Sword of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  “And what do you want of me?”

  She walked up to Beverly, examining her with great interest. “Years ago, your father did me a favour, and I have come to repay it.”

  “My father? He never mentioned it to me.”

  “Surely you wondered why the men of Bodden never hunt in the Whitewood?”

  Beverly levelled her gaze at her. “You’re a Druid,” she announced, “and the Whitewood is your domain.”

  “Very good, Beverly, I can see you have your father's intellect.

  “So his favour,” Beverly continued, “was to grant you the Whitewood as your own?”

  “Precisely,” she said, smiling, “and I vowed to return the favour one day.”

  “I don’t understand. How precisely would you do that, and what does it have to do with me?”

  “I practice the magic of the earth,” Albreda said, “and as such I see things. There is a great change coming to the land; a shadow growing over it, though I cannot see the details. Three times your father's Keep has been sieged, and three times he has driven off the invaders. But I see dark clouds in the future. One day you will return to Bodden to find it under its final siege. When that happens, you must call to the woods, and I will fulfill my vow.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “Is Bodden in danger?”

  “It will be,” the woman said mysteriously, “though I cannot tell you when, or how. But I must go now for I have other tasks, which call to me. You are on the cusp, Beverly, of events that you cannot imagine. Go with the grace of the woods and remember my words.” She stepped into the woods, blending within its greenery. The wolves turned and followed, along with the hawk, leaving Beverly the only soul remaining. She stood still for a moment, seeking to understand the meaning of the woman's words, but none of it made sense. Making her way back to the stream, she glanced around at her travelling companions, none the wiser to her encounter.

  * * *

  Lady Constance had given up her nagging, so the rest of the trip to Hawksburg was quiet, giving her time to contemplate the meeting with the woman of the woods. The encounter had her worried. She tried to recall anything she had heard about Albreda, but nothing came to mind. Perhaps she might find some answers in Hawksburg.

  They passed through the city of Tewsbury the day before their planned arrival, but didn’t stop to visit; only a quick rest for the horses, and then they were on their way again. She had no idea if the Earl of Tewsbury was home or not, but her father had warned her about keeping her distance from him, so she carried out his wish.

  They reached Hawksburg late in the evening. It was a thriving town, very spread out, with only a small keep to guard it. It was deep within Mercerian territory, and she could tell the town had never had to fight off attackers, for there were no walls to guard it. Once through the town proper, they were soon travelling up the laneway to her uncle's sprawling country estate. The servants were scurrying about, as they had seen the approaching carriage.

  She recognized her Uncle Robert coming out the front door with what she assumed was her aunt, and their children tagging along behind. Her uncle introduced his wife, Lady Mary, whom she had never met before. They were joined by their eldest son, Tristan who was nine years old. Aubrey, their second child, looked on, with all her seven years of experience, greatly interested in meeting her cousin. The youngest was Samuel, though he was only five and spent most of the time hiding behind his mother's skirts.

  Once Beverly introduced her travelling companions, they were escorted into the manor house where a meal had been prepared. The Brandon's were most welcoming, and young Aubrey seemed to delight in following her around everywhere.

  Whilst they began eating their meal, Tristan immediately monopolized the conversation with questions for Beverly.

  "What kind of armour do you wear?"

  "What weapons do you use?"

  "How many men have you killed?"

  She politely answered all the questions she could before her Aunt Mary stepped in and hushed him.

  Next up was Aubrey, who wanted to know all about Lightning.

  "How is he?" the inquisitive young girl asked. "I haven’t seen him since Father gave him to you for your birthday."

  "Have you taught him any new tricks?"

  "Is he a good horse in battle?"

  It appeared that visitors at the manor were few, as her attention was constantly requested by the two eldest Brandon children. She didn’t mind, the atmosphere was friendly, and she warmed to them rather quickly. They wanted news of all sorts; how was the barony going, how was her father, the usual type of thing she might expect. She asked about Albreda, but no one remembered the name. She resolved to talk to her father about upon her return.

