by K. J. Hargan
Chapter Fourteen
Rogar Li
Yulenth woke with the morning rays. Alrhett was still sound asleep behind him in the bowels of the sheltering, hollow oak. The morning sun was warm and drying. Yulenth stretched with aches and grunts.
Yulenth thought about the strangeness of the last night, the fight at Rion Ta, the kidnapping of Frea, how he had saved the elf from the prison of purple lightning, how they had been tracking their grandson Arnwylf through the Weald with the white wolf, and how the wolf had left them alone in the raining night to chase some shadowy monster.
He pulled himself out of the oak and gently shook his wife.
“Time to go,” he softly said.
Alrhett’s eyes fluttered open as if she were dreaming of their soft, safe bed in Bittel. But then the past day's events flooded in on her and she looked around like a cornered animal.
“It’s all right,” Yulenth said with a smile, and helped her out of the hollow of the oak.
“Did Conniker return?” She asked with a yawn. Yulenth scanned the nearby trees and bushes.
“No sign of him,” he said.
“I guess we should find the Bairn River and follow it east to the Three Bridges. We’re bound to find the boy along the way,” Alrhett said stretching.
“Right,” Yulenth said, turning, surveying the leafless Weald sprawling out in all directions. “The morning sun is there. That is the east. Hmmmm,” Yulenth bobbed his head up and down. “I don’t know where we are. I guess we just go south until we reach the Bairn River.”
“Sounds sensible,” Alrhett agreed.
The two of them, Yulenth, swinging his sword at brambles that blocked the way, and Alrhett, using her spear as a staff, made their way south.
A chilly, late autumn wind whispered through the bare, black branches. The massive oaks of the Weald had all dropped their leaves. They crunched underfoot, and obscured paths through the forest. The pines, so thick two men holding hands couldn’t reach around them, were still dark green, but their bark was silvery, flaking and dry.
“Not much rain all year,” Yulenth said, taking in the old growth forest. “But we got soaked last night.”
As they crunched through dark orange bracken, dead for the old year, Alrhett said, “Do you know what the word ‘Weald’ means?”
“It’s a derived from an old word, isn’t it?” Yulenth said.
“It means ‘wild’,” Alrhett said, leaning on her spear as she picked through the tangled, dry brush.
“Wild! Describes it perfectly,” Yulenth laughed. “But I wonder why the whole, from Reia, to the Northern Kingdom, down to the Madrun Hills is called Wealdland?”
“Probably,” Alrhett said, “because the Weald is the first place you come to once you’ve crossed Byland.”
“But the first place you come to is Harvestley, and that’s flat, open farmland,” Yulenth huffed.
“Well,” Alrhett said, “It was once thick forest like this. But humans cut down all the trees to grow crops. So it was part of the Weald.”
“I wish we were in flat, open farmland right now,” Yulenth said scratching his head. “Because I think we’re lost. We should have reached the river by now.” Yulenth peered up at the late morning sun, shaded by the snaking tangles of branches of towering, leafless oaks and elms. “Do you have any idea where we are? This is your home,” Yulenth said.
“The paths through the Weald are numerous. And, I haven’t been in this forest for over fifteen years,” Alrhett said.
They heard the footsteps of another traveler crunching through the late autumn leaves.
“Back here,” Yulenth said concealing himself and Alrhett behind the trunk of a large oak.
They saw an old man, dressed in a dark cloak picking his way through the canopy of tangled trees. Yulenth was immediately relieved.
“Hallo there!” He cried to the old man. The hooded traveler made as to gesture defensively, but halted when he saw that it was two fellow humans.
“Yes?” He answered.
Yulenth and Alrhett made their way to him. “We seem to be lost. We’re trying to find the river,” Yulenth said to the man with flowing white hair, and kind eyes.
“Lost, eh?” The mage said. “A man as intelligent as you are?”
“What are you talking about?” Yulenth said. “Do I know you?”
“Who can say?” The mage answered. “But look around. What do you feel? Can you feel the trees talking to you?”
“Feel-?” Yulenth snorted. “I lost the direction of the morning sun. I thought that was east, so that should be south,” he said pointing.
“What troubles you?” The mage said to Alrhett, who started at his words.
“How did you-?”
“It’s plainly in your spirit,” the mage’s eyes twinkled. “Aren’t you happy to be home?”
But before Alrhett could answer, Yulenth exclaimed.
“The trees!” He cried. “They all have moss on one side. The shadier side. That must be north! To go south, we simply follow the trees!”
“Amazing,” the mage said shaking his head, “how his mind takes everything apart. But that’s why you love him.” He said to Alrhett. “You’ve always loved him. Even long ago when he came to the court as an emissary from Glaf.”
