Fate of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  "Captain Harcourt, is something wrong?"

  "No, Your Grace," the man hesitated. "Well, actually, I suppose something is wrong, my lord."

  "Well, spit it out man, what is it?"

  "There's a knight demanding entrance to the city."

  "Just one?" the duke mused. "I would have expected more. I suppose it was inevitable that the king should hear of our rebellion. Did he give you a name?"

  "No, my lord, but she did say she represented someone important."

  "She? You're saying this knight is a woman?"

  "Precisely, Lord."

  "With red hair?" he asked.

  The captain shifted nervously, "Aye, my lord."

  "I can't believe it!" yelled the duke. "For Saxnor's sake man, don't just stand there, go and open the gate. Give them leave to enter the city and bring them straight here."

  "Yes, Lord.” The captain turned to leave, but the duke's next words caused him to pause.

  "And while you're at it, call out my guard. We must have a guard of honour to welcome Her Highness."

  "Highness, Lord? I thought we were rebelling against the king."

  "We are, Captain, we are. If that red-headed knight is truly Dame Beverly, then there can be no doubt that Princess Anna must be alive and well. Be off with you, quickly man."

  The captain scurried out the door to attend to his duties. The duke tried to return to his lists, but the imminent arrival of the princess took hold of his interest, and he swept them into a pile, to be dealt with later.

  "Marsdon," he called out, only to find the old steward already present, startling him by his answer.

  "Yes, Your Grace?"

  "Saxnor's beard, Marsdon, you old fool, you were nearly the death of me, sneaking up on me like that!”

  Marsdon smiled. It was an old game, one that he knew the duke appreciated.

  "We're expecting a royal guest," continued the duke. "It appears word of Princess Anna's death may have been a tad premature. We'll need rooms for her party, and tell the kitchen to prepare a meal fit for a royal."

  "Have we any idea of the number in the party, Your Grace?" asked the faithful servant.

  "No, but I'll send word as soon as we know. I expect it's only a few, after all, there isn't an army at our gates. I'm sure the good captain would have told me if there had been."

  "Will you want it in the great hall, my lord?"

  "No, I think something more intimate. If I remember correctly, the princess isn't one for ceremony. I shall want my officers in attendance, can you arrange that?"

  "Of course, Your Grace, though it will take some time. Who would you prefer for the guard of honour?"

  "Whoever is closest, we haven't much time. Have the rest join us here as soon as they can. I expect there will be much to discuss."

  "Anything else, Your Grace?"

  "No, that's it for now, Marsdon. I shall leave the details up to you."

  "Certainly," the old man replied, "then with your leave, Lord, I shall retire."

  "Yes, yes of course, off you go."

  The faithful servant shuffled out leaving the duke in a somewhat flustered state. A royal visitor meant protocols to follow, clothing that must be changed into, and he hadn't much time. He rushed from the room, calling for his manservant to come and dress him.

  * * *

  Dame Beverly led the small procession to the duke's estate. She halted and then turned to look at the column following her. Gerald and Anna rode behind, with the rest of the travellers arrayed in two's just beyond.

  The duke had lined up a row of soldiers; each standing with spear and shield, while a captain bowed deeply.

  "On behalf of the Duke of Kingsford," the man said, "welcome to our city, Your Highness."

  "Thank you, Captain," said Anna, dismounting.

  Beverly watched as the duke exited the building, a rather opulent house with ornate marble pillars out front. He was an elderly man, with long hair and a neatly trimmed beard. They had met before, but she couldn't help but notice how much he had aged since their last meeting, just under two years ago.

  "Your Highness," he said, through laboured breath.

  "Lord Somerset," replied Anna, "you honour us by your presence."

  "It is I that is honoured," replied the duke. "Had we known of your coming, we would have organized something more fitting to your station."

  "We don't need any special treatment, Your Grace. I believe you know General Matheson, my army commander?"