  As the evening wore on Lady Constance succumbed to fatigue and retired for the evening, taking young Samuel with her. Soon to follow was Tristan whom, his father reminded him, had an early start to the morning with his tutor, leaving only her uncle and little Aubrey still awake. The inquisitive girl was sitting on her father's lap, enraptured by her cousin's stories. Beverly, noticing the child was doing something with her hands while she listened, bent her head and looked closer.

  Aubrey was stitching a fine pattern onto a handkerchief, using delicate movements. The needlework was exquisite, and her hands moved as if they were enhanced by magic. Beverly was surprised to see such dexterity from one so young.

  “Where did you learn such fine stitching, Aubrey?” she asked.

  It was Lord Brandon who answered, “She takes after her mother. She’s always using her hands; you should see her penmanship, I’m afraid it's far better than mine. She uses more ink practicing than the entire barony, I think.”

  Aubrey smiled, “Shall I make you one? I could put your name on it, or a rose or something. No, wait, even better, how about a sword. I bet you’d be the only lady in the kingdom with a sword on her handkerchief.”

  Beverly laughed, “I would like that,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Lord Brandon shifted Aubrey slightly on his lap, “You were asking about someone named Albreda earlier?”

  “Do you know of her?” said Beverly.

  “The name isn’t familiar, but I wonder if she might be the person known as the Lady of the Whitewood?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “She said she was also called the Woman of the Whitewood. What do you know of her?”

  “Well, I don’t know how much you remember about your father's history. You know he wasn’t originally the baron?”

  “Yes, my Uncle Edward was the baron, but he died during a siege.”

  “That’s right. For a time, under your uncle, the land had been plagued by wild animals. Mostly wolves, but there were other creatures too; bears, great cats and such. It became a dangerous place. Your uncle tried to eradicate them, hunt them all down. Many men were lost in those days trying to tame the wild lands.”

  “But Bodden’s been in the family for generations, had it always been a problem?”

  “I can’t speak for past generations,” Lord Robert continued, “but I know the Norland raids were devastating the crops. Your uncle thought it best to supplement the food with hunting, but the more they went into the Whitewood, the more the animals attacked. It was getting to the point where only very large groups of soldiers could go into the forest.”

  “What happened?” said Aubrey, suddenly taking an interest.

  “Just before the siege of ’33, Lord Richard took a ranger into the Whitewood. They went there to track down whatever was organizing the animals, and that’s when they came into conflict with the White Witch.”

  “White Witch? Another name? How many names does this woman have?” asked Beverly.

  “Many,” he answered. “Your father captured her. He could have had her killed and put an end to it once and for all, but he didn’t; he’s always been a man of conscience. He talked to her, resolved the situation diplomatically by striking a deal; if she kept her creatures out of his lands, he would stop his p
eople from entering the Whitewood.”

  “Is she a witch? I didn’t think such things existed?”

  “Well, the term 'witch' is just used to describe a mage. Most of them are Earth Mages.”

  “Druids, actually,” Beverly said, “I called her one, and she agreed.”

  It was Aubrey who spoke up next, “Druids are Earth Mages too. There are eight schools of magic; Earth is but one.”

  They both looked at her in surprise.

  “The four elements make up the main schools,” she continued as if reciting from a book, “Earth, Air, Fire and Water.”

  “What are the other four?” asked Beverly.

  “Oh, that’s easy,” she replied, “Life, Enchantments, Death and Hexes. Death and Hexes are generally frowned upon. They’re illegal in most realms.”

  “How do you know all this?” said Beverly.

  “I found an old book about magic and mother purchased it for me.”

  “So, what exactly is a hex?” Beverly prompted.

  “It’s the opposite of an enchantment. Enchantments enhance a person's natural abilities, such as making them stronger or faster. Hexes do the reverse; make people weaker or slow them down. Every school has its opposite; Life and Death, Enchantments and Hexes, Fire and Water, and Earth and Air.”