“How did you know that!?” Alrhett cried.
“I’m old. I remember it,” he said.
“This way!” Yulenth exclaimed. “I know this is the way to the river!”
“Well,” said the Mage, “I’m going west. May haps we’ll see each other again,” the mage said to Yulenth, but not Alrhett.
“Be strong,” he said to her. “Your people need your strength, now more than ever.”
Then, the mage continued away on a different path, as Yulenth pulled a wondering Alrhett in the new direction he had found.
As mid-day approached, Yulenth and Alrhett came upon an opening of brittle, dead bracken. As they made their way across the small meadow, nine startled crows burst up into the sky.
“What was that all about?” Yulenth mused to himself.
“They were saying something about-“ Alrhett stopped in mid-sentence as they came upon the fresh corpse of a dead man.
His body was sprawled, cut several times and oozing fresh blood. The dead man was elegantly dressed in the clothing of a noble of the court of the Weald.
“I know him,” Alrhett said in horror.
“Here,” Yulenth said, quickly handing Alrhett his sword. “Let’s see if there is any life left in him.” Yulenth bent down to see if he could save the poor man.
“It’s Argotine, a Lord of the Court,” Alrhett whispered.
A loud crunching behind them made Alrhett jump. An armed noble with several guards quickly approached.
“Stavolebe,” Alrhett breathed, recognizing the approaching noble dressed in the blue and green silks according to his rank.
“Hold!” The noble cried. He looked down at the corpse, then at the sword in Alrhett’s hand. “So,” Stavolebe said with a strange, happy disgust. “Our queen has returned to us to kill the Lords of the Court.”
“No,” Alrhett stammered.
“Take them,” Stavolebe imperiously said. The guards advanced and wrenched the sword and spear from her. Then, the guards bound Alrhett and Yulenth’s hands, and marched them off to Rogar Li to stand trial.
On the march, Stavolebe took the opportunity to torment Alrhett.
“The old man died less than a year after you left,” he sneered at her. “You needn’t have fled, after all.”
Alrhett looked straight ahead, and would not give him the satisfaction of an answer.
“Was your daughter with you?” Stavolebe probed. “Did we leave her back there alone in the Weald? Garonds are venturing into the forests now. Imagine that. Shall I send one of my guards back to fetch her? Is that what you wish?”
“I wish you’d shut your fly trap,” Yulenth mumbled.
Stavolebe eyed Yulenth with a cruel desire.
“Ah
, yes. The Glaf ambassador,” the noble of the Weald said eyeing Yulenth.
“Your country no longer exists to give you immunity.” With that Stavolebe struck old Yulenth hard in the stomach.
“Stop that at once!” Alrhett cried. The guards instinctively came to a fearful halt and Stavolebe almost made to kneel before Alrhett, but caught himself and sneered.
“You have no more authority, Queen of the Weald,” He laughed a little laugh to himself. “And your foul murder of the Lord Argotine will seal your fate forever.”
Stavolebe aggressively waved at the guards and they resumed their march to Rogar Li in silence.
As they tramped through the Weald, Yulenth saw hidden archers in treetops, and sentries, well-disguised, even among the red and brown falling, autumn leaves. With its dark, labyrinthine timbers and hidden pathways, any garond that forayed into the Weald would surely be dead in a matter of moments. It was no wonder the wealdkin had yet to be attacked by Deifol Hroth’s armies.
Late in the day, the city of Rogar Li seemed to burst into view from its cover of the titanic elms and ancient oaks that enfolded it. Blending in with the most towering pines of all of Wealdland, Rogar Li was a terraced, wooden castle made right out of the forest. The houses and great halls in Rogar Li were planted over young trees when they were first built, and as the trees grew, they lifted the structures into the air with the strength of the tree, and the family. Walkways and ramps were built between the houses, so the lowest of structures interconnected to the loftiest, the high royal throne rooms, swaying at the treetops.
Alrhett and Yulenth were taken to a jail on the ground level, and held for the night, to meet the Great Judge of the Weald in the morning.
Word had spread through Rogar Li of Alrhett’s arrival, and the curious, the angry and the hopeful milled outside the jail all night.
Alrhett and Yulenth silently held each other tight throughout that long and gloomy night.
The next sunny and cold morning, Yulenth woke to find Alrhett softly whispering to three little sparrows perched on the windowsill of their jail cell. The sparrows listened intently, hopped and twitched with excitement, then in a blink, they were gone, flying out into the Weald.
“What was that all about?” Yulenth sleepily asked.