  "Army?" the duke's face went pale. "Surely you're not here to arrest me?"

  "No," replied Anna, "far from it. We have seen the flag of rebellion flying from your ramparts and have come seeking your help."

  "Your army," he asked, "is it nearby?"

  "It is some distance from here," she replied, "but perhaps we should discuss this in more comfortable surroundings, rather than outside?"

  "Of course," said the duke. "I'm sorry to have interrupted you. You were introducing your party?"

  "Yes," she continued, "as I said, this is Gerald Matheson, general of my army. You've met Dames Beverly and Hayley before, along with Master Revi Bloom and Tempus, but I don't think you've met Sophie, my Lady-in-Waiting."

  "Pleased to meet you all," said the duke graciously. "Now, if you'll come this way, you can make yourselves comfortable inside, where it's warm. I'll have someone take the horses, shall I?"

  They followed him inside where he led them into a comfortable looking sitting room. Servants were standing by to take their cloaks while another stood ready with wine, serving them as they sat.

  "I must thank you for your hospitality, Your Grace," said Anna. "We didn't know what to expect when we received word of your rebellion. Can you tell us what led to it? I fear we've been out of touch for the last few months."

  "Well," started the duke, "where should I begin? Of course, we all rejoiced when you returned to Merceria after a year abroad, but then, shortly after your arrival, we started hearing rumours that you had been arrested and tried for treason. Then, almost a month later, came word from King Henry that you and all your followers had been executed for said treason. I must say it was just too much to take. You have been popular here ever since you saved our city early last year. The final straw came when the king summoned all his knights to Wincaster."

  "All of them?" asked Gerald.

  "Yes, every single one of them. King Henry wanted them to repeat their oath of allegiance to him. It left us completely devoid of protection. How can a king deprive his own people in such a way? Why, if Westland decided to attack, we should have little to defend ourselves with."

  "I can assure you, Lord," said Gerald, "that Weldwyn has no such thoughts. Don't you have a large garrison?"

  "We do now," said the duke, "but it wasn't always so. Ever since the attack in the spring of '60 we've been more vigilant. I've doubled the garrison, and the town guard has been resurrected."

  "And what do you place your numbers at, if I may ask?"

  "We stand ready to defend our walls with more than a thousand men. Of that, the bulk are footmen, but we have three hundred archers, some of those using crossbows. It is cavalry we are weak in. The king took our knights, leaving us with no horsemen, though I daresay they're not too useful when defending a walled city."

  "And your defences?" Gerald asked.

  "In fine shape," he replied. "We wouldn't be going against the king if they weren't, and it's not just us."

  Anna leaned forward at the news, "Whatever do you mean?"

  "Have you been out of the country? I thought everyone knew," said the confused duke. "You were the people's princess. When word of your demise at the hands of the king spread, so too, did the talk of rebellion."

  "Where did it start?" asked Gerald.

  "It is rumoured to have started in Bodden," the duke explained, "and it's said it spread through the north like wildfire."

  "Bodden?" said Beverly.

  "Oh yes, I can only imagine the effect that the report of you
r death must have had on your father."

  Beverly looked to the princess, "We must send word at once," she said, "before the king can send troops."

  It was Gerald that answered, "We will, in time, but the king won't march in winter, and you're needed here. Have no fear, we'll get word to the baron eventually, long before the king can make his move."

  "You spoke of an army," interrupted the duke. "Where have you raised it? I haven't heard of any recruitment."

  "We have stitched together a patchwork army of allies," explained Anna, declining to give more details. "You have ample supplies here for the city?"

  "Oh, yes," said the duke, "we're well prepared to hold out."

  "Good, for we have allies in Weldwyn," she said.

  "Westland? Why in the Three Kingdoms would they help? They've wanted to destroy us for years."

  "We saved their kingdom last year," said Beverly, "and now, in return, they've pledged to help us take back the crown."

  "Well, I'm glad to hear it, though the thought of Westlanders on Mercerian soil worries me."

