by James Dale
“As for the burial detail you chose…” Morgan continued.
“I was angry sir," Jack admitted, "But I'll not apologize."
"As for the detail," Morgan said again," a few hours digging will do them no harm. I just hope Colonel Valdaen isn't...overzealous...rounding them up. Otherwise, I will have a hard time saving his career."
"If you fire him Duke Morgan," Jack replied, "I'll make him Valdaen Marshal of the Golden Lions. Without his...zealousness after Colonel Dreuhil fell, we'd have lost twice as many men entering the palace."
"He's not unemployed yet," the duke informed him. "I just said it would be a challenge if he doesn't use his head. Which he will or he wouldn't be a colonel in the Doridanian army. Half the council will likely be eager to do whatever he asks, happy they aren't digging their own graves. No, Jack Braedan, I am not upset. If fact, I could not have planned a better way for the High Council to spend the next several hours. Because they will be tired and humbled for the emergency session I mean to call as soon as they are finished. So tired and humbled hopefully I will be able to undo some of the mischief Kiathan has caused over the last few years before they recover their wits."
"Sounds like you have the rest of your day planned," Jack nodded. "If you don't mind sir, I'm going to find a nice, quiet corner and sleep for about a week."
"I think the House of Ellgereth can find something more fitting for the new Swordmaster and claimant to Yhswyndyr than a quiet corner," Duke Morgan replied. "Though I cannot promise you will be allowed an entire week to sleep."
"How about a few hours then?" asked Jack hopefully.
"A few hours, I can promise," Morgan nodded. "I will have Haemon Emnael prepare you a suite. It was him I saw escorting you in, was it not?"
"It was," Jack replied.
"Haemon!" the Duke of Dorshev called. "Are you still out there?"
"Your grace," the chief butler bowed, stepping into the room.
"Is your staff ready to get back to work?" Morgan asked.
"As soon as the Duke of Thonbor says it is safe," Emnael replied, with a slight nod of his head towards Jack.
"I doubt even the most hardened of Kiathan's troops still remain hidden at this hour. Not with the 18th Rangers patrolling the halls," Morgan surmised. "Find a suite for the Swordmaster then come back here. We need...we need to prepare the king's body. Then we have a state funeral to plan, and a coronation.
"Yes, your grace," the chief butler bowed. "If you will follow me, your grace."
As Jack rose wearily and started for the door, Duke Morgan's voice followed him. "This is a sad day for the House of Ellgereth, but it would have been much, much worse, if not for you Jack Braedan. When time and circumstances permit, the Ivory Throne will thank you properly. If we can find something suitable for your station."
"Sir," Jack said, stopping in the doorway, "the Ivory Throne is gracious, but the only gift I desire from Doridan is not yours to give. Besides, I deserve less thanks than hundreds who fought today."
"We will thank them as well," Morgan nodded.
"He's going to make a fine High King," Theros remarked after Jack had gone.
"Perhaps even Ljmarn's equal," Morgan agreed.
"He must be even greater than Ljmarn," Cilidon said quietly, "or in a few years, no one will be left west of the River Whesguard who remembers his name. Or ours."
With that sobering statement, the three began forming plans which had nothing to do with a state funeral or Annawyn's coming coronation.
Chapter Eight
Annawyn of Doridan
"It will take some time to prepare your suite," Haemon informed Jack as his ranger escort fell in behind them.
"I also need quarters for...a least a dozen men," Jack informed him. "Plus, a room suitable for the King of Amar."
"The King of Amar?" the chief butler replied, confused.
"Tarsus Aernin."
"No Amarian king has visited Dorshev since before...well, for a very long time," Haemon mused. "But I will find quarters worthy of him."
"I'm sure you will," Jack nodded. "I'm going to check on the queen. Look for me at her quarters when my room is ready."
If the chief steward thought it improper for Jack to so casually inform him he would be in the room of the princess...the queen, who was by law still engaged to Kiathan Ellgaer, no sign of it showed on his face as he bowed and bid his leave. Braedan decided instantly if he ever needed a matter handled discreetly while he was in Dorshev, Haemon Emnael would be the first man he sought out.