“In the winter the squirrel must search everywhere to survive,” Alrhett said with a worried sigh.
“Oh,” Yulenth groaned, “your Weald adages drive me to distraction.”
A guard brought them a meager meal. And, in the late morning they were escorted through Rogar Li to the Great Judge’s chamber.
“Has anyone claimed the throne?” Yulenth asked one of the guards, as they ascended stairways and ramps to the higher parts of the city.
“We’re not supposed to talk to you,” the guard sullenly answered.
“No, all is in turmoil,” the other guard quickly answered. “Did you slay Lord Argotine?” He asked Alrhett with large, hurt eyes.
“No,” she gently said to the guard, “and I do not ask you to blindly believe me.”
“I thought you innocent the moment I heard the accusation,” the guard said with an angry pout.
Throngs of people lined the walkways to see Alrhett and murmur amongst themselves. Alrhett held her head high.
“Are the Lords of the Court still elected by the people?” Yulenth asked the sympathetic guard.
“Yes, but there is awful strife between the Lords,” the guard said. “All claim the throne and Summeninquis, the Great Judge, has taken advantage of this strife to gather power unto himself.”
“Well,” Yulenth said to both guards, “isn’t it interesting that Lord Stavolebe just happened to be there when Lord Argotine was killed. Tell me, were they in competition with each other for political power here in Rogar Li?”
“Many of the people have deduced this already,” the sullen guard said. “We need only for our Queen to prove her innocence, and tell us of her reasons for fleeing the capitol. Then, the people of the Weald will rise up with her.”
The guards shared an embarrassed look, then said nothing else the long ascent to the trial chamber.
The chamber of the Great Judge of the Weald was a long, wooden hall, with a high ceiling. The whole room gently swayed with the stronger winds that blew through the trees. There was room along the sides of the hall for galleries of citizens to watch proceedings, and they were packed to capacity.
The High Judge Summeninquis sat at a high bench flanked by three judges on each side.
“There’s that miserable judge who came to us from beyond the Far Grasslands,” Yulenth grumbled. “I can’t believe he’s still in power. What right does he have to pass judgment on the people of the Weald? And who are all these new judges? Why they look as though they could be his family!”
“Quiet,” one of the guards whispered. “Those are his family. All from his far away homeland, and all now important judges.”
“How do the people of the Weald stand for this!?” Yulenth angrily muttered.
“Not very well,” Alrhett said with satisfaction, surveying the galleries of citizens who waved and smiled at her with desperate affection.
“They still can pass the death warrant upon you,” the other guard whispered. “Be very, very careful.”
“Court is in session!” A bailiff cried, and the crush of spectators silenced.
“You stand accused of the foul murder of Lord Argotine, abandoning your throne for nefarious purposes, conspiring to kill all the Lords of the Courts, and thereby destroying the whole government, peace and life of the people of the Weald, Alrhett, former Queen,” Judge Summeninquis intoned with a weighty, deep voice. “How do you plead?”
Alrhett rose to her feet and looked the judge square in the eye.
“I am not guilty,” she said with regal dignity. The citizens in attendance nearly broke into applause, but Judge Summeninquis banged his gavel.
“Silence,” he said. “Yulenth, former ambassador of Glaf, and still a Glaf citizen, and so not bound by Weald law, there are no charges against you. If you will testify against Alrhett and reveal her guilt, you may go free this very instant.”
Yulenth cleared his throat. “I suppose,” he said, “you’d best keep me in jail, since I can tell you, with the honesty of a man of Glaf, and you know we are honor bound to tell the truth no matter how unpleasant, that this woman before you is innocent.” The crush of spectators exclaimed so strongly that the judge quickly called for the trial to be postponed until the next day.
“Your honor!” Alrhett cried. “I ask that I be allowed to move about Rogar Li without restriction since I will not leave the city, so eager am I to prove my innocence.’
“Yes, yes,” Summeninquis said as he, and the other judges made a hasty exit from the courtroom, with the whole gallery about to explode.
“Alrhett! Alrhett!” The people cheered and carried her and Yulenth out of the courtroom. Alrhett begged the crowd to set her down.
“Let us go about our everyday lives,” she said to the throng. “We are earnest to tell Our whole story, and for you to hear it. But, let there be no commotion, nor unrest. The people of the Weald have always prided themselves upon their intelligence and learning, so let us not behave as animals, even in troubled times.”
With that, the potentially unruly mob dispersed with glad slaps on the back for their returned queen, and angry glances in the direction of the Great Judge’s court.
The guards who had escorted Alrhett and Yulenth to the trial hall were also assigned to protect them, and keep them within the city limits.
