali-Ster stood with chest out and looked over his people. Death is part of life. They looked at him with reverence and the new King gained confidence.
“If you will approach the wagon, one at a time, I will share the goods of our kingdom.” The men and women started crying and screaming with joy. King Ali-Ster pulled the cover from the w
agon and got nervous that the people would rush the cart, until a chant broke out of ‘Long live our Noble King.’ He picked up a bag of coppers with two hands and shook it above his head. Ali-Ster shouted, “Each person will receive food and ten coppers apiece. I will also bend my ear to any concerns that my good citizens feel requires the king’s attention.” The lower class, the one all the nobles called savages, graciously received their share. The men and women bowed and kissed the King’s hand. The touched citizens thanked their King for the generosity. By the time the food cart and money bags emptied, Ali-Ster swelled full of pride in his kingdom. The happy citizens went back to tell the stories of Ali-Ster, the People’s King. He knew coming unprotected to Kimberton was a big risk but his love for the realm couldn’t hold him back. He towed the empty wagon back to the Capitol with hope in his heart for the soul of the kingdom.
As he dropped off the wagon, he thought about Queen Leimur Leluc. Even with uncles, cousins and half-sisters in Falconhurst, Ali-Ster felt alone. The only people he really trusted were his uncle Ryen and cousin Neron. He missed his mother and Ali-Samuel, feeling most betrayed by them. Ali-Ster planned to find them after he created the super-kingdom. No one would be safe from the Warrior King and Queen. He knew everyone would be clamoring for him to wed. He had to stall until he could get out of Donegal and into Goldenfield to find his proper bride, the Tiger Queen. Ali-Ster went to sleep that night with a renewed sense of hope.
He awoke the next day with images of Leimur flashing through his mind. She had dominated his thoughts all summer. He planned to leave by season’s end and sneak into Goldenfield. Ali-Ster believed the Queen would be so impressed by his stealthy actions that her heart would melt for him on the spot.
Ali-Ster broke his fast with manchet, eggs and spicy sausage, all drenched in honey from the cracked comb. He added a few sprinkles of salt to the runny egg yolk and dipped a piece of wheat bread into the bright yellow goodness. The fresh, fragrant sweetness of the thick, golden brown honey helped open the King’s eyes for the day ahead. Ali-Ster then went to Neron’s room. He knocked loudly and stepped back. Neron answered and lowered his head in shame upon eye contact.
“Hello, cousin,” Ali-Ster cheerily stated and entered the room. “Would you care for a game of chess?” the King asked. Neron just lazily shook his head, still avoiding eye contact. “How about fox and geese? You can be the fox,” Ali-Ster held up a wooden red fox to entice his downcast cousin. This produced a slight grin from Neron and the two sat down for a game. The geese were already positioned and Neron placed the red fox in its starting spot on the wooden board crafted with inlaid, tiled ivory for game spaces outlined in black.
“I’ll get straight to it. I don’t care what you do or whom you spend your private time with. I won’t say a word to anyone. I will say you better make sure your father doesn’t find out. These doors have locks; use them,” Ali-Ster warned. “Thank you, my King. I assumed you would be upset with me,” Neron replied. The King tried to change the subject, “It looks like I will have to avoid everyone trying to marry me off until I leave. Wait until they start in with you.”
“Still going through with it? I thought I had talked you out of it by now,” said Neron as he captured one of Ali-Ster’s marble geese. “Not even close, my cousin. With all five regions working as separate entities I still have progress to make before I leave. I released Duke Jon Colbert. That will help bring back revenue from Mattingly. Once they begin paying taxes and tributes again, we can afford all the grand ideas everybody seems to have.”
“You father left quite a mess for you to clean. Do you really think you will be able to leave by fall?” his cousin asked. “I cannot fix the realm in one season. That is without question, but once I unite the kingdoms, all problems will be solved,” Ali-Ster responded. The King let his cousin easily win the game and the two Wamhoff men left the room and saw their uncle Ryen in the great hall.
Ryen approached with a worried look on his face, “My King, there is a problem.” “What is it now?” Ali-Ster asked. “It seems Ali-Varis is gone,” his uncle answered. Ali-Ster asked, “Gone…what? What do you mean, gone?”
“No one knows where he is. Nobody has seen him since last night. I do apologize for not checking on the matter myself,” Ryen said. “It isn’t your fault. Where is Broem Endo, the man we pay handsomely to watch over Ali-Varis?” the King wanted to know. “Yes, well, it would seem he disappeared also. If he tries to ransom Ali-Varis, I will hunt him down and skin him myself,” his uncle promised.
Tersen came running up like a pale streak of fire. “My King, my King, have you lost your wits?” the agitated voice of the out-of-breath albino echoed around the empty room.
Ali-Ster felt instant rage at being insulted in the hall of his castle. “Not here, uncle,” he urged. Tersen wouldn’t have it and screamed, “Yes, here, right here. You let Duke Colbert free? Have you ever heard of a ransom? We desperately need the coin.” Ali-Ster had tried to keep the news from his albino uncle because of this very reason.