Jack found two of Anna’s Horsemaidens and Cyran and James Th'lann right where he'd left them outside Anna's door. "All quiet?" he asked, as his Lions gave him crisp salutes and the Horse-maidens gave him a respectful nod.
Other than being dirty, both Lions looked as if they'd just started their watch and hadn't spent the previous night fighting in the Ruwe Mountains or ridden straight from a desperate battle to fight their way into a palace held by a battalion of Raashani guardsmen. Anna’s Horsemaidens looked fatigued as well. Jack supposed he’d have to begin learning their names soon if he was going to be tripping over them every time he turned around.
"Nothing to report, my Lord Braeden," Cyran replied. "The...queen still rests. No one has tried to disturb her."
Braedan could not remember the last time he sounded so...formal. No doubt it was due to the Horsemaidens or perhaps the rangers escorting him. "Thank you, lieutenant. You are relieved. You and James go find Chief Steward Haemon and tell him I said to get you something to eat. He's also promised to have us rooms shortly."
"But my Lord..."
"That's an order Lieutenant d'Abba," Jack said firmly. "Get a bite to eat and get some rest. You've earned it."
"Yes, my Lord," Cyran nodded, then snapped to attention and gave a perfect legionnaire salute. "Permission to leave our post!"
"Permission granted," Jack replied, returning his salute. "And Cyran?"
"My Lord?"
"I’m proud of you," Jack smiled. "Proud of all the Golden Lions. You've done everything I asked, and more. Thank you."
Cyran beamed at the compliment, gave him another salute, then slapped young Th'lann on the shoulder. "Come on James, I'm starving."
Braedan watched the two Lions depart down the corridor with a proud smile, then turned to the pair of Horsemaidens. “What are your names?”
“Lancer Nevi Ell’dhan,” replied the one on the left. She was almost as tall as him, and had hair as fiery as her princess, though cut much shorter. Her blue eyes were so bright they probably glowed in the dark.
“First Lancer Shae Dhrunnhar,” the other nodded. She was shorter than her companion, with ruddy cheeks and strawberry blonde hair twined in a braid that reached her waist. There was a white, puckered scar on her chin that she wore like a badge of honor.
“First Lancer Dhrunnhar. Lancer Ell’dhan. I am sure you are more than capable, but…” Jack turned to the Ranger in charge of his escort. "What's your name sergeant?"
"Corporal Drae Jonkael, sir," the ranger replied.
“Corporal Jonkael and his Rangers will join you on watch,” Jack informed them. “I’ll not take any chances tonight with Anna’s security.”
“High Prince,” Shae Dhrunnhar said hesitantly, as Jack reached to open the door. “Captain Einnael…”
“Captain Einnael,” Jack sighed. “Is just going to have to get over the fact she’s not the boss of me. You can come in and watch me watch her sleep if you want.”
“That will not be necessary,” she nodded. “We will remain outside.”
“As you wish,” Jack shrugged. “Four of you, minimum on this door at all times. No one disturbs Annawyn unless accompanied by Duke Morgan. Any trouble, any trouble at all, don't bother knocking, come and get me."
"Understood, sir," the ranger nodded.
“High Prince,” Dhrunnhar replied with a slight bow.
Jack entered the suite and closed the door behind him. Anna was still sleeping. He couldn’t really
blame her. It had been a long, hard ride from Immer. On another occasion, he would have taken the opportunity a look around, trying to learn something, anything, about the woman who lived here. He loved Annawyn Ellgereth with a passion and depth he could not begin trying to explain, yet knew almost nothing about who she really was. What made Anna laugh? What was her favorite breakfast? Did she hate winter or have an emotional meltdown if you didn’t throw your socks in the hamper? Learning could wait. All Jack had the strength left to do was bend over and kiss her cheek. It had been a long ride from Immer for him as well. He pulled up a chair, removed is sword, and drifted off, watching the woman he loved sleep peacefully.
Jack was awakened by a soft knock on the chamber door. Instantly alert, he looked at Annawyn, who was still resting soundly. He belted on his sword and went to the door, about to sternly remind First Lancer Dhrunnhar and Corporal Jonkael of his order not to be disturbed. The rebuke died on his lips when he found it was Duke Morgan.