Alrhett was allowed to return to her royal palace with Yulenth. It was dusty and unkempt. Much of the furniture and art objects had gone missing. But, it still had a bed and some chairs and tables.
“Seems rather expansive” Yulenth said, “specially empty like this.”
“I’d trade it all for my own bed with you in Bittel,” Alrhett said hugging Yulenth tight. “Listen,” she said gazing deep into his eyes
, “if anything happens to me, flee for your life. They will not spare you for a moment without my protection.”
“Hmmph,” Yulenth said holding her tighter. “They’ll have to get through me first, so there’s no worry about that.” And then he kissed her. “And besides, you got those two to look after you,” Yulenth motioned to the two guards, who loyally stayed close to their every footstep. “I think they could fend off a pack of crazed doderns.”
“What are your names?” Alrhett asked the tall, youthful guards.
“I am Matclew, and this is my brother, Drepaw,” Matclew said with a deep bow, his dark brown hair flopping forward.
“Brothers,” Yulenth said with musing approval.
“Our home is your home,” Alrhett said to them. “Matclew,” she said, “go out and invite as many who will come, to eat their dinners here. We have nothing to offer. But We would like to tell the people of Our journeys, if they wish to hear of them.”
“Yes, My Queen,” Matclew said with another bow, and quickly left to spread the invitation.
Right away, the citizens of the Weald began to arrive at the royal palace with arms loaded with bread, fish, cured meats, nuts, fresh vegetables and pots of stew.
Alrhett respectfully took a small bit of every dish or food offered her, while Yulenth sat, happy in a corner, gorging himself on the continually growing pile of food brought to him. Alrhett stood to address the crowded room.
“My dear fellow wealdkin,” Alrhett began, “I have so missed you and my home.”
Yulenth was not astonished to see how easily her mantle of authority fell once again onto her shoulders. She seemed to grow an inch, stand straighter, and gave an air of security and strength that he had not seen in over a decade.
An elderly man in tattered clothes shuffled in with the crowd. He seemed nervous and quietly agitated. His eyes were restless and always downcast. Matclew and Drepaw watched him carefully. Assassinations were all too common among the political vipers of Rogar Li.
“I must start,” she continued, “with the terrible civil war of the Weald, which as you know, lasted ten years, took half our population, and strained forever our relations with the wealdkin of the Eaststand. Many of you were children, or too young to fight, but I’m certain you remember the terror and destruction. The civil war ended with a peace agreement between aged Ergester, the High Lord of the Eaststand and my husband, Bosruss, who, you were all told, lasted long enough to sign the peace agreement, before he succumbed to the injuries he sustained in the war. This was not true. My husband, your king was murdered and his signature forged.”
A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. Alrhett waited for this to sink in.
“I do not suppose he was assassinated,” she went on, “for I was there when Ergester and his foul killers took my husband's life. He insisted on my daughter’s hand in marriage to consolidate his power. As you know she was barely nineteen years of age, against his more than eighty. I had to flee my friends. I had no choice. I found a small, hidden village in the Eastern Meadowlands. We have lived there in safe, happy seclusion for over sixteen years with my second husband, Yulenth.”
The elderly, tattered man, who still had a powerful frame, stood, tears streaming down his face. Matclew and Drepaw tensed ready to tackle him if he leapt forward. “I was one of the murderers who took your husband’s life,” he said. “My soul has been in torment ever since. I am glad to have life, only for this moment, to confirm your words, Great Queen.” With that, he stepped to a window, and threw himself out to his death, on the forest floor far below.
The shock of the wealdkin was replaced only a moment later by chattering and gossip.
“What of your daughter Wynnfrith?” A lord with an angry, red face asked, trying to quiet the murmuring throng.
“She married a sober, young man in my hidden village,” Alrhett answered. “They have a boy, fifteen years of age.”
Another shocked murmur ran through the crowd.
“An heir! An heir to the throne!” The crush of people muttered to each other in happy astonishment.
“But,” Alrhett held up her hand, “he is lost somewhere, possibly here in the Weald. He seeks a young woman stolen by the garonds.”
“We must find the heir! Find him!” A cry went up.
A gangly young man stood, and the crowd quieted in respect.
“I will use all the resources of the Messenger Guild to find him,” he said.
“I humbly thank you and the Guild, Hermergh,” Alrhett said.
The crush of people took turns thanking and greeting their Queen, then hurried out to spread the word.
Yulenth shook his head. His wife was so powerful, yet she was no tyrant, nor a despot. He loved her all the more.