  “Fascinating,” mused Beverly. She turned to look at Lord Brandon, “I think you have a budding mage in the family.”

  Her uncle laughed, “Unlikely, there’s no one she could apprentice under. But it doesn’t hurt her to learn as much as she can about it. All education is valuable in my mind.”

  “Her reading skill must be exceptional,” Beverly observed

  “She takes after her mother in that, as well. Mary’s always been the reader in the family, looking after all the accounts at Hawksburg. Aubrey will take them over when she’s older; it’s a good skill for her to have. Now, it’s getting late, and little Miss Aubrey needs to get to bed.”

  Aubrey groaned and complained, so her father picked her up like a sack and threw her over his shoulder. “Off to bed, Missy,” he said to laughter, and they disappeared up the staircase.

  Beverly sat alone for a few moments enjoying the solitude. It was nice here, and she imagined how much she had missed out on by not having a mother or siblings around. No, she corrected herself, my father did everything he could to raise me, I shouldn’t complain. She forced herself to rise from the chair and reluctantly made her way to bed. She fell asleep imagining a happy house filled with children and a loving husband with steel grey eyes.

  * * *

  Her uncle kept up a hectic pace at Hawksburg, and Beverly did her best to help wherever she could. She assisted with the construction of the new church and the reorganization of the town militia. At first, the townsfolk looked strangely at Beverly for wearing a sword, but they soon began to ignore what they saw as her idiosyncrasies and accepted her as she became known for her dedication to their needs.

  Aubrey followed her around constantly, and she found it rather entertaining. She grew quite fond of her cousin, and on the few times she was not otherwise occupied, she would take her riding. Placing Aubrey in front of her, they would race Lightning across the rich countryside which surrounded the town. Her cousin was a blessing, for the outings kept Beverly’s mind engaged on those rare times she could have dwelt on what might have been.

  Late in the autumn, she volunteered to teach Aubrey how to ride, and they developed the habit of early morning outings, her on Lightning, and Aubrey on her pony Lucius. It was quite enjoyable, for the townsfolk would greet them with a ‘good morning’, and the farmers with a wave. When the cold weather finally came, their time outside diminished slightly, but they kept up the rides as long as the weather permitted.

  Truth be told, she found little time to think of Aldwin, so busy was her schedule. It was only during those social times, like the Autumn and Winter Festivals, when she saw other couples, that she wished Aldwin were here with her. She would often leave these events early, usually to wander alone with her thoughts.

  * * *

  Just as spring was blossoming, a messenger arrived from Bodden with the news that the king intended a visit to the barony. Her father wished her to return, for the king had never visited before, at least as far as she knew.

  A few days later, she departed Hawksburg to return to her home. She bid farewell to her uncle's family, promising to write to Aubrey, and then set out. Aubrey insisted on escorting them for a few hours, giving them a chance for a last ride together until the time came for their final goodbyes.

  She returned to Bodden a changed woman. She still loved Aldwin, perhaps more than ever. She understood that they could never be together; that she must marry someone else, but she knew that no one else would have her heart. This, she had accepted.

  Fourteen

  The Reward

  Spring 952 MC

  Upon learning that King Andred IV would be coming for a visit, the entire barony was put to work preparing. There would be feasts, celebrations, speeches, and lots of visitors, for the king never travelled alone. The Royal Entourage was famous for being large, which meant extra horses, soldiers, knights, servants and most of all, food. The current king had never visited Bodden having only assumed the throne some six years ago, upon the death of his father. His preference ran more to cities that had good hunting and sumptuous lodgings, than the barren locale of the frontier. No one thought to ask why the king was visiting, that was the royal prerogative, but once it was announced, everything must be done to make the visit perfect.

