Chapter 16.Join me.
Luca felt somewhat nervous as he left the mayor’s house under the protection of a heavy guard. The sun had long passed its peak but still shone brightly in the late summer sky. Edward walked tall and upright beside him, while Samuel and Nerina had been forgiven their duties and were to remain at the house to allow the latter to recuperate. Despite having it confirmed by Lord Romley and Nerina that Lord Elthan’s sister, the witch, was dead, Luca was surprised by just how on edge he felt as they slowly marched the short distance to the town hall. As if sensing his unease he glanced over to see Edward’s head moving left to right as if looking for signs of trouble, hardly looking like a man confident that everything was as safe as they’d been told.
Made from a dark coloured stone, the town hall was one of the larger buildings in Greensill. Though only single storey in height, it had been afforded a tiled roof and a set of good sturdy oak doors which were opened for them as they clambered up the three stone steps. The foyer, although not dark, wasn’t what Luca would consider well lit, although ample enough to see where everything was. There were several doors leading off left and right, but Luca and Edward were guided to the set of larger double doors directly in front of them.
Lord Romley, who was walking just in front of them turned his head, “All the nobles are waiting inside, Sire. I have guards all around the room, and across the dais at the far end. If you wish, I will speak on your behalf?”
“Yes, please,” Luca replied. In truth, this was just as well, because he had just assumed that was going to be the case anyway and hadn’t a clue what to say. While Luca suspected he would know the faces of some of the people, being as these were lesser nobles, unless they were wearing their house colours, he doubted he would recognise half of them. Knowing this was something he would have to learn and remember at some point, especially as these men were supposedly loyal to the throne, Luca stepped into the room.
Lord Romley turned to face him and held out an arm to indicate which direction for him to take. With so many soldiers close by, Luca was given little choice anyway and walked along the lefthand side of the room towards the far end. The dais was little more than six or seven inches above the floor level of the rest of the room, but he supposed it was sufficient enough for the purpose. Lord Romley had clearly been true to his word, as Luca thought there were probably more soldiers in the hall than there were noblemen.
As Luca took the only seat upon the dais, the soldiers that had escorted him in, lined up either side of him, leaving Edward to stand almost directly behind his chair. Luca glanced back to check he was okay before casting his eyes out over his expectant audience. It was only now that he realised this was probably the first time he had done anything like this. Sure, he had attended numerous events and occasions where he had sat in similar positions, but his father had always been the focus of attention. Luca was always the boy shoved over to one side, more there for show than for any actual purpose.
“I feel so nervous!” Luca said, leaning back a little in his seat so Edward could hear him and speaking through gritted teeth, almost forcing his face to smile.
“Just relax. You’ll be fine,” he heard Edward whispering in his ear.
Luca felt somewhat unsure of himself as he looked at all those eyes glaring back up at him. Probably about thirty or so in number, this must have constituted most of the north and western minor nobles of Brenthelin. If he could get these men on his side, then an army of thousands would be his, which is as it should be considering each and every man in the room was sworn to serve the king. Although Luca reckoned most of the men probably fitted between the ages of thirty and sixty, there were one or two exceptions. A man whom Luca thought must have been ready to drop and looked about eighty years old, he knew to be Lord Roston. A person who seemed to defy death, and had been around since Luca’s grandfather had been King. On the opposite end of the age-scale was a young man, probably no older than himself, whom Luca did not know. Moreover, when Luca caught his eye, the lad quickly averted his gaze, clearly even more nervous than even he felt at that moment, like a small fish in a very large pond of predators.
Lord Romley raised his arms to call for hush, and the soft murmuring of voices that had filled the room as Luca had entered came to a halt. All seated in the room, the nobles focused their attention on the nobleman standing before them, as Lord Romley asked for the doors to be closed, and that nobody was to enter or disturb them. Luca tried to keep his breathing steady as he could already feel his pulse racing and his palms sweating.
“My Lords!” Lord Romley said loudly in a voice that seemed to echo slightly in the hall. Ensuring he had their full attention, Lord Romley made the introduction, even though Luca suspected anybody present was in doubt about who he was.
“The rightful heir to the throne of Arandor sits here in this room, not in the palace. That has been taken by Lord Elthan and his son, manipulating the young princess to take control of our kingdom!”
Luca was somewhat surprised when one of the nobles shouted back, “How do we know this is the prince. For all we know he could just be some kid you’ve stuck in a chair, to convince us otherwise.”
The nobleman in question was quickly and somewhat harshly shouted down by those that sat around him. Luca looked at the man who had doubted him and gave a stern stare. As much as he knew these were testing times for everybody, doubting the word of a major noble and all but accuse him of trying to trick them into believing what he wanted was a step too far.
It was Lord Roston who stood and turned to the accuser, “Perhaps Lord Wright, you are a supporter of Lord Elthan?”
It was a reply that actually made Luca smile, especially as Lord Wright seemed to squirm as if feeling the entire room was turning against him. As people started trying to talk over each other, the volume in the room got louder. Thankfully, Lord Romley brought a halt to it all before it got too far out of hand, and called the room to silence once more.