The room refilled with another crowd, and Alrhett told her story all over. She did this four more times until guards from the High Court forbade her speaking anymore to the citizens of the Weald. But, the damage to the politics of the High Court was already done. Alrhett had spoken to her people, and the suicide of the assassin sealed her words as truth.
Matclew and Drepaw cleared the last well-wishers and bowing lords, and then positioned themselves at the only two entrances to the royal palace. That night Alrhett and Yulenth slept soundly for the first time in many nights.
The next morning, Alrhett and Yulenth woke to a great alarm. The city was abuzz with the news of a garond army massing on the south bank of the Bairn River. They were attempting to take the Three Bridges of Rogar Li. Every citizen was given arms and rushed out to defend the ancient bridges.
Yulenth readied himself to go, as well.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Alrhett asked.
“If they take the bridges, your trial and all of Rogar Li will be irrelevant,” Yulenth said with a huff.
“Then I will come with you,” Alrhett said.
“You are not to leave the city,” Yulenth said, looking over at her nervously shifting guards.
“If I do not go out,” she said loudly for the benefit of Matclew and Drepaw, “with the wealdkin, to fight for the Three Bridges, then I most assuredly will be abandoning my city.”
Matclew smiled at her logic, and the four of them rushed out and down, with the host of fearful citizens who were emptying the city, down to meet the garond army at the Three Bridges of Rogar Li on the southern side of the Bairn River.
Hundreds of humans from the capitol of the Weald rushed down through the towering trees to the open place where the River Bairn boiled in rapid turmoil. The sight was frightening.
Thousands of garonds swarmed on the south bank, bristling with spears and swords, black clad and bellowing war cries, their human slaves bringing weapons and supplies to the front lines. The late afternoon sun beat down on the vicious struggle playing out on all three bridges.
The Three Bridges of Rogar Li were old, erected in a bygone age when men had more skill and knowledge. They gracefully arced over the white, angry water and were covered in ornate, swirling designs, of gods and animals at play. The bridges were wide. Ten men could easily walk abreast, and this made holding even just one bridge vital.
Yulenth approached a captain of the Weald army.
“It looks bad,” Yulenth said. “If they take but one bridge, their numbers will spill onto our shore until they have all three.”
“If that happens,” the captain said, “then all the Weald is lost.”
Human archers on the northern shore peppered the garonds with arrows and supported the troops hacking at the heavily armored garonds trying to push their way across.
As human or garond fell from the bridges into the water, evil fish, churning the river below, tore their bodies to pieces.
“Marowdowr!” Yulenth exclaimed.
On the south side, the garonds had no bow and arrows, but they did have a few machines which would launch large stones over the river into the human ranks, crushing with blood curdling screams.
“We have to destroy the bridges,” Yulent
h called to the captain over the din of battle.
“My Queen?” The captain asked Alrhett.
“Yulenth is right,” she said. “It is better to destroy our beautiful bridges than lose all our lives.”
“But how can we do it?!” The captain yelled as another large missile struck close by. “If we destroy one they surely will focus all their efforts on the remaining bridges and take them. As they try to take all three, we have kept them at bay.”
Yulenth gnawed on his knuckle. His brain worked furiously.
“Have you any oil?” Yulenth shouted to the captain as an idea struck him.
“Yes,” the captain said. “Mostly rendered oil, for lanterns-“
“Perfect!” Yulenth cried.
Then with hasty instructions, he and the captain gathered several men to spill as many barrels of oil as they could on their sides of all three bridges.
The oil made it very difficult for the humans to hold their places on the bridge. But, the brave and stalwart soldiers did their best.
The garonds felt the weariness of the humans and the growing strength of their numbers, and they pulled back to their side of the river to make a final rush. All was momentarily quiet.
“Now is our chance,” Yulenth whispered to himself. He turned to a battery of archers, and hissed, “On my signal, and only on my signal. All three bridges must burn together at the same time or all is lost.”
Yulenth made his way down to the middle bridge and yelled across to the garond warriors preparing for a massive onslaught that would almost certainly take all three of the Bridges of Rogar Li.
“We have had enough of your murders and violence!” Yulenth cried to the garonds on the other side. “This is our land and we will keep it! You vile beasts go back!” Yulenth raised his fist, and then aggressively dropped it. “Now!”
At his command, hundreds of arrows wrapped in oil soaked, flaming cloth struck all three bridges. The fire was immediate and explosive as the bridges were very dry.
The garonds rushed forward to try to put out the fire, but it was too late. The Three Bridges of Rogar Li burned like a harvest bonfire.
On one side the humans cheered, on the other, the garonds bellowed and snarled in rage.
The captain slapped Yulenth on the back. “Who would have thought of burning arrows,” the captain said in wonder. “Such a mind you have.”