  Beverly was needed here more than ever, and her time in Hawksburg had helped her refine her organizational skills. Her father had given her the responsibility of preparing for the numerous soldiers that would accompany the king. This meant building a new stable, albeit a temporary one, along with finding places to billet the men. Bodden Keep was made to be a strong, defensible fortress; it was not designed to hold large numbers of guests. The normal garrison of Bodden numbered 200. This was usually broken down by type; there were 100 archers, 50 footmen, and 50 horsemen, of which usually about twenty were knights. The king always travelled with a contingent of at least 50 Royal Guards, all knights from the richest and most influential families. In addition, there would be two companies of heavy foot and their attendants, smiths, suppliers and such camp followers that the king’s entourage allowed. On top of that were the usual freeloaders, other nobles taking advantage of the host and currying favour with the king.

  Although the queen would not be in attendance, the king’s mistress, Lady Penelope Cromwell, would accompany him, requiring her own chambers, near to the king. Beverly’s father had given up his quarters for the king but was annoyed that a place needed to be made available to the mistress of the king. Beverly solved the problem by giving up her room for the duration of the visit.

  They spent six weeks preparing for the royal visit, and when the day finally came, they felt they had done everything they could to be ready. The first sign of the Royal Entourage was the appearance of the outriders. The royal party had sent two King's Rangers in advance to scout the road for safety, and to announce the imminent arrival of the king. Baron Fitzwilliam assured them all was ready and offered to billet them, but the oldest, a man called Falcon, refused. It was not the place of a King's Ranger, he said, to sleep in a soft bed; he had other duties to attend to. The baron bid them farewell, waiting for his regal guest to make his appearance. This gave Beverly the time she needed to change out of her warrior's garb, and much to her chagrin, attire herself in a courtly dress. Looking in the mirror, she came to the realization that she would have to leave her sword behind, for there was no way possible to wear both the dress and her blade.

  The king’s herald soon rode up to the gates and blasted out notes to announce the arrival. The entourage rode through the town of Bodden, led by members of the Royal Guard. Beverly and Gerald stood beside the baron as the group entered the inner courtyard. The knights were splendid in th
eir gleaming armour, mounted on Mercerian Chargers, the largest war horses in the three kingdoms. The Royal Carriage drew up behind them and servants rushed to open the door. The remainder of the entourage waited in the village proper; there was not enough space within the Keep's walls for them all.

  His Royal Majesty, King Andred, stepped down from the carriage. His red cape fluttered in the wind as his ceremonial armour, embossed with the Royal Coat of Arms, glinted in the sun. He held out his hand, the fingers bedecked with expensive rings, awaiting his subjects to do their duty. Baron Fitzwilliam stepped forward, knelt and kissed the Royal Signet Ring, as did Beverly. Gerald, as a common soldier, knelt with his head down, as was the custom. The king called the baron to him, and they talked amiably as they entered the Keep, with the remainder of the entourage arriving once the Royal Carriage had departed.

  Beverly took a deep breath, “I’m glad that’s over,” she said, looking at Gerald.

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s over for some time yet,” he said. “There’s no telling how long his majesty will stay. I suppose we better see to all these men.”

  Gerald, as the Sergeant-At-Arms had the responsibility of looking after all the troops in the Keep, including visitors. Now that the king had arrived, Beverly had been assigned more domestic duties. She had to deal with Lady Penelope, the king’s mistress, as well as any other ladies that were in attendance. Lady Penelope, fortunately, was easy to accommodate, for once she was escorted to her room, her servants took over, freeing up Beverly for more important duties.

  The remaining ladies, on the other hand, proved to be a nightmare. It was always the wives of the nobles that caused the most problems. The Earl of Tewsbury’s wife was exceptionally picky, with a long list of demands that Beverly found infuriating. Before she was even half-way through seeing to the Countess Tewsbury's seemingly endless needs, the Duke of Colbridge's wife appeared with a similar list of demands; the two were obviously fast friends. Beverly solved the problem by finally saying no to everyone. They all had to deal with what they were given, or they could take it up with the baron. It apparently settled the problem, for she received no more personal requests. No doubt they were bothering their respective husbands with their demands, but no one wanted to come to the king’s attention about such trivial matters.