  "They owe us," said Gerald, "and the truth is they feared us as much as we did them, but they are a decent people, not terribly different from us. I'm sure once you meet them, you'll see for yourself."

  "So what is the next step?" asked the duke. "I shall issue a proclamation to the city, of course, but what then? Have you a Royal Standard?"

  "We have a flag," said Anna, "but it's not a Royal Standard. Sophie, if you would?"

  Her servant dug into the satchel she carried, pulling forth the flag that had served them so well in Weldwyn. Hayley took one end, while Sophie stood, holding the other to display it for the duke.

  He looked rather pleased by it. "The red flag of rebellion over a green bar. Saxnor himself couldn't have picked a finer flag, but surely your coat of arms should be present?"

  "No," said Anna. "This is a flag for the people of Merceria, not my personal emblem. We fight for everyone, not just the Royal Family."

  The duke appeared overcome with emotion. He dabbed at his eyes with a kerchief. "You make me proud to serve you, Highness."

  "Thank you, Your Grace," said Anna. "Now, there are many things that need to be done. We have an army to move and preparations to make for the spring. I would like to send word to Weldwyn that they can start shipping supplies to Kingsford if that's all right with you?"

  "Of course, Highness," he replied, "I am at your disposal."

  "Excellent. We'll rest the night here. In the morning, Gerald and Hayley will return to Queenston while Beverly remains here with me to make arrangements."

  "Queenston?" said the duke. "I don't understand. Where is that, in Weldwyn somewhere?"

  Anna blushed slightly before answering, "It's best you don't worry about it for now. Suffice it to say our army is nearby, but we will need to bring it to Kingsford to continue with our plan."

  "You will winter here?" asked the duke.

  "Some, yes," said Anna, "but the bulk will continue downriver. We mean to take Colbridge before the spring."

  "I shouldn't advise that, Highness," said the duke. "Lord Anglesley is a strong supporter of the king. He's likely got a large garrison of loyal troops."

  "We shall see," said Gerald. "We've sent in some scouts to assess their defences. I expect we'll hear back within a fortnight or so. In the meantime, you'll be dealing with shipments coming in from Falford."

  "Surely you mean Aldgrave," said the duke. "It's just a few hours ride across the river."

  "No," said Gerald, "Falford is better able to handle the boats we'll need for transport. Ferrying goods across the river here would take too long, and we're told Aldgrave has its own problems."

  "I see," said the duke. "I'll do all I can to facilitate things."

  "Thank you, Your Grace," said Anna. "And now, if it isn't too much to ask, we'd like to retire, for it's been a long ride."

  "Of course, Your Highness."

  Gerald stood, extending his hand, "Thank you, Your Grace. We'll keep you informed of our plans as they develop. We won't know more until our scouts return from Colbridge."

  Lord Somerset shook his hand firmly. "Of course," he said.

  Five

  Infiltration

  Winter 961/962 MC

  The gates of Colbridge were immense, for long ago it was a major trade centre. As the great swamp to the south expanded, however, it choked off access to the sea, and the city began its slow decline. With its usefulness to the kingdom vastly reduced, it had become a place forgotten and neglected, its population dwindling.

  Arnim looked about as he and Nikki entered the once great city, now with its ancient stone walls crumbling and its streets unkempt. The town guard mirrored the neglected city; instead of watching as people came and went, they spent their time in the pursuit of gaming or even sleep, one snoring loudly in the gatehouse.

  The road here was uneven, the cobblestones ill-fitted, broken, or simply missing. Arnim chose to walk in the mud beside the street, dirty boots being less treacherous than turning an ankle. Alongside him, Nikki took it all in. She had been born and raised in Wincaster, and until last year, had never left the Mercerian Capital. But now, with her new husband, she found herself, once again, in a strange city.

  They made their way through the streets, pausing only to ask directions to a suitable inn. Finally, they settled on The Mermaid, a run-down place that had seen better days, like most of the establishments around here.