“Yes,” said Yulenth. “But, now everyone will do it. Maybe not such a great idea for just anyone to employ. What I’d really like is to get a look at those stone throwing devices over there.”
“I’ll send the Messenger Guild to fetch you one,” the captain laughed, then turned to organize his archers to shoot as many garonds as tarried at the river’s south shore.
“The judge sends for you,” Matclew apologetically said to Alrhett. And, the four of them walked back to Rogar Li.
At the Great Hall of the Judges, Alrhett and Yulenth were ushered in. The hall was empty of spectators. The seven judges scowled down at the accused.
“Bring in Lord Stavolebe,” Judge Summeninquis intoned.
Stavolebe, flourished into the hall as though he were an actor playing an important part.
“Tell your account, Lord Stavolebe,” the Judge instructed.
Stavolebe cleared his throat, then spoke with an affected accent, “We found her with a sword and spear, standing over the freshly killed body of Lord Argotine, with whom you may recall, she had many ferocious disagreements.”
“Only the facts,” Summeninquis gravely said.
“Well,” Stavolebe said. “That is all. Except. The Glaf was robbing the body when we arrived.”
“A lie!” Yulenth cried.
“Silence!” Summeninquis somberly shifted. “You may be the hero of the moment, but I am not so sure the people of the Weald will be so enamored with you once they realize how difficult their lives will be without the bridges to cross the Bairn.”
“And what lives would those be left?!” Yulenth said in genuine astonishment. “Have you seen the humans the garonds have spared? Maybe some left for slave labor, possibly those who conspire with them-“
“I will not tolerate this!” Summeninquis boomed.
The hall was quiet, except for a whispering breeze that carried the smell of the burning bridges.
“Have you any defense?” The judge asked Alrhett.
“None that will satisfy you,” Alrhett said with dignity. “I am innocent. Lord Stavolebe has actually spoken the truth. But, I, nor Yulenth, did no violence to Lord Argotine.”
Outside, the murmur and rattling of the great doors could be heard as the people of Rogar Li tried to get in. Judge Summeninquis appeared agitated. His plan to try and sentence Alrhett and Yulenth in secret had been discovered. Now great loud knocks came on the door, and the sound of an angry mob could be heard from without.
“Court is adjourned until tomorrow!” Summeninquis banged his gavel as the doors burst open.
“I tried to hold them back, your honor!” Matclew cried with a satirical smile, as the judge and his cronies scurried out of the hall.
Alrhett and Yulenth were escorted by the crush of adoring citizens to the royal palace, which now was stuffed with humble furnishings, which the people of Rogar Li had brought to their Queen’s home.
“We may not have the people to protect us at all times,” Alrhett said to Yulenth.
“Let us trust them,” he said holding her. “Now let us rest until tomorrow.”
Late that night, Alrhett woke with a start. She shook Yulenth who was loudly snoring in a deep sleep.
“Someone is in here,” she whispered.
Yulenth shook himself awake.
“Matclew!” Alrhett whispered. Yulenth carefully rose from their bed. He peered into the gathered shadows of the cloud filled night.
“Hallo?” Yulenth quietly said as, suddenly, a cloaked figure leapt on him.
“Matclew!” Alrhett cried.
Yulenth held the cloaked man’s arm. A blade dully gleamed in his hand.
“Matclew!” Alrhett screamed, as Yulenth struggled with the assassin. Then, Yulenth smartly stomped on the intruder’s feet, causing him to cringe in pain.
Matclew and Drepaw burst into the room with lanterns and swords drawn. The assassin pushed Yulenth away and leapt out a window.
They rushed to the window to see him leaping from tree to tree, until he was out of sight.
“Are either of you hurt?!” Matclew said.
“No, thank god,” Yulenth wearily answered.
“I think it best if one of us stays here in the room,” Matclew said closing the window.
“I’ll guard the main door and seal up the other,” Drepaw said.
Matclew settled down on the wooden floor with his drawn sword by his side, despite Alrhett’s protests that he at least sleep on some pillows. Then, they all drifted off to a light, troubled sleep.
The next morning, word of the assassination attempt had spread among the people of Rogar Li, and angry, protective citizens loitered outside the palace with swords and spears.
Yulenth woke to find Alrhett softly whispering to a sparrow that excitedly twitched and hopped up and down on the window sill.
“I just don’t believe it,” he heard her say. “Well, tell them to keep looking.” The sparrow flew away in the blink of an eye.
“Marshaling the troops,” Yulenth said with a playful smile.
“Yes, I am, as a matter of fact,” Alrhett said with a mischievous smile, which left Yulenth puzzled.
