The Heartfelt Saga

by Dustin De Felice

  Chapter 2

  October 27th, 770; the Trader's Center in the Farmer's Region

  The heavy sack tumbled from Talon’s shoulder and fell to the ground.

  Merchant Salit reached down and picked up the sack. "Rest from your labors, Talon. You've been at this all morning."

  Talon smiled in the merchant's direction. "I work all year for this. A few more sacks won't kill me." Talon brushed his hands off on his pants and ran his fingers through his dark blond hair. The sun was almost at its highest point as Talon was finishing for the day. He was happy that he was ahead of schedule, but picked up the pace, and with the merchant's help, he started moving more of the sacks. Sometime later, Talon unloaded the last of the sacks in his cart onto the merchant's sled and looked over to the merchant.

  "Not too bad of a load, Talon." The merchant dug into his satchel and pulled out the payment. "Here you go."

  "Thanks, Mr. Salit. See you next season." He tied the satchel onto his belt and headed for the trader's center with his cart in tow.

  The Farmer's Region was in the last few weeks of the fall harvest and it seemed every farmer in the region had brought the last of his crop to sell. Talon tipped his head as he passed a few familiar faces selling to the merchants. He paused for a moment to get a better grip on the cart and wiped his brow.

  Continuing on, Talon pulled his cart to the front of the center and walked inside. He browsed through the layout of tools spread throughout the entrance, but not finding anything, he continued to the kitchen area. He was looking over the afternoon’s wares, when he overhead some gossiping farmers.

  "He walked right out of the chamber cursing the Redderin Confidence right in front of the King."

  Talon walked over to the counter while he listened to the conversation going on between the two farmers and the merchant.

  "Where did you hear this? I know Massenberg has a temper, but to swing at Schillings. Impossible." said the farmer closest to Talon. He wasn't familiar to him, but he was an older man with only half his teeth who looked like he had just stepped off the fields. He shook his head in disbelief at the merchant’s comment.

  "I just came from Hearttowne and I heard the same story, though I heard that Massenberg attacked and injured Royal Man Blackheart." This farmer pointed his finger at the other farmer. "There is going to be another war; I can just feel it."

  Talon tried his best to ignore the gossip, but found he was listening to hear more about Blackheart. They continued talking, but did nothing except speculate and then quickly abandoned the subject.

  Talon picked out a Redderin apple and bought a mug of fresh milk. He took a chair a few down from the gossiping farmers and let himself relax for a few moments, since he still had a good ride ahead of him.

  It wasn’t long before he finished the apple. He quickly downed the milk and left the kitchen area. Before heading out of the center, he picked up another hand ax and a few rolls of twine. He paid for them at the counter and headed outside.

  His horse was waiting for him along the side of the center tied to a hitch. Talon walked the cart over to his horse and got ready to go. He mounted the horse and started on the path that would bring him home. As he settled in he let himself wonder about how Blackheart was doing at the castle.

  Those thoughts entertained him for the rest of his trip.

  January 15th, 770, In the King's chamber

  "Bring in the messenger."

  The door opened as Sir Stamos moved to greet the unexpected guest.

  The messenger walked inside and stopped in front of Sir Stamos.

  "I bring word from Confidence Massenberg and Confidence Pope." He knelt to one knee and presented a scroll wrapped protectively in a large piece of leather.

  Sir Stamos approached the man. He was dressed from head to toe in warm clothing with a lined-coat ending with a fur covering meant to shelter the head. Sir Stamos could only imagine how warm he was becoming inside the chambers with the fireplace blazing.

  Before he could retrieve the scroll the far end door opened and King Heartfelt walked into the chamber.

  Sir Stamos knelt. "Lord."

  The King moved into the center of the chamber. "Who is our guest, Edwin?"

  "A messenger from Confidence Massenberg and Confidence Pope. He brings word."

  The King shook his head and focused his attention on the man. "You must be frozen through, messenger." The King walked up to Sir Stamos and placed his hand first on Sir Stamos' shoulder and then on the messenger’s, thereby releasing them to stand. "Warm yourself at the fireplace, son. It will take me a few moments to read this and then compose a response." The King took the leather wrapped scroll and walked over to his working table.