“Your grace,” Jack nodded quietly.
“How is she?” Morgan asked.
“Still sleeping,” Jack replied. “How long….”
“It is just before sunset.” Morgan answered.
“Ailfar time traveling has me all out of whack,” Jack sighed. If it still wasn’t sunset he’d barely been napping for a couple of hours at most.
“Walk with me,” Morgan said. It wasn’t a request.
“Of course,” Jack nodded.
“First Lancer Dhrunnhar…”
“The…the queen will not be disturbed.” she assured him.
“Send a runner when she’s awake. Follow me, High Prince,” Morgan said, as he led Jack away from Annawyn’s door.
“Please Duke Morgan,” Jack sighed. “It’s just Jack, I’m nothing officially but the Duke of Thonbor. Dukes can call each other by their first names, right sir?” At least he thought they could anyway.
“Then if you insist…”
“I do.”
“Then you will call me Morgan only,” the duke smiled.
“Deal,” Jack nodded.
“Well then…Jack,” Morgan began, hesitantly “This is a delicate…issue. I know Anna loves you. I think I knew it even before she realized it herself. And I’m glad, overjoyed in fact. I knew you were a man of character when the world still called you ‘Pirate.’ Though I didn’t…couldn’t, imagine what manner of man you truly were.”
“Do I hear a ‘but’ coming…Morgan?”
”But…you cannot be with Annawyn unaccompanied…like this,” Morgan replied, with a casual wave back down the hallway. “Before you protest, I know you are a man of honor,” he said again. “However, protocol must be followed. We are not galloping down the Great South Road chasing Kiathan anymore. The palace is not the Greenrun where you can share a blanket under the stars with other warriors snoring all around you and no one thinks twice. The people adore their princess. Anna will be queen now, their ruler, but still, these halls have many ears. And eyes. One careless word from the good corporal or even her Horsemaidens and Anna’s reputation will be sullied before she is even crowned. Doridan needs their new queen….unsullied.”
“Morgan I would never…”
“I know Jack,” he sighed. “But the people of this city, outside of the few within these walls, only know you as Jack Braeden the pirate. They only remember you escaped crucifixion last spring. Oh, word will spread quick enough but still…”
“I understand Morgan,” Jack nodded. “I won’t give them a chance to start any…talk.”
“Good,” he nodded. “Haemon has your suite ready. Dorad’s old room as a matter of fact. They should suit the Duke of Thonbor. Now, would like to know what else I have done for you while you were napping?”
“I would indeed.”
“After the council finished your burial detail, before they had a chance to wash up in fact,” the duke smiled, “I had them resend your death sentence and issue you a full pardon. We couldn’t have Anna’s champion and the Swordmaster of Aralon thrown back into a cell so soon after he helped liberate Dorshev. Tarsus as well. There will not be any issues on that matter again.
“Kiathan?’ he asked.
“Although your word alone naming him traitor caused some…issues,” Morgan replied. “He strengthened your case on his flight from Immer. Some held he should be allowed to face his accuser. I argued he already had. It took some convincing, but eventually they were persuaded. He was stripped of his land and titles and they named him outlaw. We will have to send a couple of regiments to Raashan make sure the decree has weight, of course. And to make sure he didn’t magik himself back there. We will have to root out his most ardent supports. There is much to do to make this right. Anna will have to nominate someone to take over his title…”
“If I may make a suggestion?” Jack replied. “There is an Ellgereth that might fill this roll nicely. He’s young but…”
“Gain?” Morgan said, thoughtfully. “I will talk to Rhyn Dunnahel about getting him a leave of absence from the White Horse and send him to Raashan with two regiments as soon as things have settled down a bit. I should have thought of that already.”
“It’s been a long day sir,” Jack smiled. “You can’t be expected to think of everything. So, he has been stripped of his titles and named a traitor?”
“He has,” Morgan nodded.
“And his engagement to Anna?” asked Jack hesitantly.
“Annulled,” Morgan said patting his shoulder. “She is free to accept suitors. After an appropriate time of mourning for the king, of course.”