“Matclew!” Alrhett called.
Matclew entered from the outer room, where he spent the morning after waking.
“Yes, My Queen,” he answered.
“Go tell the court I am ready,” she said. “And please ask the citizens of the Weald to be polite and well behaved. We cannot give those who conspire against me any cause.”
Matclew nodded and excused himself.
The morning dragged on without Matclew’s return. “Mayb
e we should just go up there,” Yulenth said to Alrhett. She thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.
As they left with Drepaw faithfully by their side, a cluster of armed citizens attended them. Alrhett stopped them.
“Good people of the Weald,” she said. “We do not want to antagonize the court. Please go to your homes. We will be safe, in the plain light of day.”
The armed group muttered, but left for their homes. Alrhett, Yulenth and Drepaw continued on to the High Court. Yulenth suddenly became alarmingly aware of the lack of citizens going on about their daily business on the ramps and flattened branches of Rogar Li.
“Where is everybody?” He asked. No one had an answer.
At the doors of the High Court, Drepaw gained admittance to the court. After a few moments Drepaw returned.
“Please come with me,” he said to Alrhett. “You must remain out here,” he said to Yulenth.
“The nerve,” he huffed. Alrhett and Drepaw entered the massive carved wood doors.
Yulenth waited alone, without even guards posted outside the court. It seemed he was waiting for an eternity. He began to feel very uncomfortable. It was unnaturally quiet, and he thought of the assassination attempt the previous night.
“Hello,” the Mage said, suddenly at his elbow.
“Gaaah!” Yulenth jumped. “You’ll make a fellow’s heart burst, sneaking up like that!”
“I did no sneaking,” the Mage plainly said. “Listen to me most urgently, Yulenth. Your life, and your wife’s life, at this very instant, is in great danger.”
“Don’t I know it,” Yulenth muttered. “Where is everybody, anyway?”
“They’ve all been confined to their homes, so that the conspirators may work unhindered,” the Mage answered.
“Well then, I better get in there,” Yulenth proclaimed. “Help me with these doors.”
“Never mind the doors,” the Mage said with urgency. “Mind these,” he said pointing to a group of five masked men advancing with drawn swords.
Inside the court, Alrhett noticed Matclew standing, red faced and ashamed as though he had just been reprimanded. He looked side long at Alrhett as if to warn her, but remained fearfully silent.
Summeninquis and his six judges sat with arrogant authority at their high bench.
“You were not summoned to this court,” Summeninquis said with a deep, sneering voice.
“Yes,” Alrhett said. “And, I apologize for my brashness, but I am eager to clear my name.”
“The name, Alrhett, Queen of the Weald,” Summeninquis said, “is synonymous with ‘traitor’. Why if I want one of my brethren to know that I feel he has cheated me at cards I call him an “Alrhett”. If I want a merchant in the food stalls to know he has shorted me in my agreed upon purchase, I call him an “Alrhett”. If I see a mother woefully neglecting her child, unto the child’s endangerment, and I must remove that child from that mother’s care, unless that child dies due to her neglect, I call her an “Alrhett”!” Summeninquis rose in his anger. “You come when we call you. You stay if we do not. You are less than a citizen of the Weald, and you are fortunate to have the very life we allow you at this very instant!”
The silence after Summeninquis berating was deafening.
Alrhett regally rose. She looked the Great Judge of the Weald directly in the eye. Her face was pale with anger, and for a woman who had seen over fifty summers, she suddenly appeared as youthful and as beautiful as an avenging angel. Light seemed to stream from her very body.
“My name,” she said, “was given to me by my grandfather, then King of the Weald, and it means in the older tongue, ‘Great Strength’. I am a daughter of an age old line of Kings who stretch back to the times when elves numbered more than men, and honor was more precious than gold. I have not betrayed my name, my family, my title, or my people. I have, however, fled when outnumbered by evil, conspiring men, to protect my only child. I defy any parent to do differently! I grieved for my people and this beautiful land to leave them in the hands of arrogant, loathsome, wicked men like you. I have returned, and your days of power are over. And know this, Summeninquis, Great Judge of the Weald, Alrhett, Queen of the Weald, will NOT be spoken to with disrespect!”
With her last words, the very earth trembled with rage. The massive trees and the court violently swayed with the earthquake. From outside the court doors, a brilliant, blinding light flashed as they splintered into pieces. Yulenth and the Mage rushed through the debris with five armed, masked men behind them.
“Alert! Alert!” Yulenth cried. “Assassins after the Queen!”