  Sir Stamos escorted the messenger over to the fireplace and left the man to fuss over his coat.

  Meanwhile, the King opened the leather wrapped scroll and began to read. After finishing, his hands dropped to his side. "Edwin, get my son."

  Stamos scurried over to the King's side. "Prince Philip, sire?"

  The King shook his head, "No. Bring me Christopher and then send for Royal Man Blackheart."

  "Begging your pardon sire, but wouldn't the King-in-waiting be more appropriate?"

  The King's temper flared. "Don't question my judgment, Edwin. This matter doesn't concern how many eggs the castle will need this week or how many asses we hold in the stables." The King rose slightly from his chair as his level of anger rose. "Get me Christopher."

  "Yes, sire." Sir Stamos spun on his heels and disappeared out the chambers.

  The King clasped his robes shut as he watched Sir Stamos leave. He thought he had already disciplined Edwin about questioning his judgment, but he just couldn't remember if he did. The King stared off into space as he tried to think back to specific incidents, but could only remember a vague feeling he had of doing it.

  The King was brought back from his thoughts as his son burst into his chambers.

  "Father, I apologize for taking so long to respond to your summons. What is wrong? Are you ill?" Prince Christopher hastily knelt in front of his father's chair

  The King felt confused as he had thought Edwin had just left to get him only moments ago. The King replaced the puzzled look he had on his face as he remembered the scroll. "Thank you for coming, Christopher." The King nodded in his son’s direction and placed and a hand on his shoulder. His son, now released, started to rise. "This was brought to me moments ago." He handed his son the scroll. "News from our Vassals in the North."

  Prince Christopher unrolled the scroll and started to read as his father leaned back into his chair rubbing his temples. In moments he had read the curt message.

  "This is outrageous!" The Prince's face turned bright red as his temper boiled. "Who does he think he is to make demands of you, father?" The Prince turned at the sound of a cough near the fireplace. The Prince was surprised to find a man by the fireplace. “Is this the messenger my lord?”

  The King nodded his head.

  The Prince wasn't ready to reveal anything more then he already had to the messenger. "You will wait in the hallway until Sir Stamos returns. Have him show you to temporary quarters." The Prince’s voiced the order and returned his attention to the King.

  The messenger, feeling distinctly uncomfortable by the curt order, quickly gathered his loose garments and hastily disappeared out the door.

  The Prince returned his attention to the King. "Who has been told?"

  "You have been the first, my son. I have sent Edwin to find Blackheart."

  "I understand. What are your thoughts, father?"

  The King sat back in his chair and rubbed his temple. "I want a messenger sent to Markham, Elizabeth Towne, and Redderin, before the week is out, summoning them for an emergency session of the Council." The King paused for a moment, before continuing. "This messenger from the north will be sent back with a royal guard informing Massenberg
and Pope of this session and telling them they will be present. What is the soonest we can expect the session?"

  "The winter has been unusually rough and there doesn't seem to be any relief in sight. A storm is moving in from the north as we speak. I don't envision Massenberg being able to make the trip until the spring starts to break. I think the earliest we can expect to see him is the first spring month."

  "I agree. The first spring month it is."

  Both men turned their heads as Blackheart entered the chamber. He approached the men and knelt before the King.

  "Thank you for coming, Royal Man Blackheart. Please rise."

  "Your wish is my command, my lord." Blackheart stood and glanced at Prince Christopher.

  "Christopher, please explain our dilemma."

  Prince Christopher turned and addressed Blackheart. "Word from our friends in the north and I quote, 'The situation with Redderin has become unbearable and is forcing our hand. Speaking for Bayside, Confidence Pope, myself, and for Fort North, we will boycott any and all trading at Markham come this spring. Any goods transported north of Markham will be seized, until such time as Redderin is returned to a Towne and is stripped of its full Vassal status. Finally, Redderin must be subjected to reimbursing us for our war sufferings. I await resolution.' Signed by Massenberg and Pope."

  "This is outright rebellion."

  Prince Christopher thought he could feel the emotion coming from Blackheart's words. "I agree."

  The King stopped both men from continuing. "Let's take one step at a time. First, what is the status of the army, Blackheart?"