  Arnim paid for a week in advance, and then they made their way up to the sparsely furnished room.

  "Not the best of places, I'm afraid," Arnim said, sitting glumly on the edge of the bed.

  "Oh, I don't know," said Nikki, "I've slept in worse." She looked over, noticing a look of concern on his face. "What is it, Arnim?"

  He turned his gaze to her, "I would have liked to have taken you somewhere nice, now that we're married."

  "There'll be time enough for that when the war is over," she stated. "I'm happy being here with you."

  He smiled, an action that was rare these days for the knight. "So," he mused, "where do we start?"

  Nikki opened the shutters to look outside. "The docks are over there. I think we should start by investigating them. When we take Colbridge, we'll need to bring in supplies somehow."

  "Why?" asked Arnim. "Colbridge lies too far south to be of any real strategic value. Of course, it was different when the river was open to the sea, but now it's just an inconvenient garrison we must deal with."

  "You're letting the gloom of this place get you down," she said.

  "Can you blame me?" he retorted. "The whole city is like some abandoned, neglected, forgotten place."

  "The king seems to think otherwise. Did you notice all the soldiers?"

  "Yes," he said, warming to the challenge, "there are far more troops here than I would have thought."

  "Why do you think that is?" she asked.

  "They're up to something. King Henry could have just ordered them to seal up the walls and wait it out. Instead, he's sent troops from Wincaster."

  "How do you know that?" she asked. "We only just arrived."

  "I saw men in the king's livery, his household troops. They were drinking at a tavern called The Rose."

  "That would be worth checking out," she said, "perhaps you can make contact with some of them, feel them out."

  "Good idea," he said. "We need to gather as much information about these troops as we can. Where will you start?"

  "I'm going to arrange our exit plan in case we need it. There should be smugglers hereabouts, especially with Weldwyn right across the river. I'll try to track one down. We may need to leave in a hurry if the duke gets wind of what we're up to."

  "You might need to grease some palms, have you enough coins?"

  "More than enough for what I need to do. How about yourself?"

  Arnim hefted his purse, "I've plenty, but we should stash some here as it is not a good idea to walk about with so much." He gazed ar
ound the room, looking for somewhere to hide the coins.

  "Do you remember Riversend?" she asked, looking at the floor.

  "Ah, yes. The hidden floorboard, but isn't that a little obvious?"

  "I have a variation on that," she said. "We'll put it right under the bed so that the frame sits atop it."

  Arnim looked at the bed and grumbled, "I suppose that means I'll have to move it. It looks quite heavy."

  Nikki walked over to the bed, bending slightly to push on the frame. "You know, it would help if you weren't sitting on it."

  Arnim rose, coming around to her side. She began pushing on the bed, but he grabbed her around the waist.

  "What are you doing, Arnim?" she giggled. "That's not how you do it."

  "Oh, I don't know," he replied. "I can think of more than one way to move a bed."

  * * *

  The next day found Arnim wandering the streets, observing those that passed by, determined to identify any military troops he might see. He paused at a weaponsmith, intrigued by the conversation he overheard.

  "That's far too much, my friend. What else have you got?"

  "Well," replied the smith, brandishing a new blade, "I have a shorter sword here. It's seen some use, but it still has an edge to it. How much did you want to spend?"

  Arnim moved closer to observe the transaction.

  The purchaser dug into a small purse but found it difficult to extract the coins. He settled for dumping them out on the counter.

  The smith looked disappointed. "That won't get you much," he said, "at least not a sword, at any rate."

  "How about an axe?" suggested Arnim.

  "What was that?" asked the customer, turning at the intrusion.

  "An axe is usually much cheaper," the knight continued, "as it doesn't require as much work to forge."

  "A good point," added the smith. "I have several here you could choose from, all the way from a small hatchet up to a great two-hander."

  "I haven't really used an axe," complained the customer. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to wield it."