“Of course,” Jack nodded. “Those suitors…they have to be approved by the council, correct?”
“Correct,” Morgan nodded.
“The same council I had snatched from their homes and put to digging graves,” Jack sighed.
“Do not fear,” Morgan assured him. “Most were…generally repentant?”
“Most?”
“There are one or two who will never forget you put them to digging,” Morgan admitted. “For the wrong reason. Anistan Boren was ever Kiathan’s lap dog. I’ll arrange for him to be quietly retired tomorrow.”
“Lap dog? Not attack dog?” asked Jack.
“He’s a coward at heart,” Morgan replied. “I’ll send him someplace nice and far away from here to live out his years. Someplace I know we can fetch him quickly though, if I find out he was more than just a mouth piece for the former Duke of Raashan. The rest are salvageable I believe. Or they will be once they are made to understand Boren’s fate could be their own. There will be two council seats that needs filling,” Morgan sighed.
“Another suggestion, if I may?” Braedan asked. “There is a recently…defrocked Baron of Caer’Em who was also wronged by Kiathan.”
“Baranir Samil,” Morgan nodded. “Of course. I will have to arrange for another pardon tomorrow. Perhaps I should make you a council member?”
“I already have enough on my plate,” Jack sighed.
“It was just a thought,” Morgan smiled.
Jack suddenly noticed they had stopped walking.
“We are here.” Morgan announced. “Dorad’s old quarters. They should suit the High Prince until something else can be arranged. Get some sleep Jack Braedan. You’ve earned it.”
“You’ll send word to Kirk where I’m staying?”
“At once,” Morgan nodded. “Now, my night is not done yet. The king is dead…”
“I’m sorry Morgan,” Jack said quickly. “In all the chaos, I haven’t even had time to tell you how sorry I am.”
“It’s been a long day, son,” Morgan said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t be expected to think of everything. Go now. I’ll send for you in the morning. Good night.”
“Good night Morgan.”
Jack found Dorad’s old suite truly fit for a prince. Unlike Anna’s rooms however, it was all not frills and splendor, but full of stout furniture, and items of warfare and learning. Every item spoke he had been in traini
ng, even if his youth had been…misspent, to one day assume the Ivory Throne. It was still well maintained, as if King Ellgenn, or more likely Anna, had hoped his exile one day would be lifted, and he could return to these rooms in the same shape as if he’d never left. Jack found himself missing his friend horribly. Dead or alive, only the Creator knew. Against all common sense, he found himself praying one day Dorad could indeed return to his home.
A deep weariness fell upon him. Despite his sadness at thinking of his lost friend, it was a weariness of accomplishment. Within the last week he had against all hope, rested the title of Swordmaster from Kiathan, exposed him as a traitor, and announced his claim to Yhswyndyr. Most importantly, he had found his love for Anna was more than a dream. Though Kiathan had escaped and Ellgenn was dead, Doridan was safe and thanks to Morgan he was no longer an outlaw. All things considered, events had turned out better than he had any right to expect. Jack sat down on Dorad’s huge, feather bed, struggled out of his boots, and fell back without removing his armor.
He was asleep almost instantly.
A sharp rap on his door brought Jack awake. He struggled to sit, every muscle in his body protesting. It felt like someone had been beating him with a two by four while he slept. The door opened and a young valet entered carrying a tray of fruit and a pitcher of water.
“What time is it?” asked Jack. There was sunlight streaming in from the far window.
“It is two hours after sunrise, High Prince,” the boy answered, setting the tray down on a nearby table. “My Lord, did you sleep in your armor? Someone should have been sent last night to help you,” he finished, as if ashamed. “Do you not have a squire?”
“I can manage,” Jack sighed. God his muscles ached!
“Nonsense my Lord,” the boy said, rushing quickly to his side. “Allow me.” Without a word, the boy began expertly unlatching buckles and straps until all his armor was piled neatly on the floor. “No offense intended my Lord, but I should draw you a bath,” he said, wrinkling his nose.
“I guess I am a bit ripe,” Jack admitted, managing a smile. “What’s your name?”