Matclew and Drepaw drew their swords, and they were magnificent. They slashed, cut and parried, and quickly, amongst the wreckage of the Great Hall, five assassins lay dead in pools of their own blood. Matclew ripped the masks off their faces.
“Lord Faronrall, Lord Habannage!” Matclew exclaimed.
“Lords!” Drepaw exclaimed. “Every one of them.”
Summeninquis and his cronies crawled from their high bench and scurried out a secret door.
“We must make for the safety of your palace, My Queen,” Matclew cried.
“You will never make it alive,” the Mage breathed. “There are even more conspirators then these along the way.”
“What do you suggest?” Yulenth asked the Mage.
“There is a small house I know of nearby,” the Mage said with urgency. “We can hide there until, under the cloak of night, we can steal back into the royal palace. I shall try to marshal as many sympathetic men as I can.”
“Lead on,” Alrhett commanded.
The Mage led Alrhett, Yulenth, Matclew and Drepaw out and through the trees.
The damage to the city from the earthquake was astonishing. Some of the more towering trees had collapsed. Houses, halls and markets hung shattered between the broken limbs and ramps of Rogar Li. The citizens of the capitol were actually fortunate to have been confined to their homes, so the loss of life was less than it might have been. But the stillness of the city was eerie. The cries of those trapped or pinned echoed through the swaying trees.
“Here,” the Mage said, leading the group into a humble house carved into the knot of a rotund pine. “Do not answer the door under any circumstances. Wait until nightfall. I may not be able to return for you, so go when you feel you can.”
As soon as the Mage left, Yulenth could see through a crack in the curtains of the only window, fifty or more masked men charging up to the Great Judges Hall with swords drawn.
“It is as he has said,” Yulenth exhaled. “There are too many of them searching for you,” he said to Alrhett. Matclew and Drepaw took turns watching out the window, waiting for the night to fall.
All the rest of the day, the sounds of rescue, and the search for Alrhett resounded through the imprisoned city.
As night fell, restlessness settled on the fugitives.
“We will be safe behind the fortified doors of the palace,” Matclew said.
“It’s only a matter of time before they find us here,” Yulenth agreed. They searched the small house and found three winter cloaks, two black, and one bright blue.
“You take the blue one,” Yulenth said pulling it around Alrhett shoulders. “So we will be able to find you if we are separated.” Then he pulled the hood over her head.
“You two take the others,” Drepaw said, and Yulenth and Matclew pulled on the hooded cloaks.
“Quickly and silently,” Matclew said as he cracked the door open. Outside it was still and gloomy.
Matclew hid his drawn sword underneath his cloak, while Drepaw could not draw his for fear of revealing himself.
They stole out of the house onto the ruined runways of Rogar Li. It was dismayingly quiet, not even the night birds sang or rustled in the branches.
They made their way down a level. They had two more to descend, and a long stretch to arrive at the palace and safety. Alrhett thought she heard something and pulled at Matclew’s cloak. They all halted in f
ear. The limbs of the trees of the city swayed in the night breezes. The sky was covered with clouds, the city was so unsettlingly still. Very few lights burned in the windows of homes. The whole city seemed to be terrified and powerless.
“There she is!” a murderous voice boomed through the trees.
A roar of some seventy or more armed men went up. Alrhett, Yulenth, Matclew, and Drepaw ran for their lives.
“Watch her! There she goes!” The vicious cries rang through the still city, afraid to aid their queen.
“Quickly! This way!” Matclew cried.
Down broken ramps in the dark they fled. It seemed the men were on all sides of them. Drepaw pulled Yulenth down a ramp separating them from Alrhett and Matclew.
“No! No! That way!” Yulenth cried. But ten men were already on their heels. Up a ramp, Yulenth and Drepaw ran. Yulenth looked over the side and could see the black cloak of Matclew and the blue cloak of Alrhett fleeing down another way.
Yulenth leapt over a railing onto another causeway. Overhead, he heard Drepaw exclaim, then the clash of sword on sword rang out as Drepaw was overwhelmed and slain.
Alone, Yulenth ran through the blackened city, the fall wind whipping through the bare, snaking branches.
“Get her!” A chorus of men yelled.
Yulenth looked over a bridge to see a group of killers surrounding the blue cloak on a wooden span below. Then, swords plunged in, again and again, blood splashed.
“NOOOO!” Yulenth cried in horror.
The Mage pulled at Yulenth.
“I can get you out “ The Mage cried, “but you must follow quickly!”
The old man was fast for his appearing age, and Yulenth had trouble keeping up as they ran down the levels of the city, masked killers running, searching for him in the inky blackness.
Yulenth’s mind raced in the darkness of the night. He was alone now. His wife was dead, foully assassinated.