“I will overlook that accusation this time,” Lord Romley said in a calm but stern voice, evidently not best pleased of the allegations being laid before him.
“Those that do not wish to swear their fealty to the prince should leave the room now! Go on, I will not stop you. But rest assured when the prince is crowned king I am certain your status as a nobleman will be shortlived after that!”
Luca looked somewhat nervously around the room, half-expecting each and every one of them to get up and walk out. After a short pause to allow anybody wanting to do so to leave, Lord Romley continued. Luca let out a loud sigh as nobody had seen fit to get up and go, not even the somewhat embarrassed Lord Wright.
“Very good. Then, one at a time, I wish for you to step up to the front and swear your allegiance to our future king. The nobles of Brenthellin are his to command.”
Lord Roston, the eldest man by far in the room was first to stand and slowly amble his way up to the dais, almost struggling to lift his leg up the small step. Luca felt like somebody should be giving him a helping hand, “Edward,” he whispered, nodding his head towards the elderly gent.
“Yes, Sire,” Edward replied, instantly knowing what Luca wanted him to do. Stepping around the seat and walking across to the far end of the dais, Edward offered an arm outwards. “My Lord,” he said, bracing himself for the nobleman to grab it and lever himself up the step.
“Thank you, young man…Oh, a Royal Guard…I thought you lot were disbanded,” Lord Roston said as he accepted the offer.
“I am the first of the new batch, My Lord” Edward replied even though he wasn't actually certain that was true.
Lord Roston shuffled his feet over to where Luca was sitting, before Edward, was again on hand to help if required.
“You may give your oath standing if you wish, Lord Roston,” Luca said noticing how difficult it was for him to do so.
“No…No…Sire, I will be fine…It’s the getting up part that I struggle with,“ Lord Roston said chuckling to himself as he slowly droppe
d down onto one leg.
As Lord Roston started swearing his loyalty, Luca glanced up at the others in the room who appeared to be forming an orderly line. Once the nobleman had finished, Edward offered his arm out again to aide the man back to his feet, and after a few grunts and false starts, Lord Roston eventually made it back up.
“Thank you, My Lord,” Luca said once the man had regained his composure, “Your pledge is accepted and most welcome.”
One by one each of the lesser Brenthellin noblemen took their turn to do likewise, each taking no more than a minute or two to do so. Once done, however, they were not permitted to leave but were asked to retake their seat by Lord Romley. When it was Lord Wright’s turn to step up onto the dais, Luca could tell the man was somewhat nervous about approaching. While he was certain there was no threat, Edward appeared to think otherwise, and had positioned himself right beside Lord Wright as he kneeled before Luca.
“My house swears its allegiance to you, Sire.” The man said, not even making eye contact with Luca as he spoke.
As to whether this was ever a man Luca could trust, he wasn’t sure, but there was just something about him that filled his mind with doubt. Edward remained alert until Lord Wright was actually off the dais and almost back in his seat, before retaking his position besides Luca.
Almost an hour had passed as the last noble to swear stepped up to the dais. Luca smiled as he noticed it was the youngest of them all, the boy who appeared to be similar in age to himself. Perhaps a little taller than Luca, the young lord was smartly dressed, although not wearing any distinguishing colours to identify who he represented. With dark hair that was neatly brushed over to one side and a rounded, friendly looking face, Luca tried to think who he was but drew a blank.
“I am Lord Felton, Sire,” the boy said in a soft voice that evidently had not yet broken.
Luca knew Lord Felton and was somewhat surprised by the announcement.
“Where is your father?” Luca asked somewhat confused.
“He passed away about a month ago, Sire,” the youngster replied looking somewhat saddened.
“Oh…I’m sorry…I did not know. Please forgive my rudeness,” Luca added somewhat embarrassed he had been so insensitive.
“That’s okay, Sire. As his only son, I am tasked with taking his place…although I must admit, I am not certain what I am doing.”
Luca smiled, “That makes two of us,” he replied, leaning forward off his chair and lowering his voice just a little.
“I’m not sure what to say?” the young lordling replied.
“Just say you swear your allegiance to me…and that will do,” Luca replied.
Lord Felton took a sharp intake of breath and uttered the words Luca had just asked, speaking loudly and clearly for others to hear, not that many on the room were actually listening. It seemed that the low murmur of chattering voices all but drowned out the young lord’s words to all but those within a few feet of their source.
“I accept your allegiance, and thank you,” Luca replied.
“Is that it?” Lord Felton asked looking up from his kneeling position, unsure whether he should stand and move along or say something else.
“That’s it!” Luca replied nodding his head and casting a warm smile.
“Thank you, Sire.”
Luca watched as the young lord made his way off the dais and walk slowly back to his seat near the back corner of the room. However, Lord Romley walked back up to say a little more and once more called for silence.
“You have all sworn your allegiance to the future King of Arandor. Now, we remove the imposter that sits upon the throne!”