  "My lord, the army is in recall status with general strength members located in Hearttowne. We haven't actively recruited new members since the last meeting of the council, but we have fulfilled the ridiculous standards set at that same meeting. All royal detachments have been disbanded and have returned to Heartfelt. The Vassals have been without a royal contingent since the beginning of the winter."

  Prince Christopher shook his head in utter frustration. "We both knew this effort to conserve funds wasn't worth the results, but it was a unanimous decision amongst all of the Confidences. Blackheart, we need to draft plans to change this."

  Blackheart nodded. "I understand. I have been working on a plan that would leave a royal detachment in each Vassal without straining Prince Philip's coffers."

  "Good. Christopher, have Edwin send for your sister, Anne. I am going to need those messengers within the hour. You will see to it that the royal guard will be prepared?"

  Prince Christopher bowed. "Yes, my lord."

  "Good. Leave me for now, but return with your sister and I will have our reply ready for Massenberg and his lap dog."

  Both men bowed and left the King to his work. As the door shut, the King took out some parchment and flattened it out across the top of his worktable. By the time he had readied the ink, he found he couldn't remember why he was about to write a letter. The King placed his head in his hands and concentrated in hopes of his train of thought returning. Sometime later, he was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't hear his son enter the room.

  "Father!"

  The King was startled as he looked up and found Prince Philip standing before him. "Are you well, father?"

  The King became furious at the interruption. "Yes, of course I am well. Why have you disturbed me?"

  "I heard a messenger has arrived from the north. What words did he bring?"

  "I have already spoken to your brother. Speak with him on this matter. Please leave me; I must attend to my response."

  Prince Philip was outraged. He was the King-in-waiting and he deserved to be the first person to be consulted, not his brother. To add insult to the injury, he would now have to track down his younger brother and receive the information second hand.

  The King returned to his message without waiting for an answer from Philip. He moved across the paper never remembering his lapse in memory only moments ago.

  Prince Philip turned and stormed out of the chamber and went looking for the King's aide. Sir Stamos was supposed to be taking care of these matters and, at this rate, was likely to find himself out of a job once Philip became King. He already started visualizing his words. It was time to flex his King-in-waiting muscle.

  As the King finished the message for Massenberg he was interrupted as Prince Christopher escorted Princess Anne into the chamber.

  “Princess Anne, sire."

  The King nodded. "The message is almost complete. We will need to have a similar one sent to each of the...” The King grasped his forehead and his face went flush with pain.

  "Father!" Prince Christopher raced to his father's side in an attempt to help. He held onto the King's arm. "Father, what is it?"

  The King struggled for a moment, “Get Edwin son, please!"

  Prince Christopher looked to his sister, “Hurry Anne, find Sir Stamos!"

  Princess Anne raced from the chamber.

  The King, suddenly extremely weak, slouched in his chair. Prince Christopher held his father tight, refusing to let him fall to the ground. He spoke softly, "Edwin is coming father, just hold on!"

  As he finished the sentence Sir Stamos burst into the room. "How long ago did this happen?"

  "Only moments ago!"

  "Bring him to his room. Hurry!"

  Prince Christopher picked his father up like a small child and carried him into the bedroom. He gingerly placed his father on top of the bed and knelt at his side holding his hand.

  Sir Stamos followed behind the Prince carrying his tools of the trade. "Have your sister retrieve the Healer." Sir Stamos nodded at the Prince. "Go on Christopher, I will remain at his side."

  Prince Christopher nodded and stood. He briefly paused at his father's side before heading back into the chamber. "Anne. Please find the Healer."

  As Princess Anne disappeared from the chamber, Prince Christopher sat at his father's desk. He read the message from the north and proceeded to finish his father's thoughts. Leaving the bottom blank for his father's signature, he started on the request from the rest of the Vassals.

  By the next morning, the King, still recovering in his bed, had approved and signed each of the messages.

  By that same afternoon, the respective messengers and royal guards embarked the castle in the middle of the winter's worst storm. If they were successful, all the Confidences would be present at the first month of spring.

  Prince Christopher watched them leave from his room and wondered how many Confidences he would see this spring.