The King rushed Tersen and grabbed him by the throat with his large, powerful hands. Ali-Ster squeezed as he spoke, “If I tried to ransom him, Mattingly would come right up the Royal Road and put our head on spikes to parade around Falconhurst.” Neron screamed for Ali-Ster to let go but the King continued with his grip turning Tersen’s face beet red. “You know nothing of ruling a kingdom, so stay out of it.”
Neron slapped him on the shoulders, pleading to let his father go. The King looked into the frightened eyes of his uncle and didn’t want to let go. He finally relinquished his grasp and Tersen gasped for air. After a few moments, a calmer Tersen spoke, “I am sorry, my King. All this is tearing our proud family apart. I propose a day hunt, just the family. You, me, Neron, Ryen, Kryen and Tryen. It should allow us to escape the pressures of the realm.”
Ali-Ster relaxed a bit, “That is a good idea, uncle. Set it up and soon the Wamhoff men will ride again. Uncle, are you in?” he looked at Ryen. “I think this is a great idea, as well. We all need this,” Ryen confirmed.
Ali-Ster left the tense situation behind and stopped as he walked past the throne room. He went in and sat on the uncomfortable throne. I need to figure out how to rid myself of Tersen. Where can I send him before he becomes a serious problem? I feel so alone in this castle. I need to be back in battle, with my bride by my side. I understand the rules of battle, but it seems anything goes in the Capitol. A soldier would never question his commander on the field. Soon enough I will unite this divided kingdom and leave for Goldenfield to ultimately save the realm. I cannot wait until Leimur Leluc is swinging a sword next to me.
The light coronet embodied all the combined problems of the kingdom and weighed down his head as Ali-Ster stared at the ground. The ruling of the realm had already made his back feel sore and tense. The noble King thought about more ways he could help the poor to increase hope in Donegal from bottom to top. King Ali-Ster knew he needed the support of the common man to help fight the bigger battles the kingdom had ahead. He would need soldiers to fight for the Super Kingdom and conquer the world. The King decided to send out a call for arms throughout the realm to make the Capitol and Donegal as a whole more secure. He wanted to find out which of the men fought for honor and which for money.
A fortnight later, the King walked out of the castle and toward the stables for his daily delivery of food and coin to the poor. The castle surroundings had campsites set up for the visiting men. Word traveled as quickly as the knights and lords who rushed to the Capitol to nobly defend the realm. The King couldn’t pay anyone but provided food for the men. The volunteers respected Ali-Ster for serving his military duty and staying at war for two extra years. He earned and commanded more respect than his father had in over thirty years of rule. From commoners to nobles, everyone wanted to help Ali-Ster succeed. The King acted only from his heart and mind, not seeking approval from anyone else. He was looked at as the final hope for a failing kingdom and that pressure began to build
up, so he looked forward to days like today.
With droves of talented and honorable swordsmen in the Capitol, Ryen Wamhoff decided to host a mini-tourney. Under short notice, the lists couldn’t be fully balanced for a proper and safe tilt but there would be other exciting events. His uncle had hand-selected fifteen of Donegal’s best warriors to face off against King Ali-Ster in four separate contests of skill. He had the cream of the crop in Fox Chapel to choose from, and Ali-Ster looked forward to testing himself against these men.
He noticed Deydrana picking flowers by the stables. Her glowing brown skin and dark eyes appealed to the King as she smiled. She looked away shyly as always, but Ali-Ster approached her. He looked down at her full purple lips and dark, flowing hair with a scarlet begonia tucked behind her ear. “Yes, my King?”
“It’s a fine day, no, my lady?” Ali-Ster greeted in an awkward, nervous manner. “Yes, it’s a nice day but I’m not a lady, my King,” she returned. “You are a lady in my eyes. Have you heard about the tourney today?” he asked. “I have, I wish you the very best of luck,” Deydrana answered. “You should attend; it would lift my spirits to see you there,” Ali-Ster said. “Perhaps. I will see if Lady Antoris should allow me to get away,” she responded while continuing to pick the wild flowers around the stables. “I will talk to Lady Antoris for you. In fact, whom are you picking these flowers for?” the King asked. “I was asked to pick these for Lady Dellan,” Deydrana said as she stopped. “I will talk to her as well. You are going to come with me for a bit. You cannot refuse a king’s order,” Ali-Ster smiled.
He took her along to distribute the food and money. He felt like he could trust Deydrana enough to tell her about his plan for the super kingdom. Along the way to Lower Crunkville, the two talked about a wide range of topics. Just before the crowds started to rush the street, the King asked Deydrana if she would help him with one problem. She instantly said yes and then the pair became engulfed in the swarming citizens of Lower Crunkville. The people loved Deydrana, and the King listened as they voiced concerns over taxes and personal matters.
Fractured Families (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga Book 2) Page 13