There were a few cheers and claps, but it evidently wasn’t quite the response Lord Romley was hoping for. Luca actually understood why that may have been the case. After all, each and every one of them had now as good as sworn to muster their forces and go to war. While many might not actually see any fighting, if Lord Elthan decided to try and make a stand, there was a good chance some of those sat before Luca could lose men.
Lord Romley explained to those before him, that now things were decided, he and Lord Fallon would start moving soldiers onto Brenthellin lands from the northwest and west respectively. Lord Ashton of Muria would do likewise from the southwest and Lord Casley of Alnor from the north, all with the aim of liberating the capital from the forces of Lord Elthan. Those from the Easton Range and Scarwood were congregating in the south, leaving Lord Elthan a free route back to Endallen if he chose, thus giving him an option not to fight; although it was pointed out that this window of opportunity given to Elthan would only be a short one. Luca actually thought this was a good idea in that it would save lives, although allowing the man responsible for killing his mother and father to simply slip back to his home wasn’t something he was willing to let go. As if answering those very thoughts, Lord Romley then told his audience that, if Lord Elthan chose to retreat back to his own lands, then they would follow.
“Personally, I hope he does. I would rather fight him there and prevent the loss of innocent civilians in the capital,” Lord Romley explained.
Finding himself intrigued as to what the plans were, Luca listened carefully to what was said. Lord Romley even allowed those before him to ask questions if they wished, which many of them actually did. It quickly became apparent that many of the Brenthellin nobles were happy to let the major nobles take most of the risks, some even seemingly wanting to get away with supplying only a token number of soldiers. In a way, Luca felt angry at this, although wasn’t sure if there was anything that he could do about it. These were supposedly men loyal to him, yet here they were trying their damnedest to avoid doing much at all.
“I will have my family’s full retinue available to fight in your name!” Came a somewhat surprising shout from the back of the room.
Everyone suddenly stopped talking as the young Lord Felton stood up from his seat and reiterated his claim.
“I may be new here, but I have just given my oath to the king. I offer him every man at my disposal to get his throne back, and you lot seem to be bickering about sending a handful of men…”
As to where this sudden burst of courage had emerged from, it was evidently apparent it was soon failing as all those in the room turned Lord Felton’s direction. Noticing how the young lord’s courage seemed to be faltering, Luca made the rash decision to help him.
“Thank you, Lord Felton. You have shown true loyalty, and have already shown yourself a true friend to the crown. When I am king, I shall see that it does not go unrewarded.”
Although Luca was actually unsure as to how he might reward the lordling, the proclamation seemed to have the effect of changing one or two other’s minds. Several more suddenly declared many more soldiers than had originally been offered, having the knock-on effect of other nobles trying to better each other.
The meeting went on far longer than it probably needed to, and when Lord Romley finally opened the doors for people to leave, Luca felt a great wave of relief wash over him. Edward remained at Luca’s side as they watched the nobles slowly saunter out of the doorway, some alone, others in small groups of two or three. Bringing up the rear was Lord Roston, and left, still seated at the back was the young Lord Felton, clearly unsure as to what he should be doing.
“Edward…Can you ask Lord Felton to stay please…I’d like to thank him,” Luca asked.
Chapter 17.You’re not the only one.
Samuel and Nerina had seen fit to venture back downstairs and prepare for the evening meal and for Luca’s return from his meeting. With guards remaining in the entrance hall and outside the house of the mayor, they felt quite safe, although somewhat concerned that the meeting seemed to be taking much longer than they had presumed it should. Nerina, feeling remarkably better after taking some of the potion left them by the town’s physician appeared entirely refreshed despite her earlier actions; something that puzzled her. While her mother’s potions were good, there was something about the one the
physician had given her that surpassed even that.
While the pair were placing out the table in the dining room, a knock sounded at the main door. Knowing it was somewhat strange that anybody would be permitted entry, Samuel somewhat hesitantly checked the hallway to see if the guards were still on duty. Thankfully all was as it was supposed to be, and he hence asked one of them to open the door. Samuel was unsure why Bertram, the town’s physician, was standing in the doorway. Evidently, Lord Romley must have given the guards some kind of warning the man might return and allow him to the house, but as to why he was here again, Samuel was unsure.
“I’ve just come to check that the young lady is okay,” the man said peering his head through the half-open doorway.
“She’s fine…the potion you gave her must have done the trick,” Samuel replied, still not certain of Bertram’s intentions.
“I’d like to see her all the same…you know, just to make sure!” Bertram added.
Being quite protective of his sister and the fact she was a little different, Samuel’s initial reaction was to rebuke the suggestion.
“I’m afraid she’s resting at the moment,” he said trying to think of a suitable excuse.
Samuel watched as Bertram closed his eyes for just a moment before they flickered open with a slight glow. The unusual light from his eyes was only brief, all but momentarily, but Samuel was certain he had seen it. Bertram leaned forward just a little so he could speak a little more quietly and discreetly.
“No…She is standing at the dining-room door, waiting for your return,” Bertram said giving Samuel a wink of his eye just to let him know that he was quite aware he was being lied to too